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#luke skywalker one-shot
officialfoxsquadron · 5 months
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this rough magic / i here abjure
nearly 2.6k words | my ao3
rating: mature
cw: depression, suicidal ideation
summary: Luke Skywalker cuts himself off from the Force.
His eyes are closed as he submerges his X-Wing below the water. It will be the last great display of Luke Skywalker’s Force ability, and he will not see it. He can sense it, feel the water filling the ship’s lungs and choking its engines. 
Better this way, he reckons. His X-Wing is a relic of a younger time, a younger man. It ferried him across the stars, survived countless scrapes with TIE fighters.
The galaxy has fallen apart, and a new generation will be sitting in the cockpits of X-Wings, watching as friends and comrades die, laughing as they narrowly escape death themselves. Poe Dameron, who Luke had once held in his arms on Echo Base, a tiny, red thing with jet-black hair, was apparently leading a squadron himself.
He felt like vomiting.
He opened his eyes. There it was, the drowned corpse of his ship. Even from this height, he could still see the slot where mechanics used to lower in Artoo. He closed his eyes again, took a deep breath.
Artoo. The droid would forgive Luke. Eventually. He had left Artoo with part of a map, some half-crazed fantasy that the galaxy may still have need of him. The fantasy had left him as he navigated alone to Ahch-To.
He was not a young man, as his body so often reminded him. In all his travels, he had not yet found a Force ability that could fully stop the slow, methodical march of time. Once, he could have made the long journey with ease, and still find energy to spare. Once, the thought of flying into the Unknown Regions, to the first Jedi temple, a place he had only visited in visions, would have thrilled him.
There was only one thing left to do now. Cut himself off from the Force, and wait for death to finally claim him. It would take constant effort to maintain. Ahch-To was a place teeming with the Force, an isle of strange music and strange creatures. The planet had twin suns-an irony he may have laughed at once. He found no joy in it now. The planet was too far away from its suns for any dry heat or sandy dunes, things that could have offered him some nostalgic comfort. Rather, it was a wet planet. Cold, and wet, with salt sprays and mossy, craggy rocks. The kind of weather that chilled your very bones, that offered you no escape from its dreariness.
He sat on a rocky outcropping, watching the little birds as they squawked closer to his X-Wing, curiosity overtaking their fear. The Lanai, the nuns who had been guarding this place for millenia, hardly took notice of his presence. They seemed to know his intentions, and left him to it.
Hmph. Better for it , he thought. He wondered how long the creatures lived. Time worked differently here. It was a place that had aged thousands of years, and yet not at all, where one could live thirty lifetimes in a day, where one could remain the same until the end of time. There was one person, maybe, who could have figured out how it really worked, how the island’s clock ticked, who could sync themselves to its beating heart. But she was long gone.
He took a bite of his ration bar, one of his last. Food seemed ample enough, thankfully. Not like the marshes of Dagobah, where he learned to be grateful for slimy frog stew. He didn’t mind fish. He could survive on fish.
He finished the bar, set it aside, and closed his eyes, steadied himself.
Yes, this work would take constant maintenance. Truthfully, though, the act itself would be the easiest thing in the world.
“Don’t do this.”
He opened his eyes. A noise escaped his throat, part laughter, part groan. “Go away.”
“Son.”
What a sight they must make. His father always appeared to him as younger. Not the old man he had died as, bitter and sad, but during the Clone Wars; young, handsome. He understood why. He doesn’t want to remember Darth Vader either. He wondered if the Lanai could see the twenty-something war hero lecturing his son, a man now in his forties. 
“Father, please. I’m not changing my mind.”
Luke had forgiven his father, yes. He would always fight for his goodness, yes. But it was in moments like these he wished desperately to speak to his mother, to be comforted by her. He had always respected his father. He even liked his father, sometimes. But he did not want to hear Anakin Skywalker’s thoughts on this matter.
“Then at least let me spend these last few moments with my son.”
Luke blinked. His father’s face may never have aged, but his eyes had. He looked tired, like he had on the Death Star.
They shared that, at least.
Anakin sat next to him. Luke glanced again at his submerged X-Wing.
He left Artoo behind. Artoo, who was the only one left who had known his father during the Clone Wars. Who would recognize the ghost seated next to him.
“This is drastic, Luke,” Anakin said, after a moment. “Cutting yourself off from the Force-”
“I see no other way forward.” This was not something he took lightly. It had come to him during meditation. He had plenty of time on the long flight from Ossus, and even before he was Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master, legend , he found the vast expanses of hyperspace comforting. It was easy to ruminate on the universe when the stars streaked around you.
The names of his dead students beat against his heart, dark and foreboding.
Hennix. Tai. Voe. Each syllable a bass drum, each name another failure.
“Do you know their names? The children from the Temple?” He did not need to specify which ones. 
Anakin nodded. “There was one. Reva. She came after you when you were a child. Otherwise, no. I can’t remember their names. Only their faces.”
He saw his student’s faces too, bloody, half-charred, smoking. And the smell. Yes, he had warned his students against violence; had told them their lightsabers were only to be used in self-defense. Truthfully, his warnings were a desperate plea. He had hoped they would never have to smell it, the smoking, putrid, sickly-sweet smell of burning flesh. It was the smell of Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, burning on Tatooine. It was the smell of his right hand being ripped from his body, seconds away from when his father first revealed his true self. It was the smell of his father’s corpse, burning as the rest of the galaxy celebrated. Now, it was the smell of his greatest failure. 
Ben had accompanied him on enough adventures to know his weaknesses. When he called down the lightning storm, it triggered that rising feeling in his belly, a dreadful familiarity. He could do nothing but submit to the pounding in his head as his body convulsed involuntarily, as his legs gave way and he fell to the ground. His nephew’s lip curled in victory, and Ben started down his dark path.
When his seizure broke, he was greeted by that smell, the sight of ash and smoke, his life’s work razed to the ground, and the burning corpses of children, the only children he ever had. Rage narrowed his vision, and all he could think of was driving a lightsaber through his nephew’s heart.
His nephew. Leia’s son. That was who he wanted to kill.
He thought of her as he studied his father’s face. Leia, his sister, Anakin’s daughter, who he had tortured mercilessly, never sensing the shared blood between them. He couldn’t see his daughter, but he could commit genocide in her name.
He was disgusted. He was angry. He was confused, in a way he hadn’t been for a long time. He felt half a child again, wondering why tears pricked at his aunt’s eyes when she spoke of his mother, or why his uncle grumbled with distaste at his father’s name.
Of course his father appeared to him now. His anger was his father’s anger. And his father had a way of opening old wounds, of cutting through scar tissue. No wonder Leia never forgave him. Even now, he was a hard man to forgive.
There was only one way forward.
He had to make it stop. He couldn’t trust himself anymore. His mind wasn’t what it was.
Not for the first time, he envied the dead. His father did not have to endure a human body any longer. 
“Did you ever speak to Ben?”
“You know I didn’t.” Anakin rarely appeared to anyone besides Luke. His father paused. Then-
“Do you think it would have changed things?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. It seems he idolized Darth Vader. And I missed it.”
“It’s not your fault,” Anakin insisted.
“My seizures have been getting worse.” Easier to speak facts, rather than stories. “I tried to contain his darkness. I thought I could. It wasn’t enough.”
“It was enough for me.”
“And it wasn’t for him.”
“You place too much on yourself.”
“Because too much has been expected of me!” Luke’s voice thundered against the rocks. “Luke Skywalker, the great Jedi Master. Your son.” He hissed out the word, the great burden of his life. “Truthfully, Father, what would you do? If it was your apprentice?” He barked out a laugh. I wish Ben was here. How many times would he think that same sentence in his life?
“I don’t know,” Anakin answered honestly.
“Of course not.” He held his head in his hands, felt tears well in his eyes, more from frustration than anything. “I am glad you’re here, Father. But you will not sway me from this path.”
His father blinked, nodded. “I am proud of you. Both of you.”
“Thanks,” Luke grumbled half-heartedly. He felt too old and too young all at once.
What was there left to say to his father? It had been twenty years since he last saw him in life, and they had plenty of time to speak to one another. He had yelled at his father, raged at him for all of the hurt he caused. He cried to his father, about the ones he had lost.
What a curse our blood is . He could call down the heavens, commune with a thousand generations of Jedi masters, but he couldn’t speak to the ones he needed most. His mother, his aunt, his uncle, his wife, they were all lost to him, sand slipping through his fingers.
Feelings came in flashes-guilt, anger, sadness-but they left just as quickly. He struck his nephew down, but he couldn’t kill him. Not because he didn’t want to. Because when he saw Ben Solo trembling beneath him, bleeding, clutching to his weapon, he didn’t feel anything at all.
He walked away from his nephew and his band of fanatics, leaving them to their smoking wasteland. He left behind the droid who had been his closest friend. He left behind his twin, the woman he shared a womb with. He left behind Han, his brother.
He looked at his father, who was gazing out across the sea, at the twin suns setting. He understood why, as Darth Vader, his father wore a mask. Like his son, he had never perfected the ability of hiding his emotions. His father wasn’t Obi-Wan, the great diplomat, as comfortable in a seedy bar as a grand stateroom. And he certainly wasn’t Padmé Amidala. He had never seen a picture of his mother where her smile reached her eyes. All that was left of her was stiff formality.
A ghost with tears in his eyes was a strange thing.
“I always loved the water,” Anakin said. His voice sounded like an old man’s, rickety, weary. “It seemed so inviting.”
He knew his father was thinking of Varykino Villa, where he and his mother had married. He had been there himself-like his father, he visited Varykino as a young man, idealistic and in love. When he and Lottie were smuggled into Naboo, intent on liberating the planet, they landed on Varykino’s secluded shores. They were greeted with a palace in disrepair, a haunted house masquerading as an insurgent base. He too, had spent long hours gazing at the water, dreaming of a life he could have lived without war.
Luke followed his father’s eyes. The suns had finished their journey below the horizon, and Ahch-To’s waters had turned black and blue.
How easy would it be, to slip into the blackness, dash his head against the rocks, let his mighty Skywalker blood mingle with the water, return to the primordial place where his father was conceived. Perhaps he could be young again, like his father. Perhaps he could see his wife again. Perhaps he could meet his mother.
“It’s time,” Luke said, voice clear despite the howling wind. “Goodbye, Father.”
“Goodbye, son.” His father’s eyes met his. Tears fell down Luke’s cheeks.
Luke closed his eyes.
This will be the hardest part, he lied. After this, things will be easier.
He saw stars whizzing before him, lines of spacetime burning blue against the darkness. His physical body dissolved, and he was nothing and everything all at once. A golden cord of light unspooled from his core. It wove itself into the very fabric of the galaxy, light and darkness in equal measure.
He reached out. The island roared, a great and terrible sound. Images flashed before him, too many to count, too many lives, too many memories. Rocks began to tumble off of the cliff. His father’s apparition is nothing more than another star blowing past.
Luke Skywalker inhaled creation and exhaled destruction. Stars and golden light and terrible darkness danced around him. He touched the part of the cord attached to himself.
For one last moment, he allowed himself to feel.
A young student smiles as the rock next to them begins to lift. Luke looks on in pride. His nephew looks on in envy, unable to lift his own.
There aren’t enough painkillers on Echo Base. When Shara Bey gives birth, Luke can hear her screams from the hangar bay. When Poe Dameron enters the galaxy, crying as passionately as his mother, an entire army sighs in relief.
The cords of light shook, as if plucked, the strings of a harp. He watches his wife’s skirts twirl around her as she dances to the music of the universe, a tune which only she seems to hear. They are on a planet called Ossus. She is nineteen. He is twenty. Time slows. It speeds up. It stays the same. It does not matter. Lottie hikes up her skirts, and begins to run towards the house, her beaming, lopsided smile sharp and comforting as moonlight. They are half-wild here, letting their hair grow long and their touches linger. They have never been happier.
A wizard drops off a boy in the desert. The man and woman promise to love him, and they will. The wizard nods. For the first time since Polis Massa, Luke’s cries soften when Beru holds him. He knows he is safe.
The Jedi have ripped a family apart, but what choice did they have?
They could only make the best of what they were given.
“Luke.” Leia’s voice was raspy, tired.
“Leia,” he said, breath trembling. “I’m sorry.” You deserve better. Better than all of this.
He reached for the weapon at his belt, ignited its green flame. He grasped hold of the cord, and cut.
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engagemythrusters · 1 year
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the obscene amount of chronic pain Luke Skywalker must face...
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forcemeanakin · 11 months
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𝗙𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 ('𝘀 𝗱𝗮𝗱) - 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮
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•WARNINGS: Semi-smut. Age gap !!! Infidelity kink !!! (you’ve been warned, so if you do not agree pls leave because I’ll delete any hateful comments about this). Dirty talk, teasing in a public space, voyeurism, make out session. Mentions of an unhappy relationship/divorce/troubled marriage. 
Pairing: dilf!Anakin Skywalker x female!reader.
Series Summary: Luke takes you home for Life’s Day. On the edge of giving up on you two, Skywalker manages to light up a fire inside of you again. Problem is… wrong Skywalker.
Part Two Summary: After your little moment with Mr. Skywalker last night, you’re determined to persuade your father-in-law into fucking you. Right on the dinner table with everyone else around. Including your boyfriend. 
Word count: 3.5K.
Link to Part One
A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao. 
I’m super excited to announce that I’m very motivated to continue the journey of this pairing, so I’ll be turning FYBD into a series! :) but please be patient! I don’t usually deliver short fics, that’s why it takes me so long to post ! (also look at me trying to polish my themes, omg who am I?)
NEXT PART WILL BE PUBLISHED ON SATURDAY !!!! <3 Consider this as a Part 2.1. If you wanna be tag on it, leave me a comment below :)
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“Alright, everyone gather at the table! Dinner 's ready!” Padmé yelled, placing the last set of plates while Leia dropped the center piece. 
“Sugar, you look like a million bucks.” Luke complimented your outfit while you finished up accessorizing, hiding your eye roll by clipping your earrings. 
Last night, you eventually made it to bed with him, feeling uneasy the rest of the night. You gave Luke your back, refusing to cuddle or respond to his arms wrapped around your waist. Tossing and turning, every time you shut down you dreamed about Anakin and his lustful orbs. And, unlike someone with common sense, you didn’t feel guilt from your forbidden target. No, it riled you up even more. 
Being spooned by your boyfriend while thinking about his dad. 
The naughtiness of it was a thrill you didn’t want to stop chasing.
“Is that dress new?” From the moment you woke up to this very instant, Luke hadn’t stopped apologizing and drowning you in compliments and demonstrations of affection.
Yet you still hadn’t responded to him with the same tenderness, prolonging your fight. The reality was that you had already forgotten all about the “slut” bomb, but staying angry at him somehow justified daydreaming about fucking Anakin. 
“Thank you.” You replied coldly, checking yourself one last time in the mirror, turning around to make sure the back side wasn’t wrinkled.
You had chosen the tight, long, black dress even before making it your personal mission to seduce your boyfriend’s dad. You were now thanking Y/n from the past for packing something so flattering and form fitting to this particular event. It’s not like you were out of place, everyone was dressing up as well. 
“Guys! I’m not calling you again!” Padmé rushed. 
“Y/n I don’t want us to keep fighting… Not this weekend, please?” Luke caught your attention by trapping your hands inside his palms. “I’ll do better. Be more adventurous for you…” He murmured, caressing your arms with tenderness. Arching an eyebrow at your cleavage, “Maybe make it up to you tonight?”
Disappointment settled in your chest at the prospect of not spending the night with Anakin.
“Sure.” You faked a smile. “I’d like that.”
“Great.” He kissed your cheek, missing your horrorized face. “Now, after you, m’lady.” He exaggerated a bow for you to walk in front of him.
You snorted, “You’re such a dork.”
Luke escorted you to the table, pulling your chair to sit right in the middle of him and the empty head of the table. Right in front of you was Padmé, with a gorgeous light blue gown and beside her was Leia, who was trying to sit down Han at the other head of the table.
“I don’t want to sit right in front of your dad!” He whispered-yelled, being harshly pushed by his girlfriend to sit his ass down. To be such a tiny person, she sure was strong.
“Try to bond!” She whispered back, fanning herself so the sweat wouldn’t ruin her makeup.
“I'll get food poisoning” He huffed, crossing his arms in a childish manner. “And he’ll puke in my face.” 
You couldn’t help but giggle, accepting Padmé’s offering of a glass of wine while observing Han’s pout.
“Easy for you to laugh, newbie.” He scoffed with his usual feistiness. “Could you please do something despicable so he hates you instead of me?”
Oh, you sure had done something to scare him off. 
After he practically ran away from you at full speed, you hadn’t seen him all day. Leia and Han adopted you the whole morning, taking you to pick up some stuff for dinner and showing you around the area. Luke joined in at lunch time, after dealing with a way-too-long call from his friend Din. And even when you came back to the house, Anakin was secluded in his little cave, his personal workshop, in the back of the house and hadn’t showed up at all. 
“Y/n, love that dress, you’ll have to lend it to me.” Leia complimented mid sip.
“Manners, Leia.” Padmé scolded her, head moving in disapproval as she set her napkin on her lap.
“You can borrow it whenever you want.” You winked at the short girl, earning a heartfelt smile. 
“It’s perfect for my funeral.” Han dramatically threw himself on the backrest.
“Han, I can’t think of something I could do that would make him dislike me more than you.” You joked, cracking a breadstick. 
Yes, you could.
“Maybe you could kick R2. At least that’s what Han did.” Luke snorted, Han’s head snapping to send daggers to the blonde. 
“I didn’t kick R2!” Han raised his voice while wincing. 
“Yeah, you did.” Leia murmured under her breath. 
“I accidentally fell on him!  How was I supposed to know that he was behind me?” Han freaked out, dramatizing the scenery. “Oh, who am I trying to convince? You already made up your mind about it.” He dismissed the potential debate, shooting the rest of his beer. 
“Han, you’re overreacting, he doesn’t hate you.” Padmé reassured him with a soft smile. “That much.” She said under her breath. 
“How bad could dad actually be?” Luke rolled his eyes, picking one of the entreés to stuff into his mouth in one bite.
You googled him while you were supposed to be showering: the “Hero with No Fear” had enough battles, manslaughtering and war crimes under his belt for Han’s panic to have grounds, your deep investigation showed.
“Ha! You haven’t endured his bullying for two years.” Han crossed his foot over his knee. 
“And counting.” The voice that had you clenching around nothing boomed through the air, his figure appearing just when Han was about to eat a piece of breadstick, immediately choking. “Good, now I don’t have to do it myself…” Anakin muttered under his breath.
Anakin’s eyes widened when he distinguished that the seat reserved for him was right by your side. His usual seat was always at the head of the table, but having you at arm's reach was exceptionally dangerous after the occurrences of last night. It felt like all his hard work of avoiding you all day was just thrown into the trash with a single sweep. He convinced himself that he had to push through dinner, eating faster than usual and quickly returning to his workshop and wait until everybody left the dining room, so he could safely seek refuge in his bedroom.
Nonetheless, faith had a different path for him. One of painful blue balls and heavy sweating. 
Why did you have to wear that dress? Was it indeed appropriate for a family dinner or was it just him thinking too much of it with the head inside his pants?
And why were you smirking at him like he was the meal you were about to devour?
“Anakin, good, you’re here. Let’s say grace so we can properly start eating.” Padmé announced, glaring at her son that was currently on his third appetizer.
Padmé thanked the Maker for having the whole family here, making special emphasis on being grateful for you this year, the new member of the family. You popped an eye open, and voilá, Anakin was staring at you while her wife praised you to the rest of the table. Separating your palms from praying position, you dropped one on top of his, careful not to make a single noise. You drew random figures inside his palms with your nail, biting your lip as you checked him out. If his handsome face wasn’t enough already, he was wearing a full suit, black tie on top of a white buttoned up. 
Perfect to rip apart.
“And please bless this delicious meal that it’s about to feed us… Amen.” Right before she could pronunciate that final word, Anakin had slapped your hand away. “Alright, let’s dig in! Ani, honey, could you do the honors and carve the turkey?”
Whatever that would keep him away from temptation. 
Getting up, Anakin picked up the utensils, turning the turkey around to cut into it. Doing the proper round, he asked every single person their meat preferences before making the incision, starting with his wife. Anakin quickly ruled that him with knives and using his strength to lash a large piece of meat wasn’t the best evasive mechanism when he spotted you drooling over his flexed bicep. 
“Dad, I want a leg.” Leia requested, passing up her plate to him.
“Sure, darling.” Anakin propped the leg on her plate carefully. “Good choice.”
“I want one too, please.”  Han put his plate up in his direction.
Anakin glared and huffed, but eventually dumped the requested piece on Han’s dish. “Fucking child…”
Giving up, Han dropped on his chair, violently biting the leg. After Luke picked white meat, Anakin had no other choice but to pay attention to you. 
“Y/n-” He cleared his throat, ignoring your subtle attempt to press your cleavage against the table so your tits would pop into his vision. “How do you like your meat?”
Anakin regretted that question the second he formulated it. Although, he was appreciative that the brawl between the twins deprived everyone else from your answer. 
You offered your plate to him, wide doe eyes as your foot grazed his shin. “I like my meat tender.” Your velvety voice sent an electric wave directly to his groin.
The rest of the dinner was no better. 
Playing footsie, curling your hair with your finger, glancing at him longer than necessary, more lascivious than necessary. There was this particular moment that still had his mind-blown: You, leaned over to Luke to whisper something in his ear, gaining a laugh from him in complicity and sealing the adorable scene with a quick peck, all while your sandal made its way up to an escalating boner inside Anakin’s underpants. 
“Pass the salt, please.” Anakin requested out loud, clearing his throat, seeking a distraction.
But you were fast as a bolt. 
“There you go, sir.” Flashbacks from your face all flustered calling him that kicked in, the salt shaker falling from his hand at his nervousness and the contact of your hand. 
“Y/n, question.” Leia broke through the madness of noises. 
“Of course, shoot.” Anakin was amazed at your ability to smile like nothing was happening underneath the table, like you weren’t trying to touch his thigh underneath the table cloth with the hand that wasn’t supporting your chin. 
“What’s your major? I think I haven’t asked you that yet.” Leia swallowed a spoonful of sweet potato casserole. 
“I’m a psych major.” You drank a bit of your wine. 
“Oh, that solves the mystery. You’re dating Luke as an experiment, aren’t you?” Leia mocked, earning a kick from her brother. “Auch, laser brain!”
“Leia!” Padmé scolded her. 
“My God, have you been psychoanalyzing us this whole time?” Han stopped chewing his biscuit as he stared deep into your soul. “How bad is it?” He was dead serious.
“Oh my- No! No! I haven’t, I promise.” You totally had.
“Could you please prescribe something to mom so she relaxes once in a while?” Leia begged. “Or give her a session, whatever works.”
“Bet you are thrilled to hear Y/n is a psychologist, huh, sir? Know how much you love shrinks, Mr. Skywalker.” Han’s sarcasm revealed -in a very obvious way- how much Anakin did not like your profession. 
“Still better than being a smuggler.” Anakin bit down on a piece of meat with venom directly right at Han. 
“Oh, dad!” Luke exclaimed. “You should do dad!”
You grinned at the way Anakin almost spit his drink. 
“I’m so open to that, sir.” You turned to meet the former Jedi’s face and smirked with mischief at Anakin’s knuckles turning white on his grip on the chair. 
“Do you do the little shrink couch thing?” Han wondered with his mouth full. 
“I mean, if the patient wants to lay down while I do all the work, that’s fine by me.” You laughed innocently, batting your eyelashes to Anakin the second everyone got distracted trying to guess what you would diagnosed Han with.
Sensing Anakin’s heavy breathing, you did the whole charade of dropping your fork onto the floor, obliged to pick it up. As much as Anakin tried to nervously hide the bulge in his pants, you confirmed that your little game was in fact working. You sat back on your chair with a victorious snicker.
“Oh, c’mon dad! Let Y/n work her magic on you! You bottle so much stuff, it’s good to let them out.” Leia reasoned, completely missing the panicked face of the woman that gave birth to her.
“Suddenly, I’m full.” Anakin announced, cleaning the sauce off the edges of his mouth and tossed the napkin to his plate, getting ready to leave.
“You can’t go, we haven’t had dessert yet.” Padmé frowned, signaling with a harsh glare to sit back down. 
“Why don’t Luke and I take care of that?” You stood up, picking up the empty plates around. 
“Oh, no, sweetie, you’re a guest-” 
“No problem at all! Please let me take care of you.” The fact that you said that while collecting Anakin’s plate was a true coincidence. 
“Only if you let Han and I wash the dishes!” Leia negotiated, following her mother’s welcoming values.
“Shut up, I bet they were going to do it anyway.” Han grunted with gritted teeth. 
“We’ll be back with dessert.” You declared, dividing the tower of plates and walking to the kitchen with your boyfriend. 
While Luke threw away the leftovers, you came back to scoop up the rest of the plates with the side dishes and so. You surveyed everyone about their dessert preferences, until you reached a spot next to Anakin. 
“Padmé, back me up here! Wouldn’t it be cool if we save money on rent and live in the Falcon?” Han upped his voice to match Leia’s.
“I'm not living on a ship that’s falling apart, Han!”
“It would be an adventure every day!”
Sliding by Anakin’s side to hoist up the gravy bowl, you briefly grazed his shoulder with your chest, excusing the lame contact by your need to stretch for the dish. While you were leaned over him, the low-cut of your dress exposed to his delight, you turned your head and asked him:
“Would you like dessert, sir?” No one would figure that your question had any double meaning, but Anakin knew the filthy desires your eyes hid. 
“Not for me, thanks.” He smiled curtly, doing a superhuman effort not to fall into the teasing of your playful peaks behind the tight fabric. 
“Are you sure, Mr. Skywalker? The pie’s so soft and warm, very creamy. Baked it myself.” Anakin visibly shuddered, inhaling sharply as he closed his eyes while gripping the armrest. 
You grinned, thanking your hair for covering your expressions to the rest of the family so you could bite your lip lecherously. 
“On a diet.” He spat, playing with his fork to avoid the magnetic pull of your wanting eyes. And if you hadn’t taken the hint, he rubbed his eye with his left hand, showing off the gold band in his ring finger. 
“Please, it’s cheat day.” You curved your lips into a smirk, feeling clever at the pun. “Just a taste? Bet you’ll love it.” That tortuous glint in your eyes. It had him, it had him good. 
“He’s always playing hard to get, Y/n. Bring him a piece!” Padmé interrupted the moment, smiling at you and Anakin, unaware of the tension she had just cut off. 
“I see that.” You finally left the table, not without grazing his back with your swaying hips.
“You know what? I’ll help you with these.” Anakin barked, standing up and picking the few dishes left.
“Oh-” You stiffened at his huge figure walking towards you. You were not prepared for him to bite into the trap. “Not necessary, sir. I’ll come back for the rest.”
“Let me. It’s the least I can do.” Standing in front of you, he raised his eyebrows to hurry you. 
Nervously, you made your way to the small aisle before the kitchen, feeling the powerful pounding of your heart. His presence hung heavy behind you and suddenly the bravery you had flagged during supper had magically disappeared, the only trail it left were your jelly legs. Mere feet from the kitchen door, you felt a pull from your waist, your back stamping against the wall. 
“Is this funny to you?” Anakin glared at you, pressing your torso enough to threaten your ability to breathe. “Trying to break up a marriage, being the homewrecker of your boyfriend’s family? While he’s at the table?”
You tried to escape, fighting against him for your release. But if the enlarging of his nostrils was any sign, you were not going anywhere anytime soon. It was time to summon that feistiness back. 
“You can’t mess up something that’s already broken.” You snapped, squinting your eyes. “Why are you really here Anakin? To tell me off?” You cocked an eyebrow, glancing down at him. “You don’t seem rather convincing.”
Being between a rock and a hard place had a whole other meaning when you were sandwiched between the wall… and Anakin’s crotch. 
“Stop it.” He demanded, seeing the way you put aside the dishes on a nearby table to play with the lapels of his suit. 
“That’s not what you were saying last night.” You grazed your lips against his chin, enjoying the quivering that came from it. “Why do you fight it, Anakin? And don’t pull up your lame excuse of a marriage, when we both know that’s not the reason.”
Anakin pushed you by your throat, your head hardly banging against the wallpaper. He overlooked your whining, taking advantage of your dizziness to get his point through.
“Forget me, Y/n. All about me. All that happened.” He warned in a deeper voice. “For my sake. For yours.”  
“Tell me you don’t want me, Anakin, and I’ll stop, hell, I’ll fucking leave.” You murmured with a fire in your eyes letting him know that you weren’t joking around. “Just say the words and I’ll be out of your face.”
Disappointment settled in Anakin’s chest at the prospect of not seeing you anymore. 
So he stayed silent, waiting for the duel inside his head to end and speak the winner’s name: lust or reason. Luke’s voice calling for his girlfriend helped the struggle come to a conclusion. 
“You haven’t answered the question.” You reminded him, to his disdain. “I want you, Anakin, you-”
“Forget me, Y/n. It may be too late for me, but there may be salvation for Luke and you.” He advised, pushing the plates back to you, stepping back. 
“Y/n! I need help over here!”  Luke again.
“Alright. Loud and clear, sir.” You spat, brushing past Anakin while he still stared at the floor.
Marching down to where the voice was calling you, you encountered Luke elbow deep into the water.
“Hey, you brought the rest of the-” 
“Did you mean it? When you said you wanted to be more spontaneous?” Your breathing was irregular from the adrenaline rush. 
“What?” Luke frowned, drying up his forearms with the hand towel. 
“Kiss me, Luke. Kiss me now.” You demanded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing against him.
“It’s everything okay? Why-”
“Luke! Please.” You purred on his ear, peppering smooches along his cheek. “Kiss me, please.”
Once Luke caught up with your level of neediness, he delivered the antidote for your hornyness. Hands fixed on your hips, Luke’s lips found yours and played along at the dangerous pace you set. The makeout session quickly escalated: out of nowhere you were roughly jammed against the counter top, manly hands sliding to your back side to squeeze some of the fat. You reciprocated Luke’s attention by playing with his hair as you sucked his bottom lip. It wasn’t nearly as exciting as kissing Anakin; because even when you and Luke were almost sucking each other’s face off, he was still too gentle for you.
But thrill didn’t take long to appear through the door. 
Anakin’s stroll to the kitchen ceased at the door frame, when he spotted the heated embrace you two were entangled in. Thankfully, the only person he could see was you and barely because of Luke’s back. So your visual connection was only possible because you managed to angle your boyfriend so you could see Anakin above his shoulder. 
Luke moaned when you hugged him tighter, kissed him harder. 
“Y/n.” He moaned, unaware that your sudden passion was boosted at the sight of his dad’s heaving chest.”You’re so hot, sugar.”
“I want you.” You whimpered, staring dead into Anakin’s eyes. “I need you.” Your naked leg escaped the slit from your dress, surrounding Luke’s hip. “Just do it. Give it to me.”
Whatever sweet nothing Luke murmured into your ear flew right under your radar as you delighted yourself with the view of Anakin’s hurting frown. The image was ripped away from you when Luke physically circled your attention back to you. 
“You’re so beautiful, Y/n. You’re too much for me.” Thanking him, you came back to kissing, the only escape route you had at hand to evade his love bombarding. 
However, Luke’s cringy dirty talk was the second most disappointing thing to happen in that kitchen, just after Anakin leaving.
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taglist : @darthgloris @ingrid69ers @shulipp @bookishnights03 @anakinswh0re419 @fuckmyskywalker@dxviiin
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lavandula-ipsum · 8 months
Text
The rain will hide us
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gif by @tatooineknights
Summary: Stranded on an unkown planet, you've fallen sick. Thankfully, Luke is there with you. However, you might not be the only one in need of care.
Wordcount: 2.3k
Tags: Luke Skywalker x GN!Reader, force sensitive reader, comfort, fluff, mentions of injuries, one-shot. Angst somehow got in.
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The paleness of the morning starts to filtrate through the tent, drawing the dark little spots left by quiet raindrops. Their clatter serves as a gentle wake up call while, outside, an unexplored jungle sleeps.
“How are you feeling?” Before you can even shift in your sleeping bag, Luke has already turned his attention to you, lying a kind hand on your shoulder. For a second, you miss the times when you could have just watched him for a couple of minutes before choosing to signal that you’re awake.
Truth is you feel like shit. A trash compactor could have chewed and spit you out while you were unconscious for all you know. At the effort of answering his question, a raspy whine leaves your sore throat. “Better.”
He’s sitting next to you, not very convinced. There’s urgency tingling the tips of his fingers, you can feel it through the Force. “Is it okay if I check?”
An almost imperceptible shivery note haunts his voice. In the dark circles under his eyes you can sense a long and rough night. You nod. Even though you can feel the last remnants of sickness haven't completely faded from your exhausted body, the back of his hand is warm against your burning cheek and forehead. With an alleviated sigh, Luke finally lets his hand slide down your arm.
“You still have a fever, but it isn’t as high anymore.”
“What happened?”
“Do you remember the crash?”
“A little. I remember the battle, the evacuation when the ship went down.” The mission you embarked on seems to have failed spectacularly. You try to sweep away the thoughts of your fallen comrades, at least till you get back and get to know for sure how many of them are actually gone. “We got into the same escape pod and… this atmosphere messed with the navigation systems, I guess.” You grumble, rubbing the side of your head. “Why don’t I remember much after that?”
“You were trapped in the wreckage for a few minutes. I couldn’t take you out earlier. (Y/N), I’m so sorry. You got some cuts and superficial burns. Perhaps a broken rib.” Oh, so that’s what the bandages are for. And probably why you’ve been stripped down to your standard issue underwear. Suddenly, Luke avoids your gaze and an uncomfortable ripple flutters through the Force, but you’re too distracted frowning at the new scratch across his cheek.
“Did you get hurt?”
“No, I’m fine. But you… You were feverish the whole night.” He continues, bringing the med kit closer to show you a box of painkillers, an empty stim canister, an open tube of pomade, anxious to let you know everything he gave you while you were unconscious.
“It’s ok.” You set your hand over his to stop his nervous tinkering through the med kit. “I trust you, Luke. How many times have we done this? Tell me, what happened next?”
He licks his lips, then looks down at his hands. “You became really sick.”
“I’m sorry. I must have scared you. This is all my fault.” You groan before he can start giving you a thousand reasons why it isn’t. “It really is. I knew I was already sick before the mission. It was just a cold two days ago, but I guess it made me more vulnerable to whatever I caught here.”
Luke shifts closer to you, suddenly alarmed. “Why did you come to this mission then? Why didn’t you say anything?”
You remember those agonizing moments when he didn’t show up at the rendezvous point after the battle of Hoth, gone to Force knows where, while you were left alone wondering if he’d been killed. Turns out he’d just left on his own. It’s not as if he owed you any explanation, you were merely friends. He's fated to go out there and do things so far greater than anything having to do with you. So you tried to slap yourself out of this silly anxiety. After all, the others were gone with the Falcon too, and you had to resign yourself to the faith that they'd be alright. 
And then Luke came back, his body battered and his spirit broken worse than you’d ever seen before or since.
Shyly, you slide your fingers out of your cover. He quickly holds them in between his palms. You’re sure the sky outside the tent would pale in comparison with the intensity of his tired gaze right now, glassy and blue. And yet, all you manage to conjure in response is a lie.
“I wanted to feel useful. The Rebellion needs all the hands it can get.” 
If he realizes, he doesn’t say anything. He just leans in to warm your cold hand with his breath. Luke might not be a full Jedi just yet, but he can probably sense how tired you are of this game of claiming guilt for everything, of just rambling around the edges of what neither of you feel brave enough to say. He just knows you that inescapably well.
For now, the tent has become quiet, so quiet you can even hear him swallow. After a second of allowing yourself to stare at the muscles of his neck tense up and relax with the motion, you look down and sink your flaming face into the sleeping bag.
Against his advice, you sit up. The chill bites your exposed skin, setting a feverish tremor within your chest. However, you don’t let him make you settle back into the bedding.
“Can I say something without it turning into another exchange of apologies?” you ask. Noticing your sudden eagerness, he nods. However, his hands remain close, as if you were about to collapse. “Thank you for saving my life. Truly.”
He seems about to reply with some excuse, probably minimizing himself once again, but you raise a warning finger along with a threatening expression. It makes him laugh, brighter than he’s laughed in months. It lasts too little for your taste, but at least the smile lingers on his face.
“Ok, you win this one. Now, that pomade needs to be reapplied.”
After taking a panicked second to realize what he’s asking, you turn slightly so he can get better access to the burn, which covers the back of your shoulder and part of your right arm. Luke scooches closer till you’re basically sitting between his legs. You wonder if he notices his warmth setting you aflame, but he seems too busy readying the ointment to even look at you, his eyes half hidden under soft locks of weathered gold. However, a loaded silence falls in the tent, during which you feel the urge to cover your front with the sleeping bag. 
“It’s gonna feel a little cold,” he warns before touching you, his voice barely audible.
You had already made up your mind to behave and not show any sign of discomfort, but you need to turn away to hide your face. Honestly, you’re not sure if it’s the painkillers or the surreal ambience around you, but you swear you’ve never been treated by gentler hands. As they work to spread the medicine, you hold yourself together barely enough to not just let go and plop yourself on his lap. You feel beyond beaten, and over your head a thick cloud keeps your judgment in a state of relaxed lethargy. Truth is his welcoming stance, along with the way his fingers caress your tender skin as he softly talks you through the process, isn’t helping your already lazy resolve.  
“I’m so glad, it doesn’t seem like it got infected. I think there’s a chance it won’t leave a scar once we can get you proper treatment back in the fleet.”
You hum half heartedly in response, doing your best to join in the effort to evade the silence instead of entertaining the thought that you don’t actually want to go back. Because he wouldn’t be with you then. Luke has been avoiding the fleet since Bespin, and you've made up your mind to follow him for as long as he wants you around.
“Have you been awake the whole night? Meditating?”
“Not meditating. Standing guard.”
When he finishes up your new bandages, you hear the rustling of knots coming undone and, right after, you’re covered with Luke’s outer robe. Apparently, your top had to be cut off your body when he first tended to your wounds. As he helps drape the garment around your shoulders and slide your arms into the sleeves careful to not graze your wounds, the warmth it still bears surrounds you. Ah, it smells like him too. 
Luke seems ready to offer an excuse to quiet your concerns over his lack of sleep, but it fizzles out before your demanding frown. A pained flare crosses behind his eyes as his Force signature heats up around you. He doesn’t mean to leave you out of his thoughts, he truly doesn’t. It’s just that lately they’ve been a mess not even he has felt ready to untangle. And, if he’s not ready to talk, you won’t push him. However, this silence is a little needle to your heart, and the jab reaches him when it becomes too painful for you to hide.
“I tried to meditate until I had to give up. I couldn’t find the peace for it. You were trembling and twisting in your sleep, burning with fever… mumbling things.”
“Were they embarrassing?” you joke, trying to lift the mood a little. However, instead of following you down that path, you feel a little tug. He’s lightly pulling at the edge of your sleeve, well, his.
“Don’t leave me. Please, stay.”
The pressure around your wrist makes it sound like an apology. Why? For letting you fall sick? For leaving you behind and going to Dagobah on his own? You’re getting tired of riddles, and you’re already trembling from the effort of sitting up straight. Your hand lands on his shoulder, a gesture that seems to finally break him out of his spiraling thoughts and look at you.
“And you did. You stayed.”
An exhalation later, you’re buried in his chest. It’s hard to tell who initiated the hug when you’re enthralled by how melting into each other makes everything else melt away. Luke’s hands travel down your hair, and you wonder when taking in this soothing became as easy as breathing. Well, not exactly. There needs to be a spell, a certain quietness to the air like the one flooding the tent right now. Melancholy is usually the trigger, the signature to the wordless contract between the two of you that grants you permission to indulge in this kind of comfort. Later you’d usually dream awake about it, lost in the memory of what feels forbidden during the daylight. It aches a little that at least one of you needs to be in some kind of pain to feel allowed this kind of intimacy. 
A sigh brushes against your ear as Luke barely dares to talk in a whisper. “What if I can’t do this?” 
“Don’t worry, the Rebellion knows we’re here, we’ll be out of here in no time…”
“Not that. It’s about-” The words get lost as they’re spilled from his lips. Luke lets out a shaky breath before sinking deeper into your hair. “Everything.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
“You always do.” 
“And listen, I truly believe there’s a special path ahead of you. A bright one. However, no matter what happens, even if things go wrong, I’ll be here. I mean- we all will. We’ll love you all the same.”
You nuzzle up closer against him, prompting a pleased sigh out of him. 
“I’ve been leaning on you too much.”
You chuckle, “how so? You just saved me in, like, five different ways just during the last twelve hours.”
“What you do is way more difficult.”
A hand cradles your head close to his chest, while his other arm surrounds you. And, as the silence settles once again, you finally feel him relax around you as your hands travel up his back. Through his thin inner tunic, the heartbeat pressed against your cheek allows itself to slow down a little. 
“You take a nap now. I’ll keep watch.”
“You’re hurt,” he complains. “And sick.”
“I’ll have a blaster at hand and wake you up as soon as I hear anything outside, I swear.” You hush him before he can complain. “Do I need you to remind you of your instruction, commander? If you don’t rest you’ll compromise the mission.”
“And what mission is that?”
“Get back to base, safe and sound. And stick together until then.”
Luke brushes your cheek with his thumb, as if to check again if your fever has gone down enough to leave the task to you. “Yeah, I might be able to do that.”
So you get back in the sleeping bag so as to not get cold, and he lays down over it next to you. He does so a bit skittish at first, so you interlock his fingers with yours and guide him down to the most comfortable spot, next to you. Soon, exhaustion defeats any remaining fear and Luke feels brave enough to wrap an arm around you. Soon, sleep has taken him.With your heart coming to a halt, you finally dare to take in his features. Even though a shadow of worry still darkens his brow, his features look softer than you’ve seen lately. It takes you back to those early days in the Rebellion when you weren’t nearly as close, but talking seemed easier. So you stay awake, treasuring every deep breath and the faint rainfall in the background, until the distant buzz of the Millennium Falcon fades the spell away.
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eveningserenityyy · 7 months
Text
In sickness and In Health | One Shot
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Rating: General.
Pairing: Luke Skywalker x reader
Word Count: 3215k
Summary: Luke thinks the day shall be seemingly peaceful and perfectly content…until he finds you struck with an illness he must help care for.
A/N: I started writing this when I was sick, and whilst i'm better now, I do hope this helps comfort two of my friends who are! <3
Luke woke up early this seemingly delightful morning, eyes both kissed and scorched by the golden rays of the morning sun as it dawned upon his sleepy figure; easing him into a state of consciousness.
His first instinct, just as the day before and just as likely fated to be the same tomorrow, is to turn his attention to you in order for you to be the first thing he sees and may admire when he awakens. That alone is the key to a great day in his opinion, getting to wake up next to you and watch as your chest rises and falls with light breaths, and the way your lips are slightly parted with your messy hair framing your pretty face. 
His day cannot start until he can be assured you are next to him, safe and happy in his loving gaze.
You seem so peaceful and content, therefore he did not have the heart to wake you up so selfishly. He leaned over, careful for his movements to be anything but heavy as he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek; the heat of your flesh warm and inviting against his soft lips.
Naturally, he finds himself to be smiling as he rises from the bed, getting himself dressed and ready to attend to his students. 
He hates to leave you just to wake up on your own whenever that time may be, yet alas, he would have to go regardless of his desires. You would be just fine, and close by if anything were to happen.
He whispered a sweet “I love you.” before leaving you to your rest, hoping you don’t wake up too lonely whilst he's gone. 
Soon after, the fog of dreams lifted on your end, and reality was born before your eyes as they fluttered open just to squeeze shut again in mere seconds. It wasn’t simply the sunlight of which was a source of woe, but too the dizzying pressure in your head that had struck you immediately.
Something was deeply wrong, wrong enough to be noticed despite the dreadful sleepiness that swarmed you like a warm weighted blanket fresh from the dryer. 
You sniffled, noticing how both stuffy and runny your nose felt- there too was a soreness in your throat, gathering the unrelenting need to clear it over and over as fluids coated it on the inside.
“No…not today!” You could not help but whine in such a moment as this, dreading the very idea of being sick so suddenly and without warning. 
Okay, that's not entirely true- for over the past two days, you’d noticed your throat felt rather dry, but being sick never crossed your mind. Instead, you simply drowned your throat in water and called it a day. You thought perhaps you had spoken too much, or hadn’t drank enough water, for germs were never a suspect.
Immediately, your body and mind craved comfort and care for this curse of illness casted upon you. You wanted to be cuddled, soothed, and brought copious amounts of soup until you could start feeling better at last, to be cared for as a parent does for a child. 
You wanted Luke most of all, reaching out for the empty space next to you where he no longer was; The only remnants of his presence was that of his imprint left in the mattress, the imprint of which had been lovingly filled when you had first gone to rest the night before. 
You extended your arm, reaching for his pillow as you brought it close to you like a teddy bear. You nuzzled your face into it, gathering his scent, for the pillow smelt of him; eucalyptus, and the light mist of fresh springwater, paired with a flowery scent that you could not put your finger on but was comforting nevertheless. You did in fact worry that your germs would swarm the fabric, but you could always wash it later- you needed the comfort when in such a state as this, and you dearly hoped he would not mind (Which, in all probability, he wouldn’t).
A sharp pain then built in your throat, mimicking the sharp stabbing of a dozen knives as it caused you to cough about a dozen times. You couldn’t stop as hard as you tried, a tingling feeling in the back of your throat that demanded your coughs of suffrage as compensation. Your throat was beyond irritated, close to nausea after such a fit.
You just about wanted to cry, too tired to deal with this. It wasn’t fair, and so suddenly were you mourning the days when your illness was beyond comprehension, when you could lay back without the mucus wishing to be drained.
Furthermore, from a distance did Luke sense something to be wrong indeed, the very fabric of the force singing to him in silent desperation. He attempted to focus on it, yet the younglings had so many questions for him at this time in their lesson, therefore he waited until the break in between sessions to go and check on just what was the matter.
Once the break commenced, he was quick to return to you, wasting no time as he entered the home you had shared and built together. 
As he entered the bedroom, his heart dropped as he saw you curled up under the blankets, your poor figure shivering and holding his pillow to your body as you struggled to keep the coughs at bay.
You appeared so weak and delicate, suffering under the effects of a sneaky illness. He couldn’t stand to see you this way, immediately tending to your side as he crouched next to you, pressing a hand to your forehead before placing his lips there instead, feeling the warmth you radiated so violently.
“Luke?” You mumbled out, voice sounding so rough and weakened. You had barely noticed him enter the room, a telltale sign of your state.
“I’m here, star, im here…” He tried his best to give you a reassuring smile, despite how much it pained him to see you like this. “Sick, huh?”
You nodded with a frown, sniffling to drain your nose as your eyes wet themselves with the buildup of tears. “I don’t…don’t feel good-”
He had the strongest urge to care for you, to do everything in his power to make you feel a little less terrible than you did now. How could he leave you like this? His heart sank at seeing your state of being, and he simply wished to do all he could for you.
He made a choice in regards to the day he had originally planned, one he was perfectly content with.  “I’ll be right back, alright? Try and rest. Close your eyes for me, it’ll help.”
You complied, eyes falling heavy as you heard his footsteps disappear into the distance. You wondered what he was doing, although your brain was much too fried to think about anything too deeply. 
After a few minutes, he came right back, once again crouched by your side with a cold cloth to be placed on your forehead. You hummed in response, for it felt so nice on your skin. It was the best sensation you had felt all morning, compared to the waging war of your immune system.
You then remembered something, gazing up at him with tired eyes as it occurred to you. “Mmm’ Luke…don’t-” Cough, “-You have-” Cough. “-Class today?”
He smiled warmly, shaking his head as if to reassure you as quickly as possible. “I cancelled, don’t worry. Who else will take care of you but me?”
You were glad, although did not let it show as to not be selfish over his time you had stolen from the padawans. “You didn’t have to do that…”
“Star,” The loving nickname lingered over his tongue, drawing it out as if to question you with a hint of amusement in his tone. “You’re hugging my pillow for comfort- I think you need me.”
You blushed, or at least you think you did if your face isn’t already pink tinted. You and Luke were equally needy when it came to each other, sure, yet that intensified when you were sick- you’d have him glued to your side if you could.
He brought a hand to your forehead, brushing your hair out of your face with the tips of his fingers. “Can I make you some soup, see if that helps you?”
You nodded, weakly so. “Please…I would like that, if you don't mind.”
“The regular, I assume?” He asked for clarification, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. He knew you liked to be cared for whilst also not wanting to be a burden, but to him, you could never be such a thing. Caring for you made him happy, for he could help soothe the one he loved most.
“Mhm.” You hummed in response, thus watching as he got up to make his way over to the kitchen, your eyes struggling to stay open as you found yourself succumbing to the dark fog that was a deserved nap.
It's truly a surprise that you could fall asleep at all when in such a condition, therefore you would take whatever chance you got for some rest.
Luke smiled to himself, knowing you were napping peacefully, and for that he was glad. It was the one moment in which you could have any true peace, not having to experience the effects that's plagued you so terribly. 
He loved you so much, and hated seeing you sick more than he naturally should. He loved seeing you smile, or strut about the room with such grace, making his heart burn for you with the sound of your laughter…but seeing you so weak and fragile, so pale and miserable at that, brought him great pain.
He gathered the ingredients at the kitchen counter, setting up the pot and cutting up some vegetables for your soup with a rapid ease.
He thought himself to be a decent cook, with recipes he already knew, at least. He had his aunt to thank for that, having taught him how to cook select recipes when he was growing up. 
This soup was always one of his favourites, and now one of yours, of which Beru had taught him how to make. It was a simple recipe, lots of spices- there was only one thing he had adjusted for your liking, and that was grating the carrots in as opposed to chopping them. It was a texture thing for you, mushy carrots not having much of an appeal.
The process of making it wasn’t too long, some time passing before he could bring it to you. He too took some time to allow it to cool down, too giving you more time to rest in the process. As he did this, he kept glancing back into the room you laid within, tinges of worry tainting his mind.
He quietly spoke your name as he nudged you awake, already having placed your soup on the bedside table for you. He made sure to be gentle with his nudges, not wishing to disrupt you poorly.
“Mm?” You hummed, voice raspy as your eyes fluttered open. “Oh…Hi.”
You were so sweet as you looked up at him, feeling awful yet still so happy to see him as you always were. It made his heart flutter with the dancing of butterflies.
He smiled, pressing his curved lips to your forehead again to read your temperature. “Still hot, I see. You should take the blanket off, i don’t want you to overheat or-”
“I’m always hot.” You tried to joke, yet it didn’t much land, for your tone was quite monotone and depressed sounding due to the physical state. “-But yes…”
You caused a slight chuckle to slip past him, and for that you were glad as he thus asked you to kindly sit up in order to eat the soup he had made for you.
You nodded, carefully and rather slowly pulling yourself up to sit with you back leaning against the headboard of your shared bed. 
“Good girl,” That smile was still on his face as he praised your efforts, causing you to blush. He didn’t mean it in any way that you may have been thinking, for it was a rather innocent praise.
He took the mug of soup from the nightstand, holding it carefully as he took the spoon, gathering some broth on it as he brought it to your lips. You had no complaints in regards to him helping you like this, so you parted your lips in return and allowed for him to ease the spoon into your mouth.
As you swallowed, it felt comfortingly warm against your throat and dry mouth, the spices dancing on your tongue as the flavours hit you like a harmonious song. 
“Thank you…” You spoke after a few more spoonfuls of soup, swallowing the liquid coating in your throat as you did so.
Luke is always so good to you, allowing for you to feel so loved and cared for. You couldn’t feel more appreciative of the man who sat before you. 
You reached a hand to him, cupping his cheek as you caressed the pink flesh with your thumb. Your touch was so gentle to him, perfectly delicate and warm due to the heat you radiated. 
“Can we cuddle, please?” You pleaded, giving him the cutest pout and puppy eyes. 
How could he say no when you asked so nicely, and needed him so much today? He was quite sure that his heart must be melting in his chest.
“Of course. It's hardly a question, you know. ” He smiled so warmly once again with a joy that felt like medicine, placing the mug on the bedside table as you scooched over for him, giving him room to lay with your back to his chest.
You worried that facing him would put him at risk of gathering your germs, therefore spooning was the safest position…yet part of you hated that very fact. Your love language is physical affection; you wanted to kiss him, to place your lips all over his rosy cheeks and soft lips, and you wanted just the same from him in return. 
He had his leg draped over your own, his face nuzzled into your hair and neck as his hand found its place upon your chest, feeling your heartbeat thump against him in a calming manner. It was peaceful to know your blood was pumping healthily through your veins, even in a state that may have left you feeling as if death was on its way. 
Though, he could indeed sense something was bothering you, a sudden riff like the waves on a calm ocean becoming disturbed. Something was on your mind.
“Star, is something wrong?”
You would feel rather silly having to explain that you’re pouting because you can’t kiss him until you get better, so you brushed it off instead. “Mmm no, just keep holding me, okay?”
He wasn’t buying it, but just nodded, pressing a kiss to your hair as he felt the disturbance once again. He was beginning to catch on, smiling to himself for the fact that you were always so needy for him, craving his affection; he adored it, truth be told. He felt so wanted and loved because of it, but make no mistake, he still wished to comfort the anguish of which he was not so very fond of in comparison.
You felt him pull away from you before slowly and gently nudging you around to face him, leaving you half laying on your back. He placed a hand on your chin, thumb running over your bottom lip as he began to question you. “Starflower, be honest with me; are you upset because you think I can't kiss you?”
You blushed, forgetting how quickly he catches onto things. “Well…but you…you know can’t- i’ll get you sick and i don’t wanna be the reason you get sick…”
“You didn’t answer my question.” His tone was both reassuring to protect you from embarrassment, while also teasing at once.
You sighed, pushing a cough down your throat as you did so. “Yes…I am- don’t laugh at me.”
He shook his head, blushing just as you were. “I'm not laughing, I promise.”
You tried to hide your face in the pillows, escaping his gaze as his grasp drifted to run through your hair soothingly. “I’m not afraid to kiss you just because of a few germs. You only have to ask me.”
“It would be selfish to get you sick, Luke.”
“And it would be selfish for me to deny you when you want me…Star, there is nothing I would hesitate to give you.”
You peered up at him again with the brightest blush, shy to give in. “Don’t blame me when you get sick then.”
His heart thumped in his chest, eyes switching between your lips and your sleepy eyes. “The padawans deserve a break for how hard they have been working, and we get to spend time together. I don’t sense a problem with this.” 
He had his right arm resting on the other side of your head as he looked down on you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. A few quiet moments passed like this, finding comfort in close proximity before you thus spoke quietly, pushing a smile from your lips. “Kiss me, please…”
“Hm? What was that, sweetheart?” He lightly teased, wishing to lighten the mood further, thinking a tad bit of silliness may ease your mind. 
“Luke…” You whined, pouting. Although, there was a part of you that would have giggled if not for being sick.
He let out a chuckle, lowering his lips onto your own as they connected, latching onto one another as if they had moulded to fit together as a perfect puzzle piece over the years. The kiss was soft, and left your lips feeling warm and tingly as his kisses always did. Even the curves of your smiles blended together smoothly, considered almost addicting.
You could feel the tug of his smile against your own throughout the entirety of the moment, so blissful even when in the company of countless germs. It was a lovely contrast, truly. That was what you loved most, the fact he could make the dark times seem like a paradise.
Reluctantly did he pull away, yet not far enough for his hot breath still danced against your skin. “See? That wasn’t so bad, star…”
You shook your head, raising your arms up to wrap around his neck. “Just wait until you get sick, maybe you’ll change your mind.”
“It’ll be worth it.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, coughing along the way and yet not phasing him in the least as the germs were likely spread over him. “You’re ridiculous, Skywalker.”
“I’m only in love.”
With another cough, you spoke. “When did you get so cheesy?”
This would be one cue to say something along the lines of “when i fell in love with you”, but fortunately for you, he instead replaces such a phrase with another interlocking of lips instead. Suddenly, being sick wasn’t so bad as it once appeared…
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djarindykes · 1 year
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dracowars · 1 year
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Hi again sweetie! Luke and reader where theyre all celebrating the whole end of the empire/death star and she gets absolutely drunk off her mind and sits on his lap and plays with his hands all giggly and theyre "just friends" and han (and leia) are having the time of his life teasing tf out of them?? Maybe in the morning shes embarrassed and apologises so lukes all sad bcs it was a "mistake" but they end up tgt later? Thankss lovee
booze and confessions | luke skywalker
pairing: luke x reader
word count: 1,9k
summary: where y/n celebrates the end of the war a little too much, ending in a confession
a/n: i feel like it has been ages since i wrote something even though it's not true lmao hope you enjoy lovely!! <3
warnings: angst, mentions of war, mentions of death
universe: star wars
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To be honest, you have no idea how many drinks you already have in your system, but when if not today are you allowed to celebrate like this? After the Death Star was successfully destroyed, the Empire was defeated and peace and tranquility will return to the entirety of the galaxy. The age of fear and terror is over, the time of fighting is over and you can finally let yourself go. Finally, there is something to celebrate, something you have been working towards for years. And today, after all the suffering, that goal has been achieved and you could not be any happier to be right here, right now: on Endor, in the midst of numerous Ewoks dancing and partying, with your friends who fought alongside you all those years while the sky above you is lit up in a variety of colours.
However, the exertion of the day affects your body, your feet slowly starting to hurt from this long, fateful day and when you see Luke sitting at a table, with Han and Leia next to him, a break from all this celebrating suddenly sounds quite attractive and you stumble and stagger towards them.
"There he is! The man of the hour!", you chuckle happily as soon as you are near them, your arms spread wide as you head straight for Luke, who examines you with a small but shy smile. Before he can answer, however, you actually trip over your own feet and almost hit the ground if it wouldn't be for Luke's strong arms to prevent you from falling to the ground.
"Woah! Be careful!", Luke warns you, but what he does not expect is that you barely noticed your little misstep and just sit on his lap, giggling with joy. "I think someone had a drink or two too many."
"Are you talking about me? Don't you worry, Luke, I'm perfectly fine!", you cheekily smile at him, swaying a bit which is why he carefully puts one of his hands on your arm so you do not fall off your seat on top of him.
"Maybe you just didn’t have enough?", you tease him, showing him his glass, turning it upside down to emphasize that it is empty. Of course, this victory also comes with a lot of pain for Luke and Leia due to the loss of their father, but Luke has assured you several times that he is fine and that he still wants to celebrate this victory, in honor of his father.
That is also why you really wanted the two of you to have a good time together, but apparently you really had a few too many drinks.
"She definitely had too much", Han comments on your behaviour, sitting across from you with an arm around Leia, followed by a laugh. "I think I have rarely seen her like this and I have seen a lot."
"Han, you could use another drink, don't you think?", you answer him provocatively, but before you can elaborate, you feel the warmth of Luke's hand running up and down your arm. Heat rushes to your face, your cheeks turning red, but you just reach for his other hand and play with his fingers enthusiastically.
"I never thought I would see Ewoks in my life! I mean, did you look at them? They are so cute, I can't believe they stopped an army of stormtroopers by themselves!", you gush in awe upon watching these little creatures dance around their fire. "Don't worry, Luke. You are still cute as hell, too."
"Oh wow, it must sting to be compared to little furry bears", Han chuckles, putting his hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing out loud. Leia, also trying to hold back her laughter for her brother's sake, hits Han with her elbow.
"Stop it, Han. I am not even talking to you, just to Luke. Look at you! Such a beautiful face!", you grin, running your index finger along Luke's jawline. Your faces are so close now that they are almost touching and as soon as your eyes meet, the world around you becomes silent.
But just when Luke thinks you are about to close the gap between you, you throw your arms around his neck and place a kiss on his cheek, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
"I really love you, Luke", you whisper, or at least think you are whispering, because Han comments your words with inhaling in shock.
"No, that is news to me. I would never have expected that in my life, with the way you always look at each other-"
"Han!" Luke and Leia interrupt him at the same time and he immediately raises his hands in the air in defense, an expression of innocence on his face.
"It is not at all fun to say if you don't say it back, Luke", you sadly pout now, skillfully ignoring Han or not even noticing him due to your numbed senses. Because you are moving too much again, you almost slide off Luke's lap once more, but he holds you tight again in the last moment so that does not happen.
"Well, I think it is time for you to lie down now. It was a long evening and-"
"B-But we haven't even danced with each other yet!", you say indignantly as Luke stands up with you and immediately grab his hand, lifting it up to do several clumsy pirouettes underneath.
To prevent you from tripping over your own feet again, Luke casually lifts you into his arms, causing you to squeal as everything around you suddenly seems to spin even more. Not resisting or fighting back, enjoying the closeness you now have to him too much, you wave to Leia and Han over Luke's shoulder and let him carry you into one of the huts further up in the treetops.
Luke gently lays you down on the small mattress laid out in your hut and covers you with the blanket, sitting next to you. Your eyes are already half closed, but one of your hands is still clinging tightly to his.
"I love you too, you can't even imagine how much", Luke admits before giving you a kiss on the forehead and leaving you to your dreams, which for the first time are only consisting of positive things.
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Scattered rays of light shine into your face, causing you to wake up far too early after the previous long night. Slowly, you open your eyes and listen to the soft rustling of the leaves outside. You stretch your arms above your head as you yawn and sit up, running your hands through your face as the first effects of last night make themselves noticeable.
You curse under your breath as you rise on shaky legs, having to hold onto the wall of the small hut to keep your balance. You already regret not drinking less yesterday, but it felt so good in the moment. Completely sleepy and not yet fully awake, you stumble out onto the wooden platform high up in the trees and stop in your tracks when you see Luke standing on the railing in front of you, looking out over the Ewok village.
The light wind blows through his hair and the sunlight causes his face to shine naturally. Barely able to take your eyes off him, memories of last night suddenly come to your mind and your heart beats faster. You can't remember everything, there are some missing parts in your memories, but what you can remember brings a blush to your cheeks in an instant.
Wanting nothing more than to immediately disappear back into your hut because you just do not want to be confronted with your actions of last night, you slowly turn around, retreating, but as soon as he says your name, you know he does not even need to see you to know you are there.
With a smile, Luke turns to you, leaning his back against the railing.
"Slept well?", he asks gently, but you think you can also hear a certain amount of concern in his voice.
With a nod, you slowly walk towards him, looking away because you just can't keep eye contact, too afraid of what you might see in his eyes.
"How are you?", you ask carefully as you lean over the railing next to him and he looks at you from the side, his focus solely on you which makes your cheek feel even warmer. Playing with a strand of rope that is holding the wood of the railing together, you wait for his answer, your heart beating loudly in your ears as your shoulders touch.
"I'm good. We won so..", Luke chuckles quietly, but immediately falls awkwardly silent again.
You stand next to each other in silence for several minutes, just listening to the wind and the peaceful sounds of the forest. But you both feel that there is something unspoken between you and neither of you knows how or whether to address it. Once Luke finally clears his throat, you brace yourself for the worst.
"You don't have to be embarrassed about what happened last night if that is why you are not speaking to me like you usually do", Luke addresses the rancor in the room and you want to run away and lock yourself up somewhere and just never come out again.
"Luke, I'm incredibly sorry. I-I had too much to drink and my behavior was completely inappropriate", you apologize to him, head down because you just can't manage to look at him without immediately turning bright red. Why are you suddenly so completely out of control of your emotions?
"Oh... I see. Uhm, you don't have to apologize. I mean, if it was just the effects of having too much to drink, then it was probably just a mistake.."
"W-What do you mean?", you ask in surprise, not knowing what he is trying to imply. Or maybe you do know and just do not want to admit it.
"Well, I mean- So I- Would it be wrong of me if, deep down, I hoped that it was more than that? That it was, maybe, real?"
"Luke, what are you talking about...?"
"Would it be so bad if it was real? Do you really feel about me that way?", he asks you and now you finally look into each other's eyes and you hold your breath, searching his eyes for any signs that will tell you what is going on, if he actually means his words.
"Because if that were the case, then all I can say is that I feel the same way about you. Maybe even more", he continues, not letting you speak as he takes your hands in his. "I really really love you too. I told you yesterday, but I don't think-"
"I know. I think I heard it", is the only thing you can say in response to his confession, your thoughts swirling around in your head. You never would have thought that he would feel the same way about you and for some reason your heart now beats a little more painfully than before because you just feel so much love for this man in front of you.
"As I told you yesterday, Luke: I really love you too", you admit openly and before you know it, he wraps you in his arms and hugs you as tightly as if you wouldn't experience the next day.
And in that moment you realize that you would never find a safer place than right here, in his arms. That no matter what comes your way in the future, nothing matters as long as you have each other. And finally, after all this time, you do have each other.
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tatooineknights · 24 days
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Since a lot of Twitter oomfs are now lost because of M*sk getting it banned in other countries, I thought I'd set up a Blue Sky account for anyone wanting some additional Luke content for anything you might be missing from your day. Feel free to follow! 💖
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dragonjadearts · 1 year
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quick concept I had for Luke in mandalorian armor. I know most of the time his outfits are black, but I really adore the cream/white looks from New Hope and ESB, so that was the main inspiration for this
Also this was inspired by a fic idea that I had, so if you want to read that, you can read the bullet list under the cut below
Atin — Stubborn, tenacious, capable of endurance [ah-TEEN]
At some point after S2 ends, Din gets in contact with Luke and they start co-parenting Grogu
Then Din decides to stop avoiding responsibility like a plague and take up the mantle of Manda’lor
He and Bo-Katan and several other clans retake Mandalore
They set up in Sundari first, focusing their efforts on rebuilding there as a start
At some point, Din reaches out to the New Republic and starts negotiations to respect Mandalore as its own independent system
Luke and Din continue to talk and eventually Luke moves out to Sundari so Din can be close to his son while Luke continues to teach him
They start to rebuild Keldabe, which is in much worse condition
Din leaves for a while to finish up proper negotiations for a treaty with the New Republic, leaving Luke in his place to make sure no one on the ruling council acts outside of his general wishes
Luke heads out to Keldabe to focus on rebuilding efforts there
His focus is on setting up farms and moisture farms to rebuild the soil in one of the old districts that’s so badly bombed that it’s barely habitable
The bio dome is still up but is badly damaged
The work is set back by frequent sandstorms that get in through the cracks in the bio dome, causing workers to take shelter until they pass and wrecking the farms
Eventually the air in Keldabe gets bad enough that every worker wears their armor/helmet outside at all times to filter through the air
Luke is called back to Sundari by the Armorer who gifts him a set of armor built out of Obi-Wan’s old armor which Bo-Katan found in storage on Concordia
The armor has been shored up and redesigned to better fit Luke’s body/fighting style
It’s light and doesn’t have space for extra weapons since Luke doesn’t use them
It’s been painted in cream and Luke takes some extra paint to decorate the helmet with two circles in white and pink to mimic the two suns of Tatooine
He returns to Keldabe to continue his work
At some point Din comes back and lands in Sundari with some senators to show off the work they’ve been doing
They stay in Sundari for a few days but Leia and a few others want to see Keldabe. Leia wants to help but at least one of the other senators wants to judge the current strength of the Mandalorians
Din reluctantly agrees
In order to visit they have to wear goggles and filters. They don’t wear helmets because buy’ce is sacred and while Luke is considered allit, these random ass senators certainly don’t
They head out to Sundari and Luke greets them. He doesn’t see Leia at first because she’s in the back and he’s wearing his helmet
Luke eagerly explains the work they’re doing as he leads them through Keldabe’s broken down castle to The Hub
When they get there, Din lets them know they can take off their filters if they’d like
Luke takes off his helmet
Ta-da, identity reveal
Idk where this will go from here honestly, that’s all I got so far but if a better writer than me wants to do this fic, I will give them free reign if they promise I get to illustrate it for them
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whorcruxes · 2 months
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"Her gaze fell across Coruscant, to the Jedi Temple. She knew he wasn’t there, he was off somewhere in the far flung planetary systems in the Outer Rim. But it was habit to always look for him there... The sun was dipping low beneath the horizon and the hues of red and orange and pink battled against the constantly steady light of the city planet."
  follows Padmé through the months Anakin is in the Outer Rim to the time they are reunited
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musewrangler · 14 days
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“Matt…” she murmured, “Matt…”
The right side of his face was coated in blood and his lips split. The wound in his thigh had soaked his uniform trousers and she could see from how he held his left arm that something was broken or dislocated.
He handed her a blaster before he swiftly tugged at her uniform jacket.
“S’okay,” he slurred, turning to gingerly wipe some of the blood and grime off his face and onto his sleeve. “You’re gonna be ok, you hear me, Lieutenant?”
He almost ripped her jacket open to reveal the spreading bloodstain on her henley right above her waistband.
She knew it was bad. She’d known that the moment she’d been shot and Matt had dragged her to the meagre shelter of this tree. Up to that point, she’d really believed they could make it. After four days being held by the Pyke Syndicate, they had figured out an escape plan.
And despite their injuries from the expected beatings, they had all made the sprint uphill into the tree line. Maddy had felt the burn then and it was like someone had punched her hard in the back, but she kept going. She had to. She was dead if she didn’t.
This installment is for @accidental-spice
she’ll know why😉
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rubixcuby · 5 months
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What is it with Luke and milk? Like, the two main drinks of the Star Wars franchise- green milk and blue milk- are drank by him. What’s next, white milk??
. . .
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forcemeanakin · 11 months
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𝗙𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 ('𝘀 𝗱𝗮𝗱) - 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟯
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•WARNINGS: SMUT. Age gap !!! Infidelity kink !!! (you’ve been warned, so if you do not agree pls leave because I’ll delete any hateful comments about this) Actual cheating. Dirty talk, teasing and sex in a public space, voyeurism, praising kink, bit of degrading, handjob (m and f receiving), oral sex (f receiving). Mentions of an unhappy relationship/divorce/troubled marriage.
Pairing: dilf!Anakin Skywalker x female!reader.
Series Summary: Luke takes you home for Life’s Day. On the edge of giving up on you two, Skywalker manages to light up a fire inside of you again. Problem is… wrong Skywalker.
Part One - Part Two
Part Three Summary: How could Mr. Skywalker resist such a pretty little thing like yourself when you come into his workshop with dessert?
Word count: 4.1 K.
A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao. 
Thank you so much for the comments in my last post! Your excitement makes me want to write even more :) seriously thank you! And I'm sorry if I forgot to tag someone, pls let me know if I missed you!
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“You missed dessert.”
It took Anakin a second to realize that he wasn’t delusional, that your voice wasn’t a product of his imagination.
You were here, in his workshop. 
With actual pie.
“Shouldn't you be upstairs, Y/n? It 's pretty late.” Anakin spoke without disconnecting his attention from the welding happening in his project.
You delayed your response, walking towards him and placing the plate on the counter, sliding it to him. Elbows on the surface, you supported your head on your knuckles, widening your eyes in innocence in case he indulged in looking up. 
“I could ask that as well.” You got closer, taking a spot at his left side to admire the precision in which he was attaching cables. “Life Day's morning is tomorrow, we should be up pretty early. We’re also going skating.”
Anakin scrunched his face like he had forgotten about it and he was not eagerly expecting the trip.
“You can’t not go, it’s our last day here.” You murmured with a velvety voice, sending goosebumps through his spine. 
“I’ve seen that fucking lake enough for a lifetime. I’m sure I won’t miss much.” He stuck his tongue out, inching his head forward to appreciate his manual work better.
“You’ll miss me.”
Anakin, having everything on the line, was too careful not to slip and fall. Because of that, your grand gestures and obvious advances were deflected by him every single time. Except that one time he did indulge. That one time where you weren’t even trying and he, by his own doing, fell into temptation. Only when commands a situation, or when he thinks he is, he lets himself free fall into his instincts.
“I’ll miss you.” You added, playing with the little metal panel that seemed the right size to fit the droid part he was fixing. 
“I don’t think you miss me when you have Luke’s tongue down your throat.”
He bit the words, gripping the tool with more force in between his fingers, clearly upset. You hid a playful smirk.
“That’s when I miss you the most.” You whispered, grazing his ear shell with your lips, caressing the pull-up sleeve from his shirt.
He tensed at the ministration, blinking fast to return to his previous state of concentration, “To all of this, where’s your boyfriend? Doesn’t he have a promise to fulfill?”
Honestly, it was your fault for trusting Luke’s empty words. Again. But you were enjoying Anakin’s visible jealousy.
“Luke wanted to go straight to sleep… said he was stuffed from dinner. Not a lot of energy to do anything.” You briefly whined with a voice so low, Anakin could barely hear you with the noise of the machine.
So he stopped, pushing himself back onto his chair so he could look up to you without obstacles. His chair was set just a few inches lower to work better. Anakin’s eyes followed your figure from head to toe, casually lingering on the bit of skin that showed from the slit of your attire. Just like at the dinner table, he was struggling and was unsure that he would be able to escape harmlessly this time.
“I’m kind of jealous to be honest.” You mumbled, staring at the mess of parts, walking until you were in between him and the counter. Trapped in between his spreading legs, your chest was right on his eye line and you hadn’t changed your dress. “I wish I was stuffed as well.”
Gulping harshly, Anakin built up the strength to stare at your intense gaze, basically condemning himself. Because the minute he saw the hungry spark shining from them, he knew there wasn’t a single bone in him that would deny you if you asked for him again. 
His strong, yet shy hand, climbed up your leg like a moth to a flame until he was able to grasp the fat of your thigh. Feeling your softness against his palm had him on the edge of staining his pants. With a little pull from his part, it took you mere seconds to obey his silent command and sit on his lap. Anakin’s curious hand continued to brush your bare leg, rejoicing in the way your breath would accelerate when his hand went up and how you bit your lip whenever it came down. 
It also didn’t help that his other arm was wrapped around your waist, thumb miming the motion of his hand, but on your hip, trapping you in his embrace. Expectant of what would be his next move, you shyly waited for whenever he would peel his eyes from your slit and reciprocate the attention, this time on your face. 
On your lips. 
Like he was reading your mind, Anakin’s eyes slowly moved up your curves until he met your needy orbs, noses softly grazing each other at the proximity. Breath getting out of control at the shift of energy, warmth expanding all over your skin and clit throbbing in anticipation. You deviated your eyes momentarily to sneak a peek of the deliciously rich piece of pie laying on the table and he benefited from the newly acquired angle to caress your throat with his lips.
“Just a taste?” You murmured, looking at him through your eyelashes, intentionally inching closer to brush his lips with yours.
Was he going to do it? Take the next step?
Would he dare?
Would you dare?
Surpringsily, Anakin nodded swiftly, leaning into the intoxicating pull of your mouth. “Just a taste.”
Anakin’s lips tasted so much better the second time around, it tasted like victory. And you made it a personal goal of yours to show him how grateful you were that he finally caved in. Wasting no time, in case he changed his mind, your hands found their home in Anakin’s curls, the silky feeling of them a new aphrodisiac to you and apparently to him, by the way he was growling at your clasp.
His sneaky tongue barely asked for permission when it was already intruding into your mouth, licking everything on its way. Giving up on trying to take the lead, you surrendered to his rough pace and enjoyed the delicious sensation of his warm, wet tongue against your lips. Anakin would take advantage of your dumb state and hanging mouth to suck however he pleased, smirking because the only thing your mind could process was imitate his dirty moves. Until he bit your bottom lip, making sure your brain wasn’t already melted before he could even start ruining you.  
When you pulled his hair, only because he had taken the party downstairs and was violently grabbing your ass, it was like you had awakened a beast. Out of nowhere, Anakin stood up, holding you by your thighs and placing you on the surface of his tool table. His shirt’s buttons were discarded early in the makeout session, granting you the space necessary to roam your palms all over his strong pecs and firm shoulder blades. And when you tried to wrap your legs around his waist, hinting right where you wanted him, he clasped his fists around your ankles, spreading you open without breaking the liplock. He was even more aggressive with the leverage his height gave him.
“Just a taste…” He grunted again, lifting up the skirt of your dress until it was tangled enough to give him a good view of your thong. He clicked his tongue at the sight of your spicy choice of underwear. “Almost like you had planned it all along.”
Shamelessly, so outrageously shameless, you drifted your legs further apart, making him snicker. 
“Well, did you?” He wandered, sliding your damped panties down your legs.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since yesterday.” You breathed out, shivering at the breeze fanning your burning core. “I’ve never wanted something so bad.” Urged eyes glued directly to Anakin’s groin. 
Anakin grinned a triumphant smile. That could’ve easily been a lie, but he doubted it. He recognized a brat when he saw one. Holding your foot like it was a delicate piece of glass, Anakin set the nibbling starting point right on your ankle and followed a beeline straight to your weeping cunt. His hot breath made you shiver in anticipation, whimpering to show off your desperation in case this would reach his sensible side.
“When was the last time you had an orgasm before me, baby? Without doing it yourself?” He breathed, roaming his hands up your legs, the contact so rough and intimate  at the same time.
You hated that question, it embarrassed you. 
“Mmm… Uhh-” You thought out loud, mind going blank as Anakin’s smooches went higher up. “F-four months?” You hissed.
“You’ve been dating Luke for three.” He did the math in his head. 
Oh.
Your face turning in shame had his eyes widening.
It would be a lie if Anakin said that he wasn’t mad at his son for dragging the Skywalker name in the mud. For keeping such a needy thing like yourself restricted from gratification. With how sexual you were, four months were an eternity. Nonetheless, Anakin was a fixer and you were his next project.
“Desperate little thing, aren’t you? This slutty pussy can’t wait to have something inside of it. Anything.” Anakin mocked you, testing your sanity as he delayed contact with your core by redirecting his foreplay into the inner side of your thighs.
“That’s not true.” You fought with a trembling voice, observing how Anakin got closer and closer to delivering exactly what you wanted. “I only want you, d-”
The forbidden word. You almost spilled it.
“-sir.” You corrected in time, catching Anakin’s mocking glint. “Only you, please.”
Anakin’s face twisted in pleasure when his finger dived inside you, giving him a warm welcome, impossibly slick. You hugged his pumping digit tightly, getting even wetter at this fascinated expression. Anakin hadn’t felt such a lubricated canal in so long, his head almost exploded at the million possibilities with such an easy pussy: His cock would slide right in, be suffocated by your clenching walls just like his finger was... 
That had him dropping on his knees, starting to eat you out like he was starved. Just like you predicted. Nose deep, no hesitation to blow your slobbering cunt with abandon, moaning right on your core when he had the very first taste of your flavor. So sweet. Just like he predicted.
“Oh- oh!” You whimpered at the first clean lick he gave you, quivering like a virgin because it had been too long since someone showed you love there. 
Anakin’s tongue had the knowledge and patience none of the guys your age had. Every motion was so passionately delivered, so intentional. No rush, no fast lapping to get you off quickly. Anakin knew exactly what would have you shaking with pleasure and wasn’t scared to spend his time getting to know every hidden, sticky spot. In fact, it seemed like he enjoyed taking his sweet time with his face buried in your exposed core. 
It was the hottest shit you’d ever seen.
You were riled up by the precise technique with which he knew exactly how to pleasure your opening, sucking on your lips like they were the meal and not a measly pit stop. But what had you speechless, just at a loss of words, was the way he didn’t hesitate to dip his face into your heat with fervor. As he planted open mouth kisses to your slit, face fully covered by your juices, he only pulled back to spit on top of your clit and play with the liquid slob on top of your bundle of nerves. 
No grimaces, no disgust faces, just utter fascination by your reactions and your pussy.
“Such a sweet thing.” Anakin whispered, flattening his tongue and lapping over your mound. “Careful, I might not let you leave.”
Please don’t. You replied inside your head.
Anakin’s sounds of approval and delight made this whole experience even more sinful. Something about the idea of him enjoying cheating on his wife touched a nerve inside of you, something so wild and dangerous: You had another woman’s man in between your legs and he was enjoying being of service to you. You arched your back at the naughty thought, something Anakin didn’t appreciate because it moved you from the angle he had specifically situated you on; he had already discovered the spot that had your toes curling.
The power rush combined with Anakin's attention to your clit had a knot forming on your abdomen. Supporting yourself on your elbows, you looked down at Anakin’s work, not wanting to miss the scenario in front of you, in case you climaxed earlier than anticipated. But what you saw only pushed you closer to said ending. Anakin was playing with your clit like a cat with a toy, giving rapid licks that had your head spinning, while staggering eager sucks onto your nub. Anakin’s lips enveloped your clit with such care, only to roughly slurped on it, only backing down until he heard you whining. Or moaning his name. Whichever came first. 
“Anakin-” You bravely attempted to cry his name, unsure of his reaction. 
Anakin took the opportunity to analyze your flustered image, his gaze inevitably drawn to your falling cleavage, given that he was pulling down on the fabric by shouldering your legs. He could see the top of your boobs spilling from your undergarments and he dreamed of the looks of them. How perky they would be, how firm and squeezable they must be. Fantasizing about your young tits had him rolling his hips against the wooden leg of the table.
If Anakin locking your legs around his shoulders to dig deeper into your cunt wasn’t enough to have you convulsing, his tongue breaching into you and maneuvering it like it was actually fucking you, did.
“Anakin, I’m close- Oh,” You could barely hold yourself, deciding to lean limp against the hard surface, waiting for Anakin to sweep you off your feet with an outstanding orgasm. 
“That’s right, you’re gonna come on my tongue. How does that feel?” Anakin pushed, squeezing your ass and bringing your core over to him to devour. Like the certified slut you were, you rocked your hips against his face, relishing on the massage his nose inflicted on your most sensitive part. “Fucking your boyfriend’s dad face. This has to be a world record.”
Anakin stared at you over your mound, drinking the heavenly sight of your face contorting in ecstasy by his doing. Such a pretty, young thing, so slick and wet… coming undone by his tongue. And his tongue only. 
“Such a slut… my slut.” He degraded you with darkened eyes, amazed at how those words only had you trembling harder. “Only wanting to come on my tongue, by my cock. Isn’t that right?”
You nodded, taking the little spaces he gave you in between words to fight off the pending peak; you didn’t want this to be over. You needed more from him, you needed everything. 
“Y-yes!” You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for the familiar wave of satisfaction. 
“Yes, what?” Anakin teased.
Would you dare?
“Yes, daddy!” You screamed when your climax toppled you over. 
Anakin had the minimal kindness of not rubbing your choice of words on your face as you came over his fingers, dripping not only on his hand, but his table. This climax in particular had you weak; the aftershocks prolonged for more than you were used to and legs trembled as if you had just worked out. It could have been because you hadn’t had one in so long, or maybe because of his skillful tongue. Probably a combination of both. But truth be told, it was the best orgasm of your life. 
Even with dizzy eyes you could spot the bulge twitching inside his fitted pants. He had promised you just a little taste, but it was so unfair to leave him like that. Right?
Right?
Boosting yourself up, you directed your hand straight to his waistband, actively searching to fish his cock. 
“What are you doing?” Anakin questioned but did little to no effort to stop your wandering touch. 
You didn’t give an answer, instead lips pouted with a fixed stare, you let your actions speak for you. After unbuckling his belt, you loosened his pants, being faced with the opportunity of a lifetime. Anakin sucked his breath in when he saw your nails dipping under the elastic of his underwear, shaky exhales at the expectation of contact. You were unaware of it, you wouldn’t even believe it, but it had been a while for him too. Besides his own hand, he hadn’t known the touch of someone else in so long and Padmé didn’t even do the trick by now. 
So when Anakin saw your widened eyes as you scope up his erection from its confinements, he felt the same rush he used to savor with other conquests whenever Padmé and he were on a on-and-off break. But this was better, so much more electric. Your surprised gasp at his big cock elevated his ego to new highs. It just confirmed what he already knew: that you’ve dealing with stupid boys, when you deserved a real man. 
And Anakin was exactly that. 
His eagerness pushed you to envelope your hand around his shaft with more confidence, your fingers struggling to meet around it because of the delicious girth. Anakin let go as soon as he felt you tugging his length, crumbling on your shoulder, barely supporting himself on the edge of the table at each side of your hips. Being the big man he was, you didn’t expect Anakin to be so vocal during sex, but fuck were you wrong. Whimpers started to spill from his lips, landing right on your ear. It was the most exquisite sound you’ve heard. 
It was just so hot to have him completely surrender to you, to the will of your hand. Gladly, you pumped harder and faster, expecting to hear more of his inviting sounds. Having the upper hand encouraged you to try and lead the situation, turning his head by his chin with two fingers, sucking in his bottom lip as a first move before properly kissing him. Jacking him off while he still had his pants on, had you squeezing your thighs, the sight turning on a switch for you.
He followed your initiative and dipped his very own fingers to take care of you again. He would do it as many times as you needed, just for his own amusement. Closing his eyes, he sighed in content when his digits were fully installed inside of your warm walls. 
“That’s it, that’s the stuff.” He smiled into the words, making you cry even louder at the intrusion. He couldn’t stop praising you, he was too fascinated by you. “Always so wet for me. Fuck, yes. So wet and slick, ready to let me in. I adore this young pussy.”
You sobbed at the last words he pronounced, Anakin cracking a wicked grin. He was mesmerized by how unfiltered and vulgar your dark side turned out to be. Finally a worthy opponent.
Anakin and you worked on each other until you were both grazing the edge: sloppily kissing, moaning on each other's mouths and exchanging the same air by just how close you were. The scene replicated the rush and eagerness of a young couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other’s pants. It was so intimate, yet distant at the same time.
Because he wasn’t technically fucking you his conscience weighted a bit less. Using that logic, Anakin found comfort that, as long as you two kept your shenanigans at hand stuff, there was no reason why he should be called a cheater. It was two people exchanging favors.
It was him shaking you off his system.
“A-Anakin, you make me feel so good. Please.” You squealed when he circled around your clit with his thumb as his thick fingers worked in and out of you. 
“Next time you touch yourself, you’ll think of these fingers, you’ll think of me.” Anakin grunted, flicking your nub without care. He relished on the little scream you let out.
Anakin felt the exciting clench when he inserted his third finger in, your contorted face tattling you anyway. That was good news, because he was close too. It was hard for him not to when you were looking like sin itself with your dress discarded at waist level, cheeks flushed and mouth hung open, begging to be fucked by his tongue. 
Anakin wanted to grip you, rip you apart, crush you under the weight of his desire. He needed to have all of you in order to move on, so the next half of his life was spent dreaming about the feeling of you, as an alternative of a lifetime simply wandering. And as much as he wanted to extend this moment forever, your constant spasms were threat enough to let him know release was right around the corner.
Gushing on him again, you felt your body going limp. Smiling to the ceiling, you thought about how Anakin had ended your miserable drought with two winning orgasms. It was so intense, you were actually ashamed of how many unholy sounds you squealed but it didn’t make sense why a simple hand job would feel so good.
Flipping onto your stomach at the speed light, Anakin needily pulled up the bottom of the dress until your ass was bare and exposed for him to fondle as he pleased, panting frantically. You didn’t even felt ashamed when he split you open; you offered yourself to him even more and he fucking loved it.
He fucking loved how shameless you were, how excited for his attention you got. A breath of fresh air, that was you. 
But right when Anakin was about to give into his darkest desires, right about to cross the line between wrong and utterly wrong, gripping the edges of the table while trembling as his cock sat an inch away from your entrance…
Just one little push and he would taste heaven.
Just one little thrust and he would know glory in the purest form. 
The debate raged inside of him, a bead of sweat falling from his temple. He was only torn away from his mental debate when your impatient orbs peep from over your shoulder. 
“Please.” You whined, shaking your ass to entice him. “P-please do it, daddy. I’m begging, I really am.” 
Knees weak, Anakin was about to cave.
Just one swing of his hips. Just one tiny buck-
Another whine came out of you, but a disappointing one, this time provoked by Anakin jacking himself off until he was covering your heart-shaped cheeks with the viscous liquid you desperately wanted to swallow. Holding your jaw so you would make eye contact with him, Anakin put two cum-covered fingers in front of you, almost spurting a second time when your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the taste. His jizz was as good as dessert, for fuck’s sake.
But things come to an end.
“This can’t ever be known.” Anakin finally picked himself up from behind you, buttoning his pants as he shook his head, clearing his throat. It felt like he was talking to himself,  “This- uhm, this never happened. Never happened...”
“But it did. And I liked it.” Not fixing your dress so he would be greeted by your perky nipples, you turned to face him. “In fact, I loved it. I kinda want more.” You tilted your head, eyeing his groin without a filter. “Don’t you want more, daddy?” You had found a weak link and Anakin was making absolutely no effort to hide the effects of the word on him. 
Of course he wanted more. He wanted everything. Especially when you were staring at him with those eyes, and that hair, and those tits- God, those firm, perky tits were getting to him.
The phone he had installed for inner communication inside the house rang. It was Padmé calling him to sleep, the noise from his workshop disturbing her dreams. A nerve-wracking feeling took over you as soon as the phone call ended, you evidently awaiting for his next statement. 
He would either stay or leave. As simply as that. 
In or out?
When Anakin took one bite of the pie as he fixed his eyes on you, you smirked as a mirror of his own smile. 
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taglist : @darthgloris @ingrid69ers @shulipp @bookishnights03 @anakinswh0re419 @fuckmyskywalker@dxviiin @bby-imasociopath @adoringanakin @d0llfacehgwts@daddyissuesbabygirl
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lukefics · 1 year
Note
Hi! Can I request a fluffy/comfort Luke x Reader, where reader has just been going through a lot and Luke is there to have their back and make them feel better? Thanks!
The Storm Will Pass
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Pairing: Luke Skywalker x GN! Reader
Summary: When the weight of the world becomes too much to bear, Luke is there to comfort you.
Warnings/Content: Mentions of blood/injury, minor bullying, alcohol, feelings of depression, strong language, angst ending in fluff, mutual pining.
A/N: my first request! be warned tho - it’s very long. also i apologise in advance for any unfamiliar slang, i’m scottish lmao. that being said i hope you enjoy, pls let me know what you think! <3
──────── ༻❁༺ ────────
It had felt like the entire universe had been against you recently - if such a thing was possible. It had been a busy couple of weeks for you and your rebel comrades, what with the Alliance moving its new base of operations to the ice planet of Hoth, you'd barely had a moment to breathe.
The transition to your new home, Echo Base, hadn’t been the most straightforward. Immediately upon arrival, there were issues; starfighters wouldn’t fire up due to the cold, equipment had gone missing in transit. Since then almost every day something had gone wrong, and as luck would have it - or rather lack thereof - today would be no different.
You were currently in the repair hangar perched on top of a Blue Squadron X-Wing trying to fix its faulty hyperdrive, your grey overalls and padded snow jacket covered in oil and grime. This was the third time this hyperdrive had packed in this week, and now the task of repairing it again had been assigned to you. You’d been at it all morning; removing parts, dismantling parts, putting them back together with your hypdrospanner or replacing them entirely, trying to get the ship back in full working order.
Your hands, which were gloveless as it was the only way you could reach and grab smaller components in tight spaces, were freezing which only made the job more difficult. Why High Command couldn't have chosen to establish their new headquarters on a planet with a tropical climate instead, you had no idea.
"You're still working on that hyperdrive, Y/L/N?" You looked down to the hangar floor to see the unimpressed face of the base’s Chief Technician glaring up at you.
You swallowed nervously and assured him, "I'm almost done, sir."
But that answer wasn't satisfactory, "Do you think if the Empire were to find this base they'd give us a fair chance and wait around until our ships were in working order before launching an attack? No - so get a move on!"
"Yes, sir." you nodded, your voice quiet and heart pounding.
Shaking his head as he stormed off, the older man left you to it. You sighed, returning to your work. Miserable git, you thought to yourself. He'd been getting on at you and the other technicians even more so than usual, probably because of the huge backlog of repairs yet to be done due to the missing equipment. Just a few days ago he'd called you 'useless' for being a minute late for your shift. You were exhausted from all the overtime you’d been doing recently, which was why you’d slept in, but that wasn’t a good enough excuse - he’d made that clear when he threatened you with disciplinary action if it happened again.
Knowing it'd only be a matter of time before he came back and gave you another earful, you quickened your pace, trying to get this hyperdrive fixed as soon as possible. However, just as you were going to install a new coupling, in your haste your hand grazed against the edge of some sharp metal inside the hyperdrive bay.
"Ah fuck!" you seethed as you dropped the coupling and clutched your injured hand, the gash across your palm beginning to bleed. Great, what next? Quickly grabbing a rag from inside your jacket pocket you crudely wrapped it around your hand, biting down hard on your bottom lip to stop yourself from emitting a very loud string of curse words, before climbing down the ship's ladder and going to find help.
Half an hour later you were sat on a bed in the base's med bay, your hand being tended to by one of the Alliance's medical droids. You zoned out on your boots and the sterile white floor beneath them as 2-1B finished stitching up your wound, occasionally wincing in pain when it hurt most. You couldn't believe you'd made such a rookie mistake. You were an experienced technician; in the Alliance long enough that you could probably take apart an X-Wing and put it back together with your eyes closed. You could only imagine the lecture you were going to receive from the Chief Techie about your carelessness, probably in the middle of the main hangar for everyone to witness.
But you could hardly focus on that. Sitting here, you could feel the exhaustion of the last few weeks washing over you, your mind drifting a million parsecs away. Being in the Alliance was always hard work - you had signed up for it - that wasn’t the problem. It was the frayed patience’s of your colleagues, the gruelling extra hours and being stuck on a frozen hellscape which didn’t help general morale one bit.
You were brought back to reality by 2-1B talking you through the aftercare of your wound and to return in a week to have your stitches removed. Thanking the medical droid for his aid, you hopped down from the bed and left the med bay, sighing quietly as you walked through Echo Base’s maze of underground tunnels.
༻❁༺
You couldn't return to duty until your hand had begun to heal so you retreated to your quarters for the rest of the evening. Your roommate was working a late shift which meant you had the room to yourself, a fact you were quite happy about as the last thing you wanted to do after today's events was socialise. You were laying there in your bunk reading a holobook absentmindedly when there was a knock at the door.
Getting out of your bunk and padding over to the entrance to your room, you worried about who it might be. Pressing the button to open it, the hydraulic door whooshed open to reveal your best friend Luke, still dressed in his orange flight suit, “Hey!”
Your eyes widened in both surprise and joy, “Luke!" you practically jumped into the boy’s arms, “I wasn’t expecting to see you till next week - when did you get back?”
“About five minutes ago. The mission was over sooner than planned.” Luke laughed, hugging you back. He was about to pull away but your arms around him didn’t loosen. You closed your eyes as an unexpected wave of emotions hit you, compelling you to hold him just that little bit longer. The pilot didn’t question it, he just rubbed your back comfortingly as the two of you continued to embrace.
Luke had been on a relief mission with his squadron to the Eriadu system for two weeks. It was always hard to watch him leave on long missions, being as close as you were, not knowing if you’d see him again. This time though, what with everything going on, it had been even harder, “I’m so glad you’re back.” you mumbled into his shoulder before finally letting him go.
“So am I,” Luke gave you that sweet smile which always made your heart flutter. However, his cheerful expression immediately changed to one of concern when he noticed your bandages, “Hold on, what happened to your hand?”
Taking your injured hand gently in his, you reassured him, “Oh, that? Stupid mistake while fixing an X-Wing today. Just a couple of stitches - I’ll live.”
“Still, must be painful,” Luke grimaced, “You sure you’re okay?”
You nodded, "It’s actually not that bad. Those medical droids patched me right up, and the painkillers I was given have been taking the edge off. If the pain gets worse, I can always take enough to completely knock myself out - then I won’t feel a thing.” you joked.
“Yeah, maybe don’t do that,” Luke chuckled, running his thumb over the back of your bandaged hand, his eyes softening, “I really missed you, Y/N.”
You pushed your emotions down into the pit of your stomach, giving him a wavering smile, “I missed you too.”
Carefully letting go of your hand, Luke gestured to the door, “The squad and some of the others on base are having a couple of drinks to celebrate the success of the mission. You’ll be joining us, right?”
Your smile had faltered almost completely, “I dunno, Luke. As much as I’d like to, I’m just not…feeling it tonight.”
You hoped your friend wouldn’t pick up that something else was wrong, but Luke knew you too well. He stepped forward again, “Are you sure there’s nothing else bothering you? You don’t seem…yourself?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Honest. I’m just tired…that-that’s all…” Before you could stop it from happening, a lone tear rolled down your cheek. Embarrassed, you quickly wiped it away and avoided eye contact with the boy in front of you.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Luke moved closer, cupping your chin to encourage you to look up at him, the gentle act just making it harder not to completely fall apart.
“I’m-I’m sorry, I dunno where that came from," you managed to utter with a shaky voice as you waved your hand dismissively, "Just ignore me, I’m being an idiot.”
“No, you’re not. C’mon, sit down.” the pilot coaxed softly, bringing you over to the edge of your bed and sitting you down. You’d managed to stop more tears - for now. But the way Luke was looking at you, with those blue eyes filled with such care and concern, you knew you’d be struggling to keep them at bay. Sitting down beside you, he ran his hand up and down the side of your arm, “What’s going on?”
As much as you wanted to bottle it up and insist that you were fine, there wasn't much point. You knew that if you really didn’t want to go into detail, Luke would understand, but he was your best friend - he was the last person you'd want to lie to.
“It's nothing, it’s just…these last few weeks, as you know, have been so hectic. I think the stress is just getting to me a bit, that’s all.”
"You wanna talk about it? Only if you want to, of course." Luke asked. It never failed to amaze you just how kind the former farmboy was. His aunt, who he rarely talked about but from what you'd gathered from past conversations was like a mother to him, had done an outstanding job raising him, that was for sure.
You sighed quietly, “Well, the Chief Techie has been on my case, but that’s nothing new.”
Luke scoffed at the mention of his name, well aware of how he could be from the many stories you had told him, “Asshole.”
“Agreed,” you replied, “He’s been relentless recently. No matter what we do, or how fast we work, it’s not good enough for him. He had a go at me today for taking too long on a task. That’s how I made that mistake and injured myself - because I was rushing.” you looked down at your bandaged hand, “Still, I should have been more careful.”
“Are you being serious? Y/N, that’s not okay,” Luke stated, his voice stern, “I can mention this to Command, if you want?”
That brought an amused smile to your face, “Of course, I forget - you have the power to do that now, Commander Skywalker.” you emphasised the title of his new rank.
“I’m not looking for a power trip opportunity,” Luke rolled his eyes and nudged your arm, “I’m trying to look out for you.”
“I know you are, Luke,” you reached over and took his hand in your uninjured one, “And I’m grateful for that, but it’s not just him. I haven’t mentioned it before but…I’ve not been feeling like myself for a while now,” tears began to well in your eyes, “I’ve been trying to stay positive, brush it off as fatigue but, I dunno, I’ve just been feeling so…useless lately. Like I can’t do anything right. And after these last couple of weeks, I think I might be starting to believe it.”
Before you could stop it from happening, tears began to stream down your cheeks as you covered your mouth to silence a quiet sob.
“Hey, come here. Come here.” Luke said softly as he immediately moved closer and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him. Letting the floodgates open, you cried into the pilot's chest. Luke rested his chin on top of your head as he held you tightly, one hand rubbing your shoulder; the other gently combing through your hair, "You're not useless, Y/N. I've never met anyone more knowledgeable and hard-working as you - and I'm not just saying that because you're my friend. Please don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
You couldn't even respond due to your outpour of emotions so you just closed your eyes and sank further into him, his body warmth which radiated against you welcoming against the cold air of Echo Base. He smelled faintly of hyperfuel and standard-issue soap, and you knew that if you weren’t so upset you’d probably be blushing furiously at your close proximity. Your feelings towards Luke had grown from that of friendship to something more a while ago, and while you suspected he might feel the same, neither of you had dared to make a move out of fear of ruining the relationship you already had. You were fond of the farmboy’s company and the bond you shared, it was too precious a thing to risk losing. But that didn’t stop your gaze from falling to his lips when he spoke to you, or your heart from skipping a beat when you made him laugh and your mind from wandering; lost in tender thoughts about what could be. After a while, your tears began to cease.
"I’m so sorry, Luke. You’ve been back all of ten minutes and you've already had to deal with this.” you managed to say between stuttered breaths, fearing you'd made a complete fool of yourself and your friend uncomfortable.
“Don’t be silly, there’s no need to apologise. If anyone should, it’s me,” You looked up at him confused, “I’m sorry you’ve been going through this, Y/N. I want you to know that if you need someone to talk to, vent to, or cry to,” he reached over and gently wiped away the last remaining tears away from your reddened cheeks, “No matter what, even if I’m away on a mission, I’ll be at the other end of that comlink as soon as I can. I’ll be there for you - always.”
You smiled gratefully, “Thank you, Luke.”
Smiling back, the pilot hesitated slightly before leaning in and placing a kiss on your forehead, the loving act surprising you as he’d never done anything like that before. You looked at each other for a moment after. Neither of you said anything because you didn’t know what to say, but luckily you didn’t have to - what could be read in your eyes said more than enough. The two of you would talk about it later as the sound of Luke’s said comlink interrupted the silence.
“That’s Wedge wondering where I am.” Luke said as he started getting up, “You sure you won’t come along, even just for a bit?”
You thought about it for a moment, now feeling a hundred times better than you did the first time he’d asked, “You know what? I will actually," you smiled and put on your boots, "Only if Han's there, though. Is the Falcon still here?"
"Yeah, it was there when I walked through the main hangar, I don't think him and Chewie are leaving till the morning," Luke gave you a curious look as he helped you put your heavy snow jacket on when he noticed you struggling one-handed, "Why?"
"Because I need cheering up and he's great entertainment after a few drinks," you explained, "It's like he has a complete personality transplant!"
Luke laughed at your comment as the hydraulic door opened and the two of you left your quarters, "Don't let him hear you say that."
"Can’t make any promises, but I’ll try my best." you chuckled as Luke nudged your arm amusedly again, the two of you walking through the frozen corridors of Echo Base to meet up with the rest of your rebel comrades.
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eveningserenityyy · 9 months
Text
Home for The Holidays | Oneshot
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Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Luke Skywalker x reader
Word Count: 4268
Summary: Upon bringing you back home with him and his family for the holidays, Luke realises that he misses having you all to himself.
A/N: Merry Christmas! Decided to do something for ~slutmas~, and I do hope you enjoy! The editing isn't as heavy with this one, but I really like how it turned out.
Coming home for the holidays is perhaps the best part of college, now able to relax with family and the perfect aesthetic of the christmas season as school is but a small worry in the back of one's mind; meant to be ignored and dealt with at a later time when the tidings end with the 25th.
Luke had brought you home with him to spend this Christmas with his family, all of whom were perfectly amiable and so very welcoming towards you. A response any partner is lucky to receive.
Your friend Han had tagged along too, being Leia’s guest as well. It made for quite the amusing holiday season, for Han was by no means the favourite of the Skywalker patriarch. Anakin, their father, gave him a hard time even for the simple act of breathing; nevertheless, Han made a great effort to impress the man that he hoped would become his father-in-law in the near-ish future.
You got off lucky, more than Han, at least. Anakin was a very protective father, weary of the partners of BOTH his kids. He made that quite clear the first time he had met you, but your advantage was in the fact that you made a far better first impression than Han ever did.
…That particular incident of Han’s misfortunes gets passed around quite a bit, as often as Anakin can mention it at least. No mere words could truly explain the extent to which this first meeting had gone so poorly, for you simply had to be there; all that shall be said is Han offended his mother, broke two chairs, and almost caused the death of the beloved family dog, Artoo, in less than ten minutes.
Furthermore, you found yourself to be having a wonderful time, perfectly fit for the season. Padme was generous with each of you, making sure that you felt welcomed and loved by the family. You baked cookies with her, helped with the tree (the whole family did, really, but you did almost pull a muscle collecting the boxes of ornaments from the basement), and she even took you around town to enjoy the beautiful Christmas lights as you bonded. 
You adored how much she loved both her children, always gushing about her son to you, or showing you terribly embarrassing photos of Luke. Anakin was certainly rough around the edges on the other hand, but you too adored how much he cared about his kids just the same, the only difference being the intensity of it. Yet, despite this you had your moments with the father as well; and at one point had even made him laugh, which is quite the win in your book.
Luke was ecstatic that things, for the most part, were going so great. He absolutely adored and cherished how his family took to you, treating you like one of their own as you fit right in. He hoped many more christmas’ and other such holidays like this were to come, with you by his side each and every time. 
He found himself unable to look away every time you smiled, or laughed at one of his dad’s terrible jokes. He was wholeheartedly in love with you, not at all regretting his bringing you home with him for even one second. This was, in all honesty, the perfect christmas- he had you to thank for making it all the more merry.
He got you under the mistletoe any chance he could, watching your cheeks deepen their rosy tint as you got utterly and completely flustered, especially when a member of his family was close by. 
And when you were helping bake some holiday goods, he always “innocently” made sure to come up from behind you, rubbing against you as he pushed by. At first, it had been a mere accident on his part, but you suspected that it no longer could be when he kept doing it over and over again, leaving you able to feel him growing hard as you put on a poker face. He always came up with little excuses, such as how he forgot a cookie cutter, or needed a glass of water despite the fact that he never actually got one- it made your cheeks ridiculously rosy, constantly blushing every time you felt him against you as his mother asked if you were feeling feverish…
Oh, you were feeling something, but not the kind of feelings you could confide in her about. Ahem. Just imagine what Anakin would think of all the things you wish to do to his son…actually, dont.
He was getting more handsy as the days went by, forgetting that his family is constantly around the corner. He didn't even think about it at times, only driven by the need to touch and hold you close without considering the consequences.
The cons of staying with his family had begun to bother him, never really getting a moment alone with you as of late. As Anakin didn’t like Han, you weren’t even allowed to sleep in the same room- he had to bunk with Han, and you with Leia.
None of you were exactly fond of this, and even Padme fought against it before the horrors of pregnancy and a stagnant college career was planted in her mind. She very much wanted her children to be successful, therefore that was enough to cause her to agree with her husband. 
…okay, there's also the fact that she could understand the uh, the needs her children had…but as long as you’re safe, then for the love of everything keep it out of her house- that was also something she needed to be respected, but would never say when her husband is close by. He just didn't want it. Period. He would rather strangle himself with the tinsel than have such a conversation.
Poor Luke was aching to touch you, missing the privacy you had in a dorm room this past week. He found himself constantly having to hide how hard he was, his pants getting tight every time he even so much as looked at you. It was embarrassing, always sitting with a pillow in his lap when you all huddled together to watch a Christmas classic.
It's just the way he was; easily turned on (By you, specifically- he was head over heels for you, truth be told), and terribly needy for your attention and delicate touch. He had to stop himself from dropping to his knees and begging for you to touch him as he usually would when he got aroused, this not being the time nor the place for that.
You observed how flustered he got himself, how bad he was fighting away the thoughts…and perhaps it was mean, but you couldn’t help but tease him just a little for it. 
It started with brushing a hand against his bulge, or hungrily making out with him in the car before abruptly pulling away as he whined and tried to pull you back into his lap, or kissing his neck in a quiet hallway; which, for the record, you knew quite well would set him off like crazy. Your lips on his throat could have his knees buckling any second, hell- the mere scent of your perfume had him locking himself in a bathroom to stroke the desires away, silencing the noises he couldn’t help but make when he thought of you.
The poor boy was just burning up because of you, so close to fucking you on the family dining table no matter who walked in- okay, i mean…he cared a little about that, but still. Point is that he is so terribly desperate, to the point his brain is heavily fogged and clouded with images of you at all times, images where you adorn the prettiest lingerie as your fingertips trace along his skin, exciting him immensely as he bucks his hips into you…
That's why when he heard the family was going out for some snowmen building competitions, he made damn sure to fool his family into thinking that he was sick, and insisting that you go to the pharmacy and come back whilst his family went without you two.
You genuinely thought he was ill, therefore thought not much of it. Padme was, of course, concerned but relented after Luke argued he didn’t need his mommy to take care of him constantly and that she deserved to go enjoy herself. She laughed, going along with it as she hugged him goodbye.
Han, on the other hand, shot him a look of envy yet said nothing more. He only cared about impressing Anakin, therefore thankfully kept his mouth shut. At this point, there was no room for acting like a little shit- this was, in their horny minds, a time of war. They stood in solidarity with one another.
As soon as you got back and walked through the door, he pounced on you once you’d rid yourself of your winter layers. He pressed you hard against the wall, lips on yours and tongue locked with your own as you let out an involuntary moan at the surprise sensations. The vibrations of your aroused moans were enough to make his erection almost painful.
His grip on you was firm, hands slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt and feeling every inch of your flesh as he so ravenously felt you beneath his finger tips. You were like his perfect little paradise, providing everything he could ever need and love. 
“Luke…luke…” You breathed out, pushing back against him. “You-youre…sick.”
He shook his head, breathing just as heavy as his pupils grew like the grinch’s heart. “I lied, star, I lied, okay? Please, please I need you so bad- will you let me, please?”
Oh, his begging was all you needed to hear. He pleads to have you melted your heart, and you just wanted to wrap him up with a pretty red bow like the cutest christmas present one could ask for. You felt your lips curve into a smile as you nodded, giving him the very answer he desired as you violently tugged you upstairs and to his childhood bedroom. 
He couldn't wait a second longer as he shut the door behind himself, violently slamming shut as he immediately began to unbuckle his belt, letting his pants drop to the floor as he tugged his christmas sweater over his head, messing with the golden brown locks on his head. You loved how he had seemed so pristine one moment with his hair neat and brushed back, to messy and ravenous the very next. 
His hands were on you without you getting a second more to undress yourself, almost ripping your blouse from your body as he then pushed you onto his bed, allowing giggles to slip from between your lips as he tugged the pants off from your legs.
There was so much he wanted to do to you, but so little time, it was almost unfair. He couldn’t spend all the time in the world admiring you as he usually would, needing to be quick with you instead- he loved to kiss every inch of your flesh, playing with your breasts and eating you out for hours before he could even think of being inside of you.
Shivers ran throughout your skin as you gazed at him, watching as his eyes were glossed with love and lust as he looked over you, noticing how your bra and panties matched; a bright red bow on the front of your panties that made him feel like he was about to unwrap the best christmas present ever received by man. He could feel himself throbbing, craving nothing more than to be inside you while you moan for him.
Yet you had other plans, immediately sitting up and tugging at the waistband of his boxers. You couldn’t take the sight of him like this much longer, knowing how bad he needed to be touched. His eyes said it all, and the way his mouth hung open when he looked at you. “Did I do this to you? Oh Luke…let me make it better, hm?”
“Please…” It was as if that was all he could say, all he knew as he begged and begged again. His lips were in a perfect pout, and you would have kissed them if it wasn’t for the idea of placing them somewhere more useful.
He wanted to treat you, but the feeling of you tugging the fabric that felt so tight against his cock broke him completely. He felt like a mess, and he certainly was; but a beautiful one in your eyes. 
In a second his boxers were wrapped around his ankles as your hand came to grip the base of his cock, hard and ready for you as precum leaked from the rosy tip. He was sure he might just cum right there, already letting out a strangled hum of a moan the moment you touched him.
You gave him a few pumps, nice and slow as you felt the pulsing of his veins against your palm, every inch of him begging for more. You thus ran up and along to caress his tip, a whimper falling from his lips as he pouted all over again. He was so sweet, sweet and pretty as he surrendered to you.
“-Need your mouth, oh star…please. It feels so good…” His voice was shaky, needing you more than anything right now. You couldn’t believe the state that had overcome him in only a week of being denied you. 
You adored how he begged for you like this, feeling so wanted and as if you held so much power over him all at once. You could feel the arousal pooling in your panties as you listened to the noises he revealed all because of you.
You licked a stripe up his length before you pressed your lips to the tip, placing a gentle kiss as he shivered under your touch. You couldn’t just let him wait any longer when he needed you so badly, feeling terrible for torturing him in a season so full of love and giving. 
You wrapped your lips around his head, pursing your lips to gently suck the sensitive pink head as he whimpered, fighting off the urge to thrust into your perfect mouth. Your eyes met his own as your lashes framed them so beautifully, and he thought you to appear so delicate as you pleased him like this.
As you took more of him into the velvety warmth of your wet mouth, caressing the length of his cock with your tongue and suctioning your cheeks to suck him off better as you gave a light bop of your head, he was already so very close to drifting off into ecstasy. Every stroke of your tongue had him moaning your name, craving more as his hands slipped into your hair and began to grip either side of your head, carefully guiding you to take him further until tears brimmed your eyes due to his head thrusting against the back of your throat; his mouth hung open as unintelligible noises symphonized from within him, unravelling into a true mess of a man.
He had no time to warn you as the waves of pleasure were released upon him, causing his legs to shake rather violently as he came in your mouth. Fortunately, you already found yourself quite familiar with the telltale signs, having felt the coming of his orgasm as you happily swallowed what he gave you. You took great pride in making him feel so good, such raw pleasure- you enjoyed when he lost himself in it just a little, his grip becoming firmer in time as a desire for more was spoken through moans, knowing it was okay to do so with you.
He was panting as you pulled back, his cock still hard with arousal and need as you looked up at him with the sweetest glossy eyes. You were highly aroused yourself, almost considering grinding into the mattress beneath you as you watched him calm down from the high you’d caused. He thus dropped down next to you at the edge of the bed, looking at you with nothing but love and affection, a hand on your cheek. “I’m- i’m sorry…I didn’t…didn’t mean to do that so soon.”
You placed a hand on his thigh, caressing it as he sighed so heavenly. “Don’t be sorry when you know I like making you feel good too.”
“C’mere…” He murmured, placing his fingers upon your chin as he guided you towards him, pulling you onto his lap as you gave a light gasp at the surprise of it.
He pressed a kiss to your lips that was so sweet and perfectly gentle for the few moments in which it lasted, still breathless as he so suddenly turned the two of you around in order for you to be on your back beneath him and he above you. He grinded himself against your dripping cunt, causing you to moan aloud as his pupils grew again. “Need to be inside you, pretty star…will you let me fuck you?”
The request itself melted you into a little muddle, nodding aggressively to encourage him as a smile tugged at your lips. “I’ve wanted that since we got here.”
You both chuckled, faces pink with lust as he stopped himself from ripping your panties off, instead tracing a finger over the rim in adoration before gently prying them off your legs. It felt like he was unwrapping a perfect present, just as he suspected. He noticed how wet they were, the slick of your arousal dripping from between your thighs as he removed them. 
He lined himself up between your legs, caressing your waist as he did so. He slid his tip through your slit, rubbing up against your cit as you found yourself to be the one whining this time, wanting more of him- needing more.
It wasn’t solely Luke who had been desperate. Both of you had deeply yearned for each other, already quite unable to keep your hands off of each other for more than a day as it is- and even that is impressive.
Neither one of you had time for teasing, that being quite clear as his head penetrated your entrance, causing both of you to moan in unison as he buried himself inside of you after having dreamt of it for what felt like so terribly long. His cock dragged along your walls as he drifted further inside you with ease due to the pool of arousal that he’d been the reason for.
A great fog clouded your mind as he was finally buried as far as he could go, filling you to the brim as he took this moment to relax and catch up to his very much needed breaths. He was so wound up from the past week, so eager to please both you and himself that he forgot he needed to breathe too.
You gripped the toned muscles of his upper arms, keeping him close as you pulled him flush against you. Him now acting almost as a weighted blanket. “Stay like this for a minute for me, if that's okay.”
“Yeah, yeah…” He nodded, pressing a sweet kiss to your neck as you enjoyed the feeling of him inside of you, a feeling you had missed. He could barely speak when he was revelling in the feeling of you squeezing his cock.
“I love your family but…maker…it's so hard.” As you confessed, it did not take much time for you to realise how that sounded, beginning to giggle as he did just the same.
“I mean-”
“I know, I know what you mean.” He had the cutest grin on his face as he lifted himself up just enough to press another kiss to the tip of your nose, resting his arm next to your head as he swiped a piece of hair away from your face. “I missed having you all to myself.”
He felt you clench around him as he spoke such words, holding back a grunt as he was reminded of the effect he has on you when he's being so sweet on you. “Then fuck me before they get home, hm?”
That was your signal for him to pry himself off of your chest, of which he did quite swiftly as his hands flew to your waist, holding you down firmly with care. He began to pull out, feeling the warmth of your walls around him as he pushed himself back, starting slow and steady before warming up to more.
Immediately did you throw your head back against the mattress, a muffled moan struggling to sneak past your lips as your brows furrowed together. He never took his eyes off of your face, enjoying how he affected you with just one thrust inside your cunt. You were too deprived to be less affected. 
It's funny how he was supposed to be the needy one, yet here you are, impaled on his cock as desire fills your head.
Although, it does indeed affect him just as much. His previous pleads with you for pleasure are now happily satisfied by more moans of his own as his cock drifts in and out of your pussy, picking up the pace with every thrust he takes each one faster than the last. Soon enough, he finds himself snapping his hips into your own, his thighs beginning to shake as he tries his best not to cum yet; his lips are in a pout as he finds himself whimpering all over again, denying himself to make sure you get to cum before him.
You're writhing beneath him, the head of his cock pounding into you at the perfect angle as his name passes your lips over and over again. You can feel the heat build within you as your walls clench around him, looking up to catch a glimpse of him when your eyes capture him mid moan, his lips quivering and all. 
“C-cum with me, honey…” You bring a hand to his face, pulling him down towards you as you connect with his lips. The kiss is sloppy and open mouthed as he nods, each of you erupting with sounds of pleasure as the floodgates of ecstasy begin to unleash itself.
At once, do your orgasms hit in unison, feeling his cum fill you up in strings as the warmth coats itself inside you. Your lips meet his neck as he lurches upwards on account of his release, still pounding his cock into you until the waves come to a calm halt.
You wrap your arms around him as he collapses over you, panting as one after such a climax. It takes a moment for either one of you to say anything, for you find yourselves content with the comforting silence, your breaths the only thing to be heard at this moment in time.
You love these moments, the intimacy together; whether that be before, after, or during. You like to listen to the change of his breaths, wondering what he may be thinking as he calms himself down from the high each of you were just on. 
And he likes to do just the same, of course. He could never have this with anyone else, nothing so special as what he has with you, and those breaths of which stem from a session of love making remind him of how absolutely lucky he is to have found you.
Finally, when you do eventually speak, it's to make a joke as your hot breath hits his flesh. “One hell of a christmas present.”
He snorts, feeling his lips curve against the flesh of your neck as you say it. He only then stands up, pulling out of you as his release leaks out of you and onto the fabric of the bed. With that, he pulls you up and into his arms and onto your feet before him, holding your chin with his fingertips. “You’re already mine.”
You blush, shaking your head as you attempt to hide in his chest. Of course, only Luke could make things romantic when you have his cum dripping down your legs. 
You thus chuckle a moment later, finding peace in a moment such as this once again, despite the fact that your legs may give out any second now. You pull yourself back to look at him, taking his hands in your own as you press a gentle and warm kiss to his knuckles. “I love you, Luke. Your family, just…everything.”
“I love you too.” He says back, your words remaining in the back of his mind as he pictures you as a permanent member to the Skywalker clan. “Now come on, we should get cleaned up before my parents come back- i’ll never hear the end of it if they, you know…”
You hold back from commenting on how such a sight would cause Anakin to replace all the presents with coal, knowing it would cause Luke to cringe at the very thought. 
Once each of you are showered and dressed, now safely wrapped within blankets in each other's arms with hot cocoa and a steady fire, you truly do think it to be one of the best christmas’ you've ever had.
You kiss his cheek, causing him to erupt with butterflies in the same way he did when you each had your first kiss. “Merry Christmas, Luke.”
“Merry Christmas, starlight.”
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batshieroglyphics · 7 months
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FICLET: This Easy Love ~ Star Wars Originals ~ Teen
Title: This Easy Love Fandom: Star Wars Original Trilogy Author: Batsutousai Rating: Teen Pairing: Kix/Luke Skywalker Warnings: minor wounds Prompt: From @aniseandspearmint, Kix/Luke Skywalker, "Shit, are you BLEEDING?" Summary: Kix is hurt while they're scouting a planet the Force sent Luke to.
Almost before his feet touched solid ground again, Luke grabbed him in a hug, ducking his face into the limited space between the bottom of his helmet and the top of his cuirass, a position Kix knew Luke found uncomfortable, because he complained about it constantly. Kix sighed and hugged him back, tilting his head out of the way to give Luke more space. "I may need Too-Onebee," he warned, because nothing good had ever come from letting a wound go untreated. Luke immediately let go, casting a quick look over Kix. "Are you sure? You don't look–" He froze, staring down at his hand, and Kix glanced down to see red on it. "Shit! You're bleeding!" Kix sighed, but let himself be half-pushed, half-ushered back to the ship, asking, "How bad does it look?" "The back is crushed in?" Luke asked more than said, after pausing to step back and take a look, sounding strained, before lifting his comm towards his mouth and saying, "Artoo, go wake Onebee."
Read it on Archive of Our Own! (Please note that you will require an AO3 account of your own to read. Please let me know if you need an invite code.)
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