okay this is dubious canon at best but the idea that all rebel pilots are constantly on stimulants does make sense to me because of well. the history of warfare. it then totally paints esb in a new light because imagine you're luke skywalker, in active withdrawal from your army-mandated uppers, and some fucking frog wizard shows up
that scene in tlo where thalia tells percy he can't start feeling sorry for luke bc luke made his choices. and thalia reveals that the reason they couldn't make it to camp in time for all of them to make it to camp was bc luke kept picking fights. and annabeth never saw this as wrong bc luke was her hero. so thalia had to pick up the pieces. and percy thinking both that luke was put in a cruel position and that luke was putting others in a cruel position. and percy is the only character who understood both sides of luke bc annabeth sees only the best of him and thalia sees only the worst. and that's why percy is the prophecy kid and the one who gives luke the knife. bc annabeth had spent the entire series essentially giving luke the knife when he didn't deserve it. and thalia was never going to give luke the knife. but percy is the only one who can see exactly when luke deserves the knife.
★ A/N - i have not a lot to say ab this... anon 🐛 wanted lake house luke smut, so i ran with it❤️. i'm very grateful for all you divas who have been supporting me and read my stuff. i'll kiss each one of y'all if you'd let me.
☾ warnings - dryhumping (YALL DONT GET THE HYPE OF TS, HOP ON BOARD), dirty talk????????, sleepy smut, established relationship, unrealistic luke waking up... ik that guy would most definitely sleep through a tornado, not proofread properly (i am so tired and gave up)
APPARENTLY I DONT KNOW HOW TO LABEL THINGS AGAIN
✽ word count - 1786 words
The first time you wake up, it’s because of thunder.
Low and distant over the lake, vibrating softly through the walls of the lake house while the fan hums somewhere in the corner. The room is dark except for silver moonlight spilling through the curtains, enough to make out the shape of Luke beside you.
Bare chest. Curls sticking up all over the place. One arm heavy around your waist, even asleep, keeping you tucked close against him.
And god, that’s the problem.
Because you’ve been trying to behave all week.
Trying not to think about the way his swim trunks hang low on his hips when he’s carrying coolers down to the dock. About the lazy touches he gives you in passing, completely unaware of what they do to you. His hand settling on your thigh during movie nights. His mouth brushing your temple when everyone’s around. The teasing little “you okay, baby?” when he catches you staring too long.
You’ve been trying.
But now it’s the middle of the night, warm rain tapping softly outside, and you wake up aching.
Actually physically aching.
Your thighs press together instinctively beneath the blankets, and you let out the smallest frustrated breath into the dark.
Beside you, Luke shifts.
“Baby?” His voice is rough with sleep.
You close your eyes for a second. Of course he decided now would be the perfect time to be a light sleeper. “Go back to sleep.”
Immediately, he’s more awake, one hand sliding slowly over the surface of your waist. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Mm.” He pulls himself up onto one elbow, peering down at you with sleepy suspicion. “You’re squirming around.”
Heat floods your face.
“Lu,” you whisper miserably.
That alone tells him everything.
He softly exhales through his nose, his hand squeezing your hip gently, the mattress shifting when he tries not to laugh too hard.
“My poor girl,” he murmurs.
You groan quietly and bury your face in his chest. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not.” His lips brush your hair. “C’mere.”
He shifts onto his back and pulls you over him until you’re half sprawled across his chest, one of his hands smoothing slowly down your spine beneath your oversized sleep shirt that you had stolen from his closet earlier.
“You need me that bad?”
Your silence answers his question.
Luke lets out the quietest laugh, warm and sleepy and unfairly sweet. “Baby…”
“It’s your fault,” you mutter against his skin. “Walking around looking like that all day.”
“Looking like what?”
You lift your head just enough to glare at him.
His grin appears faintly in the dark.
“There she is.”
You try to hide your face again, but he catches your chin gently between his fingers before you can.
Moonlight catches the softness in his expression when he looks at you.
No longer teasing, just completely gone for you.
“My love,” he says quietly, thumb brushing your bottom lip, “you could’ve woken me up.”
“I just did.”
“Mm. True.”
His mouth finds yours slowly, lazily at first.
Sleepy kisses that melt deeper after only a few seconds because you can’t help it—you kiss him like you’ve been starving all week. Your fingers slide into his hair immediately, tugging softly, and Luke exhales against your mouth, chest rising sharply beneath yours.
“Easy,” he murmurs, though his hands tighten on your waist. “You’re basically shaking.”
“I know.”
“You wanna tell me what you need?”
Another whine leaves your throat before you can stop it, and Luke actually groans this time, forehead dropping briefly against yours.
“Jesus christ.”
Your hips shift instinctively against him, feeling out how hard he already is beneath his boxers, the sensation makes your head spin.
“Baby,” he breathes warningly, but he doesn’t stop you.
One large hand settles firmly on your hip while you move against him again, slow and desperate through the thin fabric between you both. The friction pulls a quiet gasp from your mouth, and Luke’s eyes close for a second, his jaw tightening while he fights for control.
“There you go,” he whispers. “That feel good?”
You nod quickly.
“So needy tonight.”
You kiss him again before he can tease you more, and he lets you climb further over him, lets your thighs spread around his hips while his hands drag slowly up and down your sides.
The rain outside gets heavier, but inside, everything feels warm and hazy and messy.
Luke’s mouth leaves yours only long enough to kiss along your jaw, your throat, lingering beneath your ear when you grind down harder against him.
“Fuck,” he mutters softly.
Your hands clutch at his shoulders.
“Lu, please—”
“I know, sweet girl. I know.”
His voice drops lower, soothing enough to make your stomach tighten.
One hand slides into your hair, tilting your head back gently so he can look at you.
“You’re so pretty when you need me.”
The praise goes straight through you.
Your movements get sloppier after that, desperate little drags of your hips making the bed creak softly beneath you both. Luke watches the whole thing with heavy eyes and parted lips, caught somewhere between calming you down and making it worse. He kisses you again, deep enough to steal the air from your lungs. When you whimper into his mouth, pulling back slightly to brush his thumb along your lower lip.
“So sensitive,” he whispers. “Look at you.”
Your thighs squeeze around him hard enough to make him groan.
“Baby,” he says against your mouth, voice strained now, "you keep moving like that and I’m not gonna last long.”
But his hands are still guiding your hips, still helping you grind against him slow and deep until your breathing turns shaky and uneven.
Every soft sound you make seems to hit him right in the chest.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Use me.”
Your forehead drops against his shoulder as you move faster without meaning to, chasing the pressure desperately while Luke holds you steady beneath him.
“There you go, my love,” he says softly, kissing the side of your head.
A shaky sound leaves your throat when he rolls his hips up into yours once, slow enough to make your stomach tighten painfully.
“Oh my God.”
Luke huffs out a laugh at that, though it sounds strained now.
“Yeah?” His hands spread wider over your hips, fingers digging in just enough to keep you moving against him. “Feel good?”
You nod helplessly against him.
The chain around his neck catches against the collar of your shirt every time your bodies shift together, riding higher on your thighs while his hands keep roaming over your waist and hips. Everything feels too warm, too tight, too sensitive.
Especially when Luke starts whispering to you.
“That’s my girl.”
“Pretty thing.”
“So desperate for me.”
Each one goes straight through you.
Your breathing breaks apart completely when he kisses under your jaw again, open-mouthed and lingering this time. He’s still half sleepy and still soft around the edges from being dragged out of bed, but there’s something wrecked in the way he touches you now.
He likes this far too much.
Your hips stutter when the friction finally starts building properly, enough to make your eyes squeeze shut. Luke notices immediately.
He whispers again, softer this time. “C’mon, sweet girl. Let go for me.”
You bury your face in his neck with a muffled whine.
“I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” His hand slides up your back slowly, calming and grounding all at once. “I got you.”
The words hit something deep in your chest.
Suddenly it’s too much. His voice, the rain outside, the way he keeps kissing your forehead between every sentence as if he can’t stop touching you.
Your movements turn frantic for a second before Luke steadies you again.
“Easy,” he murmurs, repeating, “I got you.”
“Lu—”
“I know, baby. I know.”
Luke kisses you slow again, grounding and deep, but the second you grind down harder against him, he breaks with a low groan into your mouth. His forehead falls against yours, eyes squeezed shut for a second while he exhales shakily.
“You’re killing me.”
“Sorry,” you whisper automatically.
That makes him laugh softly despite everything.
“Don’t apologize.” His nose nudges against yours affectionately. “I like when you need me.”
Your hips move again before you can help it, a moan cracking from within you as your clit drags perfectly against his throbbing length through your clothes.
Luke curses quietly under his breath. “That’s the one, huh?”
You nod quickly, breathing unevenly now.
He keeps helping you through it, guiding your rhythm with both hands firm on your waist while his own hips start moving more openly beneath you.
Every rock forward pulls another broken sound from your throat.
You finally lift your head enough to see him properly.
His hair is messy, lips swollen from kissing you, chest rising hard beneath your hands.
Completely undone for you, and the sight nearly makes you cum alone.
“Luke…” Your voice breaks around his name.
“I know.” His hand slides into your hair again immediately, gentle despite the tension running through him. “I know, my love. I got you.”
The praise and softness and pressure all blur together at once.
Your movements lose rhythm completely, desperate now. The second your forehead drops into his neck with a choked little sound, core snapping, twitching from your orgasm with unsteady breaths, Luke’s composure finally snaps too.
“Oh, fuck.”
His hands grip your hips hard enough to still you for a second while a sharp breath punches out of him. His head tips back against the pillow, spilling into his boxers while he rides it out beneath you, every muscle tense under your hands.
“That’s it,” he whispers hoarsely, pulling you back down against his chest almost immediately after. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”
You can feel the uneven rise and fall of his breathing against your cheek while his hands rub slowly up and down your back again, gentler now.
Rain fills the silence for a few seconds.
Thunder rumbles somewhere out over the water.
Then quietly, still catching his breath, Luke presses a kiss to your temple.
“Feel better?”
A sleepy little laugh leaves you against his skin.
“So much better.”
“Yeah?” His arms tighten around you beneath the blankets. “Good.”
You stay tangled together in the dark for a long time after that, Luke lazily tracing shapes onto your spine while the storm rolls softly over the lake outside.
Every few minutes he kisses your forehead absentmindedly, warm and lingering.
“My sweet girl,” he murmurs eventually, his voice drifting and sleepy again. “Next time just wake me up sooner.”
thank u for reading!! feel free to chat in my inbox!! i am always down to be a freak or talk whenever! ✭
