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bsxcrxts · 10 months

Text

comfort

Luke Skywalker x fem!reader

MINORS DNI. AGE IN BIO TO INTERACT WITH MY WORKS.

word count: 5.4k longest oneshot I've ever written whoops

Contains: Luke being sad and hurt, mentions of blood and bruising (not in detail), reunion between reader and Luke post-Dagobah training and Cloud City duel, angst just due to the whole situation in general, a whole lot of tension, blowjobs, inappropriate use of the force, unprotected sex (don't do this irl unless you want a baby idk what to say), somewhat subby/needy Luke, he's pathetic. a wet cat of a man in this and I love him

A/N : This is self-indulgent, soft, nasty, and probably poorly researched. Reader's not a nurse or a doctor, just a concerned gal with a crush, and Star Wars medicine is made up anyway. I have no idea why she's on the Falcon at this point but fuck it, we ball!

You find yourself trailing after Luke in an effort to get him to rest; whatever the hell he just went through in Cloud City initially had him almost feverish, tossing around on the cot in your little makeshift medbay and muttering about things you didn't understand, things about Ben and lies and Vader. But when he sensed the latter, he shot out of bed and right back into the cockpit of the Falcon, open wounds be damned, apparently.

He just doesn't quit, you thought to yourself, momentarily enamored with his strength and somewhat miffed he's left, but then your stomach sank as you also realize you don't even know how bad the rest of his injuries even are.

You and Leia had managed to fit him with the stabilizer on his right arm before she had to excuse herself to help navigate the Falcon away from the Imperial Fleet, and you didn't get much further on assessing Luke before he snapped out of whatever fervor he'd been in and followed her. You didn't run after him, too busy trying to scour the pitiful excuse of a medkit on the Falcon for more supplies and knowing it would be a lost cause anyway– he can be incredibly headstrong when it comes to helping his friends. But you've made the jump to hyperspace now, you've felt the engines shift. It should be safe, and you're pretty sure he should really, really rest.

Creeping into the cockpit of the Falcon, you see Luke slumped in one of the second-row seats, clutching a blanket around himself. He's not speaking in hushed tones to himself anymore, but in the blue light of hyperspace, his eyes look so tired. You lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.

It's not the first time you've touched him in months, but it feels like it is– you had cradled him in your arms for a moment when Leia ushered him into the room for the first time a half an hour ago, but Luke wasn't focused then, and he definitely wasn't well enough to hold conversation with you. And the last time you saw him before today was many moons ago, before he left to become a Jedi.

Luke's face snaps up to yours. Your hand is warm and welcoming on his arm, and he wants more than anything to lean into your touch, but he still feels uneasy, like he's unsure if that would be okay with you, for some reason. The recent revelations about his parentage have left him uncomfortable with himself, even if you don't know yet. If you'll ever know.

Meanwhile, your eyes rake over his features. His lip is split and he has a gash and an impact mark across his cheekbone just under his left eye. The reunion between the two of you is soured by defeat and injury, but despite yourself, when he gazes up at you, part of you insists he looks good. Really good. You linger too long on the cut on his mouth before you force yourself to snap out of it.

"Hey," you whisper. For some reason, you're embarrassed. You haven't spoken to him in a long time.

Luke has the audacity to crack a tiny smile up at you from where he's sitting, just for a moment. He breathes out your name and leans his head against your side where you're standing next to him.

"I have a headache," he says, more like he's thinking out loud than anything. It's an excuse he's made for himself to lay against you even for the briefest time, but it's also true. His head pounds.

Luke pulls away and lifts his face back up to look at you again. There's an emotion that you've never seen before behind his eyes. "Sorry," he says quietly, like it's an afterthought. Only he seems to know why he's apologizing.

"You should go lay down again. I-I can help you with the rest of your injuries and you can rest," you say.

"You’re right," Luke sighs, and stands up shakily. He doesn't stumble, but you put a steadying hand on his back anyway, just to remind him that you're there.

The short walk back to his cot is silent. It's awkward. You know you shouldn't ask about what happened, that Luke will tell you when he's ready, but you don't know what else to say, so you say nothing.

When you do start speaking, your words just sort of tumble out. You're talking to fill the space. Luke has never been this quiet before.

"Here," you gesture, "sit on the edge of the bed. I know I said you could lay down, but I'm worried you're concussed, so maybe you shouldn't fall asleep. You said you have a headache. Do you think you have a concussion?" you ask, as if he'd know.

For his part, Luke just shakes his head at you. "I'll be alright," he insists. He doesn't know if he believes it, but he can't think of anything else to tell you to make you feel better.

Right, you think. Stubborn. Luke occasionally has a sense of over-confidence about himself, you've seen it when he talks about piloting or whatnot, and he's never been wrong about his limits, just cocky, but this time it seems almost put-on, like a show. You let it slide.

"I know," you say, and softly smile at him. When he halfheartedly returns your smile, it pulls on the cut on his lip, and you remember why you're here.

You retrieve a wet cloth and start dabbing at the sticky, tacky blood decorating his face. You take his chin in your other hand, and Luke closes his eyes while you wipe at the near-dried blood. His eyebrows knit when you get too close to a bruise, but he doesn't outwardly complain, and you move on swiftly.

Your heart is beating far too quickly given Luke's condition. He is seriously injured, and clearly went through something not only physically horrible but also mentally taxing back in Cloud City, but he's gorgeous right now.

The way his hair is parted and tousled reminds you of what he's looked like in the past, under much more pleasant circumstances. You don't know what you are to Luke; you have an absolute raging crush on him and he obviously likes you too, but he leaves to go off on his own. A lot. The two of you never talk about it. If you acted on your arousal, it actually wouldn't be the first time you'd have slept with him after he narrowly escaped death, but this feels... different.

Luke breathes out a little sigh as you glide the cloth across his cheekbone. Your stomach ties itself in knots, and you freeze.

He notices that you've paused your ministrations and opens his eyes, looking up at you expectantly. His eyes are the clearest you've seen from him today, and just as blue as always. You panic a bit, hoping he can't perceive your inappropriately-timed desire.

"I need to grab some bacta," you mutter, and remove your hand from his chin.

This time when you return, he keeps his eyes open.

Luke can sense something from you, but he isn't sure what. His relationship with the Force isn't in the best shape, but he knows you've been thinking very hard about something and he's almost afraid to find out what.

“You must be sick of taking care of me," Luke ventures as you carefully apply the bacta gel to a cut on his forehead. "Ever since you got to know me, I just keep getting hurt.”

He says it in that tone he uses when he's making a dry joke that isn't a joke at all.

“Hey, I’ll always help clean you up," you reassure.

"At least both sides of my face will be even now," he continues, referring to the scarring on his left side from the Wampa attack earlier that year.

"You look– you look good," you stutter out, finding yourself shy again. Luke doesn't even take the compliment before he keeps going.

“You’re not put-off?”

“By what?”

It's quiet. Luke doesn't answer. You realize he's talking about the fact he lost his hand in the battle. You sink down to sit next to him, forgotten bacta pack dropped to the floor.

"Luke, no, I don't think–"

“He said some things about me…" Luke trails off, and you know the unnamed he in that sentence means Vader. "I’m worried I’ll turn out like him. That I’ll fall to the dark side. But I can’t stand by and do nothing, I can’t,” he insists, passionate.

“You’re not like him."

Luke looks down at his feet, unconvinced.

You lean over and kiss his cheek, meaning to comfort him, watching a blush spread over his features.

"You're not him, okay?" you reaffirm, face feeling heated. Your hands slide over his arm and down his back in a reassuring motion. You intended to pull away to get more bacta, but Luke leans into you.

"Can I–?" he asks softly. You nod, and he catches your mouth in another kiss.

He's overeager, teeth clacking against yours as he licks into your mouth and tries to get as close to you as bodily possible. In contrast, you try to stay gentle, refusing to even playfully nip at him like you otherwise might. The gash on his upper lip splits open anyway, sending him a shock of pain that should stop his motions, but he just groans into your mouth and keeps kissing you.

"You're bleeding!" you exclaim as taste blood and break away from him.

"S'okay," Luke whines, protesting your concern. It's evident how much he doesn't want to stop; he follows you as you pull away, tilting forward. You ignore the rush of arousal flooding your system at his shameless display and grab a bit of gauze and press it to the scrape.

"Look, it's fine. See?" Luke asserts when there's hardly even a few drops of his blood on the cloth as you remove it. Obviously vying to kiss you again.

It's hard to resist him and his pleading puppy-like eyes. You press a quick peck to his forehead.

"Hold still," you say, "I need to put a bit of bacta on that so it heals." It's the justification you're using, because if he keeps kissing you, you're going to lose control and the little scrape will never heal. Luke decides to give in to you as the voice of reason.

"There," you state when you've finished with his face. "Now..." you trail off, eyeing the gashes through the fabric of his fatigues and once again feeling bizarrely nervous, "You should. You should take your shirt off next."

"Right," he sighs, feeling unsure. He reaches up with his left hand and starts undoing the fastens on his shirt.

"I could help you?" you offer softly.

"Sure," he nods.

You gently help him out of his shirt, careful of the cut in his upper left arm and scrape across his elbow that tore through even the fabric of the shirt. The shirt is falling apart, burned in places and ripped in others, and you sort of drop the fabric off to the side, unsure if it's salvageable.

When you look back up, the breath feels like it's been punched out of you.

Luke was always lean, a scrappy sort of muscular but this is new. You remind yourself you haven't seen him in months and that he's been off doing stars-know-what during his Jedi training. Behind the bruises and scrapes, he's built a bit of muscle, more defined than last time. Your eyes dart across his body; his arms alone have you biting your lip, feeling more butterflies in your stomach than ever before.

Luke catches you looking at him, catches you eyeing him up and down like you'd like to devour him, and he just gazes back at you. The blush on his cheeks from earlier never went away.

You convince yourself to slow down and wipe the dried blood off his arms and torso. There's no way to avoid how close the two of you are; you've practically wormed your way into standing between his legs as you dab bacta on the cuts and bruises that litter his midsection. Shamefully, you think about how good he smells, sweat be damned.

Luke audibly groans when you slide your hand across his shoulders in preparation to hold his arm up while you apply the medical salve. Your fingers dig slightly in to his sore musculature and he can't hold back.

"Sorry," you choke out, "want me to stop?"

"Mm-mm. Feels good, actually."

You feel another crack in your resolve form as you slather bacta along his cuts and bruises.

Luke is far enough gone himself, and you try not to notice. His breathing rate increased the second you started touching him, and he knows a hard-on would be ill-timed right now, but he kind of doesn't care that he can feel a tent beginning to form in his pants. It's a welcome distraction from the absolute shit day he's had, and he really, really missed you. The feeling of your hands on his body is unparalleled, so welcome and warm.

The logical choice of waiting even a day in order to prevent his wounds from re-opening is losing appeal for him.

You, however, continue to grasp onto logic. Not meeting his eyes as you finish applying the bacta, you step away from him and turn to fiddle with the medkit.

“Okay, I think it's alright for you to lay down now. I’ll go so you can rest," you say. You don't want to leave him, but it's the responsible thing. You'll go lay in your own bunk and mind your own business. He's hurt, he needs repose, he–

“Don’t go.”

Not turning around, you go to answer. “Luke, you need—"

“I need you,” Luke insists, desperately. He reaches out and grabs your wrist lightly, like he moved without thinking.

It's very calculated, however, when you turn around and he raises your hand to his cheek and plants a kiss on the palm of your hand.

"Please?" he breathes, eyes wide, looking up at you and begging. His hand hasn't left yours where it rests on the side of his face.

“Oh, baby,” you sigh adoringly, your heartbeat in your throat and your determination to let him alone long gone as you return to stand in between his spread legs. You'd normally settle down on his thighs and grind against him, where you know Luke likes you best, but right now you're sure to be gentle as you can. You're a bit worried about whatever unknown bruising could be beneath the pants he didn't even get off before he couldn't resist you anymore.

“Kriff, it’s been so long. Missed you,” Luke mutters against your mouth between kisses.

"Yeah?" you ask, losing the brain capacity to answer coherently as Luke buries his face in the crook of your shoulder and sucks a kiss into the juncture of your skin.

Any gentle peck you try to give Luke turns dirty as he doubles down in passion every time, almost refusing to let any kiss end until the two of you are gasping for air. He's desperate to touch you, and yes, your hands are cradling his face and he loves it, but you're still somewhat leaning away from him, standing over him as he sits in front of you. He wants.

It's accidental, what happens next. You feel a sudden pressure against your lower back that nudges at you until you tip forward, catching yourself just inches before you would have fallen against Luke, your knee coming to rest in between the junction of his legs. In your new position, he immediately grinds his hard cock on your thigh, the drag of his sizeable length suddenly against you. It's accidental, but it's what he needs.

You break the kiss and gasp. The Falcon hasn't shifted out of hyperspace and you're not off-balance.

"Baby?" you inquire, the question unspoken. Did you just use the Force to move me? Many of Luke's abilities are new. If it was him, it was a recent development, at least in your experience.

"'m sorry," Luke whines, "I didn't mean to– I don't know what happened," but even as he says it, he's practically fucking himself against you, the strain of his bulge in his khaki pants borderline painful.

You're too turned on to even admonish him. You wouldn't if you could. You liked it, liked how his growing desire for you was overwhelming him to the point of losing control.

"Need me that bad?" you tease.

You hardly expect a response, but Luke keens and thrusts hard against your leg, his cock aching and his voice catching on a moan. "Ah-h!! Angel, I told you I do," he mewls. The flush on his face is as red as you've ever seen him.

“Let me take care of you,” you coo as you sink down onto the floor. Unable to resist, you shove your nose against Luke's clothed cock, inhaling his scent and mouthing at him over his disgusting khakis.

"Oh that's– you don't have to–" Luke starts, squirming.

"Want to," you answer, kissing and licking at his bulge until the fabric covering him is damp, from his dripping cock or from your mouth, you aren't sure. His dick throbs, straining painfully against his clothing. "Wanna see your pretty cock even more though," you continue.

You don't have to tell him twice. He scrambles to unzip his pants and you help him, pulling his flushed cock from the confines of his underwear. It bobs against his stomach and smears pre-cum across his torso, across his newly-defined abs. Unable to help yourself, you lean up and lick a bit of the pre-spend off of him, which only makes his erection kick and leak more.

You place an open-mouthed kiss to his cock as you move lower, and then take him into your mouth.

"F-fuck! Your mouth, oh, you ffeel s' ohh," Luke exclaims, incoherent when you first take him into your throat, fisting the rest of his cock in your hand as you bob up and down on him. He almost thrashes, hips jerking forward and hand coming to rest in your hair, not pulling just there, a guiding weight that has you moving at an even pace, sucking at the head of his cock and popping off of him every once in a while to kiss the underside or tip of his member and make him writhe underneath you. Your cunt clenches around nothing when he moans or squirms for you.

As you slide your mouth off his cock, a string of saliva still connecting you to his tip, his body jerks. He fucks his cock against your lips and his hips stutter against your mouth, like he can't take one second without you.

"Stars, baby, like my mouth that much?"

"I like all of you that much."

His declaration is unbearably hot, and you reward him by deepthroating him as far as you can take him, throat constricting around him and your eyes watering.

Luke inhales sharply, surprised by your sudden action.

“S-stop.”

“Is something wrong?” you ask, pulling off of him, immediately conscious of his delicate state and concerned he's started bleeding or something like that.

“'m close. Almost came,” Luke admits shyly, looking off to the side and not meeting your eyes. He still isn't quite comfortable with how fast his body finishes with you, even though you've told him several times how much his eagerness and sensitivity turned you on.

“That's the point, right?” you affirm lightly, running a hand up his thigh. "You wanna cum in my mouth?"

Luke looks at you, blushing fiercely. “I don't wanna cum yet at all," he whines, softly guiding you up from your kneeling position on the floor. He kisses you, absolutely claiming your mouth before he nuzzles his face into your neck, "I don't want this to be over," he confesses, and he sounds both desperate and a bit sad.

"Doesn't have to be," you say, settling into a somewhat more dominant role, but keeping your tone is still gentle. He's liked it in the past when you take the lead, so you try it out. "Tell me what you want."

The shift in your attitude has Luke suddenly shameless, pressing himself bodily against you until the two of you can't honestly get any physically closer.

"I wanna be inside you. I-inside your pussy,” he whines.

His words send shockwaves up your spine and you bite your lip, clenching around nothing.

"A-and," he chokes out, rutting against your thigh like he's an animal, "I want you to make me wait."

You won't make him clarify the last part. You're plenty aware that's his way of asking you to edge him, to control his orgasm so he doesn't finish 'too soon', a game you've played before with him, and he's already shy about it. It makes sense right now, especially since you're basically letting him use you like a distraction from the absolute shit day he's had, that he doesn't want this to end.

"Ask me nicely," you urge.

"Please can I fuck your pussy?" Luke gasps.

"Fuck yes, oh my god," you answer, kissing him and shoving your pants and undergarments off and straddling his lap. "Need your fingers first though. C'mere," you grab at his hand and pull his digits along your slit.

Luke almost wants to groan in protest, feeling suddenly very impatient, but he practically chokes as he runs his fingers through your wetness. His eyes roll back in his head when he slips a finger inside of you, shocked at your state of arousal, and you loosely wrap your hand around his dick. He starts grinding against your hand immediately and you know you're going to have to slow him down eventually if he wants to last.

"Shit, u-um," he throws his head back to look up at you. "You're soaked. Just f-from having your mouth on me?" he ventures, feeling like he needs reassurance in this moment for some reason.

“Mm! Been– been getting like this since you started making those cute noises while I was patching you up.”

"Yeah?" Luke is soaking the praise up, working his fingers in and out of you and across your clit with as much focus as he can. He's inexperienced with his left hand, but you'd never guess. Your cunt is dripping around him down to his wrist.

"You make such perfect sounds, baby," you promise him. "Ah-h!" you exclaim when he brushes up against that spot inside you, "fuck, baby, keep going."

Luke nods against you. "Keep talking? Please?" he asks, so sweetly.

"I never get used to how big you are. You have such a pretty cock, Luke. Helping me first so I can even think about taking it."

He sinks two digits to the knuckles into you cunt and presses hard on your g-spot.

"Ohh-!! Baby!" you shout, caught off guard. "You're so good– so good, such a good boy f' me."

"C-close," he whines. He's already that far gone, even from this uncoordinated dry-humping half handjob, face a mess, dick literally twitching in your hand from the praise you're directing at him. You take your hand away from his cock since he asked to be denied. He makes no move to stop his motions on you, so you let him finger you open with his hand and play with you for a while longer.

When he's calmed down a bit and you do sink down onto him, your combined juices make a disgustingly lewd wet noise and you both breathe out moans. There's still a stretch; Luke is bigger than most, and you haven't had anyone since he left. You haven't had anyone else since the first time with him, at all.

“I-I was bad," Luke suddenly states as you work to take his length inside your dripping core. Any position takes work to fit his cock in your cunt, but riding him takes the most.

“Oh honey, no, you feel amazing for me,” you reassure, both remembering his insecurity earlier and thinking about how full his cock is making you feel.

“Nno I– don't mean. I mean..." he breathes and pauses, "I thought about you whi-while I was training. I wasn’t supposed to."

"What do you mean?" you ask gently.

"Not 'posed to have attachments. Feelings," Luke gasps, thrusting up once into your soaked cunt before his hips settle into a slow grind. He's toying with the edge of your shirt that you forgot to take off earlier, running his hand tentatively under the seam. He's shy, not meeting your eyes again even though he's literally inside you right now. In a way, you understand that he's confessing something very secret to you and you're reeling a bit.

'Missed you," he says earnestly for the second time this evening when you don't say anything back right away. His gaze finally lands on yours and something is electric in the air. He's practically given you his love confession several times in the last hour but this feels different.

"I don't think that's bad," you say, barely above a whisper. "Not at all. I missed you too," you kiss him again, rolling your hips.

And then, “What’d you think about?” because you can't resist.

Luke's hips go back to a stuttering pace, alternating between grinding up into you and the occasional rogue thrust, like he's holding himself back.

"Uh-uhm," he falters, fighting self-consciousness at sharing his fantasies, but the words start spilling out of his mouth anyway, "The way you smile at me when you're f-flirting. What it feels like to kiss you. A-and I thought about your hands and what they feel like on me. When you hold me, or... or when they're wrapped around- ugh m-my cock."

You gasp, but Luke continues without pause.

"How I wanna fuck you slow in bed in the morning. I'll be good. I-I can make it good f' you. Worth waking up early for," he promises. It's startlingly domestic, but before you can linger on it, he keeps going. "Missed your– haa, ah, your pretty tits, too."

"What about them?"

"How gorgeous they are. How you look when you don't wear a bra. C-can't look away."

"You wanna see?" you ask, surprised he hasn't asked you to take your shirt off earlier.

Luke whines, eyes hooded as he nods. "Please."

You practically throw your shirt off and unclasp your bra in record time.

You shift, pushing your chest towards him where he sits, as a desire to give him everything he's ever wanted burns inside of you. He deserves it. He's supposed to have been solely concentrated on learning to be a Jedi– and he clearly has been training– but on top of it, all he's admitting to focusing on not only just some ancient mystic wisdom but also on you, too. You think you love him.

You run your fingers across the nape of his neck and pull on his golden locks, guiding him towards your tits.

You roll your hips against him, pussy clenching around him as he sucks your nipple into his mouth, rolling the bud over his tongue and moaning with every breath.

"Fuck! D-don't move like that. I-I'll cum. M'gonna cum."

"Want you to," you say, but you stop your motions anyway.

"N-not yet," he chokes out. "You haven't– I want it to be good for you," drooling against your tits.

“Stars, you're so sweet. Look how good you’re being for me right now,” and he is being good. He’s being so good, so considerate, and your pussy involuntarily tightens around him again at the thought.

"O-oh shit, I can't take it, I c-can't fucking take it," Luke voice shakes, and in an impressive show of strength for his current state, he pulls out of you and flips your positions so you're laying on the cot and he rests on his knees between your thighs. He doesn't push back inside you; his cock rests against your clit, and he distracts you by leaning down to kiss you for a moment. It's his way of stalling; you know he needs a moment to hold back from finishing.

Even though it feels nice, the contact is not enough, not when you've had a taste of him inside your walls already, and you let yourself paw needily at him, trying to get him to slip in.

"You're as bad as I am, aren't you?" Luke huffs lightly, amused.

"Yeah," you breathe "I just want you, so bad."

“I– I thought I might've sensed that,” Luke says, almost sounding smug momentarily, happy with your response, "through the Force, but I- I wasn't sure if it was just my own desire," he drops that absolute bombshell on you before he mercifully slips back inside you and sets a rapid pace. Your hands fly above you to brace yourself against the wall of the nook.

"S-shit! Baby! Y-you can hear what I'm thinking?"

Luke groans, dropping his head and trying to formulate a coherent response. "Kind of. It's more like I feel... intentions, if you think really hard about something, I-I can sense–"

Your eyes flutter closed, and the way your cunt tightens around his dick cuts Luke off completely. You're rapidly spiraling towards your own high, his words and his cock wrecking you.

All your energy goes into projecting as much lust as you possibly can at him; you're running through every fantasy you've ever had, every dirty thought about him that's ever crossed your mind in an effort to get him to pick up on your emotions. It works, and Luke has to catch himself with his hand before he collapses on top of you.

"Haah, ahh," he whimpers, "That's- that's- y' feel like that about me?" he asks, his eyes rolling back in his head. He's positively losing control, his hips grinding into yours as he pounds into your pussy.

"Yes," you insist, "god, Luke, you fuck me so good, don't fucking stop."

Luke's cute little whines are coming more frequently, his thrusts more erratic, but he doesn't stop. You know him well enough to know he's not going to be able to hold off much longer, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his thighs nearly shaking with effort. Your own high is rapidly approaching.

"Close?" you ask.

"Y-yeah, been close," Luke answers with a bit of humor. “Please let me make you cum first. I just wanna make you cum first,” he cries out, pussydrunk and unable to think of anything other than his and your impending orgasm.

He sits upright again, pulling you in one swift motion by your hips to meet his, then rubs at your clit, circling you. The last inch of his cock slotting into you and the extra stimulation is the only thing you needed to push you over the edge, grinding down on him and yelling his name.

When you come down seconds later, you're met with Luke's gasping moans and begging. He's lost any self control he was able to display before, falling apart in front of you and inside you.

"Ah-haah, fu-fuck, fuck! Gonna cum, am I allowed– can I cum inside you? Please can I cum in you?" he reaches for your hand and intertwines your fingers in his.

"Oh Luke, give it to me, baby, please!"

He groans, accompanied by a nearly incoherent mumbling of your name as he spills inside you, hand squeezing yours. His cock gives a jolt inside of you and the feeling of being filled by his spend makes you topple over the edge again, overstimulated. There's so much of his cum that you feel it drip down your thigh before he even pulls out and you wonder when the last time he let himself cum was at all. He curses and cries out under his breath when you tighten around him a second time, aftershocks still traveling through his body as he collapses next to you in the tiny alcove of the wall.

"Love you," he confesses in a hushed tone as he settles there against you, his face tucked shyly into your shoulder.

"Love you back. You have me," you answer with a quiet confidence. When he looks at you, you see the tiniest pinpricks of tears in his eyes.

"Hey," you run a hand along his back, "it'll be okay."

"Yeah," Luke nods against you. It will be.

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A/N: I don't know how clear I've made it but when I was writing this I was imagining reader and Luke having a sort of on-again-off-again thing (due to the whole Jedi training and extended amounts of time apart) in the past, and that she'd mayyyybe also "comforted" him after Hoth, mayhaps one day I write a prequel to this fic? idk yall know me and following through so no promises lol

#luke skywalker smut #luke skywalker x reader #becca's bs #not proofread #poorly researched and probably poorly written LMFAO #enjoy. this took me so long for no reason #if there’s inconsistency in so sorry

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madame-fear · 3 months

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*ೃ༄ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 .ೃ࿐

★ amira speaks!: this was requested by my most beloved @juliavilu1, I hope you enjoy this dear and it was what you expected! I found it super fun to write. Thank you for the idea! 💕 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : being the daughter of Lord Bartimos Celtigar, a close ally to Rhaenyra Targaryen, you have grown up next to Lucerys Velaryon; your childhood best friend... And crush. By the time you receive the news of his betrothal to Lady Rhaena, you distance yourself for years, not even being able to attend her funeral after dying during childbirth. But when Lucerys finds you once again in King’s Landing, attending a feast his mother as Queen had invited you to, he decides that he won’t easily let go of you. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 21.3k (this is the longest I have ever written 😳)

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : Friends to lovers, angst to smut ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Lord!Lucerys x Celtigar!Reader

WARNING.ᐟ THIS FIC CONTAINS ; jealousy, slight angst, Rhaena dies during childbirth, slight mentions of blood, neck kissing, praising, reader’s first time, body worshipping, P in V, seated missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, and overall soft smut.

“Do you think we will be able to avoid war, Luke?” you inquired sheepishly, craning your head to stare at him.

The soft sound of the seawaves clashing against the beachshore was the only thing heard amidst the night as well as the faint noise of the cool windy breeze, bringing a soothing comfort. Both Lucerys and you laid on your backs against the sand, quietly admiring the bright stars in the darkness of the night as you spoke to one another. Arrax peacefully slept by your side; his pearly scales glistening under the moonlight.

It wasn’t unusual for you to surreptitiously sneak away from your chambers late at night with your childhood best friend Lucerys Velaryon whenever your family visited his own at Dragonstone, only for him to take you towards Arrax, fly on dragonback around the Dragonstone castle, and lay down on the beach before having to return to your private quarters. Ever since you grew up a bit, that was a common routine for the two of you to follow.

The war was imminent — inevitable. No one wished to provoke it, much less his mother Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, but everyone knew it was there, and the time to prepare for war would eventually come. You dreaded the mere thought of it, but you always sought and found comfort by simply being by Lucerys’ side.

The realm was coldly divided, and his mother Rhaenyra would have to fight hard for what was her birthright. Such times were complicated to deal with, and you knew you would have to be greatly prepared for what was yet to come... But knowing you had a great loving friend to rely on, was all that soothed you.

Or at least, you wished to think of him merely as a great best friend. It was quite obvious what you genuinely felt for him, despite you wouldn’t even admit it for yourself — yet, you were endlessly teased by his and your own family. You — in a flustered manner — always disregarded such teasing remarks when they mentioned how head over heels you seemed for him, but deep down inside, you knew there was some truth to it.

At your question, his head tilted towards your side to stare at you. A soft huff escaped from him, feeling uncertain on what to answer. “Well,” he began, frowning slightly. “I’m not quite sure, my dear.” his nicknames to you had always been endearing, and they never failed to make you timidly grin. “We can only hope so. But I’m afraid, war is always inevitable.”

A frowny smile appeared on your lips. While you wished to believe war could be easily avoided, part of you knew Lucerys was right — war is always inevitable. You knew you had to prepare yourself for the worst, and in like every war, your Houses would have to get good allies. And with alliances, came betrothals — and knowing how most betrothals were — unwanted, unhappy, or both — you dreaded the mere thought of having your parents choose a Husband for you. If you could, you would choose to get betrothed to Lucerys; but you knew that situation was solely hopeless daydreaming.

The young Velaryon Prince knew about your discomfort regarding betrothals, and he always made sure to comfort and soothe your mind out of such thoughts. Though, Lucerys daydreamed as well about having the chance of choosing you as his wife some day. You were the only girl he had ever laid his eyes upon, and desired to have — and he knew he would be able to give you all the love and care you deserved to have in the world.

Unfortunately, as expected, Luke got betrothed to his cousin Rhaena. It wasn’t bad, since he got along her, but she clearly wasn’t you — the one Lucerys only longed to have.

A few moments of silence loomed over you, being only able to hear the way the tides clashed against the beach shore, occasionally hitting against some small shells or rocks. “I don’t want to get betrothed just now, Luke.” you muttered quietly, fixing your gaze on the sky, which despite being dark, the stars scattered across it and the moon brought some calming lights. Lucerys stared at you with his hazel green eyes in a dreamily manner as you spoke. “I wish I had the full liberty of choosing whomever I want to marry, instead of praying in hopes of receiving a sweet, kind husband.” you continued, “If we all had such liberty to choose the person we truly love, everything would be less complicated.”

And he couldn’t agree any more with what you said. But his betrothal was already settled, as much as it pained him. “I know. It would be less dreadful, and it would feel less… Forced.” a soft sigh escaped from his lips, frowning briefly. “And I wish I could break off my own betrothal, but I have no word against it.” there was certain reluctance coming from him in telling you, but sooner or later, you would have to know about it — and he would much rather tell you about his betrothal himself. Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you didn’t waste a single second in turning your head around to stare at him, believing you misheard him. What did he mean with… ‘Break off his own betrothal’?

Propping your body with your elbows in the sand, your staring remained on him. “What? What do you mean?” doing the same thing as you did, he slightly laid on the sand, but used his elbows to prop himself. His rosy lips partly opened as he was about to begin explaining, but you kept talking. “Luke, are you…” the words trailed off for a moment, lingering on your lips before you could say them. It felt bitterly venomous to even acknowledge Lucerys had already been betrothed. It couldn’t be, you wished to deny it. “You are betrothed, already? To whom?”

As you awaited for his response, you could feel your heart loudly thumping against your chest, to the point it was as if it nearly escaped from your chest. Swiftly, his tongue passed over his lower lip, huffing faintly. You didn’t seem very pleased at the news, and neither was he; but it was eventually expected. “I have been betrothed to my cousin Rhaena.” he began. A soft scoff escaped helplessly from you, clenching your jaw discreetly. “I got betrothed to her the day we went to King’s Landing for the first time after years.”

A knot had been formed quite tightly on your throat as you attentively listened to his words. Your chest rose and fell continuously as you managed to hold yourself back from allowing the tears threatening to spill to expose how you felt — seemingly making your emotions worsen with the dreadful passing of the seconds. Your heart dropped abruptly, and it was a burning pain mixed with jealousy. You knew this day would come, and every passing day it was overwhelming to even be reminded of him getting betrothed, and you as well.

“I see.” you managed to mutter, swallowing all your own emotions that seemed to wash over you violently. You didn’t even know how to answer, you felt perplexed at the sudden situation. “Well, it was expected for both of us to eventually betrothe someone. At least, she will be lucky to have you as a husband.” gods, each word that came from your lips was one more painful than the other. Saying them felt like poison, completely bitter.

A frowny smile appeared on his lips, as he gently took your hand in his, squeezing it ligthly and caressing your skin with the tip of his thumb. In a sense, he tried to soothe you by giving you some physical affection like he always did, but it felt more painful than comforting. “I hope you find happiness and are very much loved with her, Lucerys. Because you deserve it, and you deserve to be appreciated every day of your life.”

It seemed as if you nearly spew out those words dreadfully, and you were; but as well, you genuinely wished for him to be filled with an immense amount of love... The same immense amount of love you could give him every single day, until your last breath. Love killed you, thorned you apart brutally — but there were duties to follow. And you couldn’t easily object against them.

Lucerys had known you ever since he had memory, and probably, he knew you better than you could possibly know yourself. The prince noticed the struggle in your features, and the faint voice tone that managed to not break in between words. You felt upset, and it blended along notorious sadness simultaneously. Softly, he exhaled, and leaned closer to you, close enough for you to feel his sweet boyish scent, while he continued to tenderly squeeze your hand in his own.

“I wish the same for you, (y/n). And even a thousand more things, more than you could imagine.” closing your eyes slowly, Lucerys pressed his lips against your skin, smooching your cheek. Gods, if only you could feel his lips against his own, and savour him. “I have never met someone like you. I hope you get betrothed to someone who knows how to cherish and pamper you properly.” he was wishing you nothing more but mere well-being in every sense, as were you with him — why did it have to profoundly hurt the way it did? A shaky sigh escaped from your lips, opening your eyes slowly as he pulled back from the smooch in your cheek.

The look you carried in your eyes made his heart sink. In a way, instead of noticing how you had to hold back the way you truly felt, he preferred for you to talk to him about it, but Lucerys knew that wouldn’t possibly happen. “Thank you, Luke.” was all you replied, a bit shortly. Softly, you stood from the ground, progressively letting go of his hand. And even so, his warmth ghastly lingered on your delicate skin.

His hand returned to lay on the ground, feeling the small grains of sand under his fingertips, watching you stand up with his green eyes. “I think it’s time for me to return back to my chambers, Luke. I do not wish to rest late, or get scolded by our parents.” giving you a single nod, he rapidly stood up along you, briefly shaking off some sand from his clothing. “I understand, and agree. Let’s go, before anyone finds we aren’t in our chambers.” a small, sheepish grin tugged lightly at the corner of his lips, notoriously trying to lift off the tension felt looming in the atmosphere.

You hesitantly returned the grin Lucerys offered for a few seconds, and followed him towards Arrax to fly back closer to the rocky castle — the pearly coloured dragon seemingly feeling the emotions of his rider, and awakening from its sleep. Swiftly, you climbed into the dragon’s back, right behind of Luke, and wrapped your arms tightly around his body as he commanded orders to his dragon in what you understood as High Valyrian. While you clung to his body, your cheek rested firmly against his back. And while you wished to enjoy the last dragon ride before having to return to your chambers and have a deep rest, your mind couldn’t help but keep wandering off to his future marriage to Lady Rhaena.

The warmth emanating from his body was bitterly endearing, having the need to keep clinging to him as if your life depended on it. But you knew, the more you grew up, that you would eventually have to learn to live with the friendship you maintained, and perhaps, keep certain distance to respect the each other’s betrotheds to yourselves. And despite acknowledging that, you weren’t willing to suffer from a heartbreak, or longing for his soothing touch.

Years had passed since you had been told of Lucerys’ betrothal by none other than himself, got married, and was officially named as the Lord of Driftmark.

Throughout all those passing years, you had kept in touch with him. Raven letters were often sent by him, and you replied back. But ever since Luke got betrothed and married his cousin, you had decided on keeping your distance with him as much as it hurt you; and even if you still wrote letters to one another, your feedback was short and slightly cold at times. Your visits to Dragonstone were delayed, and most of the times if your father had to have a meeting with the Black Council, you now rarely travelled along him.

Lucerys noticed your cold distance immediatly. From the moment he observed your reaction to the news of his betrothal to Rhaena, he knew you had done your very best to put on a straight face without your voice breaking, or tears spilling from your watery eyes. Your abscense was more hurtful than anything else. All he had to cling to, was the shared memories of your sweet laughter, whispered gossiping to one another, and how you never failed in comforting one another no matter the inconvenience.

Of course, he had the replies y he received from your letters; but they didn’t seem as light and sweet as they used to be, they seemed gloomier, and distantly cold. Lucerys adored you, even more than he could possibly adore his wife — as bad as it may sound — and himself, and if he had the possibility of changing his betrothal, Luke would have immediately broken it off just to marry you.

Recently, you had been informed by your father that Lucerys’ wife and Lady of Driftmark, Rhaena, along her newborn babe, had passed away during a difficult childbirth. Not only she had lost too much blood trying to give birth to the child, but as well the babe had taken too much time until it finally came out; and it was too late for both of them, immediatly passing away together.

Guilt burdened on you upon hearing the news. Especially, when you reminded yourself about the negative thoughts and bitterness you naturally had about her — yet, you couldn’t never have wished for such tragic event to happen. And the burden weighened even stronger when a traditional Velaryon funeral was held for her, and instead of assisting to it and visiting Lucerys to check on him, all you managed to do was solely write a letter to him offering your deepest, genuine condolences.

You had to admit to yourself, you felt wrongly awful for not having enough strenght of seeing him once again in person, but you were afraid of it being too awkward, or making him feel worse about the situation somehow. You didn’t want to further avoid him, however, you did, despite not wanting to admit it to yourself.

Until, destiny seemed to push you towards him, without you consciously realising. An invitation had arrived to you, from none other than Rhaenyra Targaryen, whom had managed to become the rightful Queen after winning the war against the Greens, and she was throwing a feast in King’s Landing. Much like you had done with Lucerys when his wife and babe died during childbirth, you had merely sent Rhaenyra a raven letter congratulating her for winning what was her birthright — for being the True Queen.

It had been years since you last saw her personally as well. Ever since you were a child, she had treated you as if you were her own sweet daughter, and she was like your best girl friend during your childhood, and teen years. After such victory and at the invitation to her feast, you never doubted in accepting in a heartbeat. And shortly after accepting to attend the feast, you prepared yourself to travel to King’s Landing.

A mix between eagerness and nervousness lingered on you during your travelling to King’s Landing. Of course, it was all because of the mere excitement you had after not seeing her and her family for many years, and you felt keen in properly congratulating her personally, and chatting together. Perhaps even to meet other allies of hers.

As soon as you arrived to the feast in King’s Landing, the atmosphere felt far more calming than you remembered. The environment was beautifully decorated, just properly for the feast. Soft, lovely music played in the background the moment you got into the feast, meeting other Lords and Ladies in there, and of course, you had the chance of seeing Rhaenyra once again after such a long time, greeting her cheerfully and even getting to chat a bit with her to catch up on how your lives had been.

As the time passed by, you decided to go chat with some other Lords and Ladies. And to have some fun with yourself, you kindly accepted the hand of a Lord that had offered himself to dance with you, amongst other people dancing. You had long forgotten about you own worries, giggles continuously spurred from your lips as you danced with another Lord, talking together about things that didn’t matter much. Gracefully, your dress spun along your gentle movements, and the jewellery you wore jiggled.

From afar, the young Lord of Driftmark, Lucerys, stared at you with both his arms behind his back. His green eyes carefully observed your every delicate movement, helplessly feeling a tinge of jealousy overwhelm him slowly and dreadfully at the sight of you laughing along the other Lord. Gods, you seemed even more precious than he remembered. More mature, and with such beauteous features that made his eyes remain fixed on you. It surely couldn’t be a coincidence, for you to be there, Lucerys had to approach you, and chat with you after many years of exchanging brief raven letters.

With gentle footsteps, Lucerys walked towards you. Your laughter was as endearingly sweet as the last time he had heard it during your shared youth, nearly intoxicating. Carrying a gentle grin, he cleared his throat as he stood next to you, and the other Lord. Both of you turned your heads around to stare at the person clearing his throat, and when you spotted Luke, your breath stopped for a moment. Your eyes went slightly wide, noticing with surprise how tall Lucerys had grown in comparison to when you were younger, nearly towering you, and how matured he looked. Your breath hitched as you fought back a timid grin, feeling your heartbeat thump rapidly against your chest. The way he stared at you with his green eyes… Seven Hells, you could melt right there in the spot.

“My Lord, my Lady Celtigar.” Lucerys greeted, and you gave him a single bow down with your head. As his gaze moved from staring at the Lord briefly, he then stared at you; his eyes lingering on your features for a few long seconds. “I hope you don’t mind, if I steal the Lady Celtigar’s hand from you?” a faint rosy hue crept on your cheeks, as the other Lord immediatly agreed with a smile, giving Luke a final bow with his head before bidding goodbye, and leaving the two of you alone — which, that’s just how Lucerys wanted to have you. All alone for himself.

As Lucerys offered his hand to you, you took it right there, walking with gentle footsteps as to dance together, just like you were doing with the previous Lord. “My Lord Velaryon,” you greeted playfully with a shy grin. “I’m pleased to see you once again.” the atmosphere was far from tense, as you would’ve imagined. You did feel slightly timid around him, but merely because he looked intimidatingly precious, and fully matured like a proper Lord — far from the shy, insecure young Prince he used to be.

Placing your other hand on his arm, you gently danced around together amidst other dancing Lords and Ladies, continuing to hear the gentle music in the background. “I could say the same, my Lady. You’ve grown to be even more beautiful than you already were.” immediatly, you scoffed at him, trying to dart your stare elsewhere as to hide the notorious blush growing across your cheeks. “Oh, shut up, Lucerys. If you think that about me, what is there left for me to say about you?” But Lucerys noticed your fluster right away, and along your teasing retort, it all served to fulfill his pride.

As he gentle held you, spinning around together softly while dancing, silence briefly loomed between the two of you. It wasn’t a bad silence, but the more the seconds kept passing, the more it left place for your own thoughts to occupy your mind. And the burdening guilt had returned to you. The guilt of knowing his wife and babe had died during childbirth, and not having been there for Luke when he surely needed it the most. Your tongue swiftly passed over your lower lip, faintly clearing your throat.

“I-I’m terribly sorry for what happened to Lady Rhaena and the babe, Luke.” you muttered shyly. The young Lord looked down at you, attentively listening. “I also apologise for not having been there for you. I should have.” gently, his thumb passed over the hand that held his own, smiling down at you. “Don’t apologise. You really don’t have to, I understand.” some relief washed over you at his words. “I did receive the letter you sent me, and that was enough for me. I don’t want you to apologise for anything.”

Helplessly, your grin widened at hearing how Lucerys softly comforted you. The warmth of his thumb running across the skin of your hand felt just like the last time he had touched you like that. It felt as if your skin screamed to be touched by him again. “Thank you, Luke. I really did miss you. I hope you know I never stopped thinking you, not even for a single day.”

His eyes twinkled gently. While it was fun to tease you on the inside because whatever thing he said it made you become immediatly flustered, it was now your turn to feel a sense of pride washing over you at the sight of his pale cheek turning a dark shade of red. Lucerys had greatly missed you, and your absence was notoriously felt by him. How could he not miss you, his dear friend... And the woman he so dearly adored more than anything?

“I have missed you terribly as well, vēzos qēlossās ñuho, more than you could possibly imagine.” my sun and stars, as he often fancied nicknaming you. Another trait you had missed from Lucerys, was all the nicknames he had only for you, and no one else. Luke knew just how much you loved High Valyrian, and how you appreciated hearing him talk in it, and he wasted no time in teaching you, and talking to you in Valyrian.

“I have needed you by my side more than anything else in my life. And now, the Seven have brought us back together.”

One thing the young Lord had for sure, is that now that you had returned right back into his arms after yeaes of not seeing each other, he wasn’t willing to let you escape so easily from him. You weren’t going anywhere.

Hours had passed since you arrived in King’s Landing and joined the feast. The nerves you had through your travelled had long washed away from you, now feeling a state of tiredness from all the dancing, laughing, and hyperactivity — and also, you still felt the keen emotion remaining on your veins of seeing Lucerys again, and having great fun with the boy you had always held deep into your heart, unlike no other.

An exhausted, yet gentle huff spurred from your lips as you reached the dimly lit chambers to spend the night in, and get some proper rest before parting back to where you belonged. The wooden door slightly creaked, shutting it closed behind of you the moment you entered. And as soon as you were in, your fingers immediatly moved in a lazily hurried manner to untie the laces from your dress.

You already had enough fun for the day, and you couldn’t await any longer to surrender yourself into a deep slumber. Beginning to open your dress slightly to free yourself from your clothing and change into a nightgown, your eyes were half lidded with tiredness. And before you could manage to fully undress, a hushed knock outside your door was heard. Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you turned around.

“Come in.” you chirped gently, curious at who knocked on your door late in the evening. The door was swiftly opened, creaking once again, only to reveal Lucerys. It was hard for you to fight back a smile at the mere sight of him. As soon as his hand closed the door discreetly behind of him, you could feel his eyes curiously lingering on your body, admiring it as your dress was loose. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Trying hard to fight the blushing in your face, noticing the way he took in your figure for his own delight, you shook your head. “N-No, of course you aren’t. I was just preparing myself to sleep.” you explained, “I supposed you were already in bed?” in response, Lucerys simply shrugged. “Yes. But I couldn’t really sleep.” he replied shortly. His arms were both hidden behinds his back, gently approaching you with quiet footsteps.

Your eyebrows kept furrowed, awaiting for him to keep going. Some moments of awkward silence remained on the atmosphere, noticing how Lucerys seemed to struggle whatever he had to tell you. His hazel eyes remained on the ground, before raising his sight and staring at you. “I can’t sleep, knowing you’re finally here with me, after all these years.” he managed to whisper out. It seemed slightly shy, but at the same time, you knew his words were genuine.

“When I say I missed you, I truly mean it. I wish I could have seen you more often, like we used to do in our youth.” nibbling discreetly on your lower lip, you stood stiff in front of him, playing with the hem of your sleeves. “I never cared about whoever I married. That was supposed to be part of my duty as a future Lord—” abruptly, Luke paused for some seconds, before continuing. “—But the only person whom I genuinely adored ever since I have memory, and never stopped thinking about, was you.”

Lucerys stood right in front of you, shadowing you slightly with his height. Your sight was raised to stare at him in disbelief, feeling heat rise your cheeks. Nervously, Luke placed his hand on your cheek, beginning to caress your skin with the tip od his thumb. “You have no idea how I have longed for you; how not seeing you as often as we did when we were younger made me need you more than anything.” his thumb slowly moved towards your lower lip, brushing it. Your lips partly opened, losing yourself on the way he gazed down at you.

“I can’t hold back the fact that I love you. I’m in love with you, and I would anything to prove it to you, and have you by my side for the rest of my life.” for him, in a way, it was a relief to get those words off of his chest. Lucerys was undoubtedly devoted to you, and he never laid his eyes upon anyone else, but you. Unconsciously, you allowed the weight of your head to fall against the palm of his hand, melting at the feeling of his thumb stroking your cheek sweetly.

Without answering, your eyes were fixed on his own for a few seconds, appreciating the silence that had formed between the two of you. Suddenly, you tiptoed, firmly gripping his clothing to quickly pull him closer to you as he leaned further, and your lips immediatly locked against his own for the first time ever. Kissing him was an urgent need that you desperately craved. After many years of daydreaming about savouring the taste of his lips, you finally had the opportunity to do so, and you took it.

His lips tasted like seasalt, and at the same time, they were endearingly sweet, as well as plump. Initially, your actions took Lucerys by surprise... But much like you, ever since he had fallen head over heels for you, not one day passed without him fantasising about holding you in his arms, tasting your lips, and being more intimate with you. You kissed with such vigor, and so fervently that neither of you were aware of what you were doing, or were even aware of your surroundings anymore, as Lucerys placed one of his hands behind your neck, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss.

You were desperate to feel his body pressing against yours, to feel his warmth seeping into you. You wanted him, and you needed him. Your hands caressed his chest as they moved up and down, playing occasionally with the buttons of his clothing, trying desperately to gain some kind of feeling for his skin. Quietly you gasped as Lucerys abruptly pulled away from your lips, leaving you heavily panting, just like he panted. In disbelief, you stared at him notoriously desperate to keep kissing him, and he softly scoffed.

Sliding one of his hands on your waist, he moved to sit on the edge of your bed, falling down into the mattress with a huff. His hand then patted gently his lap. “Come. Sit on my lap.” he offered, smiling at you invitingly. Happily obliging, you did as he offered, immediatly approaching closer to him just to sit on his lap, weighing on him very softly, and wrapped your arms firmly around your neck. A smug grin appeared on his rosy lips as his hands were on your waist, caressing you with his fingers slowly.

You pressed yourself tightly against him, lowering down your face to press a smooch agaisnt his lips, to which Luke rapidly reciprocated. “You should sit on my lap more often.” he whispered, trailing kisses from your cheeks, lowering himself to your jawline, and approaching your neck. “It makes you look prettier, more than you already are.” his hot breath against your sensitive skin made you shiver softly, gasping as he spoke in a low tone, and kept pressing tender pecks on your neck.

One of his hands that rested on your waist moved slowly downwards, attempting to lift your dress to slip a hand under it, grasping your skin. Throwing your head back to give him further access to your flesh, you hummed quietly as your eyes were closed. His sight was raised to stare at you, as his other free hand played with the laces of your dress. “May I keep kissing and touching you?” you opened your eyes, looking down at him. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, scraping his nails across your skin teasingly as one of his hands was under your dress, touching your leg.

If it were for him, he could take you right there, and pamper and show you just how much he adored you more than anything else in the world. But his mother taught him how to be a proper, respectful gentleman — he preferred to have your full consent before allowing his impulses to act by themselves, especially when it came to treating you.

You returned the way Luke gazed at you, with warmth and love, shyly smiling down at him. Leaning closer to him, lowering your face, you placed a gentle kiss onto his cheek, resting your lips there for several seconds. Luke’s lips curled into an easy smile, feeling your lips against his cheek, and gently craned his head slightly to kiss your lips. “Yes, you may. And you don’t need to ask for my permission, Luke” you agreed, closing your eyes once again, allowing him to continue with exploring every inch of your skin with fervor.

Lucerys leaned forward to place feather light kisses along your collarbone and on your throat, his touch almost feverish as he took you in his arms. He continued to pepper kisses on your neck, moving to your breasts, and your chest began to ache from how hard your heart was beating. You growled silently as one of his hands began untying the laces of your dress, loosening your clothing from your body as his lips focused on placing tender, yet desperate kisses on your breasts.

Writhing slightly on top of him, quiet moans spurred from your lips needily. Your hips began grinding against him, sliding a hand behind the back of his head, interwining your fingers between strands of his brunette messy hair. The sound of your muffled moans were drowned out by the sound of your pounding heartbeat, the sensation so sweet that you couldn’t help but feel the need to do it again and again, until it became unbearable.

Unable to wait any longer, you bit your lip sharply to suppress another moan. Your body tensed as Luke lifted your dress by it’s hem, up to your stomach. “You’re so precious, I could take care of you—” he whispered, interrupting himself briefly, moving his hand to caress your stomach with his fingertips in a slow, dedicated manner, until they travelled downwards to play with the waistband of your underwear. “No, I will take care of you so perfectly — like you deserve to be taken care of.” beneath you, you could feel his growing erection poking against your clothed, moistened genitalia; achingly throbbing in need to feel him.

It felt as if you were dreaming. Such things could occur in your fanaties — and yet, you were. Overall, despite the notorious eager wave of emotions washing over you, you felt rather nervous. It was the first time in your life you would ever have such intimate moment, only having known about what other ladies experienced, but never having the opportunity of doing it yourself. What comforted you, was the thought of Lucerys being there to guide you through, and knowing just how gently delicate ans patient he always was around you.

You swallowed, as you were pressed firmly against his lap, grinding against each other unconciously; the room being filled with your heavy pants. One of his trembling hands moved in a hurried manner to unbuckle his belt, loosening his trousers and rapidly lowering his pants. Attentively staring at his actions, your breath sharpened. You placed your hand on his chest, catching his attention. “Luke, wait–” you whispered, nervously.

Lucerys’ eyebrows knitted in worry, being afraid he might have pressured you, or even made you feel uncomfortable, as he patiently awaited for you to continue. “P-Please go slowly, and gentle. I-It’s my first time.” you awkwardly admitted, keeping your gaze elsewhere timidly as a blush crept on your skin. A sigh of relief escaped from him, knowing you were merely wishing him to go slow and gentle.

He quietly chuckled, pressing his lips against the corner of your lips, and placing several kisses on that zone as his other hand cupped your cheek tenderly. “Of course, my love. I wasn’t planning on treating you otherwise, either way.” your eyes closed as a smile grew on your own lips, feeling loved and pampered by the young Velaryon Lord. “Please continue, Luke. I need you.” you whispered back, moving your head to meet your lips with his own.

A growl of approval came deep from his throat. The hand that cupped your cheek let go of it slowly, and moved downwards towards his underwear, tugging on the fabric. He removed them quickly, before leaning forward to place light pecks on your lips once more as your own shaking hands removed your panties, sliding them through your legs quickly and tossing them apart.

Once he did lower his underwear, he pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “If you wish me to stop, tell me. I could never try to hurt you in any way, my sweet.” Lucerys spoke softly, almost shyly; and who could blame him? You were as delicate as the petal of a flower. But you didn’t want him to stop, not now.

You gave him a small reassuring nod, encouraging Lucerys to continue. The young Lord smiled to himself, finally pulling out his erection, feeling it’s tip poke against your wet folds, rubbing himself teasingly; which made several groans escape from you. You straddled him, wrapping your legs around his waist. His panting became heavier, ocassionally hitching his breathing as your moist folds grinded against his tip, which leaked precum. Both his hands gripped firmly your waist, trailing kisses all across your neck in between gasps.

Slowly and carefully, moving his hips, and helping your body move down to him, his erected member slipped inside your tight entrance. Initially, the stinging, burning sensation of your inner walls being stretched made you groan; immediatly hiding your face in the crook of Lucerys’ neck, and digging your nails deep into his skin. His arms were wrapped tightly around you, staying still at the sight of your reaction, looking down at you with concern.

“A-Are you alright, love?” Lucerys knew ladies took their time until they adjusted themselves during intercourse. And for you, Luke was willing to be as patient and loving as he could possibly be. With a hitched breathing, clinging yourself to him as he peppered the top of your head with kisses, you nodded weakly. You awaited until you adjusted to his size, feeling your slick increase as it leisurely turned into a pleasant sensation.

“Y-You can continue, please.” you mumbled in a whisper, placing a soft kiss on his shoulder blade. A smile grew on him as one of his hands caressed the back of your head, playing with the strands of your silky hair lovingly — as if Lucerys admired every bit that composed the entirety of yourself. And with a gentle movement, holding firmly your waist with one of his hands, he kept pushing further inside slowly. A high-pitched groan escaped from you, moving down on his cock.

Your soft moans and pants became louder, the more used you became to the feeling. Despite your sweet sounds encouraging him to go further, his movements remained gentle and slow, yet deep. “G-Gods,” he breathed out, as you moved your face, encountering his own, to press a quick sloppy kiss. “Y-You feel so tight, and you take me s-so well, issa jorraelagon—” continous growls escaped deeply from his throat as your pussy tightened around his erection with each penetration. “I-Is it okay if I move faster? I-I promise I will still be gentle,” he inquired in a low tone, moving his green eyes to stare at you, awaiting to know if you felt comfortable and ready enough. You nodded vehemently in approval, nibbling down your lower lip to hold back your pleasured grunts.

Desperately, beginning to progressively move faster — much to your delight, heard in your high-pitched whines —, his lips found their way to your sensitive neck, making you throw your head back to give him more carnal access. “S-Seven Hells, your skin f-feels like I’m kissing soft silk, you’re beautiful.” he praised, using softly his tongue to pass it across the soft spots in your neck, occasionally nibbling on them while he pressed you all the way down against his throbbing cock.

“A-And you taste so sweet. F-Fuck, I adore you.” a soft fleshy sound accompanied the simultaneous pants spurring from your mouths, which then became slightly loud moans despite the urge of holding them back. His hips moved upwards, making his thrusts against your wet cunt become more intense, hitting deeply against your sweet spot. With each pound against that one spot, his name escaped relentlessly from your mouth. “L-Lucerys,” you growled, as his lips continued focusing on your neck, throat, and moving to your collarbone; in each kiss, a cry of pleasure spurred helplessly from him.

“I-I love you. I love you more than y-you could possibly imagine... More than anyone else.” he murmured into your neck, sucking and nipping at the tender skin there with the gentlest touch he could muster. With each word that passed between his lips, a moan left you with each breath, his hips moving even harder as he let himself get lost in your intimate encounter.

This wasn’t like having intimacy with his previous, now deceased wife — that was done for mere duties and responsabilities; to bring heirs to Driftmark, the ones that would sit in the Driftwood throne. This, was an intimate act strictly out of love. It was a moment Luke always longed to have with you, the person whom he truly desired unconditionally, and the one whom he was willing to give his entire heart and soul, and all of the love that he had. “Skorkydoso kostagon ao sagon sīr vok, se gevie? A-Ay jorrāelan–” (how can you be so perfect, and beautiful? I love you.) You owned his heart, and you most certainly belonged with him.

As his pace quickened, you were able to grab onto his shoulders to support yourself without letting go of him, feeling his muscles tense underneath your fingertips as he continued to move into you. He was going fast enough for both of your bodies to come undone with a mix of ecstasy, but at the same time, pure love that was expressed in his gentle — yet intense — thrusts, kisses, and words of praising. Your slick was coated well enough all across his throbbing member, making it easier for him to slip in and out of you with fervid intensity.

A knot formed inside your stomachs the deeper and faster his thrusts were against your moistened cunt, hitting against your overstimulated folds. Your violently legs shook as they were firmly wrapped around his body, while he continued to hit your sweet spot that made you absolutely weak, clinging to him needily the closer you felt to coming. Both your arms were around his neck, slightly digging your nails deep into the skin of his back.

The panting that escaped from both of your lips intensified, becoming loud growls and moans as the knot inside your stomachs tightened, feeling as if it was about to loosen at any moment. His cock became harder inside of you, pulsating; as you couls feel your own slick coming down faster. Eagerly, while one of his hands remained gripping your hip to help you with your own movements, his other hand went to the back of your head, intertwining his fingers in between strands of your hair, pulling you closer to him.

“Avy jorrāelan,” (I love you) Lucerys whispered against your lips, grasping them against his own. “Nyke kostagon mērī jorrāelagon ao.” (I can only love you), he continued, as his lips needily locked with your own, tilting his head slightly as to deepen the kiss, feeling your intensifying hot pants continously hit against your skins. You could feel your orgasm approaching, your core tightening as your stomach twisted in an increasingly uncomfortable way.

A loud groan escaped deep from your throat against his lips as you felt your walls tighten around his pulsating cock, milking him, and your own cum violently coming down as a flush of wetness. His hands firmly gripped both your hips, pressing you all the way down his shaft. A loud groan pleasantly escaped from him, feeling his cum shot several spurs inside of you, provoking in you to feel warmth in your stomach.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, parting is lips aqay from you briefly, resting his forehead lazily against you. A grin curved on the corner of his lips, chuckling breathlessly to himself as both of you tried to calm down from your simultaneous orgasm and release. His fingertips caressed your hips with a shaky movement from the arousal, remaining buried deep inside of you.

Copying his previous actions, you released a panting giggle. “I-I quite liked that, Luke.” you whispered, rubbing the tip of your nose against his own lovingly. Humming contentedly, Lucerys returned the affection. “You have no idea how much I missed you, my Lord Velaryon. And how many times I imagined for this to happen.” a faint rosy pins hue formed on his cheeks, as his chest rose and fell slowly, trying to catch his breathing.

Without thinking it, both his hands cupped your cheeks, and his lips began exploring your face by littering you with delicate kisses — tresting you as if you were made of glass. “My sweet princess,” Lucerys whispered, not fighting back a smile. His index finger fell to your arm, moving it downward to explore your skin, feeling it delicately on his digit, until it reached your hand. “I could say the exact same to you, and many other things. You are so perfect, physically and personally, I would despise it if any other Lord had your attention.”

Immediatly your arms were wrapped against his neck again, giggling as you placed your lips on the tip of his nose. Gods, his heart was melting at how much pure love and desire he felt for you. It could combust from being overwhelmed at his own affection. His green eyes fluttered shut, allowing to be pampered in those little kisses coming from your pretty lips, leaving their warmth on his flesh.

Lucerys let his head tiredly rest on the crook of your neck, inhaling discreetly as to feel your endearing honey scent intoxicate him. How could he have not missed you? And now that you were there with him, having had sexual relationships and shared kisses and feelings, you weren’t going to so easily escape from him now. Merely remembering how you distanced yourself after his betrothal felt like a burning, stinging pain on his heart.

His arms were protectively wrapped around your waist, growling in delight quietly. Lazily, Luke placed a kiss on your shoulder blade, opening his eyes to look up at you staring at him adoringly.

“Nyke jāhor daor ivestragī ao jikagon, issa prūmia. Ao jāhor daor dakogon qrīdrughagon hen issa dombo.”

♡ taglist : ♡

@jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @keiratonks @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @phantasyy @tasty-nutella @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovesbook-akie @zzz000eee @bellarkeselection @feliuuuksks @visenya-reigned @maria699669 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @sweethoneyblossom1 @jamiemydeer @snowprincesa1

#lucerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon x reader smut #lucerys velaryon smut #prince lucerys x reader #luke velaryon x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader smut #house of the dragon x reader smut #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x you

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sunofpandora · 3 months

Text

Authors note:

AYEEEE CHAPTER TWO

Wow! I was not expecting all the kind comments and the taglist requests from chapter 1. I’m genuinely in shock, still. The comments and reposts got me teary eyed.

V I R A G O

Word count: 6k

Chapter 2

The son sun made of stone

words.

𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼/𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼/𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼/

‘Y/n was made of fire. Oh, a goddess girl with lips of lightning and a caged Phoenix under her skin. Neteyam is just the ashes and remains of the heavens she crushed under her heel.’

General Warnings: na’vi reader/ reader is a war orphan/ as always, spider, the reader, and Lo’ak are a trio/ Lo’ak and Reader being platonic soulmates?/ Spider and Reader being trauma twins/ Neteyam being lovesic/ Neteyam being nervous and shy around reader/ Neytiri being mother/ Jake being the husband i wish i had/ Tuk being a little sister and looking up to y/n/ Mentions of grace’s school./ reader fell first but Neteyam fell way harder/ sun x moon relationship

Chapter 2 warnings: jealous neteyam/ mentions or anxiousness/ mentions of war and death/flirting/ mentions of dead animals/ mentions of grief and injuries/

Extra info:

Y/n is one year younger than neteyam, she is 18 and he is 19.

Lo’ak is 18 and Kiri is also 19. Tuk is 7-8 and spider is 19.

Extra characters:

Ka’lik (y/ns father. A deceased warrior of the Omaticaya clan)

Zensira (y/n’s mother. deceased best singer and head songstress of the Omaticaya clan)

Makeyo (a warrior of the omaticaya clan. The same age as neteyam and went through iknimiya the same day as well. A filthy simp for y/n)

Kailo (Y/n’s ikran. Your ikran is a male ya’ll. sorry.)

Popiti (tuk’s best friend according to the visual dictionary)

Chapter two synopsis:

Neteyam comes to return y/n’s bracelet and has some internal conflict about his feelings towards her. Makeyo attempts to make a move on y/n and Neteyam experiences a different type of burning in his heart.

Neteyams Pov (trying something new by writing from neteyams pov as a little experiment. Lemme know how yall like it.)

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

“Neteyam”

For a moment the sound of my name leaving her lips in a breath is almost enough to forget myself and drop to my knees.

The tuft of my tail thwacks the back of my head gently and i force my heartbeat to endure boundaries.

I clear my throat, finding the words.

My eyes fan over her figure.

The moonlight contours the crevices of her curves. Her eyes, an amorous gold, spark themselves luminous. Almost Neon in the darkness of night.

There's a bandage around her torso, and one around her left bicep. Her skin smells of grandmother's salves and wooden bowls.

It’s funny how fast the memories flood back.

There was a time before she was made of fire.

Well, actually, I don't think that’s a fair statement.

There was always a spark. Always that small flicker refusing to perish even in strong winds.

I have memories of playing in the stream with my siblings and Y/n, and occasionally spider.

She’d chase me. Her feet assaulted the shin deep water with the harsh sloshing of her feet. She tackled me and pulled on my tail. The sunburst air is sweet like nectar against our glistening skin and shrieks of laughter and springtime memories.

Her laughter challenges the brightness of the sugared sun rays that danced through the canopy, it shakes the stars with its loud singing.

The scattered droplets of water seize on her skin as she chases lo’ak, carrying a smaller spider on her back.

Now she stands before me. Taller, stronger, a warrior in all its forms.

I clear my throat once again, my eyes flickering over her body.

“How are you? Grandmother was able to treat you?”

She nods, leaning lightly against the wooden entrance frame of the marui.

“The wounds could have been worse. Mo’at was able to clean up the wounds just fine. Tsahik suggested i rest here for the night..’

She trials off, clicking her tongue as she gently taps her finger against the bandage.

The dwindling echoes of our breaths gently keep the silence afloat.

My eyes flicker up when her voice catches my ears.

“You? Any injuries?”

I shrug. “A few scratches. Nothing Serious. Lo’ak has a small bruise on his head but he’ll be fine. Mother treated us earlier.”

Something somber in her irises flickers. It’s small, but its not quiet. I open my mouth to speak but like most other things between us, she beats me to it.

“Why did you fly down there today? You could have been killed.”

There’s a hiss at the endnotes of her voice. And I don't blame her for being pissed. Not for a second.

I frown, I can feel my tail thump lightly against the ground.

“Lo’ak flew his way down there first. I wet after him.”

My confession trails a veil of blankness behind it that lingers in the air. She shakes her head, staring down.

“It’s not a thing of fault. I should have been more responsible. Im the older brother, after all-”

“Bullshit.”

The suddenness of her words make me pause. It wasn’t unexpected, but it seems a bit more vague than usual. Even for her.

“Y/n i-”

“No. No, Neteyam this has to come to an end. You can’t keep taking the fall for him. How many times will you let yourself fall off a cliff before you learn not to justify the one who pushed you off the ledge?”

I’m quiet for a moment. I feel another frown etch itself onto my lips.

“I must hold myself accountable as well. I am the future leader of this clan. If i cannot even keep my siblings out of trouble, how will I protect my people?”

I’m sure loak had told her of the scolding we received from my father.

She takes a step closer, the fire in her gaze challenges all it sees. My heartbeat speeds up its sympathy.

“Then who protects you, Neteyam?”

I’m still for a moment. My throat hitches quietly and my words come up short.

She takes a breath and shifts herself back a bit, rubbing two fingers to her temple.

Her eyes creased with exhaust. I can tell the day has drained her.

“I’m sorry. I spoke out of line.”

“You never have to apologize to me.”

I can tell it surprises her a bit. How fast my words chased after her own.

My hesitation creeps its way through the blanket of gray that treads along the silence.

I clear my throat once again, averting my gaze.

“I’m glad you returned safely. I was worried sick.”

She chuckles and gently flips the small spiral in her hand.

“Had my lucky charm on my bow today. I guess i have you to thank.”

I cannot help but feel an ache every time I see that damned spiral. Iv’e tormented myself with an object so small it's pathetic. Really. A substitution for the words i couldn't speak.

I force a smile, a gentle chuckle to follow along.

“Well. I see its made some sort of use.”

She nods and places it gently back into the pocket of her loincloth.

I find myself doing the same, fishing around my own pocket until i hear the small clatter of beads.

Ihold her bracelet out to her.

“Here. You lost this today.”

She gasps softly. My heart beckons for my unspoken yearning whenever i saw her eyes light up like that. And fuck, I curse myself for looking away.

She placed it back on her wrist.

“Thank you, Neteyam. I would have been looking for days.”

When her fingers brush my palm a new wave of sun-streaked warmth swallows my chest in the pale moonlight.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

I would do anything for you.

She chuckles softly and I swear I feel my knees buckle at the sound.

All I can do is stare at her for a moment. My eyes tracing her curves and imagine it’s my fingertips, kissing my small apologies onto her skin.

The small breeze wisps at the small loose hairs that edged at her forehead, scattered out of her braids. Her scent is sweet. Her eyes are wondrously doe-like.

I wish i could pocket the sounds of her laughter. I wish i could reach for her and brush her skin against mine if it meant even a second of her warmth is relished in.

I want her. All of her. I want her fire even if it burns me. I want her wild high-tide seas even if they drown me. I want her heart even if I must beg for it. I want her lips, and her hands. I want every rough edge and every smooth surface.

It finds a way to bind me in its threshold of longing before I even register what I've done.

My hand reaches out. The planes in the lines of my palm rest against her cheek and the pad of my thumb rubs small circles on the small temple of a space in front of her ear.

I’d forget I ever existed if it was convenient for her.

There was a time I pretended she didn’t exist. Where fear and thought collided with my panic.

Years ago. After I gave her that spiral.

I made her mere presence become a voidance in my life. A small patch of blankness that traced her shape.

There’s a reason this void stands between us. I hurt her. And I will never forgive myself for it.

I was afraid. I was afraid of what my feelings would do to me. Of what it would do to the future olo’eyktan of this clan. I feared distraction. I feared devotion. And now i yearn for it. Call it a punishment, call it karma or something more. All I know is that I pushed her away. It of my arms, out of my circle, and I thought giving her that spiral would fix my mistakes.

It hurts me. The look in her eyes when I avoided her around the village. The way her gaze chased after me when i walked away

I was 15, afraid and stupid. I still haven’t forgiven myself from keeping her out of my circle.

Now I stand before her. This woman I may never deserve. This beautiful woman who will forever hold my heart in her hands.

She stares at me. But it's full of a sour memory that resonates on the edge of her tongue.

“Neteyam..”

There it is. How she says my name.

Fuck.

Fuck, why did I ever think, even for a mere moment my heart wasn’t hers?

Say it again.

Say it again,y/n please i beg you.

But I don't dare say it aloud.

Instead I whisper to her, my thumb stopping its movements for a moment as i cradle her head.

“Y/n, yawne. I am so, so sorry I didn't protect you today. I couldn't bare the thought of you in danger. “

She pushes my hand away, and for a moment the moonlight feels bitter.

“I don’t need your protection.”

It’s not that I think I don't deserve that.

But is it wrong for it to still ache?

“Y/n. please-”

“It is late, neteyam. I wish to rest now. Please.”

Theres a small tremble in the endnotes of her voice.

And i want to strangle the one who caused her this.

But what more can i do when i caused it myself?

I take a step back, gently bowing my head.

My eyes linger on her for a moment longer.

“Good night, Y/n.”

“Good night, Neteyam.”

As the tent flap closes, I take a step back. Staring up at the moon through the large crevices that topped the mountain of highcamp.

Maybe she doesn't belong in my arms.

I ache for her at night. I dream of holding her. I beg for the figment of her not to feebly collapse into stardust and watch her wither out of my grasp. Her arrow aims at my heart and I tell her of my heartache.

She says nothing as I’m on my knees for her. Her glare is a cryptic mockery. She weakens me. Every moment of this fleeting moment within my reverie is a punishment. The morning sunset is bitter and the sky feels skeletal.

To her my devotion is a joke and all I can think of is how fucking beautiful she is when she laughs.

I had a dream once that I kissed her. I kissed her until I couldn’t breathe. She tasted dark and delicate.

I am hers. I was always hers.

I’d let her ruin me.

Unravel every piece of me and stitch back together what left is salvaged of those small fragments and watch as they spell out her name.

Y/n.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆

The next morning was calmer than yesterday to say the least.

Lo’ak went with my father to hunt.

Kiri went with my grandmother to help in the Tsahik tent.

Y/n was off with her own duties, and that left me to help my mother in our family's marui.

Oh yeah, did I mention Tuk?

It wasn’t abnormal that I often found myself conversing with Tuk.

She sits in with her smaller legs tucked under her body. Her hands are much like mine and my mothers, but small and juvenile. They lack gracefulness as they scramble with my braids, slipping the beads she made all by herself (Kiri helped) into my braids. She giggles when I tell her about my hunts. She smacks my forehead with her palm when I tilt my head the wrong way. She climbs over me in all sorts of odd ways while I wince every now and then at the occasional stepping on of my tail.

“Teyam. Stop looking down!”

Tuktirey huffs and my head snaps up, all my attention shifting to my youngest sibling.

“Ah. sorry tuk-tuk.”

She sighs dramatically and continues stringing the beads into my hair.

I smile at my youngest sister. I was close with Tuk. me and her being the only two children out of my siblings that closely resembled my mother’s na’vi features. I don’t credit myself completely. I don’t think it's fair to say that my mother and fathers genes are divided narrowly. Lo’ak my have my fathers appearance but he wields my mothers rebelliousness with pride. Her survival instincts. Her thrill for a chase. Her fire and her wind. Grandmother always found herself amused whenever my mother found herself annoyed with Lo’aks antics. Apparently my mother was no different when she was his age. Chasing rainstorms and dancing through fire. Grandmother always says lo’ak is my mothers shadow.

Me, on the other hand? i've always strived to be like my father. I still do. I remember sitting around a fire as a small child, listening to stories of his days of battle and heroicness. I don’t glorify my father as much as I did then. But he’s still the same man to me, all the same.

Tuk is in the middle of rambling about her morning gossip she gathered from Popiti, as she strings another bead onto my braids.

It's a bit of a guilty pleasure, I suppose. Being entertained by other’s conflicts. Certainly not proper behavior for the eldest son of toruk makto. Alas, what kind of big brother would I be if I didn't let Tuk carry herself away with her words without worry?

I can’t hide that I enjoy it. But telling myself its for tuk helps a bit.

“And then what?” I query Tuk softly, urging her to continue her story.

She giggles before placing a green colored bead on my braids.

“Well, Popiti’s big sister, Kyuna, didn’t take Takuk’s courting gift!”

I gasp, over-exaggerating my shock to amuse my younger sister, she nods, equally as shocked.

“I know, right!?”

I shake my head, feining disappointment as Tuk giggles.

“My eywa. Poor Takuk.”

Tuk nods, patting down my braids gently.

I try to look over to my right side at where she sat without turning my head.

“Did she say why?”

Tuk shrugged.

“Popiti heard her mom and Kyuna talking. Kyuna said that she didnt want Takuk for a mate.”

I nod, fidgeting with my beaded choker.

“Huh. Well then, good for Kyuna. She knows what she wants, i guess.”

I trail off with my own internal theories.

I knew Kyuna. She was a young healer in the clan. I didn’t care for her much. She was a bit cocky. Always had some excuse for getting out of tasks she didn’t feel like completing.

I also knew Takuk.

I had been in hunting groups with him. We went through iknimaya training together. He was smart. A fine huner. A decent provider. He seemed like a fine mate for anyone.

Tuk suddenly gasped, her ears twitching as she stared up at me with her big eyes.

“Teyam! You could be Kyuna’s mate!”

I still at her revelation, she blinks at me with baited breath for response.

I cant help but chuckle as i ruffle the smaller girl’s braids.

“It's a kind offer, Tuk. But I'm not ready to mate yet. Remember what I told father?”

Who could forget? The most awkward family dinner in the world where i pleaded with my father to give me more time before I choose a mate. My siblings watching as me and my father bickered for a good hour. I think its really the only time iv’e stood up to him. Disagreed with him. My father has been patient since then when it comes to finding my tsahik. But the only reason he is because of my mother finally convinced him to give it a rest.

Finding a mate can be a long process for some.

I already knew who i wanted my mate to be. There wasn’t any debate. And I will wait for her. I will wait to earn her trust back. For as long as it takes. I will be hers for when shes ready. I am hers even when she’s not. That is a promise I refuse to break.

Tuk huffs.

“But whyyyy? Kyuna is pretty. Not as pretty as mama or kiri or y/n-

But she’s not mated.”

I sigh and gently rub Tuk’s back.

“You’ll understand when you’re older. I promise.”

She huffs again but nods, going back to braiding my hair.

Shes in the middle of telling me about the big fish she caught when my father took her to the creek the other day when my mother enters the tent, a basket of fruits under her arm.

I straighten up a bit and Tuk gasps happily, standing to her feet and jogging over to my mother.

“Mama! You’re back!”

She hugs my mothers waist, and my mother places a hand on tuks head while trying to balance the basket filled to the brim with yovo fruits.

I stand up, gently taking the basket from under her arm, chuckling softly.

“Here, Sa’nok. (mother) Let me take that for you.”

She sighs in releif, nodding at me, now fully embracing tuk with two free arms.

“Irayo (thank you) Neteyam.”

Tuk sits back down in her previous spot and i carry the basket to the small wooden table, placing it down.

“Nice haul today?”

She smiles at me. “The new grove has almost completed its growth cycle. It's almost time for a new harvest.”

I nod, making a mental reminder to tell my father that later so he can organize more foraging groups.

“Mama, look at how pretty Neteyam is.”

My mother gently examines my newly beaded braids with her fingers, gently taking each braid between her thumb and her palm.

“Very good work, tuktirey. You should help me do mine later. Why don’t you go to your grandmothers tent, hm? I left a large bowl of new beads on the far side corner, near her salve pouch.

Her eyes sparkle and before my mother can say another word, Tuk is racing out of the tent flap.

I laugh along with my mother, and she sits, starting to cut up some fruits.

“Ma’itan, could you help me with this?”

I nod, unsheathing my knife and sitting down next to her, helping her peel some fruits.

A silence fills the air for a moment, until my mothers soft, accented voice breaks through the gray.

“What troubles you, Neteyam?”

Of course she knew.

I was born from the pieces of my mothers ash-littered broken promises and my father’s guilt-ridden internal death sentence.

My mother and i were tapestries weaved from the same colors.

I am my mother’s son.

She knew me like the back of her hand. She doesn’t have to recognize me by face. I know my father and my mother both love me. But when my mask cracks like this, my mother isn’t like my father. He tries to tighten it to ensure it doesn’t fall down again. My mother tries to mend the cracks.

I sigh, avoiding her gaze.

“Nothing Sa’nok. I am fine.”

I’m a shit liar. That’s just a known fact about me. She knows i’m lying. And maybe thats a good thing. Maybe she knows to just leave it be.

She chucks another fruit skin peel to the side as it forms a small pile with the other discadrded peels.

“Is it because of your fathers words, yesterday? He was harsh, I know..But he is just afraid, Neteyam.”

That’s not what’s wrong, but I decide it's better than saying ‘hey ma i’m helplessly in love with a woman who probably hates my guts’

Daddy issues it is.

I nod, still avoiding her gaze.

“Yes. I know. Father just wants what's best for us.”

My mother sighs for a moment, pausing her movements, her knife ceasing its carving into the new fruit.

She looks over at me and she smiles.

There’s something about that smile. It’s like an echo that beckons your name. It’s like a face with lines scribbled over it. Sometimes when my mother looks at me I feel as if she’s seeing someone else. Flesh wrapped around the stories foretold under my bones.

She see’s someone else’s shadow in my place. As if a ghost welcomes itselfinto the sequence of a wreckage of memories unknown to me.

She speaks quietly.

“Your father and you are more alike than you may think, Neteyam.”

I can’t hep but smile at her words. Theres fanned flowers that grow under the gray cast of gilded clouds under the garden of her irises. She smiles too.

“I mean it, Neteyam. I see more of him in you every day, my son.”

I’m quiet for a moment, but my smile only falters slightly.

“What was he like, my father? When you first met him?”

My mother sighs, the infinite memories flickering past her eyes.

“When I first met your father, I was trying to kill him.”

I can’t help but chuckle. The story all too familiar to me from being told countless times as a child. But it’s not quite what im looking for.

“No, no- i know how you met but-

What was he like? Really?..”

My mother thinks for a moment, not sparing me a glance as she continues cutting her fruit.

“He was stupid. An idiot. I did not think he would survive a single day out here in the forest.”

I hum in agreement trying to visualize everything from her eyes.

“But he was..”

She sighs.

“He was persistent. Like a weak animal with no hope of survival. But it just refuses to die. Sometimes I thought the world moved twice as fast for him..he was eager. To learn, to live. To taste the wind and the sky..”

For a moment, I see a secondary shadow behind the fragments of my parents love story.

My father told me he felt drawn to my mother from the first moment he saw her.

I see something else in place of the ghost behind the path of stars that led my mother to my father.

I see a man who yearns for a woman. I see a man on his knees, I see his devotion. I see his heart in his hands, i see his stained fingertips of an unfamiliar sleepless skin.

I see a woman so beautiful she might as well be a figment of the moonlight, and i’m jealous of the wind and the air and the breeze because of how easily it touches her skin.

I see her arrow aimed at his heart and the distrust in her eyes. I see her anger, and her betrayal as it echoes through a bitter blue heinous flame.

I see y/n. And I see her wall that kept me out.

I look at my mother, a shell of something that once was taking a new shape.

Was it possible? For history to rhyme?

“How..how long did it take you to love him? Even though he was an enemy.. Even though you didn;t trust him?”

My mother is silent for another moment.

She gently places her knife down, placing her hands on her thighs as she stared at the blank tented wall infront of her.

“I think it was foretold by the stars, ma’itan.

I hated him. I hated him because of what he was and where he came from. I hated his false demon body and i hated the way he walked, and talked. I hated his hair and his hands and his eyes.

I hated him because of what his people took from me. I hated him because of the pain they caused my people..

The day I found him in the forest i was going to kill him. My arrow was aimed at his heart. But when the great mother spoke to me I knew better than not to listen.

I think i was always meant to meet him. To teach him my people’s ways..Because it led me to loving him.

That morning when I returned from the tree of souls with him,

My mother had told me if i choose this path, to be his mate, i could never be tsahik.

I told her, "He was my path.”

I’m still as i take in my mother’s words. But the clouds still creep behind my uncertain heartbeat.

“But hometree. And the war. How did you forgive him?”

My mother gently takes my hand in hers, and she takes a breath

“Ma’itan. You will someday learn that love is not easy. It is hungry. It is impatient. It is loud and it is often hidden.

Love gave me many gifts. You, your siblings, my home and my family.

But it has taken much from me all the same.

Love is like swimming in the ocean at night. It's deep, it's dark, the shallows far from reach. But Within that darkness I found your father. I found my light, and someday you will find yours.”

Love is sacrificial. My mother was right. Love isnt easy. Love is sometimes caged and flightless, thick with bitter scents and tearstained starlight. Its bare, and its real, its bruised and blemished and its beautiful because its her. Its Y/n. My y/n. Her name is a hymn of scattered prayers lost to a dreaded dawn and a coppered colored sun. She’s made of every broken and perfect piece of the universe and the stars stumble over their words to describe her beauty

She’s the moon and i’m the sun. Withering myself away every night to allow her to shine.

I will sacrifice. I will work.

She has weakened me. The night sky canvases her skin while the bleakness of sunlight mosaics mine. Famined for her touch, I refuse to look away. I refuse to blink. The sky is a game of chance and the sunset swallows me whole. The scarlet screams in the hellish hues of cerise ablaze under her skin.

I will not settle for anything less than her.

Love is sacrificial. Then i will steal the night sky for her.

I softly smile at my mother before squeezing her hand.

“Thank you, mother.”

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆

(Y/n’s pov)

Love was a funny thing.

You used to think your love for neteyam was forged from heartbeat-rhythmed nightskies and dripping orange soaked sunsets.

It was dreamlike. Bleeding through every crevice and hidden place with its incandescence.

He was a part of you. Apart of everything you were and everything you did.

He was in your dreams when you closed your eyes at night.

He was in the shied morning sun rays that crept over the mountain tops. He was in the wild winds and draped under midnight melodies.

Its the memories of smaller things you remember most.

Giggling while he fumbled with an arrow when he noticed you were watching him practice.

Helping Neytiri stitch together his cummerbund to gift to him when he had completed his iknimiya. You remember the look of pride in his eyes when he wore a piece of your handiwork to represent this new chapter in his life. Concluding his training as a hunter, and becoming a warrior.

You remember taking walks with him through the forest, and the way he would hold a branch back out of your way.

You remember hunting with him, and racing him down the trailed path.

You remember perching on a branch and watching the stars with him. You remember his warmth as he whispered to you all the constellations his father taught him. You remember his hands gently guiding yours to trace the patterns scattered among the stars.

You remember a spark.

And then, you remember a gust of wind that dulled the warmth.

Distance. You can recall distance.

It started out small.

Frequent training with his father.

Watching his siblings.

Hunting. Preparing. Working.

His touch became something you started to crave. Not something that came granted. You remember waiting for him. Waiting for him to return from his hunt, waiting to go stargazing. Liek he promised. You remember checking the sky, the scarlet and blue collide to signify the subduing trials of daylight making its exit.

You remember your mother asking you what you were doing outside.

“Waiting.”

Is all you responded.

You didn’t tell her what you waited for.

Waiting.

He never showed up.

As the sky darkened, it started to rain.

There weren't any stars that night anyways. spider dragged you back inside. Complaining about how he wasn’t taking care of you if you got sick.

Maybe it wasn't rain at all. Maybe the stars didn't come out that night because they were too busy falling through the cracks left in your heart.

You felt forgotten. Unloved. Unwanted.

Lo’ak told you that Jake was always on Neteyam’s ass about his training, and thats why he was so distant.

But it wasn’t just the distance.

His eyes no longer brightened when he looked at you. Its the gaze you give someone when they’re speaking to you, and you aren’t really listening. You’re just waiting for them to be done talking.

Spider watched you come home and cry one night, listened to you scream into your palms and rant angrily for hours about the boy who broke your heart.

Then, the night the sky turned red, a new kind of broken was born.

You remember hearing the whooshing of wings and panicked shrieks of stray ikrans, The unfamiliar scent of something metallic and sulfured.

You remember running into the morning that barely crept ist light over the canopy tips, the still dark sky like a cloak encased the world.

You remember finding your mothers songcord on the ground. You remember finding her body. You remember seeing your fathers not but a few feet away.

You remember the feeling of the air being mercilessly ripped from your lungs.

You remember Jake running towards you, his own panic flooding your ears as he begged you to leave with him. That it wasn’t safe there.

He had to drag you away, holding you tight to him as you practically collapsed into his chest in the front of his ikran.

You remember stumbling into the village upon return, Neytiri catching you in her arms and the blurred sight of her own tear stained face as she cupped your face in her hands. You screamed and cried and fell to your knees as Lo’ak rushed to your side, shushing you gently and rubbing your back.

You remember showing spider the song chord.

You think he cried harder than you did. You both lost your family that day.

You remember the hollowness in the cup of your palm as neteyam held your hand.

You remember when he gifted you that spiral under the starlight.

You always thought he was the sun. And now you know for sure.

Forever out of your reach. Aching for the stretches of salvageable warmth blessed upon your finger tips. You could chase it to the ends of Pandora but every night it would abandon you.

You loved him even if you didn’t know what he was.

Like the sky he was a mystery. Endless but in the midst of the universe it held many treasures he swore he kept just for you. Songs of starlight and supernovas.

You reached for nothing. Hoping to grab the sky and pull yourself into his light. Feel the sunlight on your palm and chase it like the golden hour was a game of chance.

But now, you knew for sure he was the sun.

But he wasn’t your sun.

This sun was made of stone. It was heavy and roughed.

The sky was no longer a mystery. The sun no longer honeyed your skin in favor. Tragedy prevailed the night sky and when his blanket of warmth tried to regain its sanctuary of safety to encase your tainted trust, all you saw was a trail of falling stars you called rain and broken promises.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆

One of your tasks is to teach the younger children of the clan.

You didn’t mind it much. You often found it quite enjoyable.

You beat out most of the young warriors in your group when the clan was discussing who would train the young warriors. Only the best archer of your age group would have such a role.

It was down to you and a girl named Kyuna. She was skilled, but you were better

You chuckle as the little ones scurry past you, little shrieking giggles as they place their practice bows in a pile.

You doubted yourself. You doubted your ability to train those younger than you. What reasons can you give them for fighting when your own was grief?

Seeing the children and watching them learn gave you hope. Hope for a better future.

The lessons today seemed to drag on. The thought of Neteyams words had lingered in your mind since last night.

You sighed to yourself softly as you started to gather all the bows in a basket. Letting your thoughts run free.

“Need help with that?”

You swung yourself around, a hand instinctively resting on the top of your knife sheath,

You found yourself face to face with a slightly taller na’vi boy. His braids to his shoulders. His smile hatched itself on baited breath, his white freckles that scattered across his face.

“Makeyo. For eywa’s sake don’t sneak up on me like that.”

He chuckled in mock surrender, throwing his hands up.

“I know better than to mess with the mighty Y/n. Don’t want to end up with an arrow in my neck.”

You roll your eyes and shoved him playfully.

Makeyo was one of your fathers students. He was a skilled archer, often competing with Neteyam. You grew closer after your parents death. Makeyo was your partner when lt came to training the younger children of the clan. Having already completed his iknimiya, and being a strong piece of the people, he was perfect for assisting you with your role.

“Great practice today, huh?”

The two of you found yourselves chatting while you walked back to the supply tent to return the arrows.

You nodded.

“Ya’here is getting better. Her form has improved.”

He smiled at you, his tail gently brushing your thigh.

“She’ll make a fine warrior one day. She always tells me she wants to be just like you?”

You try to hide the small shock that jolted through you at the sudden contact, with an awkward smile.

“Well, thats scary as shit.”

He raised a brow.

“Why?”

You shrugged.

“Knowing she wants to be just like me? I’m a wreck.”

He sighs, holding the tent flap open for you.

“Well, I think you’re perfect.”

The world seems to still for a moment, and your body feels stiff.

“You’re brave. And strong, and honorable…”

He took a step forward.

“You’re passionate, and you care for others. Especially those kids.”

He gently places a hand on your arm, its firm, but its not demanding.

You feel your breath hitch, and your tail flicks behind you.

“Makeyo. We shouldn’t-”

“Are we intruding?”

You turn to see spider and Lo’ak.

Lo’ak glares at Makeyo, and spider marches in between the two of you, his smaller frame seemingly less intimidating, but you appreciate the effort.

“All right back it up lover boy.

No no, farther than that. far enough that i don’t smell your lack of personal space.”

Spider tugs at your wrist, shooing Makeyo away.

You groan, smacking spider with your tail.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Makeyo.”

Makeyo nods, waving awkwardly to spider and lo’ak before making his exit.

“Uh huh. Keep it moving.”

Lo’ak ushers him away and you hiss at both of them.

“Hey. Dumb and dumber. what the fuck?”

You glare.

Spider throws his hands up in surrender, shaking his head.

“I don’t like that guy, sis.”

The three of you start making your way back towards the sully tent for the night.

You bickered the whole way.

Spider sighs,pointing his thumb in the opposite direction.

“All i’m saying is, big mac over there-”

“His name is Makeyo.”

Spider shrugs.

“Same thing-

But anyways. I don’t like him.”

Lo’ak nods.

“He’s desperate. He wants you bad.”

You roll your eyes.

“Makeyo was just being nice.”

Lo’ak scoffs.

“Y/n, I love you. I really do. But if that’s nice, then flirting might mean getting you pregnant.”

Spider jumps and smacks the back of Lo’ak’s head, making him stumble and wince.

“Son of a bitch-

What was that for!?”

Spider glares at the taller blue boy.

“Don’t jinx it! I’m not ready to be an uncle!?”

“Who’s going to be an uncle?”

Its the moment you hear Jake’s voice the three of you realize you’ve stumbled into the Sully's tent.

The three of you look at one another, then back at Jake.

Spider whistles, pointing to an imaginary watch.

“Oh boy. Would you look at the time? Time for me to go meet norm for dinner…I’ll catch you guys later.”

Lo’ak calls spider a bitch under his breath for abandoning the two of you two deal with the heap of awkwardness.

Jake resumes his task and Neytiri’s voice calls from inside.

“Lo’ak, Y/n. come on, its time to eat.”

You make your way inside, and Neytiri and Kiri come into view, steaming some meat over a fire.

Kiri waves and jogs her way over to give you a hug, her only slightly taller frame pressed against yours.

“Hey. how was your day?” She hums, tucking a braid behind your ear.

Kiri’s voice was melodic and soothing. It drips like the dew drops onto morning grass, kissed by the forest scent.

You go to answer, but before you can you’re body slammed by a smaller na’vi.

“Y/n! You’re back!”

It only takes a blink of an eye for you to open your arms for her, picking her up and putting her on your hip.

“Hey Tuk! How’s my sweet girl?”

Tuk giggles and nuzzles her head onto your neck.

Lo’ak rudley pushes his way between you and kiri.

“Excuse me, don’t i get a hug?”

He huffs dramatically, flipping his braids like some sort of diva.

“Of course you can, Ma’itan.” Neytiri appears behind him and kisses his head. You and the girls giggle and Lo’ak groans.

“Maaa. come on-”

He swats neytiri away and she chuckles, giving you a quick shoulder squeeze next.

“Did your lessons go okay today? How were the children?”

You take a seat next to Kiri, Lo’ak on your other side as Neteyam takes a seat next to Tuk,

You nod in response to Neytiri as Jake hands everyone a piece of meat.

“Doing well. They are making progress. They are learning faster every day. I think they will be ready to try larger arrows soon. Possibly farther targets.”

Jake pats your back.

“Nice work, kiddo.”

“Speaking of targets...”

Lo’ak mumbles under his breath,you respond by smacking him with your tail.

“What?”

Kiri raises an eyebrow.

Lo’ak shrugs.

“Makino or whatever his name is was flirting with Y/n.”

Kiri smiles at you, gently shaking your shoulder.

“Makeyo? He is a fine warrior.”

You groan, not noticing how Neteyams ears pinned back slightly.

“Makeyo?”

His deep, accented voice pulls your focus towards where the boy sat.

All the sudden the space arounds you feels a bit shallow. Lo’ak answers for you.

“Oh yeah. He was really quite brave. He wouldn't have been so brave if he knew me and spider were planning to feed him to a thanator.”

Jake sighs.

“Must we plot a murder at the dinner table?”

Neytiri nods, swallowing her food and handing a piece of her fruit to Tuk.

“Your father is right. Besides, There is no rush for any of you to mate. Y/n, Makeyo would make a fine life partner but you need not decide anytime soon, my sweet.”

Tuk pipes up suddenly.

“Teyam is gonna be mated with kyuna!”

Neteyam nearly spits out his water, going into a coughing fit as he repeatedly brings his fist to his chest to attempt to stop it.

Jake immediately started patting his back, concerned.

“Jesus christ boy! Easy now, don’t forget to swallow.”

“You have chosen Kyuna?”

It comes out more bitter than you thought. The mere thought of another woman in his arms stinging an unfamiliar scorch in your chest,

Or maybe..it wasn’t so unfamiliar.

Neteyam finally breathes normally again and shake his head frantically.

‘“What? No! Of course not.”

“Kyuna? Really bro? Shes kinda a bitch…”

Lo’ak says, attempting to mask it with his own fake cough.

“Hey. Language.”

Jake scolds, pointing his knife he was using to cut Tuk’s meat with at Lo’ak.

“Its true though! She’s always hustling me to do her chores!”

Neytiri raises her eyebrow.

“If it happens repeatedly why do you keep falling for it?”

Lo’ak had no answer.

Kiri clicked her tongue.

“Y/n, didn’t you overrun Kyuna’s role for training the younger children.”

“Oh yeah! That's right! Y/n made her eat dust in that archery trial. No surprise there.”

You felt a small heat spread to your cheeks out of embarrassment.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal…”

Neytiri chuckles and Neteyam speaks up.

“so..Makeyo. You work with him?’

You nod.

“He helps me train the younger group of children. He’s actually quite helpful.

You didn’t notice the way neteyams ears pinned back slightly.

But Lo’ak did.

“Yeah. But he sucks at Ikran riding.”

You raised your eyebrow.

Come to think of it, You don’t think you ever saw him ride his ikran.

“He is?”

Lo’ak nods.

“He and Neteyam went hunting one time. The idiot crashed into a tree while neteyam swerved it easily.”

You can’t help but laugh at the image, and Lo’ak winked at neteyam.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆

Authors note:

HOLY FUCKKKK! I’m finally done! This actually did not take as long as i thought it would.

It’s not as long as the last chapter ya’ll i’m sorry. But hopefully the close times in which both were posted makes up for it?

We’re gonna get some kiri and y/n bonding time in next chapter and hopefully some more jealous neteyam. Btw what did we think of the neteyam pov? Leave some comments about it so i can know whether to add it in later.

Taglist:

@mntx666

@isnt-itstrange

@thebestrouge

@bay7let

@fairuzwhat

@jackiehollanderr

@6423btw

@satesatesate2009

#avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #jake avatar #kiri sully #neytiri #avatar fanfiction #lo’ak x reader #neteyam x you

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jedimandalorian · 19 days

Text

To the Church of Ezrabine at Tumblr:

For your contemplation I present to you another quotation from the sacred texts.

“Top Secret: Ezra has a major crush on Sabine but she thinks he is too young. That doesn’t stop him from trying to impress her though!”

(From the 2015 Star Wars Rebels Annual.)

Both Sabine and Ezra are too immature for a serious romantic relationship when they first meet, so Sabine isn’t wrong to think he’s “too young” for that. However, it is important to note that the text does not say that Sabine does not return Ezra’s feelings or that she will not in the future.

Ezra looks like this now. Sabine can’t use the “he’s too young” excuse anymore. 😉

Ezra “trying to impress her” is a topic that has come up before in our study of the sacred texts.

(This quote is from the “The Rebellion Begins” novelization.)

My commentary: “Zeb, thanks for the foreshadowing. Ezra will spend the next four seasons showing Sabine his talents,” not to mention trying to figure out how to flirt with her. 😏

Does Ezra get over his crush on Sabine? Or do those feelings remain, developing into something more over time?

Ezra practically reveals the secret he’s been hiding for years when he finally meets Sabine’s father.

Ezra has to quickly explain that he’s not “with her” with her, but is just friends with her. He had this hilariously awkward moment with Sabine’s father, not unlike how Kanan embarrassed himself when first meeting Hera’s father. (As a general rule, a prospective groom wants to impress his future bride’s father.) Obviously, Ezra’s “secret” is something he has not spoken about with Sabine yet, even when they are older teenagers.

Even after years of being stranded on Peridea, the feelings that Ezra always had for Sabine are still there, and there’s also a mountain of evidence that Sabine returns those feelings when they are both reunited as adults.

I have blogged about this before.

These two star-crossed would-be lovers belong together. They both deserve that happy ending.

The Prophet of the Church of Ezrabine has spoken.

#sabine wren #ezra bridger #star wars #ahsoka series #sabezra #star wars rebels #ezrabine #Star Wars Rebels Annual

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peeterparkr · 3 months

Text

thus, with a kiss, i die| tom holland

PROLOGUE: the rivalry.

romeo & juliet modern au.

summary: the well known story of star-crossed lovers. Your local bar has two spots for bands, but only one spot for an opportunity to get a record deal. Your band, the Capulets and his band, the Montagues have been rivals long enough. But what happens after a night when you get to know their lead singer?

chapter summary: who are the great rivals at the Verona bar?

pairing: singer!tom holland x guitarrist!reder

warnings: swearing, alcohol mention

word count: 3k

this is literally romeo and juliet, it's one of my favorite stories, if you've read my other works you KNOW I love to quote it, and reference and eveyrhting. Anyway, this is my take on it. Modern world, hope you like it. I haven't written anything in ages so here goes.

character glossary next chapter masterlist

wanna be tagged?

This is an unequivocally known story, a tale as old as time, of those of two star crossed lovers, who most likely lost their mind. Star-crossed lovers, they call them as if the stars were undeniably conspiring against them. Are the stars really against secret, illicit-feeling escapades of a young, naive love, so powerful and strong that it ends up in death?

Or were they too busy to help them out when everything went insane?

Shakespeare said it himself, didn’t he? ‘Violent delights have violent ends’. Perhaps the name and the reference itself doomed upon a foretold tragedy. Yet, here we are.

And it all comes back to a simple rivalry, and thus shall start like it always does. In a small bar named ‘Verona’, always playing live music, near a college. Nothing too unusual, nothing so fancy. With a small stage. Smoking blue and purple. With a wall full of old bottles, just to adorn. A small stage with a few vintage lights hanging from the ceiling, a worn out rug, and a neon light sign which read: ‘Don’t waste your love’.

Where people gathered to have a beer, or two in those small wooden tables, or perhaps in the green couch, nibbling on a few snacks while they listen to one of the two bands Verona offered.

Some liked the Capulets, an all female band. Some liked the Montagues, perhaps for the handsome lead singer. Some liked both. Some liked neither.

But Verona was the rivalry. The rivalry between the two bands was what made Verona an interesting place, or that’s what some people liked to pry upon, the well known story about two former friends, Monty and Billie ‘Cap’ who once fought almost to death and decided to each go their separate ways and declare themselves sworn enemies.

Things hadn’t been quite the same since. Each formed their own band in an act of revelry and had tried to crush the other. The Capulets were known for their soul-crushing lyrics, meanwhile the Montagues were known for their remarkably outstanding sounds. As said before, their lead singer was quite someone that moved crowds. Pleasing to the eye.

The Capulets had recently lost their main guitarist and a rumor of who would join had circulated. Monty was anxious to learn all about the new member. A war shall begin.

In all honesty, nobody really cared about them, but both were on the edge waiting for each other's next movement.

And in the end, they were young and naive with big wishes and hopes, with the same stupid dream that one day someone would walk in the night their gig was on and offer them the entire world.

It was funny, how they believed so much in Verona, just a small bar, that happened to have a few legends come from. A few people said great names like Billy Joel had once played there. Drunk folks are very unreliable narrators. But not quite the most unreliable.

Which brings us to two members of the Capulets, Georgia and Sam. The drummer and pianist, respectively. The first, a short haired, with a diverse set of earrings, a top tank and loose pants. A cigarette hung from the corner of her lips. The two of them were having a drink, knowing they would have to listen to the Montagues later, they needed some alcohol in their body to make sure they could stand the occasion.

Some of Montague’s crew had already arrived and were tuning in. They watched, amused. It was a fair Friday afternoon, and people were gathering already to have a beer and some chips.

“You know, we got the Saturday gig? ” Samantha said as she plaid with a half-full cold beer glass. Her style was more 70’s, big hair, big pants and striped shirt. “If we keep going like this we’re going to crush them.”

“I think we should actually crush them,” said Georgia, puffing her cigarette. “Get a whole ass piano and just dump it on them, cartoon style, y’know? Especially Tom. Gosh, I’d like to just get rid of his stupid British face. I might dislike him more than Monty.”

Sam shrugged. “That was a great move, you’ve got to admit that.”

“Aye, great move? Getting a pretty face just to get more audience, please,” Georgia rolled her eyes. “This should be about talent!”

Although she knew that half the girls there were just there to see Tom. Georgia only judged them slightly. Tom was most definitely the newest sweetheart. Curls, chocolate kind eyes, and Georgia supposed he was fit. Besides, a hopeless romantic, or so the girls would say only because he had an accent. Perhaps they all believed he was the next Hugh Grant.

“Perhaps Cap should bring in someone as beautiful, y’know? As bait.”

Georgia rolled her eyes once again. Although it didn’t sound as stupid. And perhaps that’s why Cap had decided to bring in someone as beautiful. Although the new member, Georgia knew, was naive and had a lot to learn, she could perhaps appeal more. And besides their looks, their talent to write, Georgia knew it was most likely to appeal to Paris, the young handsome bartender, the bar’s owner's protege, who could pitch in to have them more often.

But they were losing right now and they both knew it. How they’d manage to convince Princess Skylar to get them the next day was beyond them. Skylar was the bar owner, or at least she presented herself as so. Even though she was just a manager she basically owned the place. She gave out the slots as long as people were buying drinks. And lately the Montagues were bringing in more money.

Montgomery, ‘Monty’ had brought in Tom to be his new lead singer, and they’d been booking the Saturday gigs more often since. Perhaps bringing in a wider female demographic to Verona, buying pretty cocktails. Although, Georgia thought it could be now constructive for them since the male demographic had decreased and they tend to be the ones to drink more beer. Besides, one thing they could rely on was Tom having a girlfriend, so at least the girls would eventually have to give up and go back to the heart wrenching lyrics.

“Is it me or do they sound worse each day?” Wondered Sam as she heard a hard tune. Bea, her enemy, the Montague’s pianist was a fan of only key smashing. “Whenever I listen to them I just need to run to the bathroom and puke.”

“No, I think you should just puke on them,” Georgia said. “I’d be your number one fan.”

Abby, the Montague’s drummer, and Georgia’s number one enemy had overheard. Georgia said her technique lacked enthusiasm. While Abby said Georgia lacked any technique.

Both were wrong.

“Whatcha say?” Abby questioned. “Did y’all come here to learn?”

“Learn?” Sam stood up with her beer. “Learn how not to play, am I right Georgia?”

Sam wasn’t good with comebacks. Georgia pulled her back down.

Abby chuckled. “If you play like that then I won’t worry anymore.”

“Ah,” grinned Georgia raising her own drink, vodka soda. “So you are worried. Gotcha.”

Abby rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe you’re invited here.”

Ben, another member of the Montagues and the reason they had a new lead singer was nearby plugging in his instrument. Not as handsome as the others, people would say, but he was peaceful. “Let them be, Abby. They can be here.”

He often tried to ignore them, he was there for the music and the music only. He thanked Monty for giving him the chance to be there and disregarded the stupid rivalry. He was the bassist, and had become quite popular now that he was acquainted with Tom.

He didn’t like any trouble… unlike Theodora, another member of the Capulets who was with them at the bar but had been quiet enough. It was hilarious how they often were angered by the other’s presence and yet neither tried any other place to hang out.

Theodora searched for the trouble. Perhaps Theodora was the one to hate the most of the Montagues. All of them and especially their newest member. She was the scariest of the Capulets, impulsive and with probably some anger issues. She despised them, and wasn’t afraid to show it.

“Eh, for sure we can be here. It’s a bloody bar. But you could try and kick us out. Don’t be such a pussy, Ben Dover,” Theodora’s first statement was one to make heads turn.

Ben turned to look at her from his bass. “I’d rather not get tired, unlike you I care more about my music.”

“Why does it sound like a bunch of people farting then?” Asked Sam. Again, she wasn’t good at this.

But before he could even respond, Bea, the pianist had already begun the… fight, if you could call it one. Apparently the fart statement had been the one to bother her, funnily enough.

She’d stormed over, yelling and screaming nonsense. Raising her hands and giving them fingers.

Very classy.

Georgia and Sam had stood up to walk over to the stage. Bea had continued a rampage of all the cuss words she could think of and calling them out on their lack of talent and accusing them of coming here only to plagiarize their songs, to which Theodora kindly answered they couldn’t plagiarize a ‘pile of pure shit’ unless they went to the bathroom. Sam had continued with the fart insults.

Ben only stood there watching them and trying and failing to calm them down.

Soon, the other poor customers at the bar were involved in the fight, trying to incentivize the company. Some others were drunk enough to fight with them and others just enjoyed the show.

Billie, ‘Cap’, who had acquired the nickname from quite a young age, by making everyone call her ‘O’ cap’n my cap’n’ after making The Dead Poets Society her entire personality, had walked in along with her girlfriend, Clara. Cap was usually chill. A great leader, a great singer and a great friend. Unless, of course, you betray her. She’d been betrayed by Monty, whom she’d now nicknamed Slap-Dick.

“Christ.” Cap muttered as soon as she saw the scene. Part of her band only raised glasses, fingers and lame insults and she was sure she’d just seen a beer can fly by. “Angel,” she turned sweetly to Clara. “Will you please hold this?” As she handed over her purse.

“What for?” Clara questioned.

“Yes, I might need to throw some hands— oh, how interesting, see who just walked in, the scum himself, Slap-Dick,” she greeted.

Monty, one hand on his girlfriend’s, Maddie, waist, and one hand holding his guitar walked in. Cap scrunched her nose with disgust.

“The fuck are you doin’ here Cap’n Crunch,” Monty snapped. “It’s our gig tonight, please get your vulgar and uncivilized twats out.”

“I’m pretty sure your darling band if we can dare to call it that, was the one to start this,” Cap crossed her arms. Cap knew her own crew was not good at insulting. Although as she eyed Theodora she thought she may have been wrong in her initial statement. Still, she continued. “Your zoo is making all of this noise.”

“Oh! Fuckin—.” Monty laughed but thankfully was interrupted before he could say anything that would make the show even better.

“Stop!” Skylar had yelled, breaking a bottle against the wall as all the lights were turned off and the faint ambiance music stopped playing. She liked drama. “For fuck’s sake, stop!”

Everyone felt the air cold, paused in the middle of the argument. The lights were turned back on, completely, leaving nothing to the imagination. It was chaos, as if a hurricane had hit the entire bar. Theodora was holding Ben by his shirt, Bea was standing on a chair, Sam and Abby just stood in front of each other. The other drunken clients just stood there awkwardly. Standing ever so slightly less elegant.

“I’m so fucking done with this,” Skylar said. “Stop you assholes, this is the third time this month.” She made her way through the tables and snapped her fingers down twice at Bea, motioning for her to get down. “I don’t care about your stupid feud,” she continued as she snatched Theo’s hand off Ben. “ It's so stupid, you’re both terrible bands,” she said as she walked in between Sam and Abby, separating them as both fueled with rage. “If this doesn’t stop,” she said, taking Georgia’s drink now and taking a sip for her. “And I’m talking to you both now,” she turned to watch Cap and Monty. “I’m going to cut you off, deadass. Not one more gig for either. Do you understand?”

Both tried to complain.

“I said, do you understand?” Skylar was firm.

“Yes, princess,” Monty hissed the nickname. Montgomery Williams was exactly the guy you’d think of when you thought of a guy who formed a band and played the lead guitar. His dark hair fell to his eyebrows and his cheeks were sucked in enough for him to be considered handsome. He was often seen with a pair of dark jeans and a new band t-shirt. A cigarette was his trademark accessory. Bulked enough but, not really. And he was often accompanied by his newest pursuit, this time, Maddie, a girl whose clothes were probably bought too tight on purpose.

“Now, Capulets, please give me the pleasure of your kicking you out,” Skylar said

Montgomery smirked.

“No, no, Monty, don’t get your hopes up. They don’t play until tomorrow, so from now on whenever the other band is playing the rivals cannot step in here, otherwise I’ll fuck you up,” Skylar threatened.

“I wanted a beer,” Cap complained earning a deathly glare from Skylar. “Fine, princess!” She took a deep breath. “Caps, let’s go get wasted at my place!” She ordered and her mates followed after.

Skylar had her arms crossed at the entrance as they walked out and the members of the Montagues clapped. She rolled her eyes.

“‘Lright everyone, if anyone causes another disturbance I’ll—“

“Fuck us up,” Monty finished. He clapped his hands and pushed Skylar from her shoulders back to the bar. “Absolutely, no worries, Sky, we’re very civilized and we will give you the best show tonight. We’re classy!”

“Don’t touch me again,” was the last threat she gave before heading back to her office.

Monty gave her a fake smile and then turned to Ben. “The fuck happened?”

Ben made his way back to the stage as he was followed by the rest of the band. “Honestly, Georgia and Sam were just here chilling. Abby overheard them and wanted to snap at them, I tried to calm them down but Theodora, you know Theodora.”

“Insane bitch, yeah.”

“Theodora just snapped and then it’s a blur,” Ben explained.

“Fuckin’—“ Monty pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mkay, well. We can’t let them, you know, get on our nerves, that what they want, they want to get rid of us, no matter what, they don’t even care if they go down with us,” Monty said. “So, uh—yeah, especially now that Tom joined us they’re desperate.”

His band mates only nodded with agreement.

“And— where the hell is he?” Monty frowned, noticing just now that his lead singer was nowhere to be seen. “We play soon, that idiot,” he rubbed his face with stress. Although he loved to pride himself on being better than Cap, he was often found with insecurities because deep down he believed he wasn’t.

Monty was especially scared now that he knew Cap was going to present her secret weapon the very next day. Why they were given a Friday instead of a Saturday was scary for him. Who had they brought in?

Perhaps, the Tom furor was finally gone after a few weeks, considering that although more women were parading in Verona, they would soon be gone as soon as they found out Tom was not available and not willing to flirt with them. Even when Monty had encouraged it, the guy would just politely decline it.

And now, they had the Saturday gig. The most important gig, and although Friday was next in line, he knew that important people showed up on Saturdays. Not Fridays.

Though he didn’t blame it entirely on Tom’s reluctance to flirt. He knew Cap had pulled her cards right. And he knew it had something to do with Skylar. Had anyone slept with her? Or had they given her money? Had their songs penetrated Skylar’s walls?

Either way. They had to have their lead singer show up. He couldn’t hide his anxiety as he approached the microphones, tapping slightly on them to try them.

Ben coughed, watching him.

“Ben?” Monty’s eyes widened. “Where is he?”

“Look, I haven’t heard of him since the morning,” Ben explained.

Monty furrowed his eyebrows.

“He did text me he would be here, but.”

“But what?”

“Him and Rosie broke up so he might not be feeling well, he told me he was devastated. He told me he was getting a drink before.”

Monty heard the news. His lead singer had broken up and was devastated on a Friday night gig. Where they had to sing silly love songs and hard beats. Songs that would be ruined if not sung with the right emotion. Songs that could potentially be ruined if sung drunkenly.

But…

“Are you telling me that…” Monty approached the mic, tapping it to make sure everyone heard him. “Did I hear that right Ben?”

“Monty.” Ben shut his eyes closed.

“Did you just tell me our handsome, British, sweetheart, muscly lead singer is single now?” He questioned with a smirk knowing he’d gotten the attention.

“Monty.”

“Did you just tell me that?” Monty pushed. “Is Tom single?”

Ben shook his head annoyed. “Yes, Monty.”

Monty smirked as he turned to the crowd. “Ladies… and no, actually, just the ladies, you just heard it! Our lead singer is recently single so I will need all of you to give him a warm welcome when he’s here, he’s going to need a lot of love. Will you guys help me with it?”

And for now, he knew, he was back again at the race.

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bestfriend491 · 1 year

Note

F reader grew up with Ramonda and was her absolute best friend, and had the biggest crush on her. But Ramonda was promised to TChaka, and so reader joined the Dora, finally rising through the ranks until she could be Ramondas personal bodyguard. They were still best friends, and one day, after TChaka dies, Ramondas life is threatened, and reader takes a blow in her defense, nearly losing her own. She accidentally confesses her feelings to Ramonda as she lays in the medical center.

I'd do it all over again

Queen Ramonda x Female Reader

Summary: For Ramonda, you'd do anything. Including risk your life.

Word Count: 10.1k+

Angst, Hurt, Comfort.

Warnings: Injuries, Mention of Death of Character (T'Chaka)

Timeline Position: Post Black Panther 1, Pre- Infinity War.

User tags: @starrknessblog @abbyeliza28 @lehlehwrites @greek-freak101 @sweetsummerhaze @ashleyrosetto

“Ramonda; my dearest friend, my heart’s desire. The day I get to hold you in my arms in the way that I truly want, is the day I will be truly fulfilled” - Written by 16-year-old You

The atmosphere that your body had created in the room was unsettling. Your anxiety radiated off of your body and surrounded you along with the area around you. You ate your breakfast, nervous thoughts popping up in your head as you sat contemplating your love confession to Ramonda.

What if she rejected you? Or what if she completely lashed out at you and refused to be your friend anymore? Your fixation on the matter was making you grow more doubtful of the idea, but it was far too late to back down. It had been long enough.

Having known each other since before you were even in pre-school, you and Ramonda were the best of friends. You experienced living and growing up together, and there had never been anything that could break the two of you apart.

For the past 2 years, however, you'd been struggling with your feelings for Ramonda, and how they had changed from platonic feelings to those of romantic interest.

Simple things that used to be normal between the two of you, felt completely different. When the two of you would be gazing up at the stars at night right by the river, and she would lay her head on top of your chest, your heart would instantly start racing, and your whole body would go rigid, you face rushing with blood, embarrassing your even though she couldn't see it.

You knew after the 6 month mark that it wasn't a phase. You were in love with your best friend and you had no clue what to do about it. It was exactly like the age-old television drama scenario. And now you had to question; would she like you back or would you lose your best friend because she didn't feel the same way. The latter option kept repeating in your head.

The likelihood of her feeling the way you did felt slim to you, and you had little hope that your love was requited. But you'd been simmering on these feelings more desperately for a year, and they weren't going away.

As you sat at the table, you couldn't help but feel like it was time. Maybe the day out with her would be relaxing and you would find the strength within you to tell her about your feelings and it would actually work out.

It was risky, and your stomach dropping at the idea of it all didn't give you much reassurance, but you were going to do it. Just as you were finishing, your father walked into the kitchen, greeting you.

"Y/n, I need you to take these with you when you go to see Ramonda today. Her mother has requested them." He said, handing you a basket full of fabric.

You nodded, questioning why Ramonda's mother would need dress fabric when she didn't sew and more importantly, why your father had the fabrics in the first place.

Regardless of those questions, you took it with you as you went to her house. It wasn't very far away, so you were there in less than 10 minutes. You didn't knock on the door before entering, not even being afraid of getting into trouble with Ramonda's mother for it again.

Lumumba was scary when she was upset and she yelled at you many times for not knocking when entering her home, but she loved you like her own daughter so her lectures often flew over your head.

"Molweni, nonke (Hello, everyone)." You said happily as you entered the home, being graced with the presence of the entire family at the table except Ramonda.

"Molo, Y/n. (Hello, Y/n)." They all said in unison.

You put the basket down next to you, settling down next to them in your designated seat.

"Are those from your father?" Lumumba asked. Your nod confirmed her suspicions.

"Tell him thank you." She said, You nodded once again.

After a few minutes of silence, you asked. "Where's Ramonda?"

"She's out right now but she should be back before the afternoon. You can stay in her room while you wait." That was strange to you, because your best friend wasn't one to be out and about so early. You and her were more night owls than anything else.

You stood up and went into her room, sitting on her bed as you waited. It was her voice that woke you up. She shook you and you opened your eyes, smiling as you looked at her beautiful face.

"How long have you been here?" She asked.

"Since the late morning."

You looked at her in full focus now, and she was fully dressed up, like she had just come back from a special event. You looked her up and down a few times, then you made eye contact again.

She looked at herself for a moment, realising what you were looking at, "I'll explain later. Let's go."

And with that you both left her home.

The day was supposed to be fairly uneventful. You were going to your usual hideout in the mountains and would stay up there until the night came.

The mountain had been where you went for a break since you were kids. When the two of you were around ten, you had run away together. Like most kids, you didn't last very long before returning home, but you'd made it to the mountains that hid the real Wakanda from the world, just outside of Jabari Land.

For the 8 years following that, you had built and renovated a small house-like cave in one mountain and it had become your place together. It grew with you, your style and interests changing over the years. At the beginning, it was a cluttered mess of your toys and games; the walls decorated in posters on top of posters.

Now it was much more mature. There were two chairs that laid in the centre of the cave, while the natural hooks on the walls of the cave were used as shelves, storing the things you used regularly there. The walls were also a lot more bare. The placement of the chairs was perfect for looking out into the sky and land view, and that's what you did most of the time. It was a place where the two of you could escape.

The walk there this time was tense, your mutual silence being anything but comfortable. You could feel that Ramonda had something to tell you, and you were more sure than not that it had something to do with her earlier attire. But you didn't bring it up, choosing to take the rest of the voyage up the mountain in more silence.

When you reached your destination, Ramonda let out a relieved sigh, sitting in your seat just to annoy you. Usually, you would have said something sparky about her doing so, but you were so caught up in your own thoughts about your pending confession that you just turned and took her seat with a smile.

The two of you remained quiet for some time. Ramonda fiddled with your fingers while you looked out into the sky, hoping for her to start the conversation.

"I need to tell you something." She finally said.

"Okay."

She paused again. Hesitant to continue. You nodded your head, encouraging her to go on.

She breathed in, "I was with the royal family this morning."

"For political reasons?"

"In a sense, yes. But not completely." She explained. You looked away from the view, looking directly at her.

She was nervous, her mouth twitching as a result. "The prince and I had our first official private meeting. It is going to be the first of many, Y/n."

You hadn't caught onto what she was trying to say yet, you head searching for answers but not finding any.

"I've been promised to him, Y/n." She said, finally making you frown in realisation.

"As in a forced marriage." You stated more than asked.

She shook her head, hesitating once more. "I have agreed to start courting him now, but in a few years, when we are a little bit older, we will marry. It's more arranged than forced."

Your eyes grew wide and your body became stiff and still as it all settled in. Your Ramonda was going to be the future Queen of Wakanda. That was amazing. But she would be married to T'Chaka. And she'd leave the River Tribe and join the Golden Tribe.

"Y/n. Do you have something to say?"

Now it was you who shook your head.

"I just told you that I am going to be marrying the future king in a few years. You have nothing to say to that."

"No."

Your eyes grew glossy, and all you could do was pray to Bast that she couldn't see your clear heartbreak. Wiping your nose from instinct, "No, I'm happy for you, Ramonda."

She scoffed, knowing how you only wiped your nose when you were lying, "It doesn't look like it."

You tried again. "No, really I am." You laughed through the pain. "I always knew you'd be the queen of something. Who knew it would be the whole country."

She was still sceptical, but her tone grew softer and she chopped your previous emotion to the shock pf it all.

"Should I start calling you, my queen?" You joked.

"Let's not rush into titles." She smiled.

Hours Later ...

You slammed the door shut, entering your home again in a frustrated and manic state. You weren't sure who was home, but it was late enough for you to presume that everyone was in bed already.

The tears from previously came up again, and your throat tightened. Out of all of the outcomes that you had predicted, another person blocking you from confessing your feelings had never even come into the equation. You felt completely blindsided.

What angered you was her keeping it secret for so long. If their supposed courting was arranged from a promise, then she must have known about it for at least 6 months, if not a year or two. Her family wouldn't hide something like that from her.

Clearly all of them were willing to lie to you though.

You were caught up in your love for a year and she had been lying to you the whole time. This wouldn't have even mattered had you not already fallen. But you had fallen. Hard.

Now she would eventually move far away from the River Village, all the way to the palace where you probably wouldn't be able to see her much without travelling a whole distance.

Every attempt to stop the tears only made them worse and before you knew it the sound of your breakdown was echoing throughout your house walls, holding the potential to wake anyone up. Footsteps echoed towards you and you cursed internally for the noise you had created.

"Y/n?" Came your father's voice. His large figure appearing in your vision.

He wore the same pair of tacky pyjamas that you had gotten him for fathers day as a child, something he cherished entirely too much.

His work as a War Dog gave him an intimidating physique, but he was soft in personality. It was a strange sight to many, but to you it was just the man that raised you being himself.

He got to you and wrapped himself around you, embracing you in a comforting hug as you let your emotions run wild. You muttered curses and a few vulgar things in all the languages you knew, some that even your father couldn’t translate. You let your eyes go blood red from the tears.

You stayed standing in that hug until your tears had subsided, only then did you shift yourselves to your bedroom, where you sat on the edge of your bed side by side as you leaned against him.

“We don’t have to talk, but if you need anything, Y/n. Tell me.” he said. It was something he said whenever you cried. Your only job in his eyes was to tell him what you needed and it would be done.

Barely giving yourself time to think your request through, "Father, I need you to train me so that I can become a Dora." You said after settling down.

"You've never taken interest in being a part of the Dora Milaje. What brings this new interest?"

You looked away now, not wanting to admit to the spur of the moment idea that you had only just decided on seconds before.

He was right, you had never taken interest in becoming a part of the Adored Ones, and many people had asked you about it. You were built quite strong already, regularly working out with your father for most of your life giving you the gift of a great body.

The Captain, who trained new Doras had asked you to become one when you were 16 on numerous occasions but you had declined.

However, now that Ramonda was going to be a Royal family member, there was actually someone you cared to protect there. You liked T'Chaka and his family, but Ramonda was a much more rewarding person to protect.

You gave your father a shortened version of this explanation.

"Things have changed, Baba. Are you willing to help me?"

"Anything for my daughter." He responded, giving you his signature smile of assurance .

You mirrored that smile, being grateful for his constant blind support.

"Thank you, Baba."

He sighed, allowing you to get into bed, clothes and jewellery still on and all, while he went back to sleep. You went to bed with a completely new life plan, not having a clue what you were going to do about your feelings, but at least knowing that you would be staying close to Ramonda.

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Ramonda could feel the shift in your character that day. How you had grown more hostile towards her, even if only subtly. How you were less comfortable sharing physical contact with her in any form.

Hand holding was a staple to your friendship for years, and that day you hadn't put out your hand for her to take like usual. Regret started to fill her body when she realised that her initial plan to ease you into the situation slowly had failed completely.

Why had she waited so long?

She couldn't even answer that question.

For a while she thought it was because the event wasn't that major, so there was no need to tell you yet. But, after the day had ended, she knew that that was far from the reason. Becoming the prince's wife was going to be a big event. And she knew that.

Sitting down to ponder on her decisions, she couldn't help but start to feel like there was an emotional barrier that had prevented her from telling you. The problem was that she wasn't sure what the emotions were.

Your friendship felt like something close, like something more than just a friendship, but the denial was so deeply sewn in, Ramonda refused to acknowledge it.

Others who saw the two of you would call it a sisterhood, but you and her constantly felt weird when people called it that. It didn't feel like you were family. At least, not in the way that others thought it looked.

Of course you had been the only one to delve deeper into your dynamic and realise that the friendship had more of a romantic resemblance than a familial one.

Ramonda had yet to pick apart the way that the two of you behaved around each other. That is why she hadn't fought very hard when her mother informed her that she was to wed the future king.

She had happily gotten into her best clothing and gone to the palace to meet T'Chaka and his family more formally. The teens already knew each other, from their families having close relations, but there was always an official meeting that needed to take place in these situations.

T'Chaka was kind, and charming and he seemed to actually care about making Ramonda comfortable, which made her feel like the situation was perfect for her. She wasn't going to lie and say that she didn't feel a spark with him. There was definitely chemistry there.

But the memories of the nice morning meeting soured when the rest of the day's encounters didn't go as sweetly.

Ramoda struggled to sleep that night, not sure why she was even truly conflicted.

Her beads buzzed the next day, and she tiredly checked what it was.

It was a message from you: Meet me at the mountain.

She didn't take a second glance, getting ready and leaving her home in the early morning.

Dawn had barely arrived when she got to your spot, and she was still a bit sluggish. Ramonda was really not a morning person, and you knew that, but you couldn't wait to tell her your news.

You exchanged pleasantries, and she sat in her chair, waiting for you to define what was on today's agenda.

"I made a decision yesterday." You said, rubbing your hands together awkwardly. Once you noticed your nervous habit creeping in you made your hands into temporary fists, before releasing them and taking a deep breath to reset.

Ramonda didn't say anything, just waiting for you to continue.

"My father is going to help me train and I'm going to become a Dora."

Ramonda raised an eyebrow, "Why can't you just train with the regular trainees? Why are you also going to train with your father?"

Luckily you were prepared for that question.

"I want to be the best at it. Maybe climb a few ranks by the time we're 25." You explained.

She nodded in understanding. Even though she didn't understand the sudden desire to be a part of the Dora Milaje, she didn't ask you about it.

"That will be nice. We'll both be at the palace." She smiled as she woke up more, and you talked about the possibilities.

"I can see it right now. Y/n, General of the Dora Milaje." She continued, causing you to let out a stiff chuckle.

"And everyday I'll greet you by saying, My Queen." You brought out the nickname again.

She rolled her eyes but did not argue, "and I'll call you, My warrior."

Your heart fluttered at that. You liked that name, especially when it came out of her mouth.

The two of you continued on that route and yesterday's bad news seemed a lot less sad by the end of it. You knew that your feelings were going to affect you, but you just wanted to take it one problem at a time.

For the years that came after that, you did exactly what you had set out to do.

You trained heavily with both the Dora Milaje and your father, and in less than a few months, you were a part of the Dora Milaje. Your training intensified as time went on, and your dedication to the job was heavily praised and acknowledged by both the royal family, and your fellow sisters.

You moved to the Golden City 6 months after that, the voyage from the River Village to the Palace being far too large for you to take everyday. You said your goodbyes on an emotional day, thanking your father for his help, while tears flooded both of your faces.

You promised to visit once a week and although your family insisted that that was too much and would put a strain on you, you kept that promise. You went to stay the night every Friday after work and you'd leave in the middle of the next Saturday, going back to work once again.

Ramonda moved into the Palace a year later, and the engagement between her and T'Chaka was announced. You struggled to but forced yourself to go to the engagement celebration, meeting T'Chaka as Ramonda's best friend, though the two of you had been working together for 4 months at that point.

You grew a slow liking for him. Seeing how well he treated her, and how happy she was.

He respected your close relationship with her and never interfered in it, which you appreciated.

Ramonda and you stayed just as close, and you were right beside her on the day of her wedding, wearing your best dress as you handed her to the one she truly loved. You left early that day, claiming that you didn't feel well. Which you didn't. You ran home that day. Confiding in your father as he comforted you.

"Let it out, my child." He said as you cried that night. And you did exactly that.

You stayed there for the week, needing to be with your Tribe, even though you were technically now part of the Golden Tribe. The River was your true home, and nothing would change that.

Returning the next week, you put in all of your energy into your work as an Adored One. You became the Captain in the 3 months following that. And less than a year later, you were the general. You became the youngest general in recent history, leading the group at the ripe age of 21.

T'Chaka became the Black Panther only a few years after that, and the title of King didn't come very long after that.

The two of you grew closer, more for Ramonda's sake than anything, but you did create a friendship of your own. You worked well together and the two of you ended up having a brother-sister kind of relationship. You were similar in that you were both sometimes quite reckless at work sometimes.

Ramonda would reprimand the both of you for taking unnecessary risks on missions but you never seemed to stop.

"It's like the two of you are on a constant mission of risking your lives everytime you leave." She would huff as she fixed either of your wounds. Her words never stopped you though, as you were so high on your title and obligations.

The high of it all only got to you again when Ramonda announced that she was pregnant.

Your reaction was better than at the wedding, as you stayed there the entire time, only retreating to the River Village on your regular Friday afternoon.

You kept your sorrow inside the entire time, only showing love and support to the couple.

At the time, your father was used to you crumbling into yourself whenever you came over, so he was ready.

You took only the night though, and you were soon back in the palace celebrating the news like everyone else.

The thought of becoming a war dog, just to be away from it all, crossed your mind a lot but you chose to just stick it out.

When Prince T'Challa was born you couldn't help but love him. He looked just like Ramonda to you and you loved being around him.

Watching Ramonda and T'Chaka raise him brought you a lot of joy, though you knew that it would never be you there.

You acted like a second mother to him, and he treated you as such but as he grew older, the questions about your lack of a romantic companion or your own children became more frequent.

"Ma," He would call you, "Why don't you have any kids?"

You would play with his hair and tickle him as you answered. "You are the only child I need right now." And he wouldn't ask much for a while after that.

The one thing noticed by all though was your need to be the greatest had heightened. All you did when you weren't with T'Challa and Ramonda was train.

If you weren't hurting yourself trying to prove yourself on a mission, you were hurting yourself trying to prove yourself in training.

Ramonda would yell at you and complain whenever she saw a new unhealed wound on you, but your behaviour never changed.

After almost 2 decades being the General, your commitment was recognized with many awards and you were also assigned a much less tasking job. You were to be Ramonda's personal guard, and you were to be with her at all times, to protect her.

Conveniently enough, this was when she became pregnant with her second child, so it was perfect timing. T'Challa was grown up, and his training had started. You were still a mentor to him, and you regularly trained not only him, but the new Dora Milaje trainees.

You were a legend then, to say the least. Your life journey fighting to protect the royal family being plastered everywhere.

By the time Princess Shuri was born, you were more than confident that you'd fulfilled what you had to.

You didn't need a spouse, or kids of your own. You had plenty of family, all around you. And although your feelings never truly went away. You were content with what your life had given you.

2 years post T'Chaka's death

You and Ramonda walked into the American conference room, looking around to see the growing number of representatives arriving for yet another conference where Wakanda's vibranium was to be a topic of conversation.

T'Challa, being not only king, but the Black Panther, couldn't make it to this meeting, and Ramonda was quick to dismiss his worries of missing the event and offered her help by taking his place and reporting what happened back to him when she was done.

You, her bodyguard, were obligated to be there, for her protection.

Even though Ramonda was adamant that it was safe enough at a meeting like this, you stayed close by her, feeling wary and suspicious of everyone who approached.

There just seemed to be something off about the whole thing. How they called this meeting when Wakanda had been operating very well with protocol.

You had been just as reluctant to share the truth about Wakanda's true power, your head siding more with T'Chaka's reasoning behind keeping it safe. But, T'Challa was so convinced that this was the way that things needed to go, and your heart supported him fully, so you didn't argue but rather just helped him as much as you could.

You travelled to new outreach centres regularly when your duties for Ramonda were less necessary or when she insisted you leave her to be alone.

You gave T’Challa advice when he asked for it and you kept your mouth shut when your opinions weren't needed. But now, it just felt like some parts of the world were getting greedy, and the more Wakanda gave to them, the more they asked for.

This is why you stood so rigid, your spear in close proximity to your hands just in case anything happened. You scanned the room as Ramonda exchanged pleasantries with the representatives of the other countries.

Most of them you had seen before, and some of their assistants and guards even looked familiar, but there were a few new faces around.

Just as the meeting was about to begin, you spotted a suspicious woman hovering by the door. She looked extremely familiar to you, but you couldn't decipher the reason why. You knew that you'd never seen her specifically before.

You glared at her as people spoke, and Ramonda looked at you with a worried expression for the majority of the meeting but it was only when the meeting came to a halftime break when you said something.

"Do you see that woman there?" You pointed at the woman as discreetly as possible. Ramonda nodded.

"She has been hovering by that door since we arrived. She's not with a representative, that's one thing I know." You said.

"What are you insinuating?"

You became stumped again. You weren't really sure what you were insinuating.

If you were to outwardly declare that the woman was a threat, without having even spoken to her, you could just be accusing an innocent bystander of being a major threat. That wouldn't be fair to her. Mostly because she had yet to actually do anything besides hover.

On the other hand though, you had a bad hunch about her, and your hunches were never wrong.

Seeing that you couldn't answer her question, Ramonda sighed and directed you to look at her.

"Look, My warrior. I get that your Dora senses are creeping in but I'll tell you if I need your protection."

You nodded begrudgingly, silently lying so you could keep eyeing the woman out.

When the meeting commenced, you couldn't help but keep looking at that woman.

Something was strange about her. The bag she was carrying looked heavy. Abnormally heavy.

"Y/n." Ramonda whispered. "Stop staring."

You averted your gaze for a few seconds, deciding to look more around her than at her.

Something wasn't adding up. You squinted, looking closer to see that she had something small in her unoccupied hand.

Ramonda let out a fake cough to get your attention again. You looked her way for only a brief second, dismissing her with your hand as you looked more at the bag.

There was a wire coming out of the bag, and the wire led to the wall, where it was attached to more split wires that ran up the walls.

They were almost invisible, but you could tell that there was a lot of them.

What in Bast's name was this woman plotting?

You turned your gaze back to her, examining her face again. Then it hit you.

She looked exactly like Ulysses Klaue, the one that Erik had killed two years ago. They were almost identical, down to the same look of revenge.

"Ramonda. Get down." You commanded, taking your spear out. Ramonda looked at you confused. "Ramonda, I said GET DOWN!"

"What's happening?!" Asked a representative on the left, looking at you making a scene.

4 seconds passed before an explosion happened. Every inch of the room lit on fire.

Screaming followed as everyone was knocked onto the ground with great impact.

You hit your head hard, and your vision became blurry as you looked for her. Where was your Queen?

"Ramonda!" You yelled, looking around for her.

"RAMONDA!"

Successfully finding your spear, you stood up onto the unstable podium to search for her. People were fleeing, and your ears were useless. Your vision cleared up slightly, and your eyes landed on the woman.

Her hands reached down for the bag, and she took out a machine that you could tell almost instantly was made of vibranium.

Her aim was towards the left. Towards Ramonda.

Ramonda was getting up, looking around in a daze and she wasn't fully aware of what was going on. Before you could think, you jumped down towards the woman, running your spear towards her.

As you jumped and lodged your spear straight through her chest, you felt the impact of three sharp shots coming, straight through you, followed by a final shot that left you on the floor, unconscious.

"Y/N!" Ramonda screamed out as she saw you get shot and impaled 4 times.

She rushed to your side, stumbling over the broken objects that laid on the floor. When she reached you, she nearly collapsed seeing you.

Your body was severely hurt, the vibranium from the weapon causing a lot of damage.

Ramonda's mind went blank, and she didn't remember much of what happened next.

She remembered screaming for help, and pressing her beads to get someone to get a quinjet to the two of you.

The next thing she knew, T'Challa was there in a Black Panther suit, and Okoye was ripping your spear out of the woman's chest.

She came back to reality when T'Challa lifted you into his arms screaming, "We have to get her to Shuri!"

She followed quickly, and the ride back to Wakanda was longer than any cross trip had ever felt. It wasn't actually that long, as the quinjets speed was far more advanced than any other aircraft on Earth.

Shuri was prepared as soon as your body arrived, having a group of Wakanda's best doctors there with her.

You were taken to the lab, and while Ramonda herself needed to be examined, she was fighting everyone in her way to get to you.

"She is losing too much blood, Shuri!" Ramonda yelled as Dora Milaje tried to constrain her to stay away from you.

She was stressing the young girl out. And her statement only made things worse. Now Shuri paid attention to the blood on her hands, and how much of it was coming out.

"Mother, you must let them help her without interfering!" T'Challa spoke, trying to get Ramonda to calm down.

"I AM NOT LEAVING HER!"

"You have to Mother!" He yelled.

Shuri looked at your mother in shock, having never seen her yell like that.

The sound of your heart rate dropping to zero is what got the attention back on you.

"She's going into Cardiac Arrest!" Shuri panicked, looking at your dying body.

She immediately started CPR. Trying to get oxygen back into your body. After using both your beads for shock waves and her arms for chest compressions and still not results, she became worried. Tears filled her eyes and she tried to revive your lifeless body.

Ramonda was finally taken outside, fighting off both Okoye and the 3 others that it took to take her to just outside the lab.

"NOOOOOO!" She screamed, kicking and fighting with all of her might, until she finally collapsed on the floor.

The Dora wrapped her in a tight;y gripped hold on the floor, mostly to stop her from getting up but also to get her to calm down.

Her voice grew raw as she yelled out your name.

"Let me GO!" She directed the demand towards Okoye, who she knew would relent to her command easier than the others.

"My Queen, Please. We can not risk you going back there."

"I won't! Just let me go!" Ramonda cried out.

Ramonda felt the words tear through her like a knife. Slowly letting go of the queen, Okoye commanded the others to do the same.

Ramonda laid on the floor, praying that you weren't with the ancestors yet. That you were still with her.

She couldn't handle your death right now. Or ever. You were everything to her. You were a part of her, and if you were gone, so was a large part of her. She listened for the noises coming from the lab, though the sound proofing feature made it impossible.

In the lab, your heart had started beating again, and Shuri was now working on your wounds.

Her mother's pleads rang through her head.

"She's losing too much blood, Shuri!"

"Mother. She is alive." Shuri struggled to look down at her mother's broken figure on the outside of the lab.

Ramonda looked up, eyes red and still crying.

What Shuri had expected was a sigh of relief, but instead Ramonda broke down even more.

"Mother, we saved her. She is alive." Shuri repeated, thinking that maybe she hadn't heard right.

"You barely saved her." Ramonda spat out, still furious that both Shuri and T'Challa had allowed the Dora Milaje to take her away.

It wasn't an appropriate reaction by any means, but it was the only thing Ramonda felt. Anger.

"She could have died because of you." She said next, just saying things to hurt her.

"What?" Shuri's previously hopeful eyes watered at those words. She had just witnessed the most horrifying sight. Her second mother was basically dead. And she had to be the one to save her. And her mother was blaming her.

She stepped back, going further back into the lab.

Okoye, who had heard it all from behind the door, followed a crying Shuri to a corner in the lab where nobody would see them.

"She didn't mean that." Okoye insisted. She offered herself to Shuri, allowing her to come in for a hug. Shuri took the offer, wrapping Okoye in a tight and anxious hug, even with all of the blood still on her.

"Because of me?" Shuri said, prompting Okoye to shake her head. "Shuri. She is in pain. She didn't mean it."

Shuri tried to nod, tried to agree with Okoye and reassure herself that her mother hadn't meant those words. But it didn't work, the tears doubling as yet another sentence went through her head.

"Give her a moment, Shuri." Tears were in Okoye's eyes too. Seeing Shuri emotional and seeing your blood on her triggered the emotions up.

You and her had a close bond too. You had trained her to become General when your reign was over, truly believing in her capabilities. You had basically taught her everything that she had used to her the position, older techniques that were never taught in training.

Seeing you in your state was shocking to her too.

"She's going to be fine, " she assured herself, while Shuri nodded, letting go of her after some time.

Your body was relocated to Intensive Care once you were stitched and wrapped, Shuri staying with you to settle you in.

Thanks to Wakandan technology, you'd be awake in a matter of hours, but your pain levels were something Shuri anticipated would be excruciating, being hit with vibranium being very different than with a regular weapon.

Ramonda entered the room as Shuri was pondering, slowly approaching your bed while completely ignoring Shuri.

Shuri stood, going to leave.

"Mother, I-"

"-Shuri, please." Ramonda's face was fragile and her emotions were close to overflowing again. Her daughter's words could wait.

Shuri took that and left the room, not before hearing, "Tell the guards to leave."

The two Dora that had stood by the door, exchanged glances, before going with Shuri, not wanting to cross the former Queen after seeing her blow up.

10 Hours after the event …

The first thing you felt when your body allowed you to become conscious again was fire. Every muscle in your body felt like it was on fire, the burning sensation reaching parts of your body that you had yet to discover before. You felt every organ in you working to keep you alive. Your heart was pounding trying to get blood throughout your body, extreme chest pain that felt like it was killing you being an effect of this.

You let out a loud scream that pierced through the ears of anybody that was in the room with you. Your eyes shot open but you couldn't move beyond that, your body feeling like a kettle boiling your insides.

You looked around to see that you were in the palace infirmary. The intensive care section; you could tell by the sign that hung by the door.

Tears slipped out of your eyes and were quickly streaming down from the pain that you were in.

"Y/n…" Came Ramonda's voice as she appeared seemingly out of nowhere and wiped your tears, trying to calm you down. There was a heavy relief in your mind when it finally registered to you.

She was alive and okay. You thanked Bast as that was all that you could wish for. For her to be safe and for your pain to be worth something.

That wasn't to say that you were content with the amount of pain you were in. Out of all of your years being a Dora, even the worst injuries had not hurt this much. This was a different type of pain. One that reminded you of death even though you'd never died before.

"My warrior, breathe for me." She said, offering her hand for you to take. It took everything in you to but you took her hand in yours and used it to balance the pain. Ramonda easily tolerated the intense squeezing of her hand, feeling that it was the least that she could do.

Trying your best to breathe as the tears still streamed down, a knock came at the door.

Ramonda turned, conflicted. Not wanting to leave your side as you were in your own world from this pain but also not wanting to welcome people in to see you like this unless absolutely necessary. After weighing her options, she reluctantly decided to let the knocker in.

"Come in." She declared, and the door opened to Shuri entering the room with a vile of a pink liquid.

"Mother, the pain reliever is finished. She needs to drink some of this for temporary relief." Shuri hesitantly walked toward her mother and handed her the vile, sparing a glimpse at your tranced state. The day had been one of new experiences for the child, not only seeing you, her 3rd parent nearly die in her hands on the operating table, but also seeing her mother's reaction to your near death.

She was no stranger to the close bond that you and her mother shared but seeing the way Ramonda so quickly crumbled into herself, losing it on everyone around as your heart rate quickly dropped. It was a sight that even Shuri was not prepared to see. Her mother hitting rock bottom.

Ramonda gave her daughter a look, one that asked for privacy, knowing that she would only be able to talk to her daughter about the day's events when you were peacefully asleep.

Shuri got the message, slowly shifting to leave, before walking out of the door.

Alone again, Ramonda turned to you, who was squeezing her hand only moderately less. Your eyes were closed again, as your breathing required all of your energy.

"Y/n, you need to drink this. Your heart is under a lot of strain and it could lead to cardiac arrest again." She croaked out through the tears that you only now realised were on her face.

'Cardiac Arrest Again?' You thought.

The injury to your body was worse than you thought. You couldn't imagine being that close to death. But you did feel like your heart had stopped for a while, and was now struggling to catch up.

But the liquid in the vile looked anything but pleasant, and you weren't one for putting concoctions in your body. You couldn't help but question whether you were willing to ingest it.

"Y/n, Please!" her voice brought you back to reality, her pleads for you to drink the concoction breaking your already weak heart.

You slowly opened your mouth and allowed her to pour some of the liquid in your mouth, swallowing to taste the worst thing you had ever tasted in your life. If it hadn't brought you almost instant relief, you would have passed out from the added nausea along with the burning pain.

Your face relaxed, letting Ramonda know that it was working. She breathed out a heavy sigh, sitting down next to you as your grip loosened. The two of you sat there for several minutes while you waited to see how much relief the pain reliever could give you.

Ramonda soaked in your alive presence, refusing to let go of it now that she had seen it when it was not alive. The both of you pondered to yourselves, thinking of what you could say to each other after such a major event.

When you could tell that your pain relief had peaked, with most of your fiery pain being reduced to aches, you opened your eyes and you cleared your throat.

"Are you okay, My Queen?" You groaned, your voice extremely hoarse.

Your best friend looked at you with eyes of complete disbelief. "Am I okay? No. I just witnessed your heart stop and nearly not start again." She blurted out, a bit agitated that you would even ask that. Seeing you flinch at her words she sighed out an apology.

"What I meant to say is that your question is irrelevant, Y/n. My wellbeing means nothing right now. " She insisted.

You shook your head, "Your state of being does not mean nothing, Ramonda."

"This is no time for compliments, Y/n. What you did was reckless and nearly killed you. You're what matters right now."

"Doing my job was reckless? You've never been one to judge someone for simply doing their job." You stated, not wanting to argue with her but also getting more and more annoyed with her being upset with you for protecting her.

"You did your job as my bodyguard, yes. But what about your job as my closest companion? You're itching to save me would have meant nothing if you had died!" Her voice increased in volume, the tension in the room building quickly.

"WHY would you even do that, Y/N!" She yelled now, and it all just bubbled over.

You lost all sense and the words that you'd so deeply wanted to declare for the last several decades finally came out.

"Because I love you, okay! I love you! THAT'S WHY I DID IT!” You argued back at her, which surprised her considering your state. She was so caught up in that, she almost missed your declaration.

"You love me?" She said, requesting for you to explain yourself. You stayed silent, refusing to repeat nor expand on the words that had slipped out completely accidentally.

You could feel your heart racing, and Ramonda saw the distress in your face. She squeezed your hand to tell you to breathe; and you did.

"Forget it." You huffed, trying to move to face away from her but failing miserably.

After a few calm breaths, "Just don't say that your wellbeing means nothing. Not as I sit in this condition because I wanted to do everything to save it." You changed the course of the conversation almost instantly. Ramonda, although wanting so desperately for you not to, understood why it felt that you had to.

"I'm sorry for saying that. It was an inconsiderate thing to say, after…" She couldn't even bring herself to finish her words.

You looked deeply into her eyes, moving your free hand to sit on top of your interlocked ones. Immediately, tears developed and fell, both of you crying silently.

15 hours after the event

Shuri sat in the laboratory, still shaking from seeing what she had. It was a lot for an 18 year old to handle.

T'Challa sat next to her, less shaken physically, but mentally his head was in the clouds.

"How did she look?" He asked his sister, as he had left shortly once you were confirmed as alive, needing to get back to America to finish looking at everything before false information spread. He had fought off reporters for hours, answering questions that lacked actual importance. He had come back as soon as possible and had been sitting there for an hour.

"Not great. But I barely saw her properly anyway, Mother was all I could focus on. Her beads indicate that she is fine now, though." Shuri replied, looking off into the distance.

After much debate with herself, Shuri finally brought herself to ask her brother some very important questions.

"T'Challa, have you ever seen Mother like that before?"

The king nodded his head, immediately. "With Ma? Definitely."

"Never with Father?" Shuri continued. She wasn't sure why she was even asking, already sure of the answer she was going to receive.

"She would be worried sick when Baba came home hurt, but it never compared to when Aunt Y/n would come back hurt." T'Challa explained, reflecting back on the times when you or his father would be severely injured, and how differently she would react to each of you.

"When Baba came back hurt, she would stay strong for us and the country, and then when she knew he was okay, she would fall into herself for a few hours, and then stand strong once again." He spoke to his sister, and Shuri listened, knowing that he had more experience seeing these instances than her.

"When Ma would come back hurt…" he shook his head at the memories ",she would fall apart first, then stay that way for a while even after she knew that she was okay. Mother has never been able to stay strong when it comes to Ma."

"Why is that?" Shuri asked another question. T'Challa wasn't used to this, Shuri usually being far smarter and more knowledgeable in the things they talked about.

He thought for a second.

"Mother loved Baba. Her struggle with his death has shown us that, but there has always been more than that with Aunt Y/n. Something much stronger."

"It is almost like they are one person, and when Aunt Y/n is hurt, it feels to Mother that she is hurt as well." He explained more to himself than to you.

"Is it because of romantic feelings?" Shuri asked finally.

"That, I can not answer. Only mother could tell you that, Shuri." With that, T'Challa stood up, knowing that he needed to go and continue his duties as King.

He left the princess with one last statement.

"Mother will be fine, Shuri. She just needs time and our support."

Shuri nodded in understanding.

Watching her brother enter the elevator to exit the lab, she rose from her position, resuming her monitoring of your heart rate.

There was nobody else in there, as she had dismissed all work for the day when your body had arrived, so it was completely silent besides the ambient sounds that the working machines released. The atmosphere resembled that of when she was working through the night and someone would have to come in there to tell her that it was far past an appropriate hour, and she needed to go to her headquarters to sleep.

"Griot, where is my mother?" Shuri asked the AI.

"Queen Ramonda is located in the 1st intensive care ward in the infirmary with Y/n, Princess." The voice replied.

Shuri nodded, having figured that her mother wouldn't have moved much since she had left.

Deciding to listen to her brother and offer her struggling mother some support, she kept the screen monitoring your status up, but moved on to leave the lab as well, to go and offer a helping hand.

Ramonda looked at you as you slept, your hands still interlaced. Your tears had gradually stopped an hour ago, and you'd been asleep for almost that long.

She analysed your sleeping state. She could tell by the scrunch in your face that the pain was returning, and she knew that you'd be back to your burning state soon, so she decided that it was time for her to quickly leave and retrieve some of your and her necessities, because it was going to be a long couple of nights.

Just as she was opening the door to leave, seeing that the guards had listened and not stayed stationed outside of the room, she saw Shuri approaching with a large tray in her hands.

Shuri looked up, surprised that her mother had even opened the door, yet alone went out of the room.

"Mother!" She said, "I was just coming to offer you some food. Ma’s vitals seemed strong in the lab so I assumed that you would be relaxed enough to eat something by now."

Ramonda looked lovingly at her daughter, looking down at the tray once again.

"I didn't cook it, Mother." Shuri finally let out, causing Ramonda to laugh at her daughter's self-deprecating statement.

"Thank Bast for that." Ramonda joked, receiving a dramatic gasp in return accompanied with a relieved smile.

"I was just going to retrieve a few things from my chambers for the night." Ramonda explained, reluctant to say much more.

"I can do that, Mother." Shuri offered.

Her mother shook her head, "No need for that, my child. I was also going to pass by Y/n's headquarters to retrieve a few of her things upon my return"

"I can do that too, Mother. Just tell me what you need." Shuri offered once more. Seeing the look on Ramonda's face, she offered her own expression of reassurance.

"Mother… I am here to help, nothing more. I understand your reaction from earlier. I might have been the same way had I had the history that you and Aunt Y/n have. Go be with her. I'll get everything."

Ramonda nodded, finally listing all of the things she was going to retrieve, also making sure to clarify where everything was located.

"Shuri." Ramonda said, with the tray now in her hands, her body headed in the direction of your room again.

"Yes mother."

"Thank you… and… I'm sorry for taking my emotions out on you, earlier. That was not right."

Shuri smiled an accepting smile and went on her way, Ramonda doing the same.

As she entered your room, you were shifting more than before, which gave her a bit more peace of mind, knowing that this too would pass.

She just hoped that when it did, you wouldn't take back the words that you had said. And if you didn't, she hoped that you also meant to say them in the way that she interpreted them.

Her feelings were as mixed as the first day she had just spent with T'Chaka before they started courting. Only this time around, she knew a lot more about what she really wanted.

Three weeks later

A knock came at your door and you already knew who it was.

"Come in."

Ramonda walked in, wearing her much more casual attire. She hadn't worn anything formal since the event that had taken place all those weeks ago.

She gave you a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, another thing that you hated about being hurt.

Seeing her for the past fortnight had been extremely tough on you. She was trying so hard to be strong for you but you had caught her crying while she thought you were asleep multiple times.

Your conversations held very little depth to them, both of you never mentioning the words that you had so foolishly yelled out but rather just talking about your recovery.

Your injuries were healing well, which you were grateful for. You just had to move a lot slower than you were used to, and you barely left your headquarters without assistance, Ramonda having reprimanded you when she caught you trying to go to the kitchen by yourself during the first week.

The only real difference between Ramonda on that day and Ramonda now was that she allowed other people to see you. More specifically Shuri and the people that you felt were important to you.

Your heart was still at high risk, so she was wary of too many people overwhelming you and you possibly having more complications, but regardless, things were getting better.

Ramonda looked at you sitting up in your bed, choosing to sit on the edge of the bed on your left side. The silence was deafening. You could see that she had so much to say, but she wasn't saying anything.

"My Queen," you took her hand and placed it between both of yours. You hadn't used that term in 3 weeks, so her face relaxed at your attempt at reassurance.

"My warrior…" She started, smiling a more genuine smile now. You reciprocated. "I wanted to talk with you. About a very important matter."

"I didn't go out last night. Whoever you saw was someone completely different." You defended your actions from the previous night, assuming that that was the thing she was confronting you about.

She laughed. "No, that's not what I'm here to talk about. Although your defence is terrible, and we'll probably talk about that later."

"Y/n." She cleared her throat, needing you to hear her as clearly as possible.

"You said something 3 weeks ago, when we were alone." She ended up saying. You shut your eyes in defeat. You'd hoped that what you said could be ignored forever.

"Ramonda, I'm sorry. I crossed a line with all of what I said. I was just so high on adrenaline and things that were never supposed to come out, ended up coming out."

"So it was true."

You kept quiet at that, too embarrassed to admit that it was the truest thing about you.

"How long?" Is all she asked next. You understood exactly what she was asking.

"A tremendously long time."

"So, for years."

You shook your head. "More like for decades." Detaching your hand from hers, you pushed yourself out of the bed.

Going to the corner to put on some half decent clothing, not wanting to go out in your pyjamas.

Ramonda watched you as she pondered over the decades that you had just described.

Putting on your top, you slowly turned to leave the room, the tension building more than it ever had.

"Y/n wait!" Ramonda called out when she finally realised what you were doing.

It was too late though. You were out of the door, heading to the gardens outside.

You weren't very fast, so she easily caught up to you, making you feel even more embarrassed.

You turned a corner, and she continued to follow you. Up until you entered the garden and needed to sit down. On the bench.

"Ramonda, please just leave me to be alone."

"No, Y/n. I nearly lost you not even a few weeks ago, and then you sprung a confession out of nowhere that has led me to question many things. I won't leave you alone."

"Why do you even care so much? I apologised and explained that it was all adrenaline."

She got caught in her own words again, not knowing what to say to that. She sat down next to you, looking down.

"I care because the truth is that I love you too, Y/n." Ramonda whispered. You looked at her in shock. "I'm not sure for how long, or if it's been buried deep down for years since our young adulthood. It's all just so complicated."

"Ramonda." You interrupted her. "You loved T'Chaka. You can't deny that he was the love of your life. It's okay to admit that you don't have feelings for me. I'm not a fragile child anymore" you lied to her. Sure you weren't a child anymore, but you were just as fragile if not more. You knew that her rejection would break you but it was time. Over 40 years of waiting was weighing in on you.

"He might have been the love of my life, but he has never been my soulmate." She declared.

You let off a breath of disbelief.

She said, "You have always been the real soul that I was tethered to, Y/n."

"You're just saying that."

She took your chin in her hand, forcing you to look directly at her. "What will it take for you to see that I'm not lying. I love you with everything in me, Y/n."

Tears welled up in both of your eyes. It was like deja vu, crying together again.

Your heart was beating fast now, your body not knowing how to respond.

Ramonda hesitated, but brought her face close to yours, bringing her lips to brush yours softly, allowing you to rip away if you wanted to.

You didn't.

Instead, you let her kiss you. Her lips were soft, and she was trying to be delicate with you.

All of your emotion went into the kiss, the decades of longing for that very moment not being forgotten.

Ramonda came closer, bringing you in for an embrace as she let her lips depart from yours.

You reluctantly split, and laid your head on her shoulder, feeling like a school child. Tears slipped down, falling on Ramonda's back as she hugged you tighter.

"I have waited my whole life for this moment. But still. I'm scared, Ramonda." You were honest now, your fears of this all being too much coming up, while also being scared of none of it being real.

She caressed your back, coaxing you into letting the clearly pent up tears fall.

"I know, sthandwa. I'm scared too. But we're going to take this slowly. I promise."

Your journey took longer than most, and although it took such a long time and a lot of painful events to get there, you both couldn't help but think of the same thing.

'I'd do it all over again.'

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

Author's Note: And with that, a new character is unlocked for this account. I really hope that this was okay for those of you who were waiting so patiently.

I love you, all so much. I don't think you know how much I really mean it.

I'm off to sleep now. It's been a long week.

Have a good day.

#queen ramonda #queen ramonda x reader #ramonda #black panther #black panther character x reader #queen ramonda angst #black panther2

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ladymunson · 2 years

Text

Is This Love

Fic summary: Eddie’s band Corroded Coffin is playing a gig at the Metro Club in Chicago, Illinois. You’ve been a fan since you saw them perform at your middle school talent show, around that time you’d developed your crush on Eddie. Unbeknownst to you, Eddie had also been harbouring a secret crush on you for years. Will he finally shoot his shot?

This is my very first one shot, I hope you all enjoy it. Inspired by the Whitesnake song.

Word count: 3521

Warnings: Lots of SMUT, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), mentions of parents fighting, mentions of drinking and smoking, brief mention of fingering

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated, copied or posted to any other platform. Support content creators by reblogging.

You arrive at the club early, you know that the headliners don’t go on until 10pm but you wanted to get there before all the screaming groupies.

You’d dressed in a black mini skirt, a Metallica sleeveless shirt, black leather jacket, fishnets and platform boots. You show that you’re a actual fan and not just there for the gorgeous long haired lead singer and guitarist.

Eddie Munson. Your middle and high school crush. The one you’d never had the courage to act upon. You didn’t avoid Eddie but you tried not to get too close, you were worried that you’d blurt it out one day. You didn’t belong to the Hellfire Club but you weren’t part of the ‘in crowd’ in school either, in fact those were the people who bullied you but you didn’t care. You’d spent your evenings and weekends listening to heavy metal, watching the Star Wars movies and reading fantasy novels.

Eddie was a year ahead of you in school but you ended up graduating the year before he did, as he failed twice. His band had been signed as soon as he’d finally graduated the year after you. You’d moved out of Hawkins straight after graduation, wanting to get away from your parents constant bickering. It didn’t matter much as your mom ended up staying with you at least once a month, and the phone calls made you feel like you’re back at home.

Your apartment wasn’t huge, but you’d saved up enough money from babysitting, tutoring and your job in the bookstore. You were very proud of your place, it was on the outskirts of Chicago so the rent was slightly cheaper. You had to travel into the city for work so you knew the place well. You’ve been waitressing at a diner five days a week during the day, and you tend bar twice at the weekend. You hope to save up enough to start night classes next semester.

You know the security at the bar, having been a regular visitor since you moved to Chicago, so you had no problems getting in. Once inside you went to the bar for a beer and headed to a table where you’d get a great view of the stage. You know Eddie always stood on the left, the right when looking at the stage so you made sure you were in his eye line.

He might not see you due to the lights but if he did, you hoped he’d recognise you. You’d tutored him in English when you were back in school. He’d passed that class but failed to graduate due to failing other classes.

You nursed that beer for an hour before the club started to fill up, you know the bartender Liv as well, having tended bar with her at another location. She sends a fresh beer over with another bartender that you know, Carrie, who isn’t working tonight.

Carrie approaches the table, two bottles of beer in her hands, one of them is your brand. You look up at her with a cocked eyebrow. “Liv sent you another beer, said you’ve been sitting here alone for like 40 mins. Date stand you up?”

“Nah no date, not in months. Just here to enjoy the music.” You reply, accepting the beer with a smile. “I’ll settle up with Liv at the end of the night.” You clink bottles together and take a drink.

------

Eddie is backstage, smoking a joint and drinking a beer. He can hear the sounds of Ten Seconds to Love by Motley Crue coming through the speakers, the walls are so thin. He has to be careful about bringing a groupie back here tonight.

He always picked a girl out from the crowd, the ones that looked at him with hearts and dollar signs in their eyes, and would dedicate a song to her. He’d always choose someone who looked like her. Then he’d invite the random girl backstage, to smoke and fool around, so she’d have a story to tell her friends. To make him seem like a real rockstar.

Lately though, he was tired of hook ups that meant nothing, that were forgotten almost as quickly as they happened. Tired of the girls saying his full name as his fingers were inside them. They didn’t know him, not really, they knew his stage persona. The one that’s full of confidence and sex appeal. Behind closed doors, he’s insecure, always thinking he’s not good enough. If he was he would’ve….

“Munson!!” The doors flew open as Gareth and Jeff burst in.

“Jesus H Christ! Are you trying to kill me?!” Eddie clutches his chest.

“Sorry but we had to….” Gareth says.

Jeff butts in, “Stop being such a wuss and tell him already!”

“I was about to but you cut me off…”

“Shut up!” Eddie yells, sick of the bickering that was just getting started. They stop and look at him. “Now… would you ladies like to tell me why you interrupted my pre show blunt?”

They look at each other, Gareth gulps before answering with his eyes on the floor. “Y/N is here.”

The room begins to spin. Either this weed is strong shit, or Eddie is having a panic attack. He hasn’t seen you in two years, since you left Hawkins after graduating. And yet the sound of your name makes him feel as nervous as he did the first time Corroded Coffin played at the talent show in middle school.

“Are you sure?” Eddie looks at both of them.

They nod. “Fuck!”

------

The first band came and went, you feel bad that they were so forgettable. They had some fans in the crowd but you couldn’t even remember their name.

Carrie had stayed with you, not wanting you to be alone. Guys have been giving you the eye all night but you’d not even noticed until Carrie pointed it out.

“What about him? He’s hot.” She says pointing to the guy standing three tables down from you. “He’s been staring at you since he got here.” He was good looking, blonde haired, tall and muscular. He was in a RATT vest and dark jeans, you could see the muscles bulging under his shirt.

“Not interested!” You give her the side eye.

“Okay well… you know that Liv is single?” You turn your head quickly, the serious expression on her face making you break out into a fit of giggles. “What’s funny?”

You can’t speak due to your laughter, Carrie huffs and pouts, folding her arms across her chest. Your laughter dies down. “I’m sorry Caz, just because I’m not interested in any of these guys doesn’t mean…”

She nods, “I get it y/n, just giving you options.” You smile and thank her as the second opening band start their set.

-------

Eddie pokes his head out of the door that leads to the backstage area to see if he can find you, he doesn’t even need to look very hard. He’d spot you during rush hour at grand central station. His crush having got to the point where he knew every freckle on your face, the shape of your lips, all the various colours in your eyes, the slope of your nose and of course the curves of your body.

The crush he had on you has festered over the years and he thinks it’s now more than a crush. He gazes at you, love in his eyes. You’ve grown your hair out since he last saw you, it looks the perfect length to grab. Eddie curses his mind, it had to go there. He turns back into the backstage area before his semi becomes a full blown erection and he’ll have to go and rub one out in the dingy bathroom.

He ignores the tent in his pants and goes back to the dressing room, relighting his joint and taking a long drag. He worries that seeing you when he’s on stage is gonna affect his playing…

“How do you guys feel about doing a… ballad tonight?” Eddie asks nervously. The guys smirk but say nothing, letting Eddie ramble on. “I mean I know we don’t usually, but you know that y/n is here and I’ve liked her for the longest time so do you think maybe…?” The guys burst into laughter. Eddie hangs his head in defeat.

They see how their laughing has effected him so they stop and look at each other. “What song were you thinking?” His head snaps up.

“You know we’ve jammed and played a few songs off the new Whitesnake album?” They all nod. “I was thinking Is This Love, it says all the things I’m afraid to say.” They all agree to play that song. Eddie has butterflies, he worries that you’ll reject or laugh at him but he tries to stay brave.

-------

The lights go out in the club, except those behind the bar. You feel nerves start to bubble up as the headliners, Corroded Coffin are announced. The crowd goes wild and there’s a loud guitar riff as the lights go on and there’s an explosion as the pyros go off and they break into their first song.

Eddie steps up to the microphone and begins singing, his voice is silky and beautiful. The sound going straight between your legs, you cross your legs to gain some friction. You’re embarrassed about doing it in plain sight but the sight of him and the sound of his voice lights a fire inside you. But no one seems to notice, everyone is too busy mesmerised by the band performing on stage.

The song finishes and there’s a huge round of applause, cheering and screaming. “Wow, now I know what all the hype is about!” Carrie yells over the sound of the crowd, you don’t answer, you simply nod.

“We are Corroded Coffin and here’s one you might know!” Eddie says, and slams his hand down the strings of his guitar and the recognisable opening riff of ‘Master of Puppets’ begins. You almost fall off your chair, you’re wearing a Master of Puppets shirt! Has he seen you already? They play the song flawlessly, you’re on the edge of your seat the whole time and instantly on your feet at the end. Cheering and clapping for them.

“What’s gotten in to you?” Carrie asks as you sit back down.

“Nothing just…” you point to your shirt. “It’s my favourite Metallica song.” Carrie smirks but says nothing. The band play a couple more original songs, you clap and cheer along with everyone else.

-------

“We’d like to slow things down for a moment, to catch our breath before our big finale. This song is dedicated to… y/n.” Eddie says, and the opening chords of the song began, you recognised them instantly. Your breath catches in your throat and tears form behind your eyes. And then Eddie starts singing.

I should’ve known better, than to let you go alone.

It’s times like these, can’t make it on my own. Wasted days, and sleepless nights. I can’t wait to see you again.

I find I spend my time, waiting on your call.

How can I tell you babe, my back’s against the wall.

I need you by my side, to tell me it’s alright. ‘Cause I don’t think I can take any more.

Is this love, that I’m feeling

Is this the love, that I’ve been searching for

Is this love, or am I dreaming

Is this love, ‘cause it’s really got a hold on me.

“Did he mean you?” Carrie asks as there’s the instrumental after the chorus. You turn to face her but you didn’t need to answer, she could see it written all over your face. “So that’s why you didn’t want me to help you get a date…”

“We went to high school together but I haven’t seen him in two years.” Carrie’s eyes widen. “I guess this means that he had a crush on me too.” Eddie locks eyes with you and continues singing.

Can’t stop the feeling, I’ve been this way before.

But with you I’ve found the key, to open any door.

I can feel my love for you, growing stronger day by day.

And I can’t wait to see you again, so I can hold you in my arms.

Is this love, that I’m feeling…

--------

When the song is finished, you and Eddie stare at each other. The crowd goes wild. He turns to look at Gareth and nods, Gareth counts in for the final song. You don’t stop staring at Eddie and the way his fingers flow up and down the neck of his guitar, the light shining off his rings.

The song comes to an end and the band thanks the crowd. Eddie looks back towards the boys who grin nod at him, he flashes a grin back and jumps off the stage. Making his way through the screaming crowd, ignoring all the girls who are manhandling him until he gets to you.

He reaches you, grabs your hand and pulls you out of your seat. Your face is flushed as you stand, he flashes that stupid fucking grin at you. The one that used to leave you with damp underwear, and pulls you towards the door.

-------

The air hits you as you get outside, a harsh change compared to the sweat inducing heat inside. Eddie begins to pull you towards his van but you stop him, leaning against the wall outside and reaching inside your jacket for your cigarettes and lighter.

Eddie grabs them from your hand, staring straight into your eyes, breath heaving. He drops them onto the floor and reaches for you, cupping your face and leaning his forehead on yours.

“Five fucking years, not waiting anymore.” Eddie says, brushing his lips against yours. You moan and grab the back of his head, pulling him closer. Your lips part, granting him access. He groans into your mouth as your tongue sweeps along his, taking in his taste. He tastes like beer, whisky and cigarettes. A combination you hadn’t even been aware that was your kryptonite. You let out a moan, your hands tangling in his hair.

He pulls away momentarily, catching his breath and looking around, trying to find a private spot. He spots an alleyway about fifteen yards from where you’re standing, grabs your hand, grins and drags you into the alley.

-------

You’re pushed against the wall and Eddie’s mouth is on yours again, tongues and hands exploring. Your arms are around his neck as he kisses the life out of you. Eddie’s hands grab your thighs and he lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist and locking just above the curve of his ass.

His hands wander underneath your skirt, playing with the gusset of your underwear. “Holy shit y/n! You’re fucking soaked!” Eddie moans into your mouth as you continue kissing. The urgency of your kissing making your teeth clash together. Eddie stops kissing you for a moment and fumbles to find his belt and zipper, finding them after a moment and undoing his pants.

A thought crosses your mind and you lean forward like you’re going to kiss him again, but you instead take his bottom lip between your teeth and nip him gently. You feel his cock twitch under your ass and he growls. He pulls your underwear aside, and lines himself up with your heat, coating himself in your slick.

“You okay with this?” Eddie asks breathlessly. You let out a breathy “yes” and he begins to slide inside you. Your eyes roll back, your mouth opens and you let out a moan as he begins to fill your dripping cunt. Your walls pulsating around him, making him grunt as he continues to slide into you.

‘Jesus he must be fucking huge!’ You think to yourself as he’s still not fully inside you. You revel in the stretch as he bottoms out, completely sheathed in you. You feel… complete, like he’s a part of your that’s been missing all your life.

“You’re so warm and wet, and tight… fuck it’s like you were made just for me!” Eddie moans as he begins to move, sliding through your wetness smoothly. Gliding in and out of your heat like a man possessed. Your hands are in his hair again and you pull his face to yours, kissing him like you’re starved for him. “I’ve waited so fucking long for this y/n.” He groans into your mouth. “It always took every fibre of my being to not bend you over the lunch table and take you right there in the cafeteria.” You grin at the thought.

“Shit!” Eddie’s hips falter. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep going.”

You look around the alley and spot a large crate in the corner and point to it. Eddie turns his head and nods, leaving his cock inside you as he grabs your thighs, holding you up and walks over to the crate. He sits on the edge, pulling himself further on while you’re still on him.

Your knees now on the crate and Eddie in an almost laying position, you grin at him. Leaning down for a quick peck on the lips before your hands press down on his chest and you lift yourself ever so slightly. A strangled sound leaves Eddie’s throat and you smile to yourself.

-------

‘Holy fucking shit! She’s gonna ride me! I never ever thought this would happen our first time.’ Eddie thinks to himself as you lift and lower yourself into him again.

Your wet velvety walls squeezing his rock hard cock, he can’t remember the last time he was this hard. You begin circling your hips and Eddie almost loses his goddamn mind, he’s never known anyone like you. You’re not only caring about your pleasure, but about his too.

Most of the girls that he’d hooked up with backstage have always been his priority, none of them even got him remotely close so he just got them off so they would leave. But you… you were something else!

Variating between circling your hips, rolling them and lifting up and sliding back down on to his cock. He tries to sit up so he can kiss you but you hold him down, winking at him as you move faster.

“Baby… slow down.” Eddie whispers, you stop and look at him. “I want you there with me.” You move your hands off his chest and he sits up, his left hand cupping the back of your head as he covers your mouth with his. His tongue flicking all around as he devours your mouth.

His right hand reaches between you, finding your sensitive bundle of nerves, making shocks flow through you. Eddie can feel the little flutters around his cock, he wants you to cum, to make the memory of how you feel as your walls clench and pulsate around him.

He releases your mouth, and groans out, “come for me baby!”

--------

His words instantly trigger your climax, making you cry out and hold onto Eddie for dear life. You’ve never experienced an orgasm this intense before in your life. It’s the kind that you’ve read about in magazines. The one that makes your eyes roll back, tears flow and your entire body shake all over. You thought those kinds of orgasms were a myth… until now.

-------

Eddie comes with you, but he’d had never had his cock squeezed this tightly before. It’s like your cunt is trying to strangle him and milk him all at the same time, it makes his climax run longer than he’s used to. You hold each other for a while, coming down from your high and trying to catch your breath.

Is this what people mean when they talk about soul mates? Eddie cynical brain is starting to think that may be a very real thing.

You smile, “that was… something else!” You breathe out.

Eddie looks at you with hooded eyes, “mine now?”

“I’ve always been yours Eddie.” He grins and lifts you off of him, sliding your underwear back into place.

Eddie looks at you and smiles, leaning in to gently brush his lips across yours. He pulls back just enough to touch his forehead to yours. “Marry me?!”

The end

Taglist: @sweetpeapod, @nycbaby21, @b-irock

#eddie munson #stranger things 4 #stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #master of puppets #strangerthings

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tired-night-owl · 3 months

Text

Blood Runs Cold

Fandom : Star Wars The Bad Batch

One shot ?

I tried to write a small fic about Crosshair and Omega in the new promo that’s been released because I can’t wait to see them together in the new season even if I know my heart is gonna get crushed by Dave Filony again… Hopefully I am the opposite of last season and I am soooo wrong and they will all be reunited as a big family where no one dies or sacrifice themselves for the others ! Anyway I hope you enjoy :)

Word count : 866

Summary : Crosshair has much to think about in his new conditions, what doesn’t help is when a far too bubbly and optimistic teenager comes and ruins his peaceful self pity moment.

Notes : brief mention of torture I guess, small but graphic description of tech’s death, Siblings!crosshair x omega, Spoilers for the new promo clip !

He noticed it a while ago, when they first started their wicked experiments on him. He tried to keep it under control mostly for his pride because seeing as with such a condition, his (now rendered useless) talent would be even more so wasn’t helping his morale. Crosshair didn’t mind it too much for now because not one clone in this cursed facility was in any shape or form to judge him in his misery. That is until the girl showed up.

That child has been the sole cause for any misfortune he had to live though in the last couple of months he thought, but scolded himself to at least not make it show. She has enough to deal with too at the moment without having to suffer his endless wrath and sorrows. Still she cost him everything. His family, in more ways than one, his station, attempting to save her branded him a traitor and a VIP ticket to Hemlock’s test table and —

His mind went silent

His brother Tech…. He had to give his life for hers. Skull smashed to pieces because they didn’t heed his warning. There's no way the batch can survive without its brain now.

His mind whirled with thoughts like these locked in his dark cell all day. Some would say they were enough to drive a man insane but Crosshair already knew insane, and it wasn’t by his choice. Now he sees it, the effect that damn chip has had on him. How it made him turn on the only people who ever cared for him. He couldn’t turn on this one now.

« Crosshair… »

« Crosshair ! I tried to come earlier, but there are too many guards watching me…»

He tried to calm his usually snappy tone for the sake of the girl who must be as terrified if not more than he is at the moment.

« You shouldn’t be down here at all » he tried to make her realize a little harsher than he wished.

It was foolish of her to put a target on her back by snooping around, on THEIR backs. In a situation like this where there is no hope, it’s best to comply and hope you die as painlessly as possible. Though that seemed unlikely for him at the hands of that sick scientist. But there might be hope for her yet if she stopped escaping her quarters.

The girl continued with her misplaced energy and optimism.

« How else are we gonna plan an escape ? »

An escape ?! Had she gone insane? Did she not realize they were in the middle of no where, in an unknown imperial playground, surrounded by guards with no moral compass except loyalty to the credits they earn at the end of each shift filled with screams of tortured people. Better to kill that idea in the egg before she gets too altruistic.

The sniper resumed his usual cold and unapproachable attitude, hoping the girl would realize that planning an escape in a place such as this with only 1 ally was foolish already but with no one, it was simply stretching your neck to help the executioner do his job.

« There is no WE, and there is no escape… I’ve already tried. »

The young clone didn’t budge.

« Every stronghold has a weak point ! Maybe I could convince Emerie to help, she’s one of us. »

His brothers has taught her well he could tell, and by that he meant by filling her head with useless idiotic tactics and informations for a obviously changing galaxy. Besides if they shouldn’t trust one person in this Sarlac pit, it was HER. That double crossing scientist woman. Testing on people was bad enough but on her own « brothers » that was being a plain sociopathic hypocrite.

« Not every clone is your ally ! » The sharpshooter reminded her.

« You trust too easily… »

He expected a reply and one sounding similar to that one too, so he doesn’t know why her words struck him so.

« Maybe you don’t trust enough. » Omega replied with that same misguided hope as earlier.

An uncomfortable silence surrounded the two and then it started again : the shaking.

The stupid shaking he couldn’t stop. The best sniper in the whole GAR with quivering hands, how ironic. He felt uneasy having her see him like this. It was as if his own brothers could see how low he had fallen and for a prideful man like Crosshair, it was not an easy feat to overcome.

« Crosshair ? » The young girl asked after her gaze fell upon her brother hiding his hands from her.

Not so long ago he would’ve snapped at her for simply seeing him in a state like this, desperately trying to steady his once reliable hands but now, he just didn’t have the heart or the energy to do so…

« Just… Go. » he simply said.

« Before you make things worst for both of us… »

In this moment he came to the conclusion that yes, he didn’t want to be punished for the girl’s misbehaviour but he also mostly didn’t want her to suffer because of him.

Knowing Hemlock, he wouldn’t even do it to punish Omega… but he would do unexplainable things to the girl to make HIM suffer.

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #tbb spoilers #star wars the clone wars #tbb finale #tbbspoilers #tbbedit #tbb crosshair #bad batch season 3 #tbb omega #Siblings!omegaxcrosshair #my fic #crosshair the bad batch #crosshair #omega bad batch #omega tbb #star wars fic #star wars fanfiction

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sparkedblaze · 11 months

Text

Hi here's all my favorite things about Livesies as I watch it

92sies

This is fsfs gonna be part 1 of 2 or 3

T/W violence, cursing, ets

The Overture. It plays all these semi-familiar tunes from 92sies with a little funky freshness to it and I love it sm

THE FUCKING PROJECTIONS AHAHHHHH

CRUTCHIE BEING THE ONLY OTHER NEWSIE (BESIDES ALBERT) WITH A BACKWARDS HAT

"I ain't been walkin' so good" 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

"Doyawannabustyaothalegtoo?!" "Uh.. no I wanna go down."

"Ya seein' stars alright."

Their accents and over acting are amazing

A big life in a small town SUCKS Jackson Kelly

Heh heh

*waves hand in front of Crutchie's eyes*

CRUTCHIE ACTUALLY CLOSING HIS EYES AND HIS LIL SMILE WHILE HE'S IMAGINING SANTA FE

DID I MENTION THE PROJECTIONS

yA RIDe it inStyLE FEACHA ME RIDIN IN STILE

"WORK THE LAND CHASE THE SUN SWIM THE W H O L E R I O G R A N D E JUST FOR FUUUUN"

"WATCH ME STAND😄 Watch me run 😀 🙁"

"hey HEY"

THE IDEA THAT THE PROLOGUE IS ACTUALLY A PROLOGUE I THINK IT'S @raggedy-albert 'S HC

RACETRACK MOTHERFUCKING HIGGINS

ALBERT FUCKING DASILVA

"A leg of lamb 🥰"

R A L B E R T

FINCH

BEN COOK SKY FLAHERTY IAIN YOUNG JOSH BURRAGE

MUSH'S HOP LOOKING FOR HIS HAT

MIKE AND IKE TRADING HATS

CRUTCHIE SHINING HIS CRUTCH

BUTTONS' HAND MOVEMENT ON 'FISHES'

JACK NUDGING SMALLS ON 'FISHES'

IAIN YOUNG'S LIL RAT BOY FACE

'Step aside Romeo nothin more concerns u here'

Poisonally

Kath's sass

Darcy pretending he's straight

"I'M CRUSHED"

"Gonna rain?" "Uuuuhhhhhh..... No rain oh-ho partlycloudyclearbyevenin"

"BLIND" "AND MUTE" "AND DEAD"

Jack taking Finch's slingshot

Flip

Tommy's lil hops

"I LIKES LIVIN CHANCEY"

ELMER AND BUTTONS TAKING OFF THEIR HATS WHEN THE NUNS SHOW UP

"I dunno Sister, but it's bound to rain soon'a o' lat'a!"😃

BEN COOK

ANTHONY ZAS

NICK MASSON

JOSH BURRAGE

SKY FLAHERTY

IAIN YOUNG

CHAZ WOLCOTT

AND ALL THE OTHERS WHO I DON'T REMEMBER THE NAMES OF THE ACTORS

Everyone hopping to give their cups back

"I DO TOOOOO SO IT MUST ME TRUUUUUE WHAT A SWITCH, SOON WE'LL ALL BE RICH DON'T KNOW A BETTER WAY TO MAKE A NEWSIES DAYYY"

Their entire lil dancey dance right here

Elmer offended at being whacked with hat

"GOTAFEELINBOUTAHEADLINEISMELLSMEAHEADLINEPAPESAREGONNASELLLIKEWEWASGIVINEMAWAYBETCHADINNERITSADOOZYBOUTAPISTOLPACKINFLOOZYDONTKNOWANYBETTERWAYTOMAKEANEWSIESDAYIWASSTAKINOUTTHECIRCUSANDTHENSOMEONESAIDTHATCONEYSREALLYHOTBUTWHENIGOTTHERETHEREWASSPOTWITHALLHISCRONIESYOIMGONNATAKEWHATLITTLEDOUGHIGOTANDPLAYTHEPONIESWEATLEASTDESERVESAHEADLINEFORTHEHOURSTHATTHEYWORKUSJEEZIBETIFIJUSTSTAYEDALITTLELONGERATTHECIRCUS"

Finch finger guns

Jack taking Finch's hat

Smalls diving under Finch's leg

Finch's face right before they say 'yeah!'

Whatever Al's face is doing ever

*disappointment*

Romeo waving like the little bean he is

"WATCH IT"

"It's honest woik"

"AINCHA FADDA ONE O THA STRIKAS"

Albert and Racer

Ralbert

Whack whack

The Delanceys running into each other

Morris hopping from steps

Everyone getting their bags

ALBERT PUT YOUR FUCKING HAT ON

Big smiles everyone, we just finished the first big number Race: :O

Davey trying to slow Les

"I'll call ya sweetheart if you spot me 50 papes"

"I'M NEW TOO"

Albert, to Jojo: Yo check this shit out. Watch what I'm about to do to this bitch "YOU HAVE A VERRRRY INTERESTING FACE. EVER THOUGHT ABOUT GETTIN' INTO MOVIN' PITCHAS?!"

"BUY A TICKET THEY LET ANYONE IN"

*Does not pay*

Everyone's face when they laugh at Jack making fun of Oscar

"The faymus Jack Kelly"

Ben Cook's dumbass socks

Jack's "holy fuck he can do math" face

Specs laughing at Jack's reaction to Les knowing math

"That's disgusting"

W i b b l e

Specs never using stairs properly

Albert riding in on Pulitzer's desk

FOOTBALL? *whack* VIOLENT? *whack*

"Guess what? He got elected." *runs*

Nunzio.

My roommate and I accidentally mashing cut and slit like twice and so now we say slut instead of either

"-like an army that's marching to war." I mean... He wasn't wrong

Has anyone noticed how similar Hannah and Kath look?

BIG STEP BIG STEP BIG STEP

"buy a pape from a poor orphan boy" *cough cough*

"BORN TO THE BREED"

"THIS IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN SCHOOL" "This kid"

Racetrack hawkin in the background and bolting when Snyder comes

"Doesn't everyone?"

ALL THE CONTINUITY ERRORS IN MEDDA'S THEATER. THE BOYS GOING FROM NEWSIES TO FAKE MUSTACHE MEN AND BACK

LOVEY DOVEY BABY PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND

Jack saying pocket with the same intensity that Draco Malfoy says Potter

MEDDA FUCKING LARKIN

"The only thing I own is the mortgage"

"ARE YOU BLIND SHE GOT NO CLOTHES ON"

The look Jack and Davey share when Medda says she knows the governor

"YOU PICTURED THAT?!"

"Take it easy, it's a bunch of trees."

"Jeez! I never knew no one with a aptitude!"

"I AM?! HOW 'M I DOIN'?!"

'I'm better than you' the song

Jack's lil figure 8 dance with just his head

"And prayers from the Pope"

Devin Lewis as Jack for like two scenes.

"AND. MY. BANK."

Watching Jack recognize Katherine

"Why don't you go find out?" 👀

"You want I should lock the door"

"Doin what?"

It's hard to like a whole lot about the scenes where they're flirting bc Kath is so outwardly uncomfy with it

And also they're both simps for Jacobses

*two finger point*

"sOrry mIss mEddA"

Jack's hesitation before he starts singing

"Girls are nice, once or twice, til I find someone new" You bisexual pining bitch

Does anyone know who does the actual sketch?

T H E P R O J E C T I O N

"-and you lie like a rug!"

"What are you doing?!"

"Hey-hey quiet down there's a show goin' on!"

"Shhhhhhhhh"

"Everr"

HAT TIP AND SMIRK AS JACK IS CLIMBING DOWN

MIKE AND IKE GIVING OFF THE MAJOREST SIBLING EVERGY

"Sirens is like lullabies to me."

DELANCEY DEVASTATION AT "they've got a mother" THEY'RE SO TRASH AND HURT I LOVE THEM

"He traded her for a box o' cigars!" "HEY THEY WAS CORONAS"

"Ain't we the hoi polloi!"

"Ask me after they put up the headline"

"Is that news?" "ITISTOME"

Romeo. R O M E O

"I ain't payin' no sixty."

DEUS SPECS MACHINA

BAMBAM "C'mere fellas"

Henry's pose as he says "AIN'T WE GOT NO RIGHTS?!"

IK THAT EVERYONE SAYS TOMMY LOOKS DOWN BC HE'S CONFUSED WHEN JACK SAYS 'WOULD YOU KEEP YOUR SHIRT ON' BC HE'S WEARING A SHIRT YADDA YADDA BUT HE'S NOT THAT'S HIS UNDERSHIRT. SO HE'S CONFUSED BC HIS SHIRT IS ALREADY OFF. BACK IN THOSE TIMES BEING IN JUST YOUR UNDERSHIRT, YOU MAY AS WELL HAVE NO SHIRT. THX FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK

LES SHOVING PEOPLE

Crutchie desperately trying to hop to keep up

Jojo and Elmer.

"Hey Jack you still thinkin?" "Sure he is. Can't ya smell smoke?"

(I'm out of character limits so this is part 1)

#my favorite things about newsies #my favorite livesies things #newsies #livesies

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 6 months

Text

Y'all out here arguing about canon ships meanwhile we out here shipping Hobie with everything single one OC I come across.

I'm serious. So uhhh here's

Hobie's Beaus - Hobie x Fandom!OCs Headcanons

[headcanons about my OC and other OCs who are emotionally involved with Hobie being besties]

It's not even like 'Oh him and Diane have a separate storyline universe-'

No they all have a unique and separate relationship with him. No they're not poly. Hobie is just everywhere where he needs to be. Even if it means being two places at once.

Hobie doesn't believe in logic.

Ansi sleeps in his bed nearly every night. When Mariah is there she'll take the couch or floor and they'll have a sleep over but Ansi is there way more and it's not unusual to hear Ansi in the background when Diane calls Hobie on the UniPhone (phone Hobie made her so they can talk across universes) or Ansi being the one to pick up the phone.

When Mariah and Ansi have bad flares the same day they lay around the boathouse and Hobie becomes the residential maid for the day.

It usually ends up with them watching The Princess Bride, the First Star Wars, or Halloween (the last two being Mariahs comfort movies)

Diane goes to Hobie's shows and vice versa - but he also hours to Josephine's show every Friday, and picks her up after practice when he can.

When Asa's kids run up to Diane asking for their mommy Diane knows that means they need Hobie

Wade Ansi and Diane be sitting on Hobies bedroom floor gushing about him and how cool he is then Hobie comes back in the room with the pizza like 'what are y'all talking about'

And they're like 'not u. loser...as if' because they all love him to death but they all think he's a dork

Diane standing next to Maitreyi at the food court and catches her looking at Hobie and she loudly goes "You have a crush on Hobie???!!! Me too 😄 You should join our Hobie fanclub!! For people who have LOVE him and crushes on Hobie-"

And Maitreyi is probably like "sis keep it down before he hears you PLEASE 😭"

His place is DROWNING in their stuff. Jo's ballet gear and pointe shoes on his dresser, Diane's makeup COVERS his bathroom counter. Maitreyi goes all out for Diwali on the boathouse.

They all hang out together and it's a SWELL ASS TIME.

Diane and Jo are both performers so sometimes they use the training rooms as dance practice rooms and run into each other.

The gang will be in a random disagreement about something like whether you put ketchup in the fridge or not and they'll call Asa to be the tiebreaker

Maitreyi may not be the most friendly but neither is Hobies MJ Mariah, so Mariah tries to be friends by sitting in silence with her. Chilling.

Mariah and Wade are both talkative as HELL so the two of them will talk up a storm and Hobie can hardly get a word in

All the SpiderBeaus eat lunch together with him and once a week they all have dinner on the houseboat with Wade and Mariah

There are no shipping wars we have ascended. All of this at once in my head

[OCs mentioned:

Mine:

Disco-Spider Diane, Mariah-Janet Waters Earth-138

Others:

@spidey-bie's Ansi

@qirarey123's Josephine

@autisticarach's Asa

@thewolfsoul's Wade

@hobiebrownismygod's Maitreyi

#Hope this is okay 🥺#sorry if I got anything wrong #spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #spidersona #spidersonas #hobie x oc #Hobie Brown x OCs #Hobie brown x oc #discospider #disco spider

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gatorbites-imagines · 2 years

Note

Mind if I requested a Mando with a tall S/O? Like my boy here ain't your typical 6'0 man, he's around 8ft tall and wears thick armor, basically imagine Doom Guy if he were much taller and a Panzer(Tank) in human form. But in reality he affectionate, Mando only finds out when he gets picked up by the tank in a hug or is shown care when S/O has to patch the man up

Din Djarin x Tall male reader

Headcanons

Its not mentioned but imagine the readers armor is like Paz Vizsla seeing as he is a tanker-like type Mandalorian.

Sorry this took like a million years for me to write, haven’t been in the biggest Star Wars mood lately, but I’m back Baby.

I didn’t feel like adding as much mando´a in this fic as the other Din Djarin ones I’ve written.

Helmet kisses, lets goooo

- You and Din first met on a bounty that you had both taken. You are from different coverts, yours being one that allows people to remove their helmets and be open about names and alike.

- This doesn’t mean you remove your helmet a lot. You tend to keep it on because its more comfortable, unknown to you it makes you very intimidating and even scary to some people.

- Being that you are both Mandalorian and that there are not many left, you decide to split the bounty. You assume Din isn’t much of a talker and since you enjoy quiet, you don’t speak much on this mission. This makes Din feel like he has to be serious and follow the way when around you, since you remind him of Paz.

- You give eachother your contacts and keep on touch, mainly by sharing bounties the other might enjoy and alike. Overtime it becomes closer to small talk, but as much as Din hates to admit it he is still slightly intimidated by you as you tower over him in height and build.

- You take bounties very seriously, and seeing as you are an incredible fighter it pushes Din to try harder. Seeing Din try so hard you press yourself too. You end up helping each other get better without realizing.

- You start to develop feelings for the other man when he takes a blasterbolt for you, not caring for his own wellbeing. You feel yourself fretting on the inside and ask if he needs help patching up. Din, not being used to attention, says he can do it himself.

- You don’t know but Din has been developing feelings for a while. He sees how an incredible fighter you are, how handsome you are in your armor even if he hasn’t seen your face, and how you go out of your way to protect the innocent. So, you offering to help makes his face hot.

- The two of you continue your dance, subtly flirting in ways only bounty hunters and mandalorians only can. By having each other’s backs during bounties and giving each other weapons as gifts.

- Its during one of these bounties you two get split up. It had turned out much worse than you had been told. It went from catching a few wanted people, to being swarmed by what seems like a never-ending swarm of beings, all gunning for your head.

- Your com connection to Din ends up shorting out, and you don’t know if your friend and crush is alright.

- When the battle is finally over Din and you meet up at your ships, and Din is noticeably limping and covered in blood that appears to be his own.

- He tries to make a comment about being fine, but you feel all the worry that had been building up well over, and you throw your arms around him and lift him off the ground, clutching him close.

- Din stutters, fumbling with his hands as he doesn’t know what to do with them, before wrapping his arms around you in return.

- You stay wrapped up until the adrenaline wears off and your own wounds start hurting. This makes you realize Din was hurt, so you carry him off into your ship.

- He tries to say he’s fine and can do it himself, but you brush it off, telling him you’ll help and it’s the least you could do.

- It takes some fumbling around but your both out of your armor, except helmets, and you help Din put on bacta patches and clean up.

- At some point your patching up the last cut on his arm, and after putting the bacta on, your visors meet, and you feel your chest and face warm.

- You’re both at a loss for words, you both know what you want but don’t know how to act on it. It ends with you leaning forward and clinking your forehead against his in a Keldabe, Din twitching before reaching up to grasp as your neck to pull you closer.

#male reader #star wars #din djarin #mandalorian reader #star wars imagine #star wars headcanon #star wars x male reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin headcanon #din djarin x male reader #mandalorian imagine #Mandalorian Headcanon #mandalorian x male reader

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webfics · 1 year

Text

Marathon

Pairing - mcu!peter parker x f!reader

Warnings - None really, just a ton of oblivious mutual pining and a few curse words. Usage of Y/N.

Summary - Peter and y/n have been friends for a while, but have never admitted their feelings for each other. It's been a year since Peter first showed you star wars and you have planned a re-watch to celebrate. What Peter doesn't know is that you've been harbouring a crush on him since the first marathon and were finally going to tell him.

A/N - This is my first peter parker fic so I apologise if I don't do his character justice. Mentions of reader wanting to become a detective but its not really that important.

GIF by thosekidswhohuntmonsters

You and Peter had met each other during middle school. He had noticed Flash Thompson trying to steal your notebook out of your backpack when you weren't looking and decided to stand up for you, and although it resulted in his unfortunate nickname, it was worth becoming friends with you.

Since then, the two of you had become inseparable and spent almost every day in each others company. Along with your mutual best friend Ned Leeds of course, whom you met not long after meeting Peter. The two of you were so close that you were the first person Peter told when he became Spiderman.

You had developed feelings for Peter towards the end of your freshman year. The two of you had decided to have a Star Wars movie marathon as you had never seen the franchise. Peter was in shock and naturally, he forced you to watch them all. His scarily accurate impression of chewie and constant nerdy facts had made you swoon. And that god damn laugh of his could of killed you then and there.

You would never let him know that though. You had seen enough movies to know that dating your best friend was never a good idea. Plus, you knew that Peter saw you as nothing more than a friend. He makes that very clear anytime somebody brings up how close the two of you are.

Which is exactly what he was doing right now.

"I'm just saying... the two of you would totally be a cute couple". Liz had came over to speak to Betty, who was eating with you, Peter and Ned, and had referred to you as Peters girlfriend. The mistake had made you blush at the thought until Peter harshly shut it down.

"Oh no, Y/N and I are just friends. She's basically my sister at this point". You had laughed it off but Ned, who knew about your long time crush on Peter, noticed the disappointment in your face.

What you didn't know was that Peter had feelings for you too. He had since before the two of you were friends and it was the reason he stood up for you in the first place. He had tried hinting towards it quite a lot during the early days of your friendship, but you never seemed to notice. Peter had just assumed that you hadn't liked him back and decided he was happy being just your friend.

Ned was obviously aware of this, which made this situation a lot tougher for him. Anytime the two of you dismissed your feelings, he wanted to just blurt it out, but he was adamant that the two of you would work it out eventually and decided to just allow it to happen naturally, no matter how painful it was to watch.

The lunch bell rang and you said your goodbyes to everyone. Checking in with Peter to make sure your plans were still in place for later before heading to your final lesson of the day.

Your lesson had dragged on for what felt like a week before the bell finally dismissed everyone. You grabbed your stuff and headed to the front of the school, where you were set to meet Peter.

When you arrived he was already stood there waiting for you. His tattered bag was slung over his shoulder and a few strands of his hair were covering his face as he was looking down at his phone. You walked over to him and when he noticed you approaching, he shot you one of his annoyingly adorable smiles.

"Hello there". You said, now standing next to him. He smirked slightly before replying "General Kenobi". You laughed at his Grievous impression and then the two of you started walking back to Peter's. The two of you were planning on re-watching the original trilogy in honour of it being a year since the first time you had watched the franchise together.

"I can't believe it's been a year since our marathon" you say to peter, walking into his home.

"How does it feel knowing you've been a star wars nerd for a whole year? Honestly dude it's kind of sad." Peter asked, teasingly.

"Coming from the one who practically came out of the womb reciting empire" you reply, rolling your eyes sarcastically.

------

You were now sitting on Peter's bed with him, watching Return of the Jedi and all you could think about was how much you liked Peter. Every comment he made about the films, his darth vader impression, the way he was so enthralled and passionate about the franchise... you loved everything about him.

Well not everything, you weren't too happy about his tendency of risking his life every night. But that's besides the point.

You really liked him.

And you needed to tell him.

"You know what's funny?" you say, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

"What?" Peter turned to you and popped some popcorn into his mouth.

"Our first marathon was when i started liking you" you reply, trying to disguise how nervous you were by turning your attention back to the movie.

Peter choked on his popcorn for a moment and quickly composed himself.

"Liking me?" he asked.

"Yeah, i had a huge crush on you back then" you say, searching his face for any form of reaction but he just sat there, shocked.

"Still do" you added, and this time you got a reaction.

"Wait, you LIKE me?" he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"I really like you Peter" you reply, emphasising the 'really'.

He smiled suddenly.

"I really like you too Y/N" he said, mimicking your emphasis and now you were smiling. "It's kind of the whole reason i defended you in middle school"

"You've liked me since middle school?!" you asked him, as shocked as he was moments before.

"I thought it was obvious, i flirted with you constantly" he admitted.

"I honestly thought you were just being polite" you said, now realising how blind you had been.

"And you want to be a detective" he joked and you punched his shoulder lightly.

"Shut up, i was a child okay" you laughed.

"Just saying" he said and you rolled your eyes.

"Wait," you say and Peter turns to you again "so you couldn't tell me you liked me but you could tell me you were spiderman"

Peter paused for a moment. "In my defence, I didn't exactly tell you i was spiderman, you figured it out"

"Which is exactly why i'd be a great detective" you say, crossing your arms and Peter laughs.

"I'm serious" you say.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #mcu!peter x reader #mcu!spiderman x reader #mcu!peter parker #spiderman x reader #tom!spiderman #mcu #marvel

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padme-amitabha · 7 months

Note

It frustrates me that star wars seems to want to erase padme. She never gets mentioned at all … ever, like that is luke and leias mother!! It feels like they want to squash her importance in the story even though she is the most important person in anakins life yet now it seems the writers want to make ahsoka that person in anakins life

And it's sadder when she does get mentioned she has to be retconned to be a StRoNg FeMaLe ChArAcTeR like by erasing her kindness (that's one of the things Leia says about her mother!) and making her seem more badass and stoic in some way in Queen's Shadow (just like Anakin isn't spared and retconned in TCW to gain the fanbase's approval). I mean yes her work is important and deserves more content but there should be a balance between her work and personal life because both were equally important to Padme (although we see her priotizing her loved ones but her work also affects her significantly in ROTS). So she's less and less of the Padme she originally was and more how the fans want her to be and think she should be. However, characters are flawed and if Padme was a stoic girlboss she would have simply divorced Anakin rather than going after him and believing in him till she died. She wouldn't have married Anakin at all.

I'm not saying she was perfect but neither was Anakin and Obi-Wan. Everyone in the prequels has at least one fatal flaw because it is ultimately a tragedy. Padme is not a caricature of Leia (who is badass in her own way) and neither is Anakin a caricature of Luke. Their personalities and roles are not and shouldn't be interchangeable. But the retconned versions of the characters do feel like they are. Padme is more like Leia and TCW Anakin is a weird mix of Luke and Han. I get that they may seem more likeable to the masses but it should not come at the cost of their originality. Just like we don't have to be likable and perfect all the time in real life to have a purpose, I wish they acknowledged that in media as well than simply going for what sells. Even a trilogy on Padme feels like an apology as it addresses and "fixes" any complaint against her and is more about Sabe and giving her a new love interest rather than expanding and working on her existing character. I mean it does expand on her but it's not always consistent with her personality in the movies and its novelizations. I remember finding Padme in QS to be very unlikable and cold. Which she isn't at all. Her traits that Leia mentions was important even before her character was designed because that's how she impacted the main story and its a part of her legacy because that's how the people she loved remembered her. Making her more stoic makes no sense. Leia on the other hand has a different narrative and would benefit from the traits because it aligns with her goals. For sure, Padme was accomplished as well but the tone while handling her and portrayal of her character should have been consistent. She can't just be the Princess Leia of the prequels. And I may be reading too much into this but the first movie establishes she's not going to be just like her daughter. She isn't born into royalty, rather she's elected. She doesn't marry the older rebellious guy she banters with. Instead, she grows up to marry a younger boy who has a crush on her and who's very kind and sweet to. The same way Anakin is not a naive, sheltered boy living with his family. He is a slave and has a difficult childhood despite growing up on the same planet as his son!

As for Ahsoka, I guess Filoni was too attached to her and she was a blank slate to work with so they can do whatever with her. I talked about my feelings on her multiple times so I won't elaborate but her existence in the skywalker saga makes no sense to me. I would've been cool with her as a spinoff character. But I dislike that she was treated as something special and exempted from everything from the start without earning that privilege in any way. Meanwhile, poor Anakin is treated more strictly when he's just 10 and receives no special treatment despite being the Chosen One. Also, she's shoehorned everywhere in Anakin's story when she played no part in the peak moments of Anakin's life (as shown in the movies).

#ask #padme amidala #anti ahsoka tano #padme naberrie #padmé amidala

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d3sertdream3r · 7 months

Note

I really liked the Ahsoka show but it also felt kinda weird to me idk what did you think of it?

I have the same feeling as you, anon. Overall I liked the show, but I didn’t love it. There was a lot going on mythically/symbolically, but it didn’t all land narratively for me.

First of all, there was a big Lack of Backstory™ problem going on through the whole thing.

There was a lot of telling and not nearly enough showing. Ahsoka and Sabine are supposed to be the emotional heart of the story, but we don’t know anything about their history besides vague references.

We see in the first couple of episodes how much Sabine loves Ezra, but the general audience doesn’t have a clue who he is and once she finds him, it’s just business as usual. Their hug was great but for those who don’t know their backstory (and even people who do), it doesn’t really hit emotionally because there wasn’t enough time spent on showing their relationship in live action and them getting to know each other again after a decade apart.

We didn’t learn anything about why Morgan is so desperate to bring Thrawn back despite the fact that the Empire eradicated her people. We didn’t learn anything about how they knew each other before he was yeeted to another galaxy.

We don’t know much about Baylan and Shin’s relationship either. They’re cool and mysterious, and that’s about it. He tells her he trained her to be something more and then decides to leave her on her own in the very next episode to take her place in the new Empire. Why wouldn’t he take her with him if he wanted her to be something more?

I understand that this is part of a larger story, but every season of any show should have solid character arcs that tie into their series character arcs. I just personally didn’t feel like the character arcs were developed enough this season, largely due to Filoni not delving into anybody’s motivations beyond surface level.

I think having flashbacks between Ahsoka/Sabine and Ezra/Sabine would’ve helped a ton. It also would’ve been a good idea to have a Rebels recap at the beginning of the first episode for those that didn’t watch the show. Kenobi had a Prequel recap that was gorgeously edited and summed everything up before diving in.

As far as the cast:

EMAN ESFANDI IS THE LOVE MY LIFE!!! I adored every single scene he was in, every single mannerism and facial expression he made, his smile gives me butterflies, and his curls are to die for.

Natasha as Sabine was really good, but her character needs work. She didn’t translate nearly as well as Ezra did into live action imo, which is not Natasha’s fault at all. It was 100% a writing problem for me. The first two episodes nailed her character, but as the series progressed she started to flatten out.

Rosario feels really stiff to me. I don’t know if it’s her or the writing or both. I’m not familiar with much of her work, so I can’t really say. She just seemed really apathetic about everything despite her dialogue saying otherwise. I really love Ahsoka, so I hope her live action portrayal gets better, whatever the issue is!

Hera was given crumbs, but MEW absolutely crushed it! I’ve seen a lot of people complain about her portrayal, but I thought it was amazing. I need to see more of her immediately!!

Lars is spectacular as Thrawn, but the writing didn’t quite make him as intimidating as he was in Rebels. I want to see Lars get to chew the scenery in the future!

Other thoughts:

I feel like the Baylan/Shin dynamic is kind of what Maul and Ezra would’ve had if Maul found Ezra before Kanan did. I really hope they expand on that, especially since it was mentioned twice that Ezra is like Shin. It’s super interesting!

I want to know why Thrawn is so pro-Empire without any mention of the Ascendancy. I hope they don’t turn Thrawn into a generic mustache-twirling villain. He isn’t AT ALL, and that’s the main reason he’s a fan favorite in the first place.

I need Ezra to be in every Star Wars project going forward! I can’t wait to see him interact with all the other characters in the Mando Era!!

Anakin was awesome, but I needed him to have a deeper conversation with Ahsoka considering the last time they each other, he tried to kill her.

I need Leia and Ahsoka to interact, or at least a reference that they know each other! Ahsoka telling Luke and Leia about their parents (especially their mother) is really important to me!

Jacen is the cutest! Ezra and Jacen are going to be the most cinnamon roll master and apprentice duo of all time!!

PISSED THEY CUT BEFORE HERA AND EZRA COULD HUG!! WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL!!!

WHERE IS ZEB?? IS HE SAFE?? IS HE ALRIGHT??

#Damn this got long lol #star wars #ahsoka series #ezra bridger #sabine wren #hera syndulla #jacen syndulla #ahsoka tano #thrawn #dave filoni #shin hati #baylan skoll #anon #star wars rebels

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dystopicjumpsuit · 7 months

Text

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 5

Deliberate Disguises

Rating: T (rating varies by chapter; mature content will be tagged; regardless of rating, minors DNI)

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 2.4k

Warnings: boundary stepping; use of alcohol as a coping mechanism; questionable fashion choices

Suggested Listening:

Summary: Echo and Cerra go on a supply run. Rex plans a recon mission.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings and "Do It Again," but all three fics can be read as stand-alones.

Let me also wear such deliberate disguises

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

Echo observed Cerra curiously as she piloted the speeder toward the first stop of their supply run. He had overheard her conversation with Rex the day they’d brought Fireball to the shop, thanks to his cranial implant, and he had expected her to object to his presence. He’d been surprised when she didn’t pick up the argument again, though he did notice that she exchanged a quick glance with Gregor when Echo joined her in the speeder. The commando hadn’t said a word; merely smiled and handed Cerra a travel mug.

She sipped from it as she drove, and from the pleased expression on her face, Echo suspected that Gregor had gotten her caf just the way she liked. Privately, Echo wondered how her heart was still beating, given her caffeine intake. If he drank half as much caf as she did, he would vibrate out of his prosthetics.

The silence stretched out between them, and Echo cast about for something—anything—to say.

“Sooo. Supply officer?” he finally asked. When she’d mentioned her military service to Fireball, it had answered a few of Echo’s unasked questions about her.

“Yep. Stationed on the Resolute until it was destroyed at Sullust, and then reassigned to the Ro-ti-Mundi.”

“Is that where you met Fives?” he asked curiously.

She laughed for the first time since he’d met her.

“He came in and submitted an official request for a crate of candy to boost morale,” she said. “I told him it would never get approved, but he was insistent. He came back, week after week, and filled out the official request form every single time. I sent them all in, and they always got denied. Finally, I just paid for it myself and had it delivered with my personal effects. I told him somebody down the line must have approved the request by accident.”

“That was you?” Echo gaped.

“Don’t tell me Fives dragged you into it, too!”

Echo shook his head. “I knew he had a crush on a supply officer and made up some excuse to keep seeing her. He never expected the candy to get approved. That’s why he picked it in the first place. He figured he could keep seeing you indefinitely if he kept requesting something impossible.”

“That’s ARC trooper material,” she smiled.

She looked younger when she smiled. Less severe. Pretty. He wondered if she had always been as withdrawn and dour as she was now, or if she had been happier and livelier before the galaxy had gone to absolute shit.

“You know, he distributed that candy to the entire legion,” Echo said.

“I know,” she said. “I had to keep ordering more to keep up with demand. I’m glad you two were off the Resolute by the battle of Sullust. If anyone on the Ro-ti-Mundi had found out about his little black market operation, I’d have gone bankrupt before the war ended.”

Echo considered this quietly for a moment. “That was very generous of you,” he said. “Thank you.”

She shrugged uncomfortably. “I was happy to do it. It was a small thing in the end.”

“But it meant a lot to all of us clones,” Echo said.

They lapsed into silence for a while as Cerra piloted them to their first stop. She parked the speeder, but before they disembarked, she spoke again in a low voice.

“He came to the supply office one last time, after Kamino,” she said. “He told me he was leaving for ARC training. That was the first time I kissed him.”

Echo’s brain skidded to a halt, and he gaped at her. “You were a couple?”

“Not right away. I didn’t see him again until after the Citadel.”

“Kriff,” Echo breathed.

“We stayed in touch. He commed me after Sullust to make sure I’d made it off the Resolute. He wanted me to meet you the next time he had shore leave. He said—he said he didn’t want to wait, that he’d realized we might not have time.”

“I’m so sorry,” Echo said.

“Me, too,” she replied.

And with that, she stood and led Echo to the first of many supply stops for the day. They did not speak about Fives again.

Cerra’s supply chain seemed to comprise the seediest black-market dealers imaginable. Echo wanted to ask how she’d managed to build a network of such dodgy connections given her respectable military family, but she seemed to regret her brief moment of openness, and he suspected she was unlikely to repeat it.

Their last stop of the day ended in the two of them sprinting out of a squalid alley at top speed as one of her associates—er, make that former associates—unleashed a firestorm of blaster bolts at them.

“Does that happen often?” Echo asked once they safely zoomed away in the speeder.

“More often that Rex knows,” Cerra said with a shrug. “Don’t tell him about it. He’ll be insufferable if he finds out.”

Back at the garage, Cerra unloaded the supplies and set to restocking their inventory of food, medicine, weapons, and ammunition. She worked alone, grateful for the solitude. She had cursed herself for confiding in Echo almost as soon as she opened her stupid mouth. She’d let Gregor talk her into it, but the conversation hadn’t made her feel any better. She just felt tired and overwrought. She hurried to finish unpacking the supplies, hoping that she could sneak off early to the barracks and get some rest.

Unfortunately, Rex found her first. Steeling herself for a lecture, she turned to face him, but to her surprise, he didn’t mention the small skirmish that Echo had pulled her out of. What he said was much worse.

“You up for a reconnaissance mission at 79’s?” he asked.

“What?” she asked sharply, panic lacing her voice. “No.”

It was one thing to spend all her time with Rex, Gregor, and now Echo. Rex was just Rex; she’d known him before she ever met Fives, and with his blond hair and clean-shaven face, the similarity wasn’t too striking, most of the time. She’d had plenty of time to get used to Gregor, and Echo had been through so many physical changes that he barely looked like a clone at all any more. But to go to 79’s—a gathering place for men who looked and sounded exactly like Fives—was unthinkable. She’d spent countless evenings at the club with Fives, Tup, Jesse, and Kix. She’d lost every single one of them, and she did not want to confront those memories. Not only that, but it was one of the last places Fives had gone before he was murdered.

“We need to know if our activities are drawing any unwanted attention,” he said. “If the clones are talking about it, we’ll hear it at 79’s.”

“I know you’re too recognizable, but why send me?” she asked, feeling her breath begin to spiral and struggling to bring it back under control. “Why not send Echo or Gregor? I can’t do it, Rex.”

“You’ll have to. Echo will draw too much attention,” Rex said. “And clones are more likely to run their mouths around a pretty woman than a trooper they don’t know. But Gregor will be going with you for backup. You’ll enter separately, and he’ll keep his distance unless things go sideways.”

Cerra swallowed thickly. “I guess I’d better comm Rafa and ask if I can raid her closet.”

“Sure, I’ll let our roommate know you’re going to stop by so she doesn’t call the Corries. Wear whatever you want; it’s not like I’m using it,” Rafa said, her voice crackly and indistinct over the commlink

“Thanks, Rafa. I owe you one,” Cerra said.

“I just have one condition.”

“And what’s that?” Cerra asked with a sinking feeling.

“Send me a hologram to prove that you actually wore a dress,” Rafa laughed. “This I have to see.”

“I wear dresses,” Cerra said, stung. “I mean, I’ve worn dresses. Before. You know, during my lifetime.”

“Sure, sure,” Rafa said skeptically.

Cerra grumbled as she ended the comm.

“Gregor, I need you to help me pick something out,” she said. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve been interested in a man that I don’t remember how to dress for them.”

“Well, this should be entertaining,” he giggled as they drove to the Martez sisters’ flat.

“Pick something stretchy, or I'll never be able to squeeze into it,” Cerra said. “And make sure it’s long enough to cover my scars.”

“Do they bother you that much?” he asked curiously.

“No, but if anyone is going to recognize a shrapnel scar, it’s going to be a bar full of clone troopers, and I don’t want to have to explain it,” she said.

“Fair enough,” he acknowledged. “At least stretchy is an option for you. I feel like I'm going to bust out of this jacket if I breathe too deep.”

Gregor was wearing an officer’s gray uniform that Rex had gotten from Force alone knew where. It strained tightly across his shoulders and chest, and it hung baggily around his waist. Clone commandos were quite literally built differently from the regular troopers due to their enhanced muscle mass, and it was nearly impossible to find a uniform that would fit him properly.

While Gregor rifled through Rafa’s closet, Cerra did her best to apply makeup. When she was younger, she’d been decent at it, but her skills were rusty with disuse, and the process ended up taking longer than she expected. She surveyed the results with ambivalence. It wasn’t bad, per se, but the face looking back at her from the mirror did not look like her own.

Maybe that’s a good thing, she thought. Less chance of being recognized.

Gregor had completed his assignment well before Cerra finished getting ready, and he was lounging on Rafa’s bed while he waited for her, sipping from a flask. He had selected a skimpy metallic dress, a fur jacket that Cerra sincerely hoped was fake, and a pair of ridiculously impractical high heels.

“Get your damned boots off the blankets, you heathen,” Cerra said as she unzipped her coveralls and stepped out of them.

Gregor smirked and flopped onto his back to stare at the ceiling while she changed. It was a sweet gesture, though this was hardly the first time he’d seen her in her undergarments; the whole team shared the barracks, after all, and she’d lost any sense of modesty when she was in basic training. She shimmied into the dress and turned her back to him.

“Zip me up?” she asked.

His warm fingers barely brushed against her skin as he cautiously eased the zipper upwards, careful not to pinch her. She turned to inspect her reflection. She glowered as she realized she wouldn’t be able to wear her bra with the outfit, then unclasped the bra and slipped it off without removing the dress.

“That’s a neat trick,” Gregor said, watching her with interest.

“Want me to teach you how to do it?” Cerra asked.

“Maybe some other time.” He frowned and looked searchingly into her eyes. “You good to do this mission?”

“What choice do I have?” Cerra asked.

“We could make Rex wear the dress and heels and send him in,” Gregor suggested. “Or I could just stun him for you.”

“Tempting, but not today,” Cerra said. She picked up the high heels and shot Gregor a disgruntled look. “How the kark am I supposed to run, let alone fight, in these stupid shoes?”

“You won’t need to, because I’ll be there to watch your back. All you have to do is not fall on your face,” he said. He passed her his flask of mystery liquor, and she took a healthy sip or three, wincing at the sharp burn.

“Kriff, that’s awful.” She sighed and scrubbed a hand over her shaved head. “Do you think I should wear a wig?”

“Nope,” he said, handing her a pair of large, ornate earrings. “Just put these on. You look hot as kark.”

She looked dubiously at her reflection. “I don’t know, Gregor.”

“Trust me,” he said. “Or if you want to test it out, let’s stop by the garage on the way to 79’s. If Fireball’s eyes don’t pop out of his head, I’ll buy the first round.”

Fireball’s eyes did not, in fact, pop out of his head, but they did bulge gratifyingly when Cerra walked into the repair shop, forcing herself to strut with a confidence she was far from feeling. Rex merely surveyed her impassively, but Echo’s mouth dropped open.

Ha. Still got it. The warmth from Gregor’s liquor began to spread through her body, and she felt a small glimmer of optimism that maybe, possibly, she might actually be able to pull this mission off.

“Did you get the comms installed in the earrings?” Rex asked Gregor.

“Yes, and the holocam is in my rank insignia plaque,” Gregor said. “We should test them before we go.”

Rex fiddled with a datapad. “Go ahead.”

Gregor slid his hand across Cerra’s lower back and pulled her in close. Her eyes nearly drifted closed as his familiar, comforting scent washed over her. His breath fanned warmly against her neck, sending a wave of prickling awareness down her spine as he whispered in her ear. “Give us a twirl, babygirl. Fireball wants a show.”

Across the shop, Gregor’s voice crackled loud and clear from Rex’s datapad, and Fireball choked audibly. Cerra punched Gregor’s shoulder.

“Stop torturing the new kid, asshole,” she said. “And don’t call me babygirl. You can’t pull it off.”

Her voice echoed from the datapad, and Fireball looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole as his gaze darted back and forth between Cerra and Gregor.

“He’ll live,” Gregor scoffed. “He’s just shocked to see this spectacular body you’ve been hiding under those coveralls. And I can absolutely pull off babygirl.”

“Cut the chatter,” Rex ordered, his voice tinny and distorted through the comm in her earring. “It’s time.”

Cerra rolled her eyes and sauntered out to hail a cab, while Gregor just shot Rex an impudent grin and a lazy salute. He took the speeder bike and arrived at 79’s before Cerra, as they’d planned. Her mouth went dry and her pulse spiked as she crossed the landing platform to the club’s entrance, where dance music blasted at a deafening volume. As she approached, the throbbing bass vibrated up her legs and buzzed in her chest, the sensation making her feel disoriented and ill. Wishing she could have another shot of Gregor’s liquid courage, she took a deep, steadying breath, and pushed through the doors.

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