#anakin banter

[yourneighborhoodporg]

Hello! Could I request an obi wan x reader x anakin fic where the reader is a force sensitive Jedi? They have to go undercover for a mission and ani and obi are awestruck/distracted by reader in flattering clothes (that aren’t Jedi robes) and it makes them both realize their feelings :) feel free to make it a lemon if you want

Little Red Dress

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader x Anakin Skywalker

Warnings: Jealousy, Reader in Alluring Clothing, Brothel Setting, Some Life-Threatening Danger, Light Violence, Creepy(ish) Fella, Soft Smut (Minors DNI), all characters are over 18, Anakin Threatening Murder TM (why am I even surprised 😂), light banter, fluff, alcohol is around, boys being worried, HEAVY FLIRTING.

Song Inspo: Red Dress — MAGIC!

A/n: This took me way too long to get to lol 💀 Absolutely love this request idea which made it so fun to write. Wasn’t sure which gender you wanted for the reader so I made them female-identifying. This is my first request and short (lol) fic so please let me know your thoughts! Hope you enjoy :)

Words: 8.1k

She was built like a dream — Joseph Heller

Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker were… uncomfortable.

Not because Master Yoda himself had tasked the three of you with this urgent mission to the Outer Rim. Nor was it due to the cloudy, dark, and incessantly rainy atmosphere that was Morlana One’s Leisure Zone— its backstreets dotted by the occasional lifeless streetlight that just barely reflected off the puddles below, paving the two Jedi a glimmering path toward the local brothel.

No. It wasn’t any of that at all.

Instead, they felt a foreign existence within their own bodies, with each nearing step toward the club’s shadowy entrance, on account of the perplexing, and frankly alien, wears that sheened their limbs.

Of course, they never had any styling choice in the matter. Not for an assignment like this, where the elimination of Jedi symbols was expected.

Because this was a mission that required a gentler, more covert hand.

Because this was a mission that had you all undercover.

Nearly 72 hours ago, unknown assailants had broken into one of the Jedi Temple’s artifact rooms. From the emergency cache, they’d stolen seven Kyber crystals, which were always held at the ready in case a Jedi needed a temporary saber after damaging or misplacing their own.

A facility Anakin took advantage of too many times to count.

But, on this occasion, the Order could only count themselves lucky that The Chosen One had again somehow lost his lightsaber during a short mission to the Coruscant Underworld, requiring him to report to that very same artifacts chamber for a replacement before he could continue his search down into the planet’s murky depths. By chance, the chestnut-haired Jedi had arrived just in time to witness that the usually locked, ornate wooden door was notably ajar. And, with further investigation, that the krystals’ storage chest had been ransacked.

With Council Member Master Kenobi assigned to the inquiry, he quickly learned from a few trustworthy sources, including his old friend Dex, that the crystals were flown off-world to be sold at auction. To a seedy establishment in the Morlani System, no less. All with an undetectability and swiftness that duped not only the inter-District and planetary departure security systems, but the Jedi Temple’s once-thought-impregnable apparatus as well.

Evidently, Master Yoda had found that this operation met a sophistication not often seen among the ranks of disparate pirates or common thieves. It was why, after Kenobi came to him with this information, the Grand Master decided that the bearded man and Jedi Knight who discovered the robbery would be assigned to retrieve these precious artifacts. Placing an emphasis on the need to arrive undercover, lest this sordid enterprise catch wind of a group of creeping, saber-wielding Jedi.

They just couldn’t risk it.

Any action like that would certainly force this gang to race underground once again, crystals in tow, before the Jedi had a chance to recover them.

So, the Council supplied Obi-Wan and Anakin with clothes of the region’s elite, aiming to disguise them both as potential buyers.

Kenobi, a black dress uniform with gold, reflective embellishments suffocating his suit jacket while fueling his growing desire to remain hidden within the shadows as it converted his torso into a glinting beacon under the passing lights. And Skywalker, a simpler, but equally sophisticated gray suit atop a pearly white button-down that screamed conformity louder than Anakin could voice his displeasure.

Still, leaving the crystals’ fate up to whether this gang would accept Republic Credits was a game of pure chance. That, and the notion of buying back stolen, sacred property was never the Jedi way.

That’s where you came in.

A Jedi whose Force-sensitivity was so saturated, that you had the ability to viscerally sense Kyber crystals from parsecs away. And a talent that, in Master Yoda’s opinion, made you the perfect addition to the team.

Well, that and the open secret that the three of you had long ago become an unofficial squadron already. Considering the countless missions you’ve traipsed through together for most of your Jedi, and even Padawan, years, it was a wonder that Master Yoda felt the need to specifically mention your name either way. Even on missions in which the rag-tag trio were slingshotted to opposite poles of the galaxy, you’d always found a way back to each other.

That, or the Force itself had a dire motivation to keep those momentary separations brief.

Perhaps that’s why the two men, in addition to their clothing-related distractions, had sparking nerves heightened by another, salient factor.

That you weren’t by their side.

Given your skill set, it was clear from the beginning your cover needed to be quite different from theirs. So, twenty hours before the auction was set to start, while Obi-Wan and Anakin prepared their disguises, you slipped out. Leaving for the brothel on your own since you all agreed that the only way to secure your cover as an establishment employee was by actually applying to become one.

It was the only surefire way to explore the back rooms without tipping the sellers off. The only option the three of you had to find the crystals’ exact location. And to ensure that when chaos did reign, the artifacts wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.

Still, neither man particularly enjoyed this arrangement.

“You remembered to bring it, correct?” Obi-Wan voiced, glancing at Anakin’s pensively taught brows beside him as the brothel’s neon purple sign gently flickered into view, encouraging him to once again tug at his neckline’s taught clasp around his throat.

“Of course!” The younger Jedi acknowledged. “I was the one telling her that she should’ve had it in the first place.”

In spite of the underlying weariness still thrumming at his chest, Kenobi couldn’t help but raise an amused brow at his former Padawan.

“You? Lecturing Y/n about leaving her lightsaber behind? I seem to recall that it was your inability to keep track of your own that landed us in this predicament in the first place.”

Anakin scoffed, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And I seem to remember Master Nu saying that the raid on the artifacts room wouldn’t have been discovered for weeks if it weren’t for me.”

Still, the chestnut-haired Jedi sighed, yanking down the tails of his gray suit jacket that just barely fit his longer form while he continued.

“Besides, it was no mistake. She didn’t take her lightsaber intentionally.”

Kenobi shook his head knowingly. Partly due to his former Padawan’s somewhat warped perspective of the situation, but mostly because he too was not completely on board with the notion of you being undercover and completely unarmed. Though, no matter how much he desired to do so, Obi-Wan had trouble denying that, like always, your reasoning stood sound.

A reminder that subconsciously made his heart flutter.

“You know, Anakin, that she couldn’t have feasibly hidden it away. It’s safer for her that we hold onto it for now. She will have it when she needs it.”

And that’s why, no matter his outward assurances, Kenobi seemed to have an inability to take his own advice. Perhaps too it was Anakin’s own anxieties that were infecting the Force.

But no leakage from his signature could truly reflect the hate Skywalker felt for this plan. He had shot down its premise the whole journey here, but in the end, it was no use. Anakin understood that once you put your mind to something, especially in the name of protecting the community you held so dear, there was nothing anyone in the Galaxy could do to stand in your way.

And he really did treasure you for that.

“I know,” Skywalker grumbled, pivoting to avoid a stumbling Bith with a curved bottle in hand, brown liquid sloshing out to land just beside his black dress shoe as he walked by. “But I still don’t like it.”

Evidently, no matter their confidence in your ability to take care of yourself, the two men remained deeply troubled by the fact that you were still far enough away as to be immune from their protection.

But that would soon change.

“Alright,” Kenobi slowed just beside the establishment’s greasy, revolving door to address the younger man as they neared their arrival.

“We will need to remain in one place so that Y/n can find us. She needs to know where we are at all times to deliver the signal. The zone’s blueprints suggest that the center bar will have the best vantage point. So that’s where we’ll go. Oh—“

Obi-Wan lifted a warning brow at the younger man.

“And don’t stray.”

Anakin rolled his eyes, lips pursing in an attempt to keep his face neutral.

“I don’t stray, Master.”

—

If you had your portable chronometer on your person, you would’ve checked it by now.

About fifteen minutes, you’d been waiting a handful of meters from the brothel’s storage room, disguised by the far corner tables nestled within the establishment’s shadowy edges. Marking it the perfect locale for distant observers of the night’s entertainment— or idly spying Jedi. Fifteen minutes since Krissa, a now fellow employee, shuffled into that very same room to collect a few crates of Fizzbrew for the opening bar. Nearly twenty hours after you’d secured employment as what the owner lovingly called a “Friendly Dancer.”

Luckily, it was during that same interview that you’d caught the colorful, Force-illuminated trail, leading your attuned senses to this secured back room, like a bloodhound to its prey.

Or a Jedi to her Kyber crystals.

Yet, despite your carefully chosen cover, both assumed identity and dark corner camouflage, you still had a nagging feeling that your specially selected ‘employee uniform’ wasn’t doing you any furtive favors.

Besides the strikingly crimson, skin-gripping short dress that clad your hips, the black, shimmering fishnet stockings and translucent platform heels were sure to draw some unwanted attention during a time in which invisibility was your best friend.

But you had no choice. If you had any hope of maintaining your cover and completing your mission, you had to work with what you were given.

So, for now, one of these rusted-over, ash stools would need to serve their purpose— concealing you from the trickling in throng’s broad perspectives as you kept a peripheral lock on that steel door’s sturdy frame. One by one, hungry bidders with puffy, expensive coats and sparkling wears thickened the atmosphere, all while you hoped Krissa would quicken her exit via the locked door so that you could slip in.

It was moments like these that you’d wished you had your lightsaber. At least then, you could’ve cut through the heavy, metal barrier all on your own.

But, alas, this was a mission of stealth. And you’d be damned to put either Obi-Wan or Anakin in danger because of your impatience.

Causing you to, once more, question their absence.

“Boys, boys. Where are you boys…” you hummed lowly to yourself.

Glancing toward the billowing crowd, you grew remiss at their absence. It was easy to recall how both Jedi were particularly against your decision to immerse yourself into this environment, alone and unarmed. So much so, that you assumed they would’ve arrived by now. An observation that forced you to consider how this mission was sure to sour quick were you required to act without backup.

You shook that thought out of your mind almost as immediately as it arrived.

Obi-Wan and Anakin would always appear when you needed them most.

And you adored them for that.

That, among the litany of elements that drew you into their lives in the first place.

Your first mission together was but a sapling in the times you were to share. Memories, little moments, and fleeting glances recently coalesced into the singular realization that you’d fallen in love with two of the most powerful Jedi the Galaxy has to offer.

But they were just that. Jedi.

And so were you.

So no matter your unquestionable feelings for the men, there was nothing you could do. Putting aside that you doubted any emotional reciprocation, you were sure too that they’d never break the Jedi code for you.

And that left you to again drag yourself back from those innermost thoughts to focus on the situation at hand. Specifically, your conclusion that any dearth left in Obi-Wan and Anakin’s wake would mean nothing of consequence if you couldn’t get into that storage room.

Luckily, there was no need to wait much longer.

Krissa shoved open the door, using her back to thrust it the rest of the way with a crate of clinking, dark green bottles swirling in her arms. Fluttering lilac dress flowing by her legs as her eyes landed on your surveilling form.

Kriff.

“Hey!” She scream whispered, brows stitched in reprimand while she leaned toward you. “You’re gonna get fired before you’ve even had a chance to work if you keep hiding from paying customers.”

You smiled sheepishly, playing into her assumption as you ‘stumbled’ to your feet.

“I’m so sorry,” you mouthed, ambling toward the older woman while lifting a hand to ripple through the force floating by her eyes.

You spoke lowly.

“You want me to help you bring out those crates.”

“I want you to help me bring out these crates,” she parroted in a glazed-over daze, arm catching the steel door just before it shut to allow you entry.

You nodded to her thankfully, even though she had no choice in the matter, before pushing your way past the chilly aperture, entering the stuffy storage room while the door slammed shut behind you.

Speedily, you surveyed the cramped compartment, stacked and spread to the ceiling with a strange concoction of alcohol-filled crates, charcoal cargo containers, and draped artifacts that evinced the basement of a museum far more than a brothel’s back room.

But you didn’t really give it a second thought. If you didn’t want to get caught, then there was no time to ponder aesthetics.

Quickly, as your eyes fluttered closed, you allowed the Force to thicken your blood, treating your body and mind like a living, breathing compass in its guide to connect you with your True North—

The seven missing Kyber crystals.

With vision consumed by blackness, you dodged each precariously placed box and every outstretched figurine that threatened to obstruct your path as your senses drew you a detailed map toward the back wall. Almost like a pulsing beacon, you felt the heat of your connection to the sacred artifacts deepen, warming your more-than-usually exposed skin. Intensifying with each, deliberate step. Until it reached a fiery blaze so extravagant that one stride further would’ve certainly lit you alight.

You opened your eyes.

“Hey!” A deep voice called from behind you, triggering your heels to spin around toward the sudden sound, and away from the loosely sealed cargo container whose subtle, yet familiar, blue shine confirmed your senses.

Swiftly, you absorbed the older man’s ruffly peppered beard and chilled brown eyes as his head poked past the slightly ajar steel door, barely masked snarl contorting his lips.

“I don’t pay you to ogle the merchandise! Get out there and mingle,” he continued, jutting a thumb to the club’s main room to his rear.

You leapt to your feet, making a mental note of the crystals’ location while scurrying toward the owner who seemed to have somehow grown at least one more gray hair since your interview with him.

“Sorry, sir,” you mumbled, twisting to get by his form against the door and entering onto the main floor before turning back toward him. “Won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” he huffed, swiveling to catch the shutting door with his foot before leaning down to retrieve something from behind it.

Still, his muffled voice echoed beyond the subsequent shuffling.

“You’re assisting tonight, and I want high bids. So get out there and make them like you.”

You nodded complacently, already prepared to whip around and follow his orders until the older gentleman reemerged with another case of green bottles cradled under his arm.

“And here,” he shoved the crate, obliging you to catch it somewhat unexpectedly with opened palms.

“Take this to the bar.”

—

“I don’t like this…” Anakin droned during his casual stroll toward Obi-Wan’s side, a glass of orange fizzy liquid held inconspicuously before his lips.

Kenobi was leaning against the bar, his cup of whatever was on tap cradled between his fingers yet clearly untouched. Instead, the subtly troubled Jedi’s attentive eyes continued their periodic scan of the barely lit brothel. Flitting past the pockets of gold-illuminated tabled alcoves and dark blue paneling, his eyes weaved through the voluminous throng. One that featured intimately quiet mumblings among extravagantly suited clientele and gorgeously draped employees.

It wasn’t hard for him to surmise the highest paying customers from the number of brothel workers who’d hang from their arms, clearly on the job.

Smiling at each of their glances. Laughing at every joke…

Kenobi wasn’t daft.

He clearly understood the expectations a club like this had for its staff. At the least, for those who mingled with the bidders before the show. He’d only hoped that with whatever position you’d acquired for your cover at this establishment, it wasn’t pressing you to do much of the same.

And no matter how illogical it sounded in his mind, he still didn’t want to see that.

Moreover, it seemed to be a thought that equally disturbed Anakin, as his gentle thrums of anxious musing stained the Force, gradually amplifying since both Jedi had yet to locate you.

The younger Jedi had always been protective of you, Obi-Wan excused, unbeknownst that Skywalker was making much of the same defense. Though for the chestnut-haired Jedi, it was more the self-justification that he was a protective person in general. And that this was nothing more than only that.

Just Anakin being Anakin.

“I’m confident she’ll turn up soon, Anakin.”

The younger man expressly sighed, permitting a brief beat to pass as a spring of laughter ricocheted by his ears from a nearby dancer. Waiting for it to die down with bated breath before angling to respond.

“What if she didn’t get the job? She might be trying to find a different way in right now.”

Obi-Wan had no need for reaching out to the Force in order to confidently answer that inquiry.

“She succeeded. Trust me, I’d know otherwise.” He hummed, raising his glass to just barely grace his lips, but never daring to take a sip and weaken his awareness. “However, should they not show soon, I am considering they may have been apprehended.”

Similarly, Anakin vehemently shook his head. He even permitted a wry chuckle to escape past those formerly parched lips before confidently responding to the Jedi Master’s statement.

“No way. If Y/n got caught, she’d send us a signal the second she felt us near.”

Skywalker’s confident air faltered.

“Well,” he shrugged nervously. “Assuming she’s not injured.”

Obi-Wan shot his former Padawan a disapproving glare.

Until his attention was suddenly grasped by a warm, comforting hand sliding across his shoulder.

“Is this what you boys do when I’m not around? Theorize about my potential failings?”

The two men spun toward you, catching the playful smirk consuming your features before their eyes were tugged down like an anchor to trail your stunningly sheathed body, almost as if it was the first time they’d ever laid eyes upon you.

It would be an understatement to state that absorbing this captivating sight had coerced their jaws into forgetting their primary function.

The low-cut style of your short, curving red dress. The fishnet stockings that stretched down your thighs and softly clasped your high-heeled feet. The sparkling, green gemmed earrings that perfectly brought out your plump, red lipstick and long lashes. And, most noticeably, your loose, flowing hair that they’d only ever seen tied back for battle, now resting lushly across your bare shoulders like a still-life statue.

It wasn’t a side of you either men had the pleasure of observing before. And, if given the chance, they’d challenge whichever entity had so long sealed this wonderful sight from their burning eyes to a duel.

One that such an unjust creature was sure to regret.

It was a kind of fairy tale notion that both men pondered instantly once they felt a bubbling heat swarm their countenance when faced by your visual power.

So much so, that Anakin couldn’t help but break the brief lull as his suddenly dried mouth reached down his throat for an audible, and undoubtedly embarrassing, cough as he scratched his nose to try to hide himself.

Obi-Wan wasn’t coping much better. The Master Negotiator had lost all concept of Basic, its vocabulary, grammar, and everything in between as his mind was only filled with your enticing image, your pleasantly exposed skin, and the touch of your fingers to his body.

Until it was too soon gone.

Your hand fell thoughtlessly to your side, head cocking with lifted brows before speaking.

“You can close your mouths. It was just a joke.”

But it was Kenobi who first gathered the confidence to respond.

“Um, you look—“

“Lemme guess. Ravishing? The night’s main treat?” You relayed sarcastically while heaving down a large crate of clinking bottles atop the bar, one that both men only just now noticed before you whipped back toward the still stunned Jedi, drawing their gaze center.

“I’ll have it known that the distance between the storage room and the bar is a mere fifteen-second walk and I’ve already heard it all—“

“…like an angel,” Anakin muttered, not even himself realizing that he’d said that aloud.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly as you felt your heart skip a beat, sending an unexpected tingle to the root of your gut before sheepishly smiling at the deepening flush of the chestnut-haired man.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, tensely eyed his former Padawan.

“Okay, that one’s new,” you admitted, gaze trailing away to conceal your unpreparedness for such an unexpectedly sweet comment.

Ironically, it was at that moment that your wandering stare settling beyond Anakin’s shoulder abruptly caught a familiar, peppered beard. Accompanied by terse, beady eyes that scowled at you from a far wall with the intensity of a lodestar.

You had a decision to make.

But, really, was there a choice at all?

Obi-Wan would catch on, you thought.

Though, no matter how well Kenobi did understand the requirements of your cover, he still certainly wasn’t expecting you to, in a millisecond, swiftly stride toward his bewildered form to wrap your warm arms around his neck.

Immediately, despite the quickening of his thrumming heart latching onto his Adam’s apple, Obi-Wan raised his usually firm hands to gently clasp at your forearms, being sure to send you a questioning glance as he smoothly played along.

But under all that, and although he was still unsure why, deep down Kenobi secretly hoped that such a quizzical gesture hadn’t encouraged you to subsequently pull away. For some reason, he despised the thought of influencing you to forgo remaining this close to him.

So close, that he could feel the tickle of your breath across his chin.

Thankfully, though, his innermost prayer seemed to have been answered.

“Sorry,” you whispered, conveying an outwardly flirting expression of perked lips and a tilted head.

There were very few people in the Galaxy capable of reading the subtle apologetic shine of your eyes that deeply stared into his. An invisible utterance that remained firm while you briefly freed one hand to beckon over a confounded, and secretly peeved, Anakin who stood just behind his former Master, before you grasped his loose hand and tugged him forward with a terribly fake laugh.

Soon, you rested the younger Jedi’s arm on your lower back, securing its nervously flaccid form around your waist while Skywalker’s face transformed into a brand new shade of crimson once he discovered the dress’s open back.

A clearly readable reaction that deepened Kenobi’s hesitation with his former Padawan’s proximity to you. And while his mind struggled to connect the dots on why he continued to experience these strange bouts of discomfort, too distracted to truly pin down these sensations, Kenobi still felt fueled by Anakin’s expression to nudge you a little closer into his own chest.

If that was even possible.

Paying no mind to the sudden action, you addressed both men, giving a particular glance to Anakin who seemed to be the most caught off-guard of the two of them.

“The brothel’s owner made it very clear that if I don’t ’mingle’ with the customers, trouble will come my way.”

And that made the former slave’s blood boil.

“I’ll kill him.”

“No, you won’t,” you punctuated, temporarily removing your other arm from Obi-Wan to privately rest on Anakin’s balmy cheeks, caressing them down to draw his eyes to your level as he too struggled to fight off the festering heart attack that threatened to crack his rib, and deepened the sudden feeling of emptiness in Kenobi’s chest. “Because we have one mission here, and it’s to retrieve those stolen crystals. And I’m not losing my chance to snatch them away due to your needless protectiveness. I’m quite capable on my own.”

“What do you mean?” Kenobi inquired, taking this opportunity to regain some realm of confidence before snaking his arms around your waist and tugging you toward him with a roughness that would easily read as greedy to anyone who happened to be looking that way.

Still, the unexpected suddenness of his movement set the nerves in your face on fire. No matter, you played into the act, falling into his chest with fingers gripping onto the lapels of his oddly sparkly jacket.

“Um,” you swallowed, regathering your thoughts with a blink. “I’m assisting tonight. Meaning that I’ll be showcasing each item while they’re bid upon.”

You hummed to yourself while considering this new stroke of luck. A sudden vibration against Obi-Wan’s chest that you hadn’t realized sent a fresh, nervous chill down his arms as he held your mystifying figure, encouraging subtly wandering eyes to drink in the sight once more while his unsteady heart began to churn his innermost thoughts.

It was in that same moment that Anakin first caught onto his former Master’s charade, having finally glimpsed an equal measure of voraciousness within his distracted, blue orbs. Something that stoked Anakin’s frustration that began anew with each moment Kenobi drew you closer to himself.

“I say we don’t waste the credits,” you commented, refocusing both Jedi’s attention. “The minute I have the crystals in hand, I’ll send you a signal, and we’ll dash out of here.”

Obi-Wan leaned into you, forehead mere centimeters from yours as a spoke lowly. And for some reason, you thought, with noticeably erratic breath.

“That’s extremely risky.”

“Well, you have my lightsaber. Don’t you?” You challenged with a lift of your lips.

Suddenly, a trail of warm fingers raked up into your hair, sending quite an unexpected chill down your back once they clutched around a bunch and somewhat needily rotated your head toward Anakin’s expectant face. Yanking your body more forcefully before soon feeling his strong arm catch your side.

“I have it,” he spoke lowly.

And in spite of how desperately he tried to keep his eyes connected with yours, he couldn’t help that split second in which they sparsely flitted toward your perfectly tinted lips.

An action you apparently missed for your focus on the mission at hand.

But a gesture that contorted Obi-Wan’s lips into a perpetual frown as his mind caught up with his frothing feelings.

“Good,” you expressed. “Then I’ll have it when it’s needed.”

While your eyes remained focused and thoughtful, half a mind on playing up your cover with the other half on those crystals, Anakin had trouble keeping his eyes from once more wandering downwards.

The feel of your red-draped body against his, the closeness of your bared upper chest and noticeable cleavage, the sparkle of your eyes that comparably made your bright earrings look like clumps of coal.

Though not fully, Anakin was beginning to understand what was going on in his chest to draw his signature into such a volatile temper. Mostly because he couldn’t help himself when one hand released from your soft hair to trail down your exposed back, the other palm brushing upwards from your flank to meet the other side as he briefly traced the outline of your shoulder blades.

All of which sent a lightning bolt of cold heat right up to your head and down toward your sensitively tingling toes before he inched you toward him with the press of his fingertips while he whispered.

“Obi-Wan is right. I don’t think we should take the risk. But just in case you need it…”

Slowly, he retrieved a hand, raking it over your shoulder and feeling every inch of your arm while his mind cleared. The chestnut-haired man’s swelling eyes traced the enticing experience until he reached your hand. And with feigned gravitas clouding his features, he carefully guided your hand beneath his suit jacket, dragging it just along his warm back until you felt a cold metal resting beside his tailbone.

“…you know where it is.”

What was happening?

That was the main question you were asking yourself.

Were both Obi-Wan and Anakin just really amazing actors when the moment required it? You’d certainly never seen such a talent from either of them before. Yet the sudden naturalness, the near familiarity with which each Jedi pulled and held you close? The intimate touches and long glances while this secret meeting proceeded?

You weren’t sure what changed between twenty hours ago and now. Yet, in your core, you knew a part of your brain didn’t want it to stop.

No.

You were a Jedi. You were all Jedi. Committed to a code.

You must’ve been reading this wrong. Feelings that you knew you’d long held for the men had once again clouded your judgment.

Meanwhile, the growing tension between the two Jedi had heightened to a noticeable degree. But with your mind focused seemingly on other matters, it was only just to each other.

“You? Not wanting to be reckless?” You stated, attempting to suffocate your rushing nerves with a confident smirk. “Are you sure I’m speaking with Anakin Skywalker or do we have an imposter in our midsts?” You chuckled. “Oh, and agreeing with Obi-Wan?” You added, raising a brow.

This time, it was Master Kenobi who felt a fire erupt through his veins while his thoughts solidified.

It was you.

You who were making him feel such a way.

Ever and always.

On every mission and in each universal moment, it was you who made the Jedi Master take pause as his heart skipped a beat in your presence.

Master Kenobi was even more firm in this belief: that he was quite finished with watching Anakin cradle you in his arms for any longer. That, and the growing desire fueled by this new angle permitting Obi-Wan to graze over your open back’s supple skin with his eyes, drained him of all his decades-long self-control in an instant.

He needed to do something about that

Reaching a warm hand to the closest corner of your waistline, and with a little nudge from the Force on the other side, Obi-Wan tugged you right into his arms.

You felt the imperceptible, tiny scratches of his sequined suit jacket and the heat barely underneath sprawl across your back while his palms meandered up your sides and down each arm, soon folding them across you as he enveloped you against himself.

This time, you truly couldn’t help the light, crimson blush that bloomed across your cheeks. Especially when Kenobi chose this opportune time to gradually lean into your shoulder, chin dipping so that his lips hung mere centimeters from your attentive ear before whispering a warning with a tone warmer than you were used to hearing from the Master Negotiator.

Especially in the middle of a mission.

“You should listen to him.”

Still, despite feeling the ravenous desire to take a calming breath and smooth your hammering heartbeat, you held firm, responding to his inquiry with an overpowering confidence that usually settled any score when the three of you were having a disagreement.

At the same time, having just noticed the brothel owner’s decision to push off his far wall perch to approach, you decided to also strike a grin, raising a flirtatious brow over your shoulder at Obi-Wan’s unreadably dark eyes while you spoke, maintaining your cover.

“No. The plan stands. Trust me, there’s no need to worry.”

But, unexpectedly for you, witnessing your visually claimed figure in Obi-Wan’s arms barking out orders all while clad in that tiny red dress ignited a fierce burning passion in Anakin to challenge you back as he too decided to make his thoughts known.

Through his words and with his hands.

Taking one powerful stride to stand directly before your toes, the younger man just barely graced your bottom lip to seize your chin, lifting it upwards and twisting you to meet his wanting, blue gaze. Compelling your bright, widening eyes to wonder once more whether the lines between fiction and reality were beginning to blur.

Your breath hitched.

“Gentlemen!” The owner exclaimed, sliding next to Obi-Wan and Anakin to place a performative pat on both their shoulders. “I’m glad you’re enjoying one of our new hires, but I’m afraid that I’ll need to borrow her for the rest of the auction. We are about to begin.”

Wordlessly, both Jedi released their respective grips on you, sharing between themselves an unamused glance above your head while you ambled toward the owner. Never breaking your own, painfully forged smile.

But that seemed to be enough to convince the quite older owner that all was set to begin, as he swiftly turned on his heel toward the brothel’s far podium, motioning for you to follow his trail.

You promptly obliged, yet not before sending one quick, yet quiet, last word with a twist of your head toward the Jedi who begrudgingly stayed behind with crossed arms or a clenched beard.

“Wait for my signal.”

—

“I’m not stupid, you know,” Anakin commented idling by Kenobi’s side.

The two men continued their observations of the auction since it began half an hour ago, their eyes rarely drifting away from the rather cramped, rickety stage while you traveled from side to side, displaying each item with deliciously attractive poise. Presently, you were exhibiting an old, handheld marble statue modeled after a female Twi’lek. And although other patrons regarded the item with interest, the two Jedi meant to be watching your back for any danger had their minds on other matters.

Anakin couldn’t keep his eyes off your sensually pacing legs, while Obi-Wan could barely remain still with your elegant, tightly wrapped hips moving to and fro.

“I hear 2,000 credits! 2,000 credits. Do I hear 2,100?”

Master Kenobi readjusted his shoulders somewhat uncomfortably. “I know. I don’t believe I’ve said otherwise.”

“Don’t play dumb. I know you want Y/n.”

The bearded Jedi whipped his head from the stage as he addressed the seemingly jealous, younger man. And for the first time in a very long time, Obi-Wan began to feel those same, envious emotions with equal strength, like he’d caught some psychic disease from the blue-eyed Jedi’s glance alone.

“2,100! Do I hear 2,200? 2,200 folks, for this ancient artifact of an unknown Ryloth civilization!”

“And?” He acknowledged nonchalantly, taking an assertive stance while he found comfort in the memory of you in his arms. “And what if I do?”

Anakin’s lips formed a thin line, the image of your parted, shocked lips when he caught your dressed figure perfuming his thoughts. “Then you wouldn’t be alone.”

“I’ve noticed,” Kenobi stated sarcastically before raising a rather annoyed brow.

“Going once! Going twice!”

“What are you gonna do?” Anakin mumbled.

Skywalker had to ask the question. Even though he’d already confirmed in his mind that no matter what, no matter if Master Kenobi felt the same, that he’d give you the chance of knowing that there was more than one.

Obi-Wan answered simply. “I’m planning on telling her.”

“Sold! To the fellow in the orange top hat on the right!”

Because through the older Jedi’s musings, Kenobi was arriving at a similar conclusion. That if you in any way felt the same, he’d at least give you a choice.

“I assume you’ll be doing the same?” He continued.

“Yes.” Anakin sighed, eyes returning to the stage just as you remerged with an old, raggedy yet sealed box held tightly in your hands. “And what if she can’t decide?”

Obi-Wan followed the young Jedi’s line of sight, subconsciously licking his lips as the fabric of your tight, red dress pulsed his blood and slackened his jaw.

“Then we do what we must…”

The bearded Jedi swallowed.

Hard.

“…we help her.”

A rallying spark flung through the Force, filling both Jedi’s senses as they were wrenched from the momentary, visual distraction that was your ravishingly dressed person.

There was no way to deny it. Your pointed expression? Your readied stance?

The signal had just been fired.

Reaching for their respective lightsabers hung inconspicuously at the belt, both Jedi swiftly whipped their weapons out into the open, igniting a collective blue glow that provided enough of a shockingly, eye-catching distraction for you to leap from the stage, box in hand, without much recourse.

Then came the blasters.

As if emerging like shadows from the establishment’s dark corners, a sporadic group of armed men dressed like well-to-do pirates began their determined assault. Coloring the air with orange beams while the crowd scattered, hurried screams and the groans of abruptly shuffling furniture echoing off the walls.

You bolted for the Jedi, triggering both to somersault toward you while they attempted to block any bolt that you nearly failed to dodge before landing at either flank. Thankfully, that provided the chance to fling a searching arm beneath Anakin’s suit jacket, grasping your saber from its warm habitat before yanking it out into the open to launch its green luminescence.

“Go!” Obi-Wan cried, deflecting another round of bolts from your rear while the two men encircled you like a living, breathing barrier.

“We’ll hold them off!” Anakin agreed, flinging a badly aimed bolt toward a now broken and sparking light fixture above before facing you. “Get back to the ship!”

You glanced at both men, making clear your uncertainty and reluctance through the Force as, even with your aid, the gentle perspires of their efforts became noticeable.

But it was their turn to stay firm.

“Now! We’ll be right behind you!” Obi-Wan strictly assured.

So, with the box of crystals secured tightly beneath one arm and your saber effectively defending against the coming onslaught with the other, you decided to, for once, follow the boys’ instructions as you bolted for the exit, and out the brothel’s door.

And, with their hearts already racing, both Jedi had to do their best not to focus on your distracting wears as they paved a path to race after you.

—

Leaping through the red and white Nu-class shuttle’s rear hatch the instant it opened wide enough to do so was enough to coerce out an instant sigh of relief as your feet landed on the metal floor, drawing you deeper into the bird’s belly. Naturally, after regaining some bearings in the familiarity of the ship, you felt secure enough to set the relatively sturdy box of Kyber crystals atop a nearby ledge before turning to assess the situation behind you.

You already sensed that Anakin and Obi-Wan had stuck close to your heels during the entire escape, sabers twirling with elegant control against any threatening phaser until you strayed far enough beyond the brothel’s preview to lose any potential tails. So you weren’t surprised to find both men maintaining a similarly brisk pace while speeding up the ramp seconds after your arrival. Sabers long ago clipped back at their sides with Obi-Wan leading the way, leaving Skywalker in charge of closing the now slowly rising hatch.

What you weren’t expecting, however, was that the overpowering determination emanating from the bearded Jedi’s face had not in the least bit lessened since he entered the craft. Quickly, yet smoothly, he shed his gaudy suit jacket, tossing it unceremoniously to the side as he subsisted his approach.

In fact, the slight narrowing of those blue eyes, an expression you’d only seen in the occasional sparring session, remained forwardly focused. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was charging right for you, an action itself that compelled you to perplexedly speak while his brown boots closed that ever-shrinking distance.

“What are you—“

Warm lips smashed against yours, moving hungrily yet delicately while Obi-Wan’s sturdy arms snaked around your waist to gently tug you into himself.

Your heart nearly stopped, and from the tingling, tiny explosions erupting at each and every nerve ending alone, you felt yourself fall into the momentum, arms raising with the certainty of a choreographed dance to cradle Obi-Wan’s head and run your fingers through his soft, auburn locks.

Whether consciously or not, his grip on you tightened, straining your breath before you had the unavoidable need to be even closer to him. You intensified the kiss, drawing his plump, reddened lips into slow and steady locks, only for them to release with the duration of a clap before you both deeply met each other again with needy swiftness.

It felt like hours, but it had been mere seconds since the instant his body met yours. Still, the two of you reluctantly pulled away from each other. Mostly to catch much-needed breaths from the pure, unadulterated shock of it all.

Master Kenobi held you still as your gaze graced over his flushed features, including that slightly tussled hair and darkened eyes that diverted from their usual bright sparkle. Especially when they flitted from your surprised orbs, to your plump lips, and back again.

But no matter this pleasing diversion, still, out of the corner of your eye, you were forced to notice Anakin— standing in the far corner in quiet observation, and chillingly reminding you of where you were and what important rules both you and his former Master had certainly just broken in his presence.

What made it all worse, though, was that for the life of you, you could not read the younger man’s expression. Apparently, he had just stood there, arms crossed once the shuttle door was secured and simply… watched? Impassively?

No, that couldn’t be right.

Then, he pushed off the wall.

Anakin’s arms fell to the side as he gradually approached you both, brows tightening into what looked like a slightly angrier cross that ran your brain into overdrive. You were still having trouble discerning his emotions through the Force, but could only make an educated guess that he was beyond frustrated that the two beings closest to him had just broken the Jedi Code.

And, also because, he didn’t seem to have any particular reaction to what Obi-Wan did, making you sadly doubt that he’d ever feel the same way you’d always felt for the chestnut-haired man and his former Master.

So, no matter how right it felt, how much you wanted it, you knew that it was time for some damage control.

“Obi-Wan…” you took a deep, shaky breath, nerves still firing at every end while your stare stood firmly on Obi-Wan’s wanting expression, Anakin nearing your side.

You loosely exhaled.

“Where did that—“

Hot moisture met your neck, Anakin’s wet lips attacking its side and extracting a startled gasp from your lungs as your eyes fluttered closed. Greedily, he cupped your throat to softy tug you toward him, draining your arms into a state of perpetual pliability from the pleasant heat filling your chest.

They slid, soon falling from Obi-Wan’s body entirely before you angled toward the younger Jedi and shakily twisted them around his shoulders for support. Another weak sigh escaped past your lips once you felt Anakin’s teeth graze across a sensitive spot as the weakening kisses continued, an action which only seemed to encourage the younger Jedi considering he returned to that spot with more fervor, sucking it dry until your jaw slackened.

Still, no matter how dazed your mind had become in this last minute of chaos, you just couldn’t believe this was happening.

It had to be a mistake, right? Was something else wrong?

Something must have happened.

Regathering your senses, you quickly pulled away from Anakin, feeling the resistance of your initial jerk snap Anakin from his equally influenced status as he quickly tried to give you space.

“Are you ok??” He asked rapidly, eyes seeping wide-eyed worry and flickers of guilt while Obi-Wan, who was initially calmly analyzing the show, too shifted to share a similarly concerned expression.

“Yes, of course,” you aired, still slightly out of breath as you stared confoundedly at the two men. “I’m fine Anakin, but what is going on? This is coming out of nowhere.” You shook your head. “Were the two of you drugged or something?”

“In a sense, I suppose we were,” Obi-Wan answered nonchalantly.

You raised a brow.

“Y/n,” Anakin uttered, drawing your eyes toward his. “Obi-Wan and I realized something back there during the mission. Something it looks like we both kinda knew for a while but didn’t really understand until now.”

Master Kenobi’s eyes raked across your figure once more while he spoke. “I saw you there, we saw you, truly, for the first time. And I lost my breath.”

You melted at his words.

“All I saw was pure beauty and you, and I couldn’t tell the difference,” Anakin spoke disjointedly, nearly making you giggle. “And I knew that seeing you like this, in this way, I couldn’t wait any longer. We couldn’t wait. We needed to tell you.”

“Tell me?” You asked breathily, preparing yourself for whatever was to come next.

“That we desire you,” Obi-Wan barely whispered, fluttering your stomach. “That you are more important to us than ancient statutes. And we determined that you must know so that you may decide if you wish it.”

You shuttered, worries of the Code fading into nothingness while the two men before you consumed your senses. “Decide?”

Anakin stared at you, a pleading glint in his eyes as he spoke gently.

“Which one of us you want back.”

Your still heavy breaths punctuated the otherwise quiet air. Characteristic of the thoughts rattling against your buzzed skull before a throaty mutter made its way past your teeth.

“I can’t…”

You watched while their faces deflated at your words.

“We understand, Y/n,” Obi-Wan spoke, a subtle sadness drooping his tone. “It’s quite alright—“

“No,” you corrected quickly. “No, I can’t decide.”

Anakin’s brows quirked at this, head tilting as curiosity subdued his brief listlessness.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

You sighed heavily, eyes drifting to the floor with an unaccustomed quiver. “I mean, I can’t decide because… because…”

You bit your lip.

“I want you both.”

Raising your head, you carefully observed the two men, bodies as still as statues while their swollen eyes held firmly on your figure. Anakin nurturing a steadily expanding, devious grin while he quietly flexed a fist, and Obi-Wan, faintly flicking his tongue across his top lip in an effort to carefully drink in your figure.

A pleasant chill ran down your spine.

“Is that alright?” You whispered.

Anakin chuckled incredulously, cueing Obi-Wan to respond to that inquiry.

“Darling,” he murmured, insatiable eyes sucking you barren as the nickname sent a new round of tingles down your legs. “That stretches far beyond ‘alright.’”

“How do you want us?” Anakin posed, tone nearing a growl.

Unfiltered, you spoke your mind.

“As close as possible.”

And the Jedi obliged.

________________________________________________________________

Should I do a part 2 at some point? Let me know :)

[jaguarys]

The best part of Palpatine and Anakin's dynamic is that Palpatine could plan for anything. And does. And yet, continually, he cannot plan for the absolute fucking stupidity Anakin has rocketing around in his brain at all hours. Sheev made him this way but it worked too well and now the level of rabidity is just too much.

[agoddamn]

when fanfic has the narration start talking shit about how mean and cold Mace Windu is and I'm waiting for the punchline that the narrator just fell for his resting bitchface

[izzieedraws]

I wish there were more moments (besides the clone wars series) of their close relationship. i can‘t keep rewatching deleted scenes to see them banter like siblings😭

[palfriendpatine66]

Saturday Friday Night Snippet

Aka proof that I’m *trying* to write the next chapter of Can’t Buy Me Love

“You’ve never been at sea?”

“At sea?” Anakin scoffed, “What are you, a pirate?” But the hard lines of derision softened as he reached out to brush his hand over the stubble that had begun to fill in since the night before. “Should I call you Red Beard?” He dropped his voice and his eyes twinkled mischievously but he was so amused in anticipation of his own joke he couldn’t get through it without dissolving into laughter. “When you - you - plunder my - my booty tonight?”

Obi-Wan made a displeased sort of sound that didn’t match the ghost of a smile that he couldn’t quite keep from tugging at the corners of his lips. “You haven’t been on a boat before?” he tried once more.

“No. Looks like we’ll both be having a first tonight.”

“Yes, yes, alright,” Obi-Wan pulled away and stepped forward to shake hands with the staff who approached, unwilling to admit that even the suggestion behind the terrible lines had him flustered.

[maulfucker]

Ok some thoughts about senator Maul AU because I keep thinking about it

Palpatine never finds an apprentice in this AU, so he ends up not being such a huge threat

The events of Phantom Menace only kinda happened - Naboo was attacked by the Trade Federation, but there was no Sith to pursue them and kill Qui-Gon, so things got resolved much more easily

Qui-Gon lives, so he gets to train Anakin, and Dooku doesn't get tempted by the dark side

I think Dooku still quits the Jedi Order, but this time it's because he feels like he could do more good as a politician than as a jedi. He keeps a good relationship with the Jedi Order and the Republic and doesn't become a separatist

Every time he's in Coruscant he visits Qui-Gon and Anakin (and Obi-Wan) and chats with them over a nice lunch, which is good because it gives Anakin a politician role model that isn't Palpatine, and a better perspective of his options - he can leave the Order if he finds a new purpose, it's not a betrayal or a failure

Maul was raised in Dathomir so he's not a sith murder machine, but since he's such a powerful Force-senstitive he was raised closer to his mother and the Nightsisters than to his brothers and the Nightbrothers

(Savage and Feral are alive and happy btw. They visit Maul in Coruscant sometimes. I think he might also have one or two sisters because why not)

He still doesn't like Jedi but it's like. He doesn't want to kill them, he just thinks they're way too limiting and self-righteous. Like how Obi-Wan doesn't like politicians

He rarely makes speeches on the senate, so hearing him speak is a rare treat

Picture holonet social media hornyposting under every clip of him speaking because he has a very sexy voice

His outfits are also pretty daring (read: sexy) compared to most (male) senators. The entire Dathomir delegation dresses pretty similarly, but he gets the most attention

Maul vs Padmé who wore it better type posts

He and Padmé have this weird kinda-rivalry because they're very opposite in a lot of ways, but they still vote on the same side in a lot of topics since they both have a very "I am doing this for my people" mentality

He also absolutely hates Palpatine because he gets extremely rotten vibes from him (he's more attuned to the dark side than the Jedi so he probably Feels Palpatine's dark side vibes better than the Jedi. He Feels Palpatine is Bad)

When/if the Jedi Order ever finds out Palpatine is a sith he will be very unsurprised

Ventress is a representative and Maul's "apprentice", learning the Senate life from him

I'm making her younger than her "canon" age here (by about 10ish years) because it makes more sense to me and because giving Maul a government-assigned baby sister is funny

From what we see in the movies each world seems to only have one senator but I want the Dathomir delegation to have at least two because I think it's more fitting (and realistic, every world needs more than one senator what the fuck)

I think it would be funny if Maul swears he's gonna quit soon and Ventress will take his place in the senate but then the other senator retires first and makes Ventress her successor so Maul has to stay a senator for longer. He just wants to get out of this fucking planet

On the Jedi side of this AU I think Anakin grows into a much more disciplined jedi because Qui-Gon the rules bender would definitely stay in contact with Shmi so Anakin's anxieties regarding his mom will be more controlled, and they would be contacted immediately when she gets kidnapped by the tuskens so they save her faster and she doesn't die and neither do the tuskens and everything is fine

Plus Anakin gets to know his new family better and have a brother and add a new dad to his collection <3

Maybe Obi-Wan gets Ahsoka as a padawan this time, so she can have a master who actually wants to teach, and also be kinda-siblings with Anakin and cause chaos with him while Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan aren't looking

The Separatists never really take off, so the clone wars never happen, but I think the attacks on senators that were happening at the start of AotC still happen because I think it's fun to have drama and have Jedi escorts assigned to senators (read: good excuse to set up an obimaul and allow the anidala plot to happen)

I want Maul to be miserable wet cats with Obi-Wan on Kamino so I am allowing the clones to exist. Purely for comedic plot opportunity. And because I love clones so I want them to exist

But I think this time they only made a single batch of like 10-100 clones and were waiting for the Jedi to get back to them with approval to make more

Maul sees this and goes "Absolutely the fuck NOT" so no more clones are made after those. Sad!

With Maul there to help the Jango fight is much more successful (and 50% less humiliating on Obi-Wan's side) so they capture him and no one has to die

Sidious had to hire Jango this time since I am not letting him have an apprentice, so Jango is like "I was hired by some old weirdo in a cloak who called himself Darth Sidious who sounded and looked a lot like the chancellor from Naboo" and Maul feels so fucking vindicated that YES the bad vibes he gets from Palpatine were correct can we PLEASE kill him now

Jango gets arrested and maybe he makes a deal to work under the Jedi instead of staying in jail so he can take care of Boba instead of leaving him to his own luck

Boba being raised with Jedi younglings while Jango is busy offworld....

The clones also become part of the Jedi Order so they can help Jedi with peacekeeping and defense and stuff

Palpatine gets found out and arrested and/or killed by the Jedi and everyone else gets to live happily ever after. Eventually.

... this is. Way longer than planned. I'm having fun

[giggles-and-freckles]

Hey there! Can I get brand new neighbors au with Anakin and Satine?

from this prompt list

“You walk up this every day?”

Anakin passes him on the stairs and laughs. “Getting old on me, Obi-Wan?”

“No,” he cries. “These are steep.”

“Give me the box,” Anakin instructs, dropping his own load at the top of the stairs and coming back down toward Obi-Wan.

“I can handle it.”

“You’re wheezing. Give it here.”

Obi-Wan clutches the large box closer to his chest. “I am quite capable of carrying a box up some stairs, thank you.”

“Then stop complaining so much and do it, old man.” Anakin bounds down the rest of the steps to retrieve the last things from the car and manages to catch back up to Obi-Wan, skipping a few steps along the way, just to annoy Obi-Wan.

“I’d say don’t mind the mess, but I know you will,” Anakin calls over his shoulder as he unlocks the door and leads the way in.

“Good heavens, Anakin, you’ve lived here for a week.”

He flops onto the couch and grins. “And you missed me so much you’re already here to visit.”

“You asked me to drive up with your last things,” Obi-Wan reminds him, taking a seat on the other end of the couch.

The truth is, Anakin wanted to call Obi-Wan the second he drove off in the first place. 

Sure, he’s excited about a fresh start. Classes haven’t started yet, but he’s already met some new people and they seem great.

But it’s also terrifying and Anakin hasn’t felt this lonely in years.

“We can order take-out later. I found this place around the corner with great burgers. Nothing like Dex’s, of course, but I’ll survive off of it for the next five years.”

“A degree is typically acquired in four years.”

“But I’m not typical, Obi-Wan. I’m above average.”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes and leans back on the couch. “I don’t think you understand what that means.”

“Of course I —” He’s cut off.

Obi-Wan shoots back up. “What the blazes…”

“You’re kidding.” Anakin stands and storms toward the window, throwing back the curtain to get a view of the street. Just as he expected.

Her.

“What is it?’ Obi-Wan asks, coming up behind Anakin to see out the window.

She continues to lay on her horn.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan says. “Am I in her parking spot? I’ll go move—”

Anakin’s hand shoots out to grab Obi-Wan. “Don’t you dare.”

“But —”

“I’ll handle this.”

If he was flying up and down the stairs earlier, it’s nothing compared to the speed with which he descends them now, billowing toward her car.

She sees him coming and times her horn honking to his footsteps.

“Satine! It’s a Saturday morning! Half the neighbourhood is still sleeping!”

She rolls down her passenger window. “I don’t understand how it concerns me that they’ve decided to waste away their days. What does concern me is this piece of trash in my spot.”

“It’s my —” He fumbles for a word, never knowing how to refer to Obi-Wan when speaking with a stranger. Father? Mentor? Brother? “Friend. He was helping me move.”

She smiles and claps her hands together. “Oh, you’re moving already? Delightful!”

Anakin smiles sweetly in return. “If I were to move, who would stop you from running over puppies and eating children?”

“Is there a problem?”

Anakin groans and looks over his shoulder. “Go inside, Obi-Wan. I’ve got this.”

“The only thing you’ve got is an ego the size of Texas and an apparently tragic barber, if that dreadful haircut is anything to show for it,” she points out, then leans forward in her seat to see around Anakin. “You there,” she calls. “This is your…vehicle?”

Obi-Wan comes to stand beside Anakin. “It is. I was unloading some boxes earlier and parked here for convenience. I didn’t realise this was assigned parking. It’s completely my mistake. If you’ll give me a moment to fetch my keys, I’ll get out of your way.”

She purses her lips into a thin line, clearly unsure of how to respond to Obi-Wan’s kindness. She gives a curt nod. “I should appreciate that.”

Obi-Wan walks back toward the house to retrieve his keys and Satine resumes her glaring.

“Your friend is not a student,” she says.

“Great observation, genius.”

“I’m surprised you have peers who know how to speak in complete sentences.”

“He does his own taxes and everything.”

Obi-Wan returns then, jingling his keys in victory.

“Thank you for being so patient. Again, I’m sorry to have set your morning back.” He turns toward Anakin. “Is there a metered area somewhere nearby? Or —”

Satine opens her car door and steps out. “Oh, never mind that.”

Obi-Wan looks at her — too closely, Anakin thinks. “I’m sorry?”

She pulls a small, genuine smile. Anakin didn’t know she was capable of those. “You’re visiting. It isn’t right that you park blocks away. Besides, my car is small. I’m fine here.”

“Are you certain? It’s really no trouble —”

She waves him off. “Nonsense.” Her smile grows as she offers a hand. “I’m Satine.”

“Obi-Wan,” he says, flashing a smile of his own.

Anakin hates this.

“Well, now that that’s all sorted,” he says, clapping his hands, “Obi-Wan and I have some boxes to unpack.”

“There’s only a few things, Anakin. It won’t take us but a half hour.”

Obi-Wan knows this. Anakin knows this. But Satine didn’t have to know this.

“Are you here for the weekend?” Satine asks.

“Just the day, I’m afraid,” Obi-Wan replies. “I have some things to get done before the work week begins.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a teacher.”

“Oh, that’s lovely. What do you teach?”

Lovely. She said it was lovely. 

Anakin needs to lie down.

[banoonagrams]

Sandy Waters — Chapter One

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker/Reader

Summary: The Jedi Council is absolutely done with the feud occurring between you and Anakin Skywalker. So, what do they do? They pair the two of you up on an important mission. But what they really did is force two people who have hated each other for years into close proximity with one another. For several days. Alone. What could go wrong?

Warnings: Anakin being his own beautifully annoying self

You hold your breath as the doors into the Council room move smoothly into the wall, granting you entry for your meeting with your superiors that you had hurriedly scheduled upon seeing who was joining you for one of the most trying missions along the course of your Jedi career. 

“Why is it that you wish to speak to us? I can feel the tension in your Force signature,” Plo Koon says to you, a neutral but concerned look in his eyes.

“I’d like to speak of my partner that has been placed with me for my upcoming assignment, Skywalker.” You hide the sweat that’s beginning to form on your hands by placing them inside of the sleeves of your dark robes.

“Speak what about him, will you?” Yoda inquires, leaning on his cane in an intrigued manner while sitting in his thoroughly cushioned chair.

“Of us being paired together on the assignment in regards to the thug lord on Hosnian Prime.”

“If you are experiencing any qualms, know now that your pairing with Skywalker was no accident.” Windu’s voice had a slight edge to it, which wasn’t unusual. What surprised you was his sudden exclamation that you and Skywalker were put together intentionally, as you had thought that the members knew of your rivalry with the smug faced man.

“I— If I may ask, why would you purposefully put us in the same room as each other?” You were utterly bewildered, your brow raised in surprise. The council must be a lot less wise than you had thought they were.

“Are you questioning our methods?” Dank farrik, this was already going wrong.

“Oh, no! Of course not, Master Windu. I was just going to suggest that I could perhaps be traded into a different… grouping, of sorts? I wholeheartedly think that the mission would run much smoother.” Windu sighs, pinching his nose disappointedly.

“This is not a discussion, young padawan,” he states, stoic as ever and already knowing how this meeting would end.

“I understand, Master, but I truly don’t think that this mission will go as well as it could be if I was paired with someone else—“

“As a Jedi, you do know that peace and balance are important throughout the galaxy, and are an important way of life for those inside of the Order, yes?”

“Yes, completely. But—“

“So then you understand that you need to make peace with Skywalker.”

Peace with him? He had become even more insufferable after he had been denied the rank of master Jedi. Of course, you wouldn’t deny that the look on his face after the fact was absolutely priceless, but the aftershocks of his rejection were starting to get to you. Every minuscule detail about him that had annoyed you previously had practically doubled in his efforts to prove himself to the rest of the Council, his need for praise in full throttle.

The room had gone quiet, something you were all too familiar with when it meant that Windu and the rest of the Council were obviously done speaking with you. You lower your head, the conclusion of your meeting going completely different than you had anticipated. Skywalker was an ignorant piece of bantha fodder that you could barely tolerate being around, much less stuck in a tiny ship with for a few days. With a dissatisfied sense of defeat, you turn the other direction to walk out of the sliding doors to begin to pack the few belongings you would need for your mission, but not before hearing something else from the Council.

“The two of you may be more similar than you think. Skywalker had the same conversation with us minutes before you came in.”

Son of a bitch. He had beat you to it. What were you thinking? Of course he had. His obnoxious obsession with having to be first at everything probably had him sprinting here to arrive before you.

“Do try to reconcile with Skywalker. The two of you could achieve great things if you simply worked with one another.” Yeah right. As if that ape in robes would ever be capable of doing anything related to working in a team.

When you were younger, everything you did seemed to be a competition to him. In what was supposed to be a simple sparring match, he’d almost knocked you out, leaving you with a nasty lump on your head and a trip to the infirmary. When you were researching a topic for a mission that you had found out about on your own and could potentially score you some points with the Order, you found him in the library, already claiming that it was all his idea to an eons-old librarian there. With the amount of gossip she partook in every day, the tale of ‘Anakin’s brilliant research’ was already being spoken of in all corners of the temple. On that day, you had to meditate in your room for over two hours straight just so that you wouldn’t wring his bronzed little neck.

And now, on the mission that could potentially bring you the closest you’ve ever been to becoming a Jedi Master, he was going to be a thorn at your side the entire time. For many padawans, the style of mission that would determine whether they would be promoted normally included being grouped with another student for a job increasingly important than any of their previous solo ones. These could go from assignments such as rescuing an ally political figure, being judged on how well you handled said assignment, to how you both react in a tense public situation, testing your patience and morals. You know for a fact that Skywalker will be incredibly overeager on every step of this mission in order to make himself look good, his hurt pride letting him go leaps and bounds worse in a team-player situation. Maker, your patience truly was being tested in any direction you turned.

You storm your way over to the dormitories, wanting to get this mission over and done with as soon as possible, heading through the halls with your mind just about boiling over. You’re about to open the door into your room when, out of the corner of your eye, you spot a disgustingly familiar figure heading down the corridor. Narrowing your eyes and closing the difference between you two, you immediately accuse him of the first inconvenience that you can think of, because he wholeheartedly deserved it.

“You idiot! I would have been able to convince them to seperate us if you hadn’t gone in there first and mucked everything up.” With the intensity of how hard Skywalker rolls his eyes, you’d think they’d drop back into his skull. He crosses his arms defensively, his Nerf leather vest  squeaking in the process, before speaking.

“I had them debating among themselves when I left, so you must have made such a terrible speech that this nightmare,” he beckons back and forth between you both in a derogatory fashion, “is happening. Oh, and good evening to you, too, by the way.” His voice was practically oozing with sarcasm.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” you say, seeing right through his little plastic greeting.

“My apologies for being sociable, which is a skill I know that I’ve mastered more than someone I know.”

“You’re not being sociable, you’re just being an ass, and you know it,” you say, already completely done with him for the day after two minutes of being around him. “You’re obviously just trying to practice your holier than thou routine after you were oh so sadly denied the rank of Master. They’ll see right through it too, y’know.”

“See? This is what I mean. Are you capable of any other setting besides ‘snarky,‘ or is that the only emotion that you have?” He shifts his weight to one leg. “And I’m definitely going to be jumping up in rank soon enough, young one.”

“We’re practically the same age.”

“There’s that snark again,” he says in a matter of fact tone.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and balling your fists into tight, angry and potentially destructive balls at your side, screaming internally before you open your eyes again, a smile plastered onto your face.

“You know what? I don’t have to deal with this right now,” you say, shaking your head and rubbing your fingers on your temples annoyedly. “I’m going to try and make the most of what’s left of today before I have to withstand you after we take off tomorrow.”

You turn around and take another step into your doorway, the whoosh of it opening making the hair on your head move the slightest amount. The chilly, relaxing air helped to cool off some of the steam coming out of your ears.

“That might be the first good idea you’ve had since I met you.” The unfounded, arrogant little smile on his mouth that he’s already used a hundred times this month is making its appearance yet again. He’s just asking for a blaster bolt straight in the kybers, isn’t he? You hope he can see the irritation in your body language as you stiffly turn towards him one last time.

“I’ll see you on the ship, laser brain. Until then, screw you.” He tries to say something, but you put a hand in front of his face, shushing him. “Oh, and at least try to read the holo pad on the dealer we’re after, if you even know how to, yeah? I’m trying to actually get promoted, unlike someone I know.”

You don’t even wait to gauge what his response is, feeling thoroughly proud of yourself that you had just spun his own words back on him. You turn right around and step through your door, closing it directly in his irritating face and stubbornly not opening it again until morning at breakfast time.

Unfortunately for you, shutting the door like this caused you to miss the chance to see him slowly trudging in the other direction. He was muttering under his breath some laughably weak comebacks to respond to you with, such as “Of course I know how to read, you… nutcase” and “No, you’re the one that has a laser brain,” ultimately giving up his attempts at the end of the hallway and continuing to the training room to get some extra practice in before tomorrow’s vital outing.

If you’d like to continue reading, head on over to the story on AO3 or check out Chapter Two here on Tumblr!

A/N: I’m finally stepping into the Tumblr arena for the first time (tentatively, may I add)! We’re entering some uncharted territories here, lads. Anakin is so rude I swear, but DAMN if I don’t want to fuck the life out of him. Unfortunately, sweet, gorgeous, amazing little Padmé doesn’t exist in this universe, but hey, that gives us all the more time to absolutely RUIN Anakin.

Anyways, I hope Tumblr enjoys this as much I as I enjoy writing it :)

[cosmic-ships]

Me thinks I need to re-watch all the star wars movies me does.

[infernaleikon]

dancing with the stars obikin au.

imagine anakin is some sort of celebrity, maybe an actor who's not really a-list but he's starred in a few acclaimed independent films but is still waiting for his big break; maybe he's a celebrity chef who's hit a rut; and anyway, his agent books him the gig at dancing with the stars. anakin isn't super thrilled about it because how is this supposed to help him and also dancing?? really??? but he doesn't really have anything else going on at the time and it's better than nothing and it gives him exposure, so maybe it'll help with business and he agrees, though he complains about it a lot.

he gets paired with padme, who is pretty and kind and patient with him. anakin hasn't really danced before, at least not like this, it's really not his style of movement, so all these steps, getting the speed right, being rhythmic, it's all new and a bit challenging, and he feels like an idiot because he's not really getting it and thinks he looks like a fawn learning how to walk. it doesn't help that his heart's not really in it either.

anyway, he does get the choreography down for the first show. he dances with padme and he doesn't forget any steps, they get through without any horrifying mishaps and anakin is actually pretty happy with himself because he thinks it's a pretty big step up from rehearsals.

until one of the judges just sort of. scowls disapprovingly all through the evaluations of the other two. anakin can't help it that his eyes keep snagging on the man. at first it was because he's classically handsome, neatly groomed beard, immaculately styled strawberry blonde hair, a glint in his eyes that makes something behind anakin's ribs tingle. but then it's because of that look. the scowl gets deeper and deeper with each word the other two judges say. and they're being kind, praising the routine and anakins effort and how well he's done, this being his first time dancing and all.

and then it's the scowly judges turn to talk. his name is obi-wan kenobi and he's apparently A Big Deal with lot of experience, a keen eye, and not one to sugarcoat anything.

“well,” he starts and his voice is smooth. he has a crisp coruscanti accent that's dripping judgement and a bow to his eyebrow that's rubbing anakin entirely the wrong way. “that was...very lifeless.”

anakin feels all the blood freeze in his vessels. obi-wan goes on to say how substantially uninspired and crude the performance was. while anakin def has the posture for it, he didn't hold it, he was just going through the motions, the footwork was sloppy, the placement of the arms and hands was lazy, anakin moved akin to a construction worker stomping around a construction site carrying heavy machinery, and there was no charisma to be found.

anakin is flushed and angry and gritting his teeth through it all. “how about you come down here and do it better?” he finally snaps and there are some hoots among the guests and some hushes too. obi-wan just smiles, all teeth and sharp gaze, and says, “its too early in the program for that.”

anakin fumes for the rest of the night. his score isn't the worst of all the pairs but it ranges in the bottom half. he doesn't get eliminated which he isn't quite sure how to feel about because he didn't quite expect (or want) to stay on the show for too long but he also wouldnt have been happy if he really had to leave already.

anyway. the next show goes similarly. anakin moves on to the next round furious.

at the third show, anakin almost jumps over the judges table. Kenobi doesn't smile though, he looks thoughtful and unhappy. he ends his assessment saying that he sees development in all other participants but not in anakin, who instead seems like he doesn't even want to try even though he has so much potential to actually be good at it, and he doesnt quite understand why anakin keeps voted to continue. anakin is about to snap at him when kenobi adds that, well, a pretty face makes up for a lot, for many people. and that. that sort of shuts anakin up because. did kenobi just call him pretty???

anakin, in a rare moment of self reflection, thinks about what obi-wan—kenobi—has said, and then asks padme why she became a professional dancer and what got her into dance in the first place. and he starts paying attention when she teaches him, starts picking up little cues, starts getting the details of the choreography right, and the next show, kenobi is silent for several beats before he speaks. he doesn't sing the glowing praise anakin expected but his assessment is much kinder and more approving. “for the first time, it looked like you had fun,” he says at the end, and there's a smile on his face, small but genuine, “well done.” and anakin feels heat pool in his stomach.

he gets better and better with each show, he knows he does, he feels it, he sees it, it becomes easier and he's actually having fun. padme challenges him with tough routines but that's what he likes, and anakin pushes himself while kenobi's soft voice in his head tells him he's done well.

anyway. anakin and obi-wan start bantering because obi-wan, apparently, still finds things to criticize and it's driving anakin insane. but it's far less of the hard words from the beginning and switched to a teasing tone that anakin jumps on. every time he finishes dancing he's giddy for obi-wan's—kenobi's—assessment. and every time, when obi-wan—kenobi—lightly praises anakin's progress and the things he's done well, anakin flushes (though luckily that's always masked by the flush from exertion) and feels hot and tingly all over.

there's a portion of the show when contestants dance with one of the judges and anakin is thrilled when he finds out he's been paired with obi-wan—kenobi. the rehearsals are hot, sweaty affair. not only because obi-wan pushes anakin to new limits and heights with a demanding choreography but also because his hands are on anakins body, they're so close they're practically breathing each other's air, and obi-wan smells so good, he feels so good, and whenever anakin finally gets a part of the routine he's been struggling with right, obi-wan smiles brightly, happy and proud, and softly praises him, and it's all too much.

they of course end up being the fan favorites, the audience goes wild for their performance and their banter cranks up a notch after that and turns very markedly sharper and flirtier.

anakin thinks obi-wan likes him too. he corners him one time after a show, manages to get them to a quiet spot, thinking that, okay, maybe. maybe he can get confirmation. he's not an Idiot, okay. he's seen all the videos on the internet that very carefully catalogued all of obi-wans expressions whenever anakin dances or speaks to him.

but obi-wan rebuffs him. he's not unkind about it but very firm, and anakin is so horribly embarrassed and angry that he flees without even waiting for whatever it is obi-wan starts to say.

the last three shows are. tense. anakin is giving his best performances and he gets near perfect scores but there is no banter. kenobi is very professional and only comments on details that anakin could improve, and anakin just stares past him with an aching jaw and tries very hard not to burst into angry, embarrassed tears every time.

the final show comes and goes, it's a bit of a blur. during the celebration and the glitter raining down and the crowd cheering and everyone jumping and being happy, anakin catches obi-wans eyes across the floor, and there's. something. in obi-wans eyes. something hot and happy and soft and it burns, and anakin is still so raw from the rejection, he cannot handle that look, that he turns to padme and kisses her. it doesn't even mean anything, and he apologizes to her immediately, but when he looks back over, obi-wan is gone.

some time later, after the show has wrapped, they probably run into each other by chance somewhere. anakin wants to bolt. obi-wan still looks so good, and his heart is beating in his throat, and it's the worst, he just can't—but obi-wan stops him gently, asks him how he's been, how's padme, and anakin snaps at him, angry and hurt, and how would he know how padme is, he hasn't seen her since the final show.

“oh,” obi-wan says, so softly. “you're not with her?”

anakin snorts. “i was never with her.”

there are some moments of tense silence between them and anakin is ready to flee when obi-wan says, “i really wanted to kiss you that night.”

anakin sneers even though hope is suddenly right there, in his gut, behind his ribs, at the tip of his tongue. “yeah, right.”

“i wanted to explain to you but you left before i could.”

“explain what?” it comes out way too breathy and anakin hates himself for it a little.

“i was still going to be judging you, anakin. you were a contestant. it wouldn't have been right and if anyone had found out about it, we both would've been in trouble.”

“oh.”

obi-wan smiles a little. “i wanted to ask you if you could wait a few weeks longer because i definitely would've kissed you at the after show party.”

anakin flushes. “oh. that. that would've been. yeah.”

long story short, they bang. it's phenomenal.

anakin becomes a hobby dance critic on their couch at home and he's so terrible at it that it both gives obi-wan a headache and makes him laugh.

[wibzenadarksiderwithasoftheart]

WIP Wednesday

I'm working on something (finally) and I actually have a piece I want to share (awesome)

I just wrote it, so bear with the mistakes and enjoy some Obi-Wan and Quin banter from what will hopfully one day become "Do not underestimate the power of a kiss" or previously known as my unfinished Christmas fic 24kisses.

***. When Obi-Wan finally stepped into the bustling refectory, his gaze easily found his padawan in the crowd. Anakin was like a beacon in the force, his power evident even here surrounded by so many other Jedi. His padawan already had a heavily loaded plate before him, and was eagerly talking to Aayla who was listening to his eager tale with a smile.

Obi-Wan suspected that his young padawan had a little crush on the beautiful blue twi'lek.

However, before he could go further a strong arm was wrapped around his shoulder and Quin's uniquely strong scent of musk, spice and leather, plus something unidentifiable, filled his senses when the kiffar pulled him into a sideways hug, planting a wet kiss on his bearded cheek.

"Damn it, Obes, it feels like kissing an ewok!" He immediately complained. "I miss your smooth baby skin. Why did you have to grow a beard?"

Obi-Wan pushed him away, doing his best to scowl and act superior.

"Because one of us had to grow up," he replied, before smiling and hugging his friend.

"It's good to have you back."

"Glad to be back! Although it will take days to get rid of the stench of swamp.” Obi-Wan smirked at him and wrinkled his nose. "Ah, so that's the unpleasant smell. I thought it was just you." "Shoot, and here I was hoping you'd like my new odor. Guess not." Quin grinned and shrugged, his gaze falling on their padawans.

“I can see Anakin is thriving... what have you given him, growth promoter?"

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, much like his padawan had done not long before.

“No, but it looks like I am doomed to be the short one in my lineage, with the exception of Yoda of course,” he said with at long suffering sigh.

Quin laughed loudly and teased him relentlessly as they made their way to the counter, exchanging greetings with others along the way.

[yourneighborhoodporg]

The Guardian

Series Masterlist

Rating: T

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Summary: When Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka crash land on the desolate, ice planet Hoth, they meet a stranger with great power and deep connections to their past. You join the trio, hoping to face your destiny, which has long been foretold. But when the Separatists and Sith threaten you and your newfound family, you’re forced to make sacrifices to defend your friends, fulfill the prophecy, and protect the man you’ve grown to love.

✨Playlist✨

Part I: Rescue of the Fates

The Hoth Arc

Chapter 1: The Accident

Chapter 2: The Revelation

Chapter 3: The Escape

The Arrival Arc

Chapter 4: Arrival— Part 1 & Part 2

Chapter 5: Identity

Chapter 6: Patience

Chapter 7: Master

The Dark Waters Arc

Chapter 8: Blackened Water— Part 1 & Part 2

Chapter 9: Ancient Instruments

Chapter 10: Troubled Water

Part II: Dawn of Enmity

The Malevolence Arc

Chapter 11: Alone— Part 1 & Part 2

Chapter 12: Separated

[smilesrobotlover]

Crying over Anakin and Ahsoka rn I am NOT ok over those two

[cienie-isengardu]

Star Wars Hyperspace Stories Issue #10

[skysaunter]

@wraekage 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 :: "morning, sleepyhead.  you've been resting for a while." (anakin)

              𝚂𝙺𝚈𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙴𝚁’𝚂  𝙴𝚈𝙴𝚂  𝚂𝙽𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙳  𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽 , his breath catching in his throat as he jerked upright, heart hammering in his chest.   his pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out everything else as his mind scrambled to catch up with his body.   disoriented, he scanned the still shadowy contours of the campsite.   when had he fallen asleep? the question was a blur, an afterthought.  the only thing he could recall with clarity was the hypnotic murmur of water lapping against the distant shore, the constant reminder of a planet drowning in water—a sound that only deepened his unease.

planets with an abundance of water always set him on edge, their landscapes unnervingly foreign.  the ever-present humidity clung to his skin, and the scent of brine seemed to permeate everything.  he exhaled sharply, running a hand across his face.  his cheek felt warm and numbed from pressing against his forearm, and the dull ache of his muscles reminded him how deeply he had succumbed to exhaustion.

            blast it.  he hadn’t meant to pass out—especially not here, and especially not in violet’s presence.  yet, despite his irritation, a faint, traitorous clarity threaded through his thoughts: he felt rather. . . rested.

❝sleeping?❞ he scoffed, voice rough with the remnants of sleep.  he ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the grogginess that surely dulled his usual edge.   ❝i was—uh, meditating.❞ he waved her off with a dismissive flick of his hand, though his tone faltered slightly, betraying his attempt to feign confidence.  ❝you should try it sometime.❞

[yen-stanning]

Just Anakin & Ahsoka things on Geonosis

*bombs & guns going off everywhere*

Ahsoka: Well, this is another fine mess you've gotten us into.

Anakin: What? Hey, it's not my fault. You were supposed to study the holomaps.

Ahsoka: I DID! Remember, when I reminded you about the GiANt wAlL, and you said, "Don't worry, Snips. We won't be anywhere near that."

Anakin: *starts pointing to the wall* Just get ready to climb!

Ahsoka: *shakes head*