“I’m yours—I’m yours—I’ve always been?—”
I snap my hips, cock driving into her, and she cries out, coming again, body clenching down on me.
“Stars—you feel so fucking good?—”
I’m close. So close. Her body milks me with every thrust, her breath hot against my cheek.
She kisses me again, desperate. “Come inside me. I want all of it.”
That’s all it takes.
With a guttural growl, I bury myself deep, cock pulsing as I spill inside her. Heat floods her, her legs trembling. We hold each other through it—through the aftershocks, the breathless silence that follows.
When I finally pull back, we’re both wrecked.
She slides down to her feet, legs unsteady. I catch her.
“I can’t feel my thighs,” she mutters, breathless.
I grin. “That’s the goal.”
She buttons my shirt for me with shaking hands, kisses my jaw.
“Let’s get out of here,” she whispers. “Before someone mistakes us for the movie sequel.”
I chuckle, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“No one gets this story,” I say. “Not like we do.”
“Then let’s go write the rest.”
The dayof the ceremony dawns cool and quiet. The studio lot is quieter than normal—props rumble less, the drones loiter like spectators instead of machines. I feel the change in the air like a shift in gravity. The smell of polished plating and fresh boots hits me when I walk into the hanger where they’ve stored the formal Reaper armor. The chrome gleams under the lights. The seams sparkle. Each scratch filled and sealed. I run my hand along the breastplate. It is more ceremony than battle-gear but to me it carries the sacred weight of both.
Liora’s already waiting. She stands in the foyer of the studio chapel—yes, they have one of those fabricated sets re-purposed for today. The scent of incense machines—not genuine smoke, but near enough to trick most human noses—hangs in the air. She’s wearing black: sleek, tailored, her braid pinned with a single blood-red flower. Perfect. Sharp. Beautiful in a way that injures me. My breath hiccups.
Pepper appears next, radiant. She walks between us, holding the rings on a small velvet cushion. Her small sneakers squeak faintly. She clears her throat as if she’s carrying the weight of the entire universe. I crouch and press a kiss to her temple.
“You’re a warrior princess today,” I whisper.
She giggles. “And you’re my Reaper general.”
I rise. Liora reaches for my hand. When my glove touches her skin I feel the warmth of her palm through the lining. The scent of jasmine from her hair drifts into me. My stomach flips.
Miles Maximus steps up as officiant, though he’s in full suit rather than costume. The drone swarm above hums. I sense their lenses, calculating, streaming. The guests—studio crew, friends, small handful of Solari contacts—are seated in folding chairs. Pepper leads, then Liora, then me. I walk slowly—armor quiet, boots heavy—until I stand facing them both.
Liora’s eyes gleam. I feel something jagged loosen inside me.
Miles clears his throat. “We gather here under the auspices of galaxy-wide unity… and for one spectacular couple.” He smiles at us, then grins at me. I feel a spark of irritation—this is sacred, not spectacle. But I swallow it.
Liora’s vows come first. She inhales deeply, the black fabric rustles. “Gyon,” she begins, voice crisp. “You don’t know how to make tea properly, you trip over your words, you scare the directors who don’t understand Reaper calm—but you laugh with my daughter. You carry her as if she weighs nothing. You fight when she falls because you cannot stand to see someone hurt her. You protect her like you did me. And I—well, I am yours. My skills, my heart, my life.” She smiles and the audience chuckles lightly. “Full disclosure: I still remember the time you insisted on ‘roaring’ at the training dummy and it punched back. Our stunt-coordinator still has nightmares.” Laughter rises. She flashes a playful glare at me.
I admit I blink. I was not aware of that incident. But the laughter cracks something warm in my chest.
She becomes steady. “Thank you for being a father when you didn’t know you could be one. Thank you for being my partner even when I tried to hide, to protect, to run. I love you. Today. Tomorrow. Across the stars if need be.”
I feel the hum of the drone-swarm shift. The chapel’s lights soften. My breath hangs.
Then my vows.
