#HOLD ON I JUST NOTICED OBI’S TEARS DOWN HIS CHEEKS WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME

[fighting-and-drawing]

Heart of the Warrior Chapter 9: Sempre Lembrado

Fandom: Cybird Ikemen Sengoku

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Yukimura Sanada x Male!OC

     The stinging on his right cheek was the only thing he could feel—the only thing he could think about. He was leaning towards the ground, his trembling fingers grazing the tender flesh of his cheek as his eyes met back up with a livid Yukimura. His face as red as his clothes and his eyes as fearsome as a tiger's, Yukimura loomed over Thai with only one thing in his mind.      "Where are you really going?" Yukimura growled softly, trying to hold back his anger.

     "Y-Yuki..." Thai muttered as he stood back up. "What're you—"

     Thai was suddenly backhanded again hard by Yukimura, nearly sending him to the ground. "Answer me!" he shouted, grabbing Thai by the arm and yanking him up to eye level. Thai hesitated to speak, his brain rattling, only to end up being shoved against a nearby wall. "Where are you going to go after tonight, Thai," Yukimura ordered once again, pinning Thai by the top of his chest.

     "Yuki, please," Thai begged softly, struggling against his sheer strength. "You don't—"

     "That's an order, Thai! Tell me where! Let me hear you say it!"

     Thai felt the bridge of his nose grow heavy and stuffed, the bead of a tear starting to form in the corner of his eye. His intuition before was right—Yukimura knew. 

     But, so soon? 

     That fierce gaze in Yukimura's eyes was like from before, a look that petrified and horrified him, shaking his very bones and chilling him to the core. He did not know what to do, but the immense pressure from Yukimura chipped away at his resolve, and at last, he caved.      "...I'm going to Ueda," Thai finally said, his words nearly choked up. "I'm going to Ueda."

     Yukimura gasped, but his slight shock immediately turned to fury again as he shoved Thai again against the wall, a pained yelp erupting from his throat. "And you didn't tell me!?"he roared. "Why didn't you at least tell me!?"

     "Urgh..." Thai grunted, trying to wriggle himself into a more comfortable position. "Lord Shingen made me promise to—"

     "Lord Shingen?" Yukimura growled.

     Yukimura's hold on Thai lessened, the latter dropping to the ground on all fours. The tear in Thai's eyes had already fallen down his stinging cheeks, his mind in shambles. He closed his eyes, wiping the tears from his cheek with his forearm as Yukimura paced around.      "I don't get it. Lord Shingen and I agreed that you would be mine. I looked after you the entire time you started serving me! I thought I had another friend I could trust wholeheartedly," Yukimura said, his hands clenching up into fists. "A friend that would never lie to me about something like this!"

     Thai couldn't look him in the eyes. "I was just...following orders," he muttered, staying on his knees and hands, staring down at the ground.

     "You were supposed to be my friend, Thai," Yukimura grunted. "You already know how much going back home meant for me. You may have been under Lord Shingen's orders, but surely you could have said something! Anything!?"

     Thai continued to stay silent in his groveling, wondering what to say or if anything he could say would even help at this point. Thai noticed Yukimura's sword stuffed in his obi. Would Yukimura go so far?

     "Nothing? Really?" Yukimura scoffed, his hand falling to his side in disappointment. He huffed angrily, glaring at Thai. "Not even a 'sorry?'" 

     Thai kept his head down, almost kneeling as if begging for forgiveness. Yuki scoffed, his cheeks flushed with red anger, only being more infuriated with Thai's silent response. 

     "I should've known," Yukimura finally grunted. "I guess since you don't even want to go back to your home, you don't care about anyone else's."

     Thai slammed the ground with his hands and shot up to his feet, stomping his foot on the ground. "Goddammit, Yukimura!" Thai suddenly roared out, Yuki nearly jumping back. It was now his turn to be mad, tears streaming down the corners of his eyes, his cheeks flush red. "No me chingues—how fucking dare you! We chose to lie to you because Shingen knew you would react this way! Y, si mira! You-you're-e—está me seguindo e me empurrando contra a porra de uma parede! Você é um merda de merda—o que você ia fazer quando foi para—”

    "Would’ya speak Japanese! I can't understan—"

    "Oh, fuck off!" Thai shouted back in English.

     Yukimura and Thai stood off, their glares locked with each other as silence befell the inn. Thai was breathing heavily, sniffling every once and a while. Yukimura's glare, meanwhile, had gradually dissolved into a look of shock.

     What was Yukimura thinking? Thai gritted his teeth and pointed at Yuki, his speech reverting back to Japanese, saying, "Just because I don't want to go back to my home doesn't mean I don't want you to go back to yours one day! I know how too damn much it means to you, and I wouldn't do anything to stop you. Hell, if it was up to me, I'd probably carry your ass there my damn self. So, yeah! I lied to you about that. I lied because I knew you would follow me in Ueda and immediately shit will hit the fan!"

    "'Hit the—'?"

    "It's a me-no-w-w-you—Zip it!"Thai shouted, his voice booming. "I'm talking right now! You make it to Ueda—then what!? Retake the town by your lonesome? Steal something back from the castle and hope to the Gods that no one recognizes you? I get it—you're upset I lied to your face. Go ahead, be mad, upset—hell, don't even talk to me anymore for as long as I'm here, but don't you dare assume I'm not your friend, and don't you dare accuse me of being inconsiderate of your wish to go back home just because I don't wanna even go back to mine!"

     The scampering of feet alerted the two as a group of people rushed towards them. Thai immediately recognized Sasuke leading the group, but further examination revealed that the group was entirely composed of Kasugayama shinobi, including Saizou and even Rokurobei.      "Thai," Sasuke said, cautiously approaching the foreigner. "Is everything—"

     "I'm fine—I'm fine," Thai huffed, Yukimura's other vassals and men approaching their lord.

     Great, Thai thought. Here he was, half-naked in the middle of the inn's courtyard accused by the one person in this war-torn era that he looked up to for guidance. Now, everyone probably thought he was the bad guy in all of this. Of course, they would treat Sasuke with more leniency over him; it wouldn’t be the first time fingers were pointed at the foreigner. He scoffed, wiping his tears as he shook his head.      "I don't need this," he simply said walking off.

     "Where are you going," Yukimura called out.

     "I already fucking told you," Thai harshly replied without turning his head.

     Thai quickly left, leaving Yukimura, Sasuke, and the others behind. They merely stared in silence at the retreating foreigner, a few of them noticing the large tattoo that spread across his back and shoulders. 

     He stormed off back inside his room, throwing back on his clothes and haori before storming off again out of the inn, walking down the road until out of sight from the inn before taking refuge against a nearby tree. He leaned his back against the trunk and closed his eyes before breathing slowly in and out to try and calm down.      That was why Thai would never lie to a close friend, because he knew it would always come down to this. He would always hear the yelling that rang through his ears, feel the warm tears streaming down his face, and see those glowing, vengeful eyes that stared right at his very soul. He was never able to take it as well as most people.

     He let out a pained exhale, still feeling the pain on his cheeks and chest where Yukimura slapped and pinned him respectively. His still trembling hand reached inside his kimono, taking out a foreign object: a vape pen.

     Back when Thai and Sasuke retrieved Sasuke's bag from the first wormhole they investigated together, Sasuke found inside a solar battery charger. It was a God-sent gift for them. The duo agreed to keep everything on the down low; mostly it was used to charge their phones—Sasuke was able to look at downloaded files pertaining to his wormhole studies, and Thai was able to listen to music at night when he was alone. However, there was a different reason Thai needed the charger.

     "Goddammit," he muttered under his breath, placing the mouth of the pen between his lips. He took a long inhale, holding it for a quick second before letting out the smoke in a thick, yet clear line. He shook his head, feeling the nicotine seep into his bloodstream. His head became light, his heart rushing. Thai nearly fell from the sudden rush, his two legs planting themselves hard into the ground to prevent himself from falling.      He slipped the pen back into his kimono, rubbing his face with both of his hands.

     "Why couldn't have I just told him,"Thai muttered, lightly smacking the side of his skull with his lightly-balled-up fists. “I should’ve just fucking told ‘im.”

     As much as he was flustered and furious at Yukimura accusing him of being inconsiderate to the point of betraying his interests, Thai was disappointed in himself. He meant what he said; Yukimura was his friend, and lying to him was equally as painful for him as it was to the Peerless Warrior.      What was going to happen now? Yukimura and his entourage were here, but Sasuke and Thai are still on a mission. Yukimura would most likely take it over, and a new plan would form. But, what was he trying to get at? Would he even trust Thai with the new mission if there was one?

     ...of course not. No one would trust a liar, and Thai was no exception to that. 

     Thai quickly took out the pen again and took another long puff, but a startling from above him caught him off guard. He hacked up the smoke as he slipped the pen back inside, looking to his side to see a dark figure jump down. It was Sasuke.      Thai sighed. "Leave me alone, man," he grunted, rubbing his brow.

     "I never knew you smoked," Sasuke said, keeping his distance.

     Thai's eyes shrugged. "It's bad, I know," Thai softly said. "I just...need a second to think. To calm down." Sasuke leaned on the tree next to Thai, the latter closing his eyes. The two stood in silence, hearing nothing but the soft breeze of the night wind. Thai sighed again. "Man, you scared the shit outta me when you popped out of nowhere," Thai said. "How do you do that?"

     "I'm a ninja, nin-nin,"Sasuke light-heartedly quipped.

     Thai rolled his eyes, stifling a giggle. "Fair enough. Any reason why you're standing out here with me?" Thai asked. "Shouldn't you be...I dunno...chopping it up with the others?"      "Studies show that when one is at a low point, it's best to have a friend around," Sasuke said.

     Thai scoffed amusingly. "Am I your friend, Sasuke?"

     "Sure we are," he said. "We have spent sufficient together time in this era to be candidates for 'Best Friends.'"

     Thai's eyebrow raised. "Together time? I think you and I have different meanings of 'together time.' For a second there, I thought you were hitting on me."

     Sasuke snickered, pushing up his glasses.

     "So, what happens now?" Thai asked. "I'm pretty sure Yuki ain't gonna up and leave anytime soon."

     "Yes, that does put a damper on our plans," Sasuke said. "Right now, Kasugayama is probably in an uproar. Who knows if they'll send for more people to intercept us? But, for now, we have Yuki to deal with. Supposedly, he has a plan that we will be going over tomorrow in the morning, but I still don't know what he wants at Ueda. It would be strategical suicide if his plan is to take over the entire city."

     "It doesn't matter," Thai said, "I'm sure he's just gonna either give me the brunt of the work or bench me. He ain't gonna trust me no more."

     "Thai—"

     "Man, for as tactless and pig-headed as this fool is," Thai said, interrupting Sasuke, "he's right about one thing: I lied to him. And, before you say it was just one lie, I lied about going to his home. There may have been something he wanted back there and I wouldn't have known about it until I returned. He would have been devastated, and now he is! I can't believe I allowed myself to do this."

     "Yuki seemed pretty distraught," Sasuke said. "But, I don't think he would go so far as to be negligent to you. Besides, we both lied to him."

     "I don't know, man. I feel like I'm getting the brunt of his anger," Thai argued. "He was upset...calling me inconsiderate, and such. He must have really trusted me. I mean, if we're going by your logic, I would say I spent enough 'together time' with Yuki to be called 'best friends.' He sounded like he saw us that way."

     "Try not to let it get to your head," Sasuke said. "The important thing about ninjas is to remain cool under duress. It'll be a while, but I'm sure Yuki would find it in his heart to forgive you."

     "If only. Life's a mystery, I guess..."

     Sasuke stood up, turning towards Thai. "I'm should head back in. I believe right now they are soaking in the onsen," Sasuke said. "Do you want to come along? I know you've been looking forward to a hot bath."

     Thai shook his head. "I think I'm the last face right now that everyone wants to see," he replied, "You go on ahead. I'll meet you inside."

     "Sure thing." Sasuke took three steps, but turned back to Thai again, who started slumping down the tree. "Thai, may I ask another question."

     "Well...you're already asking, so go for it," Thai replied.

     "...what did you mean you 'don't want to go home?'" Sasuke asked. "Our main plan has not changed. We are still looking for the woman and then the wormhole home. You want to go home, right?"

     "Ah dang, you heard that." Thai shook his head. "That weren't what I meant. Of course, I want to make it out of here. What I meant was Japan ain't my home, in this era or ours. Never was and...never really felt like it really was one." 

     Sasuke looked confused, his brain not functioning for a minute. "W-wait," he said. "You weren't a tourist, I thought. You said you moved to Japan and began working for a telephone company. If Japan isn't your home, then why did you move?"

     Thai nodded, hiding behind the smile-plastered mask as he looked towards the night sky. "They were the cards I was dealt with," he quietly said. "Go on inside. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

     Thai sat down on the base of the tree as Sasuke disappeared into the night. He let the calming sound of the night forest soothe his troubled mind. Inside, he kept admitting to himself that he hurt the man that he looked up to every day ever since he was dropped into this era.

     Yukimura...what a guy. Tactless? Yes. Stubborn? Thai always thought he was more of an actual wild boar between the two. Yet, it was never something that bothered Thai, save for tonight. More often, he was infatuated with Yukimura's own charm: a confident vassal both strong in will and heart that not only inspired his men but took the time to listen and help. He was someone you could confidently abide by, who, although with faulty execution, would reassure you that everything would be fine. And, as righteous as he was in heart, he was equally skilled in strength and physique, a warrior through and through.

     He was amazing, to say the least. Just his stalwart smile alone melted Thai's heart something fierce, his soft gaze in those eyes reassuring.

     "Carahlo," Thai scoffed, "Why am I thinking all of this? The man pinned me up against a wall while I was almost naked."

    Yukimura’s image was plastered in his mind, the only thing he was able to think about. Thai was never as hurt about lying to a friend as he did with Yukimura. That wasn't to say that Thai did not feel bad about lying; there was still a horde of guilt and doubt weighing on his mind already. But, seeing him react like that shook Thai. Thai very well thought he lost his new best friend tonight.

     Obviously, it might be because he was Thai's boss—his lord whom he swore to protect at all costs who can also kill him for treason, but it didn't sound right.

     No. He admired Yukimura's praise and touch, his reassurance and confidence that boosted his morale. He met only a few others that could fit Yukimura's shoes, but even they fall short.      A pang in Thai's heart shook him from his thoughts. Thai scoffed, shaking his head, but his slight smirk relaxed into a frown. 

     He sighed, seeing the new hand dealt to him. 

     There were eleven of them. Yukimura sat at the front of the table with his ten men surrounding it. Saizou and Rokurobei stood to his sides, both Thai and Sasuke intertwined with the several others that made up their band of warriors. There were no smiles, jokes, or coughs. Frowns were plastered on every one of their faces, although, it was noticeable to Thai that the frown Sasuke had on was hiding something that definitely was not tension or stress.      "This infiltration of Ueda will be difficult," Saizou stated. "While both Kai and Shinano are under Oda rule, we know of small villages bordering Ueda that still hold allegiances to both the Takeda and Sanada."      "This gives us a safe place to set up our base of operations as we plan our next move," Rokurobei added. "Likely, they would likely know our faces if we step foot in Ueda, even with disguises on, so, I would advise you, my lord, that we carry on with the plan of both Thai and Sasuke infiltrating Ueda directly to gather information."      Yukimura stayed silent, nodding to them both as he looked down at a map of Ueda.

     "Thai. Sasuke," Saizou called, the two alerted to the raven-haired shinobi. "I understand that this is going against Lord Shingen's wishes and that the consequences when we get back may be dire. You two will play an integral part in this operation, but because our mission puts you two in danger in Kasugayama for treason, we won't force you to stay."

     Thai and Sasuke looked at each other, Sasuke nodding to Thai as the other shrugged his eyes. "I'll choose to stay," Sasuke said. "After all, if I may speak in a casual sense, B.F.F.’s stick together."

     Yukimura raised an eyebrow at Sasuke as the others looked at each other confused. "What about you, Thai?" Saizou asked, everyone's attention now directed at him.

     Thai exhaled softly, looking at Saizou. Time to play the hand dealt to him. "Well...I have nowhere else to go, so....I'll stay."

     "Then it's settled," Saizou said. "We'll set out for this nearby village. From there, we can form a plan as you two infiltrate Ueda. Everyone get ready."

     The entire room simultaneously stood up and started exiting, but Saizou suddenly pulled Thai back. The latter sighed, expecting to see a very annoyed Saizou. However, he turned to see his concerned crimson eyes gazing at Thai, his hand resting on Thai's shoulder.      "Usually, people speak to Lord Yukimura with more respect than you have," Saizou said as he retracted his hand. "Never once had I witnessed someone berate him like that."

     Thai hesitated to speak, whether it was because he was choosing the words to say or too scared to speak the truth. "...sorry I weren't raised to the high standards like the others," Thai plainly spoke, "But I ain't gonna just stand there half-naked in the night being accused of disregarding his ultimate wish."

     Saizou sighed. "To be honest," he said, his tone becoming more relaxed, yet still slightly condescending, "I thought you two would have started to fight each other. I didn't expect this unexpected reunion to be as violent."

     Thai shrugged his eyes. "And what about you, Sensei?" Thai asked. "What do you make of all this?"

     Saizou hesitated to answer, yet said, "While I agree that what we're doing is rushed and extremely dangerous given the circumstances, everyone here is acting on our lord’s wishes. Lord Yukimura decided to go back to Ueda to get something important back from the enemy, and having as many people on our side will aid him in this mission."

     "Hence the rush to get there when we left," Thai said. "I can see why he's angry then. What's he after?"      "A...gunbai," Saizou answered suddenly. "A gunbai that belonged to his father that he used to lead his warriors to battle."      "...a war fan?" Thai asked, "Yukimura...brought you and seven other guys and most likely committed treason...for a war fan?"

     "It's to cover all bases, essentially," Saizou explained, "We can explain more once we get to our next stop. We should get ready." Saizou was ready to leave, yet Thai stepped in front of him. "Hm?"

     "W-wait....look," Thai whispered. He looked outside the door first, making sure no one was eavesdropping on the two before returning his attention to Saizou. "I don't think I'll be able to speak to Yu....Lord Yukimura after last night for a while, but, as much as this is probably going to go wrong once we come back, I promise I'll make sure he is safe. You mark my words."

     "I know," Saizou said with a smile. "Just be sure to also watch out for yourself. As angry at you as he is now, I don't think he wants to see you hurt, either."

     "Highly debatable," Thai said. "All right, I'ma get ready."      By early afternoon, Yukimura and his ten followers pushed on ahead toward Shinano. Yukimura and Saizou led their seven men, all on horseback, with Thai and Sasuke trailing behind, still pulling on their cart. Thai couldn't verbally say this out loud, but at the very least, he wished Yukimura would have brought two spare horses for the two of them to at least make the journey to and from Shinano just a little more comfortable.      "Mas que porra..." Thai winced.

     Thai looked over at Sasuke, who, although pulling his own weight on the cart, was not only deep in thought, but also looked equally as ecstatic.

     "You all right there, Sasuke?" Thai whispered.

     Sasuke nodded. "Thai, do you realize what's happening right now," Sasuke said as if trying to hold back his excitement.

     "...I think right now I'm pulling a cart behind a parade of warriors that could've at least lent us a horse," Thai answered.

     "Well, true, but do you count how many of us there are."

     "Um...'bout eleven, including Yuki. Why?"

     Sasuke shot his "nerding-out" face at Thai, nearly making the latter flinch. "Exactly!" he said. "There's Saizou and Rokurobei, then the Miyoshi twins, Isa and Seikai, following behind. There's Kamanosuke right next to Saizou and Juzou next to Yuki. Kosuke and Uemon rearing their flank and the two of us behind! This is the start of the legendary Sanada Ten Braves!"

     Thai raised his eyebrow. "The who now?"

     "The ten legendary shinobi and samurai that belonged in Yuki's inner circle," Sasuke explained. "They acted as bodyguards who swore their lives to defend their lord from anything and followed him to even the worst battles without question. Historians always debated whether or not the Ten Braves were a legitimate group that existed, yet, here we are!"

     "Interesting," Thai said as he nodded. "...wait...if you're supposed to be Sasuke Sarutobi, then, who am I supposed to technically be? I never took on an alias, and I'm damn well sure that my name won't be found in no history books."

     "Yes...about that," Sasuke said. "While everyone is here, there is one last Brave not accounted for: Nezu Jinpachi."

     Thai's eyes widened slightly. "The pirate? "Thai whispered frantically. "B-but, Yuki killed him?"

     "Right, and now," Sasuke said. "We have unfortunately meddled even more with history, and now you, Thai, seemed to have replaced him."

     "...I'm not changing myself into Nezu," Thai said. "As infuriating as he was to deal with, it won't sit right with me."

      "Oh no, I'm not encouraging you to play the part of Nezu," Sasuke said. "But, to just now be a part of History is so exciting, no?"

     "I guess..." Thai said. Thai looked ahead, zeroing in on Yukimura, who was busy scanning the horizon with nothing but grassland and forest as far as the eye can see. Thai sighed, biting his dry bottom lip.      There was no telling if the rest of the group held the same disgruntled feelings about Thai as Yukimura had last night. It certainly would not help if they did, especially given how some of them were directly involved in making Thai's prior training as a shinobi ten times more difficult with their sabotage. He knew the Miyoshi twins were a devious pair, Kamanosuke a powerhouse and archetypal brawler, and so on and so forth. While Thai doubted they would go out of their way to make sure he would fail in whatever missions Yukimura would give him, he kept the paranoia in the back of his mind.      If this was really the start of the Sanada Ten Braves, then Thai knew that everyone here would make sure that not only would they be victorious in everything they do, but that every little part of the mission would go perfectly. Maybe things would go smoothly. But, like always, Murphy’s Law shared a place with optimism, and Thai would need to pull his weight to avoid catastrophe. 

     "Fuck it," Thai said in plain English. "Let's go make some history."

[dolcid]

They find you crying | Star Wars

A/N: hey! Thanks so much for the likes and reblogs on my recent imagines! (Just a warning, Din's sucks and I added Poe)

Anakin Skywalker

When Anakin finds you crying, he immediately feels rage overcome him. He quickly comes to your aid, shushing you and pressing gentle kisses to your head.

"What's happened my love?" He'd ask, resting his chin atop your head.

"Master Windu was insulting me today, saying I wasn't ready to be a jedi nor deserve to be one," you say, choking on your sobs and clutching Anakin's robe. Anakin gritted his teeth and decided against letting out his anger right now, he didn't want to scare you.

"That's not true my love. If anything you are one of the most skilled jedi's I have ever met, don't let someone bring you down, especially Master Windu." He'd reassure you, gently cradling your head to his chest.

"I love you, my sweet. Now please, dry those tears. It pains me to see you in distress"

Obi-Wan Kenobi

When Obi-Wan finds you crying he'd immediately soften up, hoping nothing had harmed you. He'd sit beside you and gently lean you onto him.

"What's wrong my dear?" He'd ask, taking your trembling hands into his own, placing soft kisses against your knuckles.

"I was just informed my brother has died. Obi, he was all I had left," you sob, your hands covering your face again. Obi-Wan processed this before acting, he knew your brother and was very fond of him. Obi-Wan takes your hands again and holds them close.

"Your brother was an amazing soldier my dear. He went out doing what he did best, protecting others" he'd reassure you, gently wiling away your tears.

"If he was here right now, you know he'd be happy to see you alive. So instead of dwelling on the bad, focus on you, you're living for him"

Darth Vader

When Vader finds you crying, albeit next to a trooper, he would immediately force choke them, giving in to his rage before noticing you and send the trooper flying without a thought.

"What has he done my love?" He asks angrily although his touches are soft and gentle.

"He just started to hit me! I-I don't know why!" You'd say, your hand holding your bruised arm.

"Hush, everything is alright now my love. No harm will come to you again." Vader reassures, walking you back to your shared room before finding and dealing with the trooper himself. Afterwards, he would force heal you, and rub gentle circles on your arms.

Luke Skywalker

Luke, much like his father, would immediately assume the worst. That someone has hurt you. Quickly rushing to your side, he ushers you into his arms.

"Sweetheart! What's wrong? Are you hurt?" He'd ask, his heart and mind racing.

"I'm okay, it's just...I feel like you spend more time with Leia then you do with me...you love her don't you?" You'd say with a small voice, looking up at him. Luke frowned at your assumption and completely understood. He hadn't told you yet.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, I completely forgot to tell you...she's my sister." Luke says, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead.

"What? But..."

"No buts. I will always love you, no one else can steal my heart like you've stolen mine." Luke reassures you, accepting your hug and smiling at your adorableness.

Han Solo

When Han finds you crying he over thinks it. Not just yet assuming the worst but also kind of assuming the worst.

"Babe? What's got you all sad? Did Chewie take your jawa juice again?" He'd joke, laughing at his own joke, but ceasing when he sees you haven't moved.

"Babe?" He'd ask again, crouching near your knees so he could look at your face better.

"Its fucking Lando! He's always trying to break us up! He tood me that you don't really love me, your just using me," you explain, wiping furiously at your eyes.

"And you believe him?" Han would ask, watching as you ponder the thought.

"Babe, the only guy you ever need to believe is me, okay? And I, in fact, do love you!" Han says, grabbing your cheeks and leaning you into his lips. When separating you smile, knowing Han truly loved you.

Din Djarin

When Din finds you crying, it is because Grogu had bugged him until he followed him. Thankful for his green son, he nods at the baby before coming to your aid.

"What's wrong cyar'ika?" He'd ask, his hands lingering over your waist.

"It's nothing. Grogu I told you not to bug him-"

"No. Whenever you need me, I'll be there okay? Never feel like you're bugging me," Din would interrupt you, gently leaning his helmet against your forehead. Feeling as Grogu climbed onto his lap.

"I just miss you is all," you'd whisper, gently scratching Grogu's head and feeling Din's grip tighten ever so slightly.

"I miss you too. Always."

Poe Dameron

When Poe finds you crying, he, much like many others, worries and immediately assumed something has happened to you.

"Y/N?? Hey, hey. What's wrong? Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you? I swear if someone hurt you-"

Cutting him off you quietly chuckle stopping him from ranting. He always called you by your real name when he was worried.

"No, I'm not hurt love. Just...worried," you'd say, wiping at your cheeks.

"Worried about what?" He'd ask, bringing your hands into his own.

"I just...saw you talking to another girl. You looked happy with her...do I make you happy?" You'd say, watching as his eyes softened.

"Oh honey, nobody makes me more happy than you. I love you, no one, no girl, can change that, okay?"

Kylo Ren

When Kylo finds you crying, he would act much like his grandfather. Rage would overcome him and he'd look for the reason of your crying only to find none. He then softens, slowly walking up and hugging you from behind.

"Y/N? What's wrong my love?" He'd ask gently, rubbing your arms softly.

"I'm okay," you'd mumble, stepping out of his arms. Which Kylo frowned at.

"Don't do that. I promised you I'd be here for you, no matter what. Please don't shut me out," he'd say, his arms still reaching out to you, but not touching. You'd sigh, and feel tears cascade down your face once more.

"Rey. Your always occupied by her when I need you, so I've been coming here," you'd explain, watching his eyes soften even more.

"Rey is a nobody. She's simply an arrogant bother. Nobody has my attention more than you my love."

Reblogs Appreciated!

[loth-wolffe]

“name told me you're in love with me. tell me it isn't true. tell me this is all just a huge misunderstanding. “ “i can't. “

And also

“you don't get it, do you? “ “get what? “ “that i don't want to spend even as much as a second without you by my side. “

With my Sergeant Hunter, please 😁😁

AHHHH baby anything for you (i AM working in that other hunter request you sent i just need to,,,,,,,,,,, get inspired)

BUT GOD THIS IS SO GOOD YES YES.

ILYSB

Pairing: Hunter x reader (no y/n)

Word count: 869. not proofread we die like men.

Warnings: a lil bit of good ol angstey babey.

ps. i changed the second prompt a tiny bit, hope you don't mind eheheheh. hope you like this bubs. mwah.

ps2. the song has nothing to do with the fic but i was listening to it while making the last arrangements and i have no idea what other title this should have. enJoy.

Hunter quickens his pace as his heart skips a beat, he's getting closer and closer to find you, because there's a chance that you might love him back.

He has never seen anything that indicates you could, or maybe it's because he's too caught up in trying you don't notice him loving you.

Trying to ease his beating heart when you rest your head on his shoulder, to suppress the butterflies from fluttering when you laugh, to seem like he wasn't already looking your way when your eyes meet.

Maybe he took too much time hiding his own hints that he never took a moment to see if you gave him any signals.

But how could you? When he's just... him.

He finds you in your office. You look stressed, tired eyes running through some words and you mumble something under your breath, sighing as you write your signature. When you look up, you look relieved, and as your lips ease with a smile and your eyes soften for him, he thinks you have never looked more beautiful.

"Hey Sarge, you're lost?" you joke, pushing the papers further into your desk before your hands go to rest on your stomach, leaning back on your chair and it's your way of telling him you're taking a break.

For him.

He sits on the chair in front, looking stiff, feeling stiff. Eyes scanning his surrounds like he has never been in your office before in hopes you don't find the nervousness they hide.

"Tech told me something."

You crook an eyebrow, snorting.

"Yeah? what was it?" You don't comment on his serious face, nor on how tense he seemed, it must've been something that pissed him off.

He meets your eyes, and there's something in them you can't quite pinpoint. Hunter waits before he says it, memorizing the way you look now, to compare it with your reaction later.

"He told me you were in love with me."

Hunter doesn't know what's worse, the way you stood unmoving, looking at him, he's sure you haven't even blinked once, mouth agape and he can hear your heart beat racing, or maybe the silence that follows, thick and heavy on his shoulders.

He can't stand it.

"Say something." He's never been one to plead but now he's begging, he's begging you, to do something, to say something, anything that pulls him out of his misery. "Tell me this isn't true," even if it hurts, but that's better than nothing. "Tell me this is just a big misunderstanding, and I'll go."

But it's not only an "and", there's a threat behind his words, it's a tell me or I'll leave, a softness that wraps an ugliness he's not sure he wants you to see just yet.

Hunter can be a patient man, but right now his patience is wearing thin. No answer means no, he supposes as he stands.

"I can't."

He stops.

"Can't what?"

Because there are too many answers to that, you can't love him, you can't admit it, you can't tell him that–

"He's right," you pause, "Tech. He–" you run a hand through your eye, exasperated, "I should've known better than to tell him."

You sound tired, defeated, and Hunter doesn't understand why.

"It's okay if you don't wanna– I mean..." You look at the ceiling for a second, searching for words, for strength. "I understand if you don't feel the same or–" you find him with teary eyes, already looking a bit red from how hard you're retaining the tears. "I get it if you don't want anything to do with me after this." Your voice is a whisper, eyes flickering from him to your hands.

Oh.

Hunter has never seen you looking so small, so sad, hanging on a thread he willingly put you on and ready to fall into a place so different from the one he had made for you.

He shakes his head, coming to your side of the desk, leaning down to cup your cheek and he's inches away, breath brushing your skin along with his thumb, holding you with such delicacy, afraid you might break, or disappear, or flinch away from his touch, but you don't.

If anything, you move closer, his whiskey eyes try to find your soul somewhere between yours, but he doesn't know he has seen it before, when you tend his wounds, when he holds you close, when you say goodbye.

He could laugh, at how ridiculous it all was, how ridiculous love was.

"You don't get it, do you?" he whispers, staring at every little detail of your face he has missed before.

He could spend his time like this, counting every mole, memorizing the way your eyelashes kiss your skin with every blink, trace the outline of your jaw and nose and cheeks, and all of you.

You frown slightly, confused, taking in a shaky breath before you asking,

"Get what?" in the same hushed voice, not wanting to speak any louder.

He smiles, lightly, tenderly, and right before he connects his lips with yours, he says,

"I'm in love with you too."

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[stolen-pen-name23]

EMIMH12, here

11 or 12 for some disaster trio? If you're still taking prompts 🥰

Hi there!! Thank you for the prompt!! //From these angst prompts.

Here's some post-deception, disaster trio angst for ya!

---

Obi-Wan’s comm crackles to life and he warms at the blue glow of his grandpadawan.

“Ahsoka, it’s good to—”

“Master!” Ahsoka cries. “Obi-Wan are you there?”

“Yes, little one, I’m here,” Obi-Wan says, his senses jumping to full alert. He analyzes her expression — the way her markings are raised in alarm atop widened eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“You need to come here!” she exclaims.

“Where is here?” Obi-Wan asks, already gathering his things.

“Mine and Anakin’s quarters. Hurry!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Obi-Wan repeats.

“It’s Anakin. Something’s wrong. His skin is so hot and he—”

“Is he sick?”

“Yeah, but he—”

Obi-Wan stops gathering his things and frowns. “Then maybe you should call a healer. I don’t think he’ll want to see me,” he says, trying to keep the tightness out of his voice. Ahsoka is not deserving of his or Anakin’s ire.

“Master,” Ahsoka says, and Obi-Wan can hear the desperation in her voice. “He won’t wake up.”

Obi-Wan’s heart stutters.

“He won’t wake up?” he repeats quietly.

“Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka whimpers, dropping the title from his name altogether. “You have to help him. Please.”

“I’m on my way, Padawan,” Obi-Wan says. He tears out of the archives, garnering a glare from Master Nu. He doesn’t care. He can apologize to her later. Anakin needs him now.

Obi-Wan hasn’t spoken to Anakin in days. Anakin had all but sealed off their bond, leaving Obi-Wan entirely unaware of his physical and mental state, though Obi-Wan has his guesses about the latter.

He runs through the halls of the Temple, just like Anakin used to — no matter how many times Obi-Wan told him to stop. He reaches Anakin and Ahsoka’s quarters and punches in the lock code.

It doesn’t open.

Obi-Wan doesn’t pause to feel hurt by Anakin changing the locks up on him. Their petty disagreements don’t matter right now. Instead, Obi-Wan centers himself and coaxes the lock open with the Force. The door slides open and a balm of warm air immediately settles over him.

Obi-Wan’s eyes land on the couch where his former padawan is currently laying. Ahsoka is crouched down on the floor so that she is at eye level with him. Obi-Wan crosses the room and drops down right next to her.

This close to Anakin, Obi-Wan can feel the heat rolling off of his skin. His eyes are closed.

“Anakin,” he says in the same stern voice he used when Anakin overslept for one of his classes. It is even less effective now than it was then. Anakin’s eyes remain closed.

He shakes Anakin’s shoulders and pats his cheek. He still fails to receive a response. Obi-Wan rests his fingers on Anakin’s neck and grimaces. His heart rate is elevated — a sure sign of illness — as if the high temperature were not already enough.

“Wake up, Padawan,” Obi-Wan says softly.

“He’s been complaining of the cold,” Ahsoka says. “That’s why it’s so hot in here. He just kept turning up the heat. I thought… he’s always cold, I just thought… And then he got sick and it made sense, but I didn’t know how sick until he wouldn’t wake up.”

“It’s alright, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan soothes. “Anakin’s not exactly good at conveying when something is wrong.”

“Wonder where he gets that from,” Ahsoka mutters.

Obi-Wan narrows his eyes before returning his attention to Anakin.

“How long has he been like this?”

“He’s only been unconscious for an hour, but he’s been sick for two days,” Ahsoka confirms.

Two days. Two days and Obi-Wan didn’t even know about it. Were they really so beyond mending that Obi-Wan could no longer sense when Anakin was in pain?

He places a hand on Anakin’s burning forehead and closes his eyes.

“What are you doing?” Ahsoka asks when he doesn’t pull his hand away.

“I’m trying to heal him,” Obi-Wan says through clenched teeth.

“Master! You aren’t a healer, that’s dangerous, you should—”

“I just want him to wake up. When he wakes up I’ll stop.”

“But—”

“I need to wake him up,” Obi-Wan says firmly.

If Ahsoka wants to protest, she stops herself. Obi-Wan sinks into the Force — its embrace warmer than any room where Anakin had control of the thermostat. He pulls upon the strength of the Force — the strength inside of him — and focuses on transferring it to his former padawan. His palm starts to burn as energy flows through him to Anakin

Dizziness starts to slow his progress, just as Anakin stirs beneath him. Obi-Wan opens his eyes and pulls his hand away.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan questions hopefully. “Can you hear me?”

“‘Wan?” Anakin slurs. His eyes are fever bright and brimming with tears. “Thought you were dead.”

“No, Anakin,” Obi-Wan reassures. “It was just a mission. It’s over now, I’m right here.”

“Yeah,” Anakin says weakly. “You were shot and you fell and I saw it and…”

“Hush, we need to get you to a healer, alright?”

“Don’t wanna.”

“I don’t care.”

“Are we both dead?” Anakin asks. “That would make sense. I can’t feel you.”

Obi-Wan’s heart clenches.

“Your shields, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispers. “You’ve shielded yourself from our bond. You just have to let me in.”

Anakin’s face scrunches up. “Oh. Okay.”

Anakin blinks. His shields are gone.

Obi-Wan gasps as the overpowering essence of Anakin Skywalker saturates the space around them. Anakin rarely lets his full Force presence shine through his shields, even when they aren’t fighting. Even Ahsoka flinches at the sheer intensity of it all. Obi-Wan squeezes his eyes shut and rubs his temple in discomfort.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan breathes his name. “Anakin that’s enough. Please.”

“You’re alive,” Anakin says with a soft smile. Pure, unadulterated happiness rolls off of Anakin in waves. “I can feel you.”

“Yeah and we can feel you too,” Ahsoka says sharply. “Can you tone it down a bit, Skyguy?”

That pulls Anakin further out of his daze. “Hey Snips!” he says enthusiastically.

“He’s delirious,” Ahsoka says. “We need to get him to a healer.”

“I concur,” Obi-Wan agrees. “Easy now, Anakin.” Obi-Wan pulls Anakin’s arm over his shoulder and lifts him to his feet. Ahsoka steadies his other side and together they hobble over to the halls of healing.

“What happened to him?” Vokara Che asks as they practically burst through the front doors.

“He’s sick,” Ahsoka supplies. “Obi-Wan got him to wake up, but he’s really out of it.

“Yes, I can sense that,” Vokara says, wincing at the sheer power still coming from Anakin’s unshielded presence. “Bring him here.”

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka drag him over to a bed and lay him down. Vokara begins assessing him.

“His fever is dangerously high,” Vokara Che says. “I’m putting him on fluids and fever reducers. He’ll be fine, but he really should have been brought in sooner.”

Ahsoka shrinks into herself.

“This is not your fault, Padawan,” Obi-Wan says quickly. “Anakin is an adult. He should know his own limits. It is not your fault that he did not seek medical attention.”

“Wonder where he gets that from,” Vokara mutters before exiting the room.

Obi-Wan sighs. “I wish people would stop saying that,” he says, more to himself than to anyone.

“We only say it 'cause it’s true,” Ahsoka says, the beginnings of a smile curving one side of her lips.

“Oh, shut up.”

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka settle themselves into uncomfortable plastic chairs beside Anakin’s bed. Obi-Wan wonders for a moment how Anakin will react to seeing him when he is not in a state of delirium. He considers leaving, but the larger part of him that cares for Anakin’s well-being more than his own wins. He cannot bear to leave without first seeing his former apprentice awake and on the mend.

Of course, it does not take too long for that to happen. The fever reducers injected directly into his bloodstream have served their intended purpose and Anakin’s eyes crack open slightly. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka perk up.

“Master?” Ahsoka questions. “Master, are you feeling better?”

Anakin groans before looking at her. “A little. Not really.”

Obi-Wan hums and Anakin startles, seemingly just noticing his former Master for the first time.

Anakin’s eyes narrow and zero in on Obi-Wan.

“What are you doing here?” Anakin questions menacingly.

“Anakin,” Ahsoka chastises, before Obi-Wan motions for her to stop fighting his battles.

Anakin blinks. His shields are back up.

Obi-Wan recoils at the sudden loss. In a heartbeat, Obi-Wan would have taken back the turbulent ocean waves of Anakin’s presence — crashing into him over and over — if it meant he did not have to suffer the emptiness left behind in his wake. But every tide is destined to recede at some point or another.

“I’m sorry, Anakin. I’ll leave you to rest,” Obi-Wan says. “I do hope you feel better soon.”

He does not await a reply, fearing that it will only strengthen the emptiness.

Obi-Wan walks away, holding onto the hope that the Anakin that was so happy to see him alive is still in there somewhere — smothered, but not destroyed by the pain of his deception.

[neon-junkie]

A Change of Uniform

Summary: Unaware of the lipstick marks you've left on his neck, Rex removes his helmet in front of his General. But Anakin understands what it's like to be in a secret relationship.

Pairing: Captain Rex x Jedi gn!Reader (stated that the reader wears lipstick)

Rating: SFW

Word count: 1.3k

Tags: Secret relationship, Fluff, Embarrassment.

Notes: this is like.... the most SFW thing i've ever written lol

"Hey, Rex, wake up." Rex stirs from his sleep as he hears you call out, gently nudging his body whilst repeating his name. He soon comes to light, rubbing his eyes and smiling as he feels you plant kisses across his cheek. "This is better than an alarm clock," Rex states with a gentle laugh, before guiding your lips over to his, stealing one of many kisses from you. "How was your nap?" you ask. "Great. I mean, I'm still tired, but I'll wake up once I'm in the shower," Rex replies, slowly sitting upright and giving his eyes another rub. "Yeah, you've got some time to get ready. Where did Master Skywalker say you were being deployed to again?" 

"He didn't," Rex rolls his eyes. "You know what the General is like, he's always so vague about details until we get there... and even then, he barely fills us in on the plan." "Well, that's Anakin for you," you shrug. "Now come on, Captain. Time to get up." "Eh, five more minutes won't hurt, will it?" Rex questions as he lays back down, pulling you with him. As much as you want to spend time cuddled up to Rex in his private quarters, he has his duties to attend to, and you have yours. You force yourself up, smiling at the defeated sigh Rex lets out when you wriggle from his grasp. "Shower, now," you order, and Rex sarcastically sighs once more before forcing himself up, and making his way over to his refresher. Whilst Rex is occupied, you begin getting his armour and travel bag ready, packing the usual items that seem to spend more time in this bag, rather than out of it. Rex makes quick work of his shower, exiting his refresher with his black under armour already on. He attempts to be stealthy, wringing his towel and playfully launching it in the direction of your ass, only for you to reach behind and grab it. "I always forget you have those abilities," Rex defeatedly states. You roll your eyes at him, and finish packing his travel bag as he suits up. Rex pulls his backpack on, his helmet under his arm, and spends a few minutes smothering you in kisses before heading out. You two follow your normal procedure; you're leaving first, and Rex follows after a few minutes, leaving separately in an attempt to hide your private relationship, despite the fact that his men and your fellow Masters seem to have picked up on how soft you are on each other. But before you leave, you kiss along his jawline and down his neck, teasing him simply because you can, before meeting his gaze again. "Come back safe," you say, your statement being both affectionate, and an order. "Always," Rex smiles, and kisses you once more. You turn heel and leave, peering down the corridor before scurrying away once the coast is clear. Rex lets the door shut behind you, smiling sappily whilst he puts his helmet on, still grinning beneath the thick plastoid. --- "Rex, you're not late for once," Anakin proudly states, resting his hands on his hips as he watches his Captain approach. "I told you I'd get better with my time management, General," Rex replies. His head flicks around, surveying the troops that he's with, before turning back to Anakin. "Is Commander Tano not joining us today?" "Not today, no. She has another assignment to focus on. It's just you and me, Rex," Anakin grins, nudging Rex playfully. "Oh, lucky me," Rex sarcastically replies, rolling his eyes despite Anakin not being able to see them. He begins boarding the cruiser, Anakin following behind, stretching his arms out as he protests. "Hey, am I not good enough company?" Anakin grumbles. "Eh, you'll do," Rex nips back. The pair make their way up to the bridge, overlooking the other clones working away as they launch, soon heading into hyperspace. Anakin decides that now is the time to finally begin his mission debriefing. He runs through the plan, taking in the suggestions from his men, and working to find the best solution to defeat the Separatist forces already awaiting them. "Jesse, go and get the men ready. We'll be out of hyperspace soon," Anakin orders, and Jesse follows his command, exiting the bridge to ready the men. "Isn't that my job, General?" Rex questions, trailing behind Anakin as they make their way to the front of the bridge, overlooking the approaching planet. "I need you here to help me figure out what exactly we're dealing with..." Anakin sighs. "I'm not entirely sure our plan will work. I sense we'll need to make changes." "As always," Rex comments. Rex decides to spend these last few moments comfortably, pulling his helmet off and tucking it under his arm, letting out a deep breath as the cool air comes into contact with his face. He overlooks the battlefield awaiting them, now understanding why Anakin wanted him to hold here, and turns his attention to his General as they begin making amends to their plan. The pair natter away, pointing out blockades and various obstacles facing them. It's no surprise by now that things never go according to plan, especially when you're following General Skywalker; Jesse doesn't seem surprised when Anakin comm's him to inform him on the updates, and lets his General know that the transports are ready to be deployed. "Guess we should head down there," Anakin says with a defeated sigh as he ends the comm. He begins turning heel, only to stop in his tracks as Rex catches his attention. Well, Rex himself hasn't caught his attention, rather something on Rex instead. Anakin squints as he stares at Rex's jawline and neck, and Rex, who is still staring out at the battlefield, feels Anakin's eyes on him and turns his focus away. He makes eye contact with his General, raising a brow as he notices Anakin's smug expression. "Is there a problem, Sir?" Rex questions, unaware of what's going on. "I didn't know there had been a change to your uniform, Rex," Anakin replies, biting back his laughter. "...There wasn't?" Rex replies, confused as ever, and quietly adds "I think" onto the end of his reply. "So, it's only you wearing red now?" Anakin smugly questions, and grins even more when Rex continues blankly staring at him, tilting his head like a confused puppy. Anakin lets out a long sigh before piecing things together for his Captain. "Your neck, Rex. You might want to check how you look in the mirror before heading out." Rex's eyes go wide, and he reaches a gloved hand up to wipe his fingertips along his neck, revealing the faint lipstick marks on his skin. His cheeks begin turning pink, even more so as Anakin begins laughing at his embarrassed expression. "You're uh... you're not going to tell anybody about this, are you, General?" Rex nervously questions. He knows Anakin wouldn't dare to have him decommissioned for such a petty thing, but reassurance is needed in a situation like this. "Hey, I trust you to keep things a secret about me and Padmé. You know that I can do the same for you," Anakin says as he places his hand on Rex's shoulder, sending him a smile. He keeps his hand there as the pair begin their journey down to the transports, keeping their bodies somewhat close, acting as a shield whilst Rex begins wiping your lipstick marks away. "It's a good thing Obi-wan's not here," Anakin states. "Yeah..." Rex nervously sighs. "Or Ahsoka," he adds. "Oh, she wouldn't tell on you, but she'd sure rip into you for it," Anakin laughs, and informs him of the small smudge that he's missed. "Yeah, that's what I fear more," Rex comments, and can't help but laugh along as Anakin cracks up even more, wiping a small tear from his eye. Anakin manages to control his laughter as they approach the transports, and Rex shoves his helmet on faster than an eager podracer, hiding his blushed cheeks and whatever's left of your lipstick on his neck. "Tell them I said hello when we're back home, Rex," Anakin mockingly orders, biting back a grin as he overhears Rex sigh. "Yes, General..."

[the-last-kenobi]

Most of your fics absolutely destroyed me emotionally so, on my own risk, may I request #13 “You shouldn’t be this easy to carry" with Qui-Gon and padawan Obi-Wan? Thank you!

Ohhh I’m happy to write this one! Thank you! (Always pleased to hear I’ve emotionally wrecked innocent people lol)

From this various prompts list.

_

Qui-Gon descended the ramp of his ship with something less than his usual grace, his expression was rather sour. Other than that, he looked his usual self, untidy but comfortable and serene.

He waved to the attendant heading towards the ship, and bowed to a small mechanic droid that squeaked with excitement, ran in circles around him, and then darted off after the attendant.

Qui-Gon chuckled. He paused to take a deep breath, tasting the metallic scent of Coruscant on the air, but also the warm and familiar notes of the Temple, of home. It was good to be back. Tedious diplomatic assignments that ran well overtime were nothing worth dwelling on, especially when it was done alone.

“Master Jinn!” a warm voice called.

He turned his head and saw Shaak Ti walking towards him, a smile on her lovely face with its striking colors.

“Knight Ti,” he greeted her. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” she answered. “I’m just about to depart to Alderaan; it’s a royal wedding and I’m the token Jedi invitee,” she informed him, but there was no offense in her voice. Alderaan was well known to be genuinely welcoming, and had been more than courteous in their dealings with the Order for centuries on end.

“Enjoy it,” Qui-Gon advised her. “Weddings are rarely something you’d like to miss.”

“I will,” she promised. “Oh, is your Padawan around? I was hoping to catch him when he returned, he forgot to sign off on his departure notice and was scheduled for three shifts in the crèche, which he obviously missed.”

Qui-Gon’s head tilted to one side, and he frowned.

It was obvious that Shaak Ti believed that Obi-Wan had accompanied him on his mission, which had in fact been a solo assignment. The twenty-one-year-old Padawan had remained behind for class rotations.

And Obi-Wan had never missed... well, anything. He was notoriously early for everything, beyond punctual. It was almost annoying.

Perhaps he’d finally slipped into a belated teenage fit of laziness, or he’d fallen so behind on class work that he’d forgotten about the crèche. Both would be extremely out of character, but one instance of this in nearly nine years of training could perhaps be excused.

Shaak Ti was waiting for an answer.

“I’ll talk to him,” he promised, revealing nothing. “Thank you for letting me know. I had no idea.”

She waved it off. “These things happen. You have a good student on your hands; he’s easily forgiven.”

Qui-Gon smiled.

~

The door to their quarters opened for him with a casual wave of the hand. Jedi did not lock their doors often; privacy was an understood thing, something not casually breached. No Jedi would enter another’s rooms without first asking permission.

He wasn’t sure what he expected.

Obi-Wan in the common area, reading.

Or Obi-Wan out and about, somewhere off with some of his more trouble making friends. (Quinlan Vos.)

He was not expecting to find Obi-Wan huddled in the corner of their kitchenette, half-hidden in his cloak, knees drawn up under his chin, crying.

Obi-Wan saw him enter and flinched away, shuddering.

Qui-Gon stared.

The entire scene was so unexpected, so wrong, that for a full five seconds he simply stood there, unable to process it. Obi-Wan had buried his face in his knees and was attempting to stifle his tears, seemingly by holding his breath, which was only making him shake harder.

Qui-Gon jolted out of his paralysis and stepped nearer, dropping onto one knee, sensing that looming over his Padawan was not going to help.

“Padawan?” he asked cautiously.

Obi-Wan looked up reluctantly. His face was a sickly grey; his cheeks were bright red and his blue eyes were feverish. They darted around, seeming to fix on nothing.

“Obi-Wan,” the Master tried again, warily reaching out a hand and resting it on top of one of Obi-Wan’s, clenched around his knee.

Obi-Wan took a rattling breath, more tears spilling down his cheeks. “...What... day is it...?” he gasped.

Qui-Gon’s chest tightened with something close to terror. What in all the galaxy was going on here?

“It’s the 29th,” he said gently. “Taungsday. I returned a day late from my solo mission. Do you remember that?”

Obi-Wan’s tears had increased throughout the brief speech. “Y-yes.”

“All right,” said Qui-Gon, struggling to remain as calm and patient as possible. “All right. Can you tell me what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, his expression crumbling. Suddenly he very much resembled the boy Qui-Gon had met on Bandomeer, uncertain and frightened, although even then he had not cried. This was different.

“Are you sure?” Qui-Gon pressed.

Obi-Wan nodded, strangling a loud sob by clapping one hand over his mouth. He said something, but of course it was impossible to understand behind his clamped fingers.

“What?” asked his Master.

“...so...stupid,” Obi-Wan burst out angrily through his tears. “I just... don’t feel well.”

“Don’t feel well?” Qui-Gon stared at his apprentice in confusion. “You’re sick? Obi-Wan, why didn’t you just go to the Halls?”

Obi-Wan shuddered. More tears slid down over his flushed cheeks. “I...I...I fell,” he said, sounding deeply uncertain. “I was working, and it was late, and I fell. I think I fell. I can’t walk. I can barely move. I don’t know how long it’s been—”

Qui-Gon was already moving, alarm ringing in his head like sirens. In two seconds he had Obi-Wan in his arms, cradled like a child, his head resting under Qui-Gon’s chin.

“You shouldn’t be this easy to carry,” he said tensely. “You haven’t had anything to eat or drink since you fell?”

“Some... some water,” Obi-Wan murmured. His skin was blazing hot against Qui-Gon’s, a sick and feverish heat. He had stopped crying — his tears seemed to have stemmed from a combination of confusion and shame, not pain — but he seemed on the verge of passing out. “I... I got some water... don’t remember when...”

“Stay awake,” Qui-Gon ordered. He was striding down the hallways, ignoring the few bystanders who watched them pass with bewilderment and concern. He did send a grateful nod to one young woman who raised her comm in her hand at him, asking a silent question, and at his gesture raised it to her lips and murmured ‘Tell the Healers that Master Jinn is bringing in his Padawan. Have someone ready.’

Obi-Wan murmured something vague.

“Stay awake,” insisted Qui-Gon. “Don’t fall asleep.”

Obi-Wan moaned but nodded, forcing his eyes to stay open. “I...I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” The words came out harsh and insincere in Qui-Gon’s urgency, and he realized it, because he dropped a swift kiss to the top of the fevered head in apology. Obi-Wan relaxed ever so slightly.

They arrived in the Halls of Healing and were immediately received by a Healer and his apprentice, who had Obi-Wan safely tucked in a bed and monitored in less than two minutes. Obi-Wan had closed his eyes against the bright light and seemed in danger of falling asleep again.

“Stay awake just a little longer, Padawan Kenobi,” the Healer instructed kindly. “I’m fairly sure of your diagnosis but I have to be more certain before I can administer treatment. Then you can sleep.”

“Yes, Healer,” rasped the young man.

Qui-Gon watched from the wall, his hands tucked deep in his sleeves to hide how they trembled. The shock of the last quarter hour was setting in, and he scrambled to keep his wits about him, worried about what this diagnosis might be. He still remembered Obi-Wan’s confusion about the day, his bewildered tears, and that memory was not going to be going away anytime soon.

He had been far too light in his arms.

Just how long had Obi-Wan been trapped in their rooms, unable to call for help and too confused to figure out a way around that? How long had he gone without eating and sleeping?

He found out.

An hour later, Obi-Wan was fast asleep, hooked up to an IV and blissfully pain-free due to a dose of pills he had managed to swallow. The Healer turned to Qui-Gon with a weary smile.

“You’re all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I’ve just returned from a mission, but I wasn’t hurt.”

“That’s good to know. I was asking about shock, however,” the Healer said gently. “I know this can’t have been a pleasant homecoming.”

Qui-Gon’s throat tightened, but he said nothing.

The Healer seemed to understand. “Obi-Wan has contracted a strain of the flu,” he explained, moving past the brief surge of emotion. “As you know, most strains of the flu are easily combated these days and many species have evolved or inoculated to the point where it’s hardly a concern. But sometimes the flu is stronger. In this case, it’s clear that it’s job was made easy. I don’t think Padawan Kenobi was eating or sleeping properly before the sickness began to set in. It would explain the severity of his malnutrition, and his confusion.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes flickered to the bed where Obi-Wan was sleeping, the fever still burning in his cheeks.

“...How long?” he asked.

“A few days at most,” the Healer said. “But I suspect it’s a habit that’s related to stress and overwork. Does Obi-Wan struggle with stress or insomnia?”

The Master hesitated a moment, opening his mouth to deny it, and then stopping to think better of it.

“...Maybe,” he admitted. The hesitation stung. Shouldn’t he know? “He’s very private with his habits when we’re in Temple. He prefers to study alone in his room, and we usually only manage to share one meal a day during his busier semesters, if that.”

The Healer nodded. He didn’t look or sound at all accusatory when he said, “That’s understandable. I’m going to suggest keeping a closer eye on that. Don’t force him out of his comfort zone, at least not right away, but make sure he understands that three square meals — or better yet, a light meal or snack every two or three hours — is expected of him. As is sleep.”

Qui-Gon nodded, his throat tightening again to the point of pain.

“Rest easy, Master Jinn,” said the Healer, briefly laying a supportive hand on the taller Jedi’s shoulder. “He’ll pull through this. The illness, and everything else. I believe it’s nothing more than a bad habit formed from good intentions. There are crueler demons out there.”

“Yes, I know,” said Qui-Gon. And he did know. One didn’t reach Jedi Mastery without learning the galaxy for what it was.

But he didn’t think he would ever quite move past the shock of today, of carrying his adult apprentice in his arms, sick to the point of tears and helplessness, and then discovering that he could possibly have prevented this if he had paid a little more attention to Obi-Wan’s work habits.

Well. They would, as the Healer said, overcome this.

Qui-Gon drew up a chair to the side of the bed, resolving to wait until Obi-Wan woke, and slowly reached out and set his hand next to his Padawan’s. After a moment, Obi-Wan stirred, and even in his sleep he gave a contented sigh and shifted his hand, his fingers searching blindly for his Master’s hand. Qui-Gon took it and held it tightly.

They had overcome so many things in nearly a decade together.

They could handle this.

And besides, Qui-Gon told himself, even after Obi-Wan was Knighted, he would always be here to watch his back.

He would never abandon Obi-Wan.

_

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

seeing someone else.

BISHOP LOSA. MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ request by @encounterthepast: Hello lovely Aurora, can I request angst prompt number 7 with Bishop please, thank you, 💕

❝ prompt: “Don’t you dare to lie to me again”.

❝ request by @arveeee: Hello my dear, so I was thinking, and there is one sentence to that can't go out of my head. So it is: "let me in" with Bishop (I know I'm boring). Well I believe in you, I love you , and I love your writing. Say hello to Arya.

❝ request by anon: Hi, Aurora. I love your writing sm 🥺 I was wondering if I could request an imagine with my man Bishop? I was thinking of something like the reader and him being in kinda like a friends with benefits situation, but she decides to break it offf because she’s really upset. And maybe Bishop doesn’t understand so she eventually explains to him that she wants more out of their relationship and he reassures her they are more and they always have been? Maybe leads to like soft/romantic smut? Thanks so much!

❝ request by @meteora-fc: hello hello! so, that new trailer huh?😵 would absolutely love if you could write me something for a stressed out bishop with the prompts "Stop ignoring me, it’s driving me crazy!" and "Let me help you make it better." Thank you tons!!💖

❝ words: about 1.4k.

❝ a / n: as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

Another tequila shot goes down your throat, ripping it off as you almost smash the small glass on the table. Tossing your head back as you rest your back against the sofa, sitting on the floor, you take a look around you. The gloomy has taken over your house as the night has fallen a couple of hours ago. It's the fourth night you are trying to forget about Bishop and whatever you two had. But you can't dismiss from your mind his caresses —his fingers drawing patterns on your back, his lips touring your neck with delicate kisses as if he was afraid of breaking your skin, his mustache tickling your inner thighs, his raspy voice articulating your name in moans. It's the fourth night miserably failing, remembering the last time you spent together, the way he was holding his back pretending he wasn't sad because you were leaving him.

“Obispo, it's over. Don't make a big deal. We're just friends who occasionally fucks”. You scoffed somewhat annoyed because of him and his interrogation, but how could you tell him you were falling in love with him?

“I ain't making any deal, (Y/N). I just want to know what made you change your mind and keep a wide berth”.

“I'm seeing someone else”.

"Don't you dare to lie to me”. He growled, taking a step closer towards you with the intention of stopping you from picking up and packing the less stuff you had in his house.

“Think what you want”. You replied, rolling your eyes.

The first tear flows in the left corner of your mouth not appreciably at first, but then, some more until finding yourself crying. You miss him so much. You miss watching him sleep peacefully in the small hours, drifting slightly when you caress his cheek using your fingertips. Flexing your knees to your chest, you wrap your arms around trying to contain the loud sobs, hiding your face between them. How have you been so stupid to fall for him like that? The two of you made it clear from the very first moment. Friends with benefits. But after a couple of weeks, you started to notice that he used to push away any other woman that it wasn't you, he didn't spend much time in the clubhouse preferring to do it in your house —cuddling, watching movies, playing poker; kissing every single inch of flesh covering your anatomy.

Reality hit you the moment he murmured something like you're a miracle, thinking you were calmly sleeping between his strong arms and your back stuck to his chest, no distance among your bodies. You knew it was a thing produced by the alcohol running through your veins and it wasn't fair for you to fantasize about the idea he was catching feelings for you. So you just ran away, like a coward.

Some clumsy knocks on the front door of your house bring you back to reality. At first, you try to ignore them. It's not like you're in the mood for visits, knowing that probably it's Leti at the other side of the place, worried because you haven't replied to her text all day. But she insists and insists. And you know how stubborn she can be sometimes. Serving yourself another shot and drinking it in just one gulp, because you're too sober to endure another of her Ted talks about positivism and what he has lost, you stand up on your bare feet. Everything around you spins dizzyingly for a second until you can react, feeling every knock like a hammer hitting your brain.

“I've heard you the fi—”.

Opening the door to receive her, your vocals get frozen as you face Bishop in a deplorable drunk state. Just like you are.

“Let me in”. He barks, not being able to look at your eyes, trying to pass you away to the inside, but you stop him.

“Go home, Obis—”.

“I'm home, shut the fuck up”. He frowns taking a sip from a bottle of whisky you haven't noticed till now. “You think you can kick my fuckin' ass outta your life by saying you're seeing someone else? You think I'm fuckin' stupid, queri— Were you crying…?”

From anger, his tone of voice falls to one lower and lower, as the concern and the worry cover his annoyance completely. Throwing away his drink to somewhere over the grass of your yard, he holds your face onto his palms. His touch causes you to tremble. His warm touch causes you to break into aching sobs, panting as you can't breathe properly. All this time you've been thinking you have missed him, but you didn't have a real idea of how it feels until his fingers have been laid on your wetted skin.

Bishop comes closer to you, touching the tip of your nose with his. You can smell the mixed scent of cigarettes and whisky emanating from his cracked lips, it doesn't bother you, tho. “Don't kiss me, please”.

Until this precise moment, he has loved your begs and pleads to his bones, but now he hates them more than anything he could ever hate in his life. It breaks his heart. He can't deal with your rejection one night more.

“Why…? Why can't I kiss you?” He asks desperately at the edge of his tears. “Please, stop ignoring me, it's driving me crazy. I can't even take care of my own shit without you by my side”.

Your knees feel weak at his words, still believing he only says that because you're just a good lover, the best in the sheets, as he told you once.

“I… I…” You babble nervously, trying to not place your hands on the laps of his leather kutte to finally push him into the needed kiss you've been craving for the last four days. “I love you”.

And why the confession doesn't take him by surprise? Why doesn't he look confused? Why does it seem like he already knew it? Bishop can't help but draw a fleeting grin across his face.

“Do you think I came here, falling into pieces, just because it feels like being in Heaven when I'm deep inside you?” He whispers, clicking his tongue slightly. “I didn't believe you when you told me you were seeing someone else. But the minimal thought I could have about it made me lose the less sanity I have”.

You blink stupefied at his own confession about his feelings. Your fingers tour his abdomen up in slow motion, starting to have some faith in his words.

“Mi amor…” Bishop mumbles in soft giggles shaking his head. “I adore you, mi amor. I don't want anything else than to share my life with you, and only with you”.

He doesn't wait for a signal from you to kiss your lips, he just takes what it's his. And you can't hold back a painful gasp, expelling in it all the sorrow you've been carrying for the last four days being separated from him. Your hands grip his shirt in two fists, pushing him as much closer as the two of you can be, about to melt in the same figure. All this time you have been trying to not love him, to forget him; and you were just delaying the inevitable. You are made for each other, that's a fact. Your lips fit to perfection —your bodies, your hearts.

“Tell me you love me”. You whimper against his mouth, causing him to smile because of your need of making it real by these simple three words.

“Love isn't enough to express what you make me feel”.

Bishop bends down without prior notice to wrap his huge hands on the back of your thighs, urging you to jump onto him and surround his waist with your legs. You haven't forgotten how good his warmth takes over you when he holds you like that, walking inside your house and kicking the door close. Guiding his steps across your place and its hallways, he reaches your dark dorm barely illuminated by a post light outdoors. He lies you down on your bed —a bed that has welcomed you for the last eight months in every kind of state. Drunk, tired, happy.

Now, you're a mix of them. Drunk in tequila, tired of crying, but happy for having him back for the rest of your life.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221 @littlekittymeow @tenderclio @badame1240 @regalbanshee @greeneyedblondie44 @phoenixhalliwell @codenamewife

MAYANS MC: @multiyfandomgirl40 @countryash345 @skyofficialxx @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @oscars-wifeyyy @meteora-fc @lozaa94 @arveee @joupym @hanster1998 @missswritings @arana-alpha

[emptyacnt]

Made for love (Sanemi x F! Reader) NSFW

Minors DNI!

The battle was over. His brother was dead. Sanemi now had no one, he had no family, he didn't even have a reason to be a swordsman anymore. He wanted to retire comfortably, but how could he when fighting was the only thing he could ever do right. He moved. Away from where demon slayer headquarters had once been to a small home several days walk away. In the mornings he would sit on his porch and watch the sun rise, and allow himself to cry. It seemed no matter how many mornings this happened, he always had more tears. Tears he had been holding in his entire life.

One day as he did this, he heard a strange rustling noise and instinctively his hand went to the sword at his hip. He couldn't bring himself to stop carrying it for the comfort it brought him. He was surprised to see a large yellow and white dog bound towards him, it's mouth open and tongue lolling out, tail wagging furiously.

"A.. dog?" He said, reaching out his hand as the dog approached him, barking a friendly hello as he nuzzled against Sanemi's hands.

"Are you lost?" He asked. Around the dog's neck was a red collar with a bell and a name tag.

"Hacchan, that you?" He asked. Hacchan barked in response.

"Hacchan! Hacchan!!" A distinctly female voice cried as you came running up the path, chasing Hacchan who had broken away from you to chase an interesting scent. That scent had been Sanemi.

"I'm so sorry sir!" You apologized, bowing deeply.

"It's alright. I like dogs." Sanemi replied, scratching behind Hacchan's fuzzy ears.

"Did you just move here?" He asked, furiously wiping his face to make sure you didn't notice a single tear.

"Yes, we did! Just down the road. Hacchan was friends with all my neighbors back then, I guess he's lonely now with just me.." You said sadly.

"Why'd you move?" Sanemi asked. You hesitated to reply.

"You don't gotta tell me if you don't wanna." He said, shrugging.

"I had been engaged. My fiance imagined I was cheating on him, I wasn't, but he told everyone I did. I was shunned and we had to move." You confessed. Hacchan, sensing your sadness, came to press himself against your side.

"He sounds like a cunt." Sanemi said simply.

You were shocked by his vulgarity.

"What about you? Why did you move out here?" You asked.

"I was a swordsman. But now I guess. I'm just a man." Sanemi said. The sorrow in his voice was so heavy it made you want to cry.

From that day forward Hacchan insisted on visiting Sanemi every morning on your walks, and you began bringing him gifts. When you made dinner in the evening you always brought him a portion the next time you saw him. If you bought tea, you bought enough to share. While Sanemi didn't seem to react one way or the other to this, it certainly didn't go unnoticed. And finally one morning when you were about to turn to continue your walk with Hacchan, he reached out and grabbed your hand.

"Marry me." He said. It wasn't a question, more of a demand. He felt ready to begin the next chapter of his life, to take a wife, to start a family.

You and Hacchan moved in with him shortly after. Though even after living with him for three months, he would never say he loved you and you still hadn't slept together. Finally you got fed up with this, wondering why he asked you to move in with him if he didn't intend to act like a couple with you. He was sitting on your shared futon reading and you settled yourself onto his lap. He looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Sanemi, do you love me?" You asked.

Sanemi didn't reply. He seemed to be thinking for a long time.

"I don't know. I want to love you. I can't tell. The only people I have ever truly loved are dead. Perhaps if I let myself love you, you will die too. Or maybe, I am simply not built to love." He said, an edge of anger in his voice. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing his head against your soft chest.

"Of course you are built for love, everyone is!" You said. Sanemi made a strange almost growl as he pushed himself away from you, tearing open your yukata. He ripped the fabric off of your shoulders, exposing your breasts and completely tearing your obi in half. You had never experienced strength like that, and you sat there stunned on his lap, almost completely exposed to him.

"How can you say that? My hands are trained to kill demons and that's it, I'm not good at anything else, I don't know how to make them do anything else, I only know how to destroy." He said, his voice cracking under the weight of tears that wouldn't come.

"You are made for love. You can do more than destroy." You said, quietly but sternly nonetheless. You took his hands, so much larger and rougher than yours, pressing them against your breasts. Your nipples, already hard, pressed against the palms of his hands and he groaned as he felt his cock beginning to harden.

"You can be gentle." You said, leaning forward to kiss him as you moved his hands in slow circles on your breasts. Sanemi stared at your chest when you broke the kiss, flexing his fingers as he groped and kneaded you, pinching and twisting your nipples.

"A-ah! Gentle!" You said.

Sanemi grunted in reply and leaned down to take one of your nipples in his mouth, he bit it, but before you could scold him he was suckling and licking it with perfect gentleness. His hands slid the remains of your yukata off and then snaked up and down your body, rubbing your back, your arms, your hips and ass. He finally released your breast and looked up at you.

"You're so damn soft. Squishy, warm.." He mused, hugging you so he could feel your breasts press up against his scarred chest.

“Wanna know what you feel like in here..” he said, brushing two of his calloused fingers against your cunt. He pushed your panties aside, swirling his fingertips around your entrance.

“Already wet, huh?” he said, smirking at you.

“Well I.. Love you a lot Nemi.. I’ve wanted to be with you for a while..” you confessed.

Sanemi looked up at you, placing a rough hand on your cheek.

"I love you." He said. It hurt him to say it. The only people he had ever said that to were dead. You noticed how he seemed to become lost in thought, or dragged away from this moment by some painful distant memory.

“Stay here, with me.” you said gently as you kissed him.

Sanemi tangled his fingers into your hair, kissing you deeply while he shoved two fingers into you, curling them against your g-spot roughly. You gasped and arched your back, and Sanemi held you close, pressing you to him.

"Tell me how it feels." he growled against your neck, reaching his free hand down to untie his hakama, reaching into them to stroke himself.

"Feels good.." you managed between soft moans.

"Your fingers are rough b-but, it feels good.."

Sanemi deftly flipped you over, pressing your legs to your chest as he kissed you gently. His body was so warm and strong, your eyes fluttered shut as you enjoyed the comfort of being so close to him, until he shoved himself into you in one hard thrust. You gasped as your eyes flew open. Sanemi fucked you slowly, painfully slowly. Dragging his cock out slow and pushing it back in all the way to your cervix.

"N-Nemi, faster please!" you begged, holding onto his biceps tightly.

"Faster? I thought you wanted me to be gentle." he said, his tone teasing and sarcastic.

"Sanemi please, you feel so good-" you gasped as he picked up his pace immediately, ruthlessly pounding you into the futon.

"You feel so fucking good baby.." he growled.

"Tight, so warm.." he said, he grunted with practically every thrust, his eyes squeezed shut as he focused on the feeling of your slick walls around him.

"I should've done this a long time ago.." he said, licking your neck before biting it hard. Any wish you had for him to be gentle with you was gone.

"I-I wanted you to!" you managed, words becoming more and more difficult as your climax approached.

"Yeah? Did you want me to just force you down and dominate this little cunt?" he asked you bit your lip, your eyes rolling back as the lewdness of his words pushed you over the edge. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to open your mouth.

"Lemme hear you, you're gonna make me cum.." he said as he fucked you even harder, a punishing pace as you gushed around him. You were nearly screaming by now, unable to even continue holding onto his arms as your body trembled. The sight of you so completely destroyed because of him, and only him, made him finally climax. You could feel his release, his hot cum filling you up as he let out a feral growl. He stayed inside of you for a while after he finished, panting against your neck.

"I love you." he said breathlessly, kissing your cheek gently.

"I love you too, Nemi." you said, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly.

[tennessoui]

Pleaseeee do 43 or 46. I love your work btw

(insert months late panicked noises about how I thought 45 was 'falling in love with best friend's partner' and so wrote hold me fast for it, but actually 43 is 'falling in love with best friend's partner' very whoops very my b)

so i did 43 again anyway, but in a modern au and where the couple is actually in love (but it is an obikin happy ending because kit did write it)

(wife is unnamed the entire time so no character bashing it could literally be anyone ive been calling her rebecca in my head lmao)

43. Falling In Love With Best Friend's Partner (2.7k.......)

Obi-Wan’s kettle goes off with a whistle right as there’s a fierce banging on the door. He almost drops his favorite mug in surprise, which puts him in a bad mood from the get-go. But for the love of Christ, who would come call at his house at nine at night? It’s more than rude; it’s downright indecent.

He stalks through the house until he can unlock the door to give the person on his porch a piece of his mind, but then he sees who it is.

It’s Anakin, and he’s crying.

If there’s anything that can make Obi-Wan quiet his temper on a normal day, it’s Anakin Skywalker. A distressed Anakin Skywalker brings out every ounce of his compassion.

“Anakin?” He asks immediately, stepping forward to touch the man on his arm gently and guide him inside. He doesn’t even have to suppress a sigh when Anakin doesn’t remember to toe off his shoes in the entry way--that’s how worried he is at Anakin’s tears and the way they only increase in frequency and sound when Obi-Wan moves his hand to his back and pushes him further into his house, all the way to the dining table where he urges him to sit down.

Anakin still hasn’t said anything resembling actual words yet, so Obi-Wan goes to the kitchen to make them both a cup of tea. It’s either that or give into the temptation to thumb the tear tracks off of his cheeks and that’s a little more revealing than Obi-Wan likes.

He’s not that brave, for one.

For another, Anakin is a married man. A man married to one of Obi-Wan’s closest friends, a previous grad student turned co-author of at least seven publications, with more on the way. He can’t risk tenderly wiping away her husband’s tears because Obi-Wan Kenobi has been at least a little in love with him since they were introduced four years ago, when he’d swanned up to him holding two champagne glasses in one hand and stuck out the other to shake. “My wife talks about you nonstop, Professor,” he’d said. “I used to be so jealous until I sat in on one of your lectures when I was still in school. Made sense then.”

Obi-Wan had not known what to do with that, but had taken the proffered champagne glass and assured this strange man he had nothing to worry about.

After all, Obi-Wan wasn’t the sort of man to chase after former students or people in marriages.

Over the next few years, however, it became quite clear to him that there was a big addendum needed in his moral code: people in marriages to former students drew his eyes apparently the way no one else has ever managed to in his life.

Or perhaps it was just Anakin. Perhaps it’s always been just Anakin.

Coming to terms with the shameful, quiet love he carried for a man who flirts like it’s second nature and always has a warm touch or word to bestow on Obi-Wan had been difficult, to say the least.

Anakin’s wife had been one of Obi-Wan’s closest friends. His inconvenient and persistent feelings for Anakin had turned her into one thing only: his wife. They could not be friends when Obi-Wan spends half his nights wondering what it would be like to sleep with his arms around her husband. They could not be friends when the last dozen times the married couple had invited him over for dinner, he had paid more attention to her husband than to the food or to the other topics of conversation or to her.

And she has to know. She has to know why their latest paper has taken eight months to write. She has to have seen the way Obi-Wan perks up so obviously when Anakin brings his wife her lunch, the way he has to turn away from their chaste kisses, the way he listens keenly to any information she gives him on her husband, the way he had excused himself from the room when he heard her tell another colleague that they were trying for children.

In academia, you learn fairly quickly that it is useless to resent someone for having what you do not. It seems that Obi-Wan has to learn this lesson all over again when it comes to people. It’s hard. It’s selfish. He hates that he loves Anakin. He hates that he loves Anakin the way he does, that it’s been four years and he still loves him, that not even his happy marriage, his love for his wife, the fact that his wife is Obi-Wan’s friend, can change it.

Anakin considers them friends now, which is so much worse and yet still more than a pathetic old man like Obi-Wan deserves. Worse, because when Obi-Wan had started rejecting dinners at the Skywalker household, Anakin had pushed back with worry. When he’d noticed that Obi-Wan’s lunch most often consisted of whatever cold cut sandwich was on sale at the gas station next to campus, he’d started bringing Obi-Wan a lunch along with his wife. When Obi-Wan had stopped responding to his texts, he showed up to drag him to a night out.

Worse, because being Anakin’s friend is nothing like being his husband, and the differences make him ache as much as the acts of kindness make him want to weep.

It’s still more than Obi-Wan deserves. He knows that intimately, the way he knows that nothing can ever happen between the two of them because Anakin loves his wife. And his wife--

“She cheated on me,” Anakin gets out between uneven breaths.

Obi-Wan promptly drops his favorite mug and watches it shatter on the floor.

“Oh!” Anakin exclaims at the loud noise, peeking around the corner, and looking like he’s about to offer to help. Obi-Wan shoos him out of the kitchen, and grabs the remaining mug of tea to follow him. The mess can wait for a later time.

“What did you say?” he asks carefully, nudging the mug over to Anakin, who wraps his hands around it.

Anakin blinks up at him wetly. “Don’t make me say it again.”

Obi-Wan drags his chair closer and dares to lay a hand over Anakin’s arm, watching his face for any negative reaction. Anakin just looks at it though, as if he can’t even comprehend it.

“Please, tell me what happened,” he entreats softly.

Anakin blinks and takes a sip of the tea. It’s chamomile, which is the only tea blend Obi-Wan knows Anakin likes.

“I, um.” Anakin clears his throat and reaches up to wipe at his eyes. Obi-Wan thinks his breath leaves his body for a second when he sees the slighter lighter ring of skin around Anakin’s fourth finger. He never thought he’d see what that sliver of skin looks like.

“I came back early from a work trip, cause. Um. Cause we’ve been having problems,” he starts with a quick side glance at Obi-Wan. “Just some fighting. Going to bed angry. I guess stuff you’re never supposed to do.”

Obi-Wan tries to arrange his face in an expression meant to convey that he definitely knows what stuff one is supposed to do in a marriage.

“So I thought I could, you know. Surprise her. But when I got in, there was someone else in the house. In our bed, Obi-Wan, she fucked someone else in our bed. I--” Anakin starts crying dropping his head into his hands and dislodging Obi-Wan’s arm completely.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan murmurs, at a loss for what to say. He settles for kneeling down next to Anakin and rubbing his knee. This is platonic.This is fine. This isn’t taking advantage of Anakin in this state.

Obi-Wan has absolutely no desire to take advantage of Anakin in this state, not when he’s so hurt and sad and in need of comfort. Obi-Wan just wants to provide him with comfort, but it feels like a grievous violation to touch Anakin like this willingly. It breaks one of his most cardinal rules.

But it turns out he’d break a lot of rules for Anakin, apparently.

Especially when Anakin responds so well to his touch, practically throwing himself out of his own chair and into Obi-Wan’s arms, tea forgotten on the table.

“How am I supposed to go back there?” He sobs into Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I thought...we were supposed to raise kids in that house and she...she’s been...she’s been cheating on me in our bed--”

Obi-Wan tentatively strokes through his hair, adding pressure when Anakin reacts positively. He hates seeing him like this, so torn up and aching. He’d loved his wife, it’s so clear to see.

But Anakin has always struck Obi-Wan as the sort of person to put loyalty over everything else. For his wife to break his trust so suddenly and quickly must spell the death of his love for her. That must be what Obi-Wan is witnessing now, with Anakin, sans wedding ring, sobbing into his arms like this. This must be how Anakin’s love dies.

“I’m so sorry, Anakin,” he murmurs into the man’s temple, pressing his nose there at his hairline and inhaling as softly as he can. He’s disgusted with himself. He can’t help himself. He--

“She said she loved him,” Anakin sniffles, seemingly unaware of anything but his own pain. Obi-Wan gathers him closer at these words and rubs at his back, offering silent comfort. To have Anakin close like this is agony, but to be an appropriate distance away from him as he fell apart would also be agony of a different sort.

And if the last four years have proven anything, Obi-Wan will choose the agony that causes Anakin any modicum of happiness he can give him.

“She said--” here Anakin pauses and takes several deep breaths against the cotton of Obi-Wan’s now damp sleepshirt. “She said she didn’t when they started, but then I--I didn’t notice and it--she said it just happened, but--”

He breaks off and freezes in Obi-Wan’s arms quite suddenly. Obi-Wan stills his own hands in response. “But?” he asks, barely more than an exhale.

“But she said she couldn’t feel sorry about it,” Anakin whispers back, pulling away so that he can look at Obi-Wan’s face.

Obi-Wan stares at him, uncomprehending. Anakin’s wife is the unapologetic sort of woman, yes, but to be caught cheating on her husband and then refuse to apologize for the betrayal? That’s something else entirely. “What?” he stutters out in a completely unflattering way.

Anakin’s eyes glisten, but he purses his lips and flexes his jaw before he speaks again. “She said she couldn’t feel sorry about falling in love with someone else because it’s quite clear I’ve done the same thing. And--and she may have physically cheated on me first, but I’ve...I’ve been emotionally unfaithful to her for years now.”

Obi-Wan blinks quite a bit and very fast, tightening his hold on Anakin before pulling away just as quickly. “That’s absurd,” he spits out, trying to calm his rushing heartbeat. “Anakin, you’re the most loyal person I know. You would never--”

“She was right,” Anakin cuts him off, breaking eye contact with him to look over his shoulder and then down at...at his lips. “I didn’t even realize she was right until she said it, but. But I’ve been in love with someone else for three years of my five year marriage. I--I’m not who we thought I was.”

And his eyes well up with tears again and Obi-Wan isn’t strong enough this time from stopping himself from reaching out and brushing one of his tears away with the pad of his thumb.

“Anakin, you’re not…” thinking straight, serious, in your right mind, in love with anyone but your wife. “You’re hurting, Anakin,” he settles on saying. “You need to...sleep. To rest.”

You need to stop saying things that will break my heart in a few days when you realize you don’t actually mean them.

But Anakin has always been stubborn, especially when it comes to Obi-Wan’s demands. “Obi-Wan,” he insists, shoving his face forward so that their heads connect with a thump. “Obi-Wan, it’s you. It’s been you. For. For longer than I knew. For three years at least. Maybe longer. It should have been you from the beginning. When--”

“Anakin, please,” he finds himself begging, scrambling up and off the floor and away from this troublesome man. “Do not say anything you cannot take back. You are in distress, you’re not thinking clearly.”

Anakin follows him to his feet. “I need to say this,” he says, voice breaking. “Please, Obi-Wan. Let me say this.”

Obi-Wan has never known how to say no to Anakin. He closes his mouth instead.

“Before we even started dating, that’s when I sat in on your lecture. When we were seniors. I just wanted to see. Wanted to know why she liked you so much, measure up my competition. But then I liked you, more than I’ve ever liked a guy before. And it only got worse after I met you again, at that party, I don’t know if you remember, but. The days after, I drove my wife insane asking questions about you and your work and your interests and your hobbies, and I didn’t even realize I was doing it.

“You were just...you were so amazing. But I loved her so much I didn’t even notice I had any love left in my heart to give to anyone else, but then there you were. There you were and every time I saw you it was like...coming up for air. Like I was living someone else’s life and then sometimes I just got to be myself and it was only ever when you were around and--I didn’t know it was love until my wife told me tonight that she fucked another man because she couldn’t stand that I fell in love with one first, and I knew immediately who she was talking about. It was you. It’s...Obi-Wan, it’s always been you.”

Anakin closes the distance between them slowly, as if he’s giving Obi-Wan a chance to run. Obi-Wan does consider it, he won’t lie, but he stands stock still as if frozen to the ground. Anakin reaches up gently and wipes at one of his tears. Obi-Wan hadn’t even realized he started crying.

“Please don’t cry,” Anakin whispers through his tears. “I understand if you--if you don’t feel the same way, but I couldn’t be quiet about it once I realized. I don’t know how to love quietly.”

Obi-Wan does. Obi-Wan’s spent four years loving Anakin quietly, and now he doesn’t have any words left in him to love him out loud.

Anakin’s hand falls away from his face at his continued silence and he looks, if possible, more heartbroken. “I...I understand,” he murmurs. “You don’t feel the way I do. I--yes. I get it. I...deserve it.”

At this, Obi-Wan has to say something because it’s been one of the tenets of his world for years now that Anakin Skywalker deserves all the love there is in the entire universe. “No,” he says roughly, dragging the words kicking and screaming from the pit of his stomach. “It’s not that. It’s--”

Anakin looks at him with wide, wet, blue eyes.

“It’s that if you...if I say it and then...tomorrow you decide you don’t mean it...darling you have to know there would be no recovering from that, for me. I’ve been so obvious.”

Anakin blinks as the words register in his brain, and Obi-Wan can tell the exact moment they do because he inches closer and clutches tightly onto his shirt. “You’ve not been obvious at all,” he murmurs, eyes still shining, even as he directs his entire attention to his lips.

“What would I need to do?” Obi-Wan breathes, aching to wrap his arms around his waist and terrified that doing so will startle Anakin away from him. “What would I need to do for you to understand how much I...how much I’ve loved you for all these years?”

“Kiss me,” Anakin whispers, leaning down as if drawn by some magnetic pull.

Obi-Wan knows he will hate himself in the morning for giving in when Anakin is so obviously grief-stricken and looking for no-strings-attached physical comfort. And yet, he meets him halfway anyway.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(Clone Wars) Captain Rex x Reader: After the Escape

   (Author’s Note:  I’m like internally screaming right now because I love Rex and this hit the spot.  Hope you enjoy!

Warnings- mentions of the Zygerrian episodes and slavery, some injuries)

   You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly to help put your mind at ease as you stood in a nook in a hall aboard the Republic cruiser. You had expected the mission to be difficult, but you had not anticipated the events to play out the way they did.  The mission to Zygerria to free the people of Kiros had been successful, but not without hardship.  Suddenly, you felt a familiar presence approach from behind.  A warm hand found yours with the gentle brush of your fingers.  You grasped it, sighing when you felt an armored chest touch your back.

   “Here,” Rex murmured, and you saw brown fabric out of the corner of your eye.  You gratefully accepted your jedi cloak that he offered up to you.  Ever the gentleman, he looked the other way as you eased it over your form with a wince.  The outfit the Zygerrians gave you could’ve been worse, but it certainly wasn’t as modest as the robes you were used to.  At the sound of your wince, Rex’s gaze snapped back to you.  “Are you okay?”  

   You frowned when you took in his battered state.  His time on Kadavo did not look as if it was pleasant.  Neither him nor Obi-Wan were in good shape when they boarded the cruiser.

“Yeah,” you replied, forcing a smile.  “I was working in the palace, remember?  The uniform wasn’t the greatest, but it was nothing like what you and Obi-Wan had to deal with.”  You had been through more than you’d let on.  Rex had already been through a lot, and you didn’t want him to worry about you on top of it.  He didn’t look entirely convinced, but he didn’t say anything more on the matter.  He simply pulled you into a gentle embrace, letting you bury your face in his shoulder and breathe another sigh of relief.  “I’m glad we all made it out.”

   He hummed in agreement, his hand running up and down your arm in a repetitive, soothing motion.  You were able to hold back the wince that time, but there was no keeping Rex from noticing the way you tensed.  He took your hand in his and lifted it, letting the sleeve of your robe fall down your arm.

   “They...they hurt you,” he said.  You followed his gaze to the dark splotches on your wrist that had begun to bloom.  Rex’s brows furrowed as he inspected the wound and lifted your other hand to see a matching bruise there as well.  “Those kriffing-” he growled under his breath.

   “It’s over now.”  You tugged your hands away from his.  “Besides, I’m not crazy about them hurting you either.”  Strangely enough, tears had begun to well up in your eyes.  Not once during the mission had you succumbed to feeling hopeless enough to shed a tear.  Only when seeing your loved one covered in soot and with marks of his own did the emotions finally hit you.  “I’m sorry, Rex.”

   He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head so he could look into your eyes.  “What are you sorry for?”

   “That we were separated.  I should’ve been sent to Kadavo.”

   “You did your part.  You followed the plan and arrived with the General and Commander.  It was very important.”

   “I know, but…” you paused as he wiped a stray tear from your cheek.  “I wasn’t going to.  I was going to forsake the plan.  That’s how I got these,” you gestured to your wrist.  “I acted up in hopes that they’d send me to Kadavo, but they didn’t.  I was punished instead.”

   “_________.”

   “I know, I shouldn’t-”

   “__________, I’m trying to tell you that I don’t blame you.”  He cupped your cheek and leaned in to gaze into your eyes.  “If I could have escaped Kadavo sooner, I would’ve done the same.  I just wish you hadn’t put yourself at risk.”

   “It was nothing.  Besides, it made me less appealing to my captor.  He wasn’t interested in such a rebellious female.”

   “Good, because if he touched you…” The protective fire in his eyes diminished to be replaced by intrigue.  “Wait, what did you do to him exactly?”

   “I sort of roundhouse-kicked him in the face in front of the queen.  Made Anakin laugh.”

   Rex snorted, pulling you into another embrace and patted your back in approval.  “That’s my girl.”  You smiled as you shut your eyes and enjoyed the contact for a little longer.  The moment wouldn’t last forever.  Soon, you’d be summoned for a report to the Jedi Council.  Perhaps you and Rex could more properly catch up in the mess hall later on, but then you’d be in a community space where you’d have to keep a little distance.

   You leaned out of the embrace to press your lips to his longingly.  No amount of time felt like enough.  It didn’t matter whether it was a few minutes or hours: It always came to an end.  Rex returned the kiss firmly, reassuring you.  You felt tired and weak and in need of comfort, and he was there.  He was there to be what you were to him.  When he was feeling similarly to the way you did in that moment, you were there.  The kiss you shared was all of these things at once, and the weight of the emotions that swam around in your head made your knees buckle.  Your hands grasped his broad shoulders tightly, and his arms went around you as his lips found yours again before trailing to your ear.  The torrent  of emotion in your chest settled as a trickling stream when he pressed one last kiss to your cheek and pulled away, the Zygerrian chest plate rising and falling with each breath he took.  His warm eyes stared into yours for a moment before he took a step back.  You quickly realized why.

   “Oh, hey Rex.  Hey, _________,” Anakin said as he approached.  You pulled the cloak tighter of your form and tried your best to offer a casual smile.

   “Anakin, I take it we are to report to the Council?”

   “Yes, Obi-Wan is going to meet us in the briefing room.  Ahsoka is also on her way.  You ready?”

   “I need to change back into my own robes, but I’ll be there shortly.”  You nodded, sparing one last look at Rex.  “I wish you a swift recovery, Captain.”

   “Same to you, General, and uhh,” he looked to Anakin,  “General.”

   You smiled softly and headed down the hall.  However, you didn’t miss the nudge that Anakin gave Rex or the, “what was that about?” he uttered.

   Rex’s response was golden.  “Whatever do you mean, General?”

[jd-loves-fiction]

➤ Deaging fic because the fan art with baby Rex is adorable. Bonus points if Ahsoka and Anakin are deaged as well. I sort of figure it could because of some weird Force magic but whatever works for you.

➤ genre: just fluff cuz tiny babies :)

➤ 🌑Requested: @carlycrays ❤ DISCLAIMER: idk how kids work🙃 and was too lazy to look it up so yeah, enjoy this mess. Also so sorry it took this long but i was really struggling, maybe I'll use the other ideas at some point ;)

"By the Maker..." You sigh in frustration as Sivix continues to pace nervously. "How are we going to fix this, if even the Council doesn't know how?"

"Calm down. It could be worse, at least it's not a hostile planet." Sivix reasons, stopping before you.

"Yeah, but it's still out of the Republic's reach. We're alone out here and this situation is not helpful, in any way." You grumble, crossing your arms.

Captain Sivix sighs, "With all due respect, sir. I understand your concern, but obsessing over something we can't fix is not going to solve anything." he speaks resolutely, arms behind his back and spine straight as a ruler.

"You're right, you're right." You sigh, dragging a hand down your face in frustration as the captain's words settle in your mind. There's nothing you can do, at least for now.

"Why don't you go check on them?" He offers you gently and you're up on your feet before you can stop yourself by thinking too hard about the situation.

You salute the trooper guarding the barrack you step into. Once inside, all you hear are cries and coos. It would've been surprising, if it wasn't exactly what you were expecting to find.

"Well, who do we have here?" You ask playfully, with a softness not many are privy to. But how can you help it, with whom you're looking at?

High-pitched coos come to you as a response as you walk towards the sounds. "Hello there!"

Tiny hands reach out to you as you approach. You pick up baby Anakin, placing him at your hip as he giggles in delight while you bounce him slightly.

Perhaps a situation so strange would've called for a more panicked reaction, but that stage's already passed. Plus, they're all just so cute.

"Anything to report?" You ask Fives, who looks away from his now tiny Captain, knocking him over with a slight push while locking eyes with you.

"Report? General..." He trails off amusedly, holding a hand against Rex's forehead as be attempts to get to him, unsuccessfully.

You have to admit, it is certainly amusing.

You shake your head with a sigh, looking down at the child at your hip as he makes a quizzical noise. You place a soft kiss on his blond head, to which he giggles.

You put Anakin down before sitting close to Fives and Echo, who's mostly just eyeing the small Ahsoka curiously.

"Any news from General Kenobi?" Echo asks, startled as the young Togruta suddenly stumbles onto his lap. "Nope. Nothing at all. We're alone out here."

Noticing your crestfallen expression and heavy sigh, Anakin wiggles around until he can lay his head on your shoulder and wrap his tiny arms around your neck. "Aw, buddy, it's ok. We'll figure something out."

"How long do you think it'll take for him to get to us?"

"I'd say more than a few hours, but I can't be sure. Given that we're supposed to be on a mission. Our only saving grace is that we're supposed to meet with him on Kenrall, hopefully when he gets there and realizes we're not coming, he'll send someone out way." You can't help your negativity.

A crash is heard from somewhere in the corner, making you all look towards it. To find Ahsoka, who'd somehow gotten away from Echo without him noticing, holding a lightsaber oh no.

"No no no, put that down." Fives tells her sternly, finally letting go of his tiny captain, who falls on his face upon the lack of pressure.

The child immediately starts crying as Ahsoka continues to wave the activated lightsaber around while Echo attempts to get a hold of it.

Anakin reaches out with grabby hands, wanting to join in on what seems to look like fun, but you hold him steady, smiling when he looks up at you in confusion. “You don’t wanna get involved, believe me.” He pouts in response, attempting to escape your hold, to no avail.

You finally sigh at the troopers’ attempts to get the girl to let go of the dangerous weapon, raising a hand and moving it out of her hand and towards yours. Anakin looks up at you with wide, wondrous eyes, a heart-melting smile showcasing his tiny teeth.

Ahsoka tries to chase the sword, only to stumble and fall as it is carried away by an invisible force. Rex, upon seeing his friend on the ground, in the same position he just was in, gets up to help her, completely forgetting that he was the one screeching for help just moments before.

The lightsaber drifts smoothly towards your hand as Echo and Fives occupy themselves with their captain and commander, while a pair of wide blue eyes sparkle mischievously before a small hand reaches out just like yours. Suddenly it drops slightly, changing angle and moving towards your chest instead.

You look down to see a tiny hand reaching out, mirroring yours. Tiny Anakin furrows his brows as he draws the lightsaber towards himself. You’re too amazed to even think about how dangerous it all is.

The trance is broken once the sword reaches Anakin’s grabby hands, making him smile unbelievably wide, before you snatch it away. “No, you can’t touch that. You’ll hurt yourself.” You tell him sternly.

His pout returns, deepening as he processes what just happened, before a loud cry rips itself from his chest, catching everyone’s attention.

Echo sighs, rubbing his temples as he feels a headache coming on, holding Ahsoka’s hand while Fives holds his tiny captain on his hip. The Togruta runs towards you and Anakin with a determined expression, surprisingly not stumbling once.

You watch curiously as she approaches, turning off the deadly weapon, before clambering up onto your lap. She stares into Anakin's eyes, before enveloping him in a tight hug, smooshing her cheek against his.

Surprisingly, it works. It quickly makes the tiny Jedi quiet down, hugging back his commander while sniffling the rest of his tears away and putting on a brave face. As if to say 'I wasn't crying!', just like normal-sized Anakin would.

"General!" Sivix exclaims, drawing everyone's attention, "We've received a transmission from Commander Cody and General Kenobi. They are on their way." he can't hide his relief.

"Thank the Force." You sigh, making the children in your lap look at you with concern in their wide eyes, before raising their tiny arms and cheering when you shoot them a smile.

Not the worst of experiences, but you're definitely relieved to hear from Obi-Wan so soon.

[darthkruge]

Could you do an imagine where Anakin comforts an insecure reader

Anakin Skywalker x Reader ~ Insecurities 

Summary: Anakin comes home to find the reader drowning in their own insecurities and does everything he can to make it better.

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: Heavy talk of insecurities, including the reader feeling insecure about their body, personality, relationship, basically themself in general. A little bit of blood and some injuries but nothing major. Angst to fluff, I’d say?

A/N: Hi anon! First off, I hope you’re okay. Secondly, thank you for requesting! And ofc I’ll write this, comfort fics are my shit! I tried to get this request out as quick as I could and it did take a tiny bit longer than I wanted, but I wanted to do it justice. Also, y’all are beautiful and perfect and I love each and every single person reading this. If anyone ever needs anything, I’m here always. If you wanna talk or vent or just share some of your thoughts, I got you. 

(not my gif)

It was just one of those days. You weren’t a stranger to them but, nonetheless, you always felt unprepared when they hit. The feeling where you wanted to crawl out of your own skin, your own mind. Where regardless of what clothes you wore, you hated how you looked. The thoughts were the worst part, telling you lies that felt terrifyingly like truths. 

You’re worthless. You’re unlovable. You’re ugly. Everyone else can see it. They all know. No one really wants to spend time with you. You’re annoying. You’re stupid. You’re a bad person. 

The thoughts spiraled and spiraled and spiraled until you were lost in your own head. When it came to this, you frequently fell. It was too painful to hold onto your consciousness and fight it, so you let go. The thoughts continued as you curled back up in your bed, in the apartment in Coruscant that you shared with him, the one that normally brought you such comfort, and stared blankly at the wall. Tears streamed down your face and you didn’t even have the energy to wipe them away. 

Truly, the worst part was feeling so defeated. You were a strong Jedi and you took your training seriously. You’d fought in countless battles, you should be able to handle one in your mind. You wished you were strong enough to fight against these thoughts. The shame you felt around your insecurities only made you feel more alone. Instead of reaching out on days like this, you just forced yourself into silence. 

You were especially afraid to tell Anakin. Your beautiful, perfect, kind, loving boyfriend. He didn’t deserve to deal with you. He had enough on his plate, it wasn’t his job to comfort you because you weren’t strong enough to deal with your own shit. You were scared that once he saw how you viewed yourself, he would come clean and admit to seeing you the same way. I mean, you were so obviously hideous, how could he not see it, too?

Meanwhile, Anakin was finishing up a training session in the Jedi Temple. Normally he’d train with Obi-Wan, but today he wanted to focus on himself. Honestly, he was a bit distracted. Since he had a busy day today and you had the day off, he had to leave before you woke up, which he absolutely hated. He loved being there when you woke up and cooking breakfast for the two of you. You’d been dating for a few months and he was truly shocked that you’d kept him around for this long. You were everything he’d ever wanted. 

He realized he was smiling as he thought of you and decided to reach out with the Force to be reminded of your presence. He knew it wasn’t what the Force was supposed to be used for but he honestly couldn’t help it, he missed you. You were a comfort to him and he liked to check and make sure you were alright. 

Anakin’s brow furrowed as he searched for you. Normally, you were meditating at this time and he could feel a sense of serenity and contentment around you. Today, however, he was met with pain. Pain, and fear, and hatred, and sadness, and anguish, and loneliness. Anakin braced himself against the wall, stumbling back at the severity of your emotions. Right after, he composed himself and took off in a run, trying to get to you as quickly as possible. 

“Y/N? Y/N?!” Anakin yelled, bursting through the door. He was immediately taken aback when he noticed that all the lights were off. Walking quietly, he heard your sobs coming from the bedroom. He went in and felt his heart shatter. There you were, his angel, curled under the blankets, sobbing. He looked around and noticed the mirror in your room smashed. He walked over and gently placed a hand on your back, trying not to startle or upset you more. 

You looked up at him and started crying even harder. He pulled you into his arms and noticed how you fell limply into his chest. The fight seemed to have extinguished from your eyes, causing him to hold you even closer. Your arms weakly surrounded his middle as his hands stroked your back and gently combed through your hair. 

You felt lost and trapped, the world around you fuzzy and distorted from the tears. Even so, you felt him. You breathed him in, inhaling his comforting scent and feeling his warmth. He helped you ground yourself, the broken wails eventually quieting into soft cries. Anakin didn’t try to shush you, he just whispered reassurances into your hair, let you get it out, and held you. “I’ve got you, love. It’s alright, get it out. I’m here, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

You listened to those affirmations as you sagged into him, taking a few more minutes to just lay there. Softly, Anakin pulled you away from him so he could study you. You saw his face contorted with worry and immediately felt guilty. Great, Y/N, now you’ve made him upset. Fuck, he doesn’t deserve this. Why did I have to be so fucking needy?!

Your thoughts were interrupted by him. “What happened, angel?”

“I-” You trailed off, not sure what to say. “I just had a shit day”

You could tell he knew it was more and, feeling vulnerable under his intensely caring gaze, brought your hand to move the hair out of your face.

Quickly, you heard Anakin take a sharp inhale of breath before grabbing your hand. Ouch. You looked down and noticed the cut on the back of your hand. It had mostly dried by now, thankfully, but the pain from punching that mirror earlier was definitely still registering. 

He wordlessly went to the bathroom and brought out some gauze and anti-bacterial medicine. When he returned, his eyes drifted to the mirror and you saw him putting the pieces together. He spent a few moments in silence, his expression downcast. He worked quickly, bandaging you up and collecting his thoughts. “Why?” He asked, softly.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t stand to look at myself anymore” You whispered, wiping away some residual tears from your eyes. 

“Y/N, you’re gorgeous, love. Please, angel, please look at me.” He cupped your face and moved you so you were in his lap, making sure you heard every word. “You are truly the most breathtaking person I’ve ever met. You’re ethereal.”

Anakin’s voice was quiet as he told you these things. Quiet, yet powerful. Almost as if it was the gentle caress of his innermost thoughts. Completely honest and raw, yet too intimate for anyone to hear except you.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry your brain is lying to you. That must be so hard, fighting against your own mind. Baby, you’re brave. You’re so, so brave.”

You were shaking your head, “Ani, no, no I’m not. I’m not brave, I didn’t fight. I let them consume me. I was drowning and I couldn’t breathe until you came in. I couldn’t anchor myself at all, I was so weak” You said, disgusted with yourself. 

“Shh, shh, Y/N, listen. You are strong because even though you felt the weight of everything on your shoulders, you didn’t drown. I know you felt like you would, but look! You’re here. You didn’t drown.” He took a second to pause, kissing your forehead lovingly. “Do you want to talk about what brought this on?”

“If I tell you, promise you won’t think differently of me?”

“I promise. Nothing could change how I feel about you.”

You inhaled deeply, hands shaking slightly. Ani took them in his own, steadying them while looking at you deeply. “I’ve been dealing with some shit for a while and I think it all kind of caught up to me today? I hate how I look, Ani. I look in the mirror and I can’t handle it. That’s why I broke it, I just, I couldn’t. And then I was just thinking of how you don’t deserve to deal with someone like me. You shouldn’t have to come home after a day of training and deal with my breakdowns. I know I should have told you I’ve been feeling like this. I just was terrified. I was terrified you’d agree with me. I’m terrified you’ll leave me. I’m terrified you’ll wake up and see how you deserve so much more than the shitty fucking messed up person I am.” You trail off and meet his eyes, tears glistening in both of yours, “Ani, I’m so terrified” You finish, voice wavering. 

Anakin rests his forehead against yours, pressing kisses to your hands. He lets his eyes close and tears fall down his cheeks. He couldn’t believe you were in this much pain and he never noticed. You were the love of his life and he felt like he’d failed you if you feel like this. 

“Y/N, I’m not gonna leave you. I’m not going anywhere. You are the best person for me, hell, you’re the best person in the entire fucking galaxy. Everyday I wake up and think about how lucky I am to call you mine. You’re smart, you’re kind, you’re compassionate. You’re stubborn as hell and I love that about you. You challenge me and you’re a damn good Jedi. You’re strong, stronger than anyone should ever have to be. Your heart inspires me everyday. Simply, you’re good. And I know I said it a bit earlier, but I’m gonna say it again. You are stunning, love. Truly.” Anakin said, pulling away so he could really see you. 

“Look at your legs! They’re so pretty, baby. Especially when you jump up and wrap them around me after I get home from a mission? That’s the best feeling in the freaking world! And your stomach! You always let me rest my head on it when I’m tired and I know you think it’s weird but it’s such a good angle because I can lay there and play with your hands. And, baby, your arms!! You give such good hugs and you when wrap them around me?? It makes me feel safe in a world full of chaos. And at night when you use them to curl into me, or when we’re dancing together? Fuck, I just love them.”

Anakin trailed off for a second. He held your face in his palms and you leaned into their warmth. “And you’re face, Y/N. It’s just so perfectly you. When I look into your eyes, I know I’m home. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say. I don’t understand how you can hate your body when it's the body that makes me feel like I’m going to be okay. You make me feel like I’m going to be okay. I’ve always felt so out of control, so lost. But you ground me. Please, come to me if you ever feel like this again? You are not a burden or a messed up person. You’re everything. I’m here for you. I know my words won’t fix anything overnight. Even so, I promise you, I will repeat them everyday until you believe them and, after that, I will continue to remind you until my last breath.”

You hugged him and nuzzled into his chest, overcome with emotion. “I’m trying Ani, I’m really trying. It’s not easy for me to come to people when I feel like that but I promise I’ll try.”

His arms tightened around you and he placed a kiss on the top of your head. “That’s all I could ever ask of you, love. Thank you for being willing to try”

“Thank you, too, for talking me down today. It doesn’t normally get that bad. Some days are worse than others, you know? But you really helped me. I love you more than anything. I love you for loving me when I feel unlovable” 

“I will always be here to remind you how deserving you are of love, happiness, and every other positive thing in the universe. I love you, too. I’ve loved you for years, I love you now, and I’ll love you forever”

Anakin hadn’t really let you go since he returned to the apartment. He was naturally a protective person and hated to see you hurting. He was so soft, so comforting. Although vulnerability is always hard, he made it so much easier. You knew he would always validate you, comfort you, and be there without judgement. He was everything you could possibly need and more.

Eventually, your breathing evened out as he rocked you in his arms. Anakin layed you back under the covers and went to pull away to sweep up the broken mirror’s glass. As he attempted to release himself from your arms, you whined and only tightened your grip on him. Anakin smiled and chuckled quietly, laying down and pulling you on top of his chest. You hummed contently and he placed a few more soft kisses onto your hair, your forehead, your shoulders, everywhere. You were his top priority always and he wanted to keep you safe physically, mentally, and emotionally. He could never deny you comfort, especially not in this state. After waiting a few more moments to ensure you were truly at rest, Ani closed his eyes. The glass could always wait until tomorrow...

[primasveraas-writing]

i've heard them calling my name

Anakin Skywalker faces five people after the second great betrayal of his lifetime.

Inspired in part by @naberiie's "thirteen minutes".

WORD COUNT: 1803

XXX

1

Anakin Skywalker isn’t dead, but he is dying.

It hurts, and he is used to the pain, the ache in his lungs, and the throbbing in what remains of his limbs. He’s used to the grief and the guilt and the sorrow.

What’s new is the light flooding him, overwhelming his mind and senses. What’s new is love, the feeling returned after an eternity of bitterness and hatred. What’s new is his son, so much smaller than Anakin in his mechanical suit, dragging him through the hangar, and the determination and compassion that flow from him; Luke the bright epicenter of his suddenly recentered galaxy.

But dying sounds like a horrible, raspy breath, and the wheeze of a failing ventilator.

And love sounds like: “I won’t leave you here. I’ve got to save you.”

Dying is dimness creeping in at the corners, quickly enough to scare Anakin, to rush his goodbyes.

Love is the blue of his son’s eyes, and the kindness shining in his face that reminds Anakin so much of Padmé.

He thinks of his wife, and of his daughter who he never knew, and of his son, and he mourns them all in a second, because the darkness is closing in, and his consciousness is fleeing him as is air, and again Luke desperately promises not to leave him, and Anakin exhales for the last time and his son’s voice is the last thing he knows.

2

There is incredible darkness and Anakin does not know nor think until a voice calls out his name and recognition blossoms with a burst of light flooding the void.

“Obi-wan?”

There is shame, deep and consuming because Anakin has betrayed his son, but he was a brother long before he was a father, and he has ruined Obi-wan with no chance of salvation like there is for Luke, and-

“Master, I’m so sorry- so very, very-”

Obi-wan says his name again, and tells him that there is more, that there can be forgiveness and immortality, and Anakin wants but he does not deserve, but he wants to see Luke again and meet his daughter and Anakin has always been selfish despite the Jedi’s teachings.

And if Obi-wan is truly offering him this chance- Obi-wan, with his fair logic and pragmatism- then maybe he does indeed deserve this, even if all others, Anakin included, do not think the same.

“I failed you, Master.”

Silence. Then, the light ripples, and there is his master, and he is smiling gently, and he shakes his head.

“And I failed you, Anakin. You needed more from me than I ever offered, and I am sorry for that.”

“After all I’ve done-”

“You did what no other Jedi could, in the end, and that is as the Force wills it.”

“I wish-” Anakin’s voice catches. “I wish it were different.”

“As do I.” Obi-wan looks sad now, and that is familiar, but he opens his arms and steps closer to Anakin. They embrace, there is love and comfort between them, things that Anakin has not allowed himself to miss in thirty long years.

When they part, Obi-wan regards him for a long moment, then speaks again.

“I still have much to teach you,” he says slowly, and Anakin nods. This has not changed, even now. “You will see others who have missed you as I have. You will find forgiveness and anger in unexpected places, from those living and dead, but, my dear padawan,” Obi-wan smiles now, a true contentedness painting his features, “you will know peace again. That is what you deserve.”

3

His mother is before him in the emptiness, as if from a dream.

Anakin Skywalker is decades old and a Jedi Knight and a war hero and a tyrant and a Sith Lord and evil personified and the Chosen One, and he sees his mother and runs to her.

Her embrace is warm and tight, and he knows her from the way his head buries into her neck, and the length of her arms around him, and the faint smell of spice on her tunic, and every inflection of her voice as she murmurs his name, and calls him my son, and says how I’ve missed you, and he sobs into her, pulling them both to their knees as he does.

“Mom,” he gasps, and all the shame hits him anew. He is his mother’s son, his selfless, compassionate, angel of a mother, and he is a monster who turned against everything she believed in.

“I love you,” she tells him, and he ducks his head, unable to meet her eyes. Instead, he shakes his head, letting hot tears slip down his cheeks.

“Come now,” she chides, wiping the wetness away with her sleeve. It’s as if he were four again, and he had just scraped his knee, rather than-

“I don’t deserve you, Mom,” he chokes, and although he needs her, it’s true.

“No,” Shmi’s tone is firm and resolute, “it has always been my job to love you unconditionally, Anakin. I’ll not stop now.”

“I did such terrible things-”

“Yes. And I forgive you for them.”

“How? How can you?”

“You are my son,” she says, and she cups his face in her hands and smiles at him, and he knows warmth and love with startling clarity once more. “And you have earned my forgiveness and always deserved my love.”

Anakin sobs again and hides in her shoulder, and Shmi holds him close until the cries subside and he is nearly calm again.

“There is more,” she advises him after a long while, and her warmth and love are still there but Shmi is very serious. Anakin’s throat dries, and he knows they are thinking of the same person.

“Not yet,” she says. “Soon."

“How can I-” the words die in his throat, and Shmi presses a kiss to his brow and looks him in the eye.

“She lived and died for you, Anakin. That love does not mean nothing.”

She smiles at him, her crow’s feet wrinkling, and her love is familiar and good and palpable, and then she, and everything, disappears.

4

There is a beautiful woman, with dark hair and eyes, and a short frame. Her features are sharp, but not harsh or unkind, except in the way that she looks at Anakin, which is with a mask of anger, her mouth set into a stern frown.

His wife’s name is on his lips, but there are differences, slight, but noticeable, and he realizes it’s because one woman aged while the other died, and when Sabé speaks, her voice rings out clearly in the tone of a queen with no time for mercy or forgiveness.

“You killed her.”

Anakin cannot breathe nor reply, so he nods instead, and stares at his feet.

“She was my life, and she died because of you, your selfishness, your rage. I worried from the second she married you, that you would be the death of her, and I was right.

“She let her love consume her, and so did you, but your love was poison,” Sabé spits. “You never deserved her.”

“No,” Anakin whispers. These are not the thoughts that made Darth Vader, but these are the ones that fueled him.

“I buried her. I loved her and I lived for her, and I brushed her hair and dressed her in her funeral gown and I tried to seek vengeance, and years later, a monster came to Naboo to find answers as I did, and I wondered why you didn’t kill us.”

“Because you look like her,” Anakin is still quieted by his shame. “Because I couldn’t destroy what was left of her.”

“I would have killed you then if I knew. I wanted to kill Vader with my bare hands, but you- you betrayed her. Death wouldn’t have sufficed for you.”

“I deserve that,” Anakin says, clear and loud. Sabé doesn’t disagree, but she regards him for a moment, studying his face, her own features still set in anger.

Then: “She forgives you.”

“What?”

“She wants to see you.” Sabé sighs and confusion overtakes Anakin’s shock, his heart pounding in his chest. “She loves you.”

“I love her,” Anakin blurts, and he tries not to shrink under Sabé’s scrutiny. “I love her still.”

“So do I,” Sabé says bluntly. “Which is why you’re seeing me first.”

“To berate me?” It makes sense to Anakin, although he has not particularly enjoyed this conversation, but Sabé seems amused, her eyes glinting.

“To tell you that you have served a penance. To show you that many will not grant you forgiveness.”

“Do you?” He suspects the answer, but the question

“I love Padmé. I follow her lead.” Sabé tilts her head to the side. “Though I keep my own reservations.”

She smiles faintly at that, then she is gone.

5

Padmé stands three feet before him, and she smiles.

Anakin staggers forward and stumbles, sinking to his knees. Tears are already streaming down his face when he murmurs her name, mixed with apologies and said like a prayer.

“Anakin,” Padmé says, and she holds him, tangling her fingers in his hair. “Oh, Anakin.”

He breathes her in; he still remembers the scent of her perfume and the softness of her hair, and the way her body fits against his own larger frame, and the gentleness of her touch and her voice, and he has loved her since he was nine years old, and through war and darkness and villainy and death, he has not stopped loving her.

“I love you,” she tells him, and presses a kiss to his forehead. Anakin sobs, cradling Padmé against him, and begs her again for forgiveness. “I love you, Anakin.”

“I should have- I-”

“I know,” she says, and her tone is firm. “In the end, you have made things right. That is what matters to me”

“Our children,” he whispers. “Luke saved me.” He finally looks up at her, sees the warmth in her brown eyes. “He’s like you, Padmé.”

“I believed in him as I believed in you.” His wife smiles again. “I always did.”

“I missed you,” he breathes, and Padmé squeezes his hand.

“I missed you, too. I waited so long to see you again.”

“I’m here,” Anakin exhales, shaky. “All I wanted was to be with you again.”

“I have you now.” Padmé leans in, kissing him, then rests her forehead against his.

“Now I am complete.” Anakin echoes his mother’s words from all those years ago, and he knows they are true.

Padmé rises with him, wrapping both her hands around one of his, and reaches up to kiss him once more. He holds her with his free arm, never wanting to leave her embrace, and content in the fact that he does not have to let go.

[elenamiria]

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader - Kinktober Day 7

Fisting | Public | Dirty Talk | Emeto 

Word Count: 1.4k  Warnings: Public sex/Exhibitionism, inappropriate use of the force, dirty talk, fem reader, unprotected sex Kinktober Day 6  «  Kinktober Masterlist  »  Kinktober Day 8 Main Masterlist & Taggies: @legally-a-bastard

The senate gala was going exceptionally well until Obi-Wan showed up. You were the designated Jedi liason for the night so you were a bit confused why he was there but the devious grin he gave you certainly gave you an idea. You schooled your shocked face back into a pleasant smile as you continued to converse with your companions, Bail Organa and Padmé Amidala. You tried to ignore the way it felt like fingers were trailing down your spine but when the phantom hand squeezed your ass you were unable to hold back the small gasp that escaped your mouth. Padmé laid a concerned hand on your arm but you barely listened to what she was saying as you nodded and muttered, "Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry you'll have to excuse me."

You strolled through the crowd searching for Obi-Wan and you stifled the small moan wanting to fly from you as the phantom fingers slid against your clothed cunt. Your steps faltered as the sensation started rubbing back and forth, slick gathering in between your legs. Your eyes finally met Obi-Wan's mischievous gaze and you stormed towards him. Pausing only when the fingers ghosted over your clit. As you reached him his silver tongue made an appearance, “Stars darling, you look absolutely exquisite tonight.”

“Don’t.” You ground out at him.

He gave you an innocent look, eyes widening and brow raising softly as if shocked by you, “Whatever do you mean? What don’t you want me to do?”

At his words you felt the phantom fingers slip past your underwear and tease at your bare pussy. Biting back the whine in your throat you glared at him. And as the fingers delved into your depths steadily pumping you remained silent, biting harshly on your lip.

“It doesn't seem like you want me to stop, all you have to do is say the word and I’ll leave you alone.”

The teasing glint in his eyes told you that he knew as well as you did that you weren't planning on asking him to stop. In fact it was far more likely that you would drag him off to some secret corner in order to have his hands actually on your body, especially with the way the Obi had those fingers curling within your depths to hit you in the most pleasurable spots. You stumbled slightly and Obi-Wan reached out to lay his hand on your lower back muttering, “I’ve got you darling.”

He was guiding you somewhere and you blindly followed, mind blurred by pleasure as he used the force to thumb at your clit. Biting back moans your arm linked around his back as your legs went wobbly. Obi-Wan grinned as he politely made his way through crowds of senators, leaning down he whispered to you, “What’s wrong, don’t want all these people to know how good I'm making you feel? I bet if I bent you over that cocktail table and hiked that dress up you’d be absolutely soaked, wouldn't you filthy girl?”

The best you could do was nod as pleasure rolled over you in waves, your fingers digging into Obi’s back needing an outlet for the electricity thrumming through your body. Obi laughed lightly as you finally broke free from the swarm of senators and he spoke to you, this time at a normal volume, “Would you like me to take you little one? There’s an alcove nearby that seems deserted or would you rather i bring you to climax in front of all of these senators and they'd be none the wiser?”

You whimpered at his words and looked around before whispering, “The alcove, I want to touch you.”

Nodding Obi-Wan took your elbow and hastily retreated around a corner. The spot he brought you to was in a long hallway filled with ornate statues lining either side, the wall curving back around each statue. As he dragged you behind one you looked at him incredulously, “Obi we’ll get caught here!”

At this Obi-Wan shot you another signature smirk, “You’ll just have to keep quiet then to make sure that doesn't happen, darling.”

As he spoke he backed you against the wall and surged down to capture your lips in a heated kiss, his beard burning against you deliciously. You moaned into the kiss, opening up to him, finally touching after all the build up felt like bliss. You quickly tugged down his pants to pull out his cock startled to find him rock hard in your hands. He groaned, though it was muffled by your mouth, and he nipped at your bottom lip before pulling away. His forehead rested softly against yours as he rumbled, “I was aching for you, love.”

You guessed that explained why he had shown up to the gala, solely to come find you. You lifted your leg against his hip and Obi-Wan was quick to catch it in his hand, your hand fumbled and tugged at your panties, pulling them to the side as your other hand lined Obi-Wan’s thick head up with your entrance. As his head prodded at you he moaned once more crooning out, “Oh darling, you’re absolutely soaked. Is all of that for me pretty girl?”

You nodded and quietly cried out, “All for you Obi, it’s always for you.”

With your words Obi’s hips surged forward, sheathing himself inside your tight pussy. You buried your face in his neck to keep from sobbing out and you bit into his shoulder as he started thrusting up into you. Obi was doing no better than you were, his mouth had fallen open and every thrust had him panting out your name. It seemed he couldn't keep himself from lavishing you with praises as he pumped his length into you, softly whispering, “Darling, always so good to me. Stars, your little cunt is perfect, gripping me so tightly. Oh, my little one, I don’t know how long i can last, you feel perfect, drenching my cock. You are perfect!”

His words sped along your release and his fingers desperately circling you clit helped a great deal too. You clenched hard and you lifted your head to whimper out his name, tears filling your eyes as you came so close to cumming it physically hurt. Obi-Wan looked as wrecked as you did, mouth open, eyes wrinkling at the corner as they narrowed in pleasure and he had a wild desperate look about him. At your plea he bent his head to press his forehead against yours once more as he whispered your name sweetly, “I’ve got you, it’s alright. I’ve got you, cum all over my cock, please please cum for me my darling.”

He cursed as his fingers sped up on your clit and your mouth fell open in desperation, you managed to gasp out, “Obi-Wan, I..I lo-love” before your pleasure overwhelmed you. Tears started to fall as you tipped over the edge and Obi nuzzled his face against yours when he realized what you needed. The way he said your name was your undoing and just as you started to cum Obi-Wan whispered against the skin of your cheek, “I love you, I will always love you.”

He reached his peak as well, filling you as your mouths melded to stifle the noises leaking out of you both. Your walls desperately clung to him as your body trembled against his, your fingers scrabbling against his back trying to anchor yourself to him. As the two of you rode out your climax together you were oblivious to the slow steady stream of senators filtering out of the grand banquet hall and past your little hiding place. It wasn't until you pulled your head back and your eyes opened that you noticed. Your body tensed once again and your walls gave an involuntary flutter, Obi seemed to not have noticed yet as he teased, “Ready for round two already? I’ll need a few minutes bu-”

He was cut off by you tilting your head aggressively to the side. As he focused on the world around you his eyes grew wide but then a smirk came over his face. As his cock twitched in interest, still seated deep within you, you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from whining. Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head Obi-Wan started rocking his hips again you again, his cock slowly hardening in your pussy. Your eyes grew wide but the way your hips bucked in time with his only had Obi-Wan’s smile growing as he leaned down to whisper, “You better keep quiet pretty girl, I wouldn't want us to get caught.”

[jasontoddiefor]

Summary: Obi-Wan is overworking himself, Anakin and Ahsoka run an intervention. AN: Written for @thenegoteator after a hilarious discussion. Read on AO3!

Obi-Wan must have been so distracted by his reports and ever-growing workload that he hadn’t even noticed the door of his quarters opening. It was only when he heard an incredulous “Master!” that his eyes flickered upwards, spotting dark robes. Obi-Wan focused on his report again, long used to his Padawan, former Padawan now, they had made Anakin a Knight already, dropped in at all times to hang out once he had finished his own duties. Obi-Wan would be the first to speak out about how wrong this situation was. Anakin shouldn’t have to carry the burden of war yet, or at all, and his rare free time with his master shouldn’t be spent watching him work or seeing him only once in a while when they were lucky enough to get a bloody assignment together.

But Obi-Wan hadn’t ever been granted a transitional period either, why would the Force be any kinder to his Padawan?

“Just sit down on my bed, Anakin,” Obi-Wan told him and ran his hand through his hair. It was starting to get annoyingly long. He hadn’t cut it off when he’d been sent to the front because of Anakin’s fondness for it. They had made it something of a tradition to braid it together and the simple movements had helped him get used to his new prosthetic. Anakin had done countless braids with Obi-Wan’s red hair, but now, on the battlefield, it was more an annoyance than anything if even one strand came loose. Obi-Wan certainly couldn’t understand how his own Master could stand running around without his hair put together in a braid. Obi-Wan hadn’t ever enjoyed his strands falling past his shoulders and so had kept his done up, braided or wrapped around his wooden hairpin. In the past weeks, however, he had already almost lost his hairpin thrice, if not for one of his men picking it up and returning it to him. His hair was really just an annoyance at this point.

“Oh, Force. I can’t believe Master was right.”

That was not Anakin’s voice.

Obi-Wan now did tear his eyes away from his datapad and found himself looking at a Padawan clad in dark robes that were, indeed, the same hade as Anakin preferred it. More and more Jedi had started wearing darker colors to hide the blood and the dirt stains, but the child in front of him was decidedly not Anakin.

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan greeted his grand-Padawan, “I apologize, I didn’t notice that it was you.”

Ahsoka crossed her arms and snorted. “Yeah, I saw that. Master said you wouldn’t.”

Worry flickered over her face but disappeared just as quickly. She had been an open book when she had been dropped at their feet. The war had taught her to keep her emotions closer to her heart in just a few short months and it hurt Obi-Wan more than anything else. As glad as he was that Ahsoka was part of their lineage, and as aware as he was that she wouldn’t be under any other circumstances, he wished that she’d have a kinder transition to the life of a Padawan.

She shouldn’t be fighting a war. Force, they were putting 14-year-olds at the front of the bloodiest conflicts the galaxy had seen in centuries. They had to end this soon.

“How can I help you?” Obi-Wan asked. “Has there been a change in plans?”

Ahsoka only shook her head. “No, Skyguy said we’re running an intervention.”

“A what?” Obi-Wan was confused, but before Ahsoka could elaborate, his door was opened once more and Anakin stumbled through it. His face had already gained a little more color and his head wasn’t wrapped in bandages anymore, but his cheeks were still hollow. He needed to rest, he should be sleeping, and not running around the ship.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “What are you doing here?”

“Intervention,” Anakin just replied and closed the door behind himself with a kick of his boot. He was holding his drawing utensils under one arm while the other carried pillows and blankets. “Didn’t Ahsoka explain?”

“I was just getting to it, Master,” Ahsoka harrumphed. “But then you interrupted me!”

“Oh, I apologize, young one,” Anakin said with a mocking tone. “Please, do proceed.”

“No, I don’t want to anymore.” And with that Ahsoka took the place Obi-Wan had offered Anakin just before. She kicked off her boots and sat down crossed-legged on Obi-Wan’s bed, leaning against the cold wall of the ship.

Anakin only rolled his eyes at her antics, then tossed her the additional blankets and pillows he had brought.

“Okay, fine. We are making use of the Master Friend Clause,” Anakin announced. “And you are hereby ordered to leave your desk and join us on our terrible pillow fort because we don’t have enough blankets for a good one.”

“Master Friend Clause,” Obi-Wan echoed, mirroring Anakin’s inflection. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Oh, you know,” Anakin said easily and sat down next to his Padawan, propping up pillows like he had nothing better to do. “Master Friend Clause, you told me about it like… I don’t know, six years ago? When I was writing my thesis.”

Oh, yeah. That.

Obi-Wan remembered that.

Anakin had been fourteen and stressed about his thesis on Nubian hyperdrives despite the fact that he was under no real obligation or pressure to actually hand in a forty-page thesis on it. He hadn’t slept at all in the days before he was supposed to hand it in, not that Obi-Wan had been much better at the time, haunted by new dark visions that kept him up at night. They had both been insomniacs together until Obi-Wan had decided to take back control of the situation. Instead of just telling each other to go to sleep and then being worried about the other, he had invented the Master Friend Clause. He’d only nap when Anakin went to bed as well and so they had actually gotten back into a regular sleeping rhythm after two weeks of anything but.

“You can’t be serious,” Obi-Wan said, but Anakin just raised his brow at him and then reached for his sketchbook and grabbed one of his bigger markers. He scribbled something on it and then turned the whole book around.

Master Friend Clause: effective immediately, it read on the paper.

“I’m sorry, Master,” Anakin said and shrugged, “I’m not responsible for it. Besides, Ahsoka hasn’t slept in like a day-“

“That’s a lie!”

“And I haven’t in…” Anakin trialed off and began counting something at his fingers, then shook his head. “I don’t even know anymore. We need to sleep and so do you, C’mon.”

Obi-Wan looked at his lineage and their makeshift pillow fort. Given that they had just propped up two pillows left and right and thrown a blanket over it all, it actually did look fairly impressive and warm and welcoming and Obi-Wan did need to sleep.

“Alright,” he agreed. Anakin grinned and made space on the bed, pulling Ahsoka close to his chest – honestly, did they had to occupy his bed for this? He’d have to be the one to make it again later, why couldn’t they do this on Anakin’s bed? – so that Obi-Wan could lie down next to Ahsoka. Obi-Wan set aside his datapad, pulled the wooden hairpin from his hair, and took off his boots. Unlike the two of them, he set aside his shoes properly, then he laid down next to Ahsoka. Even through all the robes, he could feel how warm the Trogruta Padawan was. No wonder that Anakin ‘I’m cold, do we have more blankets, Master?’ Skywalker was hugging her like his life depended on it.

“And now we sleep?” Obi-Wan asked dryly, though he couldn’t entirely keep the amusement out of his voice.

“And now we sleep,” Anakin confirmed while Ahsoka only hummed, already half passed out.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan replied and closed his eyes.

Ahsoka fell asleep quickly, her breath a steady rhythm. It didn’t take long for Anakin to follow her and then, surrounded by his lineage and the feeling of home, even so many days away from Coruscant, Obi-Wan fell asleep as well.

[renegadeontherunn]

19 for the prompts if you haven’t receive it yet <3

of course jas my beloved!!!! thank you so much for the ask <3333

19. "You were supposed to be there." // from these prompts! // read it on ao3!

The Force is just as surprised as they are.

So when a flash of orange darts around the corner accompanied by two white blurs, Anakin and Obi-Wan don’t even get the chance to blink in appropriate surprise before they’re on the ground. A knock to Obi-Wan’s head and in the delay, his wrists are bound with Force suppressors. He half crumples when they make the fatal click, strength, peace, power smothered under frigid metal.

Ahsoka almost feels bad.

Almost.

The real pain comes after weeks in those horrible cuffs, the hole in your head, in the air, where your whole life used to reside growing sharper, hungrier, darker. But Obi-Wan will understand that soon enough. Just like she had.

“Ahsoka?”

It’s Anakin—isn’t it always?—and his voice is dripping with shock. One of the guards Ahsoka had taken with her on this little hunt, Cross, has Anakin’s arms wrenched behind his back, but the Force suppressors still dangle from his belt. Ahsoka is banking on Anakin’s confusion, his attachment, to keep him weak. She can’t take that same chance with Obi-Wan.

“Ahsoka you—you’re here.” His eyes are wide like a child’s, and Ahsoka can practically see all the things he wants to say crowding behind his tongue. “What’s going on? Are—are you alright?”

It’s been months since she’s seen either of them and when she’d trudged down the steps of the Temple this was certainly not how she’d expected their reunion to go. A small part of Ahsoka, the part that’s still the other one, grips her ribs and screams to be let out. To reach out to her Master, her brother, to slip back into the spot between him and Obi-Wan where she’d fit so well for years. Her throat grows tight. Ahsoka despises her. And so she leans harder on the Force like she’s been taught and hopes the voice—voices—will die out in agony. Starting with his.

“Ahsoka?”

Obi-Wan hasn’t spoken yet. Silence is a weapon too and Ahsoka doesn’t appreciate such chilling indifference. She remembers why she’s here. Not to talk or back down or weep. She’s here to kill.

She takes a soft step forward and almost like he knows what’s coming, Anakin starts struggling against the guard, trying to push himself to his feet, words tumbling out of his mouth. “Ahsoka, wait, wait, wait, what’s—what’s going on?” Thunder cracks low in the sky and it’s only then that Ahsoka notices the enormous hole blown out of the Temple hallway. Smoke blackens the night sky and shrieking sirens collide with the screaming Force. “Ahsoka?”

She can tell he’s trying to ignore the flashing gold of her eyes, but he can’t look past the blood-red beam of light that ignites from her saber. Ahsoka has never seen him more in denial, more heartbroken than he is kneeling before her now. Her ever-sure steps stutter and to compensate, she digs down into her rage. Anger keeps her strong, keeps her fighting, it shields her from the weakness that love or pity or regret will sink her to.

“Ahsoka, stop!” Her hand is already shaking on her lightsaber hilt. Ahsoka strikes Anakin across the face, her metal-laden fist cutting a line of blood down his cheek. She’s never preferred such hands-on combat, two lightsabers and her agility give the distance and speed she needs to fight, but rage—and it’s rage, she tells herself, not sorrow, not grief, not guilt—is weighing her down.

That’s fine. Power can be a million things and so can Ahsoka.

The need to adapt has been forced on her by the very people Anakin and Obi-Wan are trying to protect, and it’s always good to give back.

She realizes she’s still hitting him. Anakin’s face is awash in blood—Ahsoka doesn’t know what’s his and what’s from her own knuckles. She looks at the guard and he releases him. Anakin stumbles back and up, heads outstretched in front of him. He wipes his face, clearing as much of the blood as he can and his lightsaber is ignited a shaky breath later. Obi-Wan might be saying something at last, but it’s lost as Ahsoka bounds toward Anakin. She lets instinct and primal, brutal fury take over. Their sabers clash.

Later, when Ahsoka has cried and screamed and torn apart her new quarters on Coruscant, she won’t remember what happened. All of a sudden, she’s towering over Anakin, both their lightsabers gone. She’s mildly surprised when she realizes she was actually able to best him, then scolds herself for not having faith in her new teachings. A swift kick to Anakin’s ribs leaves him gasping, and Obi-Wan is definitely saying something, but Ahsoka knows she’s far from vindicated.

“Ahsoka, stop,” comes Anakin’s voice, strong as it is quiet. “Please. Listen.” His eyes are bright blue through the bruises, the blood, and Ahsoka has always folded first. She squeezes her eyes shut and stumbles away, tearing apart whatever vile emotions swarm her.

The Force is dark and stormy around her, suffocating, but powerful. It blocks out the pain, the grief, the failure Ahsoka feels, and she clings to it.

Anakin is standing, one hand clutching his ribs, when she looks up again. His hands are reaching for her. “I don’t know what happened, but whatever it is, we will fix it.”

Furious tears race down her face. “You can’t stop this!”

Ahsoka wants to scream. She wants to scream because this is hard, far harder than she’d expected. The Jedi are wrong, the Jedi are evil, she’s had more than enough experience to understand that. How many times has she heard their immeasurable list of crimes, how they abandoned their own principles and people, their own children. Words flicker through her memory. “The rift in the galaxy is not our fault.”

But Ahsoka has learned that it is.

Given the right circumstances, a little education, nudging (pressure—torture—part of her brain cries) by the right people (the wrong people—don’t you see, child?—this is all wrong) and here she is. And here they are.

And she has a score to settle.

Ahsoka grits her teeth, taloned nails cutting crescents in her palms.

There will be justice, there will be recompense, and by her hand.

She looks into the eyes of her old Master and it’s like looking into the past. There’s that sick feeling in her chest again and Ahsoka crushes it, pushing down until something shifts and then snaps, sharp shards of glass cleaving her ribcage.

Ahsoka raises one shaking arm and chokes him with the Force, his feet drifting off the ground, back pressed hard against the wall. Though she’s never done it herself, she’s seen it from Anakin plenty of times and Ahsoka now understands the fury he wields that’s always surprised her.

His hands scrabble against his throat, desperate stare pleading, trying to reach her.

Something burns her eyes. Her fist tightens. “You were supposed to be there!”

The words tear through her, ripping the already scarred air. Months of unsaid words choked back swell, clogging her throat, and she can barely breathe past the broken syllables. With another yell that scrapes her insides raw, she throws Anakin down on the other side of the room. They both gasp for breath. Obi-Wan has stopped talking.

Anakin pushes himself up on a shaking arm, eyes darting straight to Ahsoka’s crumbling facade. Salt stings her lips.

The guard—Ahsoka thinks his name is Double—shoves Obi-Wan down beside Anakin, and his bound hands immediately go to Anakin’s trembling shoulder. Mumbled questions fall from his tongue, panic twisting his tone. Anakin’s eyes never leave Ahsoka’s.

“You were supposed to be there.”

The words are quiet, rough, homesick notes barely speaking through her tears.

Obi-Wan’s head whips over his shoulder, grey eyes too hard to read, and Ahsoka decides he’s never looked at her with anything but ice.

Hell has frozen over and so have they.

Anakin is openly crying, his gaze melted into waves of sorrow meeting Ahsoka’s gold-eyed shore. Obi-Wan has always been a glacier. Icicles prick his cheeks.

Biting rage sears Ahsoka’s chest. She doesn’t care what it takes; she’ll burn this Temple to ash just to feel the thaw.

Injured as he is, angry as she is, Anakin is too easily thrown when Ahsoka coaxes the Force to her will. Obi-Wan reaches for him, helpless, his hands useless under those cuffs. Anakin flies back, his shoulder clipping the side of the hole in the wall, and he tumbles off the edge. Ahsoka rushes forward, for a moment scared she’s killed him, but his hand—his metal hand—is digging into the rim of the hole, just barely holding on. The metal creaks.

It’s not a far drop, not enough to kill him anyway, and Ahsoka doesn’t know if she’s disappointed or relieved. She tries to be disappointed. Rain beats down against his face, but his eyes are bright blue when they look up at her.

She sees his lips move, hears the faint notes of his voice—something like I’m sorry, something like please—but the clouds scream over whatever he’s trying to say. Ahsoka looks away. Something is on fire out there, even in the storm, and the horizon is darkened by smoke.

“Ahsoka.”

Her head automatically jerks down to meet his imploring gaze. That sorrow again, that guilt, worst of all, that hope. Both halves of her howl with the roaring rain.

“I’m here now.”

You were supposed to be there.

“I’m here.”

Ahsoka can’t tell what’s rain and what’s tears on Anakin’s face, can’t tell the same on her own. She looks behind her at Obi-Wan, for reasons she doesn’t bother to understand, and sees him struggling against the guard harder than ever. She wonders what he would do if he was free, almost calls for his release just to see.

But she has already spent too long here, made too many mistakes. The weak part of her has grown louder, and she needs time to smother it completely.

Ahsoka looks down at Anakin again, salty tears biting through her gritted teeth. She calls her lightsaber to her hand, hovering it just next to his face, barely searing the edge of his skin. The red glow makes him look dead already.

“I could do it.”

Then she tears herself away, turning into the shadowed warmth of the Dark Side.

It’s a disappointment, it’s a failure, it’s a relief drowned by wrath at having allowed these parts of her past to live. Obi-Wan shudders to his feet, bleary eyes panicked as he rushes to Anakin, Double and Cross now dutifully following Ahsoka out. There’s sounds of struggle, movement, shifting robes. Ahsoka can almost picture Obi-Wan’s strong grip, Anakin hauling himself back up into the Temple, hair sopping, water pooling down around them. It’ll stain the stone. If it survives that long.

By the time Anakin pulls trembling limbs up, his mind still shaking off frigid rain, raw betrayal, chilling hurt, Ahsoka is already gone.