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obislittleone · 1 year ago

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Come What May

Episode 4/?

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

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

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

NINE YEARS LATER…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It happened this way, only sometimes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, he was Obi.

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

You were late again.

Not to work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am dead.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t be, it’s my fault… it’s just-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You won’t believe what happened today.”

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friskynotebook · 2 years ago

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All the Wasted Time Ch. 4

An Obidala GFFA AU slow-burn romance ❤️

CW: age gap, poisoning, angst, food, assassination attempt

Summary: Obi-Wan and Padme attend a state dinner where things take a dark turn.

Also on AO3!

Padme drummed her fingers on her desk, staring at the comm set like it would turn into a swarm of fever wasps. It’s just a comm call. To Obi-Wan. What are you so afraid of?

It wasn’t so much what she was afraid of, as it was the way she constantly found herself thinking about the gala from a few weeks ago and the way Obi-Wan looked in his dress robes gliding her across the dance floor, charming her odious colleagues, rescuing her and Mon from a bounty hunter—

Padme shook her head. Enough of that. Just make the damned call.

Before she could think anymore about it, she picked up the receiver and dialed Obi-Wan’s number, not dwelling on how she knew it by heart.

He answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

Padme tried to ignore the tingle in her belly from hearing his crisp Coruscanti accent. “Hi, Obi-Wan.”

“Ah, Padme, hello there.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

“How are you?” she asked, toying with the comm cord.

“I’m alright, and you?”

“I’m good.” She swallowed. “I actually called to ask you a favor.”

“Yes?” he prompted when Padme didn’t continue.

“Um, are you busy next week? There’s a state dinner the Republic is hosting for delegates from Rishi and Bail and I are trying to get votes for our taxation bill and I was wondering if you’d be free to attend—”

Obi-Wan gently cut off her rambling. “Oh, I’m sorry, Padme, I won’t be able to accompany you.”

Padme’s heart sank. “Oh, that’s all right, don’t worry about it—”

“—Because I’ll already be attending as part of the Jedi delegation,” Obi-Wan continued, a teasing smirk lacing through his tone.

“Oh!” Padme squeaked. She cleared her throat. “Well. That’s good. So I’ll see you, then? At the dinner.”

“Yes you will, Senator.”

Padme exited her hovercar, fingers absently smoothing down the light blue tulle of her dress that she definitely did not pick out so it would go with Obi-Wan’s dark blue dress robes.

“Thank you,” she said absently to the driver. “I should be done in about three hours.”

“Very good, Senator.”

She adjusted her curls and strode towards the entrance to the ballroom, before she could fiddle with her outfit any more.

“Padme!”

Breha’s voice rang out across the entrance hall. Padme turned, beaming at her friend.

“You look lovely,” Padme complimented, greeting Breha with a hug.

“As do you.” Breha kissed her cheek. “I love the dress.”

“The color is a nice choice,” Bail winked at her. “It would look good with a certain Jedi Master’s dress robes . . .”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Padme blushed as she greeted Bail.

“Let’s go inside,” Breha suggested, giving Padme a knowing smile.

Padme quickly found her table, surprised to see that:

She was seated at the same table as the Jedi delegation, and

Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was sitting right next to her.

She suspected Mon was involved with the first decision, but would she have been so bold as to put her right next to Obi-Wan? However, one glance at Mace Windu, sitting across from her with a twinkle in his eye and a playful raised brow, and she had an idea who switched the placecards.

“Padme.” Obi-Wan’s warm, velvet voice came from behind her. She turned around and greeted him with a hug.

“Obi-Wan,” she beamed. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you,” he grinned, kissing her on both cheeks. “It seems we’ve been seated together.” He released her hands and pulled out her chair.

She settled in her seat, her cheeks warm at his gentlemanly attention. “Yes, how fortunate for us.”

“I’d say it was the will of the Force, but it’s probably more accurate to say it’s the will of Mace Windu,” Obi-Wan teased, sitting next to her.

“You could say Mace was simply listening to the will of the Force.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure that’s exactly what he would say,” he replied, looking up to find Mace quickly looking away, pretending to talk to Yoda.

“Not very subtle, is he?” Padme smirked.

“Oh, on the contrary he’s normally quite discrete. But it appears all that skill goes away when it involves my personal life.”

“I thought this was merely a work function for you, Master Kenobi.”

“My friends view these events as the height of my social life,” he sighed. “So they take every opportunity for me to make the most of them, if you will.”

“Your friends sound like my handmaidens,” Padme said. “Meddling with good intentions.”

He smiled at her as he accepted the menu from a server. “That’s one way of putting it.”

They poured over the options for each course, the menu specializing in Rishian cuisine.

Padme wrinkled her nose. “What are . . . glowblue noodles?”

His eyes lit up. “Oh those are delicious. Don’t let the name—or the color—fool you. They’re served in this cheesy cream sauce and topped with sesame.”

“I’ll take your word for it and stick with the buckwheat noodles with nerf.”

He shook his head and sipped his wine. “You’re missing out, Senator.”

Despite Padme’s initial hesitation, the meal was one of the best she’d ever had—especially the bites she stole from Obi-Wan’s plate.

And her food envy only grew when the pasta course was served.

“That’s what glowblue noodles look like?” Padme asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan grinned. “I told you to not let the name deter you.”

“What was I supposed to think? The name said blue noodles!”

“And I said they were more delicious than the name suggested.”

Padme looked at her own buckwheat noodles with nerf—it looked good, but the glowblue noodles looked downright heavenly.

Before Obi-Wan could take a bite from his meal, he regarded her, tilting his head to the side. “Padme, would you like to switch?”

She hurried to decline the offer, though the way her face lit up didn’t lie. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly take your meal!”

“It’s no trouble, really. Besides, it would be an honor to be present for your first time trying glowblue noodles.”

“Well when you put it like that . . .” Padme offered up her plate in exchange for Obi-Wan’s meal.

He watched her with a glint in his eye as she took her first bite. “Obi-Wan, this is amazing!”

“I would say I told you so, but . . .” he teased.

“You just did,” she furrowed her brow playfully as she took another bite.

Obi-Wan snickered, taking a bite of the buckwheat noodles. “These are quite tasty.”

“But no glowblue noodles?”

“No, definitely not.”

Padme enjoyed every last bite of the cheesy, buttery noodles—probably more than she should have, if the borderline food coma she was experiencing was any indication. Still, she wasn’t about to give up her white-chocolate bread pudding, and focused all her energy on eating the filling dessert.

“Padme?” Obi-Wan said, his brow furrowing. “Is everything alright?”

“Hmm?” She looked up, licking a bit of chocolate from the corner of her mouth.

“You haven’t said much since we got our desserts,” he continued.

“Oh, I’m fine. Just . . . enjoying the dessert,” she nodded, but regretted that once her vision started spinning.

Obi-Wan continued watching her eat, his own dessert abandoned. Once Padme finished her bread pudding, she stood, gripping the table like a lifeline.

“I think I need a bit of air,” she said, gathering the energy to walk. How did this get so hard? Did I really eat that much?

Obi-Wan quickly stood as well. “Allow me to escort you,” he said, offering her his arm.

She took it and let him lead her towards the balcony—which would be much easier if her body could just remember how to breathe. She tried to breathe in and out, but her lungs and chest burned and simply wouldn’t cooperate no matter how hard she tried.

She tried taking another breath while also trying to work her legs and that seemed to be too much. She gripped Obi-Wan’s arm—so strong, his arms are so strong and his robes are so soft—as tightly as she could, trying to fight against her body drowning on air.

“Padme?”

She vaguely heard his panicked voice, felt his calloused hand on hers.

“Obi—” she gasped, her legs collapsing under her.

Padme heard him call out her name, much more panicked than before, then felt his arms around her, trying to break her fall. Things were graying out at the edge of her vision, but she could hear chaos around her, from Mon’s “Padme!” to Mace’s “Help’s coming, Senator, try to hang on.”

She wanted to tell Mace she was hanging on but it was so hard. The gray had turned to black and she felt like she was drifting farther away from the ballroom, the people, Obi-Wan’s warm arms.

“She’s not breathing.” Padme heard the fear in Obi-Wan’s voice and she wanted to tell him she would be just fine but she couldn’t work her mouth or the rest of her body, for that matter. So she settled for just thinking at him as loud as she could. That’s how the Force worked, right?

But before she could think much more, Obi-Wan was pinching her nose shut and covering her mouth with his own, and the last thing she thought before her world went black was how soft Obi-Wan’s lips felt against hers.

No-pressure tags: @wickedscribbles @obiknights @labyrinth-runner @your-dose-of-obidala @mxster-jocale @cypanache @celestial-alignment @alabama-metal-man @written-musings

#obidala #obi wan kenobi x padawan!reader #obi wan kenobi #padme amidala #obi wan x padme #my fic #my writing #star wars fic #all the wasted time

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blxkstar · 5 months ago

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I made a playlist for using the Light Side of the Force.

Using inspiration of the feeling of tapping into the light side, and feeling the Force flow through you. Please check it out!!

"The Force. What does it feel like?" "Have you ever been afraid of the dark? How does it feel when you turn on the light?” “I feel safe,” “Yes, it feels like that.”

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floffytofu · 1 year ago

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

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

Reader : sit with us so we can tell you

Obi-Wan, sitting down : well?

Anakin : this bench is freshly painted

Obi-Wan : ...

Ahsoka : yeah, they did it to me too

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #clone wars #padawan reader #child reader #platonic #obi wan x padawan reader platonic #star wars incorrect quotes #clone wars incorrect quotes #anakin skywalker #ahsoka

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thegreatwicked · 10 months ago

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Padawan

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, it's Obi-Wan."

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

"What day is it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What have I done to you?"

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

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

His?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's not what it was."

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

“Then what? What, padawan?”

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

"Please, don't call me that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What am I to do with you, padawan?”

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

"What're you doing?"

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

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

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

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

"Yes, Master."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And neither could you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"This."

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

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

“Master, your padawan wants your cock.”

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

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

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

“Up, further on the bed.”

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

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

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

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

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

Was this what he’d meant about punishment?

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

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

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

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

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

“Padawan,”

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

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

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

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

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

‘Master’s mouth is between my legs.’

‘Stars! He’s licking me.’

‘He’s going to make me come!’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes! Please, Master! Please!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps you shouldn't have pushed your luck.

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

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

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

"Touching your master without permission?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Darling, please, touch your master,"

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!”

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

“Padawan! Padwan! Padawan!”

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

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

“Oh! Maker!”

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

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

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

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

"Good girl, now, up you get."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Obi-Wan…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What leg?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why, yes, there's more...

~~~

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

Alright! I need a cigarette!

#fanfiction is life #i have too many stories #star wars #obiwan kenobi smut #general kenobi #obiwan x reader #obi wan x reader #reader insert #x reader #obi-wan x you #sweet smut #master x padawan #master kink #Dom obi-wan #master kenobi #clone wars #needy obi-wan #wounded reader #all the smut

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chloe-skywalker · 6 months ago

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But Why? - Obi-Wan Kenobi

Obi Wan x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 165

Summary: Y/n questions a certain Jedi rule.

Masterlist

STARWARS Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Why?” Y/n questioned out of the blue after training one day.

Obi-Wan turned to look at the young Jedi in training that he had taken on. “Why what?”

“Why can’t we love?” She looked to him with curious eyes.

“The code says-” Obi-Wan went to explain but Y/n cut him off.

“I know what it says. But why?”

Obi-Wan sat down next to Y/n and thought of the best way in his ability to explain it. “It’s a weakness, you could lose focus of your tasks.”

Y/n smiled at him before telling him her point of view. “It can also be a great motivator. Could give you the will to finish your tasks.”

It was a different view on love than the Jedi follow but it made Obi-Wan think. Y/n got up and left the training room. She wanted to let him think over her words on his own. Since she was pretty sure she just confused the older Jedi.

Taglist: @gruffle1 @padawancat97

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x padawan reader #obi wan kenobi x padawan reader #x reader #imagine #imagines #y/n #starwars #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #obi wan imagine #obi wan imagines #obi wan kenobi imagine #obi wan kenobi imagines

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im-a-wonderling · 11 months ago

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Rescue Me Masterlist ~ Obi-Wan Kenobi

Summary: Originally the padawan of a Jedi master turned Sith lord, Y/N fumbles her way through the Jedi life as Obi-Wan’s padawan. To her surprise, life as a Jedi holds different lessons and challenges than she originally expected.

Part 1 - 7.5k words

Part 2 - 7.7k words

Part 3 - 8.1k words

Part 4 - 9.8k words

Part 5 - 5.9k words

Part 6 - coming soon

Check out my main masterlist for more fanfic!

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan #obi wan fanfic #obi wan fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #sw #sw fanfic #sw fanfiction #padawan!reader #obi wan x reader #obi wan x padawan #obi wan x you #obi wan x y/n #rescue me #slow burn

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moonlit-imagines · 10 months ago

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warnings:

a/n:

not requested

“Well, Cody, Master Yoda has finally assigned me a new padawan. I almost thought he’d forgotten.” Obi-Wan joked as you stood beside him with a kind smile. “And he did not disappoint.”

“Sure didn’t, General.” Cody replied, removing his helmet. “I’m Commander Cody, good meeting you.”

“Y/N L/N.” You introduced yourself. “I look forward to working with you.”

“You gonna have my back out there, kid?” Cody tilted his head up slightly and smirked.

“You know it.” You looked up at him and smiled, noticing his fist reaching out. You put your own out and bumped over and under, then looked over to your new master.

“I think you’ll be a great addition to our battalion. That is—if you can follow orders. My last padawan was not much of a listener.” Obi-Wan told the two of you, who both laughed.

“So I’ve heard.”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @gabile18 // @sweetjedi // @retvenkos // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @dontyousassmeok // @dindjarinsspouse // @zoeyserpentluck // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @sheridans-dynamos // @lady-violet // @simsrecs // @xoxobabydolls // @ruvaakke // @simp-legend // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @your-local-simp0 // @elenavampire21 // @pheonixfire777 //

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi imagine #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #commander cody #commander cody imagine #padawan!reader

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anakinskywalker97 · 10 months ago

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What you are capable of

Anakin X Platonic Padawan Reader

Summary: The reader is given a mission from Palpatine to negotiate air space access. It's a big trap to get her killed off to pull Anakin closer to the dark side.

Warnings: non-graphic mentions of rape and assault - not to the reader. Anakin freaking out, murder, happy ending, big dad vibes, hurt comfort

Being Anakin’s Padawan had meant that your Jedi journey had not been the usual sort. When Yoda had summoned you to the chancellor's office you weren't surprised. You got dressed and moved quickly not wanting to keep everyone waiting. What did surprise you was the absence of your master and Obi-Wan. Normally the three of you went everywhere together. You felt it was like being a family, in the darker parts of Anakin's mind you sensed he felt it was a kind of exile or alienation.

You felt uncomfortable being in the presence of so many powerful people without Anakin. Normally he would help you navigate these types of situations. You bowed and waited for them to speak first.

“Ah, lovely to see you dear!” The chancellor looked at you with a big smile on his face. Obi-wan and Anakin trusted him but he always made you feel strange. “We have a special task for you.”

“We need you to negotiate an air space passage with someone in the outer rim,” Windu spoke clearly but you could feel he didn't approve of this plan.

“Oh, I’m sure that won’t be an issue for us.”

“We all feel it would be best to send you in with a team of troopers. He has a bit of a history with Anakin.” You tried hard not to let your emotions bleed through. “Your language skills are a necessity for this mission, really there is no better person to send.”

You thought about it for a moment. Everything inside you was screaming not to do this, especially without Anakin’s approval.

“Help you must,” Yoda said nodding.

“Alright, thank you for the opportunity. I’ll go let Anakin know -”

“I’m afraid there isn't time, I will speak with your master as soon as he returns from his tasks.” Palpatine gave you a reassuring look and a soft smile. You nodded and Windu escorted you to the ship. As far as you knew Anakin was asleep in his quarters, you reached out your mind and tried to wake him up.

______________________________________________________________

Anakin was asleep. A rare occurrence these days. He could feel himself lying in the grass, wildflowers around him. The sun was shining on his face and the air was warm. Qui-gon and Obi-wan were laughing and he was very at peace. Anakin sat up when he felt you pressing into his mind. You were channeling all of your fear to him, pushing into his mind with as much force as you could.

He shot out of bed and tried to reach out to you. He could tell you weren't in your room, but that you had moved a far distance in a short span of time.

You were too far away.

Where the fuck did you go?

He threw his robes on quickly and ran out into the hall, Obi-Wan moved around the corner and greeted him with a concerned face.

“What’s wrong?” He asked grabbing Anakin’s shoulder

“Where the fuck is my Padawan?” He asked angrily.

He and Obi-Wan approached the council. Anakin knew he needed to control himself, but he could tell he was at his breaking point. They had no right to give you orders or send you anywhere without him, or his approval. You were tied to him, every move you made or any move the world made against you was his sole responsibility. Obi-Wan had his usual deep sense of calm surrounding him, Anakin wanted to shout at him for it.

“The chancellor insisted Anakin, you have to understand the importance of this trade route -” One of the Jedi masters tried to explain, but he could sense Windu’s discomfort and focused his attention on him.

“She’s with a whole crew of troopers. The chancellor was very clear he wanted her to be the one who made contact.” Windu finally broke.

“Who is she meeting with?” Obi-Wan asked in a casual voice.

“Orar Baize,” Windu answered and Obi-Wan clamped his hand on Anakin’s shoulder tightly. Anakin was tempted to hit him but felt slightly subdued by his master's energy. Making a scene here only meant it would be harder to go after you.

“When is she to return,” Obi-Wan asked seemingly unbothered by this information.

“If everything goes to plan, three days.” Windu said firmly.

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan directed Anakin to the door and they moved down the hallway quickly. Once in the elevator, Anakin was ready to explode.

“Don’t” Anakin pushed his master's hand away as Obi-Wan tried to help him. Rage and betrayal pulsed through him if he started to side with the council Anakin would kill him.

We need to get to a ship. Just keep it together till then.

His master's words felt like a cool cloth being pressed to his forehead. He could feel his walls slip a little and realized he was just as angry as Anakin.

We need to be practical if we are to reach her in time

For once Anakin wasn't annoyed with his master's reminder to be practical. He took a deep breath and felt his emotions focus.

They climbed into a two-seater and managed to slip away without too much attention being drawn to themselves. It wasn’t unusual for Anakin to take a fighter out for a ride.

He got the coordinates locked in and let the ship do its thing.

“We should have dealt with him after what he did to Master Kenau.” Anakin's voice was venomous and he felt Obi-Wan sigh.

“I agree. What he did and his reputation for collecting Jedi is unforgivable.” Obi-Wan nodded. Master Kenau, was badly assaulted years ago, Anakin found out and insisted they press the council to do something about him, but she refused. She wasn’t herself after that and Anakin felt her pain to this day.

“She’s just a kid. They sent a child into the hands of a rapist with a special appetite for Jedi.” Anakin had only reached this level of anger when he had the sand people incident. He tried to remember there was a lesson in all of that, how painful it was to tell Obi-Wan. Thinking of something happening to you erased all feelings of remorse or logic.

“The council has become more and more influenced by the politics of The Republic,” Obi-Wan said taking Anakin off guard. “It is not our place to be involved with these kinds of things.”

“What do we do about it?” Anakin asked genuinely curious about his master's stance.

“I get the feeling it will all fall into place after we get her back.” He said calmly.

“I didn’t think you would help,” Anakin said in a quiet voice, unsure if he wanted to discuss these issues now.

“Please, Anakin. The girl is like a granddaughter to me.” Obi-Wan chided.

That would make me your son, Anakin thought to himself. He held those words with him while they tried to catch up with you.

____________________________

You were starting to realize that this was a trap. Your stomach was right. You should have kicked and screamed and stalled till Anakin or Obi-Wan could get to you.

But here you were, alone. Clones were murdered in the landing bay, and you were in Orar’s office after taking out a bunch of droids. You had never met a species of his kind. He was large with mint green skin.

“What’s your name?” He asked with the smile of a predator. His teeth were long and pointed. You decided not to answer.

“Well, tiny Jedi. The Chancellor has held up his end of the bargain.” His eyes were dark and you stood there with good posture like Anakin had taught you. “Your life was traded for something of little value.” He was trying to get a rise out of you. But that’s what men like that fed on, he wanted you to argue your value. He wanted to watch you dance and react, wanted to feel your youth and belittle you.

“Come on little Jedi, Say something.”

“Something.” You said easily and his jaw clenched.

“Don’t make this difficult, it could be a nice time if you let it be.” You started to feel what he wanted and you fought harder than ever to keep your emotions closed off and contained.

“I think I should be leaving now.” You said diplomatically, you would try to walk out of here the Jedi way first.

“That’s not going to happen.” His body radiated a sick pleasure and you let it feed the anger in your chest the way Anakin showed you too.

__________________________________________

The sound of dueling rang through the landing bay as they moved through the bodies of clones and droids. Anakin moved quicker than he could ever remember moving in his life. They moved onto the top platform and watched you duel with Orar.

Anakin could tell you had been at it for a long while by this point. He watched as you defended yourself. He moved forward and Obi-Wan put a hand on his arm. Anger shot through him.

I had to watch you fight your first battle too

Obi-Wan’s voice ran through his mind, his hand still firm on Anakin's arm. He watched your ruthless form and could see the man faltering. He had taught you every form from the archives he could find. He wanted you to be the best Jedi he wanted you to be able to overcome all evil and triumph.

Did you teach her illegal forms?

Obi-Wan hissed. He watched you execute it perfectly, slicing through the man’s body twice before his body hit the ground. Blood sprayed and he watched you sink to your knees chest heaving.

Anakin rushed up to you picking you up as if his embrace could somehow stop the feelings that would eat into you. Your body shook hard and he took on all of your weight, picking you up properly. The three of you moved in silence back to the landing bay. He found a utility sink and put you down in front of him. He helped keep you up right and he washed your hands. Then he got the blood off your face and neck. Something he wished someone had done for him after the sand-people.

He carried you back towards the ship. Obi-Wan held his arms out towards Anakin, he could feel his master’s reluctance to hold the girl. He only shook his head and got into the passenger side.

He took his robe off and wrapped you in it. Your eyes were still closed tightly as your mind and body fought against each other for control.

______________

Obi-Wan watched as Anakin held you tightly. Your face pressed against his chest and his arms around you. He reflected on all of the times he wanted to hold Anakin just as tightly but didn't. He could feel the struggle inside you to overcome the situation, to make peace with what you had been forced to do. Anakin was angrier than he had ever seen him before, but he also watched his Padawan try to control it more than ever before. Obi-Wan got them locked in on the path home, he put his hand on Anakin’s shoulder, glad that he accepted Obi-Wan’s help.

You need to clear your mind. It will be easier for her to process the feelings with your help.

He could feel Anakin’s usual annoyance at his advice. But then he could feel Anakin center himself and then slowly start to take on your emotions. Eventually, you stopped shaking, he could tell the two of you were talking.

He could also feel the dangerous bonds of attachment weaving around them. Something he realized he could only see because of his own attachment to Anakin.

He sighed. He felt they were so far off the path they should be on.

Tears fell down Anakin's cheeks as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. They had been soldiers in this war for too long.

He knew Anakin wouldn't let this slide. He would be out for blood the second they reached Coruscant. Obi-Wan could hardly blame him, as the overwhelming anger was boiling in his own blood. Sacrificing a 15-year-old to such evils was unforgivable.

__________________

Obi-Wan was with you for most of the day. He spared with you and you wondered if he would talk about the forbidden forms you had used. You wanted to talk to him about it but you were worried he would be angry with Anakin. You hated it when they fought.

You were reluctant to sleep in your own bed. It's not that you regretted your actions you just felt overwhelmed by the feeling of killing someone. You knew the day would find you but the weight was relentless on your mind. You tried to revisit that ride home, sitting in his embrace. His love was an easy feeling to find in the bond between you now. You tried to hold it and breathe deeply when the memories would resurface.

Anakin had told you how to act over the next few days. You could feel his mind keeping tabs on you constantly. He told you to act normal and to tell him when they called upon you. You weren't allowed to leave the temple under any circumstances, keeping to your room and the training room.

“Master Obi-Wan.” You asked turning off your lightsaber, he did the same.

“Yes.” You could tell he knew what you wanted to talk about.

“I wanted to let you know that I tried to leave like a Jedi.” You took a deep breath. “I asked to leave, I tried to fight defensively. He- I -”

“I think you tried to fix the situation, and eventually realized the threat he posed was too large. You knew what he wanted to do to you and others. You did what you had to do. If I didn’t think it was right, I would have stepped in and handled it for you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Anakin and I needed you to see for yourself what you are capable of. I do wish that it could have been in a lesser conflict.” His eyes were empathetic and you wanted to hug him.

“You don’t think it makes me a sith?” You whispered.

“No” He laughed. “I don’t think the Sith could take you, even if they tried their hardest. Your heart is pure, more pure than most.”

“Anakin said that’s why I need to learn everything to be prepared.”

“He feels that you won’t lose yourself or be tempted by the power.” Obi-Wan made a face. “He worries about where the war is headed, above all Anakin wants you to survive.”

You nodded thinking about your master's faith in you.

The call came sooner than you thought. Obi-Wan was in a meeting with Anakin and you were reading in your room.

Master - you reached out

What - Anakin responded right away

The chancellor has summoned me

Don’t leave your room - his voice was grave and you sat on your bed waiting for Anakin.

He was there in moments, just long enough for the anxiety to take hold in your stomach. He told you to walk in there and listen and be polite, panic overtook you when you realized he wouldn't be following you in.

Master - you reached out hesitantly with your mind and your fingers curled into the arm of his robe.

Just relay what he says to me

You nodded and walked out of the elevator and down the long hall to his office.

“Ah!’ Palpatine's eyes looked you over. “Thank you for coming to meet with me on such short notice!” His smile was wide and you wanted to hit him.

“I understand that there was a complication with the mission, I just wanted to see how you were feeling about everything.” he tried to look understanding and you wondered what Obi-Wan had told the council.

“Fine.” You gave a little shrug.

“I understand that our contact had attacked you. I just wanted to apologize for what happened dear.” You watched him closely but didn't accept his apology wanting him to continue. “I did hear that your exceptional skills with a lightsaber saved you. I had no idea you were so gifted with all the forms.”

“It’s complicated. But I’d rather be prepared for what's out there.”

“Exactly! My thoughts exactly.” He looked so happy. “There is so much untapped power out there. Something I think you can feel quite well.” He looked at you expectantly. As if he was waiting for you to get the secret meaning of his words.

“You and Anakin are both so special. I think that the three of us should work closer together in the future.” He nodded. Suddenly you caught on to what he was saying.

“Sir, not to overstep -”

“Please, child. We are friends.” He smiled again, his eyes hungry.

“Well, there is a lot of power, I feel angry that The Order keeps it from me. There is a war out there and we need more than -” You waved your hands around. “This. Something stronger.”

He looked positively deranged with joy.

“I know the ways beyond the order, I could teach you and your master.”

“What would you teach us?” You asked innocently.

“The true power of the force.”

“Like the dark side?” You tried to sound even more curious.

“Perhaps.” He nodded, but you could see in his eyes what he was. His eyes had changed with his excitement. Of course, he was at the center of everything.

Master, Palpatine is the sith

It only took a moment for Anakin to knock on the door. He opened it and smiled at Palpatine, and you felt his force presence push you down onto the red carpet. You let it push you down and hold you there. in a flash of a second everything had changed.

Before Palpatine could react you felt the Jedi storm the room. Anakin killed Palpatine and a strange feeling washed over the room. You reached for Obi-Wan and he let you hold on to his side, placing an arm around your shoulders.

“He was a mother-fucking sith.” Windu groaned. Yoda put his hands over this face. Anakin looked triumphant and gave you a big smile.

Fulfilled my prophecy. Now let's get out of here.

___________

Qui-Gon's force ghost finds Obi-Wan and puts them on the right path.

The Order being stupid and Obi-Wan finally siding with Anakin. them going into exile to learn from Qui-Gon and train you. Family vibes.

Anakin being more and more like your father. His love for you always being open and accessible as you navigate your own journey. Even when you are fighting you can reach out and feel it. When you get older and follow your calling into conflicts you can reach out and feel no matter how far away you are.

Just anything other than what happened in cannon.

Him finally falling for Padme and being anxious about your response to her. Them having the twins and him always refering to you as his eldest daughter.

Obi-Wan spoiling all three of the kids and always giving you advice when you didn't want to go to Anakin.

#anakin skywalker #star wars #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker imagine #padawan reader #anakin skywalker x reader #obi wan #obi wan kenobi

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panic-in-the-multiverse · 2 years ago

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Being Ahsoka Tano’s best friend would include

Pairings: Ahsoka Tano x reader

Imagine: being Obi-Wan’s padawan and Ahsoka’s best friend

Warnings: idk, Ahsoka leaving the order (I swear I can’t watch those episodes bc I cry every damn time, not because she’s leaving the order but bc she leaves people who care for her)

A/N I love Ahsoka and it’s a wonder I haven’t written anything for her before, but here I am writing for my fav girl so I hope someone out there will enjoy this <3

Becoming friends as soon as you both met, which was when you were still in training to become a padawan, which means you grew up with each other

You’d study with eachother

Hype eachother up if one of you is feeling sad or stressed, literally just helping eachother with emotions and anything in general

Ahsoka running to you filled with excitement to tell you she’s becoming a padawan and her master will be the one and only Anakin Skywalker

You doing the same to Ahsoka when you found out your master will be the one and only Obi-Wan Kenobi

Gossiping with each other

Getting in trouble together

Pranking people together with Fives, Waxer, Boil and a few others, you tried once to prank Cody, lesson learned you will never prank Cody again, he wasn’t to happy to have his helmet filled with blue and orange glitter (he still can find glitter to this day)

Obi-Wan now has to deal with three children (you, Anakin and Ahsoka) while Cody has to deal with more than five children (You, Obi-Wan, Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex, Waxer, Boil…)

Did I mention getting in trouble together

Being another headache for the Jedi council and those who tries to protect you both and those trying to keep you out of trouble

Training your lightsaber skills with each other, being an excellent match because you always end up even because by know you know every move the other will make

Calling each other names that you hate just for the fun of it

If anyone else were to call either you or Ahsoka those names you would both go into protective mood, no one gets to call you two that but you two

Always defending and protecting each other, if it is when you get in trouble with the council or when you fight for example General Grievous doesn’t matter

I hate to write it down but sadly I think I need too after all it is a big part of Ahsoka’s life. When Ahsoka gets accused of the bombing I believe you would 100% side with her, you’re best fiends siblings after all and you always have each others backs. You try to help her prove her innocence but it didn’t go exactly as planned. We all know what happens and so when she decided to leave you were heartbroken, you couldn’t care less about the order you only cared about Ahsoka. You knew it was what she wanted so you let her go but you were still sad over it, and selfishly tried to convince her to stay because you didn’t want to be without her, after all you were practically siblings and grew up with each other. In the end she told you it was for the best and that she didn’t trust the order anymore, she’d always trust you and she did try to keep in contact with you but it was hard with the ongoing war

Then comes the times in the order without Ahsoka, and if I’m being honest I think you would kinda mope around when you thought no one was looking becasue you missed your best friend so much, your bad days become even worse because you didn’t have Ahsoka to cheer you up, but you managed as did Ahsoka who missed you as much as you missed her

I believe Obi-Wan would do his best to comfort you even though he knew as well as you that it would never be the same as Ahsoka comforting you and cheering you up, but he did his best, and that’s all you could of asked for

Anakin and you probably talked about Ahsoka a lot with eachother or avoided the topic all together

However Plo Koon talked to you about Ahsoka all the time

Skip to Ahsoka coming back with Bo-Katan to save Mandalore from Maul (why does autocorrect keep wanting to change his name to Mail), you convinced your master to let you come with Ahsoka, and so a new adventure started for the two of you

Then there’s order 66 and you, Ahsoka and Rex barely escaped

You and Ahsoka stuck together after that never leaving each other sides scared you would lose eachother again let’s not forget you got frequent calls from Rex and Obi-Wan talked to you sometimes through the force (but not much he was in hiding after all and so were you)

#x reader #x teen #x teen!reader #x you #star wars #Ahsoka Tano x reader #ahsoka tano x fem!reader #Ahsoka Tano x male!reader #Ahsoka Tano x gn!reader #Star Wars x reader #star wars the clone wars #Ahsoka Tano #Ahsoka Tano headcanon #headcanon #star wars headcanon #obi wan kenobi x padawan!reader

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obislittleone · 11 months ago

Text

made a lil something…

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x padawan!reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #hom #house of memories #tiktok

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queer-irritator · 5 months ago

Note

Mkay, for Kenobi I feel like we always skip over how much potential there is for Padawan!Obi-Wan x Padawan!Reader.

Kenobi (bless his soul) had his heart broken by when the mission was over and didn’t know how to handle it, so he goes to his closest friend since a youngling; reader. (It could be fem. Reader, but it doesn’t have to be, that’s just what I identify as 😊.) And they both develop a little crush on one another over time. And from there they both just love one another as “friends”, until the end of ROTS when they realize they can’t be without one another.

Hopefully this feeds your mind :)

I love this!! I love it so much that this has to be two parts! Not sure if you wanted smut, but I threw a little in there ;) Also not proof read bc it's me

CW: Smut, fluff, afab anatomy, no gendered language, alcohol references, hurt/comfort

Word count: 3,238

Part 1

You met Obi-wan on your first day in the Jedi temple on Courscant, he was the first person to really become your friend, even though he was two years older than you. You would always find a spot next to each other during Master Yoda’s training and lessons as younglings. There were a handful of times the two of you were given a talking to from multiple different Masters after you “disturbed the class”. To be fair, it was mostly you being disruptive, and Obi-wan giggling at your antics. Eventually you both learned your lesson to stay focused during training after it was hammered into your head enough times. As you grew older together you would sneak into each other’s sleeping quarters to goof off.

By the time you were 12 you had gotten into a routine of having Friday night hang-outs together. Switching whose room you snuck off to every other week, you hoarded snacks from the week for your night together. One week in particular you had convinced him to watch one of your favorite movies.

“You’re gonna love it!” You assured the boy next to you, elbowing him in the side playfully.

“I don’t see how that’s possible…” Obi-wan sighed dramatically and leaned his back against the wall of your bed.

You rolled your eyes and opened three different bags of snacks you have been hiding, Obi-wan’s hand immediately dove into the first bag you opened. After starting the movie on your holo-projector you mirrored his position and began to munch on your snacks.

The comfort and consistency of having Obi-wan by your side became so familiar, so when he came to tell you he was going away on a mission, the shock took your breath away.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back.” Obi-wan admitted, lowering his gaze from your eyes to the floor.

The stinging behind your eyes and the burning in your throat threatened an incoming flood of tears. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. If you were to speak you knew you would just end up crying.

He finally glanced up at you. He could almost feel his heart break seeing the well of tears in your eyes.

He softly called your name, eyebrows knitted together in concern. He stepped toward you and wrapped his arms around you, and you instinctively clung onto him and sobbed into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized between sniffles, it was embarrassing that he was seeing you like this. You weren’t aware of it at the time, but he had his own tears trailing down his cheeks.

“Don’t be sorry.” He blinked away his tears and let go of the hug to look into your eyes, “We’ll talk everyday, even if it’s just a binary message, okay?”

You nodded as you used your sleeve to wipe your tears and snot. You knew this day would come, Obi-wan had turned 15 and been training as Qui-gon’s padawan for two years now. It was time for his first mission off-world.

Qui-gon approached the doorway to your room where you and Obi-wan stood saying your good-bye’s.

“It’s time to go, Obi-wan.” He spoke calmly.

“Yes, Master.” He replied obediently.

He gave you one last hug and exchanged one last good-bye before he turned around and walked out your door.

For the first few weeks, you had both kept your promise to talk everyday. But, life started to get in the way. You became a padawan, assigned to Plo Koon and Obi-wan was becoming more engrossed in his mission. You still made time to chat a few times a month, but it wasn’t as often as either of you would have liked.

Obi-wan ended up staying on his mission for over a year. He would frequently talk to you about the Dutchess Satine he and his Master were protecting. You could tell by the way he talked about her that he thought of her as more than a friend. Whenever you would elude to the fact that he obviously had feelings for her his face would flush and he would change the subject.

You could hide your jealousy, but you couldn’t deny it. You never thought of Obi-wan as anything other than a friend until you realized you didn’t have him so close to you anymore. When you came to realize Satine wasn’t just a crush he would get over, you began to explore your own romantic interests. Often times you would just make up stories of someone you liked or held hands with just to see how Obi-wan would react. He always seemed happy for you, but his smile and words didn’t always match what his eyes showed.

One night you were reading a book in your bed when you heard a soft knock at your door. You closed your book with a sigh and pushed yourself off the bed to answer your door.

“Yes?” You spoke before you could fully take in who was standing before you.

It was Obi-wan. He surely seemed to have grown a lot for being away for just a year. He looked older, of course. But he also seemed wiser, like he had gone through many hard lessons. Before he could speak, you engulfed him in a death-grip of a hug.

“You’re back!?” You exclaimed, clinging onto him like he would disappear if you let go.

His arms softly returned your embrace and he rested his chin on your head.

“I’m back.” he confirmed.

Sensing something was off, you gingerly let go of him and looked into his eyes, searching for an answer to your unspoken questions. Becoming more in tune with his emotions you sensed a deep sadness and loss.

“What happened?” Your voice had lowered, afraid that something terrible had happened on his mission.

“I couldn’t do it.” He returned your same tone of softness.

“Do what?” Your brows furrowed together in confusion and concern. You gently led him into your room, the door automatically closing behind him.

“I couldn’t leave the order… For Satine.” He finally admitted, taking a seat on the edge of your bed.

A sad sigh escaped your lips as you sat next to him, your knee brushing against his. You knew how deeply he cared for Satine, how much pain he must be in. But part of you couldn’t help feel some relief. You decided that you were relieved no one was dead or seriously harmed, not that you wouldn’t be losing Obi-wan.

“I’m so sorry, Obi.” You placed your hand on his back and gently rubbed small circles with your hand.

He was hunched forward, head drooping down and you saw a tear fall from his cheek and leave a wet stain on his clothing. As your heart broke in two, you pulled him into another hug.

Obi-wan wrapped an arm around you but had pulled away slightly to look into your eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated yourself, your voice barely audible.

He lifted his free hand to cup the side of your face and gently brushed his thumb over your cheek. Before you could question his actions, his lips were connected to yours. In any other situation you would be ecstatic to be sharing your first kiss with the boy you grew up with. The boy you had been unknowingly longing for since you very first met. But his kiss felt desperate, insecure, and it was laced in pain. You were frozen for the few seconds his lips were on you. When he had pulled away he looked terrified.

“Obi-wan…” You began, but were cut off by more tears falling from your best friend’s eyes.

All you could do was wrap your arms around him, and this time he just fell into you, sobbing. You placed a hand on the back of his head to hold him closer while shushing him and telling him it was okay.

You held him in your arms all night until he eventually fell asleep. You stayed awake for a few hours switching between rubbing his back and stroking his head.

The next morning he tried to apologize for his actions, but before he could find the words to get out you were shaking your head and telling him not to worry about it. That was the last time you spoke of your kiss, but definitely not the last time you thought about it.

Time marched on, Obi-wan came to terms that his feelings and attachment to Satine could not progress if he were to continue his Jedi training. The two of you followed this trend of hurt and loss followed by getting too close to each other. Despite the two of you agreeing that you wouldn’t share anymore kisses or stay awake until the early hours of the morning holding each other, it never failed to occur. One of you would be hurting and seek the other out for comfort, but in the feelings of despair and lowness, you clung to each other in ways you both knew you shouldn’t. It was always just short kisses, holding hands, laying in bed together, until Master Qui-gon had died. You didn’t think it would be possible to see Obi-wan in more pain than after leaving Satine, but you were sadly mistaken.

It was a few weeks after he died, everyone was beginning to settle into the new normality of life without the Master’s presence. And Obi-wan was once again knocking at your door late in the evening. Usually when he came to see you this time of night he couldn’t sleep or had an extra hard day.

“Come in.” You called as you closed your holo-screen.

You were studying for your trials to become a Jedi Knight, specifically a Jedi Investigator. Obi-wan had gained the rank of Jedi Knight after defeating Darth Maul, excusing him from performing the trials, and rightfully so. Everything had changed so drastically in a such a short amount of time. Qui-gon was gone, Obi-wan defeated a sith, became a knight and gained a padawan.

“Still studying so late?” Obi-wan questioned you.

“Yeah, well not everyone is as naturally gifted as you are, Jedi Knight Kenobi.” You teased him.

He chuckled, but you could tell he had an especially mischievous demeanor to him tonight.

“What are you up to?” You raised an eyebrow at him out of suspicion.

“Oh, nothing.” He eluded your question as he walked around your room casually, “I was just curious if you’d like to get a drink?”

You smiled at him, but held your suspicion, “Sure… is that all you were curious about?”

“Maybe.” Is all he said to you as he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, observing your movements.

You rolled your eyes and slipped on your shoes, “You’re a dick.” You said, elbowing him in the side before leading the way out of your room. You could hear his chuckle as he trailed behind you.

The two of you walked to a hotel a few blocks away that had a nice bar and restaurant in the lobby. Obi-wan led the way towards the bar and ordered the both of you a drink. You leaned against the bar, using your elbow to prop yourself up slightly.

“So, how has Anakin been doing?” You initiated the usual small talk.

“Very well, actually. He’s a quick learner.” Obi-wan casually bragged about his new padawan.

“I’m not surprised, he has a great teacher.” You smiled at him as a droid set down your drinks.

You handed one of the glasses to Obi-wan and clinked your glass with his lightly, “To new beginnings.” You toasted and took a healthy gulp of your drink.

Obi-wan nodded in agreement and mirrored your actions, “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about tonight.”

“Mh, is that so?” You questioned him, continuing to sip your drink. You could notice that he had more of a nervous energy now that the conversation topic had switched.

“Yes, but I might need another drink first.” He chuckled slightly, finishing his drink.

You were starting to become suspicious of what was on his mind. Could he be trying to get up the nerve to tell you he was leaving again?

“What’s going on, Obi? You know you can talk to me about anything.” You set your empty glass down and placed your hand on his shoulder.

He took a moment to order another drink before turning his attention to you, “I know. I’ve just been thinking… about us.”

A puzzled look came over your face, “What do you mean? What about us?”

You felt your heartbeat start to increase. All you could imagine was him telling you that you two were two close and it was against the Jedi code. That you can’t have a friendship any longer. Obi-wan downed the shot he ordered as soon as it was set on the table. It must be bad if he can’t even talk to you sober.

He lowered his voice slightly, “How we go to each other at our darkest times… You’ve always been there for me.”

You gave him a sweet smile, “Of course, you’re there for me too. That’s what friends are for.”

“See, that’s the issue. I’ve been thinking about you in ways I shouldn’t… More than a friend.” He had been inching closer to you.

A blush crept onto your cheeks. The intimate moments you’ve shared were never something you discussed outside of the heat of the moment. It was the unspoken rule you had. But, Obi-wan did seem to be breaking all types of rules lately.

When you didn’t give him any response besides staring into his piercing blue eyes, he moved even closer to you and placed a hand on the bar so it was gently on top of yours.

He leaned close to your ear and whispered, “I want you.”

Suddenly your throat seemed dry, you had to clear it before you could get any words out, “I want you too.”

He didn’t hesitate to plant a soft kiss on your lips. You moved your lips against his as your eyes fluttered closed. Whenever you felt Obi-wan’s body against yours, it felt like home. Like you could finally breathe and relax. He pulled away too soon for your liking.

“I got a room upstairs.” He informed you, resting his forehead against yours.

You nodded as a grin spread across your lips, “Okay. Let’s go.”

Before that night, the two of you had never had any sexual contact. There had been a few times Obi-wan got a boner in the middle of a heavy make-out session, but that was when you two would stop and he would be too embarrassed to stay in your presence any longer. It was a line the two of you had always been too scared to cross. Not because of each other, but because of the Jedi code, or if someone else would hear or see you. But tonight was different. It was perfect in its own, very Obi-wan way. There were some awkward moments at first and Obi-wan was uncharacteristically clumsy at times. But once you were both naked and he was on top of you, things came naturally.

“You’re sure this is okay?” It must have been the tenth time Obi-wan was asking you.

“Yes, I’m sure.” You assured him as he was leaning over you, slightly sticky with sweat and concern plastered on his features.

“Because I can stop if you’re not sure-” He began again, but you interrupted him by placing your hands on the side of his face.

“Obi-wan Kenobi. I would very much like to have sex with you. I’m very ready and I’m very sure. If you are too, can you please put your dick in me.” You were staring into his eyes with every word you said.

He chuckled slightly as his head dropped down, but then he nodded, “Okay.”

He carefully guided himself and pushed through your entrance. You let a moan out as the feeling of his cock stretching and filling you up consumed all your senses. Obi-wan placed one hand on the side of your hip and used the other to hold himself up as he set forth a slow rocking motion.

He experimented with different angles and quickly learned by the sounds you made and how your nails raked across his skin which ones worked the best. As the true gentleman he is, he spent most of the time making sure you were thoroughly satisfied. It wasn’t until you began to encourage him that he focused more on his own pleasure.

As you were recovering from your third orgasm, you spoke up, “It’s your turn now, Obi.”

Your chest was rising and falling heavily, your hair a mess from the pillows and Obi-wan’s hands, and a dark red flush across your face.

“But you look so beautiful like this. I don’t want it to end.” He protested, planting soft kisses on your neck and chest.

You smiled and ran your fingers through his hair that he had recently started to grow out, “You can’t have all the fun.”

You sat up and switched your position so you were on top of him now.

“Oh, this should be fun.” He chuckled and rested a hand on your thigh and rubbed your skin gently with his thumb.

“Just you wait.” You teased him as you slipped his cock back into you and began to rock your hips back and forth.

You could tell he liked it by the way he shut up and tightened his grip on your thigh. This encouraged you to go faster and you held onto his forearm to help keep your balance.

“Oh, stars.” He was almost whimpering as he watched you ride him.

He couldn’t keep his hands to himself, he used his free hand to rub circles on your clit. You were both a moaning mess as you continued to please each other. It took everything to keep your eyes on Obi-wan, you wanted to see him come undone beneath you. It didn’t take much longer as you felt his cock twitching inside of you and Obi-wan’s eyes squeezed shut and his eyebrows knit together as he reached his orgasm. The sight alone would have been enough to get you off, but his thumb was still rubbing your clit when you reached your final orgasm of the night.

After taking a moment for both of you to come down off your highs, you lifted your shaky legs and collapsed next to Obi-wan. He puts his arm around you and turned his head to kiss you on the forehead. You instinctively scooted closer to him and curled up against his side, hand resting on his chest. It was the first time neither of you felt guilt creeping into your minds. The first time there was no ‘We shouldn’t have done that’ or ‘It can’t happen again’.

The two of you had come to the very delusional conclusion that you weren’t in violation of the Jedi code on two conditions. One, that you weren’t in a commited romantic relationship together, and two, that it didn’t become something you did regularly or often. It would be casual, beneficial even. Two friends and co-workers helping each other relieve stress. Of course it would remain a secret, but not because it was wrong, because your friendship was no one else’s business but yours.

A/N: I'm gonna do my best to have second part up real soon 🫡

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #padawan! obi wan x reader #padawan! obi wan x padawan! reader #obi wan x gn reader #obi wan smut #obi wan kenobi fanfic #obi wan fanfic #star wars fanfic #obi wan needs love

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blxkstar · 4 months ago

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POV: You're a Jedi

youtube

I made a playlist for being a jedi in Star Wars! Please check it out!

Spotify version

"The Force. What does it feel like?" "Have you ever been afraid of the dark? How does it feel when you turn on the light?” “I feel safe,” “Yes, it feels like that.”

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floffytofu · 1 year ago

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Obi-wan : We call that a traumatic experience.

Obi-wan, turning to Anakin : Not a "bruh moment".

Obi-wan, turning to Ahsoka : Not "artistic inspiration".

Obi-wan, turning to Reader : And DEFINITELY not an "oof LMAO".

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #clone wars #padawan reader #child reader #platonic #star wars incorrect quotes #obi wan x padawan reader platonic #anakin skywalker #ahsoka #anakin skywalker x reader platonic #ahsoka x reader platonic

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persephone-writes2 · 1 year ago

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On the Streets of Coruscant

Padawan! Obi-Wan x Fem!reader

Part Two (posted on my new account)

Description: The reader meets the dashingly handsome Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi at a club, deciding to take him to see the sights of Coruscant.

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings & tags: slight swearing (i refuse to use canon swear words), drinking, kissing, lots of fluff, pre phantom menace, everyone is an adult in this! me making up star wars names (this shit is hard!), bittersweet ending, saying “chuckled” too much

Notes: This is the second fic I've ever posted, and its been YEARS. Its also the first time I've written Obi-Wan, so sorry if this is awful! I would appreciate any constructive criticism and reactions <3 Also, this was inspired by these bts pics of Ewan cause ughghghg!!

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The streets of Coruscant were always buzzing, day or night, and whatever the weather. The only refuge one could find from its constant commotion was indoors, preferably on the upper levels, where the noise could be drowned out and the shades could be drawn. While not on the lowest level, Y/N had no such luxury, having to deal with the hustle and bustle no matter what she did. However, it was a small price to pay for leaving Corellia, which was beautiful, yet boring. It wasn't her fault that some of the best schools in the galaxy were located on Coruscant, or that their clubs were so good.

It was Zhellday, which meant Y/N had once again found herself in her and her friends usual club, which one of their fathers owned. It was the best mid-level bar in the region, and they got to drink for cheap, so they rarely went anywhere else. They sat around one of the many small seating areas away from the dance floor, nursing some early drinks and gazing around at the crowd. Ya'sami, a twi'lek who had come to Coruscant for the same reason as Y/N, quickly downed their drink, smiling at the group.

"Someone dance with me," they said, looking around at the group.

Ripp shook his head. "I'm not drunk enough." They all knew you had to get Ripp good and drunk if he was going to dance.

"Alright," Y/N said in an exaggeratedly annoyed tone, "If you insist."

"Finally!" Ya'sami laughed, "Its what we come for, is it not?"

Laughing, Ya'sami took Y/N's hand and led them to the dance floor. The music was annoyingly loud, but neither noticed, forgetting their loads of schoolwork and impending due-dates in favor of the drumming boom of sound. The music was different on Coruscant than it was on Corellia. While Corellia wasn’t known for its soft melody’s or brooding lyrics, Coruscant’s made it seem so. On Coruscant, music was meant for partying, and Y/N took it up on its enticing offer.

After a while, Y/N grew parched, and yelled to Ya'sami over the noise, "I'm going to the bar!" Ya'sami kept on dancing, now in their own little groove.

Y/N pushed through the thick crowd, bumping elbows but trying her best to be polite. She muscled her way to the front, finding a small empty space along the surface of the bar. She rested her elbows against it, waiting for the bartender, who knew her well, to come over. It would take a while, since it was peak hours on a Zhellday, but she didn't mind. It was nice to cool off, as she could feel her arms growing sticky with the heat of all the bodies pressed into one room.

The bartender came up to give the man beside her his drink, throwing her an apologetic look. "Sorry Y/N, I'm swamped, I'll be there in a minute."

"No problem," she said, smiling.

Just as the space opened up next to her, another came to take his place. She felt something rough brush against her arm, and glancing over, she caught a look at the unfairly attractive man next to her. She looked away quickly, smiling sheepishly to herself. Even as an adult, Y/N always felt like a schoolgirl around attractive people. Trying to act inconspicuous, she dared another glance. His hair was a reddish brown, cropped short and spiky around his face. His nose was straight and his brow was strong. As the colored lights danced against his face, she noticed a small dimple on his chin. Stars, was he cute. Furrowing her brows, Y/N first thought it strange to wear such an outfit at a club of all places. His robes were plain and loose upon his chest, his deep brown cloak draped over his shoulders and billowing down to the floor. Then, the realization hit her as her eyes honed in on the small braid cascading down his left shoulder.

Y/N looked away quickly, head reeling. She knew little about the Jedi, only what her friend from Coruscant had told her. "Very secretive," Ripp had said, "All any normal person really knows about them is their 'force' or whatever it is, and their light sabers. And, once when I was a kid, I heard one got kicked out because he was seeing a woman on the outside."

And, Y/N had found out one way or another, before they were Jedi Masters, they wore a long braid on the side of their head.

Nothing Y/N knew about them said they couldn't go to clubs on their nights off, or did they even get a night off? Even if they technically could, Y/N had never seen one casually grabbing a drink anywhere, or even heard about it. It seemed like something people would gossip about.

The bartender came wizzing around the corner. The man, or rather Jedi, beside Y/N stuck his hand out as he passed.

"I'm looking for someone named-" he began in a strong Coruscanti accent. The bartender only glanced his way.

"Sorry kid, I'm a little busy," he said before quickly walking away, carrying far too many drinks.

The Jedi huffed, hanging his head for a moment before looking back at the sea of people. Before Y/N even knew what she was doing, she turned to the handsome stranger.

"I might know who you're looking for."

He turned to her, eyes blue and bright, and she nearly gasped. Stars, she kept saying over and over in her head, stars, stars, stars.

He raised his eye brows at her, looking around for moment before turning back to her gaze. Her eyes bounced around, fearing he may be able to tell she fancied him just by looking at her.

"You might?" he asked, clearly surprised, though Y/N didn't know what exactly for. Was he shocked that she was listening to him, or that some random club-goer dared to speak to him, a Jedi-in-training. She couldn't think about it for too long, as he was waiting for an answer.

"Y-yeah," she stuttered, "I come here a lot, and my friends father owns the place."

He nodded, giving her a small smile, making her nerves build even more than they had before. She wasn't sure if it was because he was so handsome, or the fact that she knew he had a light saber stashed under his robes and lived in the big temple on the upper level.

"I'm looking for a Mirialan named Craz. He's said to spend some time here." He looked at her sternly, yet with a clam air about him. Y/N had expected him to be arrogant, someone of such importance. However, she had the feeling he was not at all, despite the authority he could so easily command. Although he was on the job, or so she assumed, he posture was relaxed and easy like his robes.

She shook her head, feeling guilty or taking up his time when she had no answers. He only looked slightly disappointed, a crease forming between his brows.

As he went to speak, Y/N interrupted, again without thinking. The thought of him leaving, without learning even so much as his name, made her want to prolong it as long as she could. She told herself it was curiosity, rather than hopeless attraction.

"My friends might know, though! Most of them have been living here longer than I have."

His eyes turned upwards in thought before he glanced around. He shrugged, smiling once again. "Thank you," he said, letting Y/N lead the way from the bar.

She could feel him following behind her, so close yet never touching. Weaving through the crowd, she looked back once to see if he was still there or had been lost amongst the people. He was, catching her looking and staring straight into her eyes. While he was not smiling, he seemed somewhat amused at her guilty glance. She realized it was foolish to think he, a Jedi, might have lost his way.

They made their way to her friends, most of which were still sitting at the spot where she left them. While a few had gone to dance, Ripp, whos father was the owner, was thankfully still there. If anyone would know who the man was, it would be him.

"Guys," she said, the man standing beside her, "this is..." She faltered.

"Obi-Wan," he said.

Ripp's eye went wide, and Y/N could feel her face heat up already. She should have known they'd freak out at the sight of her bringing along a Jedi.

Dani, who was sitting beside Ripp, began to giggle. Y/N rolled her eyes, knowing it was he was handsome.

"What brings a gentleman such as yourself into a place like this?" Ripp joked. Dani bit her lip, making Y/N want to crawl inside of herself. Obi-Wan either didn't notice Dani's shameless display or chose not to react. Rather, he chuckled at Ripp's joke.

"I am looking for a Mirilalan, Craz. I was told you may know where he is."

"Oh, I know Craz," Ripp answered, leaning back into the couch, "My father had to throw him out of here a few months ago and told him never to come back."

Obi-Wan put a hand on his chin in thought. "Do you know where he might be these days?"

Ripp shook his head, "No clue, sorry."

Obi-Wan huffed, placing a hand on his hip. In doing so, he revealed his light saber hanging from the leather belt along his waist. Y/N had never seen one up close, only catching glimpses on the holo. It's impressiveness did not escape her, nor did its elegance. For a moment she wondered if he would let her see it closer if she asked, though she promptly pushed this thought from her mind. Not only would it be rude, but she felt as if outside eyes on such a weapon could somehow tarnish its great power.

Besides the deadly force hanging from his belt, Obi-Wan appeared the more normal he had all night. His stance was even more relaxed than it had been before, as if he was just another club-goer waiting on a drink.

After a moment of thought, Obi-Wan spoke again, "Thank you for your help, and I apologize for taking so much of your time."

Y/N nearly laughed, for he had not taken more than a minute. She wondered if all Jedi were so polite. As he turned to leave, Ripp called after him, not hiding his excitement, "Nice meeting you, Obi-Wan!"

Obi-Wan turned and smirked, offering a courteous, "Likewise." before walking away.

As he disappeared into the crowd, Dani stared dreamily into the distance. "Ya'sami's going to be so mad when she hears about this! Stars, are all Jedi that cute?"

"He can probably still hear you," Ripp joked, making Dani go pink.

For the third time that evening, Y/N acted without thinking, all due to the handsome Jedi. Without responding to her friends, she turned and followed after Obi-Wan, trying to reach him in the crowd. He was hard to spot, but she caught him skirting around the dance floor, robe flowing behind. As she neared him, she shouted his name. He turned, not looking all that surprised. Perhaps he sensed me coming.

"Yes?" he asked, accent smooth and level, even through all the noise.

She hadn't thought of what she was going to say, and her heart began racing, threatening to burst from her chest. She had never acted on so many impulses in one night before, usually allowing herself a single bad decision and refraining from the rest. The common culprits were almost always benign, such as one too many drinks or dancing too close to a handsy guy. Never had she been so forward with someone who she knew, deep down, would never fall for her advances.

"I-I," she stuttered. Maker, get yourself together. "I feel bad, for not helping you more, taking up your time."

He did not laugh, but looked at her with a soft pity. "It's quite alright. Your friend provided me with important information. I will search elsewhere."

Elsewhere, not here, not with me.

"Well, let me at least buy you a drink," she offered, smiling. Seeing his reservations, she offered another excuse, "I get them half off anyway."

He thought for a moment, tilting his head slightly before meeting her eyes. Could Jedi even drink?

“Come on,” she pleaded, growing a bit desperate. Embarrassed by her own words, she attempted to backpedal a bit, “one for the road.”

"Alright, if you insist," he answered, looking towards the bar. They found a spot to wait, Obi-Wan resting an elbow against it and peering out across the room. Y/N angled towards him slightly, though kept a polite distance.

"I'm Y/N," she said, holding out her hand.

He took it, handshake far softer than she expected. She felt a spark run up her arm.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Y/N".

She loved the way her name sounded on his lips. She never was one to swoon over the Coruscanti accent, as she had run across many travelers with it on Corellia. There was just something about his voice, subtle but strong, serious on the edge of jest.

"Are you allowed to tell me what this Craz has done to warrant your search?" Y/N was half joking and half curious, especially since learning that Ripps father had thrown him out not too long ago.

"He's an important member of a crime syndicate that runs out of the lower levels, but they've been making their way up the city for some time now."

"Maker, I didn't know we got those kinds of characters in here." She truly was shocked, for she had only seen a few fights break out here, and never with blasters.

"You usually don't. It's easier to keep it contained if they don't spread levels, which is why I'm here."

The bartender interrupted them, looking a bit dazed due to his consent running around.

"Y/N," he said, and then looking towards Obi-Wan, "Sorry about before, Kid. What do you need?"

Obi-Wan replied before Y/N had the chance, "It's all taken care of."

The bartender looked pleased to not have to answer any questions on such a busy night. "So, what can I get you?"

"I'll have a phattro," Y/N began, "And you'll have.." she said, looking towards Obi-Wan.

"A corellian," he said, glancing towards her with a thankful nod.

"A phattro and a corellian," the bartender repeated before walking away to make the drinks.

Y/N smiled towards Obi-Wan. "A corellian," she said slyly. Obi-Wan gave her an amused look. "Thats where I'm from."

"A planet rich with history," he offered, for the first time seemingly genuinely intrigued.

"Yes, and a stagnant present," she chuckled dryly, "have you ever been there?"

He shook his head. "I have not had the pleasure."

"I'd say it is more of a pleasure that you haven't been there. It's excitements pale in comparison to Coruscant, unless you enjoy working long hours on ships."

For the first time, he fully laughed, rather than a reserved chuckle. His eyes shined in the lights, forcing Y/N to look away before her knees gave out.

"I'm not much for flying," said Obi-Wan, still looking at her, "My strong suits lay elsewhere."

"And where may that be?" She leaned in a bit closer to him, for a moment forgetting he was not just a man she met at the bar who happened to catch her eye. He did not move away or look displeased. In fact, he appeared amused.

"Conversation," he answered simply.

The bartender came over with their drinks.

“Put it on my tab,” she said to the bartender, who nodded and walked off.

Y/N watched as Obi-Wan took a sip of his, emptying half of the small glass.

"Then I shall test your abilities," she said, smirking as she lead him away from the bar and into the crowd. They stood amongst the others for a moment, now closer than they had been to each other all night. Once again, his cloak pressed against her shoulder, though she now felt his arm beneath it. She tried to hide her childish joy at the barely-there connection, taking a sip of her drink.

It was a bit louder now that they moved farther into the thick of things. Obi-Wan was forced to lean closer to her ear as he spoke, "Did you come to Coruscant only for the excitements?"

She couldn't help but laugh, "No, I go to the university. The night life is only a bonus."

"What are your studies in?" he asked, surprising Y/N for the umptenth time. She hadn't expected him to be interested in her life.

"Intergalatic relations. I hope to work for senatorial office one day."

He smiled brightly. Stars, he had a lovely smile.

"An honorable profession."

She could feel his eyes on her as he spoke, swearing she could catch him daring a look at her outfit, which was far more flashy than she would wear in her day-to-day life. Rather than feeling embarrassed, she thanked herself for putting so much thought in her partying appearance, which Ya'sami had said was totally smokin'. At the time she had brushed it off, laughing, though now she realized Ya'sami may have been right.

"Not as honorable as yours," she chuckled nervously. It was the first time either of them had hinted at him being a Jedi, and she soon feared that it would scare him away. While he did not seem to be easily frightened, rather on the contrary, she did not know if he was bending any rules to have a drink with her.

He looked away, seeming to remember his place for a moment. To Y/N's delight, he turned back quickly.

"We all have our place," he offered, "Without the senatorial office, who knows what would have become of me."

Boldly, Y/N began to push the boundaries of whatever this was. "I'm sure you would've done great things either way. I can't imagine you back home in the shipyards."

"Without the Corellian shipyards, where would the senate procure their greatest ships?" His question came off not as defensive, or even as if he was trying to steer the conversation away from himself. Rather, Y/N had the feeling she had genuinely engaged him in an interesting topic of conversation. She tried not to let her chest swell with a strange sort of pride.

"I have to say, your respect for my home world surprises me, especially due to their exceedingly cold attitude towards the Senate."

He laughed, making Y/N wonder how she could make him do it again. She wanted to listen to him laugh all night.

"I am starting to see why you left."

"Perhaps you are coddled by the comforts of Coruscant. Though I'd think that you've traveled to your fair share of systems." She took a sip of her drink, watching him from the corner of her eye. A pink light shined against the back of his head, highlighting his spiky hair.

"It's one of the perks," he said before finishing the rest of his drink. Fuck, he'll probably leave now.

Thankfully, he kept talking, "Though you often do not get the chance to sight-see."

"What a shame." She sincerely felt sorry for Obi-Wan, realizing that he likely didn't get out much. Perhaps thats why he allowed her to buy him a drink, why he so thoughtfully indulged her wishes to entertain him, even for a few minutes.

As she thought on this more, she pondered the possibility that he had never been taken around Coruscant, shown the touristy landmarks that everyone visits when they first arrive. Likely he had been all around the city, though it was probably for work with the inability to stop and take it all in. All at once, she had the ludicrous, irresponsible idea of taking his hand and dragging him around to all the sights that enthrall the thousands of tourists that flood the streets everyday.

"I assume you've seen the sights of Coruscant?" she asked shyly, internally pleading that he would say no.

He shook his head and she forced herself to not jump for joy. "Only in passing, though I know my way around the lower levels quite well. But I do not think that is what you meant," he chuckled.

All too eagerly, she spoke in excitement, "Well, how much time do you have?"

He sighed, looking weary. She could tell he was going over the time in his head, thinking about going along with her across the city, and about whoever was waiting for him back at the temple.

"I really shouldn't..." he said, mostly to himself. A smile began to form at the corner of his mouth.

"Come on," she pried, grinning up at him, "It'll only take a little while. Just call it a much needed break." In an act of flirtatious desperation, she held out her hand for him to take. Looking down at it, then up to her, he placed his hand in hers, smiling.

She quickly began leading, or rather pulling him towards the exit of the club. As they passed a small table, they each half hazzardly placed their drink down. For a moment she remembered she was here with friends, who were likely wondering where she was, though she hadn't the mind to care. Caught up in the temptation of spending the evening with Obi-Wan, with whom she had grown more and more enthralled with, Y/N giddily pushed the heavy doors to walk out into the cool city night. Now outside, the music was muffled, yet the bass was still heavy in the air. Despite the crisp temperature, Y/N's body was still warm with the heat of the club, and with the feeling of Obi-Wan's hand clasped in hers. She turned back to look at him, who was a bit more collected than herself, but still more carefree than he had been in the club. Perhaps he wasn’t used to suck loud music, or being surrounded by drunk patrons looking to dance. Slowly and to her glee, she could tell he was forgetting the original purpose of his visit.

"So, do you have a preference to where we got first, or I shall I choose?" she asked.

Obi-Wan answered quickly, "You choose."

"To the Plaza then," she said, beginning to walk down the crowded street. Hands still in one anothers, she lead Obi-Wan down the enclosed street towards an opening to the roadway. They each looked out across the wide space filled with cruisers and neon lights on the side of the skyscrapers. Billboards flashed bright images which reflected upon the fast moving cruises, pictures clear against the long transports. Openings in the platforms above revealed the deep black of the night sky, which did not shine with stars.

"Its the one thing I miss about Corellia," she began, staring up at the sky, "The stars."

Obi-Wan looked up and then back at her, though she did not notice, too busy imagining what night looked like on Corellia.

"I remember the first time I saw them," he said with a sigh. Y/N turned towards him, gently holding his hand a bit tighter. "It was on Noe'ha'on. Before then I had only seen them in ships, or briefly on the holo."

For the second time, Y/N felt sorry for Obi-Wan. She almost made herself laugh at the thought of feeling sorry for a Jedi.

He began again, "It was if I was seeing them for the first time. I could not imagine anything in the galaxy more beautiful."

They were staring at each other now, and Y/N felt her heart begin beating faster. She wished he was talking about her and not to her. For an instant, she thought about saying no, you're the most beautiful thing in the galaxy. Then, fear struck her. Could he hear what she was thinking?

"You must see them a lot now, going place to place."

"Yes, but they deserve a moment of peace which does not often find itself on missions.” He seemed to grow lost in thought, and Y/N enjoyed simply watching him think for a moment.

"When I was a little girl,” she said, breaking the silence, “I would sit and look at them for hours. In the winter, if you were lucky, sometimes you could catch aurora borealis." She began to think about showing Obi-Wan the show of lights that would grace the Corellian skies.

He smiled at her words. "I have seen that too, though only once. That was long ago."

"Its too bad I can't show you that tonight," she said with a sad smile, "though I will keep my promise and show you what the travelers come for!" Her excitement returned, and she turned to hail a taxi. One came wizzing by and to an abrupt stop in front of them. The door slid open, and Y/N was forced to let go of Obi-Wan's hand. She mourned the loss of his touch, which she did not expect she would receive again. The excuse to take his hand was all but gone, so she settle for sitting next to him.

The droid asked them their destination, with Y/N answering in the calmest manner she could muster. She thought it wise to hide her elation at his company, attempting to present an air of coolness that would likely fail. Obi-Wan had not yet recoiled fully at her advances of friendship, which she was thankful for.

Y/N looked out the window of the taxi, watching as it climbed through the air towards the upper levels. She had been on Coruscant for a year now, but the foreign beauty of the city was not yet lost on her. Obi-Wan watched her expression of wonder at the sights, which she was meant to be showing him. He chuckled at her childlike enrapture, making her turn to him with a confused look.

"Are you making fun of me?" she asked in amusement. He seemed a bit horrified at the thought of offending her.

"Oh, no, I-"

She cut him off with laughter., “I'm only teasing."

He visibly relaxed at her words, his smiling returning.

"I still can't get over the sight of the city at night," she explained, "I lived a ways off from any city on Corellia. I'm not entirely used to it yet, though I'm not sure I want to be."

"Wonder is a great gift," his voice was tender, much softer than before, "most loose it as they grow."

Her chest warmed at his words, feeling fuzzy. She had never met anyone like Obi-Wan, and not just because he was a Jedi. His poise came off not as a cockiness, but rather comfortably dignified. She did not get the impression that he thought her below him, even though she met him as he was on some important work and she was blowing off steam at a club. They way he took her hand so easily, the way he allowed her to take him away in a taxi, and the way in which he complimented a trait of hers she often felt insecure about; her ceaseless wonder at the world around her, made her feel as though she could tell him anything. She fought the urge to tell him just that, that she felt as though she could tell him anything. Don't scare him away.

"You're very kind," she said instead, feeling as if it was somewhat comparable to her true thoughts.

He smiled softly. Y/N reasoned that he smiled at everyone that way.

"Kindness is also a virtue, though I do not lie. It would do many good if they had a bit more wonder left in them." He seemed serious, and under any other circumstance, Y/N would have expected him to reach out and touch her. Stars, did she want him to, though she knew he would not.

"They say it's a Corellian thing, we've always got an itch."

He pondered her words before speaking. Y/N noted that he always spoke carefully and with purpose.

"Can you truly assign a trait to an entire planet?" he asked with a chuckle.

She knew she wasn't meant to answer, but she shrugged anyhow, deciding to tease him. "Lets see. Where are you from?"

"Well, I'd normally say I was from Coruscant, though I was not born here. I was born on Stewjon." She sensed something stir within him. Perhaps she should not have asked where he was from. Y/N did not know how the Jedi got to the temple, if their parents were also Jedi who lived in the temple, or if they were normal people. Her understanding of the force of elementary at best, having no clue if it was hereditary or something which just occurred. All she knew was Ripp's words, I heard one got kicked out because he was seeing a woman on the outside. Did they mean they could date on the inside, or not at all? Either way, she knew she had little to no chance of catching his eye.

Before she was fully caught up in her thoughts, she folded, "Hm, you've seemed to beat me. I know almost nothing about Stewjon."

He smirked, looking quite proud of himself, though Y/N knew it was just an act.

"I thought you said you were a intergalatic relations student?" he taunted. She flashed him a glare, though a smile played on her lips.

"It's impossible to know things about every system. Though, if you'd like to test me, ask me about someplace else." An impish glimmer shined in her eyes.

Obi-Wan thought for a moment, placing a hand on his chin.

"Hm, what about Kerev Doi?"

"Kerev Doi," she repeated slowly, searching her mind, "Located along the Nanth'ri Trade Route, it is home to Bodach'i. It's economy is mainly dependent on its spice mining, though it is aided by the various crime syndicates which have their hands in a variety of different enterprises across the planet, which I am sure you must be well aware of," she answered proudly, holding her head up high, "Would you like more?"

He raised his brows, chuckling at her manner. "No, you have proven yourself a fine student."

She giggled, catching herself smirking at him in a not so friendly manner. Darting her eyes away, she cleared her throat, "Thank you."

The taxi came to a rushing stop, with the droid announcing they have arrived at their location. Y/N reached into her bag for credits, but Obi-Wan beat her to it, pulling some out of his robes.

"Allow me," he said in passing, handing over the credits and stepping out onto the platform. Butterflies erupted in her stomach at the simple gesture, even more so when Obi-Wan leaned over and offered his hand to her as she stepped out.

"Thanks," she said, trying to hide her smile. He only nodded at her, turning to look at the Plaza. It was even busier than the streets outside of the club, though the people were far more diverse. Visitors of all ages crowded around the street vendors, many others lazily strolling around the open space. A few long lines of people were gathered outside of restaurants, others coming in and out of the shops.

"I've never been here at night," Obi-Wan said, a bit breathless, "and I have never gotten the chance to look around."

It was the first time that night that Obi-Wan seemed to be the one mesmerized and not Y/N. The change gave her a hope that she knew she shouldn't have, though she let it lead her anyway. She instinctually looped her arm through his and began walking into the Plaza. Obi-Wan looked down at their linked arms but did not comment, nor pull away.

They strolled through the Plaza at a leisurely pace, each gazing around at nothing in particular. Y/N stopped them in front of a restaurant, which emitted soft music from its closed doors.

"Have you ever been to this one," she asked, pointing at the restaurant.

He shook his head.

"Me either. Ripp says its been here practically forever, but you need to make reservations a year in advance," she laughed, "I also heard it's wildly expensive."

"I've been to a few fancy banquets," he began as they started walking again, "but I personally feel they're overrated."

"Well, thats good for me," she joked, wondering where he would have found himself at a banquet.

"If I am being honest, I have found the best food is often not found in such places. You have to go to the seedy parts of town," he chuckled, gazing at her as if she was an old friend.

She laughed along with him, feeling whatever tension she was once experiencing wash away. She had all but forgotten her promise not to scare him away, giving into her desire to speak with him as if he weren't a Jedi.

They began walking down one side of the Plaza, stopping to look in the window of a shop. The display was filled with items of all sorts; jewelry, beautiful glass blown bowls and vessels, and at its center a metal sculpture.

“There’s a sculpture like that on Mandalore,” he said, pointing to it.

“You’ve been to Mandalore?” She asked excitedly. He nodded. “Tell me what it’s like.”

He paused to collect his words, each still looking at the sculpture in the window. “It is quite unique, the architecture is magnificent, unlike anything in the galaxy that I’ve had the chance to see.” He turned to her. “There’s more metal than you’ve ever seen, everywhere you turn it is there, towering above and below. Thats another system with a rich history, though I am sure you know all about it.”

“Yes, it is fascinating,” was all she could muster at the moment, imagining it. “I’d love to visit one day.”

“If you work for the Senate, I’m sure you will find yourself in many different places.”

“Yes, well, I’m still taking in Coruscant," she said with a sigh.

They strolled along, chatting as they went, with Y/N asking most of the questions. She learned of some of the places Obi-Wan has been over the years, though did not pry into why he was there. She knew it was likely on Jedi business, assuming that such things should be kept secret, or least not told out in the open. At the sight of a display of dresses, Y/N began telling him about a festival on her home world.

“It happens every spring, there’s a big band on this stage in the center of town, with ships flying overhead. The streets are decorated with banners and flowers. Stars, it’s beautiful. There’s dancers as well. One year, not too long ago, I danced. It took months of practice, and when we all walked into the streets I thought that I might faint. We wore dresses just like that,” she spoke animatedly, recalling the joy she had felt at the festival, one of the only times she did not find living on Corellia boring. Obi-Wan listened to her intently, holding on the every word as he pictured her description.

“I would have liked to see that,” he said with a wide smile.

“I’m sure you can make an excuse to see it one day,” she replied, though he shook his head with a laugh.

“No, I meant that I would have liked to see you.”

Y/N felt her face warm, and too embarrassed to look at him, cast her eyes downward. They began walking once again, this time with her leading him towards the center of the Plaza. They soon neared Umate, and at the sight of the mountain peak, Y/N pointed.

"Look!" she said, pulling him towards the protruding rock. As they came towards it, she looked over to Obi-Wan. "You must have seen the peak before."

He stared at the tip of the mountain, deep in thought. The warm glow of the street lamps showed the contours and ridges on its surface. Every time Y/N saw it, she couldn't help but picture the vast surface which lay beneath the platform, all the way down to the planets surface.

Almost whispering, he answered, "Only in passing."

They each stood gazing at the peak, Obi-Wan spoke seemingly to himself, "The only uncovered surface."

Arms still linked, Y/N slowly inched her hand up without realizing what she was doing, softly gripping his arm. She felt Obi-Wan tense, and at the realization of what she was doing, she quickly dropped her hand, though did not drop her arm from his completely. Neither said a word, and Y/N feared she had shattered their bubble. Now you've done it.

As she kicked herself, Obi-Wan looked past the peak and towards a vendor. He turned to her, and if Y/N hadn't known better, she'd think he looked nervous.

"Y/N?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes?" she said, a bit surprised and wondering if he was going to say he had to leave, that she had shown him enough.

On the contrary, his eyes looked back towards the vendor. "I have to admit something."

Intrigued, her confused expression turned into a smile. "What?"

"I've never had a popsicle, and I was wondering if we could-"

Before he could finish, Y/N grinned and began pulling him in the direction of the vendor. Obi-Wan began to laugh, making her chuckle along with him.

"This is the kind of initiative I like to see!" she joked, leading them to stand in line.

"My masters going to kill me." His tone was light hearted enough, though Y/N got the sense he wasn't entirely joking. However, in the moment, he seemed receptive, so she allowed herself to ask him a question.

"You master?"

His gaze met hers before she glanced at his braid which was now thrown behind his shoulder. She longed to run her hands down it and ask him why all young Jedi had one.

"Yes, all Padawans are paired with a Master until they become Knights," he explained, eyes dancing across her face.

"Padawan, knight," she repeated, then laughed to herself, "you're making me realize there are a million things I do not know."

"I am sure you know more than me about many things," his voice was soft and tender as it was before in the taxi. She felt herself begin to melt.

She shook her head. "I don't think so," she paused, "At least not about many things."

"Seeing is not knowing," Obi-Wan commented, head turning to peer at his surroundings. "I am not yet a knight, and there are many things I have not come to learn."

"The we are the same, I am still a student myself," she retorted. Obi-Wan seemed to have been defeated, not saying anything further on the subject. In his silence, she wondered how a Jedi could never think she, a simple student at the university, could possibly know more than him about anything. In comparison, she had been almost nowhere, seen almost nothing. One of the only things she had an upper hand on was knowing how much rent cost in Coruscant, or possibly what a good deal on a ship was due to her childhood spent among the shipyards.

They had now moved to the front of the line, the vendor asking what flavors they'd like. Obi-Wan looked to her, unable to answer. Y/N ordered for them each, paying before Obi-Wan had the chance.

"My treat this time," she said to him with a small smile. He looked at her thankfully, taking his popsicle.

As they began eating, Y/N lead them to a bench. Their arms came a part as they sat, making her sigh. She hoped Obi-Wan had taken it for contentment, rather than disappointment.

"So," she said between licks, "Is this not the best night of your life?"

Obi-Wan chuckled. I did that, she thought.

"Its in the running." His smile had not ceased, much to Y/N's delight.

They ate their popsicles in mostly silence, with Y/N pointing to a few other shops, telling Obi-Wan about what was inside. A bit of Obi-Wan's began to run down his hand, making each of them laugh. For a moment it felt as though they were both normal people, both simply club-goers who happened to cross paths. After they both had finished, Y/N smiled at him, then nodded to the waste basket a ways away.

"Think you can make it in?" She asked, head cocked. Even though she didn't know squat about the force, she figured making a stick into a waist basket was likely child's play to him.

He gave her a devilish look, and smiling, placed a hand over his eyes. Then, he threw the stick, which expertly landed in the center of the basket. Removing his hand, he grinned.

"Lucky shot," she challenged, holding out her stick for him to take. He did so happily, doing the same thing again and wielding the same result.

Rolling her eyes at him, Y/N decided to be bold. "Does your master usually send you out alone?"

"It is unusual, though it depends on the mission. Searching for a criminal, especially without a set location, can be done alone."

The freeness to which he answered the question gave Y/N the hope that she may have the opportunity to ask more about him, though she did not want to overdo it.

"My life must seem boring in comparison." She retreated inwards for a moment, all too aware of how he might see her, as just some random student.

"I long for boredom," he said, not seeming to be joking. Y/N gave him an odd look, making him smile. "Tell me about the university. What is it like?"

She felt her face heat at the thought of him caring about her life, what she did. How could she make anything interesting to him? Even to her it was often dull.

"It was quite scary at first, leaving home and coming to a place like this," she paused, thinking his question over, "But it's interesting, learning about all the different star systems, the politics, how the Republic is structured. It all felt so little at home, even with all the travelers that would come in and out of the ports. Now it's as if I'm in the thick of everything all at once. I could spend hours in the University archives, reading about all these little planets and moons that I didn't even know existed."

Lost in her rambling, she did not catch the twitch in Obi-Wan's hand, nor the fascination on his face.

"You'd love the archives at the Temple," he said, turning away to look at the Plaza. Y/N kept her eyes on his profile, which she wanted to keep in her memory as long as she could.

"I can only imagine," she said with a soft breath, "You could never get me to leave."

He looked back to her. "I wish I could bring you there, in repayment for tonight."

She smirked, biting her lip before she could stop herself. Obi-Wan stayed where he was, head now angled towards hers.

"No, your company is enough," she replied sweetly, the urge to reach out her hand and touch his shoulder almost too much to resist.

“I have always appreciated the city for its beauty, for the energy which permeates its every corner. Yet, I have never seen it in this light.”

Obi-Wan sighed, eyes softening. Under the lights of the Plaza, they look dazzlingly blue, reminding her of the ocean back home. After an entire night of stopping herself from saying something foolish, Y/N gave in fully, throwing all caution and embressment to the wind.

"Your eyes," she whispered, forgetting about the people passing by and the chatter of their voices, "they're just like the oceans on Corellia. Clear, like aquamarine."

Obi-Wan breathed in sharply, staring at her with a clipped intensity, as if he was holding himself back. His robes, loose around his chest, billowed as his shoulders relaxed, revealing a sliver of his golden skin. Obi-Wan did not speak, eyes darting across her face. Slowly and with great care, Y/N lifted her hand and placed it on his shoulder as she had wanted to before. It inched towards the hood of his robe, all the while Obi-Wan allowed her to do so, making no move to stop it. Her nerves went wild, shooting bursts of warmth all through her, up her arms and down her spine. With a final press into the rough texture of his robes, she reached up towards his face, brushing his cheek with the backs of her fingers. Obi-Wan shuttered, so slightly that Y/N would have missed it if she hadn't have been fully taking him in, absorbed in his presence.

Breaking her from her trance, Obi-Wan reached for her hand, taking it in his. He brought it down to his chest, cradling it softly.

"Y/N..." he began, rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand.

"I know," she said, not waiting for him to finish.

He sighed deeply, dropping his head and looking at her hand within his, still moving his thumb back and forth. His expression was blank, though a crease formed between his brows. Just like before, she thought.

While much of Obi-Wan was still a mystery, she knew he was overthinking every step he had made that night, her hand in his, arms linked, the fast beating of their hearts. She longed to stop his train of thought, to tell him that it was all okay, that this was far from bad. Out of pure instinct and selfish desire, she leaned down to catch his eyes. Below his face, she stared up at him, who for the first time that night appeared entirely unsure of himself. While he had seemed weary before, never was he so lost, completely out of his element. His inner turmoil played out within his eyes, though as she looked into them, the more he seemed to bend. She glanced at his lips, which were slightly parted, sucking in a breath as she slowly moved forward. Giving him time to pull away, to jump back and send her off, she placed the hand that was not in his on his opposite shoulder. With Obi-Wan's head still tilted forward, their lips softly met.

Her heart fluttered even though neither of them moved. The touch of his lips against hers was impossibly delicate, as if it was the first time she had ever kissed someone. She feared that deepening the kiss or moving an inch would scare him away, but was still content with its simplicity. Obi-Wan released her hand, moving to cup her cheek. Smiling into the kiss, she took as an innovation to go further. She opened her mouth, pressing harder into him. He responded slowly, yet did not pull away. Rather, he leaned in as well, allowing her to carefully run her tongue along his lower lip. Sighing deeply, he moved away, though not far. Y/N could feel his warm breath upon her, and she smiled sheepishly.

Their eyes met, and Obi-Wan began to stroke her face with his thumb as he had done with her hand. She fisted the robes which lay across his shoulder, body moving towards his.

The guilt then came upon her, flooding her with a unique shame. She looked into his eyes and spoke softly, "I'm sorry, I-" she faltered. Obi-Wan's expression changed to that of sadness, or perhaps pity.

"It is my fault," his voice was thin, as if it were spread taut. Y/N placed both her hands on his face, letting her head fall against his chest. For a moment Obi-Wan did nothing but keep his hand where it was on her cheek, though soon brought her face back up to at his. "There is a code," he whispered, "It is my duty to keep to it. I should not have allowed myself such an indulgence."

All this time Y/N had thought he was indulging her, and his admission causing a pang within her heart. Her hands dropped from his face.

"But I should not have done that," she said with full sincerity.

He smiled sadly, studying her face which was still in his hands. He brushed the backs of his fingers across it again.

"I have never," he paused, sighing to himself, "You are lovely, Y/N, and you have given me a great gift,” he stopped, pressing his lips together tightly as if to keep himself from speaking further. With another shaky exhale, he dropped his eyes from hers.

"I have never met anyone like you," she said, hoping he knew what she meant. It was not that she had never met a Jedi. No, she had simply never met a man, or person like himself.

"Likewise," he answered, chuckling dryly, looking back into her eyes.

They both sat for a moment looking at one another, not saying a word. Y/N hoped to prolong his departure as much as she could, feeling it coming upon them far faster than she would have liked. She studied the shape of his kind eyes, his strong chin, his lips which were now stern. The desire to memorize him was given into greedily, just as she had given into their kiss. It was almost gluttonous, the way she took in the last remaining drops of his presence. Don’t forget his eyes, don’t forget his words, don’t forget our kiss.

She nearly stopped herself from speaking, though reasoned that it was no use now. She had already shown him all he could know. "I wish it were different," her voice barely cracked, though she knew he noticed.

"As do I." He dropped his gaze again, and they each sat quietly for a while, how long Y/N could not tell. It could have been ten seconds or ten hours before he spoke again, "I must go," his voice trailed off.

Y/N moved away from him as he stood, already missing their closeness. He stared out across the Plaza for a long moment before turning back to her, who was watching him, thinking about his braid. “Let me see that you return safely,” he offered. Y/N shook her head.

“I have plenty of credits for a taxi,” she replied, still feeling a bit dazed from their kiss.

“Are you sure?” He asked, seeming quite concerned. If she wasn’t so forlorn, she would have laughed.

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m used to getting home at night.”

Looking somewhat disappointed in her stubbornness, Obi-Wan leaned down and kissed her temple, holding his lips there a for a moment longer than she had expected.

Half to herself, Y/N spoke out into the night at no one in particular, “I’ll never see you again, will I?”

Again, Obi-Wan smiled down at her. “Perhaps one day.”

Then, Obi-Wan walked away into the crowd. Y/N soon lost him amongst the rest of the people, a strange feeling stirring in her stomach. She didn’t expect to ever meet anyone like him ever again, Jedi or not. Though, there was always the hope that one day, they may cross paths again.

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