#obi wan blurb
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
đđđđđ đđđđđ
PAIRING: obi-wan kenobi x gn!reader
SUMMARY: @celestialwrites secret dating prompt list; dancing alone in empty rooms.
WORD COUNT: 614
RATINGS + WARNINGS: general audiences. fluff. no y/n.
NOTES: its been awhile since i've written anything, so take this blurb with gracious hands
STAR WARS MASTERLIST
The sun was setting.Â
You were not supposed to be in the Temple any longer, yet you were. It had been hard to find the exit after your responsibilities had been fulfilled, for Obi-Wan Kenobi was far more convincing than he should be. With something as simple as a smile, a wink, and warm hands grasping yours you were redirected to a different part of the building, your original plans being thrown aside as your feet moved despite your mental protests.Â
They were not convincing enough. There was no label on what you and the Jedi Master had, but it was special nonetheless. Surely forbidden for a man living by the Order, but it had to have been worth it for him to risk what he has. That thought always made your heart flutter.Â
Oh yes, this would be frowned upon. You felt far too much for the warrior of peace for it to be deemed acceptable.
âAnd what is your plan if someone catches you sneaking me off into the depths of this Temple, hmm?â you whisper to him, bumping your body into his as you take another turn.Â
âOh trust me, darling, I have a plan for everything,â he whispered back, voice smooth as he smirked at you. Cheeks reddening, you felt warm.Â
Finally, you seemed to reach the room he was searching for, and upon entering you were met with high columns and open windows. Orange sunlight streaming in, painting everything in a deep glow. Obi-Wanâs footsteps were silent as he walked into the open space, but you did not possess all the grace he came with; your boots clacked on the marble flooring as you followed, softly echoing throughout the large expanse.Â
âCare to dance?âÂ
The question broke your train of thought, causing you to turn your head to see him standing in the middle. He was angelic, really, washed in warmth and looking like a man in love. You did not often let yourself think that of him, but it was hard to deny it when he was looking at you as if you were the one who hung the sun and moon every rotation, hand held out to you as his words hung in the air.Â
There was no label on whatever it was that you both had, whatever connection it was that bound you two together and had you always coming back for more. But perhaps, just maybe, that label could be love. Could be something more.Â
You had somewhere to be, things to do and a home to return to, your absence would surely be noted; but it did not matter when Obi-Wan Kenobi was asking you to dance in an empty room during a Coruscant sunset. It did not matter when he made you feel like there was hope in this galaxy and you were wholeheartedly and unashamedly in love with him.
Obi-Wan had somewhere to be, responsibilities to tend to and an oath to live by, his actions would surely break that oath; but it did not matter when you looked so beautiful in the lowlight of the ending day. It did not matter when you made him feel like he was alive and he was unabashedly and completely in love with you.Â
And so your hand ended up in his, and he pulled you closer. Your chests touched as he wrapped an arm around your waist and you wondered if he could feel your heart skip a beat. You danced slowly to nonexistent music, moving around the room and getting lost in whatever it was you both had. No label, no words, just love and one another; dancing alone in an empty room.
all works on this blog belong to hesthermay.tumblr.com: do not copy, repost onto other sites, or claim my work as your own.
#the witch: writes#âstar wars#âsigned; kenobi#obi wan star wars#obi wan x you#obi wan kenobi#obi wan imagine#obi wan blurb#obi wan x reader#obi-wan kenobi#obi-wan x you#obi-wan x reader#obi-wan imagine#star wars imagine#star wars blurb#the clone wars#tcw x reader
104 notes
·
View notes
Note
đïž and đ„ș with obi wan please!
Oh my god if Obi Wan is the perfect man for sweet lovinâ, virginity losing, soft sex!
đ soft sex
đ„ș first time
warnings: AFAB!reader, smex! Allusions to oral!fem receiving way to soft and poetic cause I listened to Florence and hozier while I wrote it
First off, Obi Wan would just be so honored and touched (heheh) that you trusted him enough to be your first
And it is not a responsibility that he takes lightlyÂ
He starts by kissing you, slow and deep, relishing in the way your soft lips move against his
He cradles your cheek in his hand and kisses you till youâre breathless and drunk on his touch
âNow,â he asks, pulling away and tugging at your shirt. âHow do we feel about losing this?â
Slowly but surely the clothes come off unveiling an endless constellations freckling your body
And Obi wan makes it his job to kiss every
Single
One.
He spreads you out beneath him, leaving you so exposed but oh so secure in his arms
And Obi Wan works his way down your body, kissing every inch of you as he goesÂ
When he reaches the sweet heaven between your thighs, it feels like he worships you for hours, all the while holding your hand comfortingly in hisÂ
Once heâs brought you to the heights of pleasure not one but TWICE! he relents
Shrugging off the remainder of his garments, Obi Wan holds you in his arms and simply lets you explore himÂ
Forehead pressed to his, you run your hands over his bare chest, down his arms, up his neck, over his neck and all the most intimate part of him until youâve had your fillÂ
He enters you slowly, constantly checking in to make sure youâre ok and giving you all the time you need before movingÂ
With every thrust he lifts you higher and higher, whispering sweet encouragement in your ear rubbing your clit with skilled fingersÂ
Your orgasm washes over you like waves of pleasure Obi isnât far behind, spilling himself onto your stomachÂ
As gentle as can be, he cleans you up and you fall asleep happy and content in his arms
#obi wan smut#emoji request#blurb#emoji blurbs#obi wan kenobi#obi wan#x reader#obi wan x reader smut#obi wan blurb#star wars blurb#star wars#obi wan fluff#headcannons#star wars headcannons#Obi wan headcannons
213 notes
·
View notes
Text
Betrayal - Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader
Summary: months into the war and it's not as exhilarating as you'd hoped - not for your battalion, anyway. when the air conditioning in your compound blows, an old friend brings his tech genius of a padawan to fix it for you. while anakin is working, you convince his master to spar for old times' sake, and simple adrenaline gives way to a landslide of long-buried feelings neither of you should have for each other.
Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni, fem!reader, jedi!reader, reader is a general, sweat kink (? they are really sweaty and i talk about it a lot), oral (m+f receiving), semi-public sex (risk of being caught), sparring, lightsaber use, throatfucking, messy kisses, scratching/marking, lotsa spit, obligatory 'had you said the word' (sorry satine i had to steal his line)
WC: 16.9K / navigation / inbox
A/N: sorry this took me so long to finish! i didn't have time to write for like two months but it's done now and i hope you enjoy it <3 this is set a couple months/a year into the clone wars, but i have chosen to fuck with their ages a little bit. in this, anakin is like 12-14-ish, even though he was older in AOTC when the war began.
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
Neglecting the option of taking a padawan under your wing is what stuck you on this humid, blazing, hellish planet, and you almost regret it. Youâd wanted more freedom in your duties, didnât want a youngling clinging to your leg begging for help with their rudimentary saber drills, so instead you swapped it for what you thought would be constant battle, exhilarating speeder chases, and the glory of proving yourself. Unbecoming of a Jedi to wish for, yes, but youâve never claimed to be Council-worthy.
Now your butt is sticking to the chair youâre planted in, overlooking a very empty, very desolate, very boring outpost. Itâs so hot that you think youâve melted into the chair and fused with its fabric. Standing might tear your skin away from your flesh, leaving an imprint of you behind in your seat.
âGeneral,â One of your clone troopers calls, sticking his head through the doorway to your station, âNothing on my scanners.â
âNor on mine,â You drawl lazily, âWeâre scheduled to be inspected today. Any word from the crew?â
âNone.â He laments, âI just hope they bring a droid that can fix the cooler.â
The base youâre stationed to isnât always this disgusting. The structure is wired with an air conditioning system to keep the inside much cooler than the outside, but after a rather unfortunate incident with a freshly manufactured astromech droid with some crossed wirings, both lay broken and singed in the maintenance bay. Your clones donât know how to tinker with droids or heating systems, and youâd probably wind up just as ash-covered if you tried.
âAlert me when they land,â You order the trooper, leaning your forehead against the cool metal of the scanner screen before you, âI want to have time to change into an outfit I havenât soaked through with sweat.â
The scanner grows warm against your flushed skin far too soon. Everything is hot, and sticky, and gross, and you find yourself yearning for the cold showers you used to despise at the temple. Perhaps you yearn for the temple in general, for the familial atmosphere shared among overconfident Padawans and exasperated Masters. You think specifically of Obi-Wan Kenobi, a man youâd trained with, now Master to his apprentice Skywalker.
You havenât seen the pair in years, but you remember Anakinâs blonde mop of hair, as well as his penchant for chaos. Watching Obi-Wanâs eyes fill with horror at whatever shenanigans his Padawan had gotten into that day was part of what helped you make the decision to decline one yourself, though you hold no distaste for the boy. He was simply young and untrained in the ways of the Jedi, and you were not a patient enough person to gracefully navigate that predicament then. Youâre not sure you are now, either.
Even though you know youâre better suited on your own, you wonder if youâd have been more fulfilled with a Padawan learner of your own. Surely anything could be better than this, wasting away- rotting on a planet hot enough to boil your blood if you stepped outside without proper protection.
Your base is secluded and temperature-controlled, even if the contraption that the Republic had fashioned under pressure of time to keep you isolated is rather crude. Itâs, in essence, a large dome, seals in place to ensure that vessels can land and takeoff without destroying the temperature control. Itâs cooler within the dome than it is outside of it, but the hurriedly-designed system can only do too much, and you greatly depend on the air conditioning to do its job. Now that itâs not, youâre irritated from the heat, and you wish that the inspection team would just hurry up already. The patience youâd had drilled into you from your early years as a Youngling is nowhere to be found under the pressure of a heat wave, and your foot taps impatiently against the floor while you itch for some action.
You think itâs rather pathetic that you yearn for excitement so badly that youâre anxiously awaiting the inspection team. Their job takes barely an hour, a scan of your equipment and a survey of your troops. Theyâll walk in and out without so much as a pleasantry, but you long for something new, something more, something exciting.
The call over your comms comes over an hour later, a time in which you remain at your post but begrudge it all the while. âGeneral,â Your trooper barks, voice staticky and rough over the channel, âWeâve got visitors. Inspection teamâs here. Initiating landing procedure.â
âCopy that,â You bolt out of your seat, barely remembering to lean over the microphone to reply, âThank you.â
Finally.
Finally, someone new to talk to, even if they have the same face as everyone else youâve spoken to on this long, dreary assignment. Youâre friendly with your troopers, of course, but that itch for more is back in your brain, igniting you with vigor you donât normally possess as you rush to greet the inspection team.
However, when you reach the landing bay, and the shipâs hydraulics hiss, clone troopers arenât the only ones to disembark. Jedi robes make their appearance, shrouding the very man youâd just thought about, as well as the child by his side.Â
Obi-Wan wears the years that have passed since you last saw him, but time has treated him well. His hair is longer now, gone is that stiff Padawan buzz. His braid is missing as well, giving way to luscious strawberry blonde strands that heâs slicked back so that they drag against the back and sides of his neck. Longer hair looks good on him, just as it had when he was fifteen and had refused a haircut for months in a typical, if rather tame, display of teenage rebellion. Anakin is also significantly older than youâd kept track of, but he canât be older than fourteen if his lanky limbs and awkward demeanor are any evidence.
Obi-Wan smiles at you, and you nearly forget to shove down that shameful part of you that wants to take more out of him than he can give you. Even as Padawans youâd always gravitated towards the man opposite you, sneaking out to roam the gardens after hours together or sharing sly glances across mission briefings. But heâs an honorable Jedi Master - a member of the Council itself, so youâve heard - and you wrestle down your repressed feelings to grin at him.
âGeneral Y/L/N,â He greets with a smile so charming you lament that the Jedi Order interrupted his chances of being a model.
âMaster Kenobi,â You greet, but you know heâll chide you for the honorific if you use it more than once, âI wasnât aware youâd be on the inspection team.â
âWeâre not. Technically.â Obi-Wan admits, arm coming to press against Anakinâs back and nudge him forwards, âWe got word that your air conditioning system is out, as well as one of your new astromechs. Anakin here is still an excellent mechanic, I thought weâd come out to offer you some reprieve from the heat.â
Anakin looks embarrassed by the attention thatâs fallen upon him, in typical pubescent fashion, and you take pity on the timid teenager, casting your glance back at his Master, âMaker, thank you. Weâre melting out here.â
âI can imagine,â Obi-Wan laughs, and you turn again to Anakin whoâs anxiously awaiting your orders.
âAnakin, if you could fix our air conditioning, that would be wonderful. Honestly, Iâm not even sure I want the droid fixed, itâs what got us into this mess in the first place. But theyâre both over there,â You point to the shorted out panels, âAnd my troopers will offer you any supplies you need, like tools or wiring or refreshments.â
âThank you.â Anakin nods, hands clasped behind his back obediently even if he looks mortified to be the center of attention once more, âIâll have things up and running as soon as possible.â
âIâm leaving you here,â Obi-Wan warns the boy, pointing an accusatory finger at him, âI donât often leave you alone with machinery and tools, Anakin, for reasons weâre both aware of. Promise me you will not do anything reckless?â
âI promise,â Anakin mutters reluctantly, and you avert your eyes so he has some semblance of privacy.
âI mean it, Anakin. This is no time to experiment with your technical prowess. You simply fix their system and you wait for me back on the ship, understand?â
âMaster,â Anakin pleads, âI understand.â
âVery well. Get to your duties,â Obi-Wan dismisses the boy, turning to you only after he sees his Padawan crouch by the singed panel.
âHe shouldnât take long. He most likely will try to tinker with the astromech, though.â Obi-Wan smiles sympathetically, âHeâs not one to leave a droid unusable.â
âI remember he had a particular talent for mechanics,â You muse, starting off towards the main base intent on leading Obi-Wan to your rec room, âIf I recall correctly, he figured out how to inconspicuously rewire his communicator to give you an âunavailableâ signal if he didnât like what you were asking him to do.â
Obi-Wan scoffs as he lets you lead through the doorway, âYes, my Padawan has always had very selective hearing. Iâm sure you donât mind not having one of your own.â
âThatâs one of the reasons I justify my choice,â You chuckle, letting the door shut behind you as you make your way through the halls. The base that the Republic had granted you is spacious, even decked out with training facilities and rec rooms interspersed throughout your rows of quarters, but itâs unbearably hot and youâre tired of being cooped up inside of it.
âThis isnât bad for a base,â Obi-Wan muses, robes swishing behind him as he strides beside you, âBut I hope Anakin fixes that cooling system soon.â
âTry being stationed here permanently,â You scoff, tugging at the sweat-soaked neckline of your tunic, âI have long since abandoned my robes.â
âDo you have somewhere I could set this?â Obi-Wan asks, fingers catching the front of his cloak as he slings it off. It falls gracefully from his shoulders, and he holds the garment up as he laments still having to wear the rest of his robes.
âYou can leave it in my quarters,â You veer sharply to the right, letting him catch up, âTheyâre just down this hallway.â
Thereâs unmarked doors on either side of the corridor, and youâre still impressed that each clone trooper knows where their bed is at night. Your door has a plaque beside its frame that reads âGeneralâs Quarters,â and youâre not confident that you could navigate the halls without it. You type in your access code, and the door slides open with a hiss.
âJust set it on the bed,â You gesture towards your mattress, âIf we have some time, I thought,â You reach into the closet, pulling out your seldom-used lightsaber, âWe could spar.â
Obi-Wan laughs, discarding his cloak onto your bed as his eyes crinkle happily at the corners, âYouâre lacking a bit of excitement here, arenât you, Y/N? Thereâs no way youâd duel me willingly after I took you down the last time.â
Youâd sparred together since youâd been handed a saber for the first time. Sure, your initial weapons were wooden, then training blades designed to be duller than their more advanced counterparts, before youâd finally been granted allowance to manufacture one of your own. But there were no more dedicated sparring partners than the two of you, and you can tell the man opposite you is fond of the reminder youâve given him, even if he is trying to tease you.
âYou did not take me down,â You gawp, âI mean- yes, I was on the floor, but I wasnât done! You didnât win!â
âMm, yes. I didnât win because no one did.â Obi-Wan sends you a sly grin, âAnakin interrupted us, donât you remember? We never got to finish.â
âThen a rematch,â You insist, gesturing towards the open doorway, âOnce and for all weâll prove who the better duelist is.â
âOh, Iâm sure youâll win. After all, I can tell you spend every waking moment practicing and making sure you lose none of your fighting abilities,â Obi-Wanâs hand darts out to switch on your holotable, revealing an in-progress game of chess. Youâre losing.
âIâve only been using that as of late,â You snap, defensive, âItâs insufferable to train without proper ventilation. And only when Iâm not on duty. I donât spend all of my time sitting and playing chess.â
âLosing at chess.â Obi-Wan arches an eyebrow, finally stepping out of your quarters so that you can shut it once more, âCome, Y/N, show me to your training grounds.â
The training room is just as hot as everywhere else on the base. You walk through the doors and humid air greets you, something that wrinkles Obi-Wanâs nose and rustles his mustache.
 âGod, I hope your Padawan knows what heâs doing,â You groan, rolling up the sleeves of your own tunic but jumping excitedly into action despite the heat. You ignite your saber, slightly embarrassed by the thrill that the weapon gives you as it thrums to life. You havenât felt this in a long time, at least, not paired with the thrill of battle. Itâs significantly less awe-inspiring to ignite a saber against a training droid you know wouldnât be able to singe your tunics if you stood stock still. Obi-Wan brings his to life as well; blue and green lights bathe your faces.
âIâll go easy on you.â He smiles infuriatingly, cocking his head slightly to one side, âReady?â
âReady.â You jolt right, a fakeout before you dart left instead. He catches on rather quickly, though, and his blade clashes against yours as you aim for his leg.
âNice start,â Obi-Wan admits, âBut you canât rely on misdirection for your entire fight. Youâll have to overpower me.â
âI could easily overpower you,â You swing left, breaking the contact of your two sabers, then jabbing so that he has to move his foot out of the way to avoid the plasma. He stumbles, barely catching himself against his back foot, but it gives you time enough to bring your blade up and around to nick at his shoulder, a hole now slashed into his tunic.
âOkay,â He stands straight, eyeing the tear in his clothing warily, âI wonât go easy on you.â
âNever underestimate your opponent,â You tease proudly, saber still ignited, âThatâs one for me, Obi-Wan.â
âThat doesnât count,â He scoffs, standing at the ready, âI told you Iâd go easy on you. Now Iâm serious.â
âAll Iâm hearing is excuses,â You gloat, feet light as you step around him, âYou lead this time, Kenobi.â
He does. He swings downwards, and you block your face with your own blade to stop him. He nearly jabs at your gut before you can prevent it, and you feel the heat from his blade as your own comes to block his.
You fling his weapon away with yours, and he lets you. After such a long period of no action (and shamefully little meditation) your abilities with the Force have grown slightly weaker, as have your regulatory skills. You can still sense what heâs going to do when he squares his shoulders, but youâre almost not fast enough to interpret those senses, and you barely make it to block him from swinging his blade in a fiery circle that would clip the edge of your arm.
âYouâre rusty,â He taunts, his own Force abilities stronger than ever as his presence seeps through the cracks in your mind. You try to force him out, but it takes effort, and itâs effort you canât expend elsewhere. It means that you canât foresee his intent to aim for your face, and his blade hums inches away from your cheek as he holds it there.
You freeze; youâre caught.
Weâre even,â You grunt, sweat beading at your forehead, âBut weâre not finished.â
âHang on,â He disengages his saber, letting the apparatus clatter to the ground as he tugs at one of the outer layers of his robes, âIâm going to shed a few things.â
âStripping will not help your cause.â You tease, âIâm not distracted by sex appeal.â
Clearly, he isnât expecting your jab, and he lets his mouth fall open as he slings off one of his garments, an incredulous laugh filling his throat.
âY/N. Youâve obtained a foul mouth somewhere along your career. It certainly wasnât in the temple.â
âItâs the clones,â You groan, âTry being stationed with a troop of grown men who went through puberty in record time. Theyâve got the appetite of an adult with the filter of a teenage boy.â
âTheyâve never tried anything with you,â Obi-Wan narrows his eyes questioningly, and you try to avoid looking at the sweat glistening against his tanned neck as he strips to his base layer.
âNo, theyâre respectful.â You assure him, âJust crass.â
âYes, well,â Obi-Wan frowns distastefully, âThey havenât had Jedi training. I suppose Iâm not surprised.â
He stands there for a moment with only his undershirt covering his chest, then decides that itâs still too warm, tugging at its hem to raise it over his head.
You feel your insides ignite with a fire you havenât felt in a long time when his bare chest is exposed, skin marred and riddled with coarse, wiry hair. His stomach is flat but not as tight as you remember in your youth, softer now. You can tell thereâs an impressive layer of muscle beneath the milky white skin, though, even if itâs not outwardly visible. He uses his tunic to wipe the sweat off of his face so youâre granted a moment to ogle him, your mouth watering as you try to conceal your thoughts.Â
âOkay. Enough with this childâs play.â You shake your head, letting Obi-Wan have just enough time to toss aside his tunic before you plant your feet against the mat. Obi-Wan stands at the ready, both of your sabers ignited, âI want a real match. A long one, now that weâre warmed up. Best two out of three, Kenobi. Winner takes all.â
âWinner gets to stand in front of the air conditioning vent when Anakin gets it up and running,â Obi-Wan suggests, sweat trailing down his neck and over his chest. You avert your eyes, lest the fraile state of mind youâre in betrays you.
âFine.â You shrug, reaching for the hem of your vest. Itâs tactical, good for keeping with you on duty, but itâs etching lines of sweat into your back now. You sling it off, letting it land in a heap similar to Obi-Wanâs robes, and exposing the tank top you have on beneath it. âI know just the one Iâll pick. In my room, thereâs one just above the bed. Maybe Iâll let it hit my back while I win at holochess.â
âI think the heat might be getting to you,â Obi-Wan cracks, a slight heave to his chest as he tries regulating his breathing. Itâs hard when youâre as hot as you are to get enough oxygen, and youâre doing the same. Itâs awfully difficult not to indulge in the view of his bare chest rapidly rising and falling, and you feel a tug below your gut as a vision flashes through your mind. Itâs of what else could make him pant in such a way, and you canât afford to entertain the thought, not around him. âIâm not sure which outcome is more delusional; that youâll win this duel, or that youâll win at holochess.â
âYouâre wasting time,â You croon, charging with your blade poised for battle so that you have no more time to fantasize, âI think youâre scared.â
âDo I feel afraid?â Obi-Wan laughs, blocking your attack with little effort and redoubling to launch one of his own. The clatter of your sabers almost drowns out his words, âReach out, Y/L/N, all youâll feel is confidence.â
âIâm not sure I could feel you if I tried,â You lament, chest heaving as you block one of his swings, âNot while my mind is occupied with our duel. I am rusty, you were right.â
âPractice more,â He chides, âLess chess, more meditation.â
âOne is a lot more boring than the other!â You groan, barely managing to get your arm up in time to take a shot at his own, âAnd the less boring one is chess, so thatâs really saying something.â
âIt may be boring but it is beneficial,â Obi-Wan lectures you, and you wonder if he thinks youâre still a Padawan. You fight with heaving breaths and monumental effort, the heat sucking your energy out through the sweat that drips down your skin. He turns and his back is glistening, which is really not a sight that helps you to stay focused.
âNow Iâm starting to see why Anakin tinkered with his communicator,â You call, as Obi-Wan whirls around your left side, âYouâre very dull as a Jedi Master!â
You have to throw yourself onto the floor to avoid a swing at your head, your right shoulder aching as you do so. But you scramble away from him, righting yourself and miraculously avoiding the blade of your saber coming into contact with the training mat.
You stumble to your knees, driving the forward momentum you have against Obi-Wan as he tries blocking you. You nearly get a nick out of his pants, but he pushes you backwards with the threat of his blade, and you fall with your back to the mat.
Your stomach drops when a blue blade hums hot and bright near your throat, its tip directed at your jugular. It doesnât matter that itâs on its training setting; itâs inescapable and daunting when itâs an inch from your skin. Youâre done for.Â
âI may be dull,â Obi-Wan pants, beard glistening as sweat streams down his neck. His chest heaves as he speaks, bare and open for your eyes, and his pink tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth to dart along his lips, âBut I am victorious. Does this remind you a little bit of the last time we fought?â
It does. Heâd been standing over you then as he is now, and youâd had to fortify your mind back then not to let slip vulgar thoughts about being on the floor below him. His thighs, meaty with muscle and strong from training, are hidden behind loose pants, but their crotch has tightened slightly, a chub to what should be a relaxed surface.
A pang of arousal shoots down your spine, and suddenly the lightsaber near your throat isnât the most daunting thing in the room. Itâs Obi-Wan.
He swallows, his adamâs apple bobbing as you lay beneath him.
âYour thoughts betray you,â He observes, and you feel his invasive presence in your mind, sucking out the private thoughts coursing through your brain. Theyâre of panting breaths, heaving chests, wandering hands, and meshing tongues; passionate embraces, intimate attachments. Things no Jedi should fantasize about, not under the code. Things that should bring shame to you, and maybe they do, and maybe you like it.
âYour body betrays you,â Youâre able to muster, swallowing the saliva pooling in your mouth as you glance pointedly at his bulge. Itâs only grown since youâd last glanced at it; evidently your visions did something to him too.
He sees, or perhaps, feels what you see, freezes, then clicks his saber off. The blade retracts with a hiss and there is a distinct vacuum of sound where its humming once was. He breaks the unnerving silence with a clatter as he tosses it aside, feet still firmly planted on either side of your hips.Â
âItâs natural.â He weakly supplies, a poor defense, âItâs adrenaline-fueled, nothing more.â
âReally? So when you duel sith lords, when you chop the heads off of battle droids, you walk away with a stiff dick?â You carefully observe his body language, feet poised like he might bolt if you make any sudden moves. Heâs flighty, and you have to make your next moves carefully.â
âY/N,â He begins, his voice weak, âI wish you wouldnât use such foul language.â
âIs it the language that bothers you?â You push your elbows against the mat, hoisting yourself up at an obtuse angle to meet his eye better, âOr is it the truth it carries? Obi-Wan, you were right. Itâs natural. And it is not something to be ashamed of.â
âIt is against the Code,â He reasons, his voice still fighting to sound resolute. He offers no other reasoning, and you know itâs because he has none.
âItâs not.â You insist, âThe Code is ancient and rigid. And celibacy is not required, only a level head.â
âThatâs the problem,â He chuckles weakly, âI donât have a level head when it comes to you, Y/N.â
âYou seem as though you do.â You press cautiously, careful not to push your luck, âIâve never felt anything unprofessional about your feelings towards me.â
âThatâs because I havenât been around you in a long time,â He admits, âNot consistently. I was better at controlling it- no, hiding it when we were Padawans. I had to do it every day, it was natural to me. But I am out of practice now, and I have been since you were stationed here. I barely have the ability to hide how I feel about you, Y/N. And- and it is not something the Council would approve of.â
You sit up now, fully straightened. Youâre still between his legs, but youâd need to rise to your knees for your face to be level with his bulge. You plan to.
âThe Council is not here. Nor can they see us, or hear us, or feel us. They will not know what we do, Obi-Wan.â
âI will know.â He breathes, his voice growing weaker each time he tries raising it against you, âY/N, I will never forget a thing we do together on this base. If we⊠If you touch me, I will remember every brush of your skin against mine for eternity. If you- kiss me, I will never be able to put the thought of your lips on mine out of my head. And I would not know how to live without it for the rest of my life.â
Your heart sinks in your stomach like a stone in water. Heâs loyal to the Order, he always has been. But youâd been so blinded by isolation, so convinced by your own delusions, that youâd assumed his loyalty to you would be stronger. But itâs not, and you canât earnestly be angry with him for it.
You swallow what little saliva has accumulated around your tongue to give yourself something to do, then rise to your feet.
âIt sounds like you should walk away.â You mutter regretfully. His eyes hold the same feelings, strikingly painful. He nods, almost imperceptibly, but before he can follow your orders, you continue.
âBut will you forgive yourself if you do?â
You feel it, his swell of emotions. Every single one is unbridled, yearning, heartache, fondness, want; all of them unleashed from the man whose mind is usually a fortress. Theyâre washing over you like waves, invading your brain and turning your thoughts their colors.Â
âNo. I couldnât,â He admits, âBut-â and thereâs always a but, âThe Council would never forgive me if I didnât.â
âThey wonât know.â You insist, but itâs lost on him, âObi-Wan, please make a decision. Who is more important, you or the Council?â Then in a more timid, soft voice, as his soft eyes bore into you and beg for mercy, you give him the opposite, âWho is more important⊠me or the Council?â
He kisses you. There is no warning, no shift in his Force signature, only his hands on your face and his lips on your own. There is strength in his touch, his hands firm where they pull your cheeks ever-so-slightly towards his face as if heâs trying to mash them into his own. His beard is rough and grating against your face, but itâs not unpleasant, especially when it brings with it his lips. His lips, which are much softer than youâd have imagined them, merely frame your own. The kiss is sweet but chaste, and the only indication you have that he wants more is the way that he holds you against him. Otherwise youâd mistake his courtesy for disinterest, and you tilt your head slightly sideways to encourage more enthusiasm from him.
When your lips reconnect he sighs, a breath from his nose that fans over your top lip. Heâs letting you lead, letting you dictate whether you want to keep kissing him or whether youâll suddenly switch positions; itâs like heâs afraid that youâll rip off a mask and reveal yourself to be Master Windu, scolding him for his reckless passion. But of course you donât, and you lick gently against the plush of his bottom lip instead.
He hums at the feeling of your tongue against his mouth, but heâs suddenly pushing against your cheeks instead of pulling.
âAre you absolutely sure,â He starts, but canât seem to resist the temptation to steal another kiss from your spit-slicked lips, âThat you- mm, that you want this? Because I cannot-â He breaks off with a weary, pleading, defeated look in his beautiful eyes, âI cannot turn back if we go further. If we proceed⊠I will not be able to forget what we do. If youâre not interested⊠please tell me now, so that I may save myself from loving you for an eternity that you do not wish to share with me.â
You scoff, moving in for another kiss at his lips. He doesnât reciprocate, only pushing you back so that you can respond.
âI just spent five minutes,â You pant, desperate to reconnect your lips, âBargaining with you to get you to forget about your nerves. And you donât think I want this?â
You try surging forwards again but he holds you back, eyes still begging for your words.
âPlease. I need to hear you say it.â He seems almost self-conscious, worried youâre not interested in him the same way heâs interested in you. But you have been since you can remember, and youâre more than willing to work around the unconventional aspects of your relationship if it means you can have him, even just for today.
âI want you,â You breathe, the exhale hitting his lips, âPlease- Obi-Wan, I want you. I want you no matter what the Code says. No matter what the Council says; I want you.â
He looks like he could cry. He is devoted to the Order, far more than you have seen most Jedi, and to hear you choose him over the Code must mean a great deal. He pours passion into the kiss you share, chest filling with oxygen that he gulps just to be able to keep his mouth on yours for longer. He consumes you, fingers pulling at your cheeks and tugging you closer still, like he thinks you might fuse if he tries hard enough.
He groans into your mouth, his tongue more exploratory now that youâve pledged your devotion to him. Heâs not afraid of taking now, of getting his hopes up only to be thrown down, and he swipes the wet muscle in a hot stripe over your own tongue. He rolls it against your lower lip, so wonderful to kiss for someone with such lacking experience.
âNo one is coming,â You breathe, exhaling against his mouth as your hands wander to his waistband, âNo one- no one can see us.â
âI want you in your quarters.â He protests, grabbing your wrists when your hand sinks to his bulge and ghosts over it. He jolts at the unexpected contact, but holds you back, âI want to lay you down, Y/N, I want to indulge in every part of you. Worship you.â
âI will let you,â You moan, tilting your forehead against his and mouthing at his lips in a sloppy kiss, âYou may have me any way you want, Obi-Wan. But here, I- I want to have you. I need to have you now,â
âImpatient,â He notes, sounding suspiciously close to lecturing you. But he lets your wrists go, and you sink to your knees instantly. He hears them hit the training mat, knows they must ache, but he canât find any part of him available to worry about it, not now that your hands are prying greedily at the waistband of his trousers.
Heâs a near stranger to physical pleasure, at least in recent years. Heâs a grown man, he has urges, but he also has responsibilities, and the constant pressure of an ambitious (read: reckless) young Padawan under his supervision mixed with a quickly-rising rank within the Jedi Order leave him with little time nor interest to indulge in his barest desires. Your hand gently squeezing his clothed bulge as you wrestle with his pants nearly knocks him off of his feet, and heâs not sure heâll be able to handle having your warm mouth envelop it.
Finally you tug loose the drawstring within his pants, and yank them down his thighs. Theyâre seldom bare, you see from the milky white tone of the skin there, but they are muscled and thick like he does not neglect them.
You canât help yourself when you lean forwards, tongue already protruding from your mouth to lick a fat, wet stripe around one of his thighs. Itâs sturdy beneath your tongue that dips into the crease between his skin and the parts of it that are covered by his briefs. His muscles tense like youâve struck him with a fatal blow, and an open-mouthed groan escapes his lips.
His skin tastes of the sweat thatâs currently moistening every inch of your bodies, salty and tantalizing. Thereâs no escaping it in the brutal heat, but it makes him all the more sexy, his skin glistening before you even get a chance to smear it in your saliva.
Youâre guilty of impatience as he accuses, and you canât resist mouthing at his covered bulge. Heâs half-hard, but when your lips purse around the outline of his cock in his briefs he twitches, and you feel him stiffen against the restraints of his underwear on your tongue.Â
His knees give out with no warning, and he barely has the foresight to grab desperately at a bench press behind him for stability. He falls quickly to its surface, perching on the edge of it while you desperately chase his cock. You fit your mouth again over his briefs and drool against the fabric, surely soaking it through with your saliva. His cock, though restrained, is heavy and thick on your tongue, making your mouth water and produce enough drool to soak through his entire ensemble. His hands clutch the bench beneath him with white knuckles, and he grits his teeth to stop himself from shouting as you suck at his clothed cock.
âOh, Y/N,â He pants, voice strained as you get lost in your task and forget that you need to actually pull his briefs down. He reaches for your head, gently nudging you away with his knuckles against your temple.
âDarling, please, I canât- I wonât last for very long. Please, have me properly.â
He grips at the waistband of his underwear, tugging them down hurriedly and letting his cock spring free. Itâs of decent length, but slightly thicker than average, its base shrouded by a patch of curled hair at his groin. Itâs a similar caramel color to the rest of his hair, and his sweat has accumulated particularly within its wiry constraints, leaving him musky. The smell might bother you if it were anyone else, if you were anywhere else, but here and now, on your knees for Obi-Wan in the training room, itâs the most disgustingly tantalizing thing youâve ever smelled in your entire life.
Thatâs why you bury your face into it, the hair tickling at your skin. His hips jolt as you inhale deeply near the base of his cock, groaning and letting your tongue fall to drag against just the shaft of his erect dick. Heâs painfully hard, embarrassingly seconds to orgasm, and your spit now glistening on his length doesnât help. Or it helps too much; either way, heâs close to cumming and you havenât even had a chance to put him in your mouth.
âDarling,â He begs, pushing at your forehead once more, speaking through an eternal shortage of breath, âPlease, I- it all feels too good. I canât take it. I wonât last long.â
âThatâs okay,â You pant, your breath falling over his cock as it practically pulses with pleasure, âWeâre here for a good time, not a long time.â
âTerrible,â He manages to chuckle weakly, but any further chiding he has planned for your cheekiness is cut short when he stops breathing. He actually forgets how when your wet mouth closes around the head of his cock, your tongue licking flat over its head and covering most of its surface area. Itâs so much sensation so fast that Obi-Wan has to clench his hands around the bench not to cum right then and there, and he feels pinpricks of pain over his skin that he realizes are from his fingernails digging against his palms. When you draw your head back off of his cock with a slick sound, then move in again to take more of his length into your mouth, his lungs suddenly remember their function, and heave within his chest.
His groans are filthy and they only pool more slick wetness between your thighs as you kneel for him. You donât care about the ache in your knees, nor the pain in your neck from the slightly awkward angle youâre indulging in him at. All that matters is his cock, heavy and thick on your tongue, sweat and precum alike flooding your taste buds.Â
His restraint is put to the test. Heâs a member of the Jedi Council, for Forceâs sake, and he should have a little more control over himself than this. But it takes almost all of his energy not to buck his hips forwards and plunge the length of his cock down your throat, and it means that heâs not able to devote as much restraint to delaying his orgasm as heâd like.
Heâs twitching in your mouth, and even with your faded Force abilities, mental muscles weakened by disuse, you can feel the tension coursing through his veins, hot and wild. You donât need to look at his strained, white-knuckled grip on the edge of the bench to know that heâs devoting all of his energy to restraining himself, and you take pride in being able to undo Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi with merely your mouth. You indulge in his painful hardness, tongue smoothly caressing the underside of his length as you bob your head back and forth around him. Each time you draw back you flick your tongue up and over the ruddy, leaking head of his cock, something that makes that fiery tension in his body glow even hotter.
âIâm going to-â He warns you, voice petering out weakly as he tries controlling himself, âI canât- I canât help it, Iâm going to cum.â
âCum,â You speak in unison, your word coming out muffled as you speak it against his cock. You smooth your hands up his thighs, feeling his muscles impossibly tight beneath your fingers. You stroke them soothingly, encouraging him to unclench his jaw thatâs wired so tightly that youâre sure his teeth are on the verge of cracking, âCum, Obi-Wan, please.â
Even if you hadnât asked him so kindly, heâs sure he wouldnât have been able to withhold any longer. Not with your pretty eyes gazing up at him from between his legs, lashes latticing the tender emotions swirling in your gaze. Your fingers slide calmly, sweetly over the expanse of his thighs, and the mere thought of you digging your nails harshly into them and leaving marks is what elicits the final twitch of his dick on your tongue.
Evidently, youâre more in tune with his thoughts than heâd expected. Youâd caught the quick image that had flashed through his mind, now completely unguarded to you, and you curl your fingers quicker than he can comprehend, carving searing marks into his thighs that will show up red for at least a week. Paired with the movement of your fingers, you suck hard at his cock, plunging your face forwards to nestle against the base once more. His tip hits the back of your throat with force and it makes you gag, and Obi-Wan isnât sure what sensation is more overwhelming: the vivid burning at his thighs, the way the tip of his dick nestles so securely into the warm, wet sleeve of your throat, or the way that youâre breathing in his sweat-marred scent like itâs the purest oxygen youâve ever had in your lungs. All he knows is that together, theyâre his undoing, and he lets out a rugged cry; he canât control himself any longer when pleasure roars through him with a fury heâs almost frightened of.Â
Heâs always calm, collected, in control. But now heâs grabbing your face with shaking hands as he pumps warm spurts of cum down your throat, holding your jaw steady so that you canât back away, not that you want to. He holds you in place while his thighs begin to tremble, your tongue continuously smoothing over the underside of his cock while it twitches in your mouth. He keeps himself fully nestled into the back of your throat while he cums, and if he had energy to be embarrassed about cumming as much as he was, heâd be apologizing. But he canât, not when youâre swallowing him so eagerly, throat convulsing around the head of his cock and only milking more out of him. Thereâs obscene groans coming from his mouth, the kind that bring heat to your own core, and you think you could get off to the sound a thousand times over if you recorded him now. Theyâre deep, throaty, and desperate as he holds your face around his cock, gagging you on his dick as his orgasm takes control of him.
A part of your training that hasnât left you yet was your extensive disaster training, in which you were taught how to extend the time for which you could hold your breath. That comes in especially handy when Obi-Wanâs hands cradle your jaw, keeping you snugly choking around his dick. You have to fight not to draw back at the strange sensation of your throat being plugged while his cum splatters against the back of it,, and you use all of your strength to keep yourself from panicking at the lack of airflow. Youâre only slightly ashamed to admit that youâd willingly die like this, a fucktoy for his cock.
Once his orgasm has worked its way through him he seems to remember you canât breathe, all of the tension having leaked out of his muscles. He inhales with a start, pushing against your cheeks and tugging his cock out of your mouth, âOh, Y/N, darling- Y/N, are you-?âÂ
At the sight of your spit-soaked lips, tongue desperately running over them to collect any of the sweat that had accumulated there from being pressed against his pelvis, he lunges forwards to meet his lips with your own. He can taste the slight savory hint of his own release, your tongues meshing wetly and messily. Heâs hunching now, even though youâve straightened up on your knees, and he feels you clumsily palm at his dick, tucking him back away into his briefs. It makes his lips go slack with a gasp even though heâs just finished, and heâs more than eager to take you by the wrists and help you to your feet. You toss his undershirt at him with careless speed, and he nearly gets lost in its beige expanse from the way that his arms shake as he pulls it over his head.
âMy quarters,â Your voice is thick and ragged, still recovering from your prior lack of oxygen, âWe can- itâs soundproof, no one will know.â
âYes,â He breathes, legs shaking slightly as he gathers the rest of the clothes heâd shed while sparring with you, âUm- we can... Anakin still hasnât gotten the air conditioning running.â
âUh-uh,â You shake your head, feeling nothing from the vent to your left, âHurry, letâs go before-â
âGeneral,â The door slides open, and you both startle, much less in tune with the force presences of those around you than youâd like to admit. One of your troopers sticks his head through the door, âThe kid needs a multitool.â
You blink once, registering a slight soreness at the back of your throat, âGet him a multitool, then.â
Youâre sure he can see your haggard appearance, and all apart from the glossy look of your lips looks like youâve been sparring. Which you have, technically. You just hope Obi-Wanâs trousers donât look like theyâve only just been hitched up around his waist again, or his shirt barely pulled down over his chest.
âI lost mine, general,â The trooper admits sheepishly. There was an abundance of the supplies that were offered to you before youâd been shipped out to this battle station, and more had been stocked for a long time in one of the supply closets, but your troopers are bored more often than not, and you shudder to think of all of the times theyâve used them as target practice by standing them on the balcony and opening fire. Apparently, you need to request some more from the next inspection team, as well as impress upon your troops the difference between an abundance of resources and useless clutter begging for a blaster wound.
âI have one in my quarters,â You sigh wearily, âLetâs see to it that we donât misuse our equipment anymore, soldier.â
âYes, General,â He nods vigorously, stepping out of your way to offer you the open door.
âObi-Wan,â You turn apologetically, âWeâll have to continue our sparring match after I retrieve the multitool for your padawan. Youâre welcome to follow us, though Iâm not sure itâs any cooler out there than it is in here.â
âIâd like to stash my clothes somewhere, if you donât mind,â Obi-Wan holds up the outer garments heâd shed, âI think it gives you somewhat of an unfair advantage if Iâm liable to trip over my own tunics.â
You grant him a good-natured laugh as you pass your trooper in the doorway, and all in all, you think that the two of you have done a fantastic job at pretending his dick wasnât in your mouth only minutes ago.
Your trooper makes the wise decision to stand outside of your quarters when you enter them, although any initial disappointment youâd felt at his poorly-timed request has well worn off by now. Thatâs all heâs guilty of, anyways; you find their antics amusing despite their destructive nature. Itâs not his fault that youâre canoodling with the Jedi master, so you forgive him his abhorrent timing. You beeline for a locker in your closet, punching in the numeric code and letting the squeaky hinges reveal your small weapons store. Itâs a multipurpose space, blasters on a rack thatâs affixed to the back, a mount for your saber, and a drawer of various other mechanical supplies down below. You throw it open, and Obi-Wan watches you dig for the multitool where he stands by your bed, his tunics laid on your bedspread.
You realize all too late that one of your other mechanical supplies is in full view of the Jedi master standing behind you, black in color for subtlety but unmistakable in shape. Itâs phallic and has a second prong that shoots off of the base to vibrate against your clit, something you only use when you're absolutely certain no one can hear. Besides, the sound could very well be mistaken for one of your troopers shaving their scruff, so you have ample opportunity. You snatch the multitool out of the drawer and slam it shut, making your trooperâs shoulders twitch in a quickly concealed wince. Youâre thankful that only Obi-Wan was a temporary witness to your lack of organizational skills.
âHere,â You rush to hand it off, forcefully locking the cabinet and thrusting the tool towards the trooper, âTake it- uh, keep it, Iâll put in a request for more supplies tonight.â
âThanks, General,â He nods warily at you, and you pity the way heâs taken your context clues and misarranged them to view your behavior as standoffish and exasperated with him, âMy apologies again.â
âNo worries,â You try not to snap at him, unnerved by the abnormal lack of mental pressure from Obi-Wan behind you. He used to tease you abundantly in your youth, prying at your mental shields and slipping snide remarks through the cracks while you fought to keep a straight face, but now that heâs laid his eyes on possibly the most embarrassing item you own, heâs completely still, completely silent.
âGoodbye.â You shut the door with a hydraulic hiss, and stand facing it until Obi-Wan speaks, pretending to fuss with the control panel.
âIt seems you overlooked another multitool in that drawer,â His voice finally reaches over the silence, carefully bundled so that the underlying mirth is something you can only guess at, âNow I wonder if your battalion is really the cause of your foul mouth.â
âShut up!â You whirl on him with cheeks blazing on opposite sides of your face like Tatooineâs twin suns, âDonât tease me-â
âIâm not teasing you!â He insists, voice sounding aghast, like itâs out of the question, like heâs offended by the accusation, taking your arms into his grip when you look like you might shove him. His face is split into a smile - not a grin, which is reassuring - but a warm smile, even if there is amusement twinkling in his eyes.
âYes you are,â You scoff, and you have half a mind to pull away when one of his hands releases your arm and anchors itself against your face instead. Itâs warm, rough from wear but impossibly gentle. You fight leaning into it for as long as you can, pride still bruised, but he leans in to press his lips against your forehead in a chaste kiss.Â
Typical.
Youâd gagged on his dick ten minutes ago, and heâs kissing your forehead.
âDarling,â He hums sympathetically, tucking your face against his chest so snugly that you think it was engineered for the curves and bumps of your skin. You relish the hug he traps you in, the tender hold even though youâre interested in something more carnal, feral, hungry. His voice is strong and soothing as he speaks, and the vibrations thrum through his chest and against your face âYou had my cock in your mouth not ten minutes ago. Iâm not going to make fun of you for having a toy.â
Oh. Perhaps he hadnât forgotten.
âSuch a foul mouth,â You admonish him, tucking your grin away between the haphazardly-righted folds of his tabard.Â
He pinches at your side, fingers greedily prying at the soft flesh of your belly through layers of clothing you wish werenât between your skin and his, âYes, well, itâs because Iâve had yours all over me.â
His hand, similarly bold to his mouth, flattens out along the curve of your side, tucking into the space above your hip bones. The other stays in place against your cheek, finger running idly across the underside of your jawline. You donât know whether the shiver that shudders down your spine is due to the ticklish nature of his touch, or the sensual area heâs chosen, but he feels your spine thrum, and he presses further into you like it was an invitation.
âDarling,â He starts, back to that well-practiced hesitancy, âIf you still want toâŠâ
âI do,â You nod, feeling sweat drip down the back of your neck and soak into the fabric of your tank top, âDo you think we have time?â
âAnakin can occupy himself with scrap metal and multitools for hours,â Obi-Wan recollects with a smile on his face that isnât committed to fondness or resignation. Youâre sure heâs proud of his padawanâs abilities, but not of the havoc he wreaks with them.
âHmm, that might be cutting it close,â You pretend to debate it, gnawing at the inside of your cheek, and he lets out a laugh as warm as the runoff heat from his saber with none of the bite of its blade.
âYouâd occupy yourself with me for hours?â He teases, but when you nod, itâs earnest.
âIâd occupy myself with you for the rest of my life, Obi-Wan.â
The breath that he draws in when you begin speaking is the last one he draws for a while. Instead he holds it there, letting it burn and sear at his lungs while he wonders if any words he could produce with it would contain even a fraction of the yearning he feels roll over him in a nauseating wave. Very little has ever made him want the life of a civilian - his home is between the opulent walls of the Jedi temple, but any walls he shared with you would be infinitely more grandiose if only for your place within them.
âHad you said the word,â He elects to speak the truth, even if it isnât even a chip away at the trove of feelings he keeps locked tightly away in his mind for you, âI would have left the Jedi Order.â
Would have.
You know why he wonât now, and youâre not upset with him for the reasons. You understand them, even if you donât relate to them.
âBut AnakinâŠâ
âI know,â You nod against his chest, fingers taking hold of his undershirtâs fabric edge and fastening there, âYou made a promise to your master. And to him. And he needs your help. I wouldnât ask you to leave.â
âWould you have? When we were younger,â He idly strokes down the length of your spine, arm wrapping comfortably around your waist.
âMaybeâŠâ You admit, âMaybe if Iâd known your trip to Naboo would bring about such change. Maybe if Iâd known I only had a few years left with you as we were. But I didnât. So I never asked. And I never will.â
He doesnât react verbally or physically after your confession, but the silence that ensues isnât an awkward one. Instead, he maintains his hold on you, and you feel a gentle wave of affection flow from him through the Force. Affection, appreciation, love, which you feel so broadly through the Force, but rarely so devoted to you yourself rather than the galaxy in its entirety. Youâre no stranger to the feeling, but itâs different channeled privately between two people than it is as a way of life.
âLet us pretend,â Obi-Wan finally musters, his voice thicker than usual, though if you were not so in tune with him you wouldnât have perceived it, âFor the next few fleeting moments, that we are still young. That we donât have responsibilities other than those to ourselves, and to each other.â
Though your youth may have escaped you, your mind weary with resignation and Obi-Wanâs eyes darkened with the perpetual exhaustion of adulthood, his touch does not feel tired or incapable. It feels strong, firm, and mindful where it slips from your chin to your waist. His other hand sandwiches you between them, and youâre tilting your chin up to kiss him before he gives any indication that heâll do the same. But he does, his boldness almost reset from the interruption youâd suffered. Like you need to coax him out of his shell again, like heâs worried youâve somehow changed your mind.
You take the back of his neck in your hand, finding it slick and tacky with sour-smelling sweat, and pull him down so that his lips smash messily to your own. Itâs a move heâs not expecting, and a startled groan escapes his lips as proof. You drink it, sucking it down your throat and pulling him towards the bed with the same backwards momentum. Heâs nimble even if heâs unprepared, probably to do with his extensive agility training. Youâre more than ready to fall back onto your bed when your calves butt against the frame but he lowers you down gently, with ease, drawing back from your kiss despite your fervent protests to watch you look up at him.
âObi-Wan,â You beg, your voice weary, âWhy are you hesitating?â
âIâm not hesitating,â He answers, and you feel it to be truthful, âIâm admiring you, darling. Iâm not unsure, Iâm more sure than Iâve ever been in my life.â
âProve it,â You plead, already pulling at the hem of your tank top. You peel its sweat-soaked binding off of your skin, showcasing the equally stained garment beneath it that keeps your chest closer to your neck than your stomach, âPlease, Obi-Wan, take me like you want me. Not like you feel bad for having me.â
âI do not feel bad for having you,â He promises, mouth barely parting from yours to utter the words. His lips are pink-tinted, glistening with spit, probably a mixture of his and yours. He pants slightly, cheeks similarly ruddy, âPerhaps later I will. When I stand in front of the Council and tell them we conducted routine maintenance. When I lie, when I guard my memories of you from them. But Iâm not occupied with that now, darling. Only with you, I swear it.â
âOh, well, thatâs good to know,â You hum, kissing an inch lower than his mouth, the apex of his chin thatâs marred by the scruff of his beard. Itâs prickly and rough beneath your lips, and when you draw back they glisten with transferred sweat, âIâm glad youâre not thinking of Master Yoda while dipping a knee between my thighs.â
âOh,â Obi-Wan ducks his head, advances on pause as he plants his forehead against your shoulder, âThatâs awful. Really, truly vile.â
You laugh, and despite his disgusted bravado, so does he. His chest shakes against yours and you relish the sound, hand still planted firmly on the back of his neck. You briefly consider breaking out your rusty Yoda impression, âkiss me, you mustâ, but decide against it, instead choosing to press his head closer to your torso, letting his forehead lay flush and sweaty against your shoulder. It puts the scruff of his beard on the curve of your tits, and you feel it burn your skin as he kisses along it lightly.Â
His mouth is soft, and his beard is its abrasive opposite. They trail in tandem along the slope of your breasts, first the soft lips and then the burn of the beard, until heâs lit a fiery trail across your skin to the padded edge of your bra. When his lips meet fabric instead of skin he noses beneath it, surely smelling a morningâs worth of sweat accumulated beneath the weight of your chest. Youâre self conscious, for only a flash, then he takes a deep drag of air, inhaling until his chest seems fit to burst.
âIâm sorry,â You find yourself humming, regardless of his clear interest, âI wish a shower would help. Even the cold water doesnât prevent sweating.â
âI donât want you to shower,â He muses, pushing his face between your breasts to kiss at the skin between them. He mouths gently, tongue sliding over your skin with little form and too much spit that blends well with your sweat, âSex is not sterile, darling. Soap and water defeat the purpose.â
Youâre not sure whether itâs his insistence on the natural state of your body or the way that his knee gently prods against your center, but whatever it is, your fingers itch and you fling them up to cup the underside of your chest.
âTake it off,â You beg, and Obi-Wan shows no hesitation in complying, his hands sliding beneath your back, rough and weathered from work. Theyâre gentle as they slide over the clasp of your bra, and you push yourself up onto your elbows on the mattress so that he can maneuver the stretchy fabric easier.
âDoes it hook or button?â He nudges his nose against yours to ask, and your stomach flops at the question. Both the fact that he doesnât have enough experience to know, and the way that he feels comfortable enough admitting that to you by asking so earnestly only make you want him more, and youâre barely able to mumble âclaspâ before pressing your lips to his own once more.
âThree,â You add later, against his lips, when he unhooks one and still doesnât have the garment undone, âThereâs three.â
He takes your orders with unfailing patience, a trait youâd admired even in your youth. While youâd been more prone to hotheaded outbursts, heâd take you by the arm and speak for the both of you, usually resulting in far less severe of a punishment than youâd have gotten if youâd spoken your mind. Then the two of you would share sneaky, fleeting glances at each other while scrubbing the floors of the refectory, trying not to laugh loud enough for the Knight unwillingly supervising your punishment to hear.
Youâre pulled out of your reverie when he finally unhooks the garment and slips it off of your shoulders, meaning you have to draw back from where youâd tucked your face over his shoulder, giving him a view of his work. As your faces pass each other he offers you the same grin heâd worn all those years ago, his pretty eyes alight with the love you feel seeping from his fingertips. You see a glimpse of the boy he was through the man heâs become, and both are equally endearing to you. The first, because youâd grown with him, like ferns tangled together in sticky, clinging tendrils. The second, because he wears his accomplishments on his face, crows feet at the corners of his eyes from laughing at his padawanâs wayward antics, and frown lines for scowling at the same incidences only moments prior. Heâd laughed at you in your youth, and frowned just the same at your more uncouth ideas for adventure, and now those expressions are etched into his face, like layers of makeup no longer dissolvable with remover. Heâll wear them forever, and you want to see him display them even in his old age.
He watches the way that your body moves when he peels the sweat-soaked garment away from your chest. He watches your breasts succumb to gravityâs harsh pull, sloping sideways and downwards rather than maintaining their tight compress towards your chin. He watches them sag, watches them fall to their natural state and declares, âYouâre beautiful, darling.â
He takes them in his hands, their mass in his palms as he rolls his thumb over the skin of your nipples. Theyâd usually pebble in the cold but now theyâre pulling taut beneath his touch, and when he brushes his thumb over their peak you stifle a gasp.
âBeautiful,â He repeats, and leans down to meet one with his mouth. He gravitates towards the right one first, and the embrace of his hot mouth against your skin tempts your back to arch. His tongue presses flat against your nipple, then drags up its surface, and his lips kiss over the stripe of saliva heâd left behind.
His beard rubs against your skin and itâs not rawing, not yet, but you know it will be the more he mouths at your breast. Heâs licking, sucking, pulling, but never biting, teeth merely grazing your flesh rather than indulging in it. His tongue does that instead, flattening out over your raised flesh and dragging hot, wet stripes over the bud of your perked nipple.
âObi- Obi-Wan,â You gasp, dragging desperate, heaving breaths into your lungs as your hands fly to his lengthened hair. Youâd ruffled it many times when it was short and spiked, but now youâre able to get purchase in the strawberry-blonde locks, curling your fingers around the soft, sweat-darkened strands and pulling.Â
You donât pull hard, but itâs unexpected, and you feel the momentary pinch of Obi-Wanâs teeth around your breast. It floods heat to your already-pulsing core more than youâd have thought possible, considering the sweltering temperatures youâve been in the whole time, but the soft groan that then ripples through your skin from the depths of his throat only makes you more desperate. All of a sudden the long-suffering heat is tepid by comparison, and you yank at the material of his undershirt so hard you nearly rip the fabric.
âOff,â You pant, âPlease, take it- get it off, Obi-Wan.â
In a fluid, crouched movement Obi-Wan tears his undershirt off with one hand at its hem, his muscles flexing as he swings the arm up and over his head. He discards the shirt carelessly beneath him and it droops to the floor, no longer covering the bare skin of his chest that youâd admired earlier.
You have half a mind to do to him what heâs been doing to you, to sink your teeth into the flesh of his chest and suckle on his sweat-soaked skin. But he dips his face back to mouth at your tit once more, so you settle for running your hands greedily, desperately over the layer of soft skin that blocks his muscled chest from view. When he was younger, what seems like an eternity but must only be five years, his build was more defined. Youâd gotten plenty of eyefuls of his bare, heaving chest during a particularly intense sparring match, or down by one of the large pools that were definitely supposed to be used more for reflection and tranquility rather than the chaos youâd wreaked upon them. But years of planning someone elseâs schedule before his own has meant that heâs softened out around the middle, muscles still prominent when you dig your fingers into his skin, just not starkly visible anymore.
Age does that to a person; pushes them harder than ever before to achieve a less-defined result than theyâre used to, but you find that you want to grind down onto the thin layer of pudge heâs accumulated just as much as youâd have wanted to drag yourself over his defined abs. The thought of doing both, either, anything makes you dizzy with desire that you express by scratching your sharpened nails down his skin, feeling his muscles shudder beneath your fingers.
âDarling,â He groans, choking on the word like itâs gagged him, âI- I think we ought to- are you ready?â
You marvel at his sincerity, at the idea that heâs not aware of the throbbing, slick mess that your core has become. Youâd been ready twenty minutes ago, sprawled out on the floor beneath him, and youâve only gotten more eager since then. His concern makes you want him more, and you use your grip on his soft hair to tug him upwards to meet your lips in a kiss.Â
âIâm ready,â You breathe, laying the words out in a hazy moan over his tongue, âIâm ready, Obi-Wan, please- please take me.â
A groan melts from his mouth like molten butter, dripping over your tongue and down your throat. He pants, lets you suck his tongue into your mouth in a long, eager drag, then mumbles clumsily, âI want you. I want- I want to have you, darling, I want to take you.â His hips roll experimentally against your own, the tight pressure of his clothed cock digging into your panties as he nearly loses the function in the muscles that are holding him up above you.
He lets out another moan as you drag your hips up to meet his premature thrusts, and this time itâs a weaker sound, more strangled and mottled. Itâs satisfying, knowing that youâve reduced the ever-stoic, prized Jedi negotiator Obi-Wan Kenobi to a heaving mass of sweat and desire. His undershorts are rucked up around his meaty thighs, but he hasnât yanked them off to free his stiff cock yet, so for a moment, all you do is grind against each other.Â
The layers of clothing between you, one covering you and two covering him, provide frustrating boundaries but much-needed friction, and the scrape of his rough undershorts dragging against your thin panties makes your fingers curl into his back once more. You suspect that when he wakes tomorrow, your marks will still be there, and you take pride in knowing that heâll have a very hard time forgetting you.
âObi-â You really do intend to say his full name, but your breath leaves your lungs too quickly for it, and you revert back to the nickname heâd loathed as a teenager. Too juvenile, heâd protested greatly at the clipped diminutive, but he leans into it now. He licks the word right off of your tongue, his own plunging past your lips and dragging over your teeth in a messy, imprecise fashion. You get the sense that this is not about sex to him, itâs not about mechanics or equations or the perfect formula. Itâs about you, and him, and you and him together. He doesnât kiss you like a storybook prince because he kisses you like Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan wants to lick the spit out of your mouth and suck on your tongue. Obi-Wan wants to feel, not think, for once in his life, so he does.
âObi-â You falter again, hands traveling from his muscled back to his hips. Your fingers dip beneath the waistband of his undershorts, then his briefs where they lay against the same stretch of skin, âOff. Off, please- Obi-Wan, off, take âem- off.â
He grunts his approval into your mouth, obscene squelching sounds coming from where his spit pools between your teeth and your tongue. He reaches down with a blind, clumsy hand to tug at his waistband, but when it doesnât provide immediate results, he finds himself getting frustrated. Itâs an unfamiliar feeling, not the frustration itself but his inability to control it, and he feels his brow crease in irritation as he reluctantly parts from your mouth to focus on the task at hand. All he needs is a little extra leverage to slide his shorts off of his waist, briefs bunched together, and as soon as theyâre out of his way heâs reaching for your own underwear.
You crane your neck downwards to watch him, and the glimmering mess of saliva in your mouth practically doubles in volume at the sight of his red-tipped, rock-hard cock. Itâs curved slightly up towards his stomach in its desperation, and thereâs precum oozing from its tip, foaming and all too appealing. You want to suck him off again, to really choke yourself on it this time and never draw back for air, but thereâs no time when he tugs swiftly at the elastic band of your panties, tearing them easily away from you. They drag beneath your thighs but he merely pulls harder, until they spring free and bunch up around your knees.
âUp,â Obi-Wan taps at your left thigh, and you struggle to bend your knees amidst their relentless trembling. He helps you, strength having stuck with him even when composure has abandoned its post. You get your left thigh up first, exposing your glistening cunt, smeared sticky with your own slick. His breath catches, you feel it stutter to a stop in his chest that youâre groping, and his eyes glimmer in the warm lights above you.
âDarling,â He breathes, taken by the mess of your drooling cunt. He reaches out, touches it carefully, with only the pad of his pointer finger. He ghosts it along the side of your slit, and even the infuriatingly chaste touch is ultra erotic. At the way you writhe beneath a single one of his fingers he brings his thumb up to stroke down your slit, catching wetness on his thumb that his mouth opens to accommodate.
He sucks your release clean off of his thumb, youâre almost certain he scrapes his teeth along his skin just to get it all.Â
He leans into his own thumb, chases after it like heâs not the one taking it out of his mouth. He hesitates no further in clamoring backwards on the mattress until his knees hit the floor below, and he thanks the Force that the beds you were given are low enough for him to lean over the edge and bury his face in your cunt.
âObi-Wan, no!â You plead, fingers tangling in his pretty blonde hair, âYouâll- you said- donât cum yet, please, I- I want it in me!â
âI will cum in you,â He pledges, voice deep and determined as he nudges his nose against your wet cunt, âMy darling, Iâll do whatever you ask. But I need you here, now. Please,â He breathes, his exhale shaky and warm as it heats your cunt, âPlease, Darling, I want you here.â
âHave me,â You whimper, squirming your hips from side to side to propel yourself down the mattress. Your cunt bumps messily against his face that he doesnât bother moving, and you buck your hips once, twice against his nose, riding his face, âPlease, have me, Obi-Wan, you can have me.â
Your consent is all it takes. His mouth is open and his tongue is out the second you say the word, licking wet, tantalizingly slow stripes up your slit. He doesnât breach it, doesnât delve his tongue into your entrance, he laps at the slick smeared on the outside, as well as the wetness that has thoroughly soaked your thighs. Your skin is tacky with it even when heâs replaced it with his spit, and your cunt throbs at the meticulous approach heâs taken to appreciating every drop you give him.Â
Itâs too meticulous.Â
After another slow, careful, nearly chaste lave of his tongue over the crease between your thigh and your cunt, probably just as soaked with sweat as it is with slick, you retighten your now-loose grip in his hair. Youâd let go of the strands when heâd given you what you wanted, but now you want more, and you lead him straight to your core where heâd been lapping at your thighs instead.
âHere,â You beg, pulling his face against your drooling cunt until youâre certain heâs unable to breathe. You feel his nose breach your slit, nudged into your cunt by your insistent tugging on his hair.
âI need you here, inside, please.â You beg, pussy aching with abandon. His slow, careful ministrations had driven you mad, and now you are teetering on the edge of insanity as you nearly howl, âPlease!â
His response is white-hot and wet. His tongue prods gently from between his lips as his jaw widens, and he watches your reaction as he fills your cunt with his slick tongue. A gush of your own wetness greets him, and as insistent as he is at meeting your eyes, his own flutter shut at the taste.
âForce,â He breathes, and the exclamation is uncommon from him. The muffled, garbled word sends vibrations straight into your cunt, and after the initial shock of his tongue inside of you, you feel his beard.
It scrapes abrasively against the sensitive, licked-over skin of your inner thighs, and prickles deliciously at the base of your leaking cunt. You feel sharp hairs prod at the curve of your ass, and his mouth moves fluidly, tongue wriggling with surprising prowess through the mess of slick youâve accumulated in your cunt. It slides wetly along your inner walls that have made way for his tongue, and that will stretch eagerly to accommodate his cock.Â
His cock, oh, youâd forgotten the thick weight on your tongue, and your jaw aches with the ghost of it. Your cunt aches, too, and when his nose softly bumps your clit you gasp as your hips jolt upwards. He catches your thighs with Jedi agility, his muscles not straining at all to hold you to the mattress. The casual, easy display of strength makes your thighs quiver, and something inside of you tighten like a knot.
He licks you out like heâs drinking ambrosia, the glistening substance smeared over his face and starting up the bridge of his nose. The noises that he makes are hungry and wild as he licks more, sucks more, takes more. Heâd moderated himself at first, lapped the sticky spillings of your wet cunt like he was rationing a meal. Now he feasts, tongue losing focus from inside your pussy and rapidly licking over your clit. His lips suction on and his beard burns tantalizingly at your sloppy cunt. You feel stimulation everywhere, the knot below your belly tightening ever-stronger until you feel the beginnings of a fray. Itâs a step you take, an incline that you scramble up, and each pedestal you achieve gives way to a higher one. You let yourself climb, climb, climb, against every pulse of his suctioned lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves, and you breach the clouds as Obi-Wan broadens his sucking mouth to half-latch to your clit, his tongue delving back into your drooling cunt. You leap for the final pedestal and a surge of pleasure hits you, soaking wet like a wave that you ride back down to the surface.Â
You tremble, you whimper, you love. Your thighs shake, the muscles in your stomach stuttering as your hips jolt and jerk. Your mouth produces such feeble sounds, whines and moans and âOh, please, yesâs, and âObi-Wan- kriff!âs. Your fingers in his hair latch tight but cling gentle, holding him to you as you lose control of yourself in the Force. All of the love, all of the passion, all of the attachment, all of the terrible-horrible-no-good-very-bad-un-Jedi-like things that youâre not supposed to feel surge through the Force and hit Obi-Wan like Coruscantâs train, knocking the wind out of him, though he never stops sucking at you.
Obi-Wan licks you through your orgasm, tongue pressing tight and hot and wet to the quiver of your cunt, letting it spasm against his mouth. He sucks up every last drop of slick that youâll give him, greedily mouthing at your cunt long after itâs begun stinging from oversensitivity. You want his mouth off, and his cock in, although that first part sounds like a heinous thing to wish for. His tongue is perfection, slippery and knowing you well enough to hit just the right spots even though itâs never had you before. You only push his mouth away to beg for his cock, but youâre tempted to let him white out your vision and lick at you until he passes out.
âObi-!â You gasp, pushing instead of pulling at his golden hair, âObi-Wan, no- no more! Here, up- here, please, and I want you inside of me.â
He lets you unlatch him from your pulsing cunt, rife with the sting of stimulation. You need only a matter of seconds to come down from your high, but theyâre seconds you canât afford to spend on Obi-Wanâs tongue, or the clock wonât ever start. He licks at a smear of slick over your thigh that heâd missed earlier, and his brain seems to register your begging.
âAlright, darling,â He pants, out of breath from the way heâd spent it all in your cunt. His voice is ragged, drowned in slick and thick with want.
He clamors back onto the mattress, all humbly-forged muscles and greed. He hovers over you, and dips down to claim your mouth the way he had your cunt: with broad, sweeping swipes of his tongue. He licks your slick across your tongue, letting you taste yourself on him.
âIâm here,â He soothes, his voice a notch deeper than usual and his words malformed due to the open ring of his mouth. He licks against your tongue once more, sloppy and hot, as his hips grind down against your thigh. He knows you need time but he doesnât have long, and he grinds against your hip until youâre ready. You feel his stiff cock digging into your flesh, and it sends pulses of energy to your recovering cunt that make it beg to be filled. Heâs not composed the way that he normally is, but heâs managing to hold himself together through grunts and groans into your mouth. If you donât act fast, heâs going to splatter your stomach with cum, which wouldnât be distasteful by any means, but youâd rather him paint your insides with it.
âYou are intoxicating,â Obi-Wan proclaims, speaking directly into your mouth, an addict that canât wean off of his drug, âI donât know how I am supposed to pretend like this never happened.â
âDonât,â You beg breathlessly, âDonât forget me. Keep quiet around others, and- and when you are alone,â You reach down to take his cock into your hands, heavy and thick and waiting, âWhen you lay in bed at night, when you touch yourself-â He lets out something teetering on the edge of a whimper as you stroke your hand along his flushed length, an angry red coloring the tip that exposes how much self-control heâs composing, â-touch yourself, and- and think of me. Think of my hands, of my mouth, of my cunt. Think of me, Obi-Wan.â
âI will,â He vows, his voice holding like a frayed rope with one thread remaining, strained and pulling and clinging together, âPlease let me have you. Please,â He braces his forehead against yours, his cock throbbing in your palm, âPlease darling, let me in. I want to be inside of you, I want to have you, please.â
Youâve never seen him babble before. Not when heâd been seven years old, bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked, caught with a stray tooka cat in his robes halfway back to the creche. Not when heâd been fifteen and a warrior, his side split open in a gory mess of blood and flesh and lymph and bone. Not at his old masterâs funeral, the light from the pyreâs flames dancing upon his stoic features. Obi-Wan Kenobi is a master at composure, but he is breathless now, sacrificing it to the dewy-warm crease where your neck meets your shoulder, and sucking up your sweat-salty scent in return.
You place your free hand on his back, sticky and flushed beneath your touch, and use it to help guide him into you. Your other hand, still wrapped around his cock, lines it up with your entrance and he needs little coaxing from there. He pushes himself into you slowly, courteously, but loses himself to some deep, primal urge that heâs buried beneath layers of meditation and balance.Â
He comes undone.
His muscles surge and his hips buck in what begins as a steady pace, but transforms into a wild rhythm that pins you against the mattress. He lets out a groan into the sweaty juncture of your neck, something that sounds like it could be from a beast and not a man. You feel the scrape of his beard against the seldom-touched skin there and youâre sure itâs growing raw, but you couldnât care less. Heâs not holding your hips up - his hands are plastered to your side and holding you there with a force carefully and pointedly short of bruising - but you angle your pelvis up anyway, allowing him to hit that much deeper inside of you. The tip of his cock never hurts where it connects briefly each thrust with your cervix, but you feel it intimately, every vein and ridge and curve that his body has to offer.Â
Youâre grateful for the sound-proof walls of the military compound because you realize after a moment that youâre making noise just the same as he is. Itâs softer, quieter, but itâs there, the underlying harmony to his leading grunts and groans.Â
All the while he is soft and gentle, because what he wants is not sex, it is you. Perhaps if he were a lesser man, heâd squeeze you, or bend you, or break you, all to take you the way he wants. But it is the soul inside of you that heâs after, and he takes great care with the vessel itâs enclosed in. He holds you, but he does not squeeze you. He kisses you, but he does not bite you. He moves with you, not against you. Your hips surge upwards to meet the thrusts of his cock and he latches his mouth to yours desperately, pleadingly. Your breathing is short and staccato through your nose, fanning against his top lip as he mashes it messily to your own, and youâre much easier to bring to a climax the second time around, sensitivity still roiling in your blood from your previous orgasm.
âObi-Wan,â You beg, the words spilling languidly into his mouth, as you move in tandem, in, out, in, out, forwards, backwards, everything, nothing.
âObi- Iâm gonna- ooh, Iâm gonna cum,â You cry, overwhelmed by the consistent drag of his cock against the walls of your soaked cunt. Youâre slick again, gushing enough to replenish however much Obi-Wan had licked out of you. It squelches as he drives his dick into your pussy, foamy from the repetitive motions that are only creating it at faster intervals.
âPlease- please do,â He moans, his dick twitching inside of you, âForce, I- ah, thereâs nothing I want more than to feel that, darling. Please- please cum, please-â
âKiss me,â You plead, even though heâs never stopped, if the way that his mouth moves against yours can still be considered a kiss. Itâs far from any conventional peck on the lips, mostly tongue and drool that seeps down the side of your mouth and into your neck, mixing with the sweat already lingering there from your workout.
He tries kissing you more neatly, his lips tightening and suctioning around your own, but the closer you both get to your impending orgasms, the sloppier his thrusts are, and the more slack his mouth goes, smothering your own instead of truly kissing it while his tongue continues its dogged pursuit of your own. Itâs no matter; his spit leaks uncontrollably into your mouth and you relish the taste. You donât need perfection, you need him.
You canât help your wandering hand from snaking down to his waist, curving just below his cock to cradle his balls against your palm. Theyâre heavy and warm as you take them into your hand, and doing so elicits a gasp from the man chasing his release inside of you, his hips stuttering in their pursuit of the wet warmth of your cunt. You squeeze them, not harshly, just a gentle compression, and Obi-Wan melts. A whimper escapes his lips, still slack and pressed to your own, and though his thrusts momentarily slow, they resume at double the pace. Heâs rapidly bucking his hips now, barely containing himself enough to lift one hand off of your side and bring it to your chest. He fits his palm over one of your breasts, your stiff, sensitive nipple caving against his palm. You gasp at the prickling sensation and your fingernails momentarily dig into his back, but when his dick twitches once more inside of you, desperate, fit-to-burst, you drag them down his back in searing red lines.
If you hadnât been able to feel Obi-Wan cum inside of you, youâd have known it was happening from the cry he releases alone. Itâs abrupt, like his orgasm catches him off-guard even though heâs been pursuing it. But you can feel it, you can feel his warm cum ooze out of the head of his cock, momentarily stationary as itâs snug against your cervix. You feel it gush from his dick, filling any and all available space in your pulsating cunt before flooding outwards, dripping down your ass and thighs in an obscene display that soaks right into your bedsheets. Obi-Wan rides out his climax at a pace rapid enough to coax your second one out of you, and you welcome the now-familiar sensation of cumming around Obi-Wan. Itâs mind-numbing, your ears ring for a faint moment, and your cunt rapidly clenches and unclenches around his cock thatâs all too happy to continue occupying the space.
He grunts, moans, and groans as his sloppy thrusts finally slow, and your cunt appreciates the reduced pace. Youâre well and truly spent, difficult to achieve for someone whoâd gone through endurance training since childhood, and youâre not surprised that Obi-Wan, too, needs a break. He lowers himself to your chest with a slow, shaky exhale, eyes closed and face glistening with sweat just as your own does.Â
His beard grates roughly against your skin, shifted with every ragged breath that he draws in. His hair spills over the breast that his mouth isnât nestled beside, and you stare down at his face, marveling how beautiful his barely-fluttering lashes and heaving chest are.
Before he opens his eyes he angles it towards you, so that the first thing he sees is your flushed, sweaty, open-mouthed expression. Heâs in the perfect position to kiss the side of your breast, and it tingles with the phantom sensation of his palm flat against your perked nipple barely minutes before. His beard scrapes your skin like it has since you first kissed him, and you wonder if youâll ever be able to live happily without the scratch of it against your cheeks, or thighs, for that matter. The skin between your legs is still raw, stinging with the friction of Obi-Wanâs coarse hair against your flesh..
âYou look beautiful, darling,â He hums, his voice grated raw from fatigue. His breath fans hot over your chest, but he pushes himself up on his tired biceps to hover over you. His weight against you had been comforting, but his gaze is even more so, and you let him loom over you.
His chest, peppered with auburn curls so fine they glisten in the poor lighting of your quarters, rises and falls deeply in front of you. You have half a mind to bury your face in it; you might if his face wasnât impossibly more captivating.
His eyes search yours, for what youâre not sure, but you realize that his breathing gets more shallow until his chest stills completely. He only releases his breath when you reach up to thumb gently at his sternum, loosening his lungs again.
âDo you regret it?â
You suppose you didnât have to ruin the moment so harshly, but you want to know the truth. You want to know if this was worth it, or if youâre going on the list of regrets that Obi-Wan pours over obsessively.
He takes a moment to answer, but you suspect itâs because heâs been caught off guard by your question. He shakes his head, dipping his face down to kiss the swell of your cheek.
âNo, I donât.â He mumbles against the dewy skin of your face, hiding his words there in self-preservation. You kiss the fleeting scruff of his beard as he pulls away, and your eyes find the blue of his instantly.
âYou needed convincing at first,â You recall warily, something sinking in your chest now that youâre not puppettered by lust, âAre you certain it was the right thing to do?â
âNot at all,â He admits, âIn fact, I think it was wrong of me. But Iâve done it anyways, and I am happy for that.â
âWhy wrong?â You ghost your knuckles against his cheek, and he leans into it like he used to do when youâd clean scrapes and cuts heâd acquire while sparring.Â
âI am more attached to you now than ever,â He offers simply, but it doesnât seem like it pains him to confess. He seems lighter now, less embroiled in his own anxiety. âAnd Iâm not certain I can keep my personal feelings- well, personal. I donât know that I could think rationally about you. Thatâs not desirable to the Order, or to the war effort.â
You bite your tongue, teeth digging softly into its muscle.
âAll the same,â He continues, âJedi are not without attachments. Younglings form friendships in the creche, and their minders love them. Padawans love their Masters, and vice versa. Masters engage in relations,â He acknowledges, then his brows tick up and he considers, âKi Adi Mundi has four wives. Perhaps Iâm not the most blasphemous Jedi theyâve ever seen.â
A laugh comes tumbling from your lips before you can stop it, and Obi-Wanâs face softens into a grin of his own.
âFive,â You correct him, âHe has five wives.â
âForce, heâs a heretic,â Obi-Wan exclaims, but itâs all for show; he holds no ill opinions of the council member.
âIâm happy for his wives,â You hum, the sound just short of a giggle, âBut I prefer your beard over his.â
âOh, but heâs got a better mustache than me,â Obi-Wan settles on his side facing you, a smile etched permanently into his features as he plays along with the banter youâve started. He relishes its lighthearted nature compared to the hesitance of moments prior, âMaybe I should grow it out and curl it like his.â
Before you can offer him another round in exchange for a promise to never shape his facial hair around Master Mundiâs, the walls of your compound give a creaky grinding sound, then a rumble, and air whooshes through the vents youâve come to loathe for their uselessness in the recent past.
âHe did it!â You gawk, sitting up excitedly, nearly forgetting that youâre topless, âOh Force, Anakinâs a wizard! He really is, heâs a mechanical wizard, and Iâm going to buy him a speeder for this.â
âDo not,â Obi-Wan groans, sitting up beside you and tugging you easily to fit your back against his chest, âThe last thing that boy needs is the ability to go faster.â
âHe did it,â You sigh happily, leaning back and pressing your lips to Obi-Wanâs. He reciprocates easily now, unlike before when heâd run himself ragged with doubts.
âThat means weâll be off soon,â Obi-Wan reminds you gently, and you deflate slightly in his hold, âBut I donât think comming each other should be any issue.â
âEvery night?â You suggest, kissing at the prickly cleft of his chin.
âThatâs- ambitious.â He chuckles, but itâs not meant to tease, âEvery night, darling.â
âYou can send me dirty videos,â You gush, scrambling to free yourself from Obi-Wanâs hold when he tries locking his fingers onto your sides, nipping sharply at your shoulder.
âI will not!â He insists, voice firm but chest trembling with barely-withheld laughter, âForce, if I pressed the wrong buttonâŠâ
âPerhaps Master Mundi could share it with one of his wives,â You laugh, scrambling back into your underclothes and heading for the fresher to clean yourself up, âHurry up and get dressed, Obi-Wan, one of my troopers is probably on their way to tell us the good news!â
Your suspicions are confirmed only moments later, thankfully, after youâve both had time to right your appearances. You look flushed and sweaty, if anything, but the cool air hasnât managed to flood the entire compound yet, and youâve been exercising, so itâs excusable. No one but you two needs to know that exercising didnât mean sparring for longer than ten minutes.
âAnakin, youâre fantastic,â You call, rushing through the empty hangar where heâs standing near the ramp of the ship, âYouâve saved us all. Iâm fairly certain my troops would have resorted to fratricide if weâd had to melt here for any longer.â
The padawan gives you a valiant effort at a polite chuckle, and you press on, âFor the record, I told your master Iâd get you a speeder for helping us today, but he said no.â
âY/N,â Obi-Wan starts, exasperated, but catches himself on the use of your first name. Perhaps it feels different now, coming out of his mouth much more measured than it had only twenty minutes prior. He doesnât speak further.
Anakinâs eyes briefly glint at the fantasy of his own speeder, but he controls himself quickly. Heâs a credit to his master, who manages to look convincingly like he hadnât just broken a very long streak of celibacy. Still, you appreciate that war hasnât managed to suck the most basic of excitements out of the child, and you reach up to pat his cheek in a gesture distinctly un-Jedi like.Â
âTake care of yourself, and donât let Obi-Wan bore you with a million lectures on economics, or politics, or the two combined.â
Anakin nods, but bites his lower lip to refrain from smirking, saving himself a lecture on sass later on. You hear Obi-Wan exhale huffily behind you, and you turn your attention to him when Anakin retreats onto the ship.
âIâd appreciate it if you didnât add to my apprenticeâs willfulness,â He grouses, but the corner of his mouth twitches upwards in fondness for you both, âHeâs got enough of that on his own.â
âTake care of yourself,â You ignore his teasing, your voice tender and sweet, slightly more than it had been for Anakin, âI know they donât send you out much, because heâs only fourteen, but- but please take care of yourself, Obi-Wan.â
Perhaps if Anakin hadnât been lingering on the ramp of the ship, perhaps if there werenât five clone troopers stationed in the hangar, perhaps if you were the only two people in the world, like it had felt less than an hour ago, Obi-Wan would have kissed you. But he doesnât, all he does is nod,Â
âWe will,â He vows, and you nod, satisfied.
âI mean it,â You continue, more threatening than your earlier sentiment, âComm me.â And you think back to the request youâd made earlier, breathlessly, the words fanning out against his sweaty skin, âAnd⊠think of me.â
You know heâs recalling the same moment in time when his cheeks tinge pink.
âI will,â He promises, singular this time, confirming your suspicions that his mind is flashing with visions of your flushed skin beneath his hands, âAnd please take care of yourself, too, General.â
Something hard and aching tugs at the back of your throat at the honorific, such a far cry from the intimacy youâd shared. But now you are General Y/L/N, and he is Master Kenobi, and that is the way things must be in the presence of others.
âMaster Kenobi,â You bow, bending at the waist and noting the soft tug of soreness there.
âGeneral Y/L/N,â Obi-Wan mimics your gesture, hands folded neatly into the sleeves of his robes.
He turns. He pivots on his feet and strides up the ramp of the ship theyâd taken, Anakin waiting until heâs passed through the doorway to follow behind him. The door hisses shut, concealing them both, and the mechanical whiz-kid has the engines powered up in no time. You watch their ship take flight and navigate the narrow entrance to your hangar with ease, waiting until theyâve passed each temperature-isolating layer of defense that enshroud your compound and disappear into the planetâs heat-hazy atmosphere to turn away.
âGeneral,â One of your troopers lingers behind you, âIs everything alright?â
âYes,â You put on a convincing show, smiling serenely, âIâd just forgotten how much of a challenge sparring with Master Kenobi is. Iâm fatigued; I think Iâll retire to my quarters for some rest.â
âGeneral,â He nods, stating your title like a vow of loyalty, standing at attention as the hangar doors finally shut you in.Â
You walk the familiar path to your sparse quarters absentmindedly, feeling that same twinge of achiness each time you take a step. Only once your door hisses shut do you release the prim tension in your shoulders, slumping and slouching like youâd just escaped the throes of battle.Â
There is a shirt on your bed.
Itâs white, though itâs been worn thoroughly, so the color is muddied ever so slightly with the tan tinge of sweat. Itâs rumpled, from a hasty removal. Itâs laid over your poor excuse for a blanket, cream-colored against the starkly contrasting black fabric. Itâs impossible to miss, which means it had to have been placed there deliberately; it wasnât forgotten.
Itâs Obi-Wanâs.
You overcome your momentary stun and pad towards the bed, reaching for the shirt with a hesitant hand. You take it, feel it ever-so-slightly damp with lingering perspiration, and your stomach flips.
Itâs Obi-Wanâs; itâs yours.
The shirt winds up snug around your pillow, tucked beneath the Republic-issue linen. Itâs invisible to the outside eye, but when your nose is pressed gauchely into the pillowcase you can smell Obi-Wan through it, a mix of natural and artificial scents.
The musk of cologne and the acrid smell of sweat. Composure and lust. What is right and what is wrong.
You and Obi-Wan.
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
#obi-wan kenobi x reader#obi-wan kenobi smut#obi-wan kenobi fanfiction#obi-wan kenobi imagine#obi-wan kenobi fluff#obi-wan kenobi oneshot#obi-wan kenobi one-shot#obi-wan kenobi one shot#obi-wan kenobi headcanon#obi-wan kenobi headcanons#obi-wan kenobi hcs#obi-wan kenobi hc#obi-wan kenobi fan fiction#obi-wan kenobi fanfic#obi-wan kenobi blurb#obi-wan kenobi drabble#obi-wan kenobi dialogue#obi-wan kenobi x y/n#obi-wan kenobi x you
926 notes
·
View notes
Text
sorry not sorry but im getting professor!ani vibes from this pic LIKE HELLO????? HAVE MY BABIES???? why is he dressed like this.
#star wars anakin#anakin fanfiction#anakin skywalker#anakin smut#anakin x reader#anakin x you#hayden christensen#star wars#aesthetic#anakin and ahsoka#anakin skywalker fanfic#anakin skywalker fanfiction#sw anakin#anakin skywalker one shot#obi wan and anakin#anakin and padme#anakin imagine#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker hcs#anakin skywalker blurb#anakin skywalker headcannon#anakin skywalker drabble#anakin skywalker oneshot#anakin skywalker fic#have my babies#hayden christensen i want you#hayden christensen x you#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen smut#hayden christensen imagine
210 notes
·
View notes
Text
When obi wan met cody or: the story why obi wan loves him so much.
A very short story by: me
Obi wan suddenly, dramatically throws his robe down and yells into the skies: WHY IS EVERYONE IN THIS FREAKING GALAXY A KRIFFIN LUNATICK EVEN THE FORCE?! *sinking his shoulders sadly* why am i the only normal reasonable adult here? *sniff*
His robe then is picked up by a pair of gloved hands. Cody, picks it up and hands it to him then calmly crosses his arms behind his back.
Cody: Here you dropped this sir :) My name is marshall commander cody, i am assigned to you as your commander :)
Obi wan:
Obi *whisper*: a normal reasonable adult?!
Cody: oh thank the maker i didn't want to be so forward at our first meeting but yes oh finally A NORMAL PERSON. *leans in and whispers behind held out hand* these lunaticks here all all out of their minds aren't they?
Obi with teary eyes: YESSSS!
*edit
They both then proceeded to sing barbie as the princess and the paupers: i'm just like you (yes with performance)
And since this day they are unseperable. Two tired adults drinking their Whiskey adorned morning coffee and silently judging everyone else around them
They are staring. Furociously. Everbody knows
#it is very and i repeat very important for me to note that obi wan was the pink princess and cody the blue one#actually are they really this normal? probably not#obi:i'm just like you cody: you're just like me both together: we take responcibility#they also were holding hands while singing to each other#everyone was looking like tf these two doing#they're having a (gay) orchestral awakening and they have to express it leave them alone-rex or anakin probably#and that ladies and gentlemen is the story of why obi wan cherishes cody so much#star wars#star wars prequels#obi wan kenobi#star wars fandom#attack of the clones#revenge of the sith#the phantom menace#anakin skywalker#space jesus#the clone wars#commander cody#cc 2224#captain rex#star wars shenanigans#incorrect quotes#star wars blurb
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
@augusnippets day 13: drugging
tw: drug-like effects, implied physical abuse, concussion, implied amputation, implied dehumanization, gaslighting
Obi-Wan feels like he might be sick, but not because of the concussion or the splitting pain in his hands.
It shouldâve been Rex.
Those words keep him rooted to the spot despite Rexâs and Codyâs attempts to drag him away from the landing zone, toward the medical tent. His head is pounding and his nonexistent fingers ache, but his physical suffering pales in comparison to the maelstrom of horrific realization raging through his system.
The clones are so achingly good, brighter even than the light of the Force, and that Anakin, a Jedi, could possibly see them as less valuableâ
It hurts, tears at the fragile seams of Obi-Wanâs heart.
And Rexâ
The press of the captainâs body against his own is steady, like an immovable boulder in the midst of a roiling sea, accepting every blow with grace and resignation. Itâs more than he should have to bear.
Obi-Wanâs breath grows ragged. âIf you think it should've been Rex, then you're not the man I thought you were.â
Thereâs a sharp intake of breath beside him, and Obi-Wan can feel the intensity of Rexâs eyes on him, even if he canât see it.
Anakin stops, turns, the scowl on his face prominent. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âA Jedi is selfless, prioritizes others over themself. Youââ
Obi-Wan falters as a strange ripple in the Force washes over him. The energy is heavy, with an edge that sinks itself beneath his flesh, digs its claws into his bones. Suddenly, Obi-Wanâs thoughts feel distorted, warped by a layer of film, and he lists, his weight sagging deeper into Rexâs grip.
He barely catches Anakinâs affronted âWhat, youâre saying Iâm not a Jedi?â over Rexâs concerned âGeneral?â
Obi-Wan groans. His head is spinning, and itâs nothing at all like the nausea from the concussion.
âIâm sayingââ His voice sounds wrong. He breathes, starts again. ïżœïżœïżœIâm saying that your sentiment sounds more like the deceptive influence of the Dark Side.â
Thereâs a sharp intake of breath, and Obi-Wan finally registers PadmĂ©âs paralyzed form standing off to the side, the slight tremble in her hands as her gaze flicks nervously toward her husband, the greenish tinge of a bruise barely visible beneath her smeared makeup. It dawns on him, then, that perhaps his former padawanâs biggest lie had been right under his nose this whole time.
He needs to put voice to this realization, but the fog is settling over his brain, making it difficult to string together a coherent sentence. Gently, Rex rests a hand beneath his jaw, guides his face toward his. A blurry blonde mass swims in his vision.
âWhatâs wrong?â Rex asks, voice distorted, distant.
Itâs Anakin, Obi-Wan wants to say. And maybe he does, because another decidedly more rough hand replaces Rexâs, yanks his head around.
In the sunlight, Anakinâs brown eyes look tauntingly golden-yellow. âObi-Wan, youâre not thinking straight. I donât care if you have to drag him kicking and screaming, just get him to medical.â
The black ebb of unconsciousness pulls him down, and the last thing Obi-Wan feels is the press of Rexâs arms around his waist.
#by stationary_cycle#augusnippets day 13#star wars#star wars fanfiction#obi wan kenobi#captain rex#anakin skywalker#blurb#snippet#augusnippets#Obi wan/padme/rex
20 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey!! I doubt you're ever going to see this cause I'm sure theres a lot of people asking for things but imma ask anyways :)
Can you do some fluffy/romantic obi-wan kenobi headcanons? I luv your stuff!!
Thanks so much Anon! definitely had to do this because iâve been so down bad for Obi lately (ask @letusbeseventeen, bro knows how much i simp for him)
Fluff headcanons [ow. kenobi]
wordcount: 443
content/warnings: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF i went crazy for these
first of all FIRST OF ALL let's talk about hand kisses
it's been a headcanon of mine for like years that Obiwan would kiss your hand like a prince/princess/royalty whenever leaving or seeing you again (it makes me blush at the thought ngl)
Obiwan would also love hugging you, like after coming back from a mission heâll just hold his arms out to hug you, maybe spin you a little, then give you a kiss on the forehead
Obiwan would definitely call you âdarlingâ, âdearâ or âmy loveâ but heâll probably say âsweetheartâ from time to time also
Obiwan would be the type of guy to ask you for a kiss like âmay i?â with the cutest cheesiest grin on his faceÂ
Heâd love comforting you whenever you're sad. Heâd try to talk to you to see what's wrong/how he can help. Bunch of cuddles!
heâd kiss your tears away and just give you words of affirmation because hes cute like that
speaking of cuddles, heâd love those anytime of day for real especially since the relationship has to be secret
OH MY GOD but Obiwan giving you hugs from behind like he would. he would.Â
like if you're working or talking to someone (preferably Anakin or Ahsoka) heâll just sneak up behind you and give you a squeeze
Obiwan would also be sarcastic in a goofy tease way and you guys would go back and forth as a joke (bro would say the smartest shit)
Heâd also use the force in such a cute way like if he finds a flower, or a little hair decor, heâd float it and tuck it in your hair
or heâd use it to make you float from time to time (for fun unless you're scared of heights)
Obiwan would be so attentive like he would just know what things you like or donât like and sometimes heâd be like âremember the time where-â and goes on and on about a particular memoryÂ
Heâd be that guy to smile, blush and giggle to himself when you walk into a room (hc that when hes flustered his ears get red too)
Youâd always try to get Obiwan to sleep bc poor old man needs some rest
OOO YOU GUYS WOULD ALSO TRAIN TOGETHER!Â
Just like babygirl din djarin, Obiwan would also be extremely touch starved because I mean jedi aren't even allowed to have attachments so heâll always try to hold you whenever he's able (bros kinda clingy)
Would definitely be that one to dance with you in the rain
and take care of you if you got sick from being in the rain <3
#starwars#imagines#headcanons#obi wan kenobi#obi wan kenobi headcanon#obi wan kenobi fluff#star wars imagines#drabbles#star wars headcanons#star wars fic#obi wan kenobi fanfiction#star wars fanfiction#obi wan kenobi x reader#obi wan kenobi x you#blurbs#fluff
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
[ ESCORT ] : sender accompanies the receiver home late at night, in order to ensure they're safe.
A/n: Thank you for the wonderful prompts! Iâm so happy.
âYou do not have to do this you know.â
Tipping his head towards you, Obi-Wan gave you a gentle smile. His hands clasped behind his back as he stayed by your side as he walked you back to your courters.
âNonsense. What kind of Jedi would I by if I did make sure the Princess safely returned to her room.â
Laughing, you shook your head as you crossed your hands in front of your chest. You were both now in front of your door. âThat so, well since you were so helpful. Would you like to join me for a drink.â
Obi-Wan knew what you were hinting that.The man wasnât stupid, he could have sworn that Padame use the same excuse on Anakin.A smart man would leave, a Jedi would have a scolded you.
But for you, oh he would do anything for you. If he could give you the stars if he could. A slow smile forming on his face as he closed the space between the two of you. âIt would be an honor to have a drink with you.â
Humming in satisfaction you held your head up high opening the door as you both stumbled into your room.
Drinks wonât be the only thing you would be sharing with him tonight.
#drabbles#drabble#blurb#blurbs#obi wan kenobi#obi wan x you#obi wan x reader#obi wan x y/n#obi wan kenobi x reader#obi wan kenobi x you#obi wan kenobi imagine#star wars#star wars obi wan#star wars x y/n#star wars x reader#star wars x you#requests#request
134 notes
·
View notes
Text
Good evening? Afternoon, good morning. Hello there, my fellow Jedi, Sith, Mandalorians and so forth.
I got this thing from Reddit, but: Bleh.đđ» I want to talk about something important, something I hold close and dear to my heart, and that would be Anakinâs war crimes! What are your favorite war crimes?
This is a SW blog, but most importantly, an Anakin blog, like the Anakin safe space. Because I love him, and I let yâall visit.
We support the actions of Anakin Skywalker here, and that includes all war crimes. Even asking him if he wants to go on a hot date to a kindergarten, but I digress.
So yes, please, every participation is welcome.
I do ask that you reblog this post for a wider range/audience and more participants.
đ«¶đ»âšđ
#after I pick favorite ones Iâll make a pole#anakinâs war crimes#anakin skywalkker#ask anakin#anakin blurb#anakin and padme#anakinblr#sw#tcw#star wars#star wars tumblr#star wars prequel trilogy#sw prequel trilogy#prequels#sw prequels#star wars prequels#star wars the clone wars#star wars clone wars#the clone wars#padme amidala#anidala#obi wan kenobi#ahsoka tano#ahsoka#ashoka tano#starwars#starwarsblr#darth vader#lord vader#luke skywalker
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Naboo Dream | A Star Wars Story AU
Pairing: Nikolai Skywalker x Amelia Colter
Fic Type: Star Wars AU
Extra Characters: Obi Wan, R2D2, The Young Avengers
Setting: The Clone Wars Era
-----
As the twin suns of Naboo cast their warm glow across the lush landscape, Anakin Skywalker's younger brother, Nikolai, arrived on the serene planet. Sent on a mission by the Jedi Council to assist in the protection of Naboo, his senses were heightened as he explored the beautiful surroundings of the royal palace.
Guided by duty, Nikolai wandered through the ornate corridors, his Jedi instincts attuned to any potential threats. It was then that he stumbled upon a captivating sightâa young woman with long, flowing brown hair, gazing wistfully out of a window.
She turned, revealing a delicate face adorned with subtle makeup, her eyes sparkling with an unknown intrigue. A small smile graced her lips as she nodded in acknowledgment of Nikolai presence, leaving him momentarily spellbound.
But his training kicked in, his guard remaining vigilant as he continued his scouting mission. Throughout the day, he found himself crossing paths with the mysterious young woman, always at the periphery of his vision.
In the stables, she tended to gentle creatures with grace and compassion. In the garden, she sat among the vibrant blooms, a vision of serenity. And later, in the bustling mess hall, their paths crossed once more, her presence like a whisper in the Force.
With each encounter, Nikolai curiosity grew, drawn to this enigmatic figure who seemed to be everywhere yet remained shrouded in mystery. Little did he know, their fateful meeting would set into motion a tale of destiny and devotion in a galaxy far, far away.
âââ
As chaos unfolded in the marketplace, he found himself in the midst of a pursuit, his lightsaber drawn as he chased after the thieves. Through the bustling crowd and into the verdant expanse of the forest, his senses honed in on the task at hand.
Amidst the flurry of activity, he spotted an Orbak galloping wildly, its rider desperately trying to regain control. Without hesitation, Nikolai sprang into action, using the Force to guide him towards the chaotic scene.
With swift movements, he managed to calm the rampaging creature, his eyes meeting those of its riderâa familiar face from his past. It was her, the mysterious woman from Tatooine, now revealed in her true form, her natural beauty shining through.
Memories flooded back as they locked eyes, recalling their chance encounter years ago amidst the sands of Tatooine. She had been one of the decoys, dressed in vibrant hues of orange and white, leaving him with a bracelet as a token of their brief encounter.
Now, in this moment of shared danger, she offered him a ring from her home planet of Naboo, a gesture of gratitude for his assistance. Yet, their exchange was interrupted by the Orbak's restless movements, reminding them of the urgency of the situation.
With a gentle smile, he addressed her, his voice calm amidst the chaos. The two stood together amidst the lush forest of Naboo, their destinies intertwined once more in the vast tapestry of the Force.
"Are you alright, miss?" he asked, with concern genuine.Â
âIâm alright but you nearly tighten the life out of him.â She responded.Â
âWho?âÂ
âThe creature your friends were chasing. What has he ever done to you that you must chase him about?â
He chuckled at that, petting the Orbak she rode on as he said, âI must confess, I never met him before. A friend of yours?â
âNo.â She replied chuckling, pushing hair out of her face, âMost creates the ideals of Naboo as a noble place, and so is itâs creature who stole from the market.â
âStealing is wrong.â
âNot when theyâre not given the amount to pay for their food.â
âAh, I see. Fair by all means then. Miss, what do they call you?â
As she smiled her cheekbones lit up like the stars at night.Â
She hummed for a moment, âYou really donât know?â
âThatâs why I asked.â He responded with a blushing smile.
âAmelia..Amelia, thatâs all youâll get.â
âLovely name. You shouldnât be this deep in the forest alone.â
âIâm not alone, Iâm with you. Mrs..I mean, Jedi.â
âYou donât remember?â
âI do.â
âSo why you ask such a question?â
âTo play the fool and get your answer.â
Years ago on the sandy lands, they would play as the older Jedi and driods would roll around talking. He was helping his older brother in a speed race in Tatooine, in hopes to win, as she accompany her older sisters as one of decoy queens to see the people there.Â
âMy, have you grown.â She asked with a giggle.Â
âAhh so you do remember, Mia.â He added with a wink.
âHush, not so loud. Iâm supposed to be working. I see you were working too.â
âDefine work.â
âHilarious.â
âI was entrusted to watch over Naboo grounds for a while. Keep the crown space from any spice runners who would sell it for parts.â
âI see you brought R2 with you.â
Nikolai turned around confused for a moment, as he then saw the white and blue driod rolling up to them in concern beeps asking where they headed of to. Nikolai muttered how he was fine and go tell Obi Wan that things will be alright. However R2 beeps otherwise that he rather stay.
âDoes he treat you fair R2?â She asked the driod with a teasing tone.
He beeps twice.
âOh really? You need some rest then.â
He beep again.
âHe thinks about me and visiting the 7 wonders of the galaxy.â
Nikolai gasped and scoffed, âI never once said that! On the contrary, you must been thinking about me, if you remember my driod so well.â
She giggled and huffed a breathe, âI wonât confirm or deny it, my lord.â
âCheeky respond for a princess.â
âAnd one for a Jedi.â
He nods with a lovely smile, âClever. Very clever. I am a fine Jedi if you ask anyone.â
âOne full of pride if you ask me.â She added giggling some more.
âYou think youâre funny.â
âI think Iâm honest. Meanwhile your a cheeky little soliderâ
âI beg your pardon?â
Despite what he said, he couldnât help but laugh as a smile spread on his face. He shook his head having not felt this way in a while. Without a second later, he offered to lead the way back to the castle as their banter contain between them.Â
As they contained their laughter to themselves, quiet blushing banter and witty comments that was upmost challenging, one canât deny the chemistry between the pair.
A Jedi & A Princess.Â
Oh dear tiff..
âŠhe shot up awaken from the sounds of the TV. The volume was high and guns were blasting, as the Jedis and Sith fought against one another on screen. He realized he was back in the living room, with tossed hair, a blanket over his body and a tray of popcorn over his lap.Â
It was a dream. Or was it?
He looked over to see Arrow, his dog, on the ground playing with his chew toy, being a Falcon plushie. Liane was half paying attention as she was texting, Cole and Jeremy were cuddling on the couch next to him. Ethan on the ground eating some chips. Rochelle was half asleep on Michelleâs lap as the blonde girl was talking over the movie.
Nikolai then allowed himself to take a breath, rubbing his eyes and sighed. He remembered he was watching Star Wars with the gang. He wondered where the rest of the gang was. He assumed in the kitchen, as he excuse himself to grab some water and head over to the kitchen. There he found Rick and Luna chilling, eating extra slices of pizza. Finlay and Rose chatting about something.Â
But Mia was no where to be found.Â
He headed to the hallway only to have a pair of brown-green eyes bump into his chest. He heard her high pitched âOof!â As he looked down to meet his loveâs face who pushed her glasses upwards, she watched him with a small dazes, as if she can tell he was thinking.
âWhat happened?â She asked.
At the same time he asked, âWhere did you go?â
The two chuckled awkwardly at the exchanged.Â
âI went to use the bathroom and then checked on the kids in the other room. Rochelleâs twins were fighting over a toy, Riley was dancing to Frozen, meanwhile Joshua was in his playpen watching the Tv and playing with his toy starfish.â She explained with a shrug smiling.
âYikes! I hope things went alright.â He repiled chuckling, thinking he should take the next round on check in on the kids afterwards.
âYeah, I handled it. Whatâs on your mind?â
âI had a dream.â
âTell me about it.â
âItâs silly really.â
âBaby, come on, I wanna hear about it.â
âOkay fine, just know, it felt so real.â
He took her hand, leading the girl to the living room telling her about his Star Wars theme dream. He even mentioned how he wanted to be Anakin and Padme next halloween as she laughed nodding.
------
â> Thanks for reading. Thatâs what I got! Comment down below with ideas and reblog your thoughtsÂ
Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @cherrysft @thechoooooosenone @luna-d-marsh @sherloquestea and etc
#star wars the clone wars#star wars oc#star wars au#star wars prequels#ask missparker#Star Wars blurb#marvel ocs#marvel fic#star wars fic#obi wan kenobi#the young avengers#agents of shield
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
Êâ ÂŽâ âąâ ᎄâ âąâ `â Ê
HELLO EVERYONE!
My name is Julia, you can call me Jules, Jule or yours.
This is my first time writing, so please be kind.
This post is just my boundaries in writing and who and what I write for!
FANDOM:
PEAKY BLINDERS
STAR WARS
MARAUDERS
MARVEL
TOPGUN
WHO:
PB: ARTHUR, TOMMY, JOHN, ADA, FINN, POLLY, ISIAH, BONNIE AND LIZZIE.
SW: ANAKIN, OBI WAN, PADME, LEIA, DARTH VADER AND POE.
MARAUDERS: LILY, JAMES, REMUS, SIRIUS, PETER, DORCAS AND MARLENE.
MARVEL: IRONMAN, BLACK WIDOW, SCARLET WITCH, SPIDERMAN (ANDREW AND TOM), MJ, GWEN AND CAPTAIN AMERICA.
TG: MAVERICK, GOOSE, ICEMAN, HANGMAN, COYOTE, BOB, ROOSTER, PHOENIX.
BOUNDARIES:
Smut is definitely okay but I may suck at writing it so beware!
No requests sexualizing rape and SA.
Always be kind!
I am okay with writing for actors.
I love platonic requests so don't be afraid to send those in.
I genuinely can't think of anything else so I will update if I can remember.
Please do send in requests if you're a part of ANY of these fandoms, I would appreciate any opportunity to improve my writing skills!
Love,
Cupid xx
#tommy shelby#james potter x reader#peaky blinders fanfiction#arthur shelby#thomas shelby x reader#jake seresin x you#top gun blurb#thomas shelby imagine#marvel#anakin skywalker x reader#obi wan x reader#top gun maverick#maverick x reader#tommy shelby x reader#writing
15 notes
·
View notes
Note
Oh my goodness please please đș with Obi please
I swear to god Obi Wan giving head takes up like 75% of the space in my brain! đș: how they eat pussy
warnings: oral!fem reviving, AFAB!reader, fingering, Iâm high and wrote this in 15 mins thatâs the biggest warning
There are people who eat pussy like they're starving. Sloppy and rushed, like theyâve been wandering through the harshest of deserts for days and between your legs lies an oasis.
 But not Obi Wan.
Obi Wan eats you out with the utmost precision, every lick, every hot breath fanning against your cunt is perfectly calculated to make you fall apart just how he wants you to.Â
Oh and how he loves to make you fall apart!Â
Heâll dip the tip of his tongue between your folds, tracing and licking everywhere but where you need him. Heâll lick broad stirpes against you as he fucks you with his thick fingers, beckoning you closer and closer to the edge each time he hits that spot inside you.
 And oh how he moans into you like youâre the most krifing delicious thing heâs ever tasted, pulling you closer by your thighs and letting his beard chafe them red.
Itâs not till youâre begging, pleading for your release, threading yourself fingers through his strawberry blonde locks and tugging for dear life that heâll finally relent, sucking on the bud of your clit as his fingers thrust into you.
Obi Wan has never failed to leave you with a leg shaking orgasm and his teasing, satisfied smile.
#Smut#emoji request#obi wan kenobi#obi wan#obi wan smut#x reader#blurb#obi wan blurb#x reader blurb#Obi wan x reader smut#star wars#Star Wars blurb
131 notes
·
View notes
Note
a major obi-wan thought on my bedtime rotation is the idea of sparring with him like that scene from miss congeniality WOAHHH another would be the interrogation with reader being a potential spy idk maybe i just find interrogations sexy.. and u cant go wrong with the classic mean obi wan taming a brat reader whose perhaps his padawan or an unruly senator under his protection ELITEEE
if you want sparring with obi-wan, you can check out my fic betrayal, that was meant to be a quick and dirty 200 words and ended up being a 17K porn novel <3 i totally agree with you on the interrogation front, i swear with the way he holds eye contact with jango in aotc i'm surprised the guy's pants didn't drop of their own accord. all that to say i've chosen the senator plotline <3
this post is 18+, minors dni.
You're not entirely sure how the Force works, but you're willing to bet that it opened its big fat mouth and told your overzealous security guard that you were trying to escape. You made sure to be deadly silent, and you'd blocked the cameras set up to monitor your bedroom, so you know he hadn't seen or heard you. Nevertheless, he stands in your bedroom doorway looking very unimpressed by the one leg you've managed to weasel through your window.
"Tell me, Senator," He calls, voice purposefully casual, like you're not bisected by a pane of glass, "Are you trying to kill yourself so that no one else gets the chance?"
"I'm not going to die." You insist, moving further still out of the window, "I'm going to take a walk."
"How many stories up are we? Two hundred?" Master Kenobi asks, this time stepping forwards into your room. He approaches your window but doesn't grab you, merely staring down at the very long distance between you and the ground.
"One-hundred-and-eight." You grunt, your strength waning the more you hang from the ledge of your window. He notices the strain in your voice, but prolongs your suffering with a thoughtful nod.
"Yes, right. I think that's a wonderful coincidence, then, seeing as how that's the number of bones you're going to break if you fall."
"I'm not going to- fall-!" You gasp at the feeling of your foot slipping against the balcony below you, but you're actually thankful for the Force now that it fuels Obi-Wan's quick reflexes. He dives to catch you, and hauls you up by only one of his hands gripping your bicep. It hurts, but you suppose he was right; it would have hurt a lot more to fall.
You're set on your feet with the expression of a tooka caught shredding its owners bedspread, but Obi-Wan meets your surly pout with an unimpressed look of his own. You're safely on the floor of your apartment, but his hand remains curled around your upper arm.
"I didn't think I needed to specify to you that staying 'out of reach' of your assassins did not mean dangling above them like a strung-up target."
"I was going to take a walk in the city," You repeat, teeth gritted, "I was going to keep my hood up, and I was going to blend in with the crowd."
"An excellent plan, truly," Obi-Wan indulges you, "I'm sure the seasoned bounty hunters that are poised to shoot you on sight would have been fooled by a cloth draped over your hair."
"I'm going crazy in here! I have to get out, I have to do something!" You gush, attempting to tear your arm out of Obi-Wan's grip. He doesn't let go, though, and he muscles it back to your side with a fleeting glint of fury in his eyes that you hadn't thought a Jedi was capable of. He walks forwards, and by extension, you walk backwards until your knees hit the frame of your bed and you're pushed down onto the mattress.
"Senator," He starts, keeping his voice tightly wound as he now looms over you, "I have a duty to protect you, but you have a duty to your own life as well. And I will not see you risk it by hanging yourself off of a skyscraper for something as menial as a stroll in the city! If you'd like to walk, you may walk into the closet and get yourself changed into your nightclothes, because the only thing you'll be doing this late at night is sleeping."
"You're not my daddy," You sneer at the man, his audacity setting something in your chest aflame, "You can't tell me what to do. I'm not going to sleep."
"I find your impression of a petulant toddler truly amusing, Senator," Obi-Wan deflects your persistent attempts at boiling him over, "But as you have a hearing to attend tomorrow, I suggest you take my advice and turn in for the night."
You bite the inside of your cheek so hard you're surprised it doesn't split beneath your teeth. He's right. You have a hearing tomorrow, and you're really only protesting sleep because he's asking you to do it. Perhaps.. perhaps that is below your station.
"Go," Obi-Wan's eyes flicker towards your dark closet, "But I would like you to leave the door open, please."
"What?" You rear your head back indignantly, any succession you'd decided on now gone as you process his request, "I'm not letting you watch me change, you freak!"
"I assure you I will not be watching," Obi-Wan lets go of your bicep, leaving a stinging ring around your skin in his wake, "But should there be any climb-able windows or secret exits in your closet that I'm not yet aware of, I don't want to be slowed down by a lock in my attempts to rescue you from your own foolishness."
"You're crazy. I'm telling the Jedi Council about this." You vow, storming off to your closet and tucking yourself into the walk-in portion so that your bodyguard can't see you as you strip down.
"You're more than welcome to, Senator. I suggest, though, that you be truthful with them about your attempts to fall from the two-hundredth-story of this building, otherwise you're going to make me look rather perverted."
"It's the 108th floor!" You snap, any patience you'd possessed throughout your encounter with Kenobi flooding out of you. It heats your skin, blazes it warm, which is perhaps why you've forgotten you're no longer clothed when you whirl around to correct the man to his face.
You're standing in the doorway of your closet now, very angry and very naked. Master Kenobi's eyes stay politely locked on your own, but one of his eyebrows raises, and a corner of his lips twitch in a barely-concealed smirk.
"Senator, if I were you," He drawls, his gaze heavy upon you despite being fixed on only your eyes, "I wouldn't tell the Council that you're giving me a strip show."
#obi-wan kenobi x reader#obi-wan kenobi smut#obi-wan kenobi fanfiction#obi-wan kenobi imagine#obi-wan kenobi fluff#obi-wan kenobi oneshot#obi-wan kenobi one-shot#obi-wan kenobi one shot#obi-wan kenobi headcanon#obi-wan kenobi headcanons#obi-wan kenobi hcs#obi-wan kenobi hc#obi-wan kenobi fan fiction#obi-wan kenobi fanfic#obi-wan kenobi blurb#obi-wan kenobi drabble#obi-wan kenobi dialogue#obi-wan kenobi x y/n#obi-wan kenobi x you
95 notes
·
View notes
Text
SHADOWS OF AFFECTION.
nsfw -- first time writings smut in awhile please give me ideas + feedback!! i feel like this is so rushed :'( didn't really proof read I'm sorry!!
A dimly lit room with a faint glow from nearby equipment. Anakin Skywalker, dressed in Jedi robes, stood facing you, a determined and slightly tense expression on his face.
"What are you doing here? You know you're not supposed to be in this sector." While speaking, his voice remained void of any emotion
"I have as much right to be here as you do, Skywalker. Maybe more." You mirrored his tone in your response noticing how that irritated him.
"You think you're clever, don't you? Always meddling where you don't belong." he said, his voice tinged with irritation, and his expression showing clear frustration.
"i'm here to ensure justice, something you seem to have forgotten in your pursuit of power." you remarked, stepping closer to him, your proximity enough to sense his rhythmic breathing.
"You have no idea what you're talking about," he retorted, narrowing his eyes at you, a glint of frustration now more evident. "I fight for peace, for the greater good, unlike your misguided intentions."
"Peace? Your methods are ruthless, your actions reckless. You'll destroy everything you claim to protect." you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief at his apparent contradictions.
"You don't understand the burden I carry, the choices I have to make." he murmured, his voice sounding like it almost went softer.
"Your excuses won't justify your deeds. The path you're on leads to darkness." you retorted firmly, unyielding in conviction.
There's a tense silence as you continue to lock eyes. Anakin's gaze flickers, conflicted emotions swirling within him. Suddenly, he reaches out, cupping your face in his hands, bringing you to shock.
Why did you want this?
"Despite everything, I can't deny what I feel for you." Anakin murmured, his voice carrying a hint of cocky confidence, unable to mask his underlying emotions.
Before you could even react to his words, Anakin closes the gap between you fully, pressing his lips against yours in a sudden, passionate kiss. It's a mixture of conflicting emotions - love, desire, and turmoil.
The kiss lingers for a moment, filled with intensity and an unspoken understanding. Anakin then breaks away, his expression a mixture of regret and longing.
"Fuck," he muttered, when he pulled back abruptly, a mix of emotions crossing his face.
He turns away, striding out of the room, leaving you standing there, stunned and conflicted by the unexpected moment of tenderness from your sworn enemy.
You wanted more, no, you needed more.
"Anakin," you called out, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with a hint of desperation that stirred something within him, causing a smirk to grace his lips.
"Hm?" he responded, pausing his steps, intrigued by the tone in your voice.
You sensed a rush in your stomach, a sensation akin to fireworks bursting within. "I-I need..." you attempted to articulate, grappling to express yourself as he cocked his head, observing you with a mix of fascination and amusement, a smug chuckle escaping his lips.
"What do you want, huh? You've gotta speak up, sweetheart, and tell me," he chided, his tone carrying a teasing edge.
I... I want you," you stammered, summoning the courage to draw nearer to him.
"Please," an almost pleading tone escaped your lips.
"Just kissed you, and now I've got you begging for more, hmm?" he chuckled, his voice tinged with a sense of satisfaction.
"Anakin, please, stop teasing me," you pleaded, frustration evident in your tone.
"Fine then, I'll find someone who'll give me what I need," you responded when he stayed silent, a hint of anger colouring your words, a calculated move to incite a reaction from him. His jaw tensed at your provocation, swiftly grasping your arm and ushering you back into a less conspicuous room.
"Enough with the games," he growled, commanding attention as he took a seat on the edge of the unfamiliar bed, a room that didn't belong to either of you.
It was amusing because you weren't the one teasing him; it was actually the reverse. The mere mention of seeing someone else seemed to set him off.
"Sit," he ordered firmly, his eyes fixated on his lap, a commanding presence exuding a sense of heat.
You glanced at him, uncertain of your next move, which only seemed to exacerbate his frustration.
"Sit, now," he demanded sharply. "Begging me for more and now when I offer, you act like a lost little bunny, huh? Pathetic," he hissed, his tone a blend of irritation and disdain.
Your cheeks warmed, a rush of heat coloring your skin at the way he spoke to you. Yet, driven by a mix of defiance and intrigue, you deliberately positioned yourself on his lap, straddling him. As you settled, you felt a surge of intensity in the eye contact you maintained with him, your gaze unwavering, a silent challenge and a hint of curiosity sparkling in your eyes.
An overwhelming sense of yearning surged within you, an unexpected desire that seemed to emanate solely for Anakin. It was a realization that struck you hardâyou hadn't comprehended how much you craved him until that moment. Letting out a soft whimper as he gently directed your movements, guiding your hips, he melded his lips with yours in a passionate embrace.
His hands extended, caressing to cup your breasts, eliciting a soft gasp from you. "Ani," you whimpered in a breathless plea, your voice muffled amidst the intensity of the kiss.
"Bet this pretty little cunt is soaked huh? All for me, is that right?" he playfully cooed, further teasing you with his words, evoking another soft whine to escape your lips.
When you refused to say anything, he brought a hand up, slapping you pathetically which made you much wetter than you already were. You strained to tighten your thighs from your current position, trying your best to maintain composure.
"I want to hear it," he growled, craving the sound of your voice, eager to sense the urgency and longing in your words.
When you could only muster a hasty "mhm," it fell short of what he sought, clenching your thighs together again as a result of his second slap.
"Y-yes ani, 'm so wet" You protested with a soft whine, attempting to shift and escape his secure hold while perched on his lap.
He chuckled darkly, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he shook his head. "I know you can do much better than that dirty bitch," he asserted with a commanding tone, his voice carrying an air of authority.
"'m so wet for you ani, please touch me, please" you expressed your desperation with a pleading tone as his hand slid down your body, departing from its prior position, your breasts, and descending farther and farther.
His hand lightly brushed over your clothed clit, causing you to nearly lose balance on his lap. "Please," you whimpered, leaning in close to his ear.
"I need you to listen to me and follow my instructions, clear?" he growled, asserting his dominance.
"Crystal," you replied, your voice filled with desperation as you tried to move against his fingers, although he hadn't instructed you to do so, had he?
"Desperate whore," he hissed, "keep that up and we'll both end up unsatisfied," he warned in a low, threatening tone.
You swallowed hard and nodded, halting your movements even though every part of you resisted. His finger continued to trace deliberate circles over your clothed clit, coaxing more moans from you as he intensified his touch.
"I need more, please," you pleaded urgently. You sensed his undeniable hardness beneath you, fueling your growing desperation.
Your words only fueled his hastened actions; his intention to tease was already fixed. He proceeded by swiftly pulling you up and removing your pants.
While you were still in your panties, he gently positioned you on the bed. Standing over you, he returned his hand back to your pussy, soaking wet, carefully pulling aside your panties.
"Ani!" you exclaimed as you finally sensed his fingers on your sensitive clit.
"Yes, yes so good, don't stop," you whimpered, your back arching, fingers tightly clutching the bedsheet.
However, everything shifted rapidly as your orgasm drew near. Your hands embraced him, drawing him closer, sensing his warm breath as his fingers intensified their pace.
"Yeah?" he teased, a smug grin adorning his face.
Tears cascaded down your face as your legs started to tremble, the sensation making you see stars. You attempted to kiss him, but you couldn't quite reach, and teasingly, he playfully moved away slightly.
"Getting close, sweetheart? I'm sure I'm making you feel incredible," he growled, coaxing you to say it.
The intensity of pleasure overwhelmed you as his fingers explored various rhythms, gauging your every reaction to pinpoint what brought you the most pleasure. When he slapped you, it momentarily stifled your words. "'S-so good, Ani, so good," you whimpered, struggling to speak amidst the sensation.
You were on the verge of climax, but a disappointed whimper escaped when your orgasm was withheld. Anakin promptly withdrew his two fingers from your swollen clit.
You protested, a desire to retaliate rising within you, but weariness held you back, knowing it hadn't been your effort but his.
"You should've mentioned you were close," he teased, sporting a playful grin.
"Shut up, Anakin." you sassed right back at him.
Anakin retorted sharply, his voice edged with a demanding and rough tone, "Don't tell me to shut up when you're craving every bit of this, begging for more."
With a mixture of frustration and desire, you decided to snap back at him, "Stop pretending like you don't know what you're doing to me."
Anakin, his voice husky and determined, countered, "I know exactly what I'm doing. And you love every second of it, don't you?"
"I-I don't love it... I just... I can't help but... feel." With a mix of denial and embarrassment, you replied, faltering with your words as he guided his fingers back to your clit.
Anakin's voice was laced with a teasing yet commanding tone, "Words might fail you, but your body doesn't lie. Show me how much you want this" he remarked.
As Anakin's words hung in the air, your breath hitched. Your gaze met his, conveying a mixture of uncertainty and desire. Without a word, your body responded, inching closer, a silent invitation for more. Fingers trembled slightly, reaching out tentatively, a silent plea for his touch to continue. Their eyes held a depth of longing, silently communicating what words couldn't express.
You let out a gasp as he directed his lips to your breasts, alternating between sucking and gently nibbling on one nipple, then showering the same affection on the other with equal passion.
"Ani, I need you," you whimpered as your climax neared once more. Your hands trembled as you attempted to remove his Jedi robes, but this action made him pause.
"What did I say?" he reminded you sternly, referring to the specific orders he had given for you to follow his commands strictly.
"'s too much, Ani," you cried out as he pulled you to the edge of the bed. Kneeling down, he began to gently use his tongue to tease over your clit.
"That's not what I said," he hissed, intensifying the circles of his tongue over your clit while his hand reached out to firmly cup your breasts.
"Please," you cried out, attempting to close your thighs as you squirmed, sitting up and tangling your hands in his hair, desperately trying to pull him away from you
He snarled, "Take it," exerting force to keep you down.
"Ani, it's too much, please!" you cried, squirming even harder.
âMm, what a beautiful cunt this is," he murmured, his tongue tracing circles over your clit, drawing you even nearer to him.
As you started moaning his name, almost reaching climax, he abruptly withdrew. Hs stripped off his clothing, you whimpered, studying his features, and he was undeniably well-endowed. "Where do you want this, sweetheart? Right here?" he teased, grazing his tip along your folds, referring to his cock.
You nodded with a pout, but before you could speak, he raised his hand, wrapping it around your neck ever so slightly "Can't even say it, can you? You want me inside you, huh? Deep inside," he cooed, his voice taunting.
"Say it now. I want to hear it," he demanded.
You whimpered, obeying his command but feeling embarrassed. "I want... you... please... to fuck me," you struggled to express, blushing with vulnerability.
His grin widened as he pushed himself into you. "So big," you murmured to yourself, grasping onto his arms as discomfort crossed your face.
"Let me set the pace baby, yeah, let me set the pace" he cooed softly, his voice filled with assurance. He started with a slow movement for a fleeting moment before intensifying his pace, causing the distinct sound of skin meeting skin. You were already a disheveled mess, so he paid no mind if someone were to walk in.
"Oh, Anakin, please!" you cried out, feeling the intense arousal build up. You had been denied your orgasm multiple times, so you sensed that just a few more thrusts would push you over the edge.
"Hold it, you filthy bitch," he cooed, commanding you to restrain yourself from climaxing.
"But!" you began to protest, only to be interrupted by him.
"I said, hold it," he growled, swiftly reaching up to slap you. His thrusts were intense, driving deep into you.
"Yeah, yeah that's it, taking this so well f'me," he groaned in satisfaction.
"Ani, I... I need..." you struggled to articulate your words as he relentlessly pounded into you, but he understood your desires perfectly. He pressed his lips against yours, delivering a messy yet forceful kiss that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
"Up," he commanded, his gaze fixed on your hips, and obediently, you complied, raising your hips as instructed. He swiftly grabbed a pillow, placing it under your lower back as he delved deep inside you once more. Holding still momentarily, observing your squirms for him, he finally resumed thrusting.
"Ani, yes, just like that," you cried out, the altered position aiding him in reaching a new angle, hitting your most sensitive spot.
He swiveled his hips, trailing soft nibbles along your neck, then ascending to your earlobe, teasingly biting on it.
"Are you going to cum f'me? Going to make a mess all over my cock?" he provocatively questioned.
"Yes! Please, yes!" you cried out, your legs trembling as he brought his thumb down to your clit, vigorously circling it.
"fuck," he groaned, his hips briefly slowing before returning to their earlier rhythm. Your hands dug deeply into his back, almost drawing blood.
"Please make me cum, I want it so badly," you pleaded, gripping onto him tightly.
The pleasure overwhelmed you, becoming almost unbearable.
"mhm, mhm," you cried out, so overwhelmed that you couldn't articulate properly.
Your back arched deeply, the sensation seemingly endless. Your eyes rolled back, hands gripping his hair as he penetrated you deeply, fully immersed in the act, lifting one of your legs and placing it over his shoulder.
And that was the tipping point for you.
"Come for me, now, pretty baby," he demanded as it felt like an explosion, finally letting go, releasing yourself all over his cock. He groaned in unison with you as he planted his seed deep inside you, his thumb continuing to work on your clit while he maintained a slow and steady rhythm of thrusting.
"That's it, taking it so well," he cooed as his pace gradually quickened once more. In a state of shock, you whimpered, feeling utterly exhausted and drained from the prolonged teasing game he had been playing with you for a while.
"What? it's too much for you to handle huh? what is it baby? Have I gotten you all worked up?" he asked, wearing a sly grin.
"Mhm," you replied, nodding your head with a pout on your face.
"Too bad. You're going to take my cock and thank me for it," he growled, thrusting deeper into you, leaving you wondering how that could even be possible.
"Drenched in all your damn juices," he hissed, gripping your waist while one hand moved to your lower stomach, applying slight pressure to feel himself inside you.
"Look," he demanded, seizing your jaw to force you to observe the point where you two were connected, to witness how intensely he was penetrating you.
"Oh, fuck," you moaned at the sight of him moving in and out of you, your body tightly embracing him. Something about the sight drove you to the edge once more; your eyes rolled back as you cried out, "Ani!" while bucking your hips.
"Fuck," he cooed, "make a fucking mess all over me."
His words spat out with intensity, "Cover me in all your fucking juices," he hissed, demanding,
"Yeah pretty baby, you want to huh?" he cooed as you desperately nodded.
"Gonna fucking fill this pussy up" he spoke through gritted teeth.
In just a few more thrusts, both of you reached climax together. You moaned for him while he buried his face into your neck, groaning into your ear.
"Good girl," he cooed, planting a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away from you and kneeling down again.
"Ani?" you questioned with a whimper, but were interrupted by a moan as he began circling your clit with his tongue once more.
Did he really want you to cum for the third time?
Overwhelmed by the stimulation, you cried even harder, attempting to squirm away from him.
"Mm, it's too much, too much, I can't handle it," you whined, sensing your climax nearing as he sucked harshly on your clit, the sound of a 'pop' echoing in the room.
Indeed, he had succeeded; the cocky guy had brought you to climax for the third time.
"You did so well f'me, darling," he cooed, leaning in to kiss you as you tasted yourself on his lips. Eventually, he pulled away, planting a kiss on your forehead as he took care of cleaning you up and helping you get dressed again.
You winced from the pain in your legs when you attempted to stand, prompting him to lift you up himself.
"Tired?" he inquired, and you nodded, nearly dozing off in his embrace.
"Oh, training got the best of her? Take it easy on her, Anakin," Obi-Wan's sudden voice made you whimper.
"Shh, sleep baby," he cooed, shooting Obi-Wan a glare.
Anakin carried you back to his place, gently helping you change into comfortable clothes before guiding you to bed. He tenderly tucked you in, caressing your head and planting gentle kisses on your forehead.
"Rest now, my dear," he whispered softly, dimming the lights as you drifted into a peaceful slumber, feeling safe and cared for in his embrace.
#anakin fanfiction#anakin x you#anakin smut#anakin x reader#anakin skywalker#star wars anakin#obi wan#anakin Skywalker scenairo#anakin skywalker one shot#anakin skywalker blurb#darth vader#star wars#anakin skywalker fic#anakin Skywalker headcannon#anakin skywalker hcs#anakin skywalker fanfic#anakin Skywalker fanfiction#anakin skywalker drabble#dom!anakin#smut#anakin x y/n#anakin x fem reader#ani daddy#Star Wars smut#hayden christensen
335 notes
·
View notes
Text
So this is what i think happened at force ghost heaven after they all died.
*Narrator voice*
Somewhere in force ghost heaven after his death a tired obi wan kenobi sat down and prepared a cup of tea, ready to drink it and enjoy his finally well deserved peace and rest for all eternity to come as suddenly an ear pinching, to him oh so well known, voice disrupted the harmonious silence and before he turned his head he already knew who it was and started silently praying: "oh my force no please, please no." But it was too late: "Oooh maaaasteeeer. Guess who felt so sorry that they let him iiiiin." And before he knew a pair of familiar arms one of them metal hugged him tightly, squishing him. Obi wan twists his face in an annoyed, desperate grimace a familiar headache crawling up his head. "oh force no."
"Obi wan i missed you sooo much and also i an so sorry for what happened i know this makes it not better but: my bad. Yoou, are not angry anymore? R..Right? *traumatisedly remembering the pain after his master beat him up twice after losing his pantience* I mean i love you so i wanted to tell you that back on mustafar that i love you and you are my brother aswell *dramatic sobs*. And i am back now. And i have to tell you soo many stuff soo many years of storys and adventures i have to tell you, and Luke and leia by the way you met them, knew them, tell me about them luke is as strong as his father isnt he? *muffled sobs* AND HOW IN THE WORLD YOU LET MY DAUGHTER HOOK UP WITH A SMUGGLER? also dang how did you got so old like what happened to you you old hermit fart? hahaha and....." and he kept on talking and talking and talking without a point or taking a breath once. Having missed his beloved master so dearly. Cause the moment obi wan was gone he stood there, not having a purpose anymore. shure he wanted to defeat him but he had never actually really thought he would get that far and now that he was gone he was lonely and lost. "Naur. iF OBi waN iS nOt hEre I dOn't LIkE iT. Bye b*tches i'm out. Imma follow himđ„° maybe if i say that i am very very sorry they'll let me inđđ»đđ»"
meanwhile obi wan asked himself what he ever did to deserve this. He didn't knew if he should be happy and cry because his beloved brother and best friend was finally back with him as back then in their best days, as if nothing had happened. Or if he should cry cause he was back with him. FoR aLl EteRnItY TO ComE. He ultimately decided to cry.
In the meanwhile a well known, now metal, hand grips the hilt of his purple lightsaber tightly, trying to calm his rage down and stares with a dead expression in his infamous glare with two words on his mind: "skywalker" and "motherf*cker".
Yoda: "oh heck. No, rid off you we thought we got. Mace: " it was MY FREAKING HAND. if you had more patience M*THERFUCKER WE SOME DAY WOULD HAVE GRANTED YOU YOUR STUPID ASS RANK. Like i can't believ you murdered us all just because you had a bad dream and didn't got a rank. Yoda Was about to teach you force healing:"ThE POwEr tO SavE HeR" IF YOU PSYCHOTIC ASS M*THERFUCKING M*THERFUCKER JUST WOULD HAVE HAD A LITTLE MORE PATIENCE. And mental stability." Yoda Petting his leg trying to calm him. Anakin, hiding behind obi wan who is yet done again: "really? Oh. My bad then i guess heh sorry." Mace: " *eye twitching aggressively, heavy breathing* Aaaaaaaah........*distant long scream*"
But obi wan was just about, to have his yelling moment, and that was when his former master stood infront of him a nervous smile on his face waving him hello: "obi wan my dear boy i'm so happy you made it here. I meant to tell you i was there obi wan *putting his hand to his own heart* the whole time you were never alone." A slap and sharp pain caused through gui gons cheeks as he realised that obi wan had slapped him. "what was that for??" Obi wan: "I CALLED FOR HELP AT LEAST 200 TIMES AND NOT EVEN A SINGLE WHAT DO YOU WANT WHAT DO YOU NEED NOTHING!" "Listen here i.." "NO YOU LISTEN HERE YOU OLD FART I WAS BASICALLY STILL A KID MYSELF AND YOU LEFT ME WITH THAT SACK OF CHAOS -*pointing on anakin who looks up at them and smiles, waves happily at qui gon*- no how to parent your padawan book left for instruction NOTHING!!! what were you even doing? I HOPE THE MILK TASTED GOOD!!" "Hey don't yell at your master!! I tell you.." qui gon tries to defend himself but obi wan just continues letting his feelings out:" you cant bring that up on me anymore i am a master myself now!" Qui gon:"AS LONG AS YOU LIVE IN THIS HOUSE..!" Obi wan:"THIS IS NOT THE TEMPLE AND I AM A COUNCIL MEMBER." Qui gon *gasp*: "i can't believe you are bringing this up to me" *shocked* obi wan:"Well i'm sorry but you forced me to. its your fault all of this IS YOUR FAULT." Anakin interrupting him: "so its not mine anymore?" Obi wan: "Sh*t up anakin. The council told you he was to old we should not train him, yoda told you his future was clouded, i told you it was a bad idea BUT YOU HAD TO INSIST and now LOOK WHERE THAT BROUGHT US!!"
Moment of silence. Yoda: "right you are maybe his fault it all was not skywalkers." Mace having finished yelling at anakin: "eh you know what? You're right obes. *pointing at qui gon* YOUR FAULT IT IS M*THERFUCKER" *loud dispute starting.*
I desperately dare someone to make a comic pretty pls
#It is said these days that when theres a thunder rolling that's mace and anakin fighting in force ghost heaven#and lightning strikes is obi wan up there losing his patience and yelling at anakin for whatever it is he's done again#rain is obi wans tears of desperation trying to get some peace for once in his miserable life#i can picture that and i find it hilarious#obi wan kenobi#star wars fandom#star wars#star wars prequels#revenge of the sith#attack of the clones#the phantom menace#anakin skywalker#star wars originals#mace windu#yoda#jedi#force ghost#force ghost heaven#blurb#star wars blurb
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
@augusnippets day 3: blizzard
tw: descriptions of physical pain, near death experience
Obi-Wan has lost all feeling in his fingers. Itâs a merciful relief compared to the burning in his feet.
He staggers as the biting wind buffets him from side to side, shaking him like a ragdoll, and he canât quite decide whether the nausea roiling in his stomach is from that, or from the concussion he likely got when Anakin threw him just a bit too forcefully out of the way of oncoming blaster fire. Squinting against the swirling vortex of white, Obi-Wan tries hopelessly to make out anything in the haze of the blizzard.
He canât even see the Palace anymore, though he canât be that far from it.
Split up, Anakin had said. Iâll circle around with the gunships as soon as I can.
As the screaming wind threatens to rupture his eardrums, Obi-Wan wonders dejectedly whether that was just another cleverly concealed lie.
I shouldnât think that, he scolds himself. A Jedi should never assume the worst of a person, at least not without sufficient proof. His cynical outlook is simply the result of the bone-deep, all-consuming chill fraying his composure, nothing more.
Blinking his eyes dazedly back into focus (not that thereâs much to focus on), Obi-Wan attempts to reorient himself.
Which way had he been walking?
The gale tears at his thin robes, snow drenching the cloth and his hair and his skin and his bones. His skeleton rattles with the force of his shivers, slamming his joints together painfully. The numbness in his toes spreads to his feet, his shins, his knees, and before he can comprehend whatâs happening, his face buries itself in a mound of snow.
Get up. You have to get up.
His legs are on fire; he canât locate his arms. The snow is clogging his throat, smothering, suffocating, and the icicles in the corner of his eyes might be frozen tears; he isnât quite sure.
An endless field of white consumes his vision, and it looks a bit like how he imagines emerging into the light at the end of the tunnel.
Air rushes into his lungs, the sudden expansion painful, and he gasps and sputters like a dying man. Somehow, heâs lying on his back, though he doesnât remember rolling over. A figure swims in his vision, in and out of focus, blue and white and blonde.
Rex.
ââyou alright? General? Can you hear me?â Terror, absolute terror like a knife to the chest.
I need to tell him I trust him, that thereâs no one better equipped to keep the senator safe. The thought slams into Obi-Wan, all desperation and teeth. I forgot to, before the ceremony, and he shouldnât doubt himself, shouldnât think heâs anything less than the greatest man Iâve ever had the fortune of knowingâ
Heâs being hauled to his feet, one arm slung over Rexâs shoulders, weight sagging helplessly.
âYouâll be okay.â Rexâs voice is soothing, and Obi-Wan closes his eyes, lets himself get lost in the comfort. âIâve got you. I promise youâll be okay.â
Obi-Wan isnât worried; Rex always keeps his promises.
#augusnippets day 3#by stationary_cycle#star wars#star wars fanfiction#blurb#snippet#writing#obi wan kenobi#captain rex#augusnippets#Obi wan/padme/rex
22 notes
·
View notes