#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.

[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

[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

[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)

[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

[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.

[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

[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.

[catcherblocks]

sigh i love ewan so much

[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.)

[deepbatched]

The Last Echoes | Obi-Wan Kenobi x Fem!Reader

Part 2 of ? « previous part

warnings: none, obi-wan's pov, angst with bits of comfort, not y/n, slight mentions of villian!reader, mentions of order 66 and death a.k.a. reader. this takes place in the series and flashbacks during tcw. possible grammar mistakes (english is not my first language). w/c: 3.4k.

Summary: After Obi-Wan Kenobi successfully rescues Leia, he starts to question himself how could his hedonistic beloved possibly end up the way she did, the way he last saw her. Seeking for answers, he reaches for Bail Organa to find out why he —like all the people he loved before— couldn't save her.

"It's easy for you, isn't it?", Obi Wan didn't understand her question. "Play the good guy, doing your part", she explained herself.

It is known that every love tale starts with promises of everlasting affection, to the drowning sensation of being consumed by the image of your loved one. Theirs didn't start nor end like that.

"Maybe we're more similar than you'd like to hear" he twirled his blue lightsaber, his pose relaxing as their fight had stopped again, he never turned his weapon off, neither did she, they just let them rest for a minute.

Their love was unusual, as Obi- Wan recognized that he loved everything he hated about her, and she hated everything he believed in, yet never could hate him. The contradiction installed in themselves not to be blamed as in the eyes of the other they would never be judged.

"Oh, don’t act like you really know me," she chuckled mockingly, "and don't agree with me, fight with me".

She elevated her lightsaber again, striking him fast enough to not harm him, slow enough for him to see it coming. They kept attacking simultaneously, illuminating the little room they were fighting in, gracing each other like children playing tag your it.

She turned it off once they reached a darker part of the compound, becoming invisible to him as she tried to blind her Force signature from him, creeping in the shadows like a bounty hunter, she came out kicked him on his stomach, he turned off his lightsaber too as quickly as a blink, he didn't wish to hurt her.

But that thinking was offending her at that moment.

If Obi-Wan wanted a physical fight, she would give him a war. And she did, she did give him an endless war on his mind that he could never win.

He focused on feeling her, reaching her through the Force, a wrapping sensation fed him up with curiosity, a taste of storm, the smell of petrichor and the color gray, plain defenseless color, the color of cold, of smoke and pain.

She was about to punch him in the face with the back of her arm — an aggressive kiss on his cheek. He stopped it abruptly, being able to turn her into his body, his chest pressed with her back, caging her in an unwanted embrace, a long awaited unrequited display of affection.

"Hurt me back!", she demanded, with all her love and her pain and her rage, "Don't you love to be enemies with me?", she asked rather spitefully, trembling even, as her eyes watered a little.

Obi-Wan could feel it in her Force signature, all of her sadness, and pride, and brokenness and love, confused and disturbed, but still it was love. And as her nails clawed into his arms like a wounded animal, she didn't want to leave his pull on her.

He didn't have to say anything, not even when they were both ignoring the war outside to slip and cuddle on the floor for a minute or two, they were there, holding the other in their arms bruised and unable to heal on their own, feeling each other melt and combine through the Force, so close yet so far.

Obi-Wan had hope in her, he had hope for everyone in fact, but with her was different.

Because hope was an infectious disease that threatened him when he saw her golden eyes, like if her Force signature elevated her in that aura, he let himself be wrapped in it for seconds every encounter, just to sunbathe in her. To know what it felt like to be part of the foreign. When he wasn't paying attention, she could feel him too, mingled with his softer side, as if it cleared her mind. There was no violence, no sharpness, no resistance. Only him.

Obi-Wan didn't want to be her enemy, but he knew they could never be friends, they were the third secret thing, the thing in between loving and hating. Whatever it was, he didn't want to let go.

But he had to open his eyes, to welcome reality and wake up to another setting totally different to the one he was engaging with inside his mind. He had become an old man in a chair, delusional with his own past, trying to decode it like a cryptic message. Instead she guarded him hidden in the shadows, and he daydreamed about her in the passenger's seat.

Another mission accomplished. Another time to feel like the hero.

If he succeeded, why didn't he feel completely relieved? Holding Leia's hand he could reminisce a glimpse of his past, the numerous times he held little Anakin's with caution when he missed his mom in the coldness of the immense space, the almost identical gentle grip to not shatter her dreams the very way he shattered her past already. Because guilt wasn't completely washed away, their encounter was not even near to be over, it would linger within his soul till the twins became of age and learned the truth of their origins.

The same way her memoir would burn his soul for the next few years of his existence. His sweet viper, his hedonistic beloved, his tiny little hope.

Egotistically, she was the only thought his mind could fully develop without the shadow of Anakin's demise and the possession of Darth Vader. She was now entirely his problem, his last nightmare.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was the last register of your existence.

In their brief fight, Darth Vader had revealed to him how she had disappeared once more, allegedly by Kenobi's hand. The Sith Lord couldn't be more wrong, as Obi-Wan could barely see her corpse for less than five minutes. There was no way she had just stood up and left the fortress, she was very much dead, they both saw how she was not with him.

But that didn't matter in a fight like that, nor the next one. All that mattered was that little Leia was safe and at home again, the same way Luke would be protected from the ghosts that followed him, Obi-Wan knew now he wouldn't need him for the next few years.

Oh how much he missed to be needed. How he missed to feel their bond, to call her through his commlink in those misty lonely nights.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Pacing restless at his quarters, he felt the call of his own fears take in his spirit, he had fought as he believed was right. The burning bruises lingered in his arms and back, nothing comparable to the touch of the blaster's shot she received to protect him.

And he had noticed how it started to become more frequent, she didn't attack him when he fell to the floor merciless anymore, she waited for him to catch his breath and even handed him his lightsaber when she made it fall, it happened multiple times which stopped being isolated moments. Simple coincidences became premeditated displays of mutual admiration.

Aren't you supposed to kill the enemy?

Then why take care of him?

Why did he want to comfort her?

Whatever bruises and scratches he had, was little to the scar she would wear.

"Hello?... Hello?" she had answered believing it was a mistake, perhaps bad coverage from the sleazy place she found on a remote planet.

His blurry face came more into view, a clear shape of a man he had seen for a while, gentle blue eyes that haunted her like a ghost, a ghost of a promised hope that shall never come.

In the pit of intrigues and destroyed battleships, lied the face of a man that she yearned to know, whose only known facts revolved into thoughts of war, after the wars begun there was no time for anything else, and with her misleading to the acclaimed wrong side it was certain they weren't going to become the best of friends. In fact, it was forbidden to seek contact between each other, even could be considered an act of high treason to the ideals of the Republic.

Yet they were there, he was there more likely, pretending he didn't fancy her, as he would unknowingly pretend for the rest of his life that he didn't attain feelings beyond platonic for another being ever in his heart. But how to admit out loud to her what he could not even make up to himself?

It was not in his plans to do it, but after seeing her injured, he knew he had to at least find a way to reach out to her as well as he knew how wrong it was, and there he was anyway, furrowing his brow when heard her muffled groan.

"Does it hurt?" he asked worriedly watching the hologram's movements, she was dense in the brim, a shadow whose light was only seen in the darkest of nights — his deadly firefly.

What did it hurt? The distance? The code? The war? The duty? The different ideologies? The unrequited feelings? The sense of betrayal?

"I'll live, Kenobi," she said reassuringly, attending to her wound.

Minutes of silence went by, none of them knowing what to say. What could possibly unite them that could make their bond bloom? What could be strong enough to not break them? He had never felt such a connection with anyone, he was frightened and elevated, not even with his fellow Force sensitive.

Obi-Wan criticized Satine at her time, of her idealistic thinking and her ideal way of seeing politics. She saw peace where he saw war, she saw solutions in the middle of all of his conflicts. And now it seemed that the tables had turned. Because Obi-Wan chose to see the good in a Sith like in everything else.

Would she laugh at him if she was there? Would she make jokes on him and judge him? Remind him of how impossible it is to love him? But oh! How much he wanted to care for someone at the end of the battle. 

Part of being a Jedi was to acknowledge nothing was entirely black and white, like good and evil. Someone who wants to kill you won't let you escape from his grasp. The hint was there, out in the wild to interpret for the both of them. Obi-Wan did know it wasn't the first time it happened, but didn't know when it would be the last, and as much as a relief could mean to another couple of opponents, to him the thought was too much to handle.

"You're thinking too loud," she falsely complained to tease him.

"Pardon me?", he asked, maybe too serious, too trailed away from his initial thoughts, as if she was capable of reading him the same way he had tried to read her.

"I was joking. You stayed very still with your hand on your beard like this," she imitated his pose through the device to show him the exact position he was in, which immediately made him cease from it.

"I don't look like that".

This mildly outrageous comment made her laugh, not a mischievous laughing like she used to, a pleasant sincere one, that in response made him smirk.

"But you do look like this", no one would have believed Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi could make weird gestures to a hologram, but there he was, forgetting the point of his call in the warmth of her laughter.

"That's mean even for a Jedi", her giggles were the cure for his uneasiness, a strange mix of security and danger. "How did you intercept this signal?".

Her voice pitched lower, to mask the frightening sensation that erased her hopes of hearing him admit the unspeakable, the same feelings that have been burning her heart for so many eons ago. She knew very well Jedi couldn't acquire feelings like those, as sentients as they were, they were dangerous for the mere reason of blurring the lines between love and attachment, there was no known Jedi who could love selflessly.

And yet, her darkest desire was feeling herself hanging on the lips of his secret love, General Kenobi.

Now it was Kenobi's turn to lie or speak his truth, uneasy by her sudden hostility, her way to seek for security, perhaps he would do the same in her situation.

"I— " he wavered a little. What was he supposed to say? 'I was looking for you', 'I was worried about you', 'I don't want you to get hurt', it wasn't appropriate. "Wanted to make sure you— ".

He was never at a loss of words, he always knew what to say even when he drifted his mind away from conversations, though his mind decided to stop being assertive while speaking to her.

"Make sure I?".

"Weren't dead", worry was the very first feeling which turned into fear. A sensation he didn't want to let dominate him, that he couldn't let pass.

But he couldn't help himself, didn't he? And a little corruption occurred, the first of his life, the last of his night.

It was just so alluring, the way she had him trapped into contradiction, finding affection inside aggression. When did it start that he didn't realize? That he made things for her too and made the isolated a currency, — that he was slowly bending the rules for her.

He couldn't neglect he had failed his stances to not hurt her, or that he hadn't purposefully used the Force to put things out of her way before getting herself into a fatal accident, that he —an experimented general—avoided capturing her every chance he got. An innocent mistake at first that led to a series of unconscious love games.

"How thoughtful of you", the sarcasm of her expression couldn't mask the sweet tone in which she spoke. "Why do you care?", her inquiry was actually concerned, she didn't want to escape again after finding a safe remote place with the few last credits she had only because a Jedi decided he was a good prize to show his little Council.

He seemed to think about it a little longer than expected, waiting carefully to respond to her. The right thing would be to hang up and rethink what he was doing, threaten her even if he was that daunting to make room for speculations of disgust upon her. He didn't want that. Thus he smiled, sincerely, the very same way she smiled to the poor children living on the inferior levels of Coruscant.

"Why did you save me?" he had set with that question the start of something he would not be able to control in the foreseeable future, a never ending longing.

But he needed to know. He must know, otherwise, he was afraid she would be that last thing he thought about before going to sleep, the first thing he thought about after waking up.

"Don't dare to get it wrong, mere courtesy that's all", she boldly assured, as she couldn't give herself the privilege of giving him false hopes, "if that's why you called, I suggest you to hang up". She drifted her gaze away from his holo, she was trying hard to make him leave.

Even to her that seemed like a logical action on Obi-Wan's mind, if only he wasn't too tired to comply with all the unbreakable rules and detached a little from his perfect Jedi image. 

How could Obi-Wan tell her that just because no one else can see it, he doesn't love her any less?

"I called for other circumstances" he declared carelessly, taking a seat in a meditation position now as he expected for the night to be as long as he could maintain it.

"Which are?".

"No one deserves to be alone" Obi-Wan muttered, he had made his way with words, as he had read her, she was so lonely.

"I said I'll live", she stumbled trying to get a seat.

Her wound was profound yet curable, Obi-Wan still could see her pain through the commlink, he didn't feel at ease knowing she was in another side of the galaxy in pain. So far from him, and he didn't want to think her helpless, but he did think her stubborn, she would never let him help her, so asking her to give him her location and go after her was out of the picture.

But he wished he could follow her wherever she goes.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

He was trained to believe the Jedi way wasn't a solitude path, but now that he thought about it more, it does feel lonely, although it was proven a Jedi Master never truly is.

As long as he was connected to the Force, he was connected to all beings he protects. A Jedi Master is the watcher, the caretaker, the guardian. He is not just the sword nor just the shield, he is both the light and the darkness. He is in the shadows, watching over his loved ones, supposedly protecting his allies. For years inside his mind he held this guilt on his chest, that he chose to protect his enemies, not once but twice.

Still, what was all about when no one was safe? When every being he swore to protect was now in the claws of a cruel ruler? If there was no escape? If he was the shield, where was his sword? His loved one?

She had shattered his heart by giving him that which he could never have, which he could not live without once tasted and memorized — the contentment of their conflicted companionship.

"What will you do now?" Bail asked now that Leia was gone and Obi-Wan was about to leave on his ship.

"Wait" he said calmly, "my duty won't be over until they know" this was the scary part, the fear of making the same old mistakes. A tired sigh leaving his chest.

"On Tatooine?" insisted Bail, slowly conducting his chatting to her, to free Obi-Wan from another headache and give him that last peace of mind he knew he needed, he deserved to know after all he had been through.

"I have nowhere else to go", he claimed, stroking lightly his beard, trying to remove the uncomfortable feeling of himself, without her alive, he had no reasons anymore to leave Tatooine and fulfill his duty.

"I must tell you... The side of the story you know about her is incomplete", as much as she caused problems to him in the past, he recognized how selfless she had been fighting against the empire the first few years. "She didn't die as a traitor, the Inquisitors punished her for helping a Jedi".

"What?... How?". He realized now Bail knew the reason she was caged Vader's Fortress.

"She helped Ahsoka survive an attack to arrive to Malachor where she is exiled now, Ahsoka couldn't have escaped successfully if it weren't for her, we couldn't get her out and Vader...", Bail wasn't able to end his train of thought, confusion struck Obi-Wan like a needle through his heart "I just thought you had to know".

Bail was worried to break Obi-Wan's spirits more on Anakin's actions, because the former Jedi could imagine what was going on inside Darth Vader's mind — by punishing you he was punishing him.

Obi-Wan asked who this mysterious someone was, pretending not to know who Bail was talking about before his lips pronounced your name too loud and clear to be mistaken, too loud for every corner of his body to know. His poison ivy, his rotten fruit, his lovable stinger.

Why did it have to be too late to follow her?

He nodded to him in silence and watched him leave as the ship took off. Heartbroken, he was silently content about being right about her, to put his trust and hopes in her.

He didn't know what to do on his way back to Tatooine, only how to feel, the anguish and despair, the inutility, to measure all of the things he failed to express at the right time. Was it possible that she died without knowing how much she was loved? Could the Maker be able to let such cruel condemnation happen?

When your duty is over...

Perhaps, the misunderstanding of their promise by his end, the oath he devotedly kept under his wing to be his precious secret was now one side of the cliff's whisper. Closing his eyes, he could still see her pleading eyes, the exact same eyes that made him wake up abruptly night after night.

Meet me...

At the end, she had died the way she lived, in the darkness of night.

A/N: Hi! I was working on this since I posted the previous part, I was thinking of making it a shot fic, which mean another 2 parts more coming if my imagination let me to. With that said, if you want to still be tagged do nothing, i'll keep tagging you. If you want to be added or being removed in the next parts, comment this part (no worries, i won't mind) or send me an ask (i'll keep it private) as I won't be counting just likes bc i realized its very ambiguous to know who wants to be tagged or not. Thank you so much for liking and rebbloging.

last part tags: @starry-supernova @tejabrynn @lovely-geek0 @coldheartedindividual @lavecwind @khaleesihavilliard @collectinglungs @abisexualsailormoon @zoarrivera @the-undead-robin426429 @ilikepancakesyee @curcuma-yn0t @apocalypticwafflekitten @pickleprickle @blood-spotting @thewanderingsage @lexi2005 @lportes-22 @theaternut @cosmickenobi @yelyahjennaa @chaosmir @ihaveissueslotsofissues @daithideolishmer16 @sofiastuf @atrejloi2222111 @lovesickollie @zthedoll @lillianacristina @razzel-my-dazzel22 @arixaesty @yourlovely-moon @somiaw @poopybutttttt @thedarthpancakes @peanutbuttermoony @spooky-tsunderegirl @emzyoffical @begheera @lexixwan @ellethelynx @omeletteoooo @elliewilliamslover @bellarkeselection @acupnoodle @fieryflower24 @phantomrose666 @luvskywalker @songoficecreamandfireworks @insertlamepunhehe @bitchyglitterfox @darklyndivinely @franber0 @craftypaperherringalmond @10kseniya10 @audrie-bryant @freshwombatgiantuniversity @beatr1cesblog @sprinkleskanye

If you appear on the taglist but are not tagged is probably your settings or I wrote your username wrong (which I apologize, not on purpose).

[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

[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.

[maes-flowers]

For them, For us [6] (Obi-wan x Reader)

Summary: Following the Kenobi series, two former Jedi masters Obi-wan Kenobi and Y/n Marilla are grieving the lost of Anakin, Padme, and the jedi purge. After pledging to watch over Luke Skywalker and spending ten years in exile and making a life together, what will happen when the mistakes they made in their past come back as a new threat?

Warnings: Canon typical violence but that should be it

Authors note: IM ALIVE AND BACK BITCHES ive been working on this on and off for the last few months that its gotten way longer than i was planning and I still have 14 pages that I spilt off from this for the final part and maybe a epilogue as well but I've missed this series so much and if you enjoyed this very overdue update please let me know down below!

Prologue - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

You and Obi-wan watched Leia comfort people with Lola as the explosions grew closer together, the small droid beeping happily at a little boy and his mother. She must've sensed your presence because she turned around and smiled as you waved her over.

Obi-wan kneeled on the ground as you stood behind him, when Leia walked over clutching Lola. 

“They're scared.” she said, another explosion boomed outside. “She keeps their mind off of it.”

“Maybe I should borrow her too.” Obi-wan suggested.

Leia looked at him confused.

“Why?”

You sighed and placed a nervous hand on Obi-wan's shoulder.

“Leia, Ben and I…” you swallowed nervously, this was harder than you thought it would be, Leia watched you with big eyes as you sucked in a deep breath.

“We’re going to go after Vader, but you're going to stay here.”

Leia's eyes grew wide and she shook her head in protest.

“No! No way! You can’t just leave me here!” she shouted.

“We’re the ones Vader wants. If we go he will follow.” Obi-wan explained gently.

“No, I'm not letting you!”

“Leia, please.” you begged.

Everyone was looking now, worry and fear as they heard what the two of you were planning to do. The woman who Leia was talking to moments ago now stood up and looked at you and Obi-wan confused.

“Wait, what happened to all of us staying together?!”

Another explosion went off, making you run a frustrated hand over your face before you looked at her with an exasperated look.

“Roken needs more time to fix the ship, this will give him that time!” you sighed, clasping your hands together like you were begging. “You have spent ten years protecting the Jedi, this is our chance to return the favor.”

“But we're so close!” Roken argued.

“Roken, you know this plan makes sense!” you replied grimly.

“No, we need you!” Sully now chimed in.

“It’ll buy you the time you need! You must get these people out of here, you are all the future!” Obi-wan exclaimed looking down at Leia. “You are the future! You're what's needed to survive.”

Leia looked away from his piercing gaze, you could've sworn you saw her eyes watering with tears but before you could get a decent look at her she turned around and ran away.

“No!” she shouted and ran around the corner.

“Leia!” you went to go after her but Haja intercepted and placed his hands on your shoulders to stop you.

“She needs to be given space.” Haja suggested.

“You must promise us that you'll get her home, Haja.” Obi-wan begged. “As soon as we’re in the clear.”

Haja’s gaze flickered between yours and Obi-wan's faces, and it was the most serious you've ever seen the man in the short time you knew him.

“You have my word,” he promised. “Although, I know the words of a liar and a fake jedi may not mean much to you.”

“It means everything to us,” You placed a hand on his chest and you watched as Haja’s face softened at your words. 

“Go get your things, I'll go talk to Leia.”

🖾

You were putting medical supplies in your bag when Roken walked in, holding something brown in his hands as he walked up to you and Obi-wan. There were no words spoken as he handed Obi-wan the object he was holding, once you could see the line of dashes you sniffled and gently ran your hands over the holster Tala had used in her final moments. The leather wasn't too damaged, just some scuff marks and scratches that could be repaired. You glanced up at Roken and mouthed a silent thank you, not wanting to break the moment of silence for the person you all lost. Roken pursed his lips in acknowledgment before he left the two of you alone.

Looking back down at the holster you sighed, you don't have a blaster anymore and quite frankly didn't like using one but you didn't want it to go to waste if you had brought it with you and ended up dying tonight if things went the worst way possible.

“Can you teach me how to shoot?” Leia's question to Tala coming back from the depths of your memory.

“I think we should go talk to Leia now.” you whispered looking up at Obi-wan

“I agree.”

It didn't take too long to find Leia, a perk for the smaller ship you were thankful for since there weren't many places for her to hide which led you to find her in a corner with Haja kneeling in front of her, whispering in her ear while Leia looked down at her lap. You grabbed Obi-wan's hand and placed Tala’s holester in it.

“I think you should give it to her.”  Obi-wan looked slightly surprised but he clutched it tight in his hand, a silent gesture that showed you he was thankful for the opportunity. Haja heard you talking and said one more thing before he stood up and left the three of you alone.

“Thank you Haja.” you said gratefully as he walked out.

You and Obi-wan walked slowly to Leia, who stubbornly kept her gaze on the floor as she refused to even look at the both of you.

“You said you'd take me home.” she said, bitterly.

“I wish that we could, Leia.” Obi-wan said regretfully. “Really I do.”

Obi-wan thought for a moment before he spoke again.

“Please tell your father we tried.”

Obi-wan kneeled on the ground and held out Talas' holster, handing it to Leia. she ran her small hands over the material slowly.

“Roken found it before we got out, she would have wanted you to have it.”

“It's empty.” she observed and you held back the urge to laugh as Obi-wan rolled his eyes.

“Well, I wasn't gonna give you a blaster, Leia. you're ten years old.”

He sighed.

“But you won't always be.”

You kneeled down next to Obi-wan and put your hand on Leia's leg and squeezed it gently to grab her attention. When she finally looked up at you, and you ignored the slight sting behind your eyes as you stared at her. The reality of leaving her alone and this being possibly the last time you saw your niece crashing down at you at once. Your mouth opening and closing repeatedly trying to find the words to explain what you wanted to say to her but your mind came up short. You stopped trying to talk when she jumped down from where she was sitting and came to hug you, freezing for a moment before you melted into the touch and wrapping your arms around her small frame tightly, your cheek resting on the top of her head as you sighed.

You wanted to remember every feeling of this hug, just in case it was your last. After a few more moments you forced yourself to pull away from her strong grip, and kissed her forehead.

You watched bittersweetly as she jumped into Obi-wan's arms next, his arms wound tight around her just like you did moments ago and closed his eyes for a second. When she pulled away from him she looked at both of you with pleading eyes.

“Come back…Please.” she whispered.

You and Obi-wan hesitated, it was unfair of you to promise something like that when you were so unsure on how this was going to play out, you didn't want to give her false hope.

But you couldn't say no to her, no matter how hard you tried.

“I promise.” You and Obi-wan said together.

You prayed desperately you would be able to keep that promise.

🖾

You and Obi-wan split off from each other, going to one side of the medium sized hangar below the ship as Roken prepared the dropship. You wanted to meditate to clear your mind before you left while Obi-wan attempted to speak to Qui-jon. 

Obi-wan was prepared to die if it came to it, giving his life to fix a wrong he had a part in to do what he could to fix a trail of death and destruction that has been carved in the large expanse of the galaxy over the last ten years. However, you were not prepared to lose Obi-wan or die at the hands of someone you knew long ago. No, not at all.

You were terrified.

You never questioned the Jedi when you were in the temple. the training, the robes, the almost dehumanizing set of rules in place that have been embroidered so deeply into you it could've been visible on your skin. You always believed you were the one that needed to change, the Jedi had this practice in place because they were good and if you messed up then you deserved punishment from the council themselves, and you as well as Obi-wan stood by as they broke Anakin down and manipulated him as they told him the same rhetoric they told you and Obi-wan and hundreds before you. 

Flashes of memories came to mind as you stood in the hangar of the ship, chances to make a difference, to stand up for a kid who was claimed to be the chosen one but was never given any choices of his own. A basic human right stripped away in the name of protecting peace and bringing balance to the force.

Anakin, Obi-wan, as well as yourself lost a freedom you never got to experience due to the jedi order, and even when it crumbled to the ground like a pile of sand facing a gust of wind the reprecisions of the choices you've made and the jedi order played a direct hand into giving the galactic empire its power which led you hiding away for ten years as you were hunted down for something you didn't ask to be apart of. The fear of being found and the unhealed trauma you and Obi-wan experienced held you back from truly living for yourselves and for each other.

You wanted to live in peace with him. You wanted to love Obi-wan to the point he would feel suffocated in the best way possible, to kiss him, to hug him, to bicker, to give him a part of you no one else would receive and vice versa.

You wanted to heal.

And now that the chance to do any of those things were at stake and you were scared for what is going to come next, scared to face the result of many regrets.

“You okay?”

You turned around and saw Roken, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. Nodding as you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes as if you could force the tears back into your tear ducts, clearing your throat you looked back at him.

“Yeah, I will be.” a lie filled with hope slipped out. “The dropship ready?”

Roken nodded.

“I'm about to let Obi-wan know, figured I'd grab you first.”

“Lead the way then.” 

You followed Roken to the otherside of the hangar where Obi-wan was in silence, hoping once you saw him his presence would calm you down enough for you to be able to support Obi-wan in any way he needed.

He was sitting on a supply crate, holding his lightsaber in his hands as he inspected it with unease, Most likely trapped in his own thoughts just as you were moments ago.

“Are you ready?” Roken asked him as you walked over to him, your body gravitating to his side like an unknown force was pulling you. “The dropships ready.” Obi-wan stood up, clipping his lightsaber to his belt.

“You don't have to do this, you know.” Roken said, giving one more shot at convincing the two of you to stay. “We can still fix the drive!”

“I have to go.” Obi-wan said.

Roken shook his head and stared at him for a moment.

“It's not about us, is it?” he asked. “You want to do it, it's about you and him.”

A larger explosion shook the ship hard, making you grab Obi-wan's shoulder to balance, you looked at Roken with pleading eyes.

“Keep them safe.” 

“Keep yourselves safe too.”

“Roken,” Obi-wan called out. “There are not many leaders left, but people follow you…don't stop.”

Roken smirked and shook his head.

“I'm just getting started.”

  🖾

Obi-wan set a path to the nearest planet in the outer rim, not wanting to risk going back to Jabiim where the possibility of imperials were still there. Even now he expertly avoided the shots aimed at your ship, dogging and rolling with ease. You watched out the window as the large imperial ship stopped following Rokens transport.

“Entering the atmosphere.” Obi-wan said.

Your hands curled around the armrests of the co-pilot's chair as the ship rattled roughly as you approached the planet. The next minute of rough turbulence made you hold your breath before it smoothed out and you could make out the terrain of the planet below you. The sky held a dark bluish tint above you with murky gray clouds casted out making it darker than it already was, all around were pillars of rocks tall enough they reminded you of the tall buildings of Coruscant.

Obi-wan landed the ship in a small circle of clear land and powered down the ship, his fingers moving quickly across the control pad turning off the engine. You unbuckle your seatbelt and stand up and look over your shoulder at Obi-wan. He stood up and shrugged off his robe, a loud chirping noise came from his pocket as he pulled out the object and held it up to his face.

Lola beeped excitedly at him and you and Obi-wan looked up at each other and smiled, of course Leia would find a way to comfort you both even without her being present. Obi-wan handled the small droid with care and gently placed her on the dashboard, placed his robe on the pilot's chair, and took a calming breath and opened the door.

“Obi-wan.” you called out quickly, he turned to look at you with concern. “I love you.”

You watched his face soften and he reached his hand out and rested it on your cheek.

“I love you too, starlight.” 

Nothing else had to be said, you will be happy if your final words to him were those.

A warm breeze hit your skin as the hatch door lowered, your eyes held a hard gaze at the tall rocks surrounding you as you focused your mind on the target of the soon to be fight and not your emotions. It didn’t matter if it was Anakin or Vader, only one side will make it off this planet tonight.

And you will fight until there is nothing left to ensure it was the two of you.

But you could still feel the anger, fear, and sorrow building inside of you. The control of your darkest emotions had lessened greatly since the fight on mapuzo and the fear of slipping even deeper scared you. 

You weren't sure if you could stay in the light and fight Anakin at the same time.

Reaching for Obi-wan’s hand you gripped it tightly, the force of it making him look over at you in worry. He squeezed back with even more force than you did and for a moment everything else drained away.

Then you saw a ship enter the atmosphere and you were dragged back to reality.

Sucking in a deep breath you allowed Obi-wan to drop your hand as the two of you walked down the ramp and far away from the ship to prevent any potential damage. Your boots crunched loudly on the rocky terrain below you as a cold wind swept up your gray vest. You watched in silence as his ship grew closer and closer until it landed in front of you. 

The hatch to Anakins ship opened and your hand went to the hilt of your lightsaber as a cacophony of modulated breathing filled the air as he descended down the ramp, a silhouette of black slowly coming toward you like a reaper.

Planting your feet firmly in the ground, you rolled your shoulders, hoping your  false confident stance will turn into real confidence. Your eyes flickered to Obi-wan, his blue orbs looking like a stormy gray under the dark sky as you watched his jaw tighten under the weight of his teeth as Anakin began coming towards you. You gripped your lightsaber hard enough you felt the stinging bite of the groves in the metal go into the skin of your hand as the man in black stopped a mere couple feet in front of you. 

“Have you come to destroy me Obi-wan?

The blue light from Obi-wan's saber then quickly illuminated the air around you a rich blue as  Obi-wan raised his arm in position.

“I will do what I must.”

“Then you will die!” Anakin's modulated voice bellowed as the crimson red light from his lightsaber  tainted the air around you, as he moved quickly to jam his blade into Obi-wan's jugular. You parried the blow and swung up from under and knocked your saber against his and rolled to avoid Obi-wan's strike the kickup of dust getting in your eyes as you stood and spun your saber in your hands before changing your grip to stab him in the back, the heat of your blade burned a hole into his cape before Anakin sidestepped away from you and grabbed the back of Obi-wan's neck, lighting him off the ground before throwing him at your feet. 

Obi-wan recovered swiftly and rolled onto his feet and yanked you behind him  and blocked the attack as he went for both of your heads.

You and Obi-wan knew how Anakin fought and he knew how the both of you fought which created a repetitive game of attacks that forced the three of your further into the rocky terrain of pillars and gravel below your boots leaving you unsteady as lightsaber created a rainfall of sparks as the grinding of mineral surrounding you as Obi-wan shoved Anakin back until Obi-wan raised his hand and used the force to try to throw a rock down on Anakin's head. 

Anakin easily caught the rock's weight as the two fought for control before he forced pushed the rock over your heads making shatter on impact once it landed on the ground.

“Your strength has returned.” Anakin mocked before his helmet turned to you. “But the weakness remains!” he shouted before picking up a boulder and throwing it at you, you sliced through the rock and covered your head as the pieces landed behind you.

You watched as Anakin slammed his forearm into Obi-wan's nose and the loud crack that followed, the quick blight of pain allowed him to  sweep rocks under Obi-wan making him land on his back. You ran for but went stiff as he used one hand to keep you back as Obi-wan scrambled to get footing Anakin slammed his other hand on the ground, quickly quaking and cracking before a sinkhole formed, swallowing Obi-wan.

“That is why you'll always lose!”

“No!” you screamed.

You watched in horror as boulder after boulder was thrown in after Obi-wan until the sound of his screams were buried under the rocks.  Suddenly you felt your legs get pulled to the ground and your back hit the gravel beneath you as he began to drag you with the force. Shards of rock and dirt tore the fabric of your tunic and went into your back as you dug your nails into the solid earth below you to hold yourself back.

Once you were at Anakin's feet you felt the tip of his boot slam into your stomach, you gagged at the force of air leaving you as dark spots filled your vision. You didn't have time to think before you were dragged up  a rock and shoved against it, your skull bouncing off the hard matter as you and Anakin's helmet were just a few mere inches apart.

“Did you truly think you two could defeat me?” the modulated voice hissed with detest.

You gasped and struggled in the tight grasp of his robotic hand, the warmth of blood ran down the back of your neck. 

“You have failed.” he pointed out

Adrenaline was the only thing keeping you moving, the wheeze’s from your throat loud as the pressure around your throat grew. 

“I have seen your potential, Y/n” He said. “Join me and you will no longer be a failure to people. You can be powerful and feared.”

You let out a weak laugh and shook your head.

“I would much rather be a failure trying to do the right thing than to be feared by doing something wrong.” you choked out.

Lifting your leg as high as you could, you planted your foot on the chest plate of the suit and pushed him back causing him to stumble and lose his grip on you, you fell to your feet. 

It's been too long since you had to actually calculate and analyze someone in combat and it showed. You were reacting and not thinking through your next moves. If Master Stass had seen it you would have been ripped a new one.

“Focus Y/N, what is his weakness?” you asked yourself. Stumbling forward you truly looked at Vader for the first time, not as the man you once knew but who he was now.

And he was Large

That meant he was slow, his prosthetic limbs also didn't help with that either. All you had to do was be quicker and be relentless,  give him no room to breathe let alone react.

Grabbing your lightsaber you began to sprint, pumping your legs as fast as they could go you jumped and landed on Vader's back. You slammed the hilt of your lightsaber over and over into his helmet. Forcing your anger and sorrow into every hit and not stopping when you heard a crack. 

Vader's gloved hand reached up and yanked you over his shoulders by your wrist and threw you into the ground below. You activated your lightsaber and slashed at a boulder, and quickly used the force to slam it into his chest making him stumble back. Shooting your hand out, you force pulled him back to you and spun your saber and shoved the hilt into the underside of his jaw, Vader grunted in pain as you slammed your boot into his stomach.

You were enjoying it, your anger growing and fueling your muscles to slam hit after hit into him and you grinned when you were able to slash a cut across his armored chest. It was service level but the heat from it alone had to burn the already charred flesh underneath.

But Vader grew tired of your attacks and was able to grab ahold of the nape of your neck he pushed you face first into one of the large boulders and then hauled you backwards before he shoved you forward again. You face smacking the rocks until you hear a crack in your nose.

You let out a pained shout and when he went to smack you into the rock a third time the ground below began to rumble and shift beneath you. 

The ground crumbled as an explosion of rocks exploded from the ground revealing Obi-wan climbing out of the hole he was buried in and going straight to Anakin. Taking advantage of Obi-wan reemergence you swung up and slammed your fist into his throat.  Anakin choked for a moment before he refocused on Obi-wan, His lightsaber lighting up the determined look on his face as he slashed his weapon at his former best friend, you watched in amazement as Obi-wan maneuvered quickly around Anakin and parried every attack sent down on him. The clashes of light turned the air around them a bright purple luminating the fight better than the natural glum sky above them ever could.

Obi-wan forced pushed Anakin into a rock a few feet away and you flinched at the pained shout he let out as he fell to his knees. Obi-wan raised his arms above his head and rocks lifted in the air and began to plummet them at him. Anakin slowly worked himself up from the constant blows and threw himself at Obi-wan, tackling him to the ground. 

You ignored the rubble that was embedded into the skin of your back and  sprinted towards the two of them, the limp in your step slowing you down more than you wanted to admit as you made your way to Obi-wan who recovered quickly from his fall and was standing again. His gaze shifted to you for a moment, eyes wide in adrenaline and Anakin followed his gaze that soon landed on you. Flinching when he raised his hand to use the force you waited for the pressure around your throat, you were too tired and too injured to focus on putting up a mental block from him but the crushing pain never came.

Opening your eyes you saw Obi-wan interlinked their hands and was shoving the hilt of his lightsaber into the box that rested on Anakin's chest repeatedly.You heard Anakin's desperate wheezes as he tired to fight back but more and more sparks shot out as  he rammed it harder and harder into his chest before force pushing him backwards and using a bolder to knock him down on his knees, Obi-wan panted before he sprinted and sliced his helmet. The metal burned orange near his head as Anakin kneeled to the ground, Obi-wan stumbled back away from him. Sweat and blood dried to his skin and beard. 

Where Obi-wan saw the moment to stop you couldn't, you could end this nightmare right here and the bloodshed would be over.

You reached your hand toward Obi-wans and force pulled his lightsaber out of his hands and into yours, Obi-wan snapped his head towards you as you walked right up to Anakin's kneeling form, his head was tilted down so you couldn't see his face. 

Your chest heaved as you held both lightsabers in front of his neck, the blades crossed over each other.

One move, and he would be dead.

“Y/n!” Obi-wan warned, but despite knowing you should listen to your husband you couldn't bring yourself to care.

“Was it worth it?” you seethed. “Losing everyone you loved, everything you were, for this?”

Anakin just wheezed.

The lack of response had you kick him, the force of him bringing him closer to the ground as his wheezing grew louder. You felt like you couldn't breathe, the pain was beginning to choke you and you blinked back tears and out of the corner of your eye you could see his lightsaber a couple feet away from him and you blinked.

He was unarmed.

Suddenly it was like your consciousness had gained the reins of your mind again and you realized what you were doing. 

“There's still good in him.”

You've lost too much thanks to Anakin. Your freedom, your friends, your family, and your home.

You refused to lose yourself to him as well.

Deactivating the light sabers, you looked over at Obi-wan with tears in your eyes as he stepped forward and pulled you away from his former Padawan and took back his lightsaber from your shaking hands.

Then Anakin began to laugh, weak and almost breathless as he kept his head hung low.

Until he looked up at the both of you.

“Weak and pathetic.” he seethed. “Coward!”

You and Obi-wan watched in horror as half of his charred face came into the light, burned to the point his skin looked like leather leaving him almost unrecognizable. 

Obi-wan lowered his lightsaber in shock at the state of his former brother.

“Anakin” Obi-wan called out softly.

You watched as Anakin stood up and you froze as bright yellow eyes burned into you like the fires on Mustafar.

You couldn't believe those eyes are the same one that held childlike wonder the first time he saw rain.

“Anakin is gone.” he said, his voice distorted from the modulator being damaged. “I am what remains.”

You watched Obi-wans teared up and let out a shaky sigh, his face crumbling in guilt.

“I'm sorry, Anakin.” Obi-wan cried. “For all of it.”

“I am not your failure Obi-wan.” Anakin said. “You didn't kill Anakin Skywalker.”

A twisted grin pulled at the burnt skin of Anakin's cheeks.

“I did. The same way I will destroy you and her.” he spat.

You ignored the tears that burned at your eyes, threatening to fall as Obi-wan shook his head.

“Then our friend is truly dead.”

You watched the man in front of you sway as he held his lightsaber, ready to fight again.

Obi-wan put away his lightsaber and you quickly follow suit, this fight was over. And the truth was the man in front of them both now was someone who deserved to die but despite everything you or Obi-wan couldn't bring yourself to do it.

You bit the inside of your cheek  as you looked at the man who used to be Anakin Skywalker, the little boy you held at night, helped train, cooked for, and loved like he was your own blood. 

That little boy was gone and what remained in front of you was a stranger you resented.

 “Goodbye…Darth.” Obi-wan said before he turned and looked at you and without a single word he put your shoulder around him and supported your weight as you both walked away together.

Beaten, bloody, and exhausted.

Together.

Taglist:

@luna-writes-stuff

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@ginger-swag-rapunzel

@padsfirewhisky

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[buckyarchives]

EARTHQUAKES CAN BE A FLIGHT RISK, TOO. [1/3]

modern obi-wan kenobi x female reader

w/c: 8k

!!!: obi-wan is referred to as ben. family trauma, jealous asshole men, anakin is dead and it comes up a lot.

heavily inspired by im with you by wkemep

ao3 / masterlist

“...ladies and gentlemen, can I please have your attention? We regret to inform you that the current blizzard in Chicago has delayed several flights… for more specific information, please go to the customer service desk for your respected airline assistance. We are sorry for the inconvenience.”

The airline speaker announces like a mantra to a less-than-pleased crowd at O’hare international airport. 

Watching as sun-kissed families that are more than ready to go home sit around barricaded by the feet of snow piling up on the floors, and behind and ahead of you people with permanent scowls as they come to the realization they'll be stuck in this airport for more than expected.

The line to the few customer service desks has loomed and looped around the place, from where you stand it looks like it never ends. You look forward and at the back of a pitch-black head of hair, a tall man in a suit taps his fingers on his leather briefcase and groans for the 10th time in the past few minutes, (yes, you're so bored you began to count). The snowfall outside was more of a blessing rather than a curse for you, you wear a small smile, completely unbothered by the long line ahead of you.

New Year's Eve is tomorrow, and tomorrow is your annual new year's party. 

Your friend group has done it since high school, it's like a sort of reunion, and the only thing keeping your friend group alive. It seems no matter how far apart or distant any of you've grown, everyone manages to make it back to this party. You’re sure some of the reason is for the fact the girl, your best friend, that throws it every year is absolutely loaded. You're less than excited to go this year, though.

A loud, stressed yell of a man in a tacky Hawaiian button-up makes your head shoot up. You'd been watching the family at the front desk for a moment now, the stress of the toddler whining and the teenager complaining has probably gotten to the father. You understand, yet it still doesn't give him the right to yell at the customer service attendee just doing his job. You shake your head in disappointment. 

“A bunch of barbarians.” is whispered with a thick accent behind you, loud enough to be heard but quiet enough to where it might have been directed at you. 

You think to turn around to find out, but you don’t and keep looking ahead at the father yelling and successfully keeping the line looping around the airport.

“Honestly, I can't tell if the yelling is more embarrassing or the absolutely disastrous excuse of a shirt he's wearing.” the man behind you comments and even if he isn't speaking to you, you can't stop the snort that leaves you unprovoked.

“The socks and sandals combo, I think,” you mutter back, hoping in lands. It does, a small breathy laugh comes from the man behind you. Smiling to yourself, you still haven't turned around, yet.

You do - instead - shift your eyes to the large windows. The world is covered with snow and the bright lights of the city. A dystopian feeling washes over you that you're sure only comes from being at an airport this late, or so early in the morning. Time is irrelevant in the sense you only need to know how long it will take you to grab gum and some caffeine while also being able to make it to your boarding gate on time. 

You snicker to yourself, accepting the fact you'd be completely okay with your flight being canceled or missing your boarding time. 

The line erupts into chaos, it happens so quickly. The Hawaiian shirt must have blown his top, taking a step back and causing a domino effect to the line. The businessman with no bits of patience falls back on you and before you can even get a yelp out, hot coffee pours down your sweatpants and solid arms brace your fall. 

The world moves on though, everyone's eyes don't stop looking annoyed, at their phones or flight board. The man in the Hawaiian shirt continues to yell, and apparently, so do you.

“Asshole! I spent a good 4 dollars on that!” you push yourself out on the arms of the mystery funny man behind you and barrel forward like a goddamn tank, you'd barely got a few spits out of that drink! Grasping at his shoulder to get his attention, the man whips back fast.

“You got your coffee on my shoes, you bitch!” his finger raises to your face, he's tall. You should feel intimidated but irritation blinds you and your rage doesn't stop your shouts.

“Me! You're the one with no sense of surroundings and bumped into me!”

“Listen here, young lady – “ he begins to step into your space, tower over you and fear suddenly washes over you. Flinching as his pointer finger waves around, you shut your eyes and an arm from behind you brushes past your shoulder. 

Blinking your eyes open, 5 fingers are spread out and pushing the businessman back, whose gaze is looking past you now.

“Please back off the girl, sir.'' His voice is stern, an interesting contrast to the sarcastic tone from moments ago. It sends a chill down your spine and you haven't even seen his face yet. 

Your eyes trailed from his hand down to his cream hoodie sleeve, slowly he steps in front of you and between the man. You notice his side profile, a large mole on his cheekbone and then the back of his sandy blonde hair as he speaks to the man.

“Do you know how much these shoes cost? Just for coffee to be spilled all—”

“I suggest you settle down, turn around or you'll have to argue about your cheap shoes to airport security,” he speaks with a stern, calm tone. “And with this layover, you do not want to be stuck in airport security.”

You're not sure if it was the threat itself or the intimidating aura this man suddenly gave off, but the businessman turns around with a stank in his eyes and a grumble leaving his lips. You're impressed, to say the least.

“Are you alright?'' The sandy blonde hair turns around once the threat is seemingly gone, his voice is less stern and replaced with a surface-level worry. You notice his eyes, they're piercing through you. 

Your fingers run down your wet pants, it's warm but bearable, not noticeable. 

“Uh, yes, I think so.” just startled and damp, you almost say.

“I'll get you another cup of coffee once we survive this line,” his Atlantic blue eyes dart from your hands to the head of the line, and then back to you.

“You don't need to, you weren't the one to bump into me.” you wave his offer off, “anyways, you did enough with that dude.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, with a surprising amount of concern in his voice for a stranger that literally fell into him.

“Yes, I'm sure,” you say, suddenly feeling like a deer in headlights as he stares at you. You reach your hand out, offering your name.

His smile catches you off guard, it's warm and reaches his blue irises, and the sides of his eyes crinkle. It's genuine and very, very pretty. 

“Ben Kenobi, it's nice to meet you.”

The line moves, thankfully, and you're reminded of the fact Ben had technically stolen your spot. He notices as well.

“Oh, dear. I’m sorry, I didn't mean to step in front of you.'' He gently pushed you in front of him, with a gentle hold on your upper arm. His hands are impossibly warm, you don't like physical touch, much less from a stranger at an airport. But this was okay. He coughs and you turn around, he might as well disappeared then, except for the fact his presence loomed over you to an uncomfortable extent. 

Time is still irrelevant and you notice how quickly the line begins to move now, the airport has seemed to get a grasp on the situation as the flight plan board begins to flicker with dots of green and another customer service worker starts a new line. You almost forget about your coffee-soaked pants until you begin to move to break off into a new line, conveniently having a suitcase full of clothes. 

The boy behind the desk looks barely eighteen, maybe just a babyface. Either way, you can tell the stress of the situation is getting to him. His ears and cheeks are tinted red in stress and his eyes dart wildly in anxiety, you do your best to be considerate. 

As he begins to punch in the number for your flight, you wait patiently, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Ben at the desk next to yours. Glancing over, he glances back with those piercing blue eyes. Have you ever seen something so blue? You smile kindly, one of those smiles you give to someone whom you're not friends with, but not strangers. It's fitting. 

“Thank you for your patience, ma’am.” you hear, he clears his throat and you notice his anxiety diminishing. “We are still watching the blizzard before we can get a confirmed time of departure for your flight from Chicago to San Diego. Please be patient and keep watch on the flight information boards and announcements going forward. We are terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”

You nod and thank the man for his help, he smiles at you, watching his shoulders slack a little. Honestly, you'd rather stay camped out around cranky kids than step foot in the state of California right now. You have no complaints and an unusual bounce in your step as you go to find a place to rest until you hear more news about your flight.

A part of you wonders why you even agreed to go this year, a moral obligation to the unspoken tradition that's been going on for over a decade now? Probably. To see your best friend? You see her normally, you don't need a stupid New years party to see her. You know he will be there and just for that fact you're dreading it. 

Seeing him by choice should be considered self-harm at this point. Especially since the last time you saw him, because you know once you see his stupid smile the cycle will repeat and you'll be head over heels. Your eyes dart back to your flight schedule. Delayed. Good.

Your name is shouted from behind you, faintly you hear it and have to let yourself hear it again before turning around. Ben comes walking close with a military backpack slung over one shoulder. He's still calling out your name before you ground yourself enough to respond.

“Hey, Ben. Updates on your flight?” 

He shakes his head and wears a bittersweet smile, he doesn’t seem so down about the blizzard either. You wonder for a moment if he too is versed in the art of balancing on earthquakes just to fall, because that's what this is, whatever you're doing right now. 

“Nope, off to terminal D to wait it out.”

Your eyebrows perk up in surprise, “terminal D, huh?”

“Would that be where you're headed as well?” he catches on, the end of his lip quirked up slightly. You notice the freshly groomed beard. It suits him but you also notice the razor cuts lower on his neck, it makes you want to laugh.

“It would be.”

“In that case,” his eyes darted to the terminal entrance, a sense of familiarity was in his eyes. “I think you should let me buy you a new coffee.”

Wow, this man is stubborn.

An amused smile paints your face, and you almost laugh. Not sure why. Thinking to protest, but you remember a conversation you had with your therapist. Looming over your shoulder telling you to say yes to good things more, even if you believe you don't deserve it. This could be a good thing, or this could be nothing and you steal a latte from this man and never see him again. Either way, caffeine does sound good. 

“Okay, Ben. Lead the way,” you say and Ben smiles, he tells you there's an okay coffee shop in this terminal he swears by. You trust him and watch the back of his head as you walk down the terminal. 

Your palms are slick as you grasp at your suitcase handle, the clicking sound as the wheels hit the grooves in the airport floor turning to white noise. Trying to cast out any thoughts of this party, or actually attending it.

“Where are you going? If you don't mind me asking,” he asks, the sounds of the world come rushing back and Ben’s walking next to you now. 

He must have slowed his steps for you, his eyes are still so blue even under the dull lights. You didn't realize you made it to the cafe already. It smells warm of vanilla, a stark contrast from the artificial smell of cleaning products the rest of the airport gave off. Ben is still looking at you.

“San Diego,” you answer plainly as you step into line. Two blonde-haired teen girls stand in front of you, giggling about something. In Front of them is a college-aged student with heavy bags and headphones over her ears, she's ordering something with too many shots of espresso.

Ben laughs, “Me too. La Jolla.”

“Clairemont.” 

A beat of silence. Ben rocks on his feet and puts one hand over the other in front of him, his eyes darting to the menu. “What will you be having?”

You hum, overwhelmed by all the options. Maybe this is the time to try something new, you think. 

“just an iced latte with espresso.” old habits die hard. You always get that drink, no matter the cafe, no matter the state, no matter if a handsome and polite stranger offers to buy you anything you’d like. Maybe you should have gotten a matcha or a cappuccino to make yourself more interesting.

“Alright.” he nods. 

“Thank you,” you mutter.

“It's no problem,'' Ben smiles and it's so genuine, it feels strange to be on the receiving end of such a genuine smile from a man you met only a few moments ago. “If you want – you can grab a table or change out of those pants while I order.”

You look down at yourself, the sweatpants are practically dried now and you really didn't feel like digging through your bag in the middle of this cafe. “Thank you, again.”

Ben just nods and you roll your suitcase and yourself to a table, it's sitting next to the glass window and looking at a middle-aged man passed out on a bench. You hope he doesn't miss his boarding time. A group of adults with fruity drinks laugh together, surrounded by luggage. 

your fingers brush your hair out of your face, taking a deep breath in and just settling, only for a moment. Glancing back to the front, Ben is ordering and the barista has a smile on his face. With a look of familiarity in his eyes as he speaks to Ben, it's obvious they are speaking about more than just coffee order, he must be an old friend. 

Quickly, the unknown but apparently familiar barista glances towards you, and back to Ben's face once he notices you were looking too. That was embarrassing. His face is painted with surprise, and happiness when he looks back to Ben, just before you could look away and dwell on your own life. 

Ben comes walking back, you sit up straighter so maybe he doesn't get the impression your rethinking all your life choices up to now. You know? Bad first impressions and all. 

Well, you may have already checked that box now. Great.

“So,” he smiles, setting two cups down. A piping hot chai with lavender and honey and your drink, a simple latte. “What's in San Diego that you've decided to travel to during a blizzard?”

“Uh,” you stutter, do you lie so as not to get into the dread of why you wish to not be going? Hmmm, he is a complete stranger as well. “Well, I didn't technically choose to travel during this. Mother nature as her own mind.”

Ben chuckles, “That is true, I guess.”

“A party.” you spit out. “A New Year's party, I've had it every year since sophomore year.” 

“Oh, college or high school?”

“High school.”

He sits back, an amused smile, maybe even a little shocked as you’re in your early 30s now. “Wow, long-time tradition.”

“Yeah.” you breathe, sipping at your latte. It is pretty good, you are glad you followed this stranger into this cafe. Better than Starbucks, god, you could roll your eyes.

“Excited?”

Your eyebrows furrow, “excuse me?”

“Are you excited about the party?” he clarifies.

Are you this out of your mind? Nothing feels real right now.

You pause, almost choking on your own words. Do you lie? 

“Yes.” you keep it short and simple, gritting your teeth.

Ben hums, seeming not too convinced. You had never been a good actor before.

“Sorry,” you say before Ben could even ask if you were lying, “I'm not good at small talk.”

“That so?” his eyebrows quirks up, “big talk then. What first? Politics? Religions? The meaning of life? Pineapple on pizza?”

You smile, “It's criminal, fruit doesn't belong on pizza.”

“Oh, have you tried it?” a cheeky grin falls to his face and he leans forward. 

“I don't feel I need to, I know it will taste horrible,” you say.

Ben just laughs at you and it's warm and genuine and it's nice enough to wear it rings in your ears and for a moment, muffles out any thought of him. You think, maybe you can get used to this. Once again, your eyes find the world around you and you begin to notice more and more stressed passengers scrambling for their brains and flight times. You sigh, a part of you wishes you could care so much. 

Ben observes everything too, he looks almost nostalgic. You've known this man for only twenty minutes and he's been the most interesting or mysterious man you've encountered in a while. You're not sure which word is best to describe him yet, you haven't decided.

“All hell is going to break loose soon, we’ll have to make a game plan,” he says, deadly serious and it makes you smile. It's never been that easy.

“Game plan?”

“Of course.” Ben sits up straighter. “We’ll need to find food, shelter, chargers, and entertainment. In order of importance.” 

The question slips off your tongue, “You seem familiar with this, do you travel a lot.”

An emotion flashes across his face, it's unknown to you, but it didn't seem very positive. You'd wish you held your tongue, instead, you sip your coffee.

“Somewhat, more as a kid than now.” you're trying not to overanalyze the way he sounds sad when he said that like it was a pain to come back. It's probably nothing. You sip your coffee again and so does he. 

Ben's eyes glance to the clock, “well, we should probably get to it.”

It's funny, you don't realize this now but the way he doesn't need to ask, or you need to request teaming up on surviving the O’hare international airport blizzard. But you do, you get up and follow him again as he begins to ask you about your favorite food, if you're vegan or gluten-free. Maybe it is the bonding over coffee and assholes that molded this, an unspoken bond within 30 minutes. It's quite impressive, you think. 

You just hope he doesn't turn out to be creepy or some serial killer luring you in with his charm and blue eyes, it seems like a recipe for another Ted Bundy. But within those piercing blues, you see kindness and a sort of pain you would only be able to recognize in yourself. Maybe you have a strong intuition, or maybe you're stupid, but you continue to follow him into a small convenience store. 

The air still smells like a cleaning product, you catch a whiff of garlic when you walk past a certain aisle and then cold air once you reach the back. You grab a water and soda, a few strides to the right and you turn around, one thing of pringles and gum. You look up and see Ben's hair bobbing up and down as he walks down another aisle, just before he shows himself in front of you with handfuls of his own snacks. 

“All good?” he asks you, checking up on you. It's sweet.

“Mhm.”

The cashier rings you both up, once again, Ben knows the cashier.

“Haven't seen you around her in awhile, Ben.” her raspy voice speaks, she looks to be in her 60s with a head of shoulder-length gray hair. She balanced red glasses on the tip of her nose and wears a soft, apologetic smile as she greets him.

“Can't stay in Chicago forever,” he says, you think about what that means. He said he traveled a lot. Maybe you think too much.

Her hand grazes over the bag of m&m’s, the yellow-colored pouch ones with peanuts. Her face goes sour, a stark and surprising contrast from the happy customer service mask you recognize. She holds them in front of her like it was a flaw, but she doesn't say anything and lets Ben notice it first. He does.

“Oh,” he says, almost like he surprised himself that'd picked them up and carried them all the way here. “Habit. I'll put them back.”

Habit? 

You watch the interaction with a solid confusion from start to end, feeling like an outsider watching from within, an inside joke you can’t seem to grasp. From the apologetic, embarrassed, and solemn faces – it definitely isn't funny though. Ben speeds up, grasping the package all too tightly with his eyes trained on the ground and then he disappears around in isle.

The cashier looks back at you, she doesn't know you but she knows Ben. She smiles, it's a sad smile and she understands your confusion.

“They were his little brother’s favorite.” is all she says, you're still confused and your brain urges you to ask more. It feels way too personal though, and Ben is already back with empty hands.

He pays, you pay. You try not to think too hard about what it means and why she looked so sad telling you that, you don't think to ask either.

________________________________

Ben's palms are hot and sweaty as he wipes them on his pants, he's doing better. He's talking to new people, new people being a very pretty stranger during a flight delay. Only one small slip-up, it wasn't his fault really, muscle memory because normally Anakin would kill him for not getting his m&m’s. Maybe he should have just bought them anyway.

He passed the terminal D sign, he could navigate this place blind. Your railing close next to him looking around curiously, shelter. That was the next part of the game plan. 

“Over here,” he mutters, glancing at you. Show you a mostly deserted corner, a free outlet (rare), and close enough to a flight board so each of you'd be able to keep up to date. Not like Ben really wants to see those red words turn green, shamefully. 

You settle in, you drop your backpack, and park your suitcase against a wall. Ben goes straight for the outlet with his charger, got to hog them before any iPad kids can. You follow and sit next to him on the large window sill, his phone buzzes alive and he's met with a picture of Leia and Luke crawling onto his shoulder. It was when they were only 5 years old and they'd taken a trip to the beach for Ben's birthday, it was also the last time he'd seen either of them. He bites back a frown. 

“Cute kids.” your voice brings him down to gravity, and his head started spinning in the convenience store. Forgetting you were looming over his shoulder. “They yours?”

“Oh, no.” Ben gulps, “my niece and nephew, they're twins.”

You just smile and not, not saying anything else. 

“You should probably change out of those pants. Do you have something else to change into?” Ben asks, eyeing your stuff.

“Oh, yeah. Thank you for reminding me.” you jump down from the window sill and zip open your suitcase. Ben watched as you rummage through your clothes to pull out a pair of black shorts, “I'll be right back, save my spot?”

“Of course.” 

And you headed to the restrooms. 

Ben looks back down at your wide-open suitcase, he's not nosey or creepy, but he notices the short and sparkly dress laid out on the top. It looks incredibly fancy and even a little skimpy. He thinks you'd look pretty in it.

You come back in no time, legs on displacement and Ben notices your beat-up converse, little doodles along the soles. Ben smiles to himself. 

“Do you mind if I ask?” the words leave his mouth without permission, and he glances back to the sparkly fabric absolutely intrigued. He's probably crossing some personal line right now, but his mind can't stop thinking of your face - compared to now, at least – when he asked if you were excited. You say yes with a disappointed look while sitting in a long line knowing your flight will be delayed with a satisfied look in your eyes. It's curious, but Ben thinks he understands fully.

 “Are you actually excited for this party?” 

You look like you've been hit with a brick, for a stranger to be able to suspect your real emotions so well, to be able to read you, to detach that carefully crafted method of acting. You look down at your shoes, clench your fist and look back up at him. Smiling, it's not genuine, but it's what he would call a smile, “no, not really.”

Ben nods, he understands.

You huff and shoulder slack, sitting next to him. The secrets out and the boulders on your shoulder begin to lift, slightly. The overbearing weight that you could still be eating on a slight soon still hangs heavy over your head. 

“It's horrible, but I was actually so excited to find out about my flight delaying.” you laugh to yourself, it's self-depreciative. “It's just…” the words begin to slip out of your mouth, “I've known these people forever and obviously, you go through a lot with people you've known that long, but we still make an obligation to go to this party no matter what. This year though, some of my relationships with people there are a bit shakier than usual.”

“I understand,'' Ben breathed out. His voice shakier than usual, now he won't let the water break the damn, he's sure of it.

“You do?” you light up ever so slightly, looking at him with sudden curious eyes. A sense of understanding and someone to bear your burdens with, your shoulders look even more relaxed. Ben wants to curse at himself when he notices your lip quirked up when you start to speak. “What troubles face you on the other side of this stupid flight.”

Maybe he won't let himself crack, maybe.

Ben gulps, “Yes, uh.” he thinks, should he? “My family–”

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.” You seem cautious, but Ben would be a hypocrite if he didn’t even vaguely explain his situation after you practically spilled your guts in the wonderfully terminal D of O’hare international airport. “I know how some family drama can be.”

“No, it's okay.” he laughs off your incredible consideration, breathing heavily. Why does he do this to himself? Just don't mention Anakin, he tells himself that it's going to make any difference once he opens his mouth. The damn always breaks. 

You nod and sit patiently, attentively and it makes Ben's chest thump. What is wrong with him? He frowns with pink-tinted ears because what good has come from learning to pretend? 

“My sister-in-law and I don’t have the greatest relationship, currently…” Don't mention him, don't say his name. “So I haven't seen my niece and nephew for a while.” your eyes widen, not because of the simple fact of what he said. No, you feel bad about asking, obviously, it's a sore subject. You think you should have known, but you didn't. “And no good has really come from that either, I've pretty much been digging myself a hole with her and the kids over the past few years and well, their tenth birthday is in a few days so I'm trying to make steps to apologize for my absence.”

You don't say anything, but you understand. Ben can tell by the way you're looking at him, you know there more though. You don’t push or prod, you wait.

“But it's very scary, as you can tell,” he says, avoiding eye contact and looking at his sweaty palms, he's still sitting on the window seal with blinking city lights just past you two. The cold feeling on the large glass panels calms him and single-handedly keeps him back from breaking down. Ben learns to find comfort in the dangerous blizzard, strange, isn't it? He's never liked the cold before.

“I feel guilty for being happy about the delay, I should be excited to see them.”

A beat of silence, he shouldn't have said that. A failure of an uncle, a bad listener, and a bad person. He's just laying it all out too, ironic. Just as he called himself a hypocrite.

“Well all my best friends are at this New years party and you don't see my moping around about this flight delay, hm?” you say like it's just that easy, maybe it should. “Don't feel too guilty, you are nervous, you're human.”

You're human.

______________________________________

It's been an hour, you think.

Actually, you're not sure about it all. having not checked the time in a while, much more occupied by beating Ben at uno. It's been borderline embarrassing having handfuls of cards as he yells uno for the 8th time. But hey, you're learning things about each other whilst doing it, and how bad is getting to know a charming, handsome stranger with a toothy grin even if he's absolutely killing you with +four cards.

“Uno!” you look up to see a cheeky grin and unfortunately, one uno card in his hand.

“You have to be cheating!” you murmur.

“Sorry, I'm just very good at reading people.” he quips back and you hate the shine in his eye as he speaks, it's making it very hard to be mad at him.

“You know, if the shoe fits.” you nervously put down a green five, eyes glancing up at him as Ben watched you intensely. His face is empty and calm, but Ben puts down his last card and you erupt into a pained groan. “This is horrible for me!”

Ben just laughs softly, grabbing the deck of cards and yours and beginning to shuffle them once more. You originally planned to sleep off or even finish that book you've long neglected during this delay, anything to not think, but this. This was an alternative you were okay with. 

Most of the airport got the memo, keeping watchful eyes on the flight information and listening ear to the announcer. For those that could – slept, read, snacked away. Parents did anything to keep their children quiet or entertained. It was a sort of humility you'd only ever see during such a situation, it helped the doom brewing in your chest.

“So what did you say you did for a living?” you ask, as Ben hands you another seven cards.

A new discovery was made soon after you got to know Ben. Small talk is much more bearable whilst multitasking, so those awkward beats aren't filled with even more awkward little “interesting” or “that's so cool,” which are most of the time, very ingenuine. 

But the small talk you started with had slowly snowballed into big talk, or whatever Ben has called it in the cafe. You'd learned Ben's favorite color was blue, he was thirty-nine. obviously, he's very good at uno. That one you figured out on your own, besides that, it's been purely basics. 

“Well, I am currently unemployed.” Ben swallows, putting down a red nine.

You put down a red-three, “almost forty and unemployed. You're brave.”

“Are you shaming unemployed people?” he deadpanned and his certain sarcastic demeanor makes you giggle.

“No! I've been there once, you know,” you add, leaning back to get a good view of your cards before getting another down. “I just mean, what do you do with your life?”

“Mope.”

“Be serious, Ben!”

“Okay, okay.” he settles, putting down another card. “I am currently living off the government's money, army back pay. I read books, and visit cafes. Read books in cafes, draw pictures in them too, but only sometimes.”

“Army?” that would explain the military bag, the non-humanly straight posture, and definitely the traveling.

Ben looks away, almost embarrassed when he speaks, “Twenty years.”

You want to gawk, but that'd be rude. Should you say thank you for your service? Based on his demeanor now, you don’t think that's a great idea. It's always forced and no one really means it anyways. 

Instead, you ask probably an even worse question. “Why'd you leave?”

Ben's figure taps rapidly on his card in hand, he's trying his best to keep eye contact with you but you can tell it's hard for him. You regret asking him that, maybe you should have stayed in your comfortable small talk area.

“My brother,” Ben starts, barely holding himself together by grasping at the uno card. “He passed almost 10 years ago and I decided then I would leave since he had just had children.”

Oh, that’s what the moment in the convenience store was about. You think about this place and everyone that seems to know him, assuming they knew his brother as well. This airport must bring some conflicting memories.

“That was very considerate of you, Ben.” You answer honestly, your mouth feels dry as the syllable leaves his mouth. 

“It was hard.” Ben looks down at his hands and shuffles the few uno cards in his hands. “I’m not a patriotic person but the military was my life. I left to help my brother's wife and didn’t realize I would need help after making that decision.”

There’s a beat of silence. You feel an uneasy rage for Ben, rage towards the corrupt military system and how it treats its veterans. That’s definitely something that can be hashed out another time. 

“I failed her.”

It scares you how sincere and accepting he is of the phrase that he spoke, too comfortable with his failings like it’s a second skin. 

“What are you doing?” You ask softly.

Ben's head shoots up, confused, caught off-guard. “What?”

You nod ahead, urging his response because you know he heard you.

“I, uh,” Ben stutters for the first time since you’ve met, which arguably, isn’t that long. “I’m getting on a plane, to see my nieces and nephew for their birthday.”

You smile, not bothering to say anything, hoping he gets what you were getting at. Maybe you’re an optimist for everyone but yourself, or a fool. Ben looks ahead at you, intense eye contact grows and you feel his stare in your stomach. It’s strange. 

Ben knows what you’re saying, knows that you see he’s trying, and do not believe he’s a failure. You see it, and you’ve known him for less than a day. Scary.

“Uno.” 

Ben looks down at your hands and sees one card, he smiles.

_______________________

“Do you have any pets?” 

A few more hours pass, and an empty uno card and another solo trip for caffeine later. The careful question games continue.

“No, but I used to have a husky.”

You gasp, almost choking on your spit since the dynamic of hanging your head upside down off a bench didn’t agree with that exasperation. “That’s so cool.”

“She was very pretty,” Ben says, he sounds a little occupied but not annoyed. It’s nice and helps with your overwhelming boredom. “Do you?”

“I wish,” you say. “I think my landlord would crucify me, my plants will suffice.”

“Do you name them?” 

“What?”

Ben laughs like he knows the question itself sounds a little ridiculous. “Do you name your plants?”

“No, I don’t think I’d be able to keep track.” You look at Ben from the corner of your eye, he lay covered in a tan-colored shawl. 

The airport had started to grow chilly and your choice of camping out by the large windows maybe wasn’t too practical, the pretty lights make up for it. Ben looks comfy, his black sweats and crème colored sweatshirt make him look too good, way too good. A man that knows color theory is dangerous. Hoping he doesn’t notice your lingering glances.

“I’m assuming you name your plant then.” You taunt.

“Oh, yes.” He pauses to yawn, “any sane person would.”

“Are you calling me insane?” You spring up, blood rushing to your head and leaving you a little dizzy. Shooting playful daggers at Ben, failing to hide the quirk on the corner of your lip as you speak.

“What? Never.” He’s dripping with sarcasm. Rolling your eyes, you get to your feet and make small strides to sit next to Ben.  

“I thought about being a landscaper,” Ben adds.

“Oh, so you like plants that much?”

He chuckles under his breath, “I guess you could say that. Being able to design spaces and make nature more beautiful than it already is – deeply interests me.

“I say go for it.”

Ben's head cranes and he looks at you, looking for something in your features. He must have found it because he looks satisfied when he turns away and says, “I might have to.”

Ding!

Both of your heads shoot down to your phone as it lights up, just some random email, probably about work or some store you signed up for sending you more 30% coupons. 

“Are those your friends?” Ben says, eyes still looking at your phone. Not the email, your wallpaper. In photos from last year's party, everyone sat on the couch, some on the floor in front, and some laying on the back above everyone. “I’m sorry if I’m being nosy.”

“It’s okay,” you laugh, despite the sting in your chest thinking about the memory. It’s fair though, considering you were in the same scenario earlier, prodding about his life and generally being nosy. You had forgotten that photo was even in your wallpaper album, the phone turns off and back on to re-notify you of the email, and a new photo is replaced. “And yes, those are my friends.”

“You seem awfully happy and close to dreading this trip,” Ben adds.

“We are close but,” you drag out, contemplating your words. Bens watching you so attentively, almost zoned in on your face and lips. His eyebrow quirks with curiosity and anticipation.

“But?” Ben prods, not that you mind.

“It’s stupid.” You drop your head shamefully.

“I doubt that.”

“You’ll laugh.”

“Oh, I doubt that even more.” He says under a breathy life, an amused smile dances on his lips.

“You’re laughing right now!” You accuse him, but Ben's eyes dance around your face first, looking for something. His mouth opens to speak, he knits his eyebrows and draws back.

“Excuse me then, I’m serious and definitely will not laugh,” Ben says, you want to smack the grin on his face.

You also really want to know what he was going to say before that statement.

Groaning, “Fine.”

You breathe in once and another out, “there’s this boy, we’ve had a complicated relationship for many, many years now. Last year it kind of all came to a stop after some… decisions. We haven’t spoken for a year now and I’m just, I don’t know, dreading seeing him.”

Ben hums, and you watch for a response. For him to laugh for being so stressed out over such a silly reason, especially in comparison to his problems. Not that it’s a competition. 

“That’s certainly not stupid.”

You want to roll your eyes, sarcastically you murmur, “Sure.”

“I’m serious,” Ben affirms. He does sound incredibly serious, you shift nervously in your seat. Your knee brushing against his thigh as you sit with your legs crossed, Ben tenses slightly. “Don’t undermine your feelings. I understand your nervousness, I know I do not know the full story but may I share some advice?

“No one is stopping you.” 

Ben yawns once more, excusing such actions before continuing. “This boy, no matter what experiences you’ve had, he’s just a boy. I don’t think you should put so much weight on it and let him ruin your happiness. You shouldn’t worry too much about the past, it’s happened and you can’t change it, focus on the now.”

You snort, “Easier said than done.”

Ben makes a sound of agreement before facing you, leaning in way too close. He raises a hand and taps the temple of your forehead, “It's all up here, once you put in the work, your mind will fill in the blanks and adapt.”

You feel his breath as he speaks, much less focused on his words of advice and rather trying not to drown in the pair of Atlantic blue’s absolutely staring you down. You feel vulnerable and stripped down under his glare, but warm and seen. 

With another yawn, Ben and you share another knowing glance. “I think your mind wants to sleep, Ben.”

Ben purses his lips, as to protest before realizing he is defeated. Before he can reply, you reassure him, “I’ll watch your flight.”

So you do, and Ben sleeps. Pretty quickly he had fallen asleep and your shoulder burned when eventually his head dropped on it. You didn’t mind, quite the opposite, it was just a new sensation you weren’t mentally prepared to hash out in the particular circumstances. 

Looking down you see his scruff, sandy hair with blonde highlights that look way too tempting to run your hands through. His lashes are long, you're jealous. The colors he wears make him look warm and comfy, you see a scar on his forehead and cheekbone, next to his

Mole. If you looked closer and maybe if it wasn’t winter, you’d see freckles littered across his nose.

Thinking about how he called himself a failure, kept his niece and nephew as his wallpaper despite how long it’s been since he’s seen them. You wonder what his plants' names are and if he has a favorite, you hope he gets to become a landscaper. Imagining him in a cozy sweater, at some warm cafe with a cappuccino and sketchbook drawing beautiful gardens and decorated patios, just to turn them into reality.

You fully understand what you're doing is a dangerous game, you know this routine in and out. The wondering, the gawking, and imagining. You’d always romanticize and fill in gaps with romance, it’s what brought you to your current dilemma. Now you sit with a stranger, in a Chicago airport with him sleeping on your shoulder as you imagine yourself sitting across from him in coffee shops.

_______________________

“....Flight 213 to Clairemont airport is boarding at terminal D, gate 2….”

You shifted your head, eyes blinking open to the fluorescent lights above you. 

“Last call for flight 213 to Clairemont airport is boarding at terminal D, gate 2….”

That's your fight, you sprung up, not realizing your head has been resting on a still-asleep Ben’s lap. His neck rolled back onto the edge of the uncomfy airport benches. You ruffled your hair, looked at your watch. You'd been asleep for maybe an hour, your eyes searched for your flight on the board. It was indeed boarding, finding Ben's shortly after. You would probably jump out of a plane right now if you missed it because you fell asleep.

 Ben needs to see his family and if you're the cause of that not happening… you'd never forgive yourself. Your eye found the number 215, Still delayed, which is still unfortunate but good for now. 

You wished you had time to bask in the innocence and calmness on Ben's face before having to wake him up, you were on a time schedule though. 

Gently placing a hand on his shoulder, the fabric of his sweatshirt was way too inviting. “Ben, Ben, come on sleepyhead. Wake up, Ben,” you spoke softly, you saw his eyes begin to lull open.

“Anakin?”

Your eyebrows knotted, reeling back, “What? Ben, wake up. I have to go.”

“Anakin, i'm sorry.” his voice was rough from sleep, and sorrow filled. His voice almost cracked in his dreamlike state.

Looking at your watch again, You need to go, but you weren't inconsiderate enough to leave without saying something. Your hand grasped his shoulder and shook him gently, his eyes shot open and his breath caught up. For a moment, you wondered if you should mention the name, better not. 

The life came back to Ben, frantically looking around to check where he was before his eyes found you, fully conscious this time. His name left his lips quietly.

“I have to go, they did the last call,” you babbled, beginning to gather the small amount of things you had out. Phone, charger, snacks… check, check, check.

Ben was shifting awake and to his feet above you, you noticed him peering at the flight plans as well. “Uh, do you need any help?” he came to your aid as you somewhat frantically stuffed and zipped your bag up.

You found yourself stuck in a gaze with him again, his eyebrows were slightly furrowed with sleep still lingering and he swallowed nervously. Suddenly, your mouth felt cotton dry. 

“Don't forget what I told you, okay?” 

Your chest feels heavy, a strange feeling creeps up your neck that makes your stomach feel uneasy. Reeling up and preparing for this to end, like some fucked up story or abruptly ended song. Slick palms grasp your backpack strap and suitcase handle, as you now stand face to face.

“I won't.” you swallowed, “thank you, Ben.”

Ben smiles, it's small but so genuine and so sweet that your teeth begin to ache.

You think it's appropriate to say goodbye now, but it feels wrong, so wrong. Maybe you’re selfish and the thought of saying bye to him despite the circumstances leaves a bad, yearning feeling in your mouth and doom deep in your chest. 

“Good luck,” you decide, the implication doesn't hurt any less but it feels like you're letting yourself down easier.

“And to you too.” Ben nods.

You begin to turn and find your gate. It feels like your body hit a brick wall, your knees don't move except to let you turn around and look back.

One last look.

“Hey, Ben,” you say, and god, his eyes are piercing. Even with so many feet between you, this was a dangerous tightrope you were balancing on now. “You haven't failed anyone, and don't dig yourself a hole and give anyone a reason to think you have, yeah?”

“I promise.”

Then, you turn back around and prepare for the flight ahead.

-

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