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#dilf!Luke
rubixcuby · 7 months
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Oh shit I never posted this here😨
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luxthestrange · 2 months
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Incorrect quotes#957 When your 10 year old knows you got no rizz-
Adopted!Dad Solomon with His Son Luke...
Sol*Drinking his coffee and...decides now is the perfect time to tell his son*-I have to tell you something...
Luke*Stops prepping lunch and looks at his dad*What?
Sol: I started seeing someone-
Luke: HEHEHEHEEH-
Sol*Offended eye roll seeing Luke laughing instantly*...
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Luke*Still laughing nonstop HEHEHEHEEH-....HAHAHAAH!~
Sol*Raises a brow and drinks his coffee, still offended*...
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Luke*Is now on the ground...STILL LAUGHING, holding his sides*HAHAHAHAAH!~HE-heheheeh!~
Sol*Is trying to keep a straight face but is quietly wheezing looking at him*...s-stop!
Luke*Looks up at him and continues to laugh harder and louder*
Sol*Shaking his head and tries to lecture him*S-STOOP-WHEEZE-
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Sol: Come on, I'm serious i started seeing somebody...what do you think about that?
Luke: Seeing someone as in "Dating" or seeing somebody as an "Allucination"?
Both:
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...want this to be a thing guys?
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forcemeanakin · 11 months
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𝗙𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 ('𝘀 𝗱𝗮𝗱) - 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮
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•WARNINGS: Semi-smut. Age gap !!! Infidelity kink !!! (you’ve been warned, so if you do not agree pls leave because I’ll delete any hateful comments about this). Dirty talk, teasing in a public space, voyeurism, make out session. Mentions of an unhappy relationship/divorce/troubled marriage. 
Pairing: dilf!Anakin Skywalker x female!reader.
Series Summary: Luke takes you home for Life’s Day. On the edge of giving up on you two, Skywalker manages to light up a fire inside of you again. Problem is… wrong Skywalker.
Part Two Summary: After your little moment with Mr. Skywalker last night, you’re determined to persuade your father-in-law into fucking you. Right on the dinner table with everyone else around. Including your boyfriend. 
Word count: 3.5K.
Link to Part One
A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao. 
I’m super excited to announce that I’m very motivated to continue the journey of this pairing, so I’ll be turning FYBD into a series! :) but please be patient! I don’t usually deliver short fics, that’s why it takes me so long to post ! (also look at me trying to polish my themes, omg who am I?)
NEXT PART WILL BE PUBLISHED ON SATURDAY !!!! <3 Consider this as a Part 2.1. If you wanna be tag on it, leave me a comment below :)
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“Alright, everyone gather at the table! Dinner 's ready!” Padmé yelled, placing the last set of plates while Leia dropped the center piece. 
“Sugar, you look like a million bucks.” Luke complimented your outfit while you finished up accessorizing, hiding your eye roll by clipping your earrings. 
Last night, you eventually made it to bed with him, feeling uneasy the rest of the night. You gave Luke your back, refusing to cuddle or respond to his arms wrapped around your waist. Tossing and turning, every time you shut down you dreamed about Anakin and his lustful orbs. And, unlike someone with common sense, you didn’t feel guilt from your forbidden target. No, it riled you up even more. 
Being spooned by your boyfriend while thinking about his dad. 
The naughtiness of it was a thrill you didn’t want to stop chasing.
“Is that dress new?” From the moment you woke up to this very instant, Luke hadn’t stopped apologizing and drowning you in compliments and demonstrations of affection.
Yet you still hadn’t responded to him with the same tenderness, prolonging your fight. The reality was that you had already forgotten all about the “slut” bomb, but staying angry at him somehow justified daydreaming about fucking Anakin. 
“Thank you.” You replied coldly, checking yourself one last time in the mirror, turning around to make sure the back side wasn’t wrinkled.
You had chosen the tight, long, black dress even before making it your personal mission to seduce your boyfriend’s dad. You were now thanking Y/n from the past for packing something so flattering and form fitting to this particular event. It’s not like you were out of place, everyone was dressing up as well. 
“Guys! I’m not calling you again!” Padmé rushed. 
“Y/n I don’t want us to keep fighting… Not this weekend, please?” Luke caught your attention by trapping your hands inside his palms. “I’ll do better. Be more adventurous for you…” He murmured, caressing your arms with tenderness. Arching an eyebrow at your cleavage, “Maybe make it up to you tonight?”
Disappointment settled in your chest at the prospect of not spending the night with Anakin.
“Sure.” You faked a smile. “I’d like that.”
“Great.” He kissed your cheek, missing your horrorized face. “Now, after you, m’lady.” He exaggerated a bow for you to walk in front of him.
You snorted, “You’re such a dork.”
Luke escorted you to the table, pulling your chair to sit right in the middle of him and the empty head of the table. Right in front of you was Padmé, with a gorgeous light blue gown and beside her was Leia, who was trying to sit down Han at the other head of the table.
“I don’t want to sit right in front of your dad!” He whispered-yelled, being harshly pushed by his girlfriend to sit his ass down. To be such a tiny person, she sure was strong.
“Try to bond!” She whispered back, fanning herself so the sweat wouldn’t ruin her makeup.
“I'll get food poisoning” He huffed, crossing his arms in a childish manner. “And he’ll puke in my face.” 
You couldn’t help but giggle, accepting Padmé’s offering of a glass of wine while observing Han’s pout.
“Easy for you to laugh, newbie.” He scoffed with his usual feistiness. “Could you please do something despicable so he hates you instead of me?”
Oh, you sure had done something to scare him off. 
After he practically ran away from you at full speed, you hadn’t seen him all day. Leia and Han adopted you the whole morning, taking you to pick up some stuff for dinner and showing you around the area. Luke joined in at lunch time, after dealing with a way-too-long call from his friend Din. And even when you came back to the house, Anakin was secluded in his little cave, his personal workshop, in the back of the house and hadn’t showed up at all. 
“Y/n, love that dress, you’ll have to lend it to me.” Leia complimented mid sip.
“Manners, Leia.” Padmé scolded her, head moving in disapproval as she set her napkin on her lap.
“You can borrow it whenever you want.” You winked at the short girl, earning a heartfelt smile. 
“It’s perfect for my funeral.” Han dramatically threw himself on the backrest.
“Han, I can’t think of something I could do that would make him dislike me more than you.” You joked, cracking a breadstick. 
Yes, you could.
“Maybe you could kick R2. At least that’s what Han did.” Luke snorted, Han’s head snapping to send daggers to the blonde. 
“I didn’t kick R2!” Han raised his voice while wincing. 
“Yeah, you did.” Leia murmured under her breath. 
“I accidentally fell on him!  How was I supposed to know that he was behind me?” Han freaked out, dramatizing the scenery. “Oh, who am I trying to convince? You already made up your mind about it.” He dismissed the potential debate, shooting the rest of his beer. 
“Han, you’re overreacting, he doesn’t hate you.” Padmé reassured him with a soft smile. “That much.” She said under her breath. 
“How bad could dad actually be?” Luke rolled his eyes, picking one of the entreés to stuff into his mouth in one bite.
You googled him while you were supposed to be showering: the “Hero with No Fear” had enough battles, manslaughtering and war crimes under his belt for Han’s panic to have grounds, your deep investigation showed.
“Ha! You haven’t endured his bullying for two years.” Han crossed his foot over his knee. 
“And counting.” The voice that had you clenching around nothing boomed through the air, his figure appearing just when Han was about to eat a piece of breadstick, immediately choking. “Good, now I don’t have to do it myself…” Anakin muttered under his breath.
Anakin’s eyes widened when he distinguished that the seat reserved for him was right by your side. His usual seat was always at the head of the table, but having you at arm's reach was exceptionally dangerous after the occurrences of last night. It felt like all his hard work of avoiding you all day was just thrown into the trash with a single sweep. He convinced himself that he had to push through dinner, eating faster than usual and quickly returning to his workshop and wait until everybody left the dining room, so he could safely seek refuge in his bedroom.
Nonetheless, faith had a different path for him. One of painful blue balls and heavy sweating. 
Why did you have to wear that dress? Was it indeed appropriate for a family dinner or was it just him thinking too much of it with the head inside his pants?
And why were you smirking at him like he was the meal you were about to devour?
“Anakin, good, you’re here. Let’s say grace so we can properly start eating.” Padmé announced, glaring at her son that was currently on his third appetizer.
Padmé thanked the Maker for having the whole family here, making special emphasis on being grateful for you this year, the new member of the family. You popped an eye open, and voilá, Anakin was staring at you while her wife praised you to the rest of the table. Separating your palms from praying position, you dropped one on top of his, careful not to make a single noise. You drew random figures inside his palms with your nail, biting your lip as you checked him out. If his handsome face wasn’t enough already, he was wearing a full suit, black tie on top of a white buttoned up. 
Perfect to rip apart.
“And please bless this delicious meal that it’s about to feed us… Amen.” Right before she could pronunciate that final word, Anakin had slapped your hand away. “Alright, let’s dig in! Ani, honey, could you do the honors and carve the turkey?”
Whatever that would keep him away from temptation. 
Getting up, Anakin picked up the utensils, turning the turkey around to cut into it. Doing the proper round, he asked every single person their meat preferences before making the incision, starting with his wife. Anakin quickly ruled that him with knives and using his strength to lash a large piece of meat wasn’t the best evasive mechanism when he spotted you drooling over his flexed bicep. 
“Dad, I want a leg.” Leia requested, passing up her plate to him.
“Sure, darling.” Anakin propped the leg on her plate carefully. “Good choice.”
“I want one too, please.”  Han put his plate up in his direction.
Anakin glared and huffed, but eventually dumped the requested piece on Han’s dish. “Fucking child…”
Giving up, Han dropped on his chair, violently biting the leg. After Luke picked white meat, Anakin had no other choice but to pay attention to you. 
“Y/n-” He cleared his throat, ignoring your subtle attempt to press your cleavage against the table so your tits would pop into his vision. “How do you like your meat?”
Anakin regretted that question the second he formulated it. Although, he was appreciative that the brawl between the twins deprived everyone else from your answer. 
You offered your plate to him, wide doe eyes as your foot grazed his shin. “I like my meat tender.” Your velvety voice sent an electric wave directly to his groin.
The rest of the dinner was no better. 
Playing footsie, curling your hair with your finger, glancing at him longer than necessary, more lascivious than necessary. There was this particular moment that still had his mind-blown: You, leaned over to Luke to whisper something in his ear, gaining a laugh from him in complicity and sealing the adorable scene with a quick peck, all while your sandal made its way up to an escalating boner inside Anakin’s underpants. 
“Pass the salt, please.” Anakin requested out loud, clearing his throat, seeking a distraction.
But you were fast as a bolt. 
“There you go, sir.” Flashbacks from your face all flustered calling him that kicked in, the salt shaker falling from his hand at his nervousness and the contact of your hand. 
“Y/n, question.” Leia broke through the madness of noises. 
“Of course, shoot.” Anakin was amazed at your ability to smile like nothing was happening underneath the table, like you weren’t trying to touch his thigh underneath the table cloth with the hand that wasn’t supporting your chin. 
“What’s your major? I think I haven’t asked you that yet.” Leia swallowed a spoonful of sweet potato casserole. 
“I’m a psych major.” You drank a bit of your wine. 
“Oh, that solves the mystery. You’re dating Luke as an experiment, aren’t you?” Leia mocked, earning a kick from her brother. “Auch, laser brain!”
“Leia!” Padmé scolded her. 
“My God, have you been psychoanalyzing us this whole time?” Han stopped chewing his biscuit as he stared deep into your soul. “How bad is it?” He was dead serious.
“Oh my- No! No! I haven’t, I promise.” You totally had.
“Could you please prescribe something to mom so she relaxes once in a while?” Leia begged. “Or give her a session, whatever works.”
“Bet you are thrilled to hear Y/n is a psychologist, huh, sir? Know how much you love shrinks, Mr. Skywalker.” Han’s sarcasm revealed -in a very obvious way- how much Anakin did not like your profession. 
“Still better than being a smuggler.” Anakin bit down on a piece of meat with venom directly right at Han. 
“Oh, dad!” Luke exclaimed. “You should do dad!”
You grinned at the way Anakin almost spit his drink. 
“I’m so open to that, sir.” You turned to meet the former Jedi’s face and smirked with mischief at Anakin’s knuckles turning white on his grip on the chair. 
“Do you do the little shrink couch thing?” Han wondered with his mouth full. 
“I mean, if the patient wants to lay down while I do all the work, that’s fine by me.” You laughed innocently, batting your eyelashes to Anakin the second everyone got distracted trying to guess what you would diagnosed Han with.
Sensing Anakin’s heavy breathing, you did the whole charade of dropping your fork onto the floor, obliged to pick it up. As much as Anakin tried to nervously hide the bulge in his pants, you confirmed that your little game was in fact working. You sat back on your chair with a victorious snicker.
“Oh, c’mon dad! Let Y/n work her magic on you! You bottle so much stuff, it’s good to let them out.” Leia reasoned, completely missing the panicked face of the woman that gave birth to her.
“Suddenly, I’m full.” Anakin announced, cleaning the sauce off the edges of his mouth and tossed the napkin to his plate, getting ready to leave.
“You can’t go, we haven’t had dessert yet.” Padmé frowned, signaling with a harsh glare to sit back down. 
“Why don’t Luke and I take care of that?” You stood up, picking up the empty plates around. 
“Oh, no, sweetie, you’re a guest-” 
“No problem at all! Please let me take care of you.” The fact that you said that while collecting Anakin’s plate was a true coincidence. 
“Only if you let Han and I wash the dishes!” Leia negotiated, following her mother’s welcoming values.
“Shut up, I bet they were going to do it anyway.” Han grunted with gritted teeth. 
“We’ll be back with dessert.” You declared, dividing the tower of plates and walking to the kitchen with your boyfriend. 
While Luke threw away the leftovers, you came back to scoop up the rest of the plates with the side dishes and so. You surveyed everyone about their dessert preferences, until you reached a spot next to Anakin. 
“Padmé, back me up here! Wouldn’t it be cool if we save money on rent and live in the Falcon?” Han upped his voice to match Leia’s.
“I'm not living on a ship that’s falling apart, Han!”
“It would be an adventure every day!”
Sliding by Anakin’s side to hoist up the gravy bowl, you briefly grazed his shoulder with your chest, excusing the lame contact by your need to stretch for the dish. While you were leaned over him, the low-cut of your dress exposed to his delight, you turned your head and asked him:
“Would you like dessert, sir?” No one would figure that your question had any double meaning, but Anakin knew the filthy desires your eyes hid. 
“Not for me, thanks.” He smiled curtly, doing a superhuman effort not to fall into the teasing of your playful peaks behind the tight fabric. 
“Are you sure, Mr. Skywalker? The pie’s so soft and warm, very creamy. Baked it myself.” Anakin visibly shuddered, inhaling sharply as he closed his eyes while gripping the armrest. 
You grinned, thanking your hair for covering your expressions to the rest of the family so you could bite your lip lecherously. 
“On a diet.” He spat, playing with his fork to avoid the magnetic pull of your wanting eyes. And if you hadn’t taken the hint, he rubbed his eye with his left hand, showing off the gold band in his ring finger. 
“Please, it’s cheat day.” You curved your lips into a smirk, feeling clever at the pun. “Just a taste? Bet you’ll love it.” That tortuous glint in your eyes. It had him, it had him good. 
“He’s always playing hard to get, Y/n. Bring him a piece!” Padmé interrupted the moment, smiling at you and Anakin, unaware of the tension she had just cut off. 
“I see that.” You finally left the table, not without grazing his back with your swaying hips.
“You know what? I’ll help you with these.” Anakin barked, standing up and picking the few dishes left.
“Oh-” You stiffened at his huge figure walking towards you. You were not prepared for him to bite into the trap. “Not necessary, sir. I’ll come back for the rest.”
“Let me. It’s the least I can do.” Standing in front of you, he raised his eyebrows to hurry you. 
Nervously, you made your way to the small aisle before the kitchen, feeling the powerful pounding of your heart. His presence hung heavy behind you and suddenly the bravery you had flagged during supper had magically disappeared, the only trail it left were your jelly legs. Mere feet from the kitchen door, you felt a pull from your waist, your back stamping against the wall. 
“Is this funny to you?” Anakin glared at you, pressing your torso enough to threaten your ability to breathe. “Trying to break up a marriage, being the homewrecker of your boyfriend’s family? While he’s at the table?”
You tried to escape, fighting against him for your release. But if the enlarging of his nostrils was any sign, you were not going anywhere anytime soon. It was time to summon that feistiness back. 
“You can’t mess up something that’s already broken.” You snapped, squinting your eyes. “Why are you really here Anakin? To tell me off?” You cocked an eyebrow, glancing down at him. “You don’t seem rather convincing.”
Being between a rock and a hard place had a whole other meaning when you were sandwiched between the wall… and Anakin’s crotch. 
“Stop it.” He demanded, seeing the way you put aside the dishes on a nearby table to play with the lapels of his suit. 
“That’s not what you were saying last night.” You grazed your lips against his chin, enjoying the quivering that came from it. “Why do you fight it, Anakin? And don’t pull up your lame excuse of a marriage, when we both know that’s not the reason.”
Anakin pushed you by your throat, your head hardly banging against the wallpaper. He overlooked your whining, taking advantage of your dizziness to get his point through.
“Forget me, Y/n. All about me. All that happened.” He warned in a deeper voice. “For my sake. For yours.”  
“Tell me you don’t want me, Anakin, and I’ll stop, hell, I’ll fucking leave.” You murmured with a fire in your eyes letting him know that you weren’t joking around. “Just say the words and I’ll be out of your face.”
Disappointment settled in Anakin’s chest at the prospect of not seeing you anymore. 
So he stayed silent, waiting for the duel inside his head to end and speak the winner’s name: lust or reason. Luke’s voice calling for his girlfriend helped the struggle come to a conclusion. 
“You haven’t answered the question.” You reminded him, to his disdain. “I want you, Anakin, you-”
“Forget me, Y/n. It may be too late for me, but there may be salvation for Luke and you.” He advised, pushing the plates back to you, stepping back. 
“Y/n! I need help over here!”  Luke again.
“Alright. Loud and clear, sir.” You spat, brushing past Anakin while he still stared at the floor.
Marching down to where the voice was calling you, you encountered Luke elbow deep into the water.
“Hey, you brought the rest of the-” 
“Did you mean it? When you said you wanted to be more spontaneous?” Your breathing was irregular from the adrenaline rush. 
“What?” Luke frowned, drying up his forearms with the hand towel. 
“Kiss me, Luke. Kiss me now.” You demanded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing against him.
“It’s everything okay? Why-”
“Luke! Please.” You purred on his ear, peppering smooches along his cheek. “Kiss me, please.”
Once Luke caught up with your level of neediness, he delivered the antidote for your hornyness. Hands fixed on your hips, Luke’s lips found yours and played along at the dangerous pace you set. The makeout session quickly escalated: out of nowhere you were roughly jammed against the counter top, manly hands sliding to your back side to squeeze some of the fat. You reciprocated Luke’s attention by playing with his hair as you sucked his bottom lip. It wasn’t nearly as exciting as kissing Anakin; because even when you and Luke were almost sucking each other’s face off, he was still too gentle for you.
But thrill didn’t take long to appear through the door. 
Anakin’s stroll to the kitchen ceased at the door frame, when he spotted the heated embrace you two were entangled in. Thankfully, the only person he could see was you and barely because of Luke’s back. So your visual connection was only possible because you managed to angle your boyfriend so you could see Anakin above his shoulder. 
Luke moaned when you hugged him tighter, kissed him harder. 
“Y/n.” He moaned, unaware that your sudden passion was boosted at the sight of his dad’s heaving chest.”You’re so hot, sugar.”
“I want you.” You whimpered, staring dead into Anakin’s eyes. “I need you.” Your naked leg escaped the slit from your dress, surrounding Luke’s hip. “Just do it. Give it to me.”
Whatever sweet nothing Luke murmured into your ear flew right under your radar as you delighted yourself with the view of Anakin’s hurting frown. The image was ripped away from you when Luke physically circled your attention back to you. 
“You’re so beautiful, Y/n. You’re too much for me.” Thanking him, you came back to kissing, the only escape route you had at hand to evade his love bombarding. 
However, Luke’s cringy dirty talk was the second most disappointing thing to happen in that kitchen, just after Anakin leaving.
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taglist : @darthgloris @ingrid69ers @shulipp @bookishnights03 @anakinswh0re419 @fuckmyskywalker@dxviiin
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dawnbreakerluna · 2 months
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single father sylus who falls in love with his sons' kindergarten teacher
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noramsblog · 1 year
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Jedi school activities
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clementinesmustyhat · 1 month
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i love how fugly he is
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se-agapo-skywalker · 9 months
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The Old Man and the Sea
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Flashbacks are italicized
CW: age gap (dilf!Luke Skywalker), oral sex (f!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), unprotected sex, usage of petname "master," mild degradation
WC: 4.4k
"You are no Jedi... nor am I." Luke's back faces you, his solemn eyes cast upon the sea. "I cannot train you."
You reach out to touch his shoulder. "Master, please-"
He flinches away from you, almost recoiling in disgust and shock, all the while keeping his face away from yours. "I already told you. That title no longer means anything to me."
"Then what should I call you? Sir?"
He sighs and shakes his head. "No, I'm not that old..."
"Mr. Skywalker?"
"Too formal."
You pause to think, considering your words carefully. "...How about just Luke?"
Finally, he turns his head to look at you. His eyes reflect a strange vulnerability, sadness and fondness all mixed into one, emotions he tries to keep as hidden as possible. He isn't doing a very good job.
Luke nods, silently, once again casting his eyes down to avoid your gaze. "Just Luke."
Snuggled up into Luke's side, you twirl a lock of his hair around your finger and sigh. His head is leaned back against the pillow, eyes closed, breathing slowly and quietly. You smirk to yourself at the sight of him laying there so peacefully--he's spent to the point of appearing fast asleep.
For a man of his age, his stamina is quite impressive--pinning you beneath him, driving into you at a pace that has you moaning his name over and over--but once he's out, he's out. It's rather cute, to be honest... yet you can't help but wonder if he drifts into sleep so easily because he can't stand to be awake.
You've found that when he isn't doing menial chores, Luke spends most of the day either staring at the sea, walking along the cliffs, or doing who knows what inside of his hut. Perhaps he's meditating, or sleeping, whatever an old Jedi does to pass the time when he so clearly hates his life--you almost feel sorry for him. Almost, as every attempt you make to connect with him is met with disdain or rejection. Usually both.
Still, the Temple Island isn't big enough for you two to ignore each other entirely, no matter how hard he might try. Your paths intercept too frequently, much to his chagrin and your delight. There's something strangely magnetic about him--beneath his gloomy exterior lies the remnants of his grace and discipline, the dignified power of the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order.
It's something you're determined to bring out again.
Luke stirs a bit, shifting in the bed slightly. With confirmation that he's indeed still awake, your hand wanders to his face, delicately stroking his beard.
"One more round?" you ask, voice sweeter than honey. You already know the answer--most likely a no--but it doesn't hurt to try.
He groans softly. "I don't know if I have it in me, starlight." Blue eyes squint open to meet yours, a smile growing on your lips, and he scowls. "What are you smiling about?"
"Nothing, I just think you're cute," you laugh, and he furrows his brow.
"Sweetheart, calling me cute is like calling the sky red."
"But it is red, during the sunset!"
"You know what I mean."
Knowing there's no reasoning with you, Luke relents to your will as you lean over to kiss him. He must think you're impossible--you're certain he does--but that's what keeps on drawing him back to you. At least, that's what stops him from turning you away.
Knocking on the door of Luke's hut, you wince. What were you thinking, coming to him like this, drenched in rain during the middle of the night? He's sure to think you're crazy, if he doesn't already. You shiver as the water continues to pour down, making your hair and clothes stick to your body like a wet tooka as it positively soaks you to the bone--you don't even know why you're here, if you're being honest with yourself.
Finally, the door opens. There stands Luke, your reluctant teacher, the man who's been avoiding your friendship for all this time, looking upon you with annoyance and confusion.
"Why are you here?" is all he says, eyes flicking across your wet form. You scratch the back of your neck self-consciously.
"I... I needed you," is all you manage to say in response.
"For what reason?"
"I don't know." You look down at your feet guiltily. "Something in the Force is telling me to be here."
He scoffs, clearly not believing you, but shakes his head and beckons you over. "Well, come in before you get sick," he grumbles, and you follow him inside as the door shuts behind you.
His hut is simple, not far from what you'd expect the living space of an old Jedi hermit to look like. Old sacred texts are scattered about, and so are his robes; he's currently dressed in simple nightclothes, ones that you briefly find yourself staring at.
No, no, you shouldn't look at him like that--especially not when he's standing right in front of you. But you could've sworn earlier that he looked at you the same way when you stood outside his door, wet clothes clinging to your body... You didn't mean to, well, approach him like that. But here you are, standing in his room and shivering before him as water dripped from you onto the floor.
Seemingly reading your mind, Luke finally breaks the silence--"You know, you should probably change out of those clothes and warm up."
"And change into what?" you ask, cheeks starting to burn.
A quick flash of embarrassment crosses his face, but he quickly conceals it. "I, um... something. This," he says, tossing his cloak to you. "I'll turn around."
You keep your eyes on him as he turns around and awkwardly goes to sit on his bed... and you swear you see him take a pillow into his lap. Slowly, you start peeling off your wet clothes; it's quite the thrill, being this exposed near him, something you'd never anticipate you'd do. If you were in your right mind, you wouldn't--but you aren't, and here you are.
After stripping out of the last of your clothes, you wring your hair out a bit and drape Luke's cloak around your shivering, nude form. It's quite warm, made of thick bantha wool, and it smells like him, although you manage to fight the temptation to bury your face in it. He's right in front of you, anyway.
"I-I'm done," you manage to say.
"Please, tell me... why are you really here?" Luke responds, not even turning around to look at you. "You're welcome to stay until the storm dies down, but if you're here to torment me, don't."
You grab onto the ends of the cloak, keeping them secure to preserve your modesty as you move to sit next to him. Startled a bit by your boldness, he finally looks over at you, and there's something in his eyes you can't quite recognize.
You take a deep breath and exhale. "Look, I don't know why I'm here. I don't know why it's storming, and frankly, I don't know why I'm naked, but here we are. But I think we've both noticed how we can't exactly stay away from each other, no matter how hard we try--how hard you try. I'm not here to hurt you, Luke, I only came to Ahch-To to find you, to see that you're still alive. And now that I know you, I..."
In a move that nearly knocks you off his bed, Luke slowly reaches out with his flesh hand to brush a wet strand of hair out of your face. "I know."
By some strange string of fate, or perhaps by the will of the Force itself, you find your lips meeting his. His beard is rough, scratchy. You wouldn't have it any other way. His lips, apprehensive at first, move against yours rather sloppily, either out of desperation or out of inexperience--although you wouldn't fault him for either. It's not like you're particularly experienced, you never quite had the time, and you aren't opposed to the two of you learning together. The student becomes the master, the master becomes the student...
"Master," you breathe out, "please."
Luke's lips trail from your lips to your jaw, and then to your neck, pressing plenty of ticklish kisses in his wake. His hands move to gently grip the side of your face and back of your neck, careful not to mess with the cloak. Part of you wonders if he ever will, if he's willing to go that far, perhaps even in this sitting. A Jedi would show restraint; yet he is one no longer.
In what can only be interpreted as him sensing your thoughts, Luke stops his advances to look at you, lustful eyes now showing with worry. "Are... are you sure you want this?"
You grab his mechanical hand--you quite like the feeling of the flesh hand on your neck--and bring it to the fastener of the cloak, not undoing it, but letting him know it's an option. "More than anything."
Luke's change in demeanor from grumpy to surprisingly gentle is intoxicating, shocking you in the best way possible--you knew this side of him was still there, you just knew it, and you're so glad you finally have confirmation of it. Peering over, however, you try to get a glimpse of the other confirmation of his affection that you seek...
Just as Luke begins to fiddle with unfastening the cloak concealing your body from him, you slip your hand between the two of you, first to carefully grip his thigh as you lean in to kiss him again, moving your hand further and further until-
"Stop," he interjects, grabbing your hand.
"I-I'm sorry, Master, I-"
His gaze softens, guiltily. "No, it's not you. I'm not ready for that--not yet." Flesh hand reaches up to cradle your face. "I want this to be about you. I want to make up for how cruel I was."
You bring the hand to your lips, kissing the palm, silently accepting his proposal to apologize. The Luke you first met on that cliff all those months ago is near unrecognizable--never before would you have expected him to ever apologize to you, let alone be this communicative with you. Well, communicative by Luke standards. From what you’ve heard of his past reputation as a Jedi, all those stories and legends about his vast accomplishments, he had always been quiet, guarded, only now amplified by his guilt in exile. But he’s trying, that much is clear to you.
“Do you want me to continue?” Luke finally says, breaking the silence with a rare show of humor. Smiling and nodding into his palm, you give it one last kiss, relinquishing your control over it.
Hands return to the fastener, and you feel your heartbeat increase as you're finally hit with the realization that this is going to happen. You have no reservations about it, you've fantasized about sleeping with him for quite some time now, but you must admit the actuality is a bit frightening--and absolutely thrilling.
You want this. Luke does, too, if the totally unsubtle tent in his pants has anything to say about it. But something tells you he's just as nervous as you are--perhaps he's worried about being out of practice, or, if he had previously pursued the path of celibacy, he's worried about having no practice at all. Either way, you don't mind, truly. All you want is him.
Finally, in one swift motion, the fastener is undone. Letting out a shaky breath, Luke begins to pull the fabric of the cloak from your shoulders, ever so slowly, exposing inch by inch of your bare skin to him. As the fabric pools at your waist, you shiver at the feeling of the cool air hitting your slightly damp skin. He notices, instinctively reaching out his hand to touch you--the sudden contact and warmth makes you jump.
"Sorry," Luke whispers, unable to look anywhere besides your face.
"Don't be... please."
Now is his chance to ravish you with his eyes, finally gazing upon--and practically devouring--the beauty that has been hidden from him for far too long.
"Stars, you're... you're incredible."
You blush, both out of pride and bashfulness, as Luke's eyes continue to trace your figure. He stares at you for quite some time, not daring to touch you aside from the hand he has gently caressing the flesh of your waist. It isn't until you grab said hand and move it to the swell of your breast that he finally gets the nerve to actually feel you.
Fingers trace around the soft skin of your nipple, coaxing the little bud into a hardened peak as Luke pinches it ever so slightly. He squeezes your breast, firmly but not painfully, and before you can even register what is happening, his mouth is on you. Beard hair tickles your skin as he plants an open-mouthed kiss at the center of your chest. Kissing, licking, and sucking, he marks his journey through the valley of your breasts by leaving your skin raw and marked--claiming you as his own.
You let out a high-pitched gasp as Luke's lips attach to your nipple, alternating between sucking and flicking with his tongue before switching to do the same to the other. He does this multiple times, only stopping when he leaves them visibly puffy and swollen, with you shuddering and moaning softly at the loss of his touch. As he had worked on you, your hands had found their way into his hair, carding your fingers through and tugging at it softly--he nearly bit you in response, and given the effect on him, you swore he almost liked what you were doing more than you liked what he was doing. Almost.
Your hands move from Luke's hair to cradle his face. He looks up at you nervously, waiting for your reassurance or your approval, hoping he hasn't done anything to upset you.
In a moment of boldness, you say, "Oh, I like that... there's just another place I think I'd like it even more."
Icy blue eyes widening, he nods slowly, taking in a deep breath as he prepares to obey your command. Gently pushing you back, he lowers you onto his bed, laying your head on his pillow--and he pauses.
"Are you sure you want this?"
Your first instinct is to pout, but you don't. He's very likely entirely new to this, and nervous about the fact, so the least you can do is have some grace. Reaching out for his hand, gently ghosting your fingertips over his, you tell him, "I want this. I want you."
With nothing more than a silent nod, Luke finally lifts the remainder of the cloak off you and pulls your thighs apart. His breath hitches at the sight of you--so tight, so wet, glistening in anticipation for him. Him.
Reading his emotions--you're becoming a lot better at that under his tutelage--you smile at him coyly through your eyelashes. "It's for you, Master. All for you."
You flutter and clench at the way Luke breathes out, groaning slightly. After a moment of just staring at you, piercing blue eyes locked onto your beautiful, beautiful core, he ducks his head to get closer. Whatever nervousness he had before has almost completely melted away, starting with light kisses to the inside of your thighs as he pries you open even more. You squirm ever so slightly beneath his touch, one that starts out hesitant but grows more and more eager, the rough hair of his beard nearly rubbing the skin of your thighs raw.
Luke pulls away, just for a moment, his voice deep and gravely. "Let me take care of you."
You shudder at the feeling of his breath on you. But you aren't prepared for what follows--the feather-light poke of his wet tongue, slowly licking a preliminary stripe from hole to clit as he slicks you with a combination of your own wetness and his spit. You had wondered, dreamed when this day would come, and now that it's here, you find yourself melting so readily at his every move.
Noticing the effect he has on you, Luke tentatively wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face so he can taste you more deeply. The new angle has you situated to where you could very well begin grinding on his face, and you have no doubts that he'd let you. This is what he wants--to be needed, to please, to do something, anything right. To have you spread out so beautifully before him is a miracle of the Force itself. He'll do his best to prove he deserves it, as much as he thinks he doesn't.
Alternating between gently probing you with his tongue and languidly exploring the contours of your folds, Luke's lips finally make their way to your clit, where he gently begins sucking. For a man who most likely has no idea what he's doing--although he would never admit it--he sure seems like he does.
Your hand instinctively makes its way to his hair again, albeit this time with far more urgency. Arching your back into him, you pull unapologetically on his greying locks, eliciting a deep groan from him.
An idea enters your mind.
"You like this, Master?" you moan, maneuvering to look at him working between your legs. His eyes flick up to meet yours. "You like finally being useful to someone?"
Your words seem to ignite a fire within him. Without even giving you a moment to process what's happening, Luke's mouth leaves your clit--drawing out an absolutely pathetic mewl from you--and he pulls your legs around his waist, lifting your hips off the bed. Using the Force, he swiftly pins your hands above your head, leaving you fully exposed and at his mercy.
"You think I'm finally useful, huh?" Luke practically growls, "Who are you to judge?"
You can feel his hardened cock brush against your sensitive core from beneath his nightclothes, and, desperate for friction to satiate your hunger, you try to rock your hips against his. But he won't have it--holding your legs still, he keeps you in place with an iron grip.
"Before I show you how useful I can be, you must learn patience. Now be still."
Luke's stronger mechanical hand--still gloved, which only adds to the allure--keeps a hold on you as his flesh hand moves to free himself from the confines of his pants. After a brief moment of fumbling where you pretend not to notice, he manages to pull down his waistband, and out it springs.
And it's... a lot. A lot more than you expected. Where you were eager to take him before, desperately aching for him to be inside you, you can't help but feel a bit nervous. Still, you can't take your eyes off him--large, thick, nice and veiny with a pink tip...
"Is this alright?" Luke asks, his voice low and husky, already starting to slowly drag it across your folds. Your body jerks slightly when the tip bumps into your still-swollen clit, but he's too busy lubricating himself with your wetness to notice. "Well?"
"Y-yes... I need you, Master, please," you practically beg.
Smirking to himself, he finally grants your request. Aligning himself with your entrance, he ever so slowly presses in, eyes screwing shut in the process as a low grunt escapes his throat.
"Maker, you're tight..."
You throw your head back and whine at the stretch. Luke is so much--almost too much--filling you in a way you never thought was possible. It stings slightly at first, but it's such a delicious feeling, one you never want to go another day without.
After giving you a moment to adjust, Luke's eyes meet yours--gently questioning, but still clouded by his need for you--and you signal for him to start moving. Slowly drawing himself back out, he starts a steady pace of deep thrusts, although they're a bit shaky at first. Amidst your ecstasy, you forgot that this may very well be his first sexual encounter--something he's doing a very good job of hiding.
In truth, it doesn't bother you at all. Luke sure keeps you on your toes--the more the night progresses, the more you learn so many seemingly conflicting things about him... and the more you realize you never really knew him at all. Perhaps no one did. He can be stubborn, and gentle, and firm, and vulnerable, a million different things all wrapped into one. And, slowly and surely, you'll peel back those layers to reveal who he truly is.
In the meantime, what Luke does show you is just how pent up he is--he isn't even fully out of his clothes, and he's already fully erect and fucking you into his mattress. The noises are borderline obscene, both the creaking of his bed and the squelching of where your bodies meet, with him loudly sliding in and out of you. While he was rather slow at first, he's since picked up the pace, snapping his hips against yours with a bit more fervor. If you hadn't known any better, you'd say he's just about as virile and libidinous as a juvenile fathier.
You moan and write beneath Luke, your hands still pinned above your head by the Force. After all his talk about its sacred rules and how one must respect and fear it, you truly never expected him to utilize it in such a way--but, knowing your Master, you doubt he cares. He looks down at you with those heavy eyes, his gaze filled with emotions you can't quite describe or even begin to understand. He's quiet, oh so quiet--you can't exactly say the same about yourself--that if it weren't for his borderline frantic rutting, you might not have been sure of his enjoyment.
Catching on to your concern, Luke reaches down with his flesh hand to reassuringly stroke your skin, gently tracing from your thigh to your hip, across your stomach, and all the way to the swell of your breast. Your nipples are still puffy and sore from his relentless sucking and pinching, skin covered in the evidence of where his beard had scratched you. He feels a bit guilty, having marked you up so thoroughly like this, yet he also has a strange sense of pride at how you let him. If things go your way, you'll let him again and again and again--until your hunger is satisfied, which you're sure it never will be.
For as much as Luke is thoroughly attracted to you, however, he can feel his hunger start to reach its peak. Whether it be through the Force or your own pleasure, you can sense this, too, and it only serves to bring you into the early stages of orgasm as well.
"M-Master, I-," you whine, not even able to finish your thought as Luke brings his hand back up to rub your clit. He may be stubborn, and grumpy, but he is by no means selfish, especially not as a lover. Like with all things, he's determined to do this right. And he does--each thrust of his hips and tight circle rubbed by his thumb pushes you closer and closer, until finally you're pushed off that cliff and engulfed by the force of your orgasm. Twitching and spasming, legs shaking, you cry out as it overtakes your senses so spectacularly.
Luke watches you, completely in shock that he actually managed to do this--although you knew he would. Feeling you clench around him so deliciously is enough to motivate him to follow suit. Speeding up his pace one last time, positively hammering into you, he chases his own orgasm sloppily, desperately. Perhaps he hasn't had one in a long time, hasn't even had the desire to touch himself, so having you here to offer him some much needed relief truly is a godsend.
You're too blissed out and trembling in the aftershocks of your own orgasm to notice the way his hips stutter, finally stilling as he spills thick ropes of his seed inside you. In that moment, neither of you really care about the consequences--you don't think anything could happen, anyway--nor do you even really pause to contemplate them.
Luke stands before you, panting and slightly dazed, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. Lowering your legs and pulling out--hot, white liquid spilling out of you as he does so--he adjusts his clothing and finally collapses beside you.
"That was, I..." you start, covering your face with your now-freed hands. "What are we now?"
Luke sighs. "We're something, I guess... something the Jedi of old wouldn't approve of." A glimpse at his old humor appears as he winks at you. "But they aren't here now, are they?"
You open your eyes to the sight of Luke asleep in your now shared bed. His hair is sprawled out on your pillow, long-lashed eyes still shut as he snores ever so lightly. The morning light bathes his sleeping face in a surprisingly lovely way, illuminating the soft, vulnerable side of an otherwise stoic and dignified Jedi master. His arm is still around you, mechanical hand resting at the small of your back--he still prefers to touch you intimately with his flesh hand, but by instinct, he'll use his cybernetic. You don't mind one bit, and he knows this. It brings him peace. Hence where he is now: entangled with you, beneath your covers, mind somewhere off in the realm of dreams.
"Oh, Skywalker..." you whisper, careful not to wake him. You can't tell whether you're talking to him, or really just talking to yourself. It isn't important. Taking a moment to pause, to think, you take a deep breath and say it--"...I love you."
Luke stirs, and you wince. Was it too soon? Is that not how he sees your relationship? He could wake up any minute and reject you and-
"Love you, too," he murmurs, not even opening his eyes, face still buried in his pillow.
Relief washes over you, but so does a strange new feeling... surprise? Excitement? Fear, even? No, no, it can't be anything bad... So you decide to accept it for what it is: something you can't explain, yet something that brings so much hope, so much meaning to your life. And, for the first time in a long time, you're happy--and he is, too.
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pomplalamoose · 5 months
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Ooohhh how about different eras of luke (ROTJ is my fav if doing one is easier) and maybe some modern dilf!luke 👀 reacting to you laying your head on his shoulder when you’re tired or have a headache pre-relationship?
Anonnn, you don't understand, I'm obsessed with this ask. I just HAD to do every single Luke era plus the Dilf AU as the cherry on top because it's been so long since I last wrote something wholesome😩
also it reminds me of the posts I used to do when I first started writing and ngl I'm feeling a little nostalgic
• sweet ANH Luke with his open smile and honest eyes is so easy to approach and befriend, resting your head on his shoulder comes almost naturally
• though unbeknownst to you he'd immediately be on the brink to loose his mind
• already he tends to be a little jittery with nerves whenever you randomly appear in the same room he is in
• even more so now that he's finally admitted his major crush on you to himself
• so just imagine his excitement the moment you decide to sit next to him
• as soon as your head touches his shoulder he goes bright red and doesn't dare to move in fear of accidentally shooing you away, his heart beating wildly in his chest
• for a slight moment he forgets how to breathe, though it's not like he minds
• this is the best day of his life
• not only does he finally get to feel the warmth of having you so close by his side, but also your soft hair aginst his cheek if he dares to tilt his head just a little bit
• when eventually he manages to somewhat normalize his breathing, his thoughts will start to wander
• he's SO proud you're clearly comfortable and feeling safe with him
• but should he strike up a conversation? Ask how you're doing? If everything's okay?
• maybe he could make you laugh
• your hands look so soft; what if he were to reach out and just take them in his?
• would you mind?
• he's not sure, his aren't as pretty and smooth as yours
• you smell very nice
• wouldn't your current position make you look like a couple to an outsider passing by?
• what if, and he feels very bold just considering, but, what if you...like him?
• quickly enough he has a very hard time remaining calm
• and how could he? He needs to tell someone about this RIGHT NOW
• good luck trying to catch ESB Luke sitting still for even once
• though should you be as lucky to catch him during a moment of rest and manage to lean on him, he'll feel similarly as ANH Luke; excited, a little nervous even, though not as much as his younger self would have been
• still he has to fight off the blush rising into his cheeks and will absolutely deny ever changing colors should someone (especially Leia, Han or even R2) point it out
• at the same time he wishes for as many as possible to witness this very monumental moment, hoping everyone will see that you're leaning on HIS shoulder
• HIS!
• yeah that's right! In your face, (add in name of random rebellion member that also takes an interest in you)!!!
• if he's feeling extra bold, he may use the chance to put an arm around your shoulder
• but very carefully so; he's afraid to overstep any of your boundaries
• after all he's not sure if you'd even like to be held
• there's only one problem: how is he supposed to do anything now?
• he has places to be, things to do, an Empire to fight!
• he's getting kind of warm too
• more than that actually
• Force, are you hiding a heater under all of your layers of clothing?
• also he just remembered; isn't there a meeting he has to attend?
• shouldn't he be working to improve his x-wing?
• he'll check on you out of the corner of his eye, trying to get a feeling for how long you plan to stay like this
• he needs to come up with a way to notify the others of his delay
• because there's no way he's moving even a single muscle
• he's not leaving you behind
• he simply can't!
• not when he was just chosen as your designated spot to rest your pretty but, admittedly, very heavy head
• but not to worry, of course he can handle it!
• he'll be here as long as you need him to be
• RotJ and post RotJ Luke is hard to keep tabs on and thus hard to find
• all you can hope for is to encounter him by pure chance, as he seems to simply have evaporated whenever you wander around searching for him
• though despite his withdrawn ways he's always welcoming and inviting should you happen upon him
• he, above anyone else, understands the importance of rest during a busy day
• he smiles mildly to himself as soon as you settle down and scoot close enough for your arms to touch
• the emotions you are unconsciously emitting, may it be nervousness, excitement or shyness, amuse him a great deal and he's keen to see whether you'll overcome them this time or not
• I don't think he'd tell you outright that he enjoys your presence, that it tends to calm him down and to ease his mind, until much later
• but despite what he is or isn't saying he can't help but feel a little warm inside whenever you come across him during the day
• despite that he can never not worry at least a little bit about your well-being and immediately feels the need to check in on you either with words or a gentle probe with the Force to make sure you're okay
• if he has the time to stay with you for a while he asks if you'd like to lay down
• see, he can shuffle to the side a little and then you could rest your head on his thigh instead of on his shoulder
• wouldn't that be more comfortable?
• he doesn't have a blanket in case you're cold, but maybe you could use his cloak?
• it's not the best, maybe a little rough and still a little dirty from his last trip as he didn't have the time to wash it yet, but it does a good job of keeping a person warm
• he doesn't show how happy he is should you follow his invite and agree to rest beside him, though maybe Leia would notice
• and possibly so would you by how he'd start to absentmindedly stroke your head and play with your hair whenever others are around to keep him properly distracted
• I think Dilf!Luke's reaction would really depend on the current situation/ on how far your relationship has already developed at that point
• here it's important to note though that he'd never tell you off or send you away for initiating contact, not even after just recently getting to know you
• yes he's standoffish and withdrawn, cold in demeanor, seemingly displeased with your presence in his house
• but when it comes down to it he is kind, always has been, even if he hides it away to protect himself
• his behavior towards you is nothing personal; the emotions you call forth are his to deal with
• he may try to at first but ultimately knows deep down that he can't hold you accountable for how his past still troubles him
• he's a father, deeply caring in nature
• no matter what, he could never bring himself to deny anyone his child's age comfort
• though he might be a little confused about why you chose him, of all people, to rest your head on
• after all it's not like he's been going out of his way to be peculiarly inviting or nice - quite the contrary actually
• he'll remain very still for the duration of your vicinity, involuntarily stiffening not only out of surprise but because it's been so long that anyone outside of his immediate family initiated intimacy
• he's so touch starved, so used to rarely feeling a person's warmth, that your simple act catches him off guard
• suddenly he has no idea what to do, how to continue on after
• for your own good and his child's sake he wants to keep you at an arm's length and yet...
• if he wasn't enamored with you before, he is so now
• he thinks back to those moments of doubt and insecurity frequently
• but where they once haunted him, they now serve as a reminder for how far he's come and what he was able to finally leave behind
• he's proud of himself too, yes, but most of all to call you his
• every little touch of yours, and may it be one as innocent as laying your head on his shoulder, fills him with joy
• never, in a thousand years, would he once have believed to be in a position to reciprocate your gentle displays of trust and affection
• but now that he can, now that everything feels a little less like a dream, it's all he wants to do
• (and he does)
• (forehead kisses are his favorite way to, he can't help it)
• (not when you placed yourself so conveniently)
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sonofthedunes · 3 months
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Star Wars (2020) #50 variant cover by David López
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kocho-catt · 7 months
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please i NEED more luke danes x reader fics
its like looking for water in the sahara
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rubixcuby · 8 months
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I just KNOW this skit was directed towards us monsters
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eveningserenityyy · 10 months
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Someone needs to tell me that I can’t just keep looking at pictures of mark hamill on Pinterest when I’m bored just because he’s pretty
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forcemeanakin · 11 months
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𝗙𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 ('𝘀 𝗱𝗮𝗱) - 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟯
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•WARNINGS: SMUT. Age gap !!! Infidelity kink !!! (you’ve been warned, so if you do not agree pls leave because I’ll delete any hateful comments about this) Actual cheating. Dirty talk, teasing and sex in a public space, voyeurism, praising kink, bit of degrading, handjob (m and f receiving), oral sex (f receiving). Mentions of an unhappy relationship/divorce/troubled marriage.
Pairing: dilf!Anakin Skywalker x female!reader.
Series Summary: Luke takes you home for Life’s Day. On the edge of giving up on you two, Skywalker manages to light up a fire inside of you again. Problem is… wrong Skywalker.
Part One - Part Two
Part Three Summary: How could Mr. Skywalker resist such a pretty little thing like yourself when you come into his workshop with dessert?
Word count: 4.1 K.
A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao. 
Thank you so much for the comments in my last post! Your excitement makes me want to write even more :) seriously thank you! And I'm sorry if I forgot to tag someone, pls let me know if I missed you!
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“You missed dessert.”
It took Anakin a second to realize that he wasn’t delusional, that your voice wasn’t a product of his imagination.
You were here, in his workshop. 
With actual pie.
“Shouldn't you be upstairs, Y/n? It 's pretty late.” Anakin spoke without disconnecting his attention from the welding happening in his project.
You delayed your response, walking towards him and placing the plate on the counter, sliding it to him. Elbows on the surface, you supported your head on your knuckles, widening your eyes in innocence in case he indulged in looking up. 
“I could ask that as well.” You got closer, taking a spot at his left side to admire the precision in which he was attaching cables. “Life Day's morning is tomorrow, we should be up pretty early. We’re also going skating.”
Anakin scrunched his face like he had forgotten about it and he was not eagerly expecting the trip.
“You can’t not go, it’s our last day here.” You murmured with a velvety voice, sending goosebumps through his spine. 
“I’ve seen that fucking lake enough for a lifetime. I’m sure I won’t miss much.” He stuck his tongue out, inching his head forward to appreciate his manual work better.
“You’ll miss me.”
Anakin, having everything on the line, was too careful not to slip and fall. Because of that, your grand gestures and obvious advances were deflected by him every single time. Except that one time he did indulge. That one time where you weren’t even trying and he, by his own doing, fell into temptation. Only when commands a situation, or when he thinks he is, he lets himself free fall into his instincts.
“I’ll miss you.” You added, playing with the little metal panel that seemed the right size to fit the droid part he was fixing. 
“I don’t think you miss me when you have Luke’s tongue down your throat.”
He bit the words, gripping the tool with more force in between his fingers, clearly upset. You hid a playful smirk.
“That’s when I miss you the most.” You whispered, grazing his ear shell with your lips, caressing the pull-up sleeve from his shirt.
He tensed at the ministration, blinking fast to return to his previous state of concentration, “To all of this, where’s your boyfriend? Doesn’t he have a promise to fulfill?”
Honestly, it was your fault for trusting Luke’s empty words. Again. But you were enjoying Anakin’s visible jealousy.
“Luke wanted to go straight to sleep… said he was stuffed from dinner. Not a lot of energy to do anything.” You briefly whined with a voice so low, Anakin could barely hear you with the noise of the machine.
So he stopped, pushing himself back onto his chair so he could look up to you without obstacles. His chair was set just a few inches lower to work better. Anakin’s eyes followed your figure from head to toe, casually lingering on the bit of skin that showed from the slit of your attire. Just like at the dinner table, he was struggling and was unsure that he would be able to escape harmlessly this time.
“I’m kind of jealous to be honest.” You mumbled, staring at the mess of parts, walking until you were in between him and the counter. Trapped in between his spreading legs, your chest was right on his eye line and you hadn’t changed your dress. “I wish I was stuffed as well.”
Gulping harshly, Anakin built up the strength to stare at your intense gaze, basically condemning himself. Because the minute he saw the hungry spark shining from them, he knew there wasn’t a single bone in him that would deny you if you asked for him again. 
His strong, yet shy hand, climbed up your leg like a moth to a flame until he was able to grasp the fat of your thigh. Feeling your softness against his palm had him on the edge of staining his pants. With a little pull from his part, it took you mere seconds to obey his silent command and sit on his lap. Anakin’s curious hand continued to brush your bare leg, rejoicing in the way your breath would accelerate when his hand went up and how you bit your lip whenever it came down. 
It also didn’t help that his other arm was wrapped around your waist, thumb miming the motion of his hand, but on your hip, trapping you in his embrace. Expectant of what would be his next move, you shyly waited for whenever he would peel his eyes from your slit and reciprocate the attention, this time on your face. 
On your lips. 
Like he was reading your mind, Anakin’s eyes slowly moved up your curves until he met your needy orbs, noses softly grazing each other at the proximity. Breath getting out of control at the shift of energy, warmth expanding all over your skin and clit throbbing in anticipation. You deviated your eyes momentarily to sneak a peek of the deliciously rich piece of pie laying on the table and he benefited from the newly acquired angle to caress your throat with his lips.
“Just a taste?” You murmured, looking at him through your eyelashes, intentionally inching closer to brush his lips with yours.
Was he going to do it? Take the next step?
Would he dare?
Would you dare?
Surpringsily, Anakin nodded swiftly, leaning into the intoxicating pull of your mouth. “Just a taste.”
Anakin’s lips tasted so much better the second time around, it tasted like victory. And you made it a personal goal of yours to show him how grateful you were that he finally caved in. Wasting no time, in case he changed his mind, your hands found their home in Anakin’s curls, the silky feeling of them a new aphrodisiac to you and apparently to him, by the way he was growling at your clasp.
His sneaky tongue barely asked for permission when it was already intruding into your mouth, licking everything on its way. Giving up on trying to take the lead, you surrendered to his rough pace and enjoyed the delicious sensation of his warm, wet tongue against your lips. Anakin would take advantage of your dumb state and hanging mouth to suck however he pleased, smirking because the only thing your mind could process was imitate his dirty moves. Until he bit your bottom lip, making sure your brain wasn’t already melted before he could even start ruining you.  
When you pulled his hair, only because he had taken the party downstairs and was violently grabbing your ass, it was like you had awakened a beast. Out of nowhere, Anakin stood up, holding you by your thighs and placing you on the surface of his tool table. His shirt’s buttons were discarded early in the makeout session, granting you the space necessary to roam your palms all over his strong pecs and firm shoulder blades. And when you tried to wrap your legs around his waist, hinting right where you wanted him, he clasped his fists around your ankles, spreading you open without breaking the liplock. He was even more aggressive with the leverage his height gave him.
“Just a taste…” He grunted again, lifting up the skirt of your dress until it was tangled enough to give him a good view of your thong. He clicked his tongue at the sight of your spicy choice of underwear. “Almost like you had planned it all along.”
Shamelessly, so outrageously shameless, you drifted your legs further apart, making him snicker. 
“Well, did you?” He wandered, sliding your damped panties down your legs.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since yesterday.” You breathed out, shivering at the breeze fanning your burning core. “I’ve never wanted something so bad.” Urged eyes glued directly to Anakin’s groin. 
Anakin grinned a triumphant smile. That could’ve easily been a lie, but he doubted it. He recognized a brat when he saw one. Holding your foot like it was a delicate piece of glass, Anakin set the nibbling starting point right on your ankle and followed a beeline straight to your weeping cunt. His hot breath made you shiver in anticipation, whimpering to show off your desperation in case this would reach his sensible side.
“When was the last time you had an orgasm before me, baby? Without doing it yourself?” He breathed, roaming his hands up your legs, the contact so rough and intimate  at the same time.
You hated that question, it embarrassed you. 
“Mmm… Uhh-” You thought out loud, mind going blank as Anakin’s smooches went higher up. “F-four months?” You hissed.
“You’ve been dating Luke for three.” He did the math in his head. 
Oh.
Your face turning in shame had his eyes widening.
It would be a lie if Anakin said that he wasn’t mad at his son for dragging the Skywalker name in the mud. For keeping such a needy thing like yourself restricted from gratification. With how sexual you were, four months were an eternity. Nonetheless, Anakin was a fixer and you were his next project.
“Desperate little thing, aren’t you? This slutty pussy can’t wait to have something inside of it. Anything.” Anakin mocked you, testing your sanity as he delayed contact with your core by redirecting his foreplay into the inner side of your thighs.
“That’s not true.” You fought with a trembling voice, observing how Anakin got closer and closer to delivering exactly what you wanted. “I only want you, d-”
The forbidden word. You almost spilled it.
“-sir.” You corrected in time, catching Anakin’s mocking glint. “Only you, please.”
Anakin’s face twisted in pleasure when his finger dived inside you, giving him a warm welcome, impossibly slick. You hugged his pumping digit tightly, getting even wetter at this fascinated expression. Anakin hadn’t felt such a lubricated canal in so long, his head almost exploded at the million possibilities with such an easy pussy: His cock would slide right in, be suffocated by your clenching walls just like his finger was... 
That had him dropping on his knees, starting to eat you out like he was starved. Just like you predicted. Nose deep, no hesitation to blow your slobbering cunt with abandon, moaning right on your core when he had the very first taste of your flavor. So sweet. Just like he predicted.
“Oh- oh!” You whimpered at the first clean lick he gave you, quivering like a virgin because it had been too long since someone showed you love there. 
Anakin’s tongue had the knowledge and patience none of the guys your age had. Every motion was so passionately delivered, so intentional. No rush, no fast lapping to get you off quickly. Anakin knew exactly what would have you shaking with pleasure and wasn’t scared to spend his time getting to know every hidden, sticky spot. In fact, it seemed like he enjoyed taking his sweet time with his face buried in your exposed core. 
It was the hottest shit you’d ever seen.
You were riled up by the precise technique with which he knew exactly how to pleasure your opening, sucking on your lips like they were the meal and not a measly pit stop. But what had you speechless, just at a loss of words, was the way he didn’t hesitate to dip his face into your heat with fervor. As he planted open mouth kisses to your slit, face fully covered by your juices, he only pulled back to spit on top of your clit and play with the liquid slob on top of your bundle of nerves. 
No grimaces, no disgust faces, just utter fascination by your reactions and your pussy.
“Such a sweet thing.” Anakin whispered, flattening his tongue and lapping over your mound. “Careful, I might not let you leave.”
Please don’t. You replied inside your head.
Anakin’s sounds of approval and delight made this whole experience even more sinful. Something about the idea of him enjoying cheating on his wife touched a nerve inside of you, something so wild and dangerous: You had another woman’s man in between your legs and he was enjoying being of service to you. You arched your back at the naughty thought, something Anakin didn’t appreciate because it moved you from the angle he had specifically situated you on; he had already discovered the spot that had your toes curling.
The power rush combined with Anakin's attention to your clit had a knot forming on your abdomen. Supporting yourself on your elbows, you looked down at Anakin’s work, not wanting to miss the scenario in front of you, in case you climaxed earlier than anticipated. But what you saw only pushed you closer to said ending. Anakin was playing with your clit like a cat with a toy, giving rapid licks that had your head spinning, while staggering eager sucks onto your nub. Anakin’s lips enveloped your clit with such care, only to roughly slurped on it, only backing down until he heard you whining. Or moaning his name. Whichever came first. 
“Anakin-” You bravely attempted to cry his name, unsure of his reaction. 
Anakin took the opportunity to analyze your flustered image, his gaze inevitably drawn to your falling cleavage, given that he was pulling down on the fabric by shouldering your legs. He could see the top of your boobs spilling from your undergarments and he dreamed of the looks of them. How perky they would be, how firm and squeezable they must be. Fantasizing about your young tits had him rolling his hips against the wooden leg of the table.
If Anakin locking your legs around his shoulders to dig deeper into your cunt wasn’t enough to have you convulsing, his tongue breaching into you and maneuvering it like it was actually fucking you, did.
“Anakin, I’m close- Oh,” You could barely hold yourself, deciding to lean limp against the hard surface, waiting for Anakin to sweep you off your feet with an outstanding orgasm. 
“That’s right, you’re gonna come on my tongue. How does that feel?” Anakin pushed, squeezing your ass and bringing your core over to him to devour. Like the certified slut you were, you rocked your hips against his face, relishing on the massage his nose inflicted on your most sensitive part. “Fucking your boyfriend’s dad face. This has to be a world record.”
Anakin stared at you over your mound, drinking the heavenly sight of your face contorting in ecstasy by his doing. Such a pretty, young thing, so slick and wet… coming undone by his tongue. And his tongue only. 
“Such a slut… my slut.” He degraded you with darkened eyes, amazed at how those words only had you trembling harder. “Only wanting to come on my tongue, by my cock. Isn’t that right?”
You nodded, taking the little spaces he gave you in between words to fight off the pending peak; you didn’t want this to be over. You needed more from him, you needed everything. 
“Y-yes!” You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for the familiar wave of satisfaction. 
“Yes, what?” Anakin teased.
Would you dare?
“Yes, daddy!” You screamed when your climax toppled you over. 
Anakin had the minimal kindness of not rubbing your choice of words on your face as you came over his fingers, dripping not only on his hand, but his table. This climax in particular had you weak; the aftershocks prolonged for more than you were used to and legs trembled as if you had just worked out. It could have been because you hadn’t had one in so long, or maybe because of his skillful tongue. Probably a combination of both. But truth be told, it was the best orgasm of your life. 
Even with dizzy eyes you could spot the bulge twitching inside his fitted pants. He had promised you just a little taste, but it was so unfair to leave him like that. Right?
Right?
Boosting yourself up, you directed your hand straight to his waistband, actively searching to fish his cock. 
“What are you doing?” Anakin questioned but did little to no effort to stop your wandering touch. 
You didn’t give an answer, instead lips pouted with a fixed stare, you let your actions speak for you. After unbuckling his belt, you loosened his pants, being faced with the opportunity of a lifetime. Anakin sucked his breath in when he saw your nails dipping under the elastic of his underwear, shaky exhales at the expectation of contact. You were unaware of it, you wouldn’t even believe it, but it had been a while for him too. Besides his own hand, he hadn’t known the touch of someone else in so long and Padmé didn’t even do the trick by now. 
So when Anakin saw your widened eyes as you scope up his erection from its confinements, he felt the same rush he used to savor with other conquests whenever Padmé and he were on a on-and-off break. But this was better, so much more electric. Your surprised gasp at his big cock elevated his ego to new highs. It just confirmed what he already knew: that you’ve dealing with stupid boys, when you deserved a real man. 
And Anakin was exactly that. 
His eagerness pushed you to envelope your hand around his shaft with more confidence, your fingers struggling to meet around it because of the delicious girth. Anakin let go as soon as he felt you tugging his length, crumbling on your shoulder, barely supporting himself on the edge of the table at each side of your hips. Being the big man he was, you didn’t expect Anakin to be so vocal during sex, but fuck were you wrong. Whimpers started to spill from his lips, landing right on your ear. It was the most exquisite sound you’ve heard. 
It was just so hot to have him completely surrender to you, to the will of your hand. Gladly, you pumped harder and faster, expecting to hear more of his inviting sounds. Having the upper hand encouraged you to try and lead the situation, turning his head by his chin with two fingers, sucking in his bottom lip as a first move before properly kissing him. Jacking him off while he still had his pants on, had you squeezing your thighs, the sight turning on a switch for you.
He followed your initiative and dipped his very own fingers to take care of you again. He would do it as many times as you needed, just for his own amusement. Closing his eyes, he sighed in content when his digits were fully installed inside of your warm walls. 
“That’s it, that’s the stuff.” He smiled into the words, making you cry even louder at the intrusion. He couldn’t stop praising you, he was too fascinated by you. “Always so wet for me. Fuck, yes. So wet and slick, ready to let me in. I adore this young pussy.”
You sobbed at the last words he pronounced, Anakin cracking a wicked grin. He was mesmerized by how unfiltered and vulgar your dark side turned out to be. Finally a worthy opponent.
Anakin and you worked on each other until you were both grazing the edge: sloppily kissing, moaning on each other's mouths and exchanging the same air by just how close you were. The scene replicated the rush and eagerness of a young couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other’s pants. It was so intimate, yet distant at the same time.
Because he wasn’t technically fucking you his conscience weighted a bit less. Using that logic, Anakin found comfort that, as long as you two kept your shenanigans at hand stuff, there was no reason why he should be called a cheater. It was two people exchanging favors.
It was him shaking you off his system.
“A-Anakin, you make me feel so good. Please.” You squealed when he circled around your clit with his thumb as his thick fingers worked in and out of you. 
“Next time you touch yourself, you’ll think of these fingers, you’ll think of me.” Anakin grunted, flicking your nub without care. He relished on the little scream you let out.
Anakin felt the exciting clench when he inserted his third finger in, your contorted face tattling you anyway. That was good news, because he was close too. It was hard for him not to when you were looking like sin itself with your dress discarded at waist level, cheeks flushed and mouth hung open, begging to be fucked by his tongue. 
Anakin wanted to grip you, rip you apart, crush you under the weight of his desire. He needed to have all of you in order to move on, so the next half of his life was spent dreaming about the feeling of you, as an alternative of a lifetime simply wandering. And as much as he wanted to extend this moment forever, your constant spasms were threat enough to let him know release was right around the corner.
Gushing on him again, you felt your body going limp. Smiling to the ceiling, you thought about how Anakin had ended your miserable drought with two winning orgasms. It was so intense, you were actually ashamed of how many unholy sounds you squealed but it didn’t make sense why a simple hand job would feel so good.
Flipping onto your stomach at the speed light, Anakin needily pulled up the bottom of the dress until your ass was bare and exposed for him to fondle as he pleased, panting frantically. You didn’t even felt ashamed when he split you open; you offered yourself to him even more and he fucking loved it.
He fucking loved how shameless you were, how excited for his attention you got. A breath of fresh air, that was you. 
But right when Anakin was about to give into his darkest desires, right about to cross the line between wrong and utterly wrong, gripping the edges of the table while trembling as his cock sat an inch away from your entrance…
Just one little push and he would taste heaven.
Just one little thrust and he would know glory in the purest form. 
The debate raged inside of him, a bead of sweat falling from his temple. He was only torn away from his mental debate when your impatient orbs peep from over your shoulder. 
“Please.” You whined, shaking your ass to entice him. “P-please do it, daddy. I’m begging, I really am.” 
Knees weak, Anakin was about to cave.
Just one swing of his hips. Just one tiny buck-
Another whine came out of you, but a disappointing one, this time provoked by Anakin jacking himself off until he was covering your heart-shaped cheeks with the viscous liquid you desperately wanted to swallow. Holding your jaw so you would make eye contact with him, Anakin put two cum-covered fingers in front of you, almost spurting a second time when your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the taste. His jizz was as good as dessert, for fuck’s sake.
But things come to an end.
“This can’t ever be known.” Anakin finally picked himself up from behind you, buttoning his pants as he shook his head, clearing his throat. It felt like he was talking to himself,  “This- uhm, this never happened. Never happened...”
“But it did. And I liked it.” Not fixing your dress so he would be greeted by your perky nipples, you turned to face him. “In fact, I loved it. I kinda want more.” You tilted your head, eyeing his groin without a filter. “Don’t you want more, daddy?” You had found a weak link and Anakin was making absolutely no effort to hide the effects of the word on him. 
Of course he wanted more. He wanted everything. Especially when you were staring at him with those eyes, and that hair, and those tits- God, those firm, perky tits were getting to him.
The phone he had installed for inner communication inside the house rang. It was Padmé calling him to sleep, the noise from his workshop disturbing her dreams. A nerve-wracking feeling took over you as soon as the phone call ended, you evidently awaiting for his next statement. 
He would either stay or leave. As simply as that. 
In or out?
When Anakin took one bite of the pie as he fixed his eyes on you, you smirked as a mirror of his own smile. 
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cherrypie-eyed · 2 months
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lorelai gilmore fumbled so bad i could’ve treated him so much better
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he looks so breedable
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se-agapo-skywalker · 4 months
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Silence at the Cliffs of Dawn
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Celebrating one year of the blog 🥳
CW: age gap (dilf!Luke Skywalker), finger (cybernetic) sucking, oral sex (f! and m! receiving; blowjob/face sitting/69ing)
WC: 3.5k
"...All I ever do is make myself unlikable. You know that," Luke says, "Why do you even bother staying?"
The two of you are laying down in his bed, pressed together tightly to avoid accidentally pushing the other off the already small space--how you managed to convince Luke to let you sleep with him, you have no idea... Of course, you did sleep with him. Your current state of undress is evidence of that; in a move showcasing a rare display of his kindness, he allowed you to hog the majority of the blanket while he chose to rely on the warmth of his nightclothes.
Propping your head up on the pillow, you look at Luke and frown.
"I don't think you do it on purpose... for the most part, anyway," you tease. He raises an unamused eyebrow at you, before shaking his head and letting out a quiet almost-laugh.
"I can't even tell anymore. I guess I've really grown into it."
You fall silent for a moment. "What were you like? Before... When you were a Jedi?"
More silence. The rain outside is just starting to clear up, you notice, but it's still dark out. Luke's features are too dim to fully discern, but even then, you can notice the pain in his eyes... the conflict.
Strangely enough, he laughs. An actual laugh.
"...I looked a lot nicer. Dignified, you know? Not like some hobo hermit living in the middle of nowhere." He sighs. "In all seriousness, though... things were different. I can barely even recognize who I am now, nor can I the man I was before."
"Let me guess..." you smile, trying to picture a younger version of the greying man before you. You've seen the old propaganda posters--shockingly handsome ones, portraying him as the gorgeous golden boy of the Rebellion. "Plenty of admirers? Paramours, even?"
Luke shakes his head with something akin to embarrassment. "People certainly tried, but... that life wasn't for me."
Intrigued, you decide to press even further. "Well, what was? The daring pilot with a life full of adventure, or the wise, contemplative Jedi who liberated entire planets with the wave of his hand?"
"I did my fair share of both, but the truth is far more complicated than that. For a while, I did chase the feeling of being a hero..." His gaze grows distant. Regretful. "But it was all in vain. The people you save get killed. The things you build get destroyed. This galaxy, everything in it, it's all... temporary."
You sit up, blanket sliding off your nude form slightly and catching Luke's attention; as much as he tries to hide it, he can't help the way you affect him. For a moment, you smirk, but with the better view of his face you can see just how tormented he is.
"I mean, the galaxy isn't all that bad... it brought us together, right?"
"But it took so much in the process," Luke mutters in response.
"I-"
"Don't tell me it was worth it. It wasn't."
He moves over onto his back and covers his face with his left hand--hiding tears, no doubt. Tears he isn't yet ready to let you see.
"...The rain is over. You can leave if you wish."
"I'm not leaving," you say, maneuvering yourself over him. Luke peeks up at you through his fingers before you gently grab his hand and move it away from his face. "Not when you need me."
He exhales slowly, sadly, but he makes no move to shove you off him. With your other hand, you brush away the tears pricking the corners of his eyes.
"Let me take care of you, alright?"
Just as Luke instinctively opens his mouth to protest, he immediately concedes, settling back into the pillow. He's old, and he's tired, what use is it trying to fight you off? Besides, he wants this--needs it, he discovered at the onset of the rain--so the last thing he's going to do is stop you.
The room is silent, save for the sound of baited breath, as you finally lean over to kiss him. Using your free hand to stroke the fringe out of his eyes, other hand still holding his, you kiss the lines of his forehead, the bridge of his crooked nose, and finally his lips.
Luke doesn't think he's anything special; you think he's extraordinary. Not for being the hero of your dreams, but for being the man he truly is--as broken and as vulnerable as he may be, he's yours. And that's enough.
Despite the few times you've kissed him, you both take to it like a pikobi to water. You take the lead; his are quite shy, but by the time your lips meet, Luke noticeably relaxes beneath your touch.
His mechanical hand moves to your bare back, tracing the shape of your spine as you arch over him, the texture of the leather glove making you shiver. It moves from your back to your waist, slowly climbing toward your chest, where he graces your nipple with a firm pinch--not hard enough to hurt you, but enough to show his desire. Yes, Luke Skywalker desires you.
Although still sleeping, you can feel the stirrings beneath you as his arousal grows. You're fully awake, restless, hungry. Luke, on the other hand, needs a bit more time, time you're more than willing to give--you know the prize will be worth it.
"Master..." you purr, wiggling your hips slightly as he twitches at the sound of the nickname. "You've seen me. I haven't seen you yet."
"I-I'm nothing worth looking at..."
"You are to me."
Luke moves his cybernetic from the valley of your chest to cradle your face. You silently kiss the palm of his hand, mechanical fingers flexing within the leather, before taking the material between your teeth to pull it off.
"Wait-"
The leather doesn't catch on the metal; instead, it slips off like a raindrop sliding down the stone roof. Luke makes no move to halt its movement. The mechanical fingers are revealed to you, one by one, grey metal glinting in the slivers of moonlight streaming through the window.
"Beautiful..." you whisper, barely loud enough to be audible. But Luke hears you; if he were to respond, he's certain he'd just about cry.
Being linked to his nervous system, he has enough "feeling" in his cybernetic to control its movements and sense external stimuli, but without the synthskin, he can't truly feel. Hence why he barely uses it to touch you, let alone in a sexual context. All you have to do is show him he can.
In a swift motion you barely even stop to ponder, your tongue comes out to explore the metalwork; a metallic flavor--no surprise to you--accompanies the cold, and Luke refrains from flexing his fingers in your mouth.
Stars, he can't even register what you're doing, let alone why you're doing it. He watches you, blue eyes full blown to near-blackness as you suck on his fingers like they were a cock. Speaking of which, his throbs uncomfortably in the confines of his pants. Your movements in his lap feel incredible. Peeking down to look at your bare pussy grinding on him is enough to make him come... well, almost.
You, however, are not a fan of the cloth boundary between you; sure, it adds extra friction, but it's nowhere near as electric of a sensation as skin against skin. You've seen Luke's face, and his flesh hand, and his cock, but that's as far as you've gotten. Is he insecure about being old? It's not a problem to you, and he knows this, but you doubt he's fully internalized it. Being a (former) Jedi Master, you're sure he's covered in scars from the countless battles he's fought in... scars on his arms, his chest, his thighs-
"Y-yes," Luke pants out, seemingly reading your thoughts. "You can..." He can't even finish his sentence, flesh hand moving to grab your free hand and bring it to his clothes.
"Are you sure, Master?"
"Just do it already."
Delicately pulling his fingers out of your mouth, a thin line of spit connecting them to your lips, you pin Luke's right arm over his head, just like he did to yours earlier that night. He looks up at you with a mixture of surprise and arousal, a small smile of disbelief forming on his lips. You have plans--and you can't wait to show him.
The material of his sleep shirt is a rough wool of some kind, the cut of it a simple wrap-tunic similar to his Jedi robes. It gives you easy access to his chest; considering just how much Luke likes yours, you believe it's your turn to enjoy his. Ghosting your fingertips beneath the fabric, he shivers at your touch, and you raise an eyebrow at the texture you discover. Coarse, fuzzy, thick--you hadn't expected him to be just as hairy on his chest as he is on his face, but stars, you aren't complaining.
Luke is just about as red as a gundark by the time you pull his sleep shirt open. Of course, his embarrassment is no match for his stubbornness, which quickly bubbles up again to hide his discomfort. Typical Luke.
"Sure took you long enough."
"It did."
"Now what?"
"You'll see..."
Placing both of your palms flat on his chest, you lean over to kiss him once more; your mouth meets his, and then his neck, where you brand it with a startlingly red hickey. At the same time, you're scratching down his torso and tugging at the greying hairs.
Beneath the layer of fur is a web of tendril-like scars, stretching across his body like lightning. You can't help but wonder what dramatic battle between Jedi and Sith must have caused them... but stars, they're beautiful. You're determined to show him this.
Luke groans against your lips--if he had it his way, stars, he'd flip you over and pound you senseless. But no, he has already done that... and he's tired. Tired physically, tired mentally, tired of being in charge. For once, he'd like to experience what it means for someone to take care of him. Just once.
Taking care of yourself isn't even on your mind. Yes, you're horny beyond belief, skin on fire as you grind your dripping cunt against his still-clothed cock. Force, it isn't enough, it'll never be enough until you get the real thing. But... you want to try something different. You have a feeling he might want to as well.
"Where are you-" Luke begins to ask as you reluctantly pull yourself off him, only to be cut off by you running your fingers down his happy trail before shoving your hand down his pants. "Shavit, sweetheart!"
"Who are you calling sweetheart?" you smile, enjoying the thrill of feeling him before seeing him. His cock is hot and heavy in your palm, and much to your delight he neglected to wear any undergarments. As much as you enjoy the groans that escape his lips at the way you run your thumb over the already leaking tip, the devious part of you desires to tease him even more; removing your hand from his member, you move to squeeze his tightening balls.
"Fuck... fuck..." Luke moans. He's gripping the sheets with his cybernetic, flesh hand resting over the upper half of his face.
"Such language, Master... and such a light touch, too," you say, "I'm starting to worry you won't last for me."
When Luke finally manages to look out from under his hand, there's something strange in his eyes--lust, desire, conviction. To do what, you don't know.
"Sit on me."
"Are you sure? I don't think you're ready-"
"Not my cock. My face."
Now it's your turn to be surprised. All this teasing, all this bossing him around, yet he can't help but turn the tables and remind you who's in charge. That damn Skywalker is impossible to figure out, but you wouldn't have it any other way--in all honesty, that's why you're here. Why you stayed, even when he tried to push you away.
"Very well, Master... but I want a taste of you as well."
Before maneuvering to climb over him, you pull his trousers off his legs in one swift motion, his cock standing at full attention as it springs from its confines. Fuck, just the sight of it is enough to make you want to bounce on it until you're both sweaty and screaming. But not yet.
Your eyes are just keen enough to notice the way Luke blushes at you eyeing him up in the dim light. Stars, he is hairy--not that you're complaining, of course. You just didn't expect the wise old Jedi master to practically be a Wookiee beneath his clothes. He squirms a little under the intensity of your gaze, cock twitching in anticipation. A bead of precum glistens in the faint moonlight and dribbles down the veiny shaft... Licking your lips, you decide to do something about it.
Luke steadies you with his arms as you maneuver to climb over him. Soft apologies and awkward giggles are traded between the two of you as you try to figure out your bearings, metal hand accidentally pinching soft flesh and weight being distributed uncomfortably, but not painfully.
"I-I've never done this before," you breathe out, breaking your previously seductive demeanor.
"I wouldn't know where to begin," Luke's low voice chuckles, "but I think as long as you don't break my neck, we're doing it right."
Your current predicament involves you straddling his neck and facing his chest; you're bent over him, just barely hovering over his face, and his hands are gripping the soft flesh of your ass. The cybernetic in particular digs into your skin in a deliciously painful way, and you know it'll leave marks after--marks you'll wear with pride. Not that anyone other than him will be seeing them.
Luke quite enjoys the view he's getting--it takes practically all his willpower not to pull you down onto his face and go to town, damn the consequences (although a sprained neck at his age in the middle of nowhere is most certainly a bad idea). After having gotten a taste of your pussy before, he's insatiable; he'll do anything to get his fix.
Balancing your weight on your knees and your forearms, you lean forward to assess your target. The slight upward curve of his cock gives you easy access to it; licking down his happy trail, you nuzzle through wiry hairs before greeting his aching, impatient member. The Jedi Master may be able to hide his impatience beneath his actions and his demeanor, but, given his anatomy, his body can't.
Leaning forward, you greedily stick out your tongue to lap up the bead of precum already leaking out. It's... salty, and slightly bitter. You're still not sure about the taste, but it's him, so you want it.
Luke groans beneath you at the feeling of your tongue on him. The vibrations from his voice dance cruelly on your clit, the phantom of pleasure yet to come--before he finally grants you mercy and pulls you down onto his waiting lips.
The gasp that escapes your lips is muffled by you taking him in your mouth to gag yourself on his cock. He felt so massive when he was inside you, but like this... you almost can't handle it. Figuratively, and literally--you stop right before he hits the back of your throat, taking in just enough to really drive him wild without hurting yourself.
Luke drowns his moans in your soaking cunt, his noises and the movement of his hands beckoning you to start moving on his face.
Come on, sweetheart, his voice says in the back of your mind--another Jedi ability, you're sure. You won't hurt me.
Hips and mouth begin a slow, rhythmic pace on him. You can't help the way you tremble ever so slightly, unsure about the pressure of your movements or the depth of your strokes, but that anxiety becomes an afterthought as your senses dissolve into pure pleasure.
Luke fights the temptation to start bucking into your mouth--no, you've been far too good to him, you don't deserve to be treated in such a way. You're his angel, his saving grace, the being he isn't even worthy of touching (yet somehow is). Whatever he did to earn your affection, he wants to repay tenfold--you're his to use as you please.
He uses his tongue on you with as much fervor and hunger as he did earlier that night, if not even more. The taste of you on his lips lights a fire in the pit of his stomach and fully has him drunk on your essence. Reverently Luke alternates between fucking you with his tongue and swirling it around your clit, just as you alternate between sucking and stroking his shaft.
It's so wrong, a master and student behaving like this... Your cheeks flush at the utter indulgence of the act. Whatever afterlife the Jedi of old reside in, you can only hope they aren't witnessing your liaison.
Luke, however, doesn't give a fuck. He hasn't given one in quite some time--why should he live by the rules of the dead? That dogma nearly destroyed him. It ruined everything he ever cared about, everything he never allowed himself to truly love. No, "attachment" was forbidden. Anything that could become a pathway to the dark side was to be shunned.
Luke never understood how for so much of his Jedi training, so much of his life, his emotions were regarded as an inseparable part of him, passion and love he had harnessed to help countless others during the war. That all changed when he saved his father. He had defied Obi-Wan and Yoda's instruction to kill Anakin; therefore, his feelings were misguided, wrong. And it became his duty to suppress them.
But not anymore. He is no longer a Jedi, not in the way he was "meant" to be. He's just Luke, just a hermit, just an old man learning to love again--or, perhaps, learning to love for the very first time.
Luke's cock twitches and kicks in your mouth, threatening to spill at any moment. Teasingly, you pull him out of your mouth--earning a harsh groan into your cunt--to kiss the swollen, purple head.
"Oh, master..." you whisper, tracing his veins with your fingertips, "let go for me. I'm here, I'm ready."
A final squeeze of his balls urges him to finish on your tongue--and, capturing him in your mouth once more, he does. Spurts of hot liquid spill inside you, albeit in a different spot than before, and you choke slightly on the sheer load of it all. You're milking Luke for all he's worth, and he rewards you by practically breeding your mouth. Hips stutter and still as he calms down and starts to soften, so you slip him out of your mouth, gracing the overstimulated head with a final lick.
Your clit throbs at the taste of him cumming in your mouth, the knot forming within your belly signaling your own impending release. Beneath you, Luke is patiently at work drawing it out, exploring the depths of your sacred spot with his tongue. Now you're fully free to ride his face with reckless abandon--a task he encourages you to do with the guidance of his hands squeezing your thighs and groping your ass.
"Luke... Luke..." you moan, letting the sound freely escape your now unoccupied lips. No 'Master,' no titles or nicknames, just his name; his true name, the one he hasn't heard anyone call him in the past six years. If your senses are correct, coupled with the scratchy sensation of his beard, you can feel him smiling into you as he eats you out. He's positively making out with your cunt, kissing you just as he had kissed your other set of lips when you first came to him.
The orgasm that approaches is entirely unlike the one you experienced before; it approaches slowly, like a wave off the coast of the Temple Island, growing and growing in intensity before finally crashing against the shore. You buck your hips on his face, feeling the friction of his beard against your clit as you chase the delicious sensation bubbling beneath the surface.
Soon enough, Luke grants it; your Force bond burns white-hot as you tremble and come undone on his face, slicking his beard with juices he laps up as happily as a massiff. You're sure the cries that escape your lips are audible all the way in the Caretaker village. Luke chuckles beneath you, large hands--the ones that surely left bruises on your skin--coming up to help you slide off his face and into his lap.
Silence. No more rain. Just beyond the cliffs, the twin suns of Ahch-To begin to rise; much like the dawns of his youth, you imagine. You turn your gaze to your new lover's face as the first slivers of light stream through the opening of the window.
"That was..." you start, laughing breathlessly as you run your fingers through your hair.
Luke props himself up on his elbows, wiping his face with his flesh hand. A rare smile appears on his face.
"...Good. Very good."
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