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slaybestieslay946 · 2 months

Note

Hey! I love ur blog and I saw ur accepting requests for luke castellan, (I’ve never requested a fic before so I’m sorry if I’m doing this wrong lol)

Could I have a fic where reader comes to camp in the middle of the night after getting attacked by monster(doesn’t matter which monster) but after they’re in camp and moved into the Hermes cabin they’re distant and angry because theyre pissed off at the world and the gods. Luke being luke though doesn’t give up on trying to make the reader feel at home and tries his hardest to get them out of their shell. UNTIL reader gets claimed by Zeus and gets moved to the lonely Cabin 1 and can’t sleep so they go back to Hermes cabin and Luke lets them sleep in his bunk w him and fluffy ending of such

Damn that was a lot it’s totally ok if u don’t want to do this!

Thank you!!!

I really love this idea, and I'm so glad you love my blog! Hope you enjoy!

Mystery Girl

MASTERLIST

word count: 2700

pairing: luke castellan x zeus!reader

warnings: minor depictions of violence, readers kind of a bitch but like not really.

a/n: reader is so unbothered i kinda aspire to be her

Late at night, you stumbled through the camp's threshold, leaning on Aspen, your protector. He was equally leaning into you, and you couldn’t tell whose blood it was soaking threw your shirt, yours, or his.

You could see a few buildings at the bottom of the hill, and a few of them had lights on.

“Help, please!” You shouted, weakly raising your arm to catch some sort of attention.

Aspen did the same, his exclamations a mix of real words and pained bleats.

Eventually, people began emerging from the buildings, rubbing their eyes in exhaustion, trying to work out what was going on. You and Aspen continued to shout for help, shuffling slowly down the hill, praying that you wouldn’t bleed out before you reached the bottom.

Finally, someone seemed to realise you were in trouble, and a boy about your age began jogging up the hill towards you. His face was mostly calm, and he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, halting when he saw the blood on your clothes and the used spear in your hand.

You instinctively let go of Aspen, and rushed forward to seek help.

“Please, help me.” You pleaded desperately, losing your balance and stumbling forwards towards him.

“Alright, alright.” He said, catching you by the arm and holding you steady, before shouting down at the campers below, “These two need to get to the infirmary! Someone wake the Apollo cabin, yeah?!”

He then turned back to you, holding you steady by the arms and trying to assess the damage.

“It’s alright, yeah? You’re safe now, we just gotta get these cuts checked out, hm?”

You tried to nod, but found you couldn’t move your head, or your body. You tried to speak, tried to tell him that Aspen needed help too, but your mouth couldn’t move either.

And then your vision went black.

When you woke up, you thought you were in heaven. It smelt nice, homely. Not that you really knew that home was supposed to smell like.

It was warm too, and you felt yourself sighing contentedly. If this really was heaven, then you didn’t mind being there all that much.

After a while, you decided it was time to open your eyes, maybe go and explore the afterlife.

But when you tried to sit up, you felt a sharp jolt of pain that snapped you back to reality. You let out a small hiss in discomfort, lowering yourself back into the bed.

Slowly, the memories began to come back to you, leaving school, Aspen forcing you onto a road trip, nearly getting killed by a monster, and finally passing out on the hill of a ‘camp’.

Heaven sounded preferable.

You took in the room. It seemed like any old house, a dresser in the corner along with a wardrobe and old floral wallpaper that even covered the ceiling. Until you noticed another bed beside yours, with Aspen asleep on it, and one beside his.

You remembered the words of that boy who’d run to you, and you figured this must be the infirmary.

“Hey, Aspen.” You whispered, turning your head to the side and trying to ignore the sting of your injuries.

“Aspen!” You called again, raising your voice, but still he didn’t hear you. He must still be asleep. Lucky bastard.

You huffed, sinking fully back into the pillows and waiting for someone to arrive. Thankfully, it didn’t take long, and soon enough a young boy was coming in, holding several canisters of liquid.

“Oh, you’re awake,” He grinned, “How’s the pain?”

“Bad.” You replied, groaning at the thought.

He chuckled, “Not surprising. You got some nasty scratches from that monster. Here, drink some of this, it’ll fix you up.”

He offered one of the canisters to you, and you took it, regarding it with a certain amount of suspicion.

“What’s this?”

“Nectar. It’ll help, trust me.”

You relented, deciding that it was worth the risk if it would get rid of some of the throbbing in your back.

And he was right, almost immediately, you felt soothed, and as you drank more, you began to feel energised, like you could conquer the world.

“What did you say this was? Nectar?”

“Yep. Food of the gods.”

“Where’d you get this stuff?”

“Oh, we get shipments from Olympus every month. You won’t find that at your local grocery store.”

“Woah, woah, woah.” You held up your hands to stop him for a minute, “What do you mean Olympus?”

The boy's eyes widened, and some kind of realisation struck him.

“I don’t think I should be the one to break this to you.”

Just a few hours later, everything had been explained to you, and you were kicked out of the so-called ‘Big House’. Nice of them to do that, considering a centaur had just dropped the bombshell that you were the child of an ancient Greek god.

To be fair though, you probably should have clocked that something was up when you were being chased by a mythical beast, but then again, you did have your hands full.

Now, you were sitting on the front steps of the porch, waiting for some kid to show you round the camp.

“Hey, mystery girl! Good to see you’re feeling better.” A voice called out, and you looked up to see the very same boy who had come to your aide on the hill.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I’m all good.”

“Cool. Nice to meet you, by the way. I’m Luke.”

“Y/N.”

“Right, so, I’ll start the tour.” He declared, flashing you another bright grin which you feebly returned.

He started the tour off at the dining pavilion, then showed you the amphitheatre, then the strawberry fields, the archery range and the lake.

Finally, he introduced you to each of the cabins, skipping over the empty cabins 1, 2 and 3.

“And this,” He gestured to the eleventh cabin, “Will be where you’re staying.”

“Woah.” You said, stepping back, “What do you mean staying? I can’t stay here.”

He looked at you blankly, “You don’t really have much of a choice, mystery girl.”

“Yeah, I do. I can leave whenever I want, you can’t do anything about it.”

“You wanna get killed by a monster? Because if I remember right, you came awfully close a few days ago. That’s why you can’t leave.”

“Well I guess I’ll just have to take that chance. Appreciate the tour and everything, but I’m going.” You then turned on your heel and began to walk away.

There was no chance in hell you were staying in this camp, and if it had to be over your dead body, then so be it.

However, your desertion was halted by Luke grabbing you by the hand and pulling you back.

“I’m not kidding, Y/N. You’ll die as soon as you step past that barrier. Just,” He sighed, seemingly exasperated, “Stay for one night. It’s not that bad here once you get used to it.”

You glared up at him, weighing your options. He seemed pretty serious about this.

“And you can’t leave Aspen when he’s still in critical condition?”

That broke your resolve.

“Fine. I’ll stay until Aspen wakes up. Show me my bunk.”

He grinned, and turned back to Cabin 11, showing you inside.

Turns out, Aspen waking up wouldn’t be such a close deadline as you thought. As it turned out, he’d been hit by some kind of poisonous claw from the monster, and had been put into some kind of coma.

So now, as prior to your agreement with Luke, you were stuck here until he woke up. Which could be next week, or next year for all you knew.

And yeah, you felt bad for the guy ‘cause he was in a coma, but it was seriously messing up your plans of leaving camp.

Because you hated camp.

The Hermes cabin stunk, and it was constantly noisy. Probably because there were so many people in there all the damn time.

You also sucked at most of the stuff around camp.

You weren’t exactly nurturing, so it was a no to the infirmary and the strawberry fields. You were an awful shot, and when you had a go in the forges you dropped a mallet on your foot. You were still recovering from that one.

It seemed the only thing you were even slightly good at was fighting, mainly with the staff Aspen had lent you during the fight with the monster outside camp. Still, you weren’t great, unlike Luke who had insisted on taking you under his wing.

He sat with you at every dinner and breakfast, and always seemed to be there when you turned a corner, or found a moment of peace.

Yes, it was very kind of him to try and settle you in, but it was pretty futile, considering all you had wanted to do ever since you woke up was leave, consequences be damned.

The one saving grace to your boredom was capture the flag. Luke had told you about it on your first day, and it was a game you remembered playing as a kid, and really enjoying. Apparently they ran a game every month, and this coming Sunday would be your first time playing.

The day of the game arrived, and for the first time in your two weeks at camp, you were in a decently good mood, and of course, Luke took notice of this.

“What’s got you so happy, mystery girl?”

“Nothing. Besides, why do you keep calling me that, you know my name now, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but you're just so private and mysterious. I’m surprised you even told me your name.”

“I wish I didn’t, Castellan, maybe you wouldn’t be here to bug me all the time.”

“Ouch, don’t be like that. You know I’m great company really.”

You didn’t reply to that, instead rolling your eyes at him and returning to the task of tightening your armour, struggling a bit with the straps.

Luke quickly came to your aid, much to your chagrin, helping you adjust the breastplate so it fit properly.

“Thanks.” You sighed reluctantly, quickly stepping away from him to grab your spear.

“No problem.”

Soon, the game was well underway, and you quickly realised that you had been given possibly the most boring job, that being guarding the perimeter. Not that you could really blame your team leaders, you were the newest member and logically the most inexperienced. But still, you’d been hoping for something a little more exciting.

Every now and then you heard the odd shout further on in the woods and raised your spear, but you never actually caught sight of anyone from the opposing team. Or your team for that matter.

You really had been given the short straw.

After another hour of standing there, you were about ready to quit all of this completely, throw off your armour and escape camp, agreement with Luke be damned, that was until you heard hurried footsteps, and someone panting heavily coming from behind you.

You quickly whipped around, to see a girl from the Ares cabin, holding your flag, standing about 50 feet away.

Then you heard another step of footsteps, and there was Luke, around the same distance away, holding the opposing team's flag.

You really didn’t want to be caught in the middle of something this exciting.

They both began to run towards the threshold at top speed, and you stayed standing between them, unsure of what to do. Should you step back and let Luke do his thing, or should you step in to stop the girl. She looked pretty terrifying.

You whipped your head side to side, continuing to debate, and in the midst of your dilemma, you realised the girl was much closer to you than Luke was. Fuck.

You had to stop her somehow, but you obviously could just slash blindly at her, you didn’t want to behead her.

And then, suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree, falling directly in her path, and she leapt back to avoid it, stumbling and also falling to the floor.

Luke kept running, swerving around the fallen tree and onto your team's territory, cheering as the red flag shimmered and turned blue, and the conch sounded.

You quickly ran over to the girl, clambering over the tree in an effort to help her up.

She looked up at you in shock and confusion, but her eyes seemed to be focused on the space just about your head.

“What’s wrong?”

She pointed above you, “He claimed you.” She stuttered out.

You looked to where she was pointing, and saw a lightning bolt shining above your head.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

Of course you had to be Zeus’ kid. Just your luck, a forbidden child, with some stupid prophetic destiny.

If you ever met your father, you’d be sure to give him an earful about his part in your conception.

Almost immediately after capture the flag, you were announced to the camp by Chiron, and then promptly herded into the empty cabin 1.

And you never thought you’d say it, but you missed cabin 11. Sure, it was a mess, and the kids in there didn’t know how to shut up, but at least it had some semblance of life, unlike your new home. It was barren, and empty, and you hated it.

It was even worse now that you had your own permanent bed. Before you’d had at least a pipedream of leaving camp and going off on your own again, but now that was entirely gone. Chiron would never let you out of his sight ever again, not now that you were a child of the ‘Big Three’. You were so screwed.

You tossed and turned for hours in bed, unable to sleep in the unfamiliar environment, and, strangely, uncomfortable with the crushing loneliness you felt.

You’d never felt lonely before. Your whole life, you’d been pretty much alone, but that was by choice. This time it was by force, and you felt isolated from everyone else at camp. Suddenly you regretted your refusal to make friends.

So, your feet naturally carried you to the only person you could kind of call a friend, and you weren’t surprised when you landed outside Luke Castellan’s window.

You gave it a light tap, and he opened his eyes, giving you a sad smile as he saw your face through the window. It looked like he hadn’t slept at all either.

“Can I come in?” You mouthed through the window, and he quickly nodded, reaching up to open it and let you in.

“Thanks,” You whispered, stepping down onto the hardwood floor.

“No problem. Having trouble sleeping?” He asked, patting the spot beside him. You gladly sat down.

“Uh, yeah. It’s really empty there.”

“Hm, sure is. You sure you didn’t just miss me too much?”

“Maybe I did Castellan.” You declared, shrugging your shoulders as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world to say.

“I’m sorry though, Luke. I’ve been kind of an asshole ever since I got here.” You said, looking down at your muddy shoes.

“Hey, I get it. It’s an adjustment, that’s for sure. I’ve dealt with worse from newcomers.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

“Anytime.”

You both fell silent for a moment, listening to the snores of the kids around you before he piped up again.

“Hey, I don’t mind you staying here tonight if you want?” He said, his voice slightly awkward. You paid it no mind.

“I’d like that.”

He moved to the other side of the bed as you removed your shoes, rolling onto the bed beside him.

You were both silent again for a while, until Luke’s voice yet again came from beside you.

“I’m gonna have to come up with a new name for you now, huh?”

“What, I’m not mysterious anymore?” You asked, feigning offence.

“Not now that we’re best buddies. I’m thinking… Sparky!”

“That is god awful.”

“Exactly.”

You snickered under your breath at his idiotic sense of humour, and allowed yourself to sink into the bed beside him.

And for the first time, you didn’t want to leave.

#fanfic #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #writing #pjo #luke castellan #fluff #x reader

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maraudersmyloves · 2 months

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─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Pairing: Luke Castellan x reader

Warnings: Reader has long enough hair to be put in a clip, kissing, slight Loser!Luke shining trough

Word count: 1.3k

Disclaimer 1: Everything on this Blog is fiction!!!

Disclaimer 2: Made this by listening to harry styles

"Hot summer Nights". :☆｡ﾟ. ───

You can't find your banana clip. You were so sure that you put it on your bed but you just can't find it. Now, every other day you would just put your hair in a ponytail or claw clip but today isn't any other day and your hair looks so long and voluminous in it so you can't help but freak out over it. You and your mom should've left five minutes ago but at this point, it was expected for you two to be at least 20 minutes late. It's not like you're mom's friend minded. You did though, because you may harbor a small crush on Luke, your mom's friend's son, and showing up later means less time with him. While you see him every summer, for some reason you two only talk at events your mom drags you to, not that you mind anymore.

You could easily go up to him at camp but he was always busy and you often got swept away from your own friends, forgetting that you even wanted to talk to him. Only when you get home and your mom tells you about an event, this time her friend's birthday, do you feel your stomach erupt in butterflies. You spent days planning your outfit, taking this as an opportunity to make him remember you at camp and come up to you.

Oh, gods you sounded desperate. You didn't really have a reason to be, with all the boys fawning over you at camp, getting asked out on the daily with bad pick-up lines that get played off as jokes and flowers that you truly appreciate. Still, you double-check your appearance in the full-length mirror next to your pink bed, overloaded with pillows. The outfit is a combination of all the items you usually get compliments on. A short jean skirt that perfectly hugs your hips and has some light fraying at the bottom, paired with a square-necked black crop top that you were told looks especially good on you. You're wearing Mary janes that are slightly covered by your white leg warmers that have a matching cardigan. You do look good, but it would be perfect with the missing clip

You want to start the search again but your mom calling your name interrupts you and you leave your room with a last scan to see if the goddess of luck, Tyche might just be on your side. Luckily, she is and you see it on the top of your lamp for some reason.

You can hear your mom mutter something about your skirt when you step out the door but she's too stressed to get there on time to give your lecture, which you quite honestly bet on when picking out the outfit. Your mom is dressed in a long flowing dress that looks really pretty. You tell her as much and she gives you a small smile while getting in the car. Your mom has put on the radio as she always does while you're watching the city wash away around you.

You and your mom don't share a word just doing your respective and sometimes singing along to some classics on the radio and before you know it you've arrived.

When you walk in it's the usual mix of giving me compliments, making comments about how you've grown so much, hugs, kisses, and what they think is subtle judging. For a second you debate if you should've worn jeans but judging by the way you could feel Luke's eyes on you all throughout the greetings and small talk, it was worth it. When you finally find the time to walk towards him he has a little blush, from you or the sun, on his cheeks.

The first minutes between you two are always awkward and filled with people coming up to you two and talking about how you haven't changed a bit and telling childhood stories and habits you two used to have. Apparently Luke used to push you on your little wooden horse chair when you complained about the fact that it wouldn't move. She shows you pictures of the two of you at around six and reminisces in memories you've already heard at least 30 times, before getting pulled away by her husband who insists she has to try the meat he just grilled.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

You and Luke have managed to sneak off to the roof with a bottle of champagne that gets passed between you two. "He should have stayed a planet," Luke argues after you somehow went from annoying parent to planets, to if Pluto should have stayed one. "No Luke, he isn't big enough to orbit properly it would be stupid to let him be one anyway." He passes you the bottle, purposely letting your fingers brush, while thinking how to argue against that, without getting distracted by the way his name sounds wrapped around your tongue, before sighing and stating that he simply doesn't care about stupid planet requirements and that Pluto shouldn't feel left out. You giggle causing him to look at you with stars in his eyes.

He loves your laugh and the way your eyes crinkle and sparkle with Humor. He hates that you don't talk to him at camp and he knows he could change that by simply going up to you and talking or even just holding eye contact but there are so many boys fawning over you and he's pretty sure he doesn't stand a single chance. You're so pretty, especially tonight with your mini skirt he just can't rip his eyes from, except of course when he stares at your glossy lips that he wishes he could kiss and bite at. He's doing it again as you speak, "He doesn't have real feelings, you know." "And how would you know, smartass" he teases causing you to lightly push away his grinning face while giggling. His cheek feels tingly where you touched it.

He pretends to have been hit by something as powerful as a minotaur and leans back to make it look as if he is about to fall off the Roof. You quickly grab his arm to pull him back towards you while he laughs. "Oh, fuck you. Don't scare me like that." As you realize how close you're hugging his arms to you you quickly let it while distracting yourself by looking at the ground.

"I'm sorry, my love."

my love

You look up at the Nickname, your eyes filled with something he can't quite decipher but beautiful still. Everything around you seems to slow down and his hand moves to your cheek as if it has free will. Your whole body is on fire as you ask, "My love," questioning if he meant it the way you wish he did. Instead of answering he leans close searching your eyes for allowance. When you nod, he connects your lips eagerly and lets his hand wander down your body before settling at your hips. You gasped in surprise, even though you knew what was coming actually feeling his pillowy lips on yours was completely different.

You sink your hands into his hair and tug slightly making him whimper. Your body gets swallowed by the warmth that sits around him like a halo and your body melts into his as if trying to turn into one single organism. He tries to pull you impossibly closer by the waist. You pull away for a second to take in a deep breath that feels like coming up from water full of life and colors and returning to the grey surface. You admire his flushed face. His Hair is tossled with your Hands still gripping his curls, and his Lips are swollen and look like you bit them, maybe you did, they're covered in your lipgloss and you smile placing a kiss on his cheek, leaving a mark. His Eyes are filled with stars as he looks at you. "We should do this again, sometime."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Luke's mom when she sees him with your lipstick on his cheek:

#luke castellan #fluff #headcanon #writing #fanfic #percy jackson #luke castellan x reader #camp half blood #luke castellan x you

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plushyluke · 4 months

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baby ✨

#luke hemmings #lrh #my gifs #luke gifs #swan gifs #ashton irwin #afi #calum hood #cth #5sos #lashton blog #bottom luke blog

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lucifersimp333 · 1 year

Text

The Sinning Angel

I'm sorry but i can't get enough of Simeon being a dirty little slut. Here's some smut so I can get my fill.

NSFW

18+ ONLY

MINORS DNI AND DO NOT READ. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

AGLESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

TW: Choking, slapping, hair pulling.

Reader has female anatomy.

(NOT MY ART, FOUND ON PINTERST. ARTIST IS @fishheadakiraakira GO FOLLOW! They're open for commission!)

When Simeon has a bad day, he tends to hide is emotions pretty well. You might not notice that this beautiful angel before you is filled with frustration, but you'll find out later tonight. Between Luke acting up with his attitude, schoolwork at RAD, and random tasks Michael has him do on the side, he is stretched thin and frustrated. Being an angel, he's obligated to behave a certain way, even on his worst days. Angels are supposed to be levelheaded, gentle, and selfless.

We all gotta be a little selfish at times, right? At least that's what he tells himself when he fucks you.

On frustrating days like today, Simeon will take out all his stress on your weeping pussy. He'll pin your legs to the sides of your head, ram his huge dick into your crying hole, and fuck your brains out. He'll ignore your pleasure filled whimpers, using the toned muscles to pin you to the bed to make sure you don't move an inch so you can take all of his dick.

As his balls slap against your ass while in missionary, Simeon grabs a handful of your hair and pulls your head up from the pillow so he can get a look at your beautiful face. He stares at you, watching how your face contorts in pleasure, mouth agape as you moan in his face. He puts his head forward and bites your bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth. He lets go of your head, causing it to fall back down on the pillow. He wraps both of his hands around your throat and squeezes, choking you as he pushes you down in to his thrusts to fuck you harder. There's something angelic about the way you look fighting for air below him.

On frustrating days like today, he feels that he always has to bend backwards for others, having little control over his decisions. When he fucks you on days like this, he wants to be in control. He knows that him being the cause of you struggling for air is a sin. He knows feeling your cream on his dick is a sin. He knows that filling you up with his cum is a sin, but sinning feels too good. Fuck being an angel, he'll sin with you for as long as he can. If he has to get kicked out of the Celestial Realm to release his hot sin into your heat, so be it.

" You are beautiful, MC. You love this dick, don't you?" he growls as you struggle for air, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes. Hanging on to your throat with his left hand, he cocks his arm back and smacks you across the face with his right. Your heat becomes flooded with your slick, creating even more beautifully wet noises than before.

He lets go of your throat and with you still on your back, he grabs your ankles and spreads your legs apart, spreading the lips of your heat. His gaze is fixed on your folds as your cream pools at the base of his dick. He lets go of one of your ankles and takes his thumb to rub circles on your clit. " O-oh Simeon!" you shout, gripping to the sheets above your head. " Cum with me, MC. Say my name louder" he grunts through his teeth, thrusting into you harder. After a few minutes, you are on the verge of your peak, but just not quite there yet. He cocks his arm back a second time and slaps you across the face. " I said cum for me! Say my name!" he orders.

You let out an ear piercing, messy moan as you reach your peak screaming his name, getting your slick all over the bed and his thighs. He fills you up with his hot, angelic cum and lays limp over your body, propping himself above you with his arms. He gives you a tired smile as he brushes where he slapped you with the back of his hand, soothing the red spot on your cheek.

He can live with the fact that he's your corrupted guardian angel. IF that means he can sin with you for the rest of your being, he'll take that title gladly.

#obey me smut #obey me simeon #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me simeon smut

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heliads · 1 year

Note

sorry to send in two requests but if you've got the time Luke Patterson x reader where she is his tutor for English or something and he develops a crush, so even when he understands the stuff she's teaching him he pretends to be confused so that the tutoring sessions last longer. And then one day he gets a good grade and she's proud of him but that means the sessions are over so he builds up the courage to ask her out? You can put this at the bottom of the list or not even write it because I know how swamped your requests get, but ily.

do not apologize for two requests!! my blog exists for you!! and jatp s2 may be dead but my feelings for that show are not. xoxo

masterlist

Luke Patterson is currently fighting a one-man war against his English class, and he is losing. Badly. This was not supposed to be his problem class, he was thinking the biggest struggle would be math or science, but surprise surprise, there’s no such thing as a class you can just skate through. He tried to skate through English. He tried really, really hard, but instead of Spark Notes-ing his way through whatever classic book they threw his way, Luke’s staring at a bright red D on his latest essay.

This would happen to be the most recent essay they were assigned, the one Luke pushed off until the last minute because he was too invested in getting some good songs down on paper. He hadn’t meant to procrastinate, he never does, it’s just that whenever Luke had a spare hour or two, it’s always far more tempting to head out to the studio and mess around with some chord progressions than to do homework.

This essay had gone just like all the other ones so far this year. The book had been assigned, the essay followed not soon after, and Luke told himself that he was going to start it on time for a change. The only problem was that he came home late that day after a shift at his job, so he couldn’t start it that day, and then he was studying for a test the next day, and after that he was working on songs. Before he knew it, it was the night before and he was speed writing to get everything down in time. Luke doesn’t even think he had time to proofread before turning in that mess.

So yeah, he shouldn’t really be surprised about this grade in particular. Still, he isn’t pleased about it. He doesn’t want to see the look on his parents’ face when he dodges another question about his grades, nor listen to all the other kids in his class talk about how easy that essay prompt was. Everything just makes him feel worse.

And, if Luke’s day couldn’t get any better, his English teacher pulls him aside after class to talk about it.

“I noticed your last few assignments haven’t been going as expected,” she says sympathetically, “is there anything you want to tell me about that?”

There’s a lot Luke wants to tell her, such as the fact that this class is dry as a saltine and twice as bland. They’ve spent the last few classes just going over social hierarchies around the time when the book was written, talk about boring. If Luke wanted to study history, he’d read a textbook.

He can’t say all that without damaging his final grade even more, though, so Luke plasters on a grin and does his best impression of an earnest student who’s just had a bad string of luck. “Not really, I’ve just been so busy recently that I didn’t have enough time to really ponder the prompt, you know?”

Usually, this is Luke’s best strategy for getting out of these kinds of nonsense conferences. He’ll whip out a few key words like ‘time commitments’ and whatnot and his teachers will fall for it every time.

He might have done this too often, though, because his teacher just nods and refuses to let him go. “That makes sense to me. Do you think it would help to spend a little more time exploring the prompt or connecting the book to the essay topics?”

“Sure,” Luke says vaguely. He’s only half paying attention; he just saw Reggie outside the door mouthing the words what did you do?? as dramatically as he could.

The teacher looks pleased by this. “That’s what I thought. I’ve gone ahead and signed you up for some tutoring sessions, you’ll start this afternoon after school.”

Luke blinks. “Wait, what?” Clearly, he hasn’t been paying attention nearly enough. Since when was tutoring on the table?

The teacher spreads her hands. “You need a little more help and organization to stay on track. Tutoring is the perfect answer to this.”

“Is it?” Luke asks feebly.

“Absolutely,” the teacher decides, and that’s that. Luke tries to wheedle his way out of it through repetition of how busy he is, like, all the time, but it doesn’t matter. She’s caught him in a half-lie and there’s nothing he can do to avoid it.

Reggie’s waiting for Luke outside the door when he finally leaves. “What happened in there?”

“Pure misery,” Luke groans, and contemplates giving himself a concussion by ‘accidentally’ falling down the stairs so he can go home without having to go to tutoring.

Unfortunately, Reggie enlists Alex in keeping Luke free of head trauma, and so he finds himself in an empty classroom later that afternoon, mournfully watching all of the other students leave the school with no doubt wonderful plans awaiting them.

Luke’s just starting to wonder if his tutor isn’t going to show up after all (after fifteen minutes, he’s legally allowed to leave, right) when someone slides into the seat in front of him.

“Sorry about being late,” they gasp, “I just found out I was doing this like ten minutes ago.”

Luke breaks his desolate stare out the window to glance at his tutor and instantly, he feels the crushing weight of shame bear down on him tenfold. It would have been one thing to have a total stranger be his tutor, someone Luke could avoid looking at in the hallways and never speak to again, but he knows this girl. More importantly, he’s thought she was cute for at least the last four years.

This is the worst case scenario, then. Y/N L/N is smart, she’s pretty, and judging by the fact that Luke always sees her in a group of friends laughing at her jokes, she’s funny, too. Definitely someone Luke would want to impress through gigs or shows instead of, say, his crumbling English grades.

“I’m Y/N,” she says, and Luke realizes that she’s probably been waiting for him to say something. Great, he can’t even introduce himself properly.

“Luke,” he answers, “but you probably knew that already.”

Y/N laughs, and judging by the slightly manic tone behind it, she’s just about as composed about the whole thing as he is. That makes him settle slightly in his chair, lowering his guard. “I was told that I would be tutoring you when I was trying to leave class. Ms. Brown pulled me aside when the bell rang and told me about it.”

“That makes two of us,” Luke grumbles.

The corners of Y/N’s lips quirk up before she manages to tamp them down again, and if Luke weren’t totally out of his mind, he might even say that Y/N has the same attitude towards their English teacher as he does. That would certainly make this whole tutoring experience a lot more interesting.

“So,” she says, clearing her throat in an attempt to sound official, “you wanted to talk about essay pointers, right?”

Luke starts to say something about how he didn’t want any of this, actually, but Y/N arches a brow and he relents. “Yeah, essay stuff. The last one didn’t go over too hot.”

Y/N tilts her head to the side, contemplating this. “Did you agree with her grading?”

“Yeah,” Luke admits, “she wasn’t wrong to mark me down, I kind of did it the night before in one sitting.”

Y/N frowns. “Really? Why’d you put it off so long? I thought you liked writing. Whenever I see you, you’re always jotting something down in that notebook of yours.”

Luke grins. “You’ve been watching me? That’s creepy, you know.” He’s obviously holding back a laugh, though, so the comment has no trace of a barb.

Y/N rolls her eyes, although her face looks a little hot at the moment. “Just answer the question.”

“Alright,” he says, hands raised in mock surrender, “you’re right, I do like writing.”

“Then why wait until the last minute to do the essay? I mean, I get not having a ton of time to work on assignments, but if you really do enjoy writing, it shouldn’t be all that bad, right?”

Luke groans. “ This is different. It’s not fun writing,” he tries to excuse himself.

It sounds bad even to him. Already, Luke can see how this is going to play out– she’ll laugh at him, maybe, say that someone who just got a grade like him can’t possibly be thinking about writing and fun in any way at all. She doesn’t, though. Instead, she nods and smiles at him. A real smile. Not mocking in any way.

“What is fun writing, then?” She asks.

Luke blinks in surprise. “Well, writing songs is fun, I guess,” he stammers, “stuff that actually matters, you know? All these essays are the exact same, but songs are all different. That’s why I care about them and not some pointless paper.”

Y/N nods. “That makes sense to me. So you release music, right?”

Luke isn’t sure where she’s going with this, but he’s perfectly happy to talk about music instead of that offensive red scribble all over his paper, so he plays along. “Yeah, me and my band. We try to, at least.”

“Have you ever gotten a review that bothered you? Not because they didn’t like it, but because they disliked your songs for the wrong reason? Like you had a whole story in mind for your album but the critics just ignored it?” She prompts him.

“Yeah,” Luke says, eyes widening with irritation, “Man, it’s so annoying. You go to all the trouble of writing out these ideas, and you make them have a really good meaning, too, and then it’s like they never read it at all. It makes me so mad sometimes, I want to write a column or something in response about how they totally missed my point.”

“Like, say, an argumentative essay about the real strengths of your chosen piece of writing?” Y/N says as casually as she can.

Luke’s about to argue and say that’s not like this at all, but on second thought, it is. It totally is. “Wait, you’re right. I never thought about it like that, but you’re right. Y/N L/N,” he decides on the spot, “I really like you.”

She grins back at him. “Luke Patterson, I like you too.”

That settles it for him. Luke had been annoyed at the thought of having to suffer through tutoring beforehand, but maybe he’ll be alright with it now. Y/N isn’t a part of the oppressive legion of teachers all conniving to make his life a living hell because he wants to be a musician instead of a doctor or a banker, she’s on his side. That makes it all better somehow.

And, unsurprisingly, it is better. Luke actually ends up having a really good time in his tutoring sessions with Y/N. They don’t feel like tutoring at all, more like a chance to hang out with a friend. They talk about Jane Austen and tell awesome jokes, read Shakespeare and spend more and more time together. Luke knows this is only a temporary thing until his grades get back up, but it’s too easy to forget that.

Until, one day, it isn’t. His English teacher hands back an essay with a bright red ‘A’ marked on the front, and tells him that she’s proud of all the progress he’s made so quickly. Instead of a sigh of relief, the only thing escaping Luke’s lips is a desolate sigh. After all, if Luke’s improved to this point, that kind of means his tutoring sessions will be over, right?

Y/N doesn’t know that, though. Y/N doesn’t have access to his grades. All she knows is what Luke tells her, and if informing her of his latest essay win means she’ll stop seeing him after school, why should Luke let slip a single syllable?

So, later that day, when Y/N asks him how the latest essay went, Luke shrugs and pretends to be disappointed. “I’d hoped for more,” he says, “she, uh, didn’t like my commentary.”

“Really?” Y/N questions, frowning slightly, “I thought you were really good at that.”

Luke’s eyes widen, caught in a lie. “Who knows with teachers, right?” He laughs weakly.

Y/N pretends to shudder. “I know, right? I feel like half of your grade is literally just how much she likes you. English classes are always so subjective.”

“Subjective?” Luke asks, grinning and propping his chin up on his hand, “Tell me about that.”

Y/N laughs. “Only if you promise we’ll talk Jane Eyre immediately afterwards. Immediately.”

“I so swear,” Luke intones, holding up his right hand with all the solemnity of a president being sworn into office.

Y/N swats him on the shoulder with her notebook, but she obliges, and maybe they don’t talk about Jane immediately. Maybe they laugh a little longer than usual. And maybe, just maybe, Luke thinks that he’s perfectly fine with obscuring the truth if it means he can have more of this when he needs it the most.

The truth, unfortunately, has a habit of making itself heard regardless of who is inclined to hide it. Luke comes into their usual study spot in the library one day to see Y/N waiting for him, not already in her seat like normal but standing tentatively at the side.

He frowns, slinging his backpack down on the ground and pulling up a chair. “Everything alright? You look like you’re about to run. If you’ve got something planned, we can do this another day.”

Y/N shakes her head slightly. “No, I’m free all day.”

Luke gestures towards the table. “Then sit down, my legs are getting tired just looking at you. We’ve got stuff to study, don’t we?”

“Well, that’s what I was going to ask about,” Y/N says, “Ms. Brown stopped me after class today, said she had someone else she wanted me to tutor. I said I was already booked with you and she was confused. Apparently you’ve been doing just fine for quite some time.”

Luke feels his breath catch in his throat. This is not how he’d wanted Y/N to find out. For what must be the hundredth time this year, Luke sends out a silent curse to all meddlesome English teachers.

“Yeah,” he says as carefully as he can, “I have, but only because of your expert tutoring. It’s like antibiotics, you know? You don’t stop taking ‘em when you start feeling better, only when the prescription is over.”

Y/N blinks at him in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

He runs a hand through his hair, trying not to feel like everything is slipping out of control in an instant. “It was a simile, sorry. A bad one. All I mean is that we don’t have to stop this just because I got a good grade or two.”

Y/N almost looks like she’s smiling, but that could just be Luke being delusional. “I thought you didn’t want to do tutoring.”

“I didn’t at the start, but you’re different. We’re cool. We are cool, right?” Luke starts rambling more and more with each passing second, but he can’t help it. He’s overthinking everything. What if he’s literally just been a tutee this whole time, and she doesn’t think they’re friends at all?

Y/N stares at him a second longer, then takes a seat at last. “Luke Patterson, are you telling me that you like my company so much that you’re willing to keep going to extra English practice just to see me?”

Luke can feel his face heating up, but he does his best to ignore it. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds–” He still has a little bit of self control left, so he cuts himself off before he can make a truly terrible mistake.

Y/N catches him, though. “It sounds like what?”

“It sounds like I like you,” he admits, and Y/N’s smiling at him, so he decides to take the leap of faith and just do what he’s been wanting to do for quite some time. Since the start of this, actually. “And I do like you. I like you a lot. I might not need the tutoring anymore, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop seeing you. So what if we met up sometime soon? Not for English, for us.”

Luke decides that he likes Y/N’s smile more than anything. “Are you asking me out?” She says.

“I am,” he affirms. “Are you saying yes?”

“I am,” she repeats.

Suddenly, Luke feels like the luckiest kid of all. Maybe he does have to throw in a good word or two for meddlesome English teachers after all. Sometimes they have a way of connecting you with the best people in the world.

requested by @thatfangirl42, i hope you enjoy!

jatp tag list: @rogueanschel, @retvenkos, @callsign-scully, @lovesanimals0000, @amortensie

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson oneshot #jatp #jatp imagines #jatp x reader #jatp oneshot #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms imagines #julie and the phantoms x reader #julie and the phantoms oneshot #jatp luke #jatp luke imagines #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke oneshot

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honeyedlashton · 1 year

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“I been talking a lot this segment, so I’ll pipe down a little bit.” 🙂

“No, you haven’t..” 🥺

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burning-omen · 9 months

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Kinktober 2023 List

I need help filling in my kinktober list! Please feel free the send request for characters with the day/kink :) (character from both my regular blog and my horror blog cuz why not)

1. Breeding - Jason Todd

2. Threesome - Dwayne and Paul (the lost boys)

3. Public play - Spencer Reid

4. Hate sex - Partick Bateman

5. Gun play - Steven Grant

6. Mask kink - Brahms Heelshire

7. Cowboy au - Obi-Wan Kenobi

8. Window sex - Obi-Wan Kenobi (yes, again, shut up)

9. Detective/criminal - Spider-Noir

10. Shower sex - Dick Grayson (skipping it cuz it was stressing me out)

11. Soulmates - Klaus Hargreeves

12. Enemies to lovers - Marc Spector

13. Marking/biting - Peter Parker

14. A/B/O - Steven Grant

15. Cult leader/worshiper au - Kurt Wagner

16. Demon/angel au -Warren Worthington III

17. Crossover -

18. Handcuffs - Miguel O’Hara

19. Dacryphilia -

20. Oral -

21. Overstim - Poe Dameron

22. Cockwarming - Logan Howlett

23. Closet sex - Keanu! John Constantine

24. Reverse cowgirl boy- Bruce Wayne

25. Bottom!reader -

26. Gloryhole - Joel Miller

27. Sextoys -

28. Ghost au -

29. Vampire au -

30. Edging - Luke Skywalker

31. Aftercare -

#x male reader #male reader #male!reader #x male!reader #top!reader #top male reader #top!male!reader #dom!reader #dom male reader #dom!male!reader #x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober list

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dailydragon08 · 8 months

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The Storm

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x F!Jedi!Reader Summary: After an undercover mission that didn't go quite according to plan, you and Luke wait out a sandstorm in an abandoned farmstead--where Luke's past has been quietly and ominously waiting. Warnings: emotional Luke, Reader is suffering calcification/electrocution side effects and has several bruises, is in a bit a revealing dress for a bit, but not for long and is covered by Luke's cloak the entire time, allusions to canon-typical violence/battles. A/N: "Remnants" is a series of one shots in no particular order about the budding relationship between you and Luke as he trains you in the ways of the Force. Sequel to A Crime of a Different Kind. Find me on AO3 under DragonHeartstring360 and see my masterlist linked in my pinned post on my blog! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

***

You clutched Luke’s hand tightly as the wind battered sand against you, squinting at your surroundings. Not that there was much to see—everything was hazy through the sandstorm and you were travelling across an empty plain anyway. The woman from the village had said this abandoned farm was a half hour’s walk, but it felt like you’d been going for hours now. Your body still ached and stung from the shock cuffs and several bruises were forming where you’d been unable to block blows from Aros and Halfoc’s men.

“Are we getting close?” you shouted over the gale, squeezing your fellow Jedi’s hand.

He turned, eyes narrowing as he looked straight into the wind. He’d lamented his unpreparedness in only bringing his cloak and no goggles—but in his defense, this wasn’t exactly the expected outcome for this mission. His golden-brown hair whipped in the wind and you were so mesmerized by it, you almost missed his reply. “Yes. Just a few more minutes. Are you doing all right?”

You hesitated. If you were being honest, your legs felt like they were collecting bricks with every step you took and the exhaustion was beginning to overtake you. If you weren’t holding Luke’s hand, you were sure you would’ve fallen over long ago. “Um, yeah, I’m fi—”

“I can tell you’re not. Come here.” He stopped just long enough to lift you bridal style, turning so you faced away from the wind and trekking on. “Once we get there, I want to use the first aid kit and make sure you’re not suffering any calcification.”

“Luke, I’m really fi—”

“You’re not fine. I can sense it.”

You sighed, but relented and leaned your head against his shoulder. He pressed his cheek to your forehead for a brief moment as he gave your arm and leg a squeeze where his hands clung to you. You squeezed his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck before closing your eyes.

Several minutes passed and you felt Luke tense, both around you physically and through the Force. He took in a shuddery breath, slowing for a few steps and almost coming to a halt. A large dome-like structure with a door in the middle stood just a few yards ahead of you. You thought you could make out two small mounds in the sand just to the right with…stones at the back? A glance back at him showed distant eyes and thinned lips. A muscle in his jaw twitched and you could sense the devastation in the pit of his stomach. He finally came to a full stop and closed his eyes as a stuttered whoosh left him.

You felt your heart sink seeing him like this. Unsure what the cause of his despair was, but somehow knowing this wasn’t the time to ask, you gently touched your forehead to his cheek, nuzzling your nose into his skin. He felt warm, but it was hard to differentiate grains of sand stuck to his face from stubble. He leaned his head into yours, squeezing you again for a moment before taking a deep breath, squaring his shoulders, and descending into the dome.

The stairway leading into the ground was so dark, you knew Luke must’ve been using the Force to guide him. At the bottom was another archway that led into an open-air courtyard. The whizzing sand obscured the sky through the opening overhead and several sets of oval archways and hydraulic doors littered the circular walls around you.

Luke’s empty eyes were beginning to worry you. He stared around vacantly, taking everything in before settling on a spot in the distance to see something beyond your naked eye. You could feel the grief and heartbreak pouring from him in waves, as well as a level of surprise at his own emotional response.

“You can set me down now,” you murmured, afraid to shatter the silence.

“Oh, um, sorry,” he mumbled, gently placing you on your feet before setting both your bags against the wall.

A large, metallic structure in the middle of the sandy floor caught your attention and your feet went toward it almost of their own accord. You unclasped the stay in Luke’s cloak where it hung around your waist and moved it up by your neck, lowering the hood for a better look. Before you stood two metal towers, one taller than the other, with several tubes, connectors, small domes, and more contraptions attached to them. You reached out to touch a black smudge only to realize from the texture that it was a scorch mark. Luke had mentioned this place had burned down a long time ago, probably while he still lived on Tatooine. Walking a slow circle around the towers, you realized there were many more scorch marks on the ground, walls, archways, doors—some of which weren’t even attached to their hinges anymore and hung unevenly in their frames—and even through a large archway leading to what appeared to have once been a dining room. The table was cleaved in two and hung in a V-shape with chairs that hadn’t been upright in a long time. This didn’t look like it had just been a fire—someone came here with the intention to pillage and kill. Where had Luke been when this had happened?

You turned back to your friend, but the metal towers caught your attention once more. “I wonder what they used this for.”

“It’s a moisture vaporator,” Luke answered as you made your way to the side of the towers closest to the stairwell. “That’s the chilling bar, and that’s the—the b-binary brain…unit…”

Your head whipped around at the sudden crack and emotion in his voice, surprised to see tears leaking down his face. “Luke?” Everything he’d told you about his childhood suddenly came back in a rush and your eyes went wide as you realized where you were. “Oh, Maker, Luke—”

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice thick even as more tears sprung up to bring out the blue in his eyes and his face crumbled.

You rushed over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself close against his chest. “Luke, I’m so sorry.”

Luke held you tightly, one hand traveling up your spine to wind into your hair—which was now a wreck thanks to earlier events and the storm—as he buried his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You could feel his tears wetting your skin and your heart cracked in two at his loud sniffle.

You gently massaged the back of his shoulders. “Is this the first time you’ve been back here since…?”

He nodded, holding you tighter, his voice thick. “I—I came back here to bury them before I left with Ben, but…couldn’t bring myself to come inside. My last memories of this place were with i-it still intact.”

“Do we need to go find somewhere else? I don’t mind walking a bit further.”

He shook his head, holding you so tightly you struggled to breathe, but you wouldn’t dare make him release his hold now.

Several minutes passed with nothing but the wind whistling overhead and Luke’s quiet cries filling the silence. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d get…” he trailed off, his breath shaking in your ear.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” You gently worked out the tension in the back of his neck, relishing how he melted against you. “They’d be really proud of you.”

He buried his face in your neck even further before crouching slightly and lifting you up off your feet. You felt a surge of emotions swell through his chest as you let your feet dangle, unsure whether wrapping them around his waist would be too much. “I—” he choked to a halt, reconsidering his words and setting you back on your feet dying to know what they would’ve been. He pressed his forehead to yours, leaning so close you thought he might kiss you again, but pulled back at the last moment. “I’m gonna go check something. I won’t be long.”

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I’ll be here.”

He gave you a tight smile that didn’t touch his eyes, the blues swimming with sadness and a kind of desperation that made your chest ache—although from his Force signature, the desperation didn’t seem like it had much to do with the farm or memories of his family. You tried your best to smile back at him as he walked to a hydraulic door littered with rust and soot. When the button did nothing, he relaxed his shoulders, tilting his head back and sighing. Still holding your hand tightly behind him, he lifted the outstretched fingers of the other towards the door. It groaned for a minute before falling backwards into a dark hallway. He threw one last glance at you before disappearing into the shadows, keeping hold of your hand until it was out of reach.

The courtyard suddenly began spinning and you groaned, pressing your fingers into your eyes, but it did little good. It still felt as if someone was spinning you around too fast—thinking back to Luke lifting you off the ground, you almost wished he had. You’d heard stories about how that was his preferred way to hug his sister back when he’d first joined the Rebellion and you couldn’t deny it sounded adorable. Although he might have matured past that now. But you could still dream.

The motion stopped and you finally opened your eyes, sighing and blinking away blurry spots in your vision as you shuffled towards the dining room. As you rubbed your head with one hand and flicked the wrist of the other, one of the chairs wrenched itself right-side up before you. You gingerly set yourself down, praying the old, battered material would hold your weight, and leaned against the back. You tried to picture the room as it had been—table intact, chairs neatly pushed in with Luke and his family having dinner there. You closed your eyes and again reached for the Force—

Luke in a white tunic, his hair sun-bleached with a slightly straighter nose and an ungloved right hand. Blue milk. “Just one more season—”

“Ugh, you say that every year—”

“Where are you going?”

“Guess I’m going nowhere—”

Your name snapped you out of your trance. You looked up to see Luke standing over you. His blue eyes—the same eyes that had sat at this table, much lighter and younger then, despite not much time passing—were clouded with worry and you could feel his concern seeping through the Force. Wind and sand still whistled overhead, some of it blowing in to play with his hair. “Through that back hallway, the refresher somehow still works. Do you feel well enough to walk there or do you need me to carry you?”

You stood. “I can walk.” But as you shook your head to clear it, another round of vertigo overtook you and you stumbled into Luke’s waiting arms. You took a moment to memorize how they felt around your waist before taking a step back. “I promise, I’m—I can—”

“At least lean on me?” His gaze was heavy on you and you could sense his growing trepidation as he gently smoothed some hair away from your forehead.

You sighed and nodded, a small thrill going through you as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You made slow progress and couldn’t help but admire his profile in the fading light.

“Looks like this will last the night,” Luke said, totally oblivious to your admiration. “Hopefully it will have let up by the morning and we can go back to that village and hitch a ride to the Redeemer.”

You nodded as Luke used both hands to guide you through the dark corridor. With his hands on your waist, he gently turned you into the waiting refresher. It clearly hadn’t been used in some time and the mirror was cracked and stained in several places. As you registered the sonic shower next to you, your own sand-caked face, body, and what remained of your updo stared back at you. Several pieces had escaped in the front and it was much looser than it had been when you’d arrived at Halfoc’s party. You sighed before letting Luke’s cloak fall from your shoulders. He stared at you in what could’ve easily been mistaken for awe before catching your eyes in the mirror and quickly looking towards the ground. He took his cloak from you just as you noticed a change of clothes—which covered much more than what was left of your dress, thank the Maker—on the counter.

He let his fingers linger over your back in a barely-there touch. “You go first.”

You turned to look at him. “But you should—”

“I insist. Have you ever used a sonic before?”

“Once or twice, with the Rebellion.”

“Good.” He stared at you with sad eyes for a moment before letting his hand fall back to his side. “Well, I’ll be out in the courtyard if you need anything. Just call me through the Force.”

“I will.” As Luke disappeared through the doorway, you quickly realized you couldn’t reach the clasp near the back of the dress—especially with your muscles still screaming the way they were from the shock cuffs. “Um…Luke?”

He was back in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

“Um…” your face suddenly felt much too warm, “I, uh…I can’t get the—the clasp. I can’t reach.”

Although Luke’s own face was beginning to bloom an adorable shade of red, he still nodded and slowly stepped forward as you turned your back to him. A glance in the mirror showed his hand hovering by the stays around your back for a moment before gingerly unclasping them. You crossed your arms over your chest to keep the fabric around you as the sleeves slid down your upper arms. You froze as you felt Luke’s fingertips ghosting over the back of your shoulders in a steady line, hissing as they ran over a bruise.

He withdrew his hand immediately. “I’m sorry…” He hesitated. “I’m not sure how good the sonic will feel on those. They’re all over your back.” His hands outstretched to your skin, halting mid-air. “May I…?”

You nodded, taking a shaky breath and licking your lips, trying not to read too much into how his eyes tracked the movement before repeating the gesture. You couldn’t help but sigh and close your eyes at the feeling of his warm, calloused flesh hand and cool leather of his glove on your skin. He rubbed gentle circles with his left thumb as you felt him call on the Force. For a moment, your back tingled and you winced at the pins and needles before the pain abated slightly. You risked a glance in the mirror to see Luke’s head bent towards you, his eyes closed and his face the picture of serenity that many had come to associate with the Jedi.

His retracted his gloved hand, his flesh hand hovering before gently stroking the backs of his fingers in a line down your spine. You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I wasn’t sure,” he answered quietly, his hand coming to a stilted halt as you turned to meet his gaze. He shoved both hands into his pockets before studying his shoes. “I’ve read about Force healing in some of the old Jedi texts, but have never tried it.”

“Well,” you smiled, trying to ease the tension, “I’m glad to be your guinea pig.”

He smiled back at you, but it still did little to help lift the weight in his eyes. “I didn’t heal all of it—I’m still not sure what I’m doing, but I at least got it halfway there.” He stared at you sadly for a moment before turning to leave. “I’ll be out here if you need anything else.”

You nodded, although he was gone before he could’ve seen it. The refresher had no closeable door and you could feel your skin tingling at the thought of him being able to just poke his head in and see…well, everything as you let the offending piece of material fall to the floor, stepping out of it and into the sonic.

***

The gentle thrum of the medisensor pulled you from your sleep. While you were in the refresher, Luke had discovered his aunt and uncle’s master bedroom still had an intact mattress and he’d insisted you lay down while he had his turn with the sonic. He gently hovered the medisensor over the length of your body—which was now clad in some of your favorite comfy clothes—before meeting your eyes and switching it off.

“How’s it look?” you asked groggily.

“No lasting damage as far as I can tell. The scan says bedrest should be sufficient enough to get you back to normal.” He put the scanner back in the box before dropping it into his pack on the floor. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay, just tired.” You hesitated before reaching out to gently scratch his arm with your nails. “How are you?”

He sighed. He’d donned his Jedi blacks again, but had forgone his jacket in the heat. “I’m…I’m trying.”

“I know.” You twined your fingers through his, giving him a gentle squeeze and relieved when he squeezed back.

He scooted closer to you, reaching around to rub your aching back. You closed your eyes and couldn’t hide a contented groan. “You should get some sleep,” he murmured.

“So should you.”

“I can take the floor—”

You grabbed a fistful of his black tee, pulling part it out from where he’d tucked it into his pants in the process and giving you a flash of his tanned, muscular torso. “Don’t you dare, moisture boy.”

He rewarded you with a small laugh—well, more of an exhalation than anything and the mirth still didn’t reach his eyes. But it was the closest you’d gotten to something real since you arrived, so you’d take it. “Moisture boy? I am technically your Jedi master, you know, a bit rude—”

“Oh, please, I’ve taught you just as much.”

“That’s true.”

“So I win.”

Another small, dry laugh. “It’s not a competition.”

You smacked the decrepit mattress between each word for emphasis. “It is if I say so.” The whole frame wobbled and a plume of dust went up into the air at each smack, triggering a rather pitiful sneeze.

“Maybe don’t do that on this bed, you goof,” he grinned, dwarfing your fist in his.

“You’re not the boss o’ me.” You could feel yourself getting more exhausted with each breath, each word becoming more and more laced with the thickness of sleep.

This laugh was closer to his usual. “I am, I outrank you both as Jedi and as a commander.”

“Pulling the rank card.” You clicked your tongue. “So unoriginal.”

“Maker, just go to sleep, silly.”

“Only if you also sleep in the bed—or you take the bed and I’ll take the—”

“You are absolutely not taking the floor.”

“Well, then…” Too sleep-addled to listen to the alarm bells going off in your brain at the bold gesture, you patted the space on the double bed behind you.

Luke stared at you for a moment with a look you couldn’t identify. It was still heavy—which you doubted would disappear till long after this mission was over—but there was something…at home about the way he looked at you, which only further increased your heart rate as he gently moved some hair away from your face with a fingertip before moving to the empty side of the bed. You felt it dip before his hand resumed its massage of your back. “Are you all right on that side? I’d like to sleep closest to the door if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, this is good,” you hardly got out as your eyes drooped and the heaviness of your head overtook you, Luke’s hand on your back a gentle lullaby.

***

When you woke, two things were very different: it was much darker than it had been when Luke was rubbing your back—and there was no Luke. You rolled to take in the dusty, messy room around you, pouting when you realized the bed was void of the warm body you’d gotten so comfortable next to. You waited for several minutes to see if he’d just gone to the refresher, but when he didn’t return, reached out through the Force.

You shuffled out of bed, down the hall, and into the courtyard of the Lars’ farmstead. Wind still whistled over the opening, but it no longer brought so much sand with it. You crossed your arms tightly over your chest as the cold of the desert night hit you, following Luke’s Force signature across the sand and through the dining room. The chairs were now all upright and as tucked into the broken table as they could be. It was obvious Luke had found a broom and swept up the debris, and as you made your way through the back door into the attached kitchen, you assumed he’d done the same in there.

He leaned against one of the counters with his back to you as he fiddled with a handheld radio. At first, you thought he was calling the Alliance, but realized as he moved it looked nothing like the standard rebel equipment. You hovered in the doorway, watching for a moment as the meagre overhead light shone on his hair, his hands deftly replacing the radio’s battery with ones from his pocket. He opened another side hatch in the contraption and fiddled with some wires before a crackled song filled the room. It was hard to hear and staticky, but Luke still set the radio on the counter and continued to stand and listen for so long, you thought maybe he didn’t sense you at all.

He finally turned his head enough to show off his profile, but not enough to look at you. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“It’s okay,” you answered quietly, afraid to disrupt the song too much. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes before slowly letting it out. He nodded, letting his shoulders droop as his head followed soon after.

You took a few tentative steps closer, twiddling your fingers. “Can I do anything?” He didn’t answer for so long, you finally turned to leave. “I’ll…just give you some space, then.”

“Stay.”

You turned back to see him staring at you with such desperate puppy eyes, you weren’t sure how anyone had ever said no to him in his entire life. The longing in them almost made you tear up and you found your feet moving quickly back towards him before you even commanded them to.

“I mean, if you’re not too tired, of course—”

“I’m good,” you muttered into his shoulder as you pulled him close.

You felt him sink into you as he returned your embrace, one hand coming up to gently move your hair aside so he could nuzzle into your neck.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed that way, gently rubbing each other’s backs and shoulders, but you knew it would never be long enough. Your ears perked up as the song changed to something a bit slower, calmer, and almost ethereal sounding. As Luke grasped you tighter and you could feel a new wave of sadness bloom in the pit of his stomach through the Force, you couldn’t help but slowly sway back and forth with him. At first, it wasn’t even meant to be to the music, but you realized quickly you were right on the beat and thought why not?

You felt Luke’s emotions intensify as you pulled back and took his hands, gently pulling them back and forth with you. Your face fell, however, and you careened to a halt as you noticed more tears pooling in his eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”

He gave you the first smile that reached all corners of his face for the first time that day, even through his tears. “It’s all right, I just…My aunt and I used to have dance parties right where we’re standing when I couldn’t sleep at night as a child. You just reminded me of that. That’s always how she’d start, by hugging me and swaying.”

“Oh, Maker, Luke, I’m so sorry. We can stop—”

“Please don’t. I…” he hesitated, his voice quietly pleading. “I want to dance with you—if, if you want.”

You wondered briefly if he knew what he was doing when he flashed you the puppy eyes again, but could only nod. You stepped back into the circle of his arms as he lifted his hip off the counter and swayed you both back and forth. The song began to gradually pick up its pace until it was something much livelier and more hopeful and you felt Luke’s spirits rising with it. He seemed shy at first, but moved to spin you in a circle under his outstretched arm anyway, growing braver at your resulting giggle. His grin lit up his whole face, his eyes finally relinquishing some of their weight, as he moved you both around the kitchen in circles, laughing with you as you two stepped on each other’s feet, bumped into the old and fragile counter and knocked things off, and not even caring when the old contraption’s static overtook parts of the song.

You felt like exploding with excitement as he held you tightly against his chest and lifted you off your feet for the second time today—this time, spinning you in a circle midair. Your daydream from earlier was nothing compared to the real thing. You didn’t even care if your vertigo returned if it meant he would do it again. In a moment of bravery—and with the two of you high on sleep deprivation or the euphoria of the song, who knew—you wrapped your legs around his waist. Laughing with him as his spins slowed, you hardly registered the fact that the radio was spouting more static than music and jumped as it sputtered and sparked to a halt.

Luke quickly set you down, turning the radio off before it could spark more and cause a fire. He turned back to you, squeezing your hand in his. “Thank you. I just…” He shook his head, at a loss for words. “Thank you.”

You squeezed back, losing yourself in tracing the scars on his face with your eyes. “Of course. But we should both get some sleep.”

He nodded, glancing at the radio—and around the derelict kitchen—one last time before following you hand-in-hand back to the bedroom.

You rolled towards the wall on the mattress, suddenly afraid to be facing him. “Goodnight, Luke.”

He murmured a gentle goodnight in return before you felt the bed shift as he rolled towards you. Just as you were falling into the land of dreams once more, you felt his hand gently rubbing your back again.

***

You weren’t sure if Luke had really been spooning you when you’d woken early that morning, his fingers tightly entwined with yours, or if it had just been a dream. You doubted you’d figure it out for a long time to come—you certainly weren’t about to ask him. You’d nestled further into him, feeling him rub the tip of his nose against your cheek, before falling back asleep—or drifting into a different dream. Either way, he was gone again when you awoke, the bright desert suns filtering through the open hall doorway into the bedroom.

You didn’t have to wonder where he was for long. Just as you sat up, yawning and running a hand through your bedhead, he appeared with a steaming tumbler of caf and set it on the wobbly nightstand next to you. His hand hovered around the cup for a moment as he eyed the wooden structure with wide eyes before turning those same wide eyes back to you as it swayed to a standstill.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his face and he chuckled with you. You could feel some sadness lingering through the Force—which was only to be expected—but he seemed at least a bit more accepting than he had been when you’d first arrived. You moved your legs to make room as he sat on the bed next to you, pulling the rations out of both your packs. You took a sip of your caf and marveled for a moment how he had made it just the way you liked it—you didn’t remember ever discussing how you took your caf with him before. His attentiveness made your stomach flutter and you shyly looked away as he handed you your breakfast.

“Thanks for the caf,” you said, almost missing his you’re welcome as you set the tumbler down on the nightstand and caught your finger in a loop of jerba leather that stuck out of the drawer. As you gently pulled yourself free, the drawer opened to reveal a necklace with a small, square piece of pale wood carved with markings. You began to take it out, but then glanced at Luke, gently dropping it back in place. “I shouldn’t be snooping, I’m sorry—”

“It’s all right.” He took a drink of water before setting his food down and carefully taking the necklace from the drawer. “I can’t believe this is still in one piece.”

You admired the carvings in companionable silence. “It’s pretty.”

He glanced up at you bashfully. “You like it?”

“Yeah, I really like the simplicity of it. Was this your aunt’s?”

“Yes. It’s called a japor snippet. The different symbols all have different meanings, like health, luck, growth, and they’re given as sort of good luck charms.”

“That’s really sweet. Did your uncle give that to her?”

“I did, actually.” He stared at you hesitantly for a moment before continuing. “They’re usually handmade gifts and I made this for her birthday one year.”

“You made this? It’s so good!”

He chuckled and looked to his feet before handing you the necklace. “Thank you. We didn’t grow up with much money, so handmade gifts like this were pretty frequent.”

“What do these symbols mean?”

You were so entranced by the fact that you were holding such a delicate item that Luke had made himself in your hands—especially picturing his big hands being so articulate and gentle—that meeting his eyes again as he explained each carving was almost jarring. “That one’s for luck, this one is for growth, this one is sort of a mashup of home and hearth, this one actually represents cooking, since she loved baking and had a dream of going to culinary school—”

“Did you cook together?” you couldn’t help but interrupt.

He smiled. “Yes, we did. I’m not sure how much of I retained and her food will always be better than mine, but those are…” his face fell slightly, “good memories.”

You felt your own smile collapse. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

He shook his head, giving you a bittersweet stare. “It’s all right. It’s actually nice to be able to talk to someone about them.” He chuckled. “Although this wasn’t exactly how I pictured bringing a girl home…” He trailed off, staring at you with round eyes as he realized the implications of what he’d just said.

You gave him an equally surprised stare, both of you jumping in unison as Luke’s comm went off in his bag. He shoved the last of his food in his mouth before digging through his clothes to the device. Leia’s voice floated through the other end, asking for a status update as you finished off your own breakfast, taking your things to the refresher to give him some privacy.

By the time you returned, he was already up the stairs and by the front door. The storm had stopped and a gentle breeze blew Tatooine’s heat with it. You took one last look around the moisture farm—tapping into the Force once more, seeing glimpses of the comforting home it had been and feeling heat rise to your cheeks at the thought of how adorable little Luke must’ve been. You could just see him on a footstool, peeking up over the kitchen counter as his aunt made bread with flour dusting his hair and nose. The thought made you smile as you opened your eyes and ascended the stairs.

A caravan pulled by two small dewbacks stood waiting a few yards away. As the woman driving turned, you recognized her from the village earlier. She smiled. “I’m so glad you two made it! I had to come this way and back anyway, so figured I’d check on you.”

“We appreciate it,” you replied, your smile fading as you noticed Luke on his knees by his family’s graves. “We’ll be there in a second.”

The woman nodded before turning to the young child swinging their feet on the bench seat beside her.

You crouched next to Luke on the sand, noticing he held his aunt’s japor snippet reverently in his gloved hand. After several moments of silence, you laid your head against his shoulder, sending a silent thank you to the two (and unknown third) in front of you for keeping him safe and raising him to be so warm.

As if he heard your thoughts, Luke reached out and took your hand in his. “Their names were Owen and Beru. The third is my grandmother, Shmi, who I never got to meet.”

“I’m sorry I can’t meet them in person.”

He turned to look at you with a sad smile, rubbing gentle circles against your skin with his thumb. “Beru especially would’ve loved you.”

You felt your heart swell and buried your face in Luke’s shoulder so he wouldn’t see your watery eyes. He pressed his cheek to your hair, sighing before helping you to your feet. He kept a tight grip on your hand the whole way to the wagon, insisting on lifting you by your waist into the back.

As the woman from the village guided the animals back towards her home, the little boy on the bench turned and peppered you with questions—where did you come from? What were you doing here? Did the laser sword at your belt mean you’re a Jedi? Could he be a Jedi? Could he play with your sword?

He occupied so much of your attention that you hardly had time to figure out what exactly Luke was hunched over with his knife. Between questions, you took in the scenery of what had once been his home, interrupted by your arrival at the village and the trek back to where the Redeemer was hidden behind two large boulders. You sighed with the feeling of finally coming home as you settled into the copilot’s seat, watching the engines kick up sand almost as thick as the storm you’d just passed through.

After getting some much needed rest and making sure R2, who had stayed with the ship, received adequate attention, you and Luke soon exited hyperspace to see Ajan Kloss fast approaching through the windshield. As you returned to your chair in the cockpit, Luke surprised you by pulling something familiar out of his pocket and handing it to you.

An uncharacteristic nervousness poured through the Force. At first, you thought he was handing you Beru’s japor snippet, but then noticed it safely nestled around his own neck. The japor snippet he handed you was a bit rounder in shape, smaller, and included a thinner, more delicate circle of jerba leather.

“I made this for you,” he finally said, his voice clear and smooth, but you could see the bashfulness creeping its way into his cheeks and eyes. “I just…couldn’t have gotten through that without you and wanted to find a way to say thank you. Just—for everything.”

You gently touched the piece of wood with your finger where it lay in his cupped hands. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He gave you a small smile, his usual warmth back in his eyes. “I wanted to.”

You turned your attention to the piece of jewelry in front of you, finally taking it into your own hands to get a closer look. “Some of these symbols look different.”

“Those are the same ones for health, luck, and growth you saw on Beru’s. But this one’s for knowledge, peace, um…” he hesitated at two lines, the bottom much shorter than the top, “there isn’t really a symbol for Jedi, but I tried to make something that looked like a lightsaber. Which didn’t turn out great, but I did my best.”

You could barely contain your joy as you met his gaze. “I love it.”

His shoulders sank in relief. “Do you really?”

“Yeah, it’s never coming off. Thank you so much.”

He chuckled. “Well, it’s not the most waterproof material, so it should probably come off sometimes.”

“Oh, wait, what’s this symbol?” You gestured to two slightly asymmetrical semi circles that almost touched, but not quite and wound around the opposite sides like an embrace.

“That’s…” he licked his lips, glancing at the approaching planet below, “for familial affection.”

“But you said that,” you pointed to a different symbol on Beru’s, “was familial affection. This one looks different.”

Luke held your gaze as if he was trying to tell you something with his eyes alone. The Force revealed many emotions swirling in his chest that were too entwined to pry apart and identify as he licked his lips. “It…What I carved for you is a little different, yes. But close.” He turned back to the ship controls in front of him, turning his head slightly as you continued to stare at him with questioning eyes. “Just know it means I care for you…deeply.”

You felt your stomach twist and flip in a way that almost made you nauseous with the strength of it. You unclasped the stay at the back of the leather strip and quickly put it on. As Luke turned his full attention to guiding the ship home with your help, you knew the memory of his lips would haunt you for months to come.

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