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captain039 · 2 years

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PART 4 Tastes like heaven

Werewolf!alpha!Obi wan x omega!human!reader x alpha/omega!vampire!Anakin

Obikin

Warnings: vampire things, ABO, werewolf things, light gore, possessiveness, sexual, smut, threesome, poly couple, mentions of needles, oral f receiving, hand jobs, filth, utter filth

Last part <-

You sensed Obi-Wan gone, you saw Anakin on the couch, head leaned back, eyes closed. You watched him, hand fisted against your towel, he was beautiful, sharp jaw and strong features, he held himself high and his hair was always soft. You sighed softly sitting on your bed, you glanced down your body knowing the rolls and over fleshy parts you had. Often you were mistaken for a slave girl, or someone to keep around and not a Jedi due to your looks, you weren’t ‘strong’ looking.

“What’s wrong?” You jumped when you heard Anakin’s voice, now standing by your door.

“Nothing” you said standing up and rummaging through your clothes. Your knees were shaking, your stomach cramping. One release always led to wanting more. You stuttered on words looking Anakin who tilted his head and smirked. You felt your cheeks go hot and huffed awkwardly holding your clothes and towel, heading to the fresher.

“What’s the point if they’re going to be taken off again?” Anakin called halting your movements at the sliding door.

“Coverage! For now!” You grumbled trying to open your fresher door. Anakin chuckled behind you and you turned seeing his hand held up, forcing the door to stay shut.

“Anakin!” You huffed as he stalked closer. You leant against the cool door his eyes ablaze with lust and? You couldn’t read his emotions well. He loomed over you, making you feel small in the corner.

“I wanna get dressed” you mumbled and he cooed gently pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Give me a kiss first” he grinned and you flushed huffing at him.

“Come on” he dragged out making you glare and quickly pressing your lips to his. He laughed wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you deeply. You moaned softly as your body pressed against his easily, like it molded to his.

“You’re beautiful” he whispered, eyes warm as you stared at him.

“I heard your thoughts, though you weren’t really quiet with them” he grinned.

“Strong features?” He teased and you groaned hiding your face in his chest as he laughed.

“Precious omega” he nuzzled into your neck, holding you close. You basked know the warmth he gave off and sighed, wiggling your arms free to wrap around his neck. He lifted you easily making you yelp and grip onto him as he sat at the edge of your bed, you in his lap.

“Ani” you mumbled as he kissed you deeply again.

Obi-Wan stood in the middle of the council room, all the councils eyes narrowed.

“Has commander Y/n improved?” Master Windu asked.

“I’m unsure, I’d say not yet, it’s only been a couple of days” Obi-Wan spoke. Lying was hard especially to the council but he could t risk the secret being found out.

Suddenly a wave of pleasure ran through his body from you and Anakin making him tense and stare at one spot while the council spoke. Couldn’t wait for him to come back.

“Master Kenobi this is troublesome” Master Plo Koon said.

“I’m aware however there is nothing the healers or my Padawan can do, she must simply wait it out” Obi-Wan wanted to raise his voice fight for his omega. She couldn’t help it, whatever those rogues did at the pit was unknown to him and his padawans. Despite Anakin being a knight now, he still called him his Padawan.

“She is better in rest, let her come out when she is ready” Master Luminara said smiling gently at Master Kenobi.

“Thank you” he bowed his head briefly looking to master Yoda who had his brow furrowed.

“Young skywalker, have not seen him we haven’t” Master Yoda said and Obi-Wan tensed slightly.

“I’m unsure Master Yoda, I’m afraid he tells me nothing anymore” Obi-Wan brushed it off with light humour but Master Windus face only went sterner.

“Rest she must, much to do, there still is” Master Yoda nodded his head and Obi-Wan bowed before leaving.

The feeling coursing through his body was intense, his legs carrying him quickly to his omegas room.

You whined gently against Anakin’s cheek as he gently thrusted two fingers in and out of your entrance. He was panting, praises slipping from his mouth as he moved. Your hips were not under your control, they moved on their own, rocking against his hand before you heard your door open. You froze a bit, but Anakin kept going.

“Alpha has joined us” he muttered kissing you feverishly making you whine.

“Couldn’t wait for me” Your master said and you whined again pulling apart from Anakin’s lips. Obi-Wan simply smirked as you reached out to him. He willingly came pressing his lips to yours, hand on your hip, his other in Anakin’s side.

“Needy thing” Obi-Wan muttered against your lips and you just sighed slumping your head against Anakin’s shoulders as he moved slowly. You glared at his clothes and moved your hands to the hem of his shirt and scrunched it up. Anakin chuckled by you making you glare at him as he pulled his fingers from you making you shudder a moan. You tugged his shirt off, finally able to have skin on skin contact, you sighed pressing your mouth to his neck, hands grabbing his waist band.

“Clothes” you grumbled but he just chuckled. You looked to Obi-Wan desperately and he just smirked making you huff again. You stood from his lap, his hands resting behind him so he could lean back.

“This isn’t fair” you said. Obi-Wan let out a hearty chuckle and you shot him a look.

“Ok, ok” the alpha gave in going over to Anakin and removing his pants. Anakin was smirking the whole time and you shuddered slightly seeing the bulge evident.

“Better princess?” Anakin said head tilted and you flushed looking at the ground and nodded.

“No, no you wanted him like this” Obi-Wan stood behind you forcing your chin up with his fingers.

“Look” his words echoed in your head, his breath fanning your ear. Anakin sat, hands back, legs spread slightly, defined muscles and some scars from battles. Your masters hands drifted down your stomach to you with you. Your body shuddered and you struggled keeping upright again.

“Lie down” he instructed and you did as he said crawling on the bed last Anakin. You laid down trembling as Obi-Wan began to undo his tunic layers. He stripped down, bare golden chest, scars and moles on his body, but his body hair was neat just like his face. You gulped slightly as he began to strip off his boots and trousers before he too stood confined by one article of clothing. You could see his cock waiting, straining against the fabric. You sat up crawling to the edge of the bed on your knees before sitting up in them. Obi-Wan moved forward cupping your chin before kissing you. You rested your hands on his chest, you let them explore though, going over some scars and the through the hair before going lower past his navel. Your hands were shaky and you pulled back to give a questioning look.

“Can-can I touch? I’ve never-“ you stumbled over words but he smile hand covering yours and slipping it past his waist band. He helped you wrap your hands around his cock making him groan softly, eyes slipping shut. He guided you, helping you take him out and gently move your hand up and down. You watched his face suddenly mesmerised by the way his face contorted in pleasure.

“Wet your hand” Anakin muttered taking your hand and spitting on it. The action would’ve made you ick in any other situation but in this one it didn’t, his tongue ran over your palm and fingers before nodding to go again. Obi-Wan hand one hand on Anakin’s face gently stroking his cheek the other gripping your hip as you moved your hand on your own. You sped up, moved your thumb over his tip gathering the pre come that was oozing out. The alpha before you trembled and groaned softly, mouthing around your neck, teeth scraping when you tightened your hold slightly and gently. You moved faster and his stomach tightened, whole body tensing along with it making you quicken.

“Stop omega” Obi-Wan gritted out and you panicked hands stilling. You thought you did something wrong as he lifted his head.

“I’m sorry-“ you stuttered and he shook his head kissing you deeply.

“I don’t want to come yet” he whispered and you flushed furiously but nodded.

“Lie down again for me” he whispered and you nodded again complying. Anakin laid with you arm going under your head, lips pressing to yours as Obi-Wan kicked off his boxers and crawled on your bed. He gently open your legs making you pull away from Anakin’s kiss. Obi-Wan kissed your thighs, gently scooping them in his arms, one going over his shoulder. He looked to you, a question echoing in your mind and you nodded answering back. He smiled, ducking his head and swiping his tongue over your heat. Anakin stole your moan with his lips, his free hand exploring your body, his hands came to your breasts, pulling back from the kiss as he began to play with one. The mixture between him and your master was overwhelming, your hips held down by Obi-Wans grip, Anakin’s hand teasing and pinching your nipple, his lips on your neck, body tensing. You cried when you came, back arching the best it could under your masters hold. You had trouble keeping still and whined softly.

“Good girl” Anakin praised gently pressing kisses to your face.

“Good girl” he repeated as Obi-Wan lifted his head, his beard having a sheen on it. He wiped his mouth on the back of your hands, gently massaging your thighs while you came down.

“Can you handle more? Or do you want to stop?” Obi-Wan asked. You didn’t answer for a minute, only nodding, trying to catch your breath.

“Take a minute” he whispered and you sighed. You still trembled as you breathing evened out somewhat and your heart slowed. Obi-Wan peppered kisses up your body before lying by your side. You held his hand over your stomach nuzzling into Anakin a little more.

“Rest” Anakin whispered and you worried for them.

“We’ll be alright little one” Obi-Wan assured softly pressing his lips to your temple.

“Just get some sleep, we all need it” he said a light joke lacing his words making you smile.

Next part ->

#Starwars #Obikin #x reader #aob #obi wan x reader #Anakin x reader #werewolf obi wan #vampire Anakin

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agirlunderarock · 1 year

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Remedy

Summary: Obi-Wan is having a rough night after returning from Kadavo.

Pairing: Obi-Wan X OC

Warnings: references to canon typical violence

Read on Ao3

A/N: so this was a very short fic inspired by artwork by @sunflowersinheaven So I am so sorry my dude if you saw me popping up repeatedly in your notes over this post. I was trying to keep from losing it in my likes 😅 Thank you for sharing your art on tumblr! But anyways I hope anyone reading this enjoys

Obi-Wan stared up into the ceiling of his recovery room in the med bay. Soft light from the hallway kept the room just bright enough to see clear across the room to the door of the refresher and the mirror sink in the corner. The soft beeps of monitors in the other rooms was steady though not as reassuring as he had thought they would be. He tried to close his eyes again but almost instantly opened them again.

The jedi thought he would have felt relieved. He had every reason to be happy. He was alive. Anakin, Ahsoka and Rex survived Zygrryian prison camp with him. Yet the thought of the mission made his chest tighten with uncertainty. The Torgruta villagers were safe. They had managed to rescue hundreds of lives, and just as many were still recovering in this med wing. Master Plo and his men had arrived just in time.

They had done well, all of them, and yet Obi-Wan could still hear the cries of pain piercing his ears. Each beep of the monitor echoed the crack of the whip. Every time he closed his eyes he found himself back in the cot of the prison camp, every attempt to help someone or even stay in compliance resulted in the abuse of another person. Evey choice he made lead others to torture or death. Everyone had done their part, except him. The mission might have even stayed on track if he hadn't been captured-

Obi-Wan sat up with a heavy sigh, the thin blanket sliding down his bare torso, exposing him to the crisp air of the med hall. He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to will away nightmares and memories. Despite the bacta patches, and even a good soak in the bacta tank, the Jedi’s back still stung and ached with each movement. He needed rest. He knew that, but still he couldn’t stay in bed, not when his mind was racing and tormenting him with all the ways he failed the Torgruta people.

He slowly raked his fingers through his hair. Dwelling on what he felt he could have done better wouldn’t make things better. Another deep breath, and he pushed himself out of bed and over to the sink. With every movement he could still catch whiffs of bacta coming off his skin. He had showered before attempting to sleep, but he was running out of ideas to try to get his body to relax.

He had tried meditating already, intrusive thoughts made it nearly impossible to focus. Even when he tried to recite the Code to himself, Obi-Wan could feel his resolve crumbling under the contradiction between what he believed the jedi should be and what they were constantly being asked to do in this war. The comfort he usually found in the meditation was lost to him now, as he was assaulted by more and more intrusive memories from Kadavo. He considered briefly just physically stepping through his saber forms, but the room was so small, and he loathed the thought of anyone seeing him in the hallway at this hour.

Obi-Wan found himself gripping the edges of the sink in front of him. His back still ached and perhaps it would continue to for as long as the war went on, possibly even well after. He watched as his knuckles turned white in the dim light. He couldn’t bring himself to look in the mirror. He knew what he would find. Dark circles under his wary eyes, Sas had said his face looked more shallow, sharper and pale when they got back. He didn’t need to see the physical marks on his body, he saw the signs in the people he was supposed to rescue, the people he failed.

“Obi-Wan?” woman’s voice hesitantly called from the doorway.

The jedi didn’t have to look up to know it was Sas. He’d know her voice anywhere, always pulling him from the depths of his darkest thoughts. Almost instantly he loosened his grip on the sink. She didn’t need to see him like this.

“Can’t sleep either?” she asked, still lingering in the doorway.

For a brief moment Obi-Wan thought he had felt some kind of burst in the force when she spoke his name. Anticipation? Maybe. No excitement. However, the moment he looked over to her, that burst melted into something warmer from her; concern. He could see it knit between her brows and in the way she stood half way in the room and in the hall.

“Sleep rarely comes easy to you after a mission,” Obi-Wan answered though he knew she hadn’t gone with them. She was still nursing injuries from Umbara, and some recent ones from a rogue combat trainer. Even with the bacta he and the others would be recovering from their wounds for quite some time. He still needed to check in with Anakin. He couldn’t begin to imagine how he must be feeling.

“Even when I’m not on the mission, apparently,” she replied, a small rueful smile on her face. “Thought they would have stopped being about Umbara by now, or at least that I wouldn’t have one this time since I didn’t go with you.”

Obi-Wan gave a small nod.”I had hoped that your absence would mean that you were taking care of yourself and recovering well. Maybe next time you should come, if only so theres a whole team to keep an eye on you,” he teased quietly.

Though seeing and hearing her voice did offer the Jedi some reprieve from the barrage of intrusive thoughts, even he could hear the forced lightness in his voice. He did his best to offer her a smile, but his lips felt tight and stiff. He turned the faucet on and let the cool water run over his hands before leaning down and splashing some on his face. He just needed to wash away the memories for the time being, until he knew how to confront them. Maker knows this wasn’t the only mission that would be haunting him.

Obi-Wan took a breath and reminded himself he had every reason to feel relieved, even happy to be back. He reminded himself that a rescue mission of the size they completed had never been attempted, much less succeeded. He reminded himself that he, and the rest of the team had come back in one piece, that they were alive. He reminded himself that he just found out the woman he loved also harbored those feelings for him, that he finally told her how important she was to his life.

He supposed that was why she was really at his door. She couldn’t sleep for very different reasons. Reasons she had chosen to dismiss the moment she saw the state he was in. He took a deep breath-

“Obi-Wan,” her voice pulled him back up to the surface. He hadn’t realized he was frozen over the sink again.

"I'm sorry, my dear, please come in," he said, reaching for a hanging towel and drying off his face.

“You don’t need to apologize, Pretty Boy,” her voice already softer and nearer by the time he put the towel down. “I just didn’t want to intrude, if you need time alone-”

“No, no, I’m glad you came, Sas.” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he wanted to say it now, since they had only just expressed their feelings to one another a few hours ago, but her presence brought him a sense of calm. He didn’t want to be alone, but he felt that he couldn’t ask her to stay, especially when he guessed she had been hoping to find him in a completely different mood. Still, the small smile that curved across her lips had him wishing that he could be that person for her. That he could ask her to stay the night with him. That she hadn’t come in to find him trapped in the memories of the prison.

Despite her smile, he could see several thoughts rolling through her mind at once, and for the briefest moment her warm brown eyes refused to meet his own. He couldn’t say for sure what she was thinking, only that she was doing her best to not let it show on her face. Part of him wished she wouldn’t try to hide from him, that she would just show him what she was thinking and feeling so that he could try to help her. Maybe then he could do one thing right.

“Can I stay with you for a while?” She asked. “I know its just a nightmare, but I don’t really want to be alone.”

“Of course, Sas.” He put a hand on her shoulder about to lean down to place a kiss on her head. He knew she still wasn’t really talking about a nightmare, but he was more than happy to have her stay with him through the night. Even if he couldn’t sleep, maybe her talking would help him relax, just like when they first arrived.

“Can I hold you?” She asked, looking up at him suddenly. “It’s just-”

“You don’t need to explain,” He said, pulling her against his bare chest. For a moment he felt her hesitate to put her hands against his bare back, but the moment she did, Obi-Wan felt her warmth seep into him. “I’ve got you,” he whispered against the top of her head, his breath ruffling her dark hair. With each breath he could catch small whiffs of her shampoo, something sweet and clean. He wanted to let her wash over his senses, as he held her close to himself.

“Why don’t we lay down? You must be exhausted.” she suggested. Instead of pulling away from though, he felt one arm slowly rub up and down his back, while her other gently cradled the back of his head. “I can’t imagine what you and the others have been through, when the last time you really got to sleep was.”

At that moment, Obi-Wan understood what she was doing. While Sas might have originally come looking for him for much more intimate reasons, her asking to hold him had nothing to do with her own needs in that moment. Even though he was the one saying that he had her, Sas truly was the one holding him. Her warm hand grazing over his back, not shying away from the ridges made by fresh scars. The other hand rubbed firm circles less into his upper shoulders, before slowly moving up his neck, fingers gently scratching his head. He hadn’t realized how much she really held him. until he felt his body sink more into her with each pass of her hand up and down his back. He closed his eyes and let out a long slow breath.

“Come on let's go to the bed,” Sas urged in a gentle whisper, her breath ghosting over his neck as he touched his forehead to her shoulder. He shook his head a little. He wasn’t going to be able to sleep. Still he closed his eyes and held onto her tighter as he heard her sigh. “Obi-Wan… Even if you don’t sleep, you need to rest. Please…..Pretty Boy as much as I love holding you, I don’t think my back is strong enough to support both of us right now.”

“You should go back to your room,” he answered, voice muffled by her hair. “I don’t want to keep you up with my troubles. You need your rest too. There is no point in both of us to be so tired.” Even as Obi-Wan said this though, he couldn’t fully bring himself to let go of her. His mind grew quieter the moment she walked in the room. He wanted to focus on her, let her warmth wash over him and lull him into sleep and chase away the memories of the hell he and the other escaped. However, deep down he knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t rely on her for such things, and he shouldn’t be so emotionally invested in her this way.

“Obi-Wan,” Sas answered, her voice quiet but stern, “I’ve been in this med bay for the last few weeks. I’ve had plenty of rest. I didn’t go on the mission, I’ll be fine. The only thing I want is for you to be okay. I want to be here with you. You don’t have to tell me what happened there, and its okay if it's heavy-” She pulled away slowly and held his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing gently over his cheeks.. “But you don’t have to do it alone. Not tonight.”

Obi-Wan let out a breath. The weight in his shoulder’s didn’t feel any lighter, and truthfully he knew it wouldn’t, even if he told Sas right then and there everything that troubled him. He silently turned his head and kissed the palms of both her hands. Maybe it was selfish to let her lead him back to the cot, but what else was there to do? He could shut her out, push her away, send her away and then what? Sit there and let his thoughts torment him more? Maybe that was what he deserved for the mistakes he made on Kadavo, but it wasn’t what he wanted. The only thing he wanted to do as he laid down next to Sas was to hold her and try to focus on letting go of those mistakes.

Once again, Obi-Wan was made aware of who was really holding who, as Sas guided his head to rest on her upper chest, her fingertips gently scratching his scalp. Though it had only been a few hours since they had chosen to be open about their feelings for one another, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but feel comfortable in her arms. It wasn’t just that her heart beat drowned out the intrusive thoughts or that each breath she breathed ruffled his hair and ghosted over his forehead. Being with her felt natural, easier than breathing and just as comforting as letting himself sink into the force during meditation. A familiar and welcoming warmth settled over his clouded thoughts as he closed his eyes and held her to his chest. He sank into her, letting her overcome his senses as he felt her lips press to his hairline.

“I love you,” she reminded him softly, her other hand rubbing up his arm and shoulder.

A small shiver ran through the jedi master. He never let himself indulge in the thought that he could let someone like Sas love him, nor that he would so openly return those affections, yet he nuzzled his face against her emerald skin and pressed his lips over the spot he heard her heart rapidly pounded away. In that brief moment he told himself that he didn’t care if they were discovered. She was the remedy he needed, even if his concerns weren’t resolved, she believed he could find away and would be with him every step of the way.

Tonight that was all he needed.

“Goodnight, Pretty Boy,” said with a sleepy sigh.

“Goodnight, my hero,” he answered, letting her presence lull him into much needed peaceful rest.

#star wars #star wars fanfic #obi wan kenobi #obi-wan fanfic #Obi-Wan Kenobi #obi wan x oc

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bylightofdawn · 1 year

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WIP Sunday

So this Jaster and Myles scene has officially exploded into its own chapter at this rate. Apparently, Myles has a lot to say/think about the idea of adoption. It actually got angsty there for a bit and I'm STILL not done with it.

I feel like maybe I'm posting too much sometimes but I apparently don't understand the assignment when it comes to snippets or sneak peeks. And I generally try and put it behind a cut so that if people don't want to get spoiled for anything they don't. Uhh only bit of backstory needed to understand this is Myles is a Kiffar foundling who was rescued by his adopted parents who were serving with Jaster as some of his OG True Mandalorians. They were killed in a Death Watch attack when Myles was around Jango's age so 13/14 and he's now 22. He was technically old enough to be considered an adult, so he sort of floated around the camp though as he comes to find out he got low-key tricked into being unofficially adopted by Jaster and another of the older Mandalorian. In that, they lured him in like a feral tooka and he just sorta ended up...staying.

Okay so enjoy 1,300 words of Jaster and Myles bonding and Jaster doing his best to be a B+ parent. And as always, this is super rough with a bare minimum of anything resembling editing or proof-reading.

Jaster fought back a groan at the twinge of pain that ran up his leg when he carefully sat down in the chair next to Myles.

Since he wasn’t the type to beat around the bush, the dark-haired Mandalorian slanted a look over at his young aide-de-camp. “So....you’re making friends with a Jedi? That’s nice?”

Myles groaned and buried his face in his hands because this was definitely the conversation he’d been dreading ever since Jango opened his big, fat mouth. “It’s not like that.”

“Hey, I’m not one to judge. I’m the last person who will judge you for becoming friendly with a Jedi. Or anything else for that matter.”

The younger man pinned him with a look that needed no translation. Myles was all too aware of what he and Plo Koon got up to. They might have tried to keep things quiet between them but there were a select few who’d found out over the years. Thankfully, none of them were blabbermouths and they had kept their relationship on the down low mostly.

“Mace is....nice. He was nice and kind to me when I needed it after Jango was hurt. I didn't know a Jedi could be nice like that. I mean, outside of Plo Koon but I always felt like that was just him, not because he was a Jedi, you know?"

"I get it. Turns out we might not have been exactly charitable to our ancient enemies when we were demonizing them. Go figure."

"Exactly. So we got to talking, and I realized he’s fun to hang out and talk to as well. That’s about it, honestly.”

“Good, I’m glad you made a friend. Jango was definitely painting things in a different light back there is all.”

“Because he’s a little shabuir.” Myles grumbled under his breath.

“He’s probably jealous, to be honest. And threatened that you might replace him with someone else. You’re his ori'vod in everything but name.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, he’s fourteen so I’m pretty sure most of the things running through his head are like that. All I am saying is, if things with you and this Jedi were to turn to something more, I have your back. And I won’t judge you for it either.”

“Definitely putting the cart before the eopie there, Jaster.”

“I know, I just never want you to think I wouldn’t have your back and support you in anything you chose. You have a good head on your shoulders, Myles. And you have never put me in a position where I questioned your judgment in anything. So just know I’ll be in your corner either way.” He said quietly as he met the younger man’s eyes directly.

Myles felt a well of emotion he couldn’t even name blossom to life in his chest and he had to take a breath to center himself before he could plan words. Hearing Jaster say that was a lot to process. Especially considering the man’s position as both his Mand’alor but also the nebulous place he had in his life where he fluctuated from being a sort of older brother, a mentor, and even a surrogate father figure.

Having the man reaffirm his trust in Myles touched a wound inside the young man that had never fully healed in the years since his own adopted parents were killed.

“Thanks, Jaster.” Myles finally got out, his voice rough with emotion. The older man seemed to recognize his words had affected Myles in some way because a concerned look and he laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Myles? You okay, vod?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just-” Myles had to break off and take another breath. “It’s been a long week and I think I needed to hear that.”

Jaster’s concerned expression softened into one of understanding and sympathy. The hand that had been resting on his shoulder came up to muss his hair affectionately as a smile broke out on the older man’s face.

“It’s been a long week for all of us, so I get that. Just remember, if you ever have any doubts that you’re the one I entrusted the most precious person I have in your care.”

“Haar'chak!. You might actually make me cry if you keep this up, Jaster.” Myles joked, but there was more than a little of truth in his complaint. His throat felt tight with emotion.

“Sorry, verd’ika.” Jaster chuckled and bumped his shoulder against Myles’s in an affectionate gesture. “Well, let me make it more complicated for you since I have a terrible sense of timing, something I think we can both agree on?”

Myles shot him a wary look. “Yes?”

The Kiffar packed a lot of questions into that single word.

“I once asked you after Ruus and Cina passed if you wanted to join my House. You said no at the time, and I completely understand why.”

Judging by the way Myles’s eyes went wide with surprise, that had not been what he’d been expecting Jaster to say.

By now, the pulse of pain that he felt whenever the subject of his parents’ death got brought up was achingly familiar and expected. The ache of their loss some days felt like it was a million kilometers away while others it felt like someone had ripped the wound open anew and was a bloody, stinging mess in his heart.

“I didn’t want to give up their name. That name is the only thing I still have of them.” Outside of the damaged remains of their armor which he had tucked safely away and kept under his bed at their base on Concord Dawn.”

“A sentiment I completely understand and one I respect.” Jaster agreed neutrally.

“I’m also a bit too old to be adopted at this point. I don’t need a legal guardian or parental figure.”

“Ehhh, maybe not the legal guardian part, but the latter. I think that’s subjective. But I’m not trying to take the place of your buire, not really. I was hoping if nothing else, you would consider joining my House as a vassal if not as a family. I respect the need to want to keep your family’s name and their legacy alive.”

A puzzled look filled the younger man’s eyes then because he didn’t understand why Jaster was asking him this.

“It would put my mind at ease knowing that if something were to happen to me that Jango wouldn’t be completely alone out there in the galaxy. You grew up as a camp kid. You know how it can be if you don’t have someone out there keeping a watchful eye on you. Even if it is in an unofficial matter.”

The realization of what Jaster was asking dawned on Myles and settled into his stomach like a lead weight. He didn’t even want to consider a world where Jaster Mereel didn’t exist. It didn’t even matter that it was a completely ridiculous and illogical wish because he was going to die one day. All of them would die, sometimes far too young and too violent for it to be fair or just. That was even more true for a Mando’ade like Jaster who’d made soldering his professional career.

But the man was right because Myles did know what it was like to grow up as an unattached kid too stubborn to let themselves be adopted or taken in by a Clan officially and he knew Jango would be the same way. Myles had been lucky in a lot of ways because he’d the likes of Jaster and old Aran to watch out for him, but also because Jaster ran a tight ship and the True Mandalorians were an honorable bunch of Mandalorians.

He’d heard horror stories of other kids not so blessed to be surrounded by men and women who held true to the Resol'nare.

“I know it’s a lot to ask and I probably have no right doing it, but I wasn’t kidding about you being his ori'vod.”

“I’ll do it.” Myles didn’t even have to stop and think about that one. “I would be honored to do that. Though for both our sakes, probably don’t mention that to Jango as the reason for doing it.”

#el writes #wip sunday #jaster mereel #myles the mandalorian #jaster mereel's b+ parenting #seeds for the future fic #fanfic snippets

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livinlavidavili · 2 years

Note

I watch him go and nod to myself before heading to my room, spending time to myself before falling asleep.

That night, four legions get an emergency alarm sent to our comm’s. Master Plo’s, Master Windu’s, Aayla’s, and my men all race to the hangar, our shios taking off faster than any previous mission has required.

When we arrive on the planet Florrum, the trenches the last legion dug have been completely decimated, Master Darté and his men’s bodies littering the ground. The dirt painted with blood, limbs long severed flying into the air with every explosion kicking them up.

Last I remember before falling into only General mode, was sending a small nudge of love to Anakin and Obi-Wan, wanting them to know I love them before I die. As I’m sure I will.

Master Windu and I take the left while Master Plo and Aayla take the left, digging with the Force to try and get any semblance of a safe place for everyone to hide.

Two hours into the battle and my robes are already stained enough that one would have thought they were made of red fabric in the first place. Six hours in and were down more than ten thousand men, several dying in my arms or simply by my feet, a hand grasped onto my ankle. Those ones are worse, I think. Worse than anything.

By the first nightfall, Master Plo and I – the only ones able to heal – are already too busy to sleep, focused on saving as many men as possible. The price is small compared to being able to ensure some will live. Though, men that thank me the night before… seem to die on the field the next day. No matter what I do.

On the third day, my hands are too shaky to man my own blaster, my saber fumbling every now and then. I pull as much as I can from the Force to ensure I can still fight, going into a state of half-meditation. I have to try. Jet needs me. Thank the Force we left Max home.

The feeling of Master Windu’s hand, grasping the back of my head and pushing my face so close to the ground that dirt gets into my nose, is something I’ll never forget. The way he sent out a warm nudge in the Force, his thumb just barely brushing back and forth in my hair, as though he even tried to comfort me. He tried to comfort me. Through all this. That small act of kindness is what pushes me to save his leg that night, through two hours of healing and three fainting spells out of exhaustion. I’m allowed three hours of sleep that night in reward.

In the middle fourth day, something unspeakable happens. I’m turned around, my hands fumbling to wrap my fingers up with a bandage, having accidentally cut them on a piece of flying metal from a nearby grenade explosion. A warning shouts in the Force and I turn around as quick as I can, which is much too slow. One of my men, Woodly, jumps in front of me just in time. I watch him in dawning horror as the blaster shot meant for me goes right through his skull, hid blood spraying out the back hole of his helmet, splattering my face and into my mouth, half opened in a yell.

They say I threw up for nine hours after, screaming and crying the entire time.

Aayla gets a direct shot to her lek on the fifth day, and it takes Master Plo and I huddled around her for an hour to ensure theres no nerve damage left behind, only a small white scar left on. I hold her head in my lap and sing to her in a whisper, my voice gone since the first day.

We win, on the sixth day. Not a single break allotted amongst the fighting. Nights sleepless. Riddled with blaster wounds, every surface of skin torn to shreds from flying shrapnel, hair matted, eyes more dull than a rusted coin. We went through hell and look like it.

The Temple was warned the minute we loaded up onto the ship. Kix would need every healer, every bed, every vial of morphine possibly available to him.

When the ramp opens, it takes an entire minute before the first person moves to get off- Aayla. And Windu. Both able to walk off on their own. Master Plo has to be carried, and Jet slowly starts to walk me off. Both of us so drained we couldn’t even tap in the Force.

The second everyone starts to walk off the ships, Kix's breath catches in his throat, tears burning his eyes as he starts directing people with a shaky voice to all the stretchers waiting.

Jet waits for directions from one of Kix's assistants and gives them a small nod, slowly walking you over to an open stretcher. He silently helps you onto it and leans on the side bar for a second, fighting with whatever remaining strength he has to not pass out right there.

He looks around to see if anyone is here to welcome all of you, finding himself thankful when the hangar is completely cleared. Kix must have ordered it cleared so that he had the room to work. General Kenobi will most likely be let in once Kix is sure you're cleaned up- surely Kenobi's banging at the doors right now, wherever he's being held up.

Kix comes over and cups your cheek gently, his hand positively trembling- something that's rarely happened in his time as a doctor. "Are- Are you okay?" he whispers tightly, holding back his tears as he studies your body and takes in all your injuries.

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imagineyourworld · 3 years

Text

The Wife

Wolffe x Fem!Padawan!Reader

Summary: When visiting a backwards village Plo Koon’s Padawan has to pretend to be married to Commander Wolffe in order to get the residents to back off

Warnings: Misogyny, a bit of nudity, a bit spicy making out

Check out my other work here

-------

You had been walking for what felt like hours when your Master, Plo Koon, received a message and asked you to join him at the front of the train of walking soldiers.

“(Y/N), my dear, I have some unfortunate news”, he started.

You looked at your Master expectically. Unfortunate news could mean basically anything and you could only hope that it wasn’t anything that would massively complicate your relief mission.

“As you know we’re going to deliver supplies to the Gonchee people here, and we don’t know much about them.” You simply nodded, not wanting to interrupt your Master, who continued just a moment later. “Master Yoda just forwarded me recent information we gained about the Gonchee. It seems they see human women as nothing more than, for a lack of a better word, prices or trophies to be won or taken.”

Your curious expression morphed into one of shock and disgust. Of course you knew that not every planet had the same standards when it came to equality between the sexes, but this level of misogyny was something you hadn’t expected to be confronted with.

“If I had known earlier I would have offered to let you stay on Coruscant or accompany another battalion”, Plo tried to apologize. But you just shook your head.

“It’s quite alright, Master. If I am to be a Jedi knight soon I will have to learn to handle situations such as this one, though I cannot say I am happy.”

Plo put a heavy hand on your shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. He knew you were capable of handling yourself and could fight off a couple of Gonchee if necessary, but as your Master he still felt responsible and worried for your safety and wellbeing.

“Master Yoda also said that the Gonchee usually don’t bother married women, they consider them to be claimed by their husband.”

You looked up to your Master, expecting him to continue, but he just stared straight ahead, his expression never betraying his thoughts.

“I am not married, though”, you finally said.

“No, you’re not. You’re a Jedi and shouldn’t have attachments”, he answered.

Part of you wanted to correct him. You were not a Jedi, not yet at least. But the other, bigger, part was overjoyed your Master considered you a Jedi and not just a Padawan.

“I suppose I could ask Commander Wolffe to pretend to be your husband. Just for your safety, of course”, Plo continued.

For a fraction of a second you lost your balance, but quickly managed to catch your footing again. He couldn’t know about your crush on Wolffe, could he? Sure, your Master was a great Jedi, strong in the force, and he knew you better than anyone, having raised you like his own daughter, but you have been so careful to hide your feelings for your commander.

“Only if that’s what you want, of course.”

You took a moment to consider the proposition. Feelings aside, it was a good idea. If being ‘married’ would make sure the Gonchee wouldn’t bother you and ensure you could do your job that was a good thing, the rational thing to do.

Finally you nodded. “Only if Wolffe wants to, though. Otherwise I’ll ask Sinker.”

-------

Wolffe hasn’t been watching you and the General, that would be ridiculous. And of course he hasn’t noticed how your hair shines in the sun or how you smile at your Master with love and trust in your eyes. And when Plo Koon asked to talk to him a while later he wasn’t hoping to find out more about your conversation with him, that thought never crossed his mind.

“Wolffe, I have a favour to ask you.”

Wolffe simply nodded. He would to anything for the kind Jedi who treated him and his brothers like actual people, who never showed them anything other than respect.

“Of course, General. What is it?”

“I want you to be married to (Y/N).”

It took all the self control Wolffe could gather not to look at the Jedi, not to blush and not to let his feelings show.

“Is this a test?”, he asked. Though it seemed out of character for Plo, maybe he was trying to get Wolffe to confess his feelings for you. Feelings he had spent months and months trying to deny and repress, feelings that would get him in more trouble than he could ever imagine if anyone were to find out.

“No, no”, the General reassured his Commander. He then told Wolffe about the situation and why he was asking this of him.

Wolffe nodded along with the explanation before finally daring to look at Plo.

“Did (Y/N) suggest me as her fake husband?”, he asked, trying his best to keep his voice even and steady. He knew it was a arisky question that might tell the Jedi more about his feelings than he should know, but he couldn’t help but wonder and he wouldn’t agree if you would rather be fake married to one of his brothers instead of him.

“It was my idea, though she seemed to be quite happy with you as her ‘husband’“, Plo answered in a tone that told Wolffe the Jedi had to be smiling under his mask. “I just thought you were the obvious choice, considering how close the two of you are.”

Wolffe nodded, not knowing what to say.

“That makes sense”, he finally said.

Plo looked at the young man next to him. Though Wolffe’s expression was usually stoic, now it was even more so. It seemed forced, as if he was trying his best not to let any feelings show. The General couldn’t help but realize just how similar the clone’s expression was to yours just a bit earlier.

“Maybe you should go to (Y/N) to discuss how you’re going to handle the situation. I’ll inform the others to play along”, Plo suggested after a few moments of awkward silence and with a quick “Yes, sir” Wolffe turned around to find you amidst the soldiers.

-------

By the time you were nearing the village, you and Wolffe had just finished your plan.

“Let’s go over it one last time”, he suggested.

You opted not to tell him that that would be the third ‘one last time’, partly because you knew he didn’t like being corrected and would not hesitate so snap at you, partly because going over this plan like any other mission made it easier for you to let it sink in that this was just that, a plan, a mission, pretend. You were not married to Wolffe, nor would you ever be. The two of you were friends, nothing more. Because no matter how you felt, how you’ve been feeling for quite some time now, you could never be together, even on the off chance that Wolffe reciprocated your feelings.

“The Gonchee don’t know anything about Jedi, other than that we’re here to help, so they won’t find our ‘marriage’ suspicious. We’ll them we met at the beginning of the war and have been married for a couple of months. Really, Wolffe, it’s not that complicated, I’m sure we’ll both be able to remember to play the part.”

The snark reply you had been expecting didn’t come. Instead Wolffe simply nodded and stared straight ahead.

“Just remember to keep physical contact to a minimum”, he reminded you for the fifth time.

You rolled your eyes. Sure, Wolffe had never been one for hugs and cuddling, unlike many of his brothers, who often seeked you out for a comforting hug, but he really didn’t have to tell you to keep your hands to yourself every couple of minutes, you were not some hormonal teenager.

“Will do, Commander.”

Without another word, or even so much as a nod, Wolffe speeded up his steps to join Master Plo at the front.

“What’s gotten into your husband?”

You turned around to find Sinker looking at you with an amused expression, Boost right beside him sporting a smug grin.

“Guess he’s just not too thrilled about being fake married to me”, you tried to joke, even though just the thought hurt more than you cared to admit. Of course you knew nothing could ever happen between you, but you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t hoped that this mission would allow you to pretend for just a little while, to maybe get closer to him.

“If he really didn’t want to do it, he wouldn’t do it. I heard him talking to the General, Plo asked him, he didn’t order him. Wolffe could have stepped down and let one of us take his place. And I’m sure most of us would have happily done so”, Boost claimed, laying a hand on your shoulder and sending you a warm smile.

Maybe it would have been better to do this with someone else, someone who would put his arms around you to really sell the story and who you could laugh about the whole affair with afterwards. And yet you knew that being in a ‘relationship’ with anyone other than Wolffe would have been worse than Wolffe’s obvious dislike of the whole situation.

“It’s fine. Wolffe’s just being Wolffe, he’ll come around once we arrive at the village”, you tried to reassure both the troopers and yourself.

-------

Wolffe had, in fact, not come around by the time you reached the village. He had spent the rest of the way talking to your Master and completely ignoring you. It was moments like this that made you question why you even had feelings for him, he was so hot and cold, sending you gentle smiles and sharing inside jokes one moment and acting like you didn’t even know each other the next. But it was those few moments when his gentler side, which you alway thought was more his true self, showed, that kept you hooked.

It was Plo Koon who interrupted your thoughts by asking you to join him and Wolffe at the front to greet the Gonchee.

The small creatures were no bigger than Jawas, had greenish fur and ears that reminded you of Loth cats, other than that they looked pretty human.

“Good evening. I am General Plo Koon, these are Commander (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Commander Wolffe and the 104th. We were sent by the Republic to deliver supplies and help you reset your village.”

The Gonchee at the front, who seemed to be an older man, bowed his head slightly, the others, all male you realized, followed suit.

“Welcome, Jedi Koon. I see you have brought a female with you, I don’t suppose she’s here to stay with us?”

The way he licked his lips with his yellow tongue made you shudder. You could sense resentment practically rolling off your master at the Gonchee’s words, but more than that it was Wolffe’s arm around your shoulder that calmed you.

“My wife will most certainly not stay with you, she’ll be by my side, always.”

Maybe you imagined that his arm tightened around you as you leaned into him, but you certainly didn’t imagine the growl coming from his throat as the Gonchee looked you up and down.

“Such a shame. Having a human woman is an honor to us, you know and this one seems to be a fine specimen. You’re lucky to have her.”

Though his words sounded as if he was buying your lie and letting go of the thought of having you, whatever that meant, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that he, or any other male Gonchee, would leave you alone. Not even Wolffe looking at you from the side, a small smile on his lips, could relief you of your anxiety.

“I feel like the luckiest man in the galaxy every minute I have her next to me.”

His words were directed at the Gonchee, but somehow they felt like more. Like something one would whisper to a lover in private.

It was only when Plo spoke up again that you could tear your eyes away from Wolffe, from his warm gaze and full lips.

“The men will bring in the supplies now, if you’ll allow, and then we’ll settle for the night.”

The Gonchee at the front nodded.

“Of course, of course. Though the lady should stay with the other women. You see, we don’t allow women to do any physical labour.

-------

Several Gonchee had offered to accompany you to the hut the women of the village spend most of their time in, but you had declined. That didn’t mean you could go alone, however. The entire 104th seemed to have noticed the glances the male Gonchee shot you and had silently agreed to never let you out of their sight while you were in the village. Which is how you found yourself with your hand in the crook of Wolffe’s elbow, being lead to the ‘women’s hut’ as it was called.

“I’ve been to many planets and have met people of many cultures, but none of them were as backwards as the Gonchee. If they could see you in action they would know not to look at you like that”, your companion grumbled.

You swallowed down the urge to tell him that quite a few shinies have made their moves on you in the past, though you had shot all of them down and had to admit that none of them reduced you to your body the way the Gonchee did.

“It’s only for a couple of days. It’ll be like a mini vacation for me, not having to do any work.”

You could feel Wolffe eying you from the side but refused to look his way.

“I wish I could stay with you”, he said, more to himself than to you. “I mean someone. I wish someone, one of us, could stay with you.”

You chuckled. It was rare to see this side of Wolffe, the side that corrected his words, that stuttered and almost seemed nervous.

“I’d like you to stay. But you have a job to do and I can defend myself, should anything happen.”

You placed a hand on his arm, and though you were sure he couldn’t feel it through the plastoid armor, he seemed to relax just a little bit.

“We both know that I can take care of myself. Besides, it’s only for a couple of hours, I’ll be with you again before you know it.”

He nodded, but the frown never left his face entirely.

“I’ll have someone come in and check on you every now and then. It’s not without reason that we have to pretend to be married, we cannot be careful enough.”

Wolffe’s tone told you that there was no use in arguing. And maybe he was right, if even your Master, who you knew would never disregard your ability to fend for yourself, thought it would be safe to always have a man, to always have Wolffe, with you, it couldn’t hurt to be safe rather than sorry.

“Sounds reasonable.”

Just as soon as the words left your mouth you stopped in front of the the small building the Gonchee had told you to go to. It looked ancient and primitive compared to the skyscrapers on Coruscant and shining starships you were used to, but through the open door you could spot pillows and blankets and a roaring fire inside. At least you’d be comfortable.

The women inside seemed to have heard you approaching, because most of them stopped their work and conversations to catch a glance at you and Wolffe.

“I guess this is it”, you said more to yourself than your fellow Commander. He nodded nonetheless.

“Be careful. Don’t do anything reckless.”

You tried your best to swallow any remark since your usual answer to something like that would be exactly what Wolffe would describe as “reckless”.

“I’ll see you soon”; you replied instead. And because you could still feel the eyes of the Gonchee women on you, you lifted yourself up on your tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to Wolffe’s cheek. After all, you had to make your marriage believable.

The low noise Wolffe made shocked you for a split moment. It was a mixture between a grunt and a sigh that didn’t speak of surprise as much as... disbelief? You couldn’t quite place it. Though you tried not to think about it too much as your turned away from him and entered to hut, where the women started questioning you immediately.

-------

True to his word Wolffe had sent someone of the pack to check in on you every ten minutes or so, but despite their reports that you were perfectly fine and just talking to the women of the village, Wolffe only felt a sense of relief when he saw you again himself.

You were sitting next to Sinker on one of the many logs surrounding the fireplace. The rest of the pack as well as Plo Koon were either on logs or the ground nearby while the Gonchee, mostly the men but a few women as well, sat on the other side of the fire.

As Wolffe stepped closer you lifted your head, and as always he couldn’t tell whether you had heard his footsteps or felt his force signature.

The old Gonchee who had greeted you was the first to speak up.

“Ah, the husband returns. Such a shame, I had thought I might have a chance with that lovely woman of yours after all.”

Wolffe knew that the polite thing to do would be to answer him, but one of the first things General Koon taught his men was that it was better to say nothing at all if you didn’t have anything nice to say. So he simply walked over to where you were sitting and squeezed himself into the space between you and the end of the log, which resulted in you being squished between him and Sinker. A scenario Wolffe, being the overly protective man he is, usually wasn’t too fond of, but in this the more of the Wolfpack were around you, the better.

It was only when he felt you moving impossibly closer to him, when he smelled the last clinging bit of your sweet perfume, that had somehow endured the walk to the village and your time in the women's’ hut, that he was finally able to relax. You’d be right next to him, or at least one of his brothers or the General, for the rest of the night, meaning you were safe from the Gonchee for now.

Suddenly he felt your lips right next to his ear, your breath hitting his skin.

“If we wanna sell this marriage you cannot just sit there like a droid, Wolffe.”

The way you whispered, almost purred, his name made shivers run down his spine. And though he tried to suppress it, your soft giggle told him that you’d noticed.

With a small sigh he put his arm around your waist and pulled you even closer to him. So close that he could practically feel your body melting into his, though he tried not to think about how right it felt to have you in his arms, how your body seemed to perfectly fit right next to his.

“Is this better?”, he whispered in your ear. Out of the corner of his eye he could see you biting your lip and even pressing your thighs together. He shook his head, he must have imagined that. It was probably just you trying to get comfortable in this new position.

“How long have to two of you been married?”, one of the younger Gonchee asked.

For just a moment you tensed beneath Wolffe’s arm before relaxing again.

“Just a couple of months”, you replied. Your smooth lie impressed Wolffe, being raised by Plo Koon you were usually a fan of telling the truth and he couldn’t help but wonder where you learned to lie like that.

“And you let your wife fight?”, another Gonchee asked, the disbelief clear in his voice.

Wolffe sneaked a glance at you. How could anyone look at you and not see a warrior? Sure, your appearance might not be the most threatening, but wasn’t it obvious that the way you pressed your lips together spoke of determination? That you eyes told anyone who looked into them how much you’ve been through and how deeply you cared? That your hands were calloused from holding a lightsaber and yet soft enough to comfort a clone in distress?

“It’s not up to me whether she fights or not.”

A grumble of disagreement was heard from the assembled Gonchee, or at least from the men.

“We are very fortunate to have a warrior as great as (Y/N) fighting besides us every day”, the General said after a while. For anyone who knew him it was obvious that he was trying to end the subject while defending you at the same time, but the Gonchee seemed to think of his statement as a challenge.

“But what about children? How will she carry children if she is fighting?

From the way your shoulders tensed underneath Wolffe’s arm he could tell that you were close to telling the Gonchee of once and for all, and apparently SInker on your other side could tell as well, because now he jumped into the conversation.

“They’re still newly weds, children can wait until the honeymoon phase is over, don’t you agree?”

The oldest Gonchee leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

“We do not care for such sentiments. Our women cook our food, sow our clothes, take care of our children and warm our beds, believe me, it’s easier that way. Perhaps you should try it, Commander.”

For what felt like the thousandth time that day Wolffe looked at you. Of course you knew that you had to represent the Republic wherever you went, but usually that didn’t stop you from speaking up for what’s right. He wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed by or concerned about your self restraint.

“It’s very different in our culture. We marry for love, most of the time at least”, you finally said. And if he hadn’t been staring at you already Wolffe would never have noticed the way your eyes flitted over to him when you said “love”.

Several of the Gonchee opened their mouth to argue, but lucky for the entire 104th a few women carrying trays with various foods and drinks appeared and rendered the men silent.

-------

Shortly after a near silent meal your Master stood up.

“I suppose it would be best for us to call it a night. We will have to be up early tomorrow if we want to reach out ship again before nightfall.”

The Gonchee leader stood up as well and slightly bowed his head before the Jedi.

“Very well. We have prepared our assembly hut for you, I will show you the way.” He stopped for a moment and looked over to where you were still sitting between Wolffe and Sinker. “Though I know you follow different customs, we Gonchee do not allow women to sleep in a room with people they’re not related or married to, which is why we have also prepared an empty hut for the Commander and his wife. And I suppose they will need privacy so she can perform her marital duties. My son will show them the way”

You were quite certain that at one point throughout the day your own rank as Commander had been mentioned, but even though you really wanted to correct the old Gonchee, you were tired of dealing with them all day and decided against it. Though the same could not be said for the Wolfpack. Several of them, including Wolffe and Sinker next to you as well as Boost next to Sinker, spoke up to correct him.

A younger Gonchee, who you assumed was said son, stood up and looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Alright, Commanders”, he said. The ironic way in which he pronounced the word made Wolffe roll his eyes, which by now you could tell even if you weren’t looking at him. “Follow me.”

The two of you bid goodnight to the others and did as the Gonchee had said. The thought of probably having to share a bed with Wolffe crossed your mind for a moment, but it was gone as soon as it came. Though as soon as the son opened the door to a small hut, smaller than any you had seen before, it returned.

The ceiling was low, the room was small and the only pieces of furniture were a small bed and a single bedside table.

“It’s not much but it’ll do for the night”, the Gonchee said. Though the words were probably supposed to be apologetic, his tone was anything but.

Wolffe, bowing his head due to the low ceiling, stepped into the hut while you remained outside. That, however, proved to be a mistake just a moment later, because the Gonchee stepped closer, closer than you would have wanted, and looked up at you.

“You might rather spend the night in my room, it’s bigger and more comfortable and I could really use someone in my bed, especially a pretty human woman such as yourself.”

Due to his words and the way he eyed you, especially with your private parts almost in his eyeline because of his short height, you wanted nothing more than to punch him. Maybe kick him. Maybe cut off something of his with your lightsaber. And if it hadn’t been for Wolffe you would have, and ruined your mission within a split second.

But there was Wolffe, knight in plastoid armour protecting you from any rash decisions. He had left the hut and was now standing behind you, from where he put his arms around your middle and, you were sure, glared daggers at the Gonchee.

“I suggest you leave my wife alone”, he growled and tightened his grip on you even more.

You weren’t sure whether it was his words, the growl or his arms around you and your back to his chest, but something about his behaviour did something to you. Something that would make it a million times harder to share a room, share a bed, with him tonight. As if your crush on the Commander wasn’t already bad enough...

“I thought in your culture you love the one you marry and if you love this woman you wouldn’t want her to miss out on spending a night with a real man, would you?”

If the situation wasn’t so tense you would have laughed. A real man? He was covered in fur!

“Wolffe gives me everything I need and more. I wouldn’t leave him for any man in the entire galaxy.”

It was only when the words left your mouth that you realized just how true they were. You really had to get that under control, having a crush on your fellow Commander was bad enough, you would not allow yourself to actually fall in love with him. You couldn’t jeopardize your friendship, your future as a Jedi knight, everything and everyone you’ve ever known for a man who you knew thought of you as a friend.

The Gonchee looked you up and down one last time before glaring at Wolffe.

“Then I suppose I should bid the two of you good night.”

And without another word he turned around and left the two of you alone.

As soon as he was gone Wolffe let go of you and put some distance between you.

“You should lie down, you must be tired after dealing with those idiots all day.”

His words made you turn around to face him. Once again you just couldn’t read him. One moment he made your heart beat faster by actually acting like your husband and the next he pretended like you were nothing more than acquaintances. But for once you grew tired of this behaviour and refused to oblige, instead you stepped closer to him again and put a hand on one of the arm he had crossed across his chest.

“I’m sure you’re just as tired, if not more. Let’s both go to bed.”

He raised one eyebrow, but other than that he didn’t make a move to break contact with you again.

“There’s only one bed.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, a gesture you had often copied from Wolffe himself.

“I know that. But we’re old enough and trust each other enough to sleep in the same bed for one night”, you argued. You didn’t know what made you do it, but you couldn’t resist the urge to lean even closer, stand up on your tiptoes and whisper into his ear. “You’re my husband, after all. And husband and wife usually sleep in the same bed. And how else are you supposed to protect me from the Gonchee?”

You were too close to his ear to actually see his face, but you were sure he was smirking as he scoffed.

“I thought you were plenty capable of handling the Gonchee yourself, Commander.”

The way he said your title did something to you you’d rather not investigate any further. He was teasing, of course he was, but though two could play that game you were simply too tired.

“Just join me in bed when you’re ready. Otherwise you’ll have to sleep on the cold floor and I’ll have to explain to Master Plo why his Commander is sore all over tomorrow.” You could have left it at that, you should have, but you just had to add one more sentence. “And I can think of more pleasant ways to make you sore.”

As you left him standing and entered the hut you could hear a choked noise coming from him.

-------

“Finally decided to join me?”, you teased when Wolffe slipped underneath the cover.

Wolffe didn’t answer. He couldn’t think of an answer, couldn’t think at all. Not with you so close, laying beside him, trusting him to sleep next to you, to defend you if any of the Gonchee were to try something while you were in your most defenseless state.

“Wolffe”, you whispered after a moment of silence.

Now he had no choice but to answer.

“What is it?”, he grunted. And instantly regretted his gruff reply. This was his one chance to have you close, to forget that there was no way the two of you could ever be more than friends.

“Thank you, for today. And tonight. I’m glad you’re my ‘husband’.”

Wolffe wasn’t good with words, but in that moment he really had no idea what to say.

“It really showed us what we’re missing, didn’t it? The chance to be in love, to be married and not have to hide your feelings”, you continued.

For a second Wolffe’s heart stopped beating. Could you be talking about him not having to hide your feelings or was is just a general statement? Or did you maybe mean that you... No, that was impossible.

“Anyways, we should get some sleep now, we have an early start tomorrow”, you concluded.

From then on it only took a few seconds for your breathing to even out and just was Wolffe was about to sigh in relief that he no longer had to pretend that being near you wasn’t affecting him, you rolled over from your back onto your side and were now pressed up against Wolffe.

It wasn’t just his heart that stopped now, his breathing did as well. How could he move even to take another breath with you so close, with your head resting underneath his chin, your legs intertwined with his and your arm lazily thrown over his torso.

“Damn it”, he mumbled, though he instantly came to regret having made a sound. Luckily you were still fast asleep, if anything you cuddled up even closer to Wolffe.

Slowly, more careful than he had ever been, he lifted his own arm to wrap it around your waist and pull you even closer. He let out a content sigh, breathing in the scent of your shampoo in the process.

Wolffe knew for a fact that he wouldn’t get any sleep that night. This was his one chance to share a bed with you, and even though he would have loved to fall asleep and wake up next to you, he preferred cherishing every second of the night.

-------

The next morning you were woken up not by the sun shining directly in your face, nor Wolffe’s sort snoring or the birds chirping outside, but by the unfamiliar voices speaking in what you recognized as the language of the Gonchee.

You decided that it might be best to pretend to still be asleep, which is why you moved even closer to Wolffe and buried your head underneath his chin. In turn he pulled you closer to him, which made you realize that he had had one arm around you the entire time. You were almost too distracted by the warm and comforting presence of Wolffe next to you and the safety his arm around your waist guaranteed to notice that his breathing changed as he slowly woke up. Though like you Wolffe must have decided not to make it known that he was awake, it was only the more uneven breaths and the stiffening of his body that made it obvious.

“Might I ask why you have invaded my commanders’ privacy?”, a familiar voice cut through the Gonchees’ conversation. And though you knew that it was safe to ‘wake up’ not that Plo Koon was here, both you and Wolffe still pretended to be fast asleep. Which had nothing to do with the fact that you simply didn’t want to face a reality where you weren’t cuddling in bed with Wolffe, nothing at all.

“We... I....”, one of the Gonchee stammered.

“We were here to wake them up”, another voice, who you recognized as the leader’s son, tried to explain.

You both heard and sensed you master coming closer, and though part of you was worried what he may say, or worse think, about the position you and Wolffe were in, the bigger part was comforted by the fact that the Gonchee were either afraid enough or had enough respect for the Jedi to hurry out of the hut within seconds.

“I know you’re awake.” Your Plo’s voice sounded amused rather than mad, though to be fair, in all your years of being his Padawan you had only seen him angry a handful of times, and almost never at you.

It took a lot of self-restraint to fight the urge to cuddle closer to Wolffe for one last second before opening your eyes, but you managed. In moments like these you really wished Plo wouldn’t have to wear a mask, it would make it worlds easier to guess his feelings if you could just see his face.

“I take it the two of you slept well?”, he asked. “The Gonchee certainly seemed to think so.”

You didn’t know what to say. Was there anything you could say without letting either Wolffe or Plo Koon know just how well you slept with your fellow commander by your side? How much you never wanted to go to sleep without him in your arms again and how much you already missed him, now that he was just a few centimeters away?

“Did you understand them, sir?”, Wolffe asked. It didn’t escape your notice that he didn’t answer the question either, though that could simply be due to the fact that Wolffe despised small talk, even with the man who was like a father to him.

“I understood enough to know that they believe the two of you to be very much in love. As well as a few comments I’d rather not repeat, or think about ever again”, Plo replied. As he spoke his eyes shifted between you and Wolffe, though you tried your best not to meet his gaze. You knew that he could already tell more than enough about your emotions through your force connection, if he saw your face, saw the love and admiration that must be visible in your eyes, he would know just how much you cared for Wolffe.

“I’ll let you get ready then. Be outside in 10 minutes, we’re leaving in 20.” With those words Master Plo turned around, left the hut and left the two of you alone.

You looked over at Wolffe, who, same as you, was leaning against the wobbly headboard.

“For what it’s worth, I really did sleep well. Better than I had in a long time”, you said with a slight smile on your lips. Maybe this was overstepping a boundary, but right now you didn’t care.

All Wolffe, in a very characteristic yet disappointing, fashion did was nod before standing up and starting to put on the first pieces of his armour. Other than you, who had actually changed into a pyjama while Wolffe had still been outside the hut last night, he had slept in his blacks and didn’t really have to change, or rather undress.

You, however, did. At first you glanced around the hut, looking for some sort of privacy you knew you wouldn’t find. Then you considered your options: You could ask Wolffe to leave, or to simply turn around, while you would change and he’d do it with probably only an amused smile, or you could just change real quick while he was still busy with his armour. In the blink of an eye you decided on the second option, partly because Wolffe, as well as the other clones in the 104th, had seen you bloody and sweaty, with torn clothes and in various states of undress before, either in the medbay or when you had been in a particular hurry, but mostly you just didn’t want to send Wolffe away, not after having spent the night together.

It was only when you had already changed into your regular trousers and just put on your bra when you came to regret your decision.

“What the kriff do you think you’re doing?”, Wolffe asked, his tone mostly shocked, though there was an emotion in there you couldn’t quite decipher.

“What does it look like? I’m changing.”

You had previously had your back turned to Wolffe, but his question, or rather the way in which he asked, gave you the confidence boost needed to turn around and face him.

“Would you rather I went out in my pyjama?”

This trip really was proving to be most unusual, since Wolffe seemed to be speechless.

“Of course not”, he finally said, though his voice did sound a bit off. “But you could have asked me to leave.”

By now you really didn’t know where your confidence was coming from, but as if an autopilot you stepped closer to him, close enough to see the way his eyes, as well as his pupils, widened.

“Maybe I didn’t want you to leave.”

It was a bold statement, and maybe not entirely true, but it seemed to do the trick, since a smirk found its way to Wolffe’s lips. His eyes, previously focused on your eyes, flitted down to your chest for a moment before going back up again.

“Then what is it you wanted me to do?”, he asked. “What do you want?” A clear challenge to either back down or take a leap. A challenge you shouldn’t accept, but found yourself really wanting to.

“I want you to be here, with me. I want you to be with me wherever I go. I want you next to me in bed when I go to sleep at night and when I wake up the next morning. I want you to always look at me the way you’re doing right now. I want you to touch me and kiss me and make me yours. Maker, Wolffe, I want you!”

The words were out of your mouth without thinking. Just like that, you had voiced every thought running through your brain, made yourself vulnerable to Wolffe’s reaction, whatever it might be. Though you had never expected it to be an arm, already covered in plastoid, to wrap around your waist and a hand, warm and steady, on the back of your neck.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that”, he mumbled before crashing his lips against yours.

Though you didn’t have much experience, you knew that this was what a kiss was supposed to be. It was not a clashing of teeth, like your first kiss, nor hesitant and barely there, like your second, but a perfect mixture. Wolffe wasn’t rough, though there was just enough force to tell you that he could be if that’s what you wanted. His lips worked against yours as if they were made to, teeth softly grazing your bottom lip a few times before biting down. He nibbled on your lip, then caressed it with his tongue before giving the same treatment to your top lip. Some time during the kiss your hands had found their way into his hair, pulling it and pulling him closer at the same time, finally feeling the soft strands between your fingers and causing Wolffe to moan at the sensation. By the time his tongue made its way into your mouth you could have sworn that your legs were made of jelly, that you had moved on to whatever came after this life, that this was a dream.

Even when Wolffe pulled away to catch his breath you didn’t dare to open your eyes, afraid of the reality you would find if you did.

You heard Wolffe’s low chuckle before his lips were on you again. This time he gently kissed your cheeks, the corners of your lips, before making his way down. He spread small bites on your jaw and then followed his teeth with his tongue, soothing the slight sting. Though it was a spot high up on your neck, just beneath your jaw, that finally got a reaction from you. You tightened your grip on his hair as his lips ghosted over the spot and moaned when they pressed harder.

“So needy”, Wolffe chuckled.

All you did to reply was pull his head up again for another kiss, one that was faster and more heated than the last. Though as soon as you pulled away his lips found their way to the same spot again. He began to suck while at the same time pulling you back to the bed. You wondered how he had enough sense to sit down and pull you into his lap, all your thinking had abandoned you the moment his lips first met yours.

“Wolffe, I - kriff, stop -”, you panted.

As soon as you said the word he pulled away, though his hands still had a grip on you, it loosened and he looked at you with nothing but love and lust in his eyes.

“What is it, mesh’la?”

For a moment you leaned your forehead against his shoulder before straightening up again and looking at him.

“As much as I’d love for you to leave hickeys all over, we both know that you can’t. No one can know this ever happened”, you told him, making sure to put just enough authority in your voice to make him take you seriously.

A sly grin was on his lips as soon as the words left your mouth.

“I know, cyare”, he reassured you. He leaned closer again, though this time his lips didn’t move to your neck, but to your ear. “But later I’ll mark you in places where no one but me will see.”

The thought alone send shivers down your spine and heat to your core, but it also placed a smile on your face.

“Looking forward to it”, you said and placed a quick peck on his lips. Though you should have known that Wolffe wouldn’t leave it at that. He pulled you closer once again, the hand on your waist now moving upwards and to the front until it cupped your breast. Gently, in stark contrast to the way he bit down on your lip, he squeezed and massaged in before moving on to the other one.

Another moan escaped your lips, this one even louder.

“Careful, we don’t want anyone to hear you, do we?”

You were about to nod in agreement when an idea popped into your head.

“I bet hearing me would make the Gonchee really believe that we’re married.”

Wolffe chuckled as he once again moved his hands to your waist.

“I think they already believe us, cyare.”

-------

It had taken the two of you a while to finally separate and make yourselves look presentable, and only when you heard Sinker calling for the last men to hurry up did you finally leave the hut.

Now, on your way back to the ship, the two of you were finally together again after you had talked to Plo Koon and Wolffe to the other clones for a while.

“You know, I’m really glad it was you I was fake married to”, you confessed in a whisper.

Wolffe’s hand brushed against yours for a second while he chuckled.

“You know, maybe one day we can scratch the ‘fake’.”

He saw the surprise in your eyes as you looked up to him. Truth be told, he hadn’t meant to say that in that moment, but he knew he wanted it to be true. Some day, when the war was over, if you would still want him by your side by then.

“I’d like that. I’d like that very much”, you said with a smile. “But first, I think there’s something else we need to do, once we have some time and privacy.”

Wolffe knew exactly what you were talking about, and though he couldn’t wait to feel you, to hear you and touch you again, he also couldn’t wait for the day he would get to call you his wife for real. Maybe, after such a long time of denying his feelings and then refusing to act on them, this trip to the Gonchee village and pretending to be married had been good for something after all.

I tried to put a little bit of everything (and by ‘everything’ I mean some of my favourite tropes) into this story, I hope you enjoyed it.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. <3

#wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x you #commander wolffe x you #wolffe x y/n #commander wolffe x y/n #commander wolffe imagine #wolffe imagine

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starlightrows · 2 years

Text

If Not Love Enduring

Masterlist

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Warning: Angst, grief, loss, depression, coping in unhealthy ways, post clone wars era, alluding to suicide (not the character), alcohol, drinking, memory loss

Summary: It was always understood that he would be the one to pass away first. He was never supposed to out live you

“What is grief, if not love enduring”

From the moment you met, there was an understanding. An unspoken truth that lived in the hearts and minds of every man that marched away to war from the watery planet of Kamino. The horrible truth that they were born to die.

Their intended purpose was to die in battle. For cause they never had a choice in supporting. For a future they were never meant to be a part of. It was drilled into their heads and beaten into their souls.

And then the war was over. In fire and blood and betrayal. They did what good soldiers do, follow orders. Many died, as they were destined to. But many did not. Many had to look at the faces of their friends, their brothers in arms, their military superiors… that they had just killed in cold blood. With no free will or control of themselves.

Many were driven to follow their brothers in death. Others continued following orders and assimilated into the new army of the Empire. Others saw their opportunity and fled.

That is how it came to be that your commanding officer, and your secret lover, Wolffe, hunted you down after you disappeared on Cato Neimoidia.

You watched General Plo Koon’s ship get shot out of the sky by his men. Your men. Your friends. They continued firing at the wreckage, even after it had crashed. This was no accident.

You did not wait to find out what happened. You took nothing with you. You just ran. You ran until the sounds of the horrors behind you faded into the sounds of the horrors of night time in the jungle.

Wolffe knew the moment he heard the chancellors order. Something was wrong. At that moment he could not recognize any one of his brothers. Because all of them were the same. Unfeeling machines, like droids they fought so hard to destroy, programmed to target and destroy the Jedi and any civilian military that posed a threat. But not him.

He himself had to run for his life. His lack of unwavering compliance branded him an enemy same as you. It was only later, after you’d been reunited, that the two of you discovered that his implant had been damaged and removed when his cybernetic eye was integrated.

The threat of him dying in battle was over. He lived to love another day. Then it was a matter of survival day to day. Finding somewhere to hide. Getting jobs that paid enough and kept the both of you out of trouble. Scraping together enough money to make rent and eat. Saving up enough to move on to another planet, a safer one with better jobs and better housing.

Still. He knew it. And you knew it too. The passing years were beginning to show. In small ways af first. Not having to do physical conditioning training every single day and eating real food, softened his body. A good look on him you assured him every night. Then the slight graying of his hair. The wrinkles on his face and hands. He was aging just as fast as he did when he was a boy. Like all the others. He would be gone in half the lifetime he deserved.

You’d heard that some clone survivors were desperately seeking a cure. A vaccine. A drug therapy of some kind to halt the accelerated aging process. The fear of an untimely death and bitterness of the injustice that they’ve suffered driving them to fight for a cure.

But Wolffe was already tired. His military career and now life in hiding has run him down. He said something to the point of wanting to enjoy what little time he has left, with the one thing he always knew we was fighting to have. You.

So you agreed. If a cure came about, he would happily take it and enjoy a long happy life with you. But he would not concern himself with trying to find one. He would not waste another day doing anything that would not directly lead to your happiness. He fully intended to spend every moment he could with you until the day he died.

Twenty years. Twenty amazing years of traveling, swimming, dancing, gardening, cooking, truly living. And then one day. You did not want to accompany him to go shop at the local market. One of your favorite pastimes. You said you were not feeling well that day.

You never recovered from that day forward. Your illness consumed you. Made you sicker and sicker every day. No amount of medicine could help it. It was already too late.

In those days before your passing he felt that desperation his brothers felt to find a cure for their own accelerated mortality. Only he didn’t care about his own life. However unfair it was that he was doomed to die a young man on the inside, it was unacceptable in his mind that you should die so young on the outside.

Wolffe was always ready to die. But he was never ever ready to mourn.

He remembered what General Plo used to say about love and attachment. That love is not wrong. That love is a wonderful thing that all living things should embrace. But that attachment was a poison that ultimately led to suffering. The inability to let something go would be the death of joy.

Wolffe always thought he understood this sentiment. He loved his brothers, but was already ready to see them die in battle. He loved you. More than anything else in the universe. He thought that he was ready to leave you, die himself and move on into the next life… whatever that may be.

But he was wrong. The agonizing pain that followed your passing was unimaginable. Because he was attached. Fully and wholeheartedly attached without even being aware of it.

His grief consumes him. He finds that he can not sleep alone in the bed where you should be next to him. He can not eat because nothing seems to have any sort of taste or flavor. He finds that the only thing that makes him feel something is very strong Corelian whiskey, lots of it.

That’s where Rex finds him. At the bottom of a bottle with tears streaming down his face and his nose running. Sitting in the alley behind the pub that doesn’t have the heart to serve him anymore.

“You’re not alone my friend”

Wolffe stares at the hand extended to him. Thinks briefly about batting it away and sucking the backwash out of the whiskey bottle. But something compels him to take Rex’s hand and follow wherever it is that Rex leads him.

When he’s sobered up and more aware of his surroundings he realizes, he isn’t alone. Rex brought him to wherever he’s been hiding out all these years.

“Echo?” Wolffe is shocked “You’re…”

“Alive? I know, I’m as surprised as you are” Echo hugs his old friend, giving him a clap on the back and a squeeze to make it count.

There’s another clone present, one he doesn’t recognize. Wolffe looks to him, hoping for an introduction.

“Gregor” he shakes Wolffe’s hand

The men sit around this old table for hours speaking about the war. About the years that followed. Where they’ve been, who’s survived, and who has not.

“She’s gone Rex” Wolffe tells them sadly “I was never supposed to outlive my girl”

“Outlived mine too” Rex admits “Took a blaster bolt to the chest getting me out of harms way… I think about her every day”

“We all know I’m well past my expiration date” Echo joked “There’s hardly any of me left”

“At least you’re all sure of who you are and where you came from” Gregor adds “I’d give anything to remember why I’m alive. Who I should be thanking. Too many years of explosions and bad rations. Can’t remember shit” he laughs a bit awkwardly

“You remember to brew the caf every morning, and that’s more important than remembering a war that sucked anyway” Rex says, trying to lift their brothers spirits

He doesn’t know why… but sitting at this table, with men just as lost and alone and broken as he feels, makes him feel better. The thought of freshly brewed caf every morning is something to look forward to.

You may be gone. But his life is not over yet. There is still caf to drink. Food to try. Memories to make. Brothers to support. And maybe someday, when his life really does come to an end, you’ll be on the other side waiting for him. As he had always meant to wait for you.

#Commander Wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #my clone huband #wolffe’s wifey

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monako-jinn-stories · 3 years

Text

Ahh thank you all for 104 followers! In honor of this mark, I am posting a little Wolffepack fluff.

Also, check out this amazing art that I requested from @three-fold-symmetry

They’re just so cute🥺 the Wolffepack is my favorite battalion by far (besides my OC battalion, of course)

This is also my first attempt at a gender neutral reader, I thought it would be better to represent all my followers!

Master List

A Visit from the Wolves

Wolffepack/Plo Koon X Gender Neutral Jedi Reader

It had been a long battle. The men of the 104th were tired and dirty. They were also hungry, having not had time to eat for the three days the fighting had lasted. Even Plo Koon was as exhausted as his men, having fought by their side the entire time.

“Har’chaak,” Wolffe said, causing Plo to look in his direction.

“What is it, Commander?”

“We need to refuel, General. We don’t have nearly enough to make it to Coruscant.”

“Hmmm. What is the closest planet?”

“Dohbar,” Wolffe responded after looking at the map. He perked up slightly when he said this. “That’s where General Jinn is from, isn’t it?”

“Indeed it is. I’m sure we would be welcome guests there if we stopped by. Y/n might even try to throw a party for us, if they are there,” Plo chuckled smoothly.

“Should I tell the admiral to head there?”

“Yes, Wolffe, please do.”

“Yes, sir,” he nodded before going to find the admiral, a new skip in his step. Plo smiled under his mask, thinking of how excited the rest his troopers would be when they saw you.

You were sitting in your garden, enjoying the nice sunny day when you saw the Venator slowly fly into view. You recognized it as Plo’s and jumped up excitedly at the unexpected visit.

“Plo!” You said as you burst into the hanger, seeing him and his troops exit the ship.

“What are you doing here? Not that I don’t want you, I’m just surprised!”

“We were running very low on fuel and I thought it would be nice to pay a visit to your home. You know I haven’t been here in a while,” he replied smoothly.

“Yes, it’s been far too long. And how’s the big bad Wolffe doing?” You tease as you glance behind Plo.

“Not too bad, General Jinn. Just a bit tired, that’s all.” You brought your brows together as you saw the bags under his eyes and the slight hollow to his cheeks.

“When was the last time you all ate?” You questioned.

“About four days ago,” Warthog said as he approached you.

“Four days?!” You nearly shrieked. “Maker! Go, take showers. All of you smell. Yes, even you, Plo,” you said as he gave you a look. “When you’re done, dinner will be ready.”

“Ah, you don’t have to do all that just for us,” Sinker said.

“Quiet, Sinker. Let them do what they want for us!” Boost said while giving his brother a look. You laughed to yourself at the boys. Boost loved your cooking, and he clearly wasn’t going to let his brother take away his chance at having more of it.

“Go on,” you said, shooing everyone away, Plo staying behind to talk to you. “I said you too, Plo.”

He chuckled to himself before he pulled you into his grasp. You sighed contently at the warmth emitting through the force.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” you mumbled into his chest. He hummed in response as he traced your back with a talon. You stood quietly in his embrace for a few minutes, enjoying the comfort of having him back with you.

“You still smell,” you joked as you pulled back slightly, looking up at where his eyes were covered by his goggles.

“I believe I recall you saying you enjoy my scent, my dear,” he countered playfully.

“Yeah, when you don’t smell like this. Now go, take a shower. I need to cook for your troops.”

“Whatever you desire, my dear,” he said before resting his forehead against yours. This was you little way of kissing, as he couldn’t exactly kiss you. You placed a gentle kiss on his antiox mask before pulling out of his arms and heading to the kitchen.

“Kriffing… Hells… Maker…” Boost said as he shoveled his food into his mouth. “General Jinn, I swear you never fail to make the best meals.”

You laughed as you watched him scarf down his plate, Sinker side eyeing his brother.

“Glad to hear it, Boost.” He gave you a thumbs up before he reached to get seconds. Plo sat beside you, fondly looking at all his men as they filled themselves up. The smell of soap and shampoo was overpowering, but you didn’t mind as long as they were happy.

“How’s the 17th been, General?” Wolffe said from Plo’s other side.

“They’re doing well. Sans still hasn’t forgotten the drink you promised him.”

Wolffe chuckled before responding. “Well, tell your commander that he better be ready to go out when I get back to Coruscant. I’m dragging him straight to 79’s.”

“Not until after the mission debrief,” Plo casually commented.

“Of course, sir,” Wolffe said.

“How was the mission?” You asked, glancing at Plo.

“It went well, my dear. It was a long few days of fighting, but in the end we were able to overcome our enemy.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.” You left the question of casualties alone. You could tell by the actions of some troopers that they had lost some close brothers. Instead you decided to talk about casual things. Well, casual for clones, such as what new weapons they’ve been wanting or new strategies to test out. Once everyone finished eating, you all agreed to go to an empty room and watch a holovideo. Half of the troopers piled onto a couch, squeezing until they were all elbows in ribs. They of course stuck you in the middle, making sure you were surrounded by their love. The others sat in front of it on the floor, sprawled out in a multitude of positions.

The only person awake at the end of the holovideo was Plo. He looked up from his spot on the floor to see your new position. He smiled when he saw how comfortable you were with his boys. You had moved so you were sideways on the couch, legs draped over Sinker’s lap as you leaned into Boost’s chest. Your arm hung down to loosely rest around the little Wolffe who was sitting in front of your spot on the couch. You moved slightly in your sleep, face nuzzling deeper into Boost’s chest, causing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you impossibly closer. Your legs also shifted in Sinker’s lap, and he gently placed his hands on top of them. Wolffe moved so that your hand would be in his hair, and in your sleep you began to gently run your fingers through it. Plo smiled a massive grin, though it was mostly hidden by his antiox mask. He took out a cam to capture the moment before he went to leave the room.

“Buir?” He heard a rough and tired voice call. He looked back to see Warthog covering a yawn. He waved Plo back over, moving so that he could have a spot on the couch between him and Comet. Plo’s heart swelled even more for his Wolffepack. He quietly made his way back over and settled down, Comet and Warthog both immediately snuggling up to his side. He heard a small giggle and looked over to see you watching him. You gave him a smile before closing your eyes again, falling back asleep surrounded by Plo’s Bros.

Tag list. Let me know if you want to be added!

@imabeautifulbutterfly @lightning-wolffe @namesmox

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emperor-palpaminty · 2 years

Note

Hi hello umm new follower here and I would like to tell you that I read this a good fifty times in the last few days. There's just something so intimate about the way you detailed the scene, and the rain and Wolffe's inner thoughts and how he admires her smile and how she's so calm with him and I was wondering, only if you want though, if you could maybe write a part two? Only if you want, no pressure at all. In the meantime, I'll just keep reading it. Thank you and I love your writing btw 😅🥰🥰

Oh! Hello new follower! I'm so glad you like my fic with Wolffe 💖 i feel like my boy just needs some gentle peace, and i will happily give it to him. Disney hire me

Also please go read the fic linked in the ask first to understand this one! I hope you’re doing well, 221, I saw you were on hiatus! I hope everything is going well. Please take this fic as comfort.

Wolffe hated Kamino. The only thing that kept him tethered were the young cadets, with his face and dark eyes, the same eagerness and thirst of other on their face. He didn't know much, even as he watched the cadets huddle together, staring out at the dock, frowning at the weather. He never understood why he had once had the thirst for action, for war. The general had accompanied him, but while he was training she would be in meetings all day. She had told him to not wait, looking wistfully out the window at the constant storm.

Why? It always rained. There would be plenty waiting for her when she was done.

But he understood some things now- not everything, but some things.

The rain whispered a story, a memory as it drummed faithfully, dripping off the waiting floor for the clones and Wolffe to spar on.

“How do you understand the force?” Wolffe had asked the jedi, softly, as they watched the rain increase. It was now a wet grey haze, distorting the landscape. "Is that what makes you..." He nodded out at the rain. "Go sit?"

She glanced back at him and smiled, rain still cloning to her hair, her eyelashes, her very soul.

Wolffe lowered his helmet, wordlessly, and moved out into the rain. It was sudden, abrupt, wild- it hurt his cheeks when he tilted his head back. Loud enough to where he couldn't hear the cadets calling to him, telling him to return to the shelter. The rain was cold, harsh, soaking into his body glove.

Her smile had been bright, wide, and it was almost like it had not rained at all, ever. "When you understand the force, you understand life. And vice versa."

Wolffe gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, trying. Focusing. Tuning in to the rain sputtering around him.

"I don't get the force."

She shrugged. "That's alright. You may never get it." The silence was filled with the lightening fall of precipitation, a steady heartbeat of nature, throbbing and echoing all around him. She had nudged him, gently, with her elbow, and grinned. "Then understand me. That's one step closer."

He had told himself he was only courious because of how General Plo Koon was, how he utilized it. He told himself life of a Jedi was mysterious and had many questions. He told himself he wanted answers to questions he had his whole life. In truth he wanted to know her. The Jedi in the rain. The Jedi who glided through water. The Jedi who could move so fluidly that he sometimes thought she herself was a river, a force of nature.

Steady. Strong. It was rough sometimes, tremulous, but other times gentle and silent. Peace.

A rhythm in the rain picked up around him. Nothing else mattered, aside from the cleansing beat of steady rain on his war wrought skin.

Understand me, she had said.

He tilted his head back more, laughing gently, the clouds grey and dark but no longer oppressive. Maybe he didn't fully understand- kark, perhaps he never would- but he was one step closer.

Beyond the deck, beyond baffled cadets, and above, a jedi- a woman, really- watched him.

#wolffe #commaner wolffe x reader #commander wolffe #wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #minty writes #clones #clone wars reader inserts #star wars reader inserts

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wolffe-simp · 3 years

Text

A Clones Padawan (18+)

Another 3am piece of work

Pairing: Reader x Wolffe

Warnings: Smut, established relationship, creeping around, marking, Dom!Wolffe, V in P, unprotected, Wolffe wanting to be a baby maker, Jealous!Wolffe

Wolffe can't control himself when someone tries to flirt with his Padawan.

The music seeped into the body of the female as she danced to the beat, her very being trembling with the vibration of the speakers. While her skills for graceful movements were usually used in lightsaber training with her master and other Jedi, (Y/N) enjoyed the rare moments where she got to dance and let go, to be herself in one single moment.

After many weeks spent on the battlefield, the Padawan of Plo Koon just wanted to enjoy a night out with her clones. Sinker and Boost had "persuaded" her to tag along, telling her that the whole squad, including Commander Wolffe were going to be there. The thought of her Commander, her secret clone boyfriend, giving into the pestering of his brothers had made her giggle to herself, telling her friends that she would see them later on. Moments of self enjoyment were rare but getting to spend time with her Commander were even rarer. She had spent the rest of the day picking out the perfect outfit, fixing her hair and applying the right amount of make up to try and drive Wolffe mad.

Her mission to tease her Commander was what had led her to the dance floor, moving her hips to the beat. She threw her hair over her shoulder, sparing a glance to the table where the Wolfpack usually occupied. Most of the lads were locked in conversations with clones from other squads that had decided to join them. Yet he sat there, eyes transfixed on her figure, fingers tightening around the glass in his hand, imagining her body beneath the dress that hugged her features. She made eye contact with Wolffe, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue as she threw him a wink. She watched his jaw tighten, trying to keep himself composed, not wanting his brothers to take notice of his slowly crumbling composure. There was nothing in this galaxy as beautiful as her, the second his general had introduced her to the pack, he had been transfixed by her sheer beauty. A goddess that had somehow fallen as deeply in love with him as he had with her, the fact that only he got to hold her, please her, made flames of arousal spread through his veins.

The music changed to a low song, causing her to let out a small breathless laugh. She moved away from the dance floor, heading to the bar to order herself a drink before she returned to her squadron. As she leaned against the bar, the air rippled around her, the force alerting her of the presence that appeared by her side. Slowly, she turned her head to face the person, raising a thin eyebrow at the man in the seat next to her. He wasn't a clone, that was for sure, from what she could see, he was a green, plump male of a race unknown to her and looking her up and down with dark beady eyes.

"Hello beautiful, can I buy you a drink?" He tried to purr at her, the words only coming out as slurred syllables.

"No thank you, I can buy my own," She replied as the bartender brought her, her drink.

She picked it up, moving to make a quick get away when the man suddenly took her by the wrist, jerking her in his direction. She leaned away in disgust as he leaned towards her, his breath stinking of both alcohol and rotten fish.

"Just one, little drink." He insisted.

"I said no, now release me." She snapped in return.

Before he could say anymore, the man was suddenly ripped away from her and slammed against the side of the bar. Wolffe practically growled and he held the man by his shirt, eyes alight with pure, burning fury.

"She said no, take the hint or you'll be swallowing your teeth." Wolffe snarled lowly. "Do. You. Understand. Me?"

The man was whimpering in the presence of the clone commander, intimidated by the sheer anger radiating from him. He couldn't find his voice, so nodded quickly, letting Wolffe know that he more that understood what would happen if he bothered you again. Wolffe slammed him into the bar again for one final measure before letting him go, watching the man stumble into the small crowds of clones scattered around. A few had seen the transaction and glowered at the man, while a few others came to the aid of their vod and led the man outside, likely to follow through with Wolffe's threat or to intimidate the man enough to ensure he never came back.

Wolffe was still shaking with rage, his hand clenching and unclenching by his sides. (Y/N) reached out a hand to rest on his arm but he recoiled from the touch and stormed outside. Worried that she had done something wrong or that he was going to get himself in trouble, the Padawan put her drink down and raced after him, wanting to make sure he was okay. She followed him a few blocks away from the club before he stopped, allowing her to catch up with him, his back still turned to her. Once she finally reached him, he suddenly grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the closest alley, pinning her to a wall.

"Wolf-"

His name barely left her lips before her was silencing her with his mouth, hot and heavy. She whined softly into the kiss, eyes fluttering close as her hands fisted into the material of his shirt, pulling him closer. The kiss was rough and intoxicating, arousal sparking in the pit of (Y/N)'s stomach. They were lost in each other, both we desperate to have the other, especially after not being able to alone for so long. But after her display and the audacity of that drunkard trying to take what belongs to the commander, the dam finally broke, their self control giving way to the need to feel the others body against their own. After a moment, Wolffe pulled away, dark eyes taking in the red, kiss swollen lips of his precious Padawan. She was breathless, panting softly with parted lips, making the Commander smirk down at her. His large hands stroked down her sides, sliding down to her backside so he could lift her up, giving her a moment to wrap her legs securely around his waist.

Normally, Wolffe would want to take things slow, to show (Y/N) how much he loved her, to tease her until she was begging for him to take her. But something feral had taken over him, making him want to do nothing more than fuck his love until she was screaming his name, until she was filled to the brim with his seed. The thought of her carrying his child suddenly crept into his mind, enticing a low, rumbling growl from the depths of his chest. His lips moved to her neck, biting harshly into the skin as he pressed his body into hes, his arousal grinding against her core.

The feeling of him grinding against her made her moan wantonly, her hands reaching down to push down his pants, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside her. He groaned when he felt one of her hands slip past the waistband of his blacks, slender fingers wrapping around the hardened flesh of his manhood, stroking along his length for a few seconds before pulling him from his confinements. There was no slow burn, no teeth rotting romance, no dirty talk, no pleading, only one simple need.

She gasped, hand gripping his shoulders when she felt him push her panties to the side, giving himself access to her core. For a split second, he ran his manhood through her fold, allowing her juices to slick him up but to also give her a moment to back out. Instead, she pulled him into a seering kiss, whimpering as he slammed into her with one powerful thrust. He didn't wait for her to adjust, simply pressed her further into the wall, pulling almost all the way out before surging back into the depths of her sex.

She cried into his mouth, allowing him to swallow her noises of pleasure as he continued to slam into her, her legs tightening around his waist to draw him in more. Wolffe groaned, finger digging harshly into her hips as he took her, bruising her with the mark of his fingertips. (Y/N) pulled away from the kiss to bury her head in his neck, growing more vocal as began to thrust faster, plunging into her even harder.

He could feel her walls trying to clamp around him every time he went to pull out, felt them quiver in excitement when he brushed against them to seek out the spot that would make her scream. She was practically sobbing against him, feeling him fill her like no other, feeling the jab of his manhood against the entrance to her womb. The heat inside her was growing, building into a raging fire, growing hotter with every thrust. The alley echoed with the sound of skin slapping against the skin, the sinful voices of their pleasure bouncing off the walls and fading into the night. Both could feel themselves growing closer to their releases, it had been so long since they had done this that it was almost impossible for them to hold on for much longer. (Y/N) could feel the falter of Wolffe's hips, his movements becoming erratic. Wolffe slipped a hand between them, fingers circling her clit and making her keen. He toyed with the bundle of nerves, feeling her tighten around him like a vice, making it harder for him to push deeper into her. She felt his lips on her neck, feeling his teeth sink into her tender flesh, the pain and the pleasure making her cry out as the fire inside her erupted. Her insides quivered around him as he continued to fuck into her, riding her through her climax until he buried himself as deep inside her as possible, spilling his seed into her awaiting womb.

They stood there, panting softly as they basked in each others presence and the aftermath of their releases. (Y/N) left soft kisses along the length of his neck whole Wolffe ran his hands soothingly up and down her sides.

"I should try and make you jealous more often if this is what happens." She mumbled into his skin.

Wolffe chuckled softly, turning his head to place a gently kiss against the side of her head.

"I'll just have to start punishing you Mesh'la."

His words made her moan at the image of being punished, not realising how enticing the idea sounded until now.

Wolffe pulled out of her, setting her down gently before tucking himself back into his pants. They made themselves look more presentable before leaving the alleyway, making their way back towards the barracks and the Jedi Temple, both feeling more relaxed.

"You know I love you right?" (Y/N) suddenly blurted out, the scene of the creepy guy playing on her mind.

"Yeah, I know and I love you too."

#commander wolffe #clone wars #cloneshipping #star wars #smut #reader insert #wolffe x reader

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swbumblebee · 3 years

Text

What if Qui-Gon Jinn was not particularly special in his post-mortem abilities?

AKA “Old Ben” and his many Force parents.

They had all watched, their collective Force aura swamped in sadness, grief and longing, as Qui-Gon finally introduced himself to Obi-Wan.

They’d never call him ‘Old Ben’. The fact that he was only 40 years old notwithstanding, this was the boy they’d raised, grown up with, idolised. They remembered him toddling about the gardens, fascinated by the brightly coloured flowers; Getting shy around pretty people and developing awkward crushes. They remembered him standing alone at the head of an army, quietly confident and immeasurably capable. They had vivid memories of him carrying them back to the creche, so steady and strong; of his measured wisdom, and the confidence that Obi-Wan Kenobi would always triumph.

They remembered the mullet.

Nobody named “Old Ben” ever had a mullet.

The man they now, as they always had really, looked to for a light when everything else went dark.

They didn’t catch the murmured words. They were Jedi after all, (even if they were now technically one big Jedi rather than a temple full of Jedi) and eavesdropping was rude. Nobody listened to the sulky mutterings of the presence that was Quinlan Vos.

Their boy was nodding, sitting quietly on the floor whilst he finally, finally after weeks of careful and gentle persuasion, of them all keeping a tight rein on the order’s maverick (“Do not, we repeat do not, come out of the water tank. You’ll give him a cardiac arrest or something”) believed in the presence he saw before him.

They watched once more, pleased, as their missing piece allowed himself to be bullied to his feet, and guided over to the pile of blankets he called a bed.

They could feel Qui-Gon’s bitter relief as he perched next to his former student, his longing to pull the blankets up around his boy and smooth back his hair.

But words were all they had.

Still, as Obi-Wan Kenobi had shown the Galaxy; you could do a lot with words.

---

They’d argued (as much as an incorporeal fusion of spirits could argue) at length over who got to go next.

“I knew him longest, he’ll trust me!”

“He needs someone calm, measured. I will go”

“No offence Master Plo but you’ll make him cry. He needs cheering up, I’ll go!”

“Vos so help me Force-“

“I was the Master of the Order, I should do it”

“Master, we’re dead. I’m not sure seniority applies.”

In the end it was narrowed down to two options; Bant Erin, Obi-Wan’s oldest friend. Sweet natured and kind, she would be the perfect choice.

And Mace Windu.

It turns out seniority does still apply beyond the grave.

---

A small part of Obi-Wan’s subconscious was telling him that it was starting to get a bit awkward.

The transparent blue form of Mace Windu was looking down at him, the welcoming smile quickly turning into a grimace.

“…Obi-Wan?”

No. no no no this was not happening. He didn’t have time to go round the bend he had a child to protect!

He wasn’t sure if it was reasonable to measure sanity on the volume of dead loved ones he was hallucinating, but somehow one seemed saner than two.

Though it turns out he’s insane, and so not a good barometer of these things.

He knew his stare was starting to get very unnerving as his hysterical inner-ramblings reached a fever pitch.

“…Obi-Wan, are you alright?” Imaginary Mace Windu asked, concern and a tiny bit of nervousness showing on his face.

“I’m fine, how are you?” Obi-Wan asked, remembering a solid piece of advice from his formative years; Always fall back upon good manners when in unfamiliar territory Padawan mine.

Well, this was about as unfamiliar as it got.

Imaginary Mace looked at him, utterly baffled for a moment.

“Well…I’m dead, I suppose, is how I am” he answered awkwardly.

“Right. Obviously.” Obi-Wan nodded politely. “My condolences”

There was another awkward silence.

Imaginary Mace tilted his head for a moment, listening for something.

“Well…here I am” he said, spreading his arms a little.

“…yes.”

The other Jedi frowned at Obi-Wan’s strained reply and his act of scrubbing his hands down his face as if to wipe away the image in front of him.

“Qui-Gon didn’t…didn’t mention we were coming?” he asked tentatively.

Obi-Wan shook his head, wordlessly.

The frown on Imaginary Mace turned into a complete scowl as the pieces seemed to fall into place.

“JINN” he bellowed, and Obi-Wan felt it echo in the Force like nothing before.

“He can’t hear you, he’s with Yoda”

Another figure popped into existence next to Mace, and Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes once again as Depa Billaba bowed to him.

“Obi-Wan” she greeted with a grin.

“…hi” He took a deep breath, mentally cursing his absent-minded Master.

“Are you alright?” Depa didn’t stop for a reply as she looked down with him and gestured at him, gently instructing him to get up from the floor. “Oh look you’ve scraped your knee there! Master I knew you’d startle him!” she scolded her former Master.

It felt like he was having an out of body experience as Depa ushered him into a chair (the only chair in the hut), Mace looking on anxiously.

“There we go” Depa soothed as she got him settled “I wish we could make you some tea my friend.” She said disappointedly.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

“You ah…you can’t?” he asked, something permeating the haze. Of this whole situation, that seemed by far the most unfair thing.

Mace smiled encouragingly, seemingly happier to be on more binary ground.

“I’m afraid not, we are beings of the Force, like your Master.” He explained, before scowling again. “Who, I would kill if he weren’t already dead,” he growled.

“I’m so sorry Obi-Wan” Depa said, dismayed “We all wanted to come and be with you, but we though Qui-Gon might be best to start with, so as not to overwhelm you”

“Sorry about that” Mace said apologetically.

They sat in silence a moment, Depa and Mace watching him process.

For the first time ever, Obi-Wan had exactly zero thoughts in his head.

He was starting to feel the pressure.

“All?” he tried.

Depa and Mace looked at each other.

“You ah…you said ‘all wanted to come’” he clarified.

Depa nodded happily.

“Yes yes, we’re all there Obi-Wan” she smiled at him

“Any Jedi slain by a Sith, or the machinations of the Sith, is there” Mace explained.

Obi-Wan was having the slightest bit of trouble taking deep breaths. Neither of his companions seemed to have noticed.

“Where?” he asked, only mildly aware that his voice was getting just a little pitchy.

“In the Force, we’re all one in the Force” Depa started again, and then paused a little lost for words.

“We’re all together and we kind of…share our presences” Mace picked up, with difficulty “Everyone who was killed by Palpatine’s evil, everyone from us right down to the littlest initiate, we share one consciousness in the Force.”

Obi-Wan was none the wiser.

Mace waved a hand frustratedly.

“Sorry, Plo explains it better”

“Plo?” Obi-Wan loved Master Plo. He loved all of them. And they were gone.

“Hello Obi-Wan”

“Well, if Plo and Depa get to see him I’m bloody well here too!”

“Hi Obi”

“Obes!”

He could only watch, speechless, as the faces of old friends, comrades, mentors and carers crammed into his hut, all looking at him with unadulterated, unfiltered pleasure and love was the last thing he saw before his scrambled brain decided it’d had enough, and he knew nothing but darkness.

---

It turns out, living with the forms of all your dead teachers, carers and friends was actually rather trying, after a while.

“Oh thank goodness you’re not still drinking that awful caff”

“I like caff – Master Plo please don’t try and lift that”

“Relax Obi dear, we’re incorporeal”

“Can still see things though”

“Vos get out of my fresher!”

“What does this do?”

“Never you mind. No don’t – Ugh. Why don’t some nice, well behaved padawans ever come to see me?”

“They’re not allowed, only those who knew you personally can visit. We thought it might get a bit stressful otherwise.”

“…I can’t imagine.”

Aside from having to adapt his busy routine to accommodate half a dozen fidgety and curious…ghosts (?) poking around his small hut at any one time, another unexpected addition to his (attempted) isolation on Tatooine was the nagging. And Force could they nag! The concentrated worry of many, many, beings with nowhere else to direct their extra energies was powerful.

“Obi-Wan you haven’t drank enough today. Go and check the vaporators”

“Padawan aren’t you going to eat?”

“Listen, that plie of cloth can’t be good for your spine”

“Force! Get some sun block Kenobi or you’re going to look like an old shoe in three months”

“No right, I saw a sunhat he can buy at the market”

It was…weird. He’d always been very self-sufficient, not to mention being the centre of everyone’s attention was difficult, to say the least. But as the months went on, he found himself transitioning from awkward acquiescence to see-sawing between mulishness and good-natured obedience. The stubbornness rising usually when the despair did. But those days were few and far between.

And now, when they did occur (for one can only avoid one’s demons for so long) and he felt like he was drowning in the weight of existence, he could rely on his friends for encouragement, care, and the motivation to carry on.

“If you join us before your time I will KILL you Obi-Wan Kenobi. Now kriffing well eat something!”

---

Of course, when their brother, friend, son, comrade, teacher and last hope did at last join them, there was no nagging or disappointment (or violence). The ultimate Jedi was back in the fold and they were once again complete.

#And they're fussing #Obi-Wan Kenobi #mace windu #I See Dead Jedi #depa billaba #jedi order #fluff?#snippet of nothing

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the-last-kenobi · 3 years

Note

Hi, how are you? Hope all is well) Can you please write "Where have you been" with Anakin and a very very depressed and sad Obi?

Of course!

From this various prompts list.

I admit I wasn’t sure exactly which angle you were hoping for, but this is the one my brain liked, so here we are.

Anakin’s hand shook slightly as he ran the cloth over the glass mug, turning it in his hands. Water beaded up in the wake of his first attempt, so he went back again a little slower, making sure he left no smudges behind. Then he carefully placed it in the cabinet where it belonged, each shelf lined with different mugs, most of them glass, a few of them seemingly random — porcelain, wood, something that looked like clay, a deep red crystalline substance.

Anakin knew that the ones that weren’t glass had all, once, belonged to Qui-Gon.

They were used rarely. Carefully. Cherished like treasures.

The rest, the glass, those were Obi-Wan’s.

He liked the perfection of glass, its transparency, the way he could watch the teas he brewed and steeped changing, colors swirling and fading beneath his fingers.

Anakin found them difficult to maintain and hard to clean.

His hand shook again, and he quickly put down the towel and set aside the next mug, turning away from the still untidy kitchen.

His gloved metal hand raked through his hair.

It was late.

It was very late.

He walked to the window and brushed aside the curtain with one hand, confronted first with his own ghostly reflection, and then focusing on the view outside. It was pouring down rain. A rare enough occurrence here on Coruscant, and tonight, of all nights, when Obi-Wan could be out there.

He could be anywhere.

Anakin didn’t know.

Obi-Wan had been missing for twenty-nine hours.

He had walked out of their shared quarters while Anakin was visiting Padmé, sometime in the early evening yesterday, leaving his cloak behind, leaving his lightsaber behind.

And then he was gone.

Anakin had searched all the usual places. He’d reached out to Dex, and alerted Mace Windu and Healer Che, and sent Ahsoka to check with the crèche and Initiates dorm in case he was there playing with and teaching the little ones. He’d contacted Bail and Padmé, and gained permission after the twelve hour mark to examine the security holos.

There was nothing.

It was as if Obi-Wan Kenobi had stepped over the threshold of their door and just fallen out of existence.

Anakin watched rain lash against the window, scattering his pale reflection into twisted fragments, and tried to remind himself that he had already been searching for twenty-five hours straight. That he hadn’t slept or eaten. That Master Koon had forbidden him from going out into the storm to search, when they already had rested and armored troopers doing a steady sweep of the Temple perimeter, even when they didn’t know if Obi-Wan had actually left the grounds.

The Temple was massive.

He could be hiding in an unused wing, or in the depths of the dustiest levels, or in the back of the Archives, or the towers.

No, not the Archives. Master Nu had already searched there and that woman would never miss so much as a hair out of place in her domain, much less a High Councilor.

Anakin had heard Master Mundi making noises about a possible trap or an abduction.

And while that was bad — nightmarish — to contemplate, Anakin had his own fears, and they felt much more realistic, much too close for comfort.

Anakin flung himself down on the sofa with his head in his hands and tried not to admit that he was frightened.

He had seen Obi-Wan like this before. Back when they were a new partnership and Qui-Gon was dead but there was still so much of him living in the Temple, like the mugs, one still the on the countertop with a faint imprint of his lips staining the rim, or his spare cloaks and boots, and the trinkets and potted plants that filled every available space. And Obi-Wan had...

Well. Whenever he thought Anakin wasn’t paying attention, he was so quiet. He barely slept for days and then slept too much. He hardly ate and then ate random things at random times. He hardly smiled.

He wandered off.

Alone.

The worst time had been when Anakin was six months in to his apprenticeship. He had woken up with a terribly bad feeling to find his Master missing from his bed, and with the unerring instinct of a worried child, he had shot off in search of Master Yoda, who had quietly raised the alarm amongst the older Masters. It was Master Windu who had found Obi-Wan, quiet and shrunken and apathetic, concealed in one of the many gardens, letting the life of the garden conceal his dimming force signature from view.

Anakin had clung to him like he was about to disappear, and Obi-Wan hadn’t seemed to really process that he was there...

Eventually he had pulled out of it. Anakin didn’t know how.

But this...

Anakin had been worried since Geonosis that he would lose his Master to death on the battlefield. Then there had been Ventress and Jabiim and Grievous and Dooku and Maul — Maul — and suddenly it felt like Obi-Wan was never safe. The war and his enemies chased him everywhere.

But Obi-Wan had lost friends and peers and younglings he had once taught or cradled in his arms when they were so very small, and his Master’s murderer had come back like a resurrected demon to plague him, to threaten his life and sanity and everyone he loved — and Satine had already paid with her life.

Others might.

And when Anakin had come racing back home from 500 Republica when he’d heard the news, it was already too late, and Obi-Wan had gone off all alone stars knew where.

That was enough.

Anakin leapt to his feet, his body trembling with fear and nausea, determined to ignore orders.

Damn their kindness and responsibility, damn the fact that he’d probably only get soaked and miserable, he was going out searching again.

Anakin strode towards the door on shaking legs.

It swung open before he neared it, and there was Obi-Wan.

Anakin gaped at him.

Obi-Wan stared blankly back. “...Anakin?”

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin breathed, staring at him, taking him in. He was without his cloak and lightsaber, as he had known he would be, and was soaking wet — completely sopping, as if he had swum in a lake rather than wandered about in a rainstorm.

“Obi-Wan,” he said again, his voice strained. “Where have you been?”

His Master continued to look blank. “I went out.”

“You went out? You’ve been gone for well over a day!” Anakin cried out. “Where have you been?”

Obi-Wan shrank away from the shouting. His blue eyes flickered around the room as if looking for an answer, or perhaps an escape, and still his expression was utterly detached. “I... I don’t know, really. Here and there.”

A pause.

“Was I really gone for so long?” he asked. He sounded distantly, disinterestedly bewildered, and Anakin broke.

“Yes!” he shouted, his face screwed up in anger, in an attempt to hold back childish tears. “Yes you have! You disappeared! There are people looking for you, and the Council was worried you’d been taken, and I was so— I was — so — I— you can’t do that to me, Obi-Wan, please, I was losing my mind!”

Obi-Wan’s blank expression finally shifted.

A look of confusion and worry built behind the vague blue eyes, and Anakin launched himself at his friend like he had all those years ago, locking his limbs around him in a fierce hug.

For a long moment it was like hugging a statue. A very cold, very wet statue that shivered ever so slightly.

But Anakin held on, determined to keep Obi-Wan right here, to keep him safe and warm, to make him understand that he was needed, that he could also rest, that it would all be okay if he just stayed. Stayed like he had before. His tunics began to absorb some of the icy moisture coming off his Master but he kept holding on, his face buried in Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

And slowly, Obi-Wan came to life.

His hands inched upwards to rest against his Padawan’s back, and he tilted his head so that he was leaning against Anakin’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice muffled. “I had no idea you’d be so concerned.”

“I wasn’t concerned, you absolute idiot, I was scared,” Anakin hissed, the confession both bitter and relieving on his lips. “How would you feel if I vanished with no word? For thirty hours?”

A long silence.

“Well,” Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, “I would be impressed with Padmé for not getting bored of you long before that.”

There was a dead silence.

Then a spluttered, incredulous laugh, and it took Anakin a moment to realize it was he who was laughing. His shoulders shook with it, with shock at the revelation of what Obi-Wan knew, that he wasn’t angry about it, that he was cracking stupid, mean, dumb jokes about it when Anakin was trying to be mad at him.

Obi-Wan chuckled quietly, and Anakin laughed harder, delighted that his friend was smiling, if only a little.

“You’re not off the hook you know,” he mumbled, guiding Obi-Wan to his rooms, planning on forcing him to take a hot shower and drink warm tea and maybe pull out one of Qui-Gon’s old cloaks, because that always helped.

“Neither are you,” Obi-Wan mumbled back, and squeezed his hand every so briefly.

When Plo Koon dropped by to check on Anakin, very early the next morning, he found him sleeping soundly on a chair, snoring quietly, his feet propped on the arm of the sofa, where Obi-Wan was fast asleep with an old cloak that was far too large for him draped over his body.

It was easy to forgive them to forgetting to inform the Guard to call off the search.

Mace could pretend to yell at them during their next Council meeting, during which, he was sure, the two friends would stand side by side, mischief in their eyes.

#star wars fic #my writing #prompt fill #star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #obi wan and anakin #qui gon jinn #master & padawan #more hugs needed #tw depression #tw disassociation #angst and fluff #everyone loves obi wan #literally everyone #mace pretends to be cranky with them but mostly he’s just #amused #and tired

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