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lavandula-ipsum · 8 months ago

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The sweet waters of Plegethon

Asphodels ch. 2/2

Tags: dark!Luke x Fem!Reader, force sensitive reader, reader is injured, porn with plot, angst, smut. Like, this is the smut bomb of the series.

Summary: Waiting to be torn apart once again, two lovers find each other under the stars.

Asphodels is a sequel to Pomegranate, a short smut series that has kinda ended up growing a plot. I do think you can enjoy this part without the previous one, since you can infer enough of their dynamic from context if you're just here for the smutty fun. Feel free to check the previous chapters if you feel like it!

Asphodels pt. 1

It was a hard job convincing the rebel survivors that all they needed to do to avoid the mortal threat of the stormtroopers closing in around them was to take refuge in the caves and just wait for them to just leave. Huddled in the tunnels, the children of the Rebellion look up and fear that the promise won’t save them. There is a twinkle of understanding in (Y/N)’s new ally, old Imoviah, when she assures him they will be safe for now.

As soon as it mlike the danger has passed them by, the rebel captain hurries back to the cell where her prisoner awaits. Shame nails her eyes to the floor at first, handing him the comlink as she swallows thickly. She’s forgotten herself again, and now she has to deal with having to manage problems so abysmally different in nature she’d need to split herself in two for it. But she needs to suck it up and be a big girl today. Politics must come first.

After Luke dials in the code, he puts the device back on her palm, his hand lingering for a bit. At least he doesn’t seem resentful for leaving him like she did, bothered and denied. She mentally hushes herself, she needs to focus

“It will be alright, I swear,” he assures. The rebel tries to paint her expression with all of her resolve and hopes the Sith lord can’t choke her through this distance.

Suddenly, the little communicator emits the ambience buzz that indicates there’s someone listening on the other side. Faintly, the dreaded sound of a mechanic breathing echoes.

“Excuse me if I don’t introduce myself properly, lord Vader. I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

“I am well aware of who you are. And you will tell me, right now, how you obtained that communicator as well as this code.”

Her blood freezes at the idea that he already knows her. They have never met face to face, apart from a couple of occasions when her ship narrowly avoided capture by his TIE fighters while he looked down on the hunt from the Executor. Even then, his cold ghost managed to freeze the Force around her like a nasty omen. There was also the quick encounter at Bespin, though there wasn’t much time for pleasantries back then. No, he either has gathered intel about her, for whatever chilling reason, or Luke has been talking about her. She suddenly feels out of her own body and shudders at the ridiculous concept of Vader giving ear to the fallen Jedi’s story about a girl he almost came to love.

“That’s the interesting part, my lord. You see, right now I have in my power a certain prized someone you might be interested in getting back.”

Luke rolls his eyes at her, which lightens her heart a little bit. It almost makes her enjoy getting threats in exchange.

“You might think you scored some kind of goal with this, but no matter what you do, even if my troops have been ordered to spare your cowardly rats in hiding for now, the Rebellion is doomed.”

“I’ll keep my prisoner for myself then. Maybe I’ll find some better use for him before we’re all dead at your feet, my lord.”

“Your tone is starting to become cumbersome, girl.” He doesn’t need to raise his filtered voice for her to feel a dreadful cold creeping up the back of her neck. “I demand proof that he is unharmed.”

Luke steps forward, his eyes fixed on the girl at all times, reassuring that she’s navigating this delicate situation successfully but a little fearful it could all fall down with just a wrong word. “I’m here, father. Please, listen to her.”

Silence. For a few moments, only a faint metallic breathing comes out of the comlink. (Y/N) realizes now she’s been squeezing Luke’s hand too hard. She barely dares to even breathe until lord Vader speaks again.

“Alright, go on. And do not test my patience any further, rebel. Consider yourself greatly privileged to be having this conversation.”

(Y/N) is not aware of the dark lord having any tolerance whatsoever so, with a slight triumphant smirk on her lips, she continues. “These are my demands, Lord Vader.”

****

After long hours of packing and preparation to evacuate the refuge under the sanctuary, night has fallen once again over the forest. Right now, somewhere, the survivors must be leaving the surface of Jolah on a brand new Imperial transport. Even though they’ve taken all the precautions available to them to prevent being followed, (Y/N) still fears it might not be enough. However, the only thing she can do now is let them go and trust that her plan will work.

The silence is broken by the beeping in her hands right before Imoviah’s voice comes out of her comlink

“The starbird has taken flight. Good work.”

She sighs. “Thank you, friend. Take care. I hope our paths will meet again soon.”

“Likewise. May the Force be with you, girl.”

(Y/N) tries to answer it back, but the woshrds can’t find their way out before the communication is cut. So all she can do is reduced to just sitting there, her glossy eyes blurring the stars above her, as her fingers tear apart one of the wild flowers growing through the crevices of the stone table they’re sitting on.

“You’ve done it, they’re safe”

At her side sits her only source of warmth in this cold night. It’s Luke’s arm against hers that keeps her feet on the ground now that she feels like she’s inhabiting a stranger’s corpse. Perhaps the sensation has been accompanying her for a while. It’s by his side that she’s finally able to see the tension and constant nausea that’s taken hold of her body the last few hours.

His stun cuffs suddenly come undone and fall to the floor. Luke gives her a confused grin, but she looks away. She trusts him enough to free him. No, it’s way more than that, dangerously so. (Y/N) yearns to give him anything he might ask for. However, the question of why she’s waited this long to do it keeps her tongue tied in a knot.

The rebel also hands him back his lightsaber. The corrupted inner sizzling of the agonizing kyber crystal has been making her sick with the memories of how much time and effort he put into building it, how she clapped and laughed the first time she got to see the emerald blade. I'm proud of you, she had said after kissing his cheek.

And as revolting as its aura echoes in the Force, she feels a little colder after it's no longer in her hands. A cloud lifts in her brain too. It will be a while before Vader’s shuttle appears, a few hours at least. Hours she doesn’t feel like using on running away.

If only there was something that could keep him by her side.

“Your sister still believes in you, you know?”

“She does?” Luke seems surprised at first, but then he shakes his head. “That is too far gone.”

She’s too tired to fight about this again, so she just sighs and sinks down a little.

“Have you thought about how you’re going to get away?” he says.

“I was thinking of stealing your fighter, actually.”

He grimaces, but doesn’t complain further. “I guess that’s fair.”

(Y/N) groans and rubs her forehead on his shoulder. It takes him by surprise, but it prompts him to relax a little and open up his cloak so she can take refuge under it. But she can’t allow herself to rest while she still has homework left to do.

“You can have your questions now.”

A furrow appears on his brow, displeased by her transactional attitude. However, curiosity ends up being more powerful. “Is Leia being trained?”

“Yes.”

“By whom?”

“You don’t know her.” (Y/N) glares at him before standing up to pace around with the help of her walking stick, anxious. Even though she feels the blunt pull of the stitches on her leg, the movement helps clear her head. This is a subject she’s not willing to get into, and every word that slips out could be fatal to someone else. Thankfully, Luke seems willing to drop the issue.

“Where is your lightsaber?”

“I gave it to her.” However, he doesn’t seem satisfied with this vague answer. She thinks of a lie, something like she needed it but, again, Luke is not someone she can lie to. And she’s getting tired of trying to do it. “I did it because I was donafraid of ending up having to fight you.”

“So you’ve given up.”

“I thought you’d be happier about it.”

“I’m not. There’s the chance you’ll see yourself in a bad situation without a way to protect yourself.” His impatient tone also reveals he’s still hurt about what she said earlier, when they fought in the cell. “I never intended to make you weaker.”

“Well, then I guess I’ll have to either surrender or die if I find myself in a pickle.”

It would be easier to embrace either of those decisions if she took it beforehand, wouldn’t it?

The night is cold and the dark hides them, which is known to work the magic to conjure the words that seem impossible at any other time. The young man in black leaves the stone table to go after her, but stops a couple of steps away. His hand twitches at his side.

“Do you hate it when I touch you?”

(Y/N) thought these questions were going to be utilitarian in nature, so she’s about to complain about it for a second. However, she can just sigh at her lack of an answer. The reason why she freaked out when he touched her earlier is a mystery to her too. She liked it when he caged her between his bound hands and the wall to kiss her. It was sudden and desperate, with a passionate sense of urgency that could’ve been mistaken for roughness if she didn’t know him as well as she does. No, this fear has bloomed from a seed planted way before, that very first night they shared after learning of his betrayal. She steps closer to squeeze his hand, relieved by him reciprocating the gesture.

“I don’t. It’s just- Kark, I’m not sure I can explain it. ”

“Will you try for me?” he asks, need glimmering in his eyes.

“I think it started… the last time we were together. I was so confused. I lost myself and acted like a brat. I gave in to the idea that the pleasure would erase the pain, but then I felt so guilty. It wasn’t fair to you.”

“You don’t have to feel bad about it. I needed you too.”

“That’s why I tried to regain control. I wanted to give you everything, I really did.” She swallows a sob. “But I couldn’t picture myself surviving, or at least the part of me that matters, if I didn’t run away. So I did. And now I’m not even sure if it’s still alive.”

Luke’s fingertips graze the back of her hand on the walking stick, and a shy flutter reaches her through the Force as he gently takes her hand, slowly enough to watch in her expression and feel in her signature that he’s not overstepping, and presses his lips on her knuckles, “I don’t blame you.”

“I didn’t know I was going to react like that earlier. I was so focused on the little time we had I didn’t realize how scared I was.”

“Of me?”

“No, no. Of myself. I was terrified of losing control.” (Y/N) nuzzles his shoulder, every word a struggle. “I’m sorry, I’m a mess. I don't mean to mislead you. Isn't it messed up that I behave like this when I'm supposed to fight you?”

The finger tracing down her cheek melts her worries away until they’re just a bittersweet aftertaste in her mouth. “I’ll gladly take all you're willing to give.”

Grabbing his shirt collar, she gently brings him closer till their lips meet. The kiss is sweet and light, slow as if they had all the time in the world. Clean.

“Such a lovely mess,” he whispers against her mouth. She groans, sensing yet another worry fluttering around his aura.

“How many more questions do you have?”

“Only one. But it’s a bit selfish.”

“I promised I would answer. Shoot.”

“Do you still love me?”

Luke retreats back a little to look at her better, his gloved hand still under her chin. The frail hope trembling behind his eyes breaks her heart a little.

“I do. I love you. But I still hate you too.”

The wind lightly tousles his hair as a watery chuckle escapes his throat. He’s relieved. “I know. Don’t worry. Don’t let it hurt you any more than it needs to.”

This time it’s him who leans down to kiss her, holding her face between his palms as he gently parts her lips. Their invisible bond ripples with a wave of gratitude. Suddenly, she feels a little embarrassed about earlier, when she went straight to shove her hand down his pants.

“Your eyes are wandering, love.”

“I was feeling a bit guilty about something else, that’s all.” As (Y/N) looks down, finding by the tension on his pants that affairs are more or less where she left them. “I’m sorry I had to leave you like that earlier. I thought you would have, I don’t know, done something about it by now.”

His eyelashes flicker as he grows excited and flustered in equal measure with the understanding of what she’s referring to. “I haven’t.”

“Were you waiting for me?”

He nods, his fingers threading her hair, exploring her features in the search for a signal that she’s not out of his grasp yet. “Are you ready to let go a little? Only as much as you want to.”

The rebel delves in for another kiss, a tiny spark catching fire as her hands travel down his torso with a hungry caress. However, before they can reach his belt buckle, he stops her, a sweet smirk across his face. Without ever letting go of her hand, he takes her back to the carved table, where he sits in a purposely open position. However, doubt briefly returns to him just as she curls up in between his legs.

“I told you to take everything the other time, didn’t I?”

“Do you really think this is the place?” he teases, his hands all over her, carefully exploring every little limit each of the curves of her body represents before lovingly conquering the next one.

“What? Are you missing the cell? Or was it the stun cuffs that did the trick for you?”

Luke shakes his head, muffling a chuckle with a kiss under her ear, “I just wished I could give you something better than this rock.”

The rebel briefly thinks of the time she spent in his quarters, of the gigantic bed with silly silk sheets and at least a dozen fluffy pillows to comfortably plop herself on. Yeah, their first time could have been quite comfortable there, in theory. More than on rock and moss, under the cold stars. On the other hand, she doesn’t miss the constant buzz of the imperial cruiser, the many tiny signatures of officers and stormtroopers running around. No, this place feels far more peaceful. It lacks the luxury, but also all those other reminders that she’s already lost him.

Impatient to give herself fully this time, she guides his hands up her waist. Luke barely dares to brush the curve of her breast until she coaxes him to discover the hardness of her nipples through the fabric of her tunic. Watching over her shoulder, burning breath on her skin, his thumbs swivel over them, twisting them subtly between his thumb and middle finger while the index rubs the tip raw until little whines start escaping her throat.

Under her, his hardness grinds against her ass as she unconsciously swivels, anticipating the release of all the pent up heat cruelly repressed all day. The fire has spread to his hands, that turn her around so she faces him, impatiently undoing the laces closing off her dress. His hungry mouth leaves a tingly path of kisses along her collarbone in its way down to her tits, tender and sensitive under the unabashed wet sounds of his suckling. She cries out with that first frenzied attack, making him look up from where he’s devoted to the task of making her lose her mind. As an apology, his tongue becomes gentler, but the girl grabs the back of his hair and brings him closer again, begging for more. After a moaned hum, Luke sucks more intensely again, leaving her weaker by the second and dependent on the support of his arms around her waist.

Unable to bear the insufficient friction any longer, Luke lays her down, spreading his cloak over the carvings to protect her from the cold stone. (Y/N) briefly ponders what could the intended use of this altar have been, the sacred knowledge she should be diligently gathering to study it later, before having to hand this sanctuary over to the enemy. Instead, she’s getting fucked on it. Ravenous hands undo fastenings, take off shoes and outer clothes as their mouths look for each other again. His lips take a detour down the contours of her throat, then her shoulder, setting each centimeter of skin on fire as soon as it’s revealed to the cold night air.

But before Luke can realize his intentions of journeying down her body, she stops him by the collar of his open shirt. Though her anxious hastiness is momentarily driven to his skin as she falls quickly to the allure posed by the mauvish lines of his scars. (Y/N) grips her healthy leg around his waist in order to bring him close enough to kiss them. His heart beats fast under her tongue as she faithfully tends to that darker nest marking his chest, then following the paths of lightning to his neck while her hands caress tingly trails down his hips. Luke curses under his breath.

“Need you,” she begs, rolling her hips upwards against his erection, loving how it grows and throbs following her touches.

“You got me already,” he promises in between kisses, ”you got everything.”

With a quick movement of her fingers, she slips his cock under her panties, rocking her hips against it. “I want you inside.”

“Impatient, aren’t we?”

“I’m serious,” she whines.

“You’re soaking wet.” A note of morbid pride tints his voice, slowly grinding as the movement bulging through her panties teases her lips open. His voice is slipping out already. Their combined dance rubs her swollen clit, each stroke smearing precum on her underwear until the fabric is soaked. “You sure?”

With an excited hum, she captures his mouth again and devours it as his hands tug down on the elastic around her waist to take her panties off, his heated palms always careful to stroke around the bandages on her thigh. She gasps impatiently when she feels the warm pulse of the tip against her, making a nasty wet sound at first contact. Luke strokes her cheek, the gentle caress of his thumb on her lips, gaze locked with hers as they toy with the edge of this one last limit between them. Until, with a dallying thrust, his cock finally delves inside.

Despite the lubrication and his slow advances, the tension pulls a gasp and then a brittle whimper from within her. She’s already had him in her hand and in her mouth, and still she’s clearly overestimated how quickly she could take him.

“You ok?” he asks in a whisper. (Y/N) nods, fervent to deepen this feeling of being stretched so sweetly by him. Even though she shouldn’t find it pleasurable, he does it so deliciously slow she’s willing to take it all. So she wraps her healthy leg around him and brings him closer, making his cock finally sink all the way down into her. Luke shudders and shoots her an exasperated look, though lust-filled still.

“T-too tight.” However, she grips tighter, taken by the tingly wave of euphoria that just washed over her brain, erasing every other thought or sensation that isn't his body on her, breathing fire on her throat, her hole stuffed. “Don't do that, not yet, f-fuck.”

Oh, so he needs a bit to adjust too. It's probably her fault, for rushing into this without proper preparation. She probably shouldn't have, for both of their sakes, but those little whines he's making are too glorious to think of anything else. So she praises him, you're stretching me so nicely, and then he finally thrusts, his motions flowing at a lazy pace, still shy because of the fear of hitting a tender spot. Don't hold back, she begs. As Luke obliges, she lets out a thankful moan while he’s immersed in the slow plunging inside of her, seemingly spellbound.

“That’s it, love. Just like that,” he mutters, his voice hoarse. Luke pounds into her hard yet slow, deep. And yet, not a single time her wound gets grazed or her thigh handled in a way that makes it hurt more than it already does. She aches to switch places and be on top, but her wounded leg won’t let her, rolling her hips desperately to feel him deeper inside. Her frustrations get interrupted by a kiss.

“Please, let me serve you this time,” he pants against her lips, as if he’s sensed her thoughts dispersing. Fuck, of course he’d say this. He’s tried to hide it, but she knows damn well how he’s been enjoying himself all day, trying to help her covertly. “I’ve been needing you for so long. It’s been s-so long.”

She props herself on her elbows to follow after him, to kiss and nibble under his jawline. His hand at the back of her head keeps her close, the intimate gesture radiating a warm feeling that makes her clench harder involuntarily.

“Been missing you too, Luke. I thought of you every waking moment.”

They didn’t dare reach this step their first time together. There was expectation in the air, a need to wait and see where loyalties and affections lied and what might end up weighing more in the scales. Now (Y/N) knows more about her principles than she would have liked. She has seen the cost of his betrayal, tasted the pain and the bitterness of everything she held dear being twisted and stomped until she couldn’t recognize it anymore. And she hates herself for still loving him through it all.

It would be easier if she could keep her love contained in her chest, but she can’t hide it from him. Neither can he keep his own feelings locked down, even if she finds them so hard to believe. Maybe that’s why it’s so easy to give in to the yearning of her flesh.

The tentative taste they had of each other last time now seems like an innocent game. The rebel feels spent and disillusioned enough to recognize the futility in the little hope she kept tucked away that maybe Luke would come to hold her hand and leave the shadow together. Now, pain has ruined her world beyond fixing.

This just feels plain wrong and yet she enjoys it that way.

“That’s it, use me. Please, use me,” he begs, tightly pressing their bodies together so her clit gets that intoxicating friction she’s been chasing. “Use me.”

(Y/N) can’t help but softly whine his name, gripping his hips and steering him deeper into her pleasure before sinking her teeth in his shoulder. The sudden sharpness steals from him a deep moan and makes Luke embrace her even more firmly against him.

“Is it good?” he asks in between hasty exhales, “Please, please, tell me.”

“L-love you inside of me,” she manages to articulate, interrupted by her own voice cracking while trying to repeat it, the word love melting into incoherent whines. Each of those deep thrusts tests the limits of what she’d thought she’d be willing to take.

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

She whimpers, unsuccessful at weaving coherent thoughts. There’s only his hands on her skin, that alluring frontier of his open shirt, an ever moving limit she’s burning to mark with her kisses following the lightning scars. His cock plunging desperately into her, making her head feel light and drunk with lust. Oh, her face must be pitiful right now. “F-feels good. More, please, more."

Limbs entangled, bodies hardly pressed and brushing against each other, Luke huffs loudly in her ear, one hand pressing her hips closer, the other cradling the back of her head. The impatient pounding turns to a deep rocking, smearing their combined juices all over where their skins brush together in the addicting chase of release.

He praises her. So good for me. So nice and wet for me. And that seals it for her. In a broken chain of desperate whimpers she begs him to go faster, she grinds her hips harder against him, fingers digging into her flesh, until her legs shake. Every wave of evergrowing pleasure tightens her up, pushing his cock deeper as delight overflows all of her senses. Her head falls to rest weakly on the arm holding her, tingles still clouding her vision.

A mischievous smirk lights up Luke’s face.

“Did you just cum?”

She can just let out a faint moan in response. He gently brushes her messy hair away from her face in search of the flushed bliss across her cheeks, and he licks his lips as he softly caresses hers. It’s cute how he seems so damn proud of himself.

“Stars, you’re beautiful. That just felt so good, it almost-” One of those last waves tenses her up around him and drowns his words.”S-stop, please.”

“But you just made me cum,” she teases, her body coiling around him with the rolling of her hips, “so hard.”

“Please, sweetheart. I wanna fuck you more.”

Luke leans down to taste her mouth once again, so her yes gets melted together with the blazing kiss. Her body, sensitive and vulnerable, screams from the inside when he starts moving again. Ah, it’s almost too much. Luke spreads her legs wide now, a gloved palm on her injured thigh pushing it up with the utmost care, and slowly picks up the pace. This new angle hits a sensitive spot within her, still tender after her orgasm.

“During every damned boring meeting I�� I could only think of fucking you on the war room table,” he breathes out, railing into her with every word.

“In front of all those generals?”

“Well, no-” but his answer makes her laugh and clench around him, making his whole body shiver. “Oh, fuck.”

Pent up beyond what he can take, broken pleas loosely woven into his loud whimpers, Luke grabs her hips and ruts into them in a frenzy at a deep angle, the desperate thrusts making all of her thoughts vanish. Take it. Take it, he groans, like in a trance, most of his weight pinning her down while her broken sobs are all she has left to express how amazing it feelsple. For her, everything fades except his name spilling off her tongue like a deranged chant.

“Where should I-?” He manages to string out, “…please, tell me, I can't take it anymore.”

“No, you tell me.” She has a feeling that she already knows the answer, but asks anyway, “Tell me where you're gonna cum.”

“I…” he moans. In his eyes she sees how he’s struggling to not completely lose his mind after a whole day of torture.

“Tell me.”

‘I-inside. Let me cum inside you, please. Please, please, please.”

She closes a fist around his hair to bring him close. Do it. Cum for me, she whispers. And the command finally pushes him over the edge. Luke moans her name in her ear, his fingers digging hard into her hips as he comes undone.

With her limbs warmly tangled around him, they find each other for a breathless kiss. However, she finds herself still rolling her hips, enjoying those last lazy thrusts as he becomes softer inside of her, thick cum starting to drip down onto the carved stone. Luke sinks his head into the crook of her neck and, feeling him shiver as the sweat on his back gets cold in the chill night air, she runs her fingers through his hair in a comforting manner while he struggles to catch his breath. There are tears pooling in his eyes when he finally looks at her. It breaks her heart a little how young he suddenly looks to her.

“I love you, Luke.”

However, playfulness glimmers in his gaze too. “I love you.”

(Y/N) is still trying to figure out this little hunch when his right hand starts stroking down her body, giving a soft squeeze to a tit, then caressing down her waist, finally reaching between her legs. The light stroke of his fingers up the overflowing slit unearths a gasp out of her, caressing the sticky mess until they’re slippery enough to swirl around her swollen clit.

“No, wait, I can’t. I just-”

Luke teases her with a wet kiss under her ear. “But you’re so needy still, love.”

She muffles a moan on the back of her hand, ashamed of how her body is opening up so greedy to the new stimulation. Her legs quiver at the intoxicating rhythm of his fingers; it’s too much, too soon. Gloved fingers go in, filling her lusciously, and her hips grind into them on their own.

“Do you like my fingers that much?”

The rebel whimpers, defeated. “So much better than mine. Mine haven’t been enough since…”

“Since what?” Pumping deeper into her makes her words come out pitiful through lewd pants. But perhaps that’s his goal.

“Since you.”

Luke is all her wandering mind has been able to conjure during those few times when she’s managed to find enough privacy to hopelessly ram two fingers into her loneliness, longing for him. Indulging those fantasies always leaves her feeling empty, like she’d just betrayed herself, but her inability to find pleasure in anything else had her always coming back to her memories of him.

Suddenly, she feels a slight tingle on her inner thigh. A kiss.

“Wait, that’s-”

“What?” he taunts, his lips softly brushing up her leg, his fingers still fucking her at a steady pace. Her voice is barely audible over her flustered gasps.

“Dirty.” She stammers, her back arching with anticipation. "Th- this is so unfair,"

"Is it? Then I'll stop."

She sobs broken complaints, wordlessly begging. And Luke understands perfectly. His hand retreats to make room for his tongue, a flat and slow lick upwards, his icy gaze burning into her mind that delirious image of being eaten out right after he came inside of her. Clumsy in his relative inexperience yet desperate, voracious. His presence grows omnipresent on her skin, his flesh hand now caressing her thighs around him, now cupping a breast, while his gloved fingers pound into her relentlessly, his mouth on her cunt.

"Can I make you cum again? Will you let me?"

She looks down at the way his fingers fuck his seed back into her, obscene sounds escaping through his steamy sighs. And, through this unbearable ascent of her incredulous senses, his eyes always demand her attention. A devilish glint in them tells her that he won't allow her release until she begs for it. He goes back to suck on her clit, overstimulation bringing tears to her eyes. He’s on the verge of ruining her forever.

"I can't. Oh, Luke, please. I can’t."

"I think you can, sweetheart."

She can't muster a sliver of authority by this point, but the adoration in his smile confesses his desire to spoil her.

“F-fuck. Yes, please, make me cum.”

"Thank you, love. Now, let go. Cum for me."

The licks become pointed, harder, faster; lips, tongue and fingers slipping over their combined fluids. When she squirms, his left hand lays on her stomach to keep her in place, closer to his face as she weakly tries to writhe away from the intense stimulation. Her trembling legs fight to close around him, helpless to resist the overwhelming delirium turning her senses into a devoted mush.

And then she floats into that white fire. Even through the piercing bliss, she can feel his satisfaction through his pleased moans when she cries out his name, the broken syllables drowned in whimpers. Ah, she’d walk away from everything if he asked now.

“That’s it,” a loving thumb caresses her lower lip, “love seeing you like this.”

It gently enters past her lips, sliding up and down her tongue suggestively. Leather and musk floods her senses as she blissfully lies there, contemplating this creature with the light of the moon behind him spilling a crown of silver on his head, looking down at her like an angel. She can merely drool on his hand as she pitifully tries to recover her breath.

That’s when something grazes her knee, awakening her. He's hard again. So she sits up, eager to tend to him. However, he shakes his head. “Look at you, sweetheart. You barely-”

With a glistening finger, she teases the sensitive spot behind the flushed head “What?”

A muffled moan escapes him, all concerns defeated.

“My beautiful girl,” Luke sighs just as she brings him closer for a kiss, her hand beating him up and down as she satisfies her own ravenous desire to taste them both on his lips.

“Where do you want it?”

“I’d like to be inside you again. But-”

“Then fuck me again,” she smiles. “Please.”

With a passionate kiss, (Y/N) struggles to climb on his lap, but she’s soon taken back by a painful flare on her wound. The captain whines a little, since she’s really eager to ride him until her legs give out. After Luke checks she isn’t in serious pain, he actually finds her pouting adorable.

His kind hands gently bring her down, her back resting on him as he lies behind her, an arm hugging her waist, the other pushing her injured leg up and out of the way. Inside the warm chest pressed against her back, Luke's heart speeds up as his cock slides into her again. Penetration isn't as deep at this angle, but it rubs just right into that delicious spot.

His lips cover her neck with warm, generous kisses, though she can feel him peeking down to what his hand is doing traveling up from her waist to play with her breasts.

“Enjoy the view?” she teases, receiving a muffled hum in response.

Their mouths seek each other, treasuring each dallying thrust. His fingers come to tease her clit, already tender and slick. (Y/N) sobs quietly at the touch, too spent to complain about the maddening pleasure flooding her mind. And in spite of how much it is, far beyond what she can handle, she wants. She still wants hopelessly. What little remains of her, she’s willing to renounce it.

And she yearns to tell him, she’s about to.

However, Luke silences her with another kiss, leaving her to whimper into his mouth as he gently wipes a tear off her cheek. Why? He could have what he came to this damned system for. Just- why?

It’s hard to think while being relentlessly filled by his thick cock, with his hands around her body pushing her down harder into him as he fucks her slowly.

“That’s it, love. Y-you’re taking me so well.” Though she can tell how much it overwhelms him too, Luke is still making the effort to keep holding her, praising her. Completely enveloped by his embrace, she hasn’t felt this safe in months. “Is this good?”

“Y-yeah, so good. So good for me.”

She shifts a bit to lie on her back so she can reach him better. She craves to look into his gleaming eyes as his fingers pick up the pace. Their hips buck into each other hypnotically, overflowing slick running down their legs. Growing needy as he approaches another climax, Luke moans her name, a tug in the Force sinking down into her chest and pulling desperately towards him, as if she’s going to vanish at any moment.

“I’m here, Luke,” she reassures him, brushing away some dirty blond locks from his sweaty forehead. “Just like that. S-so close again, angel. Keep fucking me like that. K-keep…”

His heavy breaths turn into whimpers as words melt off his tongue onto hers, and his embrace grips her closer with the hastening of his thrusts. She cries out in sweet agony, overcome with the combined stimulation, unable to break eye contact. You're gonna make me lose my mind. Need and desire burn in the blue of his eyes, his fingers threadinglo her hair as his other hand turns her anguish into her last, glorious flare of pleasure.

The orgasm tenses her up tightly around him, the aftershocks bringing him down with her along with the cute breaking of his voice, wretchedly loud. Their foreheads come together with those last few attempts to prolong what’s already over, smearing the dripping fluids into a hot, sticky mess over their thighs as his second load starts spilling out, hot and thick.

Lacing their hands together, Luke’s lashes flutter on her cheek. Love you, he breathes.

Theyb stay there for a few moments, limbs tangled. With tears still streaming down her face, (Y/N) trembles because of the exhaustion as much as the biting cold. It's the perfect circumstance to hide a shuddering heart. A warm hand comes to rest on her face, as tender eyes take in the bliss in her features. Luke drapes his cloak over her, a soft smile on his face, so she can’t help but pull him closer under the cloak and kiss him, greedily holding his blazing cheeks between her palms.

“You’re cold, I’m sorry.” His arms envelop her weakened frame. As she nuzzles his shoulder, he lets out a faint chuckle. “In the end you were able to do both things, rebel. Have the prisoner and fuck him too.”

“Not sure if I’ve been a good rebel, though,” she says, tracing a finger down a lightning scar before giving it a light kiss. Luke cradles her head closer, his cheek pressed on her forehead. The heart under her palm, the point from where the mauvish spiderweb expands, slowly relaxes its beating.

His eyes turn up, caught by a far away tingling in his senses. Their time together is coming to a close.

Dreading the possibility of being found naked by the incoming shuttle and her masked pilot, (Y/N) finally sits up to put on her tunic, which Luke imitates, though not without a whiny puff. When sitting up, she realizes the extent of the mess between her legs, though she has no other option right now than get dressed and let it dry on her skin. However, the euphoria of that third high still persists in her brain too much to find it gross.

When looking for the rest of her clothes, a certain item seems to be eluding her. It isn’t long till she spots it in Luke’s hand.

“I kept the other pair. Would you mind…?”

“Starting up quite the collection, Skywalker.”

“Keep the cloak in exchange. You’re gonna need it.” She laughs and nods, after which he puts the ruined panties in his pocket, not without his ears turning red. “There’s something more. When you go find my starfighter, look for the compartment under the pilot seat. What’s in there is yours.”

“Like the rest of the fighter, you mean.”

Luke snorts as he welcomes her on his lap, covering them both with his cloak again. “I’ll let you steal the ship if the idea thrills you so much, but this other thing is a gift. Way better than a hickey, I think.”

She raises an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, did I get you into an uncomfortable situation last time?”

“You hadn’t striked me as someone who’s into that, that’s all. But I did like it.”

Well, that’s a thing she didn’t know about herself until then. Until she left his side and spent the next two days blushing at any sensitive grazing of that tender, violet spot that her demands to be marked resulted in, finding a sick excitement in it. She did her best to keep it hidden, but she wasn’t all that successful this one time her clothes moved accidentally while trying to help her friend run away from imperial blasters. She didn't realize until later, when she was putting staples into Leia’s arm and saw reflected in the princess’ face her exact thoughts about the hickey. She seemed more disappointed than angry. Even shut off from the Force, (Y/N) could sense how sad it made her, alongside the complete lack of strength to scold her about it.

Luke seems lost in his own thoughts too, his fingertips drawing circles on her shoulder. “Remember when we used to teach each other? We could do that again.”

There’s nothing she’d love most. Exchanging the little knowledge they acquired from each of their masters, trying to puzzle together a whole that made sense. It seems they never were all that successful, or they wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

Her voice comes out tiny, fearful. “Earlier, I almost…”

“I know, love. Don’t worry.”

In the heat of passion, for a moment she was about to give in. However, it was Luke himself who kept her from falling. It wouldn’t have satisfied him if she didn’t commit to him clear headed, and he certainly isn’t pressuring her for an explanation no. She combs some hair pieces off his brow and brushes their noses together, thinking about that world he’s about to leave her for.

“Will you be alright with him?”

“Of course.” His hand down her hair offers a comfort she can’t bring herself to believe in fully. “It’s not like you think. He’s… kind to me.”

The word comes out crooked, but she knows he’s telling the truth. Or some version of it. She squeezes his artificial hand, now uncovered as the ruined glove lies on the rock. Her fingertips stumbling on all the telltale signs of worn out synthetic skin, she can think of a few dozen reasons why things are indeed like she suspects, because she can imagine Vader committing a thousand atrocities, and none of them close to being kind. The fact that Luke’s fall happened while she was gone instills a painful jab of guilt. There’s something she must have missed, something vital that changed his world forever and can’t just be explained with words.

Sensing her concerns, Luke sighs. “He likes you better than he’s willing to admit, I know it.”

“Great, just what I wanted to know. Allow me to harbor some doubt, though.” The idea of him talking of her to Vader seems taken out of a fever dream, even in the weird reality she lives now, where everything has been flipped upside down. “You love him, don’t you?”

Luke’s gaze turns to the stars, and in the silence (Y/N) hears all she needs. Even if she’s been trying her best to ignore it, the bond between father and son is almost visible to her, like a thick echo, resounding on everything around them and turning it back into a signal pointed in the other direction. She tries not to wonder how much of what’s happened on Jolah was projected onto it. However, the freezing note characteristic of the Sith lord’s signature still pervades, like a stench that can’t be washed off.

The rebel senses how one of her worst nightmares hovers over her head as the buzzing approaches.

Tears fall on Luke’s knuckles as she kisses them goodbye. Unable to do or say anything of weight, he sweetly takes her flaming cheeks between his hands and seeks her mouth one last time with a mortal hunger written on his lips. She surrenders to his warmth, her tongue deep into the kiss. Their lips dance with a purposely slow passion, an underlying anxiety over the approaching moment of separation looming over them. An open, warm kiss is all they can attempt to sooth each other. It tastes salty. (Y/N) opens her eyes to find that he’s crying too, teardrops caught in his lashes falling to tickle her cheeks.

Looking up at the landing shuttle burns like putting a hand on a hot stove. She prefers to spend these precious last seconds memorizing his eyes, taking advantage of the lights falling from the starship that illuminate his face. As the kiss dies, she registers every single little fleck and threads of blue, that tiny speck of golden brown, how those irises glimmer with bittersweet adoration for her.

She wouldn’t remember the moment his body was torn from hers, only the dark shape of his shoulders walking away from her.

The rebel’s exhausted mind goes to those treasured details as the shuttle flies away. But it isn’t like last time, when she ran off and closed herself to the Force; fearing the pain too much just resulted in this dull void she’s been living in. No, now she can see the shapes of that unbreakable thread weaving their signatures together. It pulls when he jumps to hyperspace, so brutally she’s scared it might tear her apart. However, after the initial shock, it remains there, irremediably binding her to Luke.

(Y/N) awaits for the aftershocks of that ghost pain to subdue a little before standing from the engraved altar.

****

Under the compartment Luke indicated (Y/N) finds a book. An actual book, made out of paper. The captain blinks, astonished to find what she’s sure is poetry written in Huttese, even if she can’t read it. He never mentioned an interest for that sort of thing, even though it’s true that they didn’t have time for almost any kind of leisure at all back in the Rebellion, nor was it something he had access to at home. Right now, this is just another reminder of everything she’s missed in his life.

She flips the yellowed pages, filling her nose with their old aroma. However, there’s another note to it, deep and sweet. Another object lies pressed inside the book. A single Malreaux rose, its darkened petals flattened in between the pages. Her fingertips stroke lightly the stains left by dark pigment, remembering the night she gave herself to Luke for the first time among spilled flowers, their scent mixing with his skin. After this little indulgence, she carefully hides the book in her clothes.

As she quickly does the basic flight checks and maneuvers the starfighter to leave the forest planet of Jolah behind, her hand doubts over the communications panel. She should contact the Rebellion. In a matter of minutes, Han’s voice would fill the cockpit, and she’d be shown the way home. However, she enters a different code, one she isn’t supposed to use except in case of a true emergency, unsure of what she’s even going to say during those dreadful seconds it takes to establish the transmission.

“You got some nerve.”

“Hey, princess.”

Leia sighs, “Already heard of your little feat. If it wasn’t for what you’ve done for the survivors of Jolah, I wouldn’t be picking up.”

“Did they get there safely?”

“Yeah, Han called to tell me.”

Since Leia has been gone from the front to devote herself to the Jedi path, the ex-smuggler has stepped up as a general for the dwindling Alliance. Most of the few that still fight out there answer to him nowadays. Maybe it’s seeing what once was a powerful fleet turned into a guerrilla of a few stubborn rats, but something about the current arrangement doesn’t feel quite right. An inert buzz takes over for a few seconds as both women sit wordless.

“I think I have an idea of how you pulled it off.”

“It’s ok if you’re pissed at me.”

“I am. But I also can’t find the strength to blame you. I’m too damn exhausted. Some people that could be dead lived, that’s what’s important.” Her tone softens a little. “Good job.”

“My pleasure. How have you been?”

“Exhausted. Artoo keeps me company, but he’s spending a lot of time switched off these days. Not that he’s missing anything, just me belly flopping into the mud.”

“And the training?”

“I didn’t think learning to kill would be so awful.” To kill him, is what she doesn’t say.

“Do you think it’ll come down to that?”

“Master Tano thinks so.”

(Y/N) clicks her tongue. “It should be me over there, the Rebellion needs you.”

“No. That’s not your path. I still got your lightsaber and you know I’m of the opinion it should be with its owner. But I don’t think that’s what you should use it for.”

“Why? You’re so confident I’d lose?” They both know the cockiness is fake, but she needs it. Even if she tried with all she’s got, there’s no way she’d win, no matter how much she got to train with an actual master.

“No. I just don’t feel like losing you too. You keep trying to find another way, ok?”

When they say goodbye and the transmission ends, (Y/N)’s not sure how she could have cleared that one out better. She isn’t trying anything, she’s just selfishly stumbling into her desires every time she encounters Luke. Truth is, she’s abandoned Leia to carry everything on her shoulders, a role she’s too eager to fill, even if it breaks her.

(Y/N) pinches her nose. She’s done running. These are words her friend deserves to hear. So the rebel captain sets course, hoping it’s not too late to speak the truth.

****

This transmission with the commander in charge of the division assigned to Jolah is testing the last remains of Luke’s patience. He doesn’t ever enjoy having to mingle with Imperial officers, but today every single second paying attention to this man feels like an unforgivable waste of his time. He’d much rather be left alone with his thoughts.

“Make it effective right now,” he orders. The commander immediately straightens his posture and salutes, feeling how much of a nuisance he’s becoming.

“It will be done, sir. The whole squadron will be sent to Thediyo.”

Those men he’s condemning to the cruel cold of the inhospitable Thediyo aren’t but flies, so the fact that they’re able to do so much harm feels wrong. Absurd. They deserve to be destroyed. He made it well karking clear that they were to make prisoners without harming them, didn’t he? And they just hounded (Y/N) like she was a prey animal, which almost killed her. If they just listened to their orders this wouldn’t have happened to them. And still, they should be thankful for his mercy. It would be so easy for him to crush their puny rib cages and skulls until their eyes pop out.

But something keeps him from giving in to unchained wrath, and it’s the possibility of her finding out. (Y/N) doesn’t deserve to have that in her conscience, and he’s sure she’d blame herself for their deaths. Because she’s actually good. And clean. Way more than she gives herself credit for. No, those men will suffer worse learning to listen to their orders by holding their blasters in the middle of an eternal snow storm until their fingers freeze off.

Luke can sense with distaste his own dark machinations vibrating into the bond next to him, like an insect trapped in a spider web. If his father thinks he’s weak for not just murdering the bastards, he can choke in his disappointment. The same with his thoughts of his whole ordeal. They’re close to winning, right? The Alliance will soon be no more, and he has had an important hand in that. He doesn’t have the right to reproach him about anything. Vader won’t chastise him directly, he rarely does, but the young apprentice knows training sessions are going to become hell from now on, even more of what it’s been. He doesn’t care.

His father’s tutelage has been tough. Back in the day, Yoda’s training had put his mind and body to the test far beyond what he thought possible. But his father’s can’t even begin to compare. Now that he’s endured it long enough, Luke is starting to see the seams that reveal the structure, the reasons behind every exerting challenge. Some things within himself had to be broken in order to build a new kind of power, a lot had to be torn down before his new master deemed the results satisfactory. And he came out of it more powerful than he could have imagined.

It had never been easy. After going to his father, to his family, he looked back and saw all the things he regretted leaving behind. Luke hadn’t held real hope of being followed to this side, except for her. Maybe it was self indulgent, wishful thinking on his part.

(Y/N) knows what he’s done in the frontlines and she’s still managed to look him in the eye. To love him. However, he can’t help but torture himself with the thought that if she knew the ways he’s used to delve deeper into the dark side, she’d immediately go retrieve her lightsaber and end his life with it.

But that selfish little voice wonders why, even after all the sacrifices, all the loses, she can’t see how close the fight is to its end, just as they both wished together in the past. If he could just be made to see…

Shit. That’s an ugly thought. He shouldn't forget he once thought of things in stark white and black terms. Once, falling to the dark side meant the destruction of a person’s soul, left as a hollow husk with no salvation other than slaughter. He'd be lying if he said he doesn't feel empty and beyond help sometimes, often on the battlefield. Killing isn't all that different now than when he did it for the other side, just the same fire and ash, burnt skin. The feeling that he’ll never be able to inhabit his own skin again after staining his hands with so much blood. The only difference lies in the lack of that wretched self righteousness he used to brandish to justify his actions. During the day, at least. At night come the ghosts of screaming, agonizing souls through the Force, right before the void of death. The hole in the fabric of the universe left by the annihilation of the Death Star, hundreds of thousands erased with a movement of his finger. It’s lingered ever since, always in the last nightmare before waking up, always in the corner of his vision and the faint ringing in his ears.

However, he pushed forward. Because it was all supposed to matter, because there was a plan. And then it turned out he’d been lied to. Soon after, (Y/N) was taken. He lost her because he was too soft and undecided. Too weak. He dragged on for a good while that he'd never see her again, that she was gone and it was his fault.

If she had been there that one time he encountered Vader again, after Bespin. It turns out the death mask held more than just the monster. When the lines between life and death, friend and enemy, were blurred, a kind hand capable of kindness was extended to him. It felt like family. There, consumed by shame and impotence, Luke became convinced that he'd never get to feel that again. So when it came down to the decision of killing it along with his father, he found an unexpected comfort in the realization that he'd already made his choice

However, Luke doesn’t appreciate the impatient silence building up next to him, on the pilot seat. One thing that surprised him at first is that his father was a quiet listener, always pacing around the shapes of his thoughts. He also didn't expect not minding it at all, but also missing it when it was gone.

“Go on. Blame me.”

“I do not care. Some worthless flies just escaped for another day. Now matter how hard they wriggle, their downfall is inevitable now.”

“I thought you'd dislike my weakness.”

A discordant note rings through their bond, a bitter echo. It dissolves quickly, leaving the accusation unanswered.

Yeah, he's definitely saving payback for later. He can try all he wants, torture him even. Of all the things Luke regrets, this will not be one of them.

He shakes his head in distaste. The vertigo he felt when he made that jump of faith for his father still echoes sometimes. Even if it was his choice, he sometimes struggles to see if he really had any say in it. It all happened so fast, it was pure instinct.

No, he won't fall to suspicion and start resenting him, that path ends up with an inevitable betrayal. That's the Emperor’s way and, with him gone, his ways must die too, for everyone's sake. Luke has found a new power in the dark side, and he's sworn to use it for good. Until now, he's been successful at keeping that intoxicating darkness at hand, that scarlet rush that tingles through his whole body with the temptation to let go all the way into blind, destructive rage. However, he’s found he can control his passions, harness them into a tool, as much as it hurts.

Luke doesn't care about power, it's just a means to an end. He loathes it. He just wants all this to end

His fingers instinctively go to the inner pocket of his tabard where, kept close to his chest, he put a stem of those little white flowers that grew through the window of his cell. The delicate petals look reasonably intact, though a little sadder than this morning. He better press them soon.

His father subtly turns his head, but he doesn’t say anything. However, the exasperation travels all the way through their bond.

“I don’t blame you. However, this bond… You need to be prepared to be hurt if you keep it.

“You're saying she won't understand.” Luke runs a hand through his hair, feeling the fleeting warmth of her body leave his skin. “You've prepared me for pain, haven't you?”

“I’ve trained you to understand pain. To harness anger into power.”

Only the artificially aided breathing echoes while Lord Vader’s thoughts float far away, somewhere close to those white blooms in his son’s hand. Luke sighs.

“Then it's fine. I'll be hurt for it.”

#the glove stays on #getting plowed in the sacred jedi sanctuary #star wars fanfiction #my writing #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker/reader #luke skywalker smut #dark luke skywalker #sith luke skywalker #dad vader

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