Liz (amidala_thrace) wrote,
Liz
amidala_thrace

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Out of Bounds

Title: Out of Bounds
Fandom: Star Wars
Written For: fanfic50
Prompt: #001 Spiral
Characters: Obi-Wan, Padmé, Anakin
Word Count: 1,656
Rating: NC-17 for sexual scenes
Summary: Obi-Wan dreams of what cannot ever be.
Author’s Notes: I will make a disclaimer right up front here. I am not, repeat NOT, a fan of songfics. I find them almost lazy on the part of the author, like he/she couldn’t seem to get up enough inspiration without borrowing from others. I’ve maintained this belief throughout my fanfic writing career. But, like the old cliché goes, rules are made to be broken. Here is my first songfic. It’s based on the song Out of Bounds, by Amanda Marshall, which I thought was extremely fitting for Obidala and whose lyrics I will include after the fic. I wrote this in bed, at 3:00 a.m. this morning, waking up abruptly in the middle of the night after having been struck by inspiration. Thank goodness for laptops. Also, I must include a credit to agentjedi for the idea of Obi-Wan inhabiting Anakin’s body during sex. Much thanks!




Standing on the edge of time
Playing out a reckless pantomime
And every day’s another wrong to rectify
I dream about a stranger’s touch
And voices in my head, I cannot hush
And every night’s a hunger I can’t satisfy



Anakin kept a picture of her on his night table. When his former apprentice wasn’t in their quarters, Obi-Wan would move stealthily into his room, pluck the photograph off of the table, and take it into his own room. He would lie on his bed, pushing his tunics down, kicking them off.

He was a Jedi. He was not supposed to feel love, or attachment. His duty prevented that. And really, he was too busy, too preoccupied, to think of a relationship now. But still, his mind whispered to him, and his body enticed him, to take the photograph. To look at Padmé’s sweet face, her brown eyes turned seductively towards the camera.

The picture had been taken at sunset, so that a pink and orange glow illuminated her face. She looked happy, excited, radiant almost. She wore a white negligee, her breasts billowing out from her chest, almost crying out to be stroked, to be nibbled, to be loved.

Obi-Wan would push off his tunics, and he would look at the picture, and he would pleasure himself.


It’s the secret that I keep
It’s the ache that makes me weep
And I know I’m in too deep –
I’m gonna drown
It’s the emptiness I fear
Baby, please don’t leave me here
Cause I’m lost inside a dream
That’s out of bounds



But it was more than a physical attraction he felt for her. Obi-Wan admired Padmé for her strength of will, her abilities in the field of politics – despite the fact that ordinarily he detested politicians. Padmé was different. He loved her. He knew he shouldn’t, knew it went against everything the Jedi believed in and everything he personally believed in. Love is not logical. He tried to remind himself of that, but somehow that didn’t ease his guilt.

It didn’t ease the pictures that floated through his mind whenever he thought of that photograph. He could imagine the circumstances in which it had been taken. Obi-Wan knew about the closeness Padmé and Anakin shared. It was not difficult for him to put two and two together, understand that the meditation chambers were not where Anakin claimed to be going every evening. Yet Obi-Wan never commented on the picture, nor on the circumstances. He wanted to live vicariously through Anakin.

His secret, his dream, the one that he kept locked within the deepest recesses of his heart, did not feature Anakin at all. Obi-Wan wanted to be with Padmé, really be with her, wake up next to her every morning and kiss her and make love to her. Never leave her. These feelings were dangerous, yes. But he could not govern them; could not control them.


I close my eyes and it’s so real
And all at once, I know just what I feel
And baby, it’s the kind of rush
That terrifies
But I am weak
I am wrong
And every day I swear that I’ll be strong
But there’s a bond between us
That I can’t deny



They had flirted when they first met. He was twenty-five, she fourteen, and so he had considered it highly inappropriate. He had also believed what they shared was a simple crush, born out of proximity and hormones. But after the celebration, when Obi-Wan could not be cheerful, when he could not think of anything but his Master who had died so heroically, she had come to him. Padmé had come to him and, incredibly, thanked him. Thanked him for sacrificing Qui-Gon so that Naboo could be saved and the greater good could be served.

And he had slipped into her arms, and buried his face in her chest, and truly cried for the first time since he had seen that lightsaber pierce Qui-Gon’s heart. Obi-Wan had not wanted to do so with Anakin by his side – he was supposed to be the responsible, stoic role model, after all – but with Padmé, he felt secure. And she comforted him, as only she could have.

As a result, he did not forget her as he might otherwise have done. Instead, Padmé was a beacon of light as he went through the difficult years of training Anakin. Obi-Wan didn’t speak to her directly until ten years later, though, when he and Anakin were assigned to protect her after an assassination attempt. It was then that his love for her had blazed red-hot. His adherence to the Jedi Code prevented him from acting, however, and the day he realized Anakin had seized the opportunity and married Padme was among the worst of his life.

So he lived out his love for her in secret, at night, with the photograph. They had a friendship, certainly. And often when they met they would finish each other’s sentences. Was it his imagination or did Padmé always seem … happier when Obi-Wan was around? The rush of feelings her smile gave him would disarm him, completely, and he would have to frantically work to release arousal so as to appear decent.

Lately, ever since the photograph had appeared on Anakin’s bedside table, Obi-Wan had found his resolve weakening. Several times he found himself with his comlink in hand, on the point of tapping out her number. He wanted to write her a letter, wanted to take out a billboard, wanted to express his feelings for her without anyone else knowing. His logical mind warned him against such actions, but he was teetering closer to the brink of contacting her.

And now, the picture every night was his form of release. Obi-Wan began to stroke himself, slowly at first, then speeding up the pace as he looked directly into Padmé’s eyes. Imagining that she was there with him, straddling him, and that it was she performing the ministrations.


It’s the secret that I keep
It’s the ache that makes me weep
And I know I’m in too deep –
I’m gonna drown
It’s the emptiness I fear
Baby, please don’t leave me here
Cause I’m lost inside a dream
That’s out of bounds



Another feeling was taking over. There was Obi-Wan’s own arousal … but there was something else, another source of arousal. He realized it was coming over the training bond. Anakin was having sex with Padmé. Obi-Wan could hear her, moaning, “Ani … oh Ani … oh Force … keep touching me … please …”

It was easy enough for Obi-Wan to slide into Anakin’s mind unnoticed, and for him to feel Padme as well, and to then experience overt surprise as he realized Padmé was not picturing Anakin as he was thrusting his member into her. She was picturing him, Obi-Wan.

“Force,” slid from between his clenched teeth and he was instantly enveloped by a far more vivid fantasy. He had replaced Anakin, he was thrusting into Padmé, that smoldering fire in her eyes was reserved for him and him only. A low, panting moan escaped him as he gave himself fully to the sensations.


I wanna surrender
I wanna give in
I wanna lay down
And let it be now
Let it begin
Let it begin.



Obi-Wan was going faster and faster, facing his pillow, he could see Padmé, see her face, hear her crying out for more. He was gentle even as he was forceful, and she was responding to him, and he knew instinctively what she liked because he had done this before, had access to all of Anakin’s thoughts and memories of what aroused his wife. Obi-Wan, as Anakin, dove down towards her neck, nibbling at the special spot that he knew would send tingles through her, and it did, and she squirmed, opening up a delightful plethora of new sensations.

He moaned, louder this time, biting down on his tongue and releasing arousal. He wouldn’t last much longer, at this rate. Padmé was so wet and slick … he could feel himself slipping in, out, in, out, and although it was Anakin doing this Obi-Wan may as well have been possessing his friend’s body, for he felt as though it were he experiencing these sensations. It was like nothing he had ever had before.

Finally, he could not stand it, and allowed himself the climax, building in a crescendo. When the wave broke upon the shore of his consciousness he drank Padmé in as a thirsty man craves liquids, as a man dying of starvation craves nourishment. In his mind, he was spilling himself into her, scattering his seeds, making the most of this opportunity. He would not notice the large mess on the bed until much later.

Obi-Wan clutched at the photograph, lying in the wet. It had been so real. And the terrible thing was – he wanted more. It had been such an amazing experience, and he was quite keen to repeat it. But there was a hurt, a pain, deep inside him. His logical mind was the source of that pain, and it was telling him that what he truly desired could never be. Even if Padmé was attracted to him, even if he appeared in her visions instead of Anakin, surely his former Padawan would not consent to Obi-Wan being with her. Anakin and Padmé were married, after all. Obi-Wan could not, would not, break that covenant. Even if he was supposed to be unaware of it.

He would keep the secret. And he would treasure the memory of what had almost been.


It’s the secret that I keep
It’s the ache that makes me weep
And I know I'm in too deep--
I’m gonna drown
It’s the emptiness I fear
Baby, please don’t be leaving me here
Cause I’m lost inside a dream
That’s out of bounds
Out of bounds
Out of bounds ...



Out of Bounds
Amanda Marshall


Standing on the edge of time
Playing out a reckless pantomine
And every day's another wrong to rectify
I dream about a stranger's touch
And voices in my head, I cannot hush
And every night's a hunger I can't satisfy

CHORUS:
It's the secret that I keep
It's the ache that makes me weep
And I know I'm in too deep --
I'm gonna drown
It's the emptiness I fear
Baby, please don't leave me here
Cause I'm lost inside a dream
That's out of bounds

I close my eyse and it's so real
And all at once, I know just what I feel
And baby, it's the kind of rush
That terrifies
But I am weak
I am wrong
And every day I swear that I'll be strong
But there's a bond between us
That I can't deny

CHORUS

I wanna surrender
I wanna give in
I wanna lay down
And let it be now
Let it begin
Let it begin.

It's the secret that I keep
It's the ache that makes me weep
And I know I'm in too deep--
I'm gonna drown
It's the emptiness I fear
Baby, please don't be leaving me here
Cause I'm lost inside a dream
That's out of bounds
Out of bounds
Out of bounds ...


Tags: fanfic50, nc17 ratings, obi-wan/padmé, star wars
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