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bi-scottsummers · 2 months

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Hi, hello, just came here to say that I love your fic "trending in Japan". I was wondering if you had headcanons regarding Kenji or Emi or interpersonal relationships and stuff. Many hugs for you.

hi hello, thank you for the encouragement and hugs! After some thought ive realized I do in fact have some hcs about some of the character dynamics in the movie as well as just kenji himself, cause hes captivated my entire brain:

Kenji & Emi

Emi does not have teeth but she does inexplicably have a teething phase. kenji is forced to hide all his (salvaged) fancy cars in the garage bc the corvette's already been chewed to hell and his heart is gonna give out if he has to watch any more classics get wrecked

he reads her bedtime stories. A lot of aesop's fables, because theyre short and fun and hes trying to raise his monster daughter with good morals. emi goes hogwild for these but its unclear if she actually understands what hes saying; kenji's pretty sure she just likes the silly voices he uses for different characters

they go flying together! they go first thing in the morning before breakfast - it helps kenji shake off the grogginess of sleep and emi gets to stretch her wings. shes not able to go very far for very long initially, but as she grows and gets those cardio gainz she almost gets to be quicker than him. they have races and play air tag :)

while she doesnt have the vocal range to speak english herself, it becomes clear that emi does understand it well. (kenji also develops an ear for her chirping/squawks, though body language & facial expressions play a big part in communication for both of them) during her (much later) rebellious phase she'll simply pretend not to know what's being said when kenji is telling her to do something she doesn't wanna do, which frustrates him to no end

Kenji

developed a pretty massive chip on his shoulder after moving to the states. it wasn't just bitterness over his dad staying behind, though that was a part of it. this is canon but he was picked on in school for "how [he talked], how [he looked] and what [he ate]." he felt like he had something to prove to both his father and the world. he threw himself into sports - specifically baseball - and his academics, and he did so well that it forced everyone to shut up about how he was different from them and focus on how he was better than them

^ playing off this: kenji had a bonkers fucking yonkers routine when he was a kid/in highschool. he'd get up hours before school started to practice his swing, go for a ~1hr run, workout, study, etc. He'd go to school, come home, and do it all again. this is exaggerated but my point is that this kid was DETERMINED and had the discipline to see that determination through to the end

didnt have many friends because of all aforementioned things. he had acquaintances, and he was invited to parties and outings and stuff (never went), but he spent most of his free time hanging out with his mom. he never really had a "parents are so embarrassing" phase. he always liked to do anything with his mother: going to the bank, going grocery shopping, watching cheesy telenovelas till ungodly hours in the morning, etc. she was his no.1 supporter, confidant, and best friend

he played for his university's baseball team and got scouted at 19. his mom forced him to finish his bachelor's first so once he graduated with his degree in kinesiology at 21, he was drafted to the dodgers

Kenji & Ami

both of them, up until meeting each other, were totally dedicated to their career (and child) so they had basically 0 time for friends. theyre both borderline losers but theyre juuust good enough at what they do for people to admire them instead of finding them sad and lowkey pathetic

kenji is way more into the idea of being friends than ami is. hes pretty enthusiastic about it; he thinks that they have a kind of rapport, since they share a similar work ethic and are both (unbeknownst to ami) single parents. he calls her to chat abt random things. ami initially isnt superrrr into it; she thinks kenji is kinda lonely and desperate for human connection, & it isnt until her mom points out that she has not spoken to anyone outside of work-related reasons in 10+ years that shes like oh shit, i am also lonely and desperate for human connection. so she grudgingly acquires a friend. theyre both really bad at it

need to clarify that in my mind their dynamic is 95% kenji yapping about work and drama in his personal life (circumventing the 8m baby kaiju hes raising) while ami goes "mhm mhm" and takes notes until kenji notices and is like What are you doing. at which point ami is like...... right . nothing. im listening. and forces herself to put the notepad away. she has a hard time disengaging from the reporter mindset and just hearing something intriguing without turning it into an article. the other 5% are the rare moments where theyre connecting super well - ami's psychoanalyzing the hell out of whatever kenji just said and hes like what are you my therapist. over time she starts opening up to him, too, and eventually theyre comfortable enough to be having philosophical discussions over breakfast just for funsies

before kenji reveals that hes ultraman, ami thinks hes in a gang. he keeps showing up to their lunch "dates" with like bruised eyes and fractured bones and gets all shifty when she tries to ask about what happened. when she eventually confronts him about it, hes so offended that she thinks hed be involved in something like that that he tells her about being ultraman

thats about all i can think of rn, though im sure ill think of more after rotating all the characters in my head for a while. thanks again for stopping in, i appreciate the support :)

#sorry this took so ridiculously long for me to get to #i didnt have too many hcs before i sat down to think about it and i didnt wanna just talk about kenji #honestly. if im being honest. lemme be honest. i find it hard to write for and/or about emi #shes cute asf i loved her in the movie but since she is a literal baby child its difficult for me to get a grasp on her #i can only really think ahead to when she grows up and starts developing a bit more of a personality #anyway. hope this is suffices #ultraman rising #ami wakita #kenji sato #emi sato #mine #asks #anon #trending in japan #entry 2 in the TIJ tag lets goooooooo #just to be clear btw. ami & kenji is a platonic thing to me #not that i hate the idea of them together i just dont feel like they have that sort of chemistry #and anyway (i talked abt this in the notes on TIJ ch.3 but) i lowkey hc kenji as aroace so it doesnt gel w my personal interpretation of hi #but take it as romantic if u want i really dc. theyre silly together in any way

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se-agapo-skywalker · 9 months

Text

The Old Man and the Sea

Flashbacks are italicized

CW: age gap (dilf!Luke Skywalker), oral sex (f!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), unprotected sex, usage of petname "master," mild degradation

WC: 4.4k

"You are no Jedi... nor am I." Luke's back faces you, his solemn eyes cast upon the sea. "I cannot train you."

You reach out to touch his shoulder. "Master, please-"

He flinches away from you, almost recoiling in disgust and shock, all the while keeping his face away from yours. "I already told you. That title no longer means anything to me."

"Then what should I call you? Sir?"

He sighs and shakes his head. "No, I'm not that old..."

"Mr. Skywalker?"

"Too formal."

You pause to think, considering your words carefully. "...How about just Luke?"

Finally, he turns his head to look at you. His eyes reflect a strange vulnerability, sadness and fondness all mixed into one, emotions he tries to keep as hidden as possible. He isn't doing a very good job.

Luke nods, silently, once again casting his eyes down to avoid your gaze. "Just Luke."

Snuggled up into Luke's side, you twirl a lock of his hair around your finger and sigh. His head is leaned back against the pillow, eyes closed, breathing slowly and quietly. You smirk to yourself at the sight of him laying there so peacefully--he's spent to the point of appearing fast asleep.

For a man of his age, his stamina is quite impressive--pinning you beneath him, driving into you at a pace that has you moaning his name over and over--but once he's out, he's out. It's rather cute, to be honest... yet you can't help but wonder if he drifts into sleep so easily because he can't stand to be awake.

You've found that when he isn't doing menial chores, Luke spends most of the day either staring at the sea, walking along the cliffs, or doing who knows what inside of his hut. Perhaps he's meditating, or sleeping, whatever an old Jedi does to pass the time when he so clearly hates his life--you almost feel sorry for him. Almost, as every attempt you make to connect with him is met with disdain or rejection. Usually both.

Still, the Temple Island isn't big enough for you two to ignore each other entirely, no matter how hard he might try. Your paths intercept too frequently, much to his chagrin and your delight. There's something strangely magnetic about him--beneath his gloomy exterior lies the remnants of his grace and discipline, the dignified power of the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order.

It's something you're determined to bring out again.

Luke stirs a bit, shifting in the bed slightly. With confirmation that he's indeed still awake, your hand wanders to his face, delicately stroking his beard.

"One more round?" you ask, voice sweeter than honey. You already know the answer--most likely a no--but it doesn't hurt to try.

He groans softly. "I don't know if I have it in me, starlight." Blue eyes squint open to meet yours, a smile growing on your lips, and he scowls. "What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing, I just think you're cute," you laugh, and he furrows his brow.

"Sweetheart, calling me cute is like calling the sky red."

"But it is red, during the sunset!"

"You know what I mean."

Knowing there's no reasoning with you, Luke relents to your will as you lean over to kiss him. He must think you're impossible--you're certain he does--but that's what keeps on drawing him back to you. At least, that's what stops him from turning you away.

Knocking on the door of Luke's hut, you wince. What were you thinking, coming to him like this, drenched in rain during the middle of the night? He's sure to think you're crazy, if he doesn't already. You shiver as the water continues to pour down, making your hair and clothes stick to your body like a wet tooka as it positively soaks you to the bone--you don't even know why you're here, if you're being honest with yourself.

Finally, the door opens. There stands Luke, your reluctant teacher, the man who's been avoiding your friendship for all this time, looking upon you with annoyance and confusion.

"Why are you here?" is all he says, eyes flicking across your wet form. You scratch the back of your neck self-consciously.

"I... I needed you," is all you manage to say in response.

"For what reason?"

"I don't know." You look down at your feet guiltily. "Something in the Force is telling me to be here."

He scoffs, clearly not believing you, but shakes his head and beckons you over. "Well, come in before you get sick," he grumbles, and you follow him inside as the door shuts behind you.

His hut is simple, not far from what you'd expect the living space of an old Jedi hermit to look like. Old sacred texts are scattered about, and so are his robes; he's currently dressed in simple nightclothes, ones that you briefly find yourself staring at.

No, no, you shouldn't look at him like that--especially not when he's standing right in front of you. But you could've sworn earlier that he looked at you the same way when you stood outside his door, wet clothes clinging to your body... You didn't mean to, well, approach him like that. But here you are, standing in his room and shivering before him as water dripped from you onto the floor.

Seemingly reading your mind, Luke finally breaks the silence--"You know, you should probably change out of those clothes and warm up."

"And change into what?" you ask, cheeks starting to burn.

A quick flash of embarrassment crosses his face, but he quickly conceals it. "I, um... something. This," he says, tossing his cloak to you. "I'll turn around."

You keep your eyes on him as he turns around and awkwardly goes to sit on his bed... and you swear you see him take a pillow into his lap. Slowly, you start peeling off your wet clothes; it's quite the thrill, being this exposed near him, something you'd never anticipate you'd do. If you were in your right mind, you wouldn't--but you aren't, and here you are.

After stripping out of the last of your clothes, you wring your hair out a bit and drape Luke's cloak around your shivering, nude form. It's quite warm, made of thick bantha wool, and it smells like him, although you manage to fight the temptation to bury your face in it. He's right in front of you, anyway.

"I-I'm done," you manage to say.

"Please, tell me... why are you really here?" Luke responds, not even turning around to look at you. "You're welcome to stay until the storm dies down, but if you're here to torment me, don't."

You grab onto the ends of the cloak, keeping them secure to preserve your modesty as you move to sit next to him. Startled a bit by your boldness, he finally looks over at you, and there's something in his eyes you can't quite recognize.

You take a deep breath and exhale. "Look, I don't know why I'm here. I don't know why it's storming, and frankly, I don't know why I'm naked, but here we are. But I think we've both noticed how we can't exactly stay away from each other, no matter how hard we try--how hard you try. I'm not here to hurt you, Luke, I only came to Ahch-To to find you, to see that you're still alive. And now that I know you, I..."

In a move that nearly knocks you off his bed, Luke slowly reaches out with his flesh hand to brush a wet strand of hair out of your face. "I know."

By some strange string of fate, or perhaps by the will of the Force itself, you find your lips meeting his. His beard is rough, scratchy. You wouldn't have it any other way. His lips, apprehensive at first, move against yours rather sloppily, either out of desperation or out of inexperience--although you wouldn't fault him for either. It's not like you're particularly experienced, you never quite had the time, and you aren't opposed to the two of you learning together. The student becomes the master, the master becomes the student...

"Master," you breathe out, "please."

Luke's lips trail from your lips to your jaw, and then to your neck, pressing plenty of ticklish kisses in his wake. His hands move to gently grip the side of your face and back of your neck, careful not to mess with the cloak. Part of you wonders if he ever will, if he's willing to go that far, perhaps even in this sitting. A Jedi would show restraint; yet he is one no longer.

In what can only be interpreted as him sensing your thoughts, Luke stops his advances to look at you, lustful eyes now showing with worry. "Are... are you sure you want this?"

You grab his mechanical hand--you quite like the feeling of the flesh hand on your neck--and bring it to the fastener of the cloak, not undoing it, but letting him know it's an option. "More than anything."

Luke's change in demeanor from grumpy to surprisingly gentle is intoxicating, shocking you in the best way possible--you knew this side of him was still there, you just knew it, and you're so glad you finally have confirmation of it. Peering over, however, you try to get a glimpse of the other confirmation of his affection that you seek...

Just as Luke begins to fiddle with unfastening the cloak concealing your body from him, you slip your hand between the two of you, first to carefully grip his thigh as you lean in to kiss him again, moving your hand further and further until-

"Stop," he interjects, grabbing your hand.

"I-I'm sorry, Master, I-"

His gaze softens, guiltily. "No, it's not you. I'm not ready for that--not yet." Flesh hand reaches up to cradle your face. "I want this to be about you. I want to make up for how cruel I was."

You bring the hand to your lips, kissing the palm, silently accepting his proposal to apologize. The Luke you first met on that cliff all those months ago is near unrecognizable--never before would you have expected him to ever apologize to you, let alone be this communicative with you. Well, communicative by Luke standards. From what you’ve heard of his past reputation as a Jedi, all those stories and legends about his vast accomplishments, he had always been quiet, guarded, only now amplified by his guilt in exile. But he’s trying, that much is clear to you.

“Do you want me to continue?” Luke finally says, breaking the silence with a rare show of humor. Smiling and nodding into his palm, you give it one last kiss, relinquishing your control over it.

Hands return to the fastener, and you feel your heartbeat increase as you're finally hit with the realization that this is going to happen. You have no reservations about it, you've fantasized about sleeping with him for quite some time now, but you must admit the actuality is a bit frightening--and absolutely thrilling.

You want this. Luke does, too, if the totally unsubtle tent in his pants has anything to say about it. But something tells you he's just as nervous as you are--perhaps he's worried about being out of practice, or, if he had previously pursued the path of celibacy, he's worried about having no practice at all. Either way, you don't mind, truly. All you want is him.

Finally, in one swift motion, the fastener is undone. Letting out a shaky breath, Luke begins to pull the fabric of the cloak from your shoulders, ever so slowly, exposing inch by inch of your bare skin to him. As the fabric pools at your waist, you shiver at the feeling of the cool air hitting your slightly damp skin. He notices, instinctively reaching out his hand to touch you--the sudden contact and warmth makes you jump.

"Sorry," Luke whispers, unable to look anywhere besides your face.

"Don't be... please."

Now is his chance to ravish you with his eyes, finally gazing upon--and practically devouring--the beauty that has been hidden from him for far too long.

"Stars, you're... you're incredible."

You blush, both out of pride and bashfulness, as Luke's eyes continue to trace your figure. He stares at you for quite some time, not daring to touch you aside from the hand he has gently caressing the flesh of your waist. It isn't until you grab said hand and move it to the swell of your breast that he finally gets the nerve to actually feel you.

Fingers trace around the soft skin of your nipple, coaxing the little bud into a hardened peak as Luke pinches it ever so slightly. He squeezes your breast, firmly but not painfully, and before you can even register what is happening, his mouth is on you. Beard hair tickles your skin as he plants an open-mouthed kiss at the center of your chest. Kissing, licking, and sucking, he marks his journey through the valley of your breasts by leaving your skin raw and marked--claiming you as his own.

You let out a high-pitched gasp as Luke's lips attach to your nipple, alternating between sucking and flicking with his tongue before switching to do the same to the other. He does this multiple times, only stopping when he leaves them visibly puffy and swollen, with you shuddering and moaning softly at the loss of his touch. As he had worked on you, your hands had found their way into his hair, carding your fingers through and tugging at it softly--he nearly bit you in response, and given the effect on him, you swore he almost liked what you were doing more than you liked what he was doing. Almost.

Your hands move from Luke's hair to cradle his face. He looks up at you nervously, waiting for your reassurance or your approval, hoping he hasn't done anything to upset you.

In a moment of boldness, you say, "Oh, I like that... there's just another place I think I'd like it even more."

Icy blue eyes widening, he nods slowly, taking in a deep breath as he prepares to obey your command. Gently pushing you back, he lowers you onto his bed, laying your head on his pillow--and he pauses.

"Are you sure you want this?"

Your first instinct is to pout, but you don't. He's very likely entirely new to this, and nervous about the fact, so the least you can do is have some grace. Reaching out for his hand, gently ghosting your fingertips over his, you tell him, "I want this. I want you."

With nothing more than a silent nod, Luke finally lifts the remainder of the cloak off you and pulls your thighs apart. His breath hitches at the sight of you--so tight, so wet, glistening in anticipation for him. Him.

Reading his emotions--you're becoming a lot better at that under his tutelage--you smile at him coyly through your eyelashes. "It's for you, Master. All for you."

You flutter and clench at the way Luke breathes out, groaning slightly. After a moment of just staring at you, piercing blue eyes locked onto your beautiful, beautiful core, he ducks his head to get closer. Whatever nervousness he had before has almost completely melted away, starting with light kisses to the inside of your thighs as he pries you open even more. You squirm ever so slightly beneath his touch, one that starts out hesitant but grows more and more eager, the rough hair of his beard nearly rubbing the skin of your thighs raw.

Luke pulls away, just for a moment, his voice deep and gravely. "Let me take care of you."

You shudder at the feeling of his breath on you. But you aren't prepared for what follows--the feather-light poke of his wet tongue, slowly licking a preliminary stripe from hole to clit as he slicks you with a combination of your own wetness and his spit. You had wondered, dreamed when this day would come, and now that it's here, you find yourself melting so readily at his every move.

Noticing the effect he has on you, Luke tentatively wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face so he can taste you more deeply. The new angle has you situated to where you could very well begin grinding on his face, and you have no doubts that he'd let you. This is what he wants--to be needed, to please, to do something, anything right. To have you spread out so beautifully before him is a miracle of the Force itself. He'll do his best to prove he deserves it, as much as he thinks he doesn't.

Alternating between gently probing you with his tongue and languidly exploring the contours of your folds, Luke's lips finally make their way to your clit, where he gently begins sucking. For a man who most likely has no idea what he's doing--although he would never admit it--he sure seems like he does.

Your hand instinctively makes its way to his hair again, albeit this time with far more urgency. Arching your back into him, you pull unapologetically on his greying locks, eliciting a deep groan from him.

An idea enters your mind.

"You like this, Master?" you moan, maneuvering to look at him working between your legs. His eyes flick up to meet yours. "You like finally being useful to someone?"

Your words seem to ignite a fire within him. Without even giving you a moment to process what's happening, Luke's mouth leaves your clit--drawing out an absolutely pathetic mewl from you--and he pulls your legs around his waist, lifting your hips off the bed. Using the Force, he swiftly pins your hands above your head, leaving you fully exposed and at his mercy.

"You think I'm finally useful, huh?" Luke practically growls, "Who are you to judge?"

You can feel his hardened cock brush against your sensitive core from beneath his nightclothes, and, desperate for friction to satiate your hunger, you try to rock your hips against his. But he won't have it--holding your legs still, he keeps you in place with an iron grip.

"Before I show you how useful I can be, you must learn patience. Now be still."

Luke's stronger mechanical hand--still gloved, which only adds to the allure--keeps a hold on you as his flesh hand moves to free himself from the confines of his pants. After a brief moment of fumbling where you pretend not to notice, he manages to pull down his waistband, and out it springs.

And it's... a lot. A lot more than you expected. Where you were eager to take him before, desperately aching for him to be inside you, you can't help but feel a bit nervous. Still, you can't take your eyes off him--large, thick, nice and veiny with a pink tip...

"Is this alright?" Luke asks, his voice low and husky, already starting to slowly drag it across your folds. Your body jerks slightly when the tip bumps into your still-swollen clit, but he's too busy lubricating himself with your wetness to notice. "Well?"

"Y-yes... I need you, Master, please," you practically beg.

Smirking to himself, he finally grants your request. Aligning himself with your entrance, he ever so slowly presses in, eyes screwing shut in the process as a low grunt escapes his throat.

"Maker, you're tight..."

You throw your head back and whine at the stretch. Luke is so much--almost too much--filling you in a way you never thought was possible. It stings slightly at first, but it's such a delicious feeling, one you never want to go another day without.

After giving you a moment to adjust, Luke's eyes meet yours--gently questioning, but still clouded by his need for you--and you signal for him to start moving. Slowly drawing himself back out, he starts a steady pace of deep thrusts, although they're a bit shaky at first. Amidst your ecstasy, you forgot that this may very well be his first sexual encounter--something he's doing a very good job of hiding.

In truth, it doesn't bother you at all. Luke sure keeps you on your toes--the more the night progresses, the more you learn so many seemingly conflicting things about him... and the more you realize you never really knew him at all. Perhaps no one did. He can be stubborn, and gentle, and firm, and vulnerable, a million different things all wrapped into one. And, slowly and surely, you'll peel back those layers to reveal who he truly is.

In the meantime, what Luke does show you is just how pent up he is--he isn't even fully out of his clothes, and he's already fully erect and fucking you into his mattress. The noises are borderline obscene, both the creaking of his bed and the squelching of where your bodies meet, with him loudly sliding in and out of you. While he was rather slow at first, he's since picked up the pace, snapping his hips against yours with a bit more fervor. If you hadn't known any better, you'd say he's just about as virile and libidinous as a juvenile fathier.

You moan and write beneath Luke, your hands still pinned above your head by the Force. After all his talk about its sacred rules and how one must respect and fear it, you truly never expected him to utilize it in such a way--but, knowing your Master, you doubt he cares. He looks down at you with those heavy eyes, his gaze filled with emotions you can't quite describe or even begin to understand. He's quiet, oh so quiet--you can't exactly say the same about yourself--that if it weren't for his borderline frantic rutting, you might not have been sure of his enjoyment.

Catching on to your concern, Luke reaches down with his flesh hand to reassuringly stroke your skin, gently tracing from your thigh to your hip, across your stomach, and all the way to the swell of your breast. Your nipples are still puffy and sore from his relentless sucking and pinching, skin covered in the evidence of where his beard had scratched you. He feels a bit guilty, having marked you up so thoroughly like this, yet he also has a strange sense of pride at how you let him. If things go your way, you'll let him again and again and again--until your hunger is satisfied, which you're sure it never will be.

For as much as Luke is thoroughly attracted to you, however, he can feel his hunger start to reach its peak. Whether it be through the Force or your own pleasure, you can sense this, too, and it only serves to bring you into the early stages of orgasm as well.

"M-Master, I-," you whine, not even able to finish your thought as Luke brings his hand back up to rub your clit. He may be stubborn, and grumpy, but he is by no means selfish, especially not as a lover. Like with all things, he's determined to do this right. And he does--each thrust of his hips and tight circle rubbed by his thumb pushes you closer and closer, until finally you're pushed off that cliff and engulfed by the force of your orgasm. Twitching and spasming, legs shaking, you cry out as it overtakes your senses so spectacularly.

Luke watches you, completely in shock that he actually managed to do this--although you knew he would. Feeling you clench around him so deliciously is enough to motivate him to follow suit. Speeding up his pace one last time, positively hammering into you, he chases his own orgasm sloppily, desperately. Perhaps he hasn't had one in a long time, hasn't even had the desire to touch himself, so having you here to offer him some much needed relief truly is a godsend.

You're too blissed out and trembling in the aftershocks of your own orgasm to notice the way his hips stutter, finally stilling as he spills thick ropes of his seed inside you. In that moment, neither of you really care about the consequences--you don't think anything could happen, anyway--nor do you even really pause to contemplate them.

Luke stands before you, panting and slightly dazed, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. Lowering your legs and pulling out--hot, white liquid spilling out of you as he does so--he adjusts his clothing and finally collapses beside you.

"That was, I..." you start, covering your face with your now-freed hands. "What are we now?"

Luke sighs. "We're something, I guess... something the Jedi of old wouldn't approve of." A glimpse at his old humor appears as he winks at you. "But they aren't here now, are they?"

You open your eyes to the sight of Luke asleep in your now shared bed. His hair is sprawled out on your pillow, long-lashed eyes still shut as he snores ever so lightly. The morning light bathes his sleeping face in a surprisingly lovely way, illuminating the soft, vulnerable side of an otherwise stoic and dignified Jedi master. His arm is still around you, mechanical hand resting at the small of your back--he still prefers to touch you intimately with his flesh hand, but by instinct, he'll use his cybernetic. You don't mind one bit, and he knows this. It brings him peace. Hence where he is now: entangled with you, beneath your covers, mind somewhere off in the realm of dreams.

"Oh, Skywalker..." you whisper, careful not to wake him. You can't tell whether you're talking to him, or really just talking to yourself. It isn't important. Taking a moment to pause, to think, you take a deep breath and say it--"...I love you."

Luke stirs, and you wince. Was it too soon? Is that not how he sees your relationship? He could wake up any minute and reject you and-

"Love you, too," he murmurs, not even opening his eyes, face still buried in his pillow.

Relief washes over you, but so does a strange new feeling... surprise? Excitement? Fear, even? No, no, it can't be anything bad... So you decide to accept it for what it is: something you can't explain, yet something that brings so much hope, so much meaning to your life. And, for the first time in a long time, you're happy--and he is, too.

#my fic #dilf luke friday #dilf!luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker smut #luke skywalker x fem!reader #luke skywalker x afab!reader #oops this kind of ran away from me. hence why it's so long lol #what is this trend involving me writing sequels smut when i initially hated the sequels... character development?#i can singlehandedly fix grumpy old man luke via *cough* alternative means #the ending is kinda ass but whatever lol

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