#ewan mcgregor x you

[forever-rogue]

may i request an obi-wan fluff where reader gets ticklish over his ✨beard✨ when he hugged her

old man kenobi looks so softtt and honestly he just needs a hug and i just want to comfort this man and wrap him in a blanket 🫂

AN | Please hug this man and hold him and tell him you love him 🥰 Enjoy!

Pairing | Obi-Wan x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Light spice

Word Count | 1.9k

Masterlist | Main, Star Wars

Part 2, Part 3

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

You heard the door creak open ever so quietly, despite his best efforts. He could be light and lithe on his feet, but he was still no match for the ancient, groaning door. You didn’t even need to turn around to know it was him; he always carried a particular scent that was uniquely him. It was warm and slightly sweet, almost as if he somehow belonged in this desert. You supposed that in some ways he did. If it hadn’t been for him, you were pretty sure you’d have left years ago, but something compelled you to stay there, with him and for him.

He favored your small home, loved the quaint coziness it provided, almost like a respite in the middle of the chaotic world. It was quiet here, in both a literal and metaphorical sense and after the life he’s led up until now, it was more than appreciated. But that didn’t stop him from returning out in the arid wasteland to keep an eye on the boy he swore to protect. You didn’t try to stop him. You could sense how much the young boy meant to him, and you’d gotten most of the story from him over the years, so you were well aware of just exactly who he was. So you loved him as you could, and supported him however he needed.

It wasn’t until you heard him sigh softly that you decided to acknowledge his presence, “hello Obi-Wan. I was wondering when you’d get here.”

“How did you-”

“It doesn’t take much to hear the sound of that door and you, my love, have a very distinct sigh about you,” you wiped your hands on the small rag before turning to him. There was a soft, albeit tired smile on his face, “hungry?”

“Starving,” he admitted and as if on cue, his stomach grumbled loudly. You made your way over to him, wrapping your arms around him before he could argue. You knew he'd say he was dirty or sweaty and smelly, but you didn’t care. That’s what the ‘fresher was for after all. He relaxed into your touch and almost instantly it felt like he perked up, “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you took his face in your hands, gently brushing a finger over his cheek before kissing him. It was just one soft, saccharine little thing, but he clung to it like a lifeline, “come on, let’s eat and then you can get cleaned up. There’s no need to rush, we’ve got time.”

Time. It still felt like a strange, foreign concept. He’d never had time before, never had the luxury of doing what his heart desired. Before it was always about duty and obligation, doing whatever he was told and never having the time for himself. Now, despite the tragedies he’d experienced, the life that was stripped away from him in an instant, he had time. All the time in the world. It was a welcome but terrifying concept.

He had the opportunity to explore the man he could have been had not been stripped from his family as a young boy, barely old enough to remember the touch of his mother or the sound of his father’s voice. That was not to say that his past was filled with regrets, of course there were some - many, but still. It made him into the person he was today. Now he could be a different version of him, the man he could have his entire life had things been more normal - had he been normal. But then again what did normal even mean? 

“What’s wrong?” he detected the note of concern in your voice as soon as you set the stew you’d prepared in front of him. You gently brushed his hair out of his face before grabbing a bowl for yourself. You sat down across from him, trying to get a read on him, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I do hope you realize by now that you can tell me anything.”

“Of course,” the corners of his mouth tugged into a small smile as he took a seemingly thoughtful bite, “I was just thinking…I like this. You. Being with you. It is a curious thing to think that if things hadn’t…hadn’t happened as they did that I might have never met you.”

“I don’t think that’s necessarily true,” you insisted, causing Obi-Wan to raise an eyebrow in curiosity, “I just mean…well, you believe in the force right? Not believe, I mean we know it exists. It creates connections with people, binds them together…everything is as it is meant to be. It’s easy to say that about good things, but obviously there is plenty bad too. But…I don't know. I feel like perhaps we still would have found each other in some way. I like to think I was meant to meet you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, in this lifetime and all the others.”

“Are you sure you aren’t-”

“Definitely,” you interrupted him before he could even finish his sentence, “it doesn’t take a Jedi or anything special to know that much. Or perhaps I am entirely too keen on you and like to convince myself that you are too.”

“You are not flattering yourself in the slightest,” there was a glint in his eyes as your face flushed with warmth. You looked away and focused your attention on your bowl, finding it to be incredibly interesting, “I am very keen on you too.”

“Well,” you sat back with a small smile playing on your face, “that settles that then. Now eat, I know you’re starving.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

It was late by the time you felt the other side of the bed dip under his weight. He smelled like your favorite soap and shampoo now, which just made you smile. There was something about seeing him so comfortable and content that made your heart almost burst with happiness.

“About time,” you whispered through a yawn as you rolled over to face him. He chuckled softly, a sound that practically made your whole body vibrate with happiness. Obi-Wan made himself comfortable, settling into the warmth of the plush blankets you loved so much before wrapping an arm around your waist, “you smell good.”

“I smell like you,” his hand found your face as he ghosted his fingers over your face, almost as if he needed to commit this moment to memory, “I like it too.”

“Hmm,” you made a content little sound as you leaned closer to kiss him. You might have been tired, but you were never too tired for him. You kissed him gently at first, making sure he was okay with it before getting too lost in him. His response was unequivocal as he tried to pull you closer to him. You accidentally knocked your forehead against his, causing you both to giggle quietly, “oops.”

“C’mere,” he pulled himself up so he was leaning against the headboard, and proceeded to shuffle you into his lap. You beamed at him before letting your hands settle on his chest as his found purchase on your waist, “you’re beautiful.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased, internally flourishing at his comment, but trying to remain collected. He’d told you the same thing hundreds, if not thousands, of times at this point but still made you feel a certain type of way you couldn’t quite put into words, “are you going to kiss me or continue to stare at me?”

“Which would you prefer?” there was a teasing lilt to his voice and you couldn’t help but playfully groan at him, “alright, I see you have a preference.”

“If I had a say and it was possible, I would have you all over me all the time, my love,” you grinned sheepishly as a light flush rushed into his cheeks at your affection. He liked that about you - how openly caring and tender you were. He had been bereft of the touch of another for so much of his life that he never realized how desperately he yearned for now. 

He craved your touch, the feel of your soft, pliable body against his, how delicate you were. It had moved to the point where he subconsciously reached out for you, let his hand brush against yours, holding it after lacing your fingers together,  gentle touches as he moved around you, steady and firm grips as he made love to you or left you thoroughly fucked out. He liked - loved - you; and he would be remiss if he was ever devoid of your touch after getting to experience it. He was well aware that permanence was not always a guarantee in life, but he did know that you would always be a part of his. 

“Cheeky,” he commented softly before leaning in to kiss you. This time it wasn’t as gentle or tender as it had been earlier. This time there was a need and hunger lingering underneath the way he kissed you. The feel of his lips on your skin left fire in their wake, causing you to lean into him, silently asking for more. You could feel his lips curl into a small smile as he nuzzled against your jaw, “tell me what you need, my sweet girl.”

“You,” it was a breathy whisper in his ear that caused him to almost groan against your skin, “please.”

“Whatever you desire, I shall give it to you,” oh. Oh. Those words made you feel a type of way that sent electric shivers through your body. He always knew what to say, to make you feel however you needed. He kissed along your jaw, slowly working his way down your neck, admiring and praising how soft and perfect you felt, which proceeded to leave you almost breathless. It wasn’t until he was at the hollow of your throat that you proceeded to break into a fit of giggles. He stopped, looking at you in amusement, “whatever is so funny?”

“It tickles,” you lightly scratched at the scruff along his jaw, “I like it. I didn’t say to stop, keep going.”

“Now you’re just being demanding,” his large, warm hands had wandered under your night shirt and were splayed on your hips, which just made you ache even more for him.

“Are you going to deny me?” you managed to get out in between soft sounds as he moved to pull off your top, “hmm, my love?”

“I would never,” he promised softly, “ I couldn’t be so cruel.”

“Good,” you whispered in his ear before kissing his cheek, “I love you, Obi-Wan.”

He paused for a moment before swallowing thickly, the emotion almost overwhelming him. Some days it still felt so strange to hear those words, even though he knew, with every fiber of his being that what you said was true. His grip on you tightened before he quietly whispered those words back to you. And he meant it. And you knew it. He was all you needed. Just like you had become a lifeline for him.

Just as it was meant to be.

#obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi x fem!reader #obi-wan kenobi x you #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewan mcgregor x you #star wars #kenobi

[miseries-mistress]

WE SHOULD BE LOVERS | CHRISTIAN

Synopsis: Christian didn't quite know how he ended up in the electrifying atmosphere of the Moulin Rouge when he should be at his typewriter, lost in his own story, but he had caved upon his friend's consistent begging for him to step away. Now he was subjected to a glass of mediocre alcohol, but something across the room, something that would forever alter the course of his life, caught his attention; you.  

Warnings: female reader, the reader works at the moulin rouge, sex work, christian is love-struck, little bit of angst, fluff. W/C: 3579

Notes: i promise i'll write some of ewan's less popular characters. when i wrote this, i had just watched this movie and had a ton of writing inspiration. this could be better, tbh

em masterlist

Christian could safely say his entire life revolved around love. Without love, he had no purpose, simply existing between the world of the living and existing. Without love, he would have remained in London, taking a job as any man would, completing the endless cycle of disdain without the heart to change it. Without love, Christian would be no more than any other man.

All he needed was to love and be loved in return. 

It wasn't until his eyes befell a beautiful woman dressed in what appeared to be silk for the appearance of men that he truly understood his words; you.

You stopped his heart from beating in his chest, you slowed down time, and you brought him on top of a cloud- free from the world and the misery it brought on your lives. In his eyes, you were the symbol of beauty and all things divine; in that instance, you became everything.

Your body swayed with the beat of the music, lips parted, tainted with layers of makeup, your voice lost in the sea of hundreds, or what felt like hundreds. Although you lacked a genuine smile, Christian could tell from your carefree expression that the Moulin Rouge was your home, and he was merely a spectator to bear witness to your love. 

Toulouse, beside him, nudged his ribs, but Christian refused to rip his gaze away and meet his friend's, afraid that if he took his eyes off you for a second, you would vanish into the ocean of brightly colored dancers. 

While he wanted to memorize every detail of your face with a brush of his hand, reality dunked him head-first into frigid water and back into real life. He needed a name; he needed yours. 

"Have you found someone?" Toulouse asks while Christian's eyes remain hardened on your twisting figure as you turn over on a man's lap. An unprecedented flood of jealousy sweeps him off his feet, the force of it surprising even him. That should be him with his hands roaming over your delicate figure, drawing lines across the skin sheened with sweat. His lips should be caressing your skin, pulling ragged breaths from your lips that were parted so sweetly- 

He threw his head back, chasing the lust-corrupted thoughts back into the box in the back of his mind, sealing it shut with a deep breath. A part of him didn't know where these feelings had sprung from. For heaven's sake, he didn't even know your name. Yet he found himself infatuated with your every move, yearning for your pretty lashes to flutter over to where he was seated. 

"Yes," he whispered an answer to his friend's question, watching with dilated pupils as you and the tens of other dancers lowered themselves onto their knees before their partner. "Who is she?"

Toulouse followed his friend's eye line and sighed when he saw your face. Of course, Christian would be interested in you. 

You, Harold's songbird, a woman with the voice of an angel but the heart of a sinner. Anyone who had ever been to the Moulin Rouge had heard of you, but very few got the privilege of actually meeting you, for you only held private meetings with the wealthiest due to your status. There was no way you would ever agree to meet with a writer, one as new as Christian, no less. 

"That's Songbird," Toulouse shook his head knowingly while Christian reveled over your name. Somehow that seemed to fit you perfectly. It matched your flowy, graceful voice that peaked above the rest as you twirled around the man, your hips moving to the music pounding in his ears, drowning out the sinful thoughts he tried so desperately to tame. 

Toulouse swirled the drink clutched in his hand before downing the liquor. He would find a way to arrange a meeting with Songbird and Christian, even if it was the last thing he ever did. 

—

Christian isn't entirely sure how Toulouse arranged a meeting with you. He just told Christian to go to a specific building and what room it was. Christian shook his head, dispelling those thoughts. He should be focused on the opportunity he was presented with as he followed Toulouse's directions until he was led to a run-down building. The paint was peeling off the sides, revealing the stained brick underneath as the light that was supposed to illuminate the name of it flickered once, then twice before flickering off. Women roamed the streets in corsets and other scandalously-clad clothing next to the building, and feelings began to brew in his gut when Christian realized what kind of building this was; a brothel. Despite his trepidation, he entered, slightly astounded that the receptionist didn't even bother to look up from his book, allowing Christian through and up the stairs. 

205. Christian searched the worn-down plaques outside the rooms, his mind wandering as he did. What was he going to say to you? You had never seen him before, yet Christian was preparing to confess his infatuation with you. He felt nothing less than stupid, the regret already being to bleed into his skin and seep into his bones. On top of that, you would never reciprocate his feelings, you didn't know him, and your job prevented him from doing so. 

Maybe if he just talked to you, things would work out okay. He's a poet. He could do this. 

Unbeknownst to him, you had caught his gaze locked onto you from across the room the moment you entered. You were nothing less than intrigued when you found him staring so intently at you. Of course, he must not have seen your wandering gaze, but that didn't matter. What caught your attention the most was his young and youthful face, for most of the men that entered were well into their thirties, but what pulled your attention to him was his eyes. They weren't dull or ridden with lust but glistening with an emotion you don't think you've ever encountered before. You knew you couldn't go up to him, putting aside the man driving his grimy hands over your body, but how you simply longed to speak with him. No one would ever want to talk of you. This was a brothel in Montmartre, for fucks sake. No one came here just to chat.

Christian halted outside the room, double-checking the piece of paper with the room name scribbled on it. He twisted the doorknob, and to his immense surprise, it clicked and opened, creaking on its hinges. Christian took notice of the room with brightly colored walls, varying decorations spread sporadically, and the neatly cleaned bed with freshly fluffed pillows. It seemed to capture the spirit of the Moulin Rouge, your spirit, and he thought it fit you perfectly. The door clicked shut behind him, and he set his hat on the rack by the door, his ears perking at the sound of gentle footsteps.

"And I thought the writer was never planning to show." You emerged from the curtains, your hair cascading over your bare shoulders, and he had to force his eyes away from descending any lower down your stature dripping with lace. 

"Oh, hi, I-I'm Christian." He steps into the room, watching you stalk towards him. You were glad you could hide your emotions so well because the shock would have been written all over your face. It's the same man from before, the one that had caught your eye. A part of you was saddened by the revelation that he would be gone before sunrise, disappearing into the night without a trace of him for you to cling to, but that's just how these things work, and it was even more silly for you to get your hopes up of pursuing something more than a short-lived exchange steeped in impiety. You just had to play your role, receive your money, and you would remain off the street for another day. You had to focus on that, not the dashing man with a name that rolled off his tongue so easily it sent goosebumps down your arms. 

"Songbird," you replied, and Christian felt like he was going to evaporate then and there. Your voice was marred with seduction, but it trickled with honey and Gods; even your voice was pretty. Then, you place a hand on his chest, and Christian battles the urge to step back, completely baffled by the connection. 

"What's your real name?" he inquires, breathless at the contact, his eyes roaming over your face touched with enticement, which he longs to pepper with kisses. 

The question startles you in a way nothing has before. No one had ever bothered to ask your real name, content with your cleverly crafted persona, and somewhere hidden beneath the many layers of your skin, your heart involuntarily flutters. Most men by now would be discarding your clothes with haste, having their way with you, yet this man– Christian, was actually talking to you. It was like he knew you longed for meaningful interaction with him, and you welcomed the change.  

You chuckle and pull your hand free. "You need not worry about that now, my dear," you purr, sliding your hand up Christian's chest to the collar of his shirt. 

Much to your surprise, Christian stumbles back, his eyes those of a frightened animal while they seem to meet everything but yours. Now you're confused. Isn't that what he came here for? Or unless you did something wrong? You swallow the lump that seems to be growing in your throat. You can't mess this up. Everything depends on your customers and the money they bring. 

"That's not what I meant. I wanted to know who you were because..." Christian trails off, his voice sheepish. 

"I saw you dancing earlier, and I was infatuated with you." You raised an eyebrow, pacing around the man, practically trembling with anxious energy. Did he really feel the same, or was this careful deception that you were too blind to see?

"Really now?" Christian was at a loss for words, for all his poetic speech was lost upon him. Why couldn't he think straight? He surely didn't expect, out of all things you could have said, that you would question his confession. The nagging insecurity he so fruitlessly tried to oppress wondered if he was doing this right. All he wanted to do was know more about you and fall deeper into the spiral of... love? Is that what he was feeling? He craved love, the experience, the feelings, the affections, all of it, and now in the face of it, he found it hard to piece together a couple of coherent words. Quite typical of him to mess up such a chance.  

"Yes. I saw you dancing, and I was amazed by it."

"I seem to have that effect on people."

"You were breathtaking– I mean, you are breathtaking. I just wanted to find a way to talk to you." You were growing more fascinated by the second. Did all he really want to do was talk? Did he not care about sleeping with you? No, you shook your head. Of course, he wanted to sleep with you. That's what he was paying for. You internally slapped yourself. Why would you ever foolishly think he could want anything else but sex? 

"You sure all you want to do is talk?" you suggest seductively, purring as your hands run down his side. It was undeniable now that Christian was much more charming than all the rest. Ebony strands that hung neatly and delicately fall over his pale complexion, and you fight the impulse to run your hands through them.

Wait…

You shook that preposterous thought from your mind. Christian is nothing more than a customer who will leave before sunrise only to never return. Though you had to admit, his demeanor was far from what you usually encounter. While he held an embarrassed half-quirked smile, there was a hint of cheekiness behind it, almost boyish. His eyes were a strange, impossibly soft blue with flecks of silver amidst the penetrating rays of the moon, glittering like a thousand of the brightest stars. His cheeks flush a hazy shade of pink at the question you had forgotten you asked. 

"I'm sure," he nodded stiffly. Christian debated whether to touch you, but his nervousness seemed to temporarily disappear with your hands roving over his chest. His hand moved to push back the hair that strayed into your enrapturing eyes, and your breath caught in your throat. The touch was so gentle. You've been touched before many times in your life, but you can't recall an instance where the touch felt innocent, pure. Even with the slightest bit of conversation exchanged, you felt yourself falling deeper into the velvet of his voice, entranced by the validity of his words. 

"I truly do admire you, and if it's okay, I would like to get to know you better because…because I think I'm in love with you." You chuckled, lifting his chin with the point of your finger. You've heard this confession from more men than you could count. It was refreshing from the stern and cold attitudes you seemed to encounter more and more often, but it was different, exciting even for men to believe so much into your persona of a temptress. While it gives you hope for a better feature, it leaves your male counterparts embarrassed, either stabbing away in a furry or apologizing bumblingly. 

"Thank you, Christian, but I can't love." Christian stepped back, and you barely contained your disappointment, the crease between your eyebrows deepening as he looked stricken, if not appalled, by your confession. 

"You can't love? A life without love is existing between the lines of the living and dead. A life without love–"

"-keeps me off the streets, Christian," you mused, smoothing out his dress shirt. It was endearing how passionate he was about love, a feeling you couldn't quite wrap your head around, for you've never seen what love looks like. You've heard stories from the other girls about the weightlessness of love or the singular greatest feeling of genuine joy it brings them, but you've never seen it or felt it, for that matter. Your parents were no example of what love is, as told by the other girls, and living in a brothel surely is no accurate representation of it. So what was love, really? A feeling? A sensation? A reaction? Was it like hope or lust? Or was it fear that seemed to twist inside your gut at the thought of him leaving?

"Love is what lifts us up into where we belong!"

"Love doesn't pay or bring food to the table, Christian." 

You didn't understand why you were arguing with him about love. Sure he had caught your attention, but you couldn't comprehend why you were indulging in a fantasy you didn't belong in. It was ridiculous, and if you two weren't intending to sleep together, then he was just wasting your time. You needed the money, your rent bill was due, and you were fifteen dollars short, which also happened to be the amount your customers paid for your service. You needed the money, and that was the cold, sobering truth. 

You took a step away from him, but he swung around you. 

"All you need is love, Songbird."  

"You're a writer! If you can't pay, then–"

"Give me one night," his voice dropped an octave. The silkiness of it sent you dissolving into a puddle of stricken desire on the floor. His lopsided smile never dropped; if possible, it brightened at your breathless expression.

"I can't, Christian. My life demands–"

"Then run away with me."

"We just met!"

"I don't see why that has to stop us."

"You don't even know my real name."

"Only because you won't tell me."

"There's no way because you can't pay." His smile dropped, and you could see the gears turning in his head, straining to think of anything to get you to stay. He knew you felt the same as him; he saw it in your eyes and demeanor, but your job prohibited it. If he could put the material idea of money aside, he knew you could be happy with him. He just needed one chance to get you to stay. Call him a love-sick fool, but he wouldn't give up on you. This connection, like electricity coursing through his very being when he was around you, set his soul alight, and now he was burning with that same passion. 

"Just one night, in the name of love, just one night." 

You found yourself giggling as he twirled around, finding his way back into your eyes. His irises were so expressive with a mixture of childish wonder and fantasy with swirls of adoration doting within his playful demeanor. This was not how it was supposed to go. You weren't supposed to fall in love with a customer. You needed to eat and afford your rent. You couldn't do that and the Moulin Rouge if you indulged in your fascination. 

"It's impossible." That was the right thing to do. You dismissed the thought entirely before you ran away with it because you knew that if you stayed any longer within Christian's intoxicating presence, you would never leave and bind yourself to the endless devotion of love. 

"All you need is love," he sang sweetly, his breath inches from the shell of your ear, sending an array of goosebumps down your arm. You froze. The erratic beating of your heart pounding in your ears was all you could hear before his lips parted, releasing a breath that traveled straight down your spine, fogging your head with an unfamiliar haze of an even more unfamiliar emotion. "Don't you see, darling?"

You had to stop, push the man away, and find someone willing to pay for your services. Before you knew it, the back of Christian's hand faintly touched your face, running down it briefly. His touch was as light as a feather, like he feared you would break. You could get used to this feeling of being loved by a man who only wanted you to return his affections. His hand lingered for a moment longer before returning to his side, the phantom of his touch the only reminder that it was real. You felt yourself being drawn in, dizzy under his intoxicating presence, engrossed in his sparkling eyes that seemed to dazzle even brighter under the moonlight seeping through the curtains. 

"Don't leave me this way. Your tantalizing touches breathe life into my soulless body." 

"You would think I would possess enough sense to turn away." 

His lips quirked into a crooked grin, bringing butterflies erupting from the depths of your stomach. "You would think so."

You can't... 

The bitter reality brought you crashing down from your euphoric high. You wouldn't be able to make any money, and Christian certainly couldn't support two people, no matter how talented he is. You take a step back, away from the center of the room. You can't.

"We can't. It's unrealistic, a reality we cannot afford to indulge in." You dropped your gaze. Not so deep down, you knew your words were empty, but you had already fallen too deep into the rabbit hole to climb back now. 

Christian's face dropped, his heart sinking into his stomach. As selfish as it may sound, he needed you, your love, your touch, your body, everything. He needed it deep within his soul. He longed with every fiber of his being for that feeling of being loved in return so much, so he was afraid it was blinding him. But how could the love he harbored for you be so wrong when all he wanted to do was envelop you within his embrace and whisper words of reassurance into your ear? 

"Just one night," he whispered in a desperate plea, his eyes squeezing together while you felt your back hit the wall, sliding over your exposed skin. "One night to show you where love will lift us up to."

Every thought concerning the future was haphazardly thrown from your mind leaving you breathless in the present. There was no need to worry about money, security, housing, or any of it while Christian looked at you so dearly. 

"What if I fall?" your voice comes out as a whisper as your eyes find his freshly shinned shoes. Christian's calloused forefinger slips underneath your chin, raising your head, so your eyes meet his, and you discover a sense of solace among them.  

"Then I'll catch you when we land."

#christain moulin rouge #moulin rouge 2001 #moulin rouge movie #moulin rouge #ewan mcgregor christian #christian x reader #christian moulin rouge #moulin rouge fluff #moulin rouge christian #ewan mcgregor x you #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewan mcgregors characters #ewan mcgregor moulin rouge #ewan mcgregor avatars #x reader #ewan mcgregor #ewanfuckinmcgregor #movie musicals #christain x reader #female reader

[kneamet]

could you please do jealous/possessive roman sionis???

blood moon ball

Trigger Warning: angst, obsession, drabble, yandere

Word Count: 613

Character: roman sionis/reader

blood moon ball

A mad night under a cold moon, the scarlet sky of flesh waved love in a haze. Stars were scrawled on the ceiling — so far away, almost real! the constellation of the monster pointed the way, dragged back into a deep, cruel and pathetic embrace; an embrace full of darkness and depravity, death and blood. It was the blood moon ball — Roman was the main guest, and angering him was like an execution. This is a one— actor theater for a single spectator — you. A spectator doomed to eternal imprisonment, contemplating the whole horror of life with faded eyes.

Lost to yourself, the whole world, but not to Roman, you were connected with strangers by a thread. They were sitting on chairs —coquettes with fake eyebrows, shiny earrings and mocking pupils, gentlemen with bloody hearts, greasy smiles and tasteless clothes. A row of flickering chandeliers poured abundant rays on the joyful faces of famous thieves, murderers who were going to shed a bloody sweat. And only you, like a small white flower sprouted in dirt and gloom, looked around the club in confusion, unable to move. Not being able to say a word against Roman that squeezed you in an insatiable embrace.

He kissed your neck, breathed hotly on your bare shoulders and ran his gloved hands along your waist. You shuddered, trembled and thoughtlessly looked into the distance, envied the crowd of harlots that were overcome with passion, madly rejoiced, traded in lost beauty and honor; they are carefree, who decided that life belongs to them; they are the same as you were a few months ago. Roman, not paying attention and ordering Zsasz to guard the most remote chairs, whispered in ear:

"Mine, mine, mine…"

The skin was covered with goosebumps, the heart beat faster. Your gaze was poisoned by endless longing. Forgotten dreams rise again with royal towers, block, help to live in the male world of the Novel. Roman protects you, protects you and pleases before you, ready to get the enemy's heart and present it on a platter. His control knows no bounds, but you feel — or should feel — safe. You're not in danger, but I'm worried, baby! he keeps saying, once again closing you at home. He says he has to protect.

Roman is a fragrant, luxurious fruit, a tombstone urn asking for tears; it is an evil spirit chasing from all sides, burning your chest with an unclean flame; you are forced to breathe it, inhale and swallow. Roman is a spider, he weaves webs and entangles victims, lives several lives that are nothing to him. His nets envelop the whole Gotham and it is not possible to get out, and why would you do that? Every girl in the city dreams of being in the bed of Roman Sionis, so why do you refuse?

Prohibitions multiply like bacteria, ordinary relationships will turn into continuous obligations and services — don't do this, don't do that. You sigh, trying to say something, but you are silent, afraid, remembering the bruises left on your neck. Suddenly you twitch when you feel the touch of tongue on the skin and the wet trail left. Roman, like a cat, makes this gesture, as if trying to ask for forgiveness, to lick wounds. Paying attention to a man walking with a drunken gait to your table, you don't even have time to say a word, as he, leaning against, demands something:

"Pretty, you want…"

He is interrupted by a dull bullet fired in the forehead. He falls with a thud, softly, almost inaudible thanks to the loud music. Your eyes widen and you swallow; Roman runs a gun through your hair.

"Mine."

im sorry if this isnt exactly what u wanted, i can always write something different fur u, anon! also, please indicate which type u would like to read - a drabble (500~ words) or a fic (2000+ words), since they are very different in content. drabble is more of a rest than a full-fledged job, so they may not be very interesting, perhaps boring and clumsy in terms of the plot. but if you liked it, then im very glad!

#yandere #yandere roman sionis x you #yandere roman sionis x reader #yandere roman sionis #yandere x reader #yandere black mask #yandere dc #obsession #angst #ewan mcgregor #yandere ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x you #ewan mcgregor x reader #black mask #dc #obi wan #obsessive #obsessive roman sionis #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis #roman sionis x you #batman #harley queen #yandere dc comics #dark #birds of prey #obi wan kenobi

[phoeebsbuffay]

Imagine you are friends with Ewan McGregor. But this friendship some day is catapulted into something else…

Warnings: none; all fluffy.

***

You are coming out of your late 20’s, but your circle of friends have the double of your age. It’s inevitable mostly due to where you work—when you are part of the cinema’s industry, which demands most of your time, your colleagues turn into your friends.

You are independent too. These friends usually joke about your old soul: you are there to earn money, not a fan of socializing too much and then going back home. It’s been like that for a few years. It’s stressing working with the production of a movie even if you are not entirely the official part of it—you are mostly behind other kind of agencies, working as a consultant because you are graduated in cultural studies; but sometimes you meddled into other fields such as the post production. You are not even good with technology, but there you are. The more work, the more money.

You live by yourself and you are content with that. When it gets lonely, you go out on a date—only to be remembered that guys of your age were such a waste of time. You never thought about trying to date older men because you came to realize that problem with men is…they are men. A dumb generalization that might be, but after three terrible experiences in relationships, could you be blamed?

So your work friends are mostly the ones you spend your free time with. It’s Friday night when Sheryl invited you for a small party that’s happening in her place and she’s begging you to go because she’s beginning to think you don’t like anyone else by staying too much at home.

You don’t know how Ewan McGregor, that celebrity everyone has been having a crush on him these days because of his most recent role as Obi-Wan Kenobi, ended up joining the choir of friends who want to see you there.

“You’ve been working too hard, Y/N.” He told you on the day before, Thursday. He’s been working with the company you’ve been hired to, and so suddenly you’ve become friends. “I barely see you out here. Did you just move to the studio Y/C? Do you even have a home to call your own?”

You laughed at his teasing. You appreciated his good mood, it’s a quality you esteem on him. In these last twelve months since you’d been acquainted to his person, as a good observer you’ve become, you could tell his qualities and flaws—one of which making justice to him being “aries” person. You have your secret fondness for astrological things and it never ceases to amuse you seeing him every inch an Aries male. He is open, nice, kind but also competitive, grumpy at times and not very patient. You could also tell how much he likes to tease you.

“You’d be surprised if I told you I am not a homeless individual.” You raised an eyebrow at him, watching him laugh again. It’s a very loud laughter by the way, which only makes him more comical. “Is it difficult to believe I actually enjoy what I do for living?”

He patted your shoulder.

“You’d be shocked to know you are not the only one workaholic here.” He chuckled when you slapped his arm playfully. “Come on. I’ve never ever seen you with a boyfriend or…”

“No boyfriends. Zero. I have little patience to men.” You giggled. “Since when are you interested in my love life? I thought you hated gossip readings, Ewan. Are you the new frontman of “E! News”?”

“Aren’t you funny, Y/nickname? Come on. Am I going to see you Friday or what? I assure you, its something you need.”

You sighed dramatically.

“Since you insist…”

“I actually do.” Ewan smiled at you. “So are you coming, right?”

“Yes. I will be there.”

“Awesome. You need to live a little bit, Y/N. You won’t regret it.”

But now it’s 7:30 pm and you hesitate before the door of an apartment that is clearly loud. Oh my God, what am I going into? I’ve clearly lost my social abilities to party somewhere in my life…

You are dressed nicely: a long white sleeve blouse with a dark skirt and some pair of black boots. Your y/c hair falls in curls down to your shoulders and there’s some make up in your face along earrings in your ears. You are looking more fancy than in your work days where you’d use a bunny, any blouse appropriated to work and jeans.

Okay, I can do it.

So you ring it. You can hear your friend Sheryl shouting over the sound of music to someone attend the door because she’s busy with the kitchen. You giggle at it.

Why are you surprised to see Ewan opening it for you?

“And you actually came!” He laughs heartily. For some reason, you blush. Is it because of his warmth welcome or the way he looked at you? Oh please, shush yourself, Y/N. You clearly think you are seeing things where there’s nothing to see. “You lookin’ gorgeous, dear Y/N. I thought honestly I’d ever live to see you dressing like the woman you are.”

You are pretty sure your face is burning. But since he’s a good friend, you don’t see malice in his words. You laugh at him instead.

“Aren’t you kind, Mr McGregor? If you had ever seen me to a party, you’d not be seeing these things.”

“Do you even party?” He seems particularly inspired to pick on you today.

“I once did”, you laugh. “Silly man.”

After you walk in and he closes the door, you give him a hug. It is meant to only last one second or two. But damn his scent is so good. And your hand seems to linger over his shoulder. Is he that strong?

You blush upon such unwelcoming and uninvited thoughts. It doesn’t really help that he seems to reluctantly let go of your grip.

What did it just happen?

Ewan is about to say something—and you can tell your body is reacting oddly by the looks he’s giving you; you, however, suppress whatever this is, claiming to yourself that it’s just the heat—when Sheryl interrupts him by giving you a warm hug and saying how happy she is to see you.

You don’t look back as she drags you inside her home, so you don’t see Ewan’s eyes following your moves, trying not to lose you out of his sight.

When did this begin?

As he serves himself a cup of beer, he is reminded of your first day at work. The director, who happens be his friend, was looking for a consultant in regards to a certain period of European history, was showing the scenario to you when he popped up. For some reason, Ewan liked you from the first day, specially because of your sense of humor and your quick wit. It was only with time that he began to notice your beauty—nah, in fact seeing how beautiful you were was what made him acquaint himself to you. He was meant to ask you out, but you’ve never been clear about your thoughts in regard him—you seemed content to the friendship he offered you, so why’d he cross that line?

Now he seems oddly impatient, watching your moves, noticing your laughters, the kindness you display affectionately to the friends you have in common, completely unaware of his gaze. However, he takes his time. Ewan distracts himself greeting others too, engaging himself in small talks. Why would he be daunted by a strange urge to have your attention? It surely isn’t sexual. If it was the case, he’d not mind feeding the friendship for a year.

I mean, yeah friendship worked well for me. But now there’s just something about it that is not enough… I must know if she returns my feelings.

He clearly got stuck into his overthinking a little too much to miss your presence by his side.

“Hey, what’s going on in your world?” You poke his side. “It’s a nice gathering, don’t you think? It does make it worthy leaving home.”

Ewan glances at you. A small smirk pops on the corner of his lips.

“Who knew I’d hear it from you? I thought you were about to say goodbye and get back home.” He laughs and you too, because isn’t he funny?! “Seriously, though, I’m glad you came.”

Something about his glance makes you blush. For a day that is cold, you are surprisingly hot—no pun intended.

“Thank you, your gentleness is always appreciated.” You smile at him. “How’s the beer?”

“All good. A party is often better with a great deal with alcohol.” He tells you. “But nothing is compared to a company like you.”

You laugh nervously. You’d never expect to his forwardness towards you.

“You are succeeding to make me blush, Ewan. How bold of you.” You take a long sip of your beer. “I thought you were dating that actress…?”

Ewan raises an eyebrow at you, amusement is twinkling in his eyes. Oh this is going good, he thought.

“Nope. I’ve been single about a year and half. But I don’t remembering you telling me about your relationships, though.”

You tilt your head.

“My love life is not as interesting as yours.” You smirk in turn.

“Come on, now. That’s not a fair statement. I’ve been married a while ago, but that’s it. And I’m a decent father too. Details you’ve been familiar with. You, on the other hand…”

“It’s true. I don’t mean to make any secrecies. I just thought it was obvious that…”

You are interrupted by Sheryl, who says:

“Excuse me, but we are about to karaoke and you are the only one who can sing Dua Lipa.”

You burst into laughters.

“What? Who said that?”

“Ewan, you can talk to her later!”

And before you know, you are dragged into karaoke by good friend Sheryl. This time, though, you look back and your eyes meet Ewan’s. As he takes his beer to his lips, you see a prominent smirk as he watches you, which you respond with another of your own.

***

You know there’s alcohol in you when you are singing:

“If you wanna run away with me I know a galaxy and I can take you for a ride!” And you shoot a glance at him.

Because of references.

You giggle because he seems the only one to understand. You flush because he’s smiling all the way at you.

Oh shit. What have you done to yourself?

“You want me baby, I want you baby…”

Somebody stop me right now. But you can’t seem to look away, can you?

No one seems to notice, thankfully. But the old soul in you has clearly abandoned you when you entertain your friends by singing a general favorite singer.

“Come dance with me. I’m levitating!”

Or your favorite singer. Everyone is laughing not at you, but because it’s funny: you usually told them that you preferred old rock and roll bands until one day your Spotify playlist was open and… “HAHAHA Y/N is a huge Dua Lipa fan!”

Ugh. Your “introspective rocker old soul” reputation is long dead and gone.

“Another one! You sing beautifully!” Sheryl is the leader of the choir of friends who share the opinion that, my God, Y/N has such a beautiful voice!

You doubt there was a day you’ve been redder than today.

“I have to agree with them.” Ewan joins them. You think you might explode, already exposed to ridiculousness. “Your voice is very nice to hear, my dear Y/N. Where had you been hiding?”

“Oh please! No, no. I’ve had enough and I’m pretty sure you guys too.”

But because there is a great insistence led by Ewan, could you really refuse them? You sigh, but choose—ironically?—“Love Again” to sing.

As you do so, your eyes are almost drawn to him. Why, you ask yourself. But he seems to capture the nearly unconscious message one simple look gives away.

Uh-oh.

Ewan smiles to himself. The flirtations that night clearly show him he has little reason to hesitate any further. Even so he knows how to wait despite his impatience.

He watches you sing, but his merry state to know you are reciprocating his sentiments gives place to concern. As the party comes to an end, Ewan knows there’s just too much alcohol in you.

“I’m driving you home”, he tells you after cake is served.

You think you are not giving away the drunkenness. Or you pray that it is not evident.

“I can have an Uber”, you say.

“No way. I won’t let a stranger take you on this occasion.” Ewan insists. “I’m worried, to be honest. You don’t usually drink, do you?”

It’s when you pale.

“Oh God. Am I embarrassing you?”

Why would you ask that?! The moment you know it’s too late. Ewan laughs.

“Of course not, dear Y/Nickname. It’s nice living a little bit, but I am just worried, is all.”

You exchange glances. And you smile because you can’t simply deny how you feel anymore.

***

He calls you the next day. To remember all the embarrassment makes you hesitate. But it is too late to deny you’ve been, eh, harboring a different affection than that of a friend would for the other for a long time.

“Hi, Ewan. What’s good?” You answer at long last.

He chuckles. Ewan can tell about your awkwardness just by the tone of your voice.

“I’m checking on you. Are you well? Has hangover attacked you yet?” Ewan asks lightly, but you can tell his genuine preoccupation by his voice too.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you for calling. I’ve been under blankets mostly.” You giggle softly. “I’m looking after myself. It’s been a long while since I’ve done this bullshit.”

“It’s okay. It happens, you shouldn’t be overly worried about it. Sometimes I exaggerate in alcohol. Don’t forget to drink some water, yes?”

You just realize that hearing his Scottish accent is a huge turn on. Oh boy.

“Thank you, E. And by the way, thank you for dropping me home yesterday. That is very nice of you.”

“It’s no problem. I’m glad you are home safely.”

You do enjoy listening to his voice, so you start another topic.

“How’s your weekend going?”

“It’s all good. I came to check on my daughters. They are nice kids.”

Your smile grows in your lips as he talks about his family. It is a topic that you’d once run from, but with him it’s natural. It’s nothing forced. You enjoy hearing his habits with his family. You are not hit with the doubt of involving yourself with someone whose priority is and will always be family. You are good with that.

If anything it makes him a responsible and mature man. But when you turn your phone off eventually because you both have things to do—it’s not like you didn’t just spend three hours on the phone—your insecurities take hold of your mind.

What can I offer him as a potential match? As a woman, am I good enough for him?

And then came the trauma of former relationships.

Can you trust his feelings for you are not entirely moved by carnal needs? Can you trust your heart to a man so experienced as him? You’ve dated a much older guy once and you ended up hurt because you both had different expectations.

You begin to pace anxiously in your apartment. You question your qualities, your flaws. You question yourself.

It takes some time before you decide to resolve all of this not by calling your therapist, but by simply ignoring as you decide to overindulge in chocolate and watch some random movie on tv.

“Oh great. It’s “Jane Eyre” again.”

***

You don’t cross path with Ewan until Wednesday. Before then you remember you’ve been so nervous that you could not concentrate at work entirely and when someone asked you, you’d say your hormones were making it difficult for you.

When he comes at you, you are distracted in the computer reviewing the script again because the screenwriter decided to make it look fancy a kidnapping in medieval days when the reality was so much worse.

“Are the screenwriters giving you headache again?” He asks you, leaning close enough to you that you smell his perfume.

You blush instantaneously.

“Hey, Ewan. Long time no see.” You tease him. “But yeah, they decide to romanticize something brutal for the media purpose.”

You sigh.

“But it’s part of the job, so strange would be if I didn’t stress myself out.”

His eyes linger at you again. He’s admiring you and when the blush paints your pink cheeks, Ewan decides that there’s no better view he’d like to admire.

“I understand. It’s going to pass. One thing I know is that this comes with anything that demands our good will to make things work.”

He smirks at you.

“So hey I wanted to make a crazy proposition.” He rests his chin over his hand.

“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow. You are not expecting that. Should you fear what invitation is coming?

Ewan laughs at your reaction.

“I was wondering… I’ve been planning to take a road trip on Europe by motorcycle. Not by the usual means, I know. And it’s…”

You don’t know where your reasonable and antissocial went when you interrupt him:

“Yes.”

Ewan glances at you, surprised. He somehow expected to find resistance in you.

“Really? I thought you would say no. I mean you don’t strike me as some adventurous lady.”

You fold your arms and turn your chair to him. You frown at him.

“And I was expecting you’d ask me out normally like most guys do.”

Ewan throws his head back and laughs.

“Fine. Fair enough. I’m glad to hear that. I’m going tomorrow back to Scotland.”

“I’ll see you at the airport.”

He smiles at you, seemingly more excited than he’d show. You smile too.

But when you turn to finish your work, you come to your senses.

Oh my God. What did I just agree to?

***

It all starts in Edinburgh. Ewan finds adorable how you are composed when you prepare to mount on the motorcycle, clearly unused not only to motorcycles but to this kind of adventure. He knows he’s showing you more to life than you’ve ever seen. An idea that excites him too.

“Are you ready?” He asks. “There’s still time to give up.”

You roll your eyes at his teasings. Always picking on you, uh?

“Never.” You tell him.

You accommodate right behind him, wrapping your arms around him right after you put the helmet. You bite your bottom lip when he turns it on and begins the ride.

You know it’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done in life. For someone who was workaholic and whose friends were your co-workers, hardly having time to live, you come to realize that you have never lived at all. You’ve been just stuck in what? Shielding yourself to avoid misery?

“How are you doing back there?” You hear Ewan inquire after your well being. His voice has to be louder than the crazy wind that blows against you two.

“Awesome!” You say. “Adrenaline is already running in my veins!”

Ewan chuckles, pleased.

“Good! Next stop is going to be York! We are making distant travels, but if you want to stop by please let me know!”

“I will.” You assure him.

Though it turns out to be a silent road trip, you don’t mind it all. You smile all the way, enjoying to hold him so close as your eyes capture the wild landscape with far more attention than you might’ve notice had you been in a car.

You do every now and then look up at the skies to check the weather. Not only it is cold, but you swear you heard clouds tumbling into another, and God knows you hate thunder and lightnings. However, to your relief, you don’t need to worry anymore once he crosses the limits of Scotland to finally enter England.

That first day of your journey ends up well. You are still moved by adrenaline when you reach the hotel where Ewan paid in advance for the reservations.

“So, your thoughts?” Ewan asks you as you go upstairs. You’d still have to eat, but you don’t seem to mind that. “I want to hear you. The bad thing about traveling by motorcycle is that we can’t talk very much as we’d do by car.”

“Oh it’s okay! No need to apologize. I’m still speechless”, you tell him excitedly. “I’ve never done this kind of travel before. My God, Ewan! Thank you.”

You are impetuous when you give him a kiss on his cheek. What are you thinking? But somehow when Ewan gives you a fond look, you know it’s worthy it moving some feet far from your comfortable zone.

***

So the road trip continues. Each country, each city, the two of you deepens the bond by enjoying yourself getting to know historical spots, visiting places few tourists would go and eating different restaurants.

However, it’s not until you two reach Paris that you’d have the talk about the nature of your relationship. Because, however hard you were trying to conceal, you were anxious about why he didn’t even make moves at all. He knows that even if you are enjoying yourself—Ewan sees you do—you are asking yourself whether there is a romantic purpose in sharing an intimate journey without proper intimacy.

So there you are. The two of you are leaving a nice restaurant in Paris and he’s taking you to the famous bridge in the city known for its romantic attributes.

“I know there’s been some doubts going in this head of yours.” He begins, locking hands with you as he stops right there.

Your hair is loose and tonight you are wearing a red gown that salients your curves—a temptation to Ewan to resist, truth be told; the whole purpose why you chose that dress in first place. A smirk twitches in the corner of your lips when noticing his eyes running up and down your body.

“Well?” You clear your throat to get his attention. He blushes, a sight you find adorable to behold.

“I wanted to wait…”

You wouldn’t miss the chance to tease him like he used to tease before asking you out—better yet to this long European journey.

“Of course not, an impatient man as you. Sorry, I’ll let you speak.”

He chuckles.

“Thank you.” Ewan remarks sarcastically before carrying on. “I haven’t been in a relationship since my divorce. Although it happened many years ago, I never felt inclined to… well, fall in love. I was often, eh, involved in more casual things every now and then when the needs of the flesh became difficult to bear. But I assure you I am not the kind of imbecile you might think from what i said…”

“You don’t have to justify yourself, darling. You were single. You were doing what single people usually do.” You smile at him.

“So comprehensive.” He gives you a crooked grin. “All right. So… I won’t deny I’ve been attracted to you for a long while. But I wanted to see where this would go. Despite what you say about my impatience, I learned how to wait. I suppose it’s why I’ve taken so long to say what I am comfortable to tell you. I love you, Y/N. And I would like us to be… well, more than friends.”

Perhaps it’s because you’ve grown so close to each other that an influence is impossible to run from. Or perhaps it’s part of who you are, of who you’ve always been, but your fears blinded you to your true self.

Whatever the case, you lean towards him, your hands around his neck as you say:

“I thought you’d never ask, Ewan. I shall tend your heart. I love you. I may have since day one.”

As if to show your point, you lean to kiss his lips, a more than welcoming gesture as he kisses you back. And there the two of you stay together, the first day of a new relationship to both of you, but also the spark of something strong that might lead you to a better future than you could expect.

#star wars #Star Wars imagine #Ewan McGregor #Ewan McGregor x you #Ewan McGregor x y/n #Ewan McGregor x reader #obi wan kenobi

[stardancerluv]

A Night Out, Club 44

Part 6

Summary: Part of what it is to be Roman’s girl.

Warning: None

Note: decided to show side by side their night.

The elevator announced its arrival at the penthouse with a ding and the doors whispered open. After stepping out, you leaned against the wall. Reaching down you undid the straps for your heals. You loved wearing them, especially when you were dressed up for Roman. But when given the chance, you didn’t mind slipping free of them either.

*******

Roman, could still feel your kiss lingering on his cheek as his thumbs grazed the wheels that opened the briefcase Zsasz handed him. The briefcase popped open.

He slipped off his gloves that he had worn to go out. Putting them down, he eyed these particular pairs in the case. These were ones strictly for carrying out business.

*******

Picking up your heals, you made your way to Roman’s bedroom. Coming around to the side of the bed you frequented. Stretching, you sighed and let yourself fall back into the softness of the bed.

You closed your eyes contently, with a sigh on your lips you stretched once again. Sitting up, you didn’t really want to sleep just yet. Thinking about it for a moment, biting on your bottom lip you decided you’d take a bath. It would help ease the last of the tension you felt from your encounter with Falcone and his men. His bath is so roomy, you loved it.

*******

Slipping on a pair, he eyed them closely. They were a finely sewed by his tailor. They were a dark, dull black in a slightly brilliant black thread, if one looked close enough you could see his initials. He did enjoy seeing them on his things. These particular pairs were excellent for when he held his gun or even better one of his knives.

He hated dirtying one of his more elegant pairs for the dirty deeds he had to carry out. What he hated even more was when he had to throw one those pairs into the incinerator. Tonight, he had the luxury of changing his gloves.

Flipping up the compartment that held his extra gloves, he eyed his knives. They were nestled into the black velvet that lined that portion. As he looked down at them, one side of mouth twitched upward, loving how only he knew how sharp they really were.

******

You had drapped your silky dress over the chair that sat in one corner of Roman’s bedroom. Tucked beside it were the lacy panties and bras, you had hoped to slowly reveal to Roman. You repressed the frown that wanted to come, so you grimaced. There would be other times. So with your arms wrapped around yourself, you went into the large bathroom. You finally shivered when you cold feet padded across the cool floor.

Happily, you turned on the warm water and with a clink you opened the slim, metal container and took out a bath bomb. You were growing to find out just how luscious of a life Roman came to enjoy.

Eyeing the folded towels, you made sure to grab one of his larger and incredibly soft towels. You laid it on the warmer. Going back to the tub you watched as the bomb fizzled away and gave off a scent that you enjoyed catching a whiff of when it managed to cling to Roman and was not overpowered by his aftershave.

******

The rain kept up its steady beat against the roof of the rolls before streaking down the windows. Zsasz, had always been keen on learning from those that concerned Roman. So Roman, was rather pleased as Zsasz kept him and the rolls a safe distance, from that thug as he made some stops at place, Roman knew were in Falcone’s pocket. No place was safe when collection time called. Or at least that is what he had gathered from his allies.

Roman, wanted his allies to remain loyal. Fear could only take him so far. He instilled that with relish. He loved watching people grow pale or their eyes widen in disbelief over what he was truly capable of. Something, he’d never let you be aware. He didn’t want to frighten you.

That said, he also knew when to cultivate and make them feel important. He wanted them to feel appreciated. It made it alot easier when he had the need to call on them.

*****

Pleased with the level of the water, holding one of the sides, you finally stepped and settled into the warm water. You murmured something incoherently as you sat back against the one side with your eyes closed. Slouching down with your eyes still closed, you stopped till you felt the water lap at your chin.

This was exactly what you had needed. Sitting up, opening your eyes you felt good. Your eyes, drifted gently over the dark, marbled bath. Everything about it screamed Roman.

Looking down, your eye caught the glimmer of the bracelet that still hung from your wrist. Bringing your wrist from the water, was brighter as droplets of water mmm clung to the delicate golden flower.

Your heart felt like it sped up and stilled all at once. How, you didn’t know. Though since being Roman’s girl, it was a peculiar sensation you had grown accustomed to. Whether you’d get used to it was another thing entirely. In your head, thoughts swirled. He was out there, in the rain since someone had decided to be rough with you. He should be here behind you, his warm strong arms around you as you leaned against him.

@xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @nebulastarr @zodiyack @angel98624 @emyliabernstein @itsknife2meetu @vcat55 @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @babydoll97-blog1 @hazel-nuss @feelthemadnessinside @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @chogisss @xxinvisiblexx @shantellorraine @blondekel77 @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight @generallj @thebeckyjolene @dogmatic255 @bdffkierenwalker @hase-hoe @theredmage13 @nanagoswife

#ewan mcgregor #fanfiction #roman sionis #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewan mcgregor x y/n #ewan mcgregor x you #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis x you #roman sionis x y/n #black mask #black mask fanfiction #roman sionis fanfiction #black mask x reader #black mask x you #black mask x y/n #A Night Out Club 44 #part 6 #f!reader #fem!reader

[mlmxreader]

The Jealous Type | Obi Wan Kenobi x m!reader

Anonymous asked: "Say it. Say you're mine." obi wan x male reader

summary: Obi Wan isn't the jealous type, bit sometimes people cross the line and he does get a little possessive.

tws: possession, jealousy

You and Obi Wan worked well as a team, you always had, after so many years working together it wasn't really a surprise though; you were his right hand man, by all accounts, and wherever he went, you followed. You were always there at his side, and no one was ever surprised when Obi Wan walked into the room and you were following closely behind; a man of your status, being so close to Obi Wan Kenobi himself, you were often the object of people's desires, and while you laughed them off, Obi Wan never did. He wasn't the jealous type, not usually, but he did like to remind you of who it was your heart belongs to; he wasn't the jealous type, but sometimes people crossed a line and he wasn't particularly fond of that.

It seemed like a normal day, you and Obi Wan were out doing what you needed, when some Marshal introduced himself to you; you had to admit, he was rather handsome - greying hair, hazel eyes, a charming smile and a little bit of facial hair. He was charming by all accounts, but the second you looked over at Obi Wan, you forgot all about the handsome Marshal.

"So, uh, can I buy you a drink?" He asked, snapping your attention back to him.

You shook your head, chuckling as you stuffed your hands in your pockets and offered a polite smile. "No, thank you. I have too much to do today."

"You sure?" He raised a brow. "Handsome fella like yourself, out here all alone... ain't right."

"Oh, he's not alone," Obi Wan growled as he walked over, jaw clenched. "Believe me, he really isn't."

The Marshal looked between you and Obi Wan, and saw the way that he looked at you, how those blue eyes were so focused on you that it was hard to think that he had strayed from your side at all; the way that Obi Wan laid his hand so calmly around your waist and so casually pulled you into his side, like it was nothing more than an instinctive and unconscious reaction, like breathing. The way that you immediately leaned into him, and put your hand on his chest. Even the Marshal could tell that you and Obi Wan were close.

He cleared his throat, and took a step back. "My apologies. I didn't realise-"

"I assume you didn't ask, either," Obi Wan guessed, and when the Marshal held up his hands, Obi Wan nodded. "May we continue with our business, Marshal?"

"'Course," he nodded, no harm was done, he flashed you and Obi Wan a polite smile. "Give me a shout if you need anything - and, uh, if you two want that drink, I'll be there at six."

You and Obi Wan thanked him, and let him go on his way, but as soon as he was out of earshot, Obi Wan had you backed up against a rock feature, hungry as he kissed you harshly and let you grab his hair and put a hand at the back of his neck, starving as he pinned your wrists above your head and moaned softly against your lips when you bucked your hips into him. He used the Force to hold you up when you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He pulled away, his voice low and gruff as he dared to demand, "who do you belong to?"

"You," you whimpered, making a vain attempt to kiss him again. "Only you, Obi Wan."

"Again," he growled. "Say it. Say you're mine. I need to hear you say it again."

"I'm all yours," you breathed out. "Only yours. Only ever yours."

He dared to smile, letting go of your wrists so that he could gently cup your face in his hands, admiring your features and how fucking desperate you were, how he could so easily see that need in your eyes as he nodded. "I'm so sorry for getting jealous..."

"I like it," you whispered. "You know that."

"I'm not being too rough with you, am I?" He frowned a little, tilting his head to the side.

You shook your head, daring to break free of his grip so that you could gently kiss him again, just one more kiss. "No, you're not. It's okay... kiss me like that again, though, please?"

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it.

#mlem writes #obi wan kenobi fanfic #obi wan star wars #obi wan fic #obi wan #obi wan kenobi #obi wan x y/n #obi wan x yn #obi wan x you #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi fic #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi fanfiction #ewan mcgregor x you #ewan mcgregor imagine #ewan mcgregor fanfiction #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewan mcgregor

[demigoddessqueens]

You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you

#tvedit #filmedit #disney #star wars #star wars x reader #anakin skywalker #obi wan x y/n #obi wan x you #obi wan x reader #anakin x fem reader #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin x y/n #hayden christensen #ewan mcgregor #obi wan kenobi #kenobi show #do not tag as obi*in!! #revenge of the sith #darth vader #darth vader x reader #the clone wars #star wars rebels #do not tag as obi x a*akin #star wars prequels #if I see obi*in in the url I’m blocking #sith lord #Jedi #don’t even ship em irl either that’s weird nasty AF #anidala anakin x padme

[murdockussy]

Could you do an enemies to lovers one shot where obi has been in love with the reader for a while but she doesn’t know it?

And I wouldn’t mind some spice please hehe

AHHHH this request is perfect!! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write this one up, but I hope you enjoy reading it!!

(I am open to taking any requests, head to my masterlist to read more about it :))

Room 24

Angsty, smutty lil Obi Wan Kenobi x Reader enemies to lovers one shot where he fell for the reader first!

Warnings: a little arguing here and there, but we love a jealous Kenobi moment

Words: 8,900ish

If you could gather every emotion you felt towards Obi Wan Kenobi, you were almost certain you’d be left with a burning heap of seething hot hatred – almost. 

Ever since your first interaction all those years ago, you - young and naïve, heart hammering in your chest as were introduced to your peers inside the Jedi Temple for the first time, and him – a lean short haired boy with platted stand of hair falling down his neck, disapproving stare watching your ever move as you were welcomed into the group of young Jedi’s– you knew that Obi Wan Kenobi was going to be anything but your friend. 

The more time you spent around him, the more you were able to register his arrogance. How he always stuck to his allegiance, leaving little room for mistakes. Before you, he was always top of the class, earning the position of one of the most skilled and wise Jedi’s for his age, but all that changed the day you arrived on Coruscant.  

Although you were slightly younger than your peers and were considerably inexperienced, you refused to let that stop you, you using your gifted skills to quickly climb to the top, soaring above those who’d been in the same field as you for far longer than you have.  

And that angered Obi Wan to no extent. The same Council members who once showered him with endless praise, bringing him alongside missions that were far out of the league of his peers, were now giving you – someone who just less than a year prior had no knowledge of what a Jedi even was – the same treatment. 

He couldn’t understand how you did it, and for that his hatred towards you grew. Sure, you were skilled, you could yield a lightsaber well, your aim with blasters was precise, and your bond with the force was as strong as his, but how you were able to achieve his level of expertise in the time you’d been there left him baffled.  

As the years passed, you grew to know each other quite well – you know what they say, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. You’d keep a close eye on him during missions, watching the muscles on his arms flex as he’d wave the glowing saber in defense, face stern and focused, and in return, he’d do the same, studying the patterns of your fighting style, the way your chest heaved as the loose strands of hair would cascade onto your face with each spin and duck.  

You both unraveled each other's perks and quirks and seen one another in the best and worst of times, yet no matter how well one of you knew the other, the hatred was always there, evident and unwavering, you both making it known to each other that hate was the only emotion you held for one another – nothing else. 

And it always remained that way... that was until Obi Wan came to the realisation that maybe his feelings were a masquerade for something much deeper 

On a night when the moons shone brightly above the Jedi Temple when half of the Council returned from an off-planet meeting, Obi Wans Padawan Anakin was solemnly waiting for his Master's return in their shared apartment when a sudden uproar caught his attention. He traced the shouting to the entrance of the room, opening the door of their living quarters to find his Master and yourself standing opposite one another, an angered expression mirrored on both of your faces. 

“... If you hadn’t been so selfish, I could’ve taken him out with ease” you shouted, one hand resting on your hip while the other poked at Kenobi’s chest. 

“With ease? I’m starting to believe your delusions have reached new heights, because from my memory, they had you tied up to a post, wi-” 

“But I got out! Freed myself! Something you would’ve seen if you weren’t so preoccupied trying to be the hero – again!” 

“There’s a difference between trying to be a hero, and actually being one, something you wouldn’t kno-” 

As amused as he was, Anakin stepped out of the doorway, yourself and Obi Wan falling silent once the Padawan made his presence known. Greeting yourself and his Master, he leant against the wall beside you both with a playful grin. 

“If you wish to continue, I'd suggest taking this indoors. People do want to get some sleep at night, believe it or not” 

Just as Obi Wan began to scold his Padawan, you interrupted, your feet dragging you backwards slowly as you spoke, “No need. It’s pointless trying to get through to him anyway. Goodnight, Anakin” 

Pushing past the young boy beside him, Obi Wan walked through the entrance of his home, his blood boiling as he stormed towards the loungeroom, seating himself on the couch as his head fell into the palms of his hands. 

Anakin wasn’t far behind, him resting on the arm of the opposite couch from the one Obi Wan was seated on, the amusement evident in his voice as he broke the silence. 

“Well... that was interesting” 

“Not now Anakin!” 

“Hey, I haven’t done anything wrong, Master. If anything, you should be thanking me. It really was quite the disturbance you both were causing out the-” 

“I said not now! I’ve had enough of this for tonight” 

“She really knows how to get under your skin, doesn’t she? I’m starting to think she’s worse than me” 

“Anakin” Obi Wan warned, his head lifting from his hands to stare at the boy before him. 

“You’re always together. Always arguing. And you both get so riled up with one another. It’s as if you’re... like you’re couple that’s been in a marriage for all your life” 

“I’m being quite serious Anakin, if you don-” 

“It seems as if you're so disapproving you are of her. Which is strange because she’s good at what she does. She’s a great Jedi. Maybe you’re just jealous of her-” 

“Anakin, that’s en-” 

“Or maybe you’re in love with her, that could be it too” Anakin joked, a snort of laughter escaping his lungs. 

Without saying another word, Obi Wan rose from his seat, brushing past the boy who had broken out in a fit of laughter, breathy apologies falling from his lips as he watched his Master disappear into his bedroom, where he wouldn’t appear from until the next morning. 

Yet that night, Obi Wan barely got a wink of sleep, his heart hammering endlessly in his chest as Anakin's words combined with ghostly images of you swirled around his thoughts, the realisation of the truth within Anakin's lighthearted words haunting him till the sun rose the next day.  

All this time Obi Wan was wrong. His deep-rooted obsession with you, his need to watch you whenever you’re within his vision, his desire to hear the rise of your voice when he pushes your buttons - he buttons only he knew how to push – wasn’t from a place of hatred. No, it was from a place of love. All this time he’d loved someone he swore to be his own personal enemy. 

Yet, he refused to cave into his emotions. Keeping the guarded front of hatred up whenever you were near.  

He repeatedly told himself it was because loving someone was against the Jedi code. That if he followed the true desires of his heart, everything he worked so hard for would be torn from him instantly. He’d have no purpose, no guidance, no home. And for that, resenting you somehow became easier, because he wouldn’t allow you to take that all away from him. But deep down, in a place he struggled to keep hidden, he was terrified of your true emotions, that if you were to reveal his true desire for you, you’d reject him, using his one weakness – his emotions for you - against him.  

And for that, he kept up the false front, his behavior towards you unwavering, because hating you was far easier than loving you.  

However, sometimes he didn’t have to continuously remind himself of that fact, Anakin's suggestion of you getting under his skin an obvious truth as he lost sight of you, his vision darting in each direction as he spun himself in a full 360 in the middle of the busy pathway. 

Obi Wan and yourself were currently paired together on an assignment, one that could've been easily palmed off to Kenobi and his Padawan if it wasn’t for the younger boy being in recovery after having himself injured on their last mission. 

The goal for the assignment was simple. There had been rumors floating around the temple of an underground club storing illegal weapons, which itself wouldn’t be an issue because as far as you were aware, half the clubs on Coruscant held their own illegal weapons, but once word spread that a group of bounty hunters were seeking to purchase the weapons, the Council decided to step in, hence yourself and Obi Wan being sent on the mission.  

And it seemed simple. Disguise yourself as anything other than a pair of Jedi, go into the club, seek out the location of the stored weaponry, alert the Counsil of its whereabouts, and leave. Easy. The entire assignment could be finished in under an hour. Yet the moment you dressed yourself in the disguised outfit, you slipping into the thin fabric of the floor length black dress, you decided you wanted to make the most of the night out, allowing yourself to have a bit more fun than the Council would’ve intended you on having. 

Obi Wan spun himself to the brink of dizziness when he finally paused, his eyes landing on your open back dress facing away from him as you stood at the entrance of a stall, you passing the man a handful of credits in exchange for the wide scarf. 

Groaning in annoyance, Obi Wan weaved his way through the crowded night market, him overhearing your thanks to the shop keep as he finally reached you, you turning to face him right as he approached you. 

“A scarf?” he questioned, his eyes lingering on your face as he took in your amused expression. 

“I needed it” you replied, pushing past his tense frame as you began walking into the crowd once more. He watched as you slid the fabric across your arms, the width of it draping down your spine covering majority of your back, leaving a small slither of your skin exposed at the base of your dress, his eyes locked onto your flesh as you wandered off before it clicked that you were wandering off, him quickly jogging to catch up with you. 

“You know” he huffed, “we do have an assignment to complete” 

“And tell me, do we have a specific time frame required to complete this mission?” 

“...No, however it wou-” 

“No time frame means no need to rush” you said with raised eyebrows as you turned to look at Obi Wan, his eyes squinting as he faced forwards. 

“I think it would be rather beneficial to get this over and done with” 

“Why? Have you got somewhere better to be, Kenobi?” 

“Well, no. But I'd pref-” 

“Then we can take as long as we need. Besides, how often is it that we get to leisure like this out of the Temple? Well, I can only speak on my own behalf. I don’t care for whatever slacking off you do in your free time” 

“I do not ‘slack off’. Unlike some people, I take my role seriously” 

“If I didn’t take my role seriously, they wouldn’t have chosen me to be on this assignment, would’ve they?” 

“Only because Anakin's not here” Obi Wan mumbled under his breath just loud enough for you to hear, causing an angry warmth beneath your skin to flare up, your face snapping to meet the man beside yours once more. 

“And why isn’t your Padawan here? Maybe if his Master knew know how to provide adequate guidance, he wouldn’t have to resort to the medical bay once a week!” 

Obi Wan ignored your verbal jab, his eyes glancing at the rows of stalls as you both continued through the market, triumph slowly building inside you at his lack of a comeback until he redirected his walk to cut directly in front of you, his words a whisper as he passed your frame. 

“Say’s the Jedi without their own Padawan” 

“Hey!” you called, his feet quickening due to the clearing of the crowds as he headed towards the markets exit. Fastening your own pace, you caught up with him, prepared to argue back to his statement before he hushed you, his movements coming to a halt. 

“That's our destination. Master Yoda believes the weapons are stored on-” 

“The first or second floor beneath the club. I know. Might I remind you, I'm also on the Council” you stated, your shoulder bumping his as you passed him and began to draw closer to the entrance of the building when you felt a firm grasp around your wrist, stopping you from any further movements. 

“Don’t you... Wouldn’t it be best to think of a plan before walking in there?” 

“We already have a plan” You sighed in annoyance, you now facing him while his fingers remained wrapped around your skin. 

“But what if were questioned?” 

“We won’t be” 

“We need to be on the same page if they questio-” 

“We won’t be” 

“If we get caught, and you begin some-” 

“Kenobi! I’m telling you we will not be caught! Can you just trust me for once?!” 

His eyes widened in shock, his raised eyebrows furrowing after a moment's silence, a burst of air leaving his nostrils as he did a firm nod, his hand falling from yours as he crossed his arms across his chest. 

 “Fine... But if a single thing goes south-” he started, you huffing as you turned your back to him and marched towards the entrance of the club, Obi Wan following you behind as you neared the tinted glass doors reflecting the neon flashing signs of the streets above. 

Approaching the entrance, the two doors slide open, revealing the dim lights and bassy instrumental echoing within the club. You scanned the room as you entered it, your nose scrunching at the faded colored curtains draping across each wall and the clouds of thin smoke wafting across the roof, your eyes falling on the grim looking creature perched behind the reception desk.  

You slowed your pace until Obi Wan was standing beside you when you suddenly slid your arm beneath his, your arms interlocked drawing you closer to one another as you inched towards the reception desk. You could feel his confused gaze burning into the side of your face, but you ignored it, your face remaining emotionless as you approached the creature at the desk. 

“Reservation for 4-16" you spoke clearly, Obi Wans eyes now bouncing between yours and the creatures. 

“Name?” the being mumbled, his hands gliding across the vibrant hologram raised on the surface of the desk. 

“Waters” you replied, your voice stern as you watched his fingers dance across the glitchy lights, him tapping a few times before humming in approval, his bulging eyes returning to yours as he spoke. 

“You’re cleared. Pleasure to have you back, Miss Waters” 

Without looking back, you directed Obi Wan into the club, the two of you heading towards the row of ceiling high booth without saying a word. Unlinking your arm from his, you shimmied yourself into the booth, Obi Wan following behind you, seating himself a foot away from you. 

“Care to explain?” 

“I told you to trust me” you said unphased as you flattered out the fabric across your stomach. 

“Who is Miss Waters?” he pushed, him continuing to glare at you, you picking up on the sense that he wouldn't drop this topic without answers. 

“A fake name, clearly” you answered shortly, your eyes looking anywhere besides the man next to you who was growing more agitated by the minute, you jumping in your seat at the sudden sensation of his hand on your knee. 

“This is a shared mission! I’m required to know what you’re doing, so if need be, I can be in on whatever this is as well” 

Your head snapped to face him, your voice low yet firm as you quickly replied. 

“For the last time, I told you to trust me! And if you don’t, there’s no use for you being here. You know where the door is, or do you need help finding it?” 

Before he had the chance to reply, both of your heads turned to face the slim figure that was approaching your booth with a friendly smile, you forcing your cheeks to rise as you mirrored their joyous emotion. 

“Miss Waters, it’s been quite some time! How has life been treating you?” 

“Same old, you know how it is. And you?” 

“Busy. But it’s good to see a familiar face” he said, bending slightly to place a tray of assorted fruits and four glasses of a smokey green liquid on the table. 

“Oh... Grolo, this really isn’t necessary for tonight” 

“Nonsense, it’s on the house” Grolo replied before stepping backwards, his hands crossing as he nodded while speaking, “Room 24 is prepared to your liking for when you’re ready. You two enjoy your evening” 

You waited until Grolo disappeared from your eyesight before you raised your palms to your face, your heart beginning to beat slightly quicker from the conversation, you truly wanting to remain unexposed from the man beside you. 

“So... Familiar face, huh?” 

“Kenobi” you warned, you shielding your eyes from the world around you with your palms, Obi Wans own palm still resting on your knee. 

“And what’s this ‘room 24’?” 

“None of your business, that’s what it is” 

“But it will be... once the Council is notified about the cheat that is lying under their noses” 

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, a sudden anger sparking inside you as you dropped your hands, your body shifting to face the man beside you. 

“If you even think about speaking a word of this to them, I'll shatter each glass on this table and force it down your throat!” 

Leaning back against the fabric of the booth, he brought one hand to his beard, scaping it slowly as he watched you, while the other slid an inch up your skin, unwavering from its position as he pushed, “Then confess whatever it is that you’re hiding about this place, what you’re hiding about yourself” 

You wanted to call him out on his bluff, wanted to believe that he wouldn’t speak a word of what he’s already witnessed to the Council – wanted to trust him – yet you knew you couldn’t, you fully aware of his devotion to his job. So you leaned forward, grabbing two of the four drinks in front of you and bringing them to your lips, you shotting one after another like the liquid had no burning aftertaste, you in desperate need of any confidence boost for what you’re about to tell the man you resented the most. 

“Fuck. Fine. This...” you started, pausing momentarily with hesitation, Obi Wans eyes lingering on your face as you sighed, “This all began quite some time ago now.”, 

“Master Yoda caught word of a potential bounty passing though this area of Coruscant every few nights. He knew it was too risky himself to check the area out, so he sent me”, 

“His intentions were to get any information on the man. If the potential bounty belonged to a gang, if he had a following, who he was involved with. I came here, unsure if the bounty would even step foot in this place, with no indication on how to secure the information Yoda wanted” 

“And the mission was successful?” Kenobi asked, his hand still raking through the hairs on his chin. 

You nodded, swallowing the nerves building inside your tightening throat from what you were confessing for the first time. 

“Call it intuition, or even the Force, but he ended up coming here. I sparked a conversation, and he fell right into my trap. I knew it was too risky to use any of my... Force abilities. So I tried something else, and it worked after some time. He told me what I needed to know, and I reported it all-” 

“What was it?” 

“What was what?” 

“Your method. Possibly spiking of his drink? I wouldn’t put that past you-” 

“Seduction, actually” you spat, your features lifting with your matter-of-fact tone while his jumped in shock, a small cough escaping his mouth as he suddenly leaned forward, the hand that was resting on your leg now shooting across the table to grab ahold of one of the remaining drinks. 

“Seeing how successful it was” you continued, a half smiling tugging at your lips from the surprise your statement caused, “I decided to come back and try it again on a different occasion. And that’s how it started. The more I came here, the more potential threats would walk through those doors – Grolo’s bar being sort of a... hot spot, I guess, for people who want to remain unseen. I’d buy each one a drink here and there, enough for them to lose track of what they’re saying, sweet talk them the way a man like them would want to be spoken to, and suddenly the information I'd want would pour out of them. Easily” 

“But why do it if it wasn’t necessary?” 

“Because it kept me one step ahead. I attained information no other Council member had. Their confessions helped me out on multiple missions. I know who's connected to who, and who to avoid, where these people stay, what threats they pose. Besides, you and I both know how slowly the Council can move at times. I’ve just pushed myself to have a head start” 

“So you’d... seduce these... men into giving you information, out of your own will?” 

“Yes, Kenobi. I did” you said, your eyes switching from his face to the single drink remaining, you leaning forwards to grab it, your pulse jumping as you pretending to ignore the way Obi Wans eyes watched your moving frame, “But nothing I've done is against the Jedi code, nor is it a crime” 

“Not yet. You’re yet to inform me about this ‘room 24’” 

You remained silent as you rested back into the seat, you bringing the drink to your lips as your eyes lingered on Obi Wans, your stomach beginning to churn at the thought of you sharing your deepest secret to the man you’d wish to keep your secret from most. 

“Or you can tell the rest of the Council themselves, I'm sure they’d love to know” he said, his tone flat as he slowly began shuffling himself out of the booth, you immediately snapping your hand to wrap around his forearm stopping him in his tracks. 

“Don’t! Just... Believe me, Obi Wan, it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be” 

“And why should I have faith in your words? You can’t even tell me what is that you’re hiding, how can I trust that!” 

“Okay... Just sit, please” 

With a small huff, he returned to his previous position, spinning himself around to face the bar behind him, arm waving towards the empty tray on the table before adjusting himself to face you once more, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he did so. 

“If you’re going to make me stay, I might as well make it worth my while” he said coolly as one of the bartenders approached the booth with a full tray of drinks, swiftly placing it on the table, replacing the now empty one. He reached forward, his body barely lifting from the back of the seat as he grabbed the glass, his eyes looking deeply into yours as he took a sip causing the pits of your stomach to ignite with warmth. “Now finish the story, or I'm leaving. Don’t make me regret this decision” he said, following with your name at the end of the sentence. 

You wanted to push him, tease him about how precious the Council was to him, but you bit your tongue as you drowned the rest of your drink fully knowing there was no way out of the hole you unwillingly dug yourself in.  

Here goes nothing. 

“I was here every few weeks, doing the same routine. But... one night, things sort of changed. This scoundrel from Coruscant's south, no matter how hard I pushed, he gave no information on what I wanted to know. At first, I was in control, but the more we consumed, the more I... drifted from my purpose. Things started to take a turn, and... well, one thing led to another, and we... you know. I didn’t end up getting the information I wanted out of him, so when I came back, I tried again with someone who had connections to the scoundrel, but I was met with the same fate. After that, my purpose for coming to this side of town had a... different meaning” 

As the words left your lips, Obi Wans entire demeaner shifted, his relaxed composure becoming stiff, his jaw locked with tension as his eyes glared at you, a pit of rage boiling within him at your confession. Yet he kept himself together, trying to attain his burning jealousy as you continued your story. 

“Grolo, whenever I'd return, he’d allow me to stay in a room here with these... people. Room 24. He had trust in me, because I'd brought in good revenue for him with all my previous assignments, and he refused each man from leaving the next morning without covering the bill for the night's stay. We build sort of an understanding, a bond – myself and Grolo. I supplied him with customers, he supplied me with a free room” 

Concluding your confession, you released the deep breath you didn’t know you were holding back, you shotting the remainder of your drink before speaking once more, “That's all it is, Obi Wan. I’m not a criminal, or a cheat to the Council, so you can drop the need you so desperately have to inform the Council of any of this” 

You both sat in a momentary silence, your heart hammering in your chest as you waited for any sort of response from Kenobi, his silence out of character. Yet your pulse was met with a match, Obi Wan feeling as though his own heart was bound to leap out of his chest any moment due to the spiraling anger within him. Images began to play in his mind of the story you shared, flashes of your naked frame entangled with another - someone who wasn’t him - blinding his vision entirely, him taking no note of the rattling glass in his hand until the soft call of his named tore him from his thoughts. 

“... Obi Wan?” you mumbled, your hand reaching out towards him, your fingers barely grazing his skin before he pulled back, his voice a sharp slice as he spat his words. 

“You’re unbelievable!” 

“I’m sorry?” you questioned, your already hammering heart going into overdrive from his outburst. 

“Are you in some state of delusion? You’d be foolish to believe any of this is okay” 

"What are you... I told you I've done noth-” 

“There's something in this lifestyle you’re hiding amongst that you truly desire. These relations, you want them more than you’re allowing yourself to believe. You’ve gone against me-… Against the Jedi Code. I thought you were smarter than this, but clearly, I was wrong about you” 

Absorbing his belittlement, your shock was quickly switched to anger, you hurt that he was speaking to you this way after you opened to him for the first time about something nobody else knew, something that you would’ve never had spoken on if it wasn’t for his threats in the first place. 

“Don’t try and act as though you’re innocent, Obi Wan, like you’ve never had some fun before. We all remember whatever it was that happened between yourself and Dutchess Satine!” The Dutchess’s name on your tongue left a sour after taste, a quick flash of memories passing through your mind as you spoke, images of Obi Wan watching the woman fondly, her arm entwined with his and they walked together, the memory so bitter in your mind that it only added fuel to your already wild flame. 

“What you’re doing is incomparable to that. It was a moment of clouded judgement, of weakness. It was a half-whited act, but nowhere near as close to what you’ve been doing” 

“My business is different!” The alcohol you’d consumed began to take full effect, you unaware of just how loud you were both shouting at one another until you noticed the turning of heads surrounding the booth, various eyes falling on yourself and Obi Wan. 

“And how is that?!” 

“You formed an attachment, I didn’t! You got entangled with emotions, I'm only after momentary fulfillment!” 

“You are surely blinded! This is outrag-” 

You weren’t sure what pushed you over the edge – possibly the heat flushed against your cheeks or the tears beginning to well behind your eyes - but you finally got fed up with the ongoing argument, you swiftly rising from the seat, your body swaying slightly as you shuffled yourself towards the exit of the booth.  

Before you had the chance to walk off, you felt a forceful grip suddenly wrap around your wrist, his soft plea for you to stop barely audible as you cut him off immediately, snatching your arm from his as you spat back, “Don’t!” 

Shocked expressions were blurred around you as you stormed off, the effort of not allowing your hot tears to spill over blocking out the calling pleas of your name from behind you. You repeatedly attempted deep breaths as you pushed your way around passing creatures, your shaky hands a direct result of the alcohol and adrenaline cocktail flowing through your bloodstream. 

Muscle memory navigated you through the various hallways leading you towards the back rooms, your fingers dancing along the keypad of the door you knew too well, a small flash of green blinking before the door unlocked, you pushing the steel frame open. Immediately you were welcomed with dim lighting, the smell of vanilla wafting through your nose as you waved your hands towards your face, your palms cuffing your eyes as you exhaled sharply. 

For a few quiet moments, you stayed in that position, the fire inside you putting up a continuous fight towards your attempt of calming yourself, you completely unaware of the presence that had joined you in the room until you heard the thunder of the steel door forcefully closing behind you causing you to rapidly twirl in shock, your hands ripping from your eyes as they connected with the blue eyes glairing back at you. 

You watched each other in silence, the anger within you sparking up at the sight of him, your previous attempts at becoming calmer thrown out the window within seconds. As his eyes scanned your frame, his somewhat stiff stance loosened, his eyes softening as he absorbed your upset state. His mouth opened to speak, but before he had the chance to mutter a single syllable, your words silenced his, the sentences freely falling from your lips. 

“When all this began, for the first time in my life, I felt as if I was lifted from any burden. Weightless from all responsibilities. No rules, no restrictions, no Council or Jedis. Do you know how freeing that felt? To be nothing but a girl having some fun with a stranger at a bar? It was like being able to breathe again for the first time!” 

He listened to each word you spoke, his mouth remaining shut as he stepped towards you, you moving yourself in the opposite direction as he did so. 

“It was harmless fun Kenobi! Believe it or not, I really don’t care, but that’s all it was! And if you’re so opposed by it, go ahead and tell the Council!!” 

“No” he mumbled flatly, his eyes never leaving yours as his head shook, his body moving another step closer to yours. 

“Why not?!” you shouted, the back of your knees finally hitting the edge of the bed as you backed away from his approaching body, “Maybe they’ll believe you, banish me from the temple. You’ll be able to reign free, the great General Kenobi at the peak of his game!” 

“No” he repeated, this time louder as he began to close in on you, a warm puddle forming in the pit of your stomach as you noticed a glimmer of crazy in his eyes that you’d never seen before. 

“Thats what you’ve strived for all these years, isn’t it? The moment I stepped foot in that temple you wanted me out of there! Nows your chance! I know this is what you want to do, so just do it!” 

Within the blink of an eye, his arms extended in front of him, his warm palms landing on your waist as he pulled you towards him, your chest slamming into his, your breath knocked from your lungs at the contact. His head tilted down to meet yours, one arm removing itself from your waist only to place itself on your chin, his fingers pinching your skin as he directed your head to face his. 

“You have no idea what I want!” 

The small blow of his breath drifted across your open lips, the sensation sending a wave of tingles down your spine, a pool of warmth forming between your weekend legs as his angered eyes peered into your own. 

“You think having you removed from the council is what I desire? To not have you within reach, have you out of my eyesight for even a single second? I would rather take a blade to the skull than to have you out of my life, leaving me miserable while you’re out there being fulfilled by some low life stranger who doesn’t even know your real name” 

As the last sentence left his lips, he pulled your body as close as possible, your heart fluttering as you breathily gasped, his following words causing you to almost fall to your knees as he whispered them onto your flushed skin, “They could never do what needs to be done with you. You don’t even know what real fulfillment is” 

Lifting your head, his fingers still attached to your skin, you inched your face towards him, you pausing at the soft touch of his lips brushing yours, your words vibrating the curve of his bottom lip as you whispered, “...Then why don’t you show me?” 

The breath was knocked from your lungs once more as your frame was suddenly pushed backwards, you collapsing onto the mattress with force, Obi Wans body close behind you as he softly landed on top of you. Leaving no time to waste, he spread his knees to rest on the outsides of your thighs, his hands grabbing at your waist once more as he shuffled you towards the top of the mattress, your body effortlessly tossed towards the soft pillows.  

Barely able to settle from his rapid moving of your body, he crawled his way back on top of you, his lips immediately connecting with the base of your jaw causing an audible sigh to clear from your lungs. 

“You have no idea...” he started, each word interrupted by a sloppy kiss as he worked his way down your neck, “how deeply I've wanted... how deeply I've... needed you” 

His confession made your mind swirl, your hands instinctively gripping at his clothing, trembling fingers unbuttoning and tugging the fabric away from his torso as he roughly worked his mouth across your skin. With each suck and nip, your breaths drew deeper which only seemed to encourage him more. 

“For countless years... my every waking moment” he breathed, his hips connecting to meet with yours, you noticing the stiffness between his legs for the first time causing you to groan, “... has been consumed with thoughts of you” 

His upper body now rid of clothes, you suddenly felt extremely warm in your own clothing, your head tossing to the side as you struggled to free your arms from the twisted scarf clinging to them. Noticing your movements, Obi Wan withdrew himself from your neck, his movements twice as fast as he assisted in removing your scarf, him balling the item up and tossing it behind him, you taking the small moment to focus on his lips, the skin dark and plump, the wetness glazed across the his lips giving you the urge to connect your own with his. 

Returning to face you, his eyes caught sight of your gaze, his heart skipping a beat when you made contact with him. Your flushed cheeks and darked pupils almost sent him into a complete frenzy, but the small pull of your soft smile drew him back into reality, him needing to clear any doubts before continuing, his one arm keeping him hovered above you while the other stroked a strand of hair from your cheek. 

“If... if this isn’t what you want, we can st-” 

Unable to wait a moment longer, you snaked your arms around his neck, drawing him into you as you pushed your lips onto his. The moment you made contact, pure euphoria spread itself through each nerve in Obi Wans body, him kissing you back twice as hard as his heart leaped in his chest. Finally, he thought. 

You pulled back slightly, your attempt to speak cut short as Obi Wan eagerly chased your lips, him deepening the kiss the moment his skin met yours, not wanting to spend another second away from your lips.  

You allowed him to take you in, his lips dancing along with yours as his hips began to slowly grind onto you, your soft sigh tumbling into his mouth causing him to kiss you deeper. 

“Obi” you mumbled, him humming in reply, completely engulfed by bliss, his lips never leaving yours.  

“Obi Wan” you repeated, this time louder as you pulled away from him with a small laugh. 

As much as you were enjoying the sensation of his lips on yours, the ever-growing pulse between your legs was growing stronger with every passing moment, and you were on the edge of becoming desperate.  

“What is it?” Kenobi questioned, his eyes clouding with doubt as he scanned your face, your delicate hand now combing back his long hair welcoming him with immediate reassurance. 

“I need you...” Your simple worlds caused the man to completely crumble, the sentence one he’d dreamt of for countless years, certain he’d never have the pleasure of being on the receiving end when you said it. Yet there he was, laying on top of the woman he loved, the worlds a looping constant in his mind as he watched you. “... Please” 

As if sprung back to life from the dead, he didn’t want to wait a single moment longer, his hands frantic as they reached around to the back of your neck, unfastening your dress and peeling the fabric from your upper body and down to your hips, you shuffling on the mattress, assisting him in any way you could. Pulling the material down your legs, he used one hand to toss it behind him, the other tugging the shoes from your feet before he did the same to himself, ridding him of his pants and footwear before returning his attention to you. 

Stoll hovering above you, he spends a small moment ogling at your naked torso, the way your sprawled hair and tinted cheeks complemented your exposed skin. He was certain he was in the presence of an angel, wishing he could freeze the sight of you before him and stare at it for eternity, yet the harness between his legs prevented him from doing otherwise, him lowering himself to your chest. 

His hands roamed freely across your skin, the sensation of his drifting fingers leaving your hairs standing on edge as his mouth now worked itself across your shoulder blades, each hot kiss leaving a trail of wetness behind. 

Even though you had no intention of staying quiet, small sighs and groans fell freely into the air, each one growing louder as Obi Wan worked his way down your body, him coming to a standstill as his mouth reached your breast. 

His mouth occupied with one, his hand now toying with the other, your breathing grew heavier in pleasure, only spiraling the frenzy that burned inside Obi Wan.  

“Oh my... oh my god” you breathed, your hands shifting between the back of his shoulder blades and the strands of his hair. 

“You’re so beautiful” he mumbled dreamily, his mouth and hands switching positions as he worked himself across to your right breast, his hand now kneading your left. 

Although you were coursing with pleasure, you still needed more, you growing impatient with his slow teasing.  

“Obi Wan, I...” 

“Yes, my darling?” 

“I need more” 

“More?” he teased, his head lifting from your chest and snaking its way to your neck, him now trailing a row of small pecks to your ear, pausing to whisper, “Tell me what you want” 

“Your hands. Please, Obi” 

An exhale of laughter blew into your ear, Obi Wans mouth finding your own as his hand snaked its way down your body, his hand slightly trembling as it reached the lining of your underwear. He toyed with the edge of the fabric, your lips mashing with his as your hips lifted in reflex to the touch, pushing him to continue. 

As his fingers dug beneath the fabric, you released a rumbly moan into his mouth, the sound causing him to eagerly press further, the pads of his fingers collecting wetness as he explored. Your sounds of pleasure grew more rapidly as his fingers moved, him finding your bundle of nerves with ease causing you to cry out and press up onto his hand, a smirk forming on his face as you did so. 

Both your palms now held his cheeks, keeping his lips pressed against yours as his hand worked on your below, a rhythm forming in his movements causing a buildup to form within you, a pressure initiating in your core.  

Keeping his thumb on your bud, his index and middle finger explored lower, pausing at your opening.  

“Is this what you desire?” he asked between kisses, his voice low and rough. You nodded in agreement, your eyes shut in bliss as his thumb continued its movements. 

“You words. I need your words” 

“Yes!” you cried desperately into his mouth, a sigh leaving both of your lips as his fingers entered you.  

His movements started slow, him taking in each new feeling as his fingers slowly worked in and out, but it wasn’t until he felt the connection of your hip meeting his hands that he allowed himself to speed up, your continuous moans on his lips reassurance that you were enjoying yourself. It wasn’t long before the tension within you began rapidly building to new heights, the two of you breathing deeply into one another. 

“Obi...” you moaned, your mouth detaching from him, bottom lip falling slack as your skin began to tingle with pleasure, “I’m... I'm close” 

His movements stayed steady, your hands beginning to shake as you drew closer to your release until everything suddenly stopped, his fingers inside you now a ghostly presence as he removed his hands from beneath your underwear, bringing them to his own, him pulling the fabric down as you gaped at him in disbelief of what he’d just done. 

“Why did you st-”  

Your questioning was interrupted with a firm, sloppy kiss, you jumping at the return of his hands as they fell on the side of your leg, grabbing the fabric of the only remaining piece of clothing on your body before tugging them down your thighs. 

“I need to feel you, now” he said as he leant back on his knees, readjusting to both of you around so that his legs were between yours, your legs bent and thighs spread as he lowered himself, his body straight as he hovered above you once more. His free hand grabbed his shaft, lining it up with your core, his eyes peering up at you as he did so. 

“Are you s-” 

“Obi” you groaned in annoyance, your body still tingling from his edging just before. 

“I need you to be sure” he said back with a competitive tone, yet the small smile on his face revealed anything but anger. 

“I want you Obi Wan. Right now. Please” 

With your green light, he thrusted his hip towards you, your entrance welcoming his tip as he lowered himself into you, the sounds leaving both of your mouths a cocktail of pure pleasure. He moved slowly, wanting to prevent causing you any discomfort but also needing to savor the feeling. This really is heaven, he thought. 

Dragging himself in and out, he refused to pick up his pace until you granted him to do so, a wave of excitement spreading through him as your hips began to meet his. He entered you with more force, hip colliding with yours as he rocked into you, causing you to cry out in satisfaction. 

“Faster” you mumbled, your head falling sideways as he began to move more vigorously. 

“What was that?” he teased, pretending to not hear your words. 

“Please, faster, Obi Wan!” you cried. 

His speed doubled as he worked into you, both of your bodies rocking in sync as he lowered his mouth to your neck, his lingering pecks growing sloppier as he the time passed, vocal groans and heavy puffs rumbling against your now tender skin. 

The familiar building began to form within the pits of your stomach once more, your hands reaching out to claw at the exposed skin of Kenobi's back as you breathlessly moaned, “Fuck... You’re so good” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mmmh hmmm” you nodded, his lips snaking their way down to your chest once more before returning to your face, his forehead resting on yours as his wild eyes peered down into yours. 

“No other scum can please you the way I can” he groaned somewhat angrily, his lips pressing onto yours forcefully as his thrusting hardened causing a cry to crawl itself out from your throat, “Only I can... God, only I can have you like this. Tell me only I make you feel this good” 

“Obi Wan!” you called, your chest rising and falling rapidly as the ache in your core drew closer to release. 

“I said tell me!” he paused, his hand snaking its way down to your thigh, gripping the skin and hiking your leg up beside him causing his thrusts to fall deeper inside you. 

“It’s only you, Obi- Oh my... Only you make me feel this good!” 

“That’s right...” he cooed, placing a kiss to your swollen lips as his forehead returned to yours, his eyes lapping up the visual pleasure displaced across your face.  

Your cries both messy and loud, your hands began to shake once more as you were now on the edge of your release, Obi Wans own pent up tension a reflection of yours as he bucked into you. 

“I’m... I’m...” you stuttered, your hands frantic on his skin as his breath fanned your face, you unable to finish your sentence as his mouth returned to yours for a final time, his free hand gripping your skin tightly as you reached your peaks, you crying out inaudible appraisals as you came undone, your nails digging into Obi Wans flushed skin as he rocked into you, his release directly chasing yours, his loud moans echoing in your ears.  

You rode the wave of your highs together, his hips continuing to rock into yours as he emptied himself inside of you, his mind a haze of complete bliss as you held him, your rocky breaths across his skin sending shivers down his spine. 

You stayed like that for what you wished could be an eternity, basking in the euphoria that coursed through your veins as you both relaxed into one another, you gasping as Obi Wan removed himself from your warm walls before plummeting onto your frame, your skin to skin contact an immediate warming comfort.  

Catching your breaths, your hand raked the skin on his back, your palms soothing the red scratches you created just moments before as he delicately placed fluttery kisses on your already bruising collarbones. Neither of you had spoken a word, you both basking in the moment, absorbing the affections you were gifting to one another before Obi Wans head rose from your chest, his eyes slightly glassy as he drew in your attention. 

“As cathartic as that was... we do have an assignment to complete” he joked, the hair on his chin tickling the skin on your chest as it bounced with laughter, you tossing your head back with a groan before peeking down at him once more, his wide smile a reflection of your own. 

“I hate you, Kenobi” you teased, your hands snaking their way up through his hair, your fingers pausing to give a section of strands a slight tug as you spoke causing his smile to widen. 

“My darling, I hate you more than you’ll ever know” 

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi fanfic #obi wan fanfic #obi wan kenobi smut #obi wan smut #jealous obi wan kenobi #enemies to lovers #requests #requested #requests open #ewan mcgregor #star wars #star wars prequels

[scribble-dribble-writes]

You can tell the animation department spent extra time on him 😍

#obi wan kenobi #ewan mcgregor #obi wan my beloved #general kenobi #master kenobi #kenobi series #kenobi tv #obi wan imagine #obi wan x reader #obiwan x fluff #obi wan fanfiction #star wars #obi wan x you #star wars fic #obi wan x y/n #starwarsedit #obiwanedit #swedit #allthingskenobi #ewanmcgregoredit

[meshlasolus]

House Of Memories MASTERLIST

Series Rating: T

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!Reader

Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi reflects on his years, his losses and his gains, his strengths and weaknesses, and in the middle of it all.... you.

If you're a fan, maybe consider buying me a coffee :)

If you'd like to see what the Padawan looks like, come here and here

PLAYLIST

PRINTED BOOK AVAILABLE

-

Episode 1 Episode 20 Episode 39

Episode 2 Episode 21 Episode 40

Episode 3 Episode 22 Epsiode 41

Episode 4 Episode 23 Episode 42

Episode 5 Episode 24 Episode 43

Episode 6 Episode 25 Episode 44

Episode 7. Episode 26 Episode 45

Episode 8 Episode 27 Episode 46

Episode 9 Episode 28 Episode 47

Episode 10 Episode 29 Episode 48

Episode 11 Episode 30 Episode 49

Episode 12 Episode 31 Episode 50

Episode 13. Episode 32. Episode 51

Episode 14 Episode 33. Episode 52

Episode 15 Episode 34. Episode 53

Episode 16 Episode 35 Episode 54

Episode 17 Episode 36. Episode 55

Episode 18 Episode 37 Episode 56

Episode 19 Episode 38 Episode 57

EXECUTE ORDER 66:

PART I PART II PART III FINALE

#obi wan x padawan #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan series #obi wan kenobi #ewan mcgregor #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #obi wan kenobi x padawan!reader #obi wan x you #obi wan angst

[jediavengers]

last one because i need to eat dinner

ani eating you out until you cum, so he collects all your cum in his mouth because he’s nasty like that, then grabs your jaw and forces your mouth open, spitting your cum and his saliva into your mouth. then he forces your jaw shut and pinches your nose because “you’re not breathing until you swallow all your mess”

(i may write my own rendition of this imma be honest it’s so MMMMMMMBARKBARK!!)

oh my fuck. i’m hugging you so hard right now this makes me weak in the knees.

SWALLOW YOUR MESS⋆₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

Warnings: 18+, spit play, spitting kink, oral (f receiving), established relationship

Pairing: Afab!reader x Anakin Skywalker

Tongue darting between your folds and fingers deep inside of you, Anakin maintains relentless eye contact. His pace is aggressive and nearly painful, but in a way it’s comforting.

The way he does anything he can to make you feel good makes your walls clench around his fingers, pulsing and trembling.

Your legs shake, attempting to close around his head. Anakin hooks his arms around your thighs, forcing you to stay put and to keep your legs nice and open.

The coil in your belly is unbearably tight, begging for relief as he continues to lap away at your drenched slit. Anakin’s lips wrap around your clit, harshly sucking at the sensitive nub.

A loud whine escapes your wet lips, your eyes fluttering shut and your back arching. You feel your juices release onto your lovers face, making you shakily gasp.

Anakin laps up all of your slick, not leaving one drop behind. After a moment, he pulls away and crawls up so you’re face to face. Using both of his hands, he pries open your jaw. Smirking, he used one hand to pinch your nose shut and the other to squeeze your lips open.

Your eyes flutter open at the act, just as he forcefully spits into your mouth. Without giving you time to process what he was doing, he continued to pinch your nose shut. After you realize what he’s done, he forces your jaw close.

“Swallow.” He commands, breathless from his act.

The taste of your cum and his spit mixed together makes your pussy pulse, sensitive from your orgasm and turned on by the filthiness of what he’s just done.

Your eyes are wide and you remain still, causing Anakin to furrow his eyebrows. Harshly gripping your chin, he forces you to look up at him, all the while still pinching your nose. “You are not breathing till you swallow your mess.”

His words immediately travel to your cunt, causing you to whine as you swallow.

“There we go, that’s it.” Anakin praises, smiling down at you like he hadn’t just committed the nastiest acts. As you swallow the last of it, he pulls his hands away, letting you breathe. You gasp, inhaling all the air that can fit into your exhausted lungs.

#anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin x reader #star wars #anakin x you #anakin fanfiction #hayden christensen #curators on tumblr #star wars anakin #sw anakin #hayden #christiensen #ewan mcgregor #star wars x reader #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction

[forever-rogue]

Sweetie idk if this is a request or not, but I NEED some Kenobi fluff after the last episode 😭😭 my heart can't take it. I just want obi wan to be happy, also anakin even if it's a bit too late. My heart is hurting but in a good way but also not

AN | Here you go, some soft fluff! Set sometime during the clone wars era, in which we pretend that everything ends happily ever after 🥰 Enjoy!

Pairing | Obi-Wan x Fem!Reader

Warnings | None

Word Count | 1.2k

Masterlist | Main, Star Wars

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

“There you are,” you found him sitting in the gardens, observing one of the many groves of flowers, intently studying them as if they held the secrets to the galaxy. He turned around at the sound of your voice, a smile tugging up the corner of his mouth, “I should have known that you’d be here and made it my first stop.”

“Hello there,” there was an amused lilt to his voice as he subtly pressed a kiss to your forehead. Unable to stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around him and gave him a hug, “I did not realize I was so missed.”

“Always,” you promised, ruffling his hair and brushing it out of his face, “and where is your young padawan? Hiding not-so-subtly away with the senator?”

“He thinks we do not know, but it is so blindingly obvious it’s a wonder half the galaxy does not know,” he huffed with a bit of laughter before picking one of the colorful blossoms and gently tucking it behind your ear, “perhaps he should learn a thing or two from us.”

“That is why you are master and he is padawan,” your whole face flushed with warmth at his sweet, intimate little gesture, “for now.”

“For now?”

“Of course,” you started to walk around the garden, reaching for his hand so he would join you, “he will not always be your padawan. Anakin is a lot of things, my love, but he is powerful. Perhaps one day he will rival you. I’d say he’s already following in your footsteps.”

“Oh?” he raised an eyebrow as you nodded, “just how so?”

“Taking on a rogue and fearless apprentice of his own, sneaking around with the woman he loves…tell me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, who does that sound like?” you grinned at him, proud of yourself for rendering him speechless for a few moments.

“Ahsoka is much less reckless than Anakin ever was-”

“I don’t know about that,” you both laughed, and a sense of ease and peace settled over you. You liked this - spending uninterrupted, quality time with him…it made you earn for it everyday. Especially when he had to leave for longer missions and all you could do was wait for him to return, “either way, he is much like you. He looks up to you, Obi-Wan, he is your brother. Perhaps we shouldn’t tease him too much and let him keep his little secret for now.”

“It won’t always have to be like this,” you’d sat down on one of the secluded benches and he followed suit, sitting as close to as humanly possible. Obi-Wan reached for your hand and laced your fingers together, studying them as though they were the most precious thing, “things will be different. We will have the family we want, a home we build…”

“I am not holding my breath in anticipation of the future, Obi-Wan,” you rested your head on his shoulder, exhaling softly, “I did not fall in love with you in the hopes of changing who you are, or having things be different. Even if it is always like this, I will not mind. I love you regardless, and nothing will change that.”

“You are more than I could have ever asked for,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head before closing his eyes and resting his head on top of yours, “I do not deserve you in the slightest.”

“You have a flair for the dramatic,” you laughed, and oh. That sound was one of his favorite things ever and made his whole body vibrate with happy energy, “it is not about deserving. And even if it was, you would be more than deserving of me. The heart is a fickle thing but we do not choose who we love, it simply happens. For what its worth, I am glad my heart picked you.”

“And just how am I supposed to top that?” 

“You’re not,” you pulled back from him, moving so you were facing him. You brought your hands to his face, gently stroking his cheek, causing him to lean into your touch, “it’s not a competition. Have I ever told you how handsome you are?”

“A few times here and there I do believe,” he pressed a kiss to your palm, “but I am not opposed to hearing it more often.”

“Oh dear,” you beamed at him, “I fear I must keep you humble before your ego grows too large. I’ll hold my tongue just in case.”

“I will just have to remind you of how beautiful you are, won’t I?” you could have melted right then and there at the sweet sound of his voice, “I have seen many things throughout this galaxy, but there is nothing that could ever match your beauty and heart.”

“Now you’re just flattering me.”

“Hardly,” he insisted, leaving in so his lips were barely brushing against yours, “I mean it, I would never lie to you, my darling.”

“I know,” you closed the miniscule remaining distance and gently kissed him, relishing in his touch and taste, “nor would I to you.” 

“One day we will not have to hide,” he was insistent, so sure of what he was saying that you believed him. One day things would be different, and it was all worth the wait. He was worth the wait, “this I promise you.” 

He reached for the delicate chain around your necklace, pulling out of your bodice to run his fingers over the ring that lived on it. He had given it to you some time ago, a promise of what was to come, a promise of the future. You hadn’t taken it off since. 

“I know, Obi-Wan,” you whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he kissed you again, a gentle need and urgency behind his touch as you easily melded into him. 

“Master!” the sound of Anakin’s voice caused you to jump and pull back from Obi-Wan as you gently pushed him to the other side of the bench. There was a huge knowing grin on his face as he stopped in front of the two of you. He had impeccable timing as always, “oh, no need to hide on my account. I already know!”

“What are you doing here, my padawan?”

“We’re needed in a meeting,” you could tell he was holding back an eye roll, “if I must suffer through it, so must you.”

Obi-Wan sighed deeply, running a hand over his tired features as you giggled at him, “go on, my love, best not get in trouble. I will see you later.”

“Alright,” he looked between the two of you before standing up. He stopped for a moment to kiss you one last time before starting to follow Anakin, “I will see you later.”

“I count on it,” you promised, “see you soon, my love.”

#obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi-wan kenobi x fem!reader #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x you

[miseries-mistress]

OUR LOVE | CHRISTIAN

Synopsis: Life was quiet. There was no blaring music from the Moulin Rouge or the streets alive with creativity and people bustling with excitement, but a part of Christain didn't mind the quiet anymore if it meant he got to indulge in a peaceful morning just with you. 

Warnings: gender-neutral reader, all fluff. W/C: 872

Notes: ahh, i just watched this movie, and i needed to write a blurb about him. i'm going to try and write more blurbs like this was ewan mcgregor's, less popular, of course, characters, because i am in love with him

em masterlist

The subtle trace of a fingertip against your bare arm was enough to arouse you from the sleep that had claimed you many hours ago. You peeked an eye open, carefully watching Christian as his finger drew circles across your flesh, enraptured by the softness and beauty of it. He appeared intently focused on each dip and curve of your skin, admiring every inch of it as he did last night. Finally, your eyes opened fully, but you remained quiet, content with watching Christian perform his ministrations. 

Your skin was still bare from the night before, the cotton sheets being the only thing to provide you any modesty. The warm blankets threatened to pull you under sleep's spell, the drowsiness finally catching up to you. You resisted the pull, blinking the sleep from your eyes. 

Your leg brushed against his, and Christian's eyes tore from your arm and raised to meet yours. You melted under the sheer admiration and love brimming in his irises as they moved across every intricate detail of your face. You were indeed the incarnation of beauty as the sunlight poured through the open window, encasing you in a heavenly warmth that made you seem more ethereal. 

He would say that he's sure to have memorized every detail of your face by how long he's admired it, but that's just not true. He would never fail to find a new scar or maybe a fresh freckle was strewn across your cheek. He would make sure to place his lips on any newly discovered markings he found, amazed by your ability to surprise him with something new, no matter how small. He liked the unknown you had brought to his previously drab life. 

His hand moved with a will of its own to your face, his hand cupping your supple skin laced with sleep. 

"Good morning, my love," the slight rasp in his voice from not using it brought a smile to your face. He must have woken up not long before you. Good, he deserved every second of sleep he could obtain after Satine's death. 

It haunted him, and for a while, he was stuck in a place of regret and guilt, wrapped up in his mind's delusions, until he met you. 

Christian was convinced that he could not love after his first, that no one could compare to the beauty and chaos she had placed over his life until you stepped through his apartment. Granite, it was purely accidental. You had mistaken your friend's flat for his, but when his eyes fell upon yours, the world seemed to fix itself. Instantly, there was a shift in his heart from mourning to hope, and boy, what a refreshing feeling it was. It brought a new light to his life that had previously shrouded over in darkness, like the rain clouds parting for the sun. At that point, he also realized the true meaning of Satine's dying words. She wanted him to love, to live a life outside of her and the fantasy they had created. It took a while to make that shift, to let someone else into his fragmented heart, but you were patient, slowly putting the pieces back together, placing a kiss on each one you patched up to remind him that he wasn't alone and above all that he was loved. 

The process of healing from such a traumatic event was long. However, even from that day when you had embarrassedly asked him for the right room, promising him to see him again, he had begun to heal. 

Now Christian stared at you, his heart in your hands. And although it was scarred, you cradled it so gently that he couldn't help but not be at ease. 

"Good morning Christian." His chest hummed with the airy laughter that left his thin kiss-bitten lips, his starry blue eyes never parting from yours. "Sleep well?"

"How could I not with you at my side?" Now it was your turn to laugh while he adjusted himself on his elbow, his fingers tracing the outline of your face. 

"Such a charmer," you cooed, pushing a silky onyx strand of hair from his eyes. 

"I would be anything for you, my darling. You need only to ask."

"Oh yeah?" You raised an eyebrow, and he chuckled, his head slightly shaking. 

"Yeah," he murmured almost breathlessly. 

"I want you to love me."

"But my sweet, I already do." The crease between Christian's eyebrows deepens, his eyes filling with confusion as your hand moves to cup his face, and within seconds he relaxes within your touch, soothed by your actions.

"That's the point."

#moulin rouge #moulin rouge movie #moulin rouge 2001 #movie musicals #christain x reader #christain moulin rouge #blurb #christain blurb #fluff #moulin rouge fluff #ewan mcgregors characters #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor avatars #ewan mcgregor christian #ewan mcgregor moulin rouge #ewan mcgregor x you #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewanfuckinmcgregor #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader

[kneamet]

Hi! Could you do one for Roman Sionis, where the reader is a telepath who's a frequent at Roman's club

But every advance Roman does while the reader is in his club, she'll know because she easily read Roman's thoughts and she smugly points out that his obsession with her won't work because "every move he makes that involves her, she's 10 steps ahead"

And Roman's just looking at her with an interested look?

Hehe thanks!

​my beautiful madness

Trigger Warning: obsession, drabble. yandere

Word Count: 609

Character: roman sionis/reader

my beautiful madness

The air was enveloped by the smell of perfume, light alcohol and suspense; the club glowed, lived its own life, was filled with hot and rich people. They were insects, as inconspicuous as time, trying to show off their «second self» — hypocritical, tender, profitable. Their bodies, lightened in tight-fitting suits, dresses, shone, showed the whole owner; cigarettes smoldered in their hands, thin glasses were clutched in their palms, little fingers were set aside. They are like caterpillars, striving to be butterflies, but however they have not come to a happy end.

Roman spent another evening in peace, sitting at a distance from the guests, and watched their habits and behavior with animal, animal interest. He was swinging a glass of whiskey, washed the sides with liquid, fixing his eyes on the only decent person in this sinful room — you. Sionis did not move, his hot breath was on his skin, the pounding of his heart drowned out even Dinah's birdlike voice. How long have you been coming here, to the place of sin and debauchery, vice and vulgarity — his club? He wouldn't have remembered, and was it important? Who is interested in numbers when there is a real diamond in front of him? even the pursuit of the material is not worth it to contemplate you like this.

He knew that you were far from perfect: your private unbearable sarcasm, too bright gestures... you managed to tame the mess, and Roman — chaos — favored you. You were just as crippled as he was, strangled by your parents and obligations so that now there were no barriers in front of you anymore. A beautiful, proud bird with clipped wings, charred wings, with fluffy feathers falling.

This is a party of darkness and there is no one to believe, no one to look up to. Roman, lifting his head, stuck out his clean-shaven chin, and carefully walked to the place where she was sitting. Chatting with another uncouth man who pulled his hands to the most intimate places, he suppressed the desire to break, but he felt his fingers begin to tremble. Roman leaned against the side of the sofa upholstered in red fabric, and leaned towards you, to your ear and quietly whispered something threatening, sweet, rude. everything in the world is a pretense and a game; and if you want to play, then he will enthusiastically take part. He rubbed his nose against her skin — ah, that smell! — and, closing his eyes, he sniffed hair until he felt a repulsive movement.

Roman looked at your smug face in bewilderment, but quickly recovered, smiling seductively and spreading his hands. The man with pink hands, a greasy stain on his shirt, a shiny collar and tight pants, has already left. Her piercing gaze was directed only at him, focused only on him, and Roman enjoyed the attention. His chest filled with even more narcissism, and his hands relaxed.

"You're not going to make it, Mr. Sionis," he tensed when he heard the despised surname; Mr. Sionis was his father, he's not Mr. Sionis. You looked at him ironically, grinning. “I know your every move,” you got up and, hitting him on the nose with your finger, said: “ten steps forward,” and turning around, left like a white free swan. Roman was fascinated by her proud gait, did not utter a word; he could imagine the soft sound of her thighs touching and get a true obsessive joy from it.

His club is a city where the lights go out, and he calls death down the aisle; she left a couple of scars.

The beautiful madness was not silent. The beautiful madness triumphed.

@jjeresano-euler sorry that it turned out so little (and so late). if you are not satisfied with something - the text, the narrative - write to me and i can write something else for you. but thanks for the request! even if i dont really like this job. the next most likely will be drabble about patrick :)

by the way, have any of you watched/read "young adam"? and if so, what can you say about joe? i just finished reading the book and god, i will definitely write something on joe.

#yandere #yandere roman sionis #yandere x reader #yandere roman sionis x you #yandere roman sionis x reader #yandere black mask #yandere dc #obsession #angst #ewan mcgregor x you #yandere ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewan mcgregor #black mask #dc #obi-wan kenobi #yandere obi wan kenobi #dark #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis #batman #roman sionis x you #yandere dc comics #birds of prey #harley queen #obi wan kenobi

[catnipaddictt]

Abstract

wc: 2.1k

series masterlist ⭑ co-creator @memoiich

You had finally moved away from your hometown. A final answer to your undying search for independence. A trait your mothers whipped tongue had tried to rein back for years. Something that had very clearly failed. The thought alone made you smirk a bit as you stood before your new home. The Alderaan apartments were a choice at best. Very cheap for the location being so close to the centre of the city but a little decrepit. Still it felt like a palace to you right now.

You made your way up to the 4th floor, the highest of the crumbling building. Leaving you to look out to the curtains of the slightly nicer hotel on the other side of the street. Grabbing your suitcase, you unpacked your luggage before coming to the realisation that you had no food in your new home. And of course it just had to be dark outside, evening having set. After overthinking your options you decided to ask your neighbour for some eggs. Dragging yourself to your neighbour’s door with your metaphorical tail between your legs, you knocked on the door.

A strange being poked its face through the slightest gap possible, it looked around worried. You didn’t know if it was to look for trouble or to find it. After the anxiety-writing look, the creature opened the creaking door. Now that you could see it, It was clearly a Gungan.

“Hello. Missa Jar Jar Binks. Why are you at misssas door?“ he questions “Hey, I'm your new neighbour. I was wondering if I could borrow some eggs?“ You say, a bit unsure of the Gungan in front of you. “Missa loves eggs. Sun sun or scrambled, lovely for my tumtum” jar jar snickers at the end. ”So… Can I use the eggs? You question once again. “Missa doesn’t have any eggs for sunsun but missa could go to the store for stuff and stuff.” Not only did you think of going to the store before you were now massively disappointed and also extremely tired. The less effort option was clearly the wrong one.

“No it's fine I will go myself thank you anyways.” Before finishing Jar Jar was already speaking, “It's not a big dealio, you newbie don't know the way like missa does.” Before you could protest against this clearly exhausting task, he was already out of the door and started walking towards the staircase. Not wanting to be rude, you followed. It took 17 minutes longer than normal to get to the store because Jar Jar wanted to ‘cut a cornerio’. Once at the store Jar Jar started to argue after eating a RAW egg “As a tasty jum jum” Only after 36 min of arguing and you finally offering to just buy the dozen did you start to make your way back home which also took a small hour.

You could finally bid Jar Jar goodnight. You got home just to cook the damn eggs ‘sun-sun’ style and went to bed in the early morning, you already knew this new life was going to be hard at first.

Waking up had never been so hard before, but the alarm was ringing and today was an important one. It was your first day at your new job at the paper company, ‘Paper Force’. Paper Force was located pretty far away, you would have to drive past the mustafar part of the city, making it a long trip for a very tired driver. Prepping for work wasn't the worst as you had laid out your work outfit the night before.

You got in your beat-up 2002 beetle and started the 50 minute commute. At the 20 minute point your car started to rumble, not just a soft snore, no, a rumble. 10 minutes later and you were stuck by the side of the road. You search an auto shop on your hologram immediately. The only car mechanic that wasn't 2 hours away was a place called ‘MustaCar’. Having no time to waste, you called the number.

45 long minutes later an old pickup truck pulls up behind your still-not-starting beetle. By this point you were frankly very annoyed. You were already half an hour late to your new job, and it didn't seem like you were going to get there soon. And to make things worse, you slept bad last night, meaning you were now rather sleep deprived.

The door to the pickup truck swings open with a clunk, clearly well used. A man in his early to mid 20’s steps out of the vehicle, he reaches up and moves his dark-blond curls out of his field of vision. He wears an oil-stained long sleeved button up, of which you cannot tell the original colour, as well as a pair of dirtied jeans. He spots you, puts his hands in his pockets and stalks over, clearly in no hurry.

“I was just thinking you weren't going to bother showing up” you snapped at him harshly. “Well, sorry Miss, the rest of the world doesn’t revolve around you” You let out a sharp breath at his words. “Excuse me, just look at my car and do your job”. You were fed up with this day already and now you had to deal with a know-it-all, stuck-up, man-child of a mechanic. “Parents didn’t teach you manners I see, now what seems to be the matter here? So I can do my job” He walks towards your car, popping the lid. You roll your eyes at him before speaking. “Well she won't go” He rolls up his sleeves, “Figured that much” he states. Your brows furrow in annoyance, you don’t have time for his attitude, “something started making noise and now she doesn't want to run.” He leans forward to observe your car’s engine. “She, huh, does the lovely lady have a name as well?” You can hear his smirk through his words. Your ears turn red “Shelby, the car is called Shelby”. The mechanic lets out a harsh laugh as he turns to something unknown “An old lady I suppose then, with a name like that”. You let out a huff and turn away.

“Dead Battery and the terminals are corroding”. You jump slightly, having zoned out. “Sorry?” you question. “You have a dead battery and its terminals are also corroding. Oh and you have a break problem, that's what the noise was”. You stand there a bit perplexed, “Uh what does that mean?”. “It means you aren’t gonna be able to drive Shelby until you get her fixed”. He says the name of your car amusingly. “So can you do it then?” You ask, checking your hologram for the time, you were almost an hour late already. “Well that's my job isn’t it?” He raises an eyebrow. You sigh, clearly this guy thought highly of himself. “How much and how long?” you demand, patient wearing thin at this point. “Well the battery change is gonna be about 150, plus the corrosion, about 20, and the grinding breaks, another 150 credits” he pauses before speaking again, “it’ll take a bit, have to order in the parts, could take a while, a few weeks”. “A few weeks!” you all but shout.

You pace away, trying to think. You were very very late, had little to no sleep, and now your beloved car wasn’t going, plus you might have to wait weeks to get her back running. “Fine, do what you must” you bark out. Hopefully this man could fix Shelby quickly, and you would never have to deal with him or another car problem ever again. “Need anything out of her? Or are you good?” He asks. You walk over to Shelby, grab your bag, morning caffeine fix, and sweater. You shut the door gently. The guy speaks, walking back over to the pickup truck “Okay then, I’ll take her into the shop and she’ll be good as new soon. Oh and I will probably need some contact details, unless you never want to see your car again” He walks back carrying a piece of blue-ish paper and a pen with the ‘MustaCar’ logo on the side, passing both to you. You write down your information and hand it back to his expecting hand. “You should come by the shop, I’m sure the guys would love that” And with a smirk and a wink, he turns, secures Shelby, and gets back into the pickup. You watch as he drives off with your prized possession, your Shelby, If he ruins her, he will have hell to pay. You had now been walking for 30 minutes, with your workplace still another 20 minutes away. Your hair sticks to your forehead with sweat and your feet are starting to ache. The music playing in your ears is a nice distraction from your situation as you stroll at pace. Finally after what feels like a millennium, you reach the building. The large blue letters spell ‘Paper Force’, meaning you haven’t gotten lost along the way. Making your way to the building, you check your reflection in a window, fix your hair, and give yourself a mental pep talk. Just go in, explain what happened, it will all be fine. At least you hope. With a deep breath and step inside.

Pulling up the shop with a rumble, the pickup-truck deposits his newest client's female car around the back. The fading MustaCar sign blinks slowly at him as he gets out the parked truck and steps foot on solid ground. The beetle named Shelby looks out of place among the beat up vehicles, and forgotten projects of the shop. “Anakin” A female voice yells from inside the garage before a young togruta steps out. She wears overalls and a pair of safety goggles on her head. “New project Snips” He says. “What's wrong with it? It looks pretty good to me” the togruta states as she walks over and runs a hand over the bonnet. “Battery is dead, corrosion, and breaks need new pads” Anakin explains, counting off each problem on his fingers. “We are gonna need to order stuff in for her”. The togruta laughs “Her?” she questions. Anakin sighs “Yes, Ahsoka, Her. Owner calls it Shelby". “Cute” Ahsoka shrugs “lets see what we can do”.

“Well the brake pads are definitely going to have to be replaced, there is basically nothing there” Ahsoka looks up as she speaks. “Thought as much, '' replies Anakin, as he wanders over with two cups of coffee, he passes one to Ahsoka. “Thanks”. “I placed an order for the new battery and brake pads, should take a week to arrive, but knowing the shipping times, it will probably take longer than that” Anakin says as he surveys Shelby. “At least she isn’t a complete wreck”. Ahsoka nods behind Anakin “speaking of wrecks, how is that project coming along ''. Anakin turns to look at the car sitting under a large tree. He had picked up the third generation Pontiac firebird from a man on his deathbed; it had been living in a barn for 20 years, rusted, and in desperate need of restoration. If it even could be saved. “It's a work in progress Snips”, “I don’t know, it is rusted pretty bad in some of it, it will take a genius to make it run again”, “Good thing i’m here then” He replies with a smile. Ahsoka rolls her eyes and drains the last of her drink before returning to their newest project.

A voice pulls Anakin out of his work “Anakin, I need to speak to you”. The voice comes from an elderly man, Palpatine, the creator and owner of MustaCar. “Of course” Anakin wipes the oil off his hands on a nearby cloth, before throwing it back on the table and following Palpatine. They enter the main office of the shop and Palpatine closes the door behind them. “Sith Auto Dominion is growing. At this rate we will be losing profit by the same time next month” Palpatine states. Sith Auto Dominion was the biggest competition for MustaCar, located on the other side of town on Geonosis Blvd. Over time the opposing shop had been taking their customers, meaning Palpatine and the people he employ have been having to cut costs however they can. “What can we do?” Anakin questions. “Not much my boy, we just have to be careful. I have owned this shop for 45 years and I will not see it go bankrupt” he takes a breath “You are my best mechanic Anakin, I cannot afford to lose you”. Palpatine walks around to his desk and sits down, gesturing at the seat opposite him. “I have a favour to ask you, Anakin”. “Anything” He replies. “Take your apprentice, go to Sith Auto, find out what they have that we don’t”

“Alright Snips, we have a job”

#star wars #the clone wars #tcw #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x reader #hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen x reader #revenge of the sith #ashoka tano #star wars anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #obi wan imagine #obi wan kenobi #obi wan and anakin #obi wan star wars #obi wan x reader #prequel trilogy #obi wan x you #ewan mcgregor

[stardancerluv]

Being A Good Friend

Epilogue Part 7, the end

Summary: Alex’s worries are finally behind him.

Note: omg😥 I loved writing this story. I loved Alex and this “reader” so much. Always tried to keep him accurate even with this one big change. Thank you everyone whoever read my Alex.

Taking a sip from his glass, looked out to the crashing waves before glancing back at Detective McCall. “Honestly detective, I can’t thank you enough. For a moment there, I thought I was done for. Juliet, Rose they have really lost it.” Alex, chewed on his bottom lip.

His friend, someone who at one time he had allowed himself to trust completely had held a gun at you, Lexi. That had taken a chunk out of him.

The man nodded. “Money, truly changes people.”

Holding, the brim of your large hat you glanced back the two of them and smiled. Alex met your eyes, he had never thought when he struggled to be who he was while living Juliet and David.

He had been such a bastard, well he still could be. He was very protective of you and his little princess, but he wasn’t miserable. He tried to not be unnecessarily cruel or drink to excess like he used to. It had all been part of a wall he had around himself. It had kept people at arm’s length. But then he met you, you had made him realize there was more to live then competition and fast, easy pleasures.

Now, he tried everyday to be a good man for you and his princess. He wanted to do right by them.

McCall, brushed his sleeve aside. “Alex, I am glad we finish all this. Scotland lost a good man, a good woman.” He remarked and he stood up, looking over at you.

“I am just a man who wants to get a good story published into his paper and love his family.” Replied Alex, putting his glass down.

Holding her bear close to her chest little Lexi ran over, you were not far behind.

There was a crunch of tires in the driveway. “There’s my ride to the airport. If you two ever make it back. Give me a holler.” He extended a hand.

Alex, firmly shook it. “Will do.”

“We can’t thank you enough.”

“All in a day’s job. Nothing makes me happier then carrying out, the law.” He said firmly, yet had a warm smile on his face as he looked at you. “And you little one, be good for your mummy and daddy.” He ruffled, Lex’s auburn strands. She giggled and shimmied where she stood.

******

He watched as his little princess sighed and snuggled into her bear, as he pulled the blanket closer around. “Sweet dreams, princess.” He whispered.

Coming, into the living room he went over to where you stood by large window looking out. He wrapped an arm around your waist. “We finally don’t have to look over our shoulders.” You whispered as you laid your head on his shoulder.

“Yes.” He moved just enough to place a kiss on top of your head. He remembered when he first saw you at the bar, when he was being Juliet’s wing man or woman since he was dressed up. “Would you have still drank with me, if you knew all of this?” A kernel of his old self doubt reared his head.

You pulled away, your eyes searched his in the low light of the room. Your soft hand reached up and cupped your cheek. “Yes, I wouldn’t want anyone else in my life or the father of my child, even if he was a man who at one time, hated the idea of children.” A soft chuckle came from you.

“Because now, she has me wrapped around her little finger.”

“She does.”

“Well, good.” He smirked. His confidence that carried an air of smugness flowed to the surface. “I am pretty amazing.”

“You certainly are.” You whispered and he pulled you close.

@mac-n-cheesie @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @johallzy @chogisss @calcifor @i-love-scott-mccall @stardust-and-starlight @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @xbrex @hollow-r-us @unfilteredmoonchild @thebeckyjolene @cult-of-enji-todoroki

#fem!reader #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x you #ewan mcgregor x y/n #ewan mcgregor x reader #alex law #alex law x reader #alex law x you #alex law x y/n #being a good friend #epilogue part 7 #alex law imagine #alex law fanfiction #ewan mcgregor fanfiction