Hi there, as you see I’m in need of a writing buddy. Okay it’s want and a need haha
i'm currently working on a romantasy story influenced by real world politics, Ancient Greece and the medival age (more look wise than lore wise but that can always change right?). I’m seeking 18+ writing buddies that are comfortable talking about adult subjects, and preferably someone who has also deeper knowledge when it comes to Star Wars/Harry Potter/ hunger games lore. I tend do overthink certain plots and i like to talk about it in depth. i need some accountability, encouragement, and a place to yap about my characters and have some engagement. This way i write better than alone, i need someone to yearn with me. It should be a long term thing.
To me: i‘m 28, female, professional yapper and nerd, I speak english and german fluent and i cannot wait to connect with you! 🩷
✦setting: this fanfiction sets during the events of cafta.
✦genre: best friends to lovers, slow burn.
✦ summary: they wrote your ending for you long before you learned how to resist it.
Promised to one man, in love with another, and standing on the edge of a fate meant to swallow you whole — you discover that not all tragedies end in water. Some are interrupted.
✦warnings: implicit sex, emotional abuse & manipulation, period typical misogyny, non-consensual medical examination, sexual shame – slut shaming language, war themes & deployment anxiety, angst, coercion and emotional distress.
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You were fine with an arranged marriage... or at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself since the moment you stepped into the bridal shop. Your mother couldn’t make it today, and your future in-law was traveling this week.
Your reflection in the mirror looked back at you. The white fabric caught the light, sending back soft glimmers, as if it was breathing with you. The V-neck framed your neck and collarbones with quiet elegance, while the fitted bodice molded your figure before flowing into a full skirt that spread around you like a whisper.
Yet, for some reason, you felt like you were suffocating.
You stepped back and sank onto the stool in the middle of the private fitting room, taking deep breaths to calm yourself down. A pair of blue steel eyes peeked through the doorway, and before you could say or do anything, your best friend walked in. That boyish grin making your stomach twist in ways you weren’t ready to name.
He was in his uniform, every medal in place.
“I didn’t know you’d made it to the final stage of planning, sunny. Your mother didn’t come to pick up the dress with you?”
You shook your head, but before you could respond, the shop assistant intervened. “Excuse me, it’s considered bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her —”
“He’s not my fiancé,” you interrupted, waving a hand dismissively, though saying it out loud made your stomach knot anyway.
Bucky laughed, shooting the woman a cheeky smile. She flushed furiously as he passed by. “She doesn’t have much luck, doll.” Ugh. He was so effortlessly flirtatious that it was maddening. You tossed a few stray buttons in his direction. “Oof, you missed your shot, sunny. Good thing I still have my bulletproof vest on”. He joked, his gaze sweeping over you in a way he hoped you wouldn’t notice... but you did, and your cheeks warmed instantly. “That dress looks exquisite on you, sunny. Charles is a lucky bastard.”
That made your bubble pop. Right. The dress. Charles, your real fiancé.
“I feel like it’s cutting off my circulation”, you admitted, turning your back at him. “Since you’re here, do something useful and help me unzip it. I’ve been suffocating since I put it on.”
His hands settled on your waist; you felt his breath brushing your neck. “Sunny...” he began. “You don’t have to marry Charles if you don’t want to. His family can find him someone else for that merger.”
He had a point... though he didn’t.
“The invitations were sent. The venue is booked. It’s too late to cancel everything. My parents would kick me out — what then?” You exhaled sharply, glancing at Bucky’s reflection behind you in one of the mirrors. “They’ve made it clear they don’t support me studying. For them, my main role is to preserve our family line. On the other hand, Charles said that he could take me to Western Europe to study if I want to.”
Bucky sighed. “And how the hell is he planning to do that, in the middle of a war, huh?” His hands stayed on your waist, his breath now tickling your neck. “There’s no way, sunny. You can find another husband. Didn’t you tell me once you wanted to marry someone you love?”
“That was a fantasy”, you replied coldly. “If I don’t get married, my parents will send me to work in a factory as a punishment. And more than half the men in Brooklyn are already enlisted in the army. Where else would I find someone to fall in love with and marry, genius?”
Finally, his hands tensed, and he made you turn around to face him. His voice was calm, but his gaze said more than words ever could.
“You mean there’s no one in your life you want right now?”
“You know what I mean, Bucky.” Your voice was a low murmur, the knot in your stomach tightening. “You must go to war. That’s what you said when I told you about my wedding, you said you got your deployment orders and...”
“Fuck the deployment orders. That was some stupid mistake, sunny. I’ll quit the army for you, for us...”
You shook your head, but it felt heavy in your shoulders, like even that gesture was too much to carry. “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. You can’t just quit the army, not with your deployment orders already issued. You’ll get in trouble.”
“Then we run away. Everything will be okay as long as we have each other.” He said, as if it was simple. The blue of his eyes was almost translucent, pure longing.
And hell, you wanted to say yes. You wanted to tell your parents, Charles and the stupid dress to go to hell. But Charles family… they had the power and the resources to send Bucky to the front early. You shook your head again, looking away. “If you’re not helping me with the zipper, then go.”
And so, he did, leaving you alone in the middle of the dressing shop, feeling how the bodice constricted your chest, and your heart along with it. Yeah, arranged marriages totally sucked.
You hadn’t heard from Bucky since that day.
Not even through Steve, who went to your father to ask him for a favor so he could be accepted in the army despite his failed medical exam. Your father couldn’t do anything and even advised him to stop trying... and he vanished as soon as you asked him about Bucky.
Now you are at the World’s Exposition of Tomorrow, Howard Stark headlining the exhibition with his last discoveries... and your fianceé family was figuring among the main investors. The Morgan Family was a respected dynasty, and the fact their name was attached to scientific improvements, and Stark’s patents had your parents drooling over the prestige.
“...it’s a shame Winnifred and George couldn’t join us today.” Your father said, snapping you out of your daze as he walked beside you and Charles. It was a custom for families like theirs to never appear in public unchaperoned, so you were never alone with him. “I just saw James with Steve, having fun with a couple of young ladies.”
Your stomach lurched. Bucky was here? In a double date with Steve? That was... low.
“James as James Barnes? That poor boy is too young to be in the army,” Charles interrupted, trying to catch your gaze that got lost in the multitude. “Is he a friend of yours, darling?”
You nodded, as you excuse yourself to the restroom. Neither of them gave any sign of noticing your white lie. You weaved through a few booths, and when you spotted Bucky unmistakably through the crowd, you quietly grabbed his free hand... the other one that wasn’t holding his date.
“May I have a word with you?” You asked once he turned to face you. He shrugged, glancing at the attractive girl who was with him, who was distracted by the demonstration about some flying car on the stage. “...in private.”
Without another word, you led him toward the back of one of the food tents, the biggest one, so you both could be hidden from the curious gazes of everyone.
“I was on a date, sunny, a double date, actually Steve needs... —”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving tomorrow?” You interrupted. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about Steve or their double date. “Were you really going to leave without saying goodbye? Does my... friendship mean so little to you?”
Bucky grimaced at your words. “I could ask you the same thing, sunny. Do I mean so little to you that you’ve gone ahead with this wedding?” Your chest ached, and you shrank in on yourself. “Tell me, sunny... what’s the point of saying goodbye? By the time I return from my assignment you probably won’t even be living here in Brooklyn anymore.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you replied, although you knew there was some truth in his statement. The Morgan family owned so many properties in Connecticut that, even if you didn’t want to, you likely would end up moving there “Would you rather leave knowing our last conversation happened in that bridal shop?”
“Oh, you mean that conversation where I said I’d give up everything for us, and you told me it was the stupidest thing I’ve ever said?” Bucky laughed, humorlessly, shaking his head. “Neither of us should even be here. I saw you arrive with the Morgan family, sunny. If they notice we’re sneaking around...”
You shook your head, even though you knew he was right. You were testing your luck. “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself. Promise me you won’t do anything reckless and you’ll come back in one piece.” Your voice cracked, and finally, Bucky’s expression softened.
“Don’t cry over this poor sergeant, sunny. You’ll get wrinkles before your wedding day, and the groom will say ‘no’ at the altar”. He paused, a small, crooked smile, tugging his lips. “I hope he does, though. That way, I can take you with me the moment I return from war.”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, brushing a hand over his cheek. God, you wanted to kiss him so badly. “I love you, sergeant.” Before you could say more, your father’s voice called her from across the crowd. “I must go. I’ll leave my window open, I’ll stay awake.”
You heard a soft knock on your window, right after midnight. Your house was in complete silence, so you rushed and helped him get inside without making any noise. There he was. He looked tired, but also, there was a glint of something you couldn’t quite name in his eyes.
“I was starting to think you wouldn’t come tonight. Dropped your date this late, huh?” You said, trying to sound nonchalant about it, but there was something twisting in your chest as you spoke.
“Jealous much, sweetheart?” He teased, making room for himself next to you in your bed. It was a twin bed, and you barely fit, but you couldn’t care less.
“Ugh, don’t start with that pet name. Save it for your conquests, James.” You replied, rolling your eyes. “Just as ‘doll’ or whatever you charm Brooklyn women with.”
His hand found yours through the dark, his fingers intertwining with yours in silence, your pulse spiked at that, you swore he could listen to it. “At the fair... you said you loved me. Did you really mean it? Or was it just what felt right at the time?”
You nodded, knowing he couldn’t see you in the dark. “I do. Guess I have since that day Steve, you and I went to Coney Island, and you won that stupid teddy bear for me. Or maybe that day you brought me flowers for my birthday... I don’t know when I started loving you but...”
You don’t get to finish, one second; you’re talking (whispering, actually) and the next he’s kissing you gently and unannounced, stealing the words right off your tongue. The kiss is light at first, almost hesitant, but it deepens just enough to feel intentional. Not a question, not a rush — just a quiet, careful promise pressed to your lips.
Bucky pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “Couldn't stand the fact that prick would be your first kiss...” he murmured against your lips, shifting in bed, holding himself above you in his forearms. “He only sees you as a pawn, something to get status. You deserve to be worshipped... loved.”
Something in his voice makes your chest ache. You reach without thinking, your hand warm against his jaw, grounding him there with you.
He kisses you like he means it — like a promise, like a vow he doesn’t trust words to hold. You hesitate for a moment, not because you don’t want him, but because wanting him suddenly feels like something fragile.
Bucky feels it. He doesn’t move closer right away; doesn’t rush or close the space you didn’t ask him to cross. Instead, his thumb brushes softly along your jaw, grounding, patient.
“Hey”, he whispers, barely louder than your breathing. “We don’t have to do anything else, sunny. I’m good just kissing you.”
The reassurance settles you. The way he looks at you, does more than any kiss could. When he leans again, it’s slow, giving you every chance to pull away. You don’t. You meet him halfway, tentative at first, then surer, and his answering is warm and steady, like a promise kept.
By the end of the night, you’re sure about two things:
1) You loved Bucky Barnes more than anything.
2) You shouldn’t marry Charles.
Just activate a grenade and toss it into the garden where the wedding is supposed to happen”. You joke for the umpteenth time to Steve, who’s clearly tired of hearing the same request repeatedly. “
He rolls his eyes and tosses a stone into the lake. “Why not just cancel the wedding like Bucky told you? Charles seems reasonable.”
“The key word is ‘seems’, Stevie.” you reply, crossing your arms. “Don’t forget he’s almost ten years older than me, and that he couldn’t find a wife on his own despite his attractiveness.”
“You could’ve said no from the start.” He says, but the truth is... not really. You tried talking to your parents out of that idea, but they barely listened. And Charles, well, he promised the moon and the stars: a professional career, a tutor to prepare you for college in Eastern Europe... and you fell for it, because honestly? Women didn’t get too many chances at education. “...I’m not throwing a grenade, period.”
The two of you fall silent, staring off at nothing. “Any news from Bucky’s unit?” You asked finally. Both of you have been trying to get updates since the moment he left, offering each other moral support.
Steve shakes his head. “He’s alive, okay? He has to be. He’s strong, smart... always finds a way out. Hell, I think he might even flirt with the enemies’ nurses to get healed in case he’s injured.” That earns him a nudge from you. “Hey! I’m just saying. It’s a shame, he didn’t want to go there... and here I am, wishing I was there and forced to watch and pray for my country and for my best friend.”
“There are worst fates than that... look at me, about to marry a man I don’t love.” You finish, looping an arm around his shoulders. “...unless you throw that grenade.”
Steve exhales, but before he can reply, your father intervenes, giving you a disapproving look at how close you are to him. To another man that’s not your fiancé. You can already predict the lecture about propriety.
“The family doctor is here for your prenuptial evaluation,” your father announces, arms crossed. “Say goodbye to your friend.”
“An... evaluation? Do they really have to —?” You pale at the thought. “Father, this is ridiculous, don’t you think?”
Steve notices your discomfort and nods towards your father with a brief, reassuring pat on your shoulder. But you’re lost in memories of that last night with Bucky, when his hands traced your body and your lips sought each other in the darkness.
Now a doctor was here to inspect you as if you were Charles’ property. And the truth is, married or not, you could never belong to him.
The rest of the exam passes in a blur. Routine checks: blood pressure, breathing, skin, eyes, ears, temperature. You obey automatically until it’s time to lie on the bed.
“I need to use the bathroom,” you say when Dr. Higgins asks you to lift your dress. You try to rise, but he stops you. “Miss, I assure you I’m a professional. I’ve done thousands of these exams. And we are, after all, in your room.” That was the problem. If the stories about virginity were true, he would know immediately.
You take a deep breath and force yourself to appear… untouched. Not that you believe it’s possible, but that’s how you hold yourself during the inspection, staring at the ceiling as if waiting for a divine sign.
“All done. I’ll give the results to young Mr. Morgan,” he says, patting your knee so you can close your legs. You lower your skirt and stare into the distance.
“Will the results remain confidential? That only my fiancé sees them?” Your cheeks burn, earning the doctor a raised eyebrow, but he nods knowingly.
“Don’t worry. That’s standard for prenup evaluations—confidential for both parties.”
Another try-on evening at the bridal shop.
But this time, Charles was beside you. There were only a few days remaining before the wedding, and he had become your shadow, following you wherever you go. Honestly, a friendly face would have been welcomed, but Steve has been chosen for the ‘Rebirth project’ and was out on the bond tours.
Charles is leaning against the doorframe, while the seamstress removes a few pins from your dress to adjust it. You nervously fidget with your fingers, looking at him in the mirror.
“It’s considered bad luck for the groom to see the bride’s dress before the wedding,” you murmured, shifting your weight. You flinch as the woman pricks you with a pin in the ribs.
Charles shakes his head. “Let me tell you something, darling. This union was cursed from the day you gave your virtue to someone else.”
You paled, alarmed. “Darling... Charles, I —”
“Shut your mouth, dear. Didn’t your parents teach you it’s rude to speak back to your future husband?” The word ‘dear’ drips like velvet poison from his lips. “Who was it? I’ll tear him apart.”
Your legs tremble under his scrutiny. The seamstress continues her work, oblivious —or perhaps used to it. “N... no... it doesn’t matter who it was,” you whisper, the knot in your stomach tightening.
Charles lets out a humorless laugh. “Oh, but it does. It was James Barnes, wasn’t it? I saw the way your face dropped on the expo. It must hurt, doesn’t it? Must hurt to be nothing but a filthy little flirt for him.”
You press your face into your hands, forcing yourself to hold back tears and swallow the lump in your throat. “Charles, enough. We’re in public.”
“I hope he dies on his mission.” He turns sharply toward the door. “You’re lucky my parents are fond of you. Otherwise, I’d have canceled this shitshow and let everyone in Brooklyn know the kind of... woman my fiancée really is.”
You don’t realize you’re shaking until he slams the door, and a pin drops to the floor.
The seamstress murmurs a quiet “I’m sorry,” not for the prick of the pin, but for everything else, but you don’t know how to respond. You let her help you out of the dress and put your clothes back on before walking outside, only to find Charles waiting outside his car. The cold gaze he gave you sank deep in your bones.
You were doomed. Your fate was sealed, and it all felt like a nightmare.
Rehearsal dinner came quickly after that day. It was harsh to fake a smile in front of everyone. Everything was too bright. Too loud. Too polished.
Crystal glasses clinked against porcelain plates, laughter rising and falling in practiced waves, and everywhere you look there are smiles —wide, approving, satisfied. Yours is among them, perfectly rehearsed, fixed in place until your cheeks ache.
You sit at the head of the table beside Charles, your posture immaculate, your hands folded neatly in your lap. Every time someone congratulates you, you nod and murmur a polite thanks, the words slipping out automatically, as if you’re watching yourself from somewhere far away.
Inside, your chest feels tight.
The room is warm —too warm — and the air feels heavy in your lungs, like you’re breathing through damp fabric. Each course drags on longer than the last, each toast another weight pressing down on your ribs. Someone mentions the future. Children. Family line. You smile again, but it feels like lying with your entire body.
Across the table, your parents beam with pride. This is everything they wanted. Respect. Security. A perfect alliance.
You excuse yourself at the first polite opportunity, murmuring something about needing fresh aire. No one questions it. No one ever does.
Outside, the night greets you with a cold breeze off Lake Erie. You step closer to the railing, fingers curling around the iron, and for a moment you let yourself imagine it — the water swallowing the noise, the expectations, the carefully constructed life closing over your head until everything goes blessedly quiet.
You wouldn’t even have to swim. The thought scares you, how tempting it feels. How easy it would be to lean forward, to let the dark take you.
Instead, you press a hand to your chest and breathe slow and shallow, until the dizziness fades. You tell yourself this is just nerves. Just fear. That it will pass. But deep down, you know the truth; this was all doomed.
You hear a door closing behind you, and your pulse spikes. Footsteps. Voices. Reality rushing back in. You straighten instinctively, shoulders drawing back, mask sliding into place before you even turn around. The laughter, the toasts, the future waiting for you inside —it all presses down at once, heavy and unavoidable. Your chest tightens, breath turning shallow, and suddenly it feels like the walls are closing all over again.
You are trapped.
“Did someone need a grenade?” The voice cuts through the noise like a spark in the dark. You freeze.
Steve Rogers steps out of the dark, grin already in place, dressed neatly and far too casual for a room full of rigid expectations. Behind him —half a step back, as if he doesn’t quite trust the moment: Bucky. Alive. Whole. Real.
For a second, you forget how to breathe. Even in the dark, you could see some scars on his cheeks and dirt on his clothes. His expression looked different to that usual confident facade he always portrays, but it’s still him.
Steve’s smile widens when he sees your expression. “Brought a little something for my favorite bride to be. Couldn’t let you get married to the wrong man.”
Bucky doesn’t say anything at first. He just looks at you, blue eyes soft and searching, like he’s memorizing the sight of you standing there under the dim lights. Like he’s afraid you might disappear if he blinks.
And for the first time all evening, the tightness in your chest eases.
Bucky steps closer, slow, careful, like he’s approaching something fragile. The noise from inside fades into a dull hum, the world narrowing until it’s just the three of you beneath the terrace lights.
“What have they done to you?” You whisper, stepping into the darkness, voice breaking at the end. Your hand caresses his scarred cheek.
Bucky steps closer, lowering his voice like the night itself might be listening.
“They kept asking questions,” he says. No drama. No anger. Just truth. “Didn’t always wait for answers.” Your stomach twists. “I don’t remember how many days it was,” he continues, eyes fixed on yours. “But every time I thought I wasn’t going to make it… I thought of you.”
Your breath hitches at that. “I told myself I couldn’t die,” he says quietly. “Not if it meant you’d end up marrying someone else.” A pause. “Couldn’t let my girl slip through my fingers without a fight.”
Those words hit harder than anything Charles ever said to you.
Behind you, Steve shifts, clearing his throat softly —giving you a moment, then grounding it. “If this is happening, I’m afraid we don’t have much time.”
Bucky holds your gaze and covers your hand with his. “Say the word, sunny.” He murmured. “And I’ll get you out of this shitshow.”
The dinner. The wedding. Life expectations waiting inside to close over you like water.
You nod and that’s all he needs. Steve turns on his heel, already moving. “I’ll draw attention. You two take the long way around.”
Bucky finally takes your hand, firm and sure, like something solid in a world that’s been slipping out from under you for weeks. As you move into the dark, away from the lights and the music, his thumb presses gently against your skin. The noise fades behind you, and then it hits you.
Your shoulders tense, the weight of weeks —months —crashing down all at once. The pretending. The smiling. The suffocating certainty that your life had already been decided for you. But then, there’s Bucky. Here. Alive. In front of you. Saving you.
Your vision blurs before you even realize you’re crying.
“Hey,” he acknowledges, stopping immediately, turning fully toward you. His hands come up instinctively, steadying you when your knees threaten to give. “What is it, sunny?”
You try to speak, but the sound that leaves you is a broken breath instead. “I —” Your voice trembles, betraying you. “I thought... I thought this was it. That I was already gone. That I would never see you again.”
The tears spill freely now, hot and unrestrained, born not from fear — but from release. From the sudden understanding that the future you were marching toward, terrified and alone, no longer has its claws in you.
He pulls you into him without hesitation. His hand slides to the back of your head, cradling you there as your forehead presses into his chest. You can feel his heartbeat right beneath your ear, and it only makes you cry harder.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers, voice low and rough with something unspoken. “I wasn’t gonna let them take you. Not like that.”
Your fingers curl into his jacket, clinging like the ground beneath you might disappear again if you let go. “I didn’t think anyone was coming,” you admitted softly. The words muffled against him. “I really thought… this was my fate.”
He exhales slowly, his thumb brushing back and forth against your skin in that same gentle motion, over and over. Anchoring you. “Not anymore,” he says quietly. “That future doesn’t get to have you.”
The house is small. That’s the first thing you notice.
Not a mansion. Not a place meant to impress. Just a narrow, two-story building tucked between trees, far enough from the road that the night sounds feel louder than the world you left behind.
Steve unlocks the door and steps aside. “You’re safe here,” he says simply. “No one knows about this place. Not officially at least.”
The word officially carries weight now.
Bucky squeezes your hand as you step inside. The rooms fell faintly of dust and soap, like somewhere that hasn’t been lived in yet. Or somewhere waiting.
“There’s food in the kitchen. Blankets are in the closet. You can stay as long as you need.” Steve clears his throat. “I’ll check back in a couple days. Just... rest, okay? Both of you.”
When the door closes behind him, the silence settles — not heavy, not threatening. Just quiet.
Safe.
You sink onto the edge of the bed in the small bedroom, your body finally giving in to exhaustion now that it’s allowed to. The dress is gone. The expectations are gone. Even your name feels lighter here. Bucky crouches in front of you, resting his forearms on his knees. “You okay, sunny?”
You nod. Then shake your head. A broken, breathless laugh surprises you both. Bucky smiles, small and sure before pulling you into his chest, arms wrapping around you fully this time — not careful, not restrained. Just holding you like someone who’s allowed to.
Outside, the wind moves through the trees. Somewhere far away, the war keeps turning.
But here, you breathe. And for the first time, nothing asks you to drown.
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taglist: the very first person who read this drabble ♡ @herejustforbuckybarnes
✦a/n: this is the first bucky barnes fic I've ever written! (Also, first time writing in english so sorry in advance if i mistranslated or mistyped something.) I’ve written about my other interests (boybands mostly), but I listened to the fate of ophelia this morning and remembered “when life gives you tangerines” kdrama and this idea came to me, also, had to be 40’s bucky cause he’s so cute and he deserved more. Hope u guys like it, and it’s not my debut and goodbye lol.
We need “I don’t like (x), I like you!” With anakin x reader im begginggg like fluff into cute smut
omg I was so happy when I read the request this morning! I have a bunch of drafts with Anakin but it's been yeeears since I wrote for him.
I didn't know how to solve the cute smut part, since I don't write it. But I think I handled it quite well :) (don't mind the title, I couldn't really come up with a good one. And I listened to Fortnight quite a lot while writing this. Here's the playlist I listened to)
It's ruining my life
Anakin Skywalker x Senator!Reader
Warnings: angst, a bit of cheesy romance, cute 'smut' and I didn't proof read it. (English is my second language sorry lol)
Word Count: 2728
A/n: " I don't like (x), I like you!" From my prompt list you can find here!
Comments, reblogs and likes are very welcomed!<3
Jealousy was what you felt whenever you saw him with her.
It was undeniable that they had something going on and even though you weren't sure what exactly it was it still influenced your mood.
The bright teeth showing smile Anakin gave Padme whenever they met made you feel like someone punched you in the face.
Your heart tightened and the skin on your face burned.
Jedi weren't allowed to have attachments.
You knew it.
He knew it
and she knew it.
But still they were giving each other that looks.
It was a sunny afternoon, the air was thick and it was inevitable to walk outside without searching for shadow.
The cars in the sky were loud as you walked underneath them towards the senate. The spotless clean windows of the buildings you passed were reflecting your silhouette.
The chatting of people who dared to be outside was muffled to you, the clacking of your shoes on the hot grey asphalt were everything you concentrated on.
The heat made it unbearable to walk fast, but the faster you walked the faster you would be in the grand building.
You passed the hanger where ships came and left within 30 seconds. Today there was a lot going on. Representatives of every corner of the galaxy arrived and you fastened your steps to get a proper distance to them.
“Is it really necessary to walk this fast? We are nearly there and way too early.”
You jumped by the melodic voice that was the closest to you.
Risha, your counselor a few steps behind you, had a hard time to keep up with the pace.
Without turning around you raised your right arm to made a gesture that told her that she should be quiet.
“Don’t do that to me y/n. "I dare you.”
You ignored her angry undertone and continued walking, head up high. No emotion readable from your face.
Finally you reached the shadow that the senate threw. The dark marble columns were cold when you leant against it for a few seconds.
The long dress was thick and felt uncomfortably tight around your corpse.
With a grown you leaned your head back facing the high ceiling before closing your eyes.
The short relief was interrupted as you heard someone chuckle in the distance.
You would recognize it under hundreds and a shiver creeped down your back.
It was Anakin with Padme and another few members of the Jedi Council who made their way to the entrance.
They walked slowly, relaxed even. His long wavy hair moved with his steps, his hands were crossed behind his back. He looked effortlessly good and unawarely you bit your lip.
While straightening up you watched the scene, should you greet them or wait until they passed you.
It was more of a question how much you wanted to hurt yourself today. Being near him was an undefinable joy and pain at the same time.
On one hand there was Padme, she looked stunning as usual with her goddess-like appearance. She flirted with him even though she knew she shouldn’t.
Maybe it was unintentionally but you chose to be petty about this.
The other thing was the Jedi behind and next to them. Stern but peaceful faces. They had an aura about them that was kind of calming but the feeling of being watched by them could not be ignored and they definitely did.
“Good day Senator y/l/n”
It was Padme that brought me back into reality. While being deep in your thoughts they nearly reached you.
Her angelic voice hurted in your ears. It was something about her, most likely her acting all innocent and good, that made you want to throw up.
Now it was too late to escape the situation and fighting through seemed to ruin the day even more but it was your own fault.
“Good day. Hot today isn’t it?”
With a lot of effort you managed to bring your brightest smile onto your face as you made one step towards them.
“It most certainly is. You want to join us? We are on our way inside.”
Of course she offered to join them, why wouldn’t she?
“Then we leave you alone.”
You didn’t face him when he raised his voice and your heart skipped a beat. “Senator y/l/n. It was a pleasure.”
As you dared to look over he lowered his upper body a bit to bow, locking his eyes with yours.
Breathless you kept eye contact until he was standing straight again. Before you were able to answer him, Senator Organa joined the group.
“Senator Amidala, do you have a minute?”
The tall older man did not look too pleased and it was certain that the topic he wanted to talk about was nothing fun.
Padme gave Anakin and me an apologizing look before she hurried after the other Senator who already started walking.
“I would wait with her until the Senator returns.”
The seven Jedi, two of them were still Padawans, nodded in response before they walked towards the hanger.
“I don’t want to hold you back. Risha is with me.”
Almost immediately you regretted saying it. It has been at least a year since you spoke to him without others around you.
“I feel more comfortable when I can make sure that you are safe.”
His words went down like a warm shower.
“Thank you Anakin.” Was it even right to call him by his first name? He was no longer a Padawan but also no Master. He was a General in the clone wars but it felt like a safe option. “So what was the business with Naboo and the Jedi?”
What a poor attempt to make small talk. Not bothered at your very forward question he shrugged briefly. “Nothing special. I was in command for a delegation of Jedi to protect Pad- Senator Amidala.”
The way he nearly called her by her first name.
“Sounds fun. What is necessary to get a personal Jedi delegation?”
The sharpness in your voice was too much but it was too late, his face was already changing and he raised one eyebrow.
“I mean of course it is not fun. Excuse me, that was rude. I did not mean to either insult the Jedi nor the Senator”
Your in front of your upper body already folded hands clenched, the skin around your knuckles were lighter as usual. Ashamed by your own disrespect. It was not possible to look up.
“It is not” he confirmed, “You are always free to request a delegate.”
You looked up from the floor. He had stepped closer but no hints of him being angry.
With amusement he scanned your face, he seemed to enjoy your stuttered excuse.
Risha cleared her throat behind you but he ignored her and so did you.
“I guess then I will do that.” you gasped.
“y/n, Senator Bel Iblis is coming towards us.”
Snapped back into reality the hot air around you and the Jedi cooled down and you made a step back turning towards the approaching Senator. Anakin didn’t so his chest was nearly touching your shoulder.
“We can have a talk about that later. I see you at the party.”
Before you could react the Jedi distanced himself into the direction where Padme and Senator Organa showed up again.
Garm Bel Iblis, a charming man and impressive political figure started talking when he arrived at where you were standing but his words were muffled in your tunnel view where you could only see the Jedi with the dark blue eyes who had already laid all his attention onto the two other Senators.
It had finally cooled down as the sun was gone behind the tall towers of the city when you climbed into the car that was waiting at the hanger of your residence in the middle of Corruscent.
Until you were reminded earlier you had forgotten about the dinner party hosted by Mon Mothma.
Luckily it was a short journey, the dress was a standing up dress. The itchy rose golden fabric glittered in the lights coming from the inside of the rooms where already the majority of politicians and wealthy people of Coruscant gathered.
This time you were alone, Risha deserved an evening for her own and you planned not to stay that long.
Inside the high ceiled room one of the servants who had tablets with drinks in their hands offered you one and with a relief you took one. With one fast sip it was empty and you exchanged it for another full one.
Nervously you combed through the crowd, unfortunately the champagne did not cool down the burning sensation in your throat.
Every few steps you had to raise the corners of your mouth to smile, it was exhausting.
In the following two hours several people made conversation with you and the heavy topics made you dizzy.
Instead of taking another drink the cool air should solve it. Before reaching the doors to the balcony a broad shouldered body took in all the room.
“Senator y/l/n”
“General Skywalker.”
“You are already leaving?” It sounded like you heard disappointment in his deep voice.
To be honest you were considering leaving. Everyone had seen you, the job was basically done and it was late.
“I think so-”
Without hesitation he reached for the door gesturing to you to go first.
Slowly you made your way outside, the steps of him behind you were damped by his boots while your heels clicked on the concrete and it was the only thing to hear as the door shut and muffled the music and chatter from inside the building.
At the pick up and drop off area you stopped turning around before speaking.
“You don’t have to wait with me. It will take a bit until my driver is here.”
“There is no time to wait. I will bring you home.” the words overly casually spoken echoed in your ears and your mouth stayed open slightly as a car stopped on your level.
“Express Jedi Service. Don’t say no, just get in.” he softly demanded.
The way back home was quiet, insecurity held you back from speaking up and so you focused on the traffic.
You felt his eyes on you from time to time so you glanced over to him. He was adorably beautiful.
The car stopped all of the sudden and your heart sank. Staying longer at the party would have maybe been a better idea. Having conversations with Politicians was a price you would’ve happily paid if that meant that he was around.
On the platform you stretched your tired arms for a brief moment. A jawn leaving your mouth.
“Long day huh?” He grinnned as he appeared next to you.
“It was. Thank you for the ride back. I really appreciate it.” You made a few steps towards the terrace of your apartment and he followed.
"Anytime. I made you an offer this morning.”
After climbing the two steps up into the entrance area you stopped at the door that led directly to your bedroom, he did the same at almost the same time.
“And I will certainly not forget about it.” You replied with a small smile.
“But I guess you are quite occupied with Senator Amidala.”
“What was that?” Instead of only thinking it, you had muttered the comment about Padme and his posture stiffened, eyes narrowing.
“Nothing. Excuse me, sometimes I tend to speak out my thoughts.” A nervous giggle slipped out of your mouth, eyeing his reaction.
“I serve the republic, so when I offer it I will make sure that I can fulfill it.”
Your face became hot. The relaxed atmosphere shifted into a serious one.
“I get that. But you seem to be pretty happy with being basically the bodyguard of Padme. So it’s not important, really”
“It is important because you are important.”
Silence. The snappy confession of him took you both by surprise. His gaze was like he looked right through you into your soul.
“What do you mean? You-” Your stomach twisted, “You like her.”
His eyes widened for a short moment, he stopped halfway in the step he made into your direction. His posture relaxed and made clear that you didn’t discover a big secret about him.
“You are far off y/n.” he snickered. “I don’t like Padme. I like you. But you were always out of reach.”
“That is not true. Please Anakin.” Your voice broke down.
Whenever you imagined him confessing his love for you, you thought it would be pure happiness and relief but instead it was anxiety that took over your body.
Now that he openly reciprocated the feelings you had for him, a paralyzing pain took over your body.
He became blurry as the tears were building up and you broke eye contact and looked at the white marble flooring.
“We cannot- You know that we cannot.” Finally the tears slowly made their way down your cheeks before dripping onto your chest.
His stern stare softened as sob left your mouth that you tried to suppress.
The smooth warm skin of his palm and thumb on your face made you flinch as he dried the tears without breaking the silence.
Heavy breaths filled at emptied your lungs but it felt like you were choking on the heavy weight that weighed on your ribcage.
Carefully he lifted your chin, forcing you to lay your eyes onto him. The dim light highlighted his cheekbones just right. You could feel his warm breath on your skin as he leaned forward, his other hand on your lower back. All of it creates goosebumps across your body.
“I need you y/n.” His voice wasn’t more than a whisper against your cheek, his lips brushing over it, as you tried to shake your head.
“Please y/n. I’m craving your presence.” He slowly leaned back, his face still only a few inches away, your noses nearly touched. “There is not another minute I can live without you.”
He glimpsed down to your slightly opened lips, the knot in your stomach tightened only to be released as you took all your courage to lean into a soft kiss.
Pure relief took over with every tender movement of his lips against yours.
“We shouldn’t do this.” With a sigh you pulled away a little bit, your eyes moving up to his.
“Then stop.” his voice was husky.
“I cannot.”
He chuckled, his thumb still caressing your cheek. The tears had stopped, the damp traces and swollen eyes were the only remains.
The dizziness that had clouded your head cleared up.
A short wave of panic rolled over you as you realized your surroundings. He leaned into another kiss as you fumbled for the door knob behind you.
The clicking of the door opening was accompanied by a hum from Anakin.
Because of his grip tightening around your waist it was possible to safely walk backwards into the dark room. All the blinds were almost completely closed so you could only tell his frame when he let go of you to lead the way.
Panting, your heart was painfully hard pounding against your ribcage, you grabbed his hand to pull him closer again. The edge of the bed touched your legs so you let yourself fall back.
Both of you laughed as he nearly fell onto you, only his arms holding him up while he crawled onto the bed pushing you upwards until lowering himself not putting his whole body weight on your body.
“I-”
"Shh. Not now”
With another deep kiss he silenced you again, he sank into your embrace. Your fingers combed through his long hair, grabbing strands and pulling on them making him shudder.
Sighs of pleasure echoing through the room.
“You are so beautiful.” His look lingered on you, taking in the attire. He rested his head against the bed frame sitting halfway up to be at the same level as you. The white blanket wrapped around you, covering your chest. Heavily exhaling, you tried to sort your ruffled hair.
“Anakin-”
“Give me the chance to prove that this works.”
Your eyes wandered over his smooth chest, rapidly rising and lowering again, while biting your swollen underlip.
“Theres nothing I ever wanted more.” With a long sigh you moved towards him on your knees and hands. “Than you, Anakin.”
i've said it before but it will forever and always make me insane that jacob's ending is to join the cullens for the sake of bella not having to give anything up. they find out jake will be immortal & tied to renesmee forever, so bella gets to smile & say "my family is finally complete! ^-^" but jake already HAS a family. he has a father and 2 sisters. quil, embry, seth and sam are like his brothers. jacob and leah were planning to run away together. he's always been welcome in emily's home, sue has been a family friend since before his birth. bella abandons her mortality by choice because she feels no connection to the people around her, but jacob has really strong bonds. it's clear that every character we meet in la push is like family to him, he's an active member of the community. jake would've graduated high school and been a mechanic, would've grown into a young man. a good friend, a fun uncle, a present son. he's set up to have such a rich life. and he's just magically compelled to give that up. beyond his control, he loses sight of everything, because his high school crush's baby is now the singular most important thing to him. he's perpetually 18 with his perpetually 18 year old girlfriend, running around vancouver or alaska or wherever with the girl who friendzoned him at 16 & her in-laws (who were antagonistic to him for months). and i'm just supposed to say omg yay now he doesn't have to let go of bella! everyone is happy! it's complete madness
Okay so I churned this out last week because I needed a thing and I just. Yeah. I'm kinda proud of this one, actually.
All you need to know is this is a plus size reader and there was only one bed. That's it, that's the plot.
Din Djarin x f!plus size!reader
Warnings: feelings and thoughts of insecurity, body image issues, self confidence issues, self image issues, there was only one bed, kissing, removal of helmet (but nobody sees anything), Grogu is the real mvp.
Word count: 2.6k
“Here,” Din murmured, nodding ahead of the two of you to a likely looking place. “We’ll try here for the night.”
You looked down at Grogu, who was happily nestled in your arms, and then shrugged and followed your companion. Honestly, you would follow Din just about anywhere, so into this place was nothing. Even if it did look… less than pristine.
Din walked up to the counter, cool and collected as always. His hands were relaxed at his sides - apparently there were no immediate threats in the area. Which was a good thing. You set the child back in his pram, in case you needed your hands free.
“We need accommodations for the night,” he told the innkeeper.
“I’ve got a room,” the man offered agreeably enough.
“We’d prefer two.” The line of Din’s shoulders stiffened, just a little.
“Only got the one.” The innkeeper grinned, apparently unconcerned. “Big festival coming through day after tomorrow, you’re lucky I’ve even got the one left.”
Din sighed, annoyed but not upset. “Fine,” he agreed. “How much?”
The innkeeper looked at your Mandalorian for a few moments before naming a price that you suspected was lower than he normally charged. Din nodded, handing over the necessary credits, and in no time the two of you and the floating pram were headed up the stairs to the open room.
Din swiped the card to open the door, and then paused in the open doorway. You craned to look around him, wondering at the holdup.
The room was… not large. The bed was at least sized for two to share. But the room itself was only a bit bigger than the bed, with a 'fresher door tucked into the corner. It would be tight for the two of you, but doable.
Din turned to look at you, and you shrugged. He stepped into the room and over to the far side of the bed, giving you room to come in and shut the door.
"I can sleep on the ship if you prefer," Din offered. "Give you more room."
Your heart constricted painfully in your chest. He didn't really want to share with you. And of course he didn't - why would he? You were nobody's idea of beauty, let alone desirability. But you smiled and shook your head. "Don't be ridiculous, the ship's still got gaping holes in it. Won't work. I'll just sleep on the floor."
Din sighed. "That's worse than the Crest."
"It's warmer," you pointed out with forced cheer. "Besides, I know you can't get many chances to stretch out, with how tiny your bunk is. Take the bed. It's fine."
Din said your name, stepping closer to you. And you turned away, pretending to not see his hand outstretched just a little towards you, busying yourself with looking in the single cabinet to find extra blankets.
"I'm gonna take the 'fresher real quick," you said, grabbing your bag with your spare clothes in it. You just heard Din's sigh before the door closed between the two of you.
You took a moment to thunk your head back against the wall. You were an idiot. Of course Din didn't want to sleep in the same bed as you. You were far too soft for someone like him, and you glared at the offending body fat. Then you huffed and turned on the sanisteam, disrobing without looking at your reflection.
Your wash was quick - you'd gotten into the habit of being as fast as possible on the ship, where the hot water was very much finite. You dried and dressed in soft knit pants and a soft gray shirt, more than ready to curl up and hope for sleep.
The helmet turned your direction when the door opened, and you had to pause for a moment. Din had taken the rest of his armor off except for the helmet, and he looked even broader without it. His shoulders were so wide, you couldn't help but trail your gaze over them longingly.
Then you grabbed your blankets, shaking them out and trying to find the best place to not get stepped on.
Grogu surprised you both with a sudden cry, and you and Din both jerked your heads around to look at him.
"What's up, kiddo?" You left your pile of blankets to scoop up the kid. He pouted up at you before looking at the bed. You laughed. "You wanna spend the night on the big soft bed with your dad?"
He grumbled something, eyes narrowing a little. You snorted.
"Don't be silly, I know you want to." You passed him over to Din. "Ask your dad."
Din looked down at the little womp rat, who burbled up at him and pointed back to you. He chuckled. "I think he's saying he wants to stay with you."
You snorted. "No way. He wants the bed, he's just being silly."
Grogu made another rather aggravated noise. He looked off the edge of the bed and closed his eyes, one little hand reaching over to the blankets. You watched, bemused, as your little pile of blankets lifted into the air, moved about a foot to one side, and dropped back on the bed. Grogu looked far too pleased with himself.
"I think he wants you on the bed," Din drawled, dryly amused.
"Oh." You blinked. "Kiddo, it's fine, I'm fine on the floor, your dad needs the space."
"I don't mind."
"What?" You blinked at him, caught off guard.
"I don't mind sharing with you." Din had turned enough to face you, his helmet as impenetrable as ever. But you knew that he was looking right into your eyes.
So you nodded slowly. "Okay," you agreed, glad your voice wasn't shaking even as your heart galloped in your chest.
"Get comfy," he ordered as he stood. He deposited the kid back in your arms and strode into the 'fresher, the door closing behind him.
"Are you happy now?" You asked Grogu, though you couldn't help but grin at his smug little face. "You are a menace." You hugged him and kissed the top of his head. He burbled happily at you and then yawned. "Well buddy, where do you want to sleep?"
He pointed back to his pram, so you got him settled. He shut the top himself, and you chuckled.
And then you were alone in the room.
Well. Din had said to get comfy, and you doubted he'd be long in the 'fresher. So you pulled back the blankets on the bed, curling up as small as you could make yourself. After a moment of worrying that you were taking more than half the bed, you scooted until you were at the very edge of the bed. There. Good enough. Surely you weren't taking up more than your share of the bed now.
You heard the 'fresher door open, and tried to curl in more tightly on yourself.
"Are you cold?" The question was gentle, and a good excuse.
"A bit," you agreed quietly.
There was a little hum, and then the bed dipped behind you. Your eyes popped open when you felt him settle next to you. Maker he was so warm - you could feel his warmth even with the bit of space between you two. The bed shifted around again and then settled.
"You look tense."
You huffed. "Don't wanna take up too much space," you muttered.
"What gave you the idea that you would?" He patted the bed behind you.
You paused and looked at him over your shoulder. His helmet was still in place, but he was dressed in soft black clothes. You could see slivers of bronzed skin at his throat and wrists, and one big hand laid bare on the bed. You swallowed. It shouldn't feel so illicit, seeing his skin, but you so rarely saw more than the barest sliver that anything more was unusual.
"Get more comfortable," he rumbled.
You were helpless to do anything but obey. You shuffled back a bit on the bed, and Din's hand landed on your hip, tugging you back even closer. You squeaked as you bumped into him.
"Better?" His voice was lower, deeper, closer than you normally heard it.
"Better," you admitted.
Din hummed a gentle noise behind you, and his hand tugged you back ever so slightly. His fingers spread out over the softness of your hip, squeezing gently.
"Comfortable?" His voice was even clearer. You could hear him unmodulated, he was so close, the chill of the beskar a whisper of a kiss against the nape of your neck.
"I-I, um, yes." You could feel blood rushing to your cheeks, and you had to fight the urge to curl in on yourself again. Or pinch yourself. Because there was simply no way this was happening. There was no way Din was interested in… whatever this was.
The lights flicked off, and silence fell. You just focused on your breathing, hoping he couldn't feel how hard your heart was pounding. Hopefully, eventually, if you just focused on your breathing you'd be able to sleep.
Doubtful, but you could try.
Several minutes had passed before Din spoke again. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"
"What? No!" You shook your head a little, turning your head to try to see him. Which didn't work - the room was very nearly pitch black. "No, I just…"
"Just?" Din pressed gently, his fingers shifting and squeezing gently over the curve of your hip.
"I just… don't wanna make you uncomfortable," you muttered. A wash of shame spilled through you, heating your insides and making you blink rapidly.
There was quiet for perhaps one of the longest moments of your life. Then Din shifted closer, pressing himself up against your back, helmet tucked just behind your head. Your gasp seemed loud in the dark room.
"Why would I be uncomfortable with you?" He murmured, voice low and right in your ear. The effect was immediate and unmistakable - heat of a very different kind burned in your belly and heated your cheeks.
"Because I'm… me."
His fingers tightened just a little on you. "Explain."
You sighed. You really didn't want to. You shouldn't have to. It was obvious, right?
"Because I'm fat. Unattractive. About as far from the standard of beauty as you can get."
There was an almost startled noise behind you, and then Din yanked once. You yipped as you were flipped onto your back, staring up into the darkness at his vague outline as Din loomed over you.
"Who told you that?" The words were growled out, rough and angry.
"Seriously?" Your laugh felt almost punched out of you, and you shook your head. "I've heard it most of my life, Din, it's not just any one person."
"They're wrong." The bed shifted as Din moved, and you could feel one of his knees settle between yours on the bed, his hands framing your head.
"Din–"
"No. They're wrong. You're gorgeous."
Your jaw dropped. There was no way he'd just said that. You'd misheard him. You must have.
"You are," he pressed on, apparently correctly interpreting your silence as shocked disbelief. "You're warm and soft and kriffing gorgeous."
You started shaking your head before you were even aware you were doing it.
"No. Listen to me." Din dropped down closer to you, the warmth of his body so close now. "You. Are. Beautiful."
"Din–"
He shushed you softly, the helmet gently nudging your forehead in a move of affection you'd only seen him bestow on the kid. "Do you even know how often I've thought of you? Wondered if your skin is as soft as it looks?" One of his hands skimmed down your side to your waist, fingers dancing over your softness over your sleep shirt.
You swallowed hard, eyes wide, still trying to catch any hint of light in the room.
He huffed softly, amused with a hint of frustration. "Can you see me?" The question was soft, a little gentler than his previous words.
"No," you admitted.
"Good." His hand left your side, and a moment later something hit the bed next to you. You barely had time to register the thing, just enough time to sort of wonder what it was, when lips captured yours. And your mind went blank, filled only with the feel of Din's lips on yours.
What he lacked in finesse he more than made up for in enthusiasm. One of your hands lifted, finding his shoulder and traveling from there up into his hair. And once your fingers scratched lightly against his scalp? Well, if you thought he'd been enthusiastic before, he was doubly so after feeling your fingers in his hair, making these pleased, almost desperate little noises. Like he just couldn't help himself.
You finally had to turn your head away from his increasingly-ardent kisses. You were both panting, loud in the otherwise quiet room.
"You really meant it?" You asked, a little rushed to get it all out.
"Yes."
This time you kissed him, your hand in his hair pulling him down closer. With a low groan that vibrated against your chest, he gave in, falling against you and driving the breath from your lungs with a breathless squeak.
After several more minutes of kissing, slowly settling into each other, Din finally pulled back a few inches. His breath fell warm across your cheek, followed a moment later by his nose.
"Do you believe me now?"
"Yes."
Din nodded, just a little. And then flipped the two of you.
Which turned out to be a bad move, because the two of you nearly slid off the far edge of the bed, saved only by some squirming, grabbing the sheets, some giggling on your part, and sheer stubbornness on Din's. But the two of you ended up safely on the bed again, this time with Din on his back and you sprawled across him.
"I should–" you started.
"Don't you dare," Din murmured, arms tightening around you.
"I'll squish you."
He snorted. "You won't."
"Din–"
"You won't. I swear." He squeezed you, just a little. Just enough to make you oof out all your air. "Relax."
You grumbled something about easy for him to say, he could breathe. But you were smiling the whole time, and you rested your head down against his chest, the steady thu-thump of his heart soothing.
"Din?"
He grunted acknowledgement.
"Shouldn't you put your helmet on? In case I wake up first?"
"You won't," he muttered, voice already slurring just a little with weariness. "Relax. It'll be fine." One broad hand swept up and down your back slowly, just catching the hem of your shirt and rucking it a little out of place on each pass.
You two would have to talk. You knew that. Tomorrow, or the day after. Sometime soon. You'd have to actually talk about this, whatever this was between you.
But for now? Just for tonight?
You had enough space to stretch out, a warm body comfortably cuddled against you, and a soothing rhythm under your ear. You smiled and closed your eyes.
(You did wake first in the morning, to gentle snores from your bed mate, and curious coos from the pram. You managed to get out of bed blind, keeping your eyes closed lest you give in to the temptation to look, and carried the child into the 'fresher with you.
Y/N: Anakin and I were crossing the street, and this dude flew by and yelled at us.
Obi-Wan: *Sighing* What did Anakin do?
Y/N: He chased him to his next stop, then reached into his window and...
Anakin: Who wants a steering wheel?
