#obi-wan x reader

[221bshrlocked]

Both! Both is good shy Obi who then respectfully doms!!!!

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Fem!Reader (Clone Wars era)

Words: 34,895 (things clearly got out of hand)

Warnings: lap dance, lots of touching, Obi-Wan wholeheartedly consents but he feels guilty that he's enjoying the “attention” (in the beginning at least), scent kink, lots of kissing, lots of fluids, shy to respectfully-dominant Obi-Wan, Oral (male receiving), squirting, some humiliation/dirty talk, overstimulation, slight religion kink, slight praise kink, slight breeding kink, incorrect use of the Force.

Summary: “And what-” the words die in his throat as soon as he feels the heat of your mouth engulf his thumb completely, and he clenches his jaw tightly when your tongue swirls around his finger several times until it’s completely drenched with your drool. “I apologize, what have you thought of when you studied them?” He manages to ask when you finally stop torturing him, but the relief barely remains because you drop his hand suddenly and throw your head back in pleasure when his palm accidentally grazes your breast, the wet thumb barely coming in contact with your nipple before he’s snatching his hand away as if you were molten fire. You snap your attention back to him a moment later, smiling to yourself when you see his pink features blush a deeper shade of red.

A/N: I refuse to apologize for whatever this is. This is not-so-loosely based on one of my less-dignifying posts which @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories decided to make better and which I dedicate this to. I hope y’all enjoy this as much as I did writing it. This is not beta’d so if you see anything misspelled, know that it is because I was flustered while writing this lovely story. You can add yourself to the taglist here.

An almost bored expression takes over your features as soon as your comlink beeps and signals a request for a private dance. When you notice how long the requested time is, you ask your handler to lead the client to the VIP room, and let them know that you will be there in a few minutes. You smile at the gentlemen flocking around you like a bunch of loth-cats in heat and excuse yourself, telling them that you will happily enjoy some more time with them once you finish the private dances for the night. Turning around to the stage, you signal one of the twileks to come and take your place so you don’t leave them without any service, and as you make your way to the private dance rooms, you can’t help but turn around to glance across the floor briefly, eyes immediately searching for the familiar brown and beige robes that have graced the establishment for some time now. 

Strange, he didn’t come today.

You shake your head in disappointment and make your way past the smaller rooms, fixing your lingerie and hair with each step you take so you look presentable to the client. Whoever it was, they certainly didn’t beat around the bush, asking for a longer time than usual and agreeing to the price of your services without making a fuss to your handler. You throw a kiss to the gentleman guarding the door of the room, and when you see the teasing smile he’s throwing at you, you narrow your eyes at him and take a step closer to the door. 

“Anything I should know about our guest?” You raise an eyebrow at him when he immediately shrugs his shoulders and steps out of your way. . 

“I know nothing sweetheart…except that I might not see you for the rest of the night.” It’s the first time anyone has dared to respond so crudely to you but you aren’t in the mood to give him a piece of your mind so you shoo him away and tell him not to disturb you. When he’s out of sight, you return your attention to the closed door and send a quick prayer to the maker that whoever it is wouldn’t try anything strange with you, or at least nothing that you aren’t willing to get onboard with. 

Dropping your gaze to the ground, you stretch your shoulders and knock twice before pushing the button on the side of the wall, the soft sound of the door swishing open giving you another few moments of peace before you meet the challenge of the night. You walk in slowly but don’t bother to raise your head just yet, instantly reaching for the lock on the door to push it so you can let the client know you will not be disturbed for quite some time. 

It’s only when you turn around and allow your eyes to gaze at the figure sitting in the middle of the couch that you finally catch onto the meaning of the words thrown at you not a moment ago.

Kriff, he was even more beautiful up close. 

And his gaze was unwavering in its intensity, making you forget how to breathe for a moment before you remember why he was here. Forcing yourself to remain calm, you offer him your friendliest smile before slowly approaching him. But a few steps is all it takes for you to recognize how uncomfortable he is in your presence. Whereas you would normally accompany your client on the couch, perhaps tease them a little with soft touches to their shoulders or brief caresses to their hair, you opt to remain farther away from him. His body language visibly eases when he notices the sudden halt in your movement, and he gulps nervously before he corrects his posture and tries to appear more confident than he is. 

You get the sense that this man was not used to feeling so out-of-place, and you think that this may have gone a little more your way if you weren’t showing so much skin. He certainly didn’t appear to be uncomfortable by the environment, far from it if the last week proved anything. It was most likely due to the state of your attire, or lack thereof. Tilting your head to the side, you giggle when you look into his eyes and see a bead of sweat form just above his brow, the furrowed muscles giving him away instantly.  

He definitely didn’t appreciate what you were wearing. 

Or maybe, considering what you learned fairly quickly about his line of work, he was perhaps a little too appreciative of your almost nude figure, and the guilt was eating away at him because of said lifestyle. 

“I was wondering when I’d have the pleasure of your company.” You let your hands roam over the flimsy material of your lingerie, barely holding back from laughing out loud when you see the handsome stranger clench his jaw tightly in irritation. 

Or was that appreciation?

He must take notice of how closely you’re studying him because in an instant, his facial expression grows neutral, and he raises a curious eyebrow at you, his lips upturning slightly in an attempt to tease you in return. Oh, this was definitely going to be entertaining, perhaps more enjoyable than you initially thought. 

“You’re acting surprised for someone who’s been here for an entire week and never asked for a private room.” You remark as you take hold of the pole in the middle of the room, twirling your body around it once before you rest your forehead against it, eyes refusing to look anywhere else by the blue, slowly darkening orbs staring into your soul. 

“Surely my presence was not obvious.” As soon as the words leave his mouth and reveal the low guttural sound of his voice, a coarse shiver takes over your body, and you have to grasp onto the pole tightly to try and ground yourself. If he sees the way his voice affects you, he chooses to say nothing and instead crosses his legs while fixing his robes. Your attention falls instantly on the dangerous weapon hanging on the belt around his waist, but you turn away before you think more of how you’d like him to thoroughly use you for his pleasure. 

“Maybe to others it wasn’t,” you remark as you raise your knees against the pole and allow him to get an eyeful of your inner thighs, “but it sure was to me.” The second his eyes shift below your neck, you bite into your lower lip and smile as his cheeks suddenly become a deeper shade of pink. 

“I find that hard to believe.” You turn around to avoid his gaze, knowing that he will surely notice the reaction of your body to his voice. He’s only spoken twice thus far, but you come to accept rather quickly that there was nothing you could ever deny him should he continue to speak with such an arousing, soft baritone to you. When you face him again and see how adamant he is on keeping his sight above your neckline, you decide to push him a little, wanting to get a closer look into his personality.

“Why? Because I’m just another whore selling her body for money, or because I must be stupid since I’m just another whore selling her body for money?” You continue to dance for him, completely ignoring the wince he offers in distaste of your diction as he reorients himself on the couch. 

“You gravely misunderstand me, my lady. I only meant to remark on your exceptionally discerning abilities when this fine establishment promises the utmost attention when- when being served privately.” He struggles a little in his response, and you can’t help but giggle at the respectful manner he upholds even further out of fear of offending you by accident again. 

“He’s smart and polite. You’re definitely not from these parts of the woods.” Your words briefly put him at ease, but then his body language shifts once more when you slide your hands across your barely covered skin and throw your head back to give him a full view of your stretched neck. You flutter your eyes at him when you return his gaze, amusement washing over you as soon as he clears his throat and pretends to study his surroundings. 

“The color of the room isn’t pleasing to you.” You comment when you notice the pout he gives at the dominating color overshadowing the two of you, and for a split second, you are distracted by thoughts of him dominating you right at the center of this very room.

“Red is not my color, but it will suffice for now.” Your amusement turns into irritation when you realize his attempts of painting an untruthful image of himself for your sake at the expense of his discomfort. The thought of being the cause of his tense muscles and uneasy aura makes you uncomfortable, and you stop your routine long enough for him to take notice and finally meet your eyes again. 

“I’m sure it isn’t…Master Jedi.” You assumed he would reveal his identity to you as soon as you walked into the room, but the fact that he was taking so long to start the session was beginning to hold the opposite effect of whatever he was intending. When a rather shocked and almost lost expression meets your curious orbs, you groan in regret for revealing your knowledge of his identity. 

Kriff, he wasn’t planning on telling you at all. 

“Don’t act so surprised…and don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone what you are. Tell me then, which of those lovely gentlemen I spent time with last week recommended me?” You sigh in relief when his shoulders visibly relax at your admission, and you sway your hips down to the ground until you’re kneeling across from him. He gulps nervously and finally allows his eyes to roam your body when you palm the pole and bring your thighs around the cold metal. Slowly, you raise yourself and rub your core against the pole long enough to startle him. The lewd motions come to a stop, however, when he responds to you with yet another question. 

“I beg your pardon?” His voice is hoarse, that you are sure of, and you decide to put him out of his misery and settle down for a moment until he answers your question. Unfortunately for him, your lack of movement seems to distract him further, and you clear your throat loudly to snap him out of whatever spiraling thoughts overtaking his mind. He must notice the deeper shade his features are becoming because he reaches for his beard and strokes it as if he was searching for an answer in response to an important business question. 

“Don’t be shy, tell me. I only wish to repay them the favor for sending me such a fine specimen as yourself.” You coo at him, hoping that the calm tone of your voice would in turn pacify him, or at the very least, show that you meant him no harm. He blinks at you in confusion before he inhales deeply, and you swear he is purposely trying to hypnotize you with his body language, the thought coming to you rather humorously because it was your job to flirt with him, not the other way around. 

“I- I am uncertain to whom or what you are referring to.” He is rather serious when he finally breaks the silence, and your smile fades for a moment at the odd sentiment before you nod in return and smirk at him yet again. 

“Huh, so you’re not here on recommendation…which means, you’re here by luck or you’re on the job.” You raise an eyebrow when his jaw clenches tightly, and if it wasn’t your job to read people with one glance, you would have missed the way his entire body becomes rigid at your conclusion. He breaks your gaze and quickly scans the room, the action letting you know that he was by no means in your company by accident. 

No, he wanted to be here. Or perhaps, needed to be here for an important reason, one that left him no other option but to pay for your time. 

“On the job then.” You sigh heavily before sauntering towards him, and making yourself comfortable to his left. You leave enough space between the two of you for his sake, not wanting to give him any reason to leave you so soon. There was something about his presence that felt oddly comforting, even though he clearly did not want to be here. 

“How did you know who I am?” The Jedi finally asks, and you take the chance of finally meeting his eyes to bring both of your legs up onto the couch, and resting your cheek on your knees. Your skin glistens with goosebumps when he allows his attention to roam down your exposed skin, and you shrug your shoulders in response as soon as he looks at you with a warning expression.

“For one, your clothes give it away. Word of advice, if you want to lay low in these parts of town, don’t go around wearing your most Jedi-looking robes. Makes you stand out like eye candy…not that you need any help in that area.” The neutral look on his face falls for a split second when he registers the compliment, but you don’t comment on it, instead throwing your arm across the back of the couch until the tips of your fingers graze his cloak. He flinches at the sudden touch but relaxes almost immediately when he realizes you won’t become more bold with your handling of him.

“And I happen to know a few Jedi myself. Your kind comes by here all the time.” You tilt your head to the side and bite into your lower lip as soon as his eyes widen in shock at what you just admitted to him. But his eyebrows furrow soon after and he looks down to the floor, not bothering to hide the distaste of your revelation as he strokes his beard again. 

Kriff, you desperately wanted him to stop doing that. 

“Just because you don’t partake doesn’t mean others don’t as well.” Your tone is not as welcoming as before, and he must sense your dislike of his reaction because he shakes his head as if to apologize for how his reaction may have come off. 

“You have…entertained Jedi before?” The reluctance swimming in between his inquisitive words almost makes you lean back in laughter, but you force those giggles down and instead dwell on his diction and the attempts at being respectful towards you.

“Oh I did more than entertain sweetheart, otherwise they wouldn’t keep coming back from more. I suspected one of them sent you here to let loose a bit and you were just making sure I’m up to standards, which is why it took you so long to come here, but it seems that I was mistaken.” To his credit, the Jedi Master tries his best to give you his undivided attention as you respond to him, but you choose to look anywhere but his eyes for fear of giving yourself away should he finally understand how much of an effect he has on you. 

“May I ask who had the pleasure of your company?” You are a little surprised by his line of questioning, mostly because you didn’t think he would want to know anything of the sort, let alone discuss other Jedi’s intimate habits in the presence of someone who clearly knew more than she was letting on. 

“A girl doesn’t kiss and tell, Master.” As soon as that last exclamation leaves your lips, the man inhales deeply and hides his blush behind a thoughtful expression. His eyes betray him, however, when you watch him drag his intense gaze down your body before zeroing in on your lips. 

“Hmm, and it wouldn’t be good for business if I go around and start telling people who I spend time with here. After all, you have a reputation to live up to. What would happen to the good people of Coruscant if they knew their beloved Jedi enjoyed fucking like animals in their downtime?” You look at him through heavy-lidded eyes, wanting him to know that you caught him eye-fucking  you while pretending he wasn’t interested. The obscene response makes him wince, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s never heard profanity in his years serving the galaxy. 

“My apologies, I forget how prudish some of you are.” You graze his arm with your fingers as you apologize, feigning innocence as you squeeze his clothed muscles before taking your hand away once more. 

“I am not a prude.” He sounds a little amused, but you can tell he was still having a difficult time keeping up with this game.

“In that case, I will try to watch my language so I don’t offend your sensibilities.” Your declaration distracts him yet again, not because of the clear lies hidden behind your promise but because you choose to lower one of your legs and push it underneath the other, giving him a perfect view of your barely clothed pussy slowly soaking the flimsy material shielding you from his eyes. He knows what you’re doing, and you quietly applaud him for not falling into your trap so easily and turning his head towards the lighting of the room instead. 

“Would you like me to change the color of the room then, perhaps match those pretty blue eyes of yours?” If you were being honest, those beautiful orbs were no longer blue, and you got the sense that he knew just as well how dilated his pupils were at the moment. 

“That will be unnecessary, my lady.” His voice is more balanced than moments ago, more confident as it wraps deliciously around the title he decided to grace you with. You shouldn’t be surprised by his politeness, especially since he’s been nothing but respectful to you ever since he walked in. But you are stunned at the word he chose to call you, only because no one has ever associated you, in this line of work, with such a title before. 

“I’ve been called many things before, never ‘my lady.’” 

“I do not mean to offend you. If you wish-” Panic washes over him at your remark, and you reach for him once more to set his mind at ease when he stutters through an apology. He grows silent when he feels your hand grasp his forearm, but unlike before, when his whole body tensed at the mere touch of your hands, he doesn’t flinch now and slowly turns his whole body to face you.

“Relax sweetheart, I don’t care what you call me as long as you’re enjoying yourself.” You don’t let go of him just yet, wanting to test out his comfort with the proximity between the two of you. 

“That is a rather horrifying sentiment, which I can happily discuss with you once my business here is finished.” The amusement is evident in his voice, and you chuckle at his need to illustrate his rather progressive opinion on your claims. If only he knew what the others called you when they visited your chambers every other week. The more you think about it, the more you recognize the deep need slowly filling your chest for him to call you all sorts of unholy names if it meant he was bringing you pleasure and using you for his own. 

“Business then.” You break the silence out of fear of what you might do should he continue to look at you in such a way. The man had an uncanny ability of knowing just what to say and how to move to hypnotize you, and you were beginning to feel weak from the simple action of maintaining contact with his darkening blue eyes. 

“I’m here for the man you have entertained several times this past week,” you admire his ability to move on from, what he probably considered, a rather uncomfortable conversation. But as the question settles in your mind, your admiration becomes nothing but a deep irritation. He was involving you in business you did not wish to be a part of, and whether or not he knew how dangerous this could be for you, you knew he would not leave until he got the information he came for. 

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.” You move away from him and pretend to pick at the loose strands of one of the pillows behind you. His attention doesn’t falter once, and you hate how difficult it suddenly is to breathe in his presence. You got the sense that it would not be easy to lie to him and decide to feign ignorance instead. 

“Has he ever spoken a word to you about any shipments he smuggles through Coruscant?” The Jedi Master continues his questioning, and you hate how quickly his tone turns from one of curiosity to hope. 

“What shipments?” You ask in return and turn to look at him, instantly regretting the action when you realize he can sense that you are hiding something from him. 

“He is a notoriously dangerous smuggler, my lady. He must have revealed even the smallest of details by accident.” The man shifts his body towards you, reaching out to touch your hands as they continue to fiddle with the black covers stretched around the pillow. A sizzling heat courses across your skin when you feel his warm hand atop your own, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was practically interrogating you on one of your clients, you would have returned the gesture and made him blush. Instead, you slip your hands away and relax against the back of the couch, the hint of hurt flashing across the gentleman’s features not going unnoticed by you. 

“You must really think me a bore if you truly believe that “notoriously dangerous” men will speak of their work while I’m…what is it you said, entertaining them.” You respond perhaps a little too angrily, and you watch as his expression turns yet again to a somewhat neutral impression at your unnecessary outburst. 

“I am sure you are marvelous in your craft but-” He looks to the ground as he speaks, but you don’t give him a chance to continue, knowing that he might easily get the upper hand on you if you let him soothe you over with gentle compliments. 

“But I can’t be that good.” His gaze shoots up as soon as you throw those words at him, and you can’t help but smile when you see his attempts to hide his embarrassment. Against your better judgment, you cross your legs and slowly twirl your hair around your fingers, hoping that your confirmation of his suspicions would suffice for now and prevent him from asking more questions. 

“Well, if you must know Master Jedi, Barlac did in fact mention a thing or two about the shipments he smuggles through here. But I’ll have you know, he only spoke of these matters when he was having a moment of respite. I work hard you see, and sometimes, my clients like to take a break before we return to our…extracurricular activities.” Without thinking much, you tease him about his earlier remark, barely managing to hold back your giggles when the pretty blush that spread across his cheeks a moment ago deepens and descends down to his neck. 

“I see.” The curt response is reluctant, and you watch as he rubs his beard several times, most likely thinking of the name you had just given him. 

“Don’t pout like that, it’s distracting.” You don’t realize what you blurted out until he looks up at you with nothing but shock filling his eyes, the hands on his chin ceasing all movement when he realizes you were being dead serious. Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of having the man touch you so intimately, but you knew better than to go down that line of thinking now of all times.  

“Well, aren’t you going to make me an offer for the information?” You break the silence, hoping that the question distracts him from what you just admitted. You had assumed that he would jump at the chance, but when he relaxes against the back of the couch and rings his fingers, you realize that he was debating continuing this little chat. 

“I have insulted you more times than I dare count, my lady. I fear I have lost any right I may have had to continue this conversation.” It is not the answer you expect out of him, especially now when you were willing to give him whatever knowledge he came for. The shy persona that takes over turns you on more than it should, especially when you have only pictured the Jedi in more compromising and violent positions, most of which involve you completely surrendering to his dominant demands. 

“Do all Jedi give up this easily?” You let your arm fall behind him again, biting into your lower lip when you manage to touch the tips of his hair without having him shy away from you. 

“Far from it, my darling. But unlike the others, I know when I should hold my tongue.” The pet name is surprising, so much so that you can’t control your thighs from clenching tightly as you imagine him calling you ‘his darling’ as he rails into you from behind. 

“A true sign of a gentleman. But I still think you should try and make me an offer.” You are proud of how little you falter, more so because of how direct his gaze seems to be as he stares at you. There’s something on his mind, but you know better than to expect him to reveal it to you now so you brace yourself for whatever he is about to say. 

“I will humor your remarks merely because you have been patient with mine. How much do you require in return for what you know?” He crosses his arms, and you swallow the lump in your throat at the slightly deeper and more strict tone his voice takes when he gives you his undivided attention yet again. Silence fills the space as you try your best to get control of the situation once more, but you know as soon as he smirks at you that you would never be fully in charge when it came to him. 

“I have no need for your credits.” You bite your lower lip and wait for him to register what you’re after. 

“You will have me beg only to refuse my offer?” His question is not the response you are hoping for, and you restrain yourself from rolling your eyes at him or simply straddling his lap to show him what you had in mind. 

“You and I both know that cannot pass for begging. And besides, I may be cruel but only when I’m paid to be. I would never lead you on if I wasn’t sure you can deliver.” You are sure your words will drive the message across, but when he continues to look at you with nothing but confusion etched on his pretty face, you throw all caution out the window and get a little more forward with him. As slowly as you can, you slither your fingers across his jaw and down to his neck, not pausing for a moment as you descend to his chest and rest the palm of your hand on top of his heaving chest. 

“What I want is not on the financial spectrum…but more physical in nature.” You make no other move on him, knowing that this is probably more than what he bargained for when he first entered the establishment. You sense the unease rolling off of him in heavy waves, and when you notice that he cannot take it anymore, you remove your hand and bring it to your nose, not caring for how ridiculous you look as you sniff it to try and get a whiff of his scent. 

“P-Physical?” His voice breaks momentarily, and you almost apologize for making him uncomfortable, but then you study his body language and recognize all the signs you usually look for in a client.

The ones that tell you when they were ready for you. 

“One hour of your time. That’s all I ask for.” You lean over until your lips almost touch his ears, whispering gently against his skin in hopes of easing whatever worries storming his mind. 

“T-to do what exactly?” He clears his throat before he speaks, and if you weren’t still unsure of whether you were forcing yourself on him or not, you would have attacked his neck then and there to show him how much you craved him. 

“I think you know.” He sucks in a deep breath at the sound of your confirmation, and you instantly regret how strongly you are coming onto him when you look down and see how tight he’s holding onto his knees. 

“I- I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” It’s not the question you want to ask, but it is the one that escapes your lips when you finally move away from him and stand up. You have no right to ask him such an intimate question, and before you can apologize for your lack of propriety, the Jedi responds to you with such decisiveness that halts your thought process. 

“Can’t.” He answers immediately, the quickness hurting you more than you cared to admit. 

“I see.” You say nothing else as you lazily twirl around the cold pole in front of him, purposely letting the moment die out for his sake. He tries to catch your attention several times, but you ignore him and continue to distract yourself with the coolness sliding against your flushed skin.

“That’s hardly fair and you know it.” A hint of anger slips through his words, and you raise an eyebrow at him when you turn around and watch his features harden soon after. You were prepared to let it go, but the manner in which he gazes upon you, as if you were being unbelievably unhinged forces you to respond in kind. 

“For me perhaps, certainly not for you.” You say in passing as you move towards the flasks on the table beside him. You don’t bother elaborating on your comment as you pour drinks for the two of you, but when you hand him his glass and watch the way his eyes shine with curiosity and reluctance, you sigh and step towards the pole on the platform once more. 

“You’re telling me you find it unfair for you that I would both pleasure you and give you the information you seek in return for an hour of your time and no credits?” You down your drink instantly before setting it on the floor, unsure of where this conversation was now going. 

“You cannot, in good faith, expect me to be so intimate with you, a complete stranger who may harm me in a moment of…vulnerability?” He hesitates, and you don’t bother stopping the laughter from bubbling up your throat at the last relayed sentiment. He must have considered you a great deal of danger if he thought you were capable of hurting him, a Jedi Master.

“Harm you with what? By all means, search me if you must.” You step towards him, and without thinking twice of why your actions could possibly prevent you from ever seeing him again, you unclip your bra and roll the straps down your arms, tossing it behind you before you place your hands on your hips and shrug your shoulders at him. The man’s eyes shoot wide open as he turns away from you to give you some semblance of privacy. You twirl around several times before seating yourself on the platform right next to his feet, purposely stretching your legs out to touch his calves. He glances at you once and clenches his jaw tightly when he notices your thighs fall wide open, giving him a perfect view of your clothed cunt.

“I- I think, perhaps, I should leave.” He’s finding it extremely difficult to breathe, that much you can tell, and you would consider it a small victory had it not been for the manner in which he rubs his knees harshly to focus on anything but your nude form. 

“Hmm, maybe you are just shy after all.” You remark as you close your legs and cross your arms over your breasts to hide yourself from him. 

“Well, it was worth a shot I guess. The shipments usually come at night once a week, not on an exact day from what I gathered though. I heard him say something about the new water supply cycle system? They’ll use it to smuggle things on and off world.” You can tell the second he registers what you’re telling him, his head snapping to you as soon as you start talking. You, on the other hand, can’t find it in yourself to look at him, especially now when you were barely clothed and giving him what he wanted all along. You come to regret the decision soon though, when you realize he was not planning on looking elsewhere as you continue to relay all that you knew. 

“He also said they’re relying on heavily-populated areas to get by…said the best way to go unnoticed is by doing things out in the open on levels that are too busy for the guards to care for.” You dare to glance at him once, but as soon as you meet his eyes, you turn away instantly, unsure of what exactly his gaze was portraying at the moment.

“Next shipment is tomorrow night, not too far from here. Look for a restaurant with a logo that has a loth-cat riding on top of a droid…and I only know that because I remember him saying an extremely disgusting joke about paying to watch a loth-cat actually ride a droid…fucking bastard.” You try to ease the awkwardness of the circumstances the two of you now found yourselves in, but when he doesn’t budge, let alone make a sound to convey shock or gratitude, you stand up and turn to face the doorway, wanting to give both you and him a moment to collect yourselves before the eventual, awkward goodbye.

“If there’s nothing else, Master Jedi, I suggest you leave before-” The words die in your throat when you hear him stand up and approach you. Thinking that he was going to move around you to exit, you step aside and face the other way in an attempt to avoid his bold gaze. 

“Little one,” the sound of his voice sends a bolt of lightning down your spine, momentarily distracting you from the cloud of compassion slowly showering you with warmth. It’s not until you feel his hand come up and rest on your shoulders that you realize he is not attempting to leave, but to turn you around so you could gaze upon you. You aren’t sure when your embarrassment is replaced with a need to touch him, and you can’t find it in yourself to care as you drop your arms from around your chest and reach for the robes tightly wrapped around his own. You rest both of your hands on top of his heart, wanting to feel grounded before the floor falls from beneath your feet as soon as he breaks the unbearable silence engulfing the two of you. 

“You would part with such valuable information, knowing I could walk out this very instance and offer you nothing in return?” You don’t dare look up, afraid that you would break whatever semblance of control still left within you if you find kindness flowing within the blue orbs. 

“I- I’m not cruel. I’ve been in this line of work long enough to know that being forced to be with someone takes away a part of you that you can never get back. I’d never want anyone to feel that way, especially someone like you who isn’t as used to this as someone like me.” The self-deprecating chuckle that fills the space between the two of you makes him flinch, and you finally muster up the courage to look up into his eyes when you notice his hands squeeze your shoulders tightly. What you find staring back at you is a feeling you never thought the universe could ever offer you, and you whisper an apology to amend whatever you said that made him uncomfortable. 

“Besides, you’re just trying to do your job, and I won’t get in your way if it means you’re saving lives. My…desires…they’re nowhere near as important as whatever you’re trying to do.” The reluctance that halts you right before you admit your need for him makes him inhale deeply and you remove your hands from his body as soon as he takes a step back and walks behind you. You turn around just in time to see him remove the outer robe shielding him from your eyes. 

“What- what are you doing?” You ask as he folds it neatly and sets it aside, not once bothering to pay you any attention as he unhooks the infamous, deadly weapon from the belt around his waist and sets it above his robes. 

“You asked for an hour of my time,” the man finally responds, and you watch as he sits back on the couch and crosses his legs, the smile etched on his features letting you know that he was far from joking, “and an hour you shall get.”

“As much as I want this, I see reluctance and regret swimming in your eyes. I will not have you this way.” You bite back at him, not caring for your nudity as you approach him and point towards the door. You hope he can see how deadly serious you are in wanting him to leave, the mere thought of touching him in any manner after the clear discomfort he’s revealed to you making you more angry than you wished to be.

“Then in what way shall you have me?” He raises an eyebrow at you as he reaches for his drink and sips from it leisurely, as if he had all the time in the galaxy to continue having this conversation with you. If it weren’t for the fact that he was currently getting on your very last nerve, you would have spent more time admiring his reddened lips as they glistened with the corellian whisky he has ordered on every visit to the establishment. 

“As long as you want this as well, I’ll have you in whatever way you’re most comfortable with. But again, I don’t think you truly want this so-” You fiddle with your fingers, the anger surrounding you suddenly ebbing away with each passing moment you continue to hold his gaze. He had an uncanny ability to set you at ease with just a glance, and you weren’t sure if it was because he was a Jedi that may have been controlling you—at least that’s what the rumors always said—or if it was because it was him. 

“If- if I asked you to do what you wish with me without removing any of my robes, would you still want me?” He clears his throat mid question, and you snort in response at the absurdity of it. His demeanor, and quick avoidance of your eyes as you chuckle at him, confirm your suspicions from early on.

He had no sense of self-awareness, at least not when it came to understanding how inherently attractive he was.

“I find it difficult to think of any circumstance in which I wouldn’t want you. I have spent a great deal of time thinking of you in the past week. So, believe me when I tell you that I- maker, I desperately want you.” As much as you hate to admit it, you know that there is no point in lying to him after the past few minutes. You are defeated, and it surprises you how little you are annoyed by the admission you just offered him. Whereas you usually try to entice your clients enough for them to spill their desires to you first, you realize that this is much different than all of the others. You want him to know how much you crave him, even if it made you appear pathetic in his eyes. It was preposterous to ever admit to holding feelings for a Jedi, that much you knew from your time with the others, but to be so forward in your neediness in front of one was a one-way ticket to absolute madness.

“You barely know me, sweet one.” The deep accent, mixed with the endearing pet name easily falling from his lips, make you shiver where you stand, and you make your way to the couch to sit down beside him. 

“I know enough. I know that touching you, even above your clothes, would give me pleasure I have not known in a long time. I know that looking into your eyes as I dance for you would make my heart beat faster because you- you seem like the kind of man who enjoys holding eye contact when you’re…being attended to. And- and I know that hearing you speak to me in that lovely accent of yours, no matter what you say, would make me come in a matter of minutes.” You wrap your arms around your shoulders again, suddenly feeling shy beneath his gaze. The way his body seems to buzz with energy with every confession you relay to him should have put your mind at ease, but when you look down and notice how tightly his fingers dig into his clothes, you can’t help but become more affected by his presence, and the clear way in which he was reacting to you in return, as if he was barely holding himself back from touching you. 

“You don’t have to do much for me to be at your will.” You finally manage to turn your attention to him, and you regret it almost instantaneously when you see the mischievousness etched in his dilated pupils. 

Fuck, maybe you weren’t so far off in reading his body language after all. 

“Is that so?” His voice is deep, much deeper than a second ago, and you gulp nervously as you acknowledge the reason behind such a change. 

“Yes, Master Jedi.” Your answer lingers in the tense air, and you rub your thighs together when you notice his jaw clenching tightly at the sound of his title being whispered with a lewdness unfit to be aimed at him. 

“Obi-Wan.” He says as he reaches for his drink, chuckling to himself when he turns back to you and sees confusion written in your eyes. 

“My name, sweetheart, is Obi-Wan.” He repeats, and it takes you a moment too long to finally register the name he just claimed as his own. A hint of shock and apprehension takes over you, and if the Jedi Master notices the way your body becomes on edge as soon as you replay his name in your mind, he doesn’t comment, not wanting to give you any reason to feel fearful as well. 

“Y-you’re General Obi-Wan Kenobi?” You don’t mean for your voice to come out as squeaky as it does, but the smile that greets you sets your mind at ease. Had you known the man you have been dreaming of for the past few rotations was Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, you would have attempted to stop your mind from wandering sooner. 

“You are familiar then?” He asks, as if he doesn’t know that his reputation precedes him everywhere he goes. 

“No wonder they leave your image out of the holos…you’re too damn beautiful for your own good. One look at you and the Temple would get an influx of job applications just so people can glance at you.” You allow your eyes to roam down his form more obviously this time, wanting to show him that you were not afraid of continuing whatever game he was playing with you. 

“Flattery will not gain you another hour, dear heart.” Obi-Wan teases as he rubs his auburn beard, and once again, you can’t help but lick your lips as you watch his fingers comb through his hair with ease, pretending they were caressing your own chin as you gave yourself to him. 

“It’s not flattery, believe me. I’ve seen my fair share of handsome men from across this galaxy, but I must say…none have ever made my mouth water with the mere sight of them.” You say as you cross your legs and throw your arm over the pillow in between the two of you. Ever the gentleman, his eyes never once drop to your breasts, and you get the sense that he was trying his hardest to pretend that he didn’t want to memorize every bit of your nude skin. 

“Maker, your tongue is a dangerous weapon, one I should disarm before it causes any more damage.” He turns to face you, mirroring your actions and throwing his own arm behind the back of the couch. His fingers almost descend to touch your forearm, but he holds himself back, unsure of whether he was allowed to be so familiar with you or not. 

“If you give me the chance, I can show you just how dangerous it can be.” Unlike him, you stop shying away from his touch, and extend your fingers above until they come in contact with his clothed biceps. You thought he would flinch as soon as he felt your fingers, but he doesn’t and decides to return in kind. He moves his hand down and caresses the top of your shoulder with two fingers, smirking to himself when he sees goosebumps erupt across your skin instantly. 

“As tempting as that sounds, I do believe you owe me a dance.” Obi-Wan refuses to take his eyes off from where he’s warming you with his touch, and against your better judgment, you lean down far enough until you feel his knuckles bump against your cheek. You pray that he understands what it is you’re asking of him, and when he lets go altogether and returns far from your reach, you sigh with desperation and move to the platform in front of him. 

“Before we start, I need to ask. What am I allowed to do to you?”

“Whatever you desire, as long as it leaves no visible markings.” Obi-Wan’s self-assured smile drops for a moment before it graces his features again, and if you weren’t already so desperate to attend to him, you would have stopped and reminded him that he was welcome to leave any time he wanted to. You twirl once around the pole before making your way to the screen at the other end of the room, scrolling through the varying tunes to find one that you thought perfect for him. 

“Where can I touch you, Master Obi-Wan?” You ask as you continue your search, not wanting to turn around until you are sure of the song. 

“Wherever you please, my lady.” Whereas he took a few moments to respond to your previous questions, his reply is instantaneous, making you smile at how affected he was quickly becoming by you. As your eyes dance over the different tunes, your fingers stop sliding across the screen when you finally find what you’re looking for. You select the track and clear your throat before turning around to face him. 

“You are sure?” You ask one last time, not wanting him to feel any ounce of regret before you begin. 

“Positive.” He says as he takes another sip from his drink and licks the droplets adorning his lower lip. 

“What if I- if the moment calls for it, may I kiss you?” You approach the pole slowly, reaching for it and sliding your palms up and down the cold steel while maintaining eye contact with him. He chooses this moment to finally take in your nudity, and you nearly topple over when you see him bite his lip and slide one of his hands down his chest until it rests against his navel. You follow the movement like a loth-wolf, only looking away when he clears his throat and speaks. 

“You are a needy one, aren’t you?” He scratches his stomach lewdly, and for a brief moment, you think he may move his hand a little lower to cup his crotch and relieve the pain he was surely feeling. 

“Please?” You beg as innocently as you can, batting your eyelashes at him as you trail your fingers across your breasts until he groans lowly and slithers his hand lower.

“Since you plead so sweetly, yes. You may kiss me if you wish…wherever you want.” Obi-Wan adds the last bit when he sees you getting distracted by the slow movement of his hand across his crotch, laughing to himself when you trip over your own feet and nearly topple over. 

“Maker,” you barely manage to stand up again, reaching for the pole with both of your hands so you don’t embarrass yourself and fall over before you even start. You want to narrow your eyes at him for playing dirty with you, but as the low beat of the song increases in volume, you do your best to shut him out of your mind long enough to regain your composure. As the words finally wash over the room, you twirl around and gently lower your body down the pole, never once breaking eye contact with Obi-Wan as you let the music lead you through the slithering movement. 

With each touch of your fingers against your damp skin, Obi-Wan feels his pants growing tighter around his cock, and you smile to yourself when you notice his smirk falter for a breadth of a second before his face suddenly turns blank. You fear that you may not be pleasing to him, but as he drags his attention down your form and palms his crotch slowly, you throw your head back and sigh in relief. You wanted to show him what he’s missing, and as you move to the ground and arch your back along with the sensual tune, you turn to face him again and bite into your lower lip, not caring for how wanton you may appear to him as you spread your thighs wide open and push two fingers into your mouth. 

To his credit, he somehow doesn’t react to your behavior, but you notice the hint of red making its way across his sweaty skin as you slide your fingers down your sternum and stomach, making a mess of your drool as you continue until your fingers touch the edge of your lace panties. Obi-Wan doesn’t blink, and part of you wants to ask him if he was feeling unwell, tease him a bit like he has for the past week, but you choose to say nothing and push your fingers into your panties. 

He takes in a deep breath through his nose, the hissing sound making you gush down your thighs almost instantly. The sound is more erotic than it should be, and you forgo every reason why you shouldn’t do what you’re about to do next. Before you can think twice of it, you push the flimsy article of clothing aside and rub the wetness glistening across your cunt. 

Obi-Wan’s expression becomes stern, and his muscles seize up as soon as you push the tips of your fingers past your wet folds, the shallow thrusts driving out more of your cum for his eyes to commit to memory. He swallows thickly and tilts his head forward, wanting to get a better view of your pussy as you alternate between teasing your clit with figure-eights and pushing your juices in and out of your cunt until they stream down your cheeks. 

As soon as he leans his whole body towards you however, you remove your fingers from between your legs and push your body up, kneeling directly in front of him so you can rest your hands on your thighs. The Jedi Master clenches his fists tightly, and you hope that this is what finally pushes him to claim you. But when he doesn’t move another muscle, you pout and fall forward on your hands. Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow at you, and you aren’t sure if he is angry or unbelievably horny at your teasing. You pray to the maker that it’s a bit of both, and just to push your luck further, you crawl his way and tap against his knees, silently asking him if you are allowed to touch him any further. He says nothing, and for a second, you think he may actually shake his head and ask you to move away from him. Thankfully, you don’t turn your attention elsewhere and manage to notice the little nod of consent he offers you. 

As carefully as possible, you move to your feet and turn around, bending down one last time as the music shifts to give him a perfect view of the wet fabric shielding you from his hungry eyes. He moves his hands away from his legs in time for you to descend down and seat yourself in his lap. His thighs are wide open and you shiver when you get comfortable and feel his hard cock jut against your asscheeks. You roll your hips several times and laugh when you glance to the side and see his knuckles turn white from how hard he’s fisting his hands. 

Not wanting to drive him away, you throw one leg over each of his thighs and lay back until you can feel his firm stomach support your back. You look up and giggle at the furious gaze already aimed at you, the sound only making the Jedi Master’s eyes glow dangerously. This close, you can smell the intoxicating, masculine scent of him, and it makes you dizzier with each breath you take. For a moment, you forget what you’re meant to be doing, but when the song reaches a high note, you remember your mission and reach your hands above your head, softly caressing the skin of his neck and feeling a sense of pride fill your chest when you feel how hot he is. 

You’re about to ask him if he is still willing to have you continue your dance when the song changes and distracts you. As the tune registers in your mind, goosebumps erupt across your skin at the prospect of being at the mercy of the gentleman beneath you. You had expected him to be more disheveled by now, but when you sit up and turn around in his lap, you find him quiet and direct in his gaze. You falter in your actions, unsure of what you should be doing now that you can see how less affected he was than you. You want to break the tense silence filling the air, but as your eyes take in the specimen of the man, you can’t help but reach out and rest both of your palms against his chest. It expands as soon as you begin to gyrate your hips once more, and before you know what you’re doing, you move one hand to his broad shoulders while the other descends down and digs into his stomach. He’s all hard muscle beneath you, and your breath hitches at the prospect of being underneath his body, with nowhere else to go, unable to do anything that he doesn’t allow. 

The sound of his soft laugh scares you out of your haze, and you remove your hands immediately, not wanting to offend him by your forwardness. Before you can completely move off of him, however, Obi-Wan reaches for your wrists and pulls on them until you’re seated fully on top of him again. His eyes roam down your flushed skin before returning to your own dilated orbs, not saying anything as he continues to chuckle and puts your hands on his chest. He doesn’t let go until he’s sure you won’t move away from him, and as soon as he removes his grip, you mourn the loss of his touch, looking down at your skin to see if the fire spreading across your fingertips was real or if it was merely a feeling he imprinted on your body. 

“I- I must really not be pleasing to you if you’re looking at me and laughing.” You crack a smile, but it barely reaches your ears. You hope that he doesn’t notice how disappointed you are in his reaction to your performance, but when you turn your attention from his collar to his features, you can tell that he can see the sudden lack of excitement exuding from your whole body. 

“It is not your performance I find amusing, little one, but the manner in which you gaze upon me.” Obi-Wan remarks as he allows himself to touch you more intimately, sliding his palms up and down your thighs as if he was trying to calm down a loth-cat. You shiver at the contact, not bothering to hide the effect he was having on you as you melt against him and slowly place your hands atop his. He doesn’t stop, and instead smiles softly at you as he reaches past your upper thighs and grabs your hips. He squeezes you gently, and when your breath hitches at the heat spreading across your form, he holds onto you a little bit harder until you can’t help but meet his gaze. 

“How so?” The question barely comes out louder than a whisper, and you watch with fascination as the Jedi Master shamelessly eyes your heaving chest and licks his lips at the sight of your hardened nipples. 

“Of the two of us, I am more decent. Yet you look upon me as if I am a jorgan fruit when it is I who should consider you among the ripest of sweets.” The eloquence with which he speaks elevates your heart rate, and you don’t realize how hard you’re breathing until he drags one of your hands to his mouth and lays the softest of kisses right above your wrist. You stop breathing altogether, too captivated by the gesture to focus on anything but him, and the confidence he exuded with something as simple as a kiss. 

Obi-Wan doesn’t let go of you, not even when you look away from him and attempt to get back to what you were doing before. He rests your hand on his chest again, letting go of you only to drag his fingers across your nude form until he has your waist beneath his touch. You expect him to guide you across his lap, but he does nothing of the sort, opting to just keep his touch on your heated skin while you take whatever you want from him. 

“Hmm, it’s a shame they hide you behind all those hideous Jedi robes.” You say as you guide your hands up and down his chest, not caring for how wanton you must appear to him as you slide one of your fingers past the brown robes covering his chest so you can get a little closer to his body. You know he must be wearing multiple layers but something about feeling his muscles a little better than before sends you into a frenzy, and you roll your hips against his crotch in an attempt to get a rise out of him. 

But he wouldn’t be who he is if he didn’t have unspeakable self-control, and you silently curse him for being so contained when he doesn’t even increase pressure on your waist or change his expression to warn you. He just stares, and although the blue in his eyes is barely visible, you can tell that he isn’t going to fall to your antics any time soon. 

“Then again, we can’t have you walking around distracting everyone with your impressive form.” You lean forward until his breath fans over your cheeks, and as you turn to the side to kiss his jaw, you slide your hands up his body and cup his neck to make sure he won’t turn away from you. To your surprise, his grip tightens around your waist and pulls you firmly against him. You’re not sure if he wants you to comment on the thickness hitting your inner thigh or not, but you say nothing and enjoy the slow and steady movement he’s leading you through against him. 

“On second thought, maybe they should put you in more revealing robes. You can distract the enemy with those thick thighs of yours, perhaps even your hands.” You shut your eyes and whisper into his ears, giggling against his skin as he digs his nails into your muscles and forces you to stop. You want to lean back to get a better look at him, but something tells you that if you were to make eye contact with him now, you would forgo whatever self-respect you still had and get on all fours for him. Thankfully, Obi-Wan breaks the silence and responds to your brazen remarks. 

“I have heard many compliments before, but never one addressing my hands.”

“That’s a shame, Master Obi-Wan,” you sit up slowly and wait until you have his undivided attention before you take hold of one of his hands, winking at him as you intertwine your fingers with his own and squeeze them gently, “your hands are the first things I noticed about you.”

“Hmm.” Obi-Wan hums when he sees you drag his hand to your mouth until your lips come in contact with one of his fingers. The low sound emanating from his chest makes you shift across his lap to alleviate the pressure threatening to embarrass you further, and you stick your tongue out to lick the tip of his thumb as soon as you notice his eyes roam down your body and almost take notice of the damp material shielding you from him. 

“The way you rub your beard with them when you’re in deep thought makes me wish I could feel them on my skin. They’ve been on my mind all week long if I’m being honest.” You somehow manage to confess your desires to him without tripping over your words, and you choose to suck his thumb deeper into your mouth right as he attempts to respond to you. 

“And what-” the words die in his throat as soon as he feels the heat of your mouth engulf his thumb completely, and he clenches his jaw tightly when your tongue swirls around his finger several times until it’s completely drenched with your drool. “I apologize, what have you thought of when you studied them?” He manages to ask when you finally stop torturing him, but the relief barely remains because you drop his hand suddenly and throw your head back in pleasure when his palm accidentally grazes your breast, the wet thumb barely coming in contact with your nipple before he’s snatching his hand away as if you were molten fire. You snap your attention back to him a moment later, smiling to yourself when you see his pink features blush a deeper shade of red. 

Unlike before, when you could clearly see discomfort etched across his entire body from how intimately you were touching him, you’re taken aback by how oddly calm he is now, and you gyrate your hips a little more aggressively on top of him when you feel his hands grab even harder onto your waist and push you back and forth against him. Neither of you say anything as he slowly moves against you, and you return your attention to his chest in an attempt to ground yourself. The last thing you expected from him, especially after the earlier conversation, was to be so comfortable in touching you, let alone allow you to be so forward with him. You bite into your lower lip when you see him wet his unfairly-kissable lips, and as he mirrors your actions and his eyes darken the longer he looks at you, you moan at the thought of finally tasting him. 

“I thought about if they would feel soft as you trailed them across my neck…or if they would feel calloused from battle as you- maker, as you touched me somewhere more intimate.” Throwing all caution aside, you slither both of your hands down his body until they’re right above his wrists, and before you can get embarrassed by what you’re doing, you drag one of them up your body until he cups one of your breasts, pushing the other one in between your thighs to show him just how much you want him. Obi-Wan sucks in a harsh breath at finally feeling the effect he is having on you, and he barely manages to hold back from fondling your tits or slipping his fingers past your wet panties. He doesn’t dare move a muscle, afraid that whatever spell the two of you were bound by would evaporate and he would be reminded why he shouldn’t be here, beneath you, allowing you to touch him so carelessly. Before he can take his hands back, however, you finish the rest of your confession and send his thoughts into a frenzy, one he hoped he would never fall into again. 

“I thought of how difficult it would be for me to break from them if you held me down as you- stars, as you moved against me.” With each word you whisper to him, you thrust your crotch harshly against the hard outline on his trousers, all the while moaning his name when his hands flex unintentionally and send a strike of pleasure down your spine. He is yet to move his fingers on top of you, but you find ecstasy in the warmth of his skin regardless. When you look down and see his eyes glaze over with pure desperation, you stop moving your hips and lean forward until you’re a hairbreadth away from his lips. 

“I thought of how deliciously painful they would feel if you tugged on my hair as you, hmm.” You don’t finish the rest of your sentiment, a part of you hoping that this would be the push he needs to put the two of you out of your misery. Obi-Wan says nothing for what feels like hours, but as soon as you tilt your head to the side and hover your lips over his, he breaks the silence and shuts his eyes in anticipation. 

“As I what?”

He expects you to finish what you started, let go and mold your lips with his until neither of you can breathe. He even parts his lips and leans forward to let you know that he doesn’t mind whatever you want to do to him. But when he doesn’t feel you grow closer to him, his eyes flutter open and he furrows his eyebrows as he registers the smirk etched on your pretty features. 

“I don’t want to offend your sensibilities, remember?” You whisper to him teasingly, and if Obi-Wan hadn’t spent decades mastering the art of self-control, he’s sure he would have had you caged beneath him on the floor within the blink of an eye. You raise a curious eyebrow at him, letting out a faint giggle when you look into his eyes and see the fury threatening to overtake you at any given moment. In all honesty, you expect him to pull you into his embrace and kiss you harshly until you can’t feel anything but him. You even thought he would ask you before he would do such a thing, seeing as he was more of a gentleman than the others who visited you. 

Or so you thought…

What you don’t expect, however, was to suddenly feel his hand combing through your hair and tugging on it violently until the only thing you could register was the pain spreading across your scalp. You fall forward rather unceremoniously, crying out in a mixture of ecstasy and hurt when he drags the other hand up your body and rests it across your neck. You barely have any time to come to terms with what’s happening, and as you try to sit up so you can look into his eyes, the Jedi Master brings you flush against him and sits up, not bothering to apologize for the way he’s manhandling you as he applies more pressure on your neck to grab your attention.

“As. I. What?” He spits the words out while studying your features for any discomfort, and you smile deeply at him the harder he chokes the air out of your lungs. The hand in your hair tugs violently onto your locks and you try to throw your head back to move along with him, but he doesn’t let you, instead keeping your head centered so you can’t look anywhere else but into his eyes. What you find staring back at you should be terrifying, the sheer need to possess and claim every bit of you coming to light so naturally to him, but you swallow the lump in your throat and surrender yourself completely to him, knowing that you would never be safer than you were in this moment. 

“As you fucked me until the whole of Coruscant knew who was making me feel so kriffing good.” You choke through the words, whimpering his name to plead with him one last time in hopes of finally getting what you want. The sound of his name falling from your lips must be all he needs to hear because your entire body falls forward soon after, and you are met with a pair of soft, hungry lips covering your own in a heated kiss. You're shocked by the turn of events, but the surprise wears off a second later when Obi-Wan sneaks his tongue into your mouth and begins to taste you. You want to maneuver yourself to get more comfortable, but the hold he has on you doesn’t give you any room to move a muscle without his approval. He must know what you want to do because he tilts your head to the side and moans as you melt against him and part your lips wider. You shiver at his dominant touch, grasping onto his robes to keep yourself grounded when the hand in your hair slides down your backside and pushes you impossibly closer to him.

Your lips fall apart at the intimacy of the moment, and you feel your skin flush with goosebumps at being so naked with a fully-dressed Jedi beneath you. He doesn’t slow down once, continuing his assault on your lips until you can no longer breathe, until the only option left for you is to silently beg him to break apart. Your heaving chest draws his attention for a fraction of a second, his eyes trailing down your neck to your sternum with a hunger he never thought he would feel again. When you don’t open your eyes, Obi-Wan leans down and licks across your clavicle, moaning your name repeatedly as the taste of your sweet perfume and sweat seeps into his senses. You call out his name repeatedly, pushing your breasts closer to his mouth in an attempt to tempt his lips to wrap around your nipples and stake his claim on you. Obi-Wan takes advantage of your incoherence, pulling away from your nude body until you were no longer experiencing the heat of his body. He waits until your eyes flutter open before he completely lets go of you and rests his hands on his thighs. 

“Good girl, now get on your knees.” He eyes your shaking form and chuckles to himself at the ease with which he already has you wrapped around his finger. 

“W-what?” You try to escape the haze he’s placed you under, but all you can think of is the heated look he’s giving you as he reaches over and grabs his drink. You’re still seated in his lap, but unlike before, when he ensured you were touching every bit of him, Obi-Wan spreads his legs wider until you can only straddle one of his thighs. 

“I said, on your knees.” He nods towards the ground, taking a sip from his drink and making a show of swallowing the bitter liquid as you obey him and move to the space in between his thighs. You keep your hands on his knees, unsure of where exactly you were allowed to touch him. Your compliance makes his cock painfully hard, and he hisses in discomfort when he tries to adjust himself and only brings his crotch closer to your mouth. It’s getting extremely difficult to breathe, and Obi-Wan attempts to distract himself by reaching for your hair and moving it to the side so he can take a better look at you. You follow his touch like a kitten, and he bites into his cheek to prevent himself from dragging you against the wall and shoving his cock into your wet pussy until you couldn’t feel anything but him. He snatches his hand back, afraid of what he would do to you should you continue chasing his touch the way you are now. 

“Now, be a dear heart and make yourself come on my shoe.” Obi-Wan commands with a dominance you never thought you would be at the receiving end of, let alone from him. Sure the other Jedi tended to lean towards similarly assertive tendencies, but something about the tone with which he was aiming at you now made you clench your thighs and sigh in desperation. 

“I- I don’t think I can.” You respond with feigned innocence, wanting him to slowly approach the point of no return with you. You had a feeling he was capable of much more than he was showing you now, and you wanted to see how far you can go before he would lose it all together and do whatever he pleased with your willing body. However, Obi-Wan was much smarter, and even more patient, than you gave him credit for. He smiles deeply, an expression you would have credited to a Sith than a Jedi, and leans down until you can practically taste his breath on your tongue. 

“Perhaps you would be more willing to try if I offered you an incentive? Make yourself come on my shoe before I finish my drink,” he makes a show of swirling his drink around until he was sure you were giving him your undivided attention, “and you can use either of my hands for your own pleasure. I will, of course, happily oblige should you need the necessary…motions.” His eyes glisten dangerously, and had you not seen his kindness firsthand, you would have thought him capable of the most vicious mind tricks, ones that led you into this very moment purposely. You eyes the drink for a moment before gazing into his eyes, not bothering to hide your nervousness as you swallow the lump in your throat and reach for his hand. He doesn’t move a muscle, taking in the way you caress his knuckles slowly with one finger before enveloping his whole hand with your own. Neither of you is sure whose skin is running hot, but you don’t dwell too long on it, certainly not when he was letting you touch him so closely without disagreement. You pass your fingers gently over the veins adorning the top of his hand, and if you weren’t being asked to make a decision quickly, you would have asked him if it was possible to worship both of his hands to further prove how much you ache for him. 

But that wasn’t the case, and you needed to give him an answer soon, before he thought twice of what he was doing and retraced his words.

“But you said that I can’t leave any visible markings on you!?” You mean to tease him further, long enough to prepare yourself to do whatever he wants, but your words have a somewhat opposite effect on him because a flash of regret, just a slight bit, passes through his features before the smile settles again. You expect him to come to his senses now, realize that he shouldn’t be doing this with you, but the opposite occurs, and you sink comfortably against him as he leans back and relaxes against the couch. 

“The terms have changed,” the effortless manner with which he answers you makes you shift closer to him, and you grab onto his thigh when he widens his stance and moves his leg until the leather of his boot nestles perfectly in between your thighs, “and right now, I desperately wish to see you drench me with your essence.” Obi-Wan doesn’t react to your surprised expression, tilting his head to the side in amusement when you blink nervously at him as you look down and settle yourself on top of his shoe. You dig your nails into the fabric of his trousers in an attempt to have better control over your motions. The Jedi Master doesn’t move one muscle, wanting to see how willing you are to listen to him, especially now that he’s requested from you a rather embarrassing feat. 

Ignoring the embarrassment quickly filling your lungs, you bite into your lower lip and look up into Obi-Wan’s eyes as you move your hips forward once. Your breath catches in your throat at the coarse sensation spreading up your spine, and you regret not taking off your panties before getting down on your knees for him. When you find nothing but sheer pleasure etched on Obi-Wan’s face, you buck your hips once more, moaning softly when you feel his foot move to rub against your clothed cunt a little more harshly. With each motion you take over his boot, the Jedi Master moves his foot along with you, all the while taking small sips from his drink to enjoy the effect he was having on you. 

As your ministrations increase, you find more pleasure in the contact between your wet folds and the wet, rough patch of your lace panties as they catch against your clit each time Obi-Wan raises his foot or pushes it forward to stroke you harder. At a particular push from Obi-Wan, your body falls forward and you rest your cheek against his thigh. As soon as you hear his chuckle, you begin to fuck yourself on his shoe without a care for how you look, the need to reach your pleasure outdoing any shyness you may have held for acting like loth-cat in heat. 

“Oh little one, you would truly obey any command I give you, wouldn’t you?” His chuckle should have pushed you away from him, made you realize how ridiculous you look as you use his foot to get off. But it holds the opposite effect on you, and you manage to look up through dazed eyes just in time to respond to him and push yourself down harder on his now soaking boot. 

“Yes M-master.” Your response must not be what Obi-Wan expects because his eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he clears his throat and takes another sip from his drink. He watches with fascination as you continue to ride his boot, briefly looking down at your shaking thighs to commit to memory the dance your body was gracing him with. 

“Look at you, using my shoe to get off. You must be desperate to come if you’re acting like a cockdumb w-” He shakes his head as he talks down to you, and it’s only when you part your lips and bite into his thigh that he catches the words that were about to spill into the air and offend you. His body goes rigid, not because you seem to quicken your actions at the outburst of words he threw at you, but because he allowed himself to be careless enough to almost degrade you. 

“Please, keep…keep talking,” you’re panting at this point, violently rubbing your pussy down on his foot to reach that little high he’s promised to extend should you obey his commands. When he doesn’t respond right away, you force yourself to look up at him and silently beg him to continue. 

“I- I didn’t mean to-” Obi-Wan trips over his words, and you groan in irritation when you feel your orgasm begin to fade away now that he wasn’t moving his foot or talking you into coming on him.  

“Stop fucking apologizing and keep talking. I don’t care what- what you say. Call me whatever you want to call me, just please…please keep talking.” You snap at him in anger, only to panic as you realize how he may react. Maker, if he chose this very moment to punish you for your words, for presuming to speak with him in such a way, you think you might actually die from the sheer sexual frustration he’s placed you under. A few silent moments pass, but you don’t stop once, widening your legs further so you can feel as much of the leather of his boot pass over your cunt as possible. You throw your head down, resting on his knee as you fuck yourself on his boot, and only when you sense him moving beneath you do you finally look up into his eyes. 

“My darling girl is nothing but a whore for me, isn’t she?” His voice is raw, his tone almost as needy as you are, and you drag your lower lip in between your teeth as soon as he comes forward and whispers down at you. “You’re a whore for a Jedi Master you barely know. I have barely touched you, yet your sweet cunt is weeping for me, begging for me.” The truth overshadowing his words shouldn’t make you want him more, but you cry out his name as you wrap your mind around what he’s revealing to you. A small, more coherent voice in the back of your mind warns of the consequences of proving him right, but you brush it aside as his boot moves up and down against your clothed cunt. “That’s it, get my shoe nice and wet for me. Let me walk around with the scent of you etched on my clothes.” You move your hands up his thighs, closer to where you wish you can touch him, and Obi-Wan waits until your palms near his crotch before distracting your mind, winking once at you as he tips his drink back and swallows down the bittersweet drink. 

“How do you feel, little star?” He sets the drink down on his other thigh as he rubs his mustache and beard, his chest filling with pride when he sees the effect such a simple action has on you. 

“I- I want more, please.” You plead with him, letting go of his clothes to reach down and push your panties to the side. But Obi-Wan is much quicker, and you feel an invisible hold clasp onto your wrist and prevent you from moving so much as an inch. Shock replaces the shameless hunger that has overtaken your entire body, and you look down to see if he’s somehow grabbed hold of your hand without you noticing. When you see that there was clearly nothing wrapped around your skin, you shoot your attention back to him and gasp as realization washes over you. 

Maker. 

He was using the Force to control you. 

Not even the other Jedi dared to dominate you in such a way. They often spoke of how unique and sacred their connection with the Force was. To be at the receiving end of such power, especially when it was Obi-Wan who was coaxing you into submission, made you feel special.

It was exhilarating. 

“Give me what I asked for, and you will get more.” He says matter-of-factly, causing you to flinch at the sudden edge dancing in his voice. You don’t try to move your hand again, unsure of what would happen should he mistake your attempt to return your hand to his thigh as a silent request to let go of you. He must be able to read your mind somehow because he moves your hand back to his thigh for you, the corner of his mouth turning up into a grin as your body shakes with newfound energy. He doesn’t dwell too long on your reaction to having him control you through the Force, knowing that if he were to humor it for another second, he would have complete control over your body in the blink of an eye and decide to have his way with you. 

“Kriff, can you at least ahh-” Your needy response snaps him out of his momentary haze, the sound of your voice turning into a rather inappropriate groan shooting straight to his cock. He can feel himself harden the longer he studies your ecstasy, and it takes every ounce of control in his body to not reach down and free his cock so he could shove it in your mouth. 

“What does my needy little cockslut want? Use your words, my darling, and tell me what it is you desire.” He asks instead, hoping that you can distract him long enough to finally give him what he wanted ever since he walked into the room. 

“Y-your hands.” The whispered confession makes him straighten his back, and were it not for the constant pull and push of your hips against him, Obi-Wan is sure he would have been the one begging you to touch him. 

“How do you want them?” He humors you, knowing fully well that he isn’t going to retract his promise and give you his hand sooner than he intends. 

“In my hair…a-around my throat, in my mouth…I don’t care Master, I just want you to touch me with your hands. Please, I’ll do anything you want.” The sinful exclamation hits Obi-Wan like a blaster, and he realizes quickly that his previous thought was far from the truth. He was sure of the extent to which you wanted him, but he never thought you were the type to be so lust-hazed and shameless to the point of outright telling him that you would do anything he asked of you just to have him touch you with his hands. 

“You may regret those words, darling girl.” Obi-wan comments dangerously, and you frantically shake your head at him to prove to him that you are telling the truth. 

“Oh maker, I’m so close. Please Master, touch me.” You beg one last time, praying to the maker that he has mercy on you and gives you what you need to finally reach that inevitable ecstasy. You’ve lost yourself to the sensation dragging deliciously against your wet cunt, focusing every last bit of your attention on rubbing your clit over the smooth leather of his boots repeatedly until you finally come and please him. As you drag your pussy over and over again, you vaguely feel him moving above you, and somehow manage to open your eyes just in time to see him stare you down as he brings the glass to his lips and drink down the last bit of whiskey, the few droplets adorning his lips forcing you to cry out in pain at the thought of not meeting his expectations, and in turn, missing out on feeling his hands roam over your body. 

“No, no please I’m-” before you can finish whatever desperate plea threatening to make you look even more ridiculous, Obi-Wan slams the whisky glass down on the table beside him before reaching out and taking hold of your neck. You throw your head back to relish the hot, tight feeling of his palm as it squeezed your jugular tightly, only to gasp his name lewdly when his other hand twists in your hair and tugs on it until he has full control of your upper body. You part your lips in a silent scream, looking into Obi-Wan’s dilated orbs through heavy-lidded eyes as he brings your attention back to him in time to watch you fall apart at his touch. He parts his lips in kind, exhaling slowly as he commits to memory the intimacy of the moment, the quickness with which your beautiful, debauched features change as you’re on the verge of coming. The Jedi Master leans down even closer until he’s breathing the same air you are, and he tightens his hold on your neck one last bit, enough to push you over the edge and watch as you come undone for him. 

 “I…I’m cuh-  ahhhh,” the words die in your throat as you seize up, and Obi-Wan uses this moment to his advantage, quickly moving his foot back and forth when he notices you are no longer able to move on top of him. He glances down just in time to see his boot glisten with your cum, and he swears silently at the filthy sight of your lace panties drenching further the harder he rubs his boot against you. He tilts his head to the side to lay the softest of kisses over your forehead, not bothering to stop his ministrations until he has coaxed every last ounce of pleasure from you. He had asked you to fuck yourself on his boot, and you obeyed him with enthusiasm. Although you didn’t particularly carry out his command, Obi-Wan understood the difficulty of what he asked. His “aid” had nothing to do with his need to mark your body with his touch or see evidence of your pleasure seep onto his clothes. Not at all. 

At least that’s what he would tell himself long after he returns home. 

His attention returns to you once more when he feels your body go limp against him. Your hands suddenly let go of his trousers and you sigh heavily as you melt into his touch. Obi-Wan feels an invisible string tug at his heart when he sees your vulnerability push through everything else threatening to distract him away from the intimacy of the moment. He’s unsure of the sudden emotions threatening to overtake him, and it’s only when he opens up to your Force signature that he finally understands the storm brewing in his chest. 

You were, in every sense of the word, completely submitting to him. 

And your Force signature, with its fiery and heated flares, was longing for the merest of touches from his own, somewhat controlled aura. He was shaking, partially from the trust you were offering to me, but mostly due to the yearning he felt through the Force, as if you were reaching out to him with reluctance and hope, wishing that he would offer you a similar sentiment. 

His hold loosens around your neck as he becomes increasingly distracted by you, and as he tries to maneuver you around so you don’t fall to the ground, he accidentally moves his foot and causes you to flinch to life from how sensitive you probably were. A shiver courses down your spine at the touch of the leather in between your thighs, and you try to help him with your body weight, but fail miserably when it occurs to you that he’s truly rendered you motionless. 

“Come here, little one.” He soothes your muscles as he drapes you over his lap, until you rest your head on his shoulder and your legs lay across his body comfortably. 

“You did so well for me, so well for your Master.” Obi-Wan tilts your chin up, smiling down at the blissed out expression you grace him with before he leans down and kisses your forehead again. The hair of his beard tickles you softly, and when he begins to move away, you seek him out and slide your hands up his neck, wanting to touch as much of him as possible. He chuckles at your neediness, throwing his head back momentarily when you nuzzle into his neck and inhale deeply. 

“T-thank you,” you whisper in return, all the while fisting your hands into the fabric of his beige tunic to feel grounded. It’s not possible to return to your senses so soon, but you feel as if your skin will crawl with ants if you aren’t touching him closely and relishing in the proximity he’s offering you so willingly. You stick your nose into the side of his neck as you bring yourself impossibly closer to him, wanting to commit his scent and his taste, and the rigidity of his muscular body to memory. The man has only teased you for the past week, even more so in the past hour alone, so you couldn’t pass up the chance of diving into this sensation if you could. He was here, in your arms, letting you do as you pleased with him as if you were more to each other than complete strangers, as if your link of work wasn’t accidently entangled with his for the time being. 

Your eyes flutter open when your brain finally comes to again, and you’re met with a rather reddened patch of skin extending down from his cheeks to his neck. You turn away to take a better look at him, your breath hitching dramatically when you find his normally blue eyes almost as black as the night. It wasn’t as if you thought he wouldn’t be affected by your actions, but you were definitely shocked by the extent to which he was, especially when you were the one pleading for him to pull you towards that high. You blink once before you lean up and kiss his jaw, finding the thick hair adorning his handsome features more of a turn on that you cared to admit. He groans when your lips rest on his cheek, the simple gesture meant to illustrate to him the depths of your need instead sending a strike of heat straight to his cock. He hates that it makes him twitch in his pants, how soft your lips caress his skin, how heated it makes him feel when it doesn’t compare anywhere near what you just did to him. 

For him. 

When he’s sure you won’t mind it, Obi-Wan slips his hand over your clavicle and grabs the hair at the nape of your neck, waiting until you pull away from him before he breaks the silence. 

“As promised…my hands to do with whatever you desire.” The cheeky comment breathes life into your body and you rest your head on his hand when you notice him trying to pull away. He pauses for a moment, looking across your features to commit every crease and every flushed skin to memory. Knowing that it would be unfair to hold out any longer, he takes his hand away and roams it down your body, briefly passing his palm over your nude torso as he pays every inch of you equal attention. You shiver when one of his hands wraps around your waist and squeezes you tightly, only to feel the other dig into your upper thigh until the flushed skin turned a lighter color. 

Gods above. You hoped he could handle you a little harder, leave his mark for you to reminisce over long after he leaves. You’re close to asking him to do so even, but then you meet his gaze and instantly drop your focus to his reddened lips. Gone is the need to have him color your body with brushing devotion, the feeling immediately replaced with a desperation to have his lips engulf your own in a heated kiss overtaking your entire person until you can no longer hold back from asking him the necessary question. 

“Master Obi-Wan, may I please kiss you?” You reluctantly inquire, never once breaking eye contact with him out of fear of missing any discomfort he may try to hide for the sake of “repaying” your hospitality. You’re about to spiral down that line of thought when Obi-Wan furrows his eyebrows curiously at you, as if you just asked him a completely random, and unnecessary question. 

“Have I not given you permission before, dear heart?” His hold tightens around you when your body moves, and you beg your heart to calm down, afraid that it may betray you and fool you into thinking that he fears you removing yourself from him. 

“Yes but-” You try to explain to him that you value his consent above all else, but he doesn’t give you a chance to say anything else, launching himself forward and smashing his lips against your own. Whereas the earlier kiss stole your breath away with how aggressive and demanding it was, this one makes you forget how to function altogether. You shove your hands into his auburn locks as soon as you feel the hand around your back slide up to your neck and push on your head. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was as desperate for you as you were for him, but you don’t think on that, once again afraid of what your mind might run away with if you allowed it to humor such a sentiment. Parting your lips for him, you dare to sneak your tongue into his mouth to explore him as you dreamt for so long, sighing heavily against him when you’re met with an equally excited but more dominant tongue swirling around your own. The taste of him is intoxicating, somehow sweet and bitter at the same time. You think perhaps that the latter comes from the whiskey, but you realize that he may be a combination of both naturally. 

It quickly becomes unimportant to you as soon as Obi-Wan growls into the kiss. Up until now, you’ve barely heard any reaction from him except for the occasional low moan, but here he was, assaulting you with a hunger you never thought you would be at the receiving end of, and revealing to you just how much he wants you. The sounds escaping his throat make you clench your thighs together, and you try to break the kiss to ask him if he can slip his hand in between your legs but as soon as you pull away, the fingers intertwined in your hair tug harshly and force you back against his lips. You don’t try to do anything of the likes again, content with surrendering yourself to the Jedi Master you prayed to the maker would spare you a second glance. It’s only when you accidentally grace your nails against his neck that he pulls away and swears openly against your mouth, his breaths coming in harshly and quickly, as if he was trying to breathe in the air leaving your lungs and nothing else. 

“Oh sweet one, your lips must have been crafted by the angels, for they are the softest creation I have had the pleasure of touching.” Obi-Wan doesn’t give you a chance to say anything else, returning his attention to your lips once more in an attempt to make you forget everything except him. He becomes more bold, waiting until you sigh openly into his mouth before taking your lower lip in between his teeth and biting down on it. You’re not sure what it is that makes you jump in shock, the rather aggressive behavior he was allowing himself to experience with you or the sheer desperation that must be clouding his thoughts to the point where he felt the need to claim your mouth with such ferocity. You don’t bother trying to think of anything else except how full and dominant his lips feel around your own, and only when he pushes his tongue violently into your mouth that you suddenly have the urge to suck on it. You do without a second thought, hoping that he doesn’t find the action too childish or presumptive. His opinion on the matter is revealed instantaneously when he moans lewdly against you and tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss. 

You’re not sure how long the two of you sit there drowning in each other, but when the need for air outgrows the desire for each other, Obi-Wan lets go and sits back against the couch, wrapping his arm around your waist to make sure that you won’t try to pull too far apart from him. He nudges your hair with his nose, taking in a deep breath to fill his senses with your sweet scent. He isn’t sure how to make sense of it, but he thinks that it compliments your Force signature well.  

“You don’t need to say those words, I- I will do anything to make you feel good.” You interrupt his journey to memorizing every aspect of your presence, and it’s only when the self-deprecating claim finally registers in his mind that he leans back and frowns at you.

“You think my words are untruthful?”

“It…they’re not- I didn’t…” You’re not sure why his reaction makes you regret ever speaking your mind, but you cradle his neck as you try to explain to him why you had to tell him how you feel. Thankfully, Obi-Wan notices your struggle, and he removes his hand from your nude skin, mirroring your actions and cupping your cheek until you are forced to only look at him. 

“Little one, if the past hour proved anything, it is that you are willing to offer yourself to me without anything in return.” He says strictly, the tone of his voice, although edgy, manages to soothe you into satisfaction. The contentment washing over you isn’t out of pride, as if you wanted to hear those specific words uttered from him, but more of a reflection of your insecurities when met with someone as kind and beautiful as him. 

“I need not lie to get what I crave from you.” Obi-Wan continues, the thin cerulean line visible behind his dilated pupils shifting you back into a trance where he is the sole ruler of the universe. 

“So I assure you, whatever falls from my lips journeys straight from my heart.” The conviction with which he delivers the soulfull sentiment sends you into a silent frenzy, and you try to thank him for putting your mind at ease, for understanding the battle currently storming across your mind, but all that comes out is his name, barely louder than a whisper, breathed enough only for him to hear, as if the universe would fall apart if anyone else heard you. 

“Obi-Wan.”

“Besides, the acquaintance of your beauty, and honor, will never fail to amaze me. I- I find it difficult to speak less of the effect you have on me, sweet one.” He passes his thumb over your lower lip, utterly mesmerized by the tenderness and compliance returning his affections. The cloud misting over him lifts when Obi-Wan notices a hunt of giddy unrest fills his senses. He knows it’s not him, because he’s never felt this calm and wanting before, so he’s instantly alert because the prospect of being the reason behind the sudden spike of panic in your Force signature brings discomfort to the forefront of his mind. 

“I- I need you. Now, please. Whatever you’re willing to give me, I- I just want you to touch me.” Your voice is shaking, a manifestation of whatever your mind and body were currently experiencing, and as much as the Jedi Master hates to admit it, it makes him feel better that your agitation was born out of the sheer need you reserve for him and not because he’s done something to upset you.  

“Where do you want me to touch you?” He wonders as softly as he can, wanting to bring your nerves back down so you could tell him exactly what you want from him. 

“Anywhere…e-everywhere.” Your breathing is somewhat less erratic than a moment ago, and Obi-Wan’s chest fills with pride and possession at the thought of being the sole reason behind your nearly-tangible arousal. 

“Hmm, as tempting as that sounds,” he makes a show of drawing his eyes across your body slowly, licking his lips and humming in approval when he notices how hard your nipples are. He continues his journey down your form, already knowing where he most wants to touch you, but he decides to toy with you a little bit longer, wanting to drag this out as much as possible so your pleasure reaches a new height when he finally slips his fingers in between your thighs. 

“Obi-Wa..ahhh-” you whine his name, only to throw your head back when you feel his fingers come to rest against your clothed, heated core. He has barely touched you, the palm of his hand only managing to contain the damp, hot sensation pulsating across your slit, but you can’t find it in yourself to say anything, let alone breathe properly, out of fear of splitting your attention with the feeling of his capable, strong hand as it held you tightly. 

“I think I will start with this sweet little cunt that has been weeping for my attention.” Obi-Wan coos against your skin, licking the shell of your ear as he tests the waters and gently rubs the damp patch of the lace panties shielding you from him. Your thighs fall wide open almost immediately, causing him to move down the sofa so he can accommodate you better. He spread his own legs to ensure that you won’t slide off of him, unable to hold back the moan that rumbles through his chest when he looks down and sees just how soaked you are. 

“Oh darling darling girl, you are positively drenched for me. Is this all for me? Are you this wet for a man you barely know?” He questions lewdly, his voice a mixture of unabashed hunger and barely-contained excitement. You shut your eyes to relish the sensations his careful, unhurried ministrations are sending up your spine, only to flutter them open when he taps twice against your engorged clit in warning. You barely manage to open your eyes, and when you turn to look at him, you shudder at the absolutely maddening, lust-filled gaze he throws at you. It’s only when he draws lazy circles over the flimsy fabric that you remember he’s asked you a question, and you nearly shake your head to try and recall what it was he wanted to know.

“Yes- oh maker, yes. It’s for you…it’s all f-for you.”

Your response must please Obi-Wan because he clenches his jaw tightly and forgoes the plan he originally held for you. Without a warning, he lunges forward and swallows your moans as he slips his fingers beneath your panties, coating his hand with your wetness right before pushing two, thick digits into your cunt. You arch your back as soon as you feel his expert fingers slide deeper into your aching pussy, your own hands shooting to his robes in an attempt to grow closer to him. You expected him to set an unforgiving pace, make you cry out from the possessive nature of his fingers, until your body recognized the marks of his touch and waited for them again. But he doesn’t, and a small part of you wishes he was as cruel as you thought him capable of being. 

“H-how are you this fucking tight? Stars, the things I could do to your filthy body.” He breaks your train of thought, breathing the words harshly against your lips while sliding his fingers inside you until your walls flutter around the length of his calloused digits. He doesn’t move then, wanting to simply feel the heat of your cunt. When he does finally move, it’s as if a thousand stars exploded across your body, all due to the expert curl of his fingers and the delicious way the ridges along the palm of his hand slide against your clit. You part your lips to let out a scream, but only silence follows as the thickness filling you passes perfectly against your tight walls, deep enough to tease that spongy, sensitive place that makes you cry in ecstasy. Obi-Wan grins at you, leaning over and kissing the corner of your mouth until the only sensation you are experiencing is him.  

“If I asked you to get on your hands and knees for me…right this moment, would you listen to me dear one?” He practically growls the question, the pet name falling from his lips driving you mad with need to have him only ever call you as such. You’re rather shocked by how easy it comes to him, but you don’t question it, not wanting him to withdraw such sentimental words and call you something else.

“Yes Master, I- I would. I’ll do anything you want me to do. I- oh gods…I promise.” Your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper, only to switch into a lewd scream when he rubs his palm against your clit while circling his fingers against your quivering walls. 

“You may want to retract such valuable words.” The Jedi Master warns, sending a wave of goosebumps over your skin with the serious, almost threatening tone of his voice. 

“N-never.”

“You do not know what I am capable of, my darling cockslut. I could pull you apart with a mere snap of my fingers, could have you begging for mercy with the flick of my thumb…if I wanted to.” He licks across your sternum, parting with his desires for you with each new bit of flesh he marks with his tongue. Obi-Wan waits until you’re so far gone in the new sensation he’s delivering to your body before making his way across the valley of your breasts, chuckling menacingly to himself when he bites just above your aching nipple and sends you into another frenzy. 

“Do y-your worst General, I can ta- ahhhh,” he cuts you off before you can finish your thought, managing to catch you off guard with his other hand as it ascends up your back and wraps around your neck while his mouth assaults your nipple. You’re not sure how he is capable of such quick, limber movements, but you find that you don’t particularly care as he grips your jugular tighter while his teeth nip and tug on your hardened peak. 

“Ah ah ah,” Obi-Wan parts his lips to warn you again, but his teeth never once ease up on your nipple as he continues to speak, “I do not recall allowing such a tone from your lips.” He manages to retort before he finally shows some mercy on your flushed skin, alternating between licking the reddened flesh and sucking on your breasts to leave more harsh marks wherever he pleases. 

“Master, I-” There’s not an ounce of coherence left in your mind, and you aren’t exactly certain of what it is you were about to ask him, but the moment derails quickly when Obi-Wan cuts you off, yet again, and offers you a delicious proposition.  

“Deserve to be punished?” He inquires, twisting his fingers inside your wet pussy as if his goal was to turn you into a stuttering, puddled mess. He presses down on your jugular as he increases the ministrations of his other hand, his own pleasure reaching a new zenith with he feels your throat move as you gasp for air. Obi-Wan takes this moment to truly gaze upon you, and he finds himself overflowing with hunger when he roams his eyes down your body and sees the erratic movement of your chest as it rises and falls with each harsh breath you take.

“I can feel your cunt begging to come undone for me. Go on my sweet fuckdoll, and come for your Master.”

It is frowned upon, the emotions swirling through him and threatening to make him forget what he is. Who he is. 

Obi-Wan is a Jedi, a Master who is on the Council of his kind. He knows better than anyone the dangers of feeling this level of possession of someone, this degree of attachment solely centered around an individual’s pleasure. He knows this would only complicate things, not only for himself, but for you as well. 

But as he regards you now, in the throws of passion, your lithe form giving up all control for him…to him…he simply cannot find a single care for anything expected of him, not when you were offering him such intimate salvation, a level of fulfillment and rapture unlike anything he has ever encountered before, with nothing expected of him in return. 

Master Kenobi decides, then and there, that whatever transpired this night would not be amongst the growing list of regrets he’s kept hidden in his heart ever since he came to Coruscant all those years ago.

No, the universe, perhaps even the Force itself, was offering him a guide, one that would aid him in navigating whatever the future held. Who was he to deny stardust from finding its way back into the living universe once more?

Because that’s what he considered you—after everything he witnessed in the past few rotations, and the titillating, silent conversation he’s held with you long before he walked in here—a constellation of stardust seeking him out to show him the way to a happier existence, one filled with light, warmth, and authenticity.

“I- I think I’m…Obi-” He feels his heart threaten to leap out of his chest when he turns his attention back to your features and finds your eyes glistening with unshed tears. Whether they are of pain or pleasure he is unsure, but he knows that he would wipe them away with his tongue should they roll down and caress your cheeks. Something switches in his mind, and Obi-Wan decides to put you out of your misery, wanting more than anything to watch you as you experience pleasure at his hands. 

“I know dearest, I know. And I want you to. Be a good girl and come for me. Baptize me with your essence.” He encourages you, curling his fingers violently inside you and pushing down on the curve of your walls in a come-hither gesture, watching with fascination as your muscles seize up before rippling above him. You moan rather loudly into the air, and Obi-Wan can’t help himself from shoving his fingers into your mouth to silence you. He wants nothing more than for everyone in this sector to know who’s pleasuring you, but the need to push his digits into your mouth to feel the wetness of your tongue outgrows the primal and possessive behavior over your existence and everyone around you. 

It’s only when he vaguely hears the increasing volume of wet sounds as he continues to fuck you with his fingers that he finally looks down and sees the mess you’re making of him. 

“Fuck, look at you falling apart on my fingers. You are t-the most beautiful sight I have ever beheld.” He remarks with excitement, his eyes zeroing in on your heated core as he elongates your orgasm and forces you to gush like a stream over him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s aware that you’re soaking his clothes, but he doesn’t care one bit, wanting to ensure that you have reached your high properly, sweetly. If he wants to walk around with the scent of your cum etched on his clothes, if only to feel a unique sense of joy, he doesn’t bother to make a mention of it, knowing that it would mean so much more to the two of you if he voices said desire out loud.

When the bite of your teeth over his fingers becomes slightly too painful for Obi-Wan to handle, he relaxes his hand and stops his movement altogether, not wanting to drive you into any uncomfortable oversensitivity. He doesn’t remove his fingers from your cunt, wanting to relish the way your walls quiver around him in your post-orgasmic haze. Your body shakes less violently now, but your heated core continues to flutter around him, and he doesn’t remove his eyes from your face once as he drags out his fingers a little, smiling to himself when your eyebrows contort along with your lips as feeling him softly pass over your engorged clit. He tries to remove his fingers from your mouth next, but you shift your face and follow his hand, only relaxing more into his chest when you’re sure he won’t remove them. 

The sweat clings on Obi-Wan’s forehead as he watches you suck and roll your tongue around his fingers, and if he were a better man, he would have taken this as a sign to stop this interaction before it leaves an irreversible mark on his memory. 

“T-thank you, Master Kenobi.”

Then he hears your voice, your soft, hoarse, content voice as it thanks him, and the Master Jedi is sure he wants nothing more than for things to get out of hand. In fact, he thinks he might cease to exist if he doesn’t, at the very least, feel your mouth on him. He schools his features as best as he can, even though he doesn’t mind you seeing him so unhinged, so needy for you. But he’s sensed your Force signature earlier, and he knows you don’t mind if he’s a little rough with you. Waiting until you turn to look at him, Obi-Wan smirks as he leans into you and kisses just below your ear. You whine at the close proximity, the sound turning into a lewd moan when he removes his fingers from your cunt completely and raises them until you can see them. You gasp when you follow the trail of wetness down his arm and notice evidence of your orgasm across his robes. There is a moment of panic that fills the silence stretching between the two of you and you turn to him quickly, your mind already racing with apologetic words you should tell him so he doesn’t leave you now. 

But you don’t find an angry or disappointed look in his eyes as you expected. Instead, Obi-Wan is staring at you as if you’ve given him such a precious gift, one he’s been longing to receive for so long now. You swallow the lump in your throat as he drags his wet hand across your body and spreads your cum all over your breasts. When you still seem stuck in your mind, he pinches one nipple and rubs the pain away with his thumb until your eyes convey some sense of presence once more.

“Hmm,” he hums deeply, the sound reverberating through his chest making him sound like a predator happy with the prey he just caught, “do not think my generosity flows as enthusiastically as your cunt, little one.” His words send a new wave of heat across your body and you part your lips in an attempt to apologize again, but Obi-Wan shakes his head and removes his hands from you, leaving you cold and desperate for him. He nods down to his robes and throws one arm against the back of the sofa, making you wish his skin was not hidden from your hungry eyes. 

“You made a mess of my Jedi robes, and I expect you to clean them. Thoroughly.” The command surprises you, mostly because you were sure he would leave now that you broke one of the two rules he set in place before you started. You don’t mention his prior words though, knowing that he probably didn’t forget what he asked earlier, and was merely extending his ‘limits.’

“Y-yes Master.” You whisper as you push off of him, slightly wobbling on your feet as soon as you stand in between his thighs. You turn back around and feel your face flush with heat at the grin on Obi-Wan’s face. Of course he was proud of what he’s done to you. A deep breath of courage fills your lungs as you descend to the ground and sit in between his thick, wet thighs for the second time that night. You look up at him, silently asking him if you could proceed. He raises one eyebrow at you, the barely-visible cerulean of his eyes briefly shifting down to where you marked him before returning to meet your own orbs again. 

You lick your lower lip before capturing it in between your teeth, trying your best to set aside the nerves threatening to well up in your chest. He pleasured you with ease, ensuring your satisfaction was met, twice over, when he could have easily ignored you and sought out his own ecstasy. A part of you wished he could tell you exactly what he wanted you to do to him, but you got the sense that he was leaving it up to you so he wouldn’t be forcing you to do anything you didn’t want. Little did you know that Jedi Master currently eye-fucking you didn’t care what you did as long as you touched him. You take in the impressive body you somehow still had access to, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you reach up and place your hands on his chest, not caring for how ridiculous you probably looked as you dragged the palms of your hands down his body until you memorized every rough and soft ridge of him. 

When you reach the lower part of his navel, right above where you wish you could taste him, you look back into his eyes and spread your hands as far out as possible before moving them around the painful tent in his trousers, towards his inner thighs.

“F-force help me,” Obi-Wan hisses at your teasing actions, and you notice the skin of his knuckles turn even whiter as he fists his hands in the cushions around him. You want that level of passion to leave indents on your skin, but you don’t say so just yet, unsure of whether he’d be willing to go that far with you or not. Not daring to break his gaze, you oh-so-slowly lean down and shove your nose where you think the base of his cock is, shamelessly inhaling deeply until the only thing you can smell is his deep, natural musk and the faint scent of your cum sticking to the wet fabric of his trousers. 

Obi-Wan flinches at the obscene sound of your breathing, and his hands shoot to the cushions around him when you moan your pleasure against the side of his hard dick. He’s never seen such an unhinged act before, and he knows he’ll never witness one so filthy and wanton ever again. The knot in his stomach tightens further, and he tries his best to meditate on anything but the unrestrained behavior you were gracing him with, but he can’t find a single, coherent thought to latch on because you don’t stop what you’re doing and decide to pay equal attention to every inch of him. 

“What- what do you think you are doing?” Anyone else hearing the tone of his question would think he was incredibly irritated but you smile at him as you rest your cheek on his thigh, wetting your lips one more time before tilting your head until your mouth rests against the side of his cock. Without missing a beat you lay the softest of kisses on his trousers and watch with fascination as the Jedi’s hands itch to shoot to your hair and pull harshly on it until you answered his question. 

“Ever since you walked in here, I- I couldn’t stop thinking about scenting you. I wondered if you would smell like the woods, earthy and inviting…or if you would smell spicy like cinnamon and chamomile.” You pause between every other word, continuing your journey across his crotch and sniffing as much of his as possible. You shut your eyes to enjoy the moment, knowing that you’ll never have another Jedi so submissive and patient beneath you as you mapped his desires. You know it’s taking every ounce of control for Obi-Wan to not push you underneath him and remind you who’s in charge, and you relish the feeling of having this much of an effect on him. With each bit of new fabric you sniff, you feel his cock twitch against you, pushing you into leaving a trail of kisses where you wish you can touch him without any barrier. And although the thought is quite pathetic, you find yourself jealous of the cushions currently being fisted beneath his hands.  

“And maker in heaven, you…smell…absolutely…divine.” You inhale deeply in between every word, pushing your nose as violently as possible into his clothed dick until his hips buck against you. Even when you stop, you still feel him trying to push his crotch closer to your mouth, and you don’t bother denying him, parting your lips until the heat radiating off of him fills your mouth with every bit of him he attempts to shove into you. 

“F-fuck,” Obi-Wan swears desperately when he sees you stick your tongue out and drag it across the length of his cock, not stopping until his trousers hold evidence of your drool and your cum everywhere. You remember how you got into this position, and decide to take the task to a whole new level. As your eyes flutter open once more, you seek his out and wait until he shifts his focus from your mouth to your gaze before shoving his thighs farther apart. His legs spread as wide as possible and you take advantage of the shock written on his face to push him a little more. Moving your tongue around, you collect as much saliva as possible on it before spitting down on the hardness threatening to rip his trousers. Obi-wan growls, and you swear you’ve never heard a more beautiful sound in your life. Not wanting to waste any more time, you lean down and spread the new wetness across the tight fabric hiding him from you, smiling in satisfaction when you push your nose against the head of his cock and smelling the faint scent of his own pleasure seeping through the damp material. You pout when you look down and find a dry spot on his pants, and without missing a beat, you spit on your fingers and rub the trail of saliva across the base of his cock, whining your desires to him when you feel his balls against the palm of your hand. 

Obi-Wan is sure he’s died and joined the Force because never in his life did he think he’d ever be wanted so desperately. He thought you’d lick him for a few moments before asking him what else he wants from you, but it seems that you took his words more to heart than he thought you would. With each pass of your tongue, the Jedi Master feels his heart drum wildly against his chest, and with each little sniff you steal as you push your nose harshly against his achingly hard cock, he prays to the maker that he doesn’t cum in his trousers and embarrass himself in front of you. 

Up until this moment, it was clear how much you wanted him. You even told him so when you began to dance for him. But never in his wildest dreams did he think you capable of such disgustingly beautiful behavior. And even though he enjoyed every touch you offered him, he was slowly starting to fear what such knowledge would do to him following this night. 

The thought quickly evaporates from his mind, however, when you grow more bold with your hands and knead the length of him with one hand while the other reaches down to fondle his balls through the now-irritating material of his trousers. 

“No wonder you’re so confident. Your cock is so hard and thick to the touch…so hot.” He’s not sure if you’re talking to him or yourself, but he finds that it turns him on regardless because that part of him, that laid dormant for so long, was finally receiving praise for being objectively exceptional. Obi-Wan was not a vain man, far from it, but the fact that he was clearly pleasing to you made his chest fill with pride, especially since he was not the first Jedi to partake in such acts with you. He prays you continue to whisper your approval to him, not because he is doubtful of his physique, but because he needs you to never stop thinking of how perfect he is for you. “And your scent is…fuck Master, your scent is so masculine, and so fucking mouthwatering.” You lean down and fill your senses with the scent and taste of him, unable to hold back from telling him how much you crave him. 

And fuck, you did crave him…painfully. But you knew better than to ask him to cross that boundary and move into uncharted, probably uncomfortable, territory with you. 

“The- the mouth on you could raise w-worlds to ashes.” He finally breaks his silence, his voice hoarse from how dry his throat has become. It only makes you smile deeper at him, and you kiss along the hardened length of his cock to further prove his words, the taste of your cum now almost gone from him. You’re about to massage him through his trousers when he pushes his hand into your hair and pulls you off of him. The sting coursing through your scalp distracts you momentarily, but it is gone as soon as Obi-Wan lets go of your hair and immediately fumbles with the edge of his pants. 

“What-” You ask at the sudden shift in his behavior, unsure why he was now willing to cross that line, let alone take his clothes off in front of you. You want to reach out and stop him before he reveals himself to you, but you can’t find it in yourself to do so, that overwhelmed, needy part of you—that came to life as soon as you walked into this room and saw him—telling you that this was finally your chance to show him how good you can be for him. 

“Free my cock, sweet one. Now.” Obi-Wan’s breathing is erratic, and your fingers itch to aid him with his trousers when you see the intoxicating, dazed spirit that befalls him as he unfastens the top of his pants and roughly pushes them down his thighs. Your eyes widen with hunger when you look down and behold the tight, darkened undershorts leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. It’s embarrassing, the way your mouth salivates all of a sudden, and you almost choke on your breath as soon as Obi-Wan slips two of his fingers beneath the elastic of the fabric and threatens to lower them as well. 

“But you-” the last, coherent bit of your brain attempts to remind the Master Jedi of his earlier conditions, but he shakes his head and removes his fingers from the edge of the undershorts. You sigh in relief, thankful that he remembered the orders he gave you before, but that sense of ease evaporates when you remove your eyes from his darkened orbs and watch as he touches himself through the wet material. You feel as if your mind is in the middle of a fiery storm, one that you had no means to escape, and the guilt from before rises again as it occurs to you that you may have accidentally forced him into such a state of arousal. You know he craves stimulation more than anything, and as much as you wished to be the one to please him, you didn’t want him to regret you at the end of the night. 

Obi-Wan must sense the turmoil overtaking your body because he stops his movement altogether and leans into your space, until the two of you are breathing the same air. 

“I care not for what I said before.” Gone is the crazed tone ordering you to unclothe him, and you flinch unintentionally when he grasps your cheeks in between his warm palms. He doesn’t move then, afraid that you would fear him, or think him capable of forcing you into an act you did not want to engage in with him. The latter thought is enough to force his heart to stabilize, but when he notices the way you continue to look into his eyes, and the raging tempest begging for every fiber of his being to unfold you, he understands why you shook from his touch. 

It was not out of fear of himself, but fear of what you would do if he didn’t think through this.

You wanted him, to an alarming point, because if he continued to speak of his desires for you, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from giving him whatever he wants. You would ignore the earlier agreement, and lay with him, thus potentially causing him to regret his actions once the two of you passed this lust-filled haze. 

With as much certainty as he can muster up, Obi-Wan speaks the next words against your lips, all the while praying to the maker that you believe the demand filling him completely, one that prayed your name until it became a sweet benediction.

“I yearn for your touch, my lady. Please.” 

The sentiment is laced with an overbearing sense of ache, one you need, more than anything, to itch until it either powers over you or dissipates into a soft, flickering flame. You cease to breathe at the whispered plea, and you discover that no verbal response you can offer will ever properly convey to him the craving hunger you feel for being the one he calls upon to soothe his lust. 

“In- in that case, allow me.” You don’t recognize your own voice, and Obi-Wan releases a sound that can only be described as an anticipated moan in the form of your name. You drift your hands across his thighs, purposely digging your nails into the tight material of his underpants so you can catch another unhinged response from him. He shivers at the stinging sensation, laying back against the sofa if only to keep whatever sliver of control still remained in his body. You bite the inside of your cheeks to feel grounded, and although you know he wants you to drag the article of clothing down his muscular thighs, you don’t do so yet, relishing in the heat radiating off of his form as you played with the elastic around his hips. 

He thrusts into the palms of your hands unintentionally, causing you to stifle a giggle as you slip your fingers beneath the top of fabric and move them back and forth. You don’t bother looking up at him, knowing that the growing fury in his dilated pupils may distract you from the task at hand. Taking in a deep breath, you lean down again and kiss the bit of skin just above his underpants, the dust of hair covering his navel tickling your lips deliciously and making you wish you could see the rest of his body without anything to hide him from you. You know you should stop teasing him, but the part of you that has dreamt of worshiping him forces you to part your mouth and lick across the edge of his underpants. You hear Obi-Wan growl in irritation, but you pay him no mind as you pepper wet kisses everywhere you can reach. 

When you’re satisfied with the state of near delirium you’ve put him under, you pinch the top of his underpants and pull them down slowly, moaning his name obscenely when his cock catches against the tight material and makes you tug on it harder until you can free him. You’ve pictured doing this more times than you can count, and in every single image engraved in your mind, you thought you would be patient and gentle, not wanting him to finish the fun too quickly. But as the thick, hard length of his dick is finally, finally, revealed to your hungry eyes, you can’t help the excitement that fills you, and you yank down his clothes aggressively until both his trousers and underpants are pooled around his ankles. 

It’s everything you have imagined him to be, but not quite. He was thick, and all you can imagine is how perfect he would feel as he stretched you out, mouth or cunt. The tip of his cock is a deeper, angry shade of red and your heart drops when you notice him glistening with pre-cum. And then there was the matter of his length. Maker, he had every right to walk around with such cocksure air around him. But it didn’t seem like it would be as uncomfortable as others you’ve had the misfortune of attending to. Jedi were dangerous with the weapons hanging from their belts, but the one beneath you now was menacing and he didn’t require the lightsaber to prove such a thing. He was, in every sense of the word, the most beautiful creation you’ve ever come across. 

And by the heavens, how you wished you could come across him as well. 

“Oh my stars, you- if I had known your cock would be as beautiful as the rest of you, Master Obi-Wan, I would have fallen to my knees the second I laid my eyes on you.” The remark is accompanied with a spike in your Force signature, one that tested Obi-Wan’s resolve until he snapped and reached for your hair. The only warning you have is the growl reverberating from his chest as he tugs on your hair and grabs his cock with the other hand. You silently plead for him to do something, anything, with you, and the look in your eyes must be all he needs to see because without wasting another second, Obi-Wan spits down on his cock and spreads the wetness across his dick. Your body shakes at the filthiness of his actions, only to have your mind stand with attention as soon as the Jedi Master calls your name. 

“Spit.” The order is music to your ears and you roll your tongue around your mouth quickly to give him what he wants. Looking back into his eyes, you make a show of spitting on the tip of his cock, where his hand continues to rub your mixed spit across the hard length of him. You had thought he would immediately push you down so he could fuck your face, but he does something more bold.

With a widening grin, Obi-Wan parts his thighs wider until you’re a hair-breadth away from his dick, and as soon as you part your lips for him, he takes the base of his cock and slams it three times across your face. He sees the second your lust-filled expression turns into one of shock, and he groans your name once before craning your neck back so he could reach the rest of your features more easily. It’s positively vulgar, the way in which he continues to slap your face with his thick cock, and he finds it rather beautiful that you are enjoying the explicit sounds he is repeatedly creating as the wetness glistening across his skin sticks to your cheeks and creates an almost invisible connection between his length and your lips.

You stick your tongue out to taste your combined spit as it smears across your lips, and Obi-Wan doesn’t waste another precious moment, instantly shoving the tip of his cock past your bruised lips until he feels your mouth engulf him completely. As much as he wants to push you down on his cock, he holds himself back and waits until he’s sure you’re ready for him. You widen your mouth and slide your hands from his thighs to the base of his length, holding him steady as you slowly take his cock down your throat. The Jedi Master must have not been prepared for your immediate response because his breath catches in his throat and he lets go of your hair altogether and fists his hands into the pillows around him. The moans escaping his throat are exceptionally filthy, and you grasp his hard length tightly in hopes of hearing more of his groans. 

“Ahhhh f-fuck, that’s it dear heart. Take my cock, take it in that cockdumb mouth of yours. Let me feel the heat of your throat.” He calls out for you, and you suddenly feel distracted when you shift your attention to his hands and watch as they slowly turn white from how harshly he’s grabbing onto the pillows and the sofa. The moment is gone soon after when you feel constrict your throat around him and he unintentionally bucks his hips into you, sending his dick even deeper into your mouth. The feeling of his velvety skin as it slides across your tongue should be illegal, and you shut your eyes to focus on not gagging around him, only fluttering the open when you hear him moan your name as your drool slides down his length and makes a mess of your hands. You caress him until he twitches in your mouth, once again finding it difficult to breathe when he accidentally pushes his cock down your throat again. 

When you can’t take it anymore, you regrettably remove him from your mouth, taking in a few deep breaths before leaning down and kissing the crown of his dick. You don’t look at him then, knowing you might get distracted if you were to see the look in his eyes as you kissed every inch of him. Only when his body shakes above you do you finally meet his gaze, not stopping once from mapping his length with kisses and licks until he showers you with more praises. 

“Lovely girl, you look so beautiful worshiping me.” Obi-Wan reaches down and touches your cheeks lightly. You stop what your ministrations then, finding the sentiment far sweeter than you think he intends it to be. You rest your cheek across one of his thighs, all the while stroking him until his length is covered in your spit. You bite your lip when he doesn’t remove his hand, winking once at him as you bring his cock to your mouth and kiss the slit smeared with pre-cum. It’s borderline disgusting, the way your mouth shines with evidence of his pleasure and your enthusiasm, but you find the heated look in his eyes worth the humiliation. 

“Want your mouth again, please.” He begs, and if it weren’t for the fact that you were thoroughly enjoying teasing him, you would have obeyed him and told him to fuck your throat. But you don’t, knowing that the pleasure he would feel once he finally takes charge of you again would be indescribable. Batting your eyelashes at him, you don’t pay him any mind and continue with the kitten licks across his cock, occasionally sucking on the protruding veins until he throws his head back and whispers your name.

“Come on, don’t- don’t be a tease.” His voice is nearly broken, driving you absolutely mad with lust. Again, you ignore his pleas, and allow more of your spit to cover his length. He huffs in irritation, and you smile to yourself as you lick along the side of his cock until you reach where your hands are holding him. Without a second thought, you lay the gentlest of kisses across his balls before licking at them harshly. Obi-Wan’s back arches off of the sofa, and he sits up in an instant, unable to look anywhere else but you, with your flushed lips and your wet tongue bringing him unimaginable pleasure. 

“Hmmphh, I- I won’t ask again.” The warning sends a shiver down your spine, yet you almost laugh when he stutters over his words as he attempts to convince you to take his cock into your mouth once more. You know you’re pushing your luck, but you can’t find it in yourself to care because of how absolutely turned on you are by the knowledge of having such an intense effect on him. It must be too much for Obi-Wan, however, because as soon as you rub the head of his cock with both of your thumbs, he growls your name and combs his fingers into your hair. 

“Fuck, that is quite enough.” The composed tone of his voice is terrifying, and you brace yourself in preparation for whatever he has planned for you. Obi-Wan slaps your hands away from him, taking his cock in his own hand instead and pulling you away when you try to take him in your mouth. He traces your lower lip with the tip of his dick, grinning at you when he moves you away as soon as you try to feel him against your tongue. He continues to taunt you with his length, tightening the hold he has on your hair when you try to force yourself on him. You’re not sure how long this goes on for, and you hate yourself for ever thinking it was a good idea to tease him. You pout at him when his smirk widens the longer he blocks your attempts of pleasuring him. Thinking you can tempt him with your hands, you reach out to grab him, only to feel an invisible force on your wrists before they’re slammed down against your thighs. 

“Tell me, tell me what you are and I may reward you with my cock again.” He smiles when he notices the lack of shock on your features, as if you were waiting for him to use the Force on you. He despises your reaction, but chooses to ignore his satisfaction over your expectation of him using his own religion against you, the need to illustrate to you how far gone he is outgrowing any sense of self-preservation. 

“Obi-” You moan his name, only for the man to cut you off with a harsh tug to your hair and another slap of his cock against your parted lips. 

“Fucking tell me,” he orders, one last time, praying to the maker that you put him out of his misery and give him what he wants. 

“I- I’m your filthy whore…I’m just your cockslut and I- I want you to choke me. Choke me with your hand or your cock…please, I want it. It makes me wet just to think of you fucking my face. Please Master, I- omphh.” At the sound of the honorific, Obi-Wan forgets the controlled manner he wished to maintain with you, throwing all caution aside as he tilts your head back and pushes his dick into your mouth until your nose is flush against his skin. He watches as you choke on his length, never once relenting on the pressure he has on your neck until you shut your eyes and moan around him. He pulls you off and releases the hold he has on your wrists, cupping your cheek with one hand while the other plays with your hair as you jerk him off and suck on the crown of his cock. 

“There we go, get me nice and wet for your throat, sweet one.” He breathes down at you, biting his cheek as you switch between sucking on him and taking him so far down your throat until he feels you swallow around him. The pressure of your mouth is a sensation he will likely not forget for a long time, and he dreads the emptiness he will surely experience when he leaves you tonight and returns to the Temple. He’s close to revealing his thoughts to you, but then you shut your eyes, and Obi-Wan suddenly feels a hint of that abyss. He lightly taps against your cheek with the palm of his hand, not hitting you, but just a gentle touch to get your attention.

“No, keep- keep those pretty eyes on me. I want you to look at me as I fuck your face, so you know not to tease me the next time..so you remember to whom you belong.” The words escape his mouth without thought, and he remembers then why he kept himself from such intimacy for most of his life.

“Darling girl, you look breathtaking with your mouth full of my cock.” Your cunt clenches around nothing at the sound of his praises, and you almost reach down to rub your clit, but remind yourself that this was never about your pleasure. So, you focus all of your energy on him, on stroking him firmly and slowly, from where your mouth is wrapped around him down to his balls. As you massage them in the palms of your hands, Obi-Wan can’t help but groan your name over and over again, finding it extremely difficult to maintain his gaze on you as you continue to show him how much you want him. 

“Oh gods, you are such a good girl for me. So perfect, so obedient…so fucking wet.” He pronounces every word with a hard thrust into your mouth, and you don’t dare move away from him then, knowing that he must be close if he was beginning to lose his control and fuck your face with little to no rhythm. 

“Look at you, you’re making such a mess of me. I- I…the sight of you will plague my dreams in the days to come sweetheart, but I- fuck…I do not care.” You maintain contact with his dazed orbs, finding him even more ethereal as he forgot himself in you. You breathe through your nose to the best of your abilities, laying your tongue flat beneath his cock and quickly jerking him off so he can release his seed into your mouth. You want nothing more than to taste him, roll your tongue around his cock as he comes down your throat and fills your mouth with his essence. But as you alternate between sucking him and widening your lips so he can take his pleasure from you, Obi-Wan throws his head back once and moans your name rather loudly before trying to pull you off of him. Thinking that he probably didn’t want to come down your throat, you tease him with your teeth a little and hollow your mouth around the tip of his cock, kneading the rest of him to ensure his satisfaction is not interrupted. 

“Fuck…ahh fucking hells, little one. I- I need you to stop. S-stop, please…now!” The desperation of his voice snaps you out of your haze, and you let go of him instantly, already feeling guilty for whatever you did that pushed him to beg you to stop. You lay your palms over his thighs, lightly caressing his skin to calm him down and show him that you didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable. Obi-Wan stares down at you for a few seconds before resting his head against the back of the sofa, and you watch him closely as he rubs his face with both of his hands and sighs heavily into the damp air of the room. 

“Did…did I do something wrong?” Your voice is barely louder than a whisper, and you’re shocked when Obi-Wan shakes his head almost instantly before looking down at you again.

“Heavens no, you- you are perfect. Absolutely perfect.” His breathing is erratic, and you swallow the lump in your throat when you notice how hard he still is as he twitches lightly in front of your face. 

“Then let me make you feel good, let me pleasure you until you come in my mouth. Please, Master Kenobi, I want to taste your pleasure.” You dare to reach for him again, grasping him in one palm as you massage his navel with the other. Obi-Wan doesn’t let you do much though, reaching for your hand soon after and politely asking you to stop moving. 

“As much as I want to fuck this pretty mouth until you make me come,” he traces your lips with his fingers, pushing two of them past your teeth so he can feel your tongue slide against him once last time, “I will not.” Obi-Wan removes his fingers from your mouth then, and lightly pulls your other hand off of him so he can lean forward and feel the heat of your breath against his cheeks. 

“P-please, I-” You attempt to ask him one last time, but he doesn’t give you a chance to say anything else, slowly reaching for your neck and wrapping his hand around your throat so he can call your attention to what he truly wants. 

“If you want me to come undone at your touch, my sweet, then it will be inside that wet, tight cunt of yours.” Obi-Wan thought you would obey him in the blink of an eye, with how willing you were to do everything he asked of you thus far, but when you lose your smile and your expression turns serious, he lets go of your cheeks and takes your hands into his own instead. Neither of you say anything, and it takes him longer than necessary to realize that you were probably waiting for an explanation from him. 

“Forgive me, I presumed you wanted to-” He starts to say, but you cut him off soon after, shaking your head and intertwining your fingers with his own in an attempt to let him know that you desperately wanted to lay with him. 

“I do, maker knows I do. But-” He lets out a sigh of relief when he hears your affirmation, and although he knows he should let you finish your thought, he can’t help but interrupt you, wanting you to know that you were welcome to deny him this if you wanted. It would break his soul, that he is certain of, but like you, he couldn’t find it in himself to force you to do anything you didn’t truly desire. 

“But what, little one? Speak your mind truthfully, please. You have nothing to fear.” His tone is completely different from a moment ago, and your chest tightens when you realize he probably thought you didn’t want him anymore. Taking in a deep breath, you will yourself to tell him your concerns, one last time, while silently praying that he disregards them again. 

“I don’t want you to think that you have to…this isn’t, I’d never want to force you to do anything.” You stutter through a response, unable to phrase your hopes and desires in a coherent manner for him. You thought he would either thank you for reminding him of those earlier boundaries and get dressed, or tell you that he was definitely sure of his desires to lay with you, but he surprises you, and does neither of those things. His jaws tense at your comment, and he brings you closer to him with newfound lust, making you regret your words.

“You think I am this hard and wanting because you forced me? You think my desperation to feel your cunt clench around me is nothing but a lie?” The questions are laced with lust-filled anger, causing you to flinch when he pulls your hand and forces you to grab his thick, hard cock. He doesn’t let go of your wrist, repeatedly moving it across his length until he can feel the warm palm of your hand rub him furiously. The Jedi doesn’t look elsewhere but your eyes, wanting you to understand that he was desiring the heat of your cunt out of necessity and not because you were forcing him. 

“Obi-Wan,” you lean into his space until your lips mold with his own in a dizzying kiss, all the while not stopping him from continuing to lead your hand across his achingly hard cock. But he breaks the kiss soon after, and you almost complain to him, but then he continues to tell you of his need to feel you engulf him, and you realize that you would much rather listen to his unhinged devotion.

“I have not felt such desire in so long, my lady…the mere sound of my name on your lips has awakened something in me that I daresay I thought would remain dormant for many years to come.” Obi-Wan confesses against your lips, nudging your nose with his own as he breathes the same air leaving your lungs. You shiver at the term of endearment, falling into him as he lays kisses across your cheek while you lazily stroke him.

“And y-you say that my tongue is a dangerous weapon…”

“Will you let me have you, dear heart? Please, let me sink my cock into your pussy. Let me look upon you as you fall apart for me, let me- let me hear my name on your sweet lips as I make you come on my cock, as I fill you with my seed, as you beg me to mark you with my cum.” It’s almost as if those flooding words were waiting for this moment to stream so easily from his lips, and you don’t dare deny him any further, laying one last kiss on his reddened lips before moving to the floor and parting your legs for him. You arch your back as the cold tiles of the ground seeps through your skin, and you do your best to ignore the discomfort of the harsh surface as you bite your lower lip while trailing your fingers down your chest to your clothed slit.  

“Please, Obi…fuck me. Make me come on your thick cock, u-until I mark you as well. I want you to walk out of here with my cum on your robes, so everyone knows who made you feel good. So you- so you can come back to me again and fuck me all night long.” You know better than to ask him for anything beyond this night, and you shamelessly push your panties to the side, spreading the wetness across your slit when you notice Obi-Wan’s unfaltering gaze zeroing in on your core. You sigh heavily as you rub your clit in slow circles before pushing in the tips of your fingers past your folds and into your aching cunt. The Jedi Master isn’t bothered to hide his lust from you, and you smile to yourself when you see him reach for his cock and palm it lazily as he descends onto the floor near you. He doesn’t come closer though, and you push your fingers deeper into your pussy in an attempt to provoke him to do something, anything, besides staring at you as you touch yourself. He’s clearly having a difficult time breathing normally, the rough, shallow breaths filling the otherwise silent air turning you on more than they should. You stop your ministrations and tilt your head to the side, silently asking him what he wants from you. He notices you staring at him and manages to look away from the slick wetting your thighs, narrowing his eyes at you as he moves forward until he’s kneeling in between your thighs.

“Is that what you want, my darling?” It’s almost as if his question is calculated, and you can’t help but notice the hope laced within the question as he reaches down and caresses the length of your leg with two of his fingers. “You want me to return in between your thighs once more, fill you with my cock until your pussy knows my touch?” His voice is captivating, like a rope of fire gently slithering around your frame and forcing you to focus on him, and him only. “Till you memorize the thickness claiming you and refuse to come unless I am fucking you?” You barely manage to nod, eyes moving towards the soft skin gliding along your legs to your knees. His fingers stop there, and you wish he can forgo whatever this teasing foreplay that’s clearly so enjoyable to him. “Tell me, tell me and I promise to make you feel good.” Obi-Wan promises one last time, and you shiver at the sensation of his hands as they massage your outer thighs just as he leans down to your body. Thinking he was going to take you now, you don’t bother responding to him, throwing your head back and blindly reaching for the beige robes still hiding his upper body from your eyes. But a quick slap to your already heated skin snaps you out of your haze, and you look up in time to watch the man descend upon you with a hunger unlike anything you’ve ever seen. He takes both of your wrists in his hands and slams them above your head, bringing his body flush against your own until the only thing you can feel is him. 

“Tell. Me.”

“Yes Master, I want you to take me now…and tomorrow…and the day after.” You blurt out whatever comes to mind, and it must be satisfying for him because the mischievous smile that spreads across his features pulls you deeper into him, making you wish you were the only one worthy of his attention. You reach up and graze his lips with your own, and if Obi-Wan wasn’t hellbent on pushing the two of you past unseen pleasures, he would have quieted you with his tongue and stretched you on his cock in an instant. But he wanted more, and he knew you would appreciate the fulfillment more so if he stretched this out just a little longer. 

“Keep- oh kriff, keep talking.” Obi-Wan breathes against your cheeks as he looks down in between the two of you. Against his will, he shuts his eyes to focus whatever coherent energy left within him on your heated core. His muscles are buzzing with energy, but he pays his own needs no mind as he grips your wrists tightly to prevent you from writhing beneath him. As soon as he moves aside your panties, the words on your lips gush without any coherence, and he huffs out a little chuckle as he begins to pass an invisible sensation against your engorged clit. 

“I want you to- to claim me every night, again and again and again, until I can’t come without your cock. Please, fuck me Obi, make me feel good, make me see the stars in your eyes. I- ahhhhh…”

Obi-Wan knows better than to use the Force for such blasphemous devotions, but it occurs to him, in the midst of this mind-altering interaction, that he would be committing the ultimate sin if he held back from worshiping you with everything that he’s got, everything that he is. Was it not the Force that called for him to become one with all that is around him? Was it not this mystical energy that reached for him so he can experience the most heartfelt moments with an elated, undistracted mind? Was it not this spirit of the universe that guided him every second of his life, so he can feel the intensity of such valuable experiences with an ecstasy unrepressed by the noise around him? He questions himself, and finds the answers rather easily, awfully quicker than many other inquiries he met in the past decades. And with each response ringing across his mind, Obi-Wan imagines the softness of your slit beneath his fingers, as clear as day, alternating between moving the hidden energy across your clit and into your cunt. He nearly overstimulates himself from how focused he becomes into coaxing your essence out to flood his Force signature. The harder he pushes you towards that zenith of bliss, the more his cock twitches against your inner thighs, begging to be engulfed within your walls, or at the very least, for some release from the torment he was bestowing upon the two of you.

Obi-Wan sobs against your neck, the euphoria within his heart threatening to engulf him completely the longer he continues to assault your bundle of nerves. Only when you cry his name repeatedly does he open his eyes and look down to see why you’re suddenly begging him to stop. 

Force help him.

Were it not for the distracting sight of his cock soaked with your cum and perfectly framed by your shaking thighs, Obi-Wan is sure he would have continued to stroke your pussy until you passed out. He loosens the hold he has on your wrists, but doesn’t dare look anywhere else, momentarily forgetting how to breathe when he sees the puddle beneath you. Without thinking much of what he’s doing, he lets go of one of your hands and brings his fingers to your inner thighs, passing over the quivering muscles lightly, only to pull away when he sees you flinch at his touch.

“Obi-Wan,” you sigh his name as you finally catch your breath, the sound of your wrecked voice snapping the Jedi’s attention to your face once more. “I need you.”

Those three words halt whatever apology forming on his lips, and you watch as he swallows thickly before nodding at you. Neither of you address what he’s just done, and even though you want nothing more than to ask him if he meant to use the Force on you in such an intimate manner, you opt to say anything. Obi-Wan moves his hand from your thighs to his cock, and you furrow your eyebrows when you see him stroking himself and spreading your cum across the length of his dick, from his balls to his tip. It’s filthy, the way he rubs himself against your wet folds to coat himself with your essence, but you don’t mind it one bit. Although you want to grab onto him as he finally, finally, slides into your heat, you don’t dare move your hands from where he left them, not wanting to give him a reason to stretch this out any longer. 

You thought he would continue to look down where the two of you would soon join, but Obi-Wan returns his eyes to your features, looking straight into your own dazed pupils as he brings himself closer to you. Pushing your leg with his thigh, he brings his index finger against your slit, rubbing you tenderly until you sigh his name with a whisper. He leans down and kisses the corner of your mouth as he gently moves into you. Your mouth falls open in a silent cry, and you arch your back against him as the head of his cock stretches you out. It’s everything you’ve imagined—the thickness of his length, the pulsating ridges along his cock, the hard and hot feeling of him as he fills you up—but somehow so much better. You lean into his mouth, breathing heavily against his skin the deeper he pushes into your pussy. You can feel him shaking above you, and you’re suddenly filled with an unbearable sense of satisfaction at the prospect of having an effect on him similar to the one he has on you. 

He stops all of a sudden, and you try to wiggle closer to him, force more of his thick cock to fill you sweetly, but his hand shoots to your waist and holds you against the ground, preventing you from moving altogether. 

“Ohhh ff-ffuck, you- you are heavenly, sweet one. And you are so kriffing tight.” Obi-Wan groans against your neck, finding it extremely difficult to not thrust into you harshly now that he finally had you where he wanted. He remembers how sensitive you might be, especially after what he’s pulled moments ago, and he bites your shoulder to feel grounded, the action pulling a lewd moan from your lips that almost makes him break. He licks the reddening flesh to soothe the pain, his mind reeling at the prospect of leaving such a visible mark on you. 

Only when he believes he has a good grip on his urges does he push his cock deeper into your cunt, pulling his head back a little to watch your features as they contort in pleasure. 

“Go on, take me deeper inside your cunt. Take me deeper so I can mark your womb with my seed.” He growls his desires, watching as your chest rises and falls with harsh breaths the more he moves into you. You barely manage to open your eyes and look at him, and were it not for the fact that you were struggling to adjust to his size, you would have told him how beautiful he looked, with his focused eyebrows and his bruised lips and the sweat forming against his forehead that made his hair stick to his skin and fall on his eyes. 

Maker in heaven, he was ecstasy itself. 

“Obi- you…you’re so thick. I- I need to…” Your words make him swear beneath his breath, and whatever coherence left in your mind jots that little detail down for later. It shouldn’t surprise you that he loves being praised, especially when the compliment addressed his impressive size, and you try to relax for him, wanting to show him how good you can be for him in return. 

“Be a good girl and take the rest of me in that pretty little pussy. You have done beautifully for me, my lady…you can take more. I know you can.” He coos against your damp skin, leaving kisses across your forehead and cheeks before he silences your moans with his lips. 

“Obi, oh-” you gasp into the kiss, and Obi-Wan sneaks his tongue into your mouth instantly, the action sending you into a frenzy and making you reach for his hair. He nearly lets go of your hips to force your hand above your head again, but he doesn’t drag your touch away, knowing that it would be better for you to become distracted so you can let loose a bit. Your fingers get lost in his soft locks, and he deepens the kiss when you tug on his hair and scratch the nape of his neck with your nails. The harder you pull on his hair, the louder his moans become, and Obi-Wan finds that he rather enjoys it when you are as rough with him as he is with you. He breaks the kiss for a moment, the need to tell you how exquisite you feel around him outgrowing everything else. 

“I can almost feel the beat of your heart, little angel. Can feel it beating as your cunt clenches around me.” He smirks down at you, finding the lost gaze in your eyes so intimate to the point where he leans down and kisses each of them, if only to try and feel whatever it is your aura was conveying to him. He’s been trying his best to focus on anything but your fluttering walls as they welcome more of him inside you, but the second he takes your lips against his own once more, he can’t help but move all of his attention to your cunt. “Be a good girl and t-take the rest of me. Your pussy is gushing for me sweetheart, it’s recognizing my touch and I am yet to give you all of me.” Under normal circumstances, the Jedi Master would blush at the shameless desires leaving his tongue, but he finds that he doesn’t care at the moment, not when your cunt felt like a tight, wet glove as it pulled more of him inside. He never thought this act could be so mind-bendingly sublime, but as he feels the fluttering corners of your heated core plead for him to deepen the connection, Obi-Wan is sure he will never, ever, get enough of you. He brings himself a little closer to you, until your legs give out and wrap around his hips in an attempt to bring him as flush to you as possible. 

“Please, Obi-Wan…just- do it now. Take me now, and don’t be gentle.” You beg, one last time, your words washing over him like a sweet benediction. It is as if your request goes right through him, clutching his heart tightly until he does nothing except obey you. 

“A-are you sure?” Even though he already knows your answer, he asks again, if only to ensure that you were as undeniably gone in him as he was in you. His voice is shaking, nearly as distracted as his breath, and you reach out to hover your lips over his own, to breathe in his hidden desires until they intermingle with your own. 

“Please…fuck me.” 

The sentiment clouds over the two of you like a lust-filled tempest, one that has been waiting for the right moment to unleash its brazen fires over your coalesced, wanton forms. 

“With pleasure,” Master Kenobi growls in response, no longer caring for making this last as he thrusts his cock into your heat, until he hits a deep corner within your walls that forces stars across your eyesight. 

“Gaahh-” you throw your head back and cry out as soon as you feel his fat, hard dick fill you to the brim. He nuzzles into your cheeks, breathing heavily against your skin until you can only hear the air parting from his mouth. He moves his palm from around your wrist to your hand, intertwining your fingers together and squeezing them tightly as he expertly ground the base of his cock against your core. 

“Ahhhh s-sweet one,” it’s his turn to sob in ecstasy when he feels your pussy tighten around him the harder he pushes into you. Whatever control left in his body evaporates, and he drags his length out of your clenching walls before driving back into you again, sending another scream of pleasure from your mouth against his cheek.

“O-Obi, you feel so good.” You barely manage to say as he sets a rough pace, pushing and pulling his cock deep within your cunt until the only sensation you could focus on was the delicious drag of the protruding veins along his dick against your sensitive cunt.

“As do you, oh fuck…as do you, my darling girl.” Obi-Wan confesses, finally managing to push himself up far enough to look down at you. He finds your eyes instantly, the fire simmering behind them surely mirrored in his own. He can’t help himself, moaning your name like a prayer when you tug on his hair and bring him back to you again. You want to feel as much of his body against you as possible, the sentiment completely understandable to the Jedi Master since his own Force signature screamed to dance and blend with your own. He feels his mind give away to overstimulation again, and he fears that the spirit within him may get too accustomed to having your aura call and lure him in with its passionate and raging arousal. 

His pace falters briefly, and Obi-Wan realizes it is possibly because he’s beginning to give himself completely over to your presence. In an attempt to distract himself, and against his better judgment, he breaks the kiss and pulls back completely, letting go of you and forcing you to remove your fingers from his hair. You try to reach out for him to bring him back to you but Obi-Wan nods at your hands until they are slammed above your head yet again. You gasp at the sudden action, knowing that you will never quite get used to the feeling of having him restrain you with the energy of the universe. Slipping two of his fingers beneath the fabric of your panties, Obi-Wan tugs on it harshly until it rips from your body, the violent behavior sending a fresh wave of arousal across your body and making you clench tightly around him. He sighs and shuts his eyes briefly, wanting to commit this moment to memory. When he thinks he has a grip on himself, he opens his eyes and looks straight into yours as he brings the torn fabric of your panties to his nose, breathing in deeply until your scent fills his senses before shoving it into the pocket of his robes. You move your hips in tandem with his own, biting painfully into your lower lip when you feel his hands grab your hips tightly and pull you back against his cock until you feel bolts of lightning trail up your spine. 

“Look down, look down and see where we are one.” Obi-Wan demands, picking up the pace when you moan his name as you obey him and look down to where you are joined. The sight of his hard cock as it disappears into your cunt almost throws you over the edge, and you don’t dare shift your attention elsewhere, wanting to relish in the feeling of being stretched over his dick over and over again the harder he drives into you. “Oh maker in heavens, you are positively sinful.” You hear him swear as he continues his assault on your core, the sound of his skin slapping against yours suddenly making you shy. While a part of you hopes that the guard waiting outside of your door left, you pray that he was still there, wanting someone to know how good Obi-Wan was fucking you, and how obedient you were for him. 

“Please,” you can’t bring yourself to say anything else, your throat hoarse from overuse and the repeated sobs you let out the more unwavering his brutal thrusts became. 

“Use your words, my sweet. Tell me what you desire.” Unlike you, Obi-Wan can still form proper sentences, something that makes you quite jealous considering the mess he is making of you. You clench and unclench your fists, thankful that the hold he applied on your wrists was giving you all the necessary pressure you needed to bring your body against as he slid his fat cock against the quivering walls of your pussy. 

“Your…hands. I want your hands to- to…” He distracts you with a dangerous grin, settling himself deep inside you without moving a muscle, until you could feel him twitch against that spongy, innermost corner of your cunt. Obi-Wan grinds against you, sending you into a frenzy when you feel your clit throb with need the more he teases you, the coarse hair at the base of his cock making it more difficult to not scream for him to just use you. 

“Tell me.” He warns, lifting you up until your thighs rest on top of his own. Your lower back erupts with goosebumps when he grabs your waist tightly and slowly moves you around in small circles, so his cock marks every inch of you he can touch. 

“Here, please.” You can’t move your hands so you do your best to mime where you need to feel him still, eyes nodding down before you decide to extend your neck as far back as possible until he gets the hint. You think he’ll jump at the chance, but when he halts his movement, you realize the request might be too far for him. He lets go of you then, roaming his hands across the length of your form, not caring for how shameless his touch appears as he cups your breasts and pinches your nipples. They pebble beneath the palm of his hand, and your lungs threaten to erupt when he flicks each peak with his thumb before sliding one hand past your sternum, to the base of your neck. 

“Little angel, I-” he doesn’t move again, and you think your heart might just stop then and there when you notice the tender look in his eyes. Gods, after all of this, he was still being so respectful to you. 

“Oh my maker, I’m already so close Master. I just want you to keep touching me, wrap your hand around me. I want you to, I- I need you to.” You’re not sure of what you’re saying at this point. All you know is you want Obi-Wan to take full control of you, have you submit to him completely until you can no longer recognize where you ended and he began. Thinking he’ll now use this against you, you arch your back and try to move beneath him. But as Master Kenobi proved throughout the night, he was much quicker than you, and without missing a beat, he returns one of his hands to your waist to prevent you from moving without his permission again, the other instantly wrapping around your throat and applying pressure that sends you into the next galaxy.

“Filthy little whore, craving such violent needs.”

He groans as he clenches his jaw tightly and snaps his hips against you, sending your body off of the ground before it falls back against him. The force of his thrusts, combined with the tightening hold he has on your jugular and the filthy words leaving his lips, coaxes pleasure out of you that you have not experienced in decades. 

“Master, I- I can feel you so deep inside me.” You tell him as you look into his eyes, needing him to feel a sliver of the pleasure he was bringing onto your body. Obi-Wan stutters for a moment, the praising comment wrapping around him like a warm coat, threatening to send him into another dangerous frenzy. 

“Feel me, darling. Feel me as I mark you with my cock. Here,” before you can ask him to release you, Obi-Wan moves one of your hands to your lower stomach, pushing your palm down on your navel with the Force while he continues to drag his achingly hard cock in and out of you. 

“Oh gods,” you scream as you vaguely feel his length slide against your tight walls, a sudden spike in your ecstasy letting you know that Obi-Wan was responsible for the flood of sensations now coursing through your veins. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he remove the invisible hold he has on your hand, waiting until you were only experiencing him before dragging your attention back to his eyes again. 

“There we go, that’s it love. You feel that?” 

“I- I’m…” You meet his eyes and feel your soul fall into the ocean of blues now vibrant and visible around his pupils. The rest of the sentence falls away, and you barely manage to breathe as Master Kenobi fills you repeatedly, ensuring that your cunt now recognizes the stretch of his hard, thick dick. You’re on the verge of coming, and you get the sense that Obi-Wan was near ecstasy as well. For a moment though, you notice that Obi-Wan isn’t quite looking into your eyes, but through you. 

You want to ask him what he can see, but you choose to prioritize your rapture, chasing it with need in hopes of granting him his own as soon as he feels you come on his cock. You don’t look anywhere else though, the sight of his hair sticking to his face and nearly hiding his eyes from your gaze forcing a string of expletives to leave your tongue. The man somehow managed to look gorgeous in the throws of passion, and you make sure to remember to tell him later that you never thought you would ever see someone look so alluring and provocative yet handsome and graceful as they fucked you within an inch of your life.

Like you, Obi-Wan can almost taste the rhapsody of his body, and he yearns to fall over the edge along with you. But as he takes in your form, so beautiful and wrecked, he can’t help but reach out to your Force signature one last time, wanting to memorize its fiery nature one last time before he completely loses himself to the heat of your cunt as it flutters around him. He inhales deeply, focusing as much of his energy on you as possible, and as he allows his eyes to roam over your shaking body, he finally tunes into the bright, red aura branching away from your entwined bodies and across the dimly-lit room. 

Never has Obi-Wan seen such beauty before, the dancing rays of intense red beams filling his mind’s eye with such elation that he can’t bring himself to think of anything else but how incomparable you are to everything that exists in this galaxy, almost as exceptional as the Force itself.

The last thought should scare him, but as he lets go and allows your Force signature to take over his, Obi-Wan comes to one conclusion, the idea of which makes him smile down at you as he presses impossibly deeper into your pussy. 

Perhaps red is all I ever needed to touch after all. 

As he accepts the reality of this silent revelation, he can no longer hold back from telling you how beautiful you are. 

“Feel me, little one. Feel me as I fuck your tight cunt…feel me as I brand your body. Stars, I- I wish you could see yourself the way I do, dear heart. You are radiant…your Force signature is- never have I seen such a bright and pure energy. Oh fuck, I must have you again, I must.” It is unlike him to whisper such vulgar words out loud, but Obi-Wan wants you to know that having you once will not suffice. He hopes you understand that he may be referring to an intimacy beyond this act, but he files that need for later, when he is less terrified of the effect you have on him. He fucks you without abandon, the hold he has on your neck tightening even further when he looks down and watches as you slide your hand up his chest to his neck. You cup his cheek in your palm, willing him to look into your eyes as you give yourself to the pleasure. 

“Obi-Wan, don’t stop. I- I want to come on your cock, I want to feel you come inside me…come with me. Fill me with your seed, Master.” You throw your needs into his hand, knowing that the two of you only need the other to reach pleasure so you can fall into your own. When his chest rises and falls erratically, you dig your heels into the back of his thighs as hard as your muscles will allow, wanting him to fill you with his cock until you can feel nothing but him.

“S-sweetheart, I- I can’t last much longer.” Obi-Wan’s voice breaks, and he falls over you when he feels your thumb trace his lower lip lovingly. He rests his forehead against your own as his rhythm falters, but he ensures to not loosen the grip he has on your neck, not wanting to take away any touch that aids in bringing you pleasure. 

“Then come with me Obi, come for me.”

“I’m- stars…I- please, my lady, fall apart with me. Come undone on my cock, I’m right there…r-right- ahhhh,” the words die in his throat as he feels the blazing fire of your Force signature strike through him, sending him over the edge along with you so instantly that he forgets how to breathe for a moment. He grinds into you, his cock pulsating harshly against your own fluttering walls as long, hot spurts of his seed shoot deep into your womb. Obi-Wan shuts his eyes as he hovers his lips over your own, breathing in the air leaving your mouth as your body shakes violently beneath him. He can’t feel anything else except the heat of your pussy as you clenched tightly around him and milked every last drop of his cum deep into your cunt. 

As his hips stutter, you reach up and mold your lips with his own in a chaste kiss, moaning against him when he unintentionally bucks a little too harshly into you and forces you to squeeze around him in your post-orgasmic haze. Obi-Wan groans in return, loosening the grip he has on your neck and moving his hand to the ground so he doesn’t crush you with the weight of his body. He explores your mouth with his tongue, wanting to make this moment last as long as possible before he pulls out of you. As you move your arms around his neck, Obi-Wan can’t help but smile against the touch of your lips, finding your need to feel as much of him as possible heartwarming. He leans into you a little but makes sure to keep his weight off of you, only wincing lightly when the gentle movement makes him grind against your mound and forces you to break the kiss. 

“Little one, are you alright? Have I hurt you in any way?” His voice hovers over the skin of your forehead, smoothing away any doubts beginning to form in your mind now that the two of you were not completely distracted by the touch of the other. You hum contently, nuzzling deeper into his neck as you throw your leg over him and shift closer to his body. A shiver courses across your skin, and you fist your hands into the robes still shielding him from your eyes as soon as you feel your combined juices trickling down your thighs. You flush with heat at the prospect of going back to your home with evidence of this man’s pleasure deep inside your pussy. It’s only when he lays a kiss on your temple repeatedly that you remember the question he asked you not a moment ago.  

“Only in a good way, Master Jedi.” You move your hand up his chest until you feel the skin of his neck beneath your palm, and before you can bring it elsewhere, Obi-Wan clasps your hand in his own and pulls it to his mouth. Your eyes flutter open just in time to watch him as he rests his lips right above your wrist and kisses it, gently placing the palm of your hand on his cheek before looking down to meet your eyes. There’s something rather intimate about the Master Jedi allowing you to touch his beard, the gesture oddly more personal than anything else you’ve done thus far. 

“No, don’t…please, call me Obi-Wan.” He furrows his eyebrows, the pout forming on his bruised lips distracting you briefly before your mind catches up with what he just said. You blink at him as the teasing grin growing on your expression sends a blush across his face. He swallows the knot in his throat, avoiding your gaze for a few seconds before returning to meet your eyes again. You think he’ll return the smile but when he stares at you with that same, slightly concerned look, you decide it best not to tease him any further. The man has done more with you than he initially wanted so he must have been reconsidering much while he remained in your arms. The least you could do was ease away whatever thoughts were beginning to storm his mind regarding you, and the compromising interaction he’s carried on with you throughout the night. 

“Okay…have I hurt you anywhere Obi-Wan?” You trace invisible circles across his beard, wishing the two of you were anywhere else but here. Even though you know he didn’t spend time with you in return for the information you offered him, you still can’t help but feel that this space was overbearing, or at least, subconsciously making you think of your line of work and his ‘beliefs.’

“Yes.”

The second you hear his response, you sit up and begin to study his body, your hands going from his neck to his arms, down to his stomach and lower where you think you may have somehow left a mark.

“Maker, where have I- oh gods, I didn’t think that-” Your mind is racing with ways you could have made tonight less hurtful to him, but before the waves of anxiety overtake you completely, Obi-wan is sitting up and cupping both of your cheeks in his hands. He rests his back against the edge of the couch, not bothering to ask if it’s alright with you as he pulls you into his arms and brings you across his lap. 

“Breathe, dearest. Breathe.” He sighs sweetly, resting his forehead against your own and increasing the volume of his breathing so you can mirror his actions and calm your elevated heart rate. As you inhale and exhale along with him, Obi-Wan lowers one of his hands to your chest, urging you to do the same thing so you can feel his heart through his clothes. Only then does he notice your breathing stabilize, and he dares to open his eyes and look upon you, hoping that his answer is enough to set your mind completely at ease. 

“You have hurt me by giving me that which, I now know, I cannot part from.”

The words fall from his lips like the sweetest wine, one that washes over you with an ease you’ve never felt before. The desirable effect slowly flows through your mind, and Obi-Wan pulls back further to meet your gaze so you can see for yourself that he was not lying to calm you, but whispering a confession he was afraid would make this complicated. 

“Obi…” You whine his name as you lean into him and mold your lips with his own. It’s a chaste kiss, one that neither of you have experienced in a long time, and the Jedi beneath you sighs deeply into the faint touch as he brings his arms around you to bring you as close to him as possible. When you break apart, you leave a trail of kisses across his face, praying to the maker that the man beneath you understands what it was you were trying to convey to him now. 

“You have ruined me, love. In the best way possible.” He says as he drags his hands across your neck and tugs you into his chest, until the only thing filling his senses is your Force signature singing to him, for him. It has been past the hour he’s originally offered when the two of you agreed to whatever this is, but neither of you dare to move or break the moment, afraid the other suddenly remembers propriety and ends this. 

Obi-Wan takes advantage of having you in his arms without anything to distract him, rubbing his hands up and down your back until your body sags against him. He dares to rest his cheek against the top of your head, the action making you fist your hands into his robes even tighter, as if you were afraid he was going to leave you now. He has to report back to the Council, perhaps even run over some plans with Anakin, but he can’t find it in himself to move just yet, wanting to relish every moment he gets to be in your presence. When he shifts to accommodate you better, you wince and push off of him, eyes attending to the wet fabric of his pants and shirt.

“Your clothes-” you frown when you realize you made a much bigger mess of him than you initially thought, but Obi-Wan shakes his head and takes hold of your chin, bringing your attention back on him as he smiles at you. 

“Should not be a concern to you,” he finishes your thought, his fingers combing your hair away from your face so he can take a better look at you. Under normal circumstances, you’d laugh at the change in sentiment or perhaps joke about his lack of concern for his attire when he made a great deal of it a while ago. But you got the feeling that it wouldn’t be right if you were to treat him like any other customer. As far as you were concerned, he stopped being one a little over an hour ago. 

“I have never met another like you.” Obi-Wan says as he trails his fingers down your arms and brings both of your hands to his lips, kissing each palm as gently as possible before placing your hands on his chest again. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he enjoyed it when you rested your hands on chest, and the thought of knowing that he didn’t mind you feeling his heart as he remained in your presence sends a new shiver down your spine. 

Maker, you hoped you weren’t reading into this. 

The prospect of feeling more for him than he was for you halts whatever train of thoughts swirling in your mind, and you decide to derail whatever conversation he’s trying to start instead of building on the intimacy of the space. 

“Flattery will not gain you another hour, dear heart.” You throw his words back at him, hoping that he understands why you are so reluctant to reveal your heart’s desires to him the way he was so easily confessing his own to you. 

“I need only look at your beautiful eyes to feel satisfied for the rest of my days.” He pushes yet again, and your heart skips a beat when you feel his thumb slowly trace the top of your lips before cupping your neck and forcing your eyes to stare into his own. Gone is the cocksure smile he was gracing you with a while ago, replaced with stern yet gentle furrowed eyebrows as he continued to memorize every inch of you. 

“You- you really do have a way with words.” You chuckle nervously when you notice the needy expression remain on his handsome features, and before either of you know what you’re doing, you’re closing the gap in between the two of you once more. Obi-Wan wants to taste your lips again, but he knows that should he go down that path now, neither of you will be leaving this room any time soon. Instead, he lays the most gentle of touches atop each of your eyes, until your Force signature becomes nothing more than a dancing flame around his own, subdued aura. 

Whatever exploration both of you wished to carry out before things escalated suddenly unfolds now, with Obi-Wan tracing faded scars and tattoos littered across your body while you caressed any bit of skin visible to your eyes. He leaned away from you when you got to certain parts of his neck and you almost lost it at the fact that the Jedi Master beneath you was ticklish. It’s only when you meet his cerulean orbs again that you remember something you should have told him before you grew heated and out-of-control. 

“I know this isn’t exactly romantic but…well, I just wanted you to know that I am clean, and I haven’t, you know…I never sleep with anyone without precautions.” Had you not been of sound-mind, you could have sworn you said something offensive or inappropriate because the look he returns is one of anger and guilt, and you retract your hands from him instantly, not wanting to worsen whatever feelings currently brewing inside him. But Obi-Wan doesn’t let you back away from him completely, reaching out for both of your wrists and bringing you back against his chest rougher than you anticipated. You fall against him but never break your gaze, afraid that you might miss anything if you were to look away from him. 

“My lady, I- forgive me. Please, forgive me. I was so lost in you I never-” It’s Obi-Wan’s turn to frantically part with apologetic words, and you feel guilt eat away at your heart when you see the anxiety welling up in his own threaten to send him into unnecessary panic. He’s tripping over his words, his hands clasping your own tightly, as if he was afraid you’d run away from him. You shake your head at him, but the Jedi throws his head down and whispers harsh words to himself. You can’t help but feel for him, and you mentally slap yourself for not wording the comment better so he doesn’t misunderstand you. When he continues to berate himself, you shake his hands away from you and frame his bearded jaws beneath your fingers, forcing him to look at you once more so he can see that you weren’t lying when you told him everything was alright. His face is flushed, and you hate that it’s not because of your compromising position but due his overthinking mind.  

“Relax Obi, I wasn’t saying that to make you feel bad. I just wanted to tell you because I- I wouldn’t have slept with you if I wasn’t sure I am clean. I would never do that to anyone, but you…you’re special, and I wouldn’t dream of taking such a chance. That’s all I wanted to tell you, that I’m clean I mean. Nothing more, I promise.” You look into each eye back and forth, needing to be certain that he fully understood there were no implications behind your comment. But more so, you wanted him to know that he was not like the others, but something more. At least you hoped he could become something more. 

Silence follows your calming assurances, and you find yourself able to melt into him again when his shoulders visibly relax and you feel his features contort into a less anxious expression. He nods twice at you before slowly bringing his hands back around your waist again. He squeezes you, silently urging you to wrap your arms around him so he doesn’t think he’s forcing you to be near him. You shut your eyes as you rest your entire body against his chest, the soft material of his Jedi robes a soothing presence against your heated skin. 

“So am I, but you probably know that already.” He breathes into the silent air a while later, making you smile against him before continuing to tug and scratch the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I am no Jedi…How would I know that?” You hope the joke makes him less likely to tense beneath you throughout the rest of the night but it holds the opposite effect on him. His hands stop moving again and you pull away far enough to take a good look at his face. You find him blushing a deep shade of red like before, except this time, there is a shadow of a less-than-sure smile threatening to break across his otherwise serene expression. 

“Well, as you now understand, it- it does not come easily to me to share this part of myself with anyone.” Obi-Wan parts with the revelation as if it isn’t the most personal truth he will ever confess about himself. You know it shouldn’t be shocking that the man in front of you now doesn’t sleep with just about anyone, but it’s still a surprise, especially since he looked the way he did. 

“You- you mean you…”

“It has been long since I have lain with another.” Obi-Wan admits rather proudly, and you bite into your lower lip when you feel his fingers caress the side of your jaw. Unlike the beginning of the night, when you were quite uncomfortable with the exceptionally profound effect the man had on you, you lean into that restless feeling now, knowing that you can trust him with more than your body.

“Oh Obi-Wan,” you lean into the touch, tilting your head to the side to kiss his thumb as it passes over your lower lip. 

“It seems you and I parted with important parts of ourselves tonight.” The sincerity behind your words touches Obi-Wan’s heart more intimately than he wants to admit, and he brings you closer into him, if only to try and touch the heated fire threatening to overtake his Force signature. 

“Indeed we have.” He accepts the statement with more ease than he thought possible for someone such as himself, the idea of sharing similar moments with you in the future not making him apprehensive. 

“And do you…regret any of it?” You inquire, no longer afraid of whether he’ll think you’re mad for holding such affections towards him. 

“Not one moment. Do you?” 

“Yes,” you respond sternly, barely managing to hold back your laughter when you notice the adorable pout suddenly aimed at you. 

“I regret not taking you to one of our better rooms. You would have felt much more comfortable there.” You nod at your surroundings, giggling like a little girl when Obi-Wan pinches you playfully and laughs at your mischievousness. 

“If you must know, I do not care for such things, sweet one.” He narrows his eyes at you, but chuckles along as your spiritedness flickers joy deep within his soul. 

“Oh yeah, and what do you care about Master Jedi?” You smirk at him, leaning down and mapping his neck with as many kisses as he will allow you before he pushes you away from him. 

“Your comfort,” Obi-wan moans, throwing his head back in pleasure when you nip and tug at the skin of his jugular, “…and p-pleasure of course.” He barely manages to finish, already feeling the sweet sensation of your lips shooting southward. Obi-Wan knows he shouldn’t allow you to leave such visible markings across his skin but he finds that he doesn’t care much about anyone seeing evidence of your approval of him, especially when it would only remind him of the time he spent with you tonight. 

“Consider the job done.” You hum in approval, licking the bruising marks slowly beginning to show across his beautiful, taut skin. 

“Any requests for the next time? A blue room, nicer surfaces, heavier drinks?” The suggestions are meant to be humorous, but as everything else, Obi-Wan takes them rather seriously and he slithers his hands up your arms to grasp your shoulders. He ends up pushing you away after all, but when you do finally meet his eyes, they’re more serious than an hour ago when he was inquiring after your customer. 

“If you are not otherwise engaged, I would much rather accompany you to your home than remain here.” Obi-Wan means to ask if it’s possible that he leave with you rather than invite himself over to your place, and he prays to the maker that you find it in your heart to allow him to get to know you better outside of this space. He wants to ensure that whatever passes between the two of you is of your own volition and interest rather than a continuation of what is required of you when you’re in the confines of this establishment. 

“And what makes you think I’ll invite you over?” You have already decided you want him to leave with you right this moment, and from the slowly widening smirk the gentleman beneath you was offering you, it seemed that he knew your answer as well. 

“Well, I do believe I am yet to taste you properly, and I am sure you would prefer it if I were to part with my so-called offensive robes…both actions for your pleasure of course.” Obi-Wan is finding it extremely difficult to keep his hands from wandering across your exhilarating form, his self-control hanging by the thinnest of threads when he recognizes the buzzing energy coursing through your veins with each desire he unfolds to you. 

“My pleasure, hmm?” Your voice is shaking, but you don’t break his gaze for a single moment, wanting to ensure that he truly, and desperately, wants this as much as you.

“Yes, little one, your pleasure. Whether or not the taste of you may bring me to my knees in ecstasy is entirely my business and not your own.” There is a dangerous hint to his tone, and you swallow the knot forming in your throat as his hand slowly reaches to grasp the base of your neck. He taps gently against your skin, making you wish you were already in the comfort of your bed, on your hands and knees, begging him to mark you with his breath.  

“Stars above, y-you can bend me to your will just by talking to me.” You shut your eyes and surrender to the peaceful storm gradually overtaking your body and soul. 

“They do not call me ‘The Negotiator’ for little, sweetheart. Now, lead the way, and I promise to fulfill all your wishes…including the ones your filthy little mind is too embarrassed to confess to me.”

Tagging people who showed interest in my other Obi-Wan fic/may be interested in this one (some aren’t working): @peachoginuk @purple-mango @zombiesnips-blog @starfirette @marierg @londonian7 @fluffyhales @witch-of-forest @namethathasnotbeentaken @heyhawtdawgs @bluboop @stevenslove @captaincarmel416 @minstens @siidereeus @melifair @midgardianslut @cassrage @tairbutstronger @madnessinwrighting @nicole-lightfoot @storm-breaker7 @pianomad @burningcoffeetimetravel @projectdaydreamer @tropodyn @kenobiquinzel @whydoyouwanna-know @rebloggingfanfictioninthechaos @hellmouthrecs @khapikat222 @pan-dulce135 @black-noir-ink @amunet-06 @hypothetical-strumpet @bigtiddywench @writers-haven-after-dark @galacticspankbank @kagvne @septimaseverinafavfanfic @not1isa @bucket-of-fanfiction @buckmepapi @lights-on-the-ridge @starlady66 @dear-ickis @clonesmybeloved @sinisrebloggin @justmevoldemort @cassrage @icefanfic @uyuartik @feelmyroarrrr @millennial-falcon @littlelioncub43 @astrangegirlsmind @darthjupiter @im-not-great-at-making-up-names @mrsparknuts @cltex84 @fanficsilike-okaylove @poisonous-clouds @mo-i-ra @elledjarin @star-whores-a-new-hoe @justreadingthings @hansonveggieclub @lehns-herr @fnckit-fiction @wheres-the-effing-pie @skvatnavle @stupendouscowboyhairdolover @ilovehimyourhonor @accuningstargazer @metalarmsandmanbuns @buckywhorebarnes @thedaisycrownwitch @artemis-rex @crumbssss @thetimidsarcasticcat @jadesabre83 @teeth-ing @dirty-holy-things

[dameronology]

how about what would happen if the star wars boys made you cry 👀

ok i kinda did this in the scenario that you're arguing and they make you cry

characters: din, poe, finn, han, luke & obi-wan

din djarin

he is HORRIFIED the minute tears spring from your eyes

maybe you're fighting, maybe he got stressed and said something in the heat of moment, whatever it is, he's immediately forgotten about what he was mad about and he's by your side, floods of apologies coming from his mouth and gloved hands taking yours

he just kinda pulls you into his chest and holds you for a moment and my GOD he wants the world to swallow him up because he loves you more than anything in the world and he normally hates whoever makes you cry but right now it's him

truth is, you know din and you know that he would never do anything to intentionally hurt you so as far as apologies go, it's one you accept pretty quickly

he's gonna apologise for like a week after that

even if it becomes annoying

poe dameron

poe just sort of freezes and has this "oh fuck" look on his face

"oh god, don't cry. please don't cry. did i make you cry? oh my god. i made you cry."

and then he probably starts crying too

because he always wants to cry when you cry but the fact that he's the one responsible for it? woo boy

he swallows it down though and doesn't let you see because he doesn't want to seem like he's taking away from what he's done

his immediate reaction is to want to hug you, but he waits for a moment to see if you'll let him because he doesn't know if you're gonna swing at him tbh

if you let him, he holds you fucking tight. he doesn't apologise then and there, though, not until things have calmed down - normally a few moments later - that he says sorry and you know it's from the bottom of his heart

he goes out his way over the next few days to make it up to you; flowers, dinner, a romantic trip to a distant planet, but above all, he makes an active effort to never let it happen again

and that's what matters most

finn

honestly finn looks like a kicked puppy

because he tries so hard to never argue with you or get mad EXACTLY FOR THIS REASON and he has failed in his attempts and oh lord he wants to die

he doesn't jump immediately to apologising, mostly because he wants you to say what you need to say and he doesn't want to talk over you

and he listens!! he wants to know what he did and what he said so that it never happens again

then he apologises, and it's always straight to the point but still eloquent and meaningful

finn isn't gonna be the kinda guy who apologises for days (oh, din) or goes out his way to shower you in sorry gifts (ah, poe) because mostly he just wants to move on from it and get back to a good place with you but it's like...not in a way that he forgets about it??

it's more of a thing that he hates things being off with you. like it literally kills him inside. so he encourages you to both move forward and get back to the good stuff.

but he also makes it clear that he has learnt from it

han solo

han literally doesn't know what to do. he can barely handle people crying at the best of times but when a) it's you and b) you're crying because of him?

his immediate reaction is to run, because it's han and he always wants to peg it away from every single issue but his chest hurts at the idea and it hurts even more when he knows he's the bastard that made you cry

he just goes silent and is kinda 🧍‍♂️for a second because his brain is computing but then he realises that he does know what to do when you cry and that's attack the thing that upset you

then he realises that he can't do that and goes "well i can't fucking blast myself, so i don't really know what to do right now" and it's stupid and dumb and oh my god han read the fucking room but at least it breaks the ice a little bit and you smile

because, despite everything and despite han being...well, han, you know he's trying his best and the fact he's even still in front of you is actually something of a miracle

that's your cue to rip into him, by the way, because even if you're crying it is canon that the only way to get han solo to listen to you is to tear him a new one (or three) so he will stand there and take the bollocking

after that, he apologises. han isn't good with words so it's a little bit spacey and awkward but the intent is there

but he also makes it abundantly clear that he never means to hurt you and you know, from the bottom of his heart, that he means it

luke skywalker

luke literally stops in his tracks and he's holding you immediately and going "i didn't mean that, i really didn't mean that, please don't hate me"

literally his entire facade his gone - the stubbornness, whatever he's arguing about - just disappears and he realises immediately that none of it is worth making you cry

so the man is literally holding you before your tears even start and he's already apologising over and over

he does want to listen to you though and hear what you have to say, so he's all ears

tbh, it's hard to stay angry at luke for long because you know he's completely pure intentioned and good hearted but you can absolutely opt to give him the silent treatment or take space for as long as you need and he will let you do it

after that, he buys you flowers and will make it up to you in every way he knows how

obi-wan kenobi

out of everyone on the list, obi-wan is the one who is the most shooketh to his core when he realises that he's made you cry

because he's so chivalrous and loving and might as well live to serve you so the idea that he's hurt you is quite possibly his greatest fear come true

his immediate reaction is to give you space. he'll apologise first and let you know that he's ready to talk whenever you are, simply because he doesn't want to overstep or push you to make up until you're ready

but as soon as you are, he's all ears and listening to everything you have to say

again - and i feel like i'm saying this for every character here lol - you know that he'd never hurt you intentionally and although that's the main, the proof is in the pudding when he actively listens to you and makes an effort to avoid it happening again

[uyuartik]

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

tags: slightly sith coded obi wan, no use of y/n, my unhinged take on regency era, (blaming bridgerton and pride and prejudice), probably historical inaccuracies, SMUT, mentions of oral sex (fem and male receiving), mentions of fingering, piv sex, dom!obi?, i really don't know what to write here it is just filth and it is gonna get filthier

a/n: HII! so i became haunted by historical!obi au's and spent six months writing a short series... this is the first chapter out of three, so i hope you stay tuned for the upcoming one (it is FILTHIER than this and about 19k words)

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

enjoy!!!

word count: 5.4K

chapter one: see you tonight?

“…Fuck, just like that-“

That voice. Yes, that’s how you ended up here, you think, as you roll your hips, feeling the exquisite contours of Obi Wan’s cock stretching your walls and pulling pleasure out of every cell in your body, and possibly from your soul too.

Ehem. Lord Kenobi.

And truth be told, that’s not exactly how things led here. Of course, his rich voice and the manner in which he used it were notable factors. The way he camouflaged his remarks under sweet quips never failed to make you giggle into the next day, and regardless of the topic (ashamedly, it was mostly about the other people in the room, and their rather obscene behaviors), the comments he made always reflected the intelligence behind it. He played the serious bit perfectly too, even though his reverent sentences carried some poetry, never pompous, yet deep enough to convey its origin and the realness of his sincerity… That’s why you started spending hours with him at balls in the first place. Ten minutes alone with him, undoing all the prejudice you had against the man. All the rumors about him were proven wrong, or at least, half true. And you liked that remaining part of the truth.

Only after that, came the subject of his charms. Not quite surprising, considering that there was no lack of handsome faces around, but a lack of brains in them. Or a true heart. You hated the hypocrisy of it all, and it was a blessing to find someone who shared that sentiment. Not to mention the benefit of him deflecting any unwanted company.

Likewise, he must've thought the same about you, thus your current position. It was obvious that both of you two had similar standards, even in these lewd matters. People didn’t call him a heartbreaker because he pursued a lot of women, but when he did and it came to an inevitable end, they were the shell of whom they used to be, like a person could be mummified by the absence of the joy he charmed people with it. And you, you weren’t the type to have somebody just because you could. No, you looked for a special connection, a click, and when you got lucky and found one among the countless candidates, you treasured it. Now, even the word click sounded wanting, there were sparks present between the two of you, a considerable, good dynamic you two had built, and that made everything just better.

You were almost sad thinking this was a one-time event, already knowing this is a moment you'll remember your entire life. (You weren't gonna push your luck on getting caught.) If there were such deals, two of you keeping it to each other forever in this aspect of life, you’d have signed that contract in a blink.

“Thought you said you were tired.” He breathes out, clearly an effort, yet the smug grin on his face leaves no room for doubt or pity.

“I’ve been sitting all day.” That’s how travel works in carriages, after all. “I think stretching my legs, is what I need.” You emphasize by raising yourself higher and slowly sink back down a few times, a motion that pulls moans from both of your mouths.

Travel. It took you half a day to reach your aunt’s estate, and you were fairly certain you wouldn’t attend the ball that is currently taking place. Then, you realized there was no way your gracious hostesses would see you tonight, you were forced to enter the saloon. It would be a quick in and out, maybe greeting a few more people, no dance, with the very valid excuse of I’ve been on the road all day and I am quite exhausted ready on your lips at any interaction. This was why you didn’t even bother to put much effort into your looks, opting for a change of dress, and nothing more. No jewelry, no retouches to your hair. After all, it would just add to your part if you seemed slightly off.

Somehow, it turned out to be a regrettable decision, when numerous eyes turned to you as you took a step into the room, and even longer after that. Maybe not every head turned or the music came to an abrupt stop, the sprouting silence broken by collective whispers, but it happened, subtle yet enough to make itself known. You were given the same treatment for years at this point, but there was no getting used to it. Color that had been settling in your cheeks seemed to be permanent, at least for the night, not leaving your side as you took your place among your relatives. The expensive fan you were gifted by- God knows who, you were in no mood to remember it now, did nothing to relieve your suffering. 

And, countless other greetings don't help either. You fastened the movement of your hand, curling your lips into a forced smile. You could truly get tired from all these repeated words and gestures.

"I'm afraid I forgot to bring my dance card." You said again, to the third man who came with the same offer, Duke Caldo, all true except the part "forgot". You left it, willingly, just in front of your vanity mirror. The mirror which you desperately wanted to see yourself in right now, away from the ball. 

"A great pity." The exclamation didn't come from him, though. 

Your fan dropped from your hand and closed itself when it hit your wrist, dangling from the loop around your forearm as you heard that voice, no introduction ever needed. Perhaps, not even his voice was required, for there was always that unexplainable change in the quality of air in the rooms he occupied, like he was casting a spell on those around him, trickling magic dust with every step, a rare perfume. You wouldn’t use such metaphors if it wasn’t for the simple fact that your body always figured out his presence before your mind, catching a sense of that hypnotic essence. You often realized all the hairs on your arm standing up, or a tingling sensation in the back of your neck, breathing getting a bit harder, only to quickly locate him in your eyesight. 

"Lord Kenobi." It is said in a contemptful respect, a greeting and a goodbye. “Goodnight, my Lady.”

You didn’t even bother to mutter a proper response, and frankly, the Duke didn’t wait for one either. So, all your focus can be reserved on the man in front of you. 

You raised your arm as if intending to extend it so he could complete his small tradition of placing a kiss on the back of your hand, like he has done every time your paths crossed, even multiple times a day (that’s exactly how you noticed it was more than a simple salutation), (honestly, you liked it, his daring movement revealing a lot about his nature), only to flick it to reopen your fan. The gentlest gust of it licking your skin was more than enough now, making it all too pleasing to watch him save himself with a deep bow of his head, the annoyance quickly turning into a satisfied grin, like he didn’t expect anything less from you. 

“That looks even more beautiful in your hand.” He pointed at it, but his eyes wandered all over your body. You did the same, though there was little notice, his usual beige suit far too familiar. Your focus was always on the fact that he looked so good in it, taking in the broadness of his shoulders, or his defined arms exquisitely pronounced over the fabric.

Right. So it was his gift. Why did you ever entertain other possibilities?

You weren’t going to disappoint him by mentioning it is only here because your panicked maid accidentally packed the first item she saw, for you never took anonymous gifts. You didn’t need the attention they brought.

"And I couldn't thank you enough for it. I can practically name it my savior tonight." You answered, making a show of lavishing yourself in the stream it creates.

"My only source of pride is the fact that it perfectly blends with the rest of your attire. Now, I can proudly say I know your taste."

Classic Obi Wan. Even his compliments, far from usual, borderline scandalous. He's been peppering you with them ever since the start of your friendship and you were never immune to them. You outright enjoyed them. Especially now, they didn’t help the simmering tingles forming at the depths of your belly, amplified by weeks of solitude. “Only a part of it I’m afraid, but you’ll learn the rest in no time, don’t worry.”

“Can’t wait.” He grinned and scanned the room for prying eyes. Finding none, he made himself more comfortable by your side, hoping to spend the rest of his night with you. 

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” You admitted, somehow managing not to sound like you’re overly joyous of that not happening.

“I could say the same about you.” Was that excitement, or disappointment in his voice? Was he planning of politely ravishing other women, when you were not present to entertain him? Something told you those were not among his intentions, the smile on his face too honest, his twinkling gaze focused solely on you. 

You tilted your head and curled your lips. Touché. “It is nice to attend the ball your acquaintances are throwing, even if you arrive late. But for you, sir, I'm afraid people will actually think you're looking for a wife."

He rolled his eyes. There was a hint of offense in them just at the mentioning of the subject, but the playful type, not the exasperated type he uses for others. 

"Curious. The diamond of the season is also here. Isn't it strange that she still hasn't found someone, it's nearly the end of the season?" You inhaled sharply, dramatizing further. "Do you have something to do with it, Lord Kenobi?"

He scoffed, the impossibility of it reflected in his voice. "The diamond of the season?-"

"I thought you deserve nothing less." You explained, but he interjected.

"I'm only interested in one diamond." He said, initiating intense eye contact.

It was your turn to scoff, and run away from his gaze. "I was never the diamond."

"Only because you saw how better you were than the rest, and fled just before the start of the season." His eyebrows were raised, begging for a denial.

"I had planned that trip months ago." You simply stated. "And I came back halfway through summer, didn't I?"

"Just like now."

"Do I need to remind you who you have been spending time with since June?" 

"And where were you coming from tonight, ending your visit of- how long was it?"

"I am fond of traveling. Balls and banquets can entertain someone so far. " You shrugged, "Lord Kenobi, are you trying to say that you missed me?" 

"I could never claim otherwise." 

That was true from your perspective as well. All these years of constant traveling, and this year was the first time you missed what you left behind at home, even during the buzzing, pretense-filled months. None of it seemed that intolerable, and somewhat fun, if you dare to admit. You knew this impression was his doing, and now after your while spent apart, the feeling came back tenfold, almost making you squirm over such loose confessions.

That was it. That was the turning point of the night.

“Truth be told, the night is going much better than I dreamed of, and I almost regret forgetting my dance card.” You raised your chin, and sent him a look. “Would you be so kind to help me find it?” 

You could basically see the gears turning, a fire behind his eyes, fueling the desire growing in the depths of your belly. His gaze was piercing, even after he’d long decided, the truth known to both of you. Your heartbeats must’ve been visible, you imagined, and felt it skip a beat as he licked his lip. “Lead the way.”

Now that’s, how you ended up here.

However, as you look down at his face, the story gets blurry, perhaps outright loses its importance, abandoning your mind. His hair is tousled, a rebel strand in front of his eyes, and moves with every bounce. Your hands are too busy to hold onto his sweaty chest, slightly tugging on the auburn fuzz. You wanted to do that ever since he took his shirt off.

(Then again, you’re not sorry for the amount of time you couldn’t, drowning in him. The moment you felt his expert lips on yours, all your will to protest anything had died. Later, as his fingers joined the show, you quickly realized you were fine with what he gave, but he, ever the gentleman, let you prevail.)

It is a sight. And the moans that fall from his lips surpass the delicate melody the musicians are playing downstairs in every way, which can still faintly be heard. (You never thought an orchestra would accompany you during this, but here you were. It is a detail you’ll remember with a smile while looking back at it, but now, you couldn’t care any less.)

“You’re taking me so well.”  He starts to thrust his hips up slightly, meeting your rhythm, but never overtaking it.

“I know.” You giggle, but the reaction he’s taken notice of is your fingertips digging in further, and your walls fluttering around his cock.

When you start to falter a bit, perhaps due to the fatigue settling on your muscles embarrassingly not long after his words, or his mere presence clouding your brain, his fingers that have been resting on your thighs slowly ascend to your hips. The fingers drenched in your juices, another element that has the coil in your belly tighter. The next few strokes, with his guiding hand, touch something deep inside you, and your jaw hangs open.

“Fuck…” is the only word you can mutter, and he chuckles at it.

“Is that so?” He mocks, but brushes your loose ringlets with a single hand, and caresses your nipple on its way down. The latter shows his true disposition, and that drives you to be more vocal, if you weren’t already.

“You feel… so… good.” You can hardly say, as your puffy clit drag against his skin all so deliciously like this.

He twitches inside you at the compliment, and you throw your head back with a whine. Despite the fact that he would kill to see your face, he doesn’t push, enjoying the state he’s putting you in with his voice. Every praise that falls from his lips earns him a melodic moan, along with the feeling of you tensing and relaxing, always responding to his call in one way or another.

You’re one step away from being a doll at his bend, though you couldn’t care any less, not when you are this close.

He likes it, very very much. Yet, not enough to silence his wishes of how to ruin you, in the best way.

In a blink, you find yourself on your back, and him on top of you. That’s not the first thing you see, though. It is his hand, lifted from wherever it fell, catching your chin to turn your head to him. Sounds of panting are all there is, no movement, no words, not even your rapid heartbeats drumming in your ears seconds ago as if the world stopped for a second.  

His thumb caresses your lower lip, and you let it slip in. God, you can still taste yourself. The revelation has your objections at the change dead, your face twisting, yet he tsks thrice, capturing your attention.

“Let me see those eyes.” Obi Wan commands, and you have no choice but to oblige. “You look so good beneath me.” 

Somehow, his words have you flushing and squirming as if that was the most inappropriate thing happening in this room. Funny, how he breaks your will, and you let it. Against all the talk of your friendship, until an hour ago, you’d have lashed out at an equivalent demeanor, even said in affectionate terms. (Any other way is simply impossible, anyway.)  But, that hour proved itself to be much precious, and now with that glossy gaze, snatched right from the brink of climax, you focus on the doting aspect, how he cannot get enough of the image of you.

You start to writhe, the new emptiness inside you unbearable. “Touch me, Obi Wan…”

He's not proud of the way your begging has his cock leaking, though that hardly stops him. He lives for mutual pleasure, even just yours at the moment, yet you look so pretty like this, grasping the sheets. 

"Like this?" He slides his thumb further into your mouth, relishing the feeling of your tongue swirling around it immediately. Or course he wasn't expecting you to suck him off if you didn't want to, nor would he ever ask for it, he can't help but imagine the feeling, his hips rolling in seek of stimulation.

You shake your head, and his finger is freed with a pop. You frown as the sole contact you have with him is lost. It is a warning sign for him, the fragility of your dream-like state, a reminder of how he has to do better, if he wants to take control. As a gentleman, he wanted to give you everything you desired, but since it was your first time together, a terra incognita, he had to be sure of your limits, so he followed your wishes gladly. The wishes which were masterfully balanced versions of both of your needs. The same problem troubled you too of course, but you were a quick learner, a connoisseur of his taste in no time. The fact that it was very similar to yours was an exciting discovery, certainly a pleasant one, and was a great help, so great that it almost felt like cheating. While he took no issue with your tricks; the urge to take you on his terms, the compulsion to show you how he wants to cherish you couldn’t be suppressed any longer. He had to let you know.

He leans in closer, his arms bend as yours find his shoulders like a habit, “Like this?” He murmurs, right before brushing his lips against yours, effectively swallowing your whine. Though it was a sound of protest, all complementary sentiments die when he nips at your lower lip, and you open your mouth, lost in the sensation of his tongue licking yours, and his sweet essence. In contrast to his other needs taken good care of, he hadn’t taken enough of the feeling of our mouths joining. God, he spent hours imagining your mouth, curling into every shape as smart words spilled from it, enhancing his fascination with you. It fires the flames of haze further, even if he’s not actually properly touching you. Your hand roams his neck, then etches itself into his silky hair. You’ve done that a few times now (and found his response most addicting), but it is hardly satisfactory compared to the amounts you dreamed of doing during these last couple of months. You saw him prim and proper mostly, not a strand out of place, making you marvel at its excellence, and the itch to mess it up growing stronger each instance, a stark contrast to your surroundings. Also, there were times the infamous piece fell in front of his eyes, and sometimes even more disheveled than that, riding a horse, enjoying sports with his friends, and once after a bath, when your family visit started a little earlier than planned. You were always admiring the way it reflected light, creating almost a halo around his head, especially in sunlight. It is the first thing your eye is drawn to whenever you’re in the same place, a beacon of sorts. You never thought you’d be this amazed by hair, yet the moans he produces when you tug on it, add to your astonishment, and you’re not sure if you can look at it again, without being reminded of this moment.

He breaks the kiss as for you to catch your breath, for he has long kept you away from it. Still, he continues to pepper you with tons of them, scattered all across your jaw and neck, in search of that sweet spot that has you cursing. It is not a serious journey, in fact, he does more than press his lips against your skin properly, tease you with his open mouth, drag his tongue along the taut muscle, nip and outright bite, once.

“No marks-“ You protest. Futile. You should’ve warned before he started to nibble, way before he sank his teeth, but it has happened after all, and you can already feel blood settling on the sites of his attack. “What I am going to tell my maid now?”

“The truth.” He retorts. “Of how you led Lord Kenobi into our bed, and did dirty, unspeakable things with him.”

That earns him a harsh pull at his scalp, and a pat on his shoulder. He meets with your glaring gaze, and cheeks redder than a minute ago. So, he’s still on your good side. Barely.

“Apologies, my dear.” He takes the hand that smacked him, and places a peck onto your palm before placing it back. You can’t break the eye contact as he does so, something about his appearance, perhaps his position, or the charming contours of his face, or the way he deals with your anger keeps you from kicking him out. Caressing your open legs, he massages them ‘til they relax afresh, squeezing at the soft flesh. You hiss when his movement nears your inner thighs, thanks to his beard, and the climax it brought you. The gesture hints, still, there’s the matter of fire burning in your belly. “Couldn’t resist, you know me. Let me make it up to you.”

He wastes one more second to carve this image inside his head, then fulfills his promise. He likes the way you tremble while you wait, a whimper leaving your mouth at him taking his cock into his hand and stroking it a few times. God, how you wish that was your hand. Damn your stubbornness, and demand for compensation. You put extreme effort into staying still, releasing a shaky breath when he places the tip at your entrance.

Remember when he said “ruin”?

He doesn’t push it in, instead letting it slide up your slick folds, and tap against your clit. You nearly jolt at the touch, yet again tasting bliss, even if it is in mere drops. He repeats the action, and you sob, digging your nails into his shoulders. Maybe you’re the one leaving marks now, but you don’t care. Eye for an eye you can say, in retrospect.

“You’re so wet.” He can’t stop looking into your glistening core. He also can hear it, the squelching sounds echoing at his every movement. He knows you can too, that it calms your nerves, though they act up for different reasons. “All this for me?”

Unfortunately, you are late to realize he doesn’t take your moans for an answer. You can’t help it, you are unable to form words. Even if you gather the strength, they die out at your throat, especially under his piercing look. Fuck, he loves how cockdumb you’ve become for him.

He takes pity on you then, dropping his cock to briefly rest on your opening, and forces his fat tip in.

Your back arches, a throaty sound filling the room. He shushes right next to your ear, in an effort to calm you down as he slips the rest in. It is as if you’re taking him the first time, like you weren’t riding him moments ago.

“Fuck-“ That’s the only reaction, the only answer he needs. You fall back into the sheets, the first time he rolls his hips, and sets a new rhythm, a slow one to kindle the flame once more. Your hair probably getting tangled from the way it’s rubbing against the sheets, and your legs are split wide open. You feel every vein and ridge moving against your walls, the slight resistance disappearing in no time. His chest brushes against yours, and combined with the warmth of his breath, so close to yours, it’s easy to let go of your worries.

This is why you ended up here.

“Faster!” While he already feels great, it’s not the exact pattern to provide that sweet release, not in the timeframe you hoped.

“I want this to last, dear.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. A part of it due to irritation. Being subjected to that response before, he snickers to see you’re still you, even when you’re literally fucked out of your mind. As he does so, his lips skim yours. You take it, greedily, one hand first on his neck to ensure he stays, then to his unruly tress, aspiring to compel him into the middle ground. That earns you a few groans, yes, but his will doesn’t seem to falter even a little bit.

Perseverance, is a mutual quality, as you already know.

You slowly release the grip you have on his head, emphasis on slowly. It goes unnoticed, thanks to your timely bite, the same assault he once carried out. You don’t waste the access to his tongue, sucking on it. You’re not sure if his moans are increased in number, or if it feels more because you swallow every single one of them, but the fact that his beard starts to prick your cheeks harder gives you an idea.

Your free hand falls into sheets and slithers across the length of your body. Just a little more- you’re almost about to touch your –

His fingers wrap around your wrist instantly, dragging it up, a little further away from your face. You twist your neck, a wail coming out as you reject his kiss.

Only to be met by the sight of that said fingers running up your palm, and interlock themselves among yours.

Your breath hitches, for reasons unknown to you.

“Ah- ah -ah.” He tuts, though there’s not a hint of disappointment in his voice. “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you do all the work?”

You can’t believe one physical contact, and his words, are enough to carry you to that previous peak. Your pussy contracts around him, beyond your control, an indication of your closeness, nothing compared to before.

“Ngh- that’s it.” He encourages, “Just relax and take it.” That’s more sincerity than you’ve ever heard from him.

It goes on and on for a while, him doing exactly what he promised to do, and fulfilling his wishes in the process. He already knows this could go on ‘til morning, and he still wouldn’t be completely satisfied, longing for your presence the second he leaves the bed. Still, he continues, pushing himself to his limit, and that’s getting quite harder when you clamp on him that hard. He feels his cock leaking, begging for that sweet end.

When his arm that’s not supporting his weight travels down, caressing your hip before pressing his thumb to your clit, finally, you reward it with a whisper of his name, a sound he won’t dare to forget. Your back arches impossibly higher, and he has to lean back, abandoning his other hold.

Your limb stays in the spot he left it.

He curses at the realization, perhaps its effect mirroring yours when he first initiated the contact. Fuck, how are you so perfect? He snaps his hips harder, and circles his thumb, feeling it throb.

“Obi Wan-I’m c-“

He loves how your words are cut with the need to scream that you gulp down, only resigned to breathing as your face contorts with pleasure. “Cum for me, love.”

Your moans blend into each other, as he cannot stay still at the feeling of your walls squeezing him so tight. He holds your trembling thigh, fondling the soft flesh, adoring the way it spills from his grip. He doesn’t stop ‘til they settle again once more, and even a little longer than that, pulling out in the last minute to cover your belly with his spend. 

That act keeps you from turning to your side, and feeds the desire to hug the sheets, a soft but firm ground for your senses to return. You're not complainant of it anyways, you have a far better view in front of you, defined muscles undulating with each heavy breath, glistening due to the light coat of sweat covering them, lips puffy and slightly flushed with blood, as well as his cheeks. You always thought he was devilishly handsome, but this, this is something else. The world should consider itself lucky, or it would bend to his will just from his looks. Or unlucky, for the honor is bestowed upon a handful of people. 

He believes he's blessed with the sight upon him, too. Still holding onto your thigh, he delights in spontaneous tremors that possess it. If he looks closely, he's sure he can see the faint mark he left. Your hair is sprawled around, much in contrast to the delicate up-dos you and every noblewoman fashioned, its most natural form, and the intimacy of it definitely causes a small breakdown. You belong in a painting, depicting goddesses and nymphs, a grace outside the limits of time and culture. Your droopy lids and tired pull at the corners of your mouth fill his chest with pride and more adoration, like after his every successful attempt to elicit a reaction from you. It happens often, thanks to the understanding that grows between the two of you, but every example is still treasured in in his mind.

“Well, I don’t know any better way to spend the night.”

You giggle. “I agree.”

“We should’ve done this before.”

Your lifted brows are the perfect answer. Like it’s that easy.

But he has a point, too.

In the comfortable silence, he gets up from bed, a sigh at the roar coming from downstairs, drowning the music. That’s still going, huh? You watch as he wets the nearest towel, and returns, cleaning the mess with unexpected gentleness that it almost tickles. There’s no aim to steal one more touch at his movements, no personal gain except an easy conscience, and even that is a stretch because it’s most natural to him, his understanding of tenderness.

“Well, thank you, sir.” You sit up, with a yawn, and scooch backward to your pillows as he retreats to give himself the same treatment. “And my nightgown, please.” You point to it, and amusingly follow his subtle headshake, and efforts to hand it over. He hesitates for a second at the last minute, considering rebellion, a last joke. You see it, and snatch the fabric from his grip before he can tighten it. He can feel it sliding over his skin, the light material flying. You slip it on, aware of his voyeur. with a victorious smile cut too short as exhaustion creeps into your bones. You’re no different, in any case, settling into the fluffy pillows, curiously examining each piece of clothing he puts on from afar, the unwritten rule of his habits, his hidden glances at your mirror in a feeble pursuit to tame his messy hair. You’re willing to be charged guilty for that.

He stalls, though, you can feel it after a while, around the time sleep clouds your vision. How could anyone blame him for not wanting to leave, carve your picture to his mind, and calm his yet again straining cock at it?

“You should be going. Servants are going to be wandering these corridors for orders, soon.” Your heart winces at the warning, because he's not the type to need it, or disregard you to put you at any risk. But your cognation runs thin, and he needs to know the dangers he might face. 

"True. Right. You're correct." Is that a stutter? "Good night, my lady."

"Good night, Lord Kenobi.

"Glad to be of help in stretching your legs." 

The cushion falls short to exactly hit him, but the sentiment is clear. 

In the morning, you uncover the reasons behind his diversion. 

Bastard signed every slot in your dance card.

[make-me-imagine]

Worth Saving

Plot: When you are on a stealth mission in a rebel base, Obi-Wan must listen from a distance. When you are found out, injured and trapped, Obi-Wan races to save you, even when you tell him it's not worth it.

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Gn!Reader

Prompt: A is alone and hurt badly, they can talk to B through an earpiece/phone. Eventually A stops talking and B thinks they lost them. But they find them alive.

Requested By: Anonymous; this is a really old mystery prompt request lmao

A/n: I don't recall if they've ever even used ear-pieces in Star Wars except for with pilots in their ships, or if they just like...don't exist. But let's pretend they do lol

Warnings: Mild cursing, mentions of blood and death, wounds. Pretty angsty. Lack of a sense of self-worth from reader.

Words: 2.3k

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You tapped on the new piece of hardware hanging over your ear as you walked through the darkened backrooms of the base.

"Is this thing working?" You asked in a hushed tone.

"Yes, I can hear you just fine." You heard Obi-Wan's voice come through with a small amount of static mixed in.

"Oh good, now I can have your voice in my head telling me all the things I do wrong all the time now."

You could almost hear the smirk on Obi-Wan's face at your sarcastic remark before he replied "Perhaps this will stop you from making your impulsive decisions then."

"Don't get your hopes up."

Obi-Wan smiled again as he checked his scanners again. Even in these kinds of situations you could always make him smile.

He was nervous for you, being alone in a rebel base with no real knowledge of what you were actually looking for. And he hated that he was so far away, unable to get closer due to the base's ability to scan for ships.

So you snuck in yourself. Obi-Wan insisted on coming too, but you needed someone to be prepared to get you out fast, besides, if you got caught, there was a higher chance of him being recognized. You had a better ability of blending in, and no one knew your face, you couldn't be tracked back to the resistance.

"Damn"

Obi-Wan's heart dropped when he heard you curse, immedietely sitting up in his chair his hands hvering over the ships controls in case he needed to make his way to you.

"Y/n? What is it?"

"Someones coming, hold on." Your voice was barely audible, but Obi-Wan held his tongue, and his breath.

You snuck into a nearby room and leaned against the wall in the darkness. The sound of people walking past echoed through your ears.

Your heart was hammering as you held the handle of your phaser tightly.

"Y/n?" Obi-Wan's voice spoke softly, worry obvious.

"I'm good." You whispered and you heard an audible sigh of relief.

Looking around the room you had snuck into, you realized it was full of computers and paperwork. Looking closer, you saw drives locked up in a cabinet. Your interest piqued, you inched closer, wondering if the information on the drives might be valuable.

"I found a bunch of data drives"

"Any way of knowing what's on them?"

Breaking the lock, you took as many drives as you could fit in your bag. "No Idea but I grabbed some. I'm going to try and get into their system."

Able to hack in, you were only able to find one file on a potential weapon development for the rebels before you suddenly heard the door behind you slide open.

You dropped down, trying not to be seen, but you weren't fast enough.

"There they are!"

Through the comm's Obi-Wan heard an unfamiliar yell before the sound of weapons fire was heard. Obi-Wan immediately started the ship and made his way towards the base.

Hearing you grunt in pain, Obi-Wan's heart dropped "Y/n?"

"I've been hit" You said with panic in your voice as you fired your weapon at the rebels. Killing one, and wounding the other, you managed to get out of the room.

You raced down the corridors, your abdomen burning from your wound. As alarms started to blare through the base, you looked for a way out, but as the sound of running approached, you felt a sense of dread wash over you.

"I'll be there soon Y/n, can you get to the pick up point?"

"I'll get back to you on that."

Weapons fire filled the comm's again and panic coursed through Obi-Wan. He knew it was too dangerous to send you alone, he hated that he didn't go with you, he hated that he didn't risk the resistance being linked to the mission.

When silence came through the comm's Obi-Wan spoke "Y/n, what's going on?"

He heard your heavy breaths through the comm "I can't get out, they've got the place flooded with people. Obi-Wan, they knew I was here. They didn't just find me, they were looking for me."

Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat "Are you sure?"

You nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see you "Yes, they knew"

Anger and worry coursed through him, who found out? Or, who betrayed you?

"Where are you?"

"I found a small storage room, I'm hiding in, I don't know if they'll find me. If they do, I'm screwed."

"How are your injuries?"

You looked down at your body and you swallowed. After the first hit to your abdomen in the control room, the ambush of rebels in the hall did more damage. You had been hit in the shoulder, arm and leg. It wasn't good, you already felt your body weakening.

Your clothes were burned from the phaser fire, the wounds were cauterized, but blood seeped from them due to your desperate escape.

"Not good."

Obi-Wan's stomach turned "I'm almost there, just hang on okay?"

"Obi-Wan, don't"

"Don't what?"

"Don't come for me."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm too far into the base, it's too risky. And I'm too injured. It's not worth it."

Obi-Wan let out a scoff of anger and surprise.

"You mean you're not worth it?"

You always had this mindset. You always threw yourself into dangerous situations so other's didn't have too, because you thought you wouldn't be as missed, that you wouldn't be worth as much, that no one would really care if you died.

And he hated it, he hated that you didn't see your worth. He hated that you didn't see how much he cared.

Your silence told him exactly what he already knew.

"How can you still think that?" He asked, his voice desperate "How can you think after all this time, after all the people you've saved, that you aren't worth it?"

"It's an occupational hazard I guess." You spoke softly, obviously in pain, but he could hear the forced smile on your face as you spoke.

You were never one to want to worry him, so you always made jokes.

"Even if I don't think I'm worth it. It's too dangerous for you. The base is flooded with people, you may be a jedi, but you can't make it through all of them to find me. You'll get yourself killed."

"I'm coming to get you Y/n, nothing is stopping me."

Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you weren't sure if it was because of the pain, panic, or the way Obi-Wan was speaking.

"Is this what it feels like to be you, when I make reckless decisions?"

You heard Obi-Wan let out a soft huff "Yes"

"No wonder you always get so upset with me."

"Occupational hazard" He mumbled as his knuckles turned white due to the grip of his hands.

He could hear your voice slowly getting softer, you were loosing strength.

"I'm getting close Y/n, just hang on."

You could hear the sound of footsteps nearby and fear coursed through you. You pointed you weapon at the door, prepared to fire if needed. Even if you'd die here, you wouldn't let them take you out easily.

The footsteps faded and you felt relief wash over you. You hissed as a jolt of pain shot through your stomach.

"Y/n?"

"Obi-Wan, it's too late." Your voice was softer now, as your eyelids grew heavier. Your clothes slowly soaked with blood, your wounds aching.

"Don't you dare say that. I know you're stronger than this, so just stay awake, I'm almost there!"

Obi-Wan could feel himself losing to his emotions, but he didn't care, not now. He couldn't lose you, he wouldn't.

"Always so worried about me, always caring so much more than others. Why?" You were mumbling but Obi-Wan could still hear you.

Obi-Wan felt his eyes burning, hearing the pain and worry in your tone "Don't you know?"

"Yes. But If I'm going to die I'd like to hear it at least once."

Obi-Wan shook his head, "You're not going to die. You're going to hold on, and I'll tell you in person. How does that sound?"

"So now you're trying to bribe me into surviving?"

"Anything to make you stay"

You didn't notice your grip loosening and your gun falling to the floor, or the way your body began to slump. You tried to focus on Obi-Wan's voice, to stay awake, but you felt yourself falling into darkness.

"I don't...think I h-have...a choice"

"Y/n? Y/n!"

When you didn't response, and he was only met with silence and static, dread washed over him.

"Y/n?"

Seeing the base come into view, Obi-Wan began to land his ship. Fear, anger and determination coursed through him. He wouldn't believe you were gone, not until he found you. And if- if you were dead, he wouldn't leave you here, not alone.

Obi-Wan managed to get half-way through the base before encountering rebels. After a fight, and a light wound to his arm, he made his way through the base again.

Reaching out with the force, he felt for your presence, any sign of you nearby. Feeling nothing, he felt his heart clench painfully in his chest.

Suddenly, just for a second, he felt a familiar presence, a sort of warmth washed over him, but then it was gone. But it was enough for him as he picked up his pace, and began running.

Finding a small door sort of hidden in a corridor, Obi-Wan knew it would be the sort of place you would go too. Going in silently, his eyes immediately spotted you at the back of the small room and his heart dropped.

You were still, no movement could be seen. Your phaser was lying on the ground beside you, your hands limp and head to the side. Your clothes were soaked with blood, as phaser burns could be seen.

Obi-Wan ran to you taking your face in his hands. He felt relief wash over him. You were still alive, though barely.

He knew it would e dangerous getting you out. He'd have to carry you, but he was not leaving you. Scooping you up into his arms, he made his way out into the corridor. He could hear the sound of footsteps nearby. Taking a breath, he started to run, to get you to safety, so save you.

--- --- ---

You weren't sure how long you had been in the darkness, lost and numb. But slowly, you started to feel as though there was someone in the darkness with you. Like you were underwater and someone was reaching for you, all you needed to do was take their hand.

"Don't go Y/n."

The voice was familiar, but you had trouble placing it. It was warm, it felt safe.

"I'm right here, we're almost out of this, just don't let go."

Suddenly, like a jolt of electricity you realized. It was Obi-Wan. He had come for you after all. But you were sure you were dead. Weren't you?

No. Not yet.

Darkness swallowed you again, but you felt lighter, as though you weren't drowning anymore, but floating, waiting to wake up.

When your eyes finally fluttered open, the room around you was unfamiliar, but the presence beside you was a comforting one.

Obi-Wan stared at you for a moment, surprised by your sudden consciousness. Relief followed quickly though as he leaned forward.

You met his eyes before you spoke, your voice soft "You came for me"

He smiled softly "Of course I did."

"Even though I told you not too."

"Yes"

Your eyes wandered to his arm, which was now in a sling. "You got hurt"

"Yes."

He saw the guilt cross your face and he reached out and placed his hand over the top of yours. You met his eyes again as he spoke.

"It's nothing serious. I got off a lot better than you did. You've been asleep for days."

You looked down at Obi-Wan's hand as it encased yours. "I heard you, talking to me. Telling me to hold on."

Obi-Wan smiled softly. He knew what you were referring too. When he finally got you back to the ship, he reached out to you with the force. He knew there was a connection to the force within you, even if you refused to acknowledge it. That was how you could hear him.

"And you did hold on."

You nodded softly, seemingly lost in thought. Obi-Wan squeezed your hand softly and you looked back to his face. Your eyes remained locked in silence for a moment before he spoke.

"You asked why I cared so much for you" He began, his voice uncertain, knowing the things he wanted to say were meant to stay a secret. Knowing he was going back on his own training and beliefs for simply feeling them.

You shook your head, stopping him "You don't need to tell me Obi-Wan"

Silence fell as your eyes remained locked. You knew how he felt, and he knew how you felt. But that was all it could be. And you both knew it.

In a moment of desperation, before you thought you were going to die, you wanted to hear him say it, just once. But now you were alive, safe again. And those words could no longer be said again.

"It's okay." You said softly, your emotion obvious in your voice "I know."

Obi-Wan smiled, but there was only sadness and regret behind it.

He wanted to tell you so badly, but both of you understood the consequences if he let those emotions take hold of him. You smiled at him, but there was sadness behind it. The same as he held onto.

You both knew how you felt, and you both knew that feeling was worth holing onto, worth saving until you could final feel it freely. But for now, it would remain unsaid.

xx End xx

Not sure how I feel about how this came out, but I hope you enjoyed it!

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[grippingbeskar]

had you said the words

obi-wan kenobi x fem!reader

word count: 7.5k

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

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

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

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

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

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

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

You made one mistake.

One.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t regret it though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, you lied.” 

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

Not over me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It couldn’t happen.

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

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

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

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

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

“You mean you-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long?”

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

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

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

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

Just in case.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You only care right now if he does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have not. I am not sure I know-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good strange? Or bad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just- anything. Please touch me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want you all the time.”

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

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

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

You don’t care.

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

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

[aurora-starwars]

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[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

Never Grow Up

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Prompt - ‘Your little hand’s wrapped around my finger and it's so quiet in the world tonight.’

Requested - Yes - Anon

You hadn’t been entirely sure what was happening, one minute you were fighting back to back with Commander Grazer, a dozen more clones fighting around you until the droid army was in pieces. It had been a long battle and you were panting by the end of it, exhausted and desperately praying that Obi-Wan was winning his own battle on Utapau.

When you turned around to check on your men you froze as you came face to face with a blaster and Commander Grazer’s face showing his conflicting emotions as his arm shook slightly. You had just been about to open your mouth when you glanced around and saw the others all had their guns upright and steadily pointed directly at you.

“What is this?” You asked as you reignited your lightsaber, not wanting to use it against the men under your command.

“Execute Order 66!” Commander Grazer said and suddenly there were blaster shots being fired at you from every direction, you just about managed to jump out of the way, using the Force to push the clones aside as you used your lightsaber to deflect as many shots as you could.

The ships were a good few klicks away and you had a full battalion following after you as you darted away from their shots, desperately trying not to get hit. It didn’t help that the planet’s terrain was steep and uneven, full of hills and cliffs.

One of the clones managed to get close enough to try and grab you but when you pushed back, using the Force to push him away you ended up sending yourself tumbling down one of the deep hills, wincing as you felt sharp rocks slicing your robe, some deep enough to pierce your skin.

By the time you had stopped falling your hands were cut, bruises would definitely form and you could feel blood sticking to your shirt. You didn’t have time to stop though, blaster shots were still coming from above and you could see the clones making their way down towards you.

As you ran towards the ships you pressed at your comm but it had taken a hit during your fall and there was no way to get in touch with anybody to see what was happening. You couldn’t even fathom what was happening, these clones, those men had become more than just soldiers under your command, they had turned into friends, family, you fought side by side with them every day. For them to just turn so suddenly didn’t make sense.

You ran until your sides hurt, until the cuts and bruises ached painfully and your feet begged for a break, you pressed on and eventually saw the ships in the distance. The clones were still behind you but you had put a fair bit of distance between you and them, twisting and turning here and there, but every so often a blaster bolt would shoot past you forcing you to run faster.

By the time you actually got to the ships you felt about ready to pass out, the battle that had tired you out to begin with felt like it had happened in another lifetime. You knew you had less than a minute to get on a ship and off the planet before the clones were in their own ships trying to shoot you down.

Somehow you managed it though, jumping into hyperspace just as the clones came into view. You had quickly typed in the coordinates for Coruscant but once you were in hyperspace you figured that might not be the best plan, you weren’t sure just how widespread this thing was with the clones since your comm had broken.

You pressed a few more buttons on the ship before a voice came through, a voice you recognised well and had you sighing in relief to hear but then you registered his words and felt your blood turn cold.

“This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen, with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi. Trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple.”

The Jedi Order had fallen along with the Republic? How could that possibly be the case when just hours before you and Obi-Wan had parted ways with every intent to have the war finished when you saw each other again.

You keyed in Obi-Wan’s private comm number and felt your fear worsen when there was no reply after more than a dozen attempts to contact him. You prayed to the Force he was safe, you knew to get his message out he would have to have gone back to the Temple. Your mind kept trying to conjure every scenario, every bad thing that could have happened to Obi-Wan but you tried to do as he instructed, you had to trust in the Force.

You were still heading toward Coruscant and knew that you had to change course, you were still a few days out but didn’t want to be anywhere near the planet, it was too dangerous. You needed a new destination but had no idea where was safe.

You wanted Obi-Wan.

With Obi-Wan not answering his comm you moved onto other people who might know something. Anakin was your next call but you had a bad feeling, he had been on Coruscant and whatever had happened with the clones with you it was clearly happening on Coruscant too and when Anakin didn’t answer you tried desperately to shut your mind off. You tried Padmé after that, she was also on Coruscant but she would have been rushed away from the danger and yet she too failed to answer.

You felt sick to your stomach, whatever was happening on Coruscant must have been deadly, the Empire had taken over and you just hoped your friends were safe.

You tried one more person, praying and begging with the Force to let this call connect because you didn’t know what you were supposed to do if it didn’t.

“Y/N?” A voice exclaimed startling you back to reality, eyes snapping open to look at the holo in front of you. “You’re alive!”

“Bail.” You breathed out, tears stinging your eyes and you barely choked back a sob at finally getting through to somebody. “Thank the Force, I tried everyone but nobody is answering. What’s going on?”

Bail looked down, a grief stricken look on his face that had you even further on edge. You weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer.

“How much do you know?” He asked you instead of answering your question, he wasn’t quite sure he could tell you.

“I got Obi-Wan’s message.” You told him after taking a deep breath, your mind still running wild and Bail’s avoidance didn’t help. “I know the Order and the Republic have fallen, I know the clones have turned against us.”

“Yes.” Bail sighed and he looked back up at you looking older than you’d ever seen him before. “That is the basics of what has happened. Where are you now? If you got Obi-Wan’s message you know you mustn’t return to Coruscant.”

You nodded but didn’t answer him, staying silent for a minute as you played with the ring on your finger. It wasn’t really allowed, possessions weren’t a thing the Jedi had but nobody had ever brought it up and it had been a gift from Obi-Wan, one that you never wanted to part with.

You knew you had to ask, knew you had to know but you hated that with one little question you could suddenly be in a galaxy without Obi-Wan. You took a shaky breath, a tear falling down your cheek as you looked at Bail.

“Obi-Wan,” You managed to choke out, pausing to swallow around the lump in your throat as more tears slid from your eyes. “Obi-Wan, is he-”

You couldn’t force yourself to say the word, refused to even speak it into existence. The sympathetic look Bail wore did nothing to help the devastation running through you. You couldn’t imagine a galaxy without Obi-Wan, you’d known him your whole life. As a Jedi you had been taken to the Temple at a young age and you didn’t remember a time before that, Obi-Wan had already been there when you arrived and the two of you had been inseparable ever since.

It might’ve been against the Jedi code but you didn’t care, you knew you loved him even if you could ignore it most days.

He couldn’t be gone, he just couldn’t be, not Obi-Wan. A galaxy without Obi-Wan was not one you wanted to be in.

“He’s alive, Y/N.” Bail told you, forcing his voice to be steady even as his face softened as you broke out into relieved sobs, when he hadn’t answered your calls you’d assumed the worst but he was alive.

“Where is he?” You asked and Bail didn’t hesitate to tell you he had travelled to Tatooine and he was staying there, he sent the coordinates over to you and you quickly changed the destination and turned back to Bail.

“Thank you, Bail. If you ever need anything you know where to find me.” You told him sincerely. You had known Bail for years, becoming close friends with both him and Breha and you were beyond relieved to see he was unharmed.

“Likewise, Y/N. Stay safe and…keep an eye on Obi-Wan, he’s going to need all the support he can get.” Bail told you and you frowned, something about his tone telling you whatever was happening with Obi-Wan went deeper than the fall of the Order and the Republic.

“I’ll always look after Obi-Wan.” You told him, watching as a smile spread across his face and he nodded, knowing full well that you and Obi-Wan loved each other and would die before letting the other get hurt. “Stay safe, Bail.”

It was still a two day journey to Tatooine and your mind ran wild in those days. Bail hadn’t told you anything more than what Obi-Wan’s message warned about so until you were reunited with Obi-Wan you were left with the most dreadful thoughts. During your journey you didn’t sleep, the one time you managed to drift off your dreams were plagued with screams and death and you forced yourself to stay awake as you flew through hyperspace.

You finally arrived on Tatooine, following the coordinates given to you by Bail and felt a wave of relief rush through you when you saw a small shack in the middle of nowhere, far enough away that nobody would stumble across it but close enough that Obi-Wan could travel out for supplies when needed.

When you landed the ship you had to take a moment to just sit back in the seat and let out a shaky breath as you stared at the shack, even though you had been told Obi-Wan was alive and safe, you knew you wouldn’t truly believe it until you saw the man, so with another deep breath you pulled yourself together and headed off the ship.

Obi-Wan had heard the ship and he was proud that his wave of panic only lasted a minute before he reached out and felt your Force signature. Once he had pushed aside his fear he felt his heart speed back up for a different reason, you were alive. He had truly thought that after days of not hearing from you that something had happened, that you hadn’t been able to fight the clones off.

With Luke still in his arms, awake and content to be held, he made his way outside and watched as the ship's door opened and you walked down the ramp. You looked worse for wear, clearly injured, robes torn and muddied but none of that mattered, you were alive, that was the most important thing.

He walked to meet you halfway, noticing the exact moment your eyes widened as you took note of Luke in his arms, it seemed Bail hadn’t shared everything with you. When you finally reached him your eyes moved from Luke to look in Obi-Wan’s.

“Is that…” You went to ask, trailing off as your eyes fell back to Luke.

“Y/N, meet Luke Skywalker.” Obi-Wan said softly and your gaze snapped back to him, eyes wide and watery as you tried to keep the tears where they were but it was no use, once one leaked over the rest followed. “Would you like to hold him?”          

You opened your mouth to say something but the words clearly died on your tongue as it fell back shut and instead you gave him a shaky nod. Obi-Wan smiled as he carefully transferred the baby to you, guiding your hand to hold his head properly and then just watched as you looked down at Luke with a mix of emotions playing out on your face.

Your hand came up to gently run along the baby’s cheek before you let out a choked sob when Luke’s tiny hand came up to wrap around your finger. You looked back to Obi-Wan and saw tears welling up in his own eyes as he stepped closer, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest as he placed a gentle kiss to your hair and looked down at you and Luke, so thankful that he had something good left after all that had been lost.

Not much later you and Obi-Wan were settled on the sofa, you tucked against Obi-Wan and Luke cradled in your arms. Given the past few days, the fighting, the overwhelming emotions, the pain and suffering, the dragging yourself off the ground when all you wanted to do was give up, this small part of Tatooine, this quiet corner of the planet Obi-Wan had picked out felt so quiet compared to how loud the rest of the galaxy seemed.

Your gaze was on Luke, heart equal parts full of love for the child and pain for what had become of his parents. You hadn’t had the full story yet, Obi-Wan hadn’t said much and you were content with the silence for now but you knew nothing good could have happened if Obi-Wan had Luke.

Eventually the baby’s eyes closed and began to flutter as he fell asleep in your arms and a small smile tugged at your lips as you stood up and carefully walked over to the small crib Obi-Wan had set up, tucking Luke in and placing a gentle kiss to his forehead before joining Obi-Wan back on the sofa.

In the short amount of time it had taken you to put Luke to bed Obi-Wan had gotten up to get supplies to patch you up. Most of the injuries were cuts and bruises, nothing too serious and most of them had closed up after your long travels.

“Will you tell me what happened?” You asked softly, wincing as Obi-Wan gently ran a wet cloth over a long cut on the side of your stomach.

Obi-Wan was silent for long enough that you resigned yourself to not knowing but then he sighed, a deep, heavy, tired sigh before starting at the beginning with the battle on Utapau right up until giving Leia over to Bail and leaving them behind to bring Luke to Tatooine.

By the end of it you were all patched up and tears fell down both your cheeks. You felt even more exhausted after hearing everything, heartbroken as you cried for everything that had been lost. How had things gone so wrong in the span of just a few days?

Obi-Wan looked drained and when he suggested retiring for the night you didn’t hesitate to agree, letting him pull you from the sofa and into the small bedroom. That night neither of you got much sleep despite feeling more exhausted than you could ever remember being, both of you curled against each other as your thoughts played through the last few days.

For a long while things were tense, the weight of the fall sat heavily on both your shoulders, knowing that the organisation you had dedicated your lives to and the only home either of you had ever known was gone like it had never been there, it was a lot to come to terms with.

Luke seemed to grow more and more every day until he was a small boy who began resembling another little boy you had once known although that felt like another lifetime ago.

You knew Obi-Wan had bad days, days where he excused himself to the nearest town because looking at Luke hurt, you know he hated himself for it no matter what you said to try and convince him that it made sense. You got it too, sometimes you looked at him and saw a glimpse of Padmé’s smile, sometimes the resemblance to Anakin was too much for you too.

Things did get easier though, eventually the hurt of losing the Order faded into something easier to live with, the pain of losing Padmé and Anakin had become a part of you and all you could do was keep their memory alive.

“I wish he could stay this little.” You murmured as Luke cuddled into you, squashed between you and Obi-Wan on the sofa, eyes closed as Obi-Wan finished reading a story to him.  

“I know what you mean.” Obi-Wan smiled as he looked down at Luke, the boy hadn’t long since turned five but Obi-Wan could still remember how he had cradled the small baby against his chest like it was only yesterday.

For years during your time in the Order you and Obi-Wan had always known you were special to each other, it was different to how you were friends with the other younglings, you and Obi-Wan had been inseparable from day one. Both of you were loyal to the Order and followed the code even if it did mean you couldn’t have the other.

Now there was no code, there was no Order for you to be loyal to. All that was left was this small patch of land on Tatooine and each other. You had already been here for five years, five years that seemed to have flown by in the blink of an eye and had let yourself fall more and more in love with him now that there was nothing stopping you.

You and Obi-Wan had never mentioned it, never defined it but you didn’t have to, you both knew it was love. Waking up next to each other every morning, moving in sync with each other as you cooked, Obi-Wan watching with a soft smile as you and Luke danced around his room whilst getting him ready for the day, the lingering touches, the way you got to fall asleep curled against each other, it was all love.

“Sometimes I wish we could give him more though, a life beyond this shack, one where he could go to school, one where he could make friends.” Obi-Wan sighed, letting his head fall to the side so he could look back at you, you who were smiling at him with such a softness to it.

“Careful what you wish for, Obi-Wan,” You chuckled, reaching over to brush a strand of hair from his face. “Before we know it he’ll be sneaking off into town and wanting to move out and go on his own adventures. Besides, I quite like our little shack in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yes, I suppose our small corner of the galaxy isn’t so bad.” Obi-Wan’s smile widened at your laugh, letting himself lean into your touch causing you to trail your fingers down his cheek and letting your thumb brush across his beard.

Obi-Wan had been a good Jedi, he had followed the code despite how many times he had thought about you in ways that would have seen him thrown out. But five years had passed by since everything had changed and he couldn’t remember what he was holding on to anymore.

It was the easiest thing in the world to lean across, careful not to jostle Luke too much as he did, and press his lips to yours, enjoying the little muffled surprised noise you made against his lips as he kissed you softly, your hand curling around his jaw as you pulled him closer, both of you knowing in that moment that this was right, that the two of you belonged to each other.

“He’s not mad at you.” You told Luke softly as you sat down on the sand next to him, smiling softly as he lifted the toy ship Obi-Wan had gotten for him in the air and flew it around half-heartedly.

“Yes he is.” Luke mumbled, refusing to look at you as he spoke.

It had only been a few years and somehow your life had changed so much. You’d gone from relationships being forbidden to freely and openly loving Obi-Wan, overjoyed with the fact you could kiss him whenever you wanted, with the way you could tell him that you loved him as many times as you wanted.

You and Obi-Wan had been raising Luke for nine years now, the little boy next to you the same age his dad had been when you first met him and the resemblance made you choke up some days, especially when he started showing an interest in the ship you’d brought to Tatooine all those years back, wanting to know everything about it and begged you to let him fly it.

Neither you nor Obi-Wan had left the planet since arriving, that was until today of course. When you and Obi-Wan heard another ship landing outside your hand flew to your lightsaber, Obi-Wan had long since got rid of his and instead reached for a blaster that still seemed odd for him to have even after so long of him owning it.

Obi-Wan had told you to stay in the house with Luke, the little boy having no reason to fear whoever had landed and instead was curious, trying to peer through the windows. As Obi-Wan exited the little shack you joined Luke and stayed where you were for all of thirty seconds before you saw the person who walked off the ship.

You were out of the door and past Obi-Wan before he himself had a chance to see who had arrived and he watched as you wrapped your arms around the figure, barely catching Luke as he ran after you, most likely wanting to see the new ship rather than the new person.

“Bail!” You exclaimed as you pulled out of the hug, “It’s so good to see you.”

“Y/N, Obi-Wan.” Bail smiled before looking down, Luke suddenly shy and clinging to Obi-Wan’s pants. “And this must be Luke.”

“Not that it isn’t good to see you, Bail,” Obi-Wan said and you shot him a look, sure it didn’t bode well that Bail had showed up on Tatooine for the first time since you’d arrive but he didn’t have to jump straight into it, he could at least invite him into the house first. “But you wouldn’t be here unless something had happened.”

“I’m afraid you’re right. I need your help, Obi-Wan.” Bail said and you could see the exact moment Obi-Wan shut himself off, already shaking his head and not letting Bail continue before he cut him off.

“No. Whatever it is you can handle, I won’t get involved again. I have my own family to take care of.” Obi-Wan told him firmly, Bail frowning as he nodded, his eyes falling down to Luke before he sighed.

“And a fine job you’ve done it seems but I’m afraid I have to ask anyway, you know I wouldn’t but…”

“What is it Bail?” You asked him softly, seeing the fear he was trying to hide.

“It’s Leia.” Was all Bail said and it was enough for Obi-Wan to gesture to the house, all of you sitting around the small dining table as you sent a pouting Luke off to play in his room.

“You’ll be safe, won’t you?” You asked Obi-Wan, Bail had left not too long ago after Obi-Wan agreed to go and find Leia.

“There is no need to worry, my love, I will get the girl and be back home before you know it.” Obi-Wan assured, pulling you into his arms and letting his lips linger against your forehead.

“I wish I could come with you.” You sighed and Obi-Wan chuckled softly as he looked down at you.

“I’d rather you were here where I know you’re safe. Besides, somebody needs to watch over Luke.” Obi-Wan told you, grinning at the huff you let out.

“Yeah, yeah Kenobi, you go on your little adventure and I'll stay home and watch the kid pout about not being able to fly around the galaxy with his Uncle.” You grumbled with no real heat behind it, unable to stop a smile tugging at your lips as Obi-Wan laughed before pulling you into a kiss.

Luke had refused to say goodbye to Obi-Wan, instead he only glared at the ship as he watched it disappear from view before walking away, sitting a short distance from the house.

“I know you want to explore the galaxy but you know it’s not safe out there right now.” You told him and watched as he rolled his eyes.

Generally Luke was the sweetest child you’d ever met, so polite and well behaved but the one argument that always came up was Luke wanting to explore the galaxy. He had loved your ship for as long as you could remember, most days you could find him at the wheel, stirring it this way and that, or tinkering away on something that definitely hadn’t needed fixing before he started.

“You and Uncle Obi always say that!” He exclaimed and you felt your heart ache for him.

For years you had fought in the Clone Wars, for years you had battled Separatists and Sith and it was all for them, for the kids like Luke who would get to grow up only knowing the new galaxy you had fought for and not the one plagued with darkness.

Of course all that fighting had amounted to nothing, all the lives lost and hearts shattered, the thinking you were so close to victory only to have it snatched out of your grasp by a plot put together before the war had even began.

“I know we do,” you told him quietly, thoughts so far away on a life that felt like it had been lived a million years ago. “Luke I wish you could, I really do, we wanted the galaxy to be safe but it’s not, I’m sorry.”

“We can make it better!” Luke declared and you laughed even as your vision became blurred with tears, Maker you were tired.

There was no better, how could there be with the Jedi gone and only darkness left. You had given everything you had and it had ended with you at the end of blasters held by men you cared so deeply for. You were tired, the war had taken so much from everyone, you weren’t sure you could do it again.

“You’re growing up too fast.” You told him, reaching over to ruffle his hair and feeling lighter when he laughed but didn’t push you away.

“One day I’m gonna grow up and be the best pilot in the whole galaxy!” Luke told you and you desperately tried to blink away the sting of more tears because you had known the best pilot in the whole galaxy and you had no doubt that had things been different him and Luke would have made one hell of a team.

You didn’t say anything though, just pulled Luke into your arms and this time Luke didn’t fuss like he usually did, telling you he was too old to sit in your lap anymore. The kid was so aware of everyone else’s emotions all the time and seemed to know you just needed to hold him tight against you for a moment.

“He’s alive?” You exclaimed, days had passed and Luke had long since gone to bed by the time you heard the ship land. “Wait, is that why Leia was taken, does he know about them? Are they safe?”

“He doesn’t know, he has no idea who Leia is to him and he certainly has no idea that Luke exists.” Obi-Wan told you calmly after telling you what had happened on his mission to rescue and return Leia. “Nobody is going to hurt him.”

“Force, I can’t believe he’s alive.” You said, sitting down next to Obi-Wan, the man not hesitating to pull you into him after so long apart. “And you’re sure it’s safe for us to stay here?”

“I promise, if I didn’t think it was, I would move us immediately.” Obi-Wan assured you, kissing the top of your head as you let out a shaky breath, nodding against his chest as you let yourself calm down after hearing his story.

“How is Leia?” You asked after a few moments of silence, turning up to look at him and watching as a soft smile pulled at his lips.

“She is quite possibly the bravest little girl I’ve ever met. Considering she has no idea who her biological parents are she is so much like both of them, a stubborn, passionate, kind hearted little thing, ready to take on the galaxy.”

“She sounds like a certain little boy I know who’s been missing his Uncle.” You smiled up at him, “Luke thinks there’s hope for the galaxy, that it can be made better.”

“It seems such an impossible thought, doesn’t it?” Obi-Wan murmured and you nodded again, your fingers playing with his. “It can’t stay like this forever though.”

“I’m not so sure I could handle another war, even then we had the numbers only because of the clones, now what is there? A few people willing to rebel, I wish them all the luck in the galaxy but we tried once.” You sighed, the war seemed a lifetime ago and yet you could still remember how drained you were by the end of it.

“Sometimes a few rebels is all the galaxy needs, maybe not to win the war but to light the spark in others.” Obi-Wan told you, you humming softly before leaning up to close the distance between you with a soft kiss.

“I’m glad you’re back home.” You whispered against his lips.

“Me too, my love.” Obi-Wan murmured before leaning back in to press his lips to yours.

More time passed and before you knew it Luke was so grown up, grown up and even more eager to get out into the galaxy. You and Obi-Wan knew it had only gotten worse, sure people had tried to fight against the Empire but nothing worked, the galaxy only got darker.

Unfortunately you knew you couldn’t keep Luke on Tatooine forever, one day he would leave, the boy was too eager, too kind hearted to leave the galaxy as it was. He had so much fight and so much good in him, not only that but he was also strong in the Force. Obi-Wan and you had been teaching him the ways of the Jedi not too long after Obi-Wan had helped Leia, knowing the boy had already shown signs of being able to use the Force and wanting him to be trained in case something ever did happen, even if it did hurt to see Anakin’s old lightsaber again after so long.

Luke didn’t get the chance to argue again about going out into the galaxy, not when something new came along to drag you out of your safe space on Tatooine.

You and Obi-Wan had made a run into town, leaving Luke alone at the house, not that he stayed there of course. Once you and Obi-Wan left Luke found himself wandering around outside until he made his way onto the ship.

He had always felt at home on the ship you had brought with you, he dreamed of flying and though he loved his life on Tatooine with you and Obi-Wan he couldn’t help but want more. He had listened to the stories from both of you growing up, the tales from the war, the adventures you had had together. He wanted that, he knew he was meant for more.

He was startled out of his thoughts when he heard a crash near the house and he leaned forward in his seat to look out of the window, not seeing anything for a moment and then suddenly two droids came into view.

“Droids?” Luke murmured to himself, pulling himself off the seat and making his way off the ship, the droids spotting him immediately and the R2 unit zooming over to him whereas the other just mumbled to itself.

The R2 unit beeped at him and Luke frowned as he watched the unit crash into his legs.

“Whoa, hey there buddy, what’re you two doing so far out here?” Luke asked them both and the R2 beeped wildly at him again.

“You’ll have to forgive my small friend, he seems to think he’s on an important mission when really we barely escaped with our lives from the Empire.” The other droid told him and Luke’s eyes widened.

“The Empire? You know about the rebellion?” He asked with a grin on his face and the droid nodded.

“Of course, me and R2-D2 here are more than familiar with the rebellion.” The droid said, sounding as exasperated as a droid could.

“Yeah you two do look a bit banged up. You want me to patch you up, buddy?” He asked R2 and the droid beeped again like he was excited causing Luke to laugh. “Alright then, come up onto the ship, that’s where my Aunt keeps the tools.”

The three of them made their way onto the ship and Luke knew when you and Obi-Wan got back you were going to kill him but he couldn’t help it, he loved tinkering with the scraps you brought home from market, now he had the chance to patch up real droids, ones who knew about the rebellion no less.

“What did you say your name was?” Luke asked as he crouched down in front of R2 and got to work on him.

“Oh I didn’t sir but I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations.” C-3PO introduced himself as he settled against the wall and watched as Luke worked.

“Nice to meet you both, I’m Luke.” He smiled at them, grunting as he tried to get something that was jammed in R2 unstuck. “You’ve got something jammed good in there buddy, let me just-”

Luke was cut out as he was shocked by the R2 unit before a holo started playing, Luke looking towards the girl as her voice filled the ship.

“Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.” The girl pleaded and Luke frowned as he turned to the droids.

“What’s this?” He asked as the holo continued to play. “Who is that girl, why is she asking for help?”

His frown deepened as both of the droids shrugged it off as old footage, he couldn’t help but think they were lying to him. He didn’t know what reason they’d have to lie but two droids suddenly appearing and looking for Obi-Wan was strange.

“R2 says it is a private message for Obi-Wan Kenobi, he refuses to tell you anything unfortunately, sir.” C-3PO finally said after talking with R2 and Luke frowned before his face lit up.

“If you’re looking for Obi-Wan Kenobi I can take you right to him!” Luke said as he stood up.

“You know Obi-Wan Kenobi, sir?” C-3PO asked and Luke nodded excitedly, gesturing for the droids to follow him.

“Of course, Obi-Wan is my uncle, him and my aunt should still be in town, I can take you to him!” Luke grinned and the three of them made their way towards the town. It was a fair trek away from their house but it didn’t take awfully long to get there.

He had been to the town only a few times and each time he went he was never allowed to wander off despite being so curious about everything. This was the first time in his whole life he’d been by himself and he knew once the two of you saw him he’d be done for.

It was worth it though, the small thrill running through Luke, his first adventure!

It took some searching but eventually he found you and Obi-Wan, you were sitting together on a bench some distance away from everyone else and the second R2 saw you he shot off like a rocket, leaving Luke to chase after him with a yell and C-3PO to sigh to himself.

Your eyes widened as you looked over Obi-Wan’s shoulder, gasping at the R2 unit barrelling towards you. You were off your seat before Obi-Wan had noticed the droid and crouching down just in time for R2 to crash into you causing you to laugh.

“R2, is it really you?” You asked and the droid let out a series of excited beeps. “Force, what are you doing all the way out here?”

“Luke?” Obi-Wan asked and your head snapped up to see a sheepish looking Luke, C-3PO showing up behind him a second later. “3PO?”

“You know these droids?” Luke asked and you taped R2 once more before standing up and glaring at Luke.

“The question is how do you know these droids and what in the stars are you doing out here alone?” You asked him with a glare causing him to look down at his feet, kicking at the sand.

“They were looking for Uncle Obi-Wan!” Luke defended himself, “They have a message, a girl is in trouble, she needs your help!”

You and Obi-Wan shared a look, a girl needing his help, there was only one person in the whole galaxy who fit that description, young Leia Organa.

“Let us get back to the house, it isn’t safe to talk out here.” Obi-Wan murmured and you nodded in agreement, starting the walk back home, wondering what trouble had managed to find Leia this time.

“General Kenobi, years ago you served my father in the Clone Wars. Now he begs you to help him in his struggle against the Empire. I regret that I am unable to present my father’s request in person. But my ship has fallen under attack and I’m afraid my mission to bring you to Alderaan has failed. I have placed information vital to the survival of the Rebellion into the memory systems of this R2 unit. My father will know how to retrieve it. You must see this droid safely delivered to him on Alderaan. This is our most desperate hour. You once told me I would see you again if I ever needed help, this is the time. Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope.”

You and Obi-Wan were silent as the message finished, sharing a look between you, Obi-Wan standing and gesturing for you to follow him. When Luke went to follow you gave him a pointed look and the boy sat right back down again.

“What is Bail up to?” You asked and Obi-Wan could only shrug though he wouldn’t be surprised if his old friend was part of the new Rebellion. “We have to get that droid to Alderaan.”

“We’d need to bring Luke, we cannot leave him here alone.” Obi-Wan said, causing you to scrunch your nose in displeasure. “He will be fine, the boy is strong with the Force, one of the strongest I have seen.”

“Just because you’re right doesn’t mean I have to like it.” You mumbled causing Obi-Wan to chuckle and pull you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I know, my dear, believe me I want nothing more than for Luke to stay here, to never know the cruelness of the world beyond this place but unfortunately, despite our best wishes, the boy has grown up.” Obi-Wan told you and you couldn’t stop the stinging in your eyes. “He’ll be fine, we raised him well.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you can feel it too, I know you can, something big is coming. He shouldn’t be near it.”

“That boy knows he is made for something bigger than Tatooine, one day he may choose to fight and he will be a worthy Jedi. All we can do is give him the tools and guidance he needs to stay safe.” Obi-Wan said as he pulled you closer to him, smiling softly as you gripped his robe.

“We need a way off Tatooine, the ship is fine for small journeys but it’ll never get us to Alderaan in one piece.” You told Obi-Wan after pulling away and taking a shaky breath.

“We’ll fly it to Mos Eisley, leave the rest to me, my love.”

It only took a few mind tricks to get past the troopers, tricks that seemed to impress Luke, of course he’d been taught about the Force and what it was capable of but he had never actually seen anything like that.

Taking Luke into the seedy cantina was the last thing you wanted to do but Obi-Wan seemed certain you’d find your pilot in there. As you entered Obi-Wan moved away and began talking to somebody, out of the corner of your eye you saw Luke looking around in wonder before he went to move away, only stopped by you grabbing his arm.

“You stay with me, I’m still not thrilled you’re coming along but if you are you’ll do as I say.” You told him sternly, having Luke so far away from home had your nerves on edge, that mixed with the shift in the Force had anxiety running through you.

You couldn’t do anything about whatever was happening with the Force but you could protect Luke and that you would do with your life.

“Come on, Aunt Y/N, I’ll be fine!” Luke whined but didn’t try and pull away from you, moments letting stepping closer when a creature with four arms grunted at him causing you to snort.

As you walked further into the bar Luke got closer and closer to you until he was pressed against your side, his arm wrapped around yours like he had done when he was much younger. You couldn’t help but smile despite the situation and squeezed his hand before giving him a reassuring smile as Obi-Wan gestured you over, telling you about a captain who could potentially get you to Alderaan.

“Han Solo.” The man introduced himself as he sat next to the Wookiee. You glanced at Luke and elbowed his side when you saw him staring too openly at the creature causing him to pout at you. “I’m captain of the Millennium Falcon.”

You listened to him as he talked his ship up, Luke hanging onto the captain’s every word and you almost felt sorry for the man if he agreed to take you, knowing Luke would already have a million and one questions for him.

“Ten thousand, all in advance.” The captain told you and you watched as Luke gasped, rolling your eyes as you looked towards Obi-Wan.

“We could buy our own ship for those credits!” Luke exclaimed as he turned to you and Obi-Wan before snapping his attention back to Han.

“And who’s gonna fly it, kid? You?”

“I could! I’m an excellent pilot!” Luke declared, your gaze still on Obi-Wan, full of amusement as he looked at you in exasperation.

“Luke, why don’t we let your uncle do the talking?” You said softly, ignoring the wide eyes and pout that was sent your way. “Remember what I said.”

“Obi-Wan, where in the Force are you getting fifteen thousand credits?” You asked after the deal was struck and you had put enough distance between you and anyone listening.

“Bail wants the droid, I’m sure he won’t mind paying the captain who delivered it.” Obi-Wan told you with a grin.

“You’re sticking Bail with a fifteen thousand credit bill?” You laughed as you nudged him, causing Obi-Wan to laugh.

From then on it hadn’t taken long at all to sell your ship for the advance payment and before you knew it you were meeting up with the Wookiee and making your way to the Falcon, though once you arrived you had a bad feeling upon seeing it, wholeheartedly agreeing with Luke that it looked like a heap of junk.

“So much for no Imperials.” You muttered to yourself as you heard blaster shots and looked out of the window in time to see a swarm of them surrounding you but thankfully between the Wookiee and the captain were able to get you off Tatooine and into hyperspace.

Once you were in hyperspace you smiled as Obi-Wan tested Luke’s work with his lightsaber, knowing that something was bound to go wrong on this mission and wanting Luke to be as prepared as possible. Your smile didn’t last long though, if you thought something was happening with the Force before it was nothing compared to the sudden pain and terror you felt, gasping as you leaned back in your seat and watching Obi-Wan sit down.

“Something terrible has happened.” You heard Obi-Wan say and that was putting it lightly, you managed to push yourself to your feet before sitting down next to him, Obi-Wan’s arm wrapping around you and pulling you close as you buried yourself against his chest.

You stayed quiet for the rest of the trip, reaching out into the Force and trying to feel something but it just felt empty. Whilst Obi-Wan distracted himself with Luke, you followed Chewbacca and Han into the cockpit as he announced you were coming out of hyperspace.

You were glad for Obi-Wan following in not too long after, wrapping an arm around you and holding you against his chest as you staggered back once the captain announced you’d arrived but Alderaan was gone.

Everyone around you spoke but you were frozen, staring ahead at the destruction before you as Han flew through it, frowning at the space station that came into view.

“I have a very bad feeling about this.” Luke said and you moved away from Obi-Wan to pull Luke against you, the young man not pushing you away and instead leaning into your hold.

The fear in Luke's voice when Han announced you were caught in the tractor beam turned you cold as he turned to cling to you and you hated that he was on this ship at all, you knew nothing good could have come from it and now, if anything happened to Luke you’d never forgive yourself.

You almost gasped as you felt something in the Force, Obi-Wan turning to look at you and you knew you weren’t imagining it, you knew he had felt it too. You knew what had become of Anakin but to see his destruction, to see how far he had fallen first hand was different to hearing the stories.

You didn’t have time to think for too long though, the captain grabbing your arm whilst the Wookiee took Luke’s and they led you down to hide under the compartments. You waited until it was all clear and let Luke pull you up, him taking his spot pressed against you again.

You let Han and Chewbacca take care of the troopers outside of the ship before following them into the command centre, letting R2 find his way around and sitting against one of the crates in the room.

Anakin, no Vader had done this, he had been a part of the destruction of Alderaan. Your gaze shifted to Luke, your heart aching even more as you saw the fear he tried to hide, then you moved to look at Obi-Wan.

He looked like he’d aged so much since leaving Tatooine and you were sure you looked the same, you felt the same at least. After everything you’d lost there weren’t too many people you had left in the galaxy to trust and now Bail was gone, him and Breha and the rest of Alderaan wiped out and for what?

You knew Anakin was gone but you had to believe some part of him was in there, buried deep down. Surely he was tired of the fighting and the wars. Hadn’t you all had enough of it to last a lifetime?

Obi-Wan’s gaze found yours and he smiled though it was strained, you forced yourself to smile back though, forced yourself to push your feelings into the Force and focus on getting Luke out of here alive.

You listened as C-3PO told you that the ship could leave so long as one of the terminals lost its power and Obi-Wan looked at you, raising an eyebrow and you nodded.

“You boys can’t help, me and Y/N will deal with this alone.” Obi-Wan told them and you ignored Han in favour of turning to Luke.

“Y/N, don’t go.” Luke pleaded as he clung to your robes before you even had the chance to speak, him already getting teary eyed and you forced yourself to smile again, to use all your Jedi training to hide your emotions and project a calm you didn’t feel.

“You’ll be fine.” You told him, smoothing his hair from his face and bringing him close enough so you could press a kiss to his forehead. “If anything happens you know what to do, you are strong with the Force, trust in it and trust yourself.”

“Please don’t go, at least let me come with you.” Luke begged, a tear slipping down his cheek.

“Come on, none of that now. Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise. I don’t care how grown up you get on me, I’m not going to let anything happen to you, you will get off this space station.” You promised him, cupping his cheek and wiping away the few more tears that slipped down.

“Uncle Obi-Wan, I wanna go with you two.” He turned to the other man causing you to laugh softly and Obi-Wan squeezed his upper arm.

“You stay here, stay with the droids. They are of top priority and must be delivered safely. Now listen to your Aunt.” Obi-Wan said softly, forcing his own smile on his face before Luke nodded, seeing he was fighting a losing battle.

“The Force will be with you, always.” Obi-Wan told him before gesturing for you to follow him and you went with one last glance towards Luke, mouthing an ‘I love you’ to him and finding your smile wasn’t as forced when he whispered it back.

You and Obi-Wan kept silent as you made your way through the base, it was almost embarrassing how easy it was to move around unnoticed with so many troopers and imperial officers on board, Obi-Wan clearly thinking the same as he smirked at you when you snuck past another large group of stormtroopers.

“You can feel him too, can’t you?” You whispered as you and Obi-Wan pressed against each other to avoid another group. “Even with the darkness surrounding him, you can feel him, right?”

“Yes my dear, it is Darth, no doubt about it.” Obi-Wan told you with a heaviness in his tone and you reached up to cup his cheek, feeling him smile faintly. “How twisted the Dark side within him has become.”

“You’re not just going to disable the power, are you?” You asked him and watched as his face darkened, not giving you an answer out loud but he didn’t need to, he never had to, you knew him better than anyone in the whole galaxy. “Whatever plan you had to get rid of me, to distract me whilst you snuck away, change it right now because you are not doing this alone.”

Obi-Wan went to open his mouth but he could see he wasn’t winning this argument so let it fall closed and instead leaned down to kiss you, both of you holding each other close and savouring the feeling.

“I love you, Obi-Wan.” You whispered against his lips, feeling the way his breath hitched being so close to him.

“I love you too, my dear one, more than you could ever know.” Obi-Wan murmured back, placing one more kiss to your lips before pulling away and you continued on your way.

The two of you made quick work of shutting down the power to the tractor beams so the Falcon would be able to take off and it was easy to sneak past the troopers keeping watch once it was done.

You followed behind Obi-Wan, pausing when he gestured for you to wait as he went ahead, scouting the next room and walking into it. You frowned as he failed to give you the all clear after a few seconds and looked up and down the hallway before moving across.

“No!” You exclaimed as the door slid shut before you could enter the room, locks sliding into place, your fists banging against it doing nothing. “Obi-Wan!”

From behind the glass you could see Vader already in the room, cloaked and masked with his red lightsaber lit, an imposing figure that should strike fear but instead your heart just ached painfully.

“Obi-Wan, open this door!” You yelled and he turned around to give you an apologetic look before facing Vader, lighting his own lightsaber.

You couldn’t hear what they were saying but you winced every time their lightsabers smashed into each other. Pushing yourself away from the door you raised a hand and drew all your strength from the Force and yet the blasted door still wouldn’t open.

You never took your gaze off the two of them, eyes locked onto Obi-Wan the whole time as you watched them battle each other, tears streaming down your face as you pleaded with the Force to just open the door, desperate to get through to Obi-Wan.

You watched as Obi-Wan paused, still holding Vader off but turning to see something you couldn’t before you felt a shift in the Force again, this time instead of fear it was peace spreading through it and you felt your heart beating wildly as you shook your head calling Obi-Wan’s name as sobs wracked your body.

“No!” You called as watched him put his lightsaber down and Vader didn’t miss a beat as he swung for Obi-Wan, the man you had loved for years, for your whole life, fell to the floor before you, gone in the blink of an eye, leaving nothing but a lightsaber and his cloak behind.

As he disappeared the door flew open and you stumbled into the room, falling onto your knees as you sobbed into his cloak.

“Still so loyal to Obi-Wan?” Vader asked, he knew he had recognized more than just Obi-Wan on the space station but hadn’t been sure. “Pathetic.”

You looked up at Vader and it was Vader, there was no more mistaking him for Anakin, not anymore. The Anakin Skywalker you had known would have died before killing Obi-Wan.

Vader lifted his lightsaber again, ready to strike you down as he had Obi-Wan. There was a moment, it was only a moment that lasted no longer than a second, where you had to make a choice.

It wasn’t a hard choice, a thought you had had so many years ago back when you were young and exhausted hit you, a world without Obi-Wan Kenobi was not a world you ever wanted to be in. Even in just these few seconds it had been since Vader had killed him the galaxy felt emptier immediately, it felt like a part of you had been ripped out, an aching hole in you that would never be mended.

You had never lived in a galaxy without Obi-Wan and you didn’t plan on doing so now.

You were old and you had lived a full life, more than a full life. You had been a Jedi Master, you had fought wars and commanded armies, you had settled down with the love of your life and got to spend every day at his side, raising a child who was yours in every way but blood, a child you loved more deeply than you thought possible.

It had been a good life, tiring but filled with so much love, even before the Order fell and it was an emotion that Jedi weren’t supposed to feel. You loved the men under your command, spending years at their sides and becoming closer than friends, becoming a family as you fought together on the front lines, earning their respect by standing with them. You had loved Anakin dearly, helping Obi-Wan navigate his new life of suddenly having a Padawan and taking Anakin under your wing when Obi-Wan’s grief over the loss of Qui-Gon was too much and he needed to be alone. You loved Padmé and Bail, dear friends and two of the few people you trusted more than anyone. Mostly you had loved Obi-Wan, long before you had even truly known what that had meant.

It was a good life, a long life and you knew it was done there. You hoped one day Anakin would find his way back, that he would find a way to rid himself of such darkness but there was nothing you could do to help him, not now.

You were tired and you were at peace, ready to join Obi-Wan, sure he was waiting for you on the other side for whatever grand adventure awaited the two of you next and as you turned your head you saw Luke watching you, the boy crying but he wasn’t alone, his sister had her arms around him and you managed to mouth a final ‘I love you’, managed to see Luke choke out the same three words before Vader’s lightsaber struck you too.

Obi-Wan Kenobi Taglist (Click the link in my bio to add yourself!) -

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Thank you so much for reading!💜

[lacontroller1991]

Boxes of Dye and Boxes of Tea (Obi-Wan Kenobi x F!Reader)

Main Master List || Star Wars Master List

Warnings: Obi-Wan being jealous, Obi-Wan being insecure (but not for long), one sexual comment (18+ please), slight age gap (reader is of legal age)

Word Count: 1.2k

Author's Note: I switch between POVs a lot in this, each POV switch is noted by a series of dashes. Anywho, enjoy!

==========

One of the defining rules of the Jedi Code is to be humble. Humble about your life, your wardrobe, your attitude and your appearance. It is also one of the defining rules of the Jedi Code to not form romantic attachments to anyone, let alone someone in the order and Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi? He broke both. It’s not like he could control who he loves, after all, underneath the worn armor, robes, and tunics, he is human. And with being human comes human emotions like lust, love, jealousy, insecurities. 

Despite being trained in the ways of suppressing his emotions so as to not let them cloud his judgment, nothing could have trained him for the day that he sees you; his secret, younger, lover with a male about half his age. Normally, it doesn’t bother Obi-Wan who you talk to because he’s not normally a jealous guy, but after one snide comment from Anakin about the gray in his hair, it has Obi-Wan questioning everything, and seeing you talking with someone half his age? Well, Obi-Wan can’t help but to feel jealous and insecure.

Turning on his heel rapidly, Obi-Wan narrowly dodges your line of sight and rushes down the numerous halls towards his chambers as doubt clouds his mind. Would you leave him for that guy? Is he too old for you? Do you need someone more youthful to keep up with you? The questions storm in his mind as he looks over his appearance. He’s still in great shape, but he does note that he looks more exhausted than normal and his hair is starting to show his years of… wisdom. Sighing in annoyance, Obi-Wan frowns at his appearance. Just how can you find him attractive? Picking up a book, he tries to focus on the words but to no avail.

With a pep in your step, you all but skip towards Obi-Wan’s quarters, a present in your hand. After meeting up with your friend who grows tea leaves, you finally collected a large enough tea collection that will hopefully last Obi-Wan’s next upcoming mission.

Knocking on the door, you quickly hide the present under your robe and put a smile on your face as the door slides open, revealing a somber Obi-Wan with wet hair, causing your smile to turn into a frown of concern. “Obi? What’s wrong?”

—---------

Hearing the knock of his door, Obi-Wan cringes slightly knowing that it’s you on the other side. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see you, it’s more of the fact that he doesn’t want to be seen by you, but still, he heads toward the door and opens it, revealing you standing there with a smile on your face that quickly turns into a frown. “Obi? What’s wrong?” Sighing, he backs away from the door as you hesitantly walk into his room, closing the door behind you, not really sure how to handle the man in front of you. “Did the Council say something? Are you going on a mission sooner than we thought?”

“No, little one. It’s nothing. I’ve just been a bit lost in my head today, that’s all.” Seeming to not buy his excuse, he watches as you sit yourself down on his bed, arms still clasped together in your robe. 

“You can’t fool me, Obi. What’s really going on?” Normally, your forthrightness is admirable, but now, he’s seriously disliking it.

—-------

“I’ve just been feeling a little…. insecure, I guess.” You quirk up an eyebrow as you look around his room, trying to find something, anything that will give you a clue and then you spot it just lightly poking out of the trashcan in his refresher. It’s hardly noticeable, but you’re a female, you know what a box of hair dye looks like. Looking back over your lover, you notice that only two spots are freshly dyed, given with how unblended they are. The spots right above his ears. The spots where gray streaks begin. It suddenly clicks in your mind. 

Without revealing the present, you remove your cloak from your body and move to stand in front of him. “Why are you dying your hair?”

—-------

Obi-Wan lets out a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, but you remain still, trying to comprehend. Letting out a sigh, Obi-Wan’s hands reach up for your hips and drag you into him while your hands move to his scalp, lightly running careful fingertips through his damp locks as he loses himself in the feeling. “Anakin pointed out that my hair is getting more gray and that I’m looking older and I guess I just wanted to remain youthful for you.” He’s embarrassed to admit it in fear that you’ll laugh at him, but instead, he feels a feather soft kiss against the crown of his damp head.

“Oh Obi-Wan, my handsome, handsome man, please don’t change your looks for me. I don’t care what you look like. I love you for you. I love your humor, your wisdom, your sarcasm, your penchant for tea, the way you call me ‘darling’ or ‘my love’,  and the way you hold me in your arms at night. I love you as a lover and I admire you as a Jedi. Besides, obviously you’re going to age slightly. You’re fighting in a war and not to mention, I’m sure training Anakin definitely wasn’t stress free, so I really wouldn’t worry about a couple of pieces of hair.” Obi-Wan smiles softly at your words as you continue to roam your hands throughout his hair, lighting scratching his scalp.

“You’re right darling. I guess it came over me because I saw you with that one guy in the hall, who happens to be your age.”

“Who, Sid? He was only giving me something that I asked for,” Obi-Wan watches as you move your robe to the side and reveal a wrapped box. Turning around, you hand the box to Obi-Wan as you take a seat next to him. “Go ahead and open it.”

“Darling, you shouldn’t have.” Obi-Wan has told you numerous times to not get him any sort of gifts, but you, ever being thoughtful, never listens. Tearing the paper off, he looks down at the box before removing the lid and spotting a variety of tea bags, and a lot of them. “Tea?”

“Yeah, I spent some time collecting a variety and Sid had the last ones I was looking for. I figured that I could make you something before your next mission and hopefully it’ll last.”

“This is so kind of you.” He sets the box to the side and brings you in for a hug, feeling foolish about overreacting to something that he didn’t know.

“Anything for you, my love. And you wanna know something?” He pulls away and makes eye contact with you, a mischievous grin gracing your lips.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re going to say something inappropriate?”

“Because you know me so well,” you lean forward, your hands sliding up his thighs ever so slightly. “I really, really love your hair the way it is. I especially love tugging onto it while we make sweet sweet love.” And if Obi-Wan wasn’t flustered before, he definitely is now.

=fin=

General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @a-reader-and-a-writer @fairchildflag @tavners

[happy-beeeps]

for the prompt list you just reblogged, what about "i didn't sign up for this" with either obi-wan kenobi or the bad batcher of your choice?

I’m on the run (with you my sweet love)

Pairing: obi-wan x reader

WC: 1.2k

Summary: after hearing that obi-wan is living in exile, you do your best to find him, determined to live out your lives together as you’d dreamed.

Suggested listening: Chemtrails over the country club by Lana Del Rey

A/N: IM SO BAD AT ANSWERING OH MY GOD. Thank you for the request I’m so excited!!! tbh, I struggled with this so hard because I physically cannot give Obi-Wan an angsty situation but we made it work hehehe. Obi-Wan is both my fav Star Wars man (which surprises people sometimes) and one of the characters I write the least, so this was SO fun! Sorry it’s so short, but I plan on writing much more for him soon!❤️🫶🥰

The house was small, really just a small kitchenette and living space with a bed nook off to the side. Like all houses in the dune sea, it was low in the ground, slatted windows up high on the walls to offer light with as little heat as possible. You wouldn’t call it nice by any means, not compared to what you’ve lived in before, but it had a certain coziness that had excited you. You had flushed out your credits just as soon as Bail had told you of Obi-Wan’s exile, and gotten yourself on the first ship to Mos Eisley that you could. The house had been easy enough to find, there were plenty of people in Mos Eisley eager to sell property to someone, particularly when that someone came with a sack of credits.

The hard part was finding Obi-Wan.

You spent the morning in the center of Mos Eisley, gathering supplies and what small furnishings you could transport for your new home, listening intently for anything. Any word of a newcomer, any whispers of the fall of the Jedi. Unfortunately (or fortunately) no one said anything.

Beru and Owen were the obvious next choice, and they came with much greater information than you had anticipated. You hadn’t met Anakin’s brother and sister-in-law before, but you had seen holos of them during your nights in with Padmé. Owen had been… reluctant to talk to you, but Beru had quickly pointed you in the direction of the cave Obi-Wan had been hiding out in the past few rotations, not terribly far from your home or the Larrs homestead.

Which is how you found yourself here, at the mouth of a cave, a fabric shawl draped carefully over your shoulders to protect as much of you as possible from the blazing Tatooine suns.

It was easy to walk into, and the dark walls and open space gave the whole space a chill in the air that hung itself uncomfortably around your shoulders. He wasn’t here, but there were signs of him present. A rucksack with some rations and credits, his robes and tunic–carefully folded in a pile resting on a large stone, and a small lamp. You ran your hands down the soft fabric of the robe, before picking it up and bringing it close to you. It smelled just like him, and for the first moment in what felt like a millenia, you let yourself ache in your chest. You had missed him something awful, worried something awful. When Padmé had explained what had happened, what he would have to do, you had feared the worst.

When none of them came back, you had all but accepted it.

“Don’t move.”

The voice that came from the cave mouth was cold and cautious, strong and intimidating. It was also home.

“Ben,” you whispered, using the nickname you had given him some night who knows how many moons ago, hoping to show him you were you. You were here.

You removed the shawl slowly as he stepped out of the mouth of the cave, his form no longer silhouetted against the blinding sun. His hair was looking slightly ragged, the tunic he wore now hung awkwardly on his frame–it must’ve been a loan from Owen you decided.

“Is it really you?” he asked, walking up to you cautiously, moving slowly as if you were made of mist that would simply vanish if he got too close. The sun had already begun to bring out even more freckles across his skin, growing ruddy with exposure.

“I’m here to take you home with me,” you murmured, closing the gap between the two of you and pulling him close to you, one hand cradling the back of his head while he pressed soft kisses into the crook of your neck.

“You can’t, I have to stay here. I can’t return to Coruscant with you.”

You pulled back for a moment, brushing the hair away from his face, “who said anything about Coruscant?” Before he could answer, you pressed your lips to his, capturing him in a kiss meant to soothe yourself and reassure him. He was alive. You were here. The rest you could figure out together.

* * *

You hadn’t said much on the walk back to your home, hadn’t been able to. Obi-Wan refused to let go of you, his hand lingering on a spot on your body at any moment. It was as if he was finally allowing himself these open, semi-public touches at last, though you knew the price of this freedom had been costly.

When you approached your home, you led him down to the living quarters and quickly worked at getting a small iced tea ready while he settled in. Well, attempted to settle.

“You bought this? Here?”

“You think I’d rent? In this economy?” You scoffed, and he gave you a lighthearted smile in return as you guided him towards the small sofa in the middle of the room. “I’ve only been here a few rotations, been looking for you,” you moved to settle beside him, knees clinking into one another with a familiarity you had been longing for. “You’re a hard man to find Master Kenobi.”

“I didn’t realize you’d be looking,” he reached over to place a hand on your cheek, steadying himself against you for a moment. It had taken you the better part of the afternoon to get from the cave to your home, and your living room was now painted in the orange and magenta hues of the setting suns, low light making him look even softer than you had imagined. “To be quite honest, I feared you’d assumed the worst.”

“Then you don’t know me at all.”

He pulled your head closer to him, bringing his forehead to yours in a sweet, intimate gesture. “I cannot put you in danger, I will not. You’re a senator, you cannot give up your life for me. You didn’t sign up for this.”

“I’m more than just a senator you know,” you breathed, your eyes fluttering open to look into his while his breath hitched in his throat, “as per that night on Chandrila, I’m your wife. You think I don’t want to be here? That I didn’t sign up for this? I said "till death”, Kenobi, and I meant it.”

“I couldn’t contact you, I’ve had to close myself off to the Force since arriving. I’ve lost so much. I cannot lose you dearest.”

You moved closer to him to bridge the gap between your mouths again, breathing a simple, “you’ll never have to,” as you did. This time you kissed him with the fervor and passion of a woman coming home, and he drank you in like a man lost in a desert. Which, you suppose he was. Here was your Obi-Wan, your Ben, wrapped in your arms and in your home for as long as you’d like. You were free to press yourself against his freckled chest and trace the starlight colored scars across his skin. You could live in the serendipitous bliss of him, his smell of caf and leather and something woody, the kind way he carried himself.

It had cost you both everything, had cost the Republic, but at last you were free to be Obi-Wan Kenobi’s wife in more than just secrecy, your sanctuary guarded by the twin suns of Tatooine.

[macabre-mangled]

Love Like Wolves

OBI-WAN KENOBI X READER (gender neutral)

WARNINGS: canon typical violence and innuendos, insecurity (on readers end), brief mention of small age gap

SUMMARY: Obi-Wan assures you you're his despite it being secret

A/N: hot dilf. I also don't proofread my writing so deal with it lmao

Satine was gorgeous. You'd admit that. She also was so kind which made it hard when she was clearly showing interest in your lover. Obi-Wan wasn't flirting back by any means, but that didn't stop the hands of that ugly feeling to take hold of your brain. You of course masked it with the force, knowing that he could sense it otherwise. He could definitely tell something was wrong, but didn't have any idea what. You excused yourself to go and lick your wounds like a cowardly youngling. If Obi-wan was concerned he didn't voice it.

In our quarters you didn't find much peace either. in fact you had been pacing, your lightsaber clinking in its holster as you did. You know Obi-Wan would never be disloyal despite no one knowing about you two. He's not the type. However; it also means he can't publicly claim you. Maker, you sound so primitive. Is that really what we are in the end? Just like animals? Are you the same as a loth wolf? They mate for life. Does Obi view you as his life partner? All These thoughts swarmed your head like wasps. Obi was older than you, surely he's smart enough to not throw away a good thing. At least you hoped so.

"They're a good catch, Master Kenobi."

saltines eyes glittered as she spoke, A knowing glint in her eyes. Obi took notice and looked around in panic.

"Relax, I will not speak of it to anyone."

"If I may ask; how did you know?"

Obi-Wan didn't think he was THAT obvious. Or was he? Maker, he hopes not.

"The way you look at them. Its not obvious, but if someone knows where to look they can tell. Now, I will be taking my leave."

He watches Satine go. He surely hopes no one heard their conversation. Maker knows how much trouble he'd be in if the council found out. he wouldn't be able to take it if they took you from him. You're his light in the dark. He NEEDS you. Although now he's picking up on your distress. How did he not notice before? He starts off towards your quarters. He knows how you get. He just hopes you'll be in the mood to let him calm you down.

Upon his arrival he knocks twice then three times; the secret knock you two have. When you open the door he's greeted with your glare. Oh maker, what did he do? He doesn't recall doing anything. Your strained voice startles him out of his reverie.

"How's Satine? You two have fun making eyes at each other?"

Your tone gave away your emotions, something Jedi are not supposed to do. But right now you didn't care. Realization hit Obi-Wan's face.

"Darling, we weren't doing anything of that sort. Satine knows about us."

He calmly said in something just above a whisper as he slowly moved to cradle you in his arms. You let your shoulders fall. you knew this was ridiculous. Of course he wouldn't. You knew that, but maker that feeling took you by the horns. So you gathered all your courage to ask him the one question you had in the back of your mind.

"Do you see me as a life partner? Like would you marry me if you could?"

If he hadn't been right next to you he wouldn't have heard it. But he did and it made his heart ache how small you sounded. He knew you had insecurities, but never had he heard you sound so unsure. The answer was obvious he thought.

"Of course my darling, It's only you. We're bonded like loth wolves. Nothing or anyone will change that."

You snuggled closer to him at his words but his hand held you softly by the chin to look into his eyes. His eyes held an unspoken question and yours held the answer.

[221bshrlocked]

where it wasn’t

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Ben x Fem!Reader (post-Kenobi Series era)

Words: 18,763 (can you tell I’m unwell?)

Warnings: 18+ only. Angsty Smut. Mutual Pining/Porn with some plot. Touch-Starved Obi-Wan. Lots of Kissing. Some form of competency kink? Marking Kink (again idk). Dirty/Sweet Talk. Slight Choking. Overstimulation. Penetrative, Unprotected Sex. Slight Breeding Kink. Some tears here and there because Obi-Wan just needs a fucking hug. 

Summary: “I- I am most flattered by your a-admiration but-” Ben grunts when you accidentally graze one of his nipples, his mind instantly going into hyperdrive and making him lose his train of thoughts. “But I highly doubt this is the most impressive form you’ve ever come across.” His voice is strained, that you’re certain of, and you want to see how far you can take it with him before he can no longer hold back. You’re close to thinking against it, but as you continue to knead his tight muscles, you notice a dark blush creeping down his neck to his chest and decide to tease him just a little bit more.

A/N: Yes, it is a massage au. Yes, the trope is basic as fuck. Yes, this fic is just an excuse to write porn. Yes, it is very much a self-indulgent story because I deal with trauma by reading or writing angsty smut. No, I am not okay after this week’s episode. This is completely inspired by the scene in episode 4 though...you know, the bacta tank one. Please don’t judge me. Enjoy and please be kind in the comments. I have never written for our beloved General before. Also, this is not beta’d...

He should not be here, it was neither safe nor necessary. But the bit of him that longed for another’s touch, a stranger’s kindness if you will, forced him to come out of his shell and go out of his way to come here again. He would regret it later of course, and the guilt would last for weeks before he no longer felt traces of her touch on his skin. Only then would he reevaluate his decisions and come to the conclusion that perhaps it was not as selfish or as dangerous as he deemed it to be. 

An obnoxious string of laughter snaps him out of his haze, and he rubs his palms together to familiarize himself with the calmness he once walked hand-in-hand with. Pushing the hood higher upon his head, he crosses his arms together and approaches the dingy doors of the establishment he’s grown to seek out ever since he returned to Tatooine once more. A lump of anxiety forms in his dry throat all of a sudden and he barely manages to swallow it down as he enters the rather quiet building.

As soon as he steps past the threshold of the dimly lit entrance, he’s bombarded with a variety of scents, ones which he prayed to the Maker he would get to memorize again. He looks around as if this is his first time requesting the services the establishment offers, hoping that someone could put him out of his misery and recognize how difficult it was for him to come here. When he sees several others waiting to be led into one of the private rooms, he takes a deep breath and slowly moves towards one of the corners of the room. 

However, before he has a chance to muster up the courage to ask when the next available appointment is, he hears his name uttered softly from behind him. He reluctantly turns around and feels his chest collapse at the sight of you. The weeks may have taken a toll on him, but the absence of your eyes pushed him to grow more fond of you than the last time he was here. He parts his lips to say something but the words die in his throat when he allows his focus to trail down your form. Somehow, you looked more mesmerizing in the old fabrics hugging your body than anyone ever had the right to. He cannot remember the last time he was so starstruck by the mere presence of another, but as he stands here, looking at you as if you were the rarest of flowers on this desert planet, he can’t help himself from smiling at you and bowing his head. 

“I thought I would never see you again.” Your voice pulls him from the trance he’s under, and he walks towards you slowly, his hands remaining steadfast at his sides to remind himself that he cannot reach for you no matter how much he needs to. 

“I- I hate to admit this, dear one, but I did not think you would ever see me again either.” Were it not for the hesitation veiling his words, you would have grown more offended at the rather sudden and somewhat rude exclamation. Neither of you say anything for a few moments though, and it’s only when you smile and look at your feet that he finally takes those last few steps towards you. Ringing your fingers nervously, you clear your throat and turn your attention to his light blue ones again, wishing you could find some bit of honesty that would let you know he missed you as much as you missed him. 

“I see. Well, if you’re looking for someone else’s services, I will gladly recommend one or two that-” You try to change the subject but he cuts you off abruptly, and reaches out to rest his hand on your shoulder. 

“No, please no.” When he sees the way you flinch at the touch of his hand, the subtle smirk gracing his handsome features drops and turns into an even more beautiful pout. 

“My apologies, it was never my intention to make you uncomfortable.” It’s his turn to play with his hands to distract himself, and it takes you longer than necessary to put yourself together and not think of how large and firm his hand felt atop your skin. 

“You never make me uncomfortable, Ben. In fact, you’re the only client I have that makes me look forward to coming into work every day.” It’s a longshot, that you are certain of, but the slight widening of his eyes and the way his shoulders tense let you know that, although he didn’t expect you to be so forthright with him after such a long time of not seeing or speaking together, he wasn’t opposed to the true meaning behind your words. 

“You- you flatter me with your kind words.” He can’t bear to hold your gaze, afraid that if he looks for too long, you’d come to realize why he was so desperate to see you again. Some part of him longed to tell you how much cared for you ever since that first time you invited him into the parlor to ease his aches, but he knew there would be no going back once you were aware of the hidden thoughts and rather inappropriate dreams which plagued him for weeks on end. 

“Not at all. Flattering implies I don’t mean what I’m saying. I’m just being honest Ben, and- well, I hope you can see that because…” You trail off when you notice him actively avoiding your eyes, and as you’re about to apologize for being too forward, a rather impatient trandoshan struts by and bumps into you on his way out. You trip and fall right into Ben’s arms, but before you can turn around and give the customer a piece of your mind, you hear Ben grunt in pain as he readjusts his hold on your waist. 

“Oh Ben, you didn’t tell me you’re hurt!” You let go of him and step away, quickly trailing your eyes down his form to try and figure out where exactly he was wounded. He always wore those ripped, dirty clothes that hid him from prying eyes, and you wished he could finally be comfortable enough with you to allow you to give him a massage without his clothes. You got the sense early on that he was a man who relied on staying hidden, both physically and emotionally, so the idea of him stripping for you set your mind into overdrive. But as you stare at the pained expression on his tired features, you shake your thoughts away and reach for his hand. 

Ben finally dares to look at you, furrowed eyebrows slowly coming to rest easily when he sees the loving and patient look swimming in your eyes. A year ago, he would have snatched his hand away and stormed out of the city to the comfort of his cave. He would have refused to return to this side of the planet out of fear of seeing whomever dared to touch him so intimately. But as he stands there in the middle of your parlor, with the warmth of your skin engulfing him so sweetly and lovingly, he can’t bring himself to let go of you, not because you might be offended, but because he can’t stand not feeling you close to him any longer. 

“Ben, come with me. Please.” You wait until his shoulders sag in relief and acceptance before you pull him behind you and into the hallway. If anyone attempts to ask why he got priority over the others, you simply stare at them and narrow your eyes sternly to prevent them from thinking of breathing his way. As you lead Ben through the narrow and rather hot establishment, you feel a sense of unnerving peace wash over you. Here was a man that you knew, for certain, did not enjoy the company of others and yet followed you blindly and without question towards an unknown. Granted he came here a few times before, but you always led him to one of the more public rooms, knowing that he probably felt more comfortable seeing others being taken care of like him. 

You look back once and bite into your lower lip when you see the hazed look upon his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that his pupils were dilated simply from the mere touch of your fingers against his coarse skin. 

“Where are you taking me?” His voice, laced with a hint of anxious desperation, makes you stop in your tracks, and you turn around to face him immediately, knowing that he may have still felt uncomfortable at the prospect of being alone with you. 

“My room. It’s more private and…safe. I’m sorry, I- I should have asked you before I led you here. We can go back if you want.” You leave the sentiment open-ended, but you hope that he can see through the offer and notice how much you really didn’t want to be around anyone else but him.

“N-no. Perhaps it is better if you attend to me in more private quarters.” As soon as the words leave his lips, Ben catches onto the double-meaning in between the agreement, and he frantically shakes his head to make sure you didn’t think he expected anything more from you. 

“Relax, it’s only me.” You rub his wrist and smile at him before you continue down the hallway, and Ben rolls his eyes at his idiocy as you look forward and lead him to your room. He doesn’t know what to expect from the night, but he hopes that you muster up the courage to cross the invisible line he’s planted in the sand ever since he came to you because he knew well enough that he wouldn’t be able to move past it himself. 

When you finally reach your room, Ben squeezes your hand for a moment to remain grounded, his heart finally accepting to return to a normal heartbeat when you return the flex and keep your attention on him. He waits patiently as you push in the code to your doors, and when the heavy metal swishes open, he blinks slowly to remember his self-control before he steps into your room. 

Whatever he thought he would find in your private chambers is somehow similar and different from reality. The room is not as spacious as the others you’ve taken him to but it certainly holds many more things, the most surprising of which was a large bacta tank right below one of the windows. It’s also more homey than the others, which is not surprising to him considering you did let him know that this was your personal room and not one occupied by the others during the hours of the parlor. 

“Is it…pleasing to you?” Ben is surprised by the question, and he lets go of your hand to cross his arms and wander around the chambers. He notices a large bed at the opposite end of the room and regrets where his mind wanders to instantly. Ben is sure his beard is hiding a deep blush heating through his cheeks, and he clears his throat when he turns around and looks at you. He means to offer you a vague answer, but as soon as he takes in a deep breath and the natural scent of the room hits his senses, his heart skips a beat because-

Maker, if he thought your scent was maddening before, it was driving him crazy with lust and need for you now. 

“You will find that I will never disagree with anything your hands caressed.” 

It is far from the response he wanted to offer you, but the reaction he gets out of you from those simple words shoots straight to his cock and makes him clench his fists tightly to try and remain in control. He can see the visible shiver that courses through your body and the way your chest rises and falls rapidly at such a bold exclamation, and against his better judgment, Ben uncrosses his arms and approaches you with careful steps. 

“You f-flatter me Ben.” He can tell you’re embarrassed by the attention he’s freely showering you with all of a sudden, and the shy reaction makes it more difficult for him to keep himself in check, not because of how submissive he’s sure you would be willing to be for him, but because he wants, more than anything, to see that same expression etched on your beautiful features as you came undone around his cock and marked him as yours. 

“Never, little one. I only speak the truth.” Again, whereas he only wished to put you at ease, his body reacts of its own volition and Ben reaches to caress your cheek with his hand. If you’re surprised by the familiarity of the touch, you hide it quickly and choose to close your eyes to commit this moment to memory. 

“B-Ben,” it’s your turn to reach for him, but as soon as you place your hand atop his right shoulder, Ben flinches away and grabs for his side. The reaction is enough to bring you back to reality, and you remember why you brought him to your room in the first place. 

“Kriffing hell, are you trying to distract me on purpose?” You frown and move past him swiftly, not bothering to give him a chance to say anything as you prep the bacta tank. 

“This will not be necessary, I assure you I am-” Ben follows closely behind you to get you to calm down and face him, but you brush him aside and shake your head as the tank fills with water. As you wait for it to be ready, you clear your throat and turn to him again, gaze more stern than Ben ever thought you capable of. 

“I have never been overbearing with you Ben, and I think you can tell that it never bothered me to be quiet and patient with you. But I’m sorry I can’t be either of those things right now. You- you’re hurt and I am sure you neglected to take care of your wounds due to whatever sort of justification you thought up. So, please, if you ever valued our friendship, get in the tank. I can leave if you want some privacy, but just- maker, please let me take care of you.” You choose your words carefully and refuse to back down from Ben’s intense stare as he rubs his beard and visibly thinks over your proposition. He’s quiet for too long to your liking, but when he looks to the bacta tank behind you, he shakes his head and purses his lips tightly. 

“I…cannot afford this, darling. Surely you know that.” Had you not known him, you would have been offended by his words. You almost snap at him but when you notice the ear-to-ear smile breaking across his face, you barely hold back from returning the expression and instead narrow your eyes at him. 

“If you think me cruel enough to charge you for something so important, then I suggest you pack your things and leave…after you use the bacta tank of course.” You know he’s not buying your act one bit, and the idea that you’ve come to a point in your relationship with Ben where the two of you don’t mind teasing each other makes your stomach flutter with warmth. 

“I brought nothing with me except the clothes on my back sweetheart.” His words light a flame across your chest then, and you swallow the lump in your throat as you keep his gaze and notice the curious eyebrow he was aiming at you. Surely he wasn’t flirting with you…was he?

“L-like I said, I can give you privacy if you-” You step back and aimlessly point to a door beside you to let him know that you don’t mind leaving him alone. But Ben shakes his head and moves into your space, ignoring the shocked look on your face when he pushes a few strands of hair away from your eyes to take a better look at you. 

“You and I have known each other long enough, have we not? Unless it is you who wishes to leave, in which case, I will not force you to be here.” There is a hint of humor in his tone that makes you more flustered by the second and you don’t have the mind to form so much as a coherent thought to respond to him. Ben turns around and removes the longer robe covering his form, and it is only when he throws it gently on top of one of the chairs that he notices you not budging from your place. 

“You are not leaving then?” 

“It is my room…so no.” You hate how you trip over your words as you try to answer him, but from the looks of it, Ben doesn’t mind your embarrassed reaction one bit. In fact, he seems to have taken a liking to your more shy demeanor when he openly teases you. 

“Very well. Would you be so kind as to help me out of these robes then? The wound is…it’s severe and limits my movement. I’d hate to irritate it any further.” He points to his right shoulder and side all the while studying your body language to ensure your comfort. The last thing he wants is to push you too far and cause you to run away from him. Ben expects to stand in silence for a while, but when you rub your hands together and approach him, he allows himself to relax further into the intimate and warm space. 

“Sure, yes…I can do that. Just- just tell me if I make you uncomfortable. I’ll leave right away.” You reiterate once more as you lay your hands on top of his shoulders and rub the harsh fabric in between your fingers. Surely he didn’t remain in these robes all the time? His skin looked too soft to be covered with such coarse material, and before you dwell too long on how warm and inviting the skin of his clavicle felt beneath the tips of your fingers, Ben breaks the silence and rests his hands around your waist. He doesn’t try to pull you in closer, but he does squeeze you a little tightly as he returns your own words to you again. 

“Nothing you will do will ever cause me discomfort, little one.” 

“Oh.” It’s quite pathetic how easily Ben can cause your mental capabilities to decrease down to nothing, and you hope he doesn’t think less of you the longer the night stretches because you are sure you will melt into his arms if he so much as whispers a quick ‘thank you’ to you. 

“May I?” Even though he has just given you permission to help him undress, you ask him anyway, knowing that it is better to receive affirmation from him than to accidentally make him wish he never came to you tonight. 

“Please.” The way Ben pleads with you so willingly sends a ripple of lightning down your spine, and your breath hitches when you look up and see how focused he is on you. Knowing that things would only get more intense going forward, you sink your teeth into your lower lip and softly trail your hands down his chest to his stomach. You know you shouldn’t touch him more than necessary but seeing how open and almost inviting he seems to be with you now makes you tiptoe over that line of friendship a little. You say nothing as you rest your palms on top of his stomach, reminding yourself to breathe every couple of seconds when you notice Ben’s own body rising and falling beneath your touch. 

If Ben is affected by your actions, he does a very good job at hiding it, making you wish he was comfortable enough with you to show you how much your intimate and rather lewd caresses are affecting him. For a moment, you swear his chest ceases moving when you finger the buckle of the belt holding his tunic tightly to his torso, but it resumes to the slightest of movement again when you unbuckle it and wrap your hands around his back to remove it carefully without hurting him. 

As soon as you lean into his space, Ben forgets how to breathe, and he shuts his eyes tightly to refrain from closing his arms around you and smothering your lips with his own in a heated kiss. He can smell you much better now, and the flowery almost spicy scent of you is more potent than before. If he parts his lips now, he swears he can taste you on his tongue, but he chooses to keep them shut tightly to avoid any temptations. 

You don’t notice the struggle Ben lives through for those brief moments, too busy wanting to make him as calm and comfortable as possible within your space. There’s a mutual understanding between the two of you as you reach for the bottom of his brown shirt and slowly tug it across his body. Only then does Ben break your gaze, and you hope it isn’t because he’s growing self-conscious in your presence. Your thoughts are answered in an instant when he chuckles embarrassingly and breaks the deep silence that befell you. 

“I am afraid I may smell unpleasant to you. Forgive me, dear one. I cannot always afford bathwater where I live.” 

The sad, broken tone of his voice wraps around your heart and clenches it painfully, making you wish you had the right to ask him to come and bathe here whenever he likes. But you know that he might misunderstand your kindness for something else, and you opt to shaking your head and continuing to raise the shirt until he could slip his left arm from its confines. 

“It may be unpleasant to others, but your scent reminds me of…tenderness, compassion even.” You’re only speaking the truth to him but the honest sentiment must be too much for Ben because he lets out a shaky breath as soon as he wraps his mind around the words you just uttered. As much as you want to continue, you decide to keep quiet again, mostly because you are sure the sight of his skin will make you lose all coherent thought. 

As you expected, your mind unravels haphazardly when you catch sight of the firm yet soft skin of his waist and stomach. Taking advantage of the few seconds of blindness as you remove his shirt from around his neck, you meditate on the trail of hair adorning his navel and hiding beneath his pants before you remember your mission and snap your attention back to his face. Ben looks to the side as soon as he is free of the shirt, and you mentally slap yourself for whatever shameless expression he may have written on your features as you tried to rid him of  his clothes. 

Right, his wounded right side. Focus on his wounded side and shoulder. 

“Don’t try to raise your hand with me, I’ll do this slowly.” Ben doesn’t bother to offer you any response, and you get the sense that it might be because he is not used to showing so much skin to another being. As carefully as possible, you drag the tunic down his shoulder a few inches only to stop and gasp when you catch sight of the scarred flesh of his muscles. 

“Oh sweetheart, what happened to you?” You don’t realize what you say until you meet Ben’s eyes and see the heartbroken look taking over his soul. The term of endearment must be a bit too much for him because in a matter of seconds, his blue orbs are a sea of unshed tears begging to be released from their confinement. 

“It- it wasn’t…I didn’t-” The way he trips over his words lets you know that he couldn’t try to tell you how he came to own these horrid wounds even if he tried, so instead of pushing him any further, you blink away the tears forming in your own eyes and lean into his space. Without thinking much of what you’re doing, you hover over the top of his right side and lay the softest of kisses on his clavicle, barely managing to hold back from turning your head to the side and giving the same attention to his neck. You don’t give him a chance to say anything else as you continue to leave a trail of kisses down each inch of skin you reveal to the warm air. Once you’ve completely removed his shirt from his body, you take a step back and bring his right arm closer to your face. Making certain that he was focusing only on you, you lift his hand to your lips and kiss across his wrist to his forearm, hoping that the gentle touches weren’t making matters worse. When you’ve left your mark over the skin that wasn’t too sensitive or too inflamed, you lay his arm down to his side and muster up the courage to meet his eyes once more. 

The look he gives you is both heartwarming and heartbreaking, and you can tell that he was trying his hardest to not break down completely in your presence. 

Ben wants to say so much. He wants to thank you for your unusual kindness and caring touches. He wants to beg you to keep leaving your mark on him because the searing heat your lips left across his skin is better than the burning pins and needle sensations he’s felt for weeks now. He wants to repay your patience by kissing away all doubts from your mind, doubts he saw from the first time he came to you. He wants to shower you with pleasant words, whispers of his affections and dreams that he was now certain you would not be opposed to. 

But all that manages to leave his mouth are two quiet, unsure words. 

“Thank you.”

You smile at him then, and Ben thanks the maker that you don’t say anything else because he’s sure he would collapse then and there if he heard your voice purr more reassuring compliments to him. 

The moment evaporates into thin air, however, when all of a sudden, you get down on your knees in front of him and look up into his tear-stained eyes just as you grab his shoes. A hint of panic washes over his entire body and you gulp nervously when he reaches down and grabs hold of both of your shoulders to prevent you from doing anything. You’re not sure what he thought you were about to do, but when you notice the soft muscles of his chest flex tightly, you realize his mind was racing towards a more inappropriate link of thinking. 

“I’m just going to take your shoes off.” Even though your voice is barely louder than a whisper, you flinch at how harsh and gravely it comes out, not because of how unpleasant it might be but because Ben twitches when he hears it fill the silent air. When he doesn’t say anything back, you let go of his legs and keep your hands clasped in your lap. Ben’s attention shifts down to look at your hands, and you almost frown in question when you notice the tight clench of his jaws as he continues to look at your stance. 

“Is this still okay?” You follow up shortly after, praying to the maker that he doesn’t collect his belongings and walk out the door. 

“Y-yes.” He lets go of your shoulders and stands up to his height again soon after, and it takes every ounce of control in your body to not beg him to have his way with you. Ben may not appear menacing and dominant when he walks around with his hunched back and inviting body language, but as you look at him now, without the multitude of clothes often hiding him from your hungry gaze, you can’t help but find his presence commanding, more so than anyone else you’ve ever met. 

Taking in a deep breath, you nod in return and lift his ankle off the ground, biting into the inside of your cheek when you feel the warm skin erupt in goosebumps underneath your touch. 

Maker, he was more touch-starved than you thought. 

As you remove his shoes and socks, your train of thought takes a turn for the worse when it comes to your attention that you might be the first person Ben has revealed himself to in a long time. A part of you hopes that you are the first to ever lay eyes on him, but you knew that, with the Coruscant accent he tried his best to hide whenever he spoke, this was highly unlikely. Ben was one of the most handsome men you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing, and this was now. You smile to yourself when you think of all the hearts he broke in his younger days, and you quickly thank the maker for not being one of them because you very much liked him as he was in this moment. 

Reserved but engaging. 

Even though Ben isn’t in touch with the Force as he used to be, he can still see through the dazed veil that overtook you as soon as you began removing his shoes. He wants to break through that blanket of doubt and assure you that you are the first who’s seen him this vulnerable in decades, but he thinks against it, not knowing how you would react to such a sudden confession.

He composes himself as you stand again, but that composure falters when he feels your fingers rest at the top of his pants. He looks down and notices how still you’ve become, and he gulps rather loudly when he realizes what you were silently asking him. Shifting his attention back to you once more, Ben doesn’t bother hiding the rapid rise and fall of his chest as his heart rate elevates, and before you can ask him if what you’re doing is acceptable, he nods at you and braces himself for what’s to follow. 

You’re not sure if it’s better for him if you avoided his gaze or kept contact with his anxiety-filled blue orbs, but you opt for the latter, knowing that he probably wouldn’t appreciate you devouring him as you pulled down his pants. Without missing a beat, you unclasp the button keeping the fabric tightly hugged around his hips, slowly lowering the zipper to give him time to remove your hands from him. When he doesn’t push your fingers away, you continue lowering the zipper until his pants are hanging loosely around his waist. 

“Is this still okay Ben?” 

You’re not sure what sort of response you expected to receive from him, but the low groan he graces you with is certainly the last thing you expected to hear. Ben must notice the shock of the noise he just made etched on your features because he nods frantically soon after and bites into his lower lip as you let his pants fall down his legs. As much as you want to take in every bit of his skin, you keep your gaze sternly above his neck, and say nothing more as you take his hands in yours and pull him towards you. Ben doesn’t dare look elsewhere, and as he steps out of his pants, he does everything in his power to distract himself from his body’s reaction to your touches. 

He prays that you aren’t offended by the natural reflex currently plaguing his mind, and it’s only when he sees how respectful you’re trying to be that he forgets his worries and looks away to the bacta tank.

“Ben, I can see how nervous you are. Like I said, I can leave to give you more privacy. If you wish to take off your…umm, the rest of your clothes, I will move to the next room and wait for you until you’re done.” You squeeze his hands tightly to let him know that you meant every word you uttered, and you’re surprised when he clutches your palms in return. 

“Don’t leave, please. I- I want you here, but I do not think I am ready to take this off just yet.” 

“That’s okay. If you want, I have something else you can wear so you don’t get these wet? I’ll have them washed for you too so they could be ready by the time we’re done.” Again, you don’t realize the innuendo until you’ve spoken the last few words. If Ben notices, he says nothing and instead agrees to your offer. You let go of his hands and move towards one of your dressers, quickly grabbing a pair of loose shorts before returning to his side. 

“I- I’ll just turn around until you’re done.” You hand him the softer fabric and smile when he nods again and shoots you a bashful smile. Before he can take his underclothes off, you lean down and snatch his pants and socks from the floor, not bothering to look at him again as you turn around and take his shirt and robe from the chair you laid them on. You throw them over your arm and wait patiently for Ben to tell you when you can turn around. There’s quiet shuffling behind you for a few moments, and you decide to study the corner of your wall to avoid thinking of Ben looks like completely nude. 

Ben clears his throat as loudly as possible to let you know that he’s dressed again, and you hope that he can see how much you’re trying to accommodate him. When you turn around, you gasp at the site of him standing in front of the bacta tank. As hard as you try not to stare at him, you can’t help but let your eyes wander down his broad form to his thick thighs and firm legs. 

“Maker Ben, you’re beautiful.” 

It’s not what you planned on telling him, but it is what comes out, and you apologize quickly when you look up at him and see the blush creeping down his neck to his chest. 

“T-thank you darling.” 

Not knowing where to go from here, you pretend he didn’t just call you another personal term of endearment and reach to grab his undergarments from him. Ben hands it to you and waits patiently until you leave to the other room before he allows his shoulders to relax. He takes those few moments to collect his bearings, looking down at his almost nude form to see if there was anything wrong with him. It’s been so long since another saw him so exposed and vulnerable, and he hopes that you like what he has to offer even a little bit. He is not as lean and muscular as he once was, and those doubts from earlier in the day come creeping back into his mind when he sees all the imperfections littering his skin. Before he can dwell too much on them though, you’re back in the room with two flasks in your hands. 

“Umm, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to receive your usual massage so I brought these out in case you decided on one after you’re done with the bacta tank.” When Ben says nothing in return, you place the two flasks down onto the table and approach him slowly. 

“Ben, I want you to know that you’re in charge here. I won’t ever do anything you don’t want. But…I do need you to tell me if I am. I know this might be all new to you but I won’t know if I’m doing anything wrong unless you tell me.” You speak as gently as possible, wanting him to know that you’re not angry with him but that you really did need him to give you even the shortest of responses. 

“Forgive me, you’re right. I- I merely cannot trust my own voice at the moment, hence my reluctance to respond to your kindness. If you are not otherwise occupied for the evening, I would very much like to receive one after.” His voice is hoarse and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was a little turned on from this entire situation. You couldn’t blame him though. You’ve been turned on ever since you walked out and saw him waiting at the corner of the parlor. 

“No need to apologize, a simple yes or no would be enough. Although, I won’t oppose hearing your voice more often.” You try to ease the anxiety floating around him, and you giggle when he raises a curious eyebrow and shoots you an actual, deep smile. 

“Is that so? You enjoy listening to my voice, little one?” The teasing remark, along with the flirtatious petname, are almost enough to have you begging for him to fuck you against the wall, but you hold yourself back from saying what you really want to tell him. 

“Y-yes, I do. It’s very gentle and soothing. You could read a manual on how to shut down a droid and I would consider it poetry.” You respond instead and move around him to get the bacta tank ready for him. Ben hums lowly and it’s only when you turn around and look at him that you see the same struggle you were experiencing taking hold of him as well. 

“Good to know.” 

Although it’s an open-ended comment, you know better than to keep the conversation going down that road. As much as you want to continue flirting with him, you don’t want to be distracted from taking care of wounds. 

“Whenever you’re ready then,” you hold the mask up to him, but Ben shakes his head and walks around to get into the tank. 

“That won’t be necessary. I do not intend on remaining in there long enough to fall asleep.” His tone is more assertive than before so you don’t try to argue with him, knowing that this was already difficult for him to do. 

“Whatever makes you comfortable.” You say as you put the breathing mask away and stand aside to give him enough room to lower himself into the tank. He’s slow and careful in his movements, and you watch him closely to see if he needs your help with anything. He sits down into the tank and looks towards you again.

“You will not leave?”

The question surprises you, and you take a step towards him, reaching out for his left hand and taking it in between your own softly to reassure him. 

“I won’t, I promise.” Ben sighs in relief at your response and he turns away as he slowly descends his body below the warm, healing waters. You quickly grab a towel and place it at the edge of the tank in time for him to lower his neck down and rest on it. 

“You know, you might be the first person to ever use the bacta tank as a bathtub and I think it’s hilarious.” You break the silence after a while, and watch as he chuckles at your words. 

“I am glad I can be amusing to you sweetheart.” You shut your eyes and meditate on his voice for a few moments, thankful that he was already finding this relaxing. You stand next to him in silence for a few minutes, and when his breathing looks constant, you think that he may have fallen asleep out of fatigue. As soon as you try to move away to bring another towel for after he finishes, his hand leaves the waters of the bacta tank and take hold of your wrist. 

“You said you would not leave.” His eyes are much more intense than before, and you blink at him in confusion before you reach for his wrist and massage his skin. 

“I’m not. I was just going to bring you a towel.” You don’t dare look away from him, knowing that he might misunderstand your behavior and think that he made you uncomfortable. Instead of letting go of your hand, he shuts his eyes and rests his head back against the edge of the tank before he lowers his arm into the water again. You don’t bother asking him why he was so afraid of remaining in the bacta tank by himself, and instead shift closer to him so your own hand can hold onto him better. Pushing your arm deeper into the water, you grab hold of his forearm and rest your head against the side of the glass, all the while studying his calm and relaxed features as the medicinal components of the liquid began to work through his wounds. 

Time passes easily as Ben relaxes further in the water, and you trace small shapes across his forearm to help ease his anxiety. You notice the occasional eyebrow twitch whenever the water gets warmer and bubbles around his arm. You study him closely and try your best to think less of what his skin would feel like sliding against your own as he coaxes pleasure from your body, but then his upper thigh touches the back of your hand suddenly and your attention shifts from his features to the expanse of his legs. 

You lick your lips when you see old scars littering his light, golden muscles and the thought that he could manhandle you any minute if he wished to causes you to clench your thighs tightly. Looking up at his face one last time, you make sure his eyes are still closed and serene before you allow yourself to memorize his broad form. Your breathing becomes erratic as you trail your gaze down his torso, fingers itching to reach over and rub across the blonde, reddish hair adorning his chest and stomach. There’s nothing you want more than to ask him what he used to do before he came to Tatooine, but you know that it would only make him feel worse for not opening up to you any further. 

Stars, he must have been someone important if there are this many scars across his body. 

As you descend your focus down his body, you fixate on his hips and the dip of skin below the edge of the shorts. It was such a shame he hid his body from the world. You knew many who would pay good money just to look at a specimen like Ben. He was hard and soft in all the right places, and from the looks of the slowly forming bulge straining against the fabric, you got the sense that he could have anyone he wanted. He would only say a word and they would come. 

Literally. 

“Do you always stare at your wounded clients as if they are exotic delicacies?” Ben’s deep voice makes you jump from your place, and you try to remove your hand from him but he holds onto your arm tightly and keeps you close to the bacta tank. 

“I- I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have-” You try to think of a believable reason behind you openly and shamelessly gawking at his nudity but words fail you when you meet his eyes and notice just how dilated and almost hungry his pupils are. 

“I was not complaining, my darling.” It’s soothing to hear that he doesn’t mind the way you’re staring at him, but you turn away with a smile on your face when he tilts his head to the side and mirrors your own actions. You can tell he’s also raking his eyes over your body from your periphery, and you hope he likes whatever he sees. 

“If you must know…no, I don’t.” You pretend to pick at something on your dress when you finally manage to utter a grammatically correct sentence. The little hum Ben throws at you is somehow in response to your words as well as his own actions, and you wish he didn’t have such an intense effect on you. 

“Hmm.”

“Only those I find interesting.” You look back at him, and feel your heart skip a beat when you see the way he’s staring at the skin peeking from underneath the thin fabric of the dress. 

“You find me interesting?” His hand slithers further up your arm until he’s grasping your shoulder, and your breathing grows erratic when the dampness of his palm drips down your exposed shoulders and wets the top of the dress. His eyes are becoming more difficult to hold contact with but you remain steadfast, wanting him to know of the effect he’s having on you, wanting him to see how easily can have you, how quickly you’d submit to him if he so much as touches your cheek again. 

“Y-yes, amongst other things.” Against your better judgment, you reach for his hair with your hand and comb it away from his face, wanting to take a better look at him in case he decided to take this a step further. What you don’t expect is for Ben to take hold of the edge of the tank and push himself up until he’s only a few inches away from you. You can feel the heat of the water radiating off of his body, and you wish he could just drag you to your bed and fuck you until you couldn’t remember anything but the sound of his name falling from your lips. 

“Enlighten me then.” Ben breathes against the corner of your mouth, and you part your lips in hopes of tasting his smile on your tongue. His scent overwhelms you in the best way possible, and you hate how it will soon become the same as the oils you’ve set aside for him. 

A strange thought breaks through the spell you’ve fallen under, and you realize too late that your expression is reflecting the worry taking hold of your heart when Ben’s smile falters for a moment, and sits back in the water as he makes note of the reluctant look aimed at him. 

“I…don’t want to lose you.” It’s perhaps the most vague sentiment you can ever tell anyone during such a moment, mostly because it wasn’t prefaced by a related question. You don’t know what else to say though and you know nothing else will come close to explaining the fear of never seeing Ben again. Thinking that he might get weirded out by the rather general statement, you turn away from him to prepare for whatever cold, uncommitted response you’ll receive from him. 

But like before, Ben surprises you and takes hold of your chin in between his fingers. As much as you don’t want to look at him, you obey his soft yet assertive motion and slowly face him. His expression switches to a more welcoming and teasing smile when he finally looks into your eyes and you can’t control your own muscles as you focus on his inviting body language. Against your better judgment, you reach for him and place one hand on his chest while the other grabs his upper arm, wanting to keep yourself grounded so you don’t run away from him as soon as he speaks. 

“You will not lose me, little one. I only ask that you speak in truths.” Ben grows bold with his touches, waiting until you slip your hand a little lower across his stomach before he traces your lower lip with his thumb. His gaze shifts to your parted lips and he licks his own when he notices your tongue peak out and almost wrap around his fingers. 

“I- I could never lie to you Ben. Never.” You shut your eyes and whisper to him as he continues to draw patterns over your heated flesh. When you feel his hand descend lower and rest on top of your neck, you squeeze his arm and urge him to do as he wishes freely and without worry. He doesn’t flex one finger and you come close to pulling him into your space, but before you can do that, you feel the hold he has on your neck tighten a bit, forcing you to open your eyes and look straight into his. 

“Promise?” Ben asks as he moves out of the water closer to you, not caring a single bit for how wet you’re becoming the more he touches you. His palm is now firmly encompassing your neck like a necklace, and you trail your hand from his biceps down his arm slowly until you have a firm grip on his wrist. A sigh of relief escapes both of your mouths in unison as you come to the same conclusion seconds apart. 

Ben came to your parlor tonight with no hope of ever becoming brave enough to tell you how deeply he cares for you, and as soon as you saw him, you prayed to the maker that it wouldn’t be the last time he’d visit you. 

As you now stare deeply into each others’ eyes, you come to understand that your desires have always mirrored each other, and that you are more than willing to give into the weeks and months of desperate need, even if you were uncertain of what would happen after tonight.  

“Please.” 

You plead against his cheek and hold your breath when you feel his other arm slowly wrap around your waist. He’s about to pull you towards him when the bacta tank shuts down and causes the waters to remain still. Ben clenches his jaw tightly as a new silence fills the room, and he reluctantly pulls away from you when he opens his eyes and sees a similar expression of irritation etched on your features. He can’t help but chuckle though as you roll your eyes at the timing of the sound. 

“Hmm, I do believe you owe me a massage.” He lets go of you and maneuvers himself around until he’s kneeling in the large glass tub. Ben says nothing as he slowly stands in the bacta tank and stares down at you, and it’s only when he tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow that you realize he’s waiting for you to bring him a towel so he doesn’t make a mess of your floors. 

“S-sorry, yes. I uhh- I did say that.” You shake your head and run towards one of your dressers, instantly reaching for the softer towels you reserved for yourself without a thought. You bring it back to him and try your best to avoid looking at the way the fabric of the long shorts hug his skin. You ignore the prominent bulge begging for your attention as you hand him the towel, not waiting for him to dry himself before you walk to the massage table near the window and prepare it for him. 

Ben doesn’t pull his attention away from you for a second, and a new amusement takes over him when he sees how hard you’re trying to remain respectful when a moment ago, you were practically presenting yourself to him on a golden platter. He takes advantage of your sudden shyness and slips out of the shorts you handed him earlier. Hanging them on the edge of the bacta tank, Ben wraps the towel around his waist and fastens it at the corner before he slowly walks towards you. 

He wants nothing more than to push himself flush against your back, but he reminds himself that this back and forth teasing would be well worth it once you finally told him what you truly wanted. 

“It’s up to you whether you want to keep the shorts on or-” The words die in your throat when you turn around and see Ben standing a few feet away from you wrapped in a towel. Your eyes shift to the bacta tank behind, and when you realize that he’s wearing nothing underneath the soft fabric slowly clinging tighter to his body, you gulp nervously and move aside so he could climb onto the bed. 

“The last thing I intend is to make a mess of your room. If you mind of course, I will gladly put them on again.” Ben teases as he approaches you, only to chuckle at you when you cut him off with a rather quick and enthusiastic response. 

“NO! I mean…uhh, no that’s- that’s okay. Whatever makes you comfortable.” You mentally kick yourself when you hear him hum at you, rolling your eyes at the grin that appears on his handsome features as he begins climbing onto the massage bed.

“Like I said earlier, please tell me if I do something you don’t like.” You say as Ben maneuvers himself around until he’s laying on his stomach, wanting him to remember that he was still completely in charge. When he settles down and fixes the towel around his hips, you take a deep breath and will yourself to think of anything but how inviting his skin looks. 

“Judging by the number of times you’ve spoken similar words to me, I suspect it is I who is making you uncomfortable.” Ben glances to the side and smirks at you when he sees you nervously clutching the different flasks of oil near your chest. 

“Uncomfortable wouldn’t be the word I’d use.” You whisper to him as you set one flask down and tilt the other in your hand until enough is poured in your palm. You move around to begin at his upper back when Ben sits up and silently stares at you. You know what he’s asking and you hate how it only takes one simple look for you to be at his mercy. 

“Nervous perhaps…or umm, overwhelmed. Whichever you find more pleasing.” You blink away and take another step towards him, hoping he’d get the idea and drop the subject before you knelt down and pleaded for him to claim you. 

“It is not my intention to inspire such feelings within you, little one.” Ben says firmly, and you realize he probably assumed the negative connotations behind those words, not the ones you actually felt. He doesn’t bother to lay back down again and you dread having to clarify what you meant when you said he made you nervous. 

“It’s you so I- I don’t mind it.” You smile shyly at him, and look down at your hands when you see the second he catches on to what you’re saying. Ben hums lowly as he settles down again and you sigh in relief at managing to convince him to move on without you embarrassing yourself any further. Before the warm oil trickles down your wrist any further, you softly begin to rub it across his upper back and bite into your lower lip when you feel Ben relax at your touch as soon as you dig your thumbs into the muscles across his shoulders. He tenses for a few seconds when you trail your palms all the way up to his neck, and you almost stop when you see the way he’s reacting to you. But when he groans deeply and stretches his neck down so you can have more access to his skin, you continue to stroke his shoulders until he visibly melts into the bed. 

You want to ask him if he wants you to do anything different, but as you pour more oil on his back and rub it until his skin is glistening like the golden suns, you forget how to form a coherent sentence. The longer you knead those knots, the louder Ben’s moans grow, so much so that you vaguely hear him apologizing for the inappropriate sounds he was conveying to you. 

It’s only when you focus on his biceps and triceps that he finally breaks the silence and snaps you out of your haze again. 

“Tell me.” Ben demands all of a sudden and you halt in your movement when you sweep your eyes over to his face and see them wide open and staring right at you. 

“W-what?”

“I think you know,” he grins at you, raising a curious eyebrow when you blink at him knowingly before you return to massaging his left arm, purposely avoiding the right one in case he still felt pain coursing through it. 

“This is hardly the time to-” For the first time since you’ve met him, Ben cuts you off mid-sentence and raises his head far enough to take a proper look at you. You ignore the way he’s looking at you and focus on his forearm, praying to the maker that he doesn’t notice your skin crawling with goosebumps every time you feel the hair on his arms tickle your fingers. 

“Do not attempt to distract me, darling. On the contrary, I believe this is the perfect time to tell me what you think of me.” He rests his cheek against the pillow once more, but you knew he wouldn’t drop this anytime soon. You move around to stand at the head of the bed, and as you reach for the other flask of oil, you feel Ben’s hands reach down and grip your upper thighs to pull you closer. 

“B-Ben…”

“I only wished to bring you closer, nothing more.” He whispers to you as he returns his hands to his sides again, making you wish he wasn’t so respectful of whatever boundaries remained between the two of you. Shaking those filthy thoughts from your head, you don’t care how intimate you’re nearing him as you lean down and push your hands down the center of his back until you’ve reached the edge of the towel. Ben moans shamelessly when you slip your fingers beneath the towel and push your thumbs harshly into the round muscles of his butt. You continue to apply pressure up and down his back, occasionally loosening the towel to get better access to his backside. You almost giggle when you see Ben raising his hips off of the bed to allow you to pull on the towel, but you hold yourself back, afraid he might think you’re laughing at him. 

Without giving him a warning, you take the oil and move to the opposite end of the bed, choosing to ignore the way he spreads his legs wider to get more comfortable. Mirroring your actions from before, you pour the oil on one leg and dig your knuckles into his calves until you hear him sigh in relief again. Ben says nothing else for a while and you suspect it is due to how close you’re beginning to get to the more sensitive areas. Even though you slip your hands underneath the towel again, you make sure to only reach the lower skin of his upper thighs and no further, not wanting him to think you want to force him through distraction. As you turn to the other leg, you can’t help but admire the numerous dips and scars across his entire body. Again, there was nothing necessarily attractive about a body mapped with different types of scars, especially when you could tell that some of them weren’t left behind by a simple blaster but by something that ran much hotter. 

A strange thought enters your mind all of a sudden at a particularly nasty gash you saw on his side earlier, but you brush it aside when you realize how pathetic it must be. There’s no way this man ever came in contact with something like a lightsaber. He mostly kept to himself. Besides, if he did ever meet the end of such a weapon, there was no chance he could live and tell the tale. 

“You’re drifting again.”

“Sorry, I was just…I was admiring your body.” You decide to stick as close to the truth as possible without making a fool out of yourself. 

“There is nothing to admire about an old man’s beaten body.” You know he meant to pass his comment off as a joke, but the self-deprecating, almost sad tone of his voice makes you think he probably thought you were bluffing to avoid answering any of his questions. 

“Turn around for me.” You tap his leg twice and pretend to distract yourself with something on your dress so you don’t accidentally get an eyeful of what’s below the towel should it slip by accident from him. It takes him a little longer than usual to settle down again, and when you turn around to look at him, you realize it’s because of the not-so-subtle reaction his body was having in response to your touch. 

“I told you I’d never lie to you Ben, and I meant it.” Ben’s eyes flutter open at your words, and he watches you closely as you pour oil on his chest and slowly rub it across his scarred skin. His gaze is more intense than ever, and you don’t dare break contact with his eyes out of fear of making him think you are lying to him. 

“I’ve seen many through the years, almost every type of shape and color and size…but none compare to yours. You’re…unique, in the most beautiful way possible.” You swear his chest rumbles with a growl at your confession, and you bite into your cheek when you see it rise and fall at a quicker pace. Looking down at his hands, you barely manage to hold back from digging your nails into his chest when you see the way he’s clenching his fists tightly at your comment.

“I- I am most flattered by your a-admiration but-” Ben grunts when you accidentally graze one of his nipples, his mind instantly going into hyperdrive and making him lose his train of thoughts. “But I highly doubt this is the most impressive form you’ve ever come across.” His voice is strained, that you’re certain of, and you want to see how far you can take it with him before he can no longer hold back. You’re close to thinking against it, but as you continue to knead his tight muscles, you notice a dark blush creeping down his neck to his chest and decide to tease him just a little bit more.

“Are you seriously going to mansplain to me who I find attractive?” You ask in what you hope is your most stern tone, and it must be more assertive than you think because Ben turns away from your hands and focuses on you again with a slight hint of panic coloring his cheeks. 

“No, I- I would never presume to tell you h-” Ben falters when he notices a dangerous glint in your eyes, and he drops his head against the pillow once he understands you were only trying to get on his nerves. 

“You minx,” he whispers beneath his breath and shuts his eyes again, allowing you a moment of respite to pay more attention to his tired muscles. A different silence falls over the room soon after, and you finally manage to take your mind away from the many things you wish to do to Ben. There’s an occasional sigh that falls from his lips every time you dig your knuckles into a particularly knotted muscle. 

Making your way around the bed, you clear your throat softly as you work your way down his stomach, and Ben becomes more vocal as he feels your hands descend beneath the edge of the towel again. Unlike earlier, when you kept your touches right at the top of the soft fabric, you become more bold with him and bring your fingers right where his waist dips and creates that faint v-line. He hisses as soon as your nails pass across the coarse hair peppering his navel at the top of his crotch, and his eyes flutter open instantly, only to see you already staring at him with a fire he’s never seen on another’s features before. 

“Sweet one,” Ben bites into his lower lip as you shiver at the endearment, and he reaches for your wrist slowly to hold onto it, afraid that he won’t be able to say what he really wants if you continued to map his skin as if you already claimed it. 

“Ben,” you sigh his name as you slip from his grip and move on to his legs. He watches you closely and furrows his eyebrows when you pour more oil on your palms and begin to rub his legs. He sits up on his elbows and gulps nervously as you move beneath the towel and move the warm viscous liquid up his thighs. Almost on instinct, Ben spreads his thighs to give you more access, and he somehow finds the will to continue breathing even as you stare straight into his eyes the higher you go up his thighs. 

“Believe me when I tell you, I’ve never met anyone I wanted to worship this much. You’re more beautiful than any star, and I want nothing more than to ease your pain, perhaps even your loneliness.” You coo at him, and watch as he struggles to find a proper response to your revelation. When he takes too long to say anything, you bring your body as close to his own as possible and drive your nails deeper into the skin of his thick thighs. Ben groans deeply and you can’t help but smile at him when you see the prominent tent forming underneath the towel flex slightly before it rests again. 

“You- you find me attractive?” The disbelief in his voice almost causes you to double over in laughter because not an hour ago, he had his hand wrapped around your throat like he had every right to touch you so intimately and here he was still questioning, not only your behavior, but your words as well. 

“Oh come on baby, I said that ages ago. Catch up and I promise to make you feel good.” Your fingers trail a little higher again, making Ben jolt all of a sudden and fist his hands against the bedsheets. 

“Dear one…do not think you need to do this for my sake. I hold the utmost respect towards you and I cannot bear the thought of ever forcing you to-” The rest of the sentiment dies in his throat as soon as you lean over him and rest your cheek against his hip. Ben ceases to breathe when you flutter your eyelashes at him as you turn to the knot on the side of the towel and bite into it. You don’t move another muscle though, wanting to give him the chance to push you away or apologize for not wanting to do this. When he inches his hand slowly to your neck and nods at you, you give his waist a quick kiss before you take the fabric of the towel between your teeth and pull on it. 

Ben grips your neck tightly as you raise your head and bring the towel away from his skin. He tries to sit up on his elbows again but he realizes too soon he doesn’t have the strength to do anything apart from stare at you as you worshiped him. 

You, on the other hand, don’t look down at the newly exposed skin, wanting Ben to see that you are willing to take things slow for his sake. Your palms remain planted on his inner and outer thigh, and when the knot comes undone, you push the fabric across his hips until it falls on either side of him. 

“Darling I-” He starts to say something but you cut him off instantly, wanting to tell him everything you’ve felt for him ever since he bid you a shy ‘hello’ that fateful time. 

“Tell me what you want Ben, please. I’ll do anything to please you, anything. You- you’ve been on my mind for so long, and I just want to make you feel good. Do what you want with me…use me, my hands, my mouth…my-”

The only warning you have before Ben drags you on top of him is a deep growl conveying nothing but absolute desperation and anguish. You’re shocked by the sudden display of power Ben exhibits all of a sudden, not because you didn’t think he was capable of pulling you into his lap with ease, but because you didn’t think he’d ever grow so bold with you. Up until now, he’s been nothing but a gentleman, always asking you in his own way if you were still comfortable with whatever was going on between the two of you. But to see him lose his self-control to the point where he had to bring you on top of him without a care for his own fatigued muscles sets your chest on fire.

“S-stars…Ben-” You moan his name when he twists his fingers into your hair and tugs on it until your throat is on full display for him. No sooner than that do you feel his mouth kissing and nipping at the juncture of your neck, and don’t dare push him away for even a second. It’s Ben’s turn to grunt against you as you dig your fingers into his chest, and without putting much thought into it, he wraps his other arm around your back and forces your chest flush against his own. He can feel your pert nipples rub deliciously against his chest, and he reminds himself that he still has to ask for permission before he rips your flimsy dress to bits. 

“Have you any idea of the effect you have on me?” 

You sigh heavily as you gyrate your hips against his hard cock, giggling to yourself when the action distracts him from leaving his mark on every bit of your skin. 

“I- I think I have a small idea actually…well, it’s not that small actually. More like a- oh fuck, oh my stars…it’s a hard, thick, delicious idea.” Your jumbled words earn you a chuckle from the man beneath you, and you open your eyes to look down at him when he lays back down against the pillow and brings you along with him. 

“It is you who deserves to be worshiped, sweet one. Believe me, I want nothing more than to take my time with you, relish in the way I coax pleasure from every bit of this lovely body of yours, mark you with kisses that rival the stars in this galaxy…but I can bear it no longer.” His unabashed confessions send a strike of lightning down your spine, making you arch your back against him to feel his lips on your heated skin again. You sink your fingers into his hair the harder he pulls you against him, and only when his palm grabs at your ass and pushes it against his cock do you dare to pull on his sun-kissed strands. Ben thrusts his hips into your stomach, the sensation of his hard and heavy length reminding you of how full you will feel in a matter of minutes. 

Pleading words slowly form on your lips in response to his rather needy requests, but you can’t find the will to part with them due to the sheer hold Ben has on you, physically and emotionally. His arms tighten around you when he notices you trying to remove yourself from him. You look down to try and put his mind at ease, tell him that you’d never think of letting him go now that he was touching you so sweetly. But as soon as you set your eyes on his own dilated ones, you forget how to breathe and pray that he puts you out of your misery. Thankfully, Ben doesn’t take too long to notice the hungry way in which you continue to eye his lips, and before either of you say anything else, he’s pulling you down by the neck and meeting you halfway with what you would later describe as the most breathtaking kiss you’d ever been gifted in your entire life. 

You always thought Ben would kiss you softly, perhaps slip his tongue reluctantly into your mouth if you parted your lips for him. And perhaps he does savor such soft touches, you pray you can find out later if he prefers them. This moment, however, reminds you that this man was very much capable of bringing you to your knees with a simple look if he so wished. The thought of being at his mercy forces you closer to him, and you tilt your head to the side as he deepens the kiss, his tongue working magic against you and allowing you to look forward to where else it can leave its mark. 

Judging from the hungry and aggressive control Ben displays, you don’t bother trying to take control of the moment. The hum of approval he graces you with when he feels you completely melt against him coaxes a moan from your throat, and you manage to break the kiss for one second to breathe before Ben shoves his mouth against yours again. You almost sob at how much he wants you, and you almost do as well. But when you feel his fingers slowly tug on the ends of your long clothes, you forget everything else and raise yourself above him a few inches to give him more access to your clothes. It’s his turn to break the kiss, and you nuzzle into his neck and whimper when he bunches your dress all the way across your hips. 

“Love, will you let me have you? I promise to pleasure you later with nothing but my lips, kiss every inch of your skin until you beg me to stop. But right now, I- Force help me, I will surely die if I do not feel the heat of your cunt around my cock.” Ben pleads against your ear, kissing and nipping across the heated skin of your cheek as he keeps the dress around your waist with one hand while the other squeezes your ass. The soft material of your panties makes him slam his head against the pillow twice to control himself until you give him a proper answer. 

“Maker…please just-” You cry his name once he slips his fingers beneath the flimsy article of clothing and pulls on it until it’s perfectly nestled across your aching clit. It strains against his ministrations, and you wish he can just rid you of it so you can feel his cock slide against your cunt. Not knowing what else to do, you turn to him a little and leave a trail of wet kisses from his beard down to the clenched muscles of his neck and shoulders. When you slowly begin to suck your mark on his jugular, Ben thrusts his cock hard against you again, almost causing you to slip from his lap at the sudden and aggressive reaction. He can feel your dress still keeping you from him and in an effort to maneuver you better so he can slip it off, his fingers slip below the front of your panties and pass deliciously against your wet cunt. Both of you cease all movement instantly, but the warmth of his hand feels too good against your pulsating clit so you throw all caution aside and push yourself harder against him. His fingers pass perfectly across your slit and forces an obscene moan deep from your throat. 

“Let me have you. Let me make love to you sweetheart. Let me mark you as mine…claim you so the stars know whom you belong to.” Ben pleads one last time as he expertly rubs your clit and grips your hair tightly to have some semblance of control until you consent to his needs.

“Please Ben, I- I want you so fucking badly. Do whatever you want with me. I don’t care what you do, just don’t stop touching me. Make me yours…oh fuck, take me now, and don’t be gentle.” You were never one to beg for anything from a man, but as Ben tilts his head to the side and whispers the faintest promises to you, you throw all self-consciousness and respect aside for the sake of meeting the end of those confessions. 

“Anything for you, love.” Ben promises against your lips, not wasting another precious second as he lets go of your ass and brings his hand to his mouth. You watch as he spits on his fingers and shoves those same digits into your mouth to collect your own essence before he reaches for his cock. You try to throw your head back to savor the moment but Ben keeps a firm grip on your hair, silently letting you know that he wanted to watch as he filled you with his dick for the first time. You furrow your eyebrows at the vague sensation of Ben’s hands rubbing his cock to with your combined spit, and when you can’t take it any longer, you cry his name again to urge him on. 

“Fuck me…please Ben.”

The request washes over Ben like a prayer, and he leans up to capture your lips in another heated kiss just as he shoves your panties to the side and teases your clit with the head of his cock. You can feel how warm and hard he is against your slit, and you shove your hips forward to try and catch his length in between your wet lips. Ben is quicker though, and he holds you back with a simple pull to your strands, a small warning to ensure that you understand who was in control. 

“Little one, I want to hear you beg for my cock. Beg me to fill your cunt.” The filthy command sends a shiver down your spine, and you begin to shake in his arms the more he teases your clit with his length. 

“Ben, I can’t- maker, it hurts. It hurts not having you inside me. I can’t take it anymore, I want you to fill me with your cock. Fuck me the way you’ve always wanted, I- I promise to be good for you. Please…please give me y- ahhh…”

He almost panics at the first few words you sob as you stare deep into his eyes, and it’s only when you continue that Ben finally understands just how much you want him. He was planning on teasing you until the whole planet knew who was making you feel so needy, but the way you moan to him your craving for his cock sends him over the edge. Without warning, Ben pulls you until your chest is flush against his own, and before you can say anything else, he slowly inches his cock into your pussy, halting every few seconds to give you a chance to get used to the intrusion. 

“Fuck me Ben, I n-need you to…fu-uck me.” Your voice barely comes out as a whisper, and it takes every ounce of focus and control in Ben’s system to not thrust into your heat quickly and fill you over and over again. 

“I don’t wish to hurt you.” He lets go of your hair and wraps both of his arms around your back in an attempt to comfort you. But you can’t find it in yourself to care for whether he will leave you bruised and hurt. All you seem to want is to feel him everywhere, and you do so by wrapping your arms around his neck and shoving your face into the crook of his neck again. 

“I want it to hurt…I want to feel you for days. I- I need it Ben.” You hope that he understands how truthful you are, but Ben remains still for a few seconds more, making you shake with desperate need for more. More of his kisses, his gaze, his touch, his thick cock carving your cunt to fit you perfectly. 

“Please.” You plead one last time, and it must be all he needs to hear because in an instant, Ben is spreading his legs wider until his feet are planted firmly against the bed. 

“I feel you will be the death of me, my darling.” You part your lips to respond to him but the world seems to fade away all of a sudden as Ben snaps his hips up against you and fills you completely. The force of his action sends you over the edge easily, coaxing the quickest of pleasures from your body in such a way that makes it difficult to hold onto that last sliver of control you had left over your mind and soul. You sigh heavily against his skin, not sure of relief or pain, but the moment is cut short when Ben is forcibly shoved out of your cunt with a strange sensation. Neither of you know what just happened, but you soon realize the response of your body to Ben’s desperate ministrations when he takes hold of his cock again to push into your cunt and feels just how wet his navel and your thighs now were. 

“Did- did you just…” The shock on Ben’s features embarrasses you to no end, and you try to find an excuse to convey to him so he doesn’t think you’re as pathetic as a loth cat in heat, but all words fail you when you meet his eyes and see how far dilated they are. He must see worry etched on your features because he doesn’t give you a chance to think more of what just transpired and pushes his cock past your wet slit again. Whatever you’re about to say evaporates into thin air as you clench your core to get used to his size again, and before you know it, he’s fully sheathed in your tight walls, hard and hot as you always thought he would be.

“Maker…your cunt knows to whom it belongs already, doesn’t it sweetheart? It knows me…and I barely touched you.” Ben asks without looking away from you, arms slowly roaming the expanse of your body until you completely melt against him. He slips a hand around your upper back until he’s tugging the hair on the nape of your neck, his other arm circling your waist perfectly and holding you flush against him. When he ensures the tight grasp he has around you, he repositions himself again until his feet are flat against the sheets. Before you can respond to his question, which you noticed was laced with nothing but pride at having mastered your body in the span of only a few minutes, he snaps his hips against you once to give you a taste of what’s to come. 

“Yes, I- I’m yours Ben. All yours…e-ever since I met you, I-” You’re searching for the proper words to whisper to him, but you come to the realization that he never intended for you to actually respond to him. With every syllable you manage to breathe against his neck, Ben thrusts his cock deep into your cunt, filling you deliciously time and again until you memorize the feeling of him as he brought you pleasure. 

“Hmm?” A cocky smirk breaks out on his handsome features, and you wish with all your heart you can smack it away. Instead, you relish in the fact that Ben—sweet, quiet, and shy Ben—didn’t mind showing you this side of him. You never thought you’d ever come to the point in your relationship where you could hear such filthy declarations from him, let alone see him teasing you so openly. You snap out of the momentary spell he’s put you under when he slows down and brings you impossibly close to him until you can feel nothing but his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars. Your thighs begin to shake when he doesn’t move, and as you attempt to sit up so you can take over, Ben shakes his head and tightens his hold around you.  

“Please just-” You plead with him, praying to the maker that he can put you out of your misery and fuck you into the next moon already. He drags his fingers down your back and pushes your ass down against him, forcing you to roll your hips around his cock until your legs continue to violently shake. You can feel every ridge and protruding vein swipe deliciously across your walls, and you fight to take a deep breath so you don’t lose your mind over the feeling of him marking every inch of your heat with the wet, hard skin of his tip.  

“I won’t ask again, sweet one. Tell me.” His voice is hoarse, unlike all the other times throughout the night when he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. You can’t help the shiver that runs across your skin at the sound of his tone, mostly because you never thought that your Ben would be this vocal and dirty during such an intimate moment. You thought he would be too shy to tell you what he desires, but the harder he pushes you down on him while thrusting his hips up into you, the more you understand that this was always the Ben you spoke with, he just needed a little bit of patience and love to return to whom he once was.

“Ever since I met you, I knew that…oh fuck, I knew that I could never be with anyone else. You- stars, please move Ben. I’m so full of you but- fuck…need to feel you everywhere. ‘Ve dreamt of giving you everything…and now I- I just…I can’t take it anymore.” When he doesn’t give any inclination of letting you go, you give into his embrace and wrap your arms around his shoulders, slowly leaving a trail of wet kisses across his neck and clavicle to urge him on. He squeezes your ass as he rolls your hips around, tilting his head to the opposite side to give you more access to the expanse of his skin. You sink your teeth into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, making him shove his cock harshly into your cunt unintentionally and sending you closer into his arms. 

It’s in this moment that Ben wants nothing more than to reach out to your Force signature and feel you envelop him fully. But he’s reluctant to do so, not only because it’s been a decade since he’s done something so intimate, but also because he didn’t think he could share this part of himself with you just yet. You’ve been nothing but understanding ever since you welcomed him into your room, before then even, but he doesn’t want to test his luck. Something about the way you wrap yourself around him though sets his mind at ease. He may not be able to tell you now, but he got the sense that he would eventually reach a level of comfort with you where he wouldn’t worry about your reaction to such a secret. 

For now, the knowledge that he only needed to kiss you to feel you melt into his arms would have to be enough. He’s been alone for so long, spent decades without feeling the touch of another. The last thing he wished to do was to complain about the limited way he can be with you. This was more than enough. 

Ben throws his head back in ecstasy when you kiss the corner of his mouth and tug on his hair, silently asking him if everything was okay. One look at the pleasure engraved on your features and his mind is at ease once more. He can still feel you shaking with want above him, and it drives him mad with lust. To think that someone like you, someone who’s met others more fascinating than him, easily submitted to him pushes him over the edge and roams his hands across your back in an effort to feel you surrender to him.

“Oh sweet one, you truly have gone cockdumb for me. So good for me, so fucking exquisite.” He growls his need against your cheek, watching with fascination as you rubbed your skin against his beard the harder he shoved his cock into your wet cunt. He wants to go slow, relish in the tightness and welcoming heat of your pussy as it swallows him enthusiastically. But your desperation makes him forget his mission. Ben chuckles as you whine and whimper the rougher the hair of his beard mark your skin and neck, and he’s about to pull away to give you some respite when you reach out further to him and continue stroking him like your life depends on it. 

“Yes, oh maker yes, I- I’ll be good. I promise…I’ll do anything you ask Ben.” Ben swears beneath his breath at the shameless tone of your voice as you let him do whatever he pleases with your body. Taking advantage of your momentary distraction, Ben unravels his arms from around your back and takes hold of the thin straps of your dress. You only have a second to realize you can’t feel his protective embrace around your tired form, and before you ask him why he let go of you, a loud ripping sound fills the room. Looking down, you notice that he’s pulled the top of your dress to shreds and shoved it down your chest until you were revealed to his hungry eyes.

In your line of work, you’ve grown used to the way your clients tended to eye your body as you walked by. You even thought you’d never get to feel the rush of pleasure coursing through your veins at the thought of being the object of desire for someone. But as you study Ben’s reaction to finally seeing your nude form, you suddenly feel too exposed to your liking and slowly let go of his shoulders to cover yourself. Ben is quicker though, and he drags your wrists away from your body before pushing them behind your back and holding them tightly in one of his palms. 

“You beautiful star…and here I thought I- kriffing hells, I would need to kneel before you to get the faintest glimpse of…maker help me, of your desires.” Ben groans deeply as he leans forward and takes your nipple in his mouth. You can easily break free from the hold he has on your wrists, but choose against it, wanting to relish in how dominant and wanton this man has become for you. His tongue works magic on your pert nipples, and you work your hips harder onto his cock when his teeth tug softly on your hardened peak. It’s his turn to whimper beneath you, and you smile to yourself as he lets go and pays equal attention to your other breast. You look down again and watch as Ben hungrily marks your chest with his teeth, and you push yourself into his mouth to make sure he claims as much of you as possible. 

“But I should have expected this, should have known you would bend to my will in an instant.” Ben whispers as he lays back down against the bed and brings you along with him. He must see the effect his voice and his words are having on you because soon after, he starts fucking up into you with abnadon, returning his other hand to your back and using your arms to control your movements more easily. He wants to come so kriffing badly but he holds back to feel you let go for him again. You can’t hold yourself up anymore and completely lose yourself to the plethora of sensations that were possible only through Ben. Nuzzling into his neck, you cry his name over and over again as you reach that familiar high once more, praying to the stars that he continues fucking you through your orgasm so you can think of nothing else but him. 

“That’s it love, come for me again. Come on my cock, mark me with your sweet essence.” Ben kisses your forehead as he urges you to come for him, and even though he’s coaxed pleasure from you so easily before, he’s still surprised to feel your walls clench tightly around him soon after as your release washes over him. He fucks you through it, relishing in how violently your whole body shakes against him the more he prolongs your orgasm. When you beg and whine his name so he could at least slow down, Ben fights with himself against turning you around and fucking into you wihtout a care for anything else. He slows down to a stop but doesn’t pull out just yet, wanting to commit this moment to memory so he can return to it later as he touches himself to the thought of you giving every bit of yourself to him so freely. 

His cock twitches the more your muscles spasm around him, and he hisses when you try to move off of him and sink deeper on his dick. 

“B-Ben?” Your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper, and Ben worries for a moment that he may have gone a bit too far with you. 

“Ahh, little one- you’re so exquisitely tight around me.” It’s not what he wants to say, but it is what escapes his lips when you fall back against his chest and your pert nipples rub against the damp hair peppering his chest. 

“Keep going, don’t- don’t stop. Please.” You look into his eyes as you ask him to keep going, and Ben almost gives into your request when he locks his gaze with you and sees how genuine your pleading words are.

“But you m-must be sensitive. I don’t wish to-” The last thing he wishes to do is to stop, but he doesn’t want you to feel obligated to do anything else. When you lean down and take his lips in a heated kiss, Ben’s worries flutter away along and become replaced with a need unlike anything he’s ever felt before. You sneak your tongue into his mouth and fight to mark him as he’s done with you. Unlike before, when Ben would have pulled your hair to remind you who’s in charge, he allows you to do what you wish, knowing that he would control your body again in a few moments. 

“I don’t care, ahhh I don’t. I just want to feel you, want your cock to fill me up till I- oh fuck, till I can’t feel anything but how perfect and hard and hot you feel in my pussy. Mark me, I want it Ben.” You break the kiss and gasp against his skin when you notice how pliant he’s become beneath you. Nipping at his neck, you relish the clear reddened marks slowly appearing everywhere you’ve attended to, the sudden need to see his skin  glistening with your spit and teeth marks making you return to biting and licking him again. 

“Have I not claimed every inch of your skin enough? Have I not already trained your body to recognize my touch…my lips…my cock?” Ben barely manages to respond, the sensation of your mouth claiming him making him impossibly hard inside your pussy. He moans in between every word he breathes out to you, fingers digging into your waist and back when you grow more bold and aggressive with your marking. 

“No- it’s…that’s not- I need you to mark me. Mark me with your seed. Come inside me and claim me.” 

Time seems to stop as soon as Ben registers what you’ve just asked of him. He doesn’t dare move a muscle as he watches you lean up and make contact with his shocked eyes. 

“Little one, are you sure?” The question is whispered and you can’t help but think that it’s because Ben was trying to keep himself in check so he doesn’t breed you then and there. You let go of his neck to grab his hand, thanking the maker that he wasn’t fighting for dominance during such a moment. You take his fingers and trail them down your arm, and when they settle above the skin of your forearm, you push those digits and move them around until Ben feels the small chip hiding beneath heated and flushed skin. You swear you notice the faintest hint of disappointment on his features, and the thought that he truly wanted to fill you with his seed and breed you almost makes you come again. 

“Gods yes…fuck your cum inside my cunt Ben, and fill me up.” You let go of his hand and tell him as you capture his lips in another searing kiss. 

“Force help me, the mouth on you…it's dangerous. What a filthy fucking girl you’ve been sweetheart. And you are all mine.” Ben doesn’t give you any warning as he suddenly sits up and wraps your legs around his waist. You throw your head back and dig your nails into the hair at the nap of his neck as he roams his calloused palms up and down your back until they land on your thighs. It’s his turn to leave bruising marks on your shoulders, and when he’s satisfied with how far gone into pleasure he’s sent you, he hops off of the massage bed and makes his way towards your own bed.

“Yes.” You shut your eyes and surrender to him, excitement rushing through your veins when you feel him harden and grow heated inside your cunt with every step he takes. 

“Mine to do with as I wish.” Ben commands as he holds you tightly against his chest, the need to feel every inch of you slide deliciously across him outweighing everything else. 

“Please.” You plead again, wanting him to move quicker to your bed so he could fuck you like you’ve dreamt of for weeks on end. 

“Mine to touch, mine to kiss, and mine to fuck when I please.” He smiles when he sees your skin erupt with goosebumps at his promising words, and he slides his hands down your back as he kneels on your bed until he softly lays you on your back. You let go of him, and stretch your arms across your sheets, looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes as he trails his hands over your glistening skin. He thrusts softly into your pussy and throws his head back when your walls flutter around his cock and pull him in deeper. 

“Stars, you feel heavenly wrapped around my cock, so wet and ready to be fucked properly.” Ben sighs into the quiet room, returning his gaze to you once more when you dig your nails into the skin of his thick thighs to get his attention. 

“Use me, fuck me like you’ve wanted.” 

“Oh, I intend to little one.” He raises a curious eyebrow at your choice in words, knowing fully well that you were trying to get a rise out of him to get what you wanted, what both of you craved for so long. Leaning down against you until his arms rested on either side of your head, Ben mouths the softest of kisses on your forehead and down your cheeks until you’re smiling hazily at him. 

“I assure you, I will not leave your bed until your cunt is drowning in my seed. Is that what you desire of me, love? You wish to be full of my cum?” Ben asks as he begins to plunge his cock harder into you, his dick growing impossibly harder when you wrap your arms around his back and pull him flush against you. 

“Y-yes, gods yes Ben.” You claim against his throat, crying in pain and pleasure as that familiar heat grows in your lower stomach. 

“Look at you, you're positively sinful.” His voice is strained as he picks up the pace, and he’s torn between shutting his eyes to focus on how warm you feel around him and opening them to memorize your beautiful expression as you come undone again. Looking down for a brief moment, Ben decides that he very much desires to look upon you as you let him use you, a part of him somehow still wanting to ensure that you were, in fact, writhing beneath him, and that this wasn’t another dream plaguing his lonely nights. 

“Oh Ben, you're- you're so deep inside me. Your cock is stretching me so…gods, it's addicting. Can’t get enough of you…won’t ever- mhmm get enough of you.” You’re not sure if you’re making any sense to him, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when his cock hits all the right spots that force you among the stars. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl…you're doing so well for me.” Again, the sound of his voice as he fights to speak turns you on way more than it should, and you mouth at whatever skin you can reach to show him how much you want him, how much you crave tasting him on your tongue every minute of every day. 

“I'm so close already…please I- ahhh Ben, I want you to come with me. Need it, ohhhh so much.” You open your eyes for a second, and the sight that greets you will forever be etched in your mind’s eye. 

Ben was furrowing his eyebrows, focused solely on you and nothing else as he drove his cock into your cunt so deep and fast that you could feel the tip of him hit your cervix precisely and consistently. The sound of skin slapping on skin and heavy grunts fills the room, pushing you impossibly closer to the edge faster than you thought possible. Ben bites into his lower lip when he notices the way you’re looking at him, and he swears for a moment that you were about to confess something to him he knew might pull him apart. You part your lips to breathe those three shameless words to him but hold back at the last minute, afraid it might ruin the moment and unintentionally push him away. 

“I can't…can't hold back much longer, little one. Your cunt is begging for my seed, pulling me in deeper each time I sink into you. I can feel- oh sweet one, I can feel your walls fluttering around me. You are close, aren’t you?” He snaps his hips roughly against you over and over again until your body begins to shake underneath him. Ben growls into the night air when you suddenly cross your legs behind his back and push him into you until all he can feel is the sheer need you’re displaying for him. 

“Ben, oh maker-”

“That's it, dear heart. Come for me, know this sensation…memorize how full you are now so you can't come without feeling my cock inside you.” Ben loses the last sliver of control he has on his mind when he looks down and sees you crying with shameless desperation for him. He wants to slow down for both of your sakes, but you fit too perfectly around him that he can’t decide whether he wants to burrow his way into your cunt or your soul. 

“I- I’m…Ben-” You want to say so much. You want to tell him how long you’ve waited for this, how lonely you felt each time he walked out of your parlor with the unspoken promise of never seeing you again. You want to breathe to him how difficult it is for you to go a single day without the thought of his smile and his eyes, how you dream every night of submitting every beat of your heart to him. Instead, you pray his name like a benediction across his lips until you can’t voice your pleasure anymore, and with a particular thrust that forces the coarse hairs on his lower navel to slide perfectly across your clit, you fall apart on his cock and clench so harshly around him that he instantly falls over the edge with you. 

“Oh darling, you are driving me mad with need. I- I burn for you, and now…fuck, now you will be mine.” It’s the last promise he commands on your flushed skin, and with a few more thrusts, Ben comes undone and sinks his cock as deep into your pussy as he can without hurting you. He feels you squeeze him tightly and a strike of lightning shoots down his spine when he feels you sink your teeth into his shoulder to hold back from screaming his name. He mirrors your action bites your neck as well, his balls twitching violently until he’s released his seed inside you and painted your tight walls with his cum. 

The two of you remain wrapped in each other’s arms for a while after, neither of you wishing to part so much as an inch out of fear of this all becoming an extremely vivid dream. Ben pants with difficulty above you, and he remembers to hold himself above you just as his arms begin to give out. You notice what he’s doing before he gets off of you, and you twist your legs across his lower back to ensure that he remains where he is. The action accidentally pushes his cock further in your cunt, making the two of you hiss out of pain and pleasure at the oversensitivity coursing through your muscles. 

When you’ve had enough time to return to yourself once more, you slowly massage his back and let go of his waist, knowing that he might not necessarily wish to cuddle with you after what you’ve done. Ben begins to pull away and you will your heart to remain silent so you don’t break apart in front of him. But instead of leaving, Ben smiles softly at you and leans down to capture your lips in a loving embrace. You part your mouth for him instantly, sighing in relief when he takes a page out of your book and roams his palms up and down your thighs to soothe you. 

“Are you hurt? Was I- did I hurt you, my darling?” He asks worryingly, eyes quickly moving down your form and making note of all the bruises he’s left over your skin. 

“No Ben, you- maker, you were perfect.” You shake your head and smile at him, chest clenching tightly at the thought of this man thinking that he can ever do something to make you uncomfortable. 

“You are sure I didn’t-” He tries to ask again, but you don’t give him a chance and pull him down for another kiss. His body melts against you right away, and you smile when you feel his beard tickle your chin as he deepens the kiss. You’re not sure how long the two of you remain intertwined in each other, but when the need for air grows, you lay your head back against the sheets and look up at him with a teasing eyebrow. 

“Yes…besides, I like it a little rough.”

“You are an incorrigible little vixen.” Ben shakes his head and chuckles when you shrug your shoulders and make a show of checking him out. He blushes a deep shade of red as soon as he feels your hand roam up and down his chest with a hungry look. 

“I meant it when I said you can do whatever you want with me.” You break the silence, and pretend to ignore the small twitch of his cock at your declaration. Taking his hand into yours, you bring it up and kiss his palm to distract yourself from pushing him down on his back and riding him until he begs you to show him mercy. 

“What?” You giggle when you look up and see the way Ben studies you, unable to decipher whether his expression was one of newfound interest in wanting to fuck you agian or judgement how much you crave him. 

“Have you any idea of the effect those words have on me?” He asks as he twists your hand in his own and lays the softest and most loving of kisses over your knuckles. 

“Maybe,” you respond cheekily with a roll of your hips, making Ben grunt and rest his forehead against your own. He meets your movement with a slow thrust and shivers once he recognizes the mess he’s made of the two of you. Mostly you…

“Hmm, I will never get enough of this…enough of you. I thought this burning would calm once I have you but,” he stops mid-sentence to nudge your nose with his own, only continuing when he looks down and sees sheer bliss written across the smile reaching your eyes. 

“But now I know.” Ben doesn’t finish the rest of his thought, a part of him wanting to still tease you and see if you were actively listening to him or just humoring his words while you surrendered to his hands. 

“W-what?” You don’t realize how difficult you find it to breathe until Ben’s low, gravelly voice washes over your clavicle and down your sternum with each wet kiss he leaves. 

“Now I know I must have you whenever I can,” Ben declares as he sucks on one nipple, not giving you a chance to escape him and pinching the other in between his thumb and index finger. You arch your back into him, pushing your chest against his aggressive touches to relish the sensations rising across your body once more. 

“And what will happen if- ahhh stars, if you don’t?” You whimper beneath him as soon as his teeth close over your hardened peak a little harsher than you expected. 

“My heart may burst.” He declares those simple words with such assurance that your heart skips a beat at how terrifyingly honest he’s being with you. 

“You r-really want me this much Ben?” You can’t help but ask, a part of you still afraid that he only laid with you out of loneliness and not because he only desired to be comforted and touched by you. 

“I believed my desires were etched upon my face as clear as the twin suns. Clearly I was mistaken. Sweetling, not a moment goes by without the mere thought of your smile plagues my mind.” He stops his quest to kiss every inch of you in order to look into your eyes to show you that he means every word he’s said thus far. Ben notices the tears slowly forming in your eyes at his confession, and he smiles lovingly at you before leaning down and kissing the tears away. 

“In that case, you can have me anytime you want. I’ll never say no to you Ben, never.” You try to set his mind at ease so he doesn’t think you’re growing too emotional to his liking, but Ben kisses you instead to set your mind at ease. 

“Dearest, you know not how those words fill me with joy.”

“I’m glad I can make you happy so easily.” You turn away from him and get distracted by all the reddened marks you left across his neck and shoulders. 

“To look in your eyes is to behold a whole galaxy. It is as simple as that.” Ben purrs softly against your lips, and you shudder at the ease with which he can reveal to you such intimate and vulnerable desires to you. 

“Maker, you really do have a way with words, don’t you?” You giggle when he kisses the corner of your lips before nudging your nose again with a breathtaking smile that reaches his ears. 

“Only for you, sweet one. Only for you.” 

Ben sighs heavily as he feels you melt completely beneath him after a while, and as you slowly give yourself to sleep, he reluctantly pulls away to look upon your peaceful features again. So much has happened during the past few months, the past few years if he was being truly honest, but the longer he gazes at you, the calmer his heart feels because never in his entire life did he think he could be capable of feeling such emotions again. 

Never in his entire life did he think he could find his heart again…

And in such a place where it wasn’t meant to be. 

Tagging those who showed interest: @metalarmsandmanbuns​ @purple-mango @a-bang-for-your-bucky​ @zombiesnips-blog​

[dameronology]

when it rains (obi-wan x reader)

summary: being in love with obi-wan is great - but it might be less difficult if he knew about it. (commission for @ofmusesandsecrets!)

warnings: language

You were generally quite good at keeping your shit together.

Obi-Wan Kenobi had always been a threat to that.

On the surface, you were everything a Senator could need to be; an intelligent and well-spoken individual, with a high level of education and a passion for change. You always stood up for what you believed in; always spoke up on issues you were passionate about and always fighting the good fight. These were all things that Obi-Wan had loved about you, and in what felt like the galaxy's cruellest Catch 22, it was that love that threatened your ability to upkeep appearances. One glance at him across the Senate, or a brief moment of eye contact at one of the Galas - more often than not where he was your bodyguard - and you were worried it would all come tumbling down.

You had met Kenobi a few years after he'd become a Jedi Master. You were early on in your career as a politician, working as an apprentice to a higher-level representative. Always on the go, with stacks of paperwork in your arms and a million thoughts brewing in your mind, you'd crossed paths with Obi-Wan one morning during a meeting in the Temple. He'd given you a smile, made a quip about how he'd never seen you not on the go (which confirmed to you that he had seen you before and had stared long enough to notice those details about you).

Five years later, you hadn't been able to look at anyone else.

He was your best friend now, undoubtedly and wholly. You saw each other every day at the least - maybe in meetings and occasionally in passing - but he would come to your apartment every night without fail. Mostly just to catch up, and sometimes just to vent. Even on the days where Anakin had driven him to the point of grey hair, you were still happy to listen.

It was raining tonight in Coruscant. A lot. Lashing down from the sky, putting most of the city to a halt. Your afternoon meeting had been cancelled as a result, which meant you'd been holed up in your apartment all afternoon, a mug of tea in one hand and a stack of paperwork in the other. Obi-Wan's first ever comment to you had always rung true; you were always on the go, even when you were sat still. There was always something on your mind - something to create, something to do, something to debate. Sometimes, it made Obi-Wan want to grab your shoulders, give you a little shake and tell you to slow the fuck down.

He turned up just after 8PM - drenched, as expected, and with a slightly wet coffee cup in hand. In your line of work, you could afford a slow afternoon. For Obi-Wan, your busiest day of work was comparable to one he'd find relaxing. You had no doubt that he'd not long wrapped up for the night, so you wasted no time in stepping aside and letting him into your apartment.

"Long day?" you asked, eyebrows raised.

Obi-Wan glared at you. "Long day. Wet day."

"Right, sorry," you snorted. Taking the coffee cup out his hands, you tossed it into the garbage and headed towards your kitchen. "C'mon, I'll make you a drink that's not half rainwater."

"Thank you, darling," he gave you a small smile, hot on your tail as he followed you through the apartment. "I heard the Senate meeting was called early this afternoon."

"Yeah," you replied. "At like 2PM. Half the people due to come couldn't make it due to the weather. It took me two hours to get home."

"You should have come and found me at the Temple," Obi-Wan said. "You know my room is always available."

You knew. You'd always known, even on the nights when Obi-Wan was present there too. How many times had you stayed over after a long night? Snuck back there after a Gala? Just to sleep three feet apart, both your minds working at a thousand miles an hour, purely to resist the urge to reach out towards him and curl up into his side. The idea of domesticity with Obi-Wan was almost enough to kill you, just as it was right now. Here he was, leant against your kitchen counter. He was throwing his wet cloak into your tumble drier, hands reaching for a tea towel on the side. He was acting like he lived here, like he paid half the rent and maker, you wished he would. You wished that he would come back here every night and just fucking stay. With you, here, forever. No outside world; no politics; no stupid Jedi laws.

"Where did you go?" he asked.

You blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Your mind - it went somewhere," Obi-Wan continued. "What are you thinking about?"

"Oh, uh...just work," you forced a smile. "You know how it is."

"I turn off when I'm done," he replied, hand brushing down your arm. "You never really stop, do you?"

I stop thinking about work, you thought to yourself, but I never stop thinking about you.

"No, I will," you murmured. "Sorry."

"Never be sorry," Obi-Wan said.

You snapped back into action, hands quickly chucking ingredients into a mug in order to produce an acceptable cup of coffee. You knew Obi-Wan's routine with his fancy-ass drip filter and organic beans and locally sourced milk. It was a few levels above the instant coffee you were about to press into his hands, but your actions were still met with a smile.

"How are you going to get back to the Temple later?" you asked. "The storm has half the city at a standstill and I beg you not to say that you're walking."

He smiled. "I realised as soon as I got to your building that I may be trapped for the night."

"Right," you replied, fighting back your own smile. "That's sort of the point I was getting to anyways."

Your eyes met, and you couldn't help but sometimes wonder if he felt it too. If his eyes lingered on yours when you turned away, if you were constantly on his mind every moment that you were apart. Of course, it was different for him; after all, the job he'd dedicated his very life to forbade attachment in any form and this? Well, this was the highest form.

"I have some of my brothers clothes in the hallway closet," you broke the silence. "You're welcome to steal some."

Obi-Wan smiled. "Thank you, darling."

It wasn't really a question between you about where he would be sleeping. You only had one bed and you'd already shared before, so what was the point in overcomplicating it? Well...overcomplicating it even more. Nothing about this was simple, and sharing a bed was not the distance you needed for the situation, but what did you care anymore? You yearned to be around the man all the time, even if it meant doing this weird to-and-fro that you'd had going on for half a decade. Him being in your bed just for tonight was fine. You were both tired. You both needed it.

Obi-Wan picked up his mug, giving your arm another squeeze.

"I'm going to go and shower," he said. "Thank you letting me stay."

You smiled and nodded. "Always."

Putting aside your own half empty coffee, you threw it into the sink - that would be tomorrow's problem, as would all of this - and went through to the bedroom. You could hear the shower running, and your mind again went off to that all too familiar place: home. Not here, but wherever Obi-Wan was. What you wouldn't have given to had this every night; you getting ready for bed, him in the shower, both of you planning to end up in the same bed. It wasn't possible. You knew it wasn't possible, as long as he were still a Jedi and as long as you were still a Senator. Hell, you would have thrown your position aside in seconds if it meant being with him. Maybe that was the difference between the two of you.

Changing into a baggy shirt and sweatpants, you threw aside the covers and climbed into bed. The sheets were cold, as they always were when you first went to bed, but knowing someone else was minutes away from warming them up sent butterflies to your stomach. Maybe not butterflies, so much as they were wasps. Big, anxious wasps, at the idea of being in such close proximity with your best friend. What if this was the night that three foot meant fuck all? Maybe you could actually have his arms around; keep him closer for longer, not just a brief hug or a quick touch. This could be it now.

You heard the water shut off and there was a brief shuffling. A few moments later, Obi-Wan exited the bathroom. He'd opted for sweatpants too, but no shirt. Your instincts said to look away, but you couldn't. Hell, you didn't even care that you looked like a creep, watching him as he crossed the room. Obi-Wan barely even noticed, simply placing his boots by the door and climbing into bed beside you. You could feel the heat off his body beside you, arms just inches from touching.

"Was the shower okay?" you asked, eager to break the silence that had once again formed. "I've been having problems with...with my hot water."

"Why are you nervous?"

You blinked. "I'm not nervous."

"Yes, you are," Obi-Wan replied. "You always ramble when you're nervous, and I've never heard you talk about something as boring as how well your shower is working."

"Right," you murmured. "Sorry."

"That still doesn't answer my question," he pushed. "Why are you nervous? It's me, sweetheart."

"Maybe that's exactly why I'm nervous," you muttered. "I'm not sure. I just...it's weird that you're shirtless in my bed."

"Oh," he seemed surprise. "That's okay. I can sleep on the sofa-"

"- no, no, it's fine," you quickly cut him off. "I just never really know what to do these situations, to be honest. When we've slept together before, I've always tried my best to stay on the other side of the bed but...I'm not so sure I want to do that tonight."

Obi-Wan stared blankly ahead for a moment. Okay, so that had been risky as fuck, and for a moment you felt yourself reeling, waiting for his reaction. To your surprise, there wasn't really one. Even when it was the most forward you'd been - without really being forward at all - he still stayed stoic as always. There was no visible response, just a quick blink and a small shrug.

"We're both cold from the rain," he reasoned. "It makes sense. I see no reason why we have to stay on opposite sides of the bed."

Much to your surprise, he was the one to move first. He shuffled onto his side, a large arm coming around your waist and the other snaking underneath you. He pulled you into him, hand guiding your head into his neck and tucking it below his chin. You were stiff for a second, but quickly relaxed - this felt right. Like it was meant to be.

You could faintly smell the remains of his aftershave, mixed with the smell of your shower gel. His skin was still warm from the shower.

(And maybe it was).

"Are you warmer now?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," you murmured. "Toasty."

He smiled. "Good - now get some sleep."

You knew the morning would come, and that Obi-Wan would have to leave; you knew even more that this might not happen again. Not unless luck was on your side and would happen to lump you together during a storm, or a black out. Or - and the more terrifying option - that you declared your love for him and this would be how every night was.

It was hard to know; hard to tell and predict, just like everything else in the galaxy. Still, you were grateful that Obi-Wan was your best friend, and even more grateful that you had tonight.

[uyuartik]

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

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

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

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

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

part one | part two | part three

enjoy!!!

word count: 19.7K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Strike one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

His smirking, twinkling eyes.

Strike two.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

===

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, apology accepted.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. You're the exception.” You laugh. “I haven’t- not here. I wouldn’t dare. Too little privacy. No trust. Above all, not a single soul that felt like a match of my own. Til I met you.” He deserves to hear that, right? “However I must say, the rules would be a little different here. Requires more caution. Fine work. For example, you couldn’t come and see me like this whenever you desire."

"Fair enough." He agrees, though makes little effort to follow the lesson. Actually, not even little, none. He just sits there, moulding into his chair further, a pleasant grin as he takes the world in, entertaining himself with the surrounding people. And you, of course. His piercing gaze travels back to you, every time.

Well, right. Not like you wanted him off of your table. "What do you want, Lord Kenobi?" And how did you know I would be here anyway? 

"Are you coming to the picnic on Saturday, in the Perlemian Park?"

You were certainly thinking about it. "Possibly."

"I'm only going if you are joining too." He wets his lips, an action you don't miss, and you continue to watch it long after he's done and see the next words coming out, before your brain can comprehend their meaning. "So, I'll need a better answer." 

The same lips that mapped out your entire body, whispered all those dirty things, tasted your hidden corners, drinking in the pleasure it provided…

He clears his throat, and you break out of the trance. He looks at you with a brow lifted, but the twinkles behind his blue eyes tell you it's not out of boredom. More like the exact opposite. 

"I'll be there." 

This is his cue to leave, with excitement for the said event, and a tinge of sadness for this interaction ending. You mirror his manners as he bids you a good day. 

Then, you're left alone, exactly as merely half an hour ago. Yet, the dessert in front of you is unsavory, nowhere near enough to satisfy your sweet tooth.  

It is still completely the same.

=== 

Comes Saturday, and does it come slower than possible… The weather seems like it's making one last show before the summer ends and scorches the earth, leaving everyone a sweating mess, little to no words coming out of their mouth, sprawled on the nearest surface. You seriously debate whether calling the offer off, the choice of fanning yourself to a lazy nap sounding better and better. It is in these extensive relaxations that you uncover the horrid truth- your fingers fell short in bringing you pleasure now, making you an even more sweaty, frustrated mess rather than the relaxed, drowsy mess you want to be. It is an awful revelation, bringing along many questions that haunt your every waking hour. You fear it's got something to do with him- and the best prescription for you is to stay away.

Alas, you keep true to your promise and show up. 

Thankfully the air has calmed down on said day, and sorbets are refreshing, making it more than a bearable experience. Bearable is actually an insult in this case, for it is more than that. These people are some of your oldest friends, close to your age, and share your opinions. It is hard not having fun when you are allowed to be free (just a little more than normal, though it is enough). None cares about the obscene gossip, or juices of fruit staining faces, dripping onto the expensive fabrics you all are adorned in. Laughs are loud and constant, never letting three minutes go without them. Hands are all flying around, hitting each other as a joke, reaching for the last piece of cake, taking the very dangerous road back without spilling a drop of the drink (which is, once again, a target of pranks).

Obi Wan enjoys it as much as you do, despite the fact that he doesn’t know them like you do. His life doesn’t allow much leisure time, and his choice of friends is mostly unfitting to these kinds of events, but he doesn’t have a problem finding joy in these kinds of events. Maybe it is mostly due to you, watching you in your nature, admiring the way you handle yourself among the crossfire of jokes, or what foods you prefer the most, making silly expressions as the taste of them hits just right. With every little thing he learns about you, he’s drawn closer to you. Once, he would name you a mystery, yet that would indicate the thrill was all in revelation. Now, it is the exact opposite. He gets more excited with each new question, like what is the actual story behind the “donkey joke” you are hinting at, or why do you pick some of the seemingly perfectly looking strawberries aside and pick others- or why you blush when you catch him looking at you, only to do the same yourself?

It is only in the afternoon that the buzz leaves its place for something serene. Conversations diminish, replies take longer, bodies sag and lean on the nearest surface, be the tree trunks or picnic baskets or their loved ones.

C’mon then, let’s take a walk. One proposes, and others follow, albeit slowly and with protests. You are among the latter, every cell in your body refusing to produce or use energy.

Maybe that’s one of the reasons you end up at the very back of the group with Lord Kenobi, and while you manage to stick with him unlike your friends, the distance between you and them grows and now, you can safely say that you’ve lost the sight of them. Twenty minutes ago.

So yes, you’ve been walking alongside him in silence. Far away that you don’t brush hands, yet so close that it would raise questions if someone were to see.

“I don’t think this is doing much for my somnolence.” He basically yawns.

"Should I take that as an insult, my Lord?" 

"Why would you- what did I say to make you think so?" He shakes his head, as stubborn as he's apologetic, ready to accept the accusation if your reasons are firm. Still, his heart is already pacing up, distressed. That must be the wine taking over.

"Well, am I not the only reason for your presence? And I must be boring you, if you are still feeling drowsy." 

"No- Absolutely untrue- “ He stutters, a panic to find the right words, not to be buried under your claims, he is not going to lose his chance to be by your side- only to realize the grin on your face too late.

"You little minx." He breathes out, and is rewarded by the sound of your tempting giggle. 

"Seems like I successfully rid you of your problem." You take pride. "And now, I suggest walking by the lake, to ensure its permeance."

"You mean to dip my feet in the water?" Again, he shakes his head, already rejecting the proposition.

"If you don't do it I shall." You skip, prancing like a nymph before he grabs you by the arm. 

“I don’t think that is safe.”

“It perfectly is.” You state, bewildered by his anxious urge. One look into his hand, and he remembers to let you go. The said hand flies to his hair, with an exasperated sigh.

“Okay, but – let me be by your side. And make it quick.”

The fact that he thinks you need his approval is downright funny, though you’d take issue with it any other time. Now, you are amused by his good intended worries and don’t have it in your conscience to break his heart over it, or bring up a quarrel.

So, you start undressing. Only your socks and shoes.

Still, the blush settles on his cheeks, and the light behind his eyes burns brighter as he sees the skin just above your knees naked. Not for the first time- still, he feels like turning his back on you, but does no such thing. And that is not because it defeats the purpose of his presence.

God, how could you even make you believe he wasn’t planning on having these impure thoughts?

You feel your temperature rising, and it has nothing to do with the sun. You meet his hypnotized eyes, and can still feel it focused on you. After days of dissatisfaction, its effect is multiplied by ten, making your heart race. You pray none of it is visible on your face. the last thing you need is for him to know.

He laughs when you lay the white fabric in the old woods of the docks, like the spoiled child you are. It is more than likely to stain, but more importantly, it is definitely old, creacking under every step, hence his aversion to sit beside you with a head shake. You shrug in return, and pull your skirt slightly above your knees, swinging your legs back and forth.

“Oh, this is lovely!” You say, sprawling your toes in the water. “Truly, you are missing out.”

“I believe you, my Lady.” His tone is joyful, just the right combination of trust and mockery.

You turn to look at him, a big mistake. The excess part of your dress brushes the surface, wetting the fabric, though it is the last thing you care. He is looking at you, with that charming grin, and subtle hunger etched into his gaze, screaming worship, in complete awe of the scene he's beholding, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, holding his hand, her dress bunched up like in those ancient paintings of fairies, and endless passion for the leading role of it. It swirls the emotions deep inside your belly, the only reaction you want to avoid. Yet, you’re not immune to it. your heart skips a beat, the tingles overtaking your skin.

“Look- I see fishes!” You whip your head, the one thing you can do in hopes of breaking the tension. You lean forward, trying to get a clear view, or try to do so because you are stopped by his grip.

“That’s enough.” The command sends a shiver down your spine. “You shouldn’t go any further.”

“Fine.” You huff, the simplest protest you can manage. His touch softens as he realizes you’re going to follow his words, though takes long to let go.

A few minutes pass in the silence of nature.

“How long are you going to stand like this?” You ask, exasperated that this isn’t going anything like you imagined.

“What?”

“I feel like I’m also standing, this is hardly fun.”

“That is only the result of your own choice.”

Narrowing your eyes, you huff and climb back on your feet, disregarding the objections of the offended dock. Then, you push past him- 

He suddenly pulls you back, promptly disrupting your balance, a tactic he uses to pick you up into his arms. You scream as your feet meet the air, hands grabbing anything they can reach which ends up being his clothes.

“What are you doing?!” You yell, burying your fingers into him. With how strong your grip is, you can feel every muscle tensing under your touch. 

“I’m not gonna let you walk in that mud, after all.” He explains like it was the problem you were referring to.”

“My shoes! – and-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get them.”

He adores the pout you have as he fetches them.

He leans his back on the tree, and you rest your arms on your knees, propped up.

“So, we are to sit here and sulk?”

“If you name it so.” His smile is borderline insulting, ear to ear. With one look, he points at the reason- your wet feet. There’s literally no choice but to wait for them to dry up. But by proposing the only solution, he infuriates you further.

“Very interesting.” You snark. “I would’ve just stood back if I knew this was what we would be doing.”

“And now it is I who might take those words as an insult. Have I somehow proven my companionship to be loathsome in the times we spent together?”

Times you spent together… The flashbacks are, as implied in their name, flash before your eyes at such great speed that by the time you realize it is not something you should ponder upon now, your heart rate is already up, the flame deep in your belly ignited once again, and even the sounds of the past are echoing in your ears. You turn your head away from him, cursing at the color blooming on your cheeks.

Oh, but the action is enough to let him know exactly what you are feeling, a song of “I thought so” on his tongue- yet he doesn’t sing it yet, realizing the underestimation of his own emotions. He brings it upon himself- a glance at you, taking in your red face (as much as possible) and bare legs, let out to the sun to dry up.

“Well, I’ll think that’s the case if you don’t say anything.” He opts to say this instead, loving to taunt you further. 

“It’s not.” You mumble, still turned to the other side, fingernails digging at your palm.

“I can’t hear you, dear.”

“I said-“

The moment you move your head, you are met with his face, so close to yours, a distance he promptly closes by placing a hand at your neck, and tugging at it, ‘til your lips crash. You lose your balance once more, gripping his collars to not fully crush him with your weight. You gasp, the only protest you have in yourself, because for all your resolve to stay away, here you are, falling right into his arms. And it feels so damn good.

You gasp, pushing him. He laughs as his back hits the tree, never once breaking eye contact.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You whisper-scream, suddenly aware of the fact that while you are all alone on this field, your friends are still very much around.

“Oh, what am I doing? It is you, darling, don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you were looking at me.”

You direct your gaze to the ground, embarrassment getting the better of you.

“What is it?” He questions your lack of defiance. “You had no problem before. Don’t tell me you’re scared of being seen. They should at least be like, a mile away.”

Yeah. That’s absolutely correct. Besides, you’re shielded from any unwanted visitors by the thick line of trees, and the sheer distance between there and the path. It is a secluded corner of the lakeside.

“Or is there something else that’s bothering you?” This, is said in a more suggestive tone, and its effect is only amplified by the way he holds your chin to refocus your attention. You burn under his grasp and insistent watch.

Say farewell to your pride.

You let yourself fall over him once more, kissing him with a whimper you can’t quite suppress. You feel his smirk at that, but neither of you dwells on it, for he too lets out a sound of desperation, panting as he pulls you close, placing you on his thigh. (You hear your dress positively rubbing against the grass, and dare not to imagine the green blotch that may appear.) You don’t know whether to celebrate your newfound closeness or chastise your weak will, for it creates a new wave of desire in you as you delve your fingers into his beard. Your skin lights up against his coarse hair, so familiar yet so unyielding under your touch, and to be holding his face in your hands like this only blinds you more. So blind that you only realize the movement of your hips, seeking pleasure, when he holds them.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about.” A kiss right on the left corner of your lips. “Are you haunted by that night so deeply that you are unable to satisfy your needs on your own, like me? Or hell, with another?” Even in the midst of haze, you don’t miss the way his eyes darken at the mention of a third party.

“No- only you.” You whisper, too afraid of things ending.

“Fuck.” He can’t help but burst at your surrender. “That’s my girl. Lift your hips a little for me, darling.”

You oblige without question, raising yourself on your trembling thighs. Holding your breath, imagining all the things he can do to you… He is bewitched by your neediness, the way you moan at the first contact his hand makes with your skin after lifting your skirt just above your knees so you have more freedom to move, and can directly sit on his thigh.  

Speaking of it, why? Your eyebrows scrunch as he pushes you down like that, though the actual questioning part comes a second after your clit rubs against the fabric, not his cock, the first jolt of true ecstasy you experienced in a while, but that can’t be the case for him, right? “What are you-?”

“Trust me.” He takes his sweet time to relish the expense of your neck, so close for his taking, partly to ease your nerves, and frankly it is too much fun for his own good to feel you twitch in anticipation, and your breath getting stolen away at his open-mouthed kisses, panting when he lingers on a spot for too long at the fear of him leaving a bruise. “No marks, I perfectly remember.” He has to confess after a point, and only after that point, you begin to truly relax, and have your heart beating so fast at the same time, noticing your wetness is positively seeping into his clothes.

Your jaw hangs open with a silent pant as he decides it’s enough, and guides your body, rocking onto his. It’s not something you haven’t done before, but there’s something so unique about now, maybe the scandalous location, or your depraved state, or simply everything regarding him, that you are convinced it looks like your first time. Shit, it may even be your first time, considering the previous examples are nowhere close to this, the stakes, the desperation, the payoff… You’re holding onto his shoulders like a fucking virgin, pressed so close to receive every bit of affection he's giving. It’s the damn heat, the greatest excuse on your lips for the last couple of weeks, invalidated by the nonexistence of space between you and him. It only causes sweat to pour out of both of you, like the constant drip out of your cunt, sabotaging all your attempts to gain control, and create the slightest of frustration. 

“Obi Wan.” You chant his name, unable to form any other word, and he drinks it all in, valiantly ignoring the ache in his cock. It is a hard task, a growing challenge as your knee brushes against it from time to time, especially when you try to take initiative and escape the rhythm he’s trying to create.

“Ah-ah-ah- Let me take over. You know we’re short on time, darling.”

Then, he does justice to his words as he bounces his leg, the added pressure claiming a gasp from you.

“Do that again.” What your efforts can't get you, maybe your pleads can. After all, you're just as stubborn as him, giving up easily is not on your book.

“Only because you asked so nicely.”  

You roll your eyes, though it is totally due to annoyance, and let out a moan, throwing your head back. The fresh air does nothing for your lungs anymore, just an outlet for your scandalous noises. Which, he has no complaints too, your erratic breaths warmed his neck enough, and blessed him with those sweet sounds, right under his ear. Oh, but in any other case, this was anywhere else, and he had to silence you, also which he has no complaints too. Perhaps the sole problem is missing the blissed out expressions of your pretty face, and the light in your eyes, burning for him.

“Are you close?” Like he even needs to ask, like he’s not aware of your moans turned whimpers.

“Hmmh.” Is all the answer he gets, and that’s enough for him, laughing quietly, as you feel the vibrations of his chest.

When you cum, it is indeed an earth-shattering moment, and an end to your misery, the first drop of water after thirst- so much so that you don’t care about it happening in such a short time. Your legs squeeze his firm thigh, shaking over them like the rest of you. His one hand travels to your waist, holding you steady and pressed against him. You swear you can feel every aspect of his hand over three layers of fabric, yet he’s not actually exerting that much power, treating you like a delicate flower, afraid to crush the silky petals.

You sigh as the trembles die down, your senses coming back to you one by one- the first and foremost the tension in the body beneath you. Your fingers loosen from his collars, and travel the expanse of his torso slowly, a kiss to his throat in the meantime.

“Don’t you worry about me.” His voice is slightly shaky, though it may very well be due to his exertion.

“I think I should.” Its trueness is further proven when you palm him, and he groans. Though he is insistent.

“Look at you, you sweet thing, concerned with me walking around with a hard-on.”

That has you rolling your eyes, and removing your hand. Removing your entire body, even. You settle on the grass, leaning on your elbows. Your dress is already ruined, so you’re past the point of worrying.

“On the other hand, you may want to think about this.” He points to his wet trousers, the dark stain visible even though the fabric is black.

Uh oh. That is indeed a problem, if you are to return soon. Unfortunately, your brain can’t grasp the danger, coming up with solutions like soaking him entirely in the lake… 

So, it’s no wonder that your next words are a joke.“You marked me, I marked you. We're even.”

To your surprise, it works. His laughter fills the entire forest, yours a whisper in comparison. The idea that maybe, just maybe this can be repeated every now and then, that it wouldn't harm anyone fills your chest with a different kind of cheer, a hopeful sensation that suits the summer. He's proven his carefulness, making the best of the situation without risking either of you. The rising hope in you should scare you, but it doesn't. It only makes you sprawl under the sun like a cat enjoying the heat, and join his laughter with a big grin.

“Fair. Absolutely fair.”

===

The next time you see each other again, things seem to cool down a bit. It is entirely a civil dinner, always at a respectable distance, the number of times you lock eyes are countable on one hand (though some border the edge of being a little too long), and it is all not so surprisingly, plain. Maybe it is about both of you trying to contain one’s self, so much so that the other core aspect of both of you, the humorous side is buried that night and no other person can live up to its ghost. Perhaps it is due to the upcoming end of summer, bringing out a tinge of melancholy, already mourning the past, thus your impulses dwindle down, the sparkles absent.

That is, ‘til, you are the only occupants in the saloon, after the other guests have left, and your aunts retreated to their rooms. You are reading a book, barely aware of the fact when he, sitting next to you in that single armchair drops whatever pen he’s holding, just by your feet. You’re pulled out of your trance by the sound it creates, raising your gaze from the page just in time to see him bending over to retrieve it or- ending up completely kneeling in front of your legs.

He raises his head, and you watch the way his face softly being illuminated by the candlelight, a smile you can’t decide whether charming or devilish, long abandoning his mission.

That’s the moment the air shifts, and the room feels hotter like the cheminee is lit, the heat wave has returned, and taken both of you to that lakeside, and the week before it, the frustration and despair that came with being unable to take care of yourself. You haven’t felt such a thing after, perhaps, it’s due to your fulfilled state and therefore lack of trial, but now, the need returns, like adding more to an already full cup, realization only hitting after the drops spill from the sides. The cup demands to be emptied, - translation: your soul demands whatever pleasure you can get your hands on- and the image of him causing it is certainly a preference.

(Again, it is your soul that’s demanding it- your brain would very much like to lock you away in the furthest corner of this house, or kick him, if that’s all you can manage.)

“Excuse me?”

“I just remembered how I failed to say how beautiful you look tonight.” 

“Thank you.” Your mouth speaks before you can protest the improperness of your situation. Color settles on your cheeks for accepting his compliment first. “What are you doing?”

“Collecting my pen.” He shrugs, and demonstratively takes it to his hand, yet it is once more left to the ground instead of the nearest table, with the rest of his papers. He adds, “I admire how you are an expert in navigating every social situation, whether it's a boring dinner like this, or a ball.

Your eyebrows raise at the boring part, after all, it's hosted by your relatives, and it wasn't exactly boring, maybe a little uneventful. “Not every occasion has to be full of adventure, Lord Kenobi. Slow nights like this are beneficial for the soul. Gives the mind some rest.” 

He purses his lips, like he’s been told on his bluff, the one part he emphasized to sound strong. Because, he is. He had fun tonight, the type that fills one’s heart with sweet lethargy. “I suppose you’re correct. But you’re missing out on an important detail.”

“And what is that?”

“The right company.”

You’re glad that your hands were pressing against the book, holding the page, because if they weren’t, they would be visibly shaking.

“I have underestimated how much I missed you, that much is clear to me now.” Barely speaking, or barely speaking anything important with you throughout the evening, yet he feels rejuvenated, the ache in his chest becoming prominent as it starts the heal. He doesn’t say the last part, but the sentiment is reflected in the soft sparkle behind his eyes, the hypnotic storm, pulling you towards unknown chaos, but beautiful, and promising safety in its center. That’s why you don’t protest as his hand reaches for yours, brushing your knee (he wanted to do that for some time, to feel the soft fabric that basically decorates your body), interlocking fingers, and reluctantly retreating them in favor of taking the book that sits in your lap, setting it aside. You don’t protest, despite the screams in your head, saying he’s right there why is he still there-

 “And the other thing I missed terribly, the sight of your legs.”

Your shaky inhale echoes.

His fingers gently close over your ankles, and travel upwards slowly, lifting your dress alongside. “Though I’ve only seen them twice, they might be my favorite view, ever.”

“Is that so?” You are perplexed by the confession, with a lazy grin, very much enjoying the seduction. His way with words seems like a constant threat to your sanity, but damn do you adore it dearly, a voluntary victim to its spell.

“Why would I ever lie to you?” He whispers, hands tightening. “I like them very much. But I think I would like them better around my shoulders.” He pulls your knees slightly, causing you to yelp as your back caves in, and grasps your ankles once more, proceeding to demonstrate exactly his words.

“What are you doing?” You ask, like you don’t know the answer. It is a statement, an acknowledgment, the last chance to bring some sense into any of you. You’re in the living room, in a house that is not your own, filled with people who are still very well awake, and can just decide to come in.

“Having a second dessert, if I may?” And how can you refuse, after the image is served to you on a golden plate?

“But at the lake - You were-” 

“You think I'm doing this for recompensation?”

“No, I didn't mean to imply that.” God, this is embarrassing. “I just wanted to say I might miss having my way with you.”

“I’ll be glad to take that as a promise.”

Then, it is settled. 

Still, he waits for your small nod and takes in the way you bite your lip, wishing he was the one to do so, but- priorities. Time is a valuable asset, especially now, and he has to honor his offer. That’s why he opts for a few small, open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, actively fighting the desire to leave bruises, evidence, a memory. Judging by the rapidness of your breath, it seems he has reached his goal in some way. It’s the beard- scratching your skin even when his mouth is not doing something, sensitizing the flesh and making it all too susceptible to the incoming assault. Your hand flies up, absentmindedly reaching for his hair, yet stopping a second before, landing on the couch instead- if you messed up his hair, there’s no coming back from it. He chuckles at your struggle, the warm breath making you squirm. Even if you don’t, he’s maddened by action, despite the laugh. He has you- but not really. He’s enveloped in your heat, taking in your scent, and seconds away from tasting you, but is not able to be blessed with the slight pain he'd felt if you tugged on his strands, or the untamed sounds you’d have sung in a more private setting.

So yes, he’s as torn and desperate as you. Slow nights, you said? 

Truth be told, it doesn’t matter what adjective comes before the word; slow or fast, boring or exciting as hell, freezing or hellishly hot; if it is with you, it is a good night. Otherwise, it is lacking. The world may be painted gray forever, considering you two mostly don’t get the chance to spend more than two occasions together in a week, but there can be no comparison to colorful scene of those moments.

And this is the night Obi Wan admits that fact.

You both moan, when his tongue finally meets your cunt, licking a messy stripe. It is more of a vibration than a noise- possibly for the best. It makes you jolt, and his hold tightens, and again, it is for the best, because when he decides to pay attention to your clit after his time exploring your folds is done, your limbs start to shake, threatening to fall. Your eyes roll back when things settle, and pleasure starts to build up, your juices flowing, and he drinks it all in before they have the chance to make a mess of your dress.

That is the first time he takes a break. “Eyes on me, darling.”

What is with him and that special request?

Your whine doesn’t mean anything to him, except make his cock twitch in his now tight trousers- but that has other reasons too. He waits ‘til your eyelids open once more, and you meet his gaze, and a second longer, unable to resist the urge to get lost in your hazy expression. Then, he dives back in, swirling the muscle around your bundle of nerves. In any other circumstance, you’d have thought this would be too indelicate, so straight to the point, no fun or respect, yet his way to do so is anything but those qualities. His movements are precisely designed for you, slow enough to not cause discomfort, fast enough to make the best of your unknown time limit. You’re afraid to deduce that one time was enough for him to learn you, one time to turn your world upside down, and leave you to deal with the memory of it. 

“Sweetie?” That’s the first time your eye contact is broken. The world freezes for a second before it does, and your head whips to the direction the sound has come from, to find your aunt by the door. Miraculously, she continues to stand there, unbothered by the long and protective distance which compromises of the dining table and the back of your couch, a perfect cover for the scandal that is taking place. Obi Wan stills, perhaps even stops breathing, yet he’s the one to snap you out of your shock with his grip around your skin. It is ridiculously encouraging, knowing he's not abandoning you on your own, even at the expense of getting caught, and the dread it would surely follow.

“Yes, auntie?” You gulp. Trying not to sound breathless is a clear effort.

“Have you seen Lord Kenobi?”

Your reputable smartness lags, the answer of yeah, he’s right here IN BETWEEN MY LEGS, occupying your mind.  “I think he went out to get some air, I haven’t seen him for some time.”

“How odd.” She comments, “And what are you doing there on your own?”

“Reading my book.” You smile, and hope your cheeks’ tremble isn’t too noticeable. “It’s quite good- couldn’t tell the time.”

She scorns. “Oh, now I see- he must’ve gotten bored as you were buried in your book. You truly should work on your guest etiquette, dear. And Lord Kenobi, of all people!”

“Auntie!” Your eyes widen, and you squeal a little, and feel Obi Wan giggling quietly.

“I’m just saying, that you should treat him better- he’s a good person, and obviously fancies you.”

“Auntie!”

“I mean, I like him? Don’t you like him?”

The urge the scream has never been stronger.

To escape the subsequent questions should you answer otherwise, you give in, and sag.” I do.” And the worst thing is, you actually do. Objectively, you like him, all his little jokes and sweet tongue (no pun intended), the elegant form he carries himself in, and the kind nature he never fails to live up to. Except for the dangerous extent your relationship is getting into, there’s nothing about him that you don’t like. And truthfully, even that is barely a matter you care about, proven by your current situation. 

You can feel him smile, the coarse facial hair biting into your skin, rubbing like a cat, and the sensation is followed by a kiss on your thigh. 

“Then you know what I am saying is the truth.” She raises her eyebrows in a motherly manner, a loving attempt of intervention. “Don’t stay up too late, no matter how absorbing that book is. We are invited for breakfast to the Mon’s Estate.”

Thankfully, she’s gone like that, saving you the act.

When you turn to your front again you find the need to come up with a warning to make him shut up unnecessary for he kisses you, silencing both of you. The action brings color to your cheeks more than ever in this entire evening. The fact that you can taste yourself on his tongue aside, he’s so gentle about it, like congratulating your success, or admiring your talent, pouring out his affection for you. You can’t help but wrap your legs around his wide torso, it is how good it feels. When you two part, the lack of breath gets the best of you, only then do the swarming butterflies in your stomach begin to disturb you again.

But you’re not so quick to forget the last couple of minutes. Perhaps you've spoken too soon back then at the lake, thinking this could be continued. You’d imagined the rest of this scene a little differently, letting him follow you to your room, returning the favor, but that scare has only helped you to brew a storm inside you.

“Obi Wan…” You whisper, brows cinched in concentration as he towers over you, claiming all your senses. “We can’t- we have to stop…”

“Sshh, calm down.” His thumb draws circles on your skin, trying to soothe you in one aspect, if not every. He’s not going to let you go to your bed shaken like this, for starters. “Take a deep breath.”

You try, twice before you can manage to fill your lungs in their entirety, and your achievement is rewarded with a peck to your neck. Some of the air leaves you in an abrupt exhale because of it, and he curses himself for it.

“Follow my lead.” He tries again, reclining on his knees, giving you space. It is another challenge to look into his ocean eyes, and match his pattern, but you manage, your heart beat semi-regular after a minute or so.

Semi, for said eyes and your bare pussy are face to face, and all common sense loses its importance, burned by the fire inside you.

“Obi Wan- please…”

“You sure?” He will be very disappointed if you change your mind, but he has to ask, play the sensible part. And ignore the constant throb in his trousers that has become even more unbearable after you confessed your feelings.

“Just… make it quick.” Oh, are you seriously requesting an orgasm like ordering a cake in a café?

“As you wish, love.”

He starts out the same, just playing his game a little faster, and he holds your hand as he does so, the small detail as efficient as his moves. But, the final blow is his other hand, prodding against your entrance. The flood of memories doesn’t help either, as you remember that night. A loud moan threatens to leave you, and you slap your palm against your mouth. He stops ‘til you are secured, praise in his eyes, and pushes the two digits in, stretching you out in the way. Your fingers are nothing in comparison, and he notices it immediately, the way your walls hug him. 

Though, he’s an expert, and can absolutely manage to take care of you properly, so there’s nothing but pleasure, your slick channel welcoming the intrusion. It is not long before he feels the resistance fading and returning in a new form, as your climax approaches, and your muscles begin to quiver.

With your noises secured in your throat, the only form of communication is your connected hands, squeezing each other sometimes enough to risk breaking fingers. He understands what you mean perfectly, reaching up to a certain speed, then keeping it the same ‘til you start trashing, legs violently shaking around his body, and juices dripping, this time more than he can clean up. If any other time, he wouldn’t stop ‘til he feasted on every drop of it, but he withholds himself, respecting the clouds of danger. He’s glad to have helped with your anxiety, yet he doesn’t want to carry the ease to dangerous level and make you susceptible to be swayed in whatever direction.

Well, the image of his messy, wet beard certainly sends you through the wrong one, but already your nerves are not able to take more risks tonight, so you just bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, and lower your legs to the ground as he starts by cleaning out his fingers. It is hard to believe any man would try this much to indulge in your every aspect, but here he is, careful about even the smallest part.

Damn, you want to take him to your room and let him have his way with you so bad- but this is enough adventure for a night.

“Good night, Lord Kenobi.” You say, fixing your skirt, and standing up on shaky legs with your book clutched in the tightest grip against your belly.

“Good night, darling.” He nods, a content smile. “Send my compliments to the chef. “

===

“Lord Kenobi?”

You’re justified in your shock, enough to express it out loud in the middle of the jewelry shop, the last place you’d expect to run into him. Of course, he’s a neat and subtle man, and his appearance reflects his statue, though in a very calculated yet effortless manner. His pocketwatch is a family heirloom, so you’ve been told, a chic piece he takes great care of, and while his cufflinks are always elegant, it is never that eye-catching. It only compliments its wearer, you dare say, a final addition to an already completed painting.

(You never denied his handsomeness, and this is an objective opinion. Don’t read much into it.)

His supposed loneliness coupled with the fact that he looks utterly lost and bored, your curiosity is aggravated further.

Also, bumping into each other? What is this, a trick of fate?

“Madame.” He bows, and moves to press a kiss to your hand, the tradition not forgotten. His shock is easily ridden, unlike yours. The small blush on his cheeks and the wide grin on his lips tell contradictory stories, not that you’re judging, but the evident thing is his excitement.

“What are you doing he-”

“What a coincidence-“ His interruption is most unexpected, along with the high pitch in his voice.

You tilt your head, further dazed, but before the suspicion creeps in (you would be terrified to turn your gaze and find women’s accessories laid out for his picking on the table, for somebody else or for you; the latter being the lesser evil, but still disturbing), another joins, though he doesn’t seem to notice you at first.

“How helpful you are being, Obi Wan!” The tall young man with light brown hair calls out, necklaces hanging from both hands. You have a feeling that if he wasn’t busy, there would’ve been a physical reaction as well, a friendly pat on his shoulder, perhaps. “Don’t you know this is important? I need-“

His sentence is broken when he catches your attentive gaze, and realizes you are a part of this conversation as well. You’re amused by how glass-like he is, full of emotions and not afraid to show them. He looks at you, and back to Obi Wan, who finally decides it’s time for an introduction. The expression of recognition flashes through his face in a second as your name is revealed, but you can’t reflect it back fully. You have heard of Kenobi’s best friend or as some call it, brother, although barely from the man himself. You've witnessed how Kenobi's eyes lighten up with pride whenever Skywalker was mentioned, and stories- summaries of their adventures together that he told. The shortness of them wasn't a result of his unwillingness to tell them, but the circumstances of your company, never long or alone enough to visit them in their deserved entirety. 

To be honest, Anakin doesn't know much about you either. He and Padme prefer the countryside by the sea, especially during the summer, thus he and Obi Wan hadn't had the means to talk often lately. He senses the situation, by the slight tension in the older man's voice; this strong, confident man crumbling into pieces for some unknown reason. 

“Pleased to meet you, my Lady.” He makes a small cursty, which you mirror.  

“Likewise, Lord Skywalker.” 

“I’m afraid I’ll need my friend back to keep his promise.” The chains in his hands shake as he speaks, reminding the absurdity of it all. You’re not disturbed by it though, for all is concealed under his charismatic voice and mimics. He’s pretty and he knows it, which gives him all the tools to captivate others. Now you understand why people speak about him like that, moved by hearing his name alone.

“Oh, not a problem at all. We were just saying hello.” Entertained by the interaction, your anxiety is somewhat diminished, enough to let him go without an explanation. Also, the way that he rolls his eyes, and clenches his jaw is very cute, you dare say.

“Promise? I never promised anything.” He murmurs, but it is still audible for you as he follows his friend. And the rest, which makes you laugh whenever you remember it. “Anakin- she's your wife, you know her better than me. How exactly do you expect me to help you?”

“You always had a vision when it comes to beautiful things. Not like my eyes, which are only accustomed to the dirt and grease of machinery.”

You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to stop grinning, while you start talking with the salesman about the bracelet you’ve given them to restore. They make you sit and wait for a couple of minutes, all of which you spend trying to not spy on them. Fortunately, the shop is quite crowded, and their conversation is a part of the low grumble. A cup of tea is placed in front of you, as well as some new pieces they think you might like.

The one that catches your attention is not among them, however. It is a ring with a blue stone, the tone too similar to something you can’t put your finger on. It is too big to be for a woman, clearly designed for the other sex, but you admire its elegance nonetheless.

“Here is your piece, Madame.” The young salesman returns with a package, just in time to stop you from reaching it.

“Thank you.” You take the precious item back into your hands and inspect the handwork. It is shining once again, polished, and the place you accidentally broke it is now attached, the handwork barely visible.

You release a deep breath, praying graces. You would’ve never forgiven yourself if the family heirloom was forever damaged from the incident. You almost cried when it happened, a stupid game you were playing with Carolina before a ball, when you had already gotten ready and she was counting the minutes to her bedtime.  

“That is beautiful.” Obi Wan joins you once more, now looking more relaxed. Your eyes search for Anakin and find him waiting for a package, reaching for his wallet. Mission accomplished. “May I?”

The chain slides into his hands, and wraps around your wrist under the watch of the young boy with a wholesome smile. He must think you two are engaged in some way, and there’s no turning back from it.

“Would that be all, Madame?”

“Actaully I-“ You remember about the ring, and even if you just want to unravel the mystery around it, the words have already left your mouth, and the entire tray is placed on the table.

Oh. Oh. With him next to you, suddenly it all makes sense. You’re holding the color of his eyes on your palm.

“That is beautiful too.” He remarks, embracing his role a little too much.

“I think it would suit you.” Now it is your turn to accessorize him. He is silent while you do so, taken aback by the unorthodoxty of it all.

“I’m not sure-“ Is all he manages to say, though can’t stop looking at it. It is ridiculously so well fitted around his finger, the fate pulling all strings to give a message.

“It compliments your eyes.” You defend yourself, perhaps a little too lively but you have no shame. It is the truth.

“The Lady is correct.” The boy joins your side, or does his job. “It is a most excellent match.”

“I might think about it.” Is how far he budges, returning it, and checking up on Anakin from where he’s standing. 

“How much do I owe you?”

“Please, allow me-“

The audacity? The though is reflected in your face, which makes him blush at his unnecessary offer.

“With the ring.” You add, and it is all said and done ‘til he has time to get rid of his embarrassment and intervene.

Then, you make him take the package from you, your fingers wrapping around his. “You’re allowed to have nice things, you know?” There’s not an ounce of sarcasm in your tone, only gentle suggestion. “You don’t have to wear it, but I want you to have it.”

“Thank you.”  

And you’re gone before Skywalker can catch up.

===

You truly don’t expect to see him wearing it, you really don’t.

But you’re proven wrong so, so badly.

He doesn’t take it off.

When he takes on his promise, and actually starts working on the ball he’s supposed to throw, the first thing he does is request for your uncle’s help. Then your uncle entrusts the job on you, and you’re spending hours with him like that, securing the musicians, bargaining for the food supplies, preparing invitation lists… Truly, that’s it. You too are surprised to accompany him that much and engage in nothing outside of the mission. Truthfully, a little concerning in the grand scheme of things, the inevitable result of your relationship improving, real sincerity. Although you have zero problems with the fact, enjoying it far too much. You don't care about how your contributions are secret, for your efforts surpass the limits of help that are considered friendly, and fully acknowledge that it is gonna be a damn good ball. 

Also, while you hate to see him distressed, it is a look on him that you are guilty of adoring. The nervousness is like a little crack in his shell, a way to see a part of him that rarely sees the daylight. And it is for something so feeble? Only half of his effort would be enough for a wonderful ball, and he still tries to do more, and gets agitated over that? You are cruel for laughing at that, you confess. But it is more of a balancing act, rather than a mock. Somebody's gotta play the sane part, lower the tension. 

You're ready to help with that, too.

“Do you think I should hire-” 

You're at his study, the place you've been sitting since the morning. Time flies with every cup of tea, and plates of biscuits, but after a while, things inevitably get boring. For you, at least. He's quite focused, brows scrunched, tie slightly loosened. You see him looking at the list that you've put together in the beginning, the possible ways to entertain his guest. 

You've already arranged the services of more than half of them. Twice the amount that would be considered enough.

And he's still going over it?

“That's enough!” Your open palm lands on the surface. 

Obi Wan doesn't expect your outburst. He doesn't flinch, but his mimics change in an equivalent way. His lips part, causing him to relax that clenched jaw -oh, you might have a point. 

“You. Need. To. Relax.” You’re now less frantic, due to his irresistibly clueless expression, though still firm in your cause. Fuck, how can he look at you with those doe eyes and expect you to… do anything! 

You get up, and reach for the papers, sending them in a far corner of the desk. While you do so, you are basically halfway in between him and the table. Putting the teacups and the pot back on the tray (it has grown cold a long time ago), you turn to him, almost sitting at the desk in order to fit that narrow space. The bashful smile on his face (as if he wasn’t enjoying the perfect view of your ass seconds before) breaks your heart once more.

Putting your hand on his shoulder, you mirror his emotion. “It’s gonna be a splendid night. The kind that people will talk about it for years. And I’m not exaggerating on that one. I would’ve said the same thing days ago, all before the last additions, too.”

It is a challenge to feel the warmth of your skin, and not lean against it. “You’re right.” He tugs on his collar, taking a deep breath. “But you know- I’ve never planned a ball in my life, and- I just need it to be perfect.”

You giggle, and replace your hand on his cheek that is colored with the confession of his little perfection obsession. You welcome the slight sting of his beard, like a habit, and caress his cheekbone. He dares not move, or even take a breath, only watching your pretty face focused on his, and relish the feeling of your thumb across his features.

“It’s going to be just that.”  You might’ve said, or a joke about his troubles, but words scurry off of your mind as you stay like that, squished in place as you try your best to comfort him.

“Can you kiss me?” The thought seems lunatic when uttered on a whim, but it has crossed your mind too, you must admit. 

“Only because you asked so nicely.” There's an undeniable urge to use his words back at him. 

Your back has to bend in an uncomfortable way for your lips to touch, but you have no complaints about it. The touch is so soft, laden with affection in the purest kind. It is obvious in every way, the movement of your mouths, determined to preserve the sweetness and sweetness alone, and the itch in your palms, mapping each other out over and over again, and the determination of your lungs, using every last drop of oxygen before demanding an exchange. 

“T-thank you for that, dear.” His eyes open after a few seconds, with a sheepish smile that causes him to speak in whispers.

It’s about to get real dangerous for you, if he keeps being this cute. 

“I’m not about to say we should've done it sooner, for it is a complete waste of our time repeating a truth well known, and I've already used that trick before, but maybe we should do it again.” 

Okay, but how does that kind of sass sound cute from your perspective?

“Don't push your luck.” You say, fingers smoothing his hair, and his complaint dies on his throat visibly. He purrs, eyelids closing. That's the moment you decide to press a small peck to his lips for all his troubles. It lasts longer than intended, and while it's definitely different than the previous one, him gripping your waist telling a different story. The weight of them is welcome nonetheless, and it serves as an anchor, like you two could be molded into a statue if he held it long enough.

However, he is the one to break the stillness, shifting in his chair- first of all, how dare he, you're doing the acrobatics here-

Oh.

He notices that you've noticed it. Clearing his throat, Obi Wan lets his hands slide to the table, just a centimeter away from your body. “It’s been some time.” His face remains focused on the floor.

Didn't he even take care of himself?

You push his shoulder back, and he takes it a step further without a blink, sliding away with his chair. 

What he doesn't expect, is for you to stay exactly where you are, only this time on your knees. He has to gulp once, then twice, because he finally looks at your face, smiling back at him. 

“May I help?” Admittedly, your fluttering gaze was unnecessary, and tips him even more. You don't miss the way he stabilizes his hands.

“By all means.” 

You start by unfastening the buttons of his tan trousers, letting your forearms rest on his thighs. He aids your quests by lifting his hips a little, being freed from the constraints of the fabric-

There he is.

You bite your lip at the sight, and the sight is not just his huge cock, already hard and weeping for you. It is about him, and the redness that creeps up his neck, the way he hisses and bites his knuckles at the cool air hitting his sensitive skin, how he claws at the armrest waiting for your touch. His head nearly hits the back of the chair when you finally do, a small moan leaving his exposed throat.

Well. You really should’ve done this sooner.

Your thumb swirls around his head, more fluid leaking out as you do so. Thus your fingers slide down his shaft easily, and he is coated in his slick in no time, along with your palm. It twists around him without rush, leaving him to wander in that dream like state without mentioning a finish line. You want to ask him, ask him how he likes it, or make him cover your hand with his, guiding you, but you also want him to stay just like this, eyes fixed with that heavy lidded gaze, partially obscured by that infamous strand of hair that refuses to be tamed like others. His mouth hangs open with loud breaths and sometimes graces you with sounds of his pleasure.  

“Harder.” The only instruction you need.

You clasp tighter and shudder like him, taking pride in your work. He can feel the strain in his muscles fading second by second, the problems in his mind are plucked out one after the other, replaced by your soothing words you repeated constantly for days at this point, and expert hands, creating the same effect on his body.

“Like this, Lord Kenobi?” You require you still acquire his opinion, a feedback, and his title rolls off of your tongue unintentionally. Honestly, there’s no explanation you can make even to yourself, but you are already over it as his cock twitches under your palm, and his groan fills the room.

“Y-yes. You’re doing- so good.”

That must be some sort of karma, for he is above the concept of revenge, but you’re left with an itch to grind your legs together at his praise. If you do that, you’ll probably feel your wetness smearing all over your skin, you’re sure of it.

And you’re determined not to be distracted.

Your other hand joins the game too, starting to massage his balls. That makes him tense under you for a moment, but the tension dissolves quickly, leaving him dizzier.

“Fuck-“ Even the simplest swear word sounds hypnotizing on his lips, “you’re perfect. Don’t stop.”

Like you had any intention to do that.

On the contrary, your intentions evolve in the direction after his words, perhaps even a little bit further. You lean in and lick a stripe up his length, the tip of your tongue dancing around his head, fully tasting him, before you take him to your mouth fully.

His hand flies up, shaking as it comes down, held back by the strongest of wills from delving into your hair. Instead, it inches closer to your cheek, and returns to the position before (because he may have just lost five years of his life feeling the way you swallow him), half-stabilized over the armrest. His head rolls back once more, unashamed to release his moans with your every move. The most sinful one comes out when you use your throat, gagging around his thickness. You repeat it, and he whimpers, earning an equal sound from you too.

This time, you don’t have to ask him anything. The eye contact as you recover your breath, and continue to stroke him tells you everything you need to know, tells how much he enjoys it.

“Please- darling-“

You don’t try to choke on him again, but keep a rhythm with your tongue and your palm. He reaches climax quickly nonetheless, throbbing in your mouth and coating it white. Obi Wan feels sorry for not warning you, a sense of guilt rising alongside that pleasure, but it once again came over with lust as you gulp it down without a blink. He even fears he might go hard in a second, against all the rules of nature. You provoke that in all ways possible, pressing small kisses to his shaft, occasionally licking it, and letting your head rest on his thigh.

“Thank you.” It is so out of place to say that for this kind of act, but it is the sentence that is spoken, breaking the silence.

“You’re welcome, my Lord.” Thankfully, you raise your gaze just in time to miss the way his cock moves. You straighten your back and throw your shoulders back, stretching like you’ve just woken up.

So cute and so filthy.

“I’d like to return the favor.” He says, the action fueled only by his kind and generous soul.

“Some other time.” Your smile reflects the acknowledgment, not mocking his advances. “I am expected from home.”

“Ah, pity. Send my regards to your family.” He can’t help but feel envious of them. Do they know to treasure your company, not take a second of it for granted? Do they know what you did to him, before joining them? Would they be as accepting as ever, aware of your scandalous affairs?

Of course not.

But even then, you’d deserve much better than what they would treat you like. Your courage alone is enough to make the world bow down to you.

And what if your family means something other than your blood, your relatives? What if it was a stranger, a man undeserving, but had you to himself every night, when you returned home from your daily activities? A lucky fool who had the blessing of knowing you’d be by his side soon, every damn day.

His fingers turn into fists as you clean yourself up, so pretty in your ignorance to his gaze, brows slightly furrowed as you smooth out the wrinkles on your dress.

“Shall do.” And with your cheery voice, he doesn’t even notice his grip is unclenched.

===

Red isn’t his color. Some say it suits him well, that the stark contrast is eye-catching, but he doesn’t like to carry it. At this point of his life, it’s not even about his clothing choices, he prefers anything over that pigment in every possible scenario; the sheets, the carpets, the flowers… He makes a point of avoiding that powerful color.

Not today, though.

He has no word over how you dress and for once, tries very hard to stay neutral, not verbalize his choices when you mention the outfit you’ll be wearing in his ball, and it is a successful endeavor. (Knowing you and your stubbornness, it would probably only damage the bond between the two of you, something you’ll quip for years, or God forbid, keep you from attending at all.)

In the end, you wear it, and he ends up where he doesn’t want to be. Drowning in that bloody cloud. Without remorse, for the first time in his life.

For once, he finds himself chasing after it, taking joy in its liveliness, surrendering to the dangerous promises it makes. Your presence brings energy to every room you enter. The candles seem to burn brighter, and the warmth in his chest is not solely a result of both of your accomplishment of the spectacle. Obi Wan smiles ear to ear, eyes almost closed because of it, and he wants nothing more than to dance with you all night long, bury his hands in that expensive fabric and feel the burn in your cheeks, painted with the same color. He doesn’t even mean it in a perverse way. He wants to celebrate the payoff of your efforts, let the pride be felt, and enjoy the treats like all the guests, or even more than them (it would be more than fair to do so), together.

Alas, the society you both live in isn’t the type to accept such things. In order to not taint the event with the bitterness reserved for that principle, he doesn’t ask for more than six dances, or follow you around the saloon like a lost puppy. While it is never enough, he counts and cherishes the accidental eye contacts, and your hands holding his in dances, or the different circles you ran into each other and have snippets of various conversations. He accepts every compliment with your name tied behind his tongue and feels relieved with each passing hour, realizing how perfect everything is going, thanks to your pieces of advice and restrictions. He is light as a feather underneath all those layers he had to put on for the evening, without the pressing intention of taking it all off as soon as possible.

But, there are two sides to every coin, and here comes the other side, halfway through the night, the prejudice he had returning sinisterly.

He does a decent job of suppressing his jealousy, for all the purposes he’s thought of before. He can glance over when you dance with a stranger, or two, ricocheting on the stage and putting on a show for everyone. He chooses to admire the beauty you’re radiating, shining like a rose after the rain. It keeps him occupied for a while. But when an hour passes and you’re not even looking at his general direction, way too engulfed in your conversation with them, he feels a distaste rising in him. The red bleeds into his heart, poisoning him. It slowly takes over, and by the time you throw your head back with a burst of laughter that echoes in the room, he’s entirely filled with it. His hands twitch with every dream of ripping the source of that poison from your skin in a cove meant for just the two of you, away from all the vultures that eat and drink and savor his doings and yet ready to crucify him at his slightest flaw.

Obi Wan is one step away from sending everyone to their homes when you escort that man to the garden. Honestly, the only reason he doesn’t is because you return in a minute or two, the tip of your nose giving away all he needs to know- it’s chilly.

And he didn’t even give you his jacket?

On the second thought, it’s best that he didn’t, because then Obi Wan wouldn’t even bother to get rid of the crowd to have his way with him.

“Lord Kenobi.” You manage to catch him alone, on the balcony. He’s up there to calm his nerves, over you, unbeknownst to you. Unfortunately, his progress is lost the second he hears your voice, and it is truly an effort to act otherwise.

The night is on the brink of ruin for him, and it doesn’t have to be that way for you. This is why he tries so hard.

“I must congratulate you on this beautiful ball. It is a night to remember.”

“Don't say it like the honor doesn't belong to us both.”

You shrug, as if whisking all the credit away. But your eyes twinkle with pride. 

“I haven't had this much fun in ages,” You chirp,  “I would've begged for another one already, if I hadn't witnessed the toll it took on you.” He covers his face at the mention of the state he has been in for the last couple of weeks. “Oh God, don't.” 

“Oh God, you just didn't expose yourself like that! When will you start enjoying this?” Your laugh is a hidden giveaway of how many glasses you had tonight. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed for those who may inquire.” Your lips. Wrapped around his cock. Mapping out his neck. Keeping his secrets.  “Remember that every word that comes out of my mouth is said by a person who attended all types of feasts all over the continent for a decade now. I grew up around these circles.” Shrugging, you add. “Perhaps that was my undoing.”

“Undoing? I could never call you “undone”.” Ironic, how you make him forget about before and continue to concern him with totally different subjects.

“You’re right.” Thoughts come out a little slow, but your effort is evident on your face. “I just had too many opportunities to start over in new places, experience everything that I was curious about, and that all led me to discover exactly what I liked, what I wanted from life.”

“How’s that a bad thing?” 

“I’m not willing to let that go anytime soon.” You can’t help but notice that it sounds like some sort of prison of your will, but that’s not a discussion you can have tonight. “Anyways, Obi Wan. I must be going now, just wanted to pay my compliments and wish you good night.” 

“I thought you’d stay the night-“Well, that’s definitely not the case, “But it is so early?”

“You know our houses are not so close, any later than this and I’m going to fall asleep on the road out of habit.”

Yeah, that’s why he thought it would be perfectly reasonable for you to stay over. 

“I see.” And he wishes he had gone blind and deaf. “Then, allow me to bid you good night, my Lady.” 

He takes your hand, placing a kiss you can very much feel despite the fabric. What he doesn’t expect, is for you to press your palm against his chest in return, because he doesn’t know of the urge you have to not leave. It is a split second of override, before you can command your feet to move again, blissfully unaware how tender that moment was.

===

A day. A full day. That’s how long he can refrain from seeing you. Funny, the meetings have become a habit for him, and although he needed you back then, he needs you more now, for completely different reasons, and you’re not there that morning- and why would you be? There’s no arrangement that demands your assistance anymore. Your praises are all said and done, and if to be repeated, it wouldn’t certainly be a matter that required urgency for you to show up at his door.

And maybe, you have other places to be, other doors to knock. Perhaps you’d enjoy a change of air.

So, he has come to yours.

Naboo. Aldreaan. Correlia. The cities churn in his mind, alongside your image in every one of them. The flowers in your hand as you roam the fields of Naboo, the coat that doesn’t do much for the redness on the tip of your nose while you lodge in the mountains of Alderaan. The exquisite jewelry you wear to a Correlian masquerade, outshining every debutante in the room. He imagines the people hypnotized by your presence (what can they be, other than blessed), or you gliding among them (after all, discretion was your powerful suit). And the worst of all, he thinks of the man escorting you, claiming their dances, bringing you a glass of their rare wines, walking with you in the natural scene, their savage arms around you, their hands groping your curves, pulling sweet sounds from you.

(No, the purpose of his visit was not that. )

He invites himself in from your open balcony, catching you as you start your nightly routine. You’re taking off your hairpins, when he does the courtesy of knocking on the glass, startling you just a little. You jump, but thankfully do not scream, the reflex somehow suppressed. Truth be told, it’s not because your shock actually dwindles. If anything, it is redirected into a different question, going from “What the fuck was that?” to “Why the fuck is he here?”

“Good night, darling.” He gestures for you to sit again, and you do, returning to your chair in front of the vanity. Your head has to crane in a strange way for you to see him, but thankfully, he comes closer and solves the problem, eyes meeting through the mirror. And his face lights up as he sets foot in the room, like he too has forgotten everything but this moment, his jealousy and desperation left behind the walls. That’s how the question of “What are you doing here?” is not immediately articulated.

 Instead, you say, “Good night, Obi Wan.”

“I see I managed to visit you just in time.” Look at him, fixing his beard, laughing nervously. He just climbed to the second floor, and his heart only got racing now.

“Lucky you.” Honestly, you don't think there's a “wrong time” in his perspective, at least when it comes to you. A few minutes later, and he'd see you in your nightgown. Would that deter him from setting his foot in here? Most, most, most likely, no. Don't dwell on that thought, though. “And what do I owe the pleasure?” You try not to focus too much on the fact that you have him and your bed in the same frame, through the reflection. 

“I thought I would see you today.” Is that sarcasm in his tone, or a little bit of self-humiliation?

This must be some sort of a Shakespeare play, right? 

Oh my God, it is. 

“Ah.” You fiddle with your hairbrush, the eye contact broken, your attempt to stop any matter from escalating this night. Any matter. Not that you had any questions when it came to his morals, he probably was the one person you’d never doubt, but in terms of his intentions to be here tonight startled you in a much different light. “I slept in late today. Didn’t even leave the house.”

Oh. That makes quite the sense.

“Actually I still feel a little bit exhausted.”

“That’s because you had too much fun without me last night.” A treacherous scoff falls from his lips as he shakes his head. The moment that the tides turn. The one that brings back all the crude questions.

“What? No? What do you mean?” For all your effort to remain calm, you look alarmed, that tired face with doe eyes showing it all, and he feels sorry for a second, troubling you over his overthinking ass.

Then, he spots the bracelet you wore last night, lying haphazardly over a piece of paper on the corner of the table. It looks very much like a letter.

It’s not hard for him to advance his speculations.

“I think you know it already.”

“Obi Wan.” You twist to actually face him, your arm on the back of the chair. “Why are you here?”

He takes a few steps back, as if the air is stolen from the short distance between the two of you. He runs a hand through his hair, undisturbed by its messy result. You can see him biting into his cheeks, trying to select the right words. In the end, all that effort seems unnecessary, because when he speaks, the sentence can’t be any simpler. “Who was the man you spent an hour with last night?”

Wincing, you take a few seconds to process. It’s not about the answer, but his motive, his audacity that irks you. You stand up and speak. This time, your voice is sharp as ice. “That’s none of your business.”

He blinks a few times, so sure of his righteousness, and determined. “You were in my house, at our ball, dancing and talking with strangers and not even glancing in my direction for the better half of the night. I think it’s some of my business.”

“I was by your side for much longer than it is acceptable, Kenobi, do I need to remind you? We danced six times and greeted the majority of guests together.” You’ll not let the truth be ignored. “Any longer than that and there would be rumors all over the society today, and even I would’ve heard about it despite staying here all day. I didn’t come this much by pushing boundaries at every fucking chance I get. I picked my battles, the thing you seem incapable of.”

“So, am I to understand, this thing between us,” The look on his face dares you to deny the existence of it, “is not worth picking?”

This is the possibility that scared you. And for good reason, it seems. You close your eyes, in order to not roll them, and purse your lips. He uses the moment to reach for your arms, like he could appeal for an answer from you. “Don’t you love what we have?”

You couldn’t feel any worse under the warmth of his hands, affection pouring out of them despite the rage in him. “I love what we had.”

“Had?”

“It’s obvious that we can’t keep doing this, is it not?”

Confusion leaves its place to anger once more, for all the wrong reasons and his face darkens. “Oh, I see. You secured yourself a new entertainment, and now you have to get rid of the old one.”

You shrug out of his hold, distancing yourself from him. The source of the problem is not what he claims it to be, and it infuriates you, along with the accusations he taints you with.  “Don't you dare reflect your own degeneration on me like that! It’s not about my damn cousin’s damn friend, it’s about you!” It is nearly a scream, the highest pitch that wouldn’t grab attention. Still, reflectively, you turn your head to the door, which you had luckily locked. “Leave now, you bastard!”

Honoring the part he was assigned in that theatre play, he focuses on the wrong part of the words, the crumbles of information giving him hope, and dim his doubts. “So there's nothing between you and him?”

Seething, you are red with fury, taking a sharp breath, pointing your finger at him like a gun. “Get. Out.” 

“Is there?” 

Your tongue is determined not to let him hear your words, despite the truth in them. It will not lead to any good. 

But so will his closeness.

When did he get so close? 

The moment you look into his ocean eyes, the decision to say anything is deemed impossible. The decision to do anything, actually. His arms cage you against the cluttered table, and yours end up on his chest, though without any intention of pushing him away.

“Answer my question, and I will.” 

How could you? How can you be able to resist his utmost sincerity, the desperation in his behaviors and the brutality of his words contrasted in the way he looks at you, the caging without actually touching you. Your suffocation is only a result of your inner turmoil, the desire to spit out the truths, clear his heart and give in to the love he's handing out, but terrified of the places it will take the two of you.  

“I’m waiting, darling.”  You can’t help but watch his perfect lips move, his voice licking your skin. 

You gulp, an action he doesn’t miss, and dares to laugh at it. Obi Wan can see the exact moment your gaze returns to being that of an eris, though the flames remind him of a different time.

A very different time. 

“I hate you.” It is perhaps the most childish thing you’ve ever said in years, and it shows. 

So, that’s his cue to kiss you.

For all your claims, still, he doesn’t miss the small moan you let out, swallowing it with pride. Your soft lips move against his like a habit, anticipating every move and the next, a choreography you both know all too well  albeit in a much swifter tempo. Your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer but his stay in the same spot, afraid to disturb you, though gripping the edges hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Though, when he tugs at your bottom lip, asking for more, you grant him that, your tongues joining the dance. You whimper, the action triggering your inhibitions to loosen up, like each second wipes the doubts away. It is a sugared water, only serving to increase the thirst instead of quenching it. So you don't stop drinking it.

Not til you absolutely have to.

“No, you don’t.” 

Two seconds have to pass for you to understand his response. With his breath still warming your cheeks, even brushing them with his nose, yes he dares now, the statement is the undeniable truth.

However, not that you're ready to admit it. He already knows too much, all the things you like, all your weak spots, all of your soul.

“Yes, I- oh” And he's not the one to endure your lies. His fingers delve into your scalp, putting traction into your hair ‘til you have to tilt your head back to release the tension, forcing you to look at him through your lashes. Still, eye contact is not what he seeks, for he has as much a chance of getting lost in it as you. He uses the expanse of skin you offer, and dives in for that specific spot that has your legs going limp. It has two consequences: Firstly, you are stuck between him and the table, the latter supporting you too little that the weight rests almost entirely on his body, every plane of him touching yours. Secondly, the angle puts the mirror in the corner of your sight, and you have a maddening view of what’s happening. It is enough to make old ladies screech and faint, and artists to slave to immortalize the scene.  

“You’re a bastard.” You murmur the last bit of objection, solely for the object of throwing it out of the tip of your tongue. He hears, though quite unbothered, the retort to break you further leaves his mouth readily.

“Call me whatever you want, dear, you’re the one begging for it.”

Of course, you only pant in return. Even when he threatens to nip and bite at the sensitive nerves, you don’t stop him. Furthermore, your calf twists around his as much as it is able in that impossible posture. An invitation.

“And what else would you let me do to you? Would you let me take you to your bed?”

You nod, frantically. “Yes, please Obi Wan- take me”

That’s a sentence straight out of his dreams.

The second your feet touch the ground, both of you gather the ends of your dress, yanking it out to throw it haphazardly on the floor. Your stays and chemise follow the same fate, then it is his jacket and shirt. He taps on your thigh, like he would let you walk the five meter distance between there and the bed, you jump, a little shakily (not that you ever had questions about his strength). Fuck, it excites you how easily and softly he lands you on the edge of it. You reach for his trousers, but he stops you and urges for you to scoot back, and lay down.

Because that’s the best way he can rid you of your shoes and stockings.

Your knees stick together as he works on one foot, and the other. The shoes drop with a loud thud, making you bite your lip, close your eyes for a moment and pray nobody investigates. It’s no wonder that after that small break, your pupils meet once more. How ironic that it is the cause of your concern, and the only solution.

You can feel his fingertips skimming the top of the only clothing left on you. While the touch is stimulating enough, it is the fact that you have to spread your legs a little to allow him to undress you, giving him a view of your wet pussy.

Nothing that he hasn’t seen before, but that doesn’t affect the way you tremble.

Throwing your head back, you let him slide the stretchy fabric down. Slowly. Like his piercing gaze isn’t enough. You’re squirming by the end of it, all thoughts of getting him out of his outfit gone (-or delayed, should you still believe yourself.)

Thankfully, he takes care of it, the sounds of his buttons unfastened echo in the room. 

Though he has no rush to join you. 

You turn your face to search for what's taking him so long, a whine in your throat when he kneels. That's unlike him. 

You feel cold without his body looming over yours. And he has a hard time not to do that, not falling for the flush of red and your hard nipples. Especially when you're so gone that you may come undone just from that.

He'd like to see that. 

But he has to make you understand how you keep him in that state, ignorant of his troubles, even as the solution is obvious and wanted by both sides, however the other can't accept it out of simple stubbornness.

Thus, he plays the deaf now, as he grips the supple flesh of your thighs, squeeze and move as he pleases, exposing your core to air while he busies himself with other parts. He claims you with his lips, mapping out, pushing you down to the mattress every time you jolt because he’s so close just a little to the left- But perhaps the worst is his vulgar taunts, whispered, to himself mostly, a way to speak out the anger.

“Are you this wet for all the men you hate?”

“No.” You cry, not able to stand the accusations. “It’s you.”  And it is the truth. There are no other men on the planet that you would bear being treated like this by, or attempt to change their opinion of you. But now, you need him to know that. You can’t imagine a future with his back always turned to you, or be subject to his very much forced small talk with empty, or worse, hatred filled eyes. It is a reveal of a side of you that you had to keep hidden and downplay, to be free at the end of the day, give both of you an opportunity to walk out, but it doesn’t matter if the said fallout leaves his judgment of you sour. You care about his perception, and would do your best to change it should it be mixed with lies. Truth, and nothing less, is what he deserves.

A wave of relief floods his heart, that simple answer is all he wishes to hear. There’s also a bit of rage, for knowing you’d never admit it in any other circumstance. Alas, the smile appearing on his face is unstoppable. Even as he finally begins to eat you out.

A moan leaves your mouth at the first contact, which is nothing more than a small kiss. That bad, uh? As he licks everything he can reach, it turns into a whine, because it is evident he has no concern about making you cum quickly, or in a normal amount of time. He just continues to do whatever he was doing before, exploring every nook and cranny, and marking, like he intends to commit this moment to his memory. It may not have been his first time, (or the second), but he’s doing it for himself now, your desperation sadly not a priority. You also suspect he’s doing it to drive you mad, using his previous experience and remembering how sensitive you got when his beard rubbed against your skin.

“Obi Wan-“ Your back arches, a hand reaching for his hair. He stops it all by jostling your legs with a hold that could leave imprints. It takes half of your willpower to stay in the place he put you in, and that means you only have the other half to process the indescribable pleasure he’s giving. It is gonna be fast, whether he plans it or not.

“Could you actually throw this away? How can you pick anything else over this?” You knew it would be a hard transition. The magic he created is haunting and ready to jump on you in those dark corners, even after many years. There is no cure for ghosts, after all. The thought now seems impossible, the last thing that could cross your mind. Simply impossible. He emphasizes by nudging your clit, every single movement forcing a sound out of you. “That's right. I’m going to remind you how good we are together, make you feel so good that you'll forget anything but us.” 

The passion in his words scares you, but it would be a lie to say they don't excite you in some way, making your heart flutter in your chest at his devotion and to be able to still feel safe only supported by the honest bond you two have. You chant his name as he smothers himself in your folds, sucking and flicking your raw bundle of nerves. He loves to feel you twitch when you are overwhelmed, but not enough to climax. 

Then, he scrapes your clit with his teeth, and you're gushing, head thrown back, a silent scream in your mouth. The hot lava inside you doesn't cool down, paying its visit to every part of you, making stars explode behind your eyes and body trash against the sheets. To be perfectly honest, he didn't expect this much either, his strong muscles tightened to keep you from closing your legs, a string of curses muttered at the obscenity of it all. As always, your bliss only augments his own, especially at the sight of your essence flowing out of you. He has to drink it all in. Thus, he doesn’t stop, unbothered by the subtle sway of your hips, or the slight tug at his strands. He has no objection to them, on the contrary, he would encourage them if he didn't have to abandon his task to say the words. The slow movements of his tongue create constant stimulation in your already delicate nerves. Your second orgasm crashes you like a clap of thunder, leaves you sobbing and shaking. It uses all the energy in your already spent muscles, wipes every argument from your mind and removes those troubling emotions from your soul. The interesting thing, is that you have no oppositions to the matter. Why would there be? Could there be a sweeter arrangement? Isn’t it better than a dream? You speak the truths, and he worships you. You pay him the respect he deserves, and he tries to honor it in every chance. You don't complete his personality, you enhance it, and in return, he uses everything in his power to make your day better. 

It is not that simple, a voice speaks from the back of your head, but it's too silent to have an importance. 

Likewise, some of his ideas are dismayed just as easily. Pity. He had every intention of taking you from behind, not letting you get away before painting your ass red, and watch you crawl back to him still even when he teased you that badly, but you seem too gone, too weak to lift your hips up. And it is not a big deal anymore, because he's equally excited to have you like this, lying on your back, legs hugging his torso. Like your first time. The parallel is unintentional, but more than welcomed. How much and how little has changed since then? He leans in for a kiss, and fuck, your mouth is greets him too purely, like he's not covered in your slick. There's something more than lust that drives you, evident in the way you move, like you’re carving out a promise on his lips. The sounds that you produce are not in desperation, but gratitude, not weary of the periods of suspense but glad that it is over. His fingers travel the length of your abdomen, all blame on him for the coldness of your skin and the way you shiver. When he circles your nipples with his thumb, you sigh, and press yourself to him. 

“You take care of me like no other, Obi Wan.” You whisper as you cup his cheek. You should’ve told him sooner. It was the least you could do. 

He has no answer, and he doesn’t need one. Holding your wrist at the sides of your head angrily and meeting with your tongue is more than enough of an explanation, just like the one you made a little too late, beautiful controversies. You both are unaware of how your hips rub against each other, without hurry, ‘til his cock catches your entrance. Your breathing becomes erratic, considering you didn’t get a prep or had any in some while, and he’s big. 

“Are you gonna let me in, sweetheart?” 

“I need you.” You almost wail, despite knowing it will be too much. It’s not about pleasing him, either, for these things are not given up as sacrifices, ever. What matters is that you’re together, and that is always good. “Please, I want you.”

Could he ever refuse?

He takes his time, relishing the surrender of your tight walls, and brave noises, replied with his own moans. Your pants are guiding as much as they are troubling, making him even harder. He swears he’s about to burst when you outright sob while he brushes your areolas. Your back raises, an attempt to get his fingers a little higher, and your eyelids flutter close with the movement.

Make no mistake, your face scrunched up in delight is a sight to behold, but he can’t compromise having your eyes closed, sparing him from that glossy, burning gaze you have when he tears you apart. He needs to see them lose all coherent thought, see those doubts fly away and light up with pleasure.

“Look at me, dearest.” Right, aren’t you more than acquainted with his most important wish? He pleads, the softest tone that spilled from his lips tonight. Your heart skips a beat although you’re not exactly capable of processing that information. Needless to say, you don’t oblige to his wish, not when you are so spent. 

Obi Wan groans, his hand flying up to turn your chin. At that moment, all fall silent. You get lost in his stormy eyes, and so does he. Though his cock twitches in your quivering channel, that’s not the point.

“I can’t get enough of you.” He blurts. Then, the other truths demand to be told too.  “I don't like the way they look at you. I don't like how they don't know how blessed they are by your presence. Shit, I hate it when they know it too. I hate to think those who got to memorize you this closely, even those you knew before me.” 

Even those you knew before me. “Obi Wan, you're-” 

“Crazy? I'll admit, I am crazy when it comes to you.” 

“I never-” You have to drown a whimper as he continues his deep, slow strokes, “asked for any of it.”

“Of course, dear. I know, I know it's not you, but them. But I can hardly stop myself from reaching out and pulling you out from their sigh. Or wrap my hands around you, let them see what we share. They wouldn't dare anymore, if they knew the lines you left on my back.” It takes an incredible amount of will not to thrust into you faster, with where his ideas lead him to. “Would you let me mark you from the inside?”

Fuck, why does his words make their way into your heart without ringing those alarm bells you have ready at all times? How does he move past them so easily? 

Or do you let him, and take those rings as a cheery tune of his nearing presence, and not a warning as they must be?

“Yes!” The feeling of him finishing anywhere but in you suddenly sounds so disgusting. You want his warmth, even though you're burning already. 

His lips find yours, kissing you so hard that you'd thought he wanted to silence you. But surely, you know better, that's definitely not the case. You get to drink his sweet moans as his hands envelope you further (like it's possible). In return, he's right there to swallow your gasps, the proof of how you push yourself for him. The rest of the world stops, the urge to fill your lungs no longer necessary, nothing but the rhythm you've created, and clouds you've climbed on. 

He senses your peak before you do and gives you a brief space to breathe, praises falling from his lips that you can't hear, as you shake and let out whimpers, quite loud, for you've grown used to him muffling them. He follows suit, not able to resist your walls clamping down on him, painting your insides with a heavenly moan. 

It takes a second for both of your bearings to return, for the night to evolve into a chilly summer night it was simply meant to be. The coldness is especially remarkable as sweat cools down. A towel wipes them rather quickly, but it's never as warm as having the other around. Your usual remedy, a nightgown, is no use either, even if he helps you put it on. It is such a whiplash that makes you question everything about the last hour. You're left with burning cheeks as he collects your clothes from the floor, hanging them on the divider, then his- but he does the same to them?

“What are you doing?” You croak, a minute of silence for your vocal cords. “I don't cuddle.” That's a harsh sentence, but it's the truth.

“And I don't leave the person I love in the middle of the night to freeze.” He's holding a candle, the only lit candle in the room, and his face is illuminated beyond anything else and it could be said that he is the source of light. 

The person I love. His words break down the last resolve you have, and you're left to figure out how you feel about it as he kills the flame, and slides  into the sheets behind you. You'd think the sensation of his chest pressed to your back would keep you wide awake, but no, it's weirdly new yet familiar, enough to lull to sleep. Also, his scent is mesmerizing, and you never had it this close and constant. 

And for him, he had no trouble whatsoever from the start, but this is far better than expected, that he is sure he is living the best moment of his fate. The softness of you, in his arms, drifting into heavy dreams. It is a treasure for him to see that you can relax beside him, allow him to feel the regularity of breaths, showing your most natural self. 

But the morning is anything like the night.

You wake up from the orange lights of the rising sun, when he gently combs your hair out of your face. There's a fatigue in your muscles, alongside that sweet tinge of pleasure still lingering, making it all bearable. Your skin runs hot where he holds you, your back, your waist, your intertwined legs… The slight prickle of his beard is not pronounced when it's rolling on your shoulder, especially as it's followed by small pecks. He's unable to resist, your intoxicating smell pronounced in the cove of your neck, right under his nose. Only when he feels somewhat satisfied, and you seem a little more conscious, the tonus of your body increasing, he talks. 

You weren't ready for his morning voice.

“Good morning, love.” His hand rises to soothe the redness rising where his chin was pressed. Delicate all over. “I’m afraid I must get going, for both of us’ sake.” 

You give an affirming hum, and swiftly roll out. Your body betrays you without delay, a shiver seizing you, protesting the lack of his heat. You shake your shoulders, not so subtly but it's not like you can cringe. It is your band aid, and you're ripping it out. 

You reach for a robe and put it on rather easily for your questionable nerves and state of mind. 

“Darling?” 

“Yes, you should really get going, Obi Wan.” Fuck, that sounds still more aggressive than you are, or you ever intended, a mirror of the storms in your mind. 

“What's the matter?” He's awfully quick to put on his trousers and come near you once again. He looks into your eyes, unobscured by your hair, and then there's that look of reveal on his face, the point of no return. He says your name, a final plead and a warning.

“You must leave soon.” This time, you’re a little softer, but it is nowhere near normal, considering what you shared.

“You think last night was a mistake.” He’s never sounded colder, and you have to focus not to bite your lip. The stern expression on his face is unbecoming of him, but it’s also a great reflection of his fidelity. Now, the other side of the coin shows itself, with his icy eyes and clenched jaw.

“I never-“ said that. Though, is there any possibility of you explaining what you feel? The doubts, the unfamiliarity of these feelings. Could you say, I’m not sure about this thing in between us, without creating the same effect of his claimed words?

There’s a second of silence, as he’s giving you one last chance to speak up. You know, you know that the moment you try, he’s going to break that heartless look, and put his loving hand out.

“For someone who thinks it was a mistake, you don't seem regretful at all.”

“Because it's not, and I don’t!” The confession is for him, but it is hard on you. But that doesn’t mean you’re willing to repeat it. “But it can become one. This has to stop. We can’t go further than this.”

“Why?” He’s trying his best not to raise his voice in this quiet, quiet hour.

“Because this is just- just an infatuation. It will go away. And to remember this time as a good one, we have to be careful, and we’re starting to lose that sense.”

An infatuation. That is the strangest insult he’s ever heard, but the worst nonetheless. An infatuation. The more he repeats the word in his mind, the more his anger grows, with a goal to show you otherwise.

“This is not what happened last night, and you know it.” He was as clear as day, and you honored that likewise. There was no lie. “If this is about you getting pregnant, I swear -”

“No, that's not it.” For once, you show something about the bond you have. “I have no concerns about you, or the whole society, should that happen. I’d even happily move away somewhere nobody knows my name and raise them.” 

Why is that option uttered, when there are far easier choices to make? “You’d rather build a new life than marry me?”

You remain silent once more, owning the coward you are. This is exactly why this wouldn’t work, anyways. He shakes his head, catching himself still thinking of ways to convince you, to work through the problem. He even thinks of walking out of the main door, and running into your father's study, forcing your hand in marriage.

You can see that thought play in his head as his gaze becomes fixated on the door.

"See. That's why.” You beg. “This is just an obsession, and you are maddened with it. You can't see reason, or listen to the sound of it, and I can't watch you make decisions like this. Is this how you actually want to treat me? Blackmail your way into marrying me?”

“So, this is what you think of me.” Blackmail. 

“No, Obi Wan, are you even listening to me?” You cover your face with your hands, a moment to recollect yourself. “Do you know when my next trip is scheduled?” 

Oh. You and your infamous life on the roads. 

“In three days. And do you know I already postponed it once?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we have very different lifestyles, and they are not compatible.”

“Or maybe, you are running from something so long that it has become a habit.”

“I do it because I like it. Because I promised people that I would see them before the end of autumn.” The latter part of your answer is not in your favor, but his, a product of overthinking. You discover that a little too late. He sees it too, along with the fragile curl of your lips, but doesn’t use it against you. Not anymore.

“I wish you a safe trip, then.” That’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to regret your preferences, as he takes a step back, and dresses himself in a blink with perfection. It causes you to feel vulnerable, like his stoic face and impeccable outfit which somehow looks even more put together than yesterday, when he was helped to put it on, paints him like a statue of a Greek god who is putting you on trial.

A trial that you fail.

Yet, by not punishing you, he gives you the worst sentence: Incarceration with your conscience.

[thesassypadawan]

Debriefing *part 2* (Master Obi-Wan x PadawanFemReader)

Summary: After a somewhat successful undercover mission, your master wants you to properly thank him…luckily, he’s not in a debriefing with anyone. So you can make as much noise as you want.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because of all the lovely smut. Blowjob, a little bondage, and Obi’s thick dick. Padawan reader is of age.

Notes: Thanks all you lovelies for taking the time out to read part 2!  I hoped you enjoyed it and look forward to part 3! And I also hope you enjoy part 1!

“Don’t you think a ‘thank you’ is in order?” Obi-wan smirked. “Considering that I did just rescue you from the messy situation you got yourself into.”

Your jaw dropped open. Shocked to hear him say that, considering this had been his idea in the first place. The binders, the barely there outfit, the whole master and slave personas…

But, as much as you hated to admit it, he was right. You were the one who had diverted from the plan. You were the one who stupidly got yourself kidnapped and had to be saved like some naïve youngling.

“Thank… Thank you for saving me, master.” You mumbled, your poor hands still bond behind your back. “I promise to make it up to you some…”

You trailed off, noticing the way he looked at you. The way his eyes swept up and down your scantily clad body, clearly undressing you with his gaze. “M-Master?” You stuttered, your face heating up from his brazen gesture.

“I’m sure you will, padawan of mine.” Obi laughed darkly, taking a step forward. “In fact, I can think of a few ways you can do so…right now.”

Without thinking, you take a step back as he took another forward. The two of you continued this little dance until he had you caged against the wall of the ship. His face buried in your neck, nipping softly.

At first you stifled your moans. But when his nips became bites, you let out a stream of small gasps. “Why? Why, master?”

He runs his tongue up your neck and across your lips. Before he pulled back, a satisfied look on his face. “Come now, darling. It’s not time for you to be asking questions…it’s time for you to thank your master.”

Your eyes shined with a mischievous glint as Obi-Wan’s hand rose to cup your jaw. The other coming to rest on your shoulder, applying gentle pressure. You understood what he wanted, and you were more than happy to oblige. Allowing him to slowly guide you down to your knees.

Giving you one last tender squeeze, his hands left to tug at his pants until his cock had sprung free. He was semi-hard and you couldn’t help but look up at him expectantly. Watching giddily while he stroked himself, growing to his full, impressive length.

Biting your bottom lip, you squirmed in anticipation. “You’re so big! Please, shove-” Your words were cut short when Obi pushed himself into your open mouth.

You mewled excitedly, sucking on his long, thick cock. Hollowing your cheeks while he snapped his hips forward. “Whatever my little one wants, she gets,” he cooed down at you.

His speed picked up as he eagerly fucked your face. Big balls slapping heavily against your chin. Drool dripping from the corners of your stuffed mouth, falling onto your breasts.

Pleased moans escaped you. Loving every moment of the rough treatment you receive. Of how helpless you felt against Obi-Wan’s near brutal pace, your head brushing the wall behind you.

“Such a good girl, swallowing me down so well,” he growled, thrusts growing harsher. “You look absolutely stunning with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

His praises warmed your body. Making you suck at his hot length more eagerly, taking more of him into your mouth. Bobbing your head in time with his harsh movements, while he pushed further down your throat.

Pulling all the way out of your mouth, you sputtered and gasped for air. “Master,” you whimpered, gazing up at him with wide eyes. “I want your cum!”

Kneeling down to your level, Obi cradled your face gently. “I know you do, dear one,” he chuckled, running his thumb across your swollen bottom lip. “But if I’m going to fill something of yours…I’d rather it be that tight, little cunt.”

With a grunt, he hauled you to your feet. “Is that understood?” He muttered, hand cupping and caressing your pussy.

“Yes,” you moaned softly, grinding shamelessly against his palm.

Your master flashed you a charming smile, his fingers teasing your clit through the thin fabric. “Good. Now be a love and go wait in my quarters. I have something I need to attend to first. It won’t be long, I promise.”

He gave your nub a hard pinch and sent you on your way.

Waiting a moment or two, he then turned his attention towards the recording device he had hidden.

“Hope you enjoyed my ‘debriefing’, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said smugly. “May the force be with you. Kenobi out.”

And with the message finished, he sent it off.

[grippingbeskar]

a welcomed distraction

obi-wan kenobi x fem!reader

word count: 9.8k (i have no idea how)

warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (oral f receiving, mxf intercourse, general sexual content) mentions of death, reader has deceased family so mentions of dead parents/siblings only briefly

a/n: sorry this is fucking LONG i dont even know why because there is hardly a plot but i tried. sorry but reader calls him master kenobi so thats hot? it’s fluff throughout tho bc CMONNNN ITS KENOBI HES SWEET AS. can’t believe the show is ending tomorrow i am so sad. manifest another season! okay bye!!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“You came all this way for me?” You smile at your former classmate turned Jedi council member, and he is just as gorgeous as you remember him. “I’m honoured.”

“You haven’t changed a bit.” Obi-Wan Kenobi bows slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. It was protocol, now that you had taken your rightful place on the throne of your home planet, but with the history you shared with the man in front of you, you quickly brushed off the gesture and came towards him. Pulling him into you, your arms wrapped around his significantly large frame. The last time you saw him, he was a scrawny padawan training under Qui-Gon, and had that ridiculous braid down his face, but seeing him now, you hadn’t realised how much you actually liked it. 

“You certainly have. You changed your hair.” You pull away from him and he smiles at you, attempting to hide the slight redness that flushes across his face. 

“Yes, well the council had that effect on me.” You link your arm through his as you lead him through the palace, your dress gliding smoothly across the marbled tile. “This palace is incredible. I take you finally redecorated?”

“You should of seen it when I started. Total shit show.” Obi-Wan’s laugh fills the room, and you try to slow the racing of your heart at the fact that he remembers so much about you, even if it was years ago.

You grew up in the Jedi academy together, your parents wanting you to hone your skills, and having no clue where else to send you as no one else in your family was Force-sensitive. You and Obi-Wan were fast friends, and it was with him that you spent most of your formative years. In fact, when you think of your time there, there is very little memory that isn’t filled with laughs and smiles caused by the Jedi knight. You used to talk about everything together, your future, and most relevantly how you would tear down the castle your parents built and start it fresh if you were ever given the chance to lead your home planet.

That seemed like a lifetime ago, and you never would have thought those ideas would be realised. You had two older sibling in line for the throne, so you thought your life would be similar to Obi-Wan’s now, him dreaming of sitting on the very council chair he now holds, you wanting to one day have your own padawan, and train them how your Master trained you. When your families home was attacked, however, you were the only surviving member of the royal household, and you were immediately thrust into the political turmoil of ruling a planet, and forced to leave your Jedi days behind you.

You remember where you were when you found out that your family had passed, and that you would be crowned Queen in the coming week, tasked with the impossible of bringing your planet together in the face of tragedy. Obi-Wan held you while you sobbed, tucked away in the furthest parts of his quarters in the temple while he whispered soothing promises that he would never be able to keep. You believed them anyways, but you were just children. Neither of you could hold the other to those things - not now.

It was enough for you, though, to have him here now. To remember what he meant to you, how you spent your years together, and that even if you could only have him in flashes, it was still the most real thing you ever felt.

“I never doubted you would succeed. You know I read every entry that came in about you in the Archives?”

“Really?” You knew Obi-Wan could feel your Force energy as it spun wildly throughout the room. You were out of practise and he was a council member, but he did an incredible job of hiding his reaction. Or ignored it. 

“Of course. Even now, when I know you don’t need me checking up on you, I still feel like I am with you, like when we were young.” You both walked through the archway and the doors softly shut behind you. You had led him through to your private chambers to discuss whatever it was he had come here to talk about. In truth, as soon as you had heard it was him coming, everything else flew out the window, so you were completely clueless as to the official business. 

“I’m the same. Did you get my holo-message? When you made the council?” Obi-Wan smiled warmly, and you knew the answer before he spoke.

“Yes - I was meaning to reply, everything has just been-”

“Crazy? I get it, don’t worry.” He just nods, and you hear him exhale. It had always been like this, both of you easily slipping back into the familiarity of each other, so when he didn’t respond to your message over a month ago, you knew it was just because he hasn’t had the chance to take a breath. 

“I never thought it would be like this. The council always seemed so put together - I have no idea how they hid it so well.”

“It was the same when I came back home. My parents hid the stress so well, I thought it would be a breeze.” You still hadn’t unlinked arms as you both took a seat on the couch, only sliding away slightly so you could rest your back on the arm rest. You were surprised Obi-Wan didn’t pull away, he was always so shy when it came to physical affection. Maybe the years that had passed between you both had mellowed him. Either way, you were grateful for the small contact.

“Well, you have been handling things incredibly since you ascended. Thats actually why I am here.”

“Oh, right. Offical council business. I am all ears, Master Kenobi.” He laughs again, and his smile is still a little bit crooked when he laughs. You remember it being so when you were young. You remembered everything about his face. 

“Yes. I am very offical now.” You laugh with him, and he seems to lose focus for a second as your laughter dies down, waiting for him to speak. “Right. The council wants you to come to Coruscant, for the national senate.”

“In person? Like, to sit in?” He nods encouragingly, but it doesn't seem to calm your sudden nerves.

“I know how it sounds - and don’t worry, I already told them about your preference to not speak to crowds.” You still feel a little sick, but that is replaced with warmth in your stomach when Obi-Wan’s hand rests on your lower thigh and squeezes lightly. “It would just be to the council and a few of the national board members. They are impressed with your diplomatic discrepancy, and want to see if it has potential to be implemented into the senate debates.” 

“I feel sick even thinking about speaking in front of the council. Do you remember that time we broke the amulet - the one Dooku leant Qui-Gon? We had to explain it to Master Yoda, and I swear if you hadn’t spoken for me I would have passed out.” 

“But I am the council now! It would just be me, and a few other people. I’d be there the whole time. They are truely impressed with you, they just want to hear more of what you have to say.” You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. You knew it was ridiculous - a Queen, leading a planet full of people, terrified to speak in front of a crowd. It had been something you had always struggled with, and even still today you avoided it as much as possible. 

“I am flattered - truly! You know the councils opinion of me means the world, but I-”

“I know you can do this. Look around you! Look at what you have created. This planet was at a breaking point when you took leadership, in the face of tragedy. Your own tragedy, in fact, but now it is thriving! Your economy has been stable for its longest period yet, exports and imports have nearly tripled in your short reign, and even major crimes have diminished. Your people are happy, your planet is safe - your leadership skills could help millions more.” He spoke with such passion and truth, you almost forgot he was talking about you.

“You really have been keeping tabs on me.” You breath and he shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Like I said the night you left - I will always be your biggest supporter. Even light years away, I would be there for you.” 

“I missed you, Obi.” His hand was still resting on your lower thigh, and your skin had become inexplicably hot under his touch.

“I missed you too. More than you know.” The room felt smaller than before, and it was then that you could feel him in the room. He was in front of you, but he was also all around you, like he was surrounding you in everything that was here. You hadn’t used the Force in a long time, and you almost forgot how overwhelming it was when you leaned into it, but you couldn't help it when it came to Obi-Wan. You would do just about anything he asked - which is why you were already feeling nervous about this speech you would be inevitably making. 

“When is this hypothetical senate meeting, anyway?” Obi-Wan beamed at you, relishing in your defeated sigh.

“The next national senate is in three weeks, so just before that. You’ll do great, I know you will.” You don’t know how you pulled yourself away from him, probably the simmering nerves threatening to spill over, but you got up off the couch and walked over to the table where you left out your favourite wine, and poured two glasses.

“I suppose it would be bad taste to let my old friend fail one of his first solo missions as a council member.” He laughed as he reached the table, taking the glass, and his fingertips brushed your own as he did so. Everything he did shot sparks up your spine, but the way he was touching you without hesitation was so unlike the timid Kenobi you remembered. It was the only thing that had changed about him - well that and the hair.

“I appreciate the sentiment.” He took a sip of the wine, and coughed as he drank down the liquid. “You still have a taste for strong liquor, I take it?”

“What’s the point of drinking if it’s weak?” He shook his head, but took another sip. “Enough business talk. Tell me what you’ve been up to, apart from keeping tabs on me, apparently.”

“Oh, that is about all I do. My council meetings do tend to revolve around you, as does the rest of the world. That is how you used to see it, am I correct?” You nearly spit out your drink. Sarcastic Kenobi was one of your favourites.

“At least being on the council didn’t squash out your sense of humour. I was worried you would turn into one of them.”

“One of them? Did you expect me to turn into a little green man?” Now you do spit out your drink when you burst out laughing, and he joins you.

“You know what I mean! We always used to talk about how serious they were. You were a lot more of a rule follower back then, though. They thought I was the bad influence.”

“You were! That amulet was your fault, I stand by that.” You start shaking your head and finish the glass in your hand, the wine going straight to your head.

“Bullshit it was! You wanted to look at it!”

“Only because you told me it was cool! I was trying to impress you.” The confession seems to even catch him by surprise a little, but he recovers quickly by finishing his own glass.

“Well, I couldn’t have been half bad. I did graduate top of my class, didn’t I?” He rolls his eyes, a smirk forming on his gorgeous face. Oh Maker - you really did have a taste for strong wine.

“You will never let that go, will you?”

“Nope! I still remember how angry you were when I beat you.”

“Yes, because I spent all my time quizzing you when I should have been studying.” He grumbles a little, clearly still holding a grudge. Your cheeks go pink at the memory, because you think of what actually happened that night before the final exam, which was what set you apart when you graduated.

“I don’t seem to remember a whole lot of work getting done.” You can’t look at him when you say it. Maybe he forgot - it was years ago now. You certainly never forgot, but the way he brought up that night so casually made you think he hadn’t dwelled on it like you had.

“I - no, I suppose not.” So, he does remember. You don’t know what senario would have been more daunting. “You were always smarter than me anyways.”

“True.” He laughs and you beam back at him. “But you were always stronger. And more focused. I tended to get a little... distracted.” Now you were really testing his memory.

Obi-Wan shifts on his feet, and for a second you think you might have made him uncomfortable with the memory.

That night meant a lot to you - and it had been something you had always thought about. Even throughout all the years apart, that night before the final test, both of you huddled on Obi-Wan’s bed sharing the same textbook, you had never forgotten how it made you feel. 

You were so nervous - you remember it because its how you feel now, with Obi-Wan slowly making his way around the table to come towards you. It wasn’t just the big test, though. You had feelings for him, of course you did, you still do. He was your best friend, pretty much your only friend, and he was the kindest, most loyal person you had ever met. You swallowed those feelings, however, because you were both going to be Jedi’s.

If only you had known.

You remember how close you were, because Obi-Wan is almost that close now. You could hear him breathing in the same, uneven pattern you hear now, although now it is significantly lower. You were both holding the textbook on the bed, reading opposite pages and making up little quizzes and questions to test each others knowledge...

                             * * * flashback * * * 

“I am going to fail. I know it - with the Force in me I know it. I can see it now. My first premonition: a giant F on my stupid paper.”

“Don’t be dramatic. If anything, I’m going to fail. I know nothing about the history of Coruscant. Nothing!” He groans and shuts the book, shoving it off the bed, his hands coming up to cover his face.

“Now who’s being dramatic.” You dropped your head on his shoulder, and he froze up. You knew any kind of physical touch would distract him enough to make him forget about the test, at least for a moment. He would pass with flying colours, you knew he would. He’s the smartest person you know.

“I -I never can just - this is everything to me. And to you, of course. I just -” You lift your head from his shoulder and take his hands in your own. You see him physically tense up when you interlock your fingers in his.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi. You will pass this test. You will be the best Jedi there ever was, and you will be completely and totally fine. I promise.” You let your gaze drop to your hands, laying on your lap as you had turned to face him. His knuckles were nearly white with how tight he was holding your hand, and you were grateful you were looking down because you were blushing furiously. 

“I would never have made it this far without you, you know.” You let out a breath - he would have succeeded in any senario. “I mean it. All these years, you helped me so much. I don’t know how to thank you.”

You look up and find his eyes, wide and vulnerable. 

“You don’t have to thank me. You did the same for me. You know that. What are friends for?” His eyebrows raise and his mouth opens just slightly, before he regains composure and lets go of your hand.

“What are friends for.” He repeats and nods, like he’s trying to remember the sentence. 

“Obi? Are you okay?” He just nods again. You can feel the shift in his energy, and you know that he is lying. “Hey, you are going to crush this test, okay?”

“Yeah.” He breathes and goes to pick up the book. You reach out a tentative hand and stop him, fingertips brushing the bare skin of his wrist. He freezes.

“Maybe we should stop reading for a bit. Meditate or something, distract ourselves.” Your hand stays on his wrist as he turns towards you. Both of you sit cross legged on the bed opposite each other, knees touching, You keep your hand on his wrist and he keeps his arm outstretched so you can touch him, letting it come to rest on your ankle. 

“Distract ourselves.” He says, and his voice cracks.

“Yeah. I’m sure we can think of something to do other than study. I can count on one hand how many times we have actually gotten work done, anyways.” You catch his smile in the corner of your eye, and your hand is still on his.

“Maybe that’s why I know I’m going to fail.” He says defeatedly, and you shake your head, bringing one of your hands to the side of his face. His eyes go wide, and you snake your finger underneath the braid that hangs on his cheekbone. 

“You are not going to fail.” He sucks in a breath.

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you. You know me, am I going to fail?” The question surprises him, and he creases his eyebrow, seemingly relaxing under your touch. Finally.

“Of course not. You could pass in your sleep.” You smile and he mirrors it. You feel the evidence under your palm.

“See? We are practically Jedi already.” You don’t know why, or what about this interaction makes you bold, but you lean in just slightly. His breath brushes against your cheek.

“I’m - I am-” He lets out a shakey breath, and you nod your head. His hands comes up to your face, holding you close. 

“I know. Just - we need a distraction, right? To focus.” He nods, convincing himself and you. 

“Right. To focus. Then we can be Jedi’s. After we...” You were pretty sure you weren’t moving, or breathing, or doing anything but blinking at him. You feel him all over the room, his energy a live wire wrapping around your chest. Everything about his Force was new and exciting, it was skipping around in spite of how still both of you were. You are sure yours was the same - speeding around him at the same rate that your heart was beating out of your chest.

“Obi-Wan, I-” Your eyes were still open when he pressed his lips to your own, but as soon as you realised what was happening you squeezed them shut and kissed him back.

He was warm. You don’t think you were cold, but Maker he was so warm. Your free hand pulled him closer by his robes and he eagerly leaned into you, lips moving faster and more urgently the more time passed.

You were both completely inexperienced, and you don’t know how technically good you were, but it felt so good being this close to him. Being close to him in a way that you had longed for all this time, a way you never thought was possible. You could feel the heat swirling low in your stomach, and Obi-Wans hands dropped from your face and fell to your hips as if sensing what you needed. He moved backwards on the bed, leaning against the wall and pulled you towards him, urging you to follow. You shuffled forwards not letting your lips leave his, afraid that if you stopped for even a second one of you would realise how very wrong this was, and would come to your senses.

 Maker, you had never wanted to be wrong so much in your whole damn life. You moved up and straddled him, his hands tight against your hips holding you to him. Your back arched as one travelled up your spine, pressing your chests together. You were both breathing hard; catching tiny breaths between kisses. When you let out the smallest of sounds, something between a whimper and a whine, Obi-Wan’s mouth opened on pure instinct. 

When his tongue slid into your mouth you returned the gesture with a grateful moan, both of you letting your hands glide where ever you felt. One of your own found his hair and you tugged on it. Something about his hair always made you want to feel it under your fingertips; when he would come late to training and it would still be all messed up from sleep, or when he got caught in the rain that one time, and showed up at your room with his braid all out of place, asking you to fix it for him. You had always wanted to feel it in your fingertips as you kissed him, and he leaned into it, returning your desperate noises with his own. Hands found skin under your shirt and you let him touch you wherever he pleased, silently begging for him everywhere. 

Your hips moved against him, and neither of you were prepared for how good it would feel to have each other so close. For the first time since he grabbed you your lips disconnected, only to say the others name in bliss before finding him again. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth and he moaned, eyes fluttering open to find yours, pupils blown out in lust.

“Sweetheart.” Obi-Wan says, and you feel your entire body shudder. His hand grips the back of your neck and pulls you impossibly closer. You were trying to keep your head on straight but when his tongue slips into your mouth again, you melt into his lap and take whatever he gives you.

Both of your hips were rolling out of sync, Obi-Wan shifting uncomfortably in his spot to get any kind of relief. You could feel how hard he was underneath you, and you wanted him to lay down - to move so you could feel it more. 

If either of you did move, though, this would become more. Something you couldn’t excuse. The thought hit both of you at the same time, because you pull away and Obi-Wan leans his head back on the wall, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. You were both desperate for air, but more than that you were trying to calm yourselves down.

“We-” You started and he groaned.

“I know. Shit.” His hand ran down the back of your head, smoothing out your hair. 

“Shit is right.” He lets out a breathless laugh, not letting go of your hip.

You don’t remember how long you stayed there, tucked away in his lap, but time clearly passed in a second as you woke up alone, in your own bed, and only just made the final exam with five minutes to spare.

Obi-Wan came down three minutes after you, and you both passed with flying colours, you beating Obi-Wan by one point, a multiple choice question about the history of Coruscant. 

                       * * * flashback ends * * * 

Obi-Wan moves around the table and now stands in front of you. You don’t know if he picked up on your little clue, or how much of your energy he can read clearly. Everything seems fuzzy to you now that he had reached you, and the wine was making your brain short circuit.

“You always had an affinity for distracting me.” You breathed a laugh as best you could. “I nearly missed the final exam that day, you know.”

“So did I! I don’t even know how I ended up in my room that night.” He tilts his head.

“You fell asleep. I didn’t want to wake you, so I carried you back.”

“You never told me that.” He just shrugs, like he didn’t risk everything, being kicked out of the academy for a simple gesture. If anyone had caught him, it would have been almost impossible to lie their way out of that. “You could have been caught. You should have woken me up.”

“You looked... peaceful.” He closes is eyes for a second, remembering. A period of silence passes, neither of you wanting to disrupt the fragile glass of a moment. 

“Such a gentleman.” He laughs and takes the empty glass from your hand and places it on the table. He takes a step toward you.

“I should have come and found you sooner. After your families funeral and your coronation, they stationed me off-world, but I should of-”

“Stop, Obi. Of course you were busy, being a Jedi knight and all that. It’s what you dreamt of - what we dreamt of. For years.”

“I know, but I should of-”

“You know I was also running a planet. Kind of a full time gig.” You both laugh and he relaxes, shoulders slumping forward slightly.

“Yes, so I’ve heard.” You roll your eyes, and he smiles. “But I never stopped thinking about you. About that night.”

“I-” He steps forward and you nearly step back, completely surprised by his boldness. “Are you drunk, Obi-Wan?”

“No!” He scoffs and stays where he is, almost looking offended. “Well, maybe a little.”

You giggle in response as you stare up at him. He was taller than you now, and where before he stood at your height, now his breath only just brushes your forehead, towering over in front of you.

“I never stopped thinking about it either.” He stops smiling, eyes widening a bit. It is so like that first time on his bed, and it sends a wave of heat through you to remember him like that. 

“You never brought it up again. I thought I had crossed a line.” He whispers, and you would miss the words if you weren’t staring at his mouth.

“No, God, everything was just so crazy after that day. It was only a few days after we graduated that..” Obi-Wan was nodding, knowing you were speaking of when you found out your family passed.

“Of course. It was-”

“A lot.” Obi-Wan breaths a laugh at your casual response.

“That is one way of putting it.” He concludes. You think back to when you found out your family had died. They were never particularly loving, and most of your childhood had been spent with the man in front of you, so trying to mourn them while also never really knowing them was all too consuming.

You were more distraught about the future you wouldn’t have - you had never planned to be a queen. You wanted to be a Jedi, to fight, or teach, just do something good in this world, and to do so with Obi-Wan by your side. It was like your life was pulled out from under you, and you only had about a day to process it before you were whisked back to your home planet to lead.

“You really lived the dream, though. Best Jedi in the galaxy, so I hear.” He drops your gaze, but stays close enough you can hear him smiling.

“Something like that, I suppose.”

“I always had imagined what it would have been like, if all this-” you look around at the highly decorated private quarters. Blue and gold streams through the tinted windows, lighting up the marbled floor. “-hadn’t happened.”

“I have no doubt I would still be second best.” 

“Such a charmer, Master Kenobi. What happened to that shy little kid who used to hide whenever it was time to practise hand-to-hand?” He looks up at you, eyes ablaze with a look you can’t quite pick. 

“I have changed, like you said.” Your breath caught in your throat as his tone lowered. You almost forgot how close your faces were. “I had thought about it too. What it would have been like if you had stayed.”

“Really?” He nods, holding your eyes. “So in your wildest dreams, you are only second best?”

“Maker, you are impossible.” He smiles through the sentence. 

“I really did miss you, though. For a long time I thought about running away, coming to find you and Jedi-ing it up across the galaxy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, all the time. Of course now, I am grateful for what I have, but I think we would have been awesome. Maybe a little reckless, though.”

“You? Surely not.” His eyebrows raise and you push him lightly on the shoulder. “I don’t think we would have made the council, though, like we used to talk about.”

“No?” He shakes his head. 

“I think we may have gotten a little too... distracted.” Your eyes widen, and you have to blink a couple times. Is he... “If you had stayed.”

“But I didn’t.”

“You couldn’t.” He’s right. You would have stayed, if you had been given a choice. Stayed with him.

“Right.” You suck in a deep breath and try to blink away the fuzzy feeling in your head. You felt like you were spinning, and then everything went blank as Obi-Wan reached out and interlocked your hands.

His palms were rougher than you remembered, battle hardened you were sure. His hands were bigger, too, matching his larger frame. He still held you just as tight, knuckles going white as he pulled you toward him. He made no move to kiss you, but instead held you there, mere inches from pressing your bodies together.

“I almost forgot why I came here today. The flight over I had to re-read the message from the council.” You said nothing, just gripped his hand back with the same silent desperation. “Not once have I been unprepared for a mission, or gotten on a ship without knowing exactly what I plan to do. As soon as I saw it was your name, I just got on the ship and came to you.”

“I had no idea why you were here. I just told them that if you ever came, to let you in. No questions.” It was the reason he was able to come to your families funeral, and the coronation days after. It was pretty much the first change you made as Queen - the heightened security after the attack made it impossible for anyone to see you, but you couldn’t run the risk of him being turned away.

“See what I mean? Distracting...” His eyes drift down to your interlocked hands.

“Hmm. How am I supposed to get through this speech, then?” His eyes drift slowly up your body, roaming freely. You felt too hot - his gaze was burning into your flesh through your dress. 

“You could always practise.” He finally pulls his eyes off the tiny straps of your dress, and looks at you. 

“With you?” 

“I am the council, after all.” His hand lets go of yours, only for his fingertips to drag upwards slowly, skimming the soft skin of the inside of your palm, up to your wrist.

“I- I don’t even know what I would say.” His hand stilled.

“I’ve never known you to be speechless. Try it now.” You huff a frustrated breath. 

“Kenobi. This - what are we doing?” His fingertips are still touching your wrist when he pulls his eyes back to yours. You see them flick across your face, searching for some kind of sign of resentment or hostility. He would find none.

“You only call me that when your upset with me. Do you want me to stop?” You drop your head back and look up to the roof. Your eyes focus on the sparkling chandelier, twinkling your broken reflection back at you.

“I’m not upset. This just- it’s just not fair. I know that we can’t - better than anyone I know that we can’t. Well, you can’t.”

“We aren’t. I would never do anything to betray your trust.” 

“Obi, that’s not what I meant.” You soften your tone. “I can’t handle having only half of you. You - my whole world has revolved around you for what feels like centuries. I could hardly stand watching you from a distance, because I know that- that what I want is not possible.” Your breath was shaking. You never imagined when he walked through the doors to the palace you would be laying yourself out like this - or maybe you knew yourself better than you thought. You did leave out your strongest wine.

“You can have as much of me as you would like.” He says lowly. It makes you realise that you aren’t kids anymore, and that maybe he doesn’t follow all the rules like he used to. Your heart jumps in your throat. 

“You are on the Jedi council, Obi-Wan.”

“I know. I know.” He says, swallowing hard. “This isn’t something I take lightly. I know what it would mean. I would never have come if I didn’t.”

“You could lose everything you worked for.”

“I could.” And then Obi-Wan shrugs. At the idea of losing everything he cared about, he just shrugs. “I have met… people. New people, who have shown me that these kinds of things - there can be something like that in my life. If I choose it. After I made a decision, I took the first ship I could find and came to you.”

“I-“

“It helps if you don’t think about it too hard. I learnt many lessons from you, but not thinking is one that took me the longest.” He smiles, and your head hovers just in front of his chin.

Both of his hands rest on your hips and you step into him, his scent filling your senses. Vanilla.

“Do you remember that night, when we were sneaking around after training? We wanted to get those textbooks from the restricted section, and you were too scared to sneak past the Archivist?”

“Hey! I was- To be fair she was highly intimidating.”

“She was like a thousand years old.”

“With a very big cane!” You laughed and Obi-Wans hands held you tighter on your hips. “What about it?”

“This feels like that. We spent weeks trying to hide those books in our rooms, do you remember when Master Yoda came to speak to us, and-”

“Oh Maker, please do not bring that up right now. I am still embarrassed.” You laugh against him, and let your head fall into the crook of his neck. You take a second to breath him in. You don’t know how many times you have imagined this moment, where he finally comes to you. 

“This was so much easier when we were kids.” You mumble into his robes, and one of his hands comes up to the back of your head, smoothing your hair down.

“I think it’s easier now.” Your eyebrows screw together, and he must feel it because he laughs. How could it be easier now? At least when you were kids you didn’t have any real responsibilities. Now, you had an entire planet on your shoulders, and he... “At least the council don’t have a cane.”

“And you said I was impossible!” His hands come up to your face.

“Come here.” He whispers, coaxing you closer. You leaned into him with little effort, and let your eyes flutter shut in anticipation. “You don’t know how many times I have dreamed of you.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea.” Your eyes were still closed, and you had no idea how close he was. His lips brushed against your nose as he lowered his head towards you, and you found yourself pushing up on your toes to hurry him.

“You think so?” You nod, feeling his lips against your cheek and his hot breath on the shell of your ear. “You are sure this is what you want? We can wait.”

“I have waited long enough.” Your eyes open and he smiles down at you, and finally, after years between, his lips finally reconnect with your own.

He moves slowly, teasing as he holds you in place with strong hands. You push up higher on your toes but he refuses to give you an inch of room, taking control and spinning you to the left so that your lower back is pressed up against the edge of the table. 

He kisses you harder when he feels your hands in his hair, pulling and tugging in a desperate attempt to keep him here. A surprised sound is lost in his mouth when his hands drop to the back of your thighs, lifting you in the air before gently placing you on top of the table. You hear the breaking of glass next to you, and both of your heads slowly turn to the floor, where your broken wine glass lays shattered at his feet. He keeps kissing you as you look down, but his urgency makes you completely forget about the mess. 

You wrap your legs around his back and force his body against yours, earning a groan from the back of his throat. His hands come down on your knees and slowly massage their way higher, bringing up the soft silk of your dress with their movement.

As he exposes more of your skin, his lips fall from your own and attach to your neck. You let out a moan at his teeth biting softly at the sensitive skin, and you feel him smile against you and then do it again. 

“You’ve be- shit- been practising.” You tug at his hair again and he hums against your skin, the vibrations making your hips buck slightly.

“Only in my dreams.” The confession sends your mind blank, and you pull his hair back, attaching your lips back to his own. One of his hands holds your neck, the other coming to your lower back, letting you move your hips as much as you want. You can feel his hard length against your exposed core, the faint excuse for underwear under this dress hiding none of your arousal. You know he can feel it too, because he stutters out a few strangled moans every time you roll against him. 

“Feels - good. Oh, shit it feels so good. I need you to-” You babble out as your legs lock tighter around him, and he pulls away. You pout, feeling like a child and reach out to grab his robes and pull him back to you.

“So impatient.” He smiles and kisses you again in a long, slow motion, enough to satiate you both so he can get a sentence out. 

“And you are so good at being with-holding right now?” You try to focus on what he’s saying, but you can’t tear your eyes away from his lips, and how much you want them back. Want them in other places, too. 

“You are right. If this dress wasn’t so pretty, I may have torn it off.” He tugs at the fabric of your dress, pulling it a little higher. The look in his eyes is purely hunger, and it makes your words get lost in your throat.

“I have a thousand dresses, you can-”

“Ah, but this one might be my favourite.” You shake your head and he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead. “Sit still for me.”

He drops to his knees in front of you, and the first thing you think of is how much you wish you could capture this moment forever. The way he looks, hair all over the place, robes pulled out in all directions; it is so unlike how put together you have seen him. Especially in any of the council addresses you have watched, which is all of them. He is always so proper and formal, but it took about twenty seconds with you to unravel all that composure, and it has you squeezing your legs together, searching for relief. 

His hands run up along the exposed skin of your legs, fingertips just brushing the hem of your panties before coming back down to your knees. He was tall enough so that you could still see his face clearly if you leaned back, but you didn’t want to miss a damn second of the sight in front of you. 

“You are still the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen.” 

“Obi, please don’t tease me.” He looks up at you and presses a kiss to the top of your knee before urging your legs open with his hands, gently spreading you open. 

“Are you going to pout every time you don’t get your way?” He presses sweet kisses up the inside of your thighs, taking his time to touch every sliver of skin available. “Always. So. Impatient.”

He hums each time he finds an unexplored stretch of skin, and occasionally gives into the temptation to softly bite and suck, leaving a row of marks no one but him will see. 

“You’re an ass.” Your hands thread in his hair and he hums against your skin. Pushing your dress up higher over your hips, he slides you forward, edging you closer to the end of the table. 

“You are so beautiful.” His hot words making you shiver, and you see the half lidded look in his eyes shoots awake when he sees your underwear. Thin, black lace hiding nothing from his intense gaze. It makes you, for just a second, want to hide from him, but then you remember who it is, and you let him take his time. His fingers tentatively hook over the thin fabric, and he seems to just stare for a second, enjoying the sight of his hands against your skin. “So beautiful.” 

He drags the underwear down painfully slow, and you wriggle on the table to get him to move faster, but he doesn’t. He is meticulous, and you can see his eyes flicking to each of your legs, wanting to watch like he was unwrapping a present. 

“Is this how you usually start offical council meetings, then?” He looks up at you, a half grin on his face and kisses your upper thigh. You can see a few of the marks he has left from this angle, and it makes your heart skip. 

“Yes. The council is very close.” You start laughing, hands holding him tighter to stay upright. 

“Going to be a busy few weeks for me then.” He bites a little harder on your thigh, and you let out a squeak. “Sorry, Master Kenobi.”

“Maker, it sounds so good when you say it.” He is so close to your centre you can feel your legs start to shake in anticipation. Your hands begin to gently tug and massage the roots you have tangled your fingers in, and he groans.

“You like it when I call you that?” He nods, leaning his face against the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ll call you that all day if you-“

“If I what?” You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, but his hand taps your back, making them open on instinct. “You want me to taste you?”

“Yes, Master Kenobi.” He moans and his tongue finally dips into your pussy, soft and gentle. You cry out, and it is clear that he was holding back, because as soon as he hears your desperate sounds, he hooks both of his arms under your legs and throws them over his shoulders.

He holds you to him as his tongue laps at you, the sounds of your arousal hidden under both of your groans of approval. He was far too good at reading your body, knowing exactly where you need him without having to say anything but praise. He takes your clit into his mouth and sucks, and everything goes white. 

The rough grip you have in his hair is the only thing keeping your body upright, and you can only hope he would tell you if you were hurting him because you need to see the sight before you. He occasionally looks up to you to watch you, and a small smile appears on his face every time he catches your eyes. One of his hands somehow snaked between your legs, because you feel his finger curl inside of you, setting a slow, delicious pace that has you panting.

“I love it when you call me that.” He murmurs, and then takes your clit back into his mouth, sucking and kissing until you aren’t sure if you are still on the table, or floating in the air. 

“Oh fuck, Master.” He slows his finger inside of you and his mouth turns to kissing any skin except where you need him the most. “You’re so good. Please, I can’t-“

He slides two fingers back inside of you, and his mouth returns to your throbbing clit, and your hips roll into him on impulse. He was surrounded by you, legs still clamped around his head and shoulders, and his other arm was gripping across your lower back, ensuring you were close enough. 

“Taste so sweet.” He says into you, and you can feel the years of built up tension simmering low in your stomach.

“Mmmfuck- please, please don’t stop - shit.” He groans into your pussy, and flicks his tongue right where you are most sensitive, making you whimper his name through gritted teeth. You were getting close, which is why you couldn’t hold back your groan when he pulled away again.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He leans his cheek leaning against your thigh, mouth still burning kisses into your skin like he can’t pull himself away. Both of his hands were now grabbing at the bare flesh of your ass, massaging and coaxing you to the point where you were almost completely off the table. 

“Just come up here-”

“No. We can’t do this here.” He presses one more kiss, lower down on your leg before unwrapping your legs from his head. His hands drag slowly along the skin, and he lets his eyes wander around the sight in front of him. You liked seeing him like this, unabashed and staring like he had all the time in the world. Because he does. 

“You don’t want to fuck me on this table, Master Kenobi?” He stands and lets out a long, loud groan, all of the air in his lungs brushing against your chest as he tucks his head into your neck. 

“I want to have you on every elaborately decorated piece of furniture in this room. I want you to be like you were ten seconds ago, begging me not to stop.” Your legs almost start to shake just at his words, and you can feel how close you were to finishing on his mouth when your hips jerk against him, making a mess of his robes. 

“Why don’t you, then?” You want him to. You would ignore every royal duty just to meet his every need. His strong arms wrap you against him and lift you into the air, and your arms wrap tightly around his neck as you squeal in surprise.

“Because when I take you for the first time, I want it to be the only thing you can think about when you go to sleep, because you are all I think about.” He spins around and walks further into the room. “Bedroom?”

“Through there. First door on the left.” You don’t fight him on that, pointing towards the smaller hallway and he kisses you sweetly while he walks. You can’t help but smile when he walks straight past the room you pointed out. “Missed it.”

“Hm?” He pulls away from you, eyes still half closed and looks around, quickly correcting course. “See? Distracting.”

You laugh as he bursts through the door, revealing your room. He’s still kissing you, eyes squeezed shut when he walks into your bed, so when he gently lets you go and you fall back onto the soft covers, you get to see his reaction as he looks around the room. 

It is not as elaborate as the rest of the castle. When you were designing it, you wanted it to be a place you could check out of all the royal mess outside, and be at peace. You have even mediated a couple of times, not that you were very good at it nowadays. You designed it around the time you felt most comfortable, a place where you always felt safe.

“This looks like our rooms. From the academy.” He looms over you, taking in the grey metallic walls with wide windows, light stuttered by the cascading blinds. You shrugged shyly at him.

“I didn’t want my room to be the same as the castle. I guess I was a bit nostalgic when I designed this part.”

“I like it.” He says, still not looking at you. Your dress had fallen back into place, covering your legs, and you were growing impatient. You began to drag the fabric up, shimming on the bed. 

As Obi-Wan had his back turned, examining the few things you kept on your desk, you took the entire dress off, leaving you completely naked on the bed, and Obi-Wan completely clueless. 

“I kept my desk in the same place.” He observed, running a hand over the plain wood.

“Call it a coincidence.”

“Oh, I’m sure it-” He turns back to you and loses track of his words. It all happens so fast, but in the next second Obi-Wan is on top of you, kissing your mouth, your neck, down to your collarbone. Once he reaches a part of your skin he knows will be hidden, he starts the same slow, meticulous pace of biting and dragging his tongue, exploring.

His mouth starts to go lower, and your breathing quickens as his lips ghost along your stomach. He looks up at you, and you realise he’s still wearing clothes.

“I want to see you.” You whine, and he crawls back up your body, kissing a trail of heat back to you. 

“Here I am.” You roll your eyes.

“More.” You tug at his robes, the various layers getting tangled and caught in your hold. He straddles you and sits back, eyes roaming your body as he begins the process of undressing. He had you boxed in so you couldn’t hurry him along, but you sort of enjoyed watching him. 

He undid ties and fabric, each layer revealing more of his muscled torso. He finally reaches the final layer, pulling the shirt over his head with one hand. Your hands run along the exposed skin, and its your turn to drink in the sight of him. You try your best to memorise every scar and ridge on his abdomen, but you are impatient, and can’t stray your eyes back to his chest when he begins to pull his trousers down. He leans back down before you get a good look, but feeling him naked against you is almost better than seeing it. 

“Is this okay?” He says breathless from the effort of holding himself back. You kiss him in response, shifting your hips to allow easy access, but he doesn’t move. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes. This is very much okay. Like, the most okay thing in the world right now.” He smiles and kisses you again, one of his hands traveling down the curve of your hips while the other comes up to your face, cupping your cheek. “Are you sure this is what you want? What I said before, I didn’t mean it like-”

“This is all I want. All I have wanted since that night in my room.” His face is hard - serious. You’ve only seen him like this in training, almost determined to make you believe it. The hand that travelled down your side cups your ass and moves your hips to lay flat on the bed. “I haven’t ever done this before. I - I don’t know how well I-”

“Anything you do is perfect. Perfect. Please.” You can still see some of the unsure nerves flitting in his eyes, and your mind drifts back to earlier, to what gave him that extra confidence boost. “Please, Master Kenobi.”

His teeth graze against your bottom lip and he slides into you, the room suddenly alive with both of your desperate gasps of relief. 

“Oh, fucking Maker.” He groans into your mouth, before sliding out of you completely, and then back in. The process is blissful torture, and you feel every perfect inch of him inside you, hitting something that makes you see stars through the plain tiling of your roof. It wasn’t that he was larger than anyone you had been with before, but it’s just because it was him. He felt so perfect inside you, like he was made just for you, and even with his confessed inexperience his slow and controlled pace has you reeling.

“You feel so good- ohmygod- please go faster I-” You can hear him moaning something low under his breath but with the added stimulation of one of the rough pads of his finger on your clit, you don’t have the capacity to try and listen. You just continue to babble out plea’s and cries, the build up from his mouth before hitting you like a speeder. 

“Faster, sweetheart?” You nod and squeeze your eyes shut. The hand on your face drops to hold himself up beside your face, hand finding yours and interlocking your fingers. “Like this?”

He starts to go faster, not slamming into you but just enough to build you up brick by brick. It’s mind numbing, the pleasure drawn out, every time he drove into you he was seemingly exploring a new part of you. He was kissing your collarbone, switching between each side, leaving wet kisses in his path, kissing your mouth each time he switched sides. 

You couldn’t speak anymore, his relentless thrusts getting harder every time you moaned out his name into the room. Your back arched into his chest, and you could feel the flex of his abs against you.

“Baby, I’m - you feel divine I can’t -“He all but bites down on your shoulder and you try to move your hips to meet him, encouraging silently.

“Don’t stop! Please, please, pl-lease -oh fuck!” He went faster, the sound of skin on skin echoing. You were burning up underneath him, everything inside of you zapping into place for your inevitable crash. You were a shaking mess, and he was ruining you in the best way, every relentless snap of his hips had you begging for more, even though you weren’t sure how much more you could comprehend. 

“I’m gonna- sweetheart” His voice cracked and you forced yourself to open your eyes.

“Cum inside me, please. I want you to-” You sounded more desperate than you wanted to admit, but from the broken sound that came from Obi-Wan, you would say it over and over again. His hips stuttered only for a second, and he came with the sound of your name on his tongue. 

With the way his hand was working you, and the incredible sounds he was making in your mouth you followed him into his orgasm, the blood rushing to every nerve ending and blanketing over your entire body. 

Everything went blank and you were almost positive you passed out, the feeling of pillow soft lips kissing up and down the front of your throat bringing you back to your body. 

“Obi-Wan.” You managed and he was back to your lips in a blink, drinking you in like he still hadn’t had enough of you. You hadn’t had enough of him, either, and you returned his force with as much energy as you could summon. He had fucked you tired, though, because you could hardly pick yourself up.

“So beautiful.” He laid down next to you, clearly just as exhausted. You turned and watched as his eyes closed, and he wrapped an arm around you, bringing you closer to lay your head on his chest. Your hand comes up beside your face, tracing aimless lines along the multiple scars on his chest, and you sit in silence, trying to regain control of your mind enough to speak full sentences. 

“Can you stay?” You whispered up at him when you felt his breathing even under your chin. He shuffles down on the bed, pulling back the covers enough so you can both easily slide underneath them.

“I’m afraid you will never get rid of me now.” He pulls you back to him, bringing your leg to rest over his abdomen, how he knows you like to sleep. 

“Good. Council’s never getting you back now.” He laughs and kisses the top of your head, making you blush at the intimate gesture. “It wasn’t a coincidence. The room, I mean.”

“No?”

“I just really liked yours. It was always cleaner than mine, and it was warmer. I guess I thought it would bring me back to those days if I had a bit of it here.” Your wrapped your arm further around him, practically bear hugging him.

“Well, it is warm. Definitely not clean, though.” Your head shoots up at him.

“Hey! Not like I was expecting handsome strangers to whisk me to bed every time a council member asks to meet with me. You can clean it for me later, since you were so good at it.” You expect him to retort, but he just smiles.

“Handsome?” Your eyes nearly roll out of your head, but after what just happened, your more than happy to feed his ego.

“Very handsome. Bit of a light weight, but is a great fu-”

“Okay, that is quite enough.” He laughs and covers your mouth. You squirm away from his hold to continue the assault of profane compliments, but he easily holds you down. It turns you on a little more than you can admit, but you store the information for later considering the worn out look on Obi-Wan’s face.

“You know, when we get up in the morning, I’m going to have to explain to my staff who you are.” You say as you tuck the blankets up under your chin, nuzzling your face into his neck. 

“And what will you tell them?” 

“What should I tell them?” You feel his chest rise and fall and little uneven.

“A- I guess telling them a Jedi would only confuse them more. And me.”

“We can figure it out tomorrow.” He just nods, shifting himself under the covers.

“Hmm.” You feel the sound melt into the top of your head as he presses another kiss to your hair. “There is an explanation that would comply with both our interests.”

“And that is?”

“After a long night of negotiation, I was finally able to convince you to accept the contract of building a Jedi training academy on your home planet. One that I would personally oversee, hence the need for overnight accomodation.” You shoot up out of bed, bringing the sheet up only to cover the bare minimum of your chest.

“You what?” He smiles and leans up on his forearm.

“That was another reason I was here. They know your expertise exceeds your diplomacy - and they still talk about how much of a loss it was, when you left. The council wants you to come back, in a sense.” You think you were about to cry. “It was my suggestion, my first when I made council, to consider the construction of the Jedi academy here. It is just as safe as Coruscant, and with you as a ruler, the Force is just as strong. It would be a chance for you to live the life you dreamed of, while also adhering to your duties.”

You were crying. Definitely crying. Obi-Wan sat up and wiped a tear from your face, his brows pressed together in worry.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, I-”

“Upset me? This is the most incredible thing I... Maker, why didn’t you tell me earlier!?” He blinks a few times, and goes to speak but you cut him off, excitement taking over your need for sleep. “Of course I want to do that! It’s - that would be - wow, there’s so much I would need to do! I am so out of practise, I hardly even meditate anymore. Oh, and the council would need to-”

Obi-Wan kisses you, probably to shut you up, but you can feel him smiling underneath your lips.

“Why didn’t you say something?” You whisper to him, and a small blush appears across his face in the dim light of the room.

“I was distracted.” His eyes drop to where the sheet hangs loosely across your chest, and you breath a laugh. “Would you - the council sent me here to assess. See if I would be open to teaching here, if you would be, us, together. In the future, they even spoke of a Padawan-”

“I- I can’t believe this. I- all I ever wanted was to do this. You know that, right? My dream was to train, to work with the council, fight for what was right, and to share that with others.”

“I know. That is why I suggested you, not that they needed much convincing. You were the golden child.” You laugh tearily. The idea of getting to have that life back, while also being able to grow everything you have worked for since returning home. You let your weight fall into Obi-Wan, and he tucks you back into the bed, soft covers gliding along your skin.

“There’s so much we need to talk about.” You mumble, eye closed, already half asleep.

“We can figure it out tomorrow.”  He repeats to you, and his breathing begins to even out behind you.

Everything you had ever dreamt of had practically come true, and it was fitting that it had all started with Obi-Wan Kenobi. He had been the source of almost every single happy memory in your life, and beginning this new chapter with him by your side, you knew that he would be responsible for the rest of them, too.  

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Obi-Wan trying to understand what is troubling you...

Obi-Wan approached the vacant seat beside you at the cantina bar. He frowned at the empty glasses and gently pushed away the one you were toying with.

“I think you’ve had enough spotchka for one night.”

You glanced at the Jedi and let out a groan that you could have sworn was internal but judging from his expression, it wasn't.

“How did you find me?”

Leaning against the counter, Obi-Wan stared out towards the crowd. “Dex saw you in here. He mentioned it to Cody and Cody had the right sense to inform me.” He explained and looked at your saddened form staring into the blue liquid. “What’s going on? You know you can confide in me.”

Taking the glass back into your hand, you tipped your head back and downed the rest of the drink letting the empty item hit the bar table with a loud thud. “Not about this, I can’t.”

Obi-Wan took a seat, facing you. "Please try." He requested. "This sudden behaviour of yours - it has me very concerned."

~ More imagines here ~