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[j4desblurbs]

[j4desblurbs]

hey girl…..

[j4desblurbs]

ryan gosling and chris evans in the gray man (2022)

[j4desblurbs]

HURT YOU

sierra six (courtland gentry) x fem! reader

this man has been running laps in my brain since august so hope you enjoy 🫶 thank you to the loml @retrosabers for helping me with this

summary: six comes home wounded, and seeks comfort in your presence.

warnings: kissing, touching, description of injuries

word count: 1.2k

it had never been this bad.

sure, six had come home with injuries before. it was a part of the job, something that was expected, that you learned to get used to when you started dating him.

but the sight that confronts you now is something that you’d never imagined.

there’s a slight limp to his walk, like he’s favoring one side and doing his best not to show it. his nose is bleeding and looks broken, and there’s probably more under his clothes.

he stumbles through the doorway, trying his hardest to hide the true extent of his injuries. but even his bravest face can’t disguise the great deal of pain he’s clearly in. immediately, you rush to him, gingerly taking his face in your hands. you can feel him relax a little bit into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut at the relief of being home. of being back with you.

even though he was the one who was battered and bloodied, he took the time to ask, “you okay?”

you manage a feeble laugh, looking over him. “i’m fine. but you don’t look okay.”

“i’ll be alright.” he says, wincing slightly.

“court.”

he knows better than to deny you the truth when you use his real name. he lets out a heavy sigh as you lead him over to the bathroom.

“got ambushed in bogota.”

you sigh, helping ease his clothes off him as he sits down on the edge of the bathtub. you look over his injuries, clocking the bruises all over his torso and legs.

you know your way around his body. many nights spend tangled between the sheets, committing every inch of him to memory. you know something doesn’t feel right, no need to look at the blossoming purple on his side.

his rib is definitely broken.

“jesus christ.” you breathe out, trying your best to remain calm. you’re of no use if your hands start shaking.

you busy yourself by digging through the cabinet for the first aid kit, deciding to focus on the things you can handle. six knows you well enough to see through all your nervous ticks. his hand is warm when it wraps around your forearm, thumb rubbing soft circles into your skin. it’s a delicate gesture that stands in harsh contrast to the way he sits before you.

“hey.” he says, his tone soft. “it’s okay.”

you close your eyes and let out a puff of air through your nose. his other hand comes to rest against the back of your knee, gently nudging you closer to him.

“promise me that you’ll be more careful next time?”

you both know he can’t promise that. but he always promises it anyways. if it helps you sleep just a little bit better tonight, he would do just about anything.

six nods his head a bit glumly. “i promise.”

you then take care of all the smaller scratches and cuts and bruises, and it’s not long before all that’s left to cover is his broken nose, and the long bruise along his left side, purpling as time passes.

you hesitate to touch it again, recalling the way he flinched earlier. it’s like court can read your mind. he can tell from the wrinkle between your brows that you’re frustrated and unsure.

“there’s nothing you can do.” he tells you softly. “broken ribs just need to heal on their own.”

you frown. “but you won’t have ti-”

“i know i won’t have time.” he moves his hand from your shoulder to your hand, squeezing affectionately. “i just have to be careful, that’s all.”

tears well in your eyes. you hate that he has to do this. that he has to throw himself into mission after mission with barely any time to heal from the last one. knowing that the people he works for view him as disposable. you can’t fathom having anyone but six by your side, and it cuts you to your core knowing the people who put his life on the line don’t view him the same way.

his hand comes up and cups your face, his thumb brushing away a tear that’s made its way down your cheek.

he says your name softly, gently moving your face to look at him.

“i’m okay.” he reassures you once more. your bottom lip trembles unwillingly, and it nearly brings tears of his own.

“i’m okay.” he repeats for a final time before your resolve finally crumbles. you collapse to the floor between his legs, and you let go of a wrecked sob.

you do your best to reign it in, not wanting to come undone, but you can’t muster enough energy to try.

this breakdown is just because of tonight. it’s been weeks, months even, of having knots in your stomach at the thought of six never coming home. never again being in his arms, never getting that sliver of softness he reserves for you, and only you, ever again.

he wraps his arms around you and hold you close to his chest, in spite of his injuries. he could deal with the pain of a broken bone. he didn’t think he could deal with the pain he feels responsible for.

“sweetheart.” he whispers, trying to get you to calm down as he wipes your tears with his thumb. “look at me.”

with tears still blurring your vision, you look up at him. even with your glassy eyes, you could see he was hurting just as much as you.

one of his hands reaches around to rub at the nape of your neck. “i’m not going anywhere.”

“six-“

“listen to me.” he’s a bit firmer now, but not mean. he knows it’s the only way to snap you out of it sometimes. “it’s going to take a lot more than a broken rib and a bullet hole to keep me away from you, you hear me? nothing could keep me from coming home to you.”

of course, the rational part of you knows that. six is too good at what he does to die, even if he does get injured regularly. despite this, you can’t help the nightmares, the sleepless nights, the constant fear that the next time you see six is in a body bag.

you don’t want to let that fear control you. not right now at least. there may only be a few hours left in today, but you’re going to make them worthwhile.

you pick yourself up off the floor, reaching for six to lead him to your bedroom. you know that you should probably clean up the first aid supplies, but frankly, you couldn’t care less. six rests on the edge of the bed as you find him a shirt, making sure not to disturb any of his wounds as you help him slip it on.

he slides under the covers, pulling you in the bed with him. as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, six presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, resting his chin there for a minute.

“i love you.” his voice is gravelly.

you place your hands over his, gently rubbing your thumbs in soft circles on his wrists. “i love you too.”

he pulls you even closer, cocooning his body around yours and pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. you love moments like this; soft, domestic ones that you don’t get to have often because of how much six is away.

you hope that one day, these moments won’t be so fleeting.

[j4desblurbs]

[j4desblurbs]

the driver but he’s :(

[j4desblurbs]

BOMBSHELL (2019) dir. Jay Roach THE GRAY MAN (2022) dir. Joe Russo and Anthony Russo

[j4desblurbs]

on a mission

[j4desblurbs]

obsessed with the idea of reality tv in star wars...imagine there being a Real Huttwives of Tatooine show. the jedi order has to fend off constant requests to have a jedi appear on the Bachelor. Fancasts always include Obi-Wan and Kit Fisto. Anakin religiously keeps up with 36 different shows. Ahsoka once signs him up for the bachelorette as a joke, except it works, and then an unsuspecting Anakin has to field a Call from Padme about what her husband is up to. Space twitter has never been so disappointed when casting announcement is hastily retracted. Obi-Wan goes on the Great Coruscanti Baking Show once for charity but the episode never airs for reasons that are never explained. It becomes the holonet's white whale. Love Island except it's all wookies. Naked and Afraid but it's all shaved wookies. the possibilities are endless and i believe with enough effort and funding we as the sw fandom can explore each and every one

[j4desblurbs]

i’ve become a ryan gosling fan especially of sierra six so if you have any thots send em in :)

[j4desblurbs]

incoherent screeching

Pretty Young Thing

One-shot

Pairing: Obi-Wan/FemReader

Warnings/Tags: Explicit content. Just filth. PWP. Listen, I just wanted to give this man a break. He deserves gratuitous sex and alcohol.

"No names."

It was the singular rule he had, in all the years you'd known him.

Was 'known' the right word? Did you consider yourself an acquaintance if you know exactly how slow he likes to fuck, but you don't ask him where his newest scar came from, and he doesn't ask you why you've moved apartments?

☆☆☆

Sometimes he had you repeat it back to him when you first started meeting; a sort of reassurance for him that nothing could follow him back to his life - back to reality. You would whisper it to him without hesitation.

"No names," he would remind you breathlessly while shedding his clothing, one hand remaining on your skin, his mouth inches from your ear.

"Don't worry," you would assure him.

He'd rake his fingers over your shoulders, pulling you closer and pressing his mouth urgently against yours. "Say it- say it back."

You would grin, always uncertain if he was asking to make sure you understood, or just working himself up more. He liked to hear the words, and you always knew by the way his body responded when you said them. 

"No names."

Tonight, the words ring in your head as you lean against the bar, replaying the images of past nights in the back of your mind, waiting. You were always waiting on him.

That afternoon you'd heard he was back on Coruscant, and your last meeting of the day couldn't end soon enough. You both knew the time and place. If he was on the planet, you never missed the spot. Some nights he left you waiting until the bar closed, never making an appearance. But you knew if he could come, he would. And he was always worth the wait.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

You're surrounded by pulsing bodies and throbbing music which makes it nearly impossible to hear one individual over all the noise. But that voice will always get your attention. 

He leans in closer as you tilt your gaze in his direction. "Or were you waiting for someone?"

You smile. "I was, but he's disappointed me before. I was just about to leave."

His eyebrows raise. "Anyone who would disappoint you must be very foolish." He pauses. "Or exceedingly disappointed, himself. The only thing that could be more important than a night with you would be the fate of the galaxy."

He adds another pause while your mouth twists in feigned displeasure. "...one would imagine."

His mouth slides into a grin, and you can't help but return it, the way his eyes sparkle when they meet yours. He pulls his attention away to signal the bartender, and when you take your drink and leave, he follows you to a dark corner. You turn to face him when you reach the wall, away from prying eyes.

You take a sip, while he downs half of his drink in a single, greedy swallow. He places the glass on a nearby table and stands next to you, first curling one arm around your back, slowly, then following it with the rest of his body to move behind you. He rests the back of a finger against your shoulder and smooths it down your bare arm as you continue to sip. 

A shiver runs through you at his touch, and you keep staring forward. "Your hair is so long, now."

You feel him smile against your cheek when he presses himself closer to you. "Haven't had much time for a cut, I'm afraid."

"I like it," you tell him. "Makes you look younger."

He laughs, and you love the way it feels, the vibrations leaving his chest and sinking into your back. "I suppose I need all the help I can get."

A new song begins, changing the atmosphere from loud and fast-paced to a darker mood, more intense. His body starts to move against yours, rolling from his shoulders down to his waist. You lean into him, eyes closing when he lets his head come down to your shoulder and his beard tickles your neck. His rich, clean scent saturates your brain with thoughts only of him, and how much you've missed the feel of him against you. 

You both get lost in the music for a long time, enjoying the escape of dancing without thinking. His arms surround you, and you turn to look at his face. The sickly lights of the scummy bar reflect over his features and he's positively radiant, as usual. You lean in for a kiss. His mouth welcomes you as it always does, perfect and soft, the taste of him as sweet as ever, even through the notes of liquor on his breath. 

He returns your kiss with a languid swipe of his tongue, only breaking hesitantly away after a long moment to check your surroundings. You know he's looking to see if anyone is staring, but you take the opportunity to flag down someone walking past, carrying a tray of drinks. You exchange a few credits and press the shot into his hand. 

"You need to loosen up."

He gives you another grin, his teeth glinting in the dim light as he throws back the shot. He doesn't react, doesn't squint, doesn't pause. It might well have been water, the way he instantly goes back to kissing you. 

When his lips meet yours, everything else becomes a blur - the bar, the street outside, the back of the cab, your apartment. Details. Unimportant when he's tugging on your bottom lip, swiping his tongue over yours, parting your mouths to softly brush his thumb over your jaw. Only a brief moment seems to pass, and all at once you're keying in the code to the front door of your apartment.

You tumble through the door, kicking it closed behind you, and he's already pulling off his clothes. He drops his grey cloak at the door, stepping over it to push you toward the seating area of your living room. His hands fall to the waist of his pants, carelessly tugging at the hem of his shapeless blue shirt, pulling it over his head before you can even ask. His mouth is back at your neck as soon as he's free, his bare shoulders crowding you, pressing you down into the couch. 

Your arms slide down his back and you suppress a whine at the way his fingers impatiently unfasten the front of your shirt. As soon as you feel his bare skin on yours, your hand plummets downward desperately. His hands have finished their work, pulling the front of your shirt open just as you make contact. He stops, back hunched, and drops his head forward. The way his locks of hair fall forward over his face is immaculate, and you take your time, just soaking in the sight of him. 

His eyes are closed, brows furrowed. The shadows of his eyelashes darken his face. You brush your hand over the length of him through his pants. His mouth falls open.

"Touch me," he whispers, leaning in to close his mouth over yours. "Touch me."

You pull your palm over the front of his pants, enjoying the shape of him, then dip your fingers below his waistband and start to stroke him, finally making contact with the warmth of his skin. You revel in the way he instantly thrusts against your open hand. You've barely grazed him and he's already bucking earnestly for more. 

"I'm going to put on some music," you murmur into his ear, leaning upward and taking your hand out of the front of his clothes. 

"Ngh?" he makes a desperate noise at the loss of contact and you smile at the way his gorgeous blue eyes gloss over with confusion, following your movements as you reach for a remote on the table nearby. You know he tends to lose himself even more when you play music for him. 

It reminds you of the first time you did this. Years ago, when he was a fresh knight, barely more than a padawan, and you were just a senator's intern, newly arrived on the planet. He'd been so shy, so unsure of himself. So unsure of what he wanted. You'd chatted all night, and when you'd mentioned your love for music he'd invited you to listen to him play the quetarra back in his quarters. Of course he'd said he wasn't any good, only an amateur, but he'd played beautifully. Since that night you'd met at every opportunity throughout the changing of your respective careers. And never once had he asked your name. He insisted it kept him from forming an attachment, and you were only so happy to oblige, so long as he kept coming back.

The music is playing now, filling the apartment with quiet pulses of bass. No sooner have you put down the remote than he's sliding his leg between your knees, spreading them on the couch, and kissing your neck. His hand deftly unfastens the clasp of your belt and moves it to the side, slipping beneath the waist of your pants. He lets out a soft breath when his fingers drop easily between your legs. You're almost embarrassed at the way his hand is slicked with you, but he makes a quiet "Oh..." sound against your neck and it's instantly clear how much it turns him on.

He pulls back to look down at you, locking his eyes onto yours as he pushes two fingers inside you, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he grins wickedly at your response. You gasp, gripping the side of his forearm, muscles there tight as he starts to work his fingers inside you, brushing up against the perfect spot he knows will melt you into a whimpering mess. 

It doesn't take long before you're biting back pitiful noises, writhing against him as he pulls your sanity apart. You're not above begging when it comes to him, and he knows it. He's waiting for it. 

"Please..."

He cups your jaw in his hand and kisses you deeply, still pumping his fingers diligently, maddeningly.

"Anything. What is it?"

"Need you. Please. Please, fuck me."

All the lightness leaves his face at once. He's no longer in a playful mood when he tugs the front of your remaining clothes down, pressing one hand into the couch beside your head while the other wraps around his cock. His knees keep your legs spread, and in one fluid motion, he's inside you. 

He doesn't even stop to let you process the sensation of him. He's inside you and his pace is immediate and perfect. Slow, steady, gorgeous. The only sound he makes when you're finally wrapped around him is a quiet panting, the usual rigid air about him being incrementally replaced with an animalistic state of zen. 

You feel every inch of him, the way he gives it to you as if each movement is an artistic choice, building and building the warmth inside you until you're shamelessly moaning for more. You arch your back, giving him more room to fill you, and his pace finally stutters. You smirk at the way his eyes roll back. 

"You feel incredible."

His hips start to snap, his rhythm faltering. "Don't...  don't say things like that, or I won't... last..."

You can't help it. A groan escapes you at his admission and you buck your hips upward to meet him. "So good. So fucking... good."

"Stars," he gasps, mouth open and eyes squeezed shut. "Shit-"

He pauses, clenching his jaw as if concentrating deeply, holding back. Finally, he rasps, "Darling, come for me."

He slides a hand between your legs and gently works his thumb over you, bringing you screaming over the edge all at once, your hands flying up to grip his neck, desperately grasping to make sure he keeps pounding into you while you whimper out your bliss. 

He keeps his rhythm steady, working out every last drop of your orgasm until you're spent and gasping for air, before he finally begins to lose his composure, raggedly grinding into you. He brings a hand behind your head, fingers tangling into your hair while he finishes, his cock sliding in and out of you as his cum spills out between your legs, coating the insides of your thighs in a sticky, beautiful mess. 

He stays inside you like this for a long time, arms shaking, as you both catch your breath. His face is glowing when he looks down at you, catching your lips in a messy half-smiling kiss.

You let out a deep sigh, brushing your hands through his hair when he finally slides out of you and collapses beside you. You're going to lie like this for as long as you can. Breathless, thoughtless, nameless, and wrapped in the arms of Obi Wan fucking Kenobi, you're going to fall asleep.

[j4desblurbs]

MODERN OBI WAN HCS

hiya whores! i’m back with another installment of obi wan hcs. none of these are smutty but i might do a pt 2 🤭

also if you want more hcs abt a certain type of obi wan lemme know

no warnings!

- sweaters and glasses. right off the bat.

- loves books and literature

- collects little trinkets from trips

- loves to travel

- can cook (and loves to bake!)

- loves knit things, socks, hats, gloves

- big nature guy

- meditates

- doesn’t seem to realize how hot he is

- muscular but not actually trying to be

- watches the history channel

- likes to entertain kids

- drives some rustbucket on wheels type car

- pretty smile :)

- can paint nails better than anyone else

- likes having his hair played with

- smells like sandalwood and the sun and citrus

- gives you small smiles from across the room when you make eye contact

- snores but not obnoxious

- tea guy

- likes fantasy films

- sunburns pretty easily

- artist; loves to paint and draw

- likes to garden

- all his books are worn from rereading so much

- loves the water, always tries to live near some body of water

- special interest in cartography

- lactose intolerant

- likes to make little bouquets for his loved ones

- does his best to comfort those around him when they’re sad

- loves the sun

- absolutely adores trying new cuisine; his favs are indian thai and japanese

- has wayyyy too many books

- likes to bike ride through the streets

- gets really intense when he’s talking about something that he’s interested in

- chronic blusher

[j4desblurbs]

DISTANCE

obi wan kenobi x fem! reader

welcome to my second fic! this took me quite a while cuz motivation ebbed and flowed, but here it is. please bear with me if there are grammatical errors or anything that just doesn’t sound right; i’m still navigating this writing thing. thank you so much to my bbg @retrosabers for proofreading & editing, & thank you all for reading! i hope you enjoy :)

summary: obi wan has noticed you straying away from him, and decides to find out why.

warnings: just some angst

word count: 2.4k

obi-wan noticed it, the way you walked straight past him in the hallways instead of stopping to say hello. the way you chose to sit alone at lunch instead of joining him, anakin, and ahsoka.

and it puzzled him, because the change in your behavior towards him was so sudden, like a switch had been flipped. he didn’t know what he had done, if he had done anything at all.

“is something wrong, master?”

obi-wan startles, turning towards ahsoka, who’s looking at him expectantly.

“you looked kinda upset. i just wanted to make sure everything was okay.” she gives a small shrug.

he clears his throat. “yes, everything is fine. thank you for checking.”

ahsoka nods hesitantly, and then leaves.

obi-wan sighs. he really must talk to you soon.

it was lunch time. he already knew you wouldn’t be willing to sit with him in the mess hall, but perhaps it was worth a try to talk to you anyway.

obi-wan sees you exiting the line for food, and making your way to the usual table in the corner. he moves towards you and to catches you by the shoulder.

“hello.” he greets softly. he’s not sure what else he can say.

“hi.” you manage. and then you start to walk away.

“wait!” obi-wan says hurriedly.

but you don’t stop. you’re walking away, and it’s no longer towards your table, but out of the mess hall altogether.

obi-wan’s heart sinks.

was what he had done so terrible that you couldn’t bear to hold the slightest interaction with him?

over the next few days, obi-wan continues to seek you out, to no avail. he barely sees you during lunch or in the halls, and he doesn’t dare to try your quarters.

he doesn’t know what to do. he desperately needs to speak with you, but he also doesn’t want to force you. all of this leaves him with quite the situation.

it’s in the nights, the restless, sleepless nights mostly spent by tossing and turning, that he decides to just take the first opportunity he can get and talk to you. it will drive him mad if he doesn’t.

several days pass before he sees you in the hall, and his feet are moving towards you before he can process it. he should stop, think this through before he does anything, but his rationality is overruled by his heart.

he calls your name, but you don’t turn back.

he says your name again, and it takes every ounce of your strength not to look at him. but when you hear him get closer, and feel his hand rest on the inside of your arm, you can’t keep your guard up any longer.

“obi-wan.” you say, turning to look at him. you had your suspicions that obi wan wasn’t taking your radio silence well, but you weren’t expecting him to look so defeated. while he still maintained his normal air as a jedi master, you could see the mental exhausation in his eyes, and you could feel his distress in the force.

he gives a wry smile, before his face falls. “i’ve been meaning to talk to you, but i wasn’t sure if- i didn’t want to overstep, or make you uncomfortable or anything of that sort.” he stops and folds his hands in front of him, twisting his fingers. he’s nervous.

“okay. what did you want to say?” you straighten your posture and fold your arms across your chest.

he awkwardly clears his throat. “do you want to go somewhere less…open?”

he’s looking at you so earnestly that you can’t help but oblige.

obi-wan leads you to a small clearing just outside the jedi temple that you used to frequent back when you were closer. it’s peaceful, ringed with flowers growing in patches and tall trees in the distance. there’s an old, once broken fountain in the middle that you got anakin to help you fix.

“i…haven’t been here in a while.” you admit, bending down to run your fingers over a patch of flowers.

he sits next to you by the patch, deftly picking a flower from it and tucking it behind your ear. he smiles softly when you turn to look at him, a smile you return.

“i have. it’s a nice place to come to when i…need to clear my head.” he looks back down at the flowers.

you nod almost imperceptibly before brushing your hands off on your pants and standing up.

“so, what did you want to say?” you look at him expectantly.

obi-wan pauses, collecting his thoughts. he wants to make sure that what he says comes across clearly; the last thing he wants to do is say something that would offend you and cause him to lose his chance to express his concerns with you.

“i feel as though you have been avoiding me in the past few weeks. i sensed that you were becoming more distant, drawn in, especially around me. i want to make sure everything is alright. that…i haven’t done anything wrong. because if i have, i’m so sorry, and i will do everything in my power to correct it.”

you hesitate. you know that you’ve been growing distant, and that obi-wan deserves to know why. he’s been nothing short of a kind and loving friend in your life, and seeing him so rattled by your change in behavior tugs at your heart strings. but that’s where the problem lied. you didn’t look at him as just a friend. your feelings for master kenobi were growing stronger as the days went by, and putting up walls between you two seemed to be your only answer to the problem.

you didn’t realize it was hurting him too.

you struggle putting your feelings into words, the jedi code at the forefront of your mind. you can’t possibly tell him how you feel, not when you know he’ll rebuke you, and you don’t think your friendship, or your heart, could survive that.

“obi-wan.” you begin, but your voice dies in your throat.

he gives you a look. the kind he always does when he knows you need to vent, and a crack begins to form on your heart. you can’t bear to lose him, but the weight of lying hurts just as much.

“the reason i haven’t been talking to you lately…is because i don’t want to lose you.” you fidget with your hands as you speak, unable to bring yourself to make eye contact with him.

“i….as i’ve started to get closer to you, i’ve found myself feeling for you in a way i hadn’t felt for anyone before. i didn’t know what it was at first, and once i did, i tried to deny it, but it just kept growing. i knew it was wrong.”

you’re starting to cry now, the tears welling in your eyes and falling down your face as you blink.

“so, i started to distance myself from you. i knew i could never have you, that you’d leave eventually, because…”

“because?”

you force yourself to look up at obi-wan, into his eyes, and you find that he is much closer to you than you expected. he’s looking at you with concern, the emotion so clear on his face that you’re taken aback. it takes you a moment to collect yourself enough to speak again:

“because everyone who i’ve ever loved has left me in the end.”

obi-wan has an expression that’s an unreadable mix of shock, sadness, and pain. something stirs in the force, a heavy weight pulling you closer to each other, and you find yourself buried in his arms before you can fully process it.

his arms envelope you in a hug that feels like home. he feels like home. a place your heart will always belong, and always want to be. finally, the dam breaks, and a wrecked sob escapes your lips as he pulls you closer.

obi-wan’s voice is strained, like he’s on the verge of tears himself. “you’re never going to lose me.”

he’s stunned. he can’t imagine anyone wanting to leave you behind. you, with your sweet disposition, the way you smiled at the younglings as you walked past them, occasionally stopping to entertain one, the way you were so dedicated to honing your skills, becoming the best jedi you could be, the way you treated everyone around you with respect and kindness and loyalty.

how could anyone let go of that?

obi-wan gently guides you out of his arms, but rests his hands on your elbows. you wipe your tears with your sleeve and make eye contact with him. you can tell he wants to say something.

“who? who….left you?” he asks, concern ever so evident on his face. his hands rub your arms softly, as an attempt to soothe you, let you know he won’t push you to form your answer.

the question almost makes you start crying again. after what feels like months of ignoring obi-wan, having him be so concerned for you makes you feel terrible. you swallow the lump in your throat before speaking:

“back home” you sighed. “i was friends with this girl. we were close, told each other everything.” you smiled sadly at the memories. “one day she started to become distant...” you paused. the attention in obi-wan’s gaze encouraged you to continue. “she started growing distant and then before i knew it, it was like we were strangers. like our friendship meant nothing.” you close your eyes and let out a deep breath. “i didn’t let myself make friends for a long time i was so rattled by it. and when i finally did, they all eventually fell down the same path. it made me think there was something wrong with me.” your voice broke on the last word, your throat burning with the arrival of fresh tears. “i had to be the problem. there had to be a reason why no one would stay.”

“my spirit...well i’m sure you can tell it hasn’t been the greatest.” you try and brush off your feelings with a forced laugh, but it only makes the crease between obi-wan’s brow deepen. “when i came to coruscant i thought it would be a fresh start, a new beginning. and it has been.” your eyes glimmer for a fleeting moment. “but i guess i’m still really scared.”

you take a deep breath, the weight in your chest finally lifted. you look at obi-wan expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

obi-wan’s hand moves from your elbow to rest on your shoulder.

“my love, i…i’m so sorry you had to go through that. i’m sorry you ever felt like….felt like you had to distance yourself from me.”

“you must know” his tone is hushed, bordering on pained. “you must know how i feel for you.” as he fully engulfs your face in his hand, thumb caressing your cheekbone to wipe away a stray tear, you see the adoration in his eyes. you feel the strength of the force pulling you together, intertwining your souls. obi-wan is nearly on the verge of tears when he admits: “i have loved you since the moment i first laid eyes on you. my heart is yours. it’s always been yours.”

you blink softly at his words, your mind running as it tries to process them. it feels like time had stopped, that the maker had granted you this moment to claim as your own, something that no one could take away from either of you. not the sith, not the council, no one.

“obi-wan….” you start, but you can’t form words. no words would be able to fully express your feelings, your relief at knowing that your love isn’t unrequited.

instead, you move forward, your hands coming up to hold his face and your forehead touching his. he relaxes into your touch, hands finding their way to the small of your back. he pulls you impossibly close, like if he lets you slip even the slightest bit away this will all have been a dream.

you breath fans over his face, lips a mere few inches apart. his ocean blue eyes flick up to yours, asking permission to do what you’ve been wanting for ages.

you whisper his name, a desperate grant of permission, and his lips are on yours. the kiss is all of the unspoken words from over the years; a soft and gentle, yet soulful and passionate way of saying “i love you. i’ll always love you.”

his lips are soft against yours, and his hands tighten on your waist. he’s warm, and solid, and you lean even closer into his touch.

suddenly, realization strikes you. you straighten, your hands coming away from obi-wan’s face slightly. his brows furrow, and his hands shift on your hips a bit.

“darling? what is it? what’s the matter?” his eye contact is so unwavering that you can’t help but falter a bit before voicing your concern.

your voice is barely audible. “the code obi-wan.”

he deflates, but only a little.

“what are we to do?”

obi-wan takes a breath, and then gently, one hand moves back up to rest on the side of your face.

“there’s nothing for us to do. this is ours to have. the council cannot punish us for something that they do not know of. we sacrifice enough as is. you and i deserve to keep this to ourselves. you may tell the people you keep close to you if you wish, but do not for a minute think that this belongs to anyone else.”

you pause to think. for all your time on coruscant, the jedi code has been a large part in the way you go about things. it has greatly influenced your decisions and behaviors. so now, directly disobeying the code and the council that you admire (and fear) so much feels foreign, and wrong.

you value the code. but you have values of your own. and one of those is being compassionate. showing the people you care about that you love them. obi-wan is right. this is yours to have. you’ve wanted nothing more than to love him, and to be loved by him in return.

now that this opportunity is within reach, are you really going to let it slip away?

you nod softly. you want this. you want to be with obi-wan. and you weren���t going to let anyone interfere with that.

after all your loneliness and pain, you deserved this much.

[j4desblurbs]

happy pride month sluts more obi wan hcs are coming soon

[j4desblurbs]

BIKER OBI WAN HCS

obi wan kenobi x fem! reader

welcome to my attempt at staying active while i’m working on a fic. today’s installment would not exist without the ever so lovely @retroharrington love u babe :) anyways let’s go

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni), discussions of sexual situations, piv sex, oral, and fingering

- carries you to bed

- absolutely LOVES boobs like he can’t get enough of em

- big smoker, has a lighter on him at all times and will light a cigarette for you :)

- coca-cola fan

- hand in your back pocket if people get too close

- overprotective, but not overbearing

- texts you to check in when you’re out

- will always offer to pick you up on his bike to make you look cool

- teaches you how to ride a motorcycle

- gives you his motorcycle jacket

- likes to fuck you in skirts and dresses

- super loud moaner (and he’s a groaner too)

- fucks you over the motorcycle

- leaves bruises on your hips from gripping you so tight (kisses them all after)

- likes to put his fingers in your mouth

- waist holder

- winks at you when you’re out together to be a tease

- loves when you ride him

- makes out with you in the back of the movie theater

- can’t cook for shit

- likes cats

- he either has a terrible shitty phone that is cracked with the phone case all busted up or an ancient artifact of a phone

- likes when you sit on his lap a lot but even more so when you’re facing him

- will rest his chin on your shoulder when he’s behind you

- likes to talk in your ear, makes it more intimate

- absolutely goes head over heels for your laugh

- lives for your moans during sex

- likes when your shirts are a little short or when your dress has a slit at the waist so he can feel your skin when he holds you

- will find any excuse to shower w you

- loves picking you up

- stomach kisser

- likes when you play with his hair

- if you’re reading he’ll ask you to read a little to him because he likes the sound of your voice

- brushes hair out of your face

- has a stupid name for you in his contacts

- likes to kiss ur neck + fuck you from behind

- loves giving and receiving head

- manspreader

- likes to watch you try to get yourself off

- “oh darling, you can’t get there without my help can you? that’s all right, come here, i’ve got you…”

- fucks so deep you can feel him in your tummy

- has made you scream during sex before

- can get you to squirt and he’s very proud of it

- kisses you more than usual if you’re wearing flavored chapstick

- likes to smear your lipstick a bit with his thumb

[j4desblurbs]

holy shit.

𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐒.

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: just some good old fashioned riding with big dick steve

warnings: SMUT 18+. MINORS DNI. swearing, unprotected p in v, mentions of the female anatomy, riding, male & female orgasm

word count: 1k

based on the song “pyramids” by frank ocean.

a/n: this is the first complete smut blurb i’ve ever written, so please bare with! any feedback is greatly appreciated, hope y’all enjoy <3

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐆, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓. 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋.

the sight below you is ethereal. steve harrington, under the glow of moonlight, soft brown locks askew on the pillow, plump pink lips parted, and pupils blown wide with lust. he looks like a fucking god, and you’re more than willing to worship. his large hands find solace on your hips, rubbing soft circles with his thumb. the weeping tip of his cock presses against your clit, causing a small whine to escape your lips.

“come on baby” he encourages, voice dripping with desire. “you can take it.”

his length is unlike anything you’ve ever had before. you could barely fit him in your mouth when you sucked him off, and you were sure it was going to be a challenge for him to fit inside your cunt.

his name comes out in another whine, pleading and desperate. steve can’t stop the smirk that forms on his face. he loves knowing that he’s gotten you watered down to this, the strong, confident girl gone cockdrunk before he’s even slipped it in.

“baby” his voice is a little gentler now, one of his hands moving to stroke up and down your back. “i gotcha, okay?”

you trusted steve enough in every other part of your life to know that those two words were true as could be.

nervously, you plant your hands on his chest, wiggling your hips to get a better position, and his cock teased your folds. it’s a touch that makes up your mind. you need him, all of him, right now.

steve hisses out a raspy “atta girl” as you sink down the first few inches. the stretch burns deliciously, bordering on the line between pain and pleasure. you’ve never felt this full before, and just this bit of him has you whimpering and squirming like crazy.

“good girl”, he coos, tongue poking out to lick him bottom lip. “such a good girl for me.”

“jesus you’re big steve.” you manage between shaky breaths. his cocky smirk intensifies and it manages to make you even wetter, granting you access to slide even further down his cock. a moan escapes both of your lips, and steve’s grip on you tightens. he’s fighting the urge to buck up into you, but he knows you have to do this at your own pace.

“that’s it honey. take it. take it all.”

steve’s praise only spurs you on, sending him further into you bit by bit. the sting was slowly giving way to something warmer, and by the time he’s fully seated inside you, you’re convinced if he barely moves an inch, you’re going to cum.

“god you feel so fucking good” steve groans, squeezing the flesh of your ass with one hand. “s’like you were made for me.”

you moan unabashedly, still adjusting to his size.

“steve.”

he shudders. god you were insatiable and you didn’t even have the slightest clue. his hands go back to resting on your hips, an encouraging and gentle touch that gives you confidence.

“honey” he breathes, sounding just as desperate as you. “i want you to ride me, okay?”

you take a deep breath, before rising off him slowly, whining as you went, before taking his length in you once more. slowly, you rise up and down his cock, familiarizing yourself with the feeling before you pick up the pace.

as you begin to move faster, steve is embarrassed over the thought that he’s not gonna last long. between the way your pussy feels wrapped around him, the way your tits were bouncing with every roll of your hips, he was a goner. you’ve built up a steady rhythm now, the burning stretch long gone and replaced by the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt. the only sounds in the room are both of your lust drunk moans and the sound of your soaked heat.

“that’s it baby” steve purs, his grip on your hips sure to leave bruises. “just like that, just like that.”

when steve starts lightly thrusting back up into you, an electric shock of pleasure courses up your spine. the way you moan his name in return is so pornographic it’s making his head spin.

you’re panting and whining, so lost in the feeling of him, and that ever familiar coil begins to form in your stomach.

“m’ close baby” you breathe out, sinking your palms further into the planes of his chest.

he meets your eyes. “yeah? you gonna cum for me pretty girl?”

steve cants his hips up at just the right angle, and you throw your head back in ecstasy.

“right there stevie, please don’t stop.”

and who would steve be if he was to deny your simple request?

your bodies move synchronously, vibrating with need and your orgasm begins to creep up the back of your neck. when you moan out his name this time, steve knows it’s coming. his pointer and index fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles as he works to bring you over the edge.

“fuck! steve i’m gonna-”

before you can finish your sentence, your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. the feeling coursing through your veins is white hot, burning your every nerve . your mouth opens in a silent scream, body twitching as steve works himself up to his own orgasm. steve chases his high with your name falling from his lips like a prayer, hips stuttering into one final thrust before he cums inside you. aftershocks run through your body as he stills, body falling limp onto his chest.

you lay there for a few minutes like that, just bathing in the afterglow before steve eventually decides to pull out. you whimper at the loss of contact and steve holds back a groan at the sight of his cum still dripping a little bit out of your pussy.

“christ, you’re gonna be the death of me” he mutters under his breath, head shaking side to side as he wanders off to the bathroom. steve hears the sound of your laugh echo throughout the room and he can’t help but smile. when he returns with a damp rag, your heart inevitably warms up.

“you okay?” he asks, gently rubbing the warm cloth against the inside of your thighs.

“never been better” you breath out, a lazy smile spreading across your face.

“good.” steve grins, and leans over to plant the most feather-light kiss on the top of your nose. when it scrunches and you giggle, his heart skips a beat.

“always gotta make sure i’m taking care of my girl.”

[j4desblurbs]

PROFESSOR OBI WAN HCS

obi wan kenobi x afab! reader

hello all and welcome back. i hope you enjoy this one.

warnings: nsfw content (my blog is 18+), talk of professor x student relationship, alludes to oral (fem receiving), piv sex

he smells really nice

like all woodsy and piney and yummy ksjdjdjdfj

wears comfy sweaters and polos and sits on the end of his desk when he’s reading something to the class or asking a question

calls everyone a petname, like darling or love or my dear

has a tea drawer

asks you to stay after class, and then fucks you over his desk

“fuck darling, you feel so good.”

sometimes will look up from whatever he’s doing and stare at you

you’ll make eye contact on occasion and it’s delicious

he brings you your favorite tea when he sees you

praise kink go brrrr

eats pussy all day every day

likes when you pull his hair

loves missionary because he can make eye contact with you and split you open real good

recognizes when you’re not doing very well and quietly asks you if he can help

“i noticed you don’t seem to be feeling too well, love. is there anything i can do? perhaps some tea? if not, you can certainly go to the counselors office and come back to me to go over what you’ve missed. does that sound alright?”

lets people borrow books from his room

sometimes he literally cannot control his moans for the life of him so you have to stop fucking him (😒)

he loves when you sit on his lap

chronic cheek/forehead/hand kisser

bonus: he kisses your hips before eating you out