cedar @dazaih - Tumblr Blog

Nov 14, 2025

wingman - luke skywalker x reader

you can read all previous chapters here

chapter fifteen -> staying up

your university roommate han solo finds a rival (and love interest) in student council president leia skywalker, but both of them are too stubborn to admit that they have feelings for each other. luckily, you and her twin brother, luke, devise a plan to get the two of them to spend more time together. challenges arise, however, when you start to develop a crush on him.

chapter warnings: luke freakwalker, drinking, smoking, making out, switch! luke, switch! reader, handjobs, fingering (reader receiving), afab anatomy but gender neutral reader, dacryphilia, use of “good boy,” slightly protective reader, soft dom! luke, discussions of sex and consent

a/n: this one is just pure fluff and smut sorry for not advancing the plot a whole bunch here but i promise the next chapter will have a lot going on!!

Luke managed to stay engaged in the car discussion for the next thirty minutes. After that, you felt him gradually begin to slump in his seat where he held you, his arms still wrapped around you but much less tightly than before. His head lolled to the side a little where it rested on your shoulder, wispy blond hair tickling your neck.

He was dozing off. You had forgotten that he’d played a D1 soccer game earlier in the night. He was probably exhausted. You pressed a soft kiss into his hair and cooed at him.

“Hey,” you said quietly, shifting a little in his lap so you could face him. He lifted his head and blinked, confused as to why you’d turned sideways and deprived him of your shoulder.

“Hi,” he replied, blinking tiredly,

“It’s getting late,” you told him, trying not to melt at the way he was looking at you through drowsy eyes, “You’ve had a long day. Wanna go home?”

“No,” he said quickly, rubbing his eyes, “Han and Chewie came out, and I don’t wanna make everyone leave because of me.”

“You tired, kid?” Han asked from across the table, uncharacteristic concern written in his brow.

“No,” Luke said quickly, trying to widen his eyes as best as he could, as if it would make him seem any more awake, “I’m fine. I promise.”

“Damn,” Han replied, feigning indifference, “Well, I was about to suggest that we go back to your place and smoke on your balcony, but since you wanna stay here—“

“Han,” you huffed, rolling your eyes, “Don’t tease him.”

“Spoiled,” Leia murmured under her breath. Luke didn’t bother glaring at her. He was too busy staring up at you with adoration in his eyes as you remained perched on his lap.

“Isn’t it gross?” Han scoffed, passing the last of the joint to the small gaggle of strangers, “Well, always nice to meet someone else who can appreciate my girl. You can finish that.”

“His girl?” Luke asked you tiredly, his confusion evident.

“His van,” you replied, rolling your eyes a second time. Luke just nodded, too polite to voice his judgement.

Han and Chewie both stood then, dusting some stray ash from their pants in unison, as if they’d been trained for such a task. Leia followed suit, and you clamored off of Luke’s lap to offer him a hand. He blushed a little, smoothing down his jeans. You had to conceal your amusement when he readjusted the front, undoubtedly trying to hide his bulge.

“Excited?” you teased quietly, taking his hand in your own.

“You have no idea,” he mumbled, pulling his sweatshirt down as far as it would go.

You giggled as you followed the other three back inside, you and Luke holding hands as you navigated the crowd of tipsy college students. When you walked by the pool table, you saw that his friends were still at it, new players cycling in and out as the old ones fled to some dark corner of the bar to pick up where they left off. Elias was still there, instigating as always, having pulled out a new handle of tequila at some point. You wondered if he ever tired, or if he could go on pushing people’s buttons all night long.

Luke tensed a bit as you passed them, but luckily, you seemed to go by undetected. They were far too engrossed in their own raunchy behaviors to see your group slip away. When you stepped outside and onto the sidewalk, you were grateful for your warmer clothes. You saw a chill pass through Luke as he came into contact with the cool night air, and you pressed yourself closer to him, untangling your hands to rub circles into his back. He giggled and leaned into you more.

“Are you cold?” you asked him, slightly endeared by this for reasons you didn’t really understand.

“Freezing,” he admitted, “But it’s alright. I’m sure I’ll warm up once we walk a little more. I appreciate the body heat, though.”

You smiled, keeping him as close as possible as you trailed behind the others.

Getting to his apartment didn’t take very long, as he and Leia lived far closer to everything than you did. Luke nearly fell asleep leaning on you in the elevator, and Leia rolled her eyes at him fondly. His exhaustion was understandable, and you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead to alert him when the elevator doors opened up to his floor.

“Fuck,” he murmured when he got inside, kicking his shoes off, “I just wanna go to bed. ‘M sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” you asked, tucking a strand of blond hair behind his ear.

“Not good behavior from a host,” he said sheepishly, frowning.

“You played a D1 soccer game earlier, and then immediately went out. I wasn’t expecting you to pull an all nighter.”

Before he could protest, Leia grabbed his shoulders and pushed him towards the bathroom.

“You have to shower before you go to bed,” she scolded, shooing him through the hallway and past his room, shutting the door so he didn’t swerve and crawl into bed immediately.

“What—“ he tried to argue, but she was quick, thrusting a clean towel into his hands.

“I don’t know what you were up to tonight, but you were gone for a long time. Take a shower.”

He had half the mind to be embarrassed, though it was brief. He turned and fixed you with an exaggerated pout, feigning distress.

“But I’ve been drinking,” he said, stubbornly fighting his exhaustion to manage an insincere and teasing tone, “What if I fall or something? Someone should probably shower with me. Y’know, for my own safety—“

“Don’t be fucking nasty,” his sister hissed, slapping him hard on the back while you stood blushing, feeling scandalized.

Even as exhausted as he was, he was still interested in flirting with you in front of everyone else.

“Serious offer,” he called back over his shoulder, “I’m leaving the door unlocked.”

Your cheeks were blazing at this point, Han looking down the hallway in disgust. You had no idea how Luke could be so unabashed about such things in front of his sister—probably because he knew and enjoyed that it got on her nerves, actually—but you could never do anything like that with Han here. He’d never let you live it down. He’d ensure that you were embarrassed about it for an unreasonably long time.

You sighed when the door slammed shut, relaxing a little. Han stared at you, brow raised.

“Well?” he prompted, arms crossed.

“I’m not going to,” you scoffed, Chewie chuckling quietly as he made his way to the balcony.

“I’ve gotta shower too,” Leia said, running a hand through her hair tiredly, “I’m sweaty and gross. You guys are free to start that joint, though.”

Right. The Skywalker twins would have more than one bathroom in their college apartment, even with just the two of them.

“Will do,” Han replied, eagerly taking the joint from her, “Thanks.”

You stepped out onto the balcony of their high rise apartment with your three roommates, Han shooting you an inquisitive glance as he lit the end of the joint.

“You smokin’ tonight?” he asked, grinning at you.

“Sure. It’s a special occasion,” you replied, taking it from his hand before he could take a hit and starting it yourself.

“And you’re already breaking rotation. How disrespectful.”

“It’s not breaking rotation if you haven’t taken a hit.”

Chewie nodded, and you passed the joint to the left. Han watched you with a fondness that was only visible on him when he was inebriated. You’d never tell him that he was easy to read when he was like this.

The three of you passed the joint amongst yourselves as a comfortable silence befell you. You had to relight it far more often than usual, thanks to the chilly breeze that traveled through the city at such a height. You gazed out at the downtown lights as Han cupped his hand in front of the joint, shielding it from the wind while he reignited its flame with his Zippo.

“It’s comforting, isn’t it?” you spoke into the darkness, echoing Luke’s words from many nights ago when you’d found him standing out here.

Han snorted. That’s about what you’d expected.

“If you like people, sure,” he murmured, inhaling smoke, “It’s crowded down there. Busy.”

“If you’re lonely,” you corrected. The silence that followed was different this time, hanging heavy in the air. You knew Han had caught your meaning when he pursed his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he said, hearing those words from him so alien that it felt awkward, “I know I haven’t been around—“

“Neither of you have.”

It was quiet again. Han looked at Chewie, brow raised. Chewie sighed and leaned against the railing, avoiding your gaze. He’d put his hair into a lopsided bun when he’d come out onto the balcony, a temporary shield against the breeze.

“I know it’s hard,” you continued, feeling emboldened by the substances in your system, but also comforted by the strangers keeping the city alive below, “But hell, Han, I’d rather you just wake me up when you get home and offer me a Miller Lite or something. I don’t care what time it is. And you don’t have to tell me what goes on while you’re doing whatever it is you do with the Hutts, but you’ve shut me out completely. Just talk to me about something. I need to know that you’re okay. I miss you.”

“I am okay,” he argued quickly, fidgeting with the lid of his lighter, “And I’m right here.”

“Then be present. Say something real to me.”

He paused for a moment. You watched him with apprehension pooling in your gut, arms folded over your torso now to trap more of your body heat—and perhaps to provide some much needed comfort to yourself in this moment of confrontation.

Finally, he flicked the lighter closed and took a hit from the joint before passing it to you. A peace offering, maybe to remind you that the three of you were out here sharing dopamine twisted up into a small paper cone. But that wasn’t enough. You needed to share more than just drugs.

You were so resigned to your building disappointment that when he did speak, you jumped a little.

“I’m not telling you any details. That’s for your safety and mine,” he said sternly, looking out at the night sky now, “But fine. There was something…not terrible that happened. At work.”

You stared at him, stifling your amusement—which seemed so out of place right now—at the way the light from inside reflected on his earring, shining softly. You waited for him to continue. He shifted nervously.

“Jabba has been trying to swindle a guy out of a few old muscle cars for a while now. He finally caved, and there are about three pretty nice ones sitting on his property now. Caught me lookin’ at them one night. I thought he was gonna kill me or something, but he just started complaining about how expensive it was to hire someone capable of doing an engine swap. Told him I did that for my van, and he said that if I was able to pull it off for one of those cars he’d knock my debt down a few grand.”

“Oh,” you replied, surprised by that offer, “Well, that’s good, right?”

“Except he would’ve fastened me with cinderblock shoes if I fucked it up,” he murmured, rolling his eyes, clearly just as resentful of his employer as he had been before.

“But you didn’t,” you said slowly, trying to gauge his feelings.

“Of course I didn’t,” he snorted, “Or I haven’t yet. I’m still working on it. But when I’m done, it’ll be worth the stress to get some of that debt off my back. I hope.”

“Gambling with your life?”

You turned to see Leia standing in the doorway, arms crossed and leaning against the frame. Han scoffed.

“Hardly. I know what I’m doing when it comes to cars, so don’t you worry, princess.”

“I dunno,” she said, a bit teasingly, “My dad is really into old muscle cars too. Engine swaps are complicated.”

“Well, it ain’t too complicated for me,” he snapped, and she fondly rolled her eyes at him.

“Uh huh,” she replied skeptically, stepping forward and intercepting the joint before you could pass it off to Chewie, “Don’t smoke it all without me.”

“‘Course not, your highness.”

The four of you stood, the joint in rotation amongst the small circle, and it didn’t take long for Leia to drift to Han’s side. That also meant that it didn’t take long for their bickering to start, though it was lighthearted and harmless. The joint was down to its last leg, the smoke feeling increasingly harsher as it scratched against your throat. As Han and Leia continued to be distracted by each other, Chewie had quietly begun passing it between only the two of you. You snickered, supporting his plan to hoard the remaining pot.

After a few more hits of this, he placed a hand on the top of your head and ruffled your hair fondly, much like Han sometimes did. You turned to look at him, and when you met his eyes, you saw that he was fixing you with a soft stare. Sincere. An apology.

“It’s fine,” you assured him, passing him what was left of the joint, now mostly just a roach, “I know it’s hard. I get not wanting to think about it. I just miss you guys. Here, smoke the rest of this. My lungs can’t take it anymore.”

He stared at the roach in your hand for a minute before nodding, taking and quickly exhausting the last of it. You were sure his own lungs had to be at least somewhat calloused by now, hardened by the sheer amount of pot he consumed. He smoked more than anyone you knew. Not even Han came close.

Finally, he seemed sufficiently high. He blinked slowly and rubbed his eyes before gesturing to his watch. You looked. It was late.

“You’re right,” you mumbled, turning and looking to see Han and Leia still conversing, “Well, I’ll go say bye to Luke while they finish talking.”

He raised his eyebrows at you. You blushed.

“Whatever. I’ll be right back.”

You heard him chuckle quietly behind you as you stepped through the balcony door, reentering the warm apartment. You scanned the kitchen for Luke but didn’t find him, so you then turned to walk down the hallway. Before you could get very far, he emerged from the office room you’d slept in all that time ago. He looked considerably more awake after his shower, eyes a little more open than before. Maybe he got his second wind.

“Hey,” he greeted you happily, immediately pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Oh, man. You’re cold. Did you go out there without a jacket?”

Before you could respond, he was pulling you into his room and handing you a pair of fleece pajama pants. They were blue with small geese on them. You stared at him for a moment before giggling, and he just shook his head at you, unbothered.

“Nothing wrong with geese. They’re cute,” he said, handing one of his clean, worn-in sweatshirts to you, “This one is soft.”

“Thanks, but I was actually coming to say that we’re about to head out. Chewie’s really tired, and—“

“Why?” he replied calmly, cocking his head at you a little, “It’s late. I thought you’d stay.”

“Well, Chewie’s here too.”

“I just set up the office room for him. Made the bed and stuff. He’s also welcome to borrow some of my clothes if he wants to.”

You thought this over for a moment. You did really want to stay over. The thought of changing into Luke’s clothes and snuggling up in bed with him seemed perfect.

“I guess I can ask him if he’s okay with it. And that’s assuming Han won’t mind either.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Han would hate to spend the night with Leia,” he snorted, rolling his eyes.

You giggled and lightly punched his arm before turning to walk back outside. To your surprise, he followed you, and when you returned Chewie raised his eyebrow at you once more, gaze shifting between you and Luke.

“The guest bed is ready for you, Chewie,” Luke said sweetly before you could get a word out. You shook your head at him.

A quiet chuckle came from your roommate. He simply clasped you on the shoulder affectionately, barely able to keep his eyes open, and then he turned and walked back inside. You could only assume he was going to sleep then.

“Where’s he goin’?” Han asked, finally breaking out of his Leia-induced trance.

“To bed,” you replied, “Luke set up the guest room for him.”

Han looked flabbergasted. He blinked slowly at you, brows furrowed.

“I never said anything about staying over,” he began, but Leia cut him off quite quickly.

“Do you realize what time it is?” she asked, “It makes way more sense for you to stay here.”

“Thanks for your input,” he muttered, taking a drag from a freshly lit joint you hadn’t even realized he was holding, “Whatever. Guess I don’t have much of a choice.”

You shrugged and saw Luke smile brightly from the corner of your eye, standing behind you to place his head on your shoulder and wrap his arms around you. He placed a gentle kiss to your cheek and Han rolled his eyes.

“You want a hit of this or not?” he asked Luke, possibly just to get the other man to stop being so touchy with you for a second. Luke eyed him skeptically before taking the joint, tilting his head away from you in order to not blow smoke in your face.

Luke didn’t seem to touch anything that could impact his lungs that often. He typically gravitated towards alcohol, but he would have a joint or a drunk cigarette on occasion. Something about smoking looked so unnatural on him, in a way that intrigued you and made you wonder how much you really knew him at all. You watched him exhale, eyes catching on his defined jawline as he did so. He was beautiful no matter what he was doing.

You all passed around the joint for a few more minutes. The other three were in a conversation that you weren’t paying much attention to, as your focus was entirely on how pretty Luke looked while smoking. With tired, heavily lidded eyes and the muscles in his shoulders relaxing, he was truly a sight to behold.

You were startled when he looked up and met your gaze. He appeared to be equally as caught off guard, and you could see the pink rising in his cheeks as he pursed his lips together tightly. He passed the joint to you silently, sheepishly avoiding your eyes as he did so. While he seemed confident sometimes, he could be so bashful at others—perhaps when everything was beginning to feel all too authentic.

You decided that this would be your final rotation. You were pretty high now, and you didn’t want to green out at the Skywalker residence.

“Think I’m done for the night,” you announced, accentuating your exhaustion with a yawn.

“Me too,” Luke added quickly, inching closer to you once more, “Pretty tired.”

“Ain’t that convenient,” Han snorted. Luke scowled at him.

“I played a big game today.”

Leia chuckled and shook her head at her brother. It was quite obvious that Luke just wanted to do whatever you did.

“Goodnight, you two,” she said, taking the joint from Han, “We’re gonna kill this first.”

“Have fun,” Luke teased, but Leia just rolled her eyes.

You gave Han a quick hug, the twins briefly giving you some space as they bid each other goodnight.

“Thanks for coming out tonight,” you told him quietly, and he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “And for letting me in a little. It means a lot.”

He didn’t say anything at first. He simply nodded, looking down at his boots, and swallowed.

“It’s not a big deal,” he murmured, picking at a piece of dead skin on his cracked knuckles in a way that looked painful, “But yeah. And I’ll try to uh, be more present moving forward.”

You nodded and gave him another hug. He embraced you this time, rubbing your upper back affectionately before releasing you. You felt eyes on you, and you turned to see the twins staring at the familial scene before them with adoration etched across their faces. Han scowled.

“Mind your business,” he snapped, and Luke giggled.

“Oh, I intend to,” he replied, grabbing your hand when you stepped away from your roommate, “My focus will be redirected elsewhere. Don’t worry.”

As he pulled you towards the balcony door, Leia gagged.

“Don’t be fucking nasty, Luke.”

“What? You guys are gonna be out here killing the rest of that joint. You mind your business.”

You blushed hard, the consequence of your high being that you were hyper aware of everyone’s attention on you. The consequence of Luke’s seemed to be that he was unabashedly horny, though you weren’t sure how different that was from his regular gimmick. You followed him the rest of the way inside then, and he switched to walking behind you with a hand on your lower back. When you finally reentered his bedroom, he gave your ass a shameless squeeze. You yelped a little and he giggled, silencing you by planting a soft kiss to your lips.

“You gonna change clothes?” he asked you, voice a bit scratchy from smoking, eyes rimmed red.

“You’re asking me to change in front of you,” you replied, tone flat and brows raised. He only shrugged.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he teased, smirk playing on his lips. You rolled your eyes.

“Fine. Got a pair of boxers I can borrow? My underwear’s still a little damp,” you said lowly, not bothering to feign innocence as you spoke.

He swallowed hard and his eyes widened, but he wasn’t willing to drop his suave front just yet.

“‘Course I do,” he said with a grin.

He turned and sorted through his drawers before tossing you a pair of boxers that looked far too small for him. You raised an eyebrow.

“They don’t fit me anymore. My quads are too big.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes.

“They’ll be tight on me,” you pointed out.

“I know. That’s why I chose them.”

You weren’t sure how the two of you had gone from oral in the bathroom to simply teasing each other while standing next to his bed, but you had to admit that it was hot. You weren’t sure which one of you would crack first and give into finding some sort of release, but you had enough pride to at least try to outlast him.

Without saying anything else, you removed your sweatshirt, exposing your bare chest to him. He stared shamelessly at your hardening nipples, eyes raking over very inch of your chest. You didn’t bother acknowledging him. Instead, you slipped off your jeans, leaving you only in your underwear. You weren’t sure if he could still see the wet patch in the fabric at first, but you got your answer when he let out of a low “mmm” at the sight. He was so vocal, so expressive. You loved it.

“Cute,” he said, stepping closer to you, “Take them off.”

You were surprised by his tone. You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if he was planning on challenging your authority tonight. He’d been crying when he was on his knees for you earlier, so you weren’t sure where this burst of confidence had come from.

“Telling me what to do?” you asked, finger sliding beneath the hem of your underwear.

“‘Cause you’re teasing me,” he said, now inching close enough to press your foreheads together, “Can’t let you do that.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been hard for hours,” he told you, lips ghosting your ear, his words slow and sultry, “And here you are, showing off your tits and playing with the hem of your panties in front of me. That’s cruel.”

He spoke like his tongue was heavy in his mouth. Maybe it was. You subconsciously licked your lips and he slipped a thumb between them in response. You jumped a little, but finally relaxed and allowed him to press his finger down onto your tongue. It made you gag a bit, but you kept your chin tilted upwards and your lips parted, brain foggy as you were overcome with the desire to do whatever he asked. He cooed at you.

“All it takes is something in your mouth to get you to behave?” he asked, removing his thumb. Before you could reply, he gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“This okay?” he followed up, his tone much softer than it was a few seconds ago. He didn’t want to hurt you. You felt warm as you nodded.

“Need to hear you say it, baby,” he told you, kissing your jaw as he continued to hold your chin in place. When you gasped, he smugly added, “With your words.”

“Fuck you,” you snapped, though your words held no real malice, “Yes, this is fine. Anything is fine, just tell me if you’re about to stick your dick in me—“

He cut you off by slipping his index and middle finger into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue once more. When you swallowed around them, he stared at you like he was proud. It made you melt.

“Suck,” he told you gently but still with a degree of authority, “And I already told you. I’m not fucking you for the first time while we’re under the influence. That includes weed. Don’t you listen?”

You could only blink at him, tears pooling in your eyes as he pushed his fingers a bit deeper into your mouth. You stared at him as you sucked, waiting for his instructions beginning to feel like a lifeline to you.

He cooed at you again and you moaned, leaning into his touch when he used his other hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Relax,” he said softly, stroking your cheek, “Good, baby. ‘M gonna have you sit on my lap, okay? But I need you to be quiet for me.”

You blinked at him when he pulled his fingers from your mouth. He eyed the spit coating them, and then looked at you with pride.

Logically, you knew Luke was far stronger than you. You knew he could probably lift you onto his shoulders if he really wanted to. Perhaps your judgment was hindered by the pot, because still, you asked, “What if I’m too heavy?”

He rolled his eyes and took a seat on his bed, back resting against his pillows. He patted his leg and looked at you expectantly.

“C’mon,” he said, “And I already told you to take off your panties.”

“Sorry,” you replied quickly, shaking your head and immediately pulling your underwear down. A small flicker of embarrassment must have flashed across your features, because Luke softened his gaze.

“I had my tongue inside of you earlier,” he reminded you, and you giggled. He was right. You didn’t need to be shy in front of him. He would be good to you.

You crawled onto the bed and stared at him for a second. Instead of immediately turning you around, he pressed a kiss to your lips. You smiled against it, and you felt him do the same. He then gently adjusted you so that your ass was flush against his crotch, your back resting against his chest. You could feel his clothed dick pressing into the cleft of your bare ass. You could feel the sturdiness of his abdomen against your spine. You could feel his hands on your thighs as he slowly pulled them apart, exposing your wet cunt to the chilly air of his room. You instinctively tried to close them again, but his grip on you was strong.

“Relax,” he told you again, and you nodded, willing yourself to melt into his touch, “There you go, baby. Doing such a good job for me. Can you feel how hard I am for you?”

The question made you whimper, loudly, and you felt his chest rise gently with laughter. You felt so exposed, and yet so cared for at the same time. Wordlessly, he trailed his fingers up your neck and pressed against your lips again. You couldn’t see him like this, you could only feel him, and it sent electricity through your body. You parted your lips and granted him access. He fucked your mouth like this until you were squirming, your ass brushing against his erection as you did so. He groaned and grabbed your thigh with his other hand, holding you in place as you drooled around his fingers. You felt humiliated, already so wet just from his fingers in your mouth and his cock pressing against you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed when you began letting out strangled whimpers, rocking your hips forward into nothing as you tried to will him to touch you, “Shh, baby, ‘s okay. I promise I’ll take care of you. I just need you to show me you can be good, okay? After all, you were so mean to me earlier.”

So this was some kind of punishment, then. Having you sit on his lap naked while he made you suck on his fingers. Your only solace was that he couldn’t see how hard you were blushing.

You willed yourself to stop squirming and hold still, leaning farther into his chest. You rested the back of your head against the crook of his neck, and he stilled his fingers a bit. Even when he did, you continued to lightly suck, eyes closing when his other hand released your thigh and came up to grip your breast. He pinched your nipple lightly a few times before pulling on it in a way that almost made you cry out, but you managed to have enough discipline to moan quietly around his fingers instead.

“Good,” he praised you, kissing the top of your head, “Knew you could be good for me. I’ll touch your pussy if you promise to stay quiet, okay?”

Oh. He’d been gagging you to keep you from crying out, you realized. He’d been trying to calm you down enough to be able to touch you without you waking up Chewie in the next room over. Somewhere in the back of your hazy mind, you were a little thankful. But you were mostly aroused.

You nodded to the best of your ability, and you were rewarded with his hand trailing down your stomach and pulling your thighs apart more. Finally, he pulled his fingers from your mouth, and you could see them glisten with your saliva. You gasped when you felt his wet fingers press against your clit, and he immediately stilled.

“‘M sorry,” you said quickly, forcing yourself to hold still because you somehow knew that it’s what he wanted, “I’ll be good. I promise, just need you. I’m sorry, I—“

“Hey, hey,” he cut you off softly, “You’re okay, baby. You’re being so good for me, yeah? Love hearing the sounds you make, but I just don’t want your roommate beating down my bedroom door because he thinks I’m ruining your innocence or something. I’m not mad. I promise, baby.”

The gentleness in his words almost made you tear up. You nodded, sniffling a little, and relaxed against him once more.

“I’m not innocent,” you replied quietly, and he giggled.

“I know,” he said, rolling his eyes fondly at you, before adding more seriously, “You still want this?”

“Please,” you whined, head lolling back against his shoulder again, “Need you to touch me. Please, please—“

He complied, ultimately unable to refuse you. He slowly dragged his fingertips across your clit, and it took all of your willpower not to moan. You sighed instead, trying to enjoy his slow, gentle strokes against your clit as he developed a rhythm. You wanted more, but you tried your hardest to be good for him.

“Think you can take two?” he asked softly, breath fanning against your ear. You nodded quickly, and he once again cooed at your enthusiasm.

Slowly, he slipped two fingers inside of you. Both your entrance and his fingers were wet, so they went in with little resistance. He moaned quietly at how ready you were to take him, and you felt elated to know that you were making him proud.

He kept his pace slow, languidly pumping his fingers inside of you. You whined after what felt like a few minutes of his torturously gentle rhythm, involuntarily squeezing around him to try to keep him there. It made him jolt his hips upwards, which in turn pushed his fingers deeper into you. He groaned at the friction against his aching cock, now resting his head against yours.

“Fuck,” he sighed, gripping your hip firmly with his free hand, “You’re so tight. Thinking about having you squeezing my dick like that—‘s so good, fuck.”

“Luke,” you hissed quietly, his words making you feel dizzy.

He continued to grind against your ass as he crooked his fingers against that perfect spot inside of you, his skill and precision something to behold. He was moaning softly in your ear now with each jerk of his hips, the sounds of his pleasure sending you hurtling towards the edge far too quickly.

“I could cum like this,” he confessed breathily, sighing, “Almost came just from eating you out earlier. God, I was crying. ‘S never happened to me before. You’re so perfect. I—“

You hadn’t meant to cut him off, but your body jolted when his thumb brushed against your clit, and you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning. You managed to keep it somewhat quiet, but it seemed to refocus him, leading him to gently rub circles against where you needed him most.

He held you tighter against him with his other hand. His flannel pajama pants were so thin that you swore you could feel the tip of his dick catching at your hole a few times. He must have felt it too, because he whined into your ear. Only then did you realize that he wasn’t wearing underwear.

He couldn’t stop rocking his hips against you, letting out countless quiet, strangled moans in succession now. Just like earlier, he was losing himself in pleasing you. He was getting off on fingering you.

“So wet, oh—“ he whimpered, the pad of his thumb pressing down more firmly into your clit, “Love your pussy so much, so perfect. Could do this forever.”

You loved how he slurred his words when he was aroused, as if his brain couldn’t quite keep up with his desire, his language weighed down by his need for you. His focus was singular, and you truly felt that he’d do anything to make you feel good. It was raw. Needy. Hot.

You were letting out your own small sighs of pleasure, bucking your hips into his hand and consequently grinding your ass against his length.

“Oh,” he moaned brokenly, holding onto you like he needed you, “You sound so pretty. Wish we didn’t have to be quiet, wanna hear how good I make you feel, ‘s so good, baby—“

He was rambling, but his voice was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality at the moment, grounding you as your senses tried to comprehend your pleasure. No one had ever touched you as expertly as Luke before, and while the thought of his experience made your stomach churn a little, it didn’t matter. Writhing against you, slurred words thick like molasses and a beating hard you could feel behind you—it suddenly felt so clear to you then. Luke was yours.

Something in you snapped, and you were suddenly coming around his fingers. Your cunt squeezed him so tight you could feel his knuckles brushing against your walls, your wetness dripping down his wrist. He somehow knew you were going to cum before you did, because as soon as your orgasm hit, he had fitted his hand over your mouth. You moaned into his palm, allowing him to muffle the sounds of your pleasure. You were grateful for his foresight, because the only thought in your head right now was that he was yours. Your brain repeated it like a mantra, your thoughts so loud that it took you a moment to realize Luke was speaking.

“Oh, baby,” he gasped, hand now sliding down to gently trail across your torso, “You’re so good. So beautiful. Did so well for me, yeah?”

You nodded weakly, brain still hazy from both the weed and your powerful orgasm. You tried to catch your breath as he slowly eased his fingers out of you. The feeling made you whine, and you were surprised when Luke shushed you gently, his hand rubbing circles into your hip, almost as if he were reeling you back into the present.

“I know,” he cooed, the self assurance he occasionally wore in moments of intimacy at the forefront tonight, “It’s okay, honey. You were so good for me. Came so much. So proud of you, baby.”

You melted against his frame, unable to respond. Your exhaustion crashed over you in waves, and finally, you began to catch your breath.

“You okay?” he asked sweetly, fingers combing through your hair.

“Mhm,” you hummed, head lolling to the side before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. A few minutes passed with him just holding you, remaining relatively still, not initiating anything further.

You eventually rolled over to lie on your side next to him. He didn’t react at first, but then your hand made contact with his thigh, the warmth of your palm causing his eyes to snap to you quickly.

“You don’t have to,” he assured you quietly, voice still strained. You needed him terribly.

“I want to,” you told him, staring at him through lidded eyes, “Do you want me to?”

He swallowed, gaze flickering down to where you teased your fingertips along the crease of his thighs, so close to touching him but not close enough to give him any kind of release. When he looked back up at you, his eyes were blown wide.

“Yes,” he admitted shamelessly, “Please.”

You stared at him for a moment, eyes trailing down his neck slowly. You watched him swallow. Despite the way he squirmed a little under your gaze, he remained quiet. You tugged at the bottom of his shirt and he assisted you by lifting his arms, exposing his chest and torso to you. You examined his abs for a moment, pursing your lips together to stop yourself from leaning forward and dragging your tongue across them. With one hand, you pulled his bottoms down, his decision to forego the underwear meaning that his achingly hard cock hit his stomach immediately. The sudden contact with the chilly air made him gasp, a shiver passing through his body. The visual had something delightful stirring within you.

Still not touching his dick, you gently caressed his cheek, bringing his face to yours and capturing his lips. He sighed softly, kissing you back and relaxing into your touch. You considered being gentle, but then you recalled how he’d teased you earlier. You decided then to twist your fingers in the back of his hair and pull, using the startled gasp he let out as an opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth. You felt him jerk against you, but you planted your other hand firmly onto his chest and pushed him back down. You pressed harder when he cried out as you bit down on his lip. When you pulled away, he was completely still, save for the twitching of his flushed tip against his abdomen. He stared at you with wide eyes, and the memory of him tearing up while eating you out flashed across your mind. You thought about how he’d refused to cum then because he had been worried about getting too emotional.

You wanted to see him fully let go, you realized. You wanted him to feel safe enough with you to bare his heart. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to give him that, but you wanted to try. He blinked at you, head cocked slightly to the side in silent curiosity, anticipating your next move.

“Put your hands up here,” you said, gently grabbing his wrists and putting them to rest on his pillow above his head, “You can grab the headboard if you need to, but if you try to touch me or yourself, I’ll stop. Understand?”

He gaped at you for a moment before his lips twisted into a smug grin, seemingly pleased with his predicament.

“Whatever you want,” he replied, making a show of stretching his arms out as he wrapped his hands around one of the headboard posts. You could see his muscles strain the slightest bit, but he was still, for the most part, relaxed.

His grin fell when you shoved two fingers past his lips, and you felt a bit smug yourself, thinking you had finally caught him off guard. You gasped, however, when he immediately sucked, staring up at you through lidded eyes as his cheeks hollowed. He moaned around your fingers, and you suddenly remembered that Luke was incredibly seductive and experienced. He could probably anticipate anything you’d throw at him, you realized. You didn’t let it deter you. Instead, you kept him like this for a bit, admiring how he was like putty in your hands. Finally, you removed your fingers from his mouth, his saliva dropping down them. You locked eyes with him before licking your palm, watching his pupils dilate as you did. With his hands above his head, you were able to melt into his side even more, leaning on your elbow as you wrapped your hand around him at last.

His reaction was nothing short of beautiful. He threw his head back, grip on the headboard tightening, and bit his lip to keep from crying out. You leaned forward then, once again capturing his lips with your own. He moaned, the sound muffled by your kiss, and with the knowledge that you could keep him quiet like this, you began to move your hand. His hips jerked immediately, the feeling of your wet palm dragging across his length causing him to whimper into your mouth.

You stroked him like this for a moment, drowning out all of his moans with your lips against his. He eagerly granted you more access when you swiped your tongue across his lip, opening his mouth for you to claim. And you did, thumb smearing precum across his tip, using it as lube as your hand glided back down to the base. He hissed, hips rocking forward as he helplessly moaned into your mouth. He couldn’t use his hands to make you speed up or to pull you closer. He could, of course, push you away any time he wanted, but he seemed to enjoy being at your mercy like this. You’d never pinned a man down and devoured him while he desperately fucked your fist, but you noted that you were enjoying this too. You decided to tell him as much.

“I like you like this,” you mumbled against his lips, drowning out his quiet panting, “You look so pretty when you let me take care of you.”

When he opened his mouth to reply, you again used it as an opportunity to claim him. His head fell back against the pillows once more, and he let out a pitiful whine as his dick twitched in your palm. Oh, you loved him like this.

“Shh,” you cooed, taking on the same condescending tone he’d used on you earlier, “It’s okay, sweetheart. All you have to do is take it.”

He moaned and tried to nod, but your mouth was on him again in an instant. Something about this act of dominance had him melting into your touch even more than before, stilling his hips and just letting you use his cock however you pleased. You rewarded his behavior by applying a bit more pressure, fingers shaped into a tight ring around the head as you flicked your wrist ever so slightly. He whimpered, but didn’t move, and you tried to think about what he’d say to you in this kind of situation. You pulled away from his lips, heart twisting when he whined at the loss of contact. You were quick to plant a kiss to his neck, kissing up his jawline until your lips reached his ear.

“Being so good for me, Luke,” you whispered lowly, the strangled moan he let out in response only spurring you on, “Yeah? Is that what you want, baby? To be my good boy?”

His grip on the headboard tightened, his cock twitching in your hand and dripping precum across your knuckles. You licked your lips as you watched.

“Oh, that is what you want,” you continued, a breathy giggle fanning against his jaw as you stroked him a bit faster, “You love this.”

“Mmm,” he moaned, the sound low in his throat as his chest heaved, “Fuck, love it so much, please don’t stop. Please, need to cum so bad, been hard all night. Please.”

“I’m not gonna stop, baby,” you told him softly, your gentle tone a great contradiction to your wicked, teasing ministrations on his cock, “I’m gonna take care of you, yeah?”

You followed through by dropping your lips to the side of his neck, continuing to drag your palm against his length as you sucked a hickey into the skin right under his jawline. You felt the muscles in his neck tighten as he tried to keep from moaning too loudly. It must have been overwhelming—frustrating, even—but nevertheless, he tilted his head to give you more access.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed against his neck, “Staying quiet while you let me mark you up and play with your pretty little cock. Gotta make sure everyone knows it belongs to me, yeah?”

You emphasized your point by sucking again, lightly grazing your teeth across the bruise. He nodded quickly, his chin bumping against the top of your head, frantically agreeing with you.

“Ah—! Fuck, yes,” he whimpered, eyes squeezed shut, “Belongs to you. ‘S yours, I’m yours. No one else’s, just yours. Fuck, please—“

“That’s right,” you said, smiling against his neck, “You’re mine.”

He whimpered, and only then did you notice the tears falling from his eyes. He seemed to be trying not to cry, keeping them squeezed closed in an attempt to prevent any tears from escaping. You sat up a little, freeing your other hand and gently brushing a stray tear from his cheek. His eyes flew open then, brows furrowed as he looked up at you with shame burning in his cheeks.

“Sorry,” he choked out, about to move his own hand to wipe the evidence from his face, but then stilling like he’d thought better of it, “Just feels so good. Sorry.”

He looked guilty, like he was expecting you to be mad at him. It made your chest tighten. You just smiled softly and caressed his cheek, keeping his head in place and making him look at you with watery blue eyes. He was beautiful.

“It’s cute,” you reassured him, wiping a few more stray tears from his face, “Told you already. You’re pretty like this.”

He smiled sheepishly at you, but not for long, as you’d cut his serene expression off by gently tugging his cock. He whined low in his throat, eyes falling shut again. You increased your speed, precum coating his dick as your hand glided over him. He was breathing hard now, muscles tensing as he gripped the headboard.

“Fuck, ah,” he moaned, hips jerking again like he just couldn’t help himself, “Please—Ah!”

You had flicked your wrist again, and you could feel him twitching in your palm. He was close. You leaned forward to whisper in his ear again.

“You’re being so good for me, baby,” you cooed, kissing his jaw, “My sweet boy. Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Please,” he sobbed, shamelessly fucking your fist now, “Need it. Please, please—“

“Shh,” you murmured against his neck, placing open mouthed kisses there as well, occasionally gliding your teeth across his skin, “I’ve got you.“

You captured his lips again, claiming his mouth to muffle his moans. They had increased in pitch, and he was shaking in your hands. You had one hand caressing the side of his neck as you continued stroking him, right where a hickey was beginning to bloom. You gently pressed the pad of your thumb into the fresh bruise, and Luke was nearly sobbing against your lips.

“Cum for me,” you ordered, and he thrusted upwards into your hand, moaning brokenly as the heat from your palm became too much.

You leaned in to kiss him again, this time slowly and deliberately, exploring his mouth as if he wasn’t about to cum because of you. His hips gave one final jerk before he choked out a strangled moan, whimpering into your mouth as your hand refused to relent.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming, fuck,” he gasped against your lips, pulling back to catch his breath, “Oh, God—“

He threw his head back when he came, his seed spilling both over your hand and across his abdomen. You kissed him as you continued to stroke him through it, relishing in how he gasped and squirmed in your grip.

“Thank you,” he whined, breathing hard, “Thank you, fuck—“

His cock twitched pathetically as you continued to milk him dry.

“Good boy,” you praised, leaning back to look at the cum pooling on his abdomen, “So proud of you, baby.”

He whined, eyes closed as tears continued to fall anyway. With strange delight, you noted that he hadn’t moved his hands yet. You pressed a kiss to his forehead as you gently tapped his wrists, reminding him that he was allowed to move now. They just dropped next to his head, and you watched as he remained panting, sprawled out before you like a painting to be admired. You stared down again at the pool of cum on his stomach, and with little hesitation you made your decision. Head diving down, you dragged your tongue across his abdomen, teasing him cruelly as you licked up his cum. He could do nothing more than quietly cry out in pleasure, no doubt growing overwhelmed by the feeling of your tongue against him. You placed your hands on his hips as you cleaned him up, keeping him lightly pinned in place. He whimpered weakly, but decided to hold still and be good for you anyway.

When you rose, you crawled back over to his side, planting light kisses to his cheek. He sighed, leaning into your touch as you cradled his face.

“So beautiful,” you told him, admiring his tear-stained face, “So handsome.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly, a small smile playing at his lips.

He opened his arms as a gesture for you to lie on his chest. You happily obliged, resting your head over his heart as he held you closely to him. You melted into his embrace, rubbing small circles into his skin wherever you could reach. He sighed, sounding content, and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I promise I won’t cry every time,” he finally said, sounding hoarse. You looked up at him, transfixed by how his eyelashes looked a little darker when they were wet. He was glowing.

“I don’t mind,” you told him, listening to his heartbeat.

“I don’t usually do that,” he murmured sheepishly, sighing and turning his head.

“Am I hurting you?” you asked, unable to completely quell your previous worries.

“No!” he said quickly, turning back to look at you, “No, you’re perfect, I’m just—I’m learning things about myself.”

You quirked brow at him, smiling, “Oh yeah? Like what?”

He shifted a little, clearly a bit embarrassed. Seeing Luke get embarrassed about sex was particularly funny, given how openly sexual he was in any other circumstance.

“The stuff you say,” he mumbled, “That’s just not what people usually say to me during sex, and I’m like, a hopeless romantic, so it’s just—I don’t know. It makes me feel vulnerable.”

You didn’t say anything at first, instead digesting his words for a moment. The protective pang in your gut you often got when thinking about how other people perceived Luke made itself known to you then. He noticed.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, still blushing, “Like, it’s not anyone’s fault. No one was bad to me during sex or anything. It’s just—no one’s ever called me that.”

You didn’t understand what he meant at first.

“Called you what?” you asked, and then, before he could answer, you realized, “Oh, a good boy?”

He squirmed and buried his face in his pillow, huffing. You giggled at his reaction and lightly nudged him, making him turn back around to face you. You were relieved to see that he was smiling.

“It’s just different,” he said, “Letting someone else take control. I mean, I’ve had dominant partners, but I don’t know. I guess I’ve never trusted anyone enough to just fully give into that.”

“Well, we don’t have to do that, y’know. I’m down for whatever.”

“No,” he replied, absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair, “I like it a lot. It’s just usually kinda hard for me to do that with people, but I trust you. I don’t think I wanna do that every time though, if that’s okay. Like, I also really enjoy taking care of you.”

You smiled, cuddling closer to him, sighing happily when his arms wrapped tightly around you again.

“I trust you too,” you told him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat luring you into closing your eyes, “And of course that’s okay. ‘M never gonna force you into a role you don’t wanna be in. Just don’t be afraid to let me know if something isn’t working for you, yeah?”

He was quiet for a moment, and you briefly wondered if you’d said something wrong. Maybe talking about sex so technically was awkward for him? You were about to apologize when he spoke.

“Thanks,” he said softly, his voice a little quiet, “It means a lot that you um, care so much. About my comfort, I mean.”

He sounded shy. You hummed, eyes still closed as you smoothed your hand down over the expanse of his chest, a sleepy attempt at comforting him. It seemed to work, because you felt him relax a bit under your touch.

“I care about you,” you replied, now gently stroking the bicep you could reach. He giggled and grabbed your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You opened yours eyes, a bit confused, only to see him smiling softly at you.

“You’re sweet,” he told you, moving your hands back to your sides, “And you’re about to fall asleep.”

“I can still pet you,” you argued tiredly. He laughed.

“Pet me?” he repeated, brow raised in amusement. You sighed and buried your head in his side, trying to hold him again.

“You should get under the blankets,” he told you softly, gently peeling your hands from him, “You’re naked. You’ll get cold in the middle of the night.”

“You’re warm,” you argued, but he, of course, outmatched you in strength, detaching himself from you and standing to pull the covers down. You glared at him through tired eyes, but he only laughed, quickly pulling the blankets over you and then settling back into bed. He turned you on your side with an ease that gave you butterflies, securing his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him, spooning you. You swore you felt the tension melt from your body, eyes fluttering closed as he held you tightly.

You felt so safe, so warm, and you were barely holding onto consciousness when you thought you heard him mumble something to you. You stirred a little, but didn’t have the energy to ask him what he’d said.

You had probably imagined it, anyway

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