alright guys picture this: anakin wearing the most perfect pair of blue jeans you've ever seen with a white t shirt and old boots. sitting on a motorcycle. no ride gear to protect him, just a helmet with a blackout visor, leaving you unable to even see his face when he pulls up next to you at the rest stop while you're stretching your legs. something about him though forces your eyes onto him, watching subtly as he swings his leg over the bike and stretches his arms above his head, shirt coming up to his bellybutton as he does so - revealing two dagger tattoos on either hip bone. when he pulls his helmet off, you tear your eyes away hesitantly, face turning pink at the realization that he probably saw you staring. you fiddle with your lighter, clumsily lighting a cigarette and inhaling, very aware that his eyes are now on you.
mind if i use your lighter? he asks, pulling a slightly squished pack of his own cigarettes from his pocket.
oh, uh sure you reply, handing it over, instantly flustered.
thanks, he nods at you, cupping a large hand over the lighter. this your car? he asks, handing your neon pink lighter back to you, and gesturing to your old nova.
yeah, it is you smile, watching him. something about the way he moves, the way he speaks - it's mesmerizing.
it's gorgeous. you must take good care of it he stares at the car.
thank you, i do almost nothing to it but my dad takes good care of it for me. it was his before it was mine. you admit. cool bike you say, wishing you knew the slightest bit about motorcycles so you could give a more meaningful compliment. all you know is it's black, and it's not a harley. it's some type of sport bike.
thank you, you ever been on one? he asks, smirking a little.
just once, my friend's brother has one and took me, but he went a little too fast for my liking. you say, furrowing your brow at the memory. he almost got you killed, arrested, or both that night.
yeah definitely gotta work up to the high speeds, not for your first time. he says, looking back to you and maintaining intense eye contact. i'm anakin, by the way. he extends his right hand for a handshake, which you oblige.
nice to meet you, i'm y/n. you reply, shifting on your feet. you aren't in a hurry to get back on the road; you're just heading back home after spending the weekend with a friend out of town
you from around here? he asks, confidence oozing from him. you aren't really the type to just go up and approach people, or start conversations. and his confidence doesn't seem like arrogance either, he just seems beyond comfortable with himself. either that, or he can feel your attraction to him from where he stands.
yeah, i am. just heading back to town now you gesture north, to your hometown. was visiting a friend that moved a couple hours away. you?
nah, i'm from arizona originally. hated it there, been here about 3 years. he explains, and you lean against your car, settling in for what turns out to be a half-hour long conversation, and he makes you laugh more than you've laughed in a long time.
i hate to say it but i should get back on the road. gotta make some dinner, get ready for the week you force yourself to say eventually, and he nods.
or you can let me pick you up at 7 he suggests like it's an obvious choice, and honestly, it kind of is. you glance at your watch. it's 4pm now, giving you plenty of time to get ready.
i mean, if you want to, sure. can we ride the bike? you ask, smiling bashfully.
but of course. can i have your number? he asks, a hint of nervousness finally showing. you nod and type it into his phone.
text me, i'll send you my address, see you at 7. you say, part of you doubting that this is real, but most of you hoping it is.
sounds good, get home safe.
after receiving texts confirming that anakin was in fact serious about taking you out, and instructions to wear denim and long sleeves for bike safety purposes, you are ready and waiting embarrassingly early. early enough that the only thing you can do to kill the time is worry that this is a bad idea, and that he could be a murderer, or that the bike may crash, or that he was a figment of your imagination. but the worries help the time pass, and before you know it, it's 6:57, and the sound of a motorcycle approaching your house pulls you out of the concern. you expect to get a text saying to come outside, but instead you get a knock on your front door, and open it to reveal that anakin is very much not a figment of your imagination. he's real, and he somehow looks even better than he did at the rest stop. still in jeans, but now in a black hoodie with a jacket on top.
hi you breathe out, thanks for picking me up
of course. you look really pretty. he says, almost hesitating, his face flushed
oh, thank you you look down at yourself briefly, at what you thought was a pretty simple outfit. you lock your front door and follow him to the bike, which now has a backseat on it.
okay, here's your helmet, he says, holding up a matching one to his. it has bluetooth connection to mine, so we'll be able to talk to each other. you nod, listening intently. he slides the bulky helmet over your head gently, ever-so-slightly wiggling it back and forth to ensure it's a snug fit. tilt your head back for me he instructs, voice soft. you obey, craning your neck. only your eyes are exposed with the visor up, and you watch him closely while he fiddles with your chinstrap, feeling the urge to get closer to him, touch him, anything. but you hold back for now. alright, you're all set, does that feel okay? he asks, taking his jacket off and putting it over your shoulders, prompting you to put your arms through the sleeves. it's a funny material, and you figure it's some sort of biker gear.
yeah, thank you. he smiles, and starts to walk you through backseat procedures. lean with him during turns, where to put your hands when he brakes, etc. finally, he puts his helmet on, and gets on, holding out an arm for you to hold onto for balance while you get on.
alright, ready? he asks, his voice coming in your ear via the helmets. you wrap your arms tightly around his belly, leaning in.
yeah, promise you won't kill me you giggle, flipping your visor down quickly to avoid the wind in your eyes.
i promise, pretty girl. he says, then takes off down your street, headed towards the highway to take you to the burger drive in you two had agreed on while texting.
the half hour to get there makes you realize that your friend's brother truly is a dumbass, and may have even scared you on purpose. anakin is careful, and checks in frequently. even when he does get fast on the highway, he lets you know before, and it doesn't last long. it's way more enjoyable this time, and you find yourself craving more - chasing the adrenaline. once you're back on the city streets, at a stop light, you both sit up for a moment after leaning forward. he puts his hands on your icy ones, fully enveloping them in his.
shit, i should've grabbed you gloves he says, guiding your hands into his hoodie pocket, where they start warming up quickly. you alright? his hands move to your thighs, rubbing them back and forth slowly, sending a chill down your spine.
oh it's okay, we're almost there. i'm good you smile, pushing your legs the tiniest bit closer to him, like he's a magnet that you can't pull away from.
the burger drive in is right by the water, so once you get your food, the two of you find a picnic table on the boardwalk and dig in, helmets next to each of you on your respective benches.
did you have fun on the ride? you're a good passenger he asks, popping a fry into his mouth.
so much fun, you can go faster if you want on the way back you suggest slyly, hiding your smile by taking a bite. what made me a good passenger?
careful what you wish for, he chuckles you just caught on really quick with the leaning, and bracing when i brake and stuff. i took my sister one time and she absolutely freaked out. although to be fair, i went pretty slow this time. he explains.
you seem like you know what you're doing, i trust you to go a little faster, but don't go crazy you say, pointing your finger at him, feigning command.
alright alright, have you ever driven one? he asks, laughing at your attempt at being stern.
no, i have no idea how. maybe you'll have to teach me you suggest, finding a drop of confidence among the sea of nervousness to be on a date with anakin.
i definitely will have to. he agrees, smirking.
on the way home, you boldly decide to put your freezing hands under his hoodie and shirt, so they're against his bare stomach, right where you know those dagger tattoos sit. he shivers and leans into your touch, taking one hand off the handle to grab your thigh gently.
wanna go fast? he asks into the headset, getting on the on-ramp to the highway.
let's do it you say, holding on tighter. he leans forward, and you follow suit, then he's off. you watch the speedometer go 90, 100, 110, 120, then hover there for a few minutes, while he stays in the far left lane of the luckily nearly empty highway. you let a small squeal of excitement leave your mouth, earning a chuckle from him.
the adrenaline is still high in your system when you pull up in front of your house, and when you pull your helmet off, he sees your goofy smile and is clearly very satisfied with himself.
that smile is worth risking a speeding ticket he says, reaching out and smoothing down your hair, and taking the helmet from your hand. he takes his own off, then walks you to the front door.
thank you, this was so fun you say, wanting so badly to invite him in.
anytime, seriously. i'm glad you had a good time. he smirks, hands finding your waist and pulling you close, forcing you to bend your neck to maintain eye contact. you look at him with giddy eyes for a moment before he leans down and kisses you, a large hand gentle on your cheek, fingers in your hair. and you know that you'll be chasing this feeling as long as he'll let you.
