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Summary: You're suddenly insecure about a slight change that has appeared as you’ve gotten older, but Mark reminds you how much you mean to him.
Word Count: 899
Warning(s): MEGA FLUFF, brief angst and anxiety, slight talk of negative body image, mention of a minor surgery, talks of body + upcoming period pain(s), skin, body, and scars appreciation, words of affirmation and physical touch being Mark’s love language, you are loved.
A/N: I’ve been thinking about this lately as I’ve been experiencing these discomforts. The minor surgery talk is about my own (it was a good thing)! And GOD, I need a green flag man like Mark in my life.
The morning rays of sunshine beam through the angular windows of the quiet, shared bedroom. Providing the room with natural light, the house is filled with a warmth, a sense of coziness that can’t seem to penetrate your veins. Instead, you stare blankly at your laptops blinking cursor as it unknowingly taunts you.
You just can’t seem to get the hang of how to master this annoying writer’s block. Sure, you wrote plenty of material to what feels like one and a half books by now. But nothing seems perfect. Feeling your tailbone start to ache beneath you, your tired eyes glance up at the laptops clock; 8:37 AM.
While you are a morning person, much to Mark’s personal success, you realize that you haven’t had any breakfast yet. Not even coffee. Huffing in annoyance, you set your laptop aside before giving Chica a little scratch on the back of her ear.
“You wanna get up, girl? Let’s get something to eat.” You reassure her.
Standing up from the foot of the bed, you feel the familiar shard-like ache in both of your knees and you instantly know what it means. Your period is coming.
‘Great, just another thing to deal with.’ You think to yourself.
Grabbing your silver laptop, you slowly make your way down the stairs with Chica following you in tow. Coming into the empty kitchen, the delicious scent of scrambled eggs greets you as you feel a rumble in your stomach. Setting the laptop down on the counter, the sight of a dirty pan and spatula sit on the stovetop.
Softly smirking to yourself, you figure that Mark took it upon himself to make breakfast and then retreat into his office. Sighing at spending another semi-afternoon alone, you decide that the best thing to do for now is to get a proper jump start on everything.
Starting with coffee.
Reaching for one of your many mugs in the cupboard, another all too familiar pain descends on your body again. This time, it’s the small amount of scar tissue in your right breast. Quickly setting the mug down, the object bounces off the countertop and onto the hardwood floor, shattering into multiple pieces. Stopping dead in your tracks, the sudden sound of heavy footsteps fill your ears.
Emerging from the hallway, Mark quickly rounds the corner and discovers the tiny accidental mess you made.
“What happened? Are you okay?” He asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just broke one of my favorite mugs, that’s all.” You reply in defeat.
“Stay there. Don’t move.” Mark orders, ushering Chica out of the kitchen.
Cleaning up the ceramic bits, Mark pulls down another mug before placing it next to the trusty coffee machine. Putting the dirty dishes in the sink, you lean against the counter for support, trying your best to ignore the aches. However, you still remain unlucky when it comes to hiding anything from your loved one.
“What’s wrong?” Mark questions, ushering over to help you.
“Nothing, I’m alright.” You lie.
Gesturing to sit on the marble countertop, you don’t even have time to register what comes next. Hoisting your frame onto the counter, a little gasp escapes your lips as Mark gently sits you down.
“Tell me, Y/N. Let me know what’s bothering you.” He soothes before you.
Calmly running his hands over your arms, you hesitate, believing that you’re making a situation out of nothing. But no matter how hard you try, you always fall victim to Mark’s soft dark brown eyes.
“It’s my knees, they’ve been starting to ache just before and when I get my period. Same with my scar tissue. I guess it’s just my body prepping me for a change.” You explain.
Feeling a sense of heat rise up your neck, the embarrassment slowly fades away just as Mark untucks his white t-shirt, revealing the infamous dot-like scars on his abdomen.
“You’re not alone, sweetheart. I still have mine from before I even met you. But they don’t define me, any type of scars are beautiful. I know your surgery was two years ago, it was a good thing for you. But don’t let that subtle change affect you.” He clarifies.
Clasping either side of this face, your fingers intertwine with his mid-length dark hair. Carefully massaging both of your knees, Mark slowly moves further in between your legs, wanting to be closer. Laughing lightly, you lean ever so slightly in his touch allowing Mark’s hands to curve around your waist.
“I mean, you were the one to say that scars are sexy.” You tease.
“See? I am a man of many things.” Mark replies with a sly smile.
“Including leaving your dishes in the sink? I still haven’t had the chance to make breakfast yet.” You admit defeat.
“I can give you something much better than breakfast.” He whispers.
Sliding his hands down to your legs, Mark gently squeezes the soft skin of your thighs before burying his face in the crook of your neck. His scruff tickles your sensitive skin whilst his grip grows tighter around your legs.
“No, no…! Don’t you dare, Mark!” You plead, trying to playfully push him away.
“You’re not going to win this fight. It’s better if you accept the defeat and let me take care of you.” Mark jests, picking you up from the counter and leading you deeper into the house.
In This Together: You're suddenly insecure about a slight change that has appeared as you’ve gotten older, but Mark reminds you how much you mean to him.
And boy, it just as amazing on another full watch! I don't know if it's because my tv is high definition, but all the details were INSANE!! From Simon's tattoo, to the grim on his hands, even the subtitles being PERFECT.
I'm still so proud of Mark and his team for brining this project to life. This is one of my favorite movies of this year, and hopefully it'll get me out of my fic slump!
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once again it is may the fourth, and as is customary i’ve written a fic—but this one is a bit different. on a few occasions last year i mentioned that i was working on an au where luke and andrie have a child: a daughter they name lani. well, this is the first fruit of that idea! lani’s not much of a character in this story bc she’s a baby, but in the future i hope to explore her journey and personality. for now, you should know that she’s born of andrie’s first pregnancy, about five weeks after her cousin ben solo. (i fudged ben’s birthdate a little here so they could be closer in age.) luke and andrie have stayed on chandrila, close to leia and han, while they consider where to build the new jedi temple. as this fic opens, their research has led them to choose ossus, and they’ve nearly finished preparing to leave. we join them on the day before their departure—check it out below the cut. as always, feel free to reblog and leave comments, and enjoy!
the beauty of their dreams
He’s talking to the baby when Andrie enters their apartment, and she can’t help but smile. Luke speaks to their four-month-old daughter just as he would anyone else: his voice calm and steady, no high-pitched tones or nonsense babbling.
“When you’re older,” he tells the infant, “your mother and I will teach you the ways of the Force. Maybe by then we’ll have it figured out.” Little Lani gurgles and coos, her blue eyes (nearly the same shade as his) sparkling in the mid-afternoon sun. Luke brushes back her silky red hair and touches those same fingers to her cheek. “But we don’t expect you to be a great Jedi. All we want is for you to be happy, and safe, and loved. Never, ever doubt how much we love you.”
“Wise words, General Skywalker,” Andrie calls to them as she hangs up her cloak. “For once.”
A wave of his affection washes over her, warm and comforting—and tinged with amusement. “I’m not a general anymore, remember?” Luke reminds her. “Just a Jedi.”
“No such thing,” counters Andrie, striding into the sitting room and joining her husband and daughter by the window. “I’ve learned that pretty quickly.” She presses a kiss to his cheek, then holds out her arms as Luke passes Lani to her. “Your father acts modest,” she tells the baby now snuggled to her chest, “but then again, all truly great heroes do.”
Luke’s face remains composed, but Andrie catches the pink dusting his face. “And your mother,” he counters with slightly raised eyebrows, “should know.” His words have their intended affect: she’s blushing now too. But she isn’t annoyed. Such moments prove he knows her better than anyone else.
In reply, Lani burbles a tiny giggle, curling her fist. Her parents share delighted smiles, once again in awe that she’s theirs; then they turn their gazes to the window and the bustling skyline of Hanna City beyond it. “Is the ship ready?” Luke wonders.
“Mm-hmm. The final maintenance checks came back clean. We can leave tomorrow.” Shifting Lani’s weight, Andrie’s eyes track an air taxi as it speeds past. “It’s finally happening…I almost can’t believe it.”
Luke’s mechanical hand rests on her mid-back, its presence a grounding. “Are you afraid?”
“Are you?” she immediately returns.
“…Not exactly, no,” he slowly answers. “Concerned, maybe, that Ossus won’t be all that we hope. I’ve considered waiting a bit longer, until we’ve collected more Jedi knowledge, and Lani and Ben are old enough to start training…” He sets his jaw and stands straighter. “But I trust the Force, and this is where it’s leading us. It has to be now.”
“I trust the Force too,” Andrie assures him. “And I trust you. We’ll go to Ossus and build our temple. The rest will follow as it’s meant to.”
Luke laughs softly. “You’re starting to sound like me.”
“Like I said: you do occasionally speak wisdom.” Andrie looks down at her daughter’s crown of red hair, so much like her own, and then at Luke. “No, I’m not afraid,” she declares. “But I am sad to be leaving the rest of our family. Lani won’t see them very much outside of holocalls—at least not until Ben comes to us.”
A frown creases Luke’s brow, the hand on Andrie’s back rubbing small circles. “I know,” he admits. “I miss them already. But Han and Leia understand, Andrie. They have important work of their own. We all have a part to play now.”
She nods, gaze flicking toward the direction of the Solos’ apartment. The warmth of her baby rests like a heated stone against her, this wonderful child, who cannot fathom the extraordinary things she will someday learn…and maybe even do herself. “What will her part be?” Andrie murmurs, patting Lani’s bottom.
“Master Yoda once told me that the Force is always in motion. It can show us the past, the future…or what the future might be, depending on our choices.” Luke regards his wife and child tenderly. “But whoever she becomes, the Force will always be with her.”
“And our love,” Andrie says resolutely. “No one can take that away.” She leans into Luke’s side and he carefully wraps his arm around her and Lani, the infant cooing again at the closeness of her father. The little family bask in that moment, Luke and Andrie all too aware of what was sacrificed to make it possible. And with the rising of the sun tomorrow, they will relinquish the comforts of Chandrila and set off to the wilds of Ossus, there to resurrect the Jedi Order and pass on its lessons to a new generation. One that will include their daughter and nephew—Anakin Skywalker’s grandchildren, the promise he once held born anew.
The responsibility is daunting, but they have the Force. They have each other. They are ready.
“What time did Leia want us for dinner?” Andrie questions, and Luke glances at the wall chrono.
“1900 hours,” he replies after briefly ruminating. “So we have a while yet. I think our little tooka kit—“ He tickles Lani’s chubby foot and grins at her shrill giggle. “Could use a nap.”
“Would you please stop referring to our child as a furry animal?” Andrie groans in mock-exasperation. “I’d expect it from Han, but you…”
If ever she needed proof that the farmboy from Tatooine still lived deep within the Jedi Knight, she finds it in his mischievous blue eyes and lopsided shrug. “You don’t seem to mind all the names we have for each other.”
“That’s different.”
“Not by much.”
With a sigh, Andrie concedes Luke’s point and steps back from the window. “Come on,” she beckons. “Help me put her down and we’ll have some tea.”
Luke follows them to the back bedroom, grateful for the opportunity of a small respite. There won’t be much time for that on Ossus…but then, they knew that going in. He chose to learn the ways of the Force from Obi-wan and Yoda, and Andrie in turn has chosen to learn them from him. It’s been difficult, to put it mildly, especially after Lani’s birth. It’s about to become harder still. But they know in their hearts they’d do it all over again.
“She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he admits as he draws up beside Andrie at the door. “Besides you, of course.”
“Funny,” mutters Andrie as she punches the unlock on the keypad (she’s not quite adept enough to do so with the Force yet). “I’ve thought the same thing about you.”
The happiness that radiates from Luke then could outshine the stars. Wordlessly affirming their devotion, he and she carry their treasure to her cradle, secure in knowing that this is not the end of one chapter, but the unblemished beginning of another.
Summary: The undiscovered wonders of Naboo hold many secrets waiting to be found by dear friends.
Word Count: 734
Warning(s): None, pure fluff! (Because Luke deserves every ounce of it). And slight nervousness?
A/N: Happy May the Fourth be with you!! I hope you all enjoy and feedback is appreciated! Thank you to @dragonheartstring360 for giving me this delightful idea!
The heavy scent of rain fills the air in the beautiful countryside along the Theed Palace, providing some much needed respite to the last few long hot days of summer. Relishing in the shade’s delight, you join your beloved and most trusted friend at the base of a set of stone steps.
Calming waves crash along the small pebble beach beneath the large, strong tree. Examining your handful of multicolored pebbles and smooth stones, you turn back to Luke Skywalker, who silently watches you.
“I appreciate you taking the time to come with me.” Your voice bounces against the waves.
“Of course, it’s not like I have anything else to do today.” Luke replies.
Handing a bottle of water to you, the two of you silently gaze past the beach out to the vast dark blue ocean. The strong scent of salt fills your lungs, indicating that summer is indeed here.
Gazing back at Luke, your eyes wander to his ebony set of kimono robes. Feeling the heat radiate off his all-black attire, you can’t help but feel worried for him.
“Aren’t you hot in your robes?” You ask.
“Not really. The weather here is unlike anything I’d imagine. Naboo surely puts the desert and mountains of Tatooine to shame.” He laughs.
“It surely does. I can see why Leia picked this place to rest. Besides the Royal Palace of course.” You answer, stepping up from your place on the steps.
Trekking along the beach, you come across a few freshly occupied small vines of flowers growing against a large trunk of the native tree. Not wanting to disturb the untouched ecosystem, Luke joins your side.
“These flowers, they feel …familiar.” He whispers before you.
“I’ve never seen anything like these before. They must be some kind of lily’s. It’s a shame that they’re down here on the beach. No one can see them.” You advise.
Turning your gaze away towards the island out at sea, its unknown force still calls to you. You and Luke were told not to disturb the delicate process of glass-making, but you can’t help your curiosity.
“Is that a storm forming? We should head back.” Luke cautiously advises.
Gently tugging your arm, Luke practically rushes you back to the courtyard doors. Unfortunately for the two of you, the weather has other ideas. Suddenly, the dark skies light up with a harsh rain storm, pouring the cold droplets down on Theed.
Covering his face, you lead Luke into the balcony's threshold, gasping for air as you both have barely made it in time. Shaking off your barely rain-soaked robes, Luke stares frighteningly at the change of weather. The sweet sounds of your light laughter fill the Palace hallways, swallowing the shock of your almost ruined afternoon.
“Wow, we almost didn’t make it!” You exclaim, spinning on your heel.
Watching the balcony’s stones turn dark and shiny from the large amount of water, you slowly inhale the planet’s scent in this quiet moment. The scent of the damp earth, the crisp droplets of water making landfall, and the ever-present calming sound. Quietly smiling to yourself, you bring your attention back to Luke, who is not enjoying the same state of peace as you.
“Luke, are you alright?” You ponder.
“Yeah, it’s just… I’ve never seen anything like this before. My Aunt and Uncle used to tell me stories about rain and the wonders it's capable of.” He explains.
Hesitantly reaching for the fast dropping rain, Luke quickly pulls his ungloved hand back, as if he’s afraid of nature. Slowly joining him, a cool breeze envelops the both of you.
Taking his left arm, you raise his warm hand on your own. Rubbing smooth circles and lines on his skin, Luke’s breathing begins to return to normal. Pressing soft pepper kisses on each of his knuckles, a small chuckle leaves his lips.
“Here, it’s okay.” You reassure him.
Raising his hand upwards, the cool water easily drenches Luke’s skin. Smiling at this newfound feeling, the sound of thunder claps in the distance, bringing an intensity to the afternoon.
Sitting in the balcony’s doorway, you and Luke sit peacefully together and enjoy the rain with some fresh tea that Winter surprisingly brought you. The soothing pitter-patter of the storm leaves a calming, yet bittersweet remark on Luke’s mind and soul, knowing that the best moments are with the people he loves.
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Summary: Two fates are intertwined in the same predicament with little answers, except the burdens they carry together.
Word Count: 2.4k
Warning(s): MEGA FLUFF, HEAVY ANGST, brief fighting, mentions of low self-worth, descriptions of injuries, talks of death, ENEMIES TO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, brief claustrophobia, slight cursing, SMUT – 18+ unprotected sex, p in v, missionary, crying during sex, creampie, overstimulation, basically my ovulation taking over (let me live with Simon/Mark, okay?), body appreciation, (wrap it before you tap it kids), and a sappy love confession.
A/N: Iron Lung has been fueling my creativity for the past couple of weeks and I can’t stop thinking about it… and Simon.
This was supposed to be simple. All of it was supposed to be simple, but of course, the world threw every obstacle it could against you.
Including your mission partner.
The feared Convict. The Butcher.
The man carries an unknown piece of your heart, even if he didn’t know it. Or when he pretends to ignore your existence, it slowly kills him.
The camera’s flash stains your eyes as Simon observes the grainy black and white image of a landscape beneath the sea. Watching the image slowly fade away, you silently return to your work in the corner.
“Any luck?” He asks, not giving you eye contact.
“No, nothing.” You blandly reply.
Not wanting to irritate him any further, the dark yet blank computer screen is still a mystery to you. Returning the gear to its original spot, you spot a small bright orange life vest amongst the rusted crevice.
Before you can reach for it, Simon returns to the navigation system. Hoping to continue the mission, the oceanic environment begins to hum underneath the sub from where you’re sitting. Quickly returning to your feet, you glance beyond the tiny wall, hoping that the same sound has filled Simon’s ears.
“Did you hear that?” You ask.
Simon doesn’t even bother looking up from the old map, hoping to get this done as quickly as possible.
“Hear what?” He replies.
“It sounded like …something was swimming under the submarine. I know th – the plates constantly shift, but I don’t know?” You try your best to explain.
Leaving his seat in the singular chair, Simon nearly storms toward you and presses the camera button. The bright black and white flash causes you to squint and the image of an empty “plain” appears on the screen.
Glaring into your e/c eyes, Simon’s dark brown orbs send a chill up your spine.
“See? There’s nothing here. It’s too early to be paranoid.” He angrily replies.
Returning to the chair, a loud sigh leaves his lips but it is quickly replaced with a sinking hole of guilt in the pit of his stomach.
Before you can join him at the console, the same wooshing sound appears again, this time, directly behind you. As if someone threw a book behind your ear. Instantly turning around, you discover the empty submarine behind you.
“What the fuck was that?!” You frantically ask.
“What was what? God, Y/N you can’t lose your head too quickly! We’re supposed to help each other, not sabotage one another.” Simon argues.
Turning towards you from his place in the chair, his fists are clenched so hard you swear his knuckles turn white.
“I– I’m not. But I am telling you there is something outside this ship. Something that probably wasn’t logged!” You try and rebut.
“Look, we’re both going in blind, okay? So why don’t we just finish the job we were assigned too and then we’ll never have to see each other again. Great? Good.” Simon answers for you.
After a brief moment of silence, you turn away to blink back a few rising tears.
How could he treat you like this after all the years you’ve known the man?
‘I guess prison really does leave a mark on someone.’ You think to yourself.
“Fuck this, we got the sample. We need to go back up.” He scowls.
Ascending the submarine upwards, the speaker-radio hums and crackles back to life. In between the bouts of static and the flickering light, the Commander’s voice radiates in your ears.
“Convict, why are you going away from the coordinates? I’m having a hard time understanding you.” She asks.
“The skeleton is GONE. We can’t find it, even after double checking the numbers.” Simon replies, remembering your existence.
“Stand by.” She answers before leaving the com.
Glancing your way, his annoyed eyes briefly meet your saddened ones. Feeling the hole grow bigger, Simon opens his mouth to say something, but is cut off by the Commander returning.
“How can it be gone?” She asks in disbelief.
“I don’t know. I’m at the coordinates and there’s nothing but a big hill. Maybe it got buried.” Simon replies.
Adjusting the submarine further up the hill, the light for extraction grows brighter in Simon’s mind, knowing that this nightmare will all be over soon.
Leaning against your small place in the wall, you can hear Simon apologize for radiating the crew on the topside, knowing that was a stupid move. Trying your best not to think about it, you just focus on the first thing you’ll do when you get out of this pressurized torture device.
But your thoughts are drowned out by the only two voices having a heated debate in front of you.
“At least they’re not diluting themselves with some big future for humanity if we all just believe hard enough. It’s game over and you know it.” Simon projects, feeling his hatred for Eden in the back of your throat.
“Is that why you destroyed Filament Station?” The Commander blatantly asks.
“That wasn’t …supposed to happen, okay? It was out of my control.” Simon rebuttals, with his voice growing weak.
Shock fills your face with its unbridled rage slowly creeping its way from your toes to the ends of your fingers. The day Filament Station was destroyed, your family received an anonymous tip, ensuring that only you would survive. Your friends, family, your entire life vanished in a single afternoon and it was all Simon’s fault.
Giving you all of his attention, Simon tries his best to calm you down, but before you can retaliate, the submarine is rattled by a sudden and loud force. Knocking both you and Simon to the floor, the entire sub goes dark once the rattling and shaking stops. Leaving you in the sombre space, the ringing subsides in your ears as you lean against the broken chair.
“I’m just gonna… check the power.” He whispers to you.
Descending into the crawl space underneath the open hatch, Simon navigates through the tight corridor. Discovering the power box, the handle refuses to cooperate.
“Come on you piece of shit. Work with me.” Simon mumbles to himself.
Cranking the handle upwards a couple of times, the submarine’s engine restarts with a beautiful hum. The navigational lights faintly glow back to life, emitting a soft green hue on your sweaty skin. Slowly rising to your feet, the previous numbers remain the same behind the thin sheets of glass.
Silently sighing to yourself, the knots of anxiety uncurl in your chest. These emotions don’t last however, once the sight of Simon crosses the threshold back into the submarine.
Walking to him, you slowly offer Simon your hand. Closing his hand around your palm, you carefully pull him upwards. Standing before you, Simon’s breath slows to a perfect harmony.
“You okay?” He questions.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” You nod, avoiding his gaze.
Fidgeting to let go, Simon pulls your hand closer to his, not wanting to let go.
“Don’t go, not yet.” Simon murmurs in the space between you.
“Where else would I go? And why should I listen to you?” You sneer through your angry eyes.
“Y/N, please… Let me explain. Allow me to have that at least.” Simon starts.
Shifting your gaze, you can’t help but give him the benefit of the doubt, knowing how much this man means to you. Cupping your shoulders in the palms of his hands, Simon silently hesitates. Watching your facial expressions soften, a satisfying breath leaves his lips.
“I know the stories about me are twisted beyond all belief. I never destroyed Filament Station, I was there to get people out. I had to save my brothers, but then the C.O.I. and Eden, had to fuck everything up. When I was in that cell, I swore that I wouldn't let anything get under my skin again. And one of the only things that kept me going was you. The thoughts of our years as teenagers, our once beautiful friendship never left my mind, then I became ‘the Butcher.’ Hell, I still remember the time you snuck into the prison just to give that stupid piece of taffy. Even when you were assigned to do electrical work, I fought hard to see you. I never thought I would take your life away, I swear. And if I could do it all over again, I wish for that everyday.” Simon finally explains to you.
Soaking in his declaration, the brief memories of growing up together come back in your mind. You and Simon were inseparable at one point in time, practically joined at the hip. But that doesn’t change anything for his actions.
Slapping him across the face, you push and shove him against the camera screen. Trying every way possible to get a swing in, he does his best to block the hits.
“You asshole! You ruined my life! I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you!!” You scream.
Hoping that your insults are damaging, Simon grips your hands away from his body. Holding you in a captive position, the look of your shared sadness, grief, yet something else lingers on your tired faces.
“Y/N…” he whispers in the space before you.
Your lips part, just as you dare to say his name. Instead you both lean closer.
“Simon, I…” you start, but can’t finish.
Pulling him towards you, your lips latch onto one another. Begging for each other’s own air. Softly grasping a handful of your sweater, Simon tugs the thin wool fabric over your head before discarding it away. Taking hold of you by the hips, he lifts you upwards onto the complex navigation system.
An unexpected gasp escapes from your mouth as Simon brushes the tip of your nose with his own.
“Tell me what you need.” He whispers into your mouth.
“I need …you.” You reply in between kisses.
Removing the remnants of your clothing, you pull Simon’s sweater over his head. The both of you become transfixed by your shared nudity, the sight of his muscular torso causes air to get stuck in your throat.
Comfortably shifting on against the navigation system, Simon stands in between your legs just as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Swallowing your needy whimpers whole, the smooth leather of the holster feels cool against your fingertips. Pushing his tongue past your pink lips, a sharp moan rises from the back of your throat.
Leaning forward, Simon slowly allows you to lay down in front of him. Unbuttoning the top of his pants, he gently opens your closed core, revealing your weeping pussy.
“Jesus Christ.” Simon utters.
Unzipping his well worn trousers just enough, the tip of his erect cock glistens with precum.
“See what you do to me, Y/N? You drive me crazy.” He admits.
Ascending your naked body with feverish kisses, Simon aligns himself with your folds, pressing his hardness into your throbbing nerves. Gasping at the jolt, his eyebrows knot together at the state of your quick pause. Releasing his lips from your neck, you offer him a reassuring nod, letting him know you’re okay.
“Keep going. I need you Simon.” You mumble.
Smirking at your unending need for him, Simon carefully cups the back of your knees, pulling your legs around his waist. Reaching in between your thighs, his fingers delicately dance around your burning clit making you lose yourself in his caress.
Gasping and whimpering at his own skillful touch, your eyes flutter together as Simon sinks into your bundle of nerves, groaning at how wonderful you already feel. Leaning over your shaking form, Simon grips the top of the navigation system before thrusting his manhood past your slick entrance.
Moaning at this newfound feeling, your cool fingers dig into Simon’s muscular shoulders, and grab at his hot tan skin. Taking his time slowly fucking you, your walls soak him in like a sponge. Each new sound that leaves your mouth becomes music to Simon’s ears, proving that all his years in a cell were definitely worth something. The longing thoughts of getting to touch you before anyone else has finally paid off, no matter if he only thought of you the last time he had sex.
“You’re mine, Y/N. All mine.” Simon paints across your sweaty skin.
Euphoria fills your lungs whilst his thrusts become more even and controlled and Simon clasps the back of your neck. Feeling the arch of his stretch, a tingling sensation rises in the pit of your stomach, making tears rise in the waterline of your eyes.
“Fuck, Simon! I can’t…” You begin, gripping his bicep.
“I know, sweetheart. I want to feel you, let go.” He advises, kissing your tears away.
Your legs shake around his broad waist as your walls close, making you perfectly cum around his cock. Moaning at the sensation, Simon accepts your arch with ease and locks you into a deep eye contact as he cums after you, filling you up. Making you warm, his hand gently cups your jaw, not breaking your gaze on him.
Effortlessly riding out the rest of your orgasm, the soft patter of his balls snacking into your ass slowly subsides. Carefully collapsing on top of you, your fast heartbeat returns to a normal rhythm.
“I love you.” Simon whispers in the dim light.
Seeing his dark brown eyes fill with light for the first time in a long while, you fight off tears as you clasp his face, and kiss him with all the love in the world.
“I love you too.” You reply.
Pulling in for a strong embrace, Simon buries his head in your neck just as his heart grows warm.
did you know andrie and luke make japor snippets for each other? when they return to tatooine about a month after the battle of endor, luke procures japor wood and carves a piece in secret. he presents it to andrie the day they learn she’s pregnant ;3; after she miscarries she avoids wearing the snippet for a while bc of the memories attached to it, but gradually she’ll at least bring it out for special occasions. she intends to carve one for luke as well, but as the temple on ossus flourishes and her responsibilities increase, the idea falls by the wayside. it isn’t until decades later, after the resistance victory against the first order (and she and luke have reunited) that andrie considers it again. she manages to find a suitable piece of wood via traders and, like luke, keeps her work a secret until it’s given to its owner. neither snippet is especially pretty or intricate, but they were carved devotedly and with love—a love that weathered unimaginable pain and endures until luke’s death…and beyond. upon his joining the force, andrie takes back his snippet and keeps it packed away; when she senses her time is nearing, she gives both snippets to rey and tells her she can do what she wishes with them. i’ll expand on that in my next post
A/N: Thank you to @farmboy1 for being a GOD with their EU post. And for @sonofthedunes for enlightening me about this…
Relinquishing your time on the Rebellion’s front line, the Senatorial victory brings in a breath of fresh air for the people around you who you’ve come to call friends; family. Seated in one of the tall towers in the beautiful city-scape planet of Coruscant, the cool early morning breeze makes its way into your room. Signaling the dawn of a brand new day, the faint scent of various fruits and sandalwood wafts in from …somewhere. You just can’t tell from where.
A soft knock at your door summons you from your daydreams as Leia’s faithful handmaid, Winter crosses the threshold.
“Good morning, Y/N. Did I wake you?” She politely whispers.
“No, not at all.” You reply with a yawn.
Closing your bedroom door, Winter gazes upon your sleepy form with a soft smile.
“How did you sleep?” She asks, moving to the foot of your bed.
“Honestly? I can’t even tell you the last time I had a decent night's sleep. What is this bedding made out of?” You stretch in pure bliss.
Feeling your joints crack, a large exhale leaves your lungs open for the sharp scent of citrus. Sitting up against the headboard, Winter treks to the small wooden wardrobe before showing you a deep green dress with a halter top.
“It’s beautiful.” You admire, standing from your comfortable domain.
“Leia had it commissioned for you. She wanted you to enjoy yourself, even if it’s just for one day.” Winter answers, pulling down a pair of heels.
Joining her at an adjacent table and mirror, Winter gently brushes the knots out of your hair and prepares you for the day.
“Have you heard anything from Luke lately?” You ponder, straightening your spine.
“I did! He requested to see you, I believe he mentioned something about needing your help with repairs on the droids.” Winter explains in between tying your hair up with a few braids.
Smiling at the enthusiasm in her voice, a tiny chuckle leaves your now lightly pink tinted lips.
****
Quietly venturing into Luke’s bedroom, the quaint space is bright and inviting. Gently offering him your hand, he clasps it firmly, still recovering from an unexpected nightmare. Beneath the plush and soft bedding, his naked form is glistening with beads of sweat. Barely damp strands bounce along his forehead for safety, but refuse to stick.
“Are you alright?” You ask, pressing a damp cloth along his hot skin.
“Better, now that you’re here.” Luke hums.
Melting into your touch, Luke beams up at your presence. Shuffling beneath the comforter and the silk sheets, he stretches his arms above his head. Motioning to join his side, Luke hesitantly wraps himself up in the plush blankets, hoping you won’t look too closely at his back.
“You sure you’re okay?” You ask.
Brushing his dirty blonde bangs away from his face, Luke’s light blue eyes gaze into your own, allowing him to calm down.
“Of course. I wouldn’t lie to you about anything. Especially when it comes to who we are.” Luke replies.
Drawing circles around the open skin of your wrist, you watch his chest rise and fall with every breath. Unfortunately the strong scent of citrus and the various blartree blossoms in a different array of vases no longer matter.
Carefully reaching for Luke’s right shoulder, your fingers feel scorching against his freshly cooled skin.
“Luke, what is…?” You begin, but your words are caught in the back of your throat.
Turning his back to you, tears instantly fill up in your eyes, and the intense sight of blue and purple lightning scars shocks you to the very core.
“How did this happen?” You shake, frantically studying every inch of his strong back.
Shifting to your knees, Luke returns to lay back down on his back, not wanting you to linger on his injuries any longer. Taking your trembling hands in his own, Luke calmly rubs your knuckles in a soothing pattern.
“A few months after I met you, I received these injuries …from the Emperor himself. I went to save my Father and all is well. I’m here, with you, with Leia, Han, the Rebellion. I’m alive, thanks to our collective strong will.” Luke describes, reaching to stroke a tear away from your cheek.
Nodding into his hand, Luke smiles in hopes to reassure you.
“Just, don’t scare me like that.” You whisper before accepting his lingering embrace as the morning fades into the afternoon.
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25-year-old Mark Hamill in the early morning of March 22, 1976, just before the first scenes of Star Wars were shot in Tunisia—half-awake, wearing bleached Levi 501s, and unaware he’s about to step into cinematic history.
