#I mean they do love anakin and Padmé too but they just settle down so easily for obi-wan

[tennessoui]

Would very much like to see one of these family vacations in the cheating au. Satine talking up all the cute staff boys, Padme playing with the twins, Obi-Wan and Anakin obnoxiously flirting in the corner and Korkie desparately trying to ignore his father and uncle figure making fuck me eyes in public. God what an amazing vacation. And they took multiple??!? MULTIPLE!!

Ok so this didn’t get to the actual vacation. Mostly Obi-Wan plans an itinerary that makes sure the only time Anakin and Padmé are together is when they’re asleep because he’s petty like that. This is probably the nastiest cheating snippet yet— I don’t even like anidala and I feel bad for poor Padmé.

(1.2k)(nsfw)

It had been Obi-Wan who had suggested that they vacation together: him, his son, and Satine, and Anakin, Padmé, and the twins. The Kenobi-Kryzes own a lovely beach villa in Scarif. It would be a perfect, seasonal getaway.

Anakin had wanted to say no.

He’d wanted to say no through the planning and the packing, the letting the employers and staffers know, the arranging for Luke and Leia’s first inter-planetary travel.

He’d wanted to say no, but Obi-Wan had kept giving him reasons to say yes.

He’d been accosted at work so satisfactorily that when his boss had checked to make sure he really was going to take two weeks off in the middle of High Season, all he could muster was a glazed-eyed, breathy yeah.

Obi-Wan had done the bulk of the planning, though where he’d found the time between being the primary senator from Stewjon, head of at least five committees, fucking Anakin, probably fucking his wife as well, being a father to Korkie and a mentor to Padmé, Anakin doesn’t know. 

It’d be impressive if it didn’t make him feel sick every time he thinks too much about it, which is almost constantly.

The itinerary, when Obi-Wan shows it to them over glasses of wine on Padmé and Anakin’s balcony, is obscene. If you know what to look for. 

Satine obviously does, because she skims it quite quickly before leaning back in her chair. “Well,” she says with a light trill of laughter that’s too perfect and trained to be real. “It’s certainly not a couple’s vacation.”

Anakin tenses, even when he can’t help but agree with her. In all these plans and activities that Obi-Wan has drafted up, there is never one single moment where Anakin and Padmé are alone. Or, for that matter, Obi-Wan and Satine.

“Oh, I thought Ani and I could do those hot stone massagess aand the natural healing hot springs together,” Padmé says very diplomatically.

“I did read about those,” Satine replies. “Very good for married partners. Very rejuvenating.” 

She takes another sip of her wine and Anakin hopes that she chokes on it.

“I suppose so,” Obi-Wan says. “Only I suppose I was hoping for a…a vacation with both our families, where we could all become closer. Padmé, you and I have gotten quite close over the years working in the Senate—” he gives her a wink and Anakin tenses.

Padmé lays her hand on his forearm in an effort to soothe him. “Now, Obi-Wan, you make it sound like we’ve been sleeping together,” she says with a laugh and a shake of her head. “We’re not,” this denial is probably for Anakin’s sake. Before—before they’d gotten married, before Obi-Wan had come into his life, Anakin had been quite possessive of Padmé’s time and attention.

Now it wasn’t the idea of her with another man that caused the flames of jealousy to start licking at his insides. 

Obi-Wan seems to know it. “Darling, I would never.” Anakin relaxes, as if these words are directed to him. They probably are. “But the point still stands, I spend much more time with you and Satine than I do with Anakin. And when I do have the chance to stop by to say hello, he is always cooking dinner or fussing with fussy twins. Apart from the occasional flying lesson, I’m afraid I never properly spend time with the husband you always tell me so much about.”

“Excuse me,” Satine says. “I’m going to pour myself another glass. I’ll be right back.”

“And I doubt you spend much time with my wife either,” Obi-Wan coaxes, one hand wrapped around the stem of his wine glass, the other gently tapping the flimsi he’s printed the itinerary on.

Padmé looks considering. Anakin can’t believe Obi-Wan might just get away with planning a couples’ vacation with his paramour while both of their wives are also present.

He also can’t believe Obi-Wan’s nerve, trying to pretend that he doesn’t relish in the times he stops by the Coruscant apartments the Skywalker-Amidalas own and gets to lift one fussy twin from its crib and hold it to his chest until it falls quiet and content.

He’s fallen asleep still wearing his senatorial robes and cuddling one of Anakin’s babies more times than Anakin can count.

Once, during a flying lesson that was just a thinly veiled excuse to fuck amongst the stars, Obi-Wan had called them the twins. Not your twins. Anakin had caught the shift in phrase, how close it edged towards our twins.

“They’re not yours,” he’d muttered. “Alright?”

“Aren’t they?” Obi-Wan had responded, taking Anakin’s silence as a suggestion to flick on the auto-pilot of the ship and climb into his lap. “Only, darling, I’ve done the math, haven’t I? We’d been having our trysts for at least a month before your wife became pregnant. Who were you thinking about when you laid with her? Who were you trying to get out of your head?”

“You’re right,” Padmé finally says. “I suppose you’re right. Ani and I can take a couples vacation any time. Bail has a cabin in the Alderaan mountains, doesn’t that sound lovely for the winter, darling?”

“Yeah,” Anakin agrees, though he catches Obi-Wan’s eye when he says it. Obi-Wan’s expression is rather dark, and Anakin gets the impression the man would rather take a flame to the whole of Alderaan’s endangered forests than allow Anakin and Padmé to go on a couples vacation there.

“Perfect then,” Obi-Wan says. “I can’t imagine Anakin liking hot springs anyway. What was it you told me? Hot water itself is unnatural?”

“If I wanted to be boiled alive, I would be,” Anakin mutters. He can feel his wife turning to look at him.

“I didn’t know that,” she says. Anakin shrugs. It’d never come up.

Obi-Wan’s eyes glitter in victory, or something like it. “He only told me because I was talking about my reluctance to fly, as death by space is akin to being boiled, so I’ve heard. But I know the stress of the job, Padmé, I’ve booked a full spa day for you and my wife.”

“And what will you and Padmé’s husband get up to while we’re away?” Satine asks, sinking down in her chair and purposefully moving it closer to Obi-Wan’s. Anakin’s teeth clench. Ever since Satine found out who exactly Obi-Wan has been sneaking around to sleep with, she’s been insufferable.

“Let her have her fun, darling,” Obi-Wan had told him when he’d complained and worried that one day she’d tell Padmé about the affair. “Satine’s sense of loyalty is strange but strong. She knows that I would never forgive her should she play a part in taking you from me.”

“But they’re friends,” Anakin had protested even as he’d licked the sweat from Obi-Wan’s chest.

“Demonstrably not good ones,” his lover had pointed out. “Satine adores your wife but despises her naivety. I suppose she’s hoping this will serve as a wake up call for her. Should she find out on her own.”

Anakin hadn’t much liked that, the inevitability of the statement. But then, even the birth of his children hadn’t been enough to stop himself from falling into Obi-Wan’s bed.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan says with a wave of his hand. “We’ll come up with something.”

Padmé smiles tentatively. Her problem is that she spends half of her day fielding double speak and knife-filled smiles. Politicians never say what they really mean. They’re masters of saying twelve different things at once. It’s not that she doesn’t know this. It’s that she doesn’t think she needs to have her shields up around her closest friends, to be suspicious of the odd turn of phrase.

Her problem is that she loves them all and none of them deserve it.

Obi-Wan rests his chin on his hand. “Perhaps we can tend to the children while you and Satine are away.”

“A day’s spa trip does sound lovely,” Padmé says. “If you’re sure you wouldn’t mind. I know your Korkie is an angel, but our children are quite the hell-raisers.”

“I promise it would be no trouble at all to watch the children,” Anakin’s lover promises his wife with a glint in his eyes that practically screams our, our, our. He turns that gaze to Anakin. “Right, Anakin?”

His eyes have darkened, changed. Mine, mine, mine.

“Right,” Anakin chokes out. “Yeah, of course.”

#asks #cheating au #it doesn’t help poor anakin’s situation that obi-wan is good with babies #and the twins really do love him #I mean they do love anakin and Padmé too but they just settle down so easily for obi-wan #which makes it harder for anakin to be like ‘Im ruining my family’ etc etc #cw: infidelity #they’re just so gross about each other in this au #obi-wans so possessive because he has to share and he hates it it turns out #but anakin is just as possessive that all Satine has to do is call him her husband (a fact) and anakin wants to fight #obikin

[gffa]

I know this has been talked about many times before, but I still don't know what we are supposed to think of Padmé's actions when she comforts Anakin after he confesses to murder in cold blood. He feels guilty and all, but he continues his shitty behavior even before he became Darth Vader, and then does it again. It's just hard for me to see Padmé as some sort of saint in that scene. And are we even supposed to see it that way anyway? There's no official answer, which makes it all the more mind boggling to me. When people say she forgave and did the right thing, it's seems unjustified because he still did it, he regretted it, but he also said "I hate them". Idk I'm sorry if this is too long. I just have a lot of thoughts on this scene.

Hi! For me, I've settled into a balance between "there's no hard narrative intention here, so I just have to let it go" and "here's my best guess at a look into what little has been said about her" and "here's what makes sense to me as someone speculating about her character on my own". I think it comes down to two things: 1) Natalie Portman's comment about how Padme thinks she can save Anakin as a motivation for her character and 2) that as complicated as it can be in some ways, the Tuskens were written in an extremely racist way, especially in that their deaths do not register with Lucas the same way other races/cultures would. Which means that while this should be a point-of-no-return moment for Anakin's character, while it should be recognize that he's murdering children here (and I do think that's meant to have weight, that the dialogue specifies he knows he's killing innocent lives), I don't think the narrative fully does so, and instead treats it as his "first step" onto the path of darkness, one that he can come back from. And I do think a lot of that comes from Lucas, much as I applaud him for being progressive in other ways and genuinely seems like someone who was trying to do better, does portray real world elements in a racist way in the movie, they're treated as less than human here. (I will say that Padme also is willing to take Anakin back even after he murders the Jedi younglings, so there's a little wiggle room here, in the way she reacts, but the racism is pretty undeniable and a big motivation here.) But because the narrative and the author don't treat his murder of the Tuskens as a point of no return, Padme can't treat his murder of them as a point of no return, so instead her reactions are based on the idea that, yes, this was bad, but it was something that still left good in him and she's trying to reach out to that good, she's trying to save him. As much fun as it is to examine these characters from a more realistic lens, so much of Star Wars makes a lot more sense when you consider what Lucas was going for on a thematic level--in a lot of ways, Padme isn't written for herself, she's written as a baromter of where Anakin is at. When she comforts him, it's because we're meant to see Anakin in a place of emotional turmoil. When she backs away from him on Mustafar, we're meant to see him as having crossed a line, unwilling to come back. When she says, "There's still good in him." on Polis Massa, we're meant to understand there's a glimmer of hope for the far-off future. I don't think it's really about Padme's character at all, I think she's written--as SO MANY of the elements of Star Wars are--to be an extension of Anakin's character, because the story of Star Wars is the story of Anakin Skywalker. I love love love some of the excellent meta that examines these scenes through the lens of what Padme is thinking and feeling and what her character arc is about. And I may be being uncharitable to the writing for her, but it's largely where I've settled just so I can stop itching over it. For me, I don't think Padme was "right" or "wrong" on Tatooine, I don't think we're meant to see Padme as any kind of saint. I think she's balanced between "Padme thinks she can save Anakin, but ultimately she cannot, Anakin has to be the one to choose to come back himself" and "Padme is basically a symbolic dark side meter, as so many of the characters in SW are symbolic of various aspects of Anakin".

#anakin skywalker #padme amidala #meta

[desireandduty]

@kylo-wrecked asked: "What’s the lie your character says most often? { TELL US YOUR SECRETS }" | from this meme | Accepting!

The easiest answer is the most obvious one: "why no, master yoda, i most definitely am not fucking general skywalker's brains out in secret at every available opportunity we are totes just friends i mean why would you even ask that?!?!! 😇"

BUT TO BE MORE REAL, Padmé tells so many lies for someone so devoted to truth, democracy and freedom. Most of them are lies to herself, though, so I suppose that's the difference. Just a few examples:

She literally has a public persona. That's like... a professional lie. Amidala is the public face that she crafted first for her role as Queen. When she became a Senator, she just adapted it to the culture, conventions and quirks of the Galactic Senate as opposed to the Royal Court of Naboo. As much as she wants to do good, real, important things with her public service, so much of politics genuinely is about optics. It's an aspect she's had to focus on since she was a teenager. I think in some respects, the Amidala persona is a self-protective measure. Imagine if your every decision, down to your new haircut or who you had dinner with last weekend, had the potential to be scrutinized and criticized by the media and the public? Would that not make you want to hide your real self away from the world? That way, when she gets criticized, it's Amidala they're criticizing, not Padmé. Of course, in reality, it's hard for her to separate the two, so the criticism ends up being taken personally too, but hey... no one's perfect, even in their lies.

She tells herself that she is important, that she's essential to making her people's lives better and to protecting democracy. I don't think this is a lie born of arrogance. It's more of a necessary one to motivate her in light of lie #3 (below.) But she's isn't someone who got into politics for power or fame. She's not in it to amass great wealth. She truly wants to help people and make the galaxy (or at least her sector of it) a better place. Although she wanted to settle down into civilian life after she finished her term as Queen, she bought into the lie that "the galaxy needs you!" and she's just kept serving because if she doesn't do it, then who will or rather, who will do it RIGHT?

Sometimes (aka very often), she denies her own feelings or desires because "doing her duty is more important" or "she owes it to Naboo/the galaxy." I think this is a central tension for her in AOTC. She is clearly wrestling with what she perceives to be her duty to the galaxy versus her almost overwhelming desire for Anakin. She managed to hold out on that for all of what... two weeks? Even though I do think Padmé is a person who makes emotional, snap decisions when people she loves are involved, going from "don't look at me like that" to "I truly, deeply love you" in the space of two weeks is like... next level ridiculous. Unless she had been denying that part of herself for years. Of course, Anakin himself is quite the temptation (and I will not wax effusively on about all the reasons why she loves him here), but I don't see another reason for her to make such a quick reversal (other than it being necessary to the narrative LOL.) I think of her like a dormant volcano. She has all that hot passion and emotion under the surface, like magma. And when she let Anakin kiss her at Varykino, that was like the first crack in the surface that let a little of that magma escape. After that, a full scale eruption was inevitable.

#{i meme it} #{i am queen amidala: headcanons} #{duty vs desire: metas}

[flowerandcodes]

Anakin takes a deep breath, and then continues to take those deep breaths as he leaves the Temple and flies back home to Padmé.

The second he walks in the door, Padmé is on him, a gentle hand on his arm and the other stretching to run through his hair. Short little thing- she can barely reach.

Most days it's adorable. Today it's just a reminder that he's going to have to tell this tiny, pretty little omega that her mate has a pup with someone else. Today he's going to break her heart.

"Hi my love- c'mon, let me get inside the door," he says softly, walking in further and basically pushing her along with him. "Let's go sit, okay? I have to tell you some things."

"Would you like to order dinner?" Padmé asks, "We can- from Dex's or... or the Huttese place you like so much- that's your favorite. We can order from there."

Anakin gives her a small smile as he sits on the couch. "I'm not mad at you, Mé. I just need to talk. I have... news." He pats the cushion next to him and Padmé hurries to sit right there, her hand returning to his arm once she's comfy.

"What is it, Ani?" she kisses his arm, nuzzling her nose into his sleeve as she looks up at him.

"I... remember how I got shot with the sex pollen?" he starts, his voice growing softer as he continues, "I ended up- I got- Lili is pregnant," he whispers. "And the pup is mine."

Padmé rears back, her spine straight as a rod as she stares at him for a long moment. She lets out a loud, pleading whine and tugs on his sleeve a little, "Please- please don't leave me," she murmurs, "Anakin you can't-"

"I'm not leaving you, Mé," he kisses her head, "I'm not leaving you. I just- you have to know what this means. She's keeping the pup, as I begged her to. And I'm going to help her with it, imprint on it as alpha and father. This is my only chance," he breathes, "An' I'm sorry it isn't with you. I'm so sorry."

"She can- she can give the baby to us," Padmé tries, her voice starting to tremble the more nervous she gets, "She can- we'll raise the pup for her. She's a Jedi- she's too busy for that-"

"I'm a Jedi," he reminds her softly.

"Then... then she can move in here," Padmé tries again. "And we can help her and... and we can both be part of the pup's life and- and maybe she'll even give it to me- Ani please," she starts to cry, recognizing his expression already as a 'no'.

"I am not forcing an omega to move and have a baby somewhere she isn't comfortable," he shakes his head, closing his eyes as she whines again loudly. "I'm sorry, my love. I'm so sorry- I'm figuring it out, okay? I'm sorry."

An hour passes and Padmé's crying, still, does not stop. Neither do her whines. Every single one breaks Anakin's heart just as much as he knows hers is broken.

Once she finally settles down and falls asleep on his shoulder, thanks to some expert purring and cooing from him, he sends you a text.

I spoke with her. She is... very hurt. But she knows what I have to do.

I like his message and then respond,

I really can ask Hunter. He’s already just excited to be an uncle now. He’s carving the crib.

[ragnarlothcat]

eyes the wedding fic like the last matcha cookie on the table: the wedding fic, if you please?

Thank you 🥰 This is another one-shot set after my fic à la carte, and it's Anakin and Obi-Wan's wedding day!

I haven't written much of this one yet, but I wrote the last à la carte one-shot in a single afternoon so that's my plan here. Wait for inspiration to strike!

Here's what I have so far. Anakin stayed over at Ahsoka's apartment the night before to make the wedding night more special. These are the consequences of their brief separation.

(For this wip game!)

Obi-Wan’s phone vibrates (Anakin insists that audible ringtones are only for the very elderly or for people who hate their fellow man) and he grabs it worriedly. It’s awfully early for anyone to be calling. Maybe the caterer, or the string quartet, or the officiant—

His heart jolts. “Ahsoka?” Obi-Wan answers, fighting back dread. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine,” Ahsoka says, possibly through clenched teeth. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“He was already awake, Snips,” comes Anakin’s voice, as though he’s shouting at Ahsoka from across the apartment. “I told you he sets his alarm for 7:30. And Obi-Wan never hits snooze.”

Warmth blooms in Obi-Wan’s chest. It’s true, he doesn’t. How sweet it is to be known.

“Ugh,” Ahsoka says, clearly disagreeing. “I don’t care. Look, Anakin’s fine, but I hope you know what you’re signing up for.”

“Hey! I’m a delight,” Anakin grumbles, and Obi-Wan hears thumping.

“He is a delight,” Obi-Wan agrees, for why would he say otherwise? Anakin can be contrary, needling, and mercurial, but Obi-Wan knows him. Obi-Wan loves him. Anakin is constantly finding new ways to delight him.

“What did he say?” Anakin asks, sounding closer.

Ahsoka scoffs. “He says you are a delight, but he’s lying because he’s too good for you. He’s too polite to tell you that you’re being an absolute diva.”

“I am not—”

“I’m putting you on speaker phone so you can be sickening at each other without involving me,” Ahsoka says, and then the quality of her voices changes. “Here Obi-Wan, say good morning to what your decisions hath wrought.”

Barriss has really been helping Ahsoka develop the breadth of her insults. “Thank you, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan says, “and good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?”

Ahsoka laughs once without humor.

“You weren’t there to cuddle me,” Anakin says, audibly pouting. “And I’m just worried about today.

Obi-Wan clutches his phone in a panic. It’s finally happening. Anakin has finally realized that he’s the cleverest, most beautiful, most charming man to have ever lived. He’s tired of Obi-Wan and is leaving him for a supermodel astronaut he met at an engineering party who also does math for fun. Obi-Wan knew this would happen—

“What if our suits don’t match?”

Oh. Obi-Wan takes a deep breath and settles back down into his pillows. “They match, Anakin. Padmé checked them for us. Thoroughly.” So thoroughly that Obi-Wan is a little surprised she’s still coming to the wedding and that Anakin is still alive.

“I know, but what if she got something wrong? Padmé gets things wrong sometimes! I took a chemistry class with her once—”

“Why was Padmé in a chemistry class? Wasn’t she a political science major?”

“—and do you know what she got on the final? A B, Obi-Wan. Do you want to have a B wedding? Do you?”

“If you keep yelling at him, he’s not going to want any kind of wedding,” Ahsoka mutters, mutinously.

Anakin gasps and Obi-Wan hears a clattering noise as though Anakin dropped the phone in his panic. “I take it back, please still marry me—”

“And thank you for that, Ahsoka. Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, dropping his voice into the tone that means listen carefully and you will be rewarded. He’s never employed it in this context, or in front of an audience, but desperate times. “My darling. I want to marry you very badly. So badly that it has been driving me to distraction. It’s all I think about.” And it is. Obi-Wan has spent many sleepless nights studying Anakin’s profile in the dark, marveling at his good fortune. This is the man he’s going to spend the rest of his life with. “I simply cannot survive another day without you as my husband.”

“Oh.” Anakin’s voice sounds suspiciously wet and Obi-Wan notes the time for whoever had ‘Anakin cries before 8 am’ in the betting pool. “I want to marry you very badly too.”

“Well, I have excellent news for us both,” Obi-Wan says, smiling. “Because today is our wedding day.”

#obikin #ask game #anon #à la carte #wedding au #poor anakin is a mess in this #weddings are stressful! #he needs everything to be perfect! #luckily obi-wan already loves him a lot

[coexiising]

Midnight Love - Anakin Skywalker

REQUEST ◆ can i request a little something where anakin comes back from a long mission after there were rumors that he was dead, so the reader is super relieved and impatiently waiting to be alone with him? basically fluff where she could take care of his wounds and maybe some passionate sex

WARNING(S) ◆ smut, piv sex, mentions of death, cursing

WORDS ◆ 3.1k

NOTE ◆ im sick but i got the sudden urge to finish this request so!! thank you for requesting!!

If someone was to ask you what love was a year ago, you would insist that you had no idea and tell them to ask someone else. But in the coming months, even in the throws of Civil War raging throughout the entire Galaxy left and right — You had found love. And maybe it wasn’t perfect and not like the fairytales that you used to read when you were a young child but it was yours, and that was all that mattered in the long run. You were in love and so happy.

But right now, all you were was nervous. You had been for almost a week since hearing the news that a rather intense battle had broken out in the Outer Rim, where Anakin Skywalker, the man you were in love with, had been stationed for almost a month now. You were scared and wracked with anxiety of the possibility of something happening to him. You stayed up late at night and tried to calm yourself down, but it was to no use. There was no way of contacting him during the middle of a mission and the only thing you could slightly rely on was the news, which sometimes wasn’t entirely factual.

And then the rumors started.

You weren’t one to rely on the news of gossip or others, though this talk had been spoken about within a rather influential group of politicians, about how The Hero With No Fear was dead. You didn’t want to believe it, it couldn’t be true. Anakin, your Anakin, couldn’t be dead. So you vowed from that day forward that you would only think of him as alive, not going to engage in any conversation until you were sure of his true outcome.

And another rumor spread that the 501st was coming back to Coruscant and again, you tried to ignore it, trying not to get your hopes up on false promises. Still though, you checked your comms where Anakin always contacted you when he was within range, and checked, and checked, and checked until it was becoming somewhat of an addiction. There was no call.

It is now marked two months since you’ve seen Anakin, the days dragging long and boring and the nights cold and lonely. You missed him so much that it was hard to breathe, feeling as though another half of you had been thrown into the wind never to be seen again. He had a job in the Republic and you understood that completely, but it didn’t stop you from wishing that things were different, that you could be together with him without anything pulling you away from one another or that you could just be with him in public in a romantic way rather than platonic.

Your feet took you across the Jedi Temple building, tasked with giving some papers to Senator Padmé Amidala who was briefing with the Council about security in the Senate. The sun shined through the tall windows as you walked, illuminating the pathway and red carpets. You made your way up the steps and that’s when you stopped dead in your tracks.

You weren’t sure if you were making things up in your mind, if you missed Anakin so much that your mind was playing tricks on you. But at the end of the hall you could swear that was Anakin, walking with . . . That was Ahsoka. So that had to be —

“Anakin,” You spoke out loud, low like a whisper to yourself. It was Anakin, standing at the other end of the hall. You felt your balance go out for a moment and you were almost sent toppling down the stairs until you caught yourself. Your heart rate picked up and it took everything in you not to run up into his arms, knowing that you were all being watched in the Temple and there was no way to have alone time with him no matter how much you wanted to.

You walked at a faster pace now, coming within range of his eyesight and Anakin’s features immediately softened upon looking at you, a small smile making its way onto his face that you reciprocated, hoping to not gain the attention from his Padawan learner. When finally, finally you were only a foot in front of him, you felt at ease again. Anakin was alright, he didn’t die or get gravely injured like the news always made things out to be. He was here and although you could see cuts and bruises on his face that have seemingly gotten uncared for yet, you were more relieved than you had ever felt in your life. It had been too long without him, you supposed, too long without his touch or his love.

Ahsoka was the first to speak up. “Hi, Y/N, what’re you doing here?” Her tone was happy, which led you to believe that whatever they did in the Outer Rim turned out successful. You loved Ahsoka, but right now you wished that it was just you and Anakin.

“Just getting Senator Amidala some papers, Ahsoka, how was your mission?” You asked, eyes darting from her to Anakin, who looked at you with soft, longing eyes.

“It was . . . Stressful. But Master Skywalker led the whole 501st by himself!” Ahsoka exclaimed, giving her Master a grin. You couldn’t help but smile, thinking about the fearless leader and how passionate he was about helping the Republic. How he was yours, all yours and he loved you just as much, if not more, than you did him.

A few more words were exchanged before Anakin said, “Why don’t you go get some rest, Ahsoka. You deserve it.” It seemed as though Ahsoka didn’t need to be told twice, the girl saying a quick goodbye and walking off in the other direction. Now it was you and Anakin in the hallway, looking into each other's eyes as if you were both having a silent conversation between one another without any movement. You weren’t sure what to say, actions spoke louder than words anyways and all you wanted was to be near him, be in his arms so that the fist of anxiety clenching your heart was finally gone.

He had a small smile on his face that made your heart warm, one that you reciprocated and looked around to make sure that no one was eavesdropping. In the Temple you were never really sure how far your talking would go, if others could hear the whispers spoken between you two from other hallways. There was no one there, thankfully.

“I’m sorry I-”

“When will-”

You two spoke at the same time, making a laugh erupt from the both of you. You took a moment to admire him, thinking about how much you missed the little things about him like his laugh. “You go first,” You told him.

Anakin nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming back. I wanted to make it somewhat of a surprise but then you were here and . . .” He trailed off. You shook your head and flashed a smile, signalling that all was fine. You found it endearing that he was planning on surprising you, it seemed as though you were on his mind the whole time as much as he was on yours.

“It’s okay,” You said. “When will you be able to stop by my apartment?” That is where you usually stayed when he was on Coruscant and he could get away, since it was way easier having Anakin sneak out of the Temple there instead of him sneaking you into the Temple. You had to admit that now that you knew he was here, your anxiousness got worse, wanting him all to yourself as quickly as possible.

“I still have to report to the Council. Then I’m all yours. An hour?”

“It’s a date.”

~

The waiting was excruciating even though it was only an hour. It was almost as if waiting for an extra sixty minutes was worse than the extended time you had just been away from him. Perhaps it was because you knew that he was here, alive and well, and wanted to see you just as badly as you wanted to see him. You tried passing the time looking through the holonet, and then deciding to take a quick shower to wash off anything from today.

Opening your drawer and putting on the last of your outfit, some black lounge sweatpants, you heard a knock on the front door of your apartment and your heart practically leapt out of your chest. You needed to remember to give Anakin a key sometime soon, knowing that this wasn’t going to be the last time he came over and he almost practically lived here whenever he was on Coruscant. You walked and opened the door, being met with Anakin’s smiling face and big, strong arms wrapping around your frame, walking both of you backwards as his foot kicked the door behind him closed.

You leaned into his touch, memorizing all that you could from this moment for later. His soft, plush curly hair brushing against your cheek, the smell of fresh breeze and some type of floral scent that was most likely his body wash. It was so inherently Anakin and you were surrounded by it, you loved it. You loved him.

“I missed you so much,” He spoke first, pulling away to make eye contact. His blue eyes looked down at you and you couldn’t help but lean up and press a small kiss to his lips, the smile on your face growing wider as you pulled away. Your eyes scanned his face, taking note of a few cuts and bruises that littered it, almost causing you to frown.

Your hand came up and brushed against one, it seemed freshly afflicted. You weren’t exactly sure what the mission he had gone through was about, he would most likely tell you later when both of you got settled. “I missed you too, Ani,” You said. “Do you want me to look at this cut?” It wasn’t as though you were a medic by any means, but basic first aid wasn’t that hard and all you really needed to do was clean it and any others he let you look at.

He didn’t respond with words, only nodding and allowing you to grab his hand and lead him to the bedroom. Your kit was in the bathroom connected to it, quickly grabbing the small white box and sitting down on the bed next to him, getting to work.

“What happened while you were away?” You asked, making conversation as you got the materials out of the box. “These cuts look recent.”

Anakin shrugged his large shoulders, a usual response when you asked about his injuries whenever he came home. This wasn’t new behavior, he always seemed like he was as tough as nails, but it didn’t take much to see that he was tired and glad to be home. The home that was your arms.

As usual, the two of you exchanged some small talk while you tended to his wounds, rubbing the cloth with the antiseptic and covering up the ones along his arms that needed bandages. Bacta worked best for the bruises, covering them up with the oil that would have them healed in as fast as a day or two. Once everything had been looked at, you put the materials back into the box and placed it on the nightstand next to your bed, reaching over to Anakin to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. He came to lay down and pulled you close to him, both of you sitting in the silence for a moment.

“There were so many rumors that you had gotten into too much trouble on your mission. Some people were even saying that you were dead,” You muttered, a small, tiny bit of concern lacing your words. Anakin could feel your worry through the Force and in response, held you even tighter against him. “I didn’t want to believe them, but then you were gone longer than normal and I don’t know. . . I just get so scared sometimes with your line of work.”

Anakin sighed. “There was a setback in the mission and we needed to take caution so that we wouldn’t lose many people. But it’s alright, I’m here with you now. You know that I’ll always come back to you.”

“I know, Ani.”

You turned to face him, the covers shifting comfortably under you. You pressed your lips against his again, relishing in the feeling of having him back all to yourself. You wished that you could keep him here forever, in your large apartment away from the judgement of society: The Senate that expected you to stay away from scandal, and the Jedi Order that prevented Anakin from having any attachment whatsoever. It was a hard world out there, but you were grateful that you were with Anakin through it, you couldn’t imagine being with another person.

Sensing a bit of urgency in your kisses to get as much of him as you possibly could, Anakin responded with the same passion, his hand coming up to stroke your cheek and the gloved one coming to push himself on top of you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and trapped him against you while the two of you kissed. Your hands reached for his hair and tugged, spurring him forward and biting your bottom lip with a groan.

He detached his lips from your own and instead began kissing along your jawline, stopping for a second to inhale the scent of yours that he missed more than anything. And then he started again, kissing all the way down your neck and deciding to leave a tiny mark on a part of your collarbone that would be somewhat easier to conceal. It was rare that he did leave the marks this high up, but in this urgency he couldn’t seem to control himself all that much. You wined out, pushing your hips forward and meeting his own.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” He muttered in between kisses against your neck, hand moving down and coming to the edge of your work blouse, working to get it off of you as fast as he could but stopping for a moment to make sure that you wanted to go farther. You fervently nodded, helping him in taking your shirt off and throwing it down onto the ground near your bed. Quickly, you did the same thing with his shirt, untucking it from his pants and the moment it was off you ran your hands along his torso, marveling in the fine edges of his body. “All I could think was coming back to you and now that I’m finally here I’m blown away by how beautiful you are.” His words made you blush, as well as send a shock downward towards your core.

You needed him, you simply couldn’t wait anymore. You had waited for too long and you weren’t in the business of stopping any time soon and it was clear that he felt the same way. While you were waiting for him to come home, it wasn’t too apparent how much you truly missed him because after a while you found some other ways to occupy yourself. But now that he was here, all those feelings of want were coming back to you and you couldn’t help but start to speed up the process.

“Anakin, please, I need you now. I can’t wait anymore,” You whispered to him, loving the way that his lips felt while they kissed every single inch of your chest. You wanted to slow down and at the same time wanted to speed up, it was an odd feeling. But there would be more moments for the both of you to take it slow, now you just wanted to satiate the feeling that was growing rapidly in your core. He laughed at this, coming to meet your eyes with his own as they had a hint of teasing behind them. You gave him a small smile, but your eyes were glossed over with a type of lust and wanting that you were sure he could tell that you were serious.

In a matter of mere seconds, both of your pants and undergarments were off and he was getting into a more comfortable position on top of you, and you were spreading your legs open and just waiting for him. Anakin took one look down between your legs and muttered some type of curse in Huttese that you couldn’t understand and before you spoke to ask, he was pushing into you.

It felt like bliss.

The moment you adjusted to him and your walls relaxed, he began moving, slowly out and then plunging back into you with intensity. He continued that motion a few times, each making you moan out his name and flying your hands back into his hair, tugging on the golden, curled locks. You moaned out and it was louder than you were expecting, but it seemed to be exactly what he wanted to hear because he started going faster. You could hear the wet sloshing between the two of you and it only made you closer to that peak and the fire within you was almost raging.

Anakin kept kissing your neck until he went up and started kissing your lips. It was a sloppy kiss, all of his concentration was bent on making you feel good but you appreciated it, since you could feel all the love that he was giving you. You matched his pace, lifting up your hips to meet his when they came down and he hit at an even more deeper angle, both of you gasping into one another's mouths.

“Anakin, I’m going to-”

“Me too.”

Your orgasm snuck up on you and placed itself right onto your core, and with one more thrust you felt yourself release and your eyes rolled back into your head. For a moment it felt like you weren’t on Coruscant and you had flown up into the sky, that was how good it felt to be with him again. When you came back to reality, with a roll of your hips, Anakin was right behind you, releasing inside of you. Both of you stirred and he laid down on top of you, breathing heavily to try and catch his breath. Your hands rubbed up and down his back, fingers tracing inconsistent patterns along his skin.

A few more moments passed by and Anakin rose his head up, pressing a small kiss to your nose that made you smile. He also smiled, nuzzling into your neck.

“The second I catch my breath, we should go again.”

It was good to be back.

#Anakin Skywalker #clone wars anakin #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin x reader #star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars prequels #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #star wars smut #anakin x you

[kkrazy256]

“ i thought i lost you. ” with my fav bros Fox and Thorn? <3 (all the sentences are soooo good)

Hey Amiko <3 Hope you don't mind that I used this prompt for CommanderFoxWeek @loving-fox-hours

Title: Redemption Inside the Grave

Prompt(s): Day 2: Hope | Forgiveness, "I thought I lost you"

Warnings: None

Characters: Commander Fox and Commander Thorn

Additional Tags: Post- Scipio, Commander Fox Needs a Hug

Word Count: 1821

[On Ao3]

The amount of datawork that sits on Fox’s desk after a mission is usually a good indicator of how it went. 

Good missions start with stacks of blueprints, detailed strategies, and the files of his best troops. These missions end with minimal thanks (it’s expected, it’s what they’re made for. What need is there to show gratitude?), and most troopers on the file with their status update still green and labeled functioning. There isn't much datawork for these types of missions. 

Bad missions start hurried by time and Senators, with minimal preparation, and not enough vode (never enough vode). They end with everyone important mad. Mad at him (of course, who else? He deserves it. He deserves it all. He fucked up. He’s always fucking up). It ends with spitting insults about incompetence and hurling threats of decommissioning. But none of it hurts. At least it never hurts more than the blocks of red (deceased) on the files he has to read through and sign off on. These missions end with more vode coming back in bodybags than on their feet, and Fox can’t help but think, I did that to them.  

The worst missions? It’s the ones where he wakes up underwater, a weight heavier than an anvil over his chest, stealing every breath and pushing him deeper and deeper into the dark. Missions where he does things he doesn’t fully comprehend beyond I followed my orders, I am a good soldier. Only to look back and think, is he?  

It’s holding up his blaster with still hands and perfect calm. It’s taking deadly aim even when he sees the resignation in Rex’s eyes and feels nothing. Nothing until the body hits the floor and he can’t take his own helmet off to pay respects because what right does he have? Because his hands are finally starting to shake, the weight of his actions hitting all at once and dragging him to the bottom of the ocean floor. 

But this, 

Fox looks down at the stack of datapads on his desk. The room is dark, the desk lamp unplugged and on the ground. There are no windows. The air is stuffy and stagnant; he wonders if they are cleaning the vents again. 

The top datapad lights up when he lifts it. The halo of blue illuminates his immediate area. The helmet sitting at the corner looks purple, the visor staring back at him like a void. Every time he blinks, it burns from somewhere behind his eyes. Fox doesn’t remember the last time he truly slept. (Before the ARC trooper, before Scipio —) 

It’s a mission summary report, written hastily enough for there to be a few typos. It’s short, barely a few paragraphs long, and his eyes glide over the words without retaining anything. His focus is on the attached list of updated statuses.

It’s all red. Red Red Red Red.

He thinks these types of missions are even worse than the ones where he doesn’t have control. 

 Red Red Red.

These missions should not end like this. They go prepared, they go with their best. 

Red Red Red.

So why do they end like this?

Red Red Red —

Green. 

The stack of datapads shift slightly, and the desk trembles as a shadow settles on the edge.

“If it breaks, I’m stealing your desk.” He pinches the bridge of his nose hard, and the throbbing ebbs away into something dull. 

“Does that mean you’ll do my datawork too?” Thorn’s voice is light and teasing, but something’s off. He leans forward to pick up the helmet and the blue lights up his face. His eyes are tired, but the crinkling around the edges always betray his mirth. There’s no crinkling there right now; Thorn just looks exhausted. His hands turn the helmet around, fingers tracing over the painted wings on the temples. 

“I’ll do it for Scipio.” Fox blurts out, and the fingers pause. 

“You don’t have to.” 

“I do,” Fox doesn’t know why he does, but there’s something pressing in the back of his brain, telling him that he shouldn’t let Thorn do it, “you should get some rest. Remedy would kick your sheb if he finds out you came here instead of to medbay.” 

“Well, you don’t have to snitch.” Thorn sniffs and Fox shakes his head with a scoff. He picks up the stylus to start going over the report in detail.

A gloved hand lands on the corner of the datapad, and Fox looks up. Thorn’s eyes reflect the blue glow, flickering to read the upside-down words. 

“Hawk found me.” Thorn whispers.

Fox remembers the pilot during one of the 501st’s shore leaves. Thorn’s batchmate is slightly more serious than Thorn himself, but they share the same air of wild freedom, unable to be tied down. He remembers them taking off their helmets with matching grins, showing him their twin emblazoned wings. 

“How’d he look?”

“Horrified. Scared.” Thorn’s laugh is humorless, “I thought he was going to kill me himself if I wasn’t a—.....it wasn’t pretty, Fox.” he swallows hard, “there wasn’t much we could do.” 

“...You went with less than two platoons. None of us were expecting the level of activity you got.” 

The hand pulls back, leather creaking under the pressure of a clenched fist, “I lost them all, ori’vod.” 

“But you’re here.” Fox places his own hand over Thorn’s. Everything feels cold, “I...it’s not your fault.” 

“I think if any fingers are to be pointed, it would be towards the commanding officer during the mission, Fox. Which would be me.” 

“You weren’t supposed to be the one leading Scipio.” Fox snarls and the aftermath of his outburst echoes through the room. He takes a shuddering breath.

“I was.”

“Fox…”

The air gets stuck in his lungs, and he kneads his palms into his eyes hard enough to see sparks behind the lids. 

Scipio was supposed to be his mission. But he was—still is, a complete and utter wreck. After the incident with the ARC trooper, he hadn’t had a chance to stop. It became a blur of meetings. With the Chancellor, with Skywalker, with Rex, with his Guard. All with little variation. Everyone just wanted to know, what happened?  

And Fox didn’t have a good answer for any of them.  

He’s so tired.

And Thorn had found him in his office then, just as he did now. He had found Fox sitting at his desk with the stylus in a death grip, staring at plans and contingencies. Found him running on fumes that not even caf could fix at that point. Found Fox in his arms immediately to steady him when he stood and started careening to the side. 

I fucked up, Thorn. I fucked up so bad. 

I’ll go to Scipio. We’ll talk more when I get back, alright? Please get some rest, ori’vod. Please.

And Fox had agreed. Because he was tired.

Tired of seeing the ARC trooper’s bone-white armor out of the corner of his eye every time he started to slip. Tired of the Chancellor’s oily praise for a job well done in killing a vod for the Republic. Tired of Skywalker’s needling curiosity. Tired of Rex not blaming him. Tired of everyone telling him, it’s—

“Fox, it’s not your fault.” Thorn’s words from before the mission mesh with the words that Thorn’s repeating right now. 

“Well, who’s is it then?” Fox snaps, slamming his palms back down on the desk. His vision blurs with random patterns from the prolonged darkness, and Thorn’s image swims in front of him. He had gotten about an hour of unconsciousness before his comm beeped with urgent matters from the Chancellor. He’s been on his feet ever since. 

He should’ve just stole some stims and gone to Scipio. 

“Why aren’t you all angry?” He continues, the plastic of the datapad strains under his grip, “not you, not Stone, not Thire. Not—” He stutters, “not Rex. None of you are, and I don’t understand .” 

“Why do you want us to be, Fox?” 

He falters, heart stuck in his throat. It beats erratically and his stomach turns. 

If they’re mad, there’s something to work with. He can apologize (even if it means absolutely nothing). Amends can be made (how. You fucking bastard, how?) He can fix it. He has to fix it. 

How?

“You want us to be angry because you’re angry with yourself.” Thorn sets his helmet down, leaning forward to study Fox with dark eyes that see through his very core. 

His lips curl upwards.

“Oh, ori’vod. You want us to forgive you.” 

There are tears in Thorn’s eyes. (Or are they his own?) 

Thorn’s forehead presses against his, and Fox presses back with a sobbing exhale. 

“You already have it. We’re not the ones you’re looking for forgiveness from.” 

 A strand of long hair slips from Thorn’s ponytail and brushes against his cheek. It hits Fox with a sudden urge for how things used to be. Back when the war had only just started, and they were all shiny and thought things would get better. Back when he had enough time and energy to sit in the command lounge and braid Thorn’s hair clumsily. 

Hound’s better at this than I am, you know.

Mmm, yeah but I want my ori’vod to braid my hair.

Spoiled little kih’vod. 

“I thought I lost you.” He manages between hitched keening breaths ( when had he started to break down? Just now? Months ago? Two years ago?) 

“I’m never gone, ori’vod.” Thorn hums, reaching up to squeeze the back of his neck. It’s so cold, “Just marching—” 

Far away. 

The door to his office opens, and Fox jumps back. 

“...You alright, Fox?” Stone stands at the entrance, a datapad in his hand. 

Fox blinks, glancing down at the one in his own hands.

The list of troopers stares back, every name in red.

The Separatist Blockade was successfully broken through. Senator Padmé Amidala was safely extracted from Scipio under the command of Jedi General Anakin Skywalker and the 501st Legion. 

No other Republic survivors were extracted. Recovery efforts have been approved and engaged. 

 — CT-4991 (Hawk) 

“Fox?” 

“...What is it?” 

“The recovery mission on Scipio just returned. We’re heading to the crematorium right now.” Stone shifts on his feet, “you coming?” 

“...Yeah.” Fox reaches for the helmet on his desk, red and black without any wings. His eyes feel crusty and swollen. At this point, he has no idea if they’re even open and seeing the right things anymore. 

He’s so tired.

Fox slips the helmet on and stands. The world spins, and he bites his tongue hard enough to taste blood. He walks towards Stone. 

“You sure you’re alright? I could have Thire take the next shift. He’s—” Stone’s breath hitches, “he’s up for promotion now anyway.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Fox says as he passes his Second, stepping out into the hallway.

He’ll be fine.

/

<3

[ao3]  if you wish to drop a kudo/comment :) 

#commanderfoxweek2021 #commander fox #tcw #star wars #sw mine

[ethvn-torchio]

Can't Stop Staring At Those Ocean Eyes | Anidala Oneshot

(hey here's some Anidala fluff nobody asked for!!)

Can't Stop Staring At Those Ocean Eyes | Anidala Oneshot

Warnings: discussion of pregnancy, otherwise it's just fluff with some angst sprinkled in idk

(it's honestly just pillow talk-y fluff let's be real)

She settles in his arms, a welcome respite from the cold night air drafting in through the window.

"Anakin...if we chose to have children, how many would you want?" She asks, tracing lazy patterns across his bare chest, absentmindedly tracing a fresh scar.

"I dunno,” He answers honestly. “I suppose I don't mind kids. Some of the younglings at the temple are nice enough...except that Grogu," he adds with a grumble. "I suppose I wouldn't mind one of my own. Why do you ask?"

"I still don't understand why you let yourself get harassed by toddlers," Padmé giggles.

"Don't laugh!" Anakin pouts. "Grogu and his...toddler clique stole my lightsaber earlier," he appends with a grimace.  

Padmé, meanwhile, attempts to stifle her laughter. The mental image of Anakin being bullied by a bunch of toddlers was thoroughly entertaining.

"Okay...but seriously, why are you asking? Is everything okay?" Anakin asks, genuinely concerned. 

She sighs, locking eyes with him. "Don't panic, but my cycle is late. Don't get excited though, it's probably nothing. It just...made me think, you know?" She says softly, letting her mind wander. She could almost see it now - a child that was a perfect mix of the both of them. 

"Oh," is all he can say. How was he supposed to react? Padmé could be pregnant. “But it’s probably nothing, right?”

“Yes, I’m sure it’s fine,” she responds smoothly. "Don't let this...hang over your head. It's fine, I'm sure. You watch, I'll get it tommorow or something," she chuckles lightly.

"So...it's not for certain? We're okay, then?" He asks, unable to hide a bit of anxiousness in his voice.

"Mmm-hmm," she pauses, trying to think of something to change the subject. "Hey, are you going back to the Temple tomorrow or tonight?"

She can feel him relax a bit at the distraction. "Probably early tomorrow morning. I'll be gone by the time you wake up. We ship out for Cato Neimoidia tomorrow afternoon, and then after that, we're going to Anaxes. But I bet you I'll be back soon, I don't see either of these campaigns taking long."

"I sure hope," Padmé yawns. "I hate how often you're gone. It seems more than usual lately," she snuggles closer, holding him one last time. "I wish I didn't have to go to sleep,"

I know," he responds with a sigh. "I'll be back, I promise."

"Promise?" She asks.

"Yeah, I promise." He kisses the top of her head gently, wishing he could be there when she wakes. 

Sadly, that was a luxury neither of them had.

"I could leave, you know," he blurts. "I would do anything you asked if it made you happy." he says, earnestly, grasping her hand.

"I...you don't mean that, Anakin. The Jedi need you. The clones need you. The Republic itself needs you! You can't leave,"

"But I would," he presses on. "I would. Say the word and I'll leave it all behind."

His deep blue eyes are boring into her soul; nearly asking her to say it. 

"I..." she trails off. She knew that all she had to do was ask him to leave, to leave all of his responsibilities behind - and if she asked, he would leave it all behind in a heartbeat.

Something flickered in Anakin's eyes: he could feel her wavering resolve, but he remained silent. 

It didn't matter, anyway; she couldn't bring herself to do it. It was selfish, and it wasn't how it was meant to be - at least for now, anyway.

..But was it really selfish to want a normal life?

Perhaps it wasn't. They had both known the repercussions; they knew what was going to happen if they pursued a relationship. 

Resolutely, she decides she can't say it. It wasn't fair of her to ask him to abandon what he had worked most of his life for, even if he would just for her. "...I love you, Ani." she finally says. 

He sighs contently, pulling her closer. "I love you too," he says without hesitation.

"Would you be..." He pauses, attempting to figure out how to word his question. "Would you be upset? If you weren't pregnant, I mean."

"I'd be more relieved if anything, but...it would be nice though, huh?" She murmurs quietly as she gently lets her fingertips trace a scar on his side. "A little version of you and me running around."

He laughs at that. "I don't think you'd want a mini-Anakin running around." 

"Maybe not," She snorts. "But you know what I mean, right? A little baby...the perfect combo of you and I." her hand unthinkingly moves to her lower abdomen. 

"Yeah, I know what you're saying," he says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Sounds scary, if you ask me," he half-jokes.

"And so I've found the one thing the 'hero with no fear' is scared of," she teases. 

"Oh, yeah?" He tickles her side in retaliation, making her squirm as she tries not to laugh. 

"Anakin!" She manages to squeal, even as she finally gives in and attempts to wiggle away from him. He kisses the side of her head gently before letting her go. 

"Okay, okay, I'll give you your space," he says with a grin. "I win."

She tilts her head. "Is that so?" before Anakin can react, she darts her hands out to his sides, attacking him with relentless tickles. 

Anakin quickly realizes that she's fighting dirty, tickling him near his ribs and trying to keep him from retaliating, but to no avail. “Hey, no fair!”

"No fair?" She replies. "You started it!"

Anakin tries to bat Padmé’s hands away, but nearly falls off the bed while doing so.

She stops for a second, “Oh...whoops.” She mutters, before she realizes she's gotten the high ground in this situation. “Ha! Gotcha. I win."

"Okay, okay! You've made your point!" He says, laughing as he gets back on the bed.

They sit in comfortable silence for a minute, before finally, Padmé yawns once again, settling into his embrace as they wordlessly lie down. "I... I'll miss you, Ani." She breathes.

"You know I can't stay away for long, Padmé. And before you know it, this war will be over. I promise you." His hands trail through her hair, tracing soothing lines along her scalp. 

She sighs, her eyes growing heavy. "And once it's over...we can be free then. We could go to Naboo," she says dreamily. "Maybe then, we could start a family." 

"Yeah," Anakin agrees. "I like that," 

That night, Padmé goes to sleep dreaming of what could be. Maybe, she really was pregnant. Maybe, the war would be over soon and they could go back to Naboo.

She knew the perfect spot at the lake house for a baby's room.

In her mind's eye, she could see picnics, could see her and Anakin teaching their child to swim, could see a future that wasn't so full of war and chaos and stress. 

Their relationship wasn't normal; it wasn't the typical relationship you'd see with normal couples who could freely be in love. 

Perhaps someday, things would be different. Perhaps someday, they could get that happy ending on Naboo.

But for now, it was little moments like this that made it all the more worth it.

-----------

mini taglist this time!!! @thereblogcrusader @haydens-moles because frankly they were the only ones I can think of atm that noticed my other fluff fic so yEah, also @anidalalover99 would enjoy this methinks :v

comment or rb if you enjoyed idk y'all know the drill and I'm frankly exhausted bcs its 3:10 am so do what you wish

oh yeah I'm gifting this to @stillmourningtonystark bcs I read some of her fluff and it was just 🥺 it killed me and I was like "I need to write fluff now" so uh yeah check her out

#anidala #fluff #angst #anakin skywalker #Padmé amidala #fanfiction #star Wars fanfiction #fanfic #jo's writing #star wars #i was gonna tag people but see the thing is i legiterally dont care #and yes i said legiterally on purpose shut up #ur girl is tired as FUCK #so ignore low quality writing #i literally wrote this at 1-3 am soo 😩✋ #whatever anyway #ok goodbye and goodnight im gonna go sleep for like 10 hours slhsksjelsdh

[nanagoswife]

Noticing You, Noticing Me

Chapter Eleven

Summary: Reader introduces Obi-Wan to a friend.

W/C: 3.2k

Warnings: None? Please feel free to correct me.

A/N: Yes I used Epona from The Legend of Zelda as the model of reader's horse. Like, look at her. Can you blame me?😂

- - -

On the carriage ride home, you had fallen asleep in Obi-Wan’s loving grasp. You were awoken by a gentle call of your name.

Padmé hadn’t joined you on the way back. She instead elected to stay the night with her family.

So, it was just you and Obi-Wan as the carriage stopped. You had been a bit hazy, but he helped you. Every step of the way he made sure you wouldn’t fall back to sleep as you still stood.

You clung to his arm as you made your way through the hallways. The feeling of his warmth made you feel safe. There was no doubt in your mind that he would make sure you got back safe and sound back in your room.

Once you had gotten there, he made sure you were comfortable in your bed.

“Goodnight, my love,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead before turning towards the door.

“Obi, wait!” you quietly exclaimed, a slight sense of panic rising in you. You didn’t want to be alone, not after all that had happened. No, you wanted your future husband to stay with you. You wanted the man you loved to stay.

The call made him pause in front of your door, turning to face you. “Yes, darling?”

“Will you… stay? Please?”

You watched as his expression softened in the light of his lamp. Then, you watched as he looked conflicted. Like he was thinking that it may be something that he shouldn’t do, but that’s not what won over.

Obi-Wan walked back over to the other side of your bed. “Alright,” he whispered, leaning across the mattress to cup your cheek as he leaned over you. “I’ll stay.”

That’s how you got to this moment as you watched Obi-Wan sleep as the sun slowly rose, welcoming the morning.

When you had first awakened, his back was facing you. You had to keep yourself from tracing all of the freckles that were sprinkled over his shoulders. It was like his back was its own night sky full of constellations.

Your admiration was cut short when he had turned in his sleep to face you. So, you studied his facial expression like you had the morning before. Slowly, your eyes drew down to look at a specific scar that lined his collar bone, cutting across his sternum. A part of you wondered how he got it, if it was painful.

It had taken a great deal of self control to not kiss it the night you first saw it. Hell, it had taken you immense self control to not kiss every inch of his skin that had been exposed. That wasn’t the time, though.

Unlike the other morning, you did nothing to wake him. You had no desire to. Not with the way his hair seemed like it burned like fire as the sunlight touched the amazingly soft strands. It was too perfect to ruin the moment just for his attention.

As you watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, excitement grew at the thought of spending so many mornings with him just like this. Only, when that happens, you’ll be his, and he’ll be yours. Eventually, the two of you would have a family.

The thought made you smile, having kids with him. It just seemed so natural with Daisy and Christian. Obi-Wan had even almost slipped and said that you were their mother. You thought it was sweet. Not only that, but it told you that he was thinking the same things you were that day.

Your thoughts were broken as Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes, smiling when he saw you were already awake.

“Good morning,” you said quietly, feeling your lips curl into a smile as well.

He mumbled the words back as he raised a hand to cup your cheek. His blue eyes gazed into yours, switching between the two for a couple seconds before settling on one. Then, slowly, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours.

Both of you seemed to sigh in relief at the contact. The longer you moved your lips against his, the more Obi-Wan seemed to lean over top of you. You didn’t mind, though. The feeling of his weight gently pressing into you was amazing. It made you feel something that you don’t think you’ve ever felt before.

What you did know was that your arms were wrapping around his neck, your hands finding their place in his hair at the back of his head. It wasn’t long after that, that you felt his tongue press against your lower lip.

Without a single thought, you opened for him, feeling his tongue glide over yours. The hand he had on your cheek slowly guided its way into your hair. It was a feeling that sent chills down your spine as you gently tugged at Obi-Wan’s hair. The light scratching of his beard didn’t help quell that feeling.

He groaned at the sensation, the vibration from his chest transferring to yours.

A few more moments went by before Obi-Wan pulled his lips away, resting his forehead against yours. Both of you were breathing heavily, your breathing fanning over the other’s face as you looked into each other’s eyes.

“Was that better than the poems?” Obi-Wan suddenly said cheekily.

You chuckled as your hands slid to hold both sides of his face. “Better than any literature I can think of.”

“Are you sure?” He kissed you. “Not even,” he kissed you again, “Shakespeare?”

Laughter erupted from you as he dipped down and rubbed his bearded cheek against your neck. It tickled you so much that you even had your legs nearly kicking underneath the blankets.

Obi-Wan’s own laughter filled your room before he kissed you again.

“Now, what were you thinking of doing today?” he asked, resting his forehead against yours.

“How are you with horses?”

-

“This is Graham,” you said as the horse greeted you.

Graham was a beautiful light brown. His flowing mane was a beige, as was his tail. The long, slender legs faded into the same colour around the hooves. He looked like a powerful horse, one that you would most likely see in a race.

Despite his appearance of what could seem like an intimidating figure, he was nuzzling into your face, causing you to giggle at the playfulness.

“Oh, Graham, I know. I know,” you said in laughter. “It’s been too long.”

Watching as your horse continued to shower you in attention, Obi-Wan could feel his smile never left his lips. It was plastered on as he saw the clear connection between you and Graham. All of it made him think about his similar connection with his own horse, Boga.

“I’ve had him for years,” you started, now turning your gaze to Obi-Wan’s as you pet the side of the horse’s neck. “He’s a huge cuddlebug. That doesn’t mean he can’t get in a good run, though. Right Graham?”

Graham gave a small whinny in response, solidifying his response with a stomp of his hoof.

Obi-Wan admired the moment. Nothing could make him move from this spot as he wished to only look at you like this. That was short lived as you came over to him and pulled him over to Graham.

“Graham, meet Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, meet Graham.”

-

You watched as Obi-Wan put his hand into a loose fist, bringing it up to Graham’s nose. “Hello there, Graham,” he said softly.

If you were being honest, you were nervous for this interaction. Although the only negative interaction between your horse and another was Varlo, Graham had a habit of not acting… fairly.

With you, you never had a problem. But you had heard that there were odd times where Anakin would take him out and your trusty steed would be either stubborn or mischievous.

For a while, you never believed it until one day you witnessed it. At the time, it was kind of comical. Anakin had been riding Graham and you had been watching to see if your brother was telling the truth. He was. As soon as Graham had seen you, he almost seemed to snap back into the horse that you knew. You remember laughing for what felt like hours at Anakin’s defeated look.

Now, you were just hoping that reputation wouldn’t be passed on. A part of you was worried that Graham would possibly nip at Obi-Wan, like he had with Varlo.

That’s not what happened. Instead, you watched as Graham instead nuzzled his nose against Obi-Wan’s fist. With almost no hesitation, Obi-Wan switched laying his palm flat, running his hand up, across the white strip on Graham’s forehead, all the way to his ears. There, he ran his hand to the side of the horse’s neck.

You were amazed. Not once did you see Graham open up so quickly to anyone other than you.

“Do you have an apple?” Obi-Wan asked, breaking you from your stunned silence. You were glad that his attention was still on the horse in front of him. That meant he wouldn’t have seen how you almost panicked as you tried to register what he was asking.

“Um, yes, right here.”

From the bag that you had brought with you, you pulled one out and handed it to him.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Obi-Wan muttered as he let Graham eat the apple from his palm.

You smiled at the sight before joining the two. “Shall we go for a ride? Maybe find a place out by the lake once the sun goes down?”

Obi-Wan glanced at you with a smirk, nodding.

-

You could’ve sworn that the afternoon never even happened. All you knew that it was a time spent in laughter. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

As you rode Graham through the countryside, Obi-Wan sat behind you. His arms were wrapped around your middle, holding himself close to you as the wind flew by.

At one point, your concentration on the sensation of riding a horse again was broken due to the man behind you. He had leaned down, letting his beard lightly scratch at the exposed area of skin on your shoulder. After what felt like an eternity, his lips caressed the skin there. A shiver ran down your spine as he pressed one more to your skin before moving up, kissing the delicate skin of your neck.

You had been so distracted by the feeling that you hadn’t noticed Obi-Wan taking the reins.

“One should not get distracted when controlling a horse, my dear,” he whispered into your ear, pulling back with a cheeky grin.

You rolled your eyes with a chuckle. “You are impossible, Prince Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan gave you a crooked smirk. “I apologize, Princess,” he said, bringing Graham to a stop as he continued to lean closer. “Is there something I can do to make it up to you?”

“Perhaps,” you whispered back, turning your head so you were facing him. Your lips were so close to his and soon it was gone. The feeling of his lips on yours was like a breath of fresh air. Sure, it hadn’t been that long since the two of you had kissed. It didn’t stop you from enjoying the feeling as if it were.

This moment felt like it could last forever before Graham whined, shifting and stomping a hoof. He wanted to get moving, and you could tell.

The two of you laughed at the impatience.

“Alright, alright,” you said to Graham with a chuckle, rubbing the side of his neck. “Just a couple more minutes.”

Graham responded with a small snort before turning his attention to a patch of grass.

You turned back to Obi-Wan who had an amused look on his face.

“Did that work?” Obi-Wan asked quietly, leaning closer to you once again.

“Maybe,” you replied teasingly.

Just as Obi-Wan’s lips were about to reconnect to yours, you prodded Graham back into motion. This caused Obi-Wan to scramble to get his grip back so that he wouldn’t fall due to the sudden start.

You laughed when you caught a glimpse of him. His hair was a mess while his eyes had widened. The shocked expression changed to one with mock disapproval before letting out a small chuckle.

This all went on for hours until the two of you decided to stop at the lake. It was the lake that was visible from the balcony the two of you met on. Each and every sight was just as fantastic as seeing it from that vantage point.

You had tied Graham up to one of the trees before grabbing a few things you had packed. One of which was a blanket. As you had set it up, you caught glances of Obi-Wan sneaking apples to Graham as he petted the horse. He tried to hide the fact that he was doing it, but failed. You knew exactly what he was up to.

Silently, you came up next to him as he pet Graham lovingly while sneaking another apple. Placing a gentle hand on his arm, he jumped, pretending like he wasn’t feeding your horse the fifth apple of the past few minutes.

“At least we know he’s not being starved,” Obi-Wan had said in protest when you told him that he was feeding Graham too many apples.

All you did was chuckle, shaking your head as you turned away.

“Are you going to join me? Or is Graham now the one you love?” you said over your shoulder playfully.

And that’s how the majority of the evening went. The two of you ate some food that you had packed before reading. Obi-Wan insisted on bringing a book that he thought you would like.

This all went on as the sun went down. At one point, the two of you stopped to watch the sunset. Together, you talked as you watched the sun dip below the horizon. You both watched as the light of the moon and the stars replaced their burning counterpart.

During this, the two of you laid back on the blanket. Your head rested in an area between his shoulder and chest, his one arm around you as his other propped up his head. With his arm wrapped around you, he gently rubbed his thumb in circles.

For a while, the two of you were silent as you listened to the night waking up. The sounds of frogs by the lake, the crickets chirped their lullabies, owls made themselves heard, a warning of a hunt about to begin. Everything combined was hauntingly beautiful as the two of you could only spectate.

Quietly, Obi-Wan began to hum. It was a song that you had heard before, but you couldn’t quite place a finger on it. Not until the song reached a specific part did you realize it was the first song the two of you ever danced to. It was your favourite song throughout your whole life. Now, the meaning has changed. Before, it was the song you learned to dance to with your mother. Oftentimes your father would join in, goofing around with you.

Now, as you listened to him hum the tune, you could only think of him. Everytime you heard it after the ball, you only ever could see him in your mind. The way he smiled when he looked at you, his amazingly blue eyes, the golden auburn hair that glowed in the sunlight. You wondered if he thought something similar whenever he heard it.

“Obi,” you called out quietly, tilting your head so you could look at him. He raised his eyebrows, interested in what you wanted to say as he continued humming. “Would you like to dance?”

Obi-Wan smiled in the moonlight, pausing his humming. “Of course.”

He let you sit up before following you, then helping you to stand. Easily, he pulled you against his body. His hands were immediately placed at your waist before he brought one to hold your hand.

For a moment, he only stared into your eyes as you placed your one hand on his shoulder.

It wasn’t until he once again began to softly hum that he started to sway. Yet, it wasn’t a proper dance just yet. You were admiring the small sparkle in his eyes from the moon. Even though the darkness kept you from seeing the proper blue, you didn’t mind.

After a few more minutes, Obi-Wan began to lead you as he never took his eyes from yours. His humming never wavered. It only seemed to grow in steadiness.

As the song went on, you dreaded its end. This was a moment you wished you could stay in forever. The feeling of his chest pressed to yours, his eyes staring into yours, the feeling of his hand drifting to your back to hold you ever closer, it all added to the experience.

When the song did end, Obi-Wan didn’t stop your dance. Instead, he rested his head against yours.

“I love you,” he muttered, almost in a way where if he didn’t say it that he would cease to exist.

With your hand that was on his shoulder, you brought it up to cradle the back of his head. You splayed your fingers through the soft strands of his hair as you tilted your head just so, slotting your lips with his.

A sigh of relief left your lips as he audibly announced his own. The small, happy groan sent a shiver down your spine.

“Is it… too cold… darling?” Obi-Wan asked between kisses, still slightly swaying with you.

You pulled away, resting your head on his once again.

You shook your head, looking into his eyes in the moonlight. “It’s just right.”

-

The news had spread like wildfire through the castle. To Varlo’s knowledge, this was something that only happened the night before. Why had no one told him that this was going to happen? Did his parents know? Did Anakin or even you know?

All Varlo knew was that he was pacing his room in anger. It was bad enough that the world was made aware of the relationship you and Prince Kenobi had. It would only get even worse as everyone would learn of the engagement.

All of it put a sour taste in his mouth. Before this, everyone was happy. Varlo had the popularity he needed to get around when it came to inter-kingdom relations all while Anakin and his father only helped it along. Although he loved you, Varlo was happy that you had no sort of popularity. Well, none other than being a way for people to get to him and Anakin.

Now, you were the one with the popularity. Ever since the ball, things had never been the same. No longer could the two of you joke around about how ridiculously in love Anakin was with Padmé. There were no more jokes because now you knew the feeling.

Varlo desperately wanted this to end. He wanted to be back on top. Nothing has been going well. He’s now turned into what you were. How you dealt with it nearly your whole life, he didn’t know.

The longer he paced, the more his thoughts rolled through his mind. It wasn’t until he thought of a way to change it back around that he stopped pacing.

“Brilliant,” he muttered to himself. Now all he needed to do was find a way to make his plan work.

- - -

@stardancerluv @where-fantasy-meets-reality @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @mackycat11 @generousrunawaydonut @imabeautifulbutterfly @animalgirl05 @blondekel77 @thereluctantherosrose @cosmicsierra @badbatch-simp24

#obi wan x reader #obi wan star wars #obi wan fic #ewan mcgregor #obi wan kenobi #obi wan x you #fanfic #obi wan x y/n #obi wan fluff #obi wan #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan imagine #obi wan kenobi imagine #obi wan kenobi x you #prince!obiwan #prince!obi #princess!reader #Graham #Varlo

[leorizanzel]

Alright, in the interest of getting this off my chest because I will literally never write this, here's my rough outline for an "everyone lives, no one dies or Falls" AU for Star Wars but make it The Godfather and also sickeningly sweet. And you know it's going to be DinLuke, so why even bother asking?

Most of this is copy-pasta'ed from our group chat with some edits, but here we go!

What if Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi never found Anakin Skywalker on Tatooine, and therefore never becomes a Jedi? What if he attracts the attention of Jabba the Hutt, gets pulled into Jabba's Palace as a Force-sensitive kid that can just Do Things and Make Things Happen, and then eventually grows strong enough and earns enough clout to kick Jabba out of his seat? Anakin Skywalker: Crime Lord of Tatooine.

He'd save his mother from slavery, make sure she was comfortable, and dismantle the slave trade on Tatooine. Possibly even the entire Outer Rim with time. There will be crimes! But y'know, cool crimes.

He could still meet Padmé at some sort of function and they could still get married - he needs a legitimate face to his new empire, and she clearly has a penchant for bad boys - and things can happen apace. He would be neither Light nor Dark, just out here trying to get rich and run his crime empire, nbd.

You’d have Luke and Leia being raised in very different lifestyles - Padmé raising Leia as a stateswoman and Luke being groomed to take over dear old dad’s Extremely Legitimate and Totally Not a Crime Empire business. You could even have a more direct Michael Corleone parallel and have Padmé and Anakin send Luke off to pursue a career path that has nothing to do with crime, but well, who else is going to take over when it's time to retire?

You’d still have interactions with some of our favorites scoundrels like Han, Lando, and Boba that wander through from time to time. Perhaps we have some interactions from Obi-Wan Kenobi, who begs Anakin to at least get some training to handle his Force sensitivity. Once the twins are born, he asks to take the twins to the Temple (to which Anakin threatens to chase him right out of the palace). There's a lot of fun to be had with Luke and Leia in their early twenties, still getting their feet underneath them while contending with the fact that their father is the most feared crime boss in the Outer Rim.

Skipping forward a few years, Anakin's decided it's time to retire and well, it's now on Luke to take over the Family Business. Leia would crush the job, but she has to be as legitimate as possible; it's the best way to keep the business going.

The first major task Anakin gives Luke is to hire a bounty hunter and snatch some dude up that has it coming. No spending limit; only the best for his boy. Of course, Luke reaches out to the Guild and gets Din to take the puck. Not even a couple days pass and Din arrives on Tatooine at the palace with the asshole in tow. It's love at first sight for Luke, but it's another job for Din. Luke Pines with All of His Heart, but it's just not meant to be. He still remains in Luke's patronage throughout the years as he finally takes over for Anakin, and Luke starts considering Din a part of his inner circle. Luke ensures that Din never comes to harm and has safe passage pretty much anywhere he can reach; everyone knows that's Lord Skywalker's bounty hunter.

Anyway, stuff happens and now Din's got a green child and a magic sword and a destiny he doesn't want. Oh, running away from your problems? Need a place to hide?? A place not even the Empire or other Mandalorians would think to find you, much less touch you??? Why don't you come live in my bed palace and settle down here?

Din’s always had a soft spot for Luke - he’s his benefactor, after all. Din’s also oblivious and has no idea Luke’s been holding a flame for him all these years. He’s heard gossip about how strange it was that Lord Skywalker never seemed interested in anyone despite his father marrying Senator Amidala at a very young age, but he figured that was none of his business.

When he arrives at the only place he can think to go, Din’s suddenly swept up in Luke’s loving, caring nature - the child immediately has a crib and a room, Din has some of the best chambers in the palace made up for him, Luke insists upon taking care of the child while Din rests from his ordeal - and he’s like. Wait.

Italicized oh.

Suddenly the fearsome Lord Skywalker, Terror of the Outer Rim, is cuddling Din’s child in his arms and oh no this all makes sense now.

Eventually Bo-Katan and the No Fun Crew show up, and Luke’s about to blow them out of the sky before Din asks him to hear them out. Luke does because Din literally has the man wrapped around his finger, it's so stupid. They show up and demand that their Mand’alor come home; they can’t be without a king. Din’s straight up like nope nope nope and of course Luke wants whatever Din wants, so he tells them to get out. They won’t be denied, so Luke threatens to marry Din right there so they’d have to deal with their MaNd'AlOr being married to the most powerful crime lord in the galaxy.

Meanwhile, Anakin and Padmé, comfortably retired on Naboo, hear about all of this and they’re so proud. Anakin thought his son was just treating the Old Firm like a business - successful, but boring. Now he hears that his baby boy’s starting interplanetary wars because he’s taken in the Mand’alor and protecting him from both Mandalore and the remnants of the Empire? Oh, Anakin's practically glowing.

Din, meanwhile, is adjusting to being a Kept Man. One part of him longs for the stars and adventure again, but another's also like, this bed is comfortable and the food is good and hunting is annoying. Luke doesn't pressure him at all - he knows that he never actually made his feelings plain before and he doesn't want a relationship if it means Din feels obligated to be with him. Ruins the whole point! He gave Din his protection because they've been good friends for years and Luke is nothing if not fiercely loyal, regardless of his emotional connections.

But Din comes around because oh, he's so good with the baby and wow, I never noticed that Lord Skywalker, Terror of the Outer Rim, is actually a very beautiful man and jeez, he's so kind and gracious and loving. So y'know, they decide to get married about it or whatever.

And so ends the tale of Crime Lord Luke Skywalker and Bounty Hunter turned Sugar Baby Din Djarin; I'm never going to write this because I have too many ideas and not enough time, but please have my trash anyway.

#dinluke #skydalorian #Sugar Baby Din Djarin is the only valid Din interpretation tbh #the man is as broke as a joke and deserves to be pampered #someone should do something about that

[giggles-and-freckles]

anidala week day 1: headcanon/missing scene

*hehe trying my hand at some ✨romance✨ this week.*

“You left in a hurry this morning,” she says lightly, brushing his shoulder as she walks behind where he is sitting on the couch. Hunched over, a ball of tension and fire.

“I wasn’t aware I had another option.”

He hears her feet shuffle to a stop and, without looking, he knows she’s at war with herself. Deciding whether or not she should pick this fight. A part of him twists in guilt, but the larger part of him–the dragon–roars and drowns out the humanity. He wants to fight.

She continues walking and Anakin sighs in frustration. Not at her. None of it is ever at her, but he needs her and apparently so does the Republic. That infuriates him. He doesn’t care about the Republic. He just wants Padmé.

“You left this,” she says, coming to sit by him on the sofa. She places a small, black book in his hand. It’s leather-bound and torn in too many places, but it’s ragged appearance does nothing to quell the onslaught of memories that accompany every touch of this book.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, moving to shove the book in his waistband.

Her hand catches his. “I didn’t know you were still drawing.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “You went through it?”

Immediately, something flashes across her face and she recoils into herself. “I’m sorry. I...I didn’t–”

“No,” he says. Then, “No. Padmé, I’m not...I’m not mad. Just surprised. I didn’t…” He sighs heavily and runs a hand down his face. “I’m exhausted. Sorry.”

She grabs the hand before it falls back into his lap and raises it to her lips. “I know,” she whispers, before dropping a kiss on his knuckles. “I miss you.”

He closes his eyes and fights the pricks of darkness that press at the edges of his mind with those words. It shouldn’t affect him like that. I miss you. Those words are good and pure and he’s so tired of feeling guilt and shame and so, so much fear.

Something is wrong with him. He’s known it for a while and so has everyone else. But no one is willing to help him.

“In the back of the book, there was…” Her voice is quiet and he immediately knows. “I just wondered if you’ve thought about trying to reach out again. It might mean something to her. TO have a physical memory of her–”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“That’s not true,” Padmé says immediately. “She’s trying to figure things out on her own. She’s just–”

“She left me,” he grits out.

Padmé pauses. “She did not leave you, my love. She…” Another pause and he knows she’s frowning. “Ani. Stop.”

He hears her voice, but can’t seem to respond.

“Ani, come back. Stop that.”

She squeezes his hand and he blinks quickly. His eyes refocus on her and he tries to pull a smile. Her eyes are wide with concern. But not fear–never fear.

The Force has reserved it’s full load of that particular emotion for him.

“I wish they would let you rest,” she says quietly.

Anakin pulls a chuckle. “I’m not the one carrying a baby.”

Her face softens, as it always does when they’re discussing their child. Anakin watches her, enraptured by her easy beauty. Padmé Amidala is many things–a leader, a politician, an advocate. But he thinks mother might suit her better than any of the other things.

“How is she?” he says, and moves a hand to her bump.

Padmé laughs, laying her hand over Anakin’s and moving it. “So sure it’s a girl, huh?”

“I told you–”

“The kick,” Padmé finishes just as the baby proves Anakin’s point with a sharp jab. He grins widely.

“I can’t wait to be right.”

“Oh, like your ego needs any more of a boost,” Padmé rolls her eyes, smiling.

He leans back into the sofa and moves an arm around her shoulder, pulling her back with him. Her chin rests on his shoulder, watching him. It feels nice, to be on this side of a longing stare.

“I have a confession.”

“Me, too.”

Padmé blinks in surprise and sits up a bit. “You do?”

“Yeah,” he says easily, nodding his head, “the truth is, Padmé–I’m married. Married to this Senator from Naboo. She’s a real nut, especially when it comes to pens, but I’ve gotta tell you. She’s hot. And–”

She swats at him, laughing. “Oh, stop it. And I’ll have you know, Anakin Skywalker–my pen obsession is valid! Certain pens don’t write the same way!”

“Blah, blah, blah,” he mimics, poking her cheek as he pulls her back down to his shoulder. She settles there with an exasperated huff. “Now, my pen-obsessed-super-mega-smoking-hot wife,” – he ignores the shove into his chest – “what was your confession?”

“I kept some of the drawings,” she says in a tiny voice, her mouth muffled by his tunic.

“Hm?”

“Your sketches–I…” She reaches behind her and withdraws two pieces of flimsi. “I kept these two from your book.”

He takes them into his hand and studies the first one.

“Oh,” he says quietly.

“I just...Ani, I’m...what? Fourteen? Fifteen? In that sketch, it’s…”

“I drew it on the ship back from Naboo.”

“You…” her eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What?”

He looks at her with a small smile. “I’ve always loved you, Padmé.”

She rewards his praise with a deep blush. “Go to the next one,” she says, quietly.

He shuffles the first photo behind the second.

“Is that…”

“Leia.”

“Leia?” she asks.

“Our daughter,” he says, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “We don’t have to call her that, obviously. That’s...it’s just something I thought of. But I–”

“I love it.”

“Well, I–” he freezes, then turns. “You do?”

“I do,” she gives a small nod, wrapping her arm around his and pulling herself closer. She uses her free hand to point to the picture. “Right there...where are we?”

“Naboo,” he says. “I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d be any happier. When this is all over...the war, the Separatists–”

“Yes,” she breathes.

“What?”

“Yes,” she repeats, a bit louder. “As soon as this is over. Let’s leave. We’ll have the baby and–” She scrambles out of his arms so she can look at him properly. “Ani. We’ll be a family.”

“We are a family,” he says, but he’s smiling, too. He looks back at the sketch. It’s rough–a torn edge on one side and stray pencil marks all over. But the idea is clear enough. Padmé stands on the left, in a dress that he’s always loved; he wishes he had pinks and yellows on the transport he drew this on. The edge of the lake laps at her bare feet, because that’s the thing about Padmé–she’ll negate shoes any chance possible. He loves that he’s one of the only ones who knows that. Makes him feel like a real husband.

In the sketch, he’s to her right. One arm, the metal arm, concealed behind her back, as he holds her close to him. But his eyes aren’t on Padmé for once. The little girl in his arms–tugging at one of Anakin’s curls and offering him a gummy smile–holds all of his attention.

“She looks like me,” Padmé says in wonder, her hand absentmindedly trailing up and down her stomach.

“Well, she’ll have my charm, obviously,” he says.

“Obviously,” she snorts. “Though I hope she gets my talent for diplomacy.”

“Hey, my diplomacy is great, thank you very–”

“Lightsabers don’t count!”

“Well, neither do blasters!” he throws back.

She opens her mouth to reply, but closes it. Then, smiles wide, cheek to cheek.

“A family,” she squeals.

He drops a kiss on the crown of her head and takes a breath. As always, she smells of vanilla, nagi-berry, and a twist of mint. Like home.

“Soon,” he sighs, happily. “I can feel it.”

anidala week 2021 themes

#my fic #anidala #I know I know #its ROMANCE bleCH #but just bear with me this week please #:') #anidalaweek2021 #also happy may 4th woohoo!

[tennessoui]

From the prompt list! “Don’t be an ass!” Or “Honestly, just stop it!”

hello hello !! this is set in the smithsonian au, where anakin and obi-wan like each other very much but hate each other's chosen career paths: Anakin works as an astrophysicist in the air and space museum, and Obi-Wan works as a marine biologist/researcher in the smithsonian natural history museum. it's a hate/love thing.

(1.2k) (oblivious obikin)

Anakin’s lunchbreak isn’t nearly as long as he wants it to be. It never is. It’s especially not long enough for him to leave his air-conditioned office in the museum and walk across the lawn of the National Mall in high summer heat and tourist season in order to settle himself in a sticy, cheap metal chair at the restaurant Obi-Wan Kenobi always goes to for lunch.

He always does this anyway, and Obi-Wan always makes a point of being shocked to see him, of asking what he’s doing this side of the Mall, to which Anakin always replies, “Seeing Padmé,” which always makes Obi-Wan’s eyes go a shade darker, his mouth tightening around the corners.

Anakin doesn’t know what it says about himself, the fact that he likes when Obi-Wan is annoyed with him.

But he really likes to needle the man until his nostrils flare, even if Obi-Wan can be so cutting in his responses that Anakin carries a ball of fury around with him til the end of the day.

They usually run into each other at happy hours after work as well. The anger returns during those times, but it’s as if they cannot stay away from each other. Anakin doesn’t want to. Obi-Wan fascinates him endlessly, and he’s so handsome and clever as well.

If only Anakin could go back in time and find whatever that thing was that sparked Obi-Wan’s curiosity and passion for oceanography. If only he could make that moment never happen, then Obi-Wan would be the most perfect person in the entire world.

Anakin doesn’t really mean that. He’s not sure there’s anything he’d really, honestly change about the older man. Not when his favorite part of Obi-Wan might just be his passion.

It’s hard not to see the way he gets about the fucking ocean and—fucking, fucking fish, and not wonder what he’d look like that passionate about Anakin.

Anaakin doesn’t even like this fucking restaurant. Every time he goes here, he knows he’s going to hate whatever they give him. It’s just—it’s—-

The chime over the door rings and Anakin’s head snaps up to look at the newcomers. It’s Obi-Wan. 

But it’s not Padmé that he holds the door open for. Or rather, it’s not just Padmé.

 A redheaded woman brushes past the man at the same time Padmé sees Anakin already sitting at a table. She guides her towards him, which is the sort of thing Anakn isn’t sure he wants.

Obi-Wan had been laughing at something she’d said as they’d entered. Anakin doesn’t know if he’s ever made Obi-Wan laugh.

“Ani! Hello, I was wondering if you’d be here,” Padmé greets him enthusiastically, bending down to press a kiss to his cheek. “Perfect timing. This is Layla, she just started working with the Smithsonian as well.” 

“Oh?” Anakin asks without standing to greet her. His momma would be ashamed of him. “Which branch?”

“Not mine,” Obi-Wan’s voice intercedes as he comes up behind them. “A tragedy of great proportion in my personal opinion. You would be an asset to the team if you gave up on your silly infectious diseases.”

His voice is honey smooth, and Anakin hates it with a vicious passion.

Not as much as he hates the way this Layla laughs and swats Obi-Wan’s arm. “Don’t be an ass,” she says. “It’s much too late for career changes.”

Padmé has sat down next to Anakin, which means the two lovebirds sit down across from him and together. 

Anakin doesn’t think he’d be able to eat anything right now  even if he liked the food they serve.

He tries to rally when the waitress stops by. Obi-Wan gets his usual with the same twinkle in his eyes he always has. Layla hems and haws and asks Obi-Wan what he recommends.

“Everything, I should think. This place has the best barbecue I’ve ever had,” Obi-Wan replies. “Better than in Texas, truly.”

He looks over at Anakin when he says this. Anakin can’t even muster up the energy to snarl at this defamation, because all he can think about is how close the pair’s shoulders are to brushing. They’re sitting inappropriately close for colleagues. There’s nothing professional about this.

He doesn’t even remember what he orders. He thinks he might just get the same thing as Padmé.

Conversation continues around him as he tries to identify the feeling in his gut. It’s angry. But…territorially so. Nothing like the sort of anger he usually feels around Obi-Wan. There’s nothing addicting about this anger. It just makes him feel sick.

The food comes to the sound of Obi-Wan’s gentle chuckle and Layla’s laughter. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard. No, it doesn’t. Anakin wishes it sort of did.

Potato salad? Oh. That’s the worst. He frowns down at his plate. Just what he needed. 

“You’ve been quiet today, Anakin,” Obi-Wan interrupts whatever Padmé had been saying suddenly. “Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

Anakin’s mouth twitches down, but he shrugs. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Is everything alright?” Obi-Wan turns his body towards him completely for the very first time today.

“Yeah,” Anakin tells him. “Just a bit sick, I don’t know.” 

“Sick? And you ordered spicy potato salad? Nonsense, you don’t even like mayonnaise when you’re feeling well,” Obi-Wan says. He puts down his fork—he’s insane and eats ribs with a knife and fork—and glances at his watch. “Let me wave down our server. We can pay now and get take away boxes and I’ll take you for soup. There’s a good pho spot close by. We still have time.”

“Soup? It’s boiling outside,” Padmé says. “We just got our food.”

Anakin bites his lip and looks down at his plate. Is Obi-Wan really suggesting that…he’ll abandon the entire meal—his new paramour and probably future wife—to find Anakin some soup? Because he’s not feeling well?

That doesn’t sound like the Obi-Wan he knows, the asshole with the smirk and the twinkling eyes.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan leans over the table. Anakin blinks at him, speechless, until he feels a hand press against his forehead. “You do feel flushed.” 

“I’m—-I’m fine. It’s just hot in here,” Anakin ducks his head, and Obi-Wan’s palm slips off. Probably for the better, Anakin was starting to feel a bit dizzy.

“Then relocation is pertinent. Layla, as the resident expert on infectious diseases, don’t you think we should be very careful as we proceed?”

Layla’s eyebrows furrow. “I don’t know if I’m the expert on tummy aches?”

Anakin scowls. He doesn’t want to be in this conversation. And, well. Obi-Wan has offered him an escape route. “It’s not a tummy ache,” he snaps, unsure why he wants to snarl at her over his fictitious  illness. “My stomach hurts.” 

Obi-Wan stands from the table. “Padmé, can I entrust you with our leftovers? And the bill? We can settle it this afternoon. I’ll take Anakin for something more soothing now.” 

Layla blinks at both of them, but then her eyes turn to Padmé’s and get stuck. Anakin is too busy looking at Obi-Wan to see what Padmé’s face is doing. Whatever it is, it seems to make Layla sit back in her seat. 

“Of course, Obi-Wan. But only if I get to keep Anakin’s.”

“Have it,” Obi-Wan shrugs as he ushers Anakin towards the door. “He doesn’t like it anyway.” 

“I know,” Padmé calls from behind them. “But I didn’t realize you knew that as well.” 

Anakin blinks and frowns. He hadn’t realized that either.

#asks #obikin #prompt fill #smithsonian au #obi-wan is going to make so much fun while he's eating his soup #anakin is like on the precipice of realizing he is absolutely in love with him #he's just gotta be like oh i was jealous huh #and padme will be like 'omg this is not new information'

[helbertinelli]

How do you think Anakin and Padme are like when they make love? As in who is the dom and the sub? Who is in charge and who isn't? I know that relationship-wise, they're equals, but in bed, how's it like? No need to get into a lot of details though

I like to believe that Padmé often took charge early on because Anakin didn't have any experience. He knew what to do, but he didn't have a lot of confidence. As time passed by though, Anakin grew more confident and took charge more.

I also like to think that whoever is in charge can depend on the circumstances. For example, if Padmé is streessed out from senator work, Anakin takes charge but focuses more on pleasing her, and if Anakin comes home fatigued from battle, Padmé does the same thing for him.

I think that by the time they'd settle down on Naboo, it'd turn into them taking turns a lot more often because they care less about being in charge and more about having sex with the hottest person in the galaxy.

Padme had exactly as much experience as Anakin had when they first made love, which was exactly 0. I don't think that either of them think of their sex life in terms of dom and sub, and it's honestly kinda weird how often "dom and sub" pops up lately when it comes to sex. Neither of them are in charge or both of them are in charge. Unless I'm misunderstanding what you mean and you're referring to which one initiates the love making, then I also think it depends on the circumstances and on whoever decides to make the first move. But if I didn't misunderstand, then they don't care about being in charge and care more about having sex with the hottest person in the galaxy, as you put it. Neither of them are the type to seek control. People like to think Padme is some sex expert and has a control fetish, because she's older and she's in politics, but I didn't hear GL say Padme had sex with anyone before Anakin so there's no reason to think otherwise and if there's any "new canon" material that claims otherwise, I don't think it's very valid as it wouldn't fit in the story of SW (and Anakin and Padme) as George told it. I always considered the movies to be the main canon and other new canon stuff can be accepted but only if it fits in with the rest of the already established story (for example if a new canon book or show comes out that says that Anakin saw Padme again when he was like 16, then that's not really valid because in AOTC, Anakin is 20 and says he hasn't seen Padme in 10 years, so that new canon doesn't fit in with the already established story... or if Vader just decided to go to Exegol for some reason and see Palpatine's entire fleet and army that he'd use like 30-some years later and then Vader just didn't say a word about it to Luke, that would also not be valid, because it doesn't fit in with the established story). Also Padme only went into politics to help people not to seek any control over people. Neither Padme nor Anakin want control over other people, and they definitely wouldn't want control over each other. The thing about their relationship is that they're free when they're together and they're doing things that they both enjoy. Their sex is less about one being in charge of the other and more about enjoying being together and feeling the other pressed against them and being able to kiss and pleasure each other before they get dragged back into reality. I think that during the war, their love making is very rushed and hungry because they've been apart from each other, they don't know when's the next time they'll see each other again, and they don't know how much time they have together. They both long for each other and when they meet they want nothing else than to be together and to be as close as possible and basically make the most of every single second they have together. Once they move to Naboo (in a world where ROTS ended in a different way), they start taking their time when they make love. Their kisses are less sloppy and their lips linger longer (lol alliteration) onto each other, every touch is more careful and with more purpose. Making love becomes less about getting to feel as much of the other person before it's too late and more about exploring and enjoying each other's body. It becomes less rushed and there's definitely way more foreplay involved since they now have the time for it. I know in ROTS Anakin and Padme weren't together much, but in a world where ROTS ended differently, I can see their reunion on Coruscant being a transition between the really rushed and intense love making to the more relaxed and longer sessions. Like their first few nights it would be like it always was when they'd meet during the war, but after a few days they'd realize that they really get to be together now and they can finally enjoy themselves and take their time. Of course in the back of their minds they both know this moment can soon end too, but they get more comfortable with each passing day when Anakin gets to be at home.

#anidala #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #my headcanons #goldens0422 #ask

[anna-pixie]

padawan -> obi-wan kenobi {part one}

              ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

me: has a witcher series to finish which is taking a lot of time

also me: starts a new series about a character i’ve never written for before!

{also trying out a new layout? unsure of what i think of it}

summary: you’re hopelessly in love with anakin skywalker, but he only has eyes for padmé amidala. your heartbreak is starting to effect your performance in the jedi temple, and your position as padawan to obi-wan kenobi is in jeopardy.

pairings: obi-wan kenobi x reader {eventually}

warnings: none

               ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

         ╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Your face is blank as you watch Anakin from across the room, something you’ve learnt to do from many, many months of suppressing your emotions. Though your face no longer betrays you, the way your heart swells at the sight of his smiling face reminds you of your ever present love for the fiery Jedi.

Your warmth stutters, however, when a hand is placed on his shoulder, and Senator Amidala appears from behind him with a smile full of sunshine and grace. You can’t help but slightly purse your lips as Anakin’s whole body reacts to her touch, as though she is a magnet and he is made out of pure iron.

Anakin, whilst being a great Jedi and an exceptional pilot, is not as skilled at masking his emotions. Despite it technically still being a secret, you’re sure that everyone knows of his love for and marriage to the gleeful senator. It was like a punch in the gut when you had found out about their nuptials. You and Anakin had been close friends for years, your friendship was one of those will-they, won’t-they friendships, full of flirty banter and sexual tension. You had liked it that way, you were content that way. Until the day he arrived with the joyful news that he had settled down with Padmé. That was the day that your friendship changed forever, he withdrew from you, became more distant and treated you the way a Master would treat a Padawan - holding you at arms length as though you had never been close in the first place.

It suffices to say that you’re heartbroken, and you wake up every day just as heartbroken as the last. It’s a horrible cycle that has had devastating effects on your training. You’re unfocused, unwilling to put in any extra effort, unwilling to socialise the way you used to because everywhere you go, the two of them are there, as in love as the day they wed.

“Credit for your thoughts?” The melodious voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi floods your ears as he settles himself beside you on the black lounger.

 “I’d like to think my thoughts are worth more than a singular credit, Master.” You joke, leaping to your usual defence mechanism of humor to deflect from the obvious sadness radiating from you. You’ve never met anyone as perceptive to the force as Obi-Wan, both a blessing due to his vast knowledge, but also a curse, due to the fact you can never quite hide your emotions from the Jedi Master.

You had trained under Obi-Wan at the same time as Anakin, however your recent slip ups had meant that while Anakin was promoted to the rank of Jedi Knight, you still remained a Padawan under the guidance of Obi-Wan.

 “Of course, my Padawan, I apologize,” Humor laces his tone, before he turns to face you completely, his expression more serious as he holds eye contact with you, “I do require a serious conversation with you, Y/N, about your recent performance as my Padawan. Please join me in my quarters for a drink of tea. Be there around 7. Enjoy the rest of your day, young one.”

You watch with a fond smile as the older Jedi makes his leave from the bustling room, his robes swishing behind him as he goes. Truth be told, you had harboured a crush on your Master when you first began to train under him. The first few times you met him were spent with longing gazes and a lot of lip biting on your end, but eventually your attention was captured by the flirty, playful nature of Anakin. You wonder how things would’ve turned out if your focus had stayed on the older Jedi master, you know he is very set in his ways, but you wonder if maybe something would have bloomed between the two of you. You can imagine Obi-Wan to be a very gentle lover, in all aspects, the complete antithesis to the damned Skywalker boy you had fallen for.

With a shake of your head, you banish all thoughts of romance from your mind. You’re training to become a full fledged Jedi, attachments are not allowed. That doesn’t mean other things aren’t allowed, that stupid voice in your head reminds you. No, you won’t let yourself think about such things.

              ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your head is hanging low as you stroll slowly through the hallway of the Jedi temple, on your way back to your residence after a long day of not really listening to the things the council had been droning on about. You can tell that people are starting to notice your wavering commitment to the cause, however you honestly cannot bring yourself to care.

 A shriek escapes your mouth as a hard body barrels into your own, almost sending you to the ground had it not been for your quick reflexes summoning the force to keep your body upright. A smile forms on your lips as you hear the tell tale chuckles of Anakin, who seems to have quickly ran out from behind one of the pillars without first checking for passers-by.

“Y/N.” He breaths, an apologetic smile on his face as he gathers himself, brushing his chin length hair back into place, “Sorry about that.” His voice is sheepish and he scratches the back of his head.

 “Don’t worry about it, Ani, walk with me?” You throw out, averting your eyes as you nervously await his response. You don’t know why you even asked, you haven’t been alone with him for a while, he’ll definitely say n-

“Sure. You going back to the residences?” You nod at his question, too shocked by his agreement to form words at the moment. He sends you another smile as you start your trek back to your quarters, your legs moving of their own accord whilst your mind takes a moment to catch up with the current situation. You curse your heart for the way it swells instantly with happiness at the presence of Anakin, simply walking beside him, barely feeling the warmth of him under his robes, makes all the feelings you try so hard to suppress return to the surface.

A noise from behind grabs your attention, and the two of you turn your heads, only to be met with the sight of a giggling Padmé trying to sneak out from behind the same pillar Anakin came from. The familiar sadness hits you like a tidal wave as you face forwards once more, just catching the fond smile on Anakin’s face as he looks back at his wife. The fleeting happiness you get when you’re around him is not worth the floods of sadness that always follow, you think, as the two of you walk silently towards your residences.

“I haven’t seen much of you lately, Y/N. No one has, actually. I know Obi-Wan has been worried about you.” He speaks casually, his tone so breezy that it sounds as if your welfare never even crossed his mind. Obi-Wan is worried about you, fine. But is Anakin? He’s the source of all your pain to begin with.

 “That’s nice of him.” You muse, not even glancing in his direction as you continue walking, hoping that your upbeat tone is enough to quell any curiosity he may have. However, it is not, and you’re stopped when he tugs at your elbow, gripping onto it with a slightly lax grip as he narrows his eyes at you.

 “Seriously, Y/N, what on Tatooine is going on with you?.” His tone is firmer now, and your skin is heating at the feeling of his hand on the bare skin of your arm. You try to find your words as you gaze into his eyes and you quickly realise that you need to get yourself together, lest you want him to feel your true emotions through the force.

“Absolutely nothing.” A tight smile pulls across your lips and you wrench your elbow out of his grip, leaving him standing outside the temple with his suspicious gaze trained on your retreating figure.

 By the time you return to your room, you only have an hour or so before you’re due to meet Obi-Wan for tea. You decide that you must do some meditation before you face your Master, knowing that his concern for your wellbeing will make him more perceptive when he analyses you.

You find brief tranquility, thinking of the lush skies and soft greenery of your home planet Alderaan. It’s not long before your mind is bombarded with the images of what Anakin and Padmé must’ve been getting upto behind the pillar of the temple, stealing secret kisses and laughs because they love each other so much that they can’t possibly wait until they are in private to be together.

Jealousy rolls off you in waves, thinking about how you wish it was you that he was so desperate to kiss, so desperate to hold and be in your presence even though it is forbidden. Accepting the fact that Obi-Wan will be able to sense your negative emotions from a mile away, you begin to get ready to join him.

You’ve never been in a Master’s quarters before, so you’re unsure of whether your usual outfit is appropriate attire for the occasion. A simple tank top, usually a light colour, and matching tight pants, with a sheer sarong wrapped around your waist. Deciding that you doubt Obi-Wan will care what you’re wearing, you decide to forgo any changes. You fix your hair and look in the mirror with a frown as your thoughts take over once more.

What does Padmé have that you don’t? Is it her position in the senate? Her maturity? Her outgoing personality? You had tried to be more like her, more vocal and social in your day to day life, but by nature you are cripplingly shy, so that failed miserably.

               ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Come in, Padawan.” Your Master’s voice sounds from behind the large white door, and you wait patiently as it slides open for you at his command. He is still wearing his robes from the day, you note, as he pours two small cups of herbal tea at the small table next to his kitchenette.

All the Jedi Masters have larger, more equipped residences than the Padawans, and usually make food and eat in their own quarters rather than in the mess hall like the rest of you.

You take a moment to look around Obi-Wan’s room whilst he is momentarily distracted making your drinks. It’s very...him. He seems to have chosen to forgo the harsh, overhead lighting that adorns the rest of the residences, instead having a few dim lamps dotted around that spread a low, moody hue around the room. It is relatively clean, his bed is made, scattered with many comfy looking blankets, yet every free surface seems to be covered by piles and piles of books. You can tell that most of them are old Jedi texts, and a smile tugs at your lips at the dedication of your Master.

 It’s strange to be in here, you feel like you’re completely surrounded by every aspect of him. You can see a spare change of robes hanging on the doors of his closet, probably ready to be worn tomorrow, and the door of his fresher is slightly ajar, allowing you to peek inside if you wish to. There is a dirty plate next to his sink, he must have just finished eating before you arrived, not having time to clean the dish properly. Seeing his room like this, he seems so human to you all of a sudden. He seems so… familiar to you.

“You’re a curious one, aren’t you?” His voice is amused, and you turn to face him with a blush. He is sitting down now, in one of the chairs that surrounds the tiny table, opposite another one for you to sit on. You mumble an apology and make your way to the seat, awkwardly perching yourself on the edge of it.

 “I like your room, Master Kenobi, it’s very… homely.” He smiles at your admission and gestures to your tea before taking a sip of his own.

“Thank you, Y/N. I like to have a place I enjoy spending time, I appreciate it when I return from long missions.” You hum at his response, letting out a pleased noise as you taste the tea he prepared. It is some sort of woodsy concoction, not what you’d usually go for, but it tastes like heaven on your tongue.

“So…” You clear your throat, the anticipation of this impending conversation almost killing you, “You wanted to talk to me, Master?”

“Ah yes, straight to it then?” He looks puzzled at first, as though he is unsure of how to approach the topic, before heaving a resigned sigh and placing his tea back onto the table with nary a drop spilt, “Y/N, you had so much potential. I chose you and Anakin to train under me because I saw something in the both of you. Anakin? He was hot headed, fueled by passion and rage and I thought it a good challenge to help him control it. You, on the other hand? You were quiet, reserved, overwhelmed by your shyness but absolutely simmering with potential. And we unlocked so much of it, did we not? You were excelling, even more so than Anakin. What happened, Y/N? You can’t expect me to believe that my best Padawan forgot everything she’d learnt overnight. No…” He leans forward now, not allowing your wide-eyed gaze to waver from his as he continues with his serious spiel, “You stopped trying, you gave up. I would like to know why, and you’re not leaving my quarters until you tell me. I’ve tried to be gentle with you, kind, but the council are threatening termination of your place in the Jedi temple.”

Silence descends on the tense room as your brain struggles to comprehend everything Obi-Wan just threw your way. Of course you knew the council weren’t happy with you, you’d seen the disapproving gazes from Mace Windu and Ki Adi-Mundi, but you never even considered it had reached the point that they were considering ending your training as a Jedi, and relieving you of your place in the temple.

The only sound that breaks the silence is your breathing getting quicker and quicker, until Obi-Wan realises he needs to try and calm you down. Your anxiety is so strong he feels as though it is hitting him, and he notices the way your eyes begin to well up, and you realise with a start that months and months of pent up emotions are making themselves known right now. Right here, in your Master’s quarters.

 Luckily, General Kenobi is a master at diffusing situations, and is quick to kneel in front of you, taking both of your hands in his and gazing up at you with those kind eyes of his.

“If nothing else, Y/N, a Padawan should be able to trust their Master. Can you trust me? Whatever the problem is, it will not leave this room. I give you my word.”

You know you shouldn’t tell him, for Jedi’s should not love, but you crumble the second his thumb brushes over the skin of your hand. At this moment, you want to be comforted, and not just by anyone, by Obi-Wan specifically.

“I love him, Obi-Wan. I love Anakin so much it hurts, but he doesn’t love me, he loves her.” You sob, tears spilling freely from your eyes as you avert them from his own. When you hesitantly look back towards him, you expect him to look shocked, angry, in disbelief. Rather, he just gives you a sad smile that conveys the fact that your admission was exactly what he had expected you to say to him.

Has Obi-Wan known about your feelings for Anakin this whole time?

        ╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

#obi wan x you #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan x reader #obi wan fluff #obi wan x oc #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x ofc #obi wan kenobi x reader #star wars imagine #obi wan x y/n #obi wan kenobi x y/n

[obaewankenobis]

for forever — obi-wan kenobi

pairing(s)  :  obi-wan kenobi x reader ( mostly focused on obi-wan’s character, not the relationship because i am a hoe for this man )

summary  :  after the fall of the jedi order, you can finally be together. alternatively, obi-wan needs therapy/deserves happiness.

word count  :  2.1k

warning(s)  :  character death, a bit of angst i guess but it’s mostly fluff.

notes   :  roughly edited so i apologize if things don’t make sense, i honestly came up with this on a whim and have No Idea what was going through my head when i wrote this. the povs also switch a lot but enjoy </3.

       The sand bit at his fair skin, the grainy winds of Tatooine ruffled through his auburn locks, peppered with strands of grey, as Obi-Wan Kenobi stood, rigid and grief stricken. Kind wrinkles framed his eyes, eyes weighed down by exhaustion and desolation, the memory of a thousand wars flickering in the brilliant blue reflection. Without speaking, the woman looking at him from afar knew he had suffered a lifetime of hardship and grief, his aching heart not given a moment to mourn the loss of those closest to him. The mahogany cloak billowed around his body, covering the burnt, tattered tan robes he wore, as the wind picked up, signaling there would be little time before the twin suns set and it was much too dangerous to be outside. Snuggled between the lone man’s arms, swathed in soft cream blankets to shelter him from the cruel and unforgiving weather, was a baby. With sea blue eyes and the sparse tufts of pale blonde hair, the newborn was the mirror image of his father — that in itself was bittersweet.

       Fire. That was all Obi-Wan could remember, the smoldering lava confining him and his enemy — once his friend, his brother — inside a tight circle of flashing blue and blazing rage. Now, things were blissfully quiet, as if the universe was trying to give him peace of mind after what it had taken from him. With heavy shoulders and hollow eyes, Obi-Wan was a shell of who he used to be: a great warrior and an excellent negotiator, all gone. His last mission was here, on Tatooine, to deliver the baby to his aunt and uncle: Owen and Beru Lars. Then, he would spend the rest of his years wasting away in a sandy prison, languishing in his defeat.

       “Is it true?” The woman from afar, who had taken to staring at him from a distance, finally approached him, awaiting his answer with bated breath — Beru. Is it true? The words reverberated in his head, as the reality came crashing down upon him. The woman in front of him needed certainty, she needed answers, answers Obi-Wan could not give her.

       “Yes,” came the final reply. Who knew a single word could hold such heavy meaning? Yes. An entire government who’s history spanned hundreds of years prior collapsed within a single day? Yes, that had happened. His religion, who he had devoted his entire life to and poured his soul into, gone? Yes, decimated without a sliver of mercy. The baby’s father, the hero of the galaxy, the crown jewel of the Jedi Order, killed? Yes, murdered in cold blood.

       Beru finally brought her attention to the boy nestled within the robes of the man. “Is he . . . ” She seemed to only speak in half questions, as if finishing the sentence would make it a harsh reality, and leaving the query to hang heavy in the air would somehow leave her life in a fairytale.

       “Yes,” he replied again, nearly choking on his words as the boy let out a tiny coo, as if he sensed they were discussing him.

       “Oh.” There was a pause, a flicker of hesitation, before the woman decided to continue her pattern of half inquiries to form her own story. “May I?” With shaking arms, Beruu reached forward to take the boy from Obi-Wan’s grasp and welcome the baby into her own warm embrace. Part of him didn’t want to let the child go, for once he did he would have no real connection to his past life. Letting go of the boy meant letting go of everything, from his first steps in the Temple, to his meeting with his apprentice on Naboo, to the countless, sleepless nights in a war torn galaxy, it would all be gone. The woman’s tender smile and patient gaze was nearly patronizing, she was trying to sympathize with something she couldn’t possibly understand. No one could. A wave of fury washed over him, trapping him in a cage of his own emotions. Obi-Wan had never felt such an intensity roll over his body, preferring to keep his temperament a tranquil, emotionless pit. But this raw, uncontrollable fury was soon washed out with an even more overpowering bout of sorrow, shaking him with such force it made his knees wobble and threaten to give way. For over thirty years he was taught emotions were the enemy, by being detached and aloof he would survive, and look where that had gotten him.  

      Another soft cry from the baby jerked Obi-Wan back into the present moment, as his tiny arms reached for the woman, drawn to her sunny kindness and comforting aura; he realized a place to call home or a comforting shoulder to cry on was never something he could offer as the baby grew older. The woman made a small clicking sound with her tongue, looking up at Obi-Wan with an expectant gaze, and yet his grip on the baby remained the same. Although his mind seemed desperate to listen to logic, to reason, his body remained motionless, following the dull ache and painful longing in his heart. The battle between his mind and emotions lasted a fraction of a second, and at last, as it had time and time again, his mind won.

       Like he had done all his life, selflessly sacrificing himself for thee good of the galaxy, he let go.

     The woman took the baby in her arms, and began her journey back to her homestead, pausing just slightly to exchange one last parting smile and a word of comfort. “I think someone wants to see you, Master Kenobi.” With that, Beru began walking, a happy baby in her arms, to her husband, just as the sky merged from clear blue to salmon pink and hazy orange, the twin suns beginning to disappear over the horizon rapidly. As the light dimmed and dusk settled in, the man could make out the shadowy figures of Beru and Owen Lars, holding Luke Skywalker in unmoving content.

       Here to see me? Obi-Wan frowned, reflecting on the woman’s words. This was not his home, his very identity was supposed to remain a secret, who could possibly want to see him? Unless . . .

       No, that was impossible. He had mourned your death just as he had mourned every other Jedi’s death the moment their own clones turned against them, and he would not allow even a tiny sliver of hope to crawl its way back into his heart. Because in the end, he could only cling to the belief that things would get better, and false hope in such a desperate time would be his undoing.

—

       You wondered how long you could stand in the shadows before he noticed you, standing awkwardly by his dewback as he delivered Padmé and Anakin's son to his new family. Like Obi-Wan, you had suffered the loss of everything and everyone you knew, your entire life destroyed in the span of a second, and all you could do was stand there, watching everything burn. The Jedi robes you once wore with pride, robes that were once a symbol of humility and hope across the galaxy, now put a priceless bounty on the head of anyone who wore them.

       “Obi-Wan?” The name was dry in your throat, mouth parched and lips cracked due to the harsh Tatooine heat.

       Though he was always subtle, you could see his entire demeanor change, the way his shoulders became straighter, the way his hands, once balled up into fists of worry, were now relaxed and laying loosely at his side. In a moment, he had turned around and closed the distance between the two of you, caramel boots growing dull and scuffed as he stepped through the unforgiving desert surface beneath him. “You’re alive,” his voice came out in a hushed, cautious tone, disbelief still tainting the edges. “I thought — Yoda and I — the only ones left — ” his words grew more jumbled with each passing phrase that left his lips.

       “But I’m here. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” you cut him off, the calm gentleness of your tone making him stop in his tracks. Slowly, each movement pained and deliberate, you stepped closer, inching your way forward until he was right in front of you. Neither of you could look away; with the Jedi Order dead, there was no reason to hide in secrecy now.

—

       To realize he was not alone was comforting, but to know it was you he could seek company in was freeing. In that moment, with the distance so close between your bodies, Obi-Wan dared not breathe, his eyes fluttering shut as he let out the smallest of breaths — this was all he had ever wanted, and still, despite everything, it was something he believed he could never have.

       He wouldn’t allow himself to believe it. Not after he spent all those years repressing the desire that burned so deeply within him it began to rot within his heart, trapped with no release in sight. At one point, he had every reason to deny the yearning stirring within him, but now? Now there was no war, no Council, no code, no nothing to stop himself from unleashing decades of pent up turmoil within him.

       And stars, it was suffocating.

       He couldn’t do this.

       “You know you don’t have to push me away any more.” A suggestion more than a factual statement; voice thick and barely audible.

       Was this a dream, a fantasy meant to be chased after in his sleep? Or some sick, twisted premonition the Force was trying to convey to him? So many nights he had spent languishing in his loneliness, dazed in a delusion that remained but a figment of his imagination.

       “I know.”

       “What?”

       “The Jedi are no more. We . . . We don’t have to pretend we don’t have  — ” The words were bittersweet on his tongue; even with no one there to watch and scold him, he could not betray his way of life so easily. That everyone I have ever loved, I have watched die in my arms? And throughout all of that, I have never been tempted by the dark side, but if I lost you, I would be afraid of my own morality? Those were not easy thoughts to formulate into a coherent sentence — there were no words Obi-Wan could say that would even begin to describe how he felt.

       Instead, in a tender gesture of vulnerability, he reached out through the Force, and all at once it came crashing down on him.

       This feeling . . . it was all consuming, and he was drowning, struggling to keep his head above water and not surrender to its frosty depths. He was submerged in an endless stretch of icy ocean water so frigid and numbing, that he felt nothing and everything all at once. It was terrifying to think — and let you know — you held so much power over him, but in the same instance, he felt at peace, like a weight he had dragged around for decades was finally lifted off his shoulders. I love you, rang as bright as the city lights on Coruscant and as clear as a Nabooian waterfall. I love you.

       “I love you, too.” He heard your voice in a soft whisper, swelled up with emotion as you took in everything. Chills erupted down his spine; he couldn't quite tell if it was from the inky blanket being tugged across the sky as dusk descended into nightfall, or if it was the four word phrase that left your lips.

—

       “I cannot live without you,” Obi-Wan let out a shaky exhale, breath fanning across your face just slightly, your foreheads making contact in the lightest movements. You felt dizzy, in a dreamlike trance, for you had never been this close to him. You could see every horror he had survived in his glassy blue eyes, notice every perfect imperfection that blemished his skin and made him all the more real. In a moment, his face had become blurred as he closed the distance and finally, finally, his lips were on yours, and you connected in a long awaited, eternally sought after kiss. You could feel his hands, calloused but gentle, cupping your face, as your own fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, the kiss grew more fervent and needy, every rule you had ever lived by crumbling as you melted deeper into his touch.

       After a long moment, you broke away, breathless, your face still tantalizingly close to his.

       “I will never leave you, Obi-Wan,” your lips parted in a determined vow, a promise you would keep to your dying breath. The Jedi were dead, and yet you never felt more alive.

#obi-wan x reader #obi wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi #star wars #angst #probably should edit this #obi-wan needs a hug #and some therapy too #post order 66 #revenge of the sith #prequel trilogy #star wars prequels #one shot

[themusicplayedherlife]

To Love is the Greatest Gift

1. The Return

pairing: obi wan kenobi x f!reader (past!din djarn x f!reader) characters: f!reader, anakin amidala-skywalker, padmé amidala-skywalker, mentiones of din djarin, obi wan kenobi, others word count: 2.6k+ warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of rent: the musical (death, second chances) uh... I think that’s it? summary: au!it’s never been the right timing for you and obi wan kenobi; maybe this time will be different. a/n: i started working on this story so long ago it’s ridiculous, but I suddenly had a surge of motivation to continue this story after some tragic family news. this was also very much inspired by @martlands and their amazing obi wan stories, made me want to write my own and here it is

all || next

“You broke up?”

One would think that the immediate reaction to someone asking if you broke up with your significant other would be to cry or begin to ask them what could have possibly gone wrong. But that’s not the reaction you give. 

The reaction you give is just a shrug and a strong pop, as you spoon more gelato onto the little spoon his twins love collecting. “Yep.”

“After only three weeks of dating?” Anakin doesn’t know why he’s surprised, but he is. This is probably the shortest living relationship you’ve ever had. “Why?”

“Why not?” you answer easily, nonchalantly and you know it frustrates him. “It wasn’t working out, so we decided to call it quits.”

Not even a month ago, you had been genuinely excited about finally getting out there and meeting someone new, and even more excited when you were telling him all about this person you met while out with some old friends. You had said, word for word, “he might be the perfect contender!”

Where did all that excitement go?

You sigh, finally looking up at him and away from your white chocolate gelato that's just to die for. “Ani, it’s fine. It just didn’t work out. It happens.”

He grimaces. “What happened between you and Din—“

You bristle at the mention of your ex, narrowing your eyes and his widen in defense. You know what Anakin and Padmé think of him and it’s not entirely pleasant (particularly from Anakin’s part). It’s completely unfair. Din is lovely, sure a little socially awkward, but lovely nonetheless. “Has nothing to do with why Gar and I ended things.”

“But—“

“Nothing,” you reiterate with a bit more force and he sighs, lifting his hands in defeat while holding his own cup of gelato.

“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry.” And then, like a light switching, he turns playful. “Was it his name that turned you off—Gar?”

You resist the urge to groan and roll your eyes. “Oh maker, you are annoying!”

You huff as you make the trek back to the trolley that’ll take you both up to the observatory. The rest of your conversation is forgotten as he navigates it towards continuing to tease you and the latest exhibit you had helped set up.

The Coruscant Observatory is one of the most popular attractions in the city aside from the Exotic Animal Sanctuary (where most zoologist work to help rehabilitate wild animals before reintroducing them back into the wild, only housing the ones that have been assessed to not be able to function in the wild on their own—which are unfortunately many).

Your place of work is known for its large, ground telescope; its monthly constellation exhibits; the multiple planetarium theater rooms that house lectures, activities, star projections, etc.; and its Astronomer Q&A program where visitors can ask astronomers questions and even get a tour of the space station.

However, most of your days are spent in your office, planning for the next exhibit or actually executing them with your team; meanwhile, Anakin spends them in tech, sometimes maintaining the telescope, other times helping with IT issues, but mostly making sure the theater rooms worked perfectly for their 4D immersion.

(You like to joke that out of the two of you, he has it easiest; sometimes he’ll run by your office to get to another part of the building while you’re doing something and you’ll yell out, “slacker” and he’ll respond with, “you just work too much”.)

“Are Padmé and the twins stopping by today?”

“Not today, maybe tomorrow,” he says as you both step out of the trolley along with a few tourists. “I think today they decided to stay for some school thing.”

“Shouldn’t you know what that school thing is?” you chide him out of jest.

He scowls, there’s hardly any heat in it and it makes you grin. “It’s a music performance that the CN Theater is putting on.”

“Ah, and we all know how much musicals bores you.”

“I just don’t understand them,” he murmurs defensively as you climb the few steps leading to the entrance. The two of you smiling and greeting Rex at his security post and bypassing the ticket gate with your IDs.

“You mean you don’t have any taste,” you tease.

“It’s weird! I mean, most of them are all about tragedies and betrayals. What happened to the good ol’ romance and happy endings?”

“Not all of them are tragedies, Casanova.”

The main rotunda lobby is full of people milling about, looking at maps or the foucault pendulum in the middle of the room. Low chatter fills the room, shoes clicking and clacking against the marble flooring.

“Name one.”

Spotting the trash can and recycle bin, Anakin holds his hand out for your disposable cup and spoon and throws them away in their proper bin.

“Rent.” There are probably better examples, but you had been listening to the original cast album the night before and have all the songs still stuck in your head.

“Don’t two characters die?”

“Angel and Mimi.” You nod. “But Mimi is brought back to life by Angel, and is given a second chance at life.”

“She may have been brought back to life, but that doesn’t take away from the fact she died.”

“I’m not arguing with you on that, I’m just saying the ending was hopeful—not necessarily a happy ending, but it left you thinking—maybe things can get better.”

“And that’s not what I’m looking for. I’m looking for—“

“What you and Padmé have?” you ask him as you both reach the door of your office.

He pauses, mouth opening and closing before finally rubbing the back of his head sheepishly and saying, “Yeah.”

You smile, genuine and happy for your childhood friend. Who would’ve thought that years ago when you introduced them, they’d be here years later—married and with twins. You and Anakin sure as hell didn’t. For most of your childhood, you both believed you’d live out your life on Tatooine, hang with the same friends you’ve known since your pre-kinder days and eventually get married to each other—much to the dismay of your parents—because of benefits or whatever, until your parents decided they wanted to send you off to a private school in one of the major cities, derailing your and Anakin’s plan (for the better, if you’re being honest).

“You’re still coming over for dinner, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer, unlocking your office door with your key. “I have a meeting that might go over the expected time, but I should be able to make it on time.”

“Just let us know,” he says, rapping his knuckles against the door frame. “But you better be there! We have some planning to do!”

You roll your eyes and wave him away, promising he and his family will definitely see you at five. With a hearty chuckle he salutes you and leaves the door slightly ajar, just like you usually do. It’s your “you can come in to ask me questions, but knock first, please” visual telling.

With a soft exhale, you drop yourself into your creaking office chair, eyes landing on the first picture on your right—a younger you, only 18, fresh out of your uniform smiling wildly with a large bouquet of flowers that you can still distinctly remember the smell of.

“I am in love!” Padmé exclaimed, squealing in absolute delight at the flowers put in your hand.

Blue eyes crinkled with amusement, staring down at you. “Are you?” His voice was low, teasing and almost smug. He had obviously heard the gasp that escaped your lips when he presented you the colorful bouquet created with your favorite flowers that his father grew in their little garden.

“Irrevocably,” you answered, not able to hide your smile as you gently held it against your chest and smiled up at him. “They’re beautiful, Obi. Thank you.”

Obi Wan’s arm is wrapped around your shoulder, caught in the action of a booming laughter. He was always laughing in pictures. There isn’t a single picture you have of him that he isn't smiling.

Your finger gently trails over his smiling face. Maker, you miss him.

Is he still traveling? Or has he finally settled down again? Will he show up and spring some unexpected news on you again? Stars, you hope not. Shit didn’t go as planned last time and it probably wouldn’t again.

Your hand falls limply and you swivel in your seat, looking out the large glass window overlooking the majority of the city and sigh softly—an exhale of wary hope and sadness.

A bird soars by your window, it’s wings flapping effortlessly, diving before flying higher and away.

He’s not coming back. You know this. Coruscant just isn’t the same anymore. Not when he feels this city has taken everything from him.

One more year visiting Gui Gon without him.

The meeting runs longer than it usually would, just like you had expected. Checking the time, you let out a curse and quickly throw your belongings into your car.

Without wasting time, as soon as you switch on your engine, you place your phone on the dock and say, “Hey C-3PO, call Padmé.”

“Calling Padmé,” your phone’s AI answers through the speakers of your car.

“Are you outside?” Is how she greets you. There are loud noises in the background, children squabbling about something or another, and Anakin’s weary voice trying to rally them. 

You snort, pulling out of the undergroundparking lot. “Not yet, barely got out of my meeting and am on my way.”

“Please hurry, the twins really want to see you and are dying from hunger,” she says, amusement in her voice and not at all trying to hurry you. “They might start eating Anakin soon.”

“Hey, don’t bite that!” He yells from a distance.

“Hurry, please!” you hear over the phone—Luke. “I miss you,” he says, closer now. Which you immediately reply saying you miss him too, almost cutting off the next voice.

“And I’m hungry!” Leia’s voice follows his, practically yelling into the phone.

You laugh fondly, just imagining the childish glee on their faces at your scandalized gasps and your exaggerated “me too” answers.

“Leia, no yelling,” Padmé scolds her, gentle and kind. “Softer, please.”

“Sorry,” she says. “I’m hungry,” she repeats, softer, almost a whisper.

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be there,” you promise. “If not, you have my permission to start eating your dad.”

Leia and Luke break into a fit of laughter, yelling something away from the phone to Anakin, who once again lets out a loud, “Hey!”

Padmé chuckles, moving away from the voices of the children tackling their father and their play fighting. “Take your time, we’re not in any hurry to start eating. The kids had a hearty lunch and a snack after school.”

“What about you and Anakin?”

“We’re fine, don’t worry. Just get here safely and we’ll see you soon.”

You end the call with one last reassurance from her and let out a loud sigh when your car comes to a stop behind a long line of glaring red lights—traffic. You hate traffic.

You might be surrounded by blinding lights and different models of vehicles, but it leaves you alone with your thoughts, the low hum of your engine and music from your stereo drowned out by the chattering in your head. 

It’s never just one thing that you think about. It can go from one thing to another, to all of them trying to climb over eachother and be the most present: your friends; your family; the dog next door; Din and Baby; cinnamon apple cookies; the beach house in Naboo; sneaking out of the prep dormitories at 2am with Padmé keeping an eye out and Obi Wan holding his arms out for you; rose gardens and peach tea; freckles on blushing skin; drunken singing in a small living room; 21st birthdays crying in a bathroom stall; that stupid movie quote about choosing life; death; but sometimes (most occurring) it’s Obi Wan that weaves into every thought.

He’s a constant plague in your mind, has been since the first time he left Coruscant in search of himself. 

Sometimes they’re pleasant thoughts, memories kept in a nostalgic trunk that you occasionally like to sift through. Other times, they’re not so pleasant; those are the ones you constantly struggle with, try to push into the recesses of your mind and keep them under lock and key. But for some stupid, strange reason, your mind only ever remembers the bad, even when there are better things to dwell on.

“I just—I just don’t understand why you have to leave—Obi. Obi!” you practically yelled, watching him move around his room, grabbing and throwing things he pulled out into his duffel bag. “Listen to me!” 

He didn’t stop, not until you reached for his duffel bag and plucked it out from his hands. He stared at you, his duffel bag carelessly thrown to the floor with his clothes spilling out. 

Your breathing was labored, a sick feeling swimming in your stomach, words stuck in your throat now that he wasn’t hiding his beautiful blue eyes from you—his devastatingly heartbroken eyes. “I have to,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “I need to leave. This house—this city, it's suffocating me. I can’t—I can’t stay here anymore.”

“Obi… Obi, please.” You can’t leave me. You can’t! Please! Please, Obi.

“I need to do this for me, darling. I’m sorry.”

You should’ve fought harder that night, should’ve convinced him to stay, but instead you helped him pack again with tears obstructing your view and sobs escaping your lips. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have lost him.

No, your breath stutters as you lean back into your car seat, there was nothing you could’ve done. Either times. He had made up his mind long before that night.

A car honks their horn to your left and you jump, eyes focusing once more on the red lights of the car in front of you. You wipe at your face harshly and straighten your spine. 

That was years ago, little one. Shake it off. 

Sighing softly, you look up at the street name and make a turn onto the Skywalker residence street, your shoulders relaxing when their two story home comes into view.  

Shake it off.

Parking isn't easy to find in their neighborhood, not when it’s so close to the observatory and some of the most visited parks in the area, but you manage to find one just two cars away from their house. 

Gathering your things, you lock the door behind you and quickly make your way down the sidewalk, phone in your hand and typing out a message that you’re here.

It’s while you’re hitting send that you don’t notice the body in front of you, staring up at the house with an almost wary expression on his face, or how his eyes widen when they see you. It’s not until you collide into his body, soft with a fleece cardigan, that you notice him. Embarrassment begins to boil in your blood as you quickly apologize to him, berating yourself for not being more aware of your surroundings.

“Kriff, I’m so sorry—“ you start, but the apology catches in your throat when you look up.

“Hello, there.” Blue eyes, so soft and kind, like the ones you once used to dream of stare back at you—so unlike the pair of eyes you saw years ago. “It’s been a long time, darling.”

You can’t shake him off.

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#obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi wan kenobi imagine #reader insert #ben kenobi #star wars imagine #au #f!reader