#nitearmor fic

There it is again: Bo-Katan hugging her. The Armorer is hit with the full blow of the guilt of wanting more of it, wanting it tighter, wanting it to last longer, wanting so much of what she should not want from her friend - should not want from anyone now that she is the Armorer: faceless, nameless, devoted to her craft only.

“You got this”, Bo-Katan says again when she pulls away too soon. And that is when the Armorer remembers one more Jedi-Senator wedding arrangement she has forgotten to think about.

“Dank farrik, the blasters! I don’t have time to think of any…”

“Don’t kids usually like to help out with that sort of stuff? Why don’t you ask the new foundling?”

To be more exact, the Artist did not just walk into the room. Rather, she streamed in like endless rays of light, filling the entire gloomy space with her presence, the metallic clink of her multitude of earrings and necklaces, the waves of her hair, the dark red leather of her skirt, the fur of her bolero, and the fishnet of her stockings disappearing in high-heeled boots.

Right, it was just like Bo-Katan had thought: the Artist looked weird, just like all her customers. There was only one thing Bo-Katan had not prepared herself for: the Artist looked weird in a hot way.

--------- OR: Nitearmor Florist - Tattoo Artist AU!

--------- Pairing: The Armorer x Bo-Katan Kryze Rating: T Words: 3k