Star Wars x Reader Inserts

extending hospitality | obi-wan kenobi | 2/3

a/n: it's been over a very long time since the first part (3 years? 4??) and you guys are still asking for a sequel (thank you so much)! Granted, my writing style has shifted some since the first part, so please take that into account if the narration sounds different in some ways. I don't know why the next couple of parts were so difficult to finish; possibly because I was worried it had been too long to continue it with a mixture of anxious perfectionism. The third part will be up within the next month. (If I didn't split it up it would probably be about 10K which is a bit much for one post, so I'm splitting it up for size and to take extra care with the last few scenes I have in mind.) <3 Also, Anakin is assumed to be young in this one a little more bluntly than in the first part, somewhere between TPM and AOTC. DO NOT REPOST MY WORK.

summary: after Obi-Wan's gentle remedies and timid confessions, you wake the next morning to face the many consequences of a poorly concluded mission—and the unexpected truths that are uncovered with them.

warnings: fluffy angst, angsty fluff, wound-related gore, infirmaries, nightmares, long-term injuries

word count: 5.9K

music: Bedroom Dreams and Aftermath and by James Newton Howard (from The Tourist OST)

The traffic of Coruscant had grown busier as the morning hours approached. When the sun had risen to peek above the horizon of the paling sky, its gleaming reflection across the spires of the metallic city sent a golden beam of glowing light through the large window of Obi-Wan's living space. His bleary eyes fluttered open as the luminous pattern of the sun's rays filtering through the slanted shades sent warm clusters of stripes along his skin.

He brushed his hand over his sleepy face, combing through his light auburn tendrils that had curled themselves in every angle imaginable during his deep slumber. He dragged his fingers over his eyelids and eyebrows, rubbing the sleepy dishevelment from them. When he sat up, his consciousness flooded back to him, and he remembered the vivid dreams he had experienced during the night.

He cleared his throat as images of you played themselves out in his mind just as they had hours prior in his sleep. In one of the several scenes, he remembered,  there been a sweet smell floating akin to the scent of fresh pastries drifting in from a warmly lit home somewhere behind him, the tint of the moons against your bare shoulders, the brush of your lips against his, and a pair of twins running between his legs (that had oddly resembled Anakin in some subconsciously implied way). There were other tender visions he had seen in his slumber, but they blurred out of tangible recollection by the second. It had been a myriad across a lifetime of tender, intimate moments that felt so personal they could have been memories themselves.

Except they weren't.

Obi-Wan would have distinctly remembered feeling your lips move in unison with his, and even more so the events that would have taken place in order for you to share such open displays of affection; the processes, the decisions, the dramatic change of lifestyles. And none of those things had ever happened—nor could they.

He hadn't shared a kiss with anyone in his entire life, so the sensation was entirely foreign to him. And yet, the touch he shared with you in his dreams felt all too real, as if he knew exactly how it should taste and feel. It was a vow shared between companions and soulmates, an exchange of intimate touch from the place where your voice, words, and matters of the soul itself often poured. But most obviously, it was a physical display of attachment, one he had indirectly vowed never to partake of.

He felt himself grow a vibrant shade of red as he recalled the kiss with an eruption of fluttering in his stomach. He tried to banish the delusion from his thoughts by rubbing his eyes once more.