Summary: Anakin reminisces of his time with you and finds himself falling in love again.
Anakin's face beams with joy as he lovingly watches you play with your two shared children. You're running around with them in the flower field. The sound of his children's laughter as they chase you is music to his ears. Your updo loosens as you run, causing a few hair strands to fall in your face before the wind blows it away. The sight brings flashbacks of the first time you two met.
When Anakin came to Naboo with Padme as her jedi bodyguard, he hoped this would be his chance to get closer to her. He had hoped that they can reconnect and maybe his feelings for her would finally become mutual. But alas, she turned him down and sternly told him that they cannot be together.
Now, he must continue to follow her around and protect her as if his heart doesn't ache every time he looks at her, every time he's in her vicinity, every time he breathes the same air as her. It doesn't help that she pays no mind to his change in demeanor either. And to make it worse, she continues to call him "Ani" which makes him sound like a child, not the man he grew up to be.
As the two were walking around the village, they come across you. You were picking various flowers for a bouquet, the majority being yellow daisies. A few strands of hair fell from your updo, covering your face. "Hello Y/n!" You look up from your spot on the floor towards the source of the voice. You smile when you see it's your old friend.
"Senator Amidala! I heard you were coming back but I heard you weren't arriving until tomorrow!" You stand up and dust off your dress. You hold the bouquet of flowers in your other hand. "Y/n, I told you to call me Padme. I'm still your childhood friend." She pulls you in for a tight hug and you immediately accept her warm embrace.
"I'm just trying to be respectful is all Padme." You both pull away from the hug. "I was actually picking these flowers to bring over for when you arrive tomorrow but I suppose I'll just give them to you now."
Padme accepts the bouquet with an appreciative smile. "Thank you Y/n! Plans have changed and the council believed it would be better to come sooner than later." You nod and the two of you fall into a short conversation, catching up. "Oh! This is Anakin by the way. He is my protection and an old friend of mine." Friend. That word tugged at Anakin's heartstrings. It was just another painful reminder that his feelings aren't reciprocated. He felt that he'd never find someone to love him back.
When Anakin locked eyes with you, however, he froze. You were beautiful. He hadn't gotten much of a clear view of your face until now. "Lovely to meet you Anakin," you smiled kindly at him. When he first met Padme, he believed her to be an angel but you, you must be a Goddess. When Padme looked back at him, he realized he was staring and snapped back to reality. "Lovely to meet you too Y/n," he politely smiled back.
Anakin would see a lot more of you after that day. He loved when you would join him and Padme on getaways such as going to the meadow for a picnic. You were so kind and bright, just what he needed for his inner darkness that has started to resurface in his nightmares. You made sure to involve him in conversations which he greatly appreciated. You made him feel like what he had to say mattered. You treated him like a friend, not a jedi bodyguard or a little boy. You saw him as Anakin.
The more he got to know you, the more he began to fall for you. To say he was upset when he had to leave would be an understatement. But before he left, you gave him a gift to remember you by. It was a yellow daisy, a reminder of the first day you two met. But it wasn't an ordinary yellow daisy, it was a yellow paper daisy that you made so it wouldn't die. Anakin told you he'd keep it forever and promised he would come back.
And he kept that promise. After the Battle of Geonosis, he returned and confessed his love for you. To his relief, you felt the same way. Finally, his feelings were reciprocated. It wasn't long before the two of you got married, in secret of course. You'd visit Coruscant often, your excuse being that you were visiting Senator Amidala. Though it wasn't a complete lie, you mostly went to visit your husband. After you became pregnant with twins, Anakin left the jedi and moved to Naboo to raise your family.
Everyday Anakin became more and more relieved with his decision. He never regretted his choice once. He loved his life with you and his children. He looks down at the yellow paper daisy you gifted him all those years ago and then back up at you. And he knew he had fallen in love with you all over again.
Anakin Skywalker who has an incredible long-term memory but an awful short-term memory. He is the type to remember something from years ago in painstaking detail—like the exact color of your dress the first time he saw you or a specific phrase you once said that made him laugh—but completely forget why he walked into a room five seconds ago.
He’d be so frustrated with himself, too:
«I can rebuild an entire podracer from memory, but I can’t remember where I put my damn lightsaber five minutes ago!»
If you would just tease him about it, his lips would twist into a pout;
“Well, at least I remembered the anniversary of our first kiss.” (Cue him smugly crossing his arms while you roll your eyes.)
Anakin Skywalker who has a diary that he writes in with a glittery gel pen;
He’d sit cross-legged on his bed in the quarters, hunched over the journal with the sparkly pen in hand, writing furiously:
«Mission Log: Obi-Wan still doesn’t get it. He says I’m reckless, but who saved his ass again today? Oh, right, me. Also, y/n smiled at me when I said goodbye, and I’m not saying it means anything, but maybe it does. Anyway, I need a new purple pen—this one’s running out of glitter ink.»
Anakin Skywalker's diary would be filled with doodles of podracers, little hearts around your name, and the occasional rant about sand;
Humming softly, he bent over the page, scrawling your name in his bold, messy handwriting. He frowned, mumbling under his breath about his uneven letters before shrugging it off. Next to your name, he started to doodle little hearts, as if each colorful heart was the show of his affection. Pink, silver, gold—he used every glittery color he had, filling the margin with love-struck decorations.
He paused, tapping the pen against his lips thoughtfully before scribbling, «You’re my favorite everything», right under your name. The ink shimmered in the dim light, catching his eye in a way that made him grin.
He felt ridiculous, like some love-struck teenager, but he didn’t care. This was for you, even if you’d never see it. A quiet, glittery tribute to the person who made the galaxy feel a little less dark.
A soft knock startled him, and his head snapped up, his heart skipping when your voice came through the door.
“Anakin? You still awake?”
Scrambling, he slapped the diary shut and stuffed it under his pillow, cheeks burning as he tried to change his expression into something casual. “Uh, yeah! Just… meditating!”
When the door slid open and you stepped in, his breath hitched. You were in your sleepwear, hair slightly tousled, and that soft smile on your face made him melt. You tilted your head, eyes narrowing playfully.
“Meditating, huh? With glitter on your fingers?”
He looked down, cursing under his breath at the sparkling pink smudge across his thumb. “Uh… yeah, it’s a new technique.”
Anakin Skywalker who has a sketchbook, where he draws A LOT of things. Podraces, you, ships, speeders, random people on the street
Anakin Skywalker who once brought you flowers after a mission;
He trudged through the Jedi Temple’s halls, boots barely making a sound on the polished floor as he fidgets with the bouquet in his hands. Well, bouquet was a generous term. It was more of a sorry-looking cluster of flowers, their once-vibrant petals now limp and pale, some barely clinging to their stems. A petal fluttered to the ground just as he took another step, and he stopped mid-step to glare at it, like he could will it back into place.
He groaned softly, running a hand through his messy curls, smearing a streak of dirt across his cheek. This had seemed like a good idea earlier. Why does everything he does fall apart before it even gets to you? His pout deepened as he plucked out the most shriveled flower, tossing it to the side with a defeated sigh.
Finally, he reached your chambers. Standing outside the door, he took a deep breath, smoothing down his tunic with his free hand and rearranging the flowers one last time. Maybe if he held them at just the right angle, you wouldn’t notice the sorry state they were in.
The door slid open, and there you were, rubbing sleep from your eyes, your expression softening the second you saw him.
“Ani?” you murmured, stepping aside to let him in.
His voice was unusually sheepish as he held out the flowers, eyes darting everywhere but your face.
“I, uh… I picked these for you. On my mission. But, um… they didn’t exactly survive the wait.”
You looked down at the wilted bouquet in his calloused hands, a few petals already scattered on the floor at his boots.
“They’re perfect,” you said softly, reaching for the flowers.
He blinked, pout fading into something almost hopeful. “You don’t have to say that. They look terrible—”
You cut him off with a kiss, lips pressing to his tenderly, hands resting on his chest. He stiffened for half a second before melting into you, his arms wrapping around your waist, the bouquet forgotten as it dangled by his side.
“You’re such a sweetheart,” you whispered against his lips, kissing him again for good measure.
He huffed, but his cheeks were pink, his free hand gently stroking your back. “I just… wanted you to know I was thinking about you. Even while I was out there. I saw them and thought you’d like them.”
“I love them,” you assured him, cradling his face in your hands, thumbs brushing over the dirt smudges on his cheek. “And I love you for bringing them to me, even if it meant walking through the Temple like this in the middle of the night.”
Anakin Skywalker who sneaked out with you to lower levels of coruscant;
As you passed by a flower stall, the vibrant colors caught his attention. He paused, eyes scanning the rows of flowers, before reaching out and plucking two purple blooms—one light lavender, the other a deep, rich violet.
“Perfect,” he murmured to himself, flashing you a smile as he walked back to you, holding the flowers gently.
“Here,” he tucked the lighter lavender flower behind your ear. Fingers lingered on your skin just for a moment, a little touch, a little enough to make your heart skip a beat. You giggled softly, cheeks flushing.
He grinned mischievously, then slid the darker flower into the breast pocket of his jacket. "For me," voice low, teasing.
You stared at him, smile widening as the warmth spread through you. “Now, that’s a perfect match,” you whispered, giggling.
“Mm-hmm,” the grin on his face stretched even wider. You could see the mischief dancing in his eyes, the way his lips curved up as if to say, «this is my favorite moment ever»
“Got it,” you said with a laugh, pressing your hands together like you were taking a picture in the air.
Anakin's face softened for a moment, and then a gleam sparkled in his eyes. “Wait, wait,” he said, holding his hands in front of him like he was about to snap a photo, just like you did. He mimicked your pose, grinning widely “Got it,” he repeated with a smirk.
Anakin Skywalker who as a young baby used to give you flowers from Jedi temple garden;
“This is for you!” he’d chirp, holding the flower up as if it were the most precious gift in the galaxy.
You’d kneel down to his level, heart melting into a puddle at how shyly he’d avert his gaze, cheeks tinged pink. “For me? It’s beautiful, Ani.”
His smile widened, bright enough to rival with the Coruscant sun. “I thought it’d look pretty on you,” he’d mumble before stepping closer, his small fingers fumbling to tuck it behind your ear.
Affection swelled in your chest as his fingers brushed against your skin, before he’d pull back to inspect his handiwork with thoughtful expression. “There,” he’d declare softly, looking utterly pleased with himself.
Your little arms would wrap tightly around his neck, voice muffled against his shoulder. “Thank you, Ani. You’re my favorite Jedi, you know that?”
“You’re my favorite everything.”
Anakin Skywalker who would eat most of your food he'd find in your chambers
Anakin Skywalker who smells like vanilla
Anakin Skywalker who loves when you stroke his back in the morning while he's still sleepy and just nuzzling to his pillow;
Soft, golden glow of the sunrise gently filtered through the curtains in your chambers , casting a gentle illumination across the side of the room. Anakin laid sprawled across the bed, body entangled in sheets. His breathing was slow and steady, tousled curls sticking to his forehead in a mix of shadows cast by the night and the faint morning light. You, propped up on one arm, tenderly stroked his back, fingertips gliding over his skin while time to time pressing gentle kisses to his bare shoulder. The sensation stirred his body slightly, and he shifted beneath your touch, acting like a contented puppy who curled up to enjoy the affection.
his words laced with a lazy, sleepy drawl. "Don’t stop," he murmured, a soft groan escaping his lips with his eyes remaining closed. With a gentle smile, you continued your gentle caresses, tracing small circles across his back, watching him shift and sigh while his muscles relaxed under your touch.
But as you took your hand away to change your position, he stirred once more, rolling onto his side to face you. His eyes were half-lidded and clouded with the remnants of sleep, a soft, pleading expression in his tone. "C'mon... more... please," his hand reaching out towards you, pulling you closer, fingers grazing along the sheets. You let out a soft chuckle, but without hesitation, drew closer to him and your hand shot out to find itself in his curls. With delicate fingers, you ran them through the soft strands, lightly massaging his scalp, causing a small hitch in his breath.
Anakin Skywalker who read tons of books, watched a lot of videos about gardening all to make you proud that he could seed tulips and make them grow
Anakin Skywalker who secretly sips on your coffee, always muttering that «sharing is caring»
Anakin Skywalker who makes «your mom» jokes
Anakin Skywalker who constantly hacks their stats in every video game he plays
Anakin Skywalker who uses the word «fuck» like a comma.
Anakin Skywalker who definitely has a roblox account and even though he's a softie, he bullies some kids there;
He logs in with the most ridiculous username, something like DarthSlayer69, and his avatar is over-the-top—dark cape, glowing red eyes, and a lightsaber accessory. He’s spent way too much time customizing it because, of course, he has to look intimidating.
And then? He enters some innocent game like Adopt Me! or Brookhaven and immediately starts causing mayhem.
"Get off my property, kid," he types in the chat, standing in front of a house he didn’t even buy.
In Tower of Hell, he’d purposely push people off platforms, then type: "Too slow. Guess you weren’t strong enough."
If anyone dared to clap back, he’d go full into fighting back; "Do you know who I am? I’ve fought in wars. You’re just a noob with bad Wi-Fi."
When you walk into the room while he’s cackling at his antics, you took one look at the screen, and roll your eyes.
"Anakin, are you bullying children again?"
"No, angel, I’m teaching them a valuable lesson." He'd say too smugly
Anakin Skywalker who uses two-in-one shampoo and conditioner yet still has the softest hair ever, which obviously makes you mad because you have to use tons of products to make your hair look decent.
Anakin Skywalker who fixes your lightsaber too often;
Anakin leaned back against the workbench, arms crossed over his chest, as he watched you sheepishly place your lightsaber in front of him. His expression was equal parts of amused and exasperated
"Again?" he drawled, raising an eyebrow.
You shrugged, avoiding his gaze as you fiddled with the hem of your tunic. "It... broke."
"It broke," he repeated, tone dripping with mock disbelief. He picked up the hilt, turning it over in his hands like inspecting some troublesome droid. "No, sweetheart, you broke it. What did you do this time? Smash it against a rock? Use it to pry open a door?"
"I didn’t!" you protested, immediately crossing your arms in self-defense. "I was fighting, and—"
"And you lost control," he finished for you, shaking his head with a chuckle. "You know, lightsabers are meant for precision. Not..." He gestured vaguely, as if mimicking you wildly flailing the weapon around.
Your face flushed at that, and you jabbed a finger at him. "Are you going to fix it or just stand there and tease me all day, Master Skywalker?"
At the sound of his full title, he grinned, as if it alone was enough to satisfy his ego. Setting the hilt down on the bench, he reached for his tools. "Oh, I’ll fix it. Like I always do. But you know..." He shot you a sly glance. Uh, oh.."If you keep this up, I’m going to start charging you."
"Charging me?" You blinked, incredulous. "With what? We don’t even use credits in the Order!"
He leaned in closer, smirk deepening. "Not credits, sweetheart. Favors." his eyes roamed down and up your body
Your stomach did a little flip "Favors?"
He nodded, picking up a small tool and starting to carefully disassemble the damaged saber. "Mm-hmm. Maybe you take over my chores for a week. Or you could cook dinner for once instead of ordering ration packs. Or..." He set the tool down and leaned in again, voice dropping to a near-whisper, eyes darting down to your lips. "You could just kiss me every time you break it."
you scoffed "That’s a ridiculous system," you muttered, but you didn’t pull away when he leaned even closer
"Is it?" he murmured, breath warm against your skin. "Seems fair to me. I put in the work, and I get a little reward."
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face. "Fine," you relented, leaning in to close the distance between you. Your lips brushed against his in a soft, quick peck, and you felt him smile against you.
When you finally pulled back, he looked far too pleased with himself.
"See?" tone smug. "Much better payment than credits."
the first time he fucks you, he can tell you’re a little freaked out by the way his generous size impales you. He’s picked up the pace after the initial aches of first-penetration wears off, and your curiosity leads you to look down and watch as his thick length pulls out, impossibly long, and then stuffs back inside, stretching you out beyond what you thought was possible, beyond any previous comfort levels. He’s literally impaling you, over and over and over, soft squelching sounds being met with each contact of your hips flushed together. It feels good— much better than what it looks like— and Anakin can tell it makes you nervous.
“Hey,” he calls your attention to him with his voice; your favorite sound in the world. He cups your jaw, gently guiding your face to look at him, his hold just strong enough to prevent you from being able to look down. “Eyes on me, alright? I’ve got you, just focus on me.” You have no choice but to stare at his face, his eyes, his lips, how pretty he looks, instead of the way his thick cock is messing up your insides below. Your muscles relax around him, not gripping quite so hard anymore, and it only makes the slide of his cock along your walls easier, heightening the pleasure for both of you.
“There you go,” he praises with a small uptilt of his mouth. True pride sparkles in his eye. “That’s my girl, doin’ so well. You trust me, right? Fuck, you’re so beautiful— feels nice, doesn’t it?”
“Uh-huh,” you cry, clinging to him. You have no choice but to let him envelop you completely; his voice in your ears, his face all you can see, his cock stuffed deep inside you. You’ve never felt so full, so stretched, never had anyone so deep—
It’s impossible to be scared with Anakin; he talks you through it the whole time. After all, he’d never let anything hurt you.
thoughts on anakin taking care of a very sick princess!reader? my minds going crazy with these thoughts
oh but ofc, i can always provide for anakin and princess!reader (see 🤍 and 🩷) they’re my favorites of all time!! fair warning i wrote this in increments during a work rush so it may be a bit everywhere lol.
for as decorated as he is on the battlefield, anakin skywalker is completely out of his element trying to care for you. but how he tries—he refuses to be unhelpful. he knows you have attendants and maidens to get you anything you may need or want, but they’re not him. they won’t do it as if it’s for themselves, won’t find solace in it, won’t yearn for your betterment in the way he does.
the jedi may have been able to teach him combat and rigid disciple, but his bedside manner could use some work. for one—he hovers. as constant a presence as the sheen sweat on your feverish skin. it doesn’t matter if you inform him, time and time again, that he’ll only end up as you are—he doesn’t care. he has to be around you. every sniffle, every whimper, every cough, and anakin’s there. his words always some variation of, “are you alright?” it’s supposed to be comforting, and it is, but it’s also persistent. unyielding.
maker help you if he feels you aren’t getting better fast enough. no palace medical team will ease his mind, not like his own droids. he’ll task r2 with keeping you company if he can’t, and he’d even assemble his own med droid in case of emergency. he’s nothing if not practiced in his overbearingness. and truly, you don’t have the energy to remind him that you’re a princess, raised to handle far worse than this. the thought of him being so concerned over something as mundane as a fever feels almost laughable—almost—he’s too doting for it to be anything but loving.
there’s something earnest in the way he moves about your chambers, almost tender, even if he’s clumsy about it. he tucks the copious blankets around you too tightly, grumbles about how the palace staff “should have noticed you were sick sooner!” and insists on making you eat even when the sight of any and all food makes your stomach churn—his idea of a ‘light broth’ is questionable, but you don’t have the heart to tell him.
“you’re not dying on my watch.” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you. there’s a dark cloud in his eyes—a mix of multitudes. anger at himself for not noticing you were unwell sooner, frustration that he can’t just fix this like he does everything else. you can see it in the way his jaw clenches, in the way he almost snaps at anyone who enters the room, as though guarding you from the very idea of illness itself.
but when the fever breaks and you’re finally lucid enough to really look at him, you notice the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders sag as he sinks into the chair beside you, “don’t scare me like that again.” he murmurs, voice soft and scattered, calloused hands gently brushing against yours.
and maybe it’s the remnants of your fever, but there’s something achingly sweet in the way he watches over you—like you’re the center of his universe, all fragile and precious. he’ll do anything to make sure you stay in such a state.
padawan/atoc era anakin x reader, they're in love with each other (both jedi) but obviously can't come forward. Anakin confides in Padmé, reader becomes convinced/jealous that anakin is with padme
(bonus points if you can make it angsty and fluffy)
As Easy As Breathing
Hi nonnie! Thank you so, so, so much for this rec! It’s my first one on this account and it’s really quite the christening. Hope its okay, I’m not the best at angst!
Pairing: Padawan!Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Reader (Star Wars)
Requested: Yes | No
Warnings: none!! Should be all good, let me know if you caught anything I may have missed. Not beta read!
Words: 1.8k
Author’s Notes: Anakin is canonically 19 in AOTC, reader is the same, maybe a year younger. Clone Wars have not yet started in this fic, I’m just assuming Padmé and Anakin stayed besties after the whole nonsense in Phantom Menace.
The warm sun filtering through the windows fell upon Anakin’s face, in a soft moment of solitude, the sounds of the Coruscant cityscape provided him with a brief reprieve to Padmé’s chastising. He often thought that his ability to talk to Padmé about anything was his strength, but in this moment he couldn’t help to think of it as a weakness. Anakin cringed as Padmé continued to berate him; On a rare afternoon off the nineteen-year-old padawan found himself lounging on the senator’s couch.
“Seriously Anakin, you should just-” Padmé stilled, her slender hands finding her hips, huffing, she continued, “Are you even listening to me, Ani?” The forceful tone on his nickname got Anakin’s attention once again.
“I am!” Anakin raised his eyebrows in addition to his hands, in mock surrender. “I swear Padmé!”
The senator found it easy to roll her eyes at his antics, like always. But she could see the change in Anakin, could see how his emotions for his fellow padawan learner have caused conflict in him. Her friend wasn’t sleeping, he wasn’t eating. Padmé knew Anakin was an intense person, a strong personality, everyone knew that about him. But this, this was different. He seemed lost, like he was missing something he needed to operate. Padmé found her way to the couch, sitting beside Anakin, grabbing his tanned, calloused hands in her own.
“Anakin, if you do truely care this strongly for her, you must tell her.” Anakin’s eyes found Padmé’s own. “It would be cruel, to withhold this love.” There was a time in Anakin’s life where this is all he wanted, being with Padmé and he knew his nine-year-old self would be so excited by innocent hand holding. But his nineteen-year-old self was happier to have such a strong, nonjudgemental friend.
“How did you know that you loved Sabé?” Anakin asked gently, knowing how the senator safeguarded her relationship with her handmaiden fiercely.
Anakin noted how Padmé seemed to glow at the mention of her lover. A warm smile graced her pink lips, eyes crinkling at the sides, a faraway glaze coated her sparkling eyes. Her signature in the force felt warm, it wrapped around Anakin’s brain, made him feel safe. Padmé’s love for Sabé was so tangible it extended outside herself, adjusting her force signature.
“I realised I loved Sabé when being around her became a necessity, an honesty, a truth that I did not know I was constantly seeking out.” Padmé gushed, a light trail of pink lit itself over her high cheekbones and freckled nose. “I felt as if Sabé had breathed new life into me everytime I saw her, it was natural, it was right.”
Anakin was quiet for a moment, Padmé became worried that she had overstepped somehow, projected to far onto Anakin’s feelings.
“Loving y/n is as natural as breathing.” He replied.
Anakin rolled over on his hard, standard issue, Jedi temple bed. A sleepless night was not uncommon for him, but this felt inherently different. Padmé’s words from earlier in the day rattled around his brain, demanding to be dealt with. Anakin never saw love as a weakness, never saw attachment as weakness. How could he? Love was the basis of the light, the well of Jedi power that Anakin drew from was a labour of love, was purity, was peace, was built with empathy and centered by knowing himself. His love for you did not make him a bad person.
But he knew it would make him seem like a bad Jedi.
Not knowing your stance on him, on the rule of attachment was slowly eating away at Anakin’s peace.
Groaning aloud, Anakin ran his hands down his face.
Your head whipped around, anxiously. You knew it was embarrassing that you always looked for him in a crowded room, but you could not help it, you felt as if the force was electric until he calmed it. His signature singlehandedly smothering anything else it came in contact with. Being around Anakin, to you, felt as natural as breathing.
“Looking for young Skywalker, are you?” Your master, Mace Windu asks, a small smirk whispers across his face, lightly nudging you in the shoulder. The two of you stood in one of the reception rooms of the Republic building. The Senate was hosting a charity gala with the invite extending to the Jedi temple. So, there you stood, in your best robes, breaking your neck to catch a glimpse of The Chosen One.
“No Master.” You said, quietly. Turning your head away from the powerful Jedi Master to not embarrass yourself further with the luxury of him catching your furious blush. Your master excused himself, laughing, finding Master Plo Kloon.
So, you stood there, alone, foolishly searching the room for your fellow padawan, the one that consumed your mind and soul.
It wasn’t completely unlikely, you reasoned with yourself. You and Anakin were friends, were very well matched, sparring partners. But, Anakin was a good Jedi. A strong Jedi. Following orders wasn’t Anakin’s strongest suit, you’d admit. Pondering whether he would disregard the rules of attachment for you, however, was different.
Nonetheless, like a junkie craving death sticks, you craved Anakin’s presence, his force signature was all you needed to feel right. The anxiety of the gala was too much. Closing your eyes, tightly, you reached out into the force to find him. Anakin’s signature, golden like it always was flocked to your senses, like always.
Opening your eyes, you began to weave through the bustling crowd as quickly as one could who was masquerading as casual.
“I’m not going to say anything to her now, Padmé.” Anakin huffed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms across his chest, defensively. “Not in front of all these people, you’ve got to be joking.” He scoffed.
Sabé giggled quietly, the two women joined their arms at the elbow. Padmé just rolled her eyes at Anakin’s supposed insoclence.
Your frame weaving through the crowd in his direction caught Anakin’s eye. He smiled, quikly raised a hand, and was delighted when your devastating smile echoed back.
“Anakin.” You greeted him, with a small bow of the head. His name sounded heavenly whenever you deigned to let it fall from your lips. Anakin was convinced he could breathe easier with you around, like he had been purged of something suffocating him.
“Y/N, this is Sen-” You quickly cut him off, not wanting to hear the name of your rival come from his beautiful mouth. Your jealousy that you held for Padmé reared its ugly head, and you couldn’t help to feel shame burn deep inside the space between ribs.
“Senator Amidala, a pleasure it is to finally meet you,” You stuck your hand out, awkwardly hoping for a handshake. “Anakin has told me so much.” Cordial. It was a good tactic. You were a good person, a good jedi. You would not succumb to jealousy. Besides, Padmé had other qualities you were far more jealous of than just her nonexistent romantic relationship that you deludedly conjured up in your mind when you tried to sleep at night.
“All good things I should hope.” She smiled, her soft hand finding your own, a small shake. You could empathise with Anakin for falling in love with someone like her. Someone so intelligent, powerful, beautiful.
It was not lost on you, the way the senator’s hand quickly found the one of the woman she stood beside.
“This is Sabé.” Anakin started, introducing Padmé’s guest. “Padmé’s hand-” For the second time tonight, but surely not the last, Anakin was cut off.
“My partner.” Senitor Amidala said firmly, though her eyes twinkled with pride. Sabé’s own shock manifested itself into a wide smile. The two looked eachother in the eyes and you couldn’t help but feel silly. Of course. Of course.
For whatever reason, the words you thought you had died swiftly in your mouth, “Oh.” was all you managed to get out. “A pleasure to meet you too, Sabé.” You tried quickly to save the situation, to save embarrassment. But Padmé’s slight smile, Sabé’s coy smirk. You felt like the two Naboo women knew you, saw you. They somehow, in this embarrassing blunder of a meeting had already clocked that you harboured feelings for Anakin Skywalker. It made you feel foolish, moreso than what you already did.
“If you’d excuse us, Jedi, we have futher business to attend to.” Sabé quipped strongly, leading her senator lover to the next group of politicians. The art of smalltalk was something else you could add to the list of Padmé’s items you were jealous of.
Anakin turned to you, chuckling. His standard-issue Jedi robes moving effortlessly with his chest. Running a hand through his cropped hair, you felt his eyes scanning your face. You knew your blood would betray you, like it so often did around your friend, rising to the surface of your cheeks, splattering down your neck and chest. Embarrassment clung to you like a rash.
“Don’t mind them, they like setting me up.” Anakin scoffed, shaking his head.
“Setting you up for what?” You asked, eyeing him micheviously. Chatting with Anakin felt natural; He was quick witted and liked challenging you, he was a tease.
And, more often than not, a flirt.
This was different though, Anakin had an air of nervousness about him. You noticed as your fellow padawan’s large, veiny hands found the way to the back of his neck, rubbing sheepishly.
“Oh you know…” He trailed off, looking everywhere except for your eyes, his own blue ones scanning the ornate ceiling of the reception room. “Setting us up to be alone together.” He admitted, squinting as if the words bought him some kind of physical pain.
You quirked a brow, your arms quickly crossing your chest - a defensive stance. “Would that be so bad? Being alone together?” The words meant to be teasing, non-serious. But it was too late, the seed was planted in Anakin’s brain.
To him, that felt like an admission of sorts, an admission that you wanted him as much as he wanted you. Well, if he squinted it seemed like that.
In a tender moment, something rare for Anakin, he reached out. Tucking stray hairs behind your ear, gently following your padawan braid around the cusp of it.
“You know, y/n, that I want nothing more,” He smiled. It was pure, and real. You felt the sincerity in the force, the truth within him. Moreso, you felt your ear burn from the brief contact, felt your heart swell in your chest at the mere thought of being alone in close quarters with him. “I want nothing more than to be alone with you.”
He retracted his hand, but you still felt alight with his closeness. His force signature felt palpable, you were enraptured in his warmth. He was golden. Your golden boy.
“Why don’t we go get lost then?” You whispered, scared anything too loud would betray your eagerness. Anakin’s smile split across his face, eyes crinkling and dimples showing. Smirking he placed a strategic hand at the low of your back. He was so incredibly tall, bending over you to whisper back,
“After you, my lady.”
—--
AN: Hehe all done! Left it open for more if you wanted, but teasing enough to be left as it is! Hope it’s alright and I hope you could enjoy at least some of it <3
P.S This is a side account, my main is @mayhemories, so I will be answering any comments with that account but rest assured it is still me :) <3
100% fluff, soft!ani normal au. requested by @garbagebomb. prompt : “your hands are freezing.” ᝰ masterlist
autumn was blossoming around you, it was still relatively warm. colors changing around you, like you were placed in a halloween centered film. you were walking the city streets with your boyfriend, anakin skywalker.
you pointed out a couple of birds on a telephone wire, the last of the season. anakin smiles sweetly down at you, grabbing your hand to interlock your fingers.
“your hands are freezing,” anakin basically chided you, taking both of your hands in his. stopping your stroll, under an oak tree.
it was romantic, the warmth of his hands mixing with the coolness of yours. the tree casted beautiful shadows over anakin’s face, it makes you want to smile and pull him close. the darkened colors of the leaves, complimented his skin and hair wonderfully.
“they always are, ani.” you giggle, swinging his and your hands back and forth. he pulls you closer, letting your arms wrap around him as he pushes a kiss to forehead.
“well, I'm gonna have to get my girl some gloves then, huh?”
ׁ ֶָ֢ ⏤͟͟͞͞☕️ ׁ ࣭ warnings ! ۪ ׁ ⊹ || Aftercare, adult themes, implied sex, fluff, pet names, Anakin is significantly stronger than the reader, "good girl".
“Ready to get up, sweet thing?” Anakin combs through the knots in your hair, gently tidying your disheveled locks, holding you in a protective embrace.
His skin is still heated from all the love making he’s been rewarding you with. A while of pleasure later, your body is left frail and quivering in his arms. It always ends the same — you laying on his chest, trying to gather your mind and soul back in place after he’s done tormenting you with bliss. You hold him tighter, clinging for life to have a few more moments in the safety of his grasp.
Anakin chuckles at your desperate for affection state. “Alright, angel.” He’s gentle and patient — he’d never rush you, not for this.
You sigh in relief, following the pace of his heartbeat, you calm down. Once he’s done combing through your hair, his big hand rests on the back of your head, shielding you from all the insecurities you might be feeling. There is no anxiety when he holds you, and the bruises he’s left on your skin seem to stop aching.
“Sweet thing…” Anakin sighs and caresses your shoulder blade gently. “I know how exhausted you are, but we need to clean you up before you sleep, yeah?” He coos into your ear, pressing a kiss on your temple.
“Okay…” You sigh, only then realizing how hoarse your voice is.
“Good girl.” He mutters a praise that tingles your whole body, no matter how many times he’s used it to describe you before. Being his good girl was your favorite activity.
Anakin lifts you off the bed with ease; the sheets are damp, and you shiver from the absence of warmth surrounding you. He holds you close to his chest without you having to struggle to support yourself — as if he always saves enough strength to nurture you.
Soon enough, your sweaty body is cleaned and dried, the red fingerprints on your hips eased with gentle kisses, and shivers calmed with a warm lilac blanket around your shoulders. You are left seated on a chase lounge, wrapped up and dressed in your favorite floral pajama: a loose tank top with a small bow in the front and matching shorts — all Ani’s doings. You sip on a glass of water as he is busy changing the sheets of your bed.
“Are you hungry, angel?” He raises the duvet up in the air and lets it fall gracefully onto the bed before turning to you.
“Mmm, no. Unless for kisses.” You give him a shy smile.
“Greedy girl, haven’t I kissed you enough?” He crouches beside you and boops your nose, making your face scrunch. “No, of course I haven’t…”
Placing the water glass aside, you reach for him without any shame. You’re needy, and he’s to take care of it; it’s always been like that. He lets you wrap your arms around his neck and lifts you up, letting the blanket fall off you as he carries you back to bed. You could walk, of course, but why would you? Anakin was there, and he loved nothing more than to pamper his pretty princess. He climbs under the sheets, cradling your body against him. He was ridiculously strong, but there was only comfort in the strength difference; it was never alarming or overwhelming.
“I love you, my angel; do you realize how much?” He nestles you close to himself, like a precious jewel he wants to keep from all the harm.
You were his treasure, and it wasn’t just because you allowed him physical pleasure; you were the comfort and softness in his world of struggles and nighttime tremors. With you beside him, he always slept peacefully, and all he wanted was to fill your life with just as much paradise.
“And I love you, Ani.” Was all you could muster to whisper as your body was lulled to rest.
Anakin smiled to himself, knowing he had his world right there with him. Like every other night, he soothed and kissed every part of you he could reach until his own body was too weak to resist the night.
