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#Happy Star Wars Day
bloatedandalone04 · 11 months
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Back To You
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➪the one where anakin is slipping away and needs you more than ever.
Part 1 | HAPPY MAY THE 4TH (had to get this out for today)
Warnings: self deprecating thoughts once again, anakin on the verge of turning evil, angst, fluff, insecurities, mentions of insecurities, mentions of death, urges to kill
Word Count: 4.3k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3
Your reflection stared back at you, your own eyes looking at you with pity.
Poor, lonely Y/n. 
With tense shoulders, you shudder out a deep breath and avert your eyes to the marble of the countertop. 
You hated when your thoughts ran around in your head like this. It didn’t happen often, no, not anymore. You weren’t a teen anymore, you had no excuse to feel like this, yet you just couldn’t help yourself.
Taking deep breaths to calm yourself down, you miss the way Anakin appears in the doorway, his brows furrowed and his shoulders tense, matching yours. “Y/n,” it was as if he knew what was happening, felt the way your own body was attacking itself with a sense of hatred and burden. 
You look back up and meet his eyes in the mirror, a small whine of embarrassment leaving you. “I wish you wouldn’t see me like this,”
Anakin hadn’t seen you act this way in many months, not since you were on the verge of becoming an adult. Your shoulders shaking beyond your control, the crease in your forehead, the quiver in your voice. He hated all of it. 
“Wish all you want,” he said as he stepped into the room. “I still see you.”
Crossing the short distance, Anakin stands behind you, his height towering over yours as you look at each other in the mirror. “You want to know what I see?” You quietly ask him and he stays silent, his eyes giving you a look of warning that told you all you needed to know. No, if you see anything negative about yourself and voice it to him, he doesn’t want to know what you see. You say it anyway. “I see someone unworthy of love, of being cherished. I don’t see a powerful warrior like I’ve been told I am. I’m nothing.”
Ankin places his hands on your waist, his grip firm as he stares you down in the reflection. “That is not true and you know it,” his voice was stern and left no room for arguments. 
But you were far too stubborn for your own good, a trait Anakin saw in himself and one of the many reasons he fell for you in the first place. “But it is true, Ani,” you protested, looking at yourself with a hint of embarrassment and disgust. “Look at me.”
“I am,” his voice was the most serious you had ever heard it, something that makes you promptly stop talking. You weren’t intimated, no, Anakin would never put you in a situation in which he held his power and strength over you, but you were, however, intrigued. So much so you waited for him to continue, a ghost of a frown painted on your lips. “You are so much more than that. Your mind may betray you, but it doesn’t mean it’s right. You are strong and more powerful than you even know. One day you will save this galaxy, and you don’t even know it yet.”
Your lip quivers and you repress showing the chill that runs down your spine. “What if I don’t believe that?”
“You will,” he affirms. His arms wrap around your middle and he leans down so his chin is hovering over your shoulder. You rest your arms over his as you hold eye contact, your sight slightly blurred. “And until that time comes, I’ll be here to remind you just how powerful you are.”
-
One by one, all the happy memories Anakin had with you faded into nothing, his heart cracking each time he felt a part of him slip away. 
His body nearly gave up on itself as he stumbled his way through the temple. One of his hands shot out to catch himself, his palm pressing flat against the wall as he steadied his footing. “Get it together, Anakin,” he muttered to himself, taking a deep breath in hopes to relieve some of the pressure he felt was weighing him down.
It was then when Obi-Wan rounded the corner and saw his padawan struggling to keep himself up right. He was at his side in seconds, his hand wrapping around the younger man’s arm and pulling him into a standing position. “Anakin,” he said, worry lacing his words. “Are you alright?”
Anakin gave him a slow nod, his dull eyes focused on the stone of the floor. He thinks back to his last conversation with you, a full three weeks ago, and his eyes abruptly shut, your words repeating in his head before leaving his own mouth. “I fear I’ve fallen ill,”
Obi-Wan gives him a concerned look, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Take it easy,” he says, noticing the way Anakin refused to show him his eyes and the way his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. “Relax, Anakin. You’re needed for the mission of protecting Senator Padmè and we can’t have you falling weak a few days before you’re set to leave.”
Anakin felt his ears begin to burn at the mention of Padmè, his jaw locking tightly as he lifted his head. He still refused to meet the eyes of his good friend, his shoulder raising quickly and making Obi-Wan’s hand fall off it. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered before walking forward and leaving the older man behind with a worried look.
His strides were quick, his chest heavy with a rage he had never felt before as he opened the door to his room with a rough shove. 
Protecting Padmè? The woman he had not spoken to since the night you left him? Putting his life on the line for the person who was the reason he hadn’t been happy in weeks? The one who helped him destroy the best thing in his life?
Not a chance.
Anakin’s shoulders tensed up as the door slammed shut behind him, his eyes flickering all over the near-empty room. 
He wasn’t as in control as he thought he was, and that much was obvious when he turned the entire place upside down a mere ten minutes after you walked out the door. 
He couldn’t help it, everything reminded him of you.
The thought of staying in this room that had always meant to shield you from the harsh reality by himself was one that kept him up at night. The dark circles that had formed under his eyes the day after you left him had become a seemingly permanent addition to his appearance. 
He almost didn’t recognise himself when he first noticed the deep and dark marks that shadowed his face. He assumed they’re from the lack of sleep he was getting, or not getting. 
He couldn’t sleep without you. He found that out pretty quickly.
After he had finished destroying every piece of furniture in the communal area of the room, he felt his bones ache with exhaustion. His eyes were burning and his hand was sore from throwing anything it could grab a hold of. Yet, as he made his way to the bed, the same one he had been holding you on - if only for a couple of seconds that he wished he could have back - only minutes prior, he discovered that he couldn’t fall asleep. 
His mind wouldn’t turn off, past memories with you flashing behind his eyes at a rapid pace. As he tried to get his body to relax and succumb to the darkness, he had no control over the way his hand twitched in the direction in which you always were, right beside him. Your side of the bed was cold, yet another thing he wasn’t used to as you were always there, for him to hold, for him to hide with. 
Now, three weeks later, and he is no better. He had gotten about five hours of sleep in total during the time he spent away from you, and it wasn’t something he had a say in. 
He wasn’t able to sleep in the bed, that much was obvious after his first failed attempt. After he rummaged through the dresser and grabbed onto one of your robes, he held onto the fabric with both hands. His face buried in it as he fell to the floor, his back pressed to the end of the bed. 
He fell asleep a few minutes after that, a death grip on your robe - one of the few things he had left of you. When he awoke half an hour later, he was met with the still dark sky and a pain in his lower back. 
It didn’t take him long to start tearing apart that dresser.
The few times he fell asleep after that were at random. 
While waiting for Obi-Wan to show up for a day of training, Anakin had fallen asleep against the wall of the meditation room. He was woken up an hour later by another Jedi who looked at him with concern and a bit of pity, something Anakin loathed. 
His sleep schedule consisted of quick naps in the most bizarre places, one being behind the wheel of his ship - that one nearly ended in a fatality for both him and Obi-Wan. Seeing as he was supposed to be the best pilot in all the galaxy, Anakin took Obi-Wan’s lecture without trying to defend himself as he didn’t even know what was wrong with him.
His sleep state wasn’t even a safe space. He had one dream about you, one where you came back and you held him and kissed him and told him everything he needed and had been desperate to hear.
The rest were nightmares. Or nothing at all. A void. 
Anakin felt like a ghost, a shell of who he used to be. 
He wasn’t happy, wasn’t consumed with excitement whenever he was set to fly, wasn’t filled with a sense of pride whenever he successfully completed a quick mission. 
He felt like his body was betraying him, and the fact that he hadn’t seen even a glimpse of you since you left didn’t help at all.
The temple was big, but he didn’t realise it was massive enough to keep you hidden from him for three weeks.
Three weeks.
Nearly four without you.
Anakin was sure that when the one month mark hit, his body would no longer function at his control. It hardly was now, so he was not looking forward to seeing how he would be in a week from now.
He turns right and enters the bedroom, everything untouched with the exception of the broken dresser beside the door. His eyes narrowed on the bed and he felt, what had to be, the hundredth sharp stab that pierced his heart in the past few weeks. 
-
“I’m nervous,” you nearly whispered, your hands running over Anakin’s bare shoulders. A single candle was lit and placed on the nightstand a couple feet from where his body hovered over yours on the bed. The flicker of orange made him look so innocent, so young and carefree, a sight you quickly decided was a blessing to see. “Will it hurt?”
Anakin leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead, his arms tightening around your frame. “Maybe for a bit,” he murmured against your skin. “We don’t have to do this tonight. I don’t want you to feel rushed.”
You shake your head, your nose brushing against his as you did so. “I want to do this, I promise,” your words are quiet and the only sound that fills the dark room. It was just you and him, the outside world blocked by a door and the curtains that covered the window. You had never felt more safe. “I need this. We need this.”
It was true. 
Anakin would be sent away the following morning on what would be his longest absence yet. While you had grown used to his day long missions, this one was said to be no less than a couple weeks. He had never spent that long away from you and he wasn’t coping that well with the thought of leaving you behind. 
The decision to do this tonight was mutual. 
He needed something to hold onto until he returned to you, and you needed the feeling of being completely loved and wanted to get you through the weeks you’d spend without him. 
Anakin nodded, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss before reaching over and taking your hand in his. “Only for a bit,” he said again before the distance was closed once more.
-
Anakin felt the last good memory slip away from him and his eyes darkened, an ache in his jaw as he clenched it again. 
He was going to do the mission; the one where they would be counting on him to keep Padmè out of harm’s way and protect her with his life. 
However, what they didn’t know was that Anakin was now treating this as a form of justice, or, in other words, an assassination.
-
“Y/n,” Obi-Wan greeted as he entered the meditation room. “I’ve finally found you.”
His smile was kind but told you that he wasn’t here to talk about anything good. You return the smile as best as you could, sitting up straighter and holding eye contact with him. “Master,” you say back, brows furrowing when the smile was replaced with a frown. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
The man nodded, his fingers tugging on the sleeve of his shirt in a way that showed he was nervous but was trying to hide it. “It’s Anakin Skywalker,” he said and you quickly looked away. “Something is troubling him.”
Your eyes focus on the floor as you fight the urge to cry in front of Obi-Wan. It would give away the very real fact that you were well aware of what Anakin was going through, and the fact you were in a forbidden relationship with the Jedi. 
Anakin.
You hadn’t heard his name in weeks, cutting off any communication with him and anyone affiliated with him, including the very man standing in front of you. Guilt creeped into you, the same guilt that had plagued you since the moment you left the crying man by himself in the room you no longer felt at home in. 
The weeks you spent without the man you loved were brutal. 
You had been struck with an overwhelming feeling of guilt and you carried it with you every day. Your heart broke every time you heard the hushed whispers of fellow Jedi about how the supposed ‘Chosen One’ was failing to do the simplest of tasks and had become a weak version of himself. One that didn’t show up to important meetings, didn’t give his all on quick and easy missions, and looked like he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep in months. 
The one who looked on the verge of falling to the dark side.
You didn’t want to think about that last one, despite the numerous times you’ve heard it be brought up. Never did you ever think Anakin would become the worst version of himself, become a person he was so far from and forget about everything that made him the powerful Jedi he had been for so long now. 
There was no way it was because of you and how you left things. How could it? How could you mean so much to someone that they’d forget all they worked for, fought for, bled for, just because you were no longer a constant in their life?
It just didn’t make sense to you, but then again, the fact that you even had a sliver of Anakin Skywalker in the first place didn’t make a whole lot of sense, either. 
He was too good for you, too kind and caring and someone who deserved the world. Something you couldn’t give him, no matter how much you wanted to. 
You wanted to give him any and everything he asked for and more, but you couldn’t. And you would never be able to. 
You couldn’t even give yourself the time of day and dedication needed to progress in your life, so how could you possibly help Anakin in any way?
The question had you looking up and meeting the eyes of Obi-Wan once again. “What does that have to do with you looking for me?”
“If I recall correctly, you and Anakin were quite close not too long ago,” he said and you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat and how you wanted to point out just how close the two of you had been. “Is that right?”
You nodded quickly, eyes focusing on the wall behind him. “We were, but not anymore,”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Obi-Wan gave you a look of pity before he continued, “Anakin is a good person, someone who I find myself looking up to. I’m afraid something has happened….something that could lead to his demise.”
That made you stand up, your brows pressing together as you stepped closer. “What do you mean?”
The man hesitated before swallowing harshly. “I’ve been observing him and I’m worried about what I’ve seen so far. He hasn’t been sleeping or focusing. Just this morning I found him against a wall, unable to hold himself up,” he says. “He wouldn’t look me in the eye. I can’t help but fear the worst.”
Your eyes flicker between his. “What are you saying?”
You share a look before he places a hand on your shoulder. “I’m afraid we’re losing him to something he should have never seen or felt,”
-
“Anakin!” Your hand turned the doorknob before you could even think about knocking first. Stepping into the room, you let out a quiet gasp at the sight of destruction. Not a single thing was how you left it, not even the side of the door that faced the inside of the room. It was dented and beaten in, hints of blood here and there that told you exactly what had happened to the wood. 
You stumble your way through the now unfamiliar room and head straight towards the bedroom, where you’re met with a demolished dresser. The rest of the room seemed untouched and you bent down to pick up one of your shirts, fisting the material in your hand. The rest of your clothing was thrown around the floor, some stuck on the corner of the bed that looked like it hadn’t been slept in since you left.
Dropping the shirt, you turn around after coming to the conclusion that the room was empty. You stand outside the door that led to the bathroom, your hand hovering over the doorknob. 
He had to be in there, and that thought had your heart beating rapidly. 
With a firm twist, your fingers press against the door and push. 
Standing in front of the mirror was Anakin, his eyes glossy and staring at his reflection. His shoulders were stiff, his whole body tense in a way that had you swallowing nervously. His hands gripped the marbled countertop tightly, his knuckles turning a few shades lighter as heavy pants left his mouth.
Pushing back a small ounce of uncertainty, you step into the room. He must have been deep in thought as he didn’t notice the door open or your smaller figure enter the room. You were afraid to ask what was going on in that pretty head of his. It had to be something awful to have him this out of it. 
“Anakin,” You say his name quietly, almost to the point of it being inaudible. 
But he heard you. Whatever daydream he was in was ripped away the second your voice hit his ears. His eyes moved from his own and met yours in the reflection, the crease in his brow softening as a shaky breath left his lips. The feeling of relief was short-lived. “You’re not real,” he muttered, not giving you a second glance as his eyes went back to being stone cold. 
It was then when you realised how much you truly meant to the poor boy. You really had no idea that you, of all people, could mean this much to someone, let alone the perfection that is Anakin. 
He was so messed up to the point where he didn’t even believe he was actually seeing you. 
You felt your heart break all over again. “What have I done to you?” You ask, holding back a dry sob as you take a daring step closer. “Anakin…it’s me.”
He only shook his head, his chin tilting downwards as he muttered something under his breath. 
You blink back a tear or two as you cross the room, your hand tugging on his arm. “Look at me,” you nearly cry out, your grip making him turn slightly. His eyes left the mirror and landed on you. The blue orbs softened just a bit and you watched as what seemed to be a million thoughts ran through his head. You reach up and caress the side of his face, your thumb gently stroking his cheekbone as well as the scar that graced his skin. “Look at me.”
The furrow in his brow faded away as his hands left the counter, his body fully turning to face yours. “Y/n,” he whispered, his hand reaching up to wrap around your wrist as he leaned into your touch. 
You let out a quiet hum to let him know that was really you and that you were here, with him. “I’m so sorry,” you say quietly, your thumb continuing to stroke his face while his stroked the skin of your wrist.
His eyes were still glossy and his whole being still seemed as if it was far away. Your other hand grasped his shoulder as you stepped closer, trying to think of what to do to get him to fully come back. 
A delirious grin formed on his lips as he looked at you, still not believing you were actually there. “I missed you,” he murmured, his eyes flickering all over your face before he began to turn back towards the mirror. 
You placed both your hands on his face and pulled him away from whatever trance the mirror held over him. Tugging his head down, you press your forehead against his. “I’m here,” you whisper, reaching one hand down to grab his and place it on your waist. “I’m here and I’m so sorry.”
 Anakin furrowed his brows again, his head shaking as his gloved hand tightened its grip on you. “It’s not…you’re not-”
“I am,” you cut him off, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as if it’ll help stop the love of your life from turning on everything he had going for him. You weren’t sure what to do at this point. Anakin was in denial, seemingly stuck in a very fragile state and balancing on a very thin edge of becoming something he swore he wouldn’t. A tear slips down your face as you brush your nose against his, an act you’ve done too many times to count. “Please….come back to me.”
Whatever had a hold on his mind seemed to let go as you said the words he had been craving to hear, the same ones you murmured to him in the first and only dream he had about you since you left - the same ones he said to you.
He pulled back just slightly, his eyes staring into yours as his face relaxed for the first time in nearly a month. His lip quivered and his eyes filled with unshed tears, his hand that wasn’t on your waist coming up to grip the back of your neck as he pulled you into him.
You wrapped your arms around him as your face pressed against his chest, a sigh of relief and desperation leaving both of you. 
“Angel,” the name falls easily from his lips, his arms tightening around you as if you would disappear at any given second - and he’d be alone again. “You’ve come back to me.”
“I never should have left you,” you say back, your voice muffled due to the sobs you were holding back. “I’m so sorry, Anakin. Please, forgive me.”
His hand slides upwards to cradle the back of your head as he quietly hushes you. “It’s okay, my love,” he says quietly, his mind becoming foggy at the fact that he had you back in his arms. “You’re okay.” He presses his lips to the side of your head, his hand refraining from pulling you back in when he feels you push against him.
“I’m not,” you shake your head, your hands fisting his shirt. “I haven’t been. I feel so bad, Anakin. I hate that I hurt you. The guilt has been eating me alive, I’m so sorry for everything I put you through.”
Your sweet voice was music to his ears and he brought his hand around to the front of your head, where his thumb brushes away your tears as he quiets you once more. “It’s alright, angel,” he says, pulling you close once again. “We’ve found each other again, there’s nothing to be sorry for. We’re okay.”
Before you could nod in agreement, his lips pressed to yours in a gentle yet firm kiss. The action made his own tears fall as he closed his eyes, begging to anyone listening that you’d still be there when he opened them again. “I love you,” you mumbled when you pulled away, your forehead resting against his cheek. “So much.”
“I love you,” he says in return, holding you close and inhaling the scent that only belonged to you - the scent that made him dizzy. “Take me back.” Let me live again.
You nod quickly, leaning up to kiss him again. “It’s you and me,” you say against his mouth, feeling the way his arms wrapped protectively around your middle. 
“You and me,” he agreed, kissing you once again. Forever.
-
Part 3
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alamogirl80 · 11 months
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MAY THE 4th BE WITH YOU!!
Happy Star Wars Day 2023!!
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odinsblog · 11 months
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Happy Star Wars Day! 🖖🏿
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the-cloudy-dreamer · 11 months
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✨ May the 4th be with you ✨
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i know this is not in my usual fandom but I cannot began to explain how much both Star Wars *and* Leia Organa mean to me.
one of the few things I could bond over with my parents, hours of watching and not feeling lonely even if we were in story on a galaxy far, far away and most of all…hope.
hope that no matter how dire things could look like everything will turn out all right! and that meant a lot as a little girl 🖤
anyways I’ll stop being sentimental on main—Happy Star Wars day!!
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saradika · 11 months
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— maybe I just wanna be yours
boba fett x f!eader
Rated E - 1.8k
Tags: fluff and smut, feelings, flirting, dirty talk, spitting, rough PiV, unprotected sex, comeplay, emotional hurt/comfort, references to chronic pain & age, nightmares
Summary - Spending 4 different kinds of evenings in the company of one Boba Fett.
A/N: after I wrote an Obi-Wan fic last year to celebrate May the 4th, @wingofshadow had very kindly asked if I’d consider writing more! So a bit late - but was feeling really inspired to write one for Boba this year 💕
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i.
You lost all sense of time hours ago. Swaying with the smooth, low notes of the band in the corner - wrapped up in the buzz of conversation, the dimmed and flickering lights.
Chin propped up on a palm, eyelashes lowered as you watch. Something easy to do from where you lean against the bartop, trading the stool for a chance to stretch your legs.
Making an idle pass around the room, though your gaze always returns to the middle.
To him.
The easy way he lounges against the stone. A thick arm draped across the curving back, the glint of a golden light above reflecting against the dark shadow of his visor.
It still thrills you.
The feeling in your chest that you wish you had a name for - swooping low, like the music. Rising and swelling until it feels like it's about to burst.
But feelings are dangerous, in a place like this.
With a man like Boba Fett.
Your eyes find him again, unable to help seeking him out.
This time, his helmet tilts in your direction. You can feel a heat rising up your neck, to your cheeks, thinking about him thinking about you.
Joining him, on that throne.
He's confessed he has. When lips loosen late at night. That moment with he's buried in you and the filth pours, desperate for release.
There's a fraction of a second as he holds your gaze. A little tip of his helmet, towards a corner of the room you know well.
A secret message, just for you.
Only for you.
It has you rising - weaving carefully through the crowd. Watching how he moves towards you at the same time - how he's given a large berth. Respect following each heavy footstep, as he is brought your way.
A gloved hand catches your elbow, steering you down a narrow hallway. Out of sight from prying eyes - the hiss as the helmet is removed, tucked easily under an arm.
You move ahead of him, turning in time to just catch the slow drag of his eyes. Not looking away when caught, but smiling instead. The smallest curve of pretty lips, a crinkling of dark eyes.
His voice, as low and smooth as the jazz notes that follow you in.
"There's something I have to look into tonight."
You know better than to ask now. If it's important - he'll fill you in later.
Instead, your head cocks, appreciating that he's telling you. Your own smile lightning up your face, reaching out to touch his forearm.
"Will you come find me, when you're done?"
The look darkens, like there's nothing he'd like more than to do that now. Stepping into your space, a curled fingers tipping up your chin.
Your eyes flutter shut as your lips part, waiting.
The words breathed out, as his own mouth hovers. A teasing promise for later, knowing that the anticipation will only build in his absence.
“Always."
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ii.
The groan you make sounds broken, as it’s forced from your lungs. Your breathing short and sharp with the way he has your thighs pushed back towards your shoulders, each harsh thrust sending sparks skittering down your spine.
Fueled by the way his thumb presses circles into spit-slick skin - teasing right against the spot that has you clenching down hard around him.
You can still picture the way he leaned over you. Soaked from his mouth, from the release he had coaxed from you once already - but that didn’t stop the saliva from pooling on his tongue.
Parting his lips to let it drip onto your cunt, before he was pulling back - hands catching on the juncture of your knees.
Opening you up for him.
Putting you on display, thighs spread wide so he could watch the way his cock slid through the mess. The tip catching on where he fucked you open with his fingers, but you had still gasped when he had worked his way inside.
Filling you in a way that only he can.
His fingers tighten their grip against your thigh. Eyes bright as he watches - taking in how you’re splayed out beneath him, your fingers twisted in the sheets.
Words spilling freely - pent up from the days you’ve been apart.
“Woke up so fucking hard, thinking about you.”
His lips part with a groan, your hips bucking into his touch.
“Was gonna take care of it. But I didn’t want to waste a drop, spilling myself outside of your cunt.”
Teeth grit, a rough noise in his chest when you sigh out his name. That feeling rising again - getting ready to crash over you. Pull you under, muting everything but him and that sweet spot where you’re connected.
“Is that where you want it, princess?”
Your nod feels like it takes ages, mind already hazy and swimming. Tongue swiping over your lips as you try to find the words to answer.
He’s impatient. Pressing, wanting to hear the words himself, “Tell me.”
“Yes,” You manage, “Gods, I want you to come in me.”
A flash of a grin, where he leans over you. Broad chest and the curve of a stomach - forcing himself deeper, until it feels like he’s in your throat.
“That’s my girl.” Boba coos, “Gonna make you come again. Make you clench around my cock while you’re stuffed full of my cum.”
He can feel the way you tighten at his words. The panting of your breath, so close to what you need.
The little warble of his name is enough to tip him over.
“Fuck.” He growls, hips slamming against yours. Eyes dark and fixed on yours, as the thrust goes sloppy - pressing deep, sheathing himself one last time.
“Fuck-”
Fingers still pressing, still pressing - as he gives you what you want.
He always does.
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iii.
There's the mechanical whir as you enter the bedroom. It tells a story, even before you can see the heavy lines in his face and brow - allowing the small dressing droids to remove the painted-gold knee armor.
A strung-tight look to his shoulders, a weariness layering underneath the irritation. You hover - waiting as the nimble fingers take him apart, storing each piece carefully. Until they leave him, before you cross the room.
The way your hands move is familiar, as you lower yourself in front of him. On another night perhaps his thighs would spread, a canting of his hips into your waiting, eager mouth.
But tonight, your thumbs dig into sore flesh. A groan as you press into the muscles near his knee, fingers curving to the soft spot behind the joint.
You know the pain comes. Scars and aches from before, things that still linger from that unspoken time in the pits. Always hiding it so well, the helmet masking each and every expression. The armor covering the movements that come slowly at times.
Never using the droids unless he needs to. Too proud, insisting on strapping the pieces on himself.
He lets out a sigh. Long-held, some of the tension going out with it. You can't do much to help but you can do this - a listening ear as you work through some of the knots. 
"Time has worn away at me, cyare.” 
His tone is self-deprecating, eyes not meeting yours as they lift. As your fingers stop, coming to rest against his thigh. Fingers lacing together as your chin rests on top, fixing him with your own long look.
When they eventually drift back your way, your smile is small. A kiss pressed to the inside of his knee, over the dark jumpsuit.
"It wears away at all of us." You tell him, gentle and coaxing, “But from where I sit, I see plenty that remains.”
There’s a twitch of his jaw at that, the silence lingering. The ache reminds him of the time that has passed. Throwing him into past regrets.
Unable to help wondering what will remain, as more time passes. Forgetting that he's survived and endured - something that was very much worth acknowledging.
Your voice softens, a small frown forming, “Is it really such a bad thing, to grow old?”
Something lingers in his eyes then, as he takes you in.
"No." He concedes, "I suppose it isn’t."
A small smile, as you push yourself to move behind him. Hand running over broad shoulders - still strong,“I can’t turn back time, but I can try to help with the rest.”
Your own small sigh comes then, with your quiet admission, “I wish there was more I could do more for you.”
His head hangs between those shoulders as your fingers press into his neck. As he tells you, his voice low but sure. 
“You do more than enough already.”
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iv.
The ground seems to crumble with each of your steps. Blurry figures flashing by as you race forward, fingers outstretched.
Everything just out of reach.
A voice that yells, but the sound is broken - whisked away as soon as it leaves your lips.
Dread rising, rising, rising-
You wake with a gasp, eyes flying open. Chest heaving like you'd been yanked underwater, something rousing you from your nightmare.
A warm hand cups your shoulder. Squeezing, before brushing down your arm, smoothing over your skin. Pulling you out, when he woke - hearing the sleepy sounds of your whimper.
"-just a dream, cyare. Nothing more." He soothes, voice rough with sleep.
Slowly, your hearing returns over the racing thud of your heart. As your head relaxes back onto the pillow, when you feel him press against you, a strong arm curling around.
He runs too hot sometimes, in the heat of the desert. But right now, with the cold flush of fear, it's welcome. Warming you, like the sun.
Here, you lean into that warmth. Wiggling until you can flip around. Half-lidded, sleepy eyes look back, as you're pulled closer.
You're safe here.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He rasps, as your head shakes.
"No." Your voice is small, "It was just - I don't even know."
Silence stretches, his finger tips tracing patterns over bare skin. The man who’s experienced unthinkable horrors waiting for you to continue, if you wanted to.
It feels silly now.
Just a dream.
Nothing to be scared of.
"I think I was reaching for you. But I couldn't make it. I tried to call out, but I couldn't make any noise."
The fear from the dream is tempered, already starting to fade at the edges. He makes a low sound at your words, a humming rumble in his throat.
"I know you were dreaming," His hand rises to cup your jaw, a thumb smoothing acroess your cheek, "Because that's not going to happen."
He won't let that happen.
You read into his words, spoken so late at night. When he's half-awake and stripped clean of his armor - when those walls come down.
All you can do is nod, that feeling coming back. Starting in your stomach and swelling to your chest, stealing your words in a different way now.
"Now, go back to sleep." He coaxes, as your head presses into his shoulder, "You don't have to worry."
And you believe him. Safe and warm within his arms - breathing him in as the his words wash over you, sleep already tugging at your limbs.
"I'm right here."
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cyare/cyar’ika - sweetheart/beloved
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providence-park · 2 years
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HAPPY STAR WARS DAY - MAY 4TH
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spikybanana · 11 months
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on why obi wan kenobi is not a remus lupin variant
cmon guys. honestly.
(this is a shitpost)
obi wan actually rocked a beard. remus lupin could never.
on that note: I don't know how long remus' buzz cut phase lasted, but I'm pretty sure he never had a rattail
being a jedi master probably required more mental stability and competence than a boarding school prefect. at least you'd think.
obi wan wouldn't have actually fallen asleep in a jedi council meeting. I don't think I could say the same for PoA remus. the man probably barely remembered he's a teacher
despite hating flying, obi wan could actually fly a ship. now you try wrestling remus lupin onto a broom
to be fair despite all the war and death obi wan probably didn't have to deal with monthly body horror
oh and, obi wan was only ostracised for being a jedi in the second half of his life. so he at least had a chance of establishing a stable sense of identity in a stable community of, say, beyond four-ish friends.
only one of obi wan's students turned into a war criminal. remus lupin, on the other hand, taught more than a handful of bad wizard wannabes
let's be honest. remus would not have won in a duel against sirius black.
yes yes of course. obi wan's ex boyfriend was actually a mass murderer. remus was just gaslit and delusional
also r.e. the notorious mass-murderer ex boyfriend: obi wan thought his ex was dead. remus knew he was alive and just wished he were dead
oh oh oh. obi wan actually watched over their son!!!! despite being damp and sad and working poverty wage jobs?! obi wan was there!! and where were you huh remus?? where were you???
obi wan, unlike remus lupin, does not visibly lose all his shit when said ex boyfriend is mentioned.
though he did have twenty years in the desert to calm down about it lmao remus never lived that long
okay so maybe he'd teach the boy and refuse to tell him anything about his parents. but at least he stuck around and did everything he can for the boy! even after he died!! remus just half-arsed it for a year then disappeared again.
obi wan would not have knocked up his ex boyfriend's cousin. he had Good Space Monk morals.
damn I'm running out of things to say. oh yes. obi wan died first. and then got to reunite with the ex in the afterlife so canonical happy ending am I right? wolfstar could never.
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thekingofcrochet · 11 months
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featuring @thekingofcrochet | @sunniedayzxo | @jackscannabinoidreceptors | @kissesfromkenz | @godshideouscreation | @thelusciouslibra | @ogfrankieglam | @subpixie420 | @ftm-mouse | @xhazy-babyx | @burythecarnival
If you're an active SWer and want to join a telegram group for collabs like these then dm @thekingofcrochet, @godshideouscreation, or @jaspervoorhees for more info
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coockie8 · 11 months
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Growing up Catholic as a child means my internal, instinctive response to "May the Force be with You" is always, without fail "And also with you!" :)
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richardarmitagefanpage · 11 months
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Happy Star Wars Day!
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jangobis · 11 months
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may the fourth be with you!
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i thought i'd share this WIP in honor of star wars day!!!
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godempworm · 11 months
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May the 4th be with all of you who absolutely love our savior Obi Wan Kenobi and of course to all who love Obikin and AniObi too 😘😘
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krist-420 · 11 months
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May The Fourth Be With You- Star Wars/South Park
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sweetsweetjellybean · 11 months
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And also with you...
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trixclibrarian · 11 months
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take a Wookie to work day eh ?
may the 4th be with you
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chiaralbart · 11 months
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#MayThe4thBeWithYou with this Star Wars fanart ✨
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