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secretsolarsystem · 2 years

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“ you kissed me last night. “ “ and you didn’t stop me. “

-> all these quotes have potential for more, loved the two stories you already did!

(from this prompt list)

oooh anon this one is very very good, thank you for sending it in!!!! this one is a modern au, exes, very slight angst with a sickeningly fluffy and happy ending, 1.6k words 💚

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When Anakin blinked his eyes open, he immediately shut them again, hissing like a vampire threatened by the light streaming in through the windows. He wasn’t hungover, but the drinks he had had last night and his being a human being made him less than happy about the sun’s bombardment of his senses.

After letting himself fall in and out of sleep for a few more minutes, Anakin made himself sit up and adjust to the bright room. A room he realized what not his. And he was also not sitting on his bed, or a bed at all.

He looked down, seeing he was still wearing his clothes from last night — just a black t-shirt and black jeans, though he was missing his shoes — and he was sitting on a red couch. He knew this red couch. This was Obi-Wan Kenobi’s couch.

As in, Obi-Wan Kenobi, his ex-boyfriend.

Before he could realize how fucked up it was to wake up on your ex’s couch and bolt home where he could safely take the time to remember how he ended up there and then wallow about it, the door to what must be Obi-Wan’s bedroom opened, for it revealed a sleepy Obi-Wan in a white t-shirt and plaid pajama pants.

Anakin bit the inside of his cheek. Obi-Wan really was so handsome, especially when he’d just woken up and was still all soft and mussed. Anakin had always thought so.

He watched with a racing heart as Obi-Wan gave him a small smile and walked over to sit next to him on the couch. “Morning,” Obi-Wan greeted, voice raspy from sleep. Anakin hated how much he liked hearing it again just shy of a year of being without it.

“G’morning,” he mumbled back, looking over Obi-Wan’s face as if re-memorizing it. He didn’t need to; all the freckles he had once kissed and still loved were exactly where he’d left them.

As he and Obi-Wan awkwardly took in one another, everything that had happened last night came flooding back to Anakin. He’d gone out with Padmé and Ahsoka, heading to a bar to celebrate Ahsoka passing a test (or something; Anakin had heard ‘let’s get drinks’ and stopped listening).

While Anakin had been buying their drinks, someone saddled up closely next to him, leaning on the bar and waiting for their turn. When Anakin turned to see who was pressed up against his arm, he paled when he realized it was Obi-Wan, the boyfriend he had thought he was going to marry until he’d broken up with Anakin to follow a career opportunity that took him away from Coruscant and all the way to Stewjon.

(Anakin had fought to go with him, but he was still finishing his degree and Obi-Wan refused to let him drop out. Looking back, it was a sacrifice of Obi-Wan’s own, but at the time, Anakin saw it as an excuse to leave him behind after a year and a half together.

In other words, they had fought horribly about it and hadn’t spoke since that night.)

But now Obi-Wan was here, ten months – not even an entire year – after breaking Anakin’s heart. Anakin was so happy to see him again, he was so angry at him, he wasn’t ready to see him yet at all.

Before he could decide which emotion to settle on, the bartender brought Anakin his drinks, the motion drawing Obi-Wan’s eye to him.

“Anakin!” he’d said, surprised but the happy sort. It made Anakin smile stupidly at him, and they hugged, making Anakin’s heart break all over. He’d missed being in those arms, missed Obi-Wan’s heat and smell.

Anakin, trying to be polite, had invited Obi-Wan to hang out with their little group, and Obi-Wan agreed, bringing over his own friends Satine and Quinlan. Their now group of six got along well, everyone happy and buzzed and chatting away.

Anakin and Obi-Wan, though, couldn’t help but be drawn to just each other. It was almost like no time had passed, like everything was different but nothing had changed. Obi-Wan asked Anakin about his classes, and Anakin asked Obi-Wan about his work, but it was clear they just wanted to hear the other talk, getting closer and closer as they spoke.

The loud music was a perfect excuse for Anakin to have to watch Obi-Wan’s lips to tell what he was saying, or for Obi-Wan to speak right into Anakin’s ear, his lips brushing against it with each word.

It was like every nasty thing that had been said those few months ago was erased with each smile, with the way Obi-Wan’s arm found itself around Anakin like it always had, with the way Anakin played with the hem of Obi-Wan’s shirt just so his fingers could brush against the skin underneath.

“I’ve really missed you, Anakin.” Although it had to be shouted into Anakin’s ear, Anakin felt like they were the only two people in the whole bar, in the whole world. “You look amazing. It’s nice to see you so happy.”

Anakin had clutched Obi-Wan’s shirt, equal parts happy and sad and angry and aroused. If he hadn’t had the drinks in him, he probably wouldn’t have been so honest, or maybe he would have, but either way, he tilted his head so their cheeks were pressed together and said into Obi-Wan’s ear, “I’m happy because you’re here, Obi-Wan. You know that.”

Then Obi-Wan had wrapped both arms around Anakin’s waist and turned to kiss him, deep and hungry and sorry. Anakin wrapped both of his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck, sighing and letting the other man press his tongue inside his mouth. He could have wept at having the man pressed to him again, at getting to taste him again, at the way his fingers dug into his sides as if each one was a promise to never leave again.

Their friends had started jeering at them, booing and telling them to get a room already. They pulled away reluctantly, giving each other heated looks paired with sheepish smiles. Obi-Wan had then asked Anakin if he wanted to go to Obi-Wan’s apartment, and Anakin had agreed, too happy and horny and tipsy to get angry about the fact that Obi-Wan had been back long enough to have an apartment but still hadn’t reached out to Anakin.

Anakin remembered the taxi ride home, filled with teasing touches and excited glances and stolen kisses; he remembered getting up to Obi-Wan’s apartment and sitting on the couch while Obi-Wan got them some water; and then he woke up to a bright room and a red couch.

“You still have the red couch,” he stated, as if Obi-Wan didn’t know this.

“I do,” Obi-Wan agreed, nodding to confirm that he did know this.

“You’re back,” Anakin observed next.

“I am,” Obi-Wan nodded again, though there seemed to be an apology on the tip of his tongue.

That could wait, though. “You kissed me last night.” He needed to know what it meant to Obi-Wan, because if he apologized and expressed regret, or laughed and passed it off as an alcohol-induced whim, Anakin would walk out of this apartment with no shoes on to go cry on his own couch in peace.

Because it meant a lot to Anakin. It meant that if Obi-Wan was sorry, Anakin would forgive him. It meant that if Obi-Wan was offering, Anakin would have him. It meant if Obi-Wan was staying, Anakin would keep him.

Searching Anakin’s eyes, Obi-Wan kept his face maddeningly neutral (Anakin had always hated his ability to do that). When he responded, it wasn’t regret or a joke, but it also wasn’t a declaration of enduring love. What he had said was, “And you didn’t stop me.”

Blinking once, then twice, Anakin snorted a laugh. This maddening man. “No, I did not,” he concurred, smiling as Obi-Wan grinned at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. Biting his lip, Anakin tilted his head as he considered his next words.

He didn’t need to ponder them and whether or not he should say them for long. It was always easy for him to be honest with Obi-Wan. “I don’t think I’d stop you if you did it again.”

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows at this, his eyes flicking to Anakin’s lips, making Anakin’s heart race. They could figure it all out after. They could fuck or fight or cuddle or talk or go fucking grocery shopping for all Anakin cared — after.

Thankfully, Obi-Wan seemed to agree, because he cupped Anakin’s face with one hand and pulled him forward, connecting their lips. But Anakin was hungry, starving for the man, and while he loved Obi-Wan’s sweet and slow kisses, he didn’t need those right now.

Wrapping his arms around the man’s neck again, Anakin laid down on the couch, pulling Obi-Wan down and on top of him. Obi-Wan landed with a surprised groan, going to hold himself up by his arms but falling again when Anakin wrapped his legs around his waist and yanked him down.

Chuckling against Anakin’s eager lips, Obi-Wan pulled away, making Anakin chase him with a pout and a whine. “Anakin, I want you, I need you,” Obi-Wan said softly, dark eyes searching Anakin’s. “I love you. Would you let me show you? Can we try again?”

A big, wide, happy grin broke out over Anakin’s face, and he tightened all his limbs around the man, pulling him impossibly closer. “Yes,” he whispered against Obi-Wan’s lips. “You know I love you. I never stopped. Yes.”

Obi-Wan planted a hundred, or maybe a thousand, or maybe a million kisses all over Anakin’s smiling face, but they weren’t enough. They’d never be enough. Anakin would always need more of Obi-Wan’s kisses, would never tire of them.

Getting antsy from excitement and love and having Obi-Wan’s body pressing onto his again, Anakin turned his head to get the man’s lips back on his own, both of them smiling into the kiss. Then, tightening his legs and rolling his hips up, Anakin sighed while Obi-Wan groaned at the sensation. “Please, Obi-Wan,” Anakin begged, “Show me.”

“I will, I will,” Obi-Wan promised with a hundred, a thousand, a million more kisses. They were all slow and unhurried, though. The kisses did not try to make up for lost time, but rather, they promised that they had all the time in the world.

#ummm why do I wanna write an exes fic now #I love the Emotion of it all #like the foundation of ‘I know you and what it is to love you’ of established relationship fics #but the romancing and trust building etc etc of getting together fics #and who doesn’t love angst w a happy ending #N E WAYS. I hope you liked it!!!!<3 #obikin #ask #prompt #my writing

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dexters-bluemilkshakes · 3 years

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i made “the 501st go to target” , “the disaster lineage goes to target” and “The Clone Wars Squad ™️ (+Satine) Goes To Target” and now i give you: The Rebels Go To Target

hera: got to relax for once. she found some magazines and read them in the asiles while drinking a coffee. she got the newest additions to book series she likes and bought a few DVDs for her and Kanan’s few and far between “date nights.” she bought chopper a cat toy.

kanan: does the shopping. finds all the groceries/ food staples that they are running low on. also buys plain clothing/ accessories to be used in disguises. he grabs many packs of hair ties because ezra and sabine were tired of him stealing theirs. when both he and hera were done shopping they walked around the store, hand in hand, chuckling when they heard laughing and screaming and everything in between from their kids, and were very thankful zeb drew the short straw.

ezra: mr.kleptomaniac steals little trinkets and whatnot by putting them his pockets or by making it look like it was already his. He is pretty smug about it at first but sabine saw the whole thing and a few days later let’s it slip that ezra shop lifted in a half-successful attempt to get the heat off of her for smth dumb she did. ezra sheepishly returned/ paid for all the items while a stern hera stood behind him. zeb could. not. stop. laughing. zeb got in trouble later bc he was supposed to be watching ezra.

sabine: ogled over the hair dye, graphic tees, and art supplies. Despite them not having spray paints, she finds a lot of different materials she’s never had the chance to use, or just materials most people wouldn’t think to put in a piece. she re-stocks on snacks and her preferred hair dyes/ purple shampoo/ products. it’s going to be a long time before they come back here.

zeb: was the Designated Parent for the day. He had to make sure Chopper didn’t destroy the whole store, make sure ezra didn’t steal anything (he failed miserably at that), and make sure sabine didn’t paint anything. he also had to make sure kanan and hera didn’t do the smooches in a quiet corner. (he failed even worse at that) he was very frazzled but during his running around the store he found a really nice pair of boots. he also jump scared ezra like three times and made weird noises in neighboring aisles to try and freak ezra out. ezra insisted it didn’t (it did).

chopper: pinched people’s legs while hiding under clothing display tables. eventually zeb put him in time out and he had to spend the next 10 minutes walking in (grumbly) silence with zeb until he could continue his chaos. repeat cycle. hera gave chopper the cat toy and that kept him very occupied for a while. despite his insistence that he doesn’t care for it, he now refuses to shut down without it nearby.

rex: ezra tried to get him to lift him into the ball crate. rex said no. (ahsoka then looked away for like five seconds and rex threw ezra in the pit with no hesitation. ahsoka saw and immediately face palmed.) he walked around with ahsoka, and they reminisced about all the times they came here with their friends during the rare downtime they got during the war. oh! there’s where fives managed to slip and bring down a shelf. oh! there’s where padmé and anakin were caught holding hands. oh! that’s the hair product obi-wan insisted he never used but he did. oh! there’s where this person and this person and this person and he and she and they and

they’re all gone.

ahsoka and rex tried not to cry.

(when they saw the still lingering stain from where the wolffe pack managed to burst 12 pens and get ink everywhere the tears began to fall)

ahsoka: she could hear the whispers of her friends still lingering on the shelves. she thought she saw obi wan and anakin and padmé and…

but it wasn’t them.

it’s hard going back to the places of your past when the ghosts still haunt you.

she and rex left before the rest of everyone else

all she got was a keychain of a dino that anakin swore he would get on their next visit

and he would have gotten it.

except there was no next visit.

hondo: no one knows how he got here. no one invited him. he mostly left people alone except to ask for them to pay for his things. no one did. he eventually just stole a cartful of random stuff. he got caught, so he flew away with bags of stuff falling out of his window while shouting “until next time, my friends!”. the rebels left soon after that.

kallus: (post getting stranded on a Geonosian moon w our favorite Lasat) was parent for the day with Zeb, even though he didn’t have to be. That is, until he found the hat section and spend the rest of the time admiring himself in different fedoras. he got a watch, despite never saying he needed one and no one even saw him near the watches.

bonus!

thrawn: does not shop at target. ever. but it was a late night and he desperately needed more coffee grounds so he had little choice.

tarkin: lol dude just sneered at everything and made haughty remarks about the state of the store.

he actually loved it and goes back with a black mustache taped on his lip.

#starwars #sw #star wars rebels #swr #hera syndulla #kanan jarrus #ezra bridger #sabine wren #zeb orrelios #chopper #alexsandr kallus #hondo ohnaka #ahsoka tano #captian rex #thrawn #tarkin

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imagineyourworld · 3 years

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Misunderstanding

Echo x Genderneutral!Reader

Summary: After the war Echo runs into you and Rex, who he mistakes for your husband and the father of your children

Warnings: Mention of death and war

Check out more of my work here

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The moment Echo saw you a thousand memories came rushing back: Your soft hands on his cheek. Your lips on his lips. Your lips on his skin. How your skin tasted under his lips. Your careless laughter as he carried you home after one too many drinks. That time you showed him how to brew the perfect cup of calming tea. The way you said his name and how your voice sounded when you told him you loved him. The happy smile when the two of you reunited after his supposed death. And the sad smile when you told him that you couldn’t go with him. That had been almost three years ago now. At first both of you had made an effort to talk every day, then, as the war got busier, every other day until it was every week, once a month and then, a little more than two years ago, the two of you had said your last goodbyes. But now here you were, looking not a day older, and even more beautiful, than the last time Echo had seen you. He took a moment to just look at you. Your hair was a bit shorter, maybe a shade of two darker as well, and your style had changed. During your relationship he had mostly seen you in your scrubs at work or sweats at home, now you looked more comfortable in your clothes, more like yourself. Too late, only after he had already called your name and you had turned around, did Echo notice that you were holding the hand of a little girl. Her curious eyes looked him up and down before turning to you. She said something Echo couldn’t hear, but he did see the smile that lit up your face as you walked closer, pulling the girl along with you. “Echo, I can’t believe it. What are you doing here?”, you asked. You still said his name the same way, your smile was the same and your eyes lit up like they always did when you looked at him, but all Echo could focus on was the little girl, who was staring at him. Was she yours? The daughter you had with someone else? Someone who had replaced Echo in your heart? He should have known this would happen, it had to eventually, but that didn’t help the pain, not when Echo himself had thought of you ever day for the past three years, when he never stopped loving you. “I... I decided that it might be time for me to settle, and since most of my brothers have made their lives here on Coruscant I thought I would do the same.” Echo didn’t add that there had also been the small hope that you might still be living on Coruscant. “So you’re gonna stay here? That’s amazing, we’ll have to catch up some time soon”, you said, the smile on your face growing with every word. Echo just nodded. What else was he supposed to say? Luckily he didn’t have to say anything else, because the girl took the opportunity to insert herself into the conversation. “Who are you?”, she asked, her expression both curious and vary. You looked down at her with a stern expression but fondness in your eyes. “Leia, you could’ve asked a bit more nicely. But this is Echo”, you told her. Your eyes went away from the girl to focus on Echo. “He’s... and old... friend.” Yes, the words stung, but Echo understood that it was probably the best way to introduce your daughter to your ex boyfriend. “And Echo, this is Leia, sh-”, you started, but were soon interrupted by a small voice calling out the girl’s name. Another child, a boy, appeared, with a big smile on his face and a paper bag in his hand. “Guess what I have!”, he said with a grin, holding the bag out for the girl to peek into. Echo was now looking at the boy. He didn’t seem to be older or younger than the girl, so maybe he wasn’t another child of yours but Leia’s friend. Though they did look somewhat alike. “Luke, you can’t run off like that”, a familiar voice called from behind Echo. He refused to turn around, as long as he didn’t see who was coming up behind him, who clearly belonged to you and the children, a childish part of himself told him that it wouldn’t be true. But your words confirmed his fear. “Rex, it’s fine”, you laughed. “Luke’s safe, he was only ahead of you by like a meter.” Echo now looked at his brother. He looked a bit older than the last time he saw him, probably due to their rapid aging, but other than that he didn’t seem to have changed at all, still caring and commanding and loving. Echo closed his eyes for a moment, he couldn’t bear to look at you and Rex and your children, because from the way the four of you interacted he could tell that you belonged together. Of course he had known that you would move on, though a small irrational part of him had hoped that you might wait for him to come back to you someday. But why did you have to move on with his brother? And not just any brother, one he had always been close to. And how could Rex do this, he knew more than anyone, other than Fives at least, how much Echo had always loved you. Of course Echo knew that he should be happy for you, and part of him was, but seeing you and your family, seeing your happy smiles and the love in your eyes, just killed him. “Echo, vod, it’s so good to see you. How have you been?”, Rex asked as he put a hand on Echo’s shoulder and squeezed affectionately. Before Echo could answer you interrupted him with an apologetic smile. “Rex, we have to meet Padmé in 10 minutes, we better hurry. But Echo, how about you come by our apartment around 7 this evening and we’ll catch up?”

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Echo had debated whether to actually go and see you, but in the end he decided that he might regret it more if he backed out. Plus Hunter had basically pushed him out the door and left him no other choice. So here he was, in front of your apartment, which was only a couple of blocks away from the one you had lived in during the war. His fist had barely touched the door when you already pulled it open and ushered Echo inside. For a moment the two of you just stood in the hallway, looking at each other and not saying anything. “Rex just went to buy a bottle of wine, he should be back shortly”, you said as you lead Echo further into the apartment. He soon found himself in a larger room, which served as both living room and dining room, with the kitchen attached and only separated by a kitchen island. As he looked around he recognized most of the furniture from your old apartment, the one he had spent countless hours in, as well as photographs both old and new with many familiar faces in them. A couple were just you and Rex, but most of them had General Skywalker, Commander Tano, General Kenobi or Senator Amidala in them, along with many of his brothers. He also spotted his favourite picture, the one had had carried a copy of wherever he went, of him kissing your cheek while Fives enveloped the two of you in a hug. He was surprised to see it hanging in your living room. But what surprised him even more was how clean everything was. You had always been a tidy person, but he had suspected that children would still leave the place a bit messy. Speaking of... “Are Luke and Leia going to join us?”, he asked. A surprised look crossed your face before you shook your head. “They’re with Padmé and Anakin.” Echo nodded. Maybe it was for the best not to have the children around, the dinner would be awkward and they might only make it worse. “How nice of the General and Senator Amidala to babysit.” You stopped pouring water in your glass and looked at Echo in surprise. “They’re not babysitting, the twins are their kids. Rex and I were the ones who were babysitting this morning.” It was safe to say that Echo had not been expecting this revelation. He had been so sure that you and Rex were the parents. But his little moment of relief was cut short when he realized that this didn’t change anything. You and Rex were still a couple, you still lived together and had a life together, a life Echo had no place in. “Are you planning on having kids then?” The question was out before Echo could stop himself. This was none of his business, it might even be better if he didn’t know. But he just had to know, having children was the one thing about your future the two of you had never talked about, had never dared to even think about in the middle of a war, but that hadn’t stopped Echo from hoping to one day raise a family with you, and he had to know if his brother was now living that unspoken dream. “I’m not opposed to the idea, but who would I have a child with? I’m not really fond of the idea of doing this on my own”, you admitted with a nervous laugh. Echo tore his eyes away from the plate he had been fixating on to look at you. Try as he might, he couldn’t read your expression. “With Rex, of course. He’s your”, he started before stopping for a moment to scan your fingers for a ring, when he didn’t find one he continued. “Boyfriend. Rex is your boyfriend.” Saying the words out loud hurt, more than Echo would ever want to admit, but it was your laughter that actually broke his hear, and your words that mended it again. “Rex is not my boyfriend, he’s my friend. Probably my best friend and maybe more like a brother, but most certainly not my boyfriend.” After everything he had been through there wasn’t much that could render Echo speechless, but this confession could. It took him a moment, and a thorough scan of your serious expression, for him to formulate his next sentence. “But the two of you live together”, he finally said. For a moment you didn’t say anything. Then you took his hand, your skin still as soft and warm as he remembered, and led him over to your couch. Softly you pulled on his arm to get him to sit next to you, closer than he would have sat while still thinking that you were in love with his brother, but not as close as he really wanted. “Rex and I are friends, nothing more. We live together because no matter how much some politicians try, clones still have little rights and it was easier for him to move in with me than to get his own place. But Echo, I never, ever, though about Rex in any romantic way, nor he about me. I... There has only ever been one person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, one person I wanted to marry and have children with and grown old with, and that person is you. Echo, it’s always been you and it always will be. I loved you ever since you carried Fives into the medbay with his broken leg and I never stopped, not when I though you were dead, not when you went away with the Bad Batch. And seeing you again only showed me how much I missed you, how much I don’t want to let you go again. But of course I understand that you’ve probably moved on.” There were a million things Echo might have said, but for now he decided to forgo any explanations. Instead he put one of his hands on your waist and the other behind your head. Slowly he leaned closer, giving you every chance to pull way, but instead you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his in a gentle kiss. “I love you. Always have, always will”, he whispered against your lips before you reconnected in another kiss. The two of you were so busy with kisses and declarations of love that you didn’t notice the door opening and closing and Rex telling you that he’d spend the night at Cody’s to give the two of you a bit of privacy. But you didn’t notice and you didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were together again, you still loved each other and the galaxy was at peace, giving you time to rebuild your relationship and relishing in your love.

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This is short and unoriginal and corny, but after today’s episode I just had to write something about Echo and the idea of him misunderstanding your relationship with one of his brothers just popped into my head, and due to Echo’s obvious love for and trust in Rex in this episode it just had to be him

#echo x reader #echo imagine #tbb echo x you #arc trooper echo x reader #arc trooper echo imagine #echo x you #arc trooper echo x you #tbb echo x reader #tbb echo imagine

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anakinisvaderisanakin · 3 years

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Anakin is a victim AND a perpetrator.

So.

Someone (feel free to reply for hanging you out) told me that saying “Anakin was groomed by Palpatine but is still responsible for his actions” is victim blaming. The point that had Anakin been under 18, he would have been absolved of his crimes was argued. Point taken, but the thing is - Anakin was not. Anakin was, at the time of RotS and Order 66, an adult.

Anakin had at this time served as the general of an army during the war, and he was married to an expecting woman. He was a grown man, indeed with a traumatic past which I absolutely acknowledge shaped him - but he was an adult. Palpatine did not force him to commit genocide, he did not force him to step out and kill everyone in the Jedi temple. Anakin was given the option, and he chose wrong. It can be argued that Anakin didn’t even truly believe that Padmé could be saved, but Palpatine’s proposal was his best bet.

On top of that, it wasn’t exactly Padmé Anakin wanted to save as much as he wanted to shield himself from the grief of loss. He couldn’t bear his mother’s death, and didn’t want to have to deal with the same thing again. Anakin is incapable of letting go. Now, as an adult who is older than Anakin was during RotS (my little brother is the same age as he would have been), I can see that he was very young and most AMAB do not reach full psychological maturity until they pass 25. Anakin may still have had to develop emotionally and mentally, and as such, was still vulnerable.

Anakin had a past as a slave, a victim of bullying, exclusion, and othering. He had no father, clashed with Obi-Wan, had to keep his marriage secret, and was unable to protect Ahsoka from being falsely accused. Anakin had too much responsibility at too young an age, and too much responsibility for a youth with unaddressed trauma. But while the Jedi order did not deal with this trauma adequately, it is not their fault that Anakin decided to murder them. If a 22 year old goes to college and decides to kill every teacher and student associated with the facility because he was bullied and his groomer goaded him into it, he would still have killed those people. He would still be punished.

Another fact to consider is that Anakin didn’t stop here.

If he had not killed anyone else, if he had relented and accepted his punishment and followed Padmé and Obi-Wan back to Coruscant to a) imprison and/or execute Palpatine, and b) face charges for his crimes, he could have redeemed himself. He didn’t want to own up to it. Padmé offered him the chance to run away, but he denied it. When told Padmé had died, Anakin didn’t break free or reject Palpatine - he willingly joined him and continued his murder spree. He knew Obi-Wan would have forgiven him, yet he didn’t turn away from the Dark Side.

Anakin is, indeed, a tragic case.

But at the end of the day, despite the grooming from Palpatine, despite his trauma, despite the Dark Side being a thinly veiled allegory for addiction - he made the choice to not even try. If an addict steals heirlooms from their family to buy heroine, it’s sad but still a crime.

Anakin made the choice to murder small children. Whereas any other person might stop and think “hey, is it really okay for me to kill children on behalf of my father figure so I can save my wife?” he just slaughters them all. That’s where victimhood can no longer be claimed to explain away his agency, that’s where Anakin himself makes the active choice to dismiss what he knows is the right thing and crosses the line. This is where Anakin stops being merely a victim, and becomes the villain.

Obi-Wan made mistakes, the Jedi order made mistakes - but Anakin made this choice. He was a victim and a perpetrator. He became exactly what Palpatine wanted him to be - an accomplice. That’s why he’s such an interesting character, and that’s why denying the fact that Anakin himself went too far is a) misunderstanding his character, and b) a futile attempt at making a problematic fave come off as powerless.

This is where I leave this conversation, you will not convince me otherwise. You cannot proclaim yourself to love Anakin, when you do not accept that he was never a wholly good person to begin with. He was always flawed. You cannot proclaim yourself to love Anakin, if you do not admit that he is a monster in his own right and that part of what made him that way is, ultimately, he himself. If you deny that, you do not love Anakin and you do not understand his character.

Read the truth and weep, “Anakin lover”.

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space-blue · 2 years

Note

I’ll stop asking in multiples one day. For the fandom list. 1, 5, 10

Ehehe thanks for asking, multiple is fun! From these!

What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?

Since I'm pretty deep in the aroace waters, I generally don't really have OTPs and also don't really give a fuck what people like. I've shipped some really stupid stuff just for fun, and most of the time I can come up with a scenario that makes me "buy" any coupling.

What happens more often is that a pairing in canon will be baffling to me. Fanfic has the time to expend on a relationship, make it earned or believable. Also fanfic can tweak canon, so yeah. I can get behind pretty much any OTP in fandom if it's presented conclusively. I still have like, one Notp (Thrawn x Pryce), but it's not that I don't get it, just that I dislike it enough to block it from my dash and avoid all fics.

THIS BEING SAID. I cannot understand how canon is trying to sell us Cait x Vi. Sorry guys! Please don't take me to the pillory.

Cait is a 1% hyper privileged and a cop. Vi is a victim of a violent and abusive system, who lost her parents to cops lethal violence and also 5 to 10 years of her youth to cop abuse of power. She and Cait are so diametrically opposed, I cannot believe any normal and sane human being in Vi's position would fall for Cait within two days, no matter how cute or nice she is (and she's not very nice for a large part of it, and insanely naive the entire time).

I just feel like their entire "romance" was rushed at the cost of Vi's entire character integrity. I spent hours assimilating she knows, as a child, how downtrodden she is, how broken the system is, how much more suffering is in stock for them, and then boom, she suffers the worst possible fate short of death, and she falls for the first cute cop she meets? Please... Then she rats out her sister to the entire COUNCIL? Who are you and why are you haunting Vi's body?

So yeah, basically set out to write Fathers and Daughters specifically to fix Vi, because she's the lynchpin characters of this show, and she was done crazy disservice to hurry her into an unconfirmed 2 days romance with Cait.

Absolutely no shade here on Caitvi shippers. I'm very happy the main ship of the fandom is F/F, it's a breath of fresh air compared to so many others. Like I said, I'm certain a lot of fics out there actively fix their relationship by addressing my concern, deepening their relationship, stretching canon over more time, etc. I'm sure I could love those fics too. It's what is in canon that leaves me (；⌣̀_⌣́)

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?

Nah. I'm an old dysfunctional granny. I follow like 5 people and I'm liberal with my block button. If stuff gets heated over some ship I disconnect from that discourse and don't think about it.

Like I said above, I'm not really that concerned with shipping. Even if I read or write it, I tend to focus on platonic dynamics, found family, and if I ship, it's usually centric to one character. Sure I'll read Silco/anyone or Obi-Wan/Anyone.

So fandom would need to ruin Obi-Wan himself (fear), etc. Which I'm happy to report has never happened yet.

10. Most disliked arc? Why?

Siiiiiiiigh. I'm a Clone Wars fan. Why would you ask me that... I'll have to make a list!! x'D

In all seriousness, most of the Padmé & kiddie politics arcs, droid arcs, Jar Jar arcs (except his epic Windu team up one that was awesome lol)... But the arcs that grate me the most are the flawed ones that have amazing potential but never end up finished.

Umbara?? What happens to Tup???? How do the clones deal with trauma?? How does Anakin feel about his men being put through the grinder with a fallen Jedi? Does it not strain his relationship to Palps?

The Slavery arc. That was so fucked honestly, 14 yo Ahsoka hanging out in a fucking cage in the sun, getting grim promises from her future "owner", a grown ass man with a grudge... Like... There should have been far more repercussions to that. Where is the arc where they heal? Where is the arc where Obi-Wan deals with the after effect of the horrors he witnessed and endured?

Yes, it's a kid's show. But you are showing kids 10+ people being sent falling to their death for kilometers for one man to MAKE A POINT, so some "processing trauma" stuff can't exactly be deemed too dark.

And holy shit let's not forget Deception arc. I love it. Bane/Hardeen my grubby beloveds!! BUT—

WHERE IS THE AFTERMATH!! Obi-Wan CHOSE not to warn Anakin. He played dead, burnt all of his social bridges. It's insane that the show gives them a tiny aborted conversation and that this is never revisited again.

It's also a shame because it's a missed opportunity to spend more time looking at the bridge in confidence between Obi and Anakin. And yes, it's a kid's show. That could be addressed during another exciting mission.

I just feel like the show shies away from its own consequences a lot.

#thanks for the ask #that was too long a reply again #star wars #sw #arcane #fanfic #fandom #ask game #long post

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the-last-kenobi · 3 years

Note

AHHH YOU’RE TAKING REQUESTS 🚨🚨🚨 Okay okay uhhhhh I can’t decide between 13 or 18 so you choose! With hurt Obi-Wan and caretaker Anakin, please!

I AM INDEED TAKING PROMPTS

And because you’re amazing and I love all your writing I have decided to write both 13 and 18 into one story, we’ll see how this goes yikes.

From this various prompts list

Anakin moved quickly up the hallway, trying to keep his footsteps as soft as possible.

It was very late — or very early, depending on one’s point of view. The low-lights were on, and Anakin felt like he was intruding somehow, in this residential wing that was almost entirely deserted due to the war.

The damned war.

Anakin clenched his fists. I can’t afford to be angry right now, he told himself. I need to talk to Obi-Wan and I can’t start out by yelling at him.

It was tempting to lash out at Obi-Wan.

They hadn’t had a proper conversation in months, not since the Hardeen operation and everything that it had entailed, and then Obi-Wan up and vanished on some discreet mission, stopping only to ask Anakin for a ship to borrow.

Anakin had discovered Obi-Wan’s return only when Acquisitions had notified him that his ship would be late in returning to his care due to extensive damage. Flight logs indicated that his Master had returned a full five days before. Five days without so much as a comm message letting his lineage know he was back home. Nothing.

For a few hours Anakin had foundered, stewing in disbelief and anger, but as night crept in he had begun to feel something different.

Concern.

And something that might have been the Force, prompting him, pushing him.

And so here he was, silently keying in the manual code to Obi-Wan’s quarters — technically still his own, although he spent most nights at Padmé’s or in a private room.

The door swished open.

It was utterly dark.

That wasn’t unusual; when he had the chance, Obi-Wan preferred to sleep in complete darkness. He said it felt more natural. No distractions tugging at his brain.

What was unusual was the state of disarray.

There was a kettle sitting on the counter, so near the edge it made Anakin nervous. He walked over and moved it a few inches, his eyebrows flying up when he felt the weight. When he lifted the lid, it was obvious that this was days-old, and untouched to boot.

Was Obi-Wan sick? Was he in the Halls? Surely someone would have notified him. Surely.

Anakin looked around and took note of the robe discarded against the wall, the boots left in the middle of the walkway. There was an empty mug on the reading table, and a holo-still sitting beside it, as if Obi-Wan had stared at it for awhile and then set it down — the only item that looked carefully treated.

On closer inspection, it was a holo of Obi-Wan, far younger than Anakin had ever seen him, next to Qui-Gon and a dark-skinned woman he had never seen before.

Qui-Gon was in the center, facing a little to the left, his eyes on the woman, a full smile on his face. Anakin stared. The Jedi he remembered had been understated, his smiles always a little sad. This Qui-Gon looked about to throw his head back in laughter. The woman was looking down at Obi-Wan, who stood on Qui-Gon’s other side. She was nearly as tall as Qui-Gon, her hair was braided into several intricate sections; she was smirking conspiratorially at the young Padawan.

And Obi-Wan was smiling shyly back. Although his Master wasn’t looking at him, he had draped one arm around Obi-Wan, and the boy was leaning into the casual touch.

They all looked ridiculously young and ridiculously happy, and Anakin didn’t even know who one of them was. He had never heard of this woman, or why she wasn’t around any more, because she must not be, and he had certainly never heard stories of Obi-Wan’s apprenticeship. Not unless it was relevant to whatever they had been doing, or whatever lesson Obi-Wan had been trying to teach.

His Master was so damned secretive.

Angry again, Anakin replaced the holo-still and glanced around the room, thinking to check the Halls of Healing next.

Then he spotted something that made him instinctively recoil.

A Mandalorian helmet, sitting on the chair, painted in stark black and red and rendered in Death Watch’s style.

Heart hammering, Anakin picked it up and examined it, finding gouges and dents in the beskar alloy, signs of years of wear and tear.

Why was it here? Why was there a Death Watch helmet here, in their rooms? It didn’t make any sense!

His first wild thought was that the extremist group had somehow broken in, taken Obi-Wan, and left this behind. Then he mentally shook himself. That was beyond absurd.

So what then?

Anakin tucked the helmet under his arm and cautiously approached his former Master’s room, pressing the door aside slowly.

Obi-Wan was right there.

Sitting on his bed, dressed only in stained and scorched trousers and an undershirt, his head in his hands. His fingers were buried so deeply in his hair it looked as if he were trying to tear his skull open.

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin burst out without intending to, the last few hours of anger, confusion, and momentary panic getting the better of him.

Except the older man didn’t react at all.

“...Hey. Obi-Wan.”

After a pause, the man on the bed shifted slightly, and then sat up. His fingers hastily brushed his hair back into order as he did, and his face, though white as a sheet, was a perfectly blank mask.

Anakin didn’t buy a bit of it.

“Obi-Wan... tell me what’s going on.”

The man who was Obi-Wan but wasn’t acting at all like him gave a slight shrug. “There’s a lot going on, Anakin, we’re at war. What is it you needed at one in the morning?”

Well, at least he knows what time it is.

“You’ve been back for days. I haven’t seen you.”

“Ah. Your ship?”

“I’m not worried about the ship. I’m worried about you. I don’t even know where you were!” Anakin said, his voice rising again. He cut himself off quickly.

Obi-Wan frowned slightly. “I was... on leave.”

“On leave?” Obi-Wan didn’t go on leave. Obi-Wan never stopped working, hadn’t since Geonosis. “You said it was a mission.”

The older Jedi passed a hand over his mouth before speaking again. “I... it wasn’t an endorsed mission. I undertook it myself.”

A non-endorsed mission... “You mean you went off on your own?” Anakin demanded, shocked. “Tell me you weren’t chasing Maul!”

Obi-Wan went white to the lips. He opened his mouth to speak, and then he spotted the helmet under Anakin’s arm and choked on his words, falling dead silent.

Anakin considered for a moment. Then he studied the helmet again. Taking it in.

Death Watch.

Mandalore.

A personal, self-assigned mission.

Satine.

Red and black.

Maul.

“...Oh, Force, Obi-Wan.” Anakin said numbly. Thinking of Padmé. Thinking of Obi-Wan and the confession he’d made to Satine, one that Anakin had not been meant to overhear. “I’m so sorry.”

Obi-Wan said nothing.

He just stared at Anakin for a few moments before nodding his head in acknowledgement.

Anakin set the helmet down on the desk and edged closer to the bed, his eyes on his friend, wary as if he were approaching a traumatized animal. “Can I sit?”

A nod.

Anakin sat down.

“...Is it all right if I hug you?”

A very long pause. A small nod.

Anakin placed his palm on Obi-Wan’s back, then slowly moved so his arm was around the man’s shoulders. When Obi-Wan didn’t pull away, Anakin drew closer, tilting his head down to rest on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Like he had when he was younger, and his Master was the best in the Temple, in the whole galaxy, and there was no war, just missions and too much meditation and time enough to just sit like this when they were tired and overwrought.

Obi-Wan shuddered in his hold. Not repulsed, but something else. Like he was cold.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked.

His friend shook his head, but trembled harder, his breathing fluctuating.

“Obi-Wan.”

“Feel... nauseous,” the redhead mumbled, and then he doubled over, toppling head over heels towards the floor. Anakin cried out, lunged and caught him just in time, hauling his former Master into his arms and holding him, his heart pounding from the sudden shock.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept? Or eaten?” he demanded, thinking of the tea kettle.

“Mm... not since the night I got back. For eating. I don’t know about sleeping. I honestly... can’t remember...” Obi-Wan murmured. He was shivering now, his face pale and twisted with discomfort. He looked too weak to move, and he really must have been, because all he managed when Anakin cradled him closer and stood up with him in his arms was a low groan.

“We’re going to the Halls,” Anakin informed him curtly, striding out of the room with Obi-Wan in his arms, still trembling.

Obi-Wan made a noise of protest, but Anakin shook his head. “No. You need to see Healers.” He watched his friend’s eyes mist over vaguely, with grief or with illness it was hard to say. “I’ll stay with you the whole time,” Anakin vowed, meaning every word. “It’ll be fine. As soon as they’re ready to release you we’ll come right back here and you can sleep in your own bed.”

Obi-Wan mumbled something that seemed to include, ‘not a child.’

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m not your Padawan anymore. We still boss each other around. Just how it is,” Anakin said.

Obi-Wan huffed a laugh, tilting his head against Anakin’s shoulder. He took a deep breath. Then another. And then he was asleep.

“Damn,” Anakin whispered aloud. “Damn, damn, damn, you’re really not in good shape. You shouldn’t be this easy to carry, for one thing. Dammit, Obi-Wan. Why do you have to be so secretive?”

Is he secretive?

Or have I just never asked, and never listened?

Anakin honestly didn’t know, and that bothered him.

“Sleep, Master,” he murmured, adjusting his arms so that Obi-Wan was more comfortable. “We’ll talk when you’re ready. I promise. I’ve got you. We’re going to make it through this whole damn war, together.”

#star wars #my writing #writing prompts #let the boys talk and hug #please #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #obi wan and anakin #angst prompt #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #is this too ooc?#I can’t tell #it’s 1:30 am #I haven’t slept in two days #two days and two nights?#idk

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damnedparker · 4 years

Text

an understanding

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x reader (gender neutral; no y/n)

warnings: buncha angst, sad obi-wan, deals with grief and loss

summary: as the two of you grow together, there is one constant of support between you and obi-wan; understanding, and the comfort of each other’s hands

also posted on ao3

this is kind of short but that’s okay. someone give obi-wan a hug

“You took my spot.” You announced your presence, although you’re sure Obi-Wan already sensed it, as you had been standing at the entrance to the roof watching him for a few moments already. The both of you often came up to the roof of the Temple, finding your way up here when you were just beginning to be padawans, sneaking out at night together to get up to whatever shenanigans you pleased before someone inevitably caught you. From then on, you had learned to be more careful about it.

When Obi-Wan didn’t answer, his head still turned towards the night skyline, you came to sit next to him. You could feel the anxiety and grief radiating off of him. Another nightmare tonight. If he had even gotten any sleep at all. Not only could you sense his tired state, but he was also visibly shivering, but seemed to be ignoring it.

“Stars, you’re freezing, Obi,” you murmured, shrugging off the cloak you had fortunately thrown on before climbing up to the roof. You wrapped it around the both of you, squishing yourself against his side. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing,” He scoffed, uncharacteristically bitter. His eyes were glassy, clearly having cried already, and not far off from succumbing to his tears again. “I miss him. And I know I’m not supposed to be dwelling on it like this. I have to train Anakin and I’m not ready. I’m not ready to be a Knight. Everything is moving too fast.” You bit the inside of your cheek and wondered if he could hear your heart shatter for him. The Force had dealt Obi-Wan the worst cards in existence it seemed, one after the other, rushing him into the responsibilities of a Jedi Knight and the grief of the loss of a mentor all at once, and far too soon.

“I miss him, too,” you laid a comforting hand on his cheek, a tear slipping down and landing on the pad of your thumb. You gently rubbed it away, sighing. “Qui-Gon was so proud of you, Ben. He trusted you with his wishes because he believed you could fulfill them. He was confident in your competence and skill as both a Knight and a mentor.”

“How do you know that?” He whispered, screwing his eyes shut. Pieces turned to dust in your heart as you watched and felt your closest and dearest friend in so much pain. Pain that he knew he shouldn’t be letting consume him, which threw guilt into the whirlwind of emotions he was already feeling.

“I felt it,” you tilted your head at him in sincerity. “I heard it. Every time he spoke to you, about you. You were his son, as you think of him your father.” You slid your hand to his jaw. “No one would be ready for the position you’ve been put in. But, Obi-Wan,” you dropped your hand into your lap. “You can do this. If anyone can get through this, you can. You’re the best of us all.” Obi-Wan turned away, staring out at the stars again, his hand immediately reaching up to where his padawan braid had been just days before, now gone at his passage into Knighthood. Not knowing what to do, he rubbed his shaky palm against his pants repeatedly, trying to wipe off the clamminess that wasn’t there. Without thinking, you reached down to touch his hand. He immediately took it in both hands, beginning to play with your fingers, occasionally running his thumb over the back of your hand, which seemed to ease his nerves. “You’re not alone,” you took this moment to remind him. “I’m here for you, always.” Obi-Wan turned to you then, locking his eyes with yours in desperation. In hope. An understanding passed silently between the two of you as you pressed against his side, your hand still in his, and leaned your head on his shoulder. Care. And love.

II.

It was a cloudy night as you walked mindlessly around the halls of the Temple, which were empty and abrasively quiet. That did nothing but spur on your nervous headspace as you continued pacing, pulling your cloak, which was actually Obi-Wan’s, closer around you. You hadn’t given it back to him yet from your last mission together, where it had gotten chilly on the journey back to Coruscant, and he had given it to you as a blanket while you slept. Your thoughts trailed back to him, and a blush crossed your face at the thought.

Before you knew it, you had ended up at a certain familiar door in the hall of living quarters in the Temple. It was as if the brief passing thought of Obi-Wan had steered you in his direction out of pure instinct. You stared at his door for a long moment, and just as you raised your hand to knock, the door whooshed open to reveal the man that had crossed your mind only briefly, his shoulder-length hair tousled, clad in only some lounging trousers.

“Are you alright?” His eyebrows drew up in concern, clearly feeling your distress grow strong as you let your already withering walls fully drop around him. “Come here, dearest.” He pulled you into his quarters, leading you to sit on his bed with him, where a mug of tea sat on his nightstand, his holopad laying near his pillow. It was late at night, but it wasn’t a surprise that the man was still awake. It was a wonder how he functioned when he rarely slept. Before you could protest, he stood and began to pour you tea of your own out of the batch he had already made, pressing your own mug into your hands. You managed a small smile in thanks to him, a sip from the tea providing you comfort, but not nearly as much as his presence. “What’s got you pacing around the Temple this late?”

“I dunno, I—” you sighed, shaking your head. “This war, the council, the code, everything just feels like too much right now. I’m thinking things I shouldn’t,” you paused, running a hand over your face in frustration. “I don’t even know what I’m thinking anymore.” Obi-Wan laid a comforting hand on your back, urging you to go on. “I just can’t help but think all sides in this war are flawed, including the Jedi, and not just the council’s decisions. The code as well. Everything is just so—so completely twisted. And unfair. It’s tiring to see.” Tears burned at the back of your throat, thinking of all the injustice you had encountered, but not had the resources to fix over the first few months of the Clone Wars that had already transpired. Jedi were peacekeepers, meant to help, but how could there have ever been peace, even before the war, if so many societies were struggling to survive?

“I don’t disagree with you,” Obi-Wan mused, sliding his hand away from your back to rest on the bed behind you. He stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Nothing in this world is perfect, especially when concerning war. It’s good to have skepticism, it is what keeps things in balance.” He watched you fondly as you stared down at the warm mug in your hands, deep in thought as you mulled over his words. “We are doing what we can, and I know that sometimes it may not feel like enough, but sometimes that is all we can do. It is all that you can do, and you do more than most, darling. It is unfortunate, but even the Jedi cannot fix everything. You cannot fix everything.”

“It doesn’t feel like it, Obi,” you sighed, setting your tea aside next to his on the nightstand. “I just hate all of this.” You clenched your now empty hands in your lap, so tightly your fingernails pressed into your palms.

“It will be alright,” he told you softly, sincerely. “You are not alone.” Obi-Wan reached over and placed his hands over your fists, gently massaging them open. His warm palms touched yours, thumb running over the side of your hand to soothe you. You almost stopped breathing when he raised his head slightly, leaning forward to press his lips to your forehead. The affection warmed you all over, your stomach twisting in the most pleasant way. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?” A smile crossed your lips as you nodded, remembering when you were padawans, and he used to sneak into your quarters at night when he couldn’t sleep, begging to share your bed with you. It was a miracle you never got caught.

Obi-Wan left briefly to put away your mugs, and you took the opportunity to slip underneath the blankets and get comfortable. He returned only a little after you had settled in, flicking off his lamp and sliding in next to you. There were a few unsure moments of stillness before you felt him nudge his body close to yours, and his front pressing to your back, an arm slipping beneath your neck, his other settling on your waist.

“Is this alright?” He murmured against your neck, and you whispered back your affirmation, settling into the warmth of his embrace. Your breathing began to slow and even out, matching his, where you could feel little puffs against your neck from where he had pressed his nose there.

As you began to drift off, you felt his hand gently slide down to find yours resting against your stomach. He pushed his fingers between the spaces of yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, and rubbing his thumb up and down the back of your hand in a soothing repetition.

III.

A strange silence filled the air as you and Obi-Wan settled into the small tavern room you were staying in for the night before you could find an appropriately discreet and permanent residence on Tattooine. So much had happened, but it was difficult to put any of it into words, and felt almost pointless to speak of, when you felt helpless in the aftermath of it all. Anakin, Padmé, the twins, the fall of the republic, the extinction of the Jedi Order. It was too much. How were you supposed to move on?

You swallowed the coming tears yet again, changing into a fresh pair of civvie sleep clothes you had managed to buy at a market you had passed on the way into town. You turned to where Obi-Wan was sitting, still as a statue at the edge of the bed, already dressed down in just his trousers for sleep. The silence continued as you sat next to him, close as can be, your sides touching as a form of comfort. Out of what now had become a habit when the two of you were alone, Obi-Wan grabbed your hand to hold. A melancholy smile crossed your face at the familiarity. You may have lost everything, but you still had each other.

“I love you,” Obi-Wan’s strained voice, holding back tears, cracked the silence of the dim room. “I’ve loved you since we were padawans. I need you to know that. I can’t seem to tell people that until it’s too late.” His voice cracked on the last word, and a jolt of bitter regret surged through his signature, so strong you could have physically flinched.

“I know, Obi,” you told him softly, reaching up to run your hand through his hair comfortingly. “So did Anakin. You were a brother to him, just the same as he was to you.” You murmured, squeezing his hand in reassurance. More silence passed between the two of you, accented by occasional creaks of other patrons moving around through the thin walls. Ever so gently, you channeled a push of affection in the Force towards him, enveloping him in its warmth. “I love you. We’re going to be alright.” He finally met your gaze as you spoke to him, the both of you with silent tears slipping down your face. He took your face in his hands, running his thumbs over your cheeks. He leaned close to press his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

“We’re going to be alright,” he echoed, sighing and trying desperately to steady himself, as much as he could. “As long as I am with you, I know we’re going to be alright.” He seemed to be reassuring himself just as much as offering comfort to you. You closed the gap between the two of you in a kiss, one that was far past overdue. It seemed to last forever, the two of you basking in the closeness of each other, the relief of finally airing your feelings, as well as being able to let a positive emotion free, let that take over rather than the overbearing sadness that weighed heavy on your mind, and was sure to make rebuilding your lives tough. But you could get through it. For each other. With each other. That feeling of certainty surrounded the both of you as you pulled away, although tinged with grief and loss, it was still reassurance just the same. You were not alone.

#obi wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #star wars fic #obi wan fluff #obi wan angst #my fics #obi wan needs a hug

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whirlybirbs · 5 years

Text

( gif from the lovely @starwarsfilms. )

--- LOVE SICK. ;

summary: khairyn sar is an important holiday within nabirian religion -- it celebrates love and fertility. obi-wan gets a gift for you from the lower-level markets, aided by a helpful women who urges him to buy a certain plant... pairing: obi-wan x handmaiden!reader, established in this fic & this fic as well. word count: 8k warnings: this is porn with a dash of sex pollen trope / nsfw, 18+ a/n: i am literally not even sorry. here’s a late valentine’s day piece for you all, my lovely lil valentines. pls don’t repost!

It’s a holiday.

Maybe not on Coruscant, but to the Naboo senators and delegates on Coruscant, it is.

Padmé’s usual senatorial garb is exchanged for one of deep reds and a grandiose headpiece that mirrors the visage of Khairtai, the goddess of Fertility and Love. Beside her, Dormé, Sabé, Ellé and yourself bear a smudging of crimson down the center of your foreheads. It’s from the crushed millaflower -- ground into a fine, deep red powder and blessed by the resident royal Pontifex.

Your outfits mirror Padmé’s, hair pinned back tightly into a tight, neat braids with a golden pin halo-ing your heads. It’s of religious significance; each comb bearing two bounding ash-rabbits. Symbols of fertility.

The Royal house of Naboo, namely the Amidala’s, are one of many devout to the Brotherhood of Cognizance -- a polytheistic, monastic, allegorical based religion. Padmé herself was a larger worshipper of Shiraya, the goddess of the moon; Obi-Wan, on more than one account, found himself rather enraptured with the large statue on the outside patio of her Senatorial apartment upon visits with his friend.

In the evening sunset, the goddess’ moon shaped harp frames the horizon quite perfectly. Obi-Wan always wondered if it was some sort of metaphor -- perhaps that Padmé was right where she needed to be, away from the throne and serving her people worlds away.

She’d moved to Coruscant following the ending of her second term of Queen, promptly slipping into her elected position as Senatorial representative. With her, she’d brought Dormé, Ellé, Sabé, and you -- along with a small squad of royal guards. Though, Obi-Wan believed she hardly needed them. Padmé’s handmaidens were more than capable.

You were more than capable.

Obi-Wan, from the upper deck of the Senate’s session, can hardly tear his eyes away from you -- you look rather stoic beside the ex-Queen. You’d joked a few days ago to him that you needed to mind you expressions when some of the other Senators spoke. Obi-Wan bites back a chuckle when F’aralo Pxo from Ithor finally stops babbling and your awfully sour look fades.

Crossing his arms, the young Jedi Knight watches as the session is dismissed by Sheev Palpatine and the large, cavernous room begins to dissipate of senators and delegates.

Obi-Wan Kenobi catches you and the others on the sixteenth floor, about to enter Padmé’s apartment.

“Merry Khairyn Sar.”

He strides close, like a glimmering star flashing across the sunset. Handsome and bright-eyed -- you wonder if your heart will ever cease it’s crescendo of excitement when you see him. Your stomach flips and you can’t help but stare at the appearance of one certain Jedi Knight.

The gaggle of women turn on their heels, their faces lighting up at the appearance of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Your face, by far, is the brightest.

“I only have a minute, but I thought I might come say hello.”

The two of you bite your tongues, amused little smirks threatening to bloom on your faces. It’s childish, but it’s lovely.

Padmé laughs happily at the sight of you both, moving to gesture for Obi-Wan to come in -- once inside the apartment, the Jedi is quick to loop his arms around your waist and haul you high; the reunion is short and sweet and brings smiles to the faces of your closest confidants as the move to spread throughout the apartment. Your earrings sway as you grapple with his shoulders, sliding down him when he places you back on the plush carpet carefully.

The others have known since... gods, what? Years ago?

Before Anakin had even reached puberty and before Obi-Wan had started growing this beard out. You recall in this moment the first time you’d seen him since his diplomatic mission to Naboo, when you’d fallen in love with the kind-hearted Padawan, and how the others had been so keen on seeing the romance play out on the tarmac.

They had, after all, read the correspondences the Jedi had sent in the time apart from one another.

It’s been four years since -- and yet, the sickly sweet tempo of love is still enough to make your knees weak. Seeing him, though often enough now that you’re permanent residency is on Coruscant, is still enough to bring a needy whine to your heartstrings.

“Don’t you have a Padawan to be minding?” you grin, kissing him quickly as he smiles. The prick of stubble tickles.

“The younglings have a trip to the Archives today,” Obi-Wan explains, bowing slightly to chase your words with a kiss to your cheekbone, “But I do have a council meeting within the hour..”

You swat at his chest gently. “What have I said? Anakin is not a youngling. He’s fifteen --”

“Acts like it,” Padmé supplies, pointing at Obi-Wan who mirrors her amused-yet-trying-not-to-seem-it look, “I’ve heard the stories.”

“I’ll have greys because of him soon, I swear it.”

Another kidding swat. This time, the ruddy haired man catches it and laughs warmly. He holds your hand closely, kissing your knuckles. Your face grows hot as sheepishness creeps up your collar due to the semi-public display of affection.

“I have a gift for you,” he says quietly, eyes softening, “For Khairyn Sar.”

You should have known Obi would have figured out about the holiday.

He was a romantic -- charismatic about love and flirtatiously sweet.

Of course a holiday celebrating love would be right up his alley. You hold your tongue -- you wonder if Obi-Wan truly understands the meaning of Khairyn Sar, or if to him, this is a just a small patronage holiday dedicated to romance.

Khairyn Sar is an important holiday within Cognizance. Weddings and performative engagement ceremonies are large parts of the holiday, as well as... well, plainly put: conceptions.

Nearly every devout Nabirian’s dream would be to conceive a child on Khairyn Sar. Those born within nine months of the day are said to be gifts from Khairtai herself, after all. Those with the blessed with being a Khairtai’é frequently found success within relationships, love, and careers. Fertility meant more than simply sex.

Padmé is a Khairtai’é. She truly did have the making of a Queen.

Ellé speaks up from the couch, balancing her vibroblade on her fingertip effortlessly and watching you both. “...Obi-Wan, you do you have a brother?"

“Maybe a cousin?” asks Sabé, melodic and sweet, “A single cousin?”

“A sister, even,” Dormé croons, dropping her chin into her hand -- her voice goes a bit mopey, “I wish someone would bring me a gift for Khairyn Sar.”

It is akin to announcing your love to the world, after all.

Obi-Wan offers one of his trade-mark smiles. The dimples beneath the blonde shadow of his beard are charming and Padmé can’t help but grin as he watches you blink up at him with a moonstruck look that says it all:

You love him.

“I’m afraid not,” he apologizes, hand gracing the small of your back, “Though, if I find any formidable suitors of the Royal Handmaidens of Naboo, I’ll make sure I let you all know.”

“You better,” Dormé swats at his shoulder as she passes by, hanging her cloak and grinning when the Jedi leans to swats her back.

In the last few weeks, he’s become a fast friend -- they’re all within the same age, and Obi-Wan had fallen easily into a brotherly cadence when it came to the girls; you trusted them all, and so, he did as well. Happily. He’d known them all briefly from the time him and Qui-Gon had on Naboo during the negotiations with the Trade Federation... Dormé, Sabé and Ellé had all been on the Nubian by your side when you’d first met the charming Padawan.

“I’ve got to go,” he breathes, leaning to kiss the crown of your head, “Will I see you later?”

You nod, enjoying the warm pass of his fingers on your cheek.

“Of course,” you promise, “Dinner?”

"Dex’s?”

You groan happily, bending a bit in the knees as you nod vigorously at the thought of fries and a shake. Not the most glamorous meal, but a favorite of you both and a safe haven from the Senate and Council.

“Yes, please.”

Obi-Wan grins, tosses a wink, and sneaks out the door with a wave.

As soon as the door shuts, Dormé is quickly to speak.

“You better marry that man.”

“Someday,” a mindful smile, “For now --”

“For now,” Ellé points, “Please give that man a night worth remembering.”

“Ellé!”

You scold your sister-in-duty with a sheepish look of modesty on your face, swatting at her as you fall beside her on the couch. The others laugh.

If only you had any idea what was in store for both you and Obi-Wan.

✶ --- ✶ --- ✶

You meet him outside of Dex’s as the sun begins to set, happily falling into both his arms and the smell of fried food wafting from inside. It’s not often that you’re able to make the trek to the lower levels with him, and seeing the friendly Besalisk owner, Dexter Jettster, was a perk -- the four-armed man had always been kind to you. Fatherly, almost.

He’s tenfold that with Obi-Wan.

Dex happily supplies a hot plate of fries and two bantha burgers you and Obi’s way, free-of-charge. Dex mentions something about owing Obi-Wan for dealing with “those damn kids last week”. You raise a brow, taking a big bite of your burger, and Obi-Wan waves his hand.

“Street kids,” a shrug, “Pick-pocketing.”

“They stole the damn credit drawer!”

“Mm,” you mumble shaking your head at his uncanny ability to downplay every situation, “Always the humble hero, huh?”

He nudges you with his boot as he laughs, dropping his gaze into his meal. You have a way of making him feel sheepish. It’s been years, but your words of flirtation still strike him in his composure. His cheeks are rosy when he looks up, wiping sauce from the corner of his beginning-beard.

“You love it.”

“I do,” you waggle a fry in his face, spurring a breathless laugh from the Jedi, “Very much. So much, that I’m spending Khairyn Sar with you, in a diner, eating terrible food -- no offense, Dex... Says a lot, y’know.”

“None taken,” the cook calls out from behind the counter, “Merry Khairyn Sar, kid. Yer lucky, Obi-Wan! Those Naboo girls usually spend tha’ holiday with th’ man they’re set t’ marry --”

“Hear that,” you call, raising a finger and pinning Obi in his spot with an amused look as you both play-off your well-kept secret, “You’re lucky.”

“I am,” Obi-Wan clears his throat nudging your boot as you nudge it right back, “Aren’t I, Dex?”

“Sure are,” the Besalisk chortles, “If y’ weren’t a Jedi I’d say hurry up ‘n’ marry ‘er already!

Oh, if only he knew.

“Thanks, Dex,” you say sweetly, throwing an appreciative look the cook’s way, “And thanks for keeping this one in line.”

A big, guffaw of laughter meets your words and Dex hits the counter. “He’s trouble!”

“He is,” you shake your head, “He has everyone fooled. Everyone thinks he’s a flawless Jedi Knight, but he’s trouble. I’ve been saying it for years...”

Obi’s eyes crinkle with fondness. You mirror it.

“I love you,” he mouthes when Dex’s back is turned.

“I love you, too,” you mouth back.

✶ --- ✶ --- ✶

You like Obi-Wan’s quarters.

They’re very him.

Warm, quiet and neat.

The room could be considered a bit small, but with a reasonable sized refresher and a large bed, you find no reason to complain. There are a few trinkets lining the shelves above his bed -- tokens of missions and trainings.

Among them is a pebble from the beaches of the Lake Country; one he’d taken before leaving Naboo after the negotiations. You and him had spent hours on that beach, swimming and rolling in the sand, before things changed. Before Qui-Gon’s death and his rise to Knighthood.

He doesn’t have many belongings, but so is the way of the Code.

His bedroom is a familiar space, now. You’ve spent many nights in this room, tucked beside him in the vanilla colored sheets. You wish it was every night. But, you both knew you needed to keep suspicions low. You were just thankful that Obi-Wan’s direct neighbor, Aayla Secura, was wise enough not to ask questions.

The lights to his room are warm and low, illuminated strips of light coming from beneath the shelving -- the large bay windows that reach from floor to ceiling frame the colorful air-lanes illuminating the night sky of Coruscant’s Senate District. Like stars weaving a path, traffic moves slow across the horizon.

Obi locks the door behind him before his hands find your waist and he drops a kiss to your shoulder. You can feel the warmth through the layers of your cloak and dress, smiling as he fiddles with your hips and noses your ear.

“Do you want to see the gift?”

You nod, chewing your lip and turning to catch him in a quick kiss. The Jedi leans in, putty in your hands. Obi-Wan makes an appreciative sound when you hold his jaw, pulling him over you as you bend back a bit.

“Alright,” he says, a little breathless, before pecking another kiss, “Stay here.”

You do as your told, laughing as he takes two steps forward only to retreat back for another smile-laden kiss. He disappears into the walk-in closet; as he does, you strip your cloak from your shoulders and toss it on the bed.

Obi-Wan returns, sans his own robe, clutching something behind his back.

You quirk a brow, noting the incredibly excited look plastered on his face.

“Close your eyes.”

“Obi-Wan,” you warn playfully as you do as your told, “If it bites --”

“It doesn’t bite.”

“I swear,” you outstretch your hands, palms up, eyes closed tight, “It it bites...”

He’s laughing. “It won’t bite!”

Suddenly, there’s a cool, heavy weight in your hands. It’s glass, you realize quickly, and as Obi-Wan smiles, you peel your eyes open and quickly sigh in awe.

“Obi...” the bouquet is large, with three or four different flowering bursts of color nestled inside a large vase, “It’s beautiful.”

You’re quick to move across the room, placing the bouquet down on his desk as he hovers, watching you tut over the flowers -- all of them Naboo natives, you realize with a slack jaw. Your whirl around, handing finding his chest. He smiles, dimples kissing his face.

“You didn’t have to --”

“Oh, hush,” he chides, hand sweeping a circle along your lower back as you bend and admire the plants with gentle hands, “I wanted to.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“I only wish...” a soft sigh as he leans forward and pokes at the stem of a deep purple plant that’s clasped shut tightly, “This one refused to bloom, it seems.”

In hindsight, you should have known better.

You should have known what was going to happen when you reached out and touched the plant the same time as him. You should have known a puff of pink pollen would come flying out, right into your face. You should have known the smell would make you gag and Obi-Wan do the same.

You should have known.

You stagger back, grabbing his arm.

“Oh gods --”

“Open a window.”

“What the hell was that thing, Obi?!”

You should have known.

“Open a window!”

“It’s moving,” you screech, carrying the vase in outreached arms as your make a disgusted face and quite literally run to Obi-Wan who is throwing open the small window of his refresher, “Ohmygod, does it bite?!”

“I don’t care to find out!”

“It smells,” you choke, “It smells --”

“Give it to me --”

“What’re you -- Obi!”

Obi-Wan Kenobi, trained Jedi Knight and well-regarded rising leader within the Council’s tanks, promptly takes the bouquet from your hands and lobs it out the thirtieth story window of his quarters’ refresher in the Jedi Council building, vase and all, all while maintaining eye contact.

He quickly slams the window shut and drops his hands to his waist with a panicked look on his face. He looks pained, like he can hardly believe he just did that.

There’s a beat of silence as your mouth falls open, then you cry:

“...What was that thing?!”

“I don’t know!” he throws his hands as his agitation peaks, “The woman at the market said it was for Khairyn Sar -- she kept, gods, she kept saying it over and over --”

Oh.

“... Obi.”

“... What do you mean ‘Obi’?” Obi-Wan’s voice nearly splinters, panic striking hard and fast across the Jedi’s face at the slow realization in your tone, “Don’t say -- don’t say ‘Obi’ like that -- You know it worries me, when you say --”

“Did she say Khairyn Sar,” you annunciate the syllables slowly, moving from the bathroom and sitting on the edge of the bed as you dot the sounds with your finger in the air, “Or, did she say Khaitai Rysar?”

Obi-Wan blinks.

“... Is there a difference...?” he pushes a hand through his hair as you drop your head back and groan; quickly he breathes out a sheepish mutter, “From the look on your face, there’s clearly a difference --”

“Khairtai Rysar is a plant -- named after the two god’s who... they... it’s... Oh my gods --” you drop your face into your hands, not bothering to tip-toe around the subject any longer, “You bought a sex plant, Obi-Wan!”

He blinks. His mouth moves but no words come out. His brows climbs his face. He tilts his head. The look is owlish and mildly terrified.

A pause.

“... Excuse me?”

His voice is an octave higher than usual.

“Khairtai Rysar is a plant from Naboo,” you squeak out, flopping backwards onto the bed and groaning, “It’s a gift typically given to newly weds. It’s got a pollen that acts as an powerful hypnotic aphrodisiac --”

"Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“-- When we touched it, it must have blossomed,” you barely manage, rubbing your face and sighing, “The spores are extremely potent. Any contact with them is...”

Obi-Wan’s face falls and when you pull your hands from your face, you see him staring at the spattering of pink pollen across your nose and cheeks. You shoot up straight before pulling away your hands and gawking, realizing you need to wash your hands right now because you’re covered in the pollen --

Quickly, you dash into the refresher as your curse when you see your now pinkish reflection and make work on scrubbing your face and hands.

Obi-Wan had lucked out -- well, to a degree. The pollen had only caught him partially; cast off from when you’d staggered back and grabbed onto him.

“Oh, this is horrible,” you mumble, washing your face with ice cold water and staring at him in the mirror, “Horrible, but hilarious -- stop looking like you’ve murdered me --”

“I feel horrible!” he cries, face pulled into an apologetic look, “Gods, I’m sorry --”

“Maybe we can... just... sleep it off?” you offer, wiping your face with a towel he offers, “Right? I mean, I’d by lying if I said I wasn’t anticipating us sleeping together anyways --”

Obi’s fiddling with the facial hair along his jaw, nodding as you speak. “Well, yes. Considering the holiday -- I’d planned for it.”

“I mean -- I feel fine,” you wave your hands, “Do you feel fine?”

“Yes,” he nods, sea-green eyes watching your expression, “I -- I feel fine.”

You’re both panicking.

“Okay,” a little squeak, “So... let’s just... try -- try to sleep it off. For now.”

“And if we can’t?”

You hesitate. Both of you swallow.

“Let us cross that bridge when we get there,” Obi-Wan offers, sounding a bit pained, not even wanting to think about the answer to his own question.

✶ --- ✶ --- ✶

Neither of you can sleep.

It’s been about an hour since the entire debacle began.

You’re both laying awake, staring at the ceiling, shoulder-to-shoulder.

Not that you can blame one another -- you both tend to shoot as straight as an arrow when it came to... stimulants. You really had no need for death-sticks or spice, and Obi-Wan was the same. Having come to terms with the fact you both will be out of control in a matter of hours is a bit terrifying, especially considering the delicate balance of things.

Hiding your relationship wasn’t easy.

In reality, it brought with it a wide array of challenges, including the whole fact that you and Obi-Wan, more often than not, needed to be quiet and quick about sex.

Your encounters were always sweet; always gentle and loving and brought on by moments of happiness or longing. Seeing him for the first time in a while always brewed up arousal in your gut -- you couldn’t help it. It came with the territory of love. Just seeing Obi-Wan smile somedays was enough to snap that coil and wind it tightly in your gut.

After all, he is so damn handsome.

Even now, looking mildly horrified and extra concerned, he looks handsome -- his profile illuminated by the moonlight pouring in from the windows.

The Jedi exhales, rubbing his face, and turns to eye you in the dark light of the room.

You’re already staring -- in the dark, he can make out the trace of a smile on your lips. It’s endearing, and it puts him at ease to know this big mistake hasn’t caused you to hate him

Yet.

“Do you feel any different...?”

You shake your head, pulling your lips into a grimace.

“Maybe I was wrong?” you mumble, “But I’ve heard others tell stories about the smell. Like... rotting meat. There was a guard once, when I was in the Naboo Royal Academy, who was out for an entire week on account of the plant. He’d just been married and...”

Obi-Wan swallows. “I can’t believe --”

“Ah!” you tut, raising a finger, “Stop -- if we’re both about to be off our minds on some aphrodisiac love pollen, it’d just like to remind you that this could be a lot worse.”

“Oh? And how’s that?”

You roll over, prop your chin up in your hand, and quirk a playful brow. “You know I’m good at riding things out --”

Both of Obi’s brows rise at your words, his face warping into something of curious contemplation -- he props his head up, mirroring your position in bed. “Has the pollen already gotten you in its grips, then?”

You laugh, ducking your head and snorting a little. “I’m just saying! Trying to stay positive.”

“You’re a wretched minx and you know,” he mumbles, leaning in to steal a kiss, “That I quite enjoy when you do ride things out. Ever the optimist.”

“So, worst case scenario...”

“We lock ourselves in this room for a week?”

“Or we just... get it out of our systems. Ride it out.”

Obi-Wan hums, flopping back down to the pillows. “Right. Ride it out.”

✶ --- ✶ --- ✶

That bridge Obi-Wan had talked about crossing?

Well, it arrives a little past midnight.

And along with it, a roaring river runs below.

You wake up feeling like your body is two hundred degrees and climbing. At first, you’d just figured you’d had one too many covers on you -- Obi-Wan did have a bad habit of being a small space heater -- and so you’d opted to crawl on-top of the covers. But, even that’s not enough.

In your half-asleep haze, you’d nearly forgotten about the earlier events of the night. But, it’s when the sudden urge to strip flashes to the forefront of your mind, you remember exactly what had happened with that damn Khairtai Rysar plant.

You’re peeling off the spare tunic Obi had lended you in a flash, skin glistening with a feverish sweat -- you give in to the urge and nearly sigh when your skin hits the cool air.

Your eyes drift as you sway a bit, room spinning slightly from the quick movement.

The moon casts a cool glow over the man snoring softly beside you, his own shirt having been discarded a few minutes ago. His arm is over his eyes, his entire body above the sheets.

His trousers hang low on his hips and you watch him breathe out a sigh.

He’s dreaming.

The dip of his waist is where your eyes glue themselves, for some reason, and your lapse in reality draws to a conclusion between your legs. The ache there is... horrible. Suddenly, you realize you’re uncomfortable, and you shift in bed. Your mind feels like it’s six steps behind your body.

You lay back down, rolling over to bury your face into the pillow, and groan.

This is bad. This is really bad.

And from the timing of it, it was only going to get worse.

It wasn’t as if you and Obi-Wan hadn’t had sex before -- you had, plenty of times in plenty of places you maybe shouldn’t have, but this was different. This was... This was the sort of thing you’d both heard horror stories about. Hours and hours of feverish impulse, little to no control... Wonderful if you’re trying to conceive a child on the eve of Khairyn Sar, like the market saleswoman probably thought when she sold Obi the plant.

You sigh, a small smile worming it’s way on your face despite the circumstances.

You just want to skip to the part where you can both laugh about this.

You try and keep yourself present -- but it’s getting harder with the sensitivity to every slight breath coming from the body beside you. Your mind wanders as you try to count yourself to sleep; your mind has better ideas, readily delving into fantasies that feel like half-truths, and the ache between your legs worsens.

You’re mid-dream of Obi lapping between at your core when he moves, brushes your arm, and you jump awake.

“Sorry.”

You can only manage to grit out a muffled moan.

The Jedi rolls, ignoring the evident hardness that’s now painful in his trousers, and eyes you carefully -- you’ve stripped, the only thing on your body are the thin, red satin bottoms on your lower half. Sweat is glimmering along your back, and Obi-Wan feels a twang of guilt build in his chest.

He rolls, props himself up, and touches your spine. It was supposed to be a calming gesture, one rooted in apology, but...

It’s a mistake.

Your body reacts immediately, a gasp wringing itself from your throat as your fingers tighten in the sheets -- you grit your teeth, raise your head and nearly plead:

“Please,” a whisper before it all rushes out, “That... feels good.”

You can’t find the words to explain that his touch is like pour ice water over a burn. It feels wonderful. You squirm against the mattress as Obi tries to catch his breath. His lungs stutter and he ghosts his fingers along your spine once more -- this time, it sends a pang of arousal straight to his gut.

“I... I think,” his voice is hoarse and his throat is tight, “I think --”

You just chew your lip and nod, nose brushing the pillow as you remain face down. You feel it too.

It’s all he can manage. His brain is a foggy mess of fantasy and arousal. You’re the focal point of it all; the force around you is louder now, mingling between him and his sensitivities. His fingertips brush the dip of your spine and you inhale sharply, nerves alight at the contact. He can feel the sensation along his own spine -- it’s like a punch square in the gut.

Then, on the hazy impulse of some rose colored pollen, Obi bends, slowly, and kisses the blade of your shoulder.

You whimper, gasping slightly when his hand spreads flat across the back of your ribs and sweeps along your skin, bringing with it a electric sensation that throbs your sex with painful, empty want.

“Obi...”

“This is...,” he breathes, lips ghosting your shoulder, “Not good.”

“It hurts.”

He couldn’t agree more. His brain feels like it’s on fire. When he closes his eyes he only sees you, spread out beneath him and saying his name over and over and over -- fucking hell. His voice is low. “What do we do?”

You pull yourself up in bed, hair wild and eyes set in dark circles. You look dazed and far-away, but your attention is rooted on him.

You reach out and touch his chest, busying your touch with the thatch of reddish hair there. Your fingertips buzz and your body cools immediately -- Obi-Wan leans into the touch, his hand finding yours as he exhales a shaky breath.

“Ride it out?”

Obi’s eyes are as large as dinner plates at the recommendation -- the usual green over-taken by his dilated pupils; his touches are hungry. He nods, Adam’s apple bobbing furiously as you shift closer.

“Ride it out.”

It’s a downward spiral from there.

You both surge forward, meeting for a kiss that’s like being plunged into an icy lake -- it soothes a bit of the fever, waves of relief coming in the form of wandering hands and messy love-bites. You roll yourself on-top of him, pushing your arms up beside his head and gasping when the Jedi grabs your jaw and pulls you right back down for a kiss that steals the very air from your lungs.

... This is different.

You whimper, collapsing to his chest -- and Obi shudders at the brush of your clothed hips against his own. He feels like he’s drowning in you, happily, and his whole body is alight from your touch. His brain is six steps behind his body and the room spins around him as he pushes himself up and you follow suit, sitting up in his lap.

Instantly, calloused hands snake around your waist and you have to bite your lip so tight you draw blood to keep yourself quiet when Obi-Wan’s mouth latches onto to the curve of your breast and bites a tender little mark there. Your hands shake, tightening into the tufts of hair at the base of his neck as he makes an appreciative sound at the reaction and blinks up at you from underneath thick lashes.

Gods above this is heaven.

Everything feels so... hot. Tight and needy and wet and just the mere pass of his hands along your waist has your squirming in his lap as his tongue draws up and around the swell of your right breast. In a flash, he’s taken the perk nipple there into his mouth and your body quakes.

In response, you fist his hair. Tight.

And he moans. Right against your skin, gasp worming itself from his throat as you get the message and tug again -- this time exposing his throat and allowing yourself to dive below his stubble and little sloppy little kiss there to his delight.

His whole world is swimming with pleasure and he can feel his own arousal throbbing eagerly in his trousers as your nails run along his scalp and drift to his beard, giving the hair there a gentle tug.

His heart stutters, mouth dropping open as you laugh greedily into his neck.

“You like that?”

A breathless nod; he’s stuck on the way you speak -- half-way in the room and half-way in his mind. Obi-Wan feels like his whole heart is going to give out; he can’t focus, to stuck on your body and the way the force is running directly between you both like a pool of water. Each touch casts a ripple and...

Fucking hell.

He flips you both, pressing you into the mattress with enough force to rush the air out of your lungs and make the bed creak; you can’t help but muffle a surprised laugh, shoving your hand over your mouth lazily as Obi-Wan noses your jaw and litters exploring kisses down your neck and shoulder.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he breathes into your skin, stubble raising goosebumps along the hot burn of your fever. You shiver, fingers greedily looping into his hair as he bites a daring little mark into your décolletage, “You’re so beautiful --”

He sounds like he’s underwater. Your hearing is going in and out, eyes half-open to watch the sight of him drifting lower and lower and lower and...

Obi’s fingers brush the band of your bottoms and you gasp loud enough that his eyes shoot open and he moves to slap a hand over your mouth.

The motion is rough enough to spur you on, lending you to arch your back and laugh headily into the skin of his palm. You feel intoxicated -- like you’re tipping over the edge of a blissful high and every touch is enough to make your legs shake.

“I’ll be quiet,” you murmur, plucking at his fingers and watching his eyes grow darker -- you sit up, gripping his palm, before darting your tongue out to draw around his index finger. Instantly, the Jedi turns to putty, and he drops his head as he curses. You laugh, taking his whole finger in your mouth, before he pulls away and sweeps his hands under your bottom.

“Up.”

It’s not a request. It’s a demand.

Your lower abdomen burns with arousal as you do so, lifting your hips and allowing Obi-Wan to snag the band of your underwear and drag them down your hips. You can feel the wetness brush your thigh as he tosses them over his shoulder. Your legs shake a bit, hands winding into the sheets as Obi-Wan hangs himself off the bed and presses your legs apart with warm hands.

There’s no precursor, no build-up.

Not that you need any.

He just lays his tongue flat to your soaking clit and groans, like it’s the first meal he’s had in days. The vibration is heavenly. Your whole body goes hot-white at the sensation, need to feel full peaking in that moment; your arms collapse and you fall back to the sheets gasping as the Jedi between your legs traces the swollen, pink folds of your sex with his tongue. It feels like you’re not even in your body -- like you’re floating somewhere above the moon and swimming with the stars.

You taste like honey. Sweet. So damn sweet. And he can’t get enough of it.

The sensation of his mouth on your center isn’t the only thing winding the spring in your gut higher and higher. It’s... hands. Everywhere. Touching you where his hands aren’t -- across your waist and pinning your thighs down to the mattress as you squirm, in your hair and running across your breasts as you quiver. It’s like you’re the center of three people’s attention, and you realize with a wanton moan that it’s the damn force.

“Obi...”

He raises his heavy-lidded eyes only for a moment, arms wound around your legs as he holds the apart. A lock of his hair has fallen into his face and you can feel his stubble grace the inside of your thigh as he smiles.

“Sonofabitch,” it rushes out when a non-visible hand ghosts your jaw, trailing down your throat eagerly, “Is that -- is... Obi --”

“It’s me,” he mumbles, pulling away for a moment -- you can see your wetness along his chin as he sways a bit, his grip tightening on the flesh of your thighs, “I’m here.”

And all over.

You move to dig your fingers into his hair, only to watch one of his hands gesture slowly through the air and -- suddenly, both of your hands are above your head and you’re arching against the mattress.

“I’m busy.”

It’s all Obi offers in explanation for the action, jaw falling open as his tongue presses deep past your entrance; once, twice, and again. He rightly fucks you with his tongue, and you suddenly snap.

Your whole body quakes with an orgasm that sends your eyes rolling into the back of your skull. He coaxes you through it, tongue sweeping up your clit as you shake and moan and cry his name over and over.

“What a good girl.”

The reaction is wonderful -- but, it begins an even further downward spiral for you into the land of need.

Suddenly, the fever flares in the glow of the come-down. It’s worse. Hot and terrible and the ache between your legs isn’t stopping.

You mumble, bleary and quiet, trying to keep your voice level. “I n-need more.”

He does as he’s told, watching as your chest heaves and you continue to squirm despite the light hold on your wrists. In his mind, he traces the curve of your waist and you jump -- it makes him chuckle. It gives him enough time to let go of your thigh and slip his middle finger over your clit, down your folds, and past your entrance.

Gods, he loves you.

His name spills over your lips so sweetly, Obi has to catch his own breath.

It’s when he crooks a second finger deeply into you that he gets a real reaction -- this one stirring the haze in his mind and making his thoughts spin. You writhe and gasp and buck your hips down onto your hand, all while begging for more.

And who is he to deny you that?

Suddenly, the pressure for your wrists is gone.

You sit right up, hair a mess and lips pulled into a terrifying snarl -- you grab the back of his head as he shifts up the bed, slamming your lips onto his and clawing at his back; the Jedi can’t help the desperate whine that worms out of him.

Somewhere, far in the back of his mind, he hears himself promise to get Aayla an apology card.

“Lay down.”

Your voice is low, and Obi’s brows raise slowly -- he looks fucked out of his mind, but it’s just the pheromones and the force making it hard to think. He obeys the demand wordlessly, rubbing at his face as his head lolls back against the pillows --

Then, your hand ghosts along the imprint in his trousers and he sees stars.

If this is what you’d been feeling... Gods, he’s two beats from coming himself. It doesn’t get any easier -- maintaining some semblance of pacing and composure -- when you tug the hem of his trousers down and away.

Obi bites his knuckles so hard it draws blood.

Everything feels so... overwhelming.

It’s only elevated when your hands brush the warm flesh of his cock, eyes hooded with lust weighted lashes. Your bottom lip only brushes the underside of the head and Obi-Wan has to grab something to ground himself.

His arm bows above his head, securing itself to the pillow. You watch his bicep flex with a greedy gaze.

“You’re so beautiful,” you breathe, tongue darting out to slip flat along the very base of his shaft, “I love you -- so much.”

He can’t speak. Not at all. His mouth moves, but nothing comes out -- only a desperate sound of approval muffled against his knuckles when you take the tip of his cock into your mouth and giggle. The sound has his hips twitching at the vibration. You notice, and happily slip your mouth farther along his manhood.

Obi-Wan just swallows, inhales sharply, and muffles a needy moan behind both of his palms.

Your nails run down his sides, causing the muscles there to jump -- years of training has given him more of a physique than he lets on, and you find yourself watching him hungrily as you bob up and down his member. It’s sinful and in no way pretty, but Obi’s two beats from death’s doorstep when you pull away and swipe at your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Gods --”

You crawl up his side, kissing him hotly as he leans to meet you halfway.

“I -- I need to feel you,” your whisper, voice shattering, “Please.”

He sits up, moving quickly to drag your towards the edge of the bed -- you follow, watching as his cock brushes his stomach when he sits up; it’s all you can think about. Right now, the hollow ache between your legs is driving you mad.

Obi watches as you throw your leg over his hip; he can see the glistening of wetness running down your thighs there -- and the fact the room smells like flowers hits him suddenly. The pollen, he realizes. Which is better than it smelling like sex, which in a few hours, it most definitely will.

You hover above him, backlit by the moon and the sight of Coruscant’s night, and kiss him like it’s all you need in this world. Everything is mingling together, painting an overwhelming collection of synapses just trying to rid the pollen from your system. Every touch, every kiss, every breath... all of it is enough to have you needing more.

“Go ahead,” he breathes, watching as you nose his cheek and sigh, melting into his arm, “I’ve got you --”

You sink down on him and...

That’s it.

There’s no better feeling in the world.

Nothing like riding it out.

It’s all him and it’s wonderful and loving and thick and fits the need just perfectly. His fingers dig little half-moons into the skin of your sides as he gasps, mouth falling open as yours does above him. You don’t need time to adjust; you instantly pull yourself upwards and pack down the slick heat of his cock again. The fever washes away with every thrust, your need escalating to sheer bliss by the time Obi-Wan has finally begun to get his bears.

His grapples with you, words stringing together praise and adoration through messy kisses and delighted moans.

“Just like that,” he whispers, snapping his hips up into yours as you scramble to hold onto him, “Gods, you’re so perfect --”

You tighten a hold into his hair and pull, spurring his words to fall off into pleasure and for the sound to be smothered by a bruising kiss. He’s tipping into the territory of carnal, now, hands scaling your back to lift you up and guide you back down with enough force to make you see stars.

“S-shit --” you hiss, throwing your arms around his neck, “Again.”

So he does. Again and again and again and you’re shaking. Your legs are burning, pace stuttering into a disjoined slow -- and it prompts Obi-Wan to take the lead. You nearly shriek when he lifts you off his member fully and tosses you to the bed, forgetting their previous position in favor of one where he can fuck you right into the mattress.

Calloused fingers slip between your legs as you grin, legs spread wide and back to the sheets.

Above you, the Jedi’s smiling. “Let me do the work.”

A shaky nod; he climbs over you, bracing himself up on his elbow beside your head. His cock slips into you easily -- the sound you both make is akin to bliss. Again, the fever begins to receded. Now, his hands are in your hair and your legs are hiked around his hips. You can feel your muscles shaking with each filling of your core.

“I love you,” it’s muttered against your lips, bodies jostling with each impact of pleasure, “I love you so much --”

Your arms are tight around his neck when he bends, lifts your hips, and drives home.

It’s world-ending -- before you can even vocalize it, you’re screaming his name and coming so hard you swear you hear something in your chest snap. You shake, tightening harshly around his cock and working his own sudden orgasm out of him in a blink; suddenly, the whole bed moves an inch with a sudden push and the room rocks on impact.

BOOM.

He’s grasping at you, catching you as you writhe against the sheets and send him spilling a mess everywhere. Inside you, across your thighs, along your stomach. He can’t help but muffle the mantra of your name into the skin of your shoulder as he heaves and shakes and tries to grab your hips for stability with one hand.

There’s a moment, then two.

Then, Obi-Wan collapses next to you on the sheets.

His eyes are wide, chest rising up and down quickly as he swallows and turns to look at you beside him. You’re no better, arms spread out and jaw slack -- there’s a smile on your face, one that blooms into a laugh when you raise your head and stare down at the mess between your legs.

You drop your head back and Obi-Wan exhales slowly.

His voice shakes.

“... I feel better.”

“Yeah,” you muster with a tired laugh, “Me too.”

✶ --- ✶ --- ✶

The next morning is... interesting.

His room is a mess. You both wake to find nothing is where it was before. All the trinkets adorning his shelves have flown across the room and even the bed as moved an entire foot from its usual location.

There’s a crack in the wall where the headboard meets the dura-plaster.

You both wake up feeling like you’ve been hit by a land-speeder, full throttle.

Obi-Wan sits straight up and you nearly scream when you see the state of his neck and back. He’s covered in dark purple bites, and running down his back are welts from your scratches. You’re in no better shape -- you face plant into the carpet upon first attempts to stand.

You both stand in the refresher, slack jawed and just as dazed as you’d been when you’d finally won-out the pollen last night, sometimes around two in the morning.

You just know that the girls are going to have a lot to say about this.

Obi-Wan spares you a single mortified look -- and you both burst into laughter.

Gut-wrenching, tear bringing laughter that sends you both out of the refresher and bracing against the objects in his room. He’s smothering a terrible snort when you try to speak.

“I can’t... I can’t believe --”

“Merry Khairyn Sar?”

You shriek, swatting at the Jedi’s arm as he descends into another bought of laughter. You can’t worm the smile off your face. At this point, you don’t want to.

“I need breakfast,” you point, gathering up your gown and robe from the day previous, “Before I can handle the trademarked Kenobi snark.”

“Dex’s?”

“I’d love to see you try and explain those hickey’s on your jugular to him,” you prod at his neck, earning you a delighted kiss on your way to change in the bathroom, “So yes.”

“Oh, trust me,” he waggles his finger, “I’ve got everyone fooled, you know --”

Obi-Wan eats his words when, after cleaning up, dressing, and straightening his quarters, you both step into the hallway only to come face to face with certain an exhausted looking Twi’lek.

Aayla Secura most definitely heard everything.

The apologetic look she offers is enough of a give-away as you cover your mouth and Obi-Wan guides you away before you can even utter an apology.

“Morning, Master Secura!”

Once you’re in the elevator, the laughter begins anew.

Obi-Wan will find a way to make it up to Aayla.

After all, it was a holiday.

Maybe not on Coruscant, but to the Naboo senators and delegates on Coruscant, it was.

#obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan smut #obi-wan kenobi lemon #obi-wan imagine #star wars imagine #nothing like. a little porn.#nightfall & daybreak

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themusicplayedherlife · 4 years

Text

to love is the greatest gift

2. the dinner

pairing: obi wan kenobi x f!reader (past!din djarin x reader | past!obi wan kenobi x satine kryze) characters: f!reader, anakin amidala-skywalker, padmé amidala-skywalker, mentiones of din djarin, obi wan kenobi, others word count: 3.6k+ warnings: angst, fluff, death, longing, some arguing, slow burn summary: au! It has never been the right timing for you and Obi Wan, but maybe this time will be different. a/n: thank you so much for all the love in the previous chapter! i was so overwhelmed that i was a little nervous posting this part ;w; i really hope you guys enjoy this story! and do let me know what you think of the current formatting. is the switch from past to present jarring? or is it okay?

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Then.

The heat that Summer brought to Coruscant was different than Tatooine’s, less harsh and dry, and more of a kiss of warmth on your skin. Mother did say that Tatooine was always more temperamental, quick to heat up; while Coruscant could be a little tepid sometimes, but always a lot of fun.

That was probably the only nice thing about Coruscant. Everything else about the city—like their streets—were too confusing.

Following the directions on your phone, you pulled the straps of your backpack tighter with your unoccupied hand, eyebrows furrowed as you tried to read the map on your phone. Was this truly the place you were meant to meet your guide?

You looked up at the quaint house in front of you, quite a ways away from downtown and more in the suburbs. It looked like a cottage, like the ones in home magazines your mother liked collecting or the ones in Naboo or Stewjon. Could a high schooler, even one able to attend a prestigious private school, be able to afford such a home?

Did the headmistress confuse the address? Seemed possible. The woman seemed to be much more interested in the absolutes of rules and manners than actually helping you find your guide. Maybe you should have accepted your mother’s offer to accompany you. Or maybe convinced your parents to let you come with Anakin, you were sure Shmi wouldn't have minded.

You stood on your tiptoes, trying to take a peak over the white fence covered in a fuchsia flower—bougainvillea, if you remembered correctly. When that didn’t work, you stuffed your phone into your pocket and with hands holding onto your backpack straps to not jostle your belongings around too much, you began to jump.

There was a sound, like the sound of metal clinking and wood screeching, and the gate opened to a boy? man? (too young to own a house and maybe a few years older than you). He stepped out, blue eyes stopping on your curious form and greeting you with an amused, “Hello, there.”

You knew he had seen you jumping, there was no way he wouldn’t be looking at you the way he was if he hadn’t—embarrassing.

“Hello,” you greeted him back, timid and quickly setting your feet flat on the ground.

“May I help you?” he asked you, his Coruscanti accent thicker than the ones that greeted you at the terminal, much more charming too. It reminds you of all the actors you’ve seen on screen, speaking clearly and with nuance—never faltering. “You seem to be quite lost.”

“Oh, yes, I’m looking for someone,” you found yourself saying, tone turning formal and stiff. He removed his flat cap to push wisps of auburn hair away from his eyes, nodding for you to continue when you paused. “Padmé Amidala, is her name. She’s supposed to be my guide?”

At the mention of Padmé, the kind stranger sighed, hands falling to his hip. “Ah, now I understand why she came over. Did father know?” he murmured under his breath, looking back at the house with a raised brow. “Give me a moment and I’ll fetch her for you.”

You nodded quietly, watching him turn back inside, but not even two steps in, he stopped and turned back around, flashing you an almost sheepish, but albeit charming smile.

“Pardon, that was a bit rude of me. Would you like to come in and wait for her in the garden?”

You mulled it over—following a stranger into their home was always something you had been advised against since you were a child. It would be completely unwise, wouldn’t it? But he seemed too kind, eyes too innocent and earnest to hurt you. And so, against your usual better judgement, you nodded. “If it’s no trouble?”

“None at all,” he assured you, opening the gate wider, “please come in. I’m Obi Wan, an old friend of Padme’s.”

You gave him your name and he smiled at you, wide and completely beautiful. “A pleasure to meet you.”

Now.

You were only a girl back when you first met, immature and blossoming and he was a young man, all roses and maturity—too much like his father (and yet nothing like him)—it was never going to be the right time for you.

Even now, standing before you—him with his tidy, combed auburn hair, white, stupid shirt that is freshly pressed, and brown slacks and dress shoes that are anything but casual—you feel like that girl all over again.

“It has been a long time, Obi Wan.” Obi Wan. Obi. Obi. It’s been so long since you’ve said his name aloud that it feels so foreign on your tongue now. “I—I didn’t know you were visiting.”

His eyebrows furrow, deep, cerulean pools gliding away to the white door only a few steps away. His nostrils flare with a breath and turns his gaze back to you, opening his mouth to say something—he doesn’t get the chance.

“There you are! You said—oh,” It’s Padmé. Beautiful, sweet Padmé looking as lost and confused to see Obi Wan just at the entrance of her driveway, with you. “Obi Wan?”

“Hello, old friend.” His head is slanted towards her now, a soft smile on his face. “It has been some time.”

Friend. There’s always been that distinction between you and her in his words and actions. She was and is friend or little sister, and you were and have not always been darling—that always something, but never just nothing.

“Yes, it has,” she says, unable to change her expression, and you don’t blame her. You still can’t believe it either.

Did Anakin know?

“Honey, where is—“

Of course Anakin knows, how could he not know? Look at his stupid face peeking over Padmé’s shoulder like the kriffing embecile he is! Those wide blue eyes don’t fool you, not one bit!

Dinner is quiet for the most part.

The twins are unsure of the newcomer, even though Padmé and Anakin keep reassuring them that he’s a friend, their godfather (something they are aware of thanks to the pictures of the six of you sitting on the mantle of their fireplace). The twins were only a year old when he returned the first time and around three years old when he left the second time. They have no attachment to the man sitting at the head of the table.

They absolutely refuse to sit next to him—Obi Wan smiles, but there’s a flash of pain in his eyes at hearing their quiet reluctance and rejection to get to know him—and so, you and Anakin take the seat closest to him and across from one another. Leia by his side and Luke by yours. Padmé takes the other head, smiling placidly, but her brown eyes waver when they meet yours every time.

Utensils scrape against ceramic, Obi Wan occasionally asking questions—how have you been? how’s work? how’s school? did Mr. Ford finally move? Quinlan still touring? Mr. Windu still teaching at the school?

It’s Anakin that mostly answers for all of you, trying to keep dinner as lively as it usually is, but with the kids eating silently by your side and not falling for their dad’s bait, it falls flat.

This dinner was supposed to be full of discussion—who will be joining us? will I need to buy more bread? did the know Qui Gon? does it matter? coffee for how many people, again? But you can’t bring any of them up in fear of how Obi Wan would react, and quite honestly, you think it might be because you don’t know how to react to his presence, yet.

Your heart squeezes in your chest every time you glance at him and find him looking back at you, a longing to reach out and take him into your arms edging ever so slightly forward every time. But there’s also a part of you that wants to keep him at a distance, to not give him the ability to hurt you when he inevitably leaves again. And that latter part of you is probably the reason why you blurt a question you should’ve kept to yourself.

“Why are you back?” Anakin trails off, his voice lowering when yours suddenly cuts through his. Obi Wan’s eyes widen and his mouth hangs open slightly and you realize your question comes off more accusatory than you meant it to sound. “I—I mean, it’s just so sudden and—“

“I know,” Obi Wan interrupts, soft; understanding. “I wasn’t sure I should come back,” he admits, remorse floating around his words (whether for having felt that way or because he knows it’ll hurt you, you don’t know) and you quickly face forward, meeting Anakin’s hurt eyes that most likely mirror yours, “but the firm has offered me a promotion and Anakin managed to convince me to test it out.”

You release a shuddering sigh, you had a feeling he knew.

Now it’s Anakin’s turn to quickly look away from you (you can’t help but wonder if he saw the hint of betrayal beginning to bubble in the pit of your stomach), only to be trapped by his lovely wife’s. Once more, he breaks contact and stares down at the plate in front of him instead.

“I’m sorry,” Obi Wan starts after a brief tense silence, “if I had known you weren’t aware I wouldn’t have—“

“We’re glad you’re back, Obi Wan,” Padmé interjects, a soft, lovely smile on her face—always so good with people, “for however long you wish to stay.” Although you know she means it, there’s still some hesitation in her words as her gaze flickers between you and him.

“Yes,” you find yourself saying, somehow managing to keep your voice leveled through it, “we’re glad you’re back.” And just like Padme, you know you mean it too, even if there’s a hint of hesitation in the way your eyes won’t meet Obi Wan’s gaze as you say it, focusing instead on the bridge of his nose.

You think he knows it too with the way his hands resting on the table roll inward, an uncomfortable veil beginning to fester as he keeps quiet, eyes drooping and the corner of his lips pulling down.

“Auntie,” Leia whispers, breaking the tension, from across the table and you hum, turning to face her with a wavering smile, “may I please have your piece of roast if you’re not going to eat it? It’s getting cold.”

You blink, and you’re sure everyone else is just as surprised as you are by her words—it’s such a little Leia thing to say, but at this moment? None of you were expecting it, and so, when you erupt into laughter, the room does too, the shock wearing off.

Leia looks around at the adults and she and Luke share a look before shrugging. She murmurs about roasts and perfectly good meat, and you shake your head as your laughter begins to die down.

“You can have it, honey.”

“Sweet!” Her eyes brighten and she grins, immediately digging into the piece of roast you’ve set on her plate.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Anakin whispers into the quiet space between you; the two of you staring out into the living room from the kitchen, leaning back onto the island.

It doesn’t surprise you that Obi Wan somehow manages to get the twins to warm up to him—Leia on his right and Luke on his left, the scrapbook you gifted them last year filled with Polaroid pictures of constellations opened on Obi Wan’s lap. He’s always been particularly good with kids, a trait he must’ve inherited from Gui Gon, who had an immense patience for teaching little ones how to play the piano and guitar.

Padmé sits with them too, keeping their attention away from you and Anakin and the inevitable arguing that might occur.

“This is Cetus!” you hear Luke point out.

“It’s our favorite ‘cause it’s a sea monster!” Leia informs him giddily, leaning forward to trace the stars to form the shape. “And this is And—Andromeda! It’s our Auntie’s favorite.”

“Is that right? It happens to be my favorite too.” Obi Wan glances over his shoulder, his eyes meeting yours for a split second—and you refuse to unravel the mess of emotions swirling in your stomach from that simple glance—before returning his attention back to the eager children, voice lilting. “Which one is this one?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You cup your cheek, the other holding your elbow to keep it perched—but it does matter. It very much matters that Anakin knew and kept it from you, blindsiding you completely. If you had known—if you had known you wouldn’t have come. You could’ve mentally prepared yourself for his reappearance in your lives. But instead you got punched in the gut. “He’s here now.”

“I wanted to tell you,” he rushes to admit. “But I—when he told me he would visit—try out that new job, I didn’t think he actually would.” Anakin crosses his arms over his chest, eyes downcast and focused on his crossed ankles. “He’s done this before, you know?”

Your head snaps in his direction—this is the first you’ve ever heard about it.

“Once after your 21st birthday and another after Din and you broke up.” Anakin lets out a frustrated sigh and the hand that had been cupping your cheeks curls into a tight fist. “I wanted to surprise you, so I didn’t tell you. But he always called the night before to say he couldn’t make it. Some surprise, huh?”

“Anakin…”

“I thought—I don’t know what I thought, to be honest.” He laughed self-deprecatingly and you squeeze his forearm. “I just hoped he would. I’m sorry”

“I’ll get over it, Ani,” you promise him, soft, the hurt and betrayal you felt dissipating like wisps of smoke. “I understand why you didn’t tell me.” He tries to smile at you, but fails. “I’m glad he’s back, really, I meant it when I said it… but—“

“It hurts,” he finishes for you, sympathy and understanding laced in those two words.

“Always.”

“Do you know which one is this one Uncl’Obi?” Leia asks.

“Mama, knows it,” Luke follows.

“Does she? Care to give me a hint?”

“That'd be cheating.” Padmé laughs.

“No cheaters here,” Leia agrees, nodding her head with each word.

“Oh, fine. Let’s see…” Obi Wan chuckles, his hand coming up to his chin to rub the growing stubble, exaggerating his thinking. “Is it… a Bantha?” The kids giggle and shake their heads. “No? Hm. Then… is it… ah! I know—Pegasus?”

“Yes!”

You fight back a smile, pressing your lips together as the twins begin to tell him the story of Pegasus, not telling it correctly, but Obi Wan is enraptured by their animated story telling nonetheless.

“We have to tell him,” Anakin whispers, breaking the silence, and while he doesn’t reference who has to know and what they have to know, you know exactly what he’s insinuating and you don’t agree.

“No.”

He exasperates your name, hands falling to his side as he fully turns to you. “He deserves—“

“I said no, Anakin,” you spit, breath coming out harshly. His blue eyes widen and they flash with hurt. You close your eyes, steadying your breath and calming your racing heart—cursing yourself. “He doesn’t need to know,” you repeat, softer this time. “He’s not going to stay long enough for it and even if he were, he’ll want nothing to do with it.”

“You do know best.” Anakin’s eyes have always been much more expressive than yours or Padmé’s or even Obi Wan’s—always giving away how he truly feels even though his mouth and the words that come out of it say otherwise.

“That’s—Anakin. That’s not fair. Remember last time we tried telling him when—“

“Satine had just passed away,” Anakin iterates, eyes softening when your eyes begin to well up—you swallow harshly. “It was still so fresh in his mind that he couldn’t think of honoring—“ He sighs, stopping himself from saying Qui Gon’s name. “Maybe now will be different.”

His eyes, as soft as they are, challenge you, refusing to crumble under your glare, they’re asking you to give in, to please, tell him. You shouldn’t give in, for your sake and Obi Wan’s, but the longer he looks at you with those eyes of his, you let out a reluctant sigh. “Okay.” You move away from the kitchen’s island and head towards the archway leading to the living room. “But you tell him. I have to get going.”

“I can do that.” You look back at him and find him smiling at you, thankful and relieved. You return it, albeit weakly, but he appreciates the effort. “We’ll talk about preparations another day, okay?”

You’ll probably have to talk about more than preparations later, but you don’t tell him that; instead, you nod and exit the kitchen.

Padmé, noticing your return, turns to you and studies you carefully. “Everything okay?”

Obi Wan also turns to look at you—the children’s current story falling on deaf ears—but you keep your gaze on Padmé.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you assure her, “but I have to head out.”

The twins hear that and immediately a chorus of “aww” and “why, Auntie?”, “can’t you stay?”, “sleepover!” begin to take over—their words wrestling over one another to be heard and you laugh, crouching down and opening your arms wide for them to run into. They do without hesitation, practically climbing over Obi Wan and Padmé to do so.

“I’m sorry, my little stars, I have to get up early for work tomorrow.” Pulling away from their little arms, you hold your pinkies out for them. “Next time I come over, we’ll have a movie night. Deal?”

“Deal!” They readily agree, hooking their pinkies with yours.

“And you’ll bring Uncle Din and Baby?” Luke whispers, low enough for only you and Leia to hear.

“Promise,” you whisper back.

Shaking their pinkies one last time, you stand up and begin your goodbyes, hugging Padmé tightly.

“Call me when you get home safely, okay?” she says, warmth in her words.

“I will.” You linger in her arms longer than necessary, your heart beating in your chest harshly and rapidly, hesitant and afraid of saying goodbye to Obi Wan. But you finally pull away, you can’t be rude and leave him hanging.

“May I… walk you to your car?” Obi Wan asks you, blue eyes wavering ever so slight my when you meet his gaze head on.

A part of you wants to say no, but an even bigger part of you—the part that completely and utterly missed him—convinces you to agree. “I’d appreciate it.”

Anakin’s eyebrows furrow as he hands you your jacket and purse, and you smile at him, telling him it’s all right. It’s really not, you’d rather be able to breath for a moment and then think about Obi Wan later, but it’s too late now.

Obi Wan says something to the family of four as you slip on your jacket—“I’ll be back,” you assume. He grabs his own jacket from the coat rack and zips himself up, following after you as you walk out into the evening’s cold air.

“Did you park very far?” he asks you and you shake your head, walking down the stone path Anakin and Padmé installed earlier this year.

“Just down there.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

It’s a quiet walk, not an uncomfortable one, but you can’t say it’s comfortable either—it just is? Like many things just are. Will it always be like this now?

You hope not, because this quietness is not you and Obi Wan.

“This is it.” You step to the side of the driver, pressing the unlock button once and open the door. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my dear.” Obi Wan moves to close the door for you, but you don’t move to sit and he just stands there in front of you, holding your door. “I wish you a Goodnight and—and I’m glad I got to see you.”

Goodbye, Obi Wan. The words catch in your throat, your mouth parted, waiting for the words to escape, but you can’t bring yourself to say goodbye—what if this is the last time I see you, again?

“Darling?”

Your eyes find his even in the low lighting of the street—blue eyes shining brighter than the celestial sea. There are permanent lines around his eyes now—little crow feet that weren’t there last time he stood in front of you—and you reach for them with shaky hands and he closes his eyes when your thumb runs over them—gentle and tender, caressing.

He delicately hold your wrists, his thumbs running over your pulse, soothing and all too caring—thump. thUMP. THUmp. steady. familiar. alive.

It’s too much. It’s too much that you can’t help the welling of tears or the way your throat croaks when you call his name.

Blue eyes re-emerge, red rimmed and devastating and it takes you only a second—a second of bright stars and flashing satellites, and airplanes landing—for you to collide against each other—faces hiding in hair and shoulder—wet words murmured over each other and tangling in vines so deep like the flowers that once grew on a beautiful white fence—hands wrapped tightly around each other.

“I’m so sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.” “I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you so much.” “Please don’t let go.” “I will never let you go. Never again.”

You stare up at the house, well kept and pristine. The roses, however, are dying, their season soon to be over. But even in their last moments, they cling to their own beauty just for a little while longer.

“Resilient little things,” Qui Gon used to say. “Just like the heart. We tend to forget it’s a delicate thing, prone to hurting and breaking—even wilting, but much stronger than we give it credit.”

With the lingering warmth of Obi Wan’s arms and words encasing you, you turn back around and get in your car, driving away from the place that has been your home for the last few years.

Hopefully, Din will take you in for the night.

#obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x y/n #Obi-wan Kenobi x reader #Obi-wan x reader #obi wan kenobi imagine #reader insert

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obiwanobi · 4 years

Note

Do you have any AU recs where Obi-Wan and Anakin met later? Like Anakin is the hot shot celebrity pod-racer or the bloody mouthed revolutionary or a moisture farmer?

I generally prefer when Obi-Wan and Anakin have known each other for some time before having a ‘oh, it’s him’ moment, so I unfortunately don’t have a lot of fics to rec (but wow you really made me want an AU with half-feral revolutionary Anakin who will not take any shit from outsiders who didn’t get involved in the slave business until it affected them, meeting prim and proper Jedi Obi-Wan sent to find a peaceful solution to the troubles in the outer rim) but I found these ones:

AUs where Obi-Wan and Anakin met later:

→ Gold Collar, by JSwander, 22k. It was on my to-read list for months and I finally had times to read it recently, and wow, I wasn’t disappointed. General of the Empire Kenobi finds a pretty mechanic on Tatooine during a diplomatic mission and promptly decides that he likes him and wants to keep him. Anakin has zero objection. I really liked how I couldn’t completely grasp Obi-Wan’s character for a couple of chapters and Anakin was like, my baby from the start, so I felt like a weird overbearing mama reading this fic, constantly worrying for him like ‘Anakin, darling please be careful why are you giving your absolute trust to this stranger so easily?’ so I got invested really fast. I was also pretty interested in the plot, particularly the little bits of what happened in this universe to get Obi-Wan where he is now (and how clueless Anakin is to all of it because it didn’t really affect him), so really worth reading!

→ Nor the Suns Themselves Brighter, by glimmerglanger, 26k. Post-Order 66, Obi-Wan is on the run with baby Luke and crashes on Tatooine where mechanic Anakin is here to rescue him. I haven’t read this one in some time, but I remember reaaaally liking the pacing, watching the development of Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship (Anakin taking care of Obi-Wan! Ahsoka constantly saying “hey master we should- oh kriff sorry please carry on making heart eyes at each other I’m leaving forever bye”! Being such dads with Luke!) and having as a bonus baby Luke, Shmi, Ahsoka and Rex. I adored the ending too, it leaves you dreaming about the possibilities of the adventures of this found-family in the Rebellion-era.

→ CT-Skywalker, by Selcier, 37k, wip, but only missing an epilogue. Listen, LISTEN, IT’S A MULAN AU, DO I NEED TO SAY MORE? Anakin enrols in the GAR and impersonates a clone. Doesn’t plan on starting a love affair with his Jedi General, but, oh, well.

→ Sun kissed, by Vee017, 96k, wip but only missing an epilogue. Obi-Wan isn’t a Jedi in this one but joined the AgriCorps, and finds a pleasure slave one day he can’t stop himself from buying. This is a lovely story about two lonely men who find comfort in each other, help each other grow, learn to let go of old griefs and choose each other. Also I loved the aesthetic of the lone but cosy house on a hill, surrender by grass and the ocean, and these two snuggled together on the couch inside with a warm cup of tea and Obi-wan complaining about Anakin’s droid that keeps eating his socks because ✨ domestic fluff ✨

→ Shaak Herding for the Troubled and Lonely, by protos_metazu_ison, 41k, wip. Hermit Obi-Wan Kenobi who has no interest but also no choice but to join society again for one night, meets most powerful Force-user in the galaxy Anakin Skywalker, founder of his clan, husband of Senator Amidala and father of two promising children. Also, uncontrollable force in desperate need for help. Unfortunately for him, Obi-Wan is his best chance to finally restrain his power and not blow up his own house and family with it. I absolutely adore the worldbuilding in this one, this alternate version of the star wars universe is so interesting that the relationship between Obi-Wan and Anakin isn’t even my main preoccupation when I read it. I also really enjoy the way Obi-Wan is seen by people, how he doesn’t contradict people basically calling him a slut when his main goal is to just go back to his hut and be left alone. But I’m also a bit conflicted because Anakin is married to Padmé in this one and loves her, and with Ahsoka and the twins, form a real family. Obi-Wan is trying not to get in the way, but I don’t know how this obvious attraction from the beginning between him and Anakin and their bond will play out with the conflict it creates in the dynamic of the family. I’m not into cheating fic and I don’t know how polyamory or an open relationship can work with the tension between all the characters in this fic, so I’ll advice to be cautious if like me you can’t deal with Obi-Wan getting in the middle of anidala.

#okay but also #I'm still thinking about the revolutionary Anakin and Jedi Obi-Wan AU hmmmm #much to think about #fic recs #obikin #asks #anon

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please-buckme · 4 years

Text

You Belong with Me. - Anakin Skywalker x reader

Unisex.

⚠️Warnings: the reader says goddamn.

3113 words

This day started the same as any other day. You woke from your small room that was very high up in the Jedi Temple. You got out of bed and got ready for the monotonous day a head of you. You took a quick shower, got out and dried off. The only thing you took extra time on was your Padawan braid. You wore it with pride no matter how bad you hated it and couldn't wait to become a master to chop it off. Throwing your robes on quickly, you headed for the door. You only had an hour before your meeting with your master and the council. You wouldn't dare be late but you had gotten back from a mission very late the night before and hadn't eaten in days, so you headed to the dining hall to grab something quick like a meiloorun and some juice.

You had hoped to run into some friends along the way since you hadn't been home in a while. Your two best friends were Anakin and Makenna. Both extraordinary Jedi and your most favorite people in the world. But to no avail that's not who you ran into.

"(Y/N)! Oh I am so glad to see you've made it back safely!" Padmé says running up and embracing you in a rather tight hug. "When did you get in?"

"We got back last night. I would've told you but it was very late." You say breaking the hug and awkwardly crossing your arm to hold the other. You had known Padmé for a long time. You once had to escort her back to her home planet on Naboo for a mission, so you had gotten to know much about her. But it seemed no matter how polite and gentle she was a part of you was always a little intimidated by her. After all she was one of the most beautiful women in the galaxy and to top it off, a senator. You couldn't help but stare at the floor when talking to her, almost as if her beauty was blinding.

"Ani will be so glad to hear you're back." She said rubbing the arm you were holding. You suddenly sensed the feeling of worry coming from Padmé. You look up into her sorrrow felled eyes.

"What is it?" You ask. She makes a you-already-know face towards you and you bring your hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose. "The dreams again?"

"Unfortunately. But you know he won't tell me about them." She now puts her head down shaking it side to side. "It's just- I don't know why he can't talk to me, I'm his-" she smiled down at the floor shaking her head, "Apart from that I'm glad he has you! You are his best friend!" You cringe at her last sentence. You loved being Anakin's best friend but an even bigger part of you wants so much more. You've never felt in competition with Padmé because there's no contest. He would pick her every time and you couldn't blame him. She wore the most extravagant dresses credit could buy and you were in your tolerable, baggy Jedi attire.

"Okay well just tell him to come find me later." Your mind was being overcome with ill-mannered comments about how she didn't deserve him but you kept quiet. "Shall I escort you to the dining hall?" You hold your arm out to walk Padmé down the long corridor to the dining hall.

"Oh this is perfect! I was just heading that way to speak with Ani. You may join us." Padmé says as if you had no choice, but you didn't like being around them when they were together. You were consumed with jealousy when he, or she, made advances towards one another. Anakin would always look at her so lovingly as he caressed Padmé face, she'd blush and reveal her bewitching smile. Neither of them knew your feeling a towards Anakin. You pushed your feelings deep deep down but you were afraid if you got too jealous you wouldn't be able to stop Anakin from sensing your emotions.

"Thank you for the offer, Padmé. But I'm going to be in a bit of a rush seeing as though I have a meeting with the council in just a few minutes, so I'm just gonna sit by myself to not distract myself." What you said didn't make sense in your head and it didn't sound any better coming out. You didn't know what else to tell her though. Hey Padmé I can't sit with you because I'm madly in love with your boyfriend. Absolutely not.

"Oh, okay! That's fine. I'll just have him find you later." You could sense something was off about Padmé again but this time you weren't sure what.

Once you got into the dining hall your eyes overtly go to Anakin sitting by himself. Your breath hitched in your throat at the mere sight of him. You started to feel your cheeks warm up as you blush. You then clear your throat and tell Padmé goodbye before she makes her way to Anakin. You grabbed your breakfast and sat just behind them at another table. You didn't want to sit with them but you wanted to hear their conversation.

Padmé was upset with him, that much you knew. She kept saying things like; you always do this, how dare you and even sometimes I question our alliance.

She was talking about their marriage. She doesn't know you know about their marriage but you did. When Anakin told you he was so happy. You faked it for hours then finally excused yourself to your room and almost drown in your own tears. He talked about wanting to marry her but that's not the Jedi way so you thought nothing of it. You didn't talk to either of them for weeks. Your master knew of your feelings for Anakin, so she helped you out by telling them you were on a mission when in reality you were so emotionally weak you could barely move a muscle.

"Hey you're back!" You heard your friend Makenna from over your shoulder. You shushed her still trying to ease drop on Anakin and Padmé. "Oh shit what'd I miss?" She asked trying to get the dirt on their relationship. Makenna also knew about their marriage because you told her. You had to tell her. You weren't eating, you weren't sleeping and her being your best friend you couldn't keep it from her any longer.

"They're fighting." You say in a hushed tone.

"Oh yeah. They've been fighting for weeks now. Ever since you left actually." Makenna said.

"Do you know why?" You ask out of curiosity.

"Just Anakin being Anakin. I heard that he has been disagreeing with the council again and," she got closer to your ear to whisper a little softer, "he's been disappearing randomly. Like he's supposed to be on a mission right now with Obi-Wan, but no one could find him. He's in a lot of trouble right now and Padmé has been livid. They're constantly at each other's throats." Makenna took a sip of your juice after telling you the recent gossip. Your stomach twisted at the emotions you could feel coming from Anakin. He was stressed, anxious, tired and furious all at the same time. The tension made you feel sick. You turned your focus back to Makenna to distract yourself from getting sick.

"Doesn't help that he's having the dreams again." You say making her eyes grow huge.

"Again?! What of this time?" She asked.

"I don't know yet. Padmé just filled me in on it. She says he won't talk to her about them, as usual. If he can't even open up to her then why is he with her? Can't he see that I'm the one who understands him?" You say putting your head down now starring at the table. You start to think back to the nights when Anakin would cry himself to sleep in your bed. How you'd comb through is hair with your fingers and watch him sleep. He never slept peacefully but there were those few seconds in between his conscious and unconscious state. Where his head was filled with nothing but the peace of silence, before the dreaming and after the breakdown. Those were the little moments you lived for with Anakin. I wondered if Padmé had every really looked at him the way you do. You doubted it though. Seeing as their relationship is so hidden it's almost like they keep it a secret from each other as well. They always asked for you to join them in whatever they were doing because they didn't like being alone together. And Anakin isn't the only one who keeps secrets in that toxic relationship. He tells you all the time about the secrets she keeps in her head. He, sometimes, even reads her mind because the deceitfulness becomes too much to bare. At this point you're starring at them. They're still fighting but they're covering it up with fake smiles.

"Hey?" Makenna says nudging your arm, "He's a boy. Chosen one or not. And boys are stupid. They see one pretty girl and think they're in love. You and I clearly know that he should be with you but he's not because he's a stupid boy. So, get over him, move on. Stop letting him hold you back from living your life, (Y/N)." Makenna started rubbing your back soothingly and you nodded towards her. She was right. Anakin never showed interest in you and only came to you for his problems. No more.

"You know what? You're right." You say standing up now. "I- I have been living in Padmé's shadow trying to compete and for what? He has never looked at me twice. I'm done. You say angrily in a hushed tone trying not to draw attention. "Thank you, my friend. I have to go now. I have a stupid council meeting." You rub her shoulder in gratitude and head out of the dining hall. When you open the doors to the corridor it almost felt as though you were walking into your new life. A life of no Anakin. It definitely scarred you but it also felt like something you should've done a long time ago.

—————— Night Time

After the council meeting you had a very good day. Your master gave you the day to do as you pleased sense you had been on your last mission for so long. So you just did stuff to kill time and to avoid Padmé and Anakin. Neither of them ever really went to the training arena so that's where you spent most of the day. You trained along side a fellow Padawan, Kham. Kham was a couple inches taller than you but not quite as tall as Anakin. He had darker hair and blue eyes that went with his beautiful dark complexion. It had been rumored for a while that he had a crush on you but you never got that vibe from him. To you you guys were nothing more than just friends.

After training and hanging out for a while he asked if he could walk you back to your apartment. You said yes not wanting to be rude and to also not walk alone. You guys were telling corny jokes and making each other laugh until you got to your front door. There sat Anakin against the wall awaiting your arrival. When he looked up to see you walking with Kham you saw his face contort into a rage. Was he jealous? No he couldn't be. What was there to be jealous of? You were you and nothing more than a best friend to him.

"Anakin." You say greeting him with a nod. For once you weren't happy to see him. At this point you wouldn't mind if you never saw him again. Just the sight of him enraged you.

"(Y/N)." he said back to you in an angered tone, "Kham." He greeted Kham as well. "I've been waiting here for well over an hour." He spat at you as if to make you feel bad. Kham felt the tension between the two of you.

"Okay, I'm gonna go. Anakin," he nodded. "Good to see you and (Y/N) I'll see you tomorrow." He says giving you a sweet smile. You smile back in response and he leaves you with Anakin. Great.

"Why didn't you tell me you were home. I had to find out from Padmé." He says jumping right into an argument.

"Sorry dad we got back late." You say.

"What's tomorrow?" Anakin asked. In reference to what Kham had said to you.

"A word to describe the upcoming day." You say sarcastically knowing exactly how he'd respond. You didn't care though. You simply walked past him and into your apartment.

"You know exactly what I mean. What is wrong with you?" He asks annoyed with your new attitude towards him.

"Are you really here to find out what's wrong with me or for me to be your emotional support blanket? Come here Ani let me soak up every ounce of frustration and anger you feel so you can feel better about yourself." You're tone had gotten louder. You didn't care if the entire temple could hear you. You were just glad that you were finally sticking up for yourself.

"Oh, so now my emotions annoy you?" He says way too dramatically for your taste.

"No Anakin that's not what I'm saying. I'm annoyed that that's all we talk about now. Ever sense Padmé came into the picture all I get from you is your emotional, sad, depressed state and the second you feel better you run right back to her. I'm exhausted Ani. I'm exhausted. I can't do this anymore." You say turning your back to him to not show him the tears you're holding back.

"Well, if that's how you feel then fine. I'll go." You could hear him head to the door but you wanted him to hear everything you had to say because you didn't know if you'd have the guts to say it again.

"You know- I used to think you hung the goddamn moon and all the stars, Ani. I so obviously loved you and you couldn't careless. For years I have been by your side through all your ups and downs and I got nothing in return. You never greet me when I come home from missions but oh- I didn't show up one time when you came home and you didn't talk to me for a week. So you go Anakin because I'm done. I can't take it anymore of this emotional abuse. I- I can't." You could feel the pooling tears in your eyes start to full. The tears you wept were not for him but for you. They symbolized everything you held back from him all these years. You were overwhelmed but relieved to finally be done with the charade and excited to be your own person again, if you ever were to begin with.

Anakin was frozen in his tracks still looking at the door. You cried silently not wanting him to stay and comfort you. You also knew he needed time to process everything you just told him. You'd never talked to Anakin that way and you wish you didn't have to. You wondered if he would indeed just leave. You wondered if he'd say absolutely nothing and walk out the door. But he didn't. All Anakin did was turn swiftly on his feet. Now starring at you he puts one foot in front of the other as if he was going to walk over to you. He stops as if he were still numb by your words.

"You think after all this time I didn't know you loved me? If you didn't love me why would you stay up with me all those nights just to talk? I've always known." He pauses for a moment. You just stare at him in confusion. Were your feelings a game to him? You wondered unto he spoke again. "Even after all this time and all those late nights you never once realized how crazy an- and insanely in love I am with you?" You gasped at his words throwing your hand over your mouth. "I never show up when you come home because I get too nerves to see you and when you come home hurt I- I lose my mind. When you didn't show up that one time I thought you needed space. When I saw you with Kham I almost lost it." Everything he said was music to your ears except the last part. He's jealous of a guy you're not even dating?

"Your jealous of Kham? That's funny, um, how about your wife? How do you think that makes me feel? I have to see you guys together constantly. If you love me so much then why do you torture me? Why did you marry her?" You wipe a tear away aggressively trying to appear stronger than you feel.

"Because I don't have to worry about her as much. Before her you're all I thought about day and night, which I still do. I thought being with her would help me get over you. Every time you go on a mission I'm scarred it'll be your last. I can't think straight or concentrate on anything when you're gone. You're my rock." He walked towards you now at a steady pace. Your tempted to take a step back but you don't. You just stare at Anakin until he fills in the empty space between you.

"I love you, (Y/N). I have always loved you."

You say nothing in response. You just do the one thing you'd been dying to do since you met. You kissed him. You kissed him in a way that cannot be described with words. Butterflies ran all through your body. Your head now feeling dizzy from all the passion and emotion that seeped from your mouth into his. He did not hesitate to kiss you back in this long awaited kiss either. You felt him smile on your lips which made you giggle. You nuzzled you're head into his chest and he enveloped his arms around your lower back. You were over come with joy now knowing that your best friend, Anakin Skywalker, the chosen one, was in love with you. You picked your head up to stare into his beautiful blue orbs.

"I love you, Ani." He just smirked down at you and kissed you ones again.

xMasterlist.x

#anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars #fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars anakin #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker reader insert #fanfiction

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