seen from Netherlands
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Awww awww awww he's so cute..
He'd love to sit between your legs chatting about anything and nothing while you play with his hair, feeling the softness against your fingers.
And when a comfortable silence falls between you two he looks up at you with those loving eyes, and that sweet smile..
And you can't help but bend down to leave a soft, (long. Because its Luke freaking Skywalker) kiss on his lips.
the twin suns of tatooine offer no warmth comparable to the sensation of luke skywalker’s hands on your waist. gone is the jedi-trained poise you’ve come to expect, replaced by an fumbling borne out of inexperience and eagerness. as he tilts his head to bridge the final distance, the saline scent of post-training exertion precedes the soft, velvety collision of his mouth against yours. the moment only deepens as he gently catches your bottom lip between his teeth—a playful nip that sends a jolt straight to your marrow.
he then pulls back by a fraction, flaxen hair falling in unruly, sun-bleached disarray across his brow as his face splits into a lopsided grin, a display of boyish delight that makes him look, for all the world, otherworldly. you are fairly certain he is an angel sent from the heavens, though you would never dream of uttering such a thing aloud. the syncopated drumming of your pulse is a rhythm luke is surely aware of, thanks to that force-sensitive intuition of his. and yet your boy only smiles at you. his eyes, a piercing cerulean that holds the depth of mid-rim planets, drink you in as if you were the first horizon he’s laid eyes on. as those familiar smile lines deepen at the corners of his gaze, a burgeoning affection takes hold, defying your shared burdens and the galactic weight of his destiny. a connection so uncomplicated that one might call it “pure love,” provided you possessed the vocabulary to define it as such.
my top 3 star wars husbands as of right now: anakin skywalker, han solo, and luke skywalker
Will Rain
Luke Skywalker x reader
Summary: The undiscovered wonders of Naboo hold many secrets waiting to be found by dear friends.
Word Count: 734
Warning(s): None, pure fluff! (Because Luke deserves every ounce of it). And slight nervousness?
A/N: Happy May the Fourth be with you!! I hope you all enjoy and feedback is appreciated! Thank you to @dragonheartstring360 for giving me this delightful idea!
The heavy scent of rain fills the air in the beautiful countryside along the Theed Palace, providing some much needed respite to the last few long hot days of summer. Relishing in the shade’s delight, you join your beloved and most trusted friend at the base of a set of stone steps.
Calming waves crash along the small pebble beach beneath the large, strong tree. Examining your handful of multicolored pebbles and smooth stones, you turn back to Luke Skywalker, who silently watches you.
“I appreciate you taking the time to come with me.” Your voice bounces against the waves.
“Of course, it’s not like I have anything else to do today.” Luke replies.
Handing a bottle of water to you, the two of you silently gaze past the beach out to the vast dark blue ocean. The strong scent of salt fills your lungs, indicating that summer is indeed here.
Gazing back at Luke, your eyes wander to his ebony set of kimono robes. Feeling the heat radiate off his all-black attire, you can’t help but feel worried for him.
“Aren’t you hot in your robes?” You ask.
“Not really. The weather here is unlike anything I’d imagine. Naboo surely puts the desert and mountains of Tatooine to shame.” He laughs.
“It surely does. I can see why Leia picked this place to rest. Besides the Royal Palace of course.” You answer, stepping up from your place on the steps.
Trekking along the beach, you come across a few freshly occupied small vines of flowers growing against a large trunk of the native tree. Not wanting to disturb the untouched ecosystem, Luke joins your side.
“These flowers, they feel …familiar.” He whispers before you.
“I’ve never seen anything like these before. They must be some kind of lily’s. It’s a shame that they’re down here on the beach. No one can see them.” You advise.
Turning your gaze away towards the island out at sea, its unknown force still calls to you. You and Luke were told not to disturb the delicate process of glass-making, but you can’t help your curiosity.
“Is that a storm forming? We should head back.” Luke cautiously advises.
Gently tugging your arm, Luke practically rushes you back to the courtyard doors. Unfortunately for the two of you, the weather has other ideas. Suddenly, the dark skies light up with a harsh rain storm, pouring the cold droplets down on Theed.
Covering his face, you lead Luke into the balcony's threshold, gasping for air as you both have barely made it in time. Shaking off your barely rain-soaked robes, Luke stares frighteningly at the change of weather. The sweet sounds of your light laughter fill the Palace hallways, swallowing the shock of your almost ruined afternoon.
“Wow, we almost didn’t make it!” You exclaim, spinning on your heel.
Watching the balcony’s stones turn dark and shiny from the large amount of water, you slowly inhale the planet’s scent in this quiet moment. The scent of the damp earth, the crisp droplets of water making landfall, and the ever-present calming sound. Quietly smiling to yourself, you bring your attention back to Luke, who is not enjoying the same state of peace as you.
“Luke, are you alright?” You ponder.
“Yeah, it’s just… I’ve never seen anything like this before. My Aunt and Uncle used to tell me stories about rain and the wonders it's capable of.” He explains.
Hesitantly reaching for the fast dropping rain, Luke quickly pulls his ungloved hand back, as if he’s afraid of nature. Slowly joining him, a cool breeze envelops the both of you.
Taking his left arm, you raise his warm hand on your own. Rubbing smooth circles and lines on his skin, Luke’s breathing begins to return to normal. Pressing soft pepper kisses on each of his knuckles, a small chuckle leaves his lips.
“Here, it’s okay.” You reassure him.
Raising his hand upwards, the cool water easily drenches Luke’s skin. Smiling at this newfound feeling, the sound of thunder claps in the distance, bringing an intensity to the afternoon.
Sitting in the balcony’s doorway, you and Luke sit peacefully together and enjoy the rain with some fresh tea that Winter surprisingly brought you. The soothing pitter-patter of the storm leaves a calming, yet bittersweet remark on Luke’s mind and soul, knowing that the best moments are with the people he loves.
luke skywalker taglist ~
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@nonbinary-tatooine
@kaleidoscope1967eyes
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@sonofthedunes
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@starburstbarnes
@spookyfunhottub
sweet - luke skywalker x reader
luke skywalker is living on tatooine as he prepares to rescue han solo from jabba’s palace. you’re one of many bounty hunters sent to capture him. your mission complicates, however, when the lonely jedi is far too enthusiastic about your company.
bounty hunter! gender neutral reader x pre-rotj! luke
chapter warnings: light drinking, canon-typical violence
a/n: this is just an au where luke is supposed to be keeping a low profile as he hides out on tatooine after esb but he misses his friends and is way too social with strangers as a result. that is all
Luke Skywalker wasn’t easy to find. You weren’t sure if he was evading capture with his Jedi powers, if the Rebels were keeping him well hidden, or both, but your search had spanned two months now and your patience was growing incredibly thin.
You’d heard that the kid had blown up the Death Star, but you weren’t sure why Vader’s orders were to take him alive, or why so much effort was being spent on finding a single pilot. You didn’t normally take large bounties like this, as it was just so much more of a hassle, but under the collapsing economy of the Empire, you were running out of options. This pilot was going to singlehandedly put food on your table. You had a job to do, and more competition than you could handle, but what other option was there?
In your building frustration, you had started getting a bit sloppy. Your ship’s fuel tank being nearly on empty was a clear indictor of that. So, with no other option, you had to stop for fuel on the worst possible planet: Tatooine.
On top of that, you would have to dock at Mos Eisley. Your luck was growing worse by the minute.
Begrudgingly, you landed your ship, haggled with the station crew, and still paid more to fuel up than you should have. By the end of the interaction, you were about to blow a fuse, your anger reaching its limit. You hadn’t been this pissed in a long time, your growling stomach not doing much to ease your stress. So, with very little credits and a sour attitude, you made the trek over to the cantina.
What a shithole, you thought as you walked inside. The cantina wasn’t incredibly crowded tonight, but it was still relatively lively. The band was playing something a bit more relaxing, and you could see the setting suns from the seat you had taken at the bar. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.
The bartender appeared in front of you, staring at you expectantly as your eyes roamed his selection. He didn’t bother with a greeting, but that was fine. You didn’t need one.
“Just beer is fine,” you mumbled, watching as he pulled one out and popped the cap off, “Thanks.”
“You wanna start a tab?” he asked, tired eyes boring into you.
“Yeah, why not.”
You supposed you’d dock at Tatooine for the night. It wasn’t like your bounty would be on this dead end planet anyway. If anything, he was more likely to be tucked away in a secret base, not allowed to leave in fear of being attacked. His status as a wanted man was quite well known, and there’s no way the Rebels would risk letting such a talented pilot slip out of their hands.
“You got anything to eat around here?” you asked, feeling your stomach growl once more.
The bartender must’ve heard it too, because he looked at you with a deeper grimace.
“I can make you a sandwich out of Haroun bread and Worrt meat,” he offered.
Gross, but you’d take what you could get.
“That’s fine, thanks,” you murmured.
He was nice enough to make the sandwich warm for you, and he did his best to make it look appetizing, even adding a little seasoning. You weren’t used to experiencing the kindness of strangers, so you weren’t quite sure how to respond, but you hoped that your gratitude was clear to him.
You studied the patrons as you ate, finally taking in your surroundings in full. A few men were playing some sort of card game you’d never seen before in the far corner, a prostitute sat talking to a potential client in a table to your right, and a few people were sitting close to the band. Prostitutes, gamblers, drunkards—this was all what you’d expected out of a Mos Eisley cantina.
“Ah, so you’ve made it another day.”
You momentarily thought that the bartender was speaking to you, but that hardly made sense. You looked up to see a new customer had entered, sliding into a barstool on your left, leaving an empty seat between you. You couldn’t see the person’s face, as the hood of their cloak concealed their features. From where you sat, you could only make out the outline of their side profile, the dim lighting and setting suns not doing you any favors.
“Seems like it,” the person replied.
The voice was much softer than what you’d expected out of a mysterious cloaked figure on Tatooine, but that was hardly as surprising as their drink order.
“Blue milk?” the bartender asked.
“Please.”
“Not dark blue?”
“I won’t be drinking tonight.”
Who comes to a bar and orders milk? you wanted to ask, but you bit your tongue for now. You still didn’t know whose identity that fabric was concealing, but judging by how friendly they appeared to be with a bartender in Mos Eisley, you were certain they were trouble.
“Suit yourself, kid. Anything else I can get ya?”
The figure seemed to contemplate this for a moment, gloved fingers drumming against the countertop thoughtfully.
“Got anything to eat?”
“That one right there is eating a Worrt sandwich,” he said, pointing at you, “That’s all we really have tonight. Sorry.”
“That’s dreadful,” they said quietly, not bothering to look at your plate, “I don’t need anything nutritious.”
“You’re asking if I have dustcrepes.”
“Sorry,” the voice was sheepish now, and you were willing to bet that the person under the hood was blushing, “Haven’t had anything sweet to eat in a while. I was just curious.”
“They’re not actually sweet, kid.”
“Nothing sweet ever came from Tatooine.”
The bartender laughed before disappearing for a moment, bringing back a plate with a singular dustcrepe on it. You were surprised to find that it didn’t look that bad.
“I hope this isn’t your only one,” the figure said softly, not yet sticking their fork into the treat, “I don’t want to take it from someone else—“
“Just eat the damn thing, kid. You’ve done enough for me. Least I can do is let you have the last dustcrepe.”
Hesitantly, the gloved hand cut a small piece of the crepe off, and you watched as the person’s shoulders relaxed when they finally took a bite. You had finished your sandwich now, but it wasn’t enough after several days of eating dried fruit and nuts, so you really couldn’t be blamed when another growl sounded from it.
The bartender turned to you, but the figure did not, now just sitting perfectly still.
“I know Worrt meat ain’t much. I’m sorry,” he apologized, wiping some sweat from his brow with a towel.
“It’s fine,” you murmured, embarrassed by your appetite, “I just haven’t been eating a lot lately. It’s my own fault. Thanks for the sandwich.”
You jumped in your seat when you saw the gloved hand extending in your direction, but the reflex to grab your blaster was tamed when you saw that half of the stranger’s dessert was being presented to you.
“What?” you asked, bewildered.
“Take half,” they insisted, nudging the food in your direction, only tilting their head slightly. You could make out their nose and a small part of their lips, but the dark shadows the hood was casting still made discerning any details difficult.
“No,” you replied, still confused, “I just ate. You haven’t eaten yet.”
“You’re hungry,” they said simply.
“It’s yours. You bought it.”
“Have you ever had a dustcrepe?”
“What? No?”
“Then at least try it.”
“He’s not gonna give up,” the bartender interrupted, a small smile on his lips, “He’d give you the shirt off his back if you asked for it. Just the type of guy he is.”
“Don’t ask me to take off my clothes,” the stranger mumbled, and you nearly laughed in spite of yourself, “But he’s right. I’ve decided that you’re going to share this with me, and it seems like you want to, so take it.”
Reluctantly, you took the crepe from his hand, your fingers brushing his as you did so. You felt no heat from his palm, and you made a mental note that he must have had some type of prosthetic. Interesting, but not nearly as important as the treat you had just bitten into, which was probably the best thing you’d tasted in a long time.
“Good, right?”
“It is,” you admitted, “Thank you.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s one of my favorites, and I think everyone—“
He was cut off by someone tapping his shoulder, and he reflexively spun around in his seat to see who was trying to get his attention, consequently turning his back to you.
“I haven’t seen eyes like that around here in forever,” the culprit—one of the prostitutes you’d seen earlier, you realized—said, and you were suddenly envious that this woman had seen the kind stranger’s face and you had not.
“Oh,” the man said, seemingly dumbfounded, “But I was here yesterday?”
“It’s a shame you’re hiding such a handsome face,” she continued, ignoring his comment and taking a seat in his lap, “It’s a crime, really.”
“Thanks?” he all but squeaked, his hands flying up in an attempt to put some space between the two of them.
“Leave him alone, Pella,” the bartender huffed, sounding tired.
She sighed and climbed off of him, instead standing behind him and spinning him around to face the counter again.
“But just look,” she said, one hand on his shoulder and the other on top of his hood, “At those eyes.”
Before he realized what she was doing, she yanked down his hood, exposing his face to the entirety of Mos Eisley. The bartender rolled his eyes and no one else seemed to be particularly interested in the interaction, but you were floored.
Yes, he was beautiful. He had wispy blond locks that curled around his ears and a jaw that was strong but cheeks that were soft. You weren’t facing him directly, and yet you could still understand what she had meant about his eyes. They were a light blue, like the crystal waters of a much kinder planet than Tatooine, and shone even in the dim lighting of the cantina. His looks, however, were only a secondary thought to you at the moment, because there, in a tiny bar in the Outer Rim, sat Luke Skywalker.
“Son of a bitch.”
His eyes flickered to you in an instant, and he seemed to realize that your hand was hovering above your holster before you did.
“Don’t try it,” he pleaded, looking back up at you, “I don’t wanna hurt you.”
You weighed your options for a moment, and ultimately decided on unsheathing your blaster anyway, lunging out and grabbing the woman, pressing the barrel of your weapon to her temple. She screamed and kicked your shin, which hurt quite a bit, but you weren’t about to let anything stand in the way of you and this bounty.
“Hey!” the bartender shouted, coming out from behind the counter to confront you, “I make you a sandwich and you start pointing blasters at women in my bar? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“My business is with him,” you replied coldly, staring at Luke, “Drop any weapons you have.”
He was standing now, and with a sigh, he unclipped a blaster from his utility belt. You eyed him skeptically, but he just shook his head.
“Lost the saber when I lost the hand,” he told you, wiggling his gloved fingers at you in a way that almost felt sarcastic, “What now?”
His attitude wasn’t as annoying to you as it should’ve been, but you still glared. Keeping your blaster pointed at the woman, you quickly reached into your pocket, tossing a pair of handcuffs at the bartender.
“Cuff him. And if they don’t look tight enough, I’ll shoot her. Understand?”
When the bartender hesitated, you shoved your blaster harder into her temple, making her cry out in pain.
“I’ll be fine,” Luke told him, giving him a soft smile, “You don’t need to worry.”
The bartender still frowned, but he reluctantly reached forward, grabbing the cuffs.
“Behind his back,” you ordered.
Luke rolled his eyes and turned around, offering his hands to the bartender. He didn’t react as the cuffs were fitted tightly around his wrists, but you could see that they had to be painful.
“Okay,” you breathed out, shoving the woman forward and taking hold of Luke instead, “We’ll be out of your hair now. Apologies to the lady, and thanks for the food.”
“I’ll be fine,” Luke called out over his shoulder, apparently unbothered by your blaster pressing into his side as you guided him to the door, “Thank you for the crepe!”
When you exited the cantina, you roughly shoved him forward, now keeping your blaster level with his back.
“Walk that way,” you demanded, pushing him towards the direction of your ship.
“You shouldn’t have scared that woman like that,” he said quietly, though he obeyed your orders and began walking.
“She’ll be fine. She’s alive, isn’t she?” you countered.
“You didn’t have to threaten her.”
“She’s a prostitute at Mos Eisley. I’m sure she’s seen scarier people than me.”
“So? She’s still a person. And she has nothing to do with this.”
“Are you scolding me?” you finally asked in disbelief.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, looking ahead as he continued to walk, “I’m not trying to scold you. I just meant that other people didn’t need to get involved.”
In the span of thirty minutes, Luke Skywalker—the pilot who blew up the Death Star and wielded a lightsaber—had shared his crepe with you, scolded you for scaring a woman while trying to take him as a hostage, and then apologized for it. You briefly wondered if you had passed out from exhaustion and were having some sort of lucid dream.
“Why are you on Tatooine?”
“I’m from here. Why are you?” he countered, though it was without venom.
“Why are you here now? And because I almost ran out of fuel looking for you. I had no idea you’d be drinking blue milk in Mos Eisley, of all places. What’s up with that?”
He shrugged, silently continuing his trek. You walked a little faster and shoved your blaster into his spine as hard as you could, making him falter slightly.
“What?” he snapped, turning to look at you.
You tried not to lose your breath at the sight of his golden hair gleaming in the sunset, the sky’s soft orange hues making his blue eyes seem even more striking. You failed, exhaling deeply as you stared at him, bewildered by his beauty.
“What?” he asked again, this time with furrowed brows and genuine confusion.
“Nothing,” you grumbled, “Answer my questions.”
“None of it really matters,” he replied, turning and walking again, “Just stuff that doesn’t really concern you or your mission, I guess.”
“You don’t even know what my mission is. Why are you on Tatooine?”
He was silent for a moment, but eventually decided to humor you.
“You were expecting me to have another weapon. Was the lightsaber mentioned in my profile when you took the commission?”
“Yes,” you admitted, “It stands out. Not many people have those these days.”
“I suppose not,” he hummed, “Well, like I said, it’s gone. And I need another one. So here I am.”
“That doesn’t explain anything. Why are you here?”
“Looking through a dead guy’s stuff for some information on building a lightsaber myself. Among other things.”
“Among other things,” you mocked, rolling your eyes, “Why do you need a lightsaber anyway? Nothing beats a long range blaster.”
“You sound like my friend,” he said, chuckling quietly, “I’m a Jedi, so I need a lightsaber.”
“You’re not a Jedi,” you scoffed, not believing him for a second, “They’re extinct, but even if they weren’t, you wouldn’t be one. You haven’t even tried to fight me once. You’re weak.”
“I don’t need to fight you,” he said simply, “Because you won’t hand me over.”
The statement surprised you, and you felt the dam holding back the pent up frustration from the day snap. You finally made it to your ship, and you roughly shoved him inside, dragging him to the front of the small vessel and pushing him down into the co-captain’s chair. You loomed above him, pointing your blaster at the center of his forehead now, glaring at him.
“I will,” you seethed, your other hand falling to his shoulder to keep him in place, “I wish I could just kill you now and save myself the trouble of having to hear your voice all the way to the rendezvous point.”
“Where’s the rendezvous point?” he asked, cocking his head at you as if you weren’t holding a loaded weapon to it.
“I’m not—What the fuck is wrong with you? You should at least humor me a little and act like your life is in danger. This is bad for my self esteem.”
He laughed at that, showing off his stupidly perfect white teeth.
“My life’s not in danger,” he said, bringing his hands out from behind his back and holding them up to show you that his handcuffs were gone, “See? I’m all good.”
You stared at him in disbelief for a second, his freed hands mocking you and all you’d worked for.
“I’m gonna kill that bartender,” you announced calmly, turning to exit your ship again. You pushed the button to open the cockpit’s door, but it only parted halfway before slamming shut again. Puzzled, you smashed the button again, much harder this time, only for the exact same thing to happen. Finally, you turned to Luke, whose hand was outstretched, open palm facing you and the door.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, letting it fall back to his side, “But I can’t let you kill the bartender. He’s a nice guy. Also, he was true to his promise. He really had those cuffs on tight.”
“What did you just do?” you asked, dumbfounded.
“The Force,” he explained, still seated, “I’m a Jedi. I told you that. You should tell the Guild to update their records.”
You circled him slowly, now even more suspicious of him than before, and you raised your blaster again.
“I think Vader would understand if I killed you now. You’re freaking me out a little.”
“You’re funny,” he said sincerely, waving his hand again and sending your blaster flying across the room, “You seem to have a pretty good sense of humor. We could’ve had a nice conversation at the bar instead of doing all of this.”
You stared at your weapon in the corner, once again at a loss for what to do. You were a pretty talented bounty hunter, and you were confident that you could put up a decent fight against Luke, but you had no experience fighting Jedi.
“I’ve had a really long day,” you confessed, eyes darting between Luke and your blaster, “I’m pretty emotionally exhausted. I’m too tired to even be that pissed at you right now, and I really wish I wasn’t, because I really want to beat the hell out of you for giving me such a hard time, but unfortunately, I’m broke, and this job was supposed to be my ticket to financial security, so if you could just stop fucking things up and—“
“And what? Go and die quietly?” he interjected, quirking an eyebrow at you, “I’ve got things to do too, y’know. Can’t get myself killed just yet.”
“He wants you alive.”
“And then when I won’t do what he wants, he’ll kill me. I don’t have time for that right now.”
“Darth Vader put a bounty out on you and you’re worried about it getting in the way of your work schedule?”
“It’s important work,” he offered, shrugging again.
“Funny,” you huffed, feeling quite defeated, “Well, fuck me I guess. Why didn’t you take the handcuffs off sooner? Actually, why did you even come with me in the first place?”
“I haven’t spoken to someone my own age in two months. And you seemed nice.”
You had never been called nice a single time in your life. You were stunned, swallowing hard for a moment before speaking again.
“Well, sorry to have disappointed you.”
“You didn’t disappoint me. This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I never get to talk to anyone these days. Being stuck here for two months has been draining, and—“
“You’ve been here for two months?” you asked, backtracking slightly.
“Yeah, around that long. Why?”
You had gone to eight different planets looking for this guy, and the entire time, he had been here, drinking blue milk and making friends with bartenders.
“Ah,” he said then, as if he understood your frustration, “Sorry to have caused you so much trouble. I’m sure it’s not nearly as much as whatever my bounty is, but since I can’t let you take me in, I can at least give you some of the credits I have—“
“What’s wrong with you? Why are you offering to compensate me when I just kidnapped you?”
“You didn’t kidnap me,” he corrected you, “I came willingly. And it’s fine. You were never going to actually turn me in anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Why do you keep saying that? I fully intended on bringing you in before you started moving shit around with your mind.”
“I can just tell,” he said simply, shrugging again.
You sighed, collapsing into the pilot’s chair and crossing your legs.
“Well, since I can’t shoot and kill you, and now I also can’t kidnap you, I guess you’re free to go.”
Just as the words left your mouth, your ship made a horrible creaking noise, causing you to shoot up out of your chair. To your surprise, Luke followed suit, gently placing a comforting hand on your arm. You wanted to slap him away, but you found yourself liking the light touch more than you anticipated, your cheeks flushing. He really was beautiful, but he was still supposed to be your bounty.
“It’s just the wind,” he reassured you, offering you a small smile, “But I wouldn’t go out in that right now. It could mean that a storm is approaching.”
“A storm? It doesn’t rain here, does it?”
“Not that kind of storm,” he replied, “A dust storm. It could be nothing, but when the wind picks up like that at night—“
He was interrupted by another strong gust rocking the ship forward, and he winced. He leaned forward to look through your windshield, and sure enough, considerable amounts of sand had started blowing through the air, and the suns had now nearly fully set. Even if you wanted to get Luke off of Tatooine, there was no way you could travel in this.
“If you want me to leave, I should probably do that now,” he said awkwardly, staring through your windshield.
“Is letting you out gonna blow a ton of sand into my ship?” you asked tiredly.
“Um, probably. Sorry.”
“How long will this last?”
“I’m not sure. Could be an hour, could be more. They usually get worse at night and settle by morning.”
“I just want one stroke of good luck,” you groaned, running your hand through your hair, “Whatever. Just stay until it’s over.”
He gave you a curious look at that, which would’ve been cute on anyone else; however, seeing as he had just extinguished your dream of financial stability, you were still a bit resentful.
“Okay,” he replied, smiling a little, “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“I’m not doing it for you. My ship is already falling apart, and exposing the inside to a dust storm is just gonna be another nail in the coffin.”
“If you say so,” he hummed, sitting back down, “So, you’re a bounty hunter?”
“We don’t need to make small talk.”
“Yes, we do. It’ll be awkward if we don’t. And I’m genuinely interested. Like I said, I haven’t seen someone my own age in two months. You can humor me a little.”
You sighed, long and drawn out to make your misery clear to him.
“Fine,” you hissed, “Yeah, that’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”
“Not really. You’re pretty laidback for a bounty hunter.”
“And now you’re insulting me. You’re the gift that keeps on giving, huh?”
He had the audacity to giggle at that, and you could’ve sworn that your heart stopped beating for a moment. There was no way that this was the same person who blew up the Death Star. There had to be some sort of mistake.
“I didn’t mean it as an insult. Just that you’re not wound so tight that you start killing everyone in your path. Most bounty hunters are like that, in my experience at least. Not to generalize or anything.”
“You have a lot of experience with bounty hunters?”
“Well, yeah. I’m a bounty, after all.”
“Right,” you huffed, crossing your arms and relaxing a little, “And what? Others have found you before?”
“You’re the sixth this month.”
You sputtered for a moment, unable to conceal your surprise. You’d known that you probably weren’t the first person to run into Luke, but five others? This month?
“You’re full of shit,” you argued, narrowing your eyes at him, “Those are hunters from the Guild. You would have been captured by now. I don’t believe you.”
“Sorry?” he replied, looking a little uncomfortable, “You don’t have to believe me, but I don’t really have any reason to lie to you.”
“Yes, you do,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. Your ship made another horrible noise then, and your stomach churned when another gust of wind forced itself against your only mode of transport.
“It’ll be okay,” he said, standing and walking towards the entrance to your ship, “But if you’re really worried about sand, we should stuff some fabric in these cracks. You should really have this resealed, actually. Do you not get cold from the air seeping in?”
“What, you’re making renovations now?” you scoffed, standing and following him as he walked down the corridor, “Hey! Where are you going?”
“To get fabric,” he called back, and he was gone.
You jogged to catch up with him, only to be floored when you saw him wave the door to your quarters open with his hand. That should’ve been impossible, but you supposed he was full of surprises.
“You can’t just barge into my room,” you snapped, putting an arm in front of him and slamming the button to shut the door.
“Don’t complain when your loading ramp is covered in sand tomorrow morning.”
You stared at him for a second before begrudgingly relenting, slamming the button once more. He smiled at you as he stepped into your quarters. You were hoping that he wouldn’t try to read you by studying your room, but your hopes were shattered when he made his way to a small desk in the corner.
“Is this an N-1 Starfighter?” he asked, staring at a model ship you had sitting on the desk, “I used to collect model ships. I never had this one though.”
“Yes,” you snapped, stepping between him and the desk, “I killed a guy for that. Don’t touch it.”
“Can I touch it?”
“I just said—“
“I won’t break it. I swear. I can be delicate.”
“Fine,” you hissed, reluctantly placing the model in his hands, “But if you break it, you have to let me take you to Vader.”
“Sounds fair,” he agreed, even though trading his life and freedom for the chance to hold an N-1 model hardly seemed fair to you at all.
You tried not to look at him at all as he admired the ship in his hands. You tried not to notice how his eyes lit up and his entire body visibly relaxed. You hadn’t even realized he’d been tense until now. His gloved thumb gently traced the doors, and with all the care he could muster, he tapped the tiny droid you had placed inside.
“It even has an astromech,” he mused happily, and for whatever reason, he felt compelled to meet your eyes then.
His beauty was truly unfair. Even in the dim lighting of your ship, his eyes still sparkled, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he’d look like in broad daylight. Divine, surely.
“Um, yeah,” you replied, voice strained, “I found that separately.”
“It’s a good addition,” he praised, smiling at you, “I have an astromech myself. Flying isn’t the same without him.”
“The R2 unit,” you said, recalling its mention in his commission profile.
“His reputation precedes him then,” he chuckled, shaking his head fondly, “Makes sense. Big personality for a little droid.”
“I wasn’t aware that droids had personalities.”
“I’ve met droids more personable than some people.“
“Seems more likely that you’re just projecting your big personality onto them,” you scoffed.
He smiled at you again and gently placed the model back into your hands.
“Thanks for letting me look at it. That’s probably the nicest model ship I’ve ever seen.”
“Whatever,” you murmured.
Your ship made another creaking sound then, and tilted more than it should have at the next gust of wind. To your horror, you were knocked off kilter, N-1 model flying out of your hands as you fell towards the floor.
Luke caught you before you collided with the ground, but you hardly cared. You shoved him off of you as you scanned the ground for the model ship, and you began to panic when you couldn’t find it.
“It’s fine,” he assured you, and your head snapped up to see the tiny N-1 Starfighter hovering level to where you’d been holding it. You looked to see that his other hand was outstretched; he appeared to have used his powers to keep both you and your prized possession from hitting the floor.
Relieved as he gently moved the model back into your hands, you sighed and placed it in your desk drawer. You’d keep it there until your ship stopped swaying in the violent winds of Tatooine. You didn’t bother thanking him.
“Do you have any extra sheets or blankets? We can use those to seal the gaps for now,” he said, reminding you of why you’d both come into your quarters in the first place.
“A few, yeah,” you mumbled, pulling some extra sheets from the drawers under your bed. You tossed a couple into his hands, and the two of you exited your quarters and made your way back to the entrance.
He got to work immediately, stuffing the sheets into the cracks that ran along your door. You didn’t offer assistance, instead standing with your arms crossed in front of your chest as you watched him. He was out of sheets, but a small portion of the seal still remained unattended.
“Do you have any more?” he asked, turning back to look at you.
“No,” you snapped, glaring at him, “Can’t you use your cloak?”
He cocked his head at you then, and pursed his lips together in what may have been annoyance. Seeing his expression venture anywhere near irritation was surprising to you at this point, and you wondered if you should continue giving him a hard time just so you could see him lose his composure a little. Maybe then you could finally gain some insight into why the Empire regarded him as such a great threat.
“I told you not to ask me to take my clothes off,” he joked weakly, though he looked a little uncomfortable.
“It’s the perfect size. Why not?”
“I just don’t want to,” he huffed, seeming torn between honoring your request and keeping his robe on.
“Not very noble of you, Jedi.”
“Don’t do that,” he said, eyes narrowing at you, “You’re trying to get under my skin. If I’m stuck here until the storm blows over, shouldn’t we at least be civil?”
“Your stoicism is annoying me. I can’t be civil if I’m annoyed.”
He stared at you for a second before sighing, his shoulders slumping a little.
“Sorry?” he replied, brows furrowed, “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to be acting, but I can be quiet for the rest of the night if that helps.”
For some reason, you were beginning to regret trying to annoy him. He wasn’t actually growing irritated with you; he just seemed hurt.
“I’m going to bed,” you said then, deciding this was a bandaid fix to your growing uncertainty surrounding your bounty, “I guess you can leave when the storm calms down, since I’m apparently not going to turn you in. Don’t break anything.”
“Oh,” he mumbled, seemingly surprised by your response, “Okay. Well, it was nice meeting you.”
“Wish I could say the same,” you murmured, and with that, you stormed off towards your quarters, managing not to look back at him a single time.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
Sleep didn’t come easily to you. Perhaps it was because you had left a supposed Jedi unattended in your cockpit, or maybe it was because of the harsh wind blowing against the side of your ship, which was already in worrisome condition. Regardless of the reasoning, you were struggling to rest.
After a few hours of trying in vain to sleep, you finally decided to give up. In your night robes, you ventured back into the cockpit, half expecting Luke to have vanished into the night.
How wrong you were.
There, having leaned the co-pilot’s chair as far back as it would go (which wasn’t very far, admittedly), sat Luke Skywalker. His knees were pulled to his chest, and his head rested against the back of the chair, his eyes closed. A shiver passed through him, and only then did you realize that he wasn’t wearing his cloak. You walked back towards the entrance door then, only to see that he had, in fact, shoved his robe into the remaining gaps. You sighed, a degree of guilt you hadn’t felt in years creeping up on you and gripping your conscience.
Reluctantly, you returned to the cockpit and roughly shook him by his shoulders. He jolted awake, eyes wide as he momentarily panicked. Much to your dismay, he immediately relaxed upon realizing it was you. This was an insult to your career.
“Is the storm over?” he asked, voice strained and raspy from sleep. You hated how attractive you found it.
“No,” you mumbled, unable to stop yourself from staring into his soft, tired eyes, “Come on.”
Confused, but willing to follow you anyway, he stood, trailing behind you as you led him back towards your quarters.
“Get your cloak,” you snapped when you passed the entryway, and he quickly complied.
“Some sand might get through—“
“I don’t care. Just take your shit.”
“Okay,” he replied, stifling a giggle. You rolled your eyes.
When you entered your quarters, you climbed back into bed. He stood, looking a little uncomfortable, but he didn’t say anything. Begrudgingly, you tossed a pillow down onto the rug next to your bed.
“Not being able to see you is stressing me out,” you said then, trying to sound as menacing as you could. Apparently, your efforts were in vain.
“Aw,” he hummed, taking a seat on your rug, “That’s sweet. Thank you.”
“I meant—“ you began, but you sighed in defeat when you caught sight of his sleepy smile, “Okay, whatever. I’m going back to sleep. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, still grinning at you, “Goodnight. Thanks for the pillow.”
You didn’t reply, instead turning on your side so you wouldn’t have to look at him.
This was the most troublesome bounty you’d ever agreed to.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
You weren’t sure why, but you awoke with a start, unable to breathe. You gasped and reached for your weapon, your fight or flight response immediately kicking in. When you were able to fully open your eyes, you realized in terror that you were face to face with a Trandoshan, his hands around your throat and his claws digging into your skin. Eyes widening, you managed to clutch the small knife you kept under your pillow, and shoved the blade into the side of the creature’s neck. He howled out in pain just long enough to allow you to roll out of your bed. You hit the floor hard, but managed to recover as you finally made it to your feet. Your blaster sat on your desk, and you made a beeline for it as you continued to cough from the assailant’s attack on your throat.
As your fingers wrapped around the handle of your blaster, you suddenly felt claws digging into your ankle, pulling you backwards and making you hit the ground again. You gasped, the air having been knocked out of your lungs, but didn’t release your hold on your blaster. The Trandoshan lifted you by your ankle and slammed your body onto the floor, your head making a horrible sound as it collided with the steel below. Grunting, you held onto your blaster for dear life, trying to think clearly enough to fend off the attack on your life.
You feigned unconsciousness if only to stave off another collision with the floor. The Trandoshan moved to kick your blaster from your hand then, but in a panicked effort to save yourself, you rolled to the side. You caught your attacker off guard enough to fire a shot to his knee, but knowing Trandoshans and their cockroach-esque abilities, it wouldn’t be enough. You fired off another shot into the creature’s neck, near where you’d shoved the blade, and you finally managed to bring him to the ground. Heart beating fast, you pointed your blaster at his head and kept your finger on the trigger until you were sure he was no longer breathing.
Hearing a commotion elsewhere on your ship, your adrenaline motivated you to race down the corridor and into the cockpit. To your horror, you saw that three more Trandoshans had infiltrated. You were confused by the corpse of one sitting on the floor next to a defeated assassin droid, but your confusion was quickly resolved when you caught sight of Luke standing on top of the co-pilot’s chair. He was unarmed, and yet a Trandoshan and assassin droid lay dead on the ground. You couldn’t wrap your head around it.
“You are outnumbered,” one of the Trandoshans hissed, blaster pointed at Luke.
Luke caught sight of you then, and before you knew what was happening, your blaster was flying through the air and into his hand.
“Hey!” you shouted, but he ignored you as he quickly fired a round into the two Trandoshans standing in front of him. You weren’t able to warn him about the lack of ammunition in your blaster before it was too late, and he frowned as he realized that he no longer had a weapon. The last Trandoshan charged at him then, but he dodged the attack by jumping off of the chair and landing gracefully on his feet.
The attacker shot at him as he skillfully evaded the bullets. You were impressed, but you couldn’t help but frown as your floors were maimed. Luke kept him firing until the Trandoshan was out of ammunition as well, leaving him with no choice but to engage the Jedi in close combat. Luke had no problem with this, practically dancing around the Trandoshan as he fended off his attacks. The creature did finally land a hit on him, however, and you winced as blood trickled down his nose.
You ran towards your arsenal then, deciding that Luke no longer had the situation under control. You picked up two more blasters and then scurried back into the cockpit, ready to shoot down the intruder. When you arrived, however, the Trandoshan’s feet were no longer touching the ground. You followed his panicked gaze until your eyes landed on Luke, whose outstretched hand appeared to be the culprit behind the floating creature in your cockpit. His expression was sharp as he clutched his hand into a fist, and with a final gasp, the Trandoshan fell to the ground, dead.
Luke panted, walking backwards until the back of his knees hit the co-pilot’s chair. He collapsed onto it then, trying to catch his breath as he sat with his head in his hand.
Only then did you finally begin to realize the danger he posed. You had struggled to take out one Trandoshan, and he had managed to kill four and an assassin droid in the same amount of time. He was only armed for two of those kills, and you felt a little sick at the realization that you had been sleeping in the same room as a man who could choke people with his mind.
Blood trickled from his nose and down his chin, but he seemed rather indifferent to it. Sighing, you approached him cautiously, blaster still in your hand as you neared the man in your cockpit. He must have sensed you growing near, because his eyes flew open and he looked up at you.
“Hey,” he greeted you softly, his voice strained, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
You stared at him for a second, bewildered by the implication that he’d intended to fight off all of the attackers on his own while letting you sleep.
“One of them made it into my quarters,” you replied, unsure of what else to say. His face fell, and he stood to survey your body for an indication that you were hurt. You weren’t sure how, but he managed to find one, and you froze when his gloved hand caressed your cheek.
“You’re injured,” he said in between his ragged breaths, hand moving to touch your forehead, “Where’s your ‘fresher?”
You blinked at him and pointed down the hallway, unable to protest as he grabbed your hand and dragged you to your own restroom. Blood still dripping down his face, he made you sit on the lid of the toilet as he searched for a first aid kit. He really must have had some unnatural ability to find what he was looking for, because he returned with it in his hand.
“You’re bleeding,” he told you then, kneeling in front of you as he put a cloth under your nose, “Blow.”
You obeyed, a little dazed, but he stopped you.
“Not that hard,” he chuckled, and you rolled your eyes and blew your nose a bit more gently. He folded the cloth then and made you lean forward a bit, placing it in your hand and making you hold it. He then guided your other hand to pinch your nose.
“Sit like that for a few minutes. Don’t blow your nose again unless I tell you to.”
“You’re bleeding,” you told him, your own voice coming out as nasally. You cringed at the sound, but he giggled.
“Yeah, but you’re the one with a likely concussion. I’m alright.”
He leaned over your sink as he tended to his own nose, and you frowned when he spit a bit of blood into it, quickly rinsing it down by turning on the faucet.
“Who were they?” you finally asked, beginning to sort through the haze in your brain.
“Trandoshans. Dangerous, known for hunting Wookiees—“
“I know what Trandoshans are,” you snorted.
“Sorry, right. You’re a bounty hunter. I didn’t know what they were until a few months ago when they started trying to kill me, but then again, I’m from the middle of nowhere. Anyway, yeah. They broke in—you really need to get your doors fixed—because they saw us leave the cantina together. They were after me. I’m sorry that you got hurt.”
He sounded so sad towards the end that you could hardly stand it, and you couldn’t get over how ridiculous he was for apologizing for attracting additional bounty hunters when you were the one who had kidnapped him in the first place.
“I made you come here against your will. Don’t apologize for my mistakes,” you murmured.
Perhaps it was the mental fog resulting from your possible concussion, but you felt a little more relaxed around him than before. Considering how you’d just seen him decimate an entire group of bounty hunters, it was certainly a little ironic. Still, he was tending to your wounds and profusely apologizing when it wasn’t even his fault to begin with, and you couldn’t help how fascinated you were by his actions. You’d never met anyone like him.
“I could’ve left. I’m from Tatooine, you know. I could’ve handled the storm,” he mumbled, spitting some more blood into your sink.
“I told you not to. Because of the sand,” you reminded him.
“But I should’ve known that staying was risky. I put you in danger because I was being selfish. I’m sorry,” he said seriously, meeting your eyes with an expression so sad that you wanted to throw up.
“It was my poor judgment. Not yours,” you replied, voice quite stern despite the nasally pitch that pinching your nose made inevitable.
“No,” he mumbled quietly, cheeks a little red, “I wanted to stay. I was looking for a reason to. It’s my fault you got hurt.”
“What?” you asked, confused by his admission, “Why? I was trying to kidnap you.”
“I mean, I could’ve gotten out of that,” he replied, gesturing towards the bodies in your cockpit, “I just didn’t want to. You’re really interesting, and like I said, I haven’t spoken to anyone my own age in two months now, and you’re really funny—“
“You’re insane,” you mused in disbelief, “You’re so lonely that you’d befriend someone who’s actively trying to get you killed?”
“You make it sound embarrassing,” he grumbled, frowning. It was cute.
“It is embarrassing,” you teased, staring at him as he tried to stop his nose from bleeding, “You should be more careful. What if I had hurt you while you were sleeping?”
“I would’ve woken up,” he argued, “Look, I’m not trying to sound arrogant or anything, but I really think I could’ve held my own against you. And besides, you weren’t gonna turn me in.”
“How would you know?”
“I sensed it,” he replied, grinning. A little bit of blood had pooled around his teeth. Sighing, you tore off some toilet paper and stood, shoving it into his mouth. He squawked in surprise, hitting his head against the wall as he walked backwards. After you wiped the blood from his teeth, you threw the tissue into the garbage alongside the cloth you’d been holding under your nose. He continued to stare at you in utter disbelief, as if wiping the blood from his mouth was the craziest part of this night.
“You can’t be serious,” you said, quirking an eyebrow at him.
“You just put paper in my mouth,” he replied, “Warn me next time.”
This was the most emotive you’d seen him all night. You couldn’t conceal your amusement.
“So I can do it again if I warn you?” you asked, wondering if the punches he’d endured had given him a concussion as well.
“Sure? But I almost bit you, like, reflexively. So just let me know before you do something like that.”
Of course he was only so stressed because he was worried that he might’ve hurt you. You rolled your eyes and laughed in spite of yourself. Only when his expression softened did you realize what you’d done.
“You have a beautiful laugh,” he said sincerely, smiling at you with blood still trickling down his face. You rolled your eyes at him.
“I think you have a concussion,” you huffed, crossing your arms and watching him in the mirror as he tended to his injuries.
“Probably,” he laughed, pinching his nose, “I need to stop getting hit in the face. It’s fine every now and then, but this has happened quite a few times this month.”
“You’re gonna get a permanent brain injury or something. Why not just leave Tatooine if so many bounty hunters are tracing you back to here?”
“Jedi stuff,” he replied, grinning as he made eye contact with you through the bathroom mirror.
“Sounds like a load of shit. Nothing is worth risking your life every few days.”
“Rich, coming from a bounty hunter.”
“Except for money,” you clarified, and hearing him giggle as a result felt like a small victory to you for reasons you didn’t really want to think critically about.
“I value knowledge more than money,” he said, “But if you must know, I do have other business on Tatooine.”
“So you’ve said. You never elaborated.”
“My friend is stuck here. I’m working on getting him out,” he told you simply, tossing his bloodied tissue into the trashcan and shrugging.
“Sounds like your friend might be more trouble than he’s worth if you’ve had to put up with a bunch of bloody noses while coming up with a plan.”
“He’s trouble,” he agreed, smiling, “But he’s certainly worth it. He’d do the same for me.”
You weren’t sure if you’d ever had a relationship like that—one where you’d risk your life to save the other person. You weren’t surprised that someone like Luke would have plenty of deeply meaningful friendships, though. You could see how his friends would treasure him, and how he’d do the same. That seemed to be the kind of person he was.
“I’m sure he would,” you replied, somewhat absentmindedly as you admired him.
“Do you hear that?” he asked suddenly, turning to face you with wide eyes.
“No?”
“The storm is over,” he declared, and he practically raced out of your bathroom and into the cockpit to see for himself. He paid no mind to the bodies of the bounty hunters he stepped over, his demeanor greatly contrasting the rather morbid scene.
He was right. The twin suns were beginning to rise, the air now appearing somewhat clear.
“Have you ever seen a sunrise on Tatooine?” he asked then, watching you as you stared out at the pink sky. You shook your head.
“Then we should go see it,” he decided, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the entrance ramp.
“If I’m not turning you in, I need to pick up another commission. I should go—“
“You should get checked out by a medical droid before you fly this thing. You definitely have a concussion.”
“You’re not a doctor,” you argued as he pulled your sheets from the cracks in the door, folding them before placing them on the ground, because of course he would.
“Which is why we should get you to someone who can confirm what I already sense,” he replied somewhat teasingly, “Let me show you the sunrise first. Your head will probably hurt afterwards because of how bright it’ll be, and then I’ll feel vindicated and we’ll find a medical droid. Sound good?”
“I have a job,” you protested, but he was already pulling you outside.
“You can’t do your job with a head injury,” he said, and before you could put up any further complaints, he was dragging you outside.
Following your bounty to go watch the sunrise was not how you had expected this job to go; however, in spite of yourself, you felt the smallest ember of joy begin to burn within you.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
He was right about three things.
The first was that the Tatooine sunrise was truly something to behold. He had climbed onto the roof of the tallest building in Mos Eisley, and you begrudgingly followed him. As the twin suns began to make their debut, however, you were glad that he’d made you do this. You didn’t think that Tatooine had any beauty to offer, but you were quickly proven wrong by the scene unfolding before you.
The second was that you had a concussion. He found a medical droid for you after you had, in fact, complained about the brightness of the suns once they had fully emerged, and you were told that you had a very mild head injury. You’d be fine, but the droid advised against flying for the next few days. Luke seemed all too pleased by this news, and offered to let you stay with him for a bit. He was likely just lonely as a consequence of being on Tatooine by himself for so long, but someone wanting you around was still a foreign and strangely pleasant feeling. In spite of yourself, you relished in it.
The third was that you were not, as he’d said from the very beginning, going to turn him over to the Empire. How could you? Anyone who spent more than a few minutes in his presence would struggle to put him in harm’s way. In fact, he was probably using some sort of mind trick on you. That was the only explanation for the sudden softening of your calloused heart. He must have this effect on everyone, and that’s what made him so dangerous.
Even with your skepticisms, you were injured and trapped on a dangerous planet with no one else to rely on. So, when your stomach rumbled that evening and he reluctantly told you that he only knew of one place for food in Mos Eisley, you finally agreed to follow him back into the cantina.
The prostitute from before scowled at you as soon as you entered, but to your surprise, the bartender just shook his head, as if he had been expecting this result all along.
“Evening, Luke,” he greeted him, sliding a glass of blue milk onto the counter as the Jedi took a seat, “I see you’ve made another friend.”
“Something like that,” he replied, and you knew he was grinning even though his hood covered his face, “Could we maybe do another sandwich, if it isn’t too much trouble?”
“Two?” he asked, and when Luke nodded, he disappeared into the kitchen.
“Think he’ll still serve me beer after I almost shot his customers?” you whispered, and Luke, of course, giggled.
“You need water. You shouldn’t drink with a concussion,” he chided, hand patting your knee like it was the most natural thing in the world. Your stomach flipped at the contact, and you almost fell out of the barstool when he kept his hand there, clutching his blue milk with the other.
The bartender emerged then, carrying two sandwiches. Luke thanked him and ordered you a water, much to your annoyance, and happily ate his sandwich with one hand. When the bartender returned, he brought out another dustcrepe. Luke perked up immediately.
“Thank you. You have no idea how much better these make me feel,” he said sincerely, cutting the dessert in half and sliding the plate over so you could reach it more easily.
“Don’t worry about it, kid,” he replied, “I appreciate your help around here.”
You weren’t sure what he was referring to, but it wasn’t really your place to ask questions, seeing as you’d pulled a gun on two of his patrons yesterday. You also didn’t have a hard time believing that Luke would go out of his way to do something nice for the owner of a Mos Eisley cantina. It was incredibly on brand for him.
At some point, the bartender caught sight of Luke’s hand on your knee, and you were somehow even more embarrassed by this than the fact that you had threatened to kill his customers the day prior. You blushed furiously as the man raised a knowing eyebrow at you.
“He won you over,” he mused, a small grin playing at his lips, “Did he give you the shirt off his back?”
“His cloak,” you murmured, scowling and looking away. The bartender laughed, and Luke looked up from his dustcrepe to smile at you.
Although he had been right about everything else, there was one thing he’d gotten wrong.
“Nothing sweet ever came from Tatooine.”
It’s what he’d said the day prior while sheepishly asking for a dustcrepe. You’d thought the same until yesterday, but now, as he sat in front of you, you knew he was wrong.
After all, Luke himself had come from Tatooine. And what was he if not sweet?
Needless to say, you lingered on the planet long after your headache had subsided.
snowball fight
Luke Skywalker x mechanic!gn!reader
⭐︎⋆˚࿔ Summary: On an admittedly difficult Life Day, Luke discovers that being stationed on Hoth has its perks.
⭐︎⋆˚࿔ Content: hurt/comfort (luke and reader talk about loss). implied acquaintances to lovers. eventual silly fluff. no use of y/n. they really care about each other your honor
⭐︎⋆˚࿔ Word Count: 1.1k
⭐︎⋆˚࿔ A/N: late merry Christmas + happy Hanukkah + happy holidays to those who celebrate! or hope you’re having a good winter season in general! also this fic struck a nerve with me and came out more serious than intended, but if it resonates then I’m wishing you lots of love and strength :) <3
⋆｡°✩ Day Four of the holiday series ☃️
⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆
You’d expect Life Day to be festive, but all Luke felt was lonely.
He tried to be cheerful in the days leading up to it. There technically was a lot to be grateful for – like how he was on a snow planet instead of a desert one this year, or how the Empire hadn’t directly attacked them at all recently.
Yet Luke is overwhelmed by the grief for his aunt and uncle.
The aching pain randomly hits during the small party thrown by the Rebels who celebrate. He’s able to enjoy the festivities, but today just happens to be the day that he feels the most worn out. Not even witnessing Han and Leia’s bickering cheered him up.
After a particularly tiring conversation, he decides to take a break and sit off to the side on some crates. Even though he’s supposed to be a hero of the galaxy, tonight he’s nothing more than a young man feeling lost.
Or so he thought.
“Hey. Mind if I sit?”
Luke could recognize that voice anywhere.
He looks up to the sight of the mechanic who always fixes his X-Wing. You’ve only ever made small talk together, but he never fails to notice you from afar. It’s hard to miss your twinkling laughter when it constantly carries across the hangar bay.
“Not at all,” Luke murmurs, scooting over so you have room. “What brings you here?”
“A break from socializing. There’s been a lot of that tonight,” you say as you sit down. “What about you? You seem a little…” Your face softens. “Out of it.”
“That obvious, huh?” He sighs, but his smile falters. “Well, uh – to be honest, this is my first Life Day away from home.”
He doesn’t know why he’s opening up right away to somebody who he’s never had a full conversation with. Something about your eyes is just so inviting. Besides, he tends to trust most people he meets.
You nod. “So you miss your family?”
“Oh.” Luke’s throat closes up. “I…don’t have any. Not anymore. I lost them recently.”
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“That’s alright. How were you supposed to?” Blinking away his tears, Luke shifts a bit. “But how about you? How’s your celebration been?”
“Honestly, it’s been better.” You bite your lip. “I, um…I actually lost someone recently, too. My best friend. She was a fighter pilot.”
Luke watches your eyes shimmer, likely at a memory that may not be so distant.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I know it’s tough. Especially right now, when everything’s supposed to be so…”
“Festive?”
“Yeah.” He smiles. “Exactly.”
You reach out to grab his hand, an unspoken understanding passing between you. There’s something beautiful about the exchange – like your shared sadness keeps you from being complete strangers. Savoring the feeling of your cool skin against his, he realizes you were brought together for a reason.
The same thing must cross your mind, because you perk up. “Say, are you from a planet that has a lot of snow?”
“No,” he huffs. “Quite the opposite, actually.”
You chuckle lightly. “So what I’m hearing is you’ve never been in a snowball fight?”
Luke pauses, genuinely confused. “Huh?”
“Oh my gosh. You don’t even know what that is, do you?” Jaw dropping, you jump up. “Come on. First time for everything.”
Laughing, he lets you grab his hand and drag him all the way down the hallway. You stop briefly to put on the heavy winter coat required to survive the cold winds of Hoth before heading outside. Thankfully, the snow isn’t violent tonight. It only floats down in little sparkling flakes.
The murky horizon is covered in deep powder as far as the eye can see. While Luke’s sorrow hasn’t subsided, gazing out at such an unfamiliar sight – with a new companion, nonetheless – makes it more manageable for the time being.
“Alright, here’s what you’re going to do,” you assert, leaning down to pack a fistful of snow into your glove-clad hands. “Grab some and shape it into a ball. Then we’ll just start throwing it at each other.”
Luke follows your example, letting out a small chuckle. “‘Snowball fight.’ Pretty straightforward, now that I’m thinking about–”
A puff of snow explodes right in the center of his chest.
He stares at you, mouth agape.
“Sorry.” You giggle sheepishly. “I guess I should’ve–”
Another snowball hits you square on the shoulder. Luke grins.
You cross your arms. “Oh, it is on, Skywalker.”
In a matter of seconds, the two of you are hurling snowballs at each other relentlessly. Yours tend to be more compact, but Luke finds he has really good aim, especially for a first try.
What holds him back the most are the gloves. He’s not used to the way they slide around on his skin, slowing him down in his snowball-making. That means turning himself into an easier target for you.
But he doesn’t mind at all. Even if each pelt of snow briefly sends a wave of shock through his body, Luke decides it’s worth it if he gets to hear your laugh over and over.
One of the times you hit him, you accidentally catch Luke right as he’s starting to bend down. The ball splatters right on the top of his head, covering the fur of his jacket and the tips of his eyelashes with snowflakes.
“Ah, I’m so sorry!” you cry. “Are you okay?”
Luke brushes it off, laughing quietly in disbelief. “I’m fine.”
A mischievous spark igniting in his eye, he gathers up more snow. “But I’ll be better when I get you back.”
Screaming, you run away as he chases you with a ball bigger than the ones he’s made before. Granted, it still isn’t huge, and Luke misses you anyway. It’s the adrenaline that counts.
You’re out there for so long that the tips of your noses start to feel freezing. But you’ve laughed so much tonight that you’re out of breath. Of course neither of you wants to stop.
When the cold finally does become too much, you walk close to each other for warmth. Such proximity to another person fills Luke with hope.
The low hum of his sadness still remains. However, maybe all of these things really can coexist with his grief.
“Thanks for bringing me out here,” he says as you head back inside. “And for being with me. I really needed it.”
You smile, wide and bright. “Me too.”
A seed has been planted in his mind tonight. He’s not quite sure what, but something tells him he’s not going to be able to shake it that easily.
Not that he’d want to. At the very least, Luke witnessed the beginning of a trustworthy friendship.
Whatever happens after that would just be a welcomed addition.
⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆
✮ taglist! @iristheplanet16
LUKE SKYWALKER HEADCANONS!!
Fluffy couple headcanons 😋😋😋
Have fun! 🌷🌷🌷
- He's clingy AF!!!
Whenever he has the opportunity, he will cuddle you, wrap his arms around you, hold your hand or simply just put his hand on any part of your body just to feel that you're there. When he became a Jedi it was a little inappropriate to show your relationship in public (starting with the fact that it was not appropriate to be in a relationship at all, but anyway... Rules are made to be broken✨✨), but sometimes he still grabs your hand or... PLACES HIS HAND ON YOUR LOWER BACK!!!
- HE'S STARING AT YOU ALL THE TIME!!!
His eyes don't leave you... He looks at you with his big blue eyes as if you were a work of art. ( You are ofc🌷)
- Before you were even in a relationship, he did everything he could to make you notice him and see him as the perfect partner.
You said you needed someone to finally appreciate you? He's the first to respond, "I DO." You said you wanted a drink? He"s the first to just, "I'll bring you water! Or maybe you prefer juice??"
In fact, after you officially started a relationship, he still does it.
- He's the first one to say, "sorry" after you argued.
He can't stand that you are even a little bit mad at him.
- He remembers every little detail about you.
Your favorite color, your favorite flower, EVERY DETAIL OF THE STORIES YOU TOLD HIM YEAAAARS AGO.
Even though he's a sweet funny guy, he's also VERY PROTECTIVE. OF COURSE HE IS. YOU ARE HIS PRIORITY. He is a sunshine cute boyfriend but it doesn't mean he's a pathetic weak. These are two different things. Remember that.
- He showers you with small kisses all over your face!!!
He does this every time you're alone for even a moment.
- He loooooves when you play with his hair.
- He always makes sure he's the most perfect gentleman in the whooole galaxy!!
He opens the door for you, pulls out a chair for you, takes off your coat, etc.
- He's very funny. You joke and laugh a lot together.
Two Teenagers on Tatooine
Pairing: Luke Skywalker x fem!reader Summary: You spill your heart out to Luke while drunk.
“Those blue eyes or pretty hair. Tell me how many times I've dreamed of running my fingers through his hair, huh? I sure can't. Gotta be more than a hundred. He's gonna do great things, I tell ya. Great things. He's gonna leave me in the dust. And I'd be happy to eat his dust. Do ya think he'd remember me when he’s off and done great things?”
“You’re not supposed to be here this late, ya know,” Luke said to himself underneath his mask while welding. You sent him an incredulous look over your shoulder from the workbench.
You stopped fixing the repulsorlift to spin around and get a better look at him. Luke also quit working to take off his mask. His lips were turned upward in a teasing smile and a glint of mischief glimmered in his eyes. You shrugged and matched his humor.
“Well, since you picked me up in your landspeeder and we took it apart for repairs and still haven’t finished it, yet I can’t really go back home, can I? Unless you’re suggesting that I walk back with bandits and raiders lurking after dark?”
“No, no, you’re right! What kinda a friend would I be to let you do that?” Luke shook his head, blond hair waving slightly, and set down his tool.
“My thoughts exactly, Skywalker. ‘Sides I probably wouldn’t make it ten steps before I collapsed from exhaustion. Whattya say we stop here for the night and finish in the morning.” Taking off your gloves, you wiped your brow. “The repulsorlift needs to recalibrate anyway. And in the meantime, we can have some fun.”
Luke’s lips pulled downward in a pretend pout. “You mean you haven’t already been having fun?”
“What I mean is that we can have even more fun.” You glanced up the stairway to make sure no one else was around. No need to have pesky adults ruin a good time. You jumped off your seat and crouched down to rustle through your knapsack. You pulled out a glass jug of electric blue liquid and revealed it to the curious farmboy.
He gasped, “Spotchka! How’d ya get it?”
You smiled at his surprise and replied, “I saved up for months and when I showed the coin to Tam he couldn’t refuse to do business with me.” You tugged the cork off and drank a mouthful. Immediately, a searing but pleasant pain ran down your throat.
“Wooh! That’s gotta kick to it!” You handed the jug to Luke’s outstretched hand. He quaffed a sizable amount and had a similar reaction.
An undetermined amount of time went by as the Spotchka was passed back and forth. It didn’t take long for you to feel the alcohol’s effects. Your head was light and airy; all troublesome thoughts disappeared to be replaced by happier musings, and a heavy, comforting weight pressed down on your chest, causing you to lay down on the couch.
Luke was swaying slightly where he sat on the floor. The bottle was nearly empty now. He tilted the jug upside down and licked the last few drops. Shaking it a few times to make absolutely sure it was really all gone, Luke tossed it aside.
He didn’t think he had ever consumed this much alcohol in this short of a period of time. His uncle had given him a sip of moonshine at the dinner table under careful supervision, but Luke had never felt this… good before. Was that normal?
Shaking his head to clear the thoughts swimming around in there, he found himself becoming dizzy. Instead of stretching down the ground like he intended to do, his back hit the floor with more force than he expected.
Luke recalled a distant memory from when he was shopping with Aunt Beru. Across the market, he had seen a man stumbling about and mumbling incoherently with a bottle in his hand.
Even at that young age, Luke was grossed out by the drool dribbling down the man’s chin. He tugged on his aunt's skirt and pointed at the odd man to ask her why he was acting so funny.
She explained the man had been indulging in too many ‘spirits’. Later, he was set down for a talk with his aunt and uncle about the dangers of over drinking. With his vision blurring, Luke thought maybe he should’ve paid more attention to them.
Luke could hear some sort of buzzing sound coming from his left. He turned his head to see the source and rubbed his eyes. You were talking, mouth moving animatedly and waving your arms around. Luke struggled to focus on your words but soon discovered it was well worth the effort.
“You know Luke, you're the bright spot in my life. Brighter than even the suns. It's true. You're one of my reasons for getting up in the mornings. The fact that I get to see your face every day—that smile—I wouldn't trade that for anything. Not even the chance to get off this barren kriffin’ wasteland. That's how much you mean. I love ya.
“Not only like a friend either. And I wish you—I wish you thought the same. He consumes my every waking moment. I love him. More than I can bear sometimes. My heart when he's with me feels like it's gonna beat right outta my chest when I'm near him. But it breaks too cause he only thinks about leaving this stupid planet which I can't blame him.
Luke was perplexed from the switch from second person to third person, but then guessed that, in your inebriated state, you had forgotten who you were speaking to. This oughta be good.
“I'd leave if I could take him with me. If he'd have me. He's– He's not perfect by any means. He's stubborn, cocky, whiny, the dumbest crap comes outta his mouth sometimes. But he's kind. He listens to me. He helps me. I think it was love at first sight when he helped me with my broken speeder in the dune sea. He's got that special thing—that aura—around him that just pulls you in.
“I need to get closer to him. If I were any braver, I'd march up to him and kiss him flat on that stupid mouth of his. Then he'd absolutely know what I think about him. He'd know. Then I'd pray he loved me too. He won't though. I'm just his friend. It's a curse and a gift. I get to be with him, but not in that way. I can barely stand to be around him, yet I can barely stand not to be around him.
“It's torture and he's going about his business none the wiser. Not giving a second thought about li’l ol’ me. I'd tell him straight to his face if I had any courage, but I’d– well I'd do something if he hated me for telling him. Not sure what though. Probably throw myself to a Krayt dragon. End my suffering once and for all.
“Feels like a weight on my chest carrying all these thoughts and feelings and everything for him, and him not caring two bits. Oh, Luke, if you knew how much you affected me... I don't know what you'd do, but... I don't know... What'd you think, sir? Should I tell that handsome boy how much I'd love for him to kiss me? How I want him.
“How I crave to be in his orbit yet hate it too somehow. I don't know. What do I know? Nuffin' except I... Luke is my bright spot. My golden ray of sunshine. My one and only. My... nothing. I got no right to call him mine. He's no object. He is a beautiful human being. No, he’s got to be more than that. No... he is human. He can't be. No mortal has his looks or charm.
“Those blue eyes or pretty hair. Tell me how many times I've dreamed of running my fingers through his hair, huh? I sure can't. Gotta be more than a hundred. He's gonna do great things, I tell ya. Great things. He's gonna leave me in the dust. And I'd be happy to eat his dust. Do ya think he'd remember me when he’s off and done great things?
“That childhood friend from Tatooine from a lifetime ago. I'd never forget him. Never. Not even amnesia could rip his memory from my mind. C'mon I've been doing all the yapping, chatting, the tongue flagging—huh—wagging I mean. What do you say I should do? You seem to be the wise, sage person here.
“What should I do, huh? Should I write him a letter? Or should I do something more drastic to get it through that thick skull of his that I want his body on mine. That I want to know every single detail about him. Oh, Luke if only... if only.”
Your head sagged to the side and your eyes widened to see the boy not more than a few steps away from you with his mouth hanging open. Huh. So that’s who you were talking to.
Nevertheless, you needed to finish the last of your speech. “Do you know that it's because of you, Luke, that I think there's a higher power in the universe. There's no possible way you are the product of evolutionary chance. You're too perfect. You're too… sculpted.
“Does that make sense? There must be a deity or deities out there somewhere who created you with perfection in mind. Your face must have been crafted with the utmost care and love to turn out so.”
“So what?”
“So perfect! I'm probably not helping your ego, am I? You're already full of yourself.”
“I'd rather be full of you.”
“Full of me?” Your mind immediately jumped to somewhere naughty. “That could be easily m-mis-” You grappled with finding the right word. “Misconstrued, Mr. Skywalker. You ought to be more careful with your phrasing, huh?”
“I meant what I said… I said what I meant. I mean… uh… It’s the truth and you should hear it.” Luke stumbled from one end of the room to the other to reach you where you were lying on the couch and clumsily claimed your lips with his. It was awkward and not at all what Luke envisioned his first kiss with you would be but that didn’t stop him.
He felt one of your hands trail down his body while the other grasped the back of his head, pulling his hair. As much as he was enjoying it, Luke broke off the kiss to get a good look at you.
Your lips were still parted and your breath smelled like the slightly sweet spotchka. Your eyes never left him. His fingers touched your cheek, drawing swirling patterns across the skin. “Do you really mean it? Do you really love me? Do I really mean all that to you?”
You remained silent for several seconds and Luke was sure his heart would shatter into a thousand pieces if you said no. He would throw himself to the sand people if you took it back or worse if it was all a hallucination conjured up by the alcohol.
With his body dead, his spirit would wander the vast dune sea, haunting the place you had lived. Parents would tell his story to their children of the dangers of over consuming alcohol. There was still a buzzing in his head but that didn’t block your words reaching his ears. “I meant every word, Luke. Every word.”
He let out a huge sigh and kissed you again more forcefully this time. He said, “I love you too. I didn’t know you also loved me.”
“What can I say, Skywalker, I’m good at keeping that part under wraps. At least I was.”
Luke's legs dangled over the edge of the couch and he squirmed against your body. There wasn’t enough space. “Wanna go up to my room? Sure would beat this couch.”
“I think that's a lovely idea. Almost as lovely as you are.”
Grinning like an idiot at your compliment, Luke rolled off the couch and crashed to the floor. You laughed at his smooth moves and he mumbled for you to hush up but that didn’t deter you from expressing your amusement.
He helped you up and arm-in-arm you both stumbled up the stairs to the outdoor courtyard. You placed a hand on Luke’s chest to stop him from walking. “Look.” You jerked your chin up to the clear night sky. Millions of pinpoints of lights brighten the black abyss above.
Two shooting stars passed into view before disappearing into the horizon. You leaned on him and stared up, wondering if maybe it was a sign. A tiny bit of sense was leaking into your brain. You remembered you and Luke were just two teenagers on Tatooine.
The galaxy was a much bigger place than this little hole in the desert but it didn’t feel like that. You knew little of love but you wouldn’t take back your confession because it didn’t matter.
“Luke, we’re both drunk out of kriffin’ minds… Are either of us gonna remember this in the morning? Will it matter?” You already came to your conclusion but wanted his perspective.
“I’ll remember. I’ll never forget your words as long as I live. And in the morning, I’ll tell you how much I love you again. And the day after that and the day after that. Til we’re in our graves.”
“That’s an awfully big commitment.”
“You’re worth it.”
A cool breeze swept through the courtyard causing you to huddle closer to Luke. You listened to his heartbeat steadily. It’s a calming sound, soothing future worries. Everything else besides him seemed to drift away into a haze. You could be plain crazy or hopeful (maybe both) but you believed him.
