#Ewan McGregor x Reader

[zz0mbi3]

𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒉

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒐𝒃𝒊-𝒘𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒋𝒆𝒅𝒊 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔. 𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒐𝒃𝒊-𝒘𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑫

Obi-Wan never wanted to find you pretty.

Obi-Wan never wanted to think of you as someone more than a mere mission. He never wanted to think of you as someone more than a political figure.

Yet, Obi-Wan wanted to think of you as someone just for him. 

The Jedi were strict on their rules. No falling in love. No connections other than the one to the Force and the duty they were pushed into from birth. 

Obi-Wan tried to remind himself of this, he forced himself to see reason, but reason didn’t agree with him. Reason argued.

'Is it truly so wrong to love someone? Is it truly so wrong to have connections? That was the danger of it, wasn’t it? That’s what the Jedi were keeping me from, falling in love?'

But Obi-Wan couldn’t help it.

Even as he stood at the doors of your throne room, he was reminded of how he was just a young boy, and you were just a young queen.

This distant planet he had found himself on, this vessel of new life he had never been acquainted with before, blessed by the paradise of your company. 

His fingers rested on the hilt of his saber, the metal warm from his skin. He kept his eyes on the ground beneath his boots. He was sure Qui-Gon would be back soon to excuse him for the night…but Obi-Wan didn’t want to leave. Not when you were sitting so peacefully in the throne room, someone for him to adore.

He lifted his blue eyes from the floor to once again look at you, his movements urged by helpless desire. 

You were a sight. He swore it on the grounds of his oath, he had never laid eyes on a beauty like you.

You were so mundane, just sitting on your throne, your legs crossed beneath your stunning silver gown. The fabric draped itself down the seat, the white of the tiles shimmering with the reflection of the fabric. It was as if you were swimming in a sea of glitter, and it brought out the lively shine in your eyes. 

His eyes raked over you, how your hair was pulled into a dramatic hairstyle, fitting around the crown on your head. His eyes lit at the moonlight dancing off your skin, a sight he had gotten used to when he realized that the sun never rose on your planet. 

When you turned your gaze away from the window, meeting his, he lowered his head again. His face turned bright red, burning with the shame of his disrespect to the Force and the fear that you would hate him for shamelessly staring. 

His chest nearly exploded when he heard you laugh softly instead. What a beautiful sound to him. He had always enjoyed soft sounds, ones that could war against the clashing of sabers during the war, the shooting of blasters that kept his thoughts occupied so often her barely rested. He could rest on the sound of your joy.

“You don’t need to keep your head bent like that, you know?” Your voice slightly echoed across the nearly empty room. “Unless you want to hurt yourself.”

He exhaled a laugh through his nose, his lips curled up in a smile. He brushed the padawan braid out of his face as he straightened up, still unable to meet your gaze.

“Perhaps I was trying to,” he jests, shrugging his shoulders as if he wasn't sure. “Maybe I wanted to try something new.”

Once again the soft sound of your laugh ran through his ears and straight to his already racing heart. He smiled softly without trying to fight it.

“Perhaps you were…” You stood up in your seat, the skirt of your gown straightening with your legs, still flowing around you like a sea of stars. 

The closer you stepped to him, the more antsy he got. There may have been a chance that you were just preparing to leave the room. Though he wasn’t used to telling time on this planet, especially with the lack of sunlight, he was sure it was usually around the time you would retire for the night.

Instead, you walked over to the table at the side of the room, carefully pouring him a glass of Dorian Quill. 

His breath hitched when you held the cup out for him. 

“I shouldn’t-” He started, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, sweating. “I’m still on duty.”

You looked over at him with a calming smile, your head tilted to the side as if to ask if he truly believed that mattered to you. “One small drink won’t hurt you. Besides, I’m about to retire for the night. You won’t be on duty much longer.”

He wanted to be firm and insistent with you. He wanted to tell you no. But he didn’t. He walked over to you and took the glass from your hand, brushing his skin against the silver glove on your hand. 

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he smiled at you and bowed his head in respect, taking a careful sip of the alcoholic drink. 

“Oh, please, none of that,” you waved your covered hand at him in dismissal, sipping from a cup you poured for yourself. Somehow he had missed that. “No need to be so respectful, we’re equals.”

He coughed on his drink, swiftly swallowing the burning liquid down his throat. His eyes watered a bit, and he was reminded then that he had never drank before.

Qui-Gon would laugh at him, surely. 

“I beg to differ…” his voice comes out amongst wheezes. He tried to maintain composure, eager to not embarrass himself in your presence.

He was sure doing so would make him drive his own saber through his chest to save him from the pain of your judgment.

“I am the one guarding you, not the other way around.”

You simply hummed in response, and his heart spiked at the thought that he had offended you somehow. However, when your lips quirked into a grin once again, he calmed down once again. 

“I wasn’t the one who called for that order,” you shook your head at the thought. “I don’t need protection. Everyone else likes to think so. It’s idiotic. A true waste of Jedi talent to have them stand at attention all day and wait for the near-impossible chance someone wants to kill me."

He merely nodded. He wasn’t sure what to think. Maybe you didn’t want him there with you, maybe you wished he would leave. Perhaps his presence was making you feel as if no one trusted you to take care of yourself. 

'No, no, that's not true. She wouldn’t have given me a drink if you disliked his company.'

“I do, however, appreciate that they sent you.”

His face went pink with that statement. Did you appreciate him? His company?

“You flatter me, Your Gr-”

“On the contrary,” you cut him off, and he immediately shuts his mouth. He’d go quiet just to listen to you speak any day. “I’ve never met a Jedi like you. You’re so…calm, yet wise. I can look at you and see infinite knowledge behind your eyes and still feel as if you aren’t trying to best me.”

Oh, you were truly flattering him now. Building up his low ego, one he didn’t even know he wanted to be built up. Your words made a blush spread to his ears and he felt the back of his neck grow hot. He cleared his throat and placed his now-empty cup down on the table. 

“I am simply just well-trained,” he insisted, looking into your eyes. He tried to hide how difficult it was to pull his gaze away from you. It was as if you were a gravity pull that wouldn’t let go of him. “Truly, I owe everything to the other Jedi around me.”

“And so humble,” you praised. “I did get lucky when they gave me you.”

His heartbeat sped up once again.

You thought you were lucky to have him. You, the young Queen of a distant planet, thought you were lucky to have a lowly Padawan there to watch you.

He could almost hear the Jedi scolding him for his delight at that.

He was starting to not care about them.

“Well, I-” he stumbled on his words, absolutely flustered. “I’m not-”

You continued to smile at him, a sight that would occupy his dreams for days to follow. “You are. You’re not proud, you’re happy where you are. You don’t want more from your title…”

The words of praise from you were just stacking up in his mind, he was so overly happy that you were so observant of him, that you genuinely cared that he was there. 

Unfortunately, his heart sank in disappointment when your handmaiden stuck her head into the room, calling you to your chambers to prepare for bed. He lowered his gaze back to the floor, tapping his foot against the tile. 

“Your Grace-”

He was cut off when your lips pressed against his cheek, your gloved hand pressing against his opposite cheek to hold him steady. Your thumb brushed against his skin for a moment, and he smiled, showing some teeth.

When you pulled back, he gazed into your eyes for a while. His own were wide in shock and awe, his heart was so close to exploding. 

“Have a good night, Obi-Wan,” you said with one last kiss to his cheek and stepped away, the heels of your shoes clicking against the tile floor. “I hope to see you at breakfast in the morning?”

He nodded meekly, in a daze. He shook it off after a moment. “Anything you wish.”

You smiled softly and bowed your head to him, and he returned the gesture, hand over his chest. 

Thank the Force Qui-Gon wasn’t there to see how red his face was at the moment.

[thesassypadawan]

Home For Life Day (Knight Obi-Wan x WifeReader)

Summary: It’s the night before Life Day and all through the house.  Not a creature was stirring, except you…whose waiting on that hopeful arrival.  (Inspired by and pairs well with *NSYNC’s Home For Christmas)

Warnings: Contains fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

Notes: Happy Life Day, lovelies! ❤️💚

riduur = wife/husband/spouse; cyar’ika = darling, sweetheart; ba’vodu = uncle; kar’tayl gar darasuum = love you

- “You can light the fire for me, darling…  I’ll be home, promise…”

- Sighing softly to yourself, you turned off the comlink.  You’d received the message in the early hours of the morning, listening to it over and over.  Feeling yourself fill with hope and excitement…anticipation.  However, as the hours ever so slowly crept by and the sunny rays of day faded into the purple hues of twilight…quietly extinguishing into the dark blanket of night.  So too did your faith that he would make it in time.

- But perhaps…maybe so…

- Shedding the snug fitting dress, you shrug on the tunic left behind from his last extended stay.  Surrounding yourself with his familiar, comforting scent; inhaling and exhaling in delight.  A gentle smile forming at the corners of your mouth, noticing the way it settles and stretches over your ample bump.  Knowing that soon enough…

- “Come on, little one,” you whisper.  Running a hand over, chasing after the tiny flutters with your fingers.  “There’s still some baking to be done…you can be my taste tester.”

- Carefully you maneuvered down the few steps in your cozy house.  Smile growing while you pause in the doorway of the now silent, tranquil living room.  Watching for a moment or two at how snow falls outside the window…how the flakes catch and glimmer in the glow globes’ warm light, the orange cast from the blazing hearth.  Then finally waddling towards the small kitchen, where a pot of something sweet and cinnamony simmers.

- Buzzing, flittering all about.  Diligently gathering up the last remaining ingredients, you eventually come to hover over the rickety stove.  Swaying back and forth slightly, humming a tune your mother sung during this special time of year. 

- So swept, caught up in your own thoughts; blissfully stirring away.  You don't even hear the front door creak open, let alone the two (then one) set of footsteps thumping loudly down the cramped hallway.  Until…

- Strong arms wind around your waist; settling beneath, cradling the swell of your stomach.  Rich, silken voice fills the aromic air; muttering lovingly from above.  “Whatever you're making smells absolutely delicious.”

- A string of giggles bubbles up from your throat as he leans down to nuzzle the side of your neck.  The scruff of his not so neatly trimmed beard tickling, sending sparks through you.  That smile of yours widening even further still.  “You’re favorite…what else did you expect?”

- “How did I get so lucky?”  Chuckling against; lavishing your skin with tender kisses, nipping occasionally at that one spot.  His palm glides, follows the curve of your belly.  Rubs soothing circles along the way, series of weak kicks trailing behind in its’ wake.  “I truly don’t deserve such a wonderful riduur.”

- Abandoning the spoon, your hand reaches up and behind.  Fingers tangling and burying in his shaggy, auburn locks; nails scratching lightly.  “Hush, cyar’ika.  You do; everything good in this galaxy, the next.  Including me and-”

- “Master, help…I’m out numbered!”  A certain lanky teen comes abruptly stumbling in.  Expression of mischief and joy plastered on his face; despite a grinning child hanging from each of his limbs, a fifth riding on his back…and, lastly, a sixth speedily crawling after.  “I stopped to admire the glow orbs and…they ambushed me!”

- “Play with us, ba’vodu!”  They chorus and laugh, holding tightly to his baggy clothes.  “Yeah, play with us, Uncle Ani!”

- Tilting your head, you exchange a knowing look with one another.  The very same as always…as that faithful day you two first met, when you started this amazing journey together.  The one that speaks volumes, silently says…kar’tayl gar darasuum.

- Before turning both your attentions back to your beautiful, incredible family.  “Happy Life Day…  It’s good to have everyone home…”

Tag List: @cacti5539, @espinathena-17

[muxshwriting]

slipping through my fingers

Obi-Wan Kenobi x platonic!padawan!reader

summary: obi wan has to let go of his padawan as you grows up and out of his protection and teachings || warnings: i cried writing this, mentions of death || word count: 605 || masterlist

Obi-Wan can't help but to feel guilty as he watches his padawan interact with the other Jedi knights. He can't shake the feeling that he's letting her go out into the world woefully unprepared. You've changed so much from the young girl he first met.

He supposes these are the fears all parents feel as their child grows up. Because that's what you are to him. He raised you since you were a child to the adult you are now. You were his child, in everything but blood.

He’s watched other masters let go of their padawans and move on with life. But he wonders how they can move on without glancing back at the person they’re leaving behind. Do they not feel guilty about taking new padawans? Or are they desensitised to the whole system? Maybe the first is always the hardest, maybe it’s the first that sticks with you, maybe the sudden ache in his heart will ease when you smile.

“Are you alright Master?”

He’s been lost in thought for a while, longer than usual. Obi-Wan simply nods, taking in the time he has with you know and fondly remembering everything you had done together. These moments will not happen again, nothing ever will. Life is made of fleeting moments you don’t truly appreciate until they’re over. But you must hold tightly to those moments and cherish them so they don’t go forgotten.

It’s a duty as a parent, or pseudo-parent, to come to a stop and let their children continue on their own. It’s scary. It’s terrifying actually, but all birds leave the nest, all seeds float away in the wind.

“Are you sure Master?”

Obi-Wan placed a hand on our shoulder, “You’ve grown up so fast.”

“Master-“ Words fail you. “I’ll never be too grown up for your teachings.”

“I’m very proud of you.”

You pull him into a hug, burying your face in his chest. “I can’t cry. Don’t make me cry.”

He chuckles, sounding slightly watery.

Becoming a Jedi Knight was very important to you. It had been what you were working toward for most of your life. Somewhere along the way, you realised that being a knight meant leaving the safety net you had relied on most of your life. Obi-Wan Kenobi was your safety net.

At one point, you would be away from him for the longest time, be the furthest away from him you had ever been and see him for the final time.

It was nice to be grown but there was something to be said for youth. There was no shame in not wanting to grow up but we all do it, we all move on. A new chapter begins because the previous one ended.

Time would separate you and your Master but he would always be your master. Eventually, death would call for him and you would be left without a source of advice and comfort. Death was such a small word for a big thing. But death is only the end if you assume the story is about you.

Your story would not end at your death, the same way Obi-Wan’s story did not end at his. His story did not end because of you, his padawan, his child. Your story would not end for the same reason. Everything Obi-Wan taught you, you taught to your padawan. The chain continues on and stretches back as long as time goes on.

You could trace teachings through time, from master to padawan, as padawan becomes master and teaches a new generation.

Every Jedi carries the legacy of a hundred others on their back.

Boy, oh, boy. I’m looking at future uni destinations right now and this song hits hard. I’m sobbing into my pillow at 1am after finishing writing this

Taglist: @aoi-targaryen

[catnipaddictt]

onion x reader where reader gets sick and he scolds her, but makes her soup anyway

obi wan x gn!reader

wc: 0.6k

cw: none - this is just fluff

comment: onion is my favourite star wars character <3 loe you emma

It started with a small cough that you thought nothing of. ‘It was probably just allergies’ was what you told yourself. But a few days later that wasn’t the case. 

You had been drowning in a sea of tissues and self pity when you heard the footsteps enter your room at the Jedi temple. Rolling over to face the door you are met by the face of none other than your secret lover and fellow Jedi, Obi wan Kenobi. 

His expression didn't soften at your state, as you had imagined, instead he let out a sigh. You observe him through half-closed eyes as he makes his way to the end of the bed, sitting down gently.

“What did I tell you about wearing your cloak at night?” He questions. You don't respond, opting to stay silent. Looking back, you really should have taken his advice and worn your robes properly while training outside at night. You let out a loud sneeze followed by another, less powerful one.

“What will I ever do with you?” He tuts before handing you a clean tissue to blow your raw nose. “I suppose you haven't eaten?” He doesn't really ask, it comes across more like an observation. You confirm his suspicions with a shake of your head which makes you feel dizzy and heavy. 

He gets up off your untidy bed, shrugging off his cloak as he moves, and draping it gracefully on the back of a chair. He doesn't say anything as he leaves your bedroom, and you might have thought he had left if it wasn't for the sound of him moving around. 

You wait and wait in your sick haze for what seems like forever, but in reality is only about 10 minutes, for his return. But nothing. Deciding you were way too sleepy for this sort of carry on, you pull the covers over yourself and close your eyes. Sleep comes easily to you.

You are awoken to a hand shaking you a wake lightly and the smell of something warm. Obi wan places the steaming bowl of soup on your bedside cabinet, before dragging a chair closer to your drowsy form. 

He uses a wooden spoon to scoop up some of the soup before bringing it to your lips. You drink slowly, and although your taste buds aren't working too well, you can taste this homemade delicacy. Obi wan spoon feeds you more of the sleep, stopping to dab at the corners of your mouth with a tissue when needed.

The silence is comfortable, but you break it once you have drunk the whole bowl. “Thank you” you speak hoarsely. “You didn't have to.”

Obi wan looks at you, analyzing the redness of your noses and your watery eyes. “Of course” is all he says before picking up the empty bowl and placing it in the sink. He returned a few moments later with a glass of water and a few pills for you to take.

You greedily gulp down the water as well as the pills to help with your headache. Obi wans fingers run over your face before he cups your chin. “Don't get to close, I don't want you sick as well” you speak with a ting of humor in your strained voice. He smiles in return 

“What would you do without me?” He jokes before pushing you down into your soft blankets. “Now sleep, your body has to mend itself.”

You don't argue with him, placing your head on the feathery light pillows. You can feel your body dozing off, the taste of soup on your lips, and a new life lesson learnt. Courtesy of your Obi wan Kenobi.

I have vampire reader x anakin in the works guys...

taglist: @heartsforanakin-deactivated2024 (rip maddie) @qvnthesia @ysrjune @anisscarletstarlet

[and-loth-cat]

if i die tomorrow its because of emotions with ewan getting his hollywood walk of fame star

im already losing my mind over this the ceremony is gonna kill me

[buckyarchives]

MODERN OBI-WAN KENOBI BOYF HC

I haven’t ever done a head cannon post but with how busy / lazy I’ve been I might post more of these, they’re a lot of fun. probably one for Bucky and Luke skywalker. If you want any other characters just lmk! Make sure to check my request post!

warning: nsfw content (labeled so if you want to skip you totally can)

tea guy, like, it’s crazy. has so many drawers full of boxes and bags. always making you tea to fit whatever mood you’re in

landscaper or teacher, or both. I imagine him teaching younger kids but probably wishes to be a professor of some sort, maybe teaching environmental science.

just really likes plants and flowers but sometimes gets tired of having to craft and trim everything to be perfect so he thoroughly enjoys natural nature and the “overgrown’ aesthetic

Adding onto that, loves to hike, always takes you with and nerds out about the scenery and views.

definitely fosters dogs from the local shelter and takes them on hikes to help leash train them.

unintentionally a pretentious little prick

circle lens glasses and turtle neck combo 24/7

And of course you steal his sweaters ALL THE TIME

Smells like citrus, grass and rain. the warm sun rays and vanilla

Always watching some documentary, or the history channel.

All your friends lowkey want him because he’s. That Guy.

Whenever he blushes it goes straight to his nose, ears and neck.

Frequent at most coffee shops in town so when he started to bring you around it was a big deal for the workers lol, so much gossip. And mild disappointment from the staff knowing obi wan was official taken

Probably hates small talk, finds it tedious and shallow

The most supportive boyfriend in the world, he’s always the first person there to cheer you on

When you started dating him, his cousin/best friend, Anakin, came as a packaged deal. The younger one frequently trailing behind obi wan and now, as you’ve got too closer, you as he’s become a younger brother figure to you.

Not jealous at all, he’s very secure in your relationship and his trust in you is crazy strong. finds it quite amusing when men hit on you in front of him and kinda just lets you play it out.

That is unless you become uncomfortable, he mostly lets you stand up for yourself but if it becomes overbearing he definitely won’t hesitate to cause a small scene.

A big runner and boxer, you’re used to having to help his knuckles heal up from long sessions. As well as joining him on early morning runs if he can get you up and out of bed for it.

He loves art and mostly drew and painted landscapes but after meeting you this sketch book began to fill of pictures of you from every angle possible.

So naturally put together all the time it makes you insecure sometimes

Obviously, obi wan is the best at easing those insecurities. He always notices when you’re feeling off, sometimes even before yourself, so quick to embrace you and whisper exactly what you need to hear.

Another thing, so good with his words??? He always tell you what you need to hear, there’s rarely ever any miscommunication between the two of you because of this and even when they’re are, arguments are not common.

Crazy sarcastic, will say the funniest shit ever with the most monotone face and it just makes it 100% times funnier.

Really likes Taylor swift and David Bowie

Always getting you bouquets of flowers, even arranges them himself sometimes.

“This reminded me of you.”

Such a safe and non-judgemental aura, you’d struggle with asking for help or learning new / seemingly ‘common sense’ things with past relationships in fear of seeming dumb but you feel so safe around obi-wan that those thoughts never cross your mind, always learning new things from him and enjoying how helpful and supportive he is.

Definitely an impala driver, either 40s Chevy impala or the very sleek and fancy 2020 impala premier, probably black and rarely dirty

Not the biggest cuddler in the world but really enjoys naps together, will drape an arm over you but he tends to move around in his sleep so he’s just content with sleeping besides you rather than wrapping limbs

But when he is in the mood to cuddle, it’s mostly on the couch when you decides to binge shitty reality television. He’s usually on his back and you’re laying ontop of his stomach with your ear to his chest

You two constantly binge dating reality shows, always criticizing the other couple and mostly men LOL.

“He did not just say that! Maker, you would have broke up with me then and there.” “Damn right I would.”

You trace all the moles and freckles along his body, obi wan definitely had a skin care routine and moisturizes so I imagine his skin is always so soft

NSFW!

really likes nudes, like the grainy MacBook camera pictures with a matching cute set type nudes (iykyk). Hot and slightly artistic, his favorite.

Doesn’t like porn though, never enjoyed it and it never really got him off, doesn’t like the morals of it either

Also sexting, not his thing. He’s usually more on the serious end when it comes to intimacy but he cannot take sexting seriously LMAOO

lowkey the type to come home from a long day of work and look you in the eye with That Look and you just know what he needs

Thigh guy, the type to take breaks from eating you out by just resting his head fully on your inner thigh and just gaze up at you

Sir / master kink

Will jokingly come up behind you when you’re in the kitchen or something and press his groin to your behind

Just a little tease overall, always doing shit like that and acting all innocent about it

VERY VERY vocal during sex (cough, cough, shallow graves ending scene, COUGH)

[bettercallwillow]

AFTER DARK: sneak peek

pairing: obi-wan x reader

contents: oral (m!recieving), dirty talk, praise

note: just a little peek of a story i've had brewing for a long long long while (too long) it should be out in the next week or so :))

As if muscle memory, you nodded and stuck out your tongue, eager to feel the weight of his dick. “Good girl, always know what to do,” He opened his sleep robe, revealing his massive length to your hungry eyes. Wasting no time, he shoved himself into your open mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

He didn’t pull out though, instead snaking his hand into your hair and pulling you further down his cock, making your eyes fill up with tears. You looked up at him and just the look on his face alone could make you cum right there. “There we go, sweetheart, I know you can take it, be a good girl,”

He fucking knew you melted when he spoke to you like that. He knew you would instantly submit to him, let him do anything he wanted to you.

Starting off slow, Obi started to move his hips, tears falling down your face as the tip stretched your throat- burning in the most delicious way. “You look so pretty with a mouth stuffed full of my cock, little one,” he groaned, his other hand slapping your cheek lightly, “How did I get so lucky to have such an obedient little cockslut like you, hm?”

As much as you were enjoying having his huge length invade your throat, you so wished he would be done with it now because you were seriously starting to throb with how much you needed him. He must have sensed this too, because after another few thrusts, he pulled out; enjoying it as you coughed and spluttered, gasping for air as spit drooled from your mouth.

[strangesthirdeye]

Yes

[justsomerandomfanfic]

A Fistful Of Romance - Christian X Female Reader

Title: A Fistful Of Romance

Christian X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Henri (Mentioned), and Le Chocolat (Mentioned)

Requested By: Anon!

WC: 1,414

Warnings: Reader's basically Satine (no hate to her, I love her), no sickness mentioned, The Duke, harassment, attempted forced kiss, Duke mentioned flirting with Reader, jealous Christian, physical violence (one punch), blood mentioned briefly, nicknames, slight angst, and fluff

The Moulin Rouge was busy, busy, busy; as it was, most of the time. You were one of the performers, the best actually. There wasn’t a whole lot that could be said about your job, but if you wanted to get paid for what you did, you had to work hard. Dancing and singing were hard to do, it was a difficult task to do night after night, with little breaks and sore feet and voices. But, after Christian came to the Moulin Rouge, your days and nights seemed to grow brighter.

He showed you that you could find love, that you were worthy of love, and that he could treat you well, with love, happiness, and respect. It was hard to say no, this offer almost seemed too good to be true, but when he swept you off into his beautiful song, you knew it must be real. He made you feel warm and happy, as though the world around you didn’t matter, as though everything that you needed was right in front of you. You and Christian were the perfect pair.

Everything was perfect…

Except, it wasn't. Nothing was perfect. Nothing was going to be perfect. The world wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. You wished it was, Christian felt the same too. You both wished that everything could be perfect. Living a different life, somewhere new and beautiful; happy and free.

But with this... This oaf, The Duke. He ruined everything. The Duke ruined every chance of anything being perfect. He ruined everything because he wanted to. Because he could. And the only way that he could was by hurting everyone who got in his way. That, or he tried to.

For you though, he didn't think he was ruining your life at all. In fact, he thought that he could make it better. He offered you hundreds of things; jewels, money, power, but not love. You knew that he could never love you. He was in love with the idea of you, your beauty. Not your talents, brains, or anything else. All he wanted was someone pretty to use and look at. And you were not leaving your Christian for that. So you turned him down. No matter what he offered, no matter how many promises he made, you would always stay faithful to your man. That's just how it was. 

And you thought that he'd give up, but he didn't. He used every chance that he could get to try and flirt with you, win you over. But it was all for nothing. You always ignored the man and walked away when things got too touchy on his part, but for Christian... Well, it was beginning to become too much to bear for him. How dare this man, Duke or not, try and win you over? Even though Christian knew that he had zero chance. How dare he? You and Christian were in love. Love! And nothing was going to break that bond. Not even a spoiled rich brat like The Duke himself. 

But your love was a secret, almost to everybody, except two people, Henri and Le Chocolat. They kept your secrets, but as Christian stood on the sidelines of the stage, watching as The Duke, once more, trying to lure you into his grasp with sparkly dresses and things; he felt his blood boil. With dark, narrowed eyes - his face hardened - as he watched. His hands curled into tight fits at his sides, his breathing becoming deep, his heart hurting. An overwhelming feeling of envy - jealousy - was slowly corrupting his soul.

He watched as you crossed your arms, turning your head away from the man as he tried so desperately to get your attention, while he gave an obnoxious laugh. You rolled your eyes, scoffed, and moved further away, but The Duke followed, taking your hand and pulling you into him. Your eyes widened as he tried to then lean in, his lips pursed in an attempt to steal your kiss... Only to have his hand snatched away by Christian. 

You sighed out a breath, relieved that he came to your aid. But right before you could thank him, your eyes met his dark ones. Those swirls of blue and hints of green stared daggers at The Duke. His face hadn't changed as his grip tightened around The Duke's wrist before he pushed the man away.

"Excuse me!" The Duke exclaimed, blinking rapidly as he staggered back, raising his hands to fix the collar of his suit. "How dare you touch me." He glared at Christian, whose eyes had remained narrow since the man's fingers touched you. 

"How dare you touch her." Christian countered, keeping his voice low yet firm.

The Duke snarled, "How dare you interrupt us! We were having a private conversation."

"Private conversation?" Christian scoffed, taking his chance to take your hand, gently pushing you behind him. "It looked like you were trying to force her to kiss you."

"That is none of your business." The Duke retorted, his teeth grinding together. "I don't know why you seem to care so much." He then huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "She's only a dancer-"

You gasped, your hands flying to your mouth, your eyes widening as you watched Christian draw back his fist and punch The Duke square in the nose. A large crack was heard as the man's nose broke, causing him to fall backward, clutching his broken nose as the blood gushed profusely. The Duke cried out in pain, cradling his broken nose as he lay there on the ground, looking up at Christian in shock. Everyone stopped their chatter and watched in horror as The Duke struggled to stand. 

Without a word, Christian took your hand and pulled you away, and you followed him, into the depths of the dark backstage. You felt almost out of breath, shocked, you never thought your Christin would punch The Duke. Leaning against the wall, you watched as Christian shut his eyes, trying to calm himself, his hand still holding yours. 

"You punched him. You... I never- I..." You stuttered out, at a loss for words as Christian looked up at you.

"I'm sorry, my love," He spoke softly, mentally tired, "I just... I wasn't thinking..."

Your heart warmed, you took his hand that was holding you with your other one, gently pulling him closer to you, your lips pressing a soft kiss to his sore knuckles. "Christian, my dearest. Thank you for that. Thank you so much." You murmured, leaning up, kissing him gently.

Christian smiled against your lips, leaning into you and wrapping his arms around your waist. "Of course, my darling. Of course. I just... I couldn't just watch as he put his hands on you. And when he spoke about you in such a way..." He paused, shaking his head before continuing, "You're not just a dancer, my love, my stars,"  He continued, his voice soft yet filled with passion, "You're my world. And I'll protect you, with all my heart." 

You sighed softly, your shoulders dropping as you stared up at him, "Oh, Christian... Thank you..." You whispered, resting your forehead against his. "You're my world as well." 

The two of you stayed there for a moment, silent. Then you began giggling quietly, and soon enough Christian joined in; your laughter was infectious. "What are you giggling about, my darling," Christian muttered, and you bit your lip as you tried to calm your laughter.

"His face..." You began, shoulders shaking up and down from your giggles, you pressed a hand to your mouth, "He looked so... Surprised."

Christian's eyes softened and his smile grew, admiring the sight of you in his arms. His hand gently caressed your cheek, his fingers brushing against your soft skin, your eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks. "Yes, I suppose he did." He responded, smiling slightly.

You felt him lean in, his hot breath warming your skin. When he brushed his lips against yours, you felt a shiver run through you, a warmth spread throughout your whole body. You smiled and tilted your head slightly as your lips brushed against his. You kissed softly, lightly, your eyes closed as you enjoyed the feeling of his lips on yours. You loved the sensation of his strong arms wrapped tightly around you. When you finally parted, you rested your head against his chest as he wrapped his arms tighter around you.

And there, in his arms, you were safe.

---

Main Masterlist | Misc. Masterlist

[catcherblocks]

sigh i love ewan so much

[thornsinmycrown]

PRAYING HANDS

YANDERE!PATRICK MCKENNA x READER

warnings: [ MDNI +18 ] religious themes, yandere themes, stalking, obsession, constantly fantasizing about kidnapping (father mckenna). word count: 639

summary: you're in his mind, day and night, like a holy prayer.

Every day, he watches you pray from afar, how you come and go seldomly like the tiny flowers that grow outside the window of his room on spring, floating around the cathedral the same way the wind carries a lonely dry leaf that falls from a tree, he can't help but stutter a bit every time he looks your way when giving the sermon.

He can't decipher your glances, yours seem magnetic to him, like a deer's peering his lashes tenderly to tempt him, and the temperature of the room changes to a cozy hell whenever you close your eyes and fold your hands in front of you to pray, they look delicate — oh so soft.

Everything of you looks so soft for him to grasp, from the shiny threads that form your hair and frame your face, to the texture of your skin shimmering with the painted glass of the windows, the gracefulness in which your lips move to mumble the morning prayers and how your hands trace across your body the holy cross, he swears he can see the halo in your head once you walk in, but then why —oh God, why?— does he feel that churning inside when he sees you?

If your angelic presence's holiness is not questioned, why does he feel like he is comforted by the vision of the sweetest of all angels in hell?

Are his eyes sinning every time they admire you? Is it unholy to hold his breath when he passes so tortuously behind you through the aisles when the church closes its doors? Why are his thoughts so insistent on betraying his faith?

He can't find his resolve any sooner.

You're a God's creature and he is a servant of God, isn't it his duty to unconditionally love his every creation?

He knows he is in the wrong longing everything of you, he is aware he shouldn't be so eager to send all to the damn just to meet a caress in his cheek of the softness of your praying hands, within his soul he knows these are not God trials, these are the Devil's work to lure him. He knew well Satan was once an angel and so were you — then why couldn't he deny you?

You weren't more than a human, but that didn't make you any less than an enchantress. He imagines you in inappropriate scenarios, eyes rolled back and knuckles turning white, writhing and yearning, flesh to flesh flushed hellfire red late at night. He was never a romantic, and would never be, nevertheless, would whisper all of this nonsense like a chant into the void of his room make you come to him?

Patrick is not dumb, he can see the clear confusion in your face, your sweet features wonder what invade his mind while looking at you, and he wishes you could understand he only wants the best for you, that the pureness of his intentions should not be questioned — and how much he wants to keep you.

He grows white roses in his room, thinking they would give a bit of life to it, making it more appealing for you, he even got blankets with the colorful tones of the clothes he has seen you wear to make it seem comfortable. He hopes you like them so you can stay with him, Patrick dreams of the day when you can finally become a part of him, when you'll arrive to stay at his humble whereabouts and stay forever, he wouldn't mind if you want to or not, he would be glad to make you stay.

He prays with you in mind, prays and prays for God to let him see you again with desperation, on his knees in his praying sessions begging to his holy father to give you to him.

Author's note: I was watching angels & demons the other day and remembered Father McKenna exists so, this is a bit more of a drabble than anything else, I don't think I will do a follow-up of it unless it is well received or I get more inspiration to do another different reader.

[ficsforfandoms]

The Rest Of My Life

Prompt - ‘I’d like to laugh with her for the rest of my life.’ 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out Christian, any fool who took a single glance at him could sum him up quite as easily as somebody who had known him since he was just a small boy. They would tell you he was a man in love, in love with what nobody could ever guess. There was never a woman in his life, Christian had no experience with love and yet his whole life seemed to revolve around love.

Christian himself would tell you how beautiful love was, how it was all one needed to be happy. He was content to sit at his typewriter for hours on end, his fingers dancing quickly across the keys in a desperate attempt to keep up with each new thought and idea that came to him.

Love was beautiful. It was breathtaking. It made the world a better place. Christian could spend the rest of his life waxing the most adoring words to describe the feeling of being loved and being in love.

He might never have been in love but oh how he had dreamed of it. The feeling of his lover curled into his chest, his fingers trailing through soft hair, caressing her cheek before feeling her lips against his, the words he wrote suddenly having a new meaning because they were all about her.

Christian wanted to be in love more than anything.

It was perhaps for that reason that Christian hadn’t protested so much when Toulouse insisted he joined them at the Moulin Rouge that evening, a place he would never usually have frequented but he knew he wouldn’t find love sitting in his room. It was one of the reasons he had left London, he needed to put himself out there, he needed to find her.

So he went to the Moulin Rouge and he stared in wide eyed wonderment at the sights, there were so many different types of people, lights and jewels shone around the room, Christian wasn’t able to take everything in fast enough before the girls were singing and his attention was pulled to the front of the room.

He was quick to join in on the festivities as Toulouse pulled him along with a giant grin on his face, the music loud and the drink in his hand cold, Christian was singing and dancing along with the rest of the crowd in no time.

You were the first to spot him, watching as he laughed with his group of friends, looking so happy and carefree, like there was nothing bad in the world. He was beautiful, of that there was no doubt, but there was something about him beyond his beauty that seemed to pull you to him.

You stayed where you were though, despite wanting to make your way over to him, choosing instead to just observe him. You were quick to look away when he turned your way, focusing on the near empty drink in your head and hoping when you turned back he hadn’t disappeared from view.

Christian was enchanted in a second of seeing you. Alone at the bar, bringing a glass to your lips, Christian couldn’t look away if he tried. The flood of people separating you seemed to vanish from view for Christian, the songs and the dancing suddenly not all that interesting to him anymore. Of course how could they be when compared to you?

“Toulouse,” Christian said, not looking away from you as he called his friend's attention, “she’s beautiful.”

“So go and talk to her.” Toulouse encouraged and if only it could be that simple, for him to simply walk across the room and close the distance between the two of you.

“Oh I couldn’t!” Christian insisted, finally pulling his gaze from you to look at Toulouse with wide eyes. “I wouldn’t know what to say, what to do! She looks like a woman I could only dream about, what chance would a penniless nobody like me have with a woman like that?”

“Christian, it is easy, just tell her you think she’s beautiful and go from there. Don’t you think she should have a say in whether she wants to be with you?” Toulouse asked, smirking when Christian didn’t immediately shoot him down but instead turned back to you.

“Perhaps you’re right.” Christian said absentmindedly, his attention solely on you again. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Good luck!” Toulouse’s call was muffled as Christian made his way through the crowd, people moving this way and that, causing him to stumble his way through the sea of people before he finally made his way to where you sat alone at the bar, hands wrapped around an empty glass.

“Excuse me?” Christian started and you couldn’t help but smile at the soft voice to your right, glancing over when you saw the man from across the room standing nervously at your side. “If you wouldn’t mind the company, I’d quite like to join you.”

Your smile widened and Christian was mesmerised. He could sit and stare at you all day, already he had hundreds of words running through his head that he was desperate to type out, finally having real inspiration for his poems.

“Please do take a seat.” You told him, gesturing to the seat next to you and Christian had to control his smile at your voice, you sounded as beautiful as you looked, a voice he’d quite like to listen to for the rest of his life.

“Could I buy you another drink?” Christian offered as he gestured down to your empty glass.

“I’d like that, thank you.”

It wasn’t long before the two of you had drinks in front of you, Christian unable to look away from you for even a single moment whereas you kept glancing at him from the corner of your eyes, thankful that he seemed as captivated by you as you were for him.

“I’m sorry, how rude of me, I completely forgot to introduce myself. I’m Christian.” He introduced himself, a pink flush spreading across his check that you could help but giggle softly at, a sound that had Christian’s heart speeding up.

“Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You told him with a smile and Christian wanted you to always smile at him like that.

“You truly are beautiful, Y/N.” Christian said, the words falling from his lips seemingly without his permission if his wide eyes and startled look was anything to go by but you just laughed again and the sound alone seemed to calm him.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” You asked him and watched as his eyebrows knitted together before he shook his head. “I figured, most men don’t speak to any women here quite so nicely.”

“That’s ridiculous! Surely somebody else must have noticed your beauty? One look from across the room and I knew I just had to know you!” Christian exclaimed, baffled at your words.

“You’re a romantic sort, aren’t you? I’ve never heard anyone speak quite like you do.” You told him with a soft smile, glad he had come to join you.

“Oh yes! I love everything about love, there’s no better feeling, nothing better in the whole world than love!” Christian told you enthusiastically and you couldn’t help but smile along with him.

Christian felt himself blush under your smile, knowing how he could get when the subject of love was brought up. Suddenly, here before you, it felt like everything he had known about love was wrong, it was so much more consuming than he could have ever thought it would be.

“I wish I believed in love half as much as you seem to.” You told him wistfully, glancing down into your drink and missing Christian’s wide eyed look of horror.

“You don’t believe in love?” He exclaimed and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“It’s not that I don’t believe in love, of course it’s real,” You said before sighing, “It’s just that, I don’t know, sometimes I wonder if I was ever made to be loved like that.”

“Of course you were.” Christian said once the words were out of your mouth and you turned to look at him in confusion, he debated whether he should carry on before deciding it was worth it. “Of course you were made to be loved, I knew the moment I saw you that you were put here, right here in Montmartre, here on this very night in the Moulin Rouge, to be loved!”

“You can’t possibly mean that, Christian.” You brushed him off with a huff of a laugh but continued looking at him, the determined look on his face had you doubting your own words.

“But I do.” He insisted. “You see, I’m a poet, I write about love and never have I met anybody in my whole life who gives my words meaning. Suddenly everything I have ever written about faceless people seems dreadfully dull when compared to what I want to write about you!”

“I’ve never been loved before.” You told him softly.

“I’ve never been in love before.” He admitted, his voice just as quiet as yours and the two of you remained that way for several moments, the noises of the Moulin Rouge muted around you.

“You hardly know me.” You finally said, not sure if it was an attempt to stop whatever seemed to be occurring or an invitation for him to accept.

“I’d like to though, more than anything in the whole world.” He told you, everything about him radiated sincerity. “I quite think I’d like to spend the rest of my life getting to know you.”

You were silent again, left speechless as you stared at the man who gave you a sheepish smile, reaching up to push his hair back nervously as he waited for you to say something. You weren’t quite sure you could find any words though at the moment so instead just nodded, strangely taken with the young man and wanting to know him as much as he did you.

“Would you like to leave? We could go anywhere you like.” Christian asked and you nodded again, allowing him to take your hand and lead you away from the bright lights.

The two of you stayed that way, walking alongside each other long after the music and singing coming from the Moulin Rouge had faded, hands entwined as you both filled the silence. Christian told you about why he had come to Paris, leaving behind a life in London in exchange for a chance to make a new one, one filled with love and poetry. You told him about your life too, telling him of the adventures that you had that had led you all the way to Paris and the Moulin Rouge.

The two of you wandered the streets for hours, barely noticing the time pass as you traded secrets and stories. It wasn’t until yawns started to interrupt your conversations that you both realised that hours had passed since you’d left the Moulin Rouge.

“I don’t want this night to end.” Christian told you, looking at you with a sad, regretful look. “I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a night like this one.”

“I can say the same thing myself. I’ve rather liked getting to know you, Christian.” You said and watched as his expression morphed into a smile.

“We will do this again, won’t we? Oh, please say we will, Y/N!” Christian exclaimed, causing you to laugh, smiling brightly at him and Christian found himself returning the gesture without a second thought.

Your smile truly was contagious.

“I’d like nothing more.” You told him truthfully, giggling again as his smile spread impossibly wider as he pulled you closer to him.

“Can I walk you home?” He asked and you immediately agreed, even after spending so long together tonight you wanted to stay with him a little while longer.

The walk home consisted of much softer spoken conversation, the both of you knowing that in a matter of minutes you’d have to part ways. When your building came into sight you sighed softly and turned to Christian.

“I can’t wait to see you again.” Christian said as he reached over to brush a strand of hair away before his hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone.

He gave you plenty of time to pull away but instead you leaned forward, meeting him halfway. Christian suddenly understood every word he had ever read, he realised every cliche was real when he felt your lips against his, the world around him forgotten as he kissed you back until you were both breathless and forced to pull away.

“Goodnight Christian.” You murmured, leaning up to place a lingering kiss against his lips before stepping back to memorise the dazed look on Christian’s face.

“Goodnight Y/N.” Christian whispered, keeping his gaze on you until you’d disappeared behind the closed door of your apartment building.

He stayed where he was for a few moments longer, just smiling to himself with the memory of your lips against his running through his head. You were truly unlike anybody he had ever met before, someone he knew he had to know, had to keep in his life.

Christian walked home with his smile firmly in place and let himself into his own rooms, shrugging his coat off before taking a seat at the table, his trusty typewriter already waiting for him.

Tonight I met her, the girl who gives meaning to every word of love, each line sounds beautiful and new because of her. Suddenly I know what love is, an all-encompassing feeling that I will treasure for the rest of my life, a life I hope to share with her. She’s beautiful, not just in the way she looks but in the way she talks, in the way she laughs. I laughed more tonight than I ever have in my life. I think…no I know I’d like to laugh with her for the rest of my life.

[thesassypadawan]

His Universe (Obi-Wan x Darling!Reader)

Summary: Fates.  Always intertwined, forever connected.  Constantly changing, evolving.  Adding new factors, elements.  No matter how far they stray, they will find a way time and time again to come back to one another.  Meshing together their galaxy and his universe.

Notes: A little collab between myself and @everydaydreamer.  Go check out her half for Vader, Qimir, and the Empress…Their Galaxy.  This is the story that comes after the last fight between Obi-Wan and Vader in the Kenobi series.

(Obi-Wan)

“You were my brother.  I loved you.”  Those words have plagued him ever since that horrific day.  Playing over and over, infinitely torturing the tattered remnants of his soul.  And although they have grown quieter as the years dragged on, nearly a whisper on the edge of his conscious.  The phantoms haven’t echoed this loud, till now…

A slight breeze blows across the desolate landscape.  Dissipating the thin fog, just enough to reveal the dark lord himself, Vader.

Dozens of thoughts, emotions, long repressed memories course and swirl throughout his fragile psyche.  As he stares upon the twisted, distorted outline of his former apprentice.

“Have you come to destroy me, Obi-Wan?”

Willing, calling forth that inner strength.  Obi-Wan straightens, steels his resolve.  Igniting his lightsaber.  Sapphire bathing, illuminating his weathered and hardened features.  “I will do what I must,” he replies cooly.  Falling easily into that old, familiar form…pointing and leveling his blade.

“Then you…”  Crimson bursts forth.  Casting its eerie and unsettling glow on that ghastly helmet.  “…will die!”

(Darling)

Sparks fly.  Red and blue clashes against each other, the sounds echoing around the empty moon…

Standing in the small cockpit, you watch in awe and horror as the scene unfolds outside.  With one hand holding tightly onto the token that hung from your neck, the other protectively resting on your swollen belly.  Waiting for the inevitable outcome.

It was foolish, reckless of you to come along.  But you couldn’t let Obi-Wan go by himself.  Let him bear this weight, face such an emotional challenge - his fallen brother alone…

Calloused palms rested on, gripped your shoulders gently.  While those piercing, cerulean eyes stared deeply into yours.  “Remember, the moment you see my saber extinguish.  The moment you can no…”

Voice faltered and wavered, words died on the tip of his tongue.  It pained you to see him like this.  Unsure, his air of confidence and that blazing spark of hope absent.  After he had only rediscovered, reignited it once again.

“I know,” you whispered up at him, your own tone trembling slightly.  “If I no longer feel you within the force, I get off this rock.  Fast, discreetly.  That’s not going to happen though.  All four of us are going to make it back home.  Whole and in one piece.”

The faintest of smiles had crossed his tired face.  Rich sounding chuckle bubbled up from his throat and rumbled in his chest.  For a sweet, single second.  “Then perhaps that is what will come to pass.  After all, I haven’t known an instance when your intuition was wrong.  My darling wife.”

That moment had been sweet, fleeting.  Just like the kiss he placed on your lips and the two on each side of your bump.  Before he departed down the boarding ramp, disappearing…

Sparks flew and the wielder of the red saber fell onto one knee.  The blue remains standing fast, hovering cautiously above.  Without a single doubt, you know this battle has ended.  Your jedi knight coming out the victor.  And yet, deep down, there’s a nagging feeling?  A sense of unease?  A disturbance?

Another smaller, hooded figure appears seemingly out of nowhere behind Obi-Wan.  Blinding bolts of purple lightning erupting from their fingers, enveloping his body in its eerie glow.  Causing white-hot, searing pain to race through his veins - through your shared bond.  Until…

As suddenly as it begins, it ceases.  Leaving you hunched over, clinging to the ship’s console.  Reeling, breathing heavily.  Tears freely spilling forth, blurring your vision.  While you helplessly witness him writhe and twist.  Collapse to the hard ground.

Despite him having thrown up his walls, severed the connection.  You know in your heart, feel within the ever-flowing currents of the force…  “A-Alive,” you mutter between gasps and sobs.  “Alive.”

Without hesitation, without a second thought.  You grab the other saber he had brought, the one he had hoped and prayed he could finally return to its rightful owner.  And abandon your ship, your promise to Obi-Wan.  Running headlong into the night, towards the three retreating forms.  Towards the quickly closing bay door.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Carefully, stealthily you move through the sterile looking hallways.  Keeping to the shadows and side corridors.  Following the sparse, faint traces of Obi.  While trying to avoid the ominous, sinister ones that also resided on this station.  The ones you know you had no chance of defeating if they come across or find you.

It’s that thought which haunts and weighs heavy on your mind.  As you navigate twist after twist, turn after turn of the seemingly infinite maze.  When suddenly, two sources of that menacing darkness appear…with the soft swish of electronic doors.

Immediately, you pop back around the corner.  Pressing yourself against the wall, evening out your breaths.  Trying to make your signature, the twin’s, smaller within the force.  Gripping your weapon firmly, finger hovering above the ignition the entire time.

Sith Lords or not - you weren’t going to go down without a fight.

Hearing the heavy footfalls of the masked duo quickly approach.  You were quite certain that you would soon be discovered.  However, just when you were about to bring the blazing, azure blade to life…they pass you by. 

Anger, mixed with concern, radiating from them.  Far too busy arguing between themselves to take notice or glance in your direction.  Thank the maker.

Waiting an extra moment or two for the pair to be completely out of sight, the weight of their dark auras to fully vanish.  You slip inside the dimly lit room they had vacated, after ‘coercing’ the lock and scanner to allow you entrance.  And are meet by the sight of…

“Hello there.  General Kenobi.”

Slumped in a corner of the cramped cell.  Battered, clothes torn in some places.  Obi-Wan picks up his head at the sound of your voice.  A look of annoyance, exasperation briefly flashes across his dirt and blood smudged face.  Before softening into his usual bemused smile.  “Hello there to you too, sweetheart.  Stubborn as ever, I see.”

“Not me,” you tease, attempting to make light of the situation.  By feigning hurt and offense.  Giving your belly a loving tap.  “Nooo, you have it all wrong.  It was our precious little ones’ idea-”

Shouts, muffled orders, frantic movements not too far outside the door. 

“Right.  Sassy banter and proper reunion later.  Rescue now,” you hurriedly say.  Activating your saber, holding it extremely close to the durasteel bars.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It didn’t take long to also ‘persuade’ them, along with the lovely alarm.  (Which ‘happily’ fell silent when you interested your blade into its core.)  And soon enough you find yourself traversing those lifeless corridors once more.  Your beloved husband in tow.

“It’s not far from the hanger,” you mutter.  Staying a few paces behind and keeping your voice low.  Using and covering your presence with the commotion from the tiny congregation pill and medical droids, troopers.  Who appear to be all following one another, flocking towards a particular point in the station.  “I saw a small ship there earlier.  If we can board it, we can escape undetect-”

The words fall short, dry up in your mouth.  You pause, freeze up not too far away from an open door.  Where your eyes widen, observing the scene that plays out.  Almost in slow motion, you watch the two masked men rush to the side of a woman.  Swaddled in black robes, roughly your age.  Clutching, rubbing a bump nearly as big and round as your own.  Her face tensed and contorted in…

A sharp pain shoots along your spine, the muscles in your lower back clench.  You squeeze Obi-Wan’s hand tightly, your breaths come out in small pants.  It was almost like you were going into…   

“Darling…Darling?”  Mutters frantically, softly.  Holding you close to his side, his other hand protectively cradling your tummy.  “Are you all right…the boys?”

Time speeds up once more and the door slides shut.  Blocking your view of the woman, the commotion within your body coming to an abrupt halt.  “F-Fine,” you manage to stammer, attempting to recenter yourself.  “Let’s…let’s keep going, get back ho-home.”

And, true to your intuition…  All four of  you made it…  Whole and in one piece…

[danielsharmanswife]

Hi everyoooone. I've been missing for 4 years, i know, I've had a pretty serious writer's block but I'm back now! (I think) I'm working on a Jayce Talis fic that I've been mulling over for quite a while and I'm really looking forward to sharing it with you guys. Keep your fingers crossed for this to work out, because if it does, I might be encouraged to keep writing.

I also plan to post some fic about my poor Loris from Arcane. I have to feed the people and make up for the lack of content.

Regarding the fic with the different Ewan McGregor's characters, I think I'm going to cancel it. I already had the ending for the Mark Renton part but I can't get the inspiration to finish it, I'm really sorry. I hope to be able to take it up again someday.

Anyway, I've really missed being here and interacting with all of you. I'm a bit rusty so I hope to get back into the swing of things soon.

Love you guys 💕

(I feel like I'm going to be talking to a wall lol)

(Keep in mind that I was 16 when I wrote the fics that I already have on this acc. It absolutely terrifies me to see what I wrote back then. I'm not going to delete them, but if you do read them, do it with the mindset that a teenager wrote them during the pandemic.)

[catnipaddictt]

i feel like obi wan would be the type to try to start something by kissing ur neck and stuff but as soon as you scratch his head this man is out and snoring

You are so so real for this anon <3 This is short but hopefully sweet

obi wan x gn!reader

wc: 0.2k

Obi Wan’s lips ghosted over your neck, his warmth breath causing goosebumps. You could feel the ridge of his nose press against your skin, continuing its journey along your jawline, making sure nowhere is left untouched. As he attacks the soft skin of your throat, your hands make their way to his long hair, running your hands through the soft strands.

 He is doing well until your hands make contact with his scalp, sending him into a state of pure relaxation. His head drops to your shoulder, resting there as your fingers touch him in just the right spot. Before you know it, the Jedi is snoring lightly against you, your exposed neck long forgotten. 

You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as he drifts off against your frame. The rhythmic sounds of him breathing is the only sound in the dim room, prompting you to carefully maneuver yourself so you are both laying down. Your fingers continue the play with his hair, scraping against his head softly as not to wake him. 

You can slowly feel yourself drift away against him, his arm now dropped over your frame, holding you close to his heart.

Taglist: @heartsforanakin-deactivated2024 @ysrjune @qvnthesia @anisscarletstarlet @inneedsoffanfics

[slivergrey]

Hello everyone

This is Silvergrey here!

You can address me as Rose, I love writing so much, I write for the following people (currently :) it will become bigger):

Pedro Pascal

Gerard Butler (so underrated)

James Mcavoy

Ewan McGregor

Tom Cruise