#angelreqs

- im identifying as 🐇 now and you can not stop me Nina..

—❝loves in quiet ways❞

anakin skywalker x reader

tw ; nothing, just pure fluff

a/n ; hmm.. i wonder who this anon is.. IM GIGGLING. ALSO GUYS PLEZ. IM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG IM TAKING TO DO THESE REQUESTS. I SWEAR IM WRITING THEM ALL PLZZZZ. DONT CANCEL ME. i hope you all enjoy this, angels <3

THE SUN WAS SOFT THAT AFTERNOON, DRAPING THE JEDI TEMPLE GARDENS IN A GOLDEN KIND OF QUIET. The stone paths were warm beneath your boots, the hum of distant speeders barely cutting through the sound of birdsongs and rustling leaves. 

There was a breeze, light and playful, threading through the tall grasses and swaying the heads of the flowers that lined the edges of the courtyard. It smelled like Naboo, somehow—like sun-warmed petals and something fresh and green.

It always started the same way.

You’d be walking through the Temple grounds—usually after a training session with your Master, sometimes on your way to the Archives, once even after a really boring mission debrief—and out of nowhere, Anakin would slow down beside you as you two were walking together. His eyes would wander a bit, like he wasn’t really listening anymore. You used to think he was zoning out. Turns out, he was just looking for flowers.

The first time it happened, you right were here in the Temple gardens. You were mid-sentence about something pretty boring—which was the ridiculous size of the new training droids—when you noticed Anakin had stopped listening entirely. You were about to call him out when he suddenly turned to you, completely unbothered, holding the softest-looking flower between his fingers. It was a small flower—soft blue petals, barely bigger than his thumb.

“Hold still,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the galaxy.

You blinked a few times in confusion, but didn’t move an inch—just tilted your head questioningly as he stepped in close, your eyes looking up at him. 

He reached up with one hand and carefully tucked the flower behind your ear, his fingertips brushing your skin so lightly it made your breath catch.

You stood there staring up at him, heart tripping over itself, while he just smiled at you like you’d hung every single star in the sky.

“Perfect,” he said, quietly. Not looking at the flower, but instead looking at you.

You could feel your cheeks warming up, a rosy blush covering your face, but it was still impossible to look away from him. His gaze was so open, so full, that it made your stomach twist in the best kind of way. 

“You’re ridiculous.” You murmured as your lips quirked up at the corners, trying to sound casual.

His own lips twitched like he was fighting back a smile. “Can you blame me?”

He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like tucking flowers behind your ear was as natural to him as breathing. And maybe it was.

“I like seeing you with something soft,” he added after a beat, voice quieter now. “Like… Like the world should treat you just as gently.”

Your stomach was filled with butterflies in that moment, and it was hard to hide the way your eyes twinkled with adoration for him.

And all he did was smile at you. That small, boyish one. The one that only ever reached his eyes when he was looking at you.

Since then, it’s just become a thing of his now.

Sometimes he does it in passing, like it’s muscle memory now. You’ll be walking towards the mess hall, or sitting on a bench in the courtyard, or leaning over a datapad—and suddenly, there’s Anakin, plucking a tiny bloom from somewhere and tucking it behind your ear like it belongs there.

Like you belong to him, in this small, soft, secret kind of way.

No one else notices. Or if they do, they pretend not to—like Obi-Wan, for instance.

Maybe because it's Anakin, and he knows better than to ask about whatever storm or sun is brewing behind those eyes.

But when he's with you? It's never stormy. Just warm. 

Soft. Reverent. 

A little shy, even.

The way he looks at you every time he does it… stars. It’s like you’ve undone him without even trying. Like he’s seeing the whole galaxy and somehow you’re still the brightest thing in it.

There’s no smirk on his face, ever. No cocky comment. Just that stupidly soft smile you adore and those eyes—so full of something that looks so dangerously close to love.

Once, you caught him doing it when you were barely paying attention. A little wildflower tucked behind your ear, and he stared at you for a second longer than usual.

“What?” You asked, trying not to grin.

“Nothing,” he said, but his voice was too full of feeling for it to mean nothing. “You’re just… beautiful.”

And you couldn’t even pretend to tease him for it, because your heart was doing backflips, and you knew his was too. Because for all his bravado and charm, Anakin loves in quiet ways—in flowers and looks and touches that said everything he couldn’t out loud.

And even now, with the war growing louder, and the galaxy heavier, he still finds time. Still finds flowers. Still finds you.

Because loving you is the only thing that’s ever felt easy. 

And he’d rather die than let go of that. 

Rather die than let go of you.

@thesassypadawan @anakinstwinklebunny @sydkneez @dessxoxsworld @nikiloveshayden @anisangeldust @sweetcheesecakesblog @throughparisallthroughrome @ysrjune @fredswrite @divineani

It can be on Alderaan or Naboo wherever you prefer.

The reader can be a princess

—❝every star in the galaxy❞

anakin skywalker x reader

tw ; nothing, just pure fluff

a/n ; I FEEL LIKE I ALWAYS DISAPPEAR FOR MONTHS AND THEN REAPPEAR IM SO SORRY LMFAOAO 😭 i'm so sorry these requests are so delayed, i genuinely have been so busy and my writers block is so intense. BUT IM BACK, WRITING ALL REQUESTS, AND TAKING THEM AGAIN, SO MAKE SURE U SEND IN UR REQUESTS CUTIES. i hope you all enjoy this, angels <3

THE SUN WAS WARM ON NABOO THAT AFTERNOON—GENTLE AND GOLDEN. It was the kind that made you want to stretch out in a field and forget the rest of the galaxy existed. And, for once, Anakin had let you pull him away from everything. No comms, no strategy meetings, no troopers needing orders. Just you, him, your love, and the open meadow dotted with wildflowers.

The basket you packed was practically forgotten by now, just a few feet away, and half-emptied. Anakin had eaten exactly one pastry you made this morning before mumbling something about being tired and dropping straight into the grass with a groan. You’d tried not to laugh as he made himself comfortable, his head ending up in your lap like it belonged there.

Which, at this point, it does.

So many nights and days have been spent with his head on your lap, with your fingers carding gently through his hair. It's a solace of his he's never thought he'd ever get to experience. But, Force, he thanks the stars that he does.

It's what he looks forward to every time he gets to come back home to you. The feeling of your warm embrace and your touch, letting him know that he's finally safe.

Now he was dozing, one arm lazily wrapped around your lower back as you sit up in the grass, the other draped across his chest. His breathing was slow and even, and you could tell by the way his fingers twitched every now and then that he wasn’t fully asleep, but definitely far enough to let his eyes get the rest they desperately need.

You run your fingers through his soft, sandy curls, brushing them back from his forehead as the breeze rolled over the field. A soft smile pulled at the edges of your lips as you picked a few of the little flowers near your legs—daisies, mostly—and started tucking them gently into his hair. It was dumb. Silly. But he looked so peaceful like this, how could you resist?

And it definitely doesn't help how angelic he looks just about now. How could he ever be the one to call you an angel when he looks like this?

He mumbled something under his breath as you brushed a petal against his cheek, gently weaving them into his hair.

“Hm?” You hum questioningly, your thumb caressing his cheek gently. 

“’S nothing,” he murmured, still barely awake. “Keep doing that.”

You bit back a smile, brushing your fingers through his hair again, this time more deliberately. He sighed so gently, the way it sounded so reverent in it's own way. Like it was the first time he’d let himself exhale all week. 

It was a relieving contrast, seeing him like this. The man who usually stood so cocky and commanding, voice sharp and full of purpose, now curled into you like a tired little boy. His boots were off, his tunic soft and rumpled from where you’d tugged it earlier, teasing him for still dressing like he was about to lead his battalion into a war.

“You don’t look like a general right now,” you said softly, just thinking out loud as your fingers trace his every delicate feature. 

One of his lids opened, letting you see one of those ocean eyes that hold so much depth to them, the very ones you fell so deeply in love with.

The way he looked up at you held so much passion, that it was hard to express, and it made your very heart tighten. How could a man love so deeply, that you can see it even with only one of his eyes?

The corners of his mouth twitch, opening both eyes now as his lashes flutter a little, trying to blink the drowsiness away. “Good.” He murmurs.

You blinked. “Good?” You ask, a small laugh in your voice. 

Anakin shifted a little, turning his face so his cheek was pressed fully against your thigh, as that boyish grin you love so much appears on his face. “I don’t want to be a general when I’m with you.”

His tone hit you in a way you weren’t expecting. It's so gentle, honest. So utterly adoring. 

You let yourself trace the edge of his jaw with your thumb, watching the way his eyes fluttered closed again, thick lashes resting. “Then what are you when you’re with me?”

He was quiet for a moment, taking in deep breaths as he relishes in the peace—the peace of you.

“Just… me.” He replies in a whisper. 

While his words are so simple, you know him well enough to know how much meaning they really convey. And truly, he finds that he can just be when he's with you—that he can show his flaws and not be berated for them like he's been his whole life. That you'll love him despite it all, and that's everything to him.

Your heart did a little flip. You didn’t say anything, just leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. He hummed in approval and relaxed even further, like he could melt right into you.

After a while, his voice floated up again, low and drowsy. “Are there flowers in my hair?”

“Maybe.”

He huffed, but there was no real protest. “You’re ridiculous.” He grins, though you know he doesn't mean it. If anything, he's enjoying this. A little too much at that. 

“And you’re beautiful.” You giggle, twirling one of his curls around your pointer finger.

The sound is music to his ears, and it makes his grin only grow wider. He's really found his peace. What would he do without that melodic sound that keeps him tethered to this very ground?

“You’re making it really hard to go back to the Temple after this,” he said, voice barely above a whisper now.

You kissed the top of his head and smiled against his curls. “Good.” You whisper back, wanting to keep him here in your arms forever. He's always told you that's a dream of his, to be able to never leave your embrace.

It's moments like these that Anakin knows he's found his home in a person. He cherishes these memories with every piece of him, and enjoys them with every fragment of his heart. 

How could he not? He's with the woman he loves more than every star in the galaxy combined, the one he holds so dearly. The one that he breathes the very air for, lives his life to see. Just your presence lights a flame in his heart he doesn't know if he deserves. 

But you let him know he deserves it, you always do. 

And under the blue Naboo sky, Anakin let himself rest—knowing he's safe, loved, and wrapped in a kind of peace he didn’t think he’d ever be able to have. Not in this life.

But somehow, with you, he's able to.

@thesassypadawan @anakinstwinklebunny @sydkneez @dessxoxsworld @nikiloveshayden @sweetcheesecakesblog @throughparisallthroughrome @fredswrite @divineani

—❝achingly gentle❞

anakin skywalker x reader

tw ; nothing, just pure fluff

a/n ; GUYS I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN'T POSTED ANYTHING IN AGES 😭 i got WAYYY too caught up in my work after that little.. incident.. with my arm.. BUT WE ARE BACK. i hope you all enjoy this, angels <3

THE SUN HAD LONG SINCE DIPPED BELOW THE CORUSCANT SKYLINE. The air carried a quiet chill, whispering against your skin. Training had gone on too long, the heat of the battle between you and Anakin now cooled to nothing but tired limbs and unsteady breaths.

The first time you truly felt it—felt just how much bigger he was, how easily he could envelop you—it was in something as simple as a borrowed cloak.

You hadn’t even noticed the way your body shivered, hadn’t paid any mind to the way the wind nipped at your sweat-damp clothes—until his warmth was draped over you.

Anakin’s cloak was heavy, impossibly so. The fabric smelled like him—something grounding, something safe. It pooled around your shoulders, its sheer weight pulling you downward, sleeves swallowing your hands, the hem nearly brushing the ground.

You turned, peering up at him from beneath the oversized hood, and found him watching you with that slow, knowing smirk—the kind that sent warmth curling through your chest.

“You look ridiculous,” he teased, reaching out to tug the cloak tighter around you.

You scoffed, struggling to push the sleeves up enough to free your hands. “It’s not my fault you’re built like a krayt dragon.”

Anakin hummed, stepping closer, so close that you had to tilt your head back just to meet his gaze. The sheer size of him was something you had always known—felt in the way he stood, in the way his presence filled a room, in the way his arms caged around you when he fought to protect you. But here, like this, his height, his strength, his warmth—it was undeniable.

A playful determination sparked in your chest. You lifted your hands—your small, ridiculous hands when compared to his—and pressed them against his chest, shoving with all your might.

He didn’t move. Not even an inch.

You blinked.

Anakin raised an eyebrow, so unbearably smug. “Was that supposed to do something?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I was testing a theory.”

“And?”

“I don’t like the results.”

His laughter was warm, that boyish yet infuriating grin you love so much appearing on his features. And then, before you could escape the embarrassment of your failed attempt at moving him, he reached out and grabbed your wrist. “And what did you learn?”

Your breath caught. His thumb traced a slow, absentminded circle along the inside of your wrist, warm and steady. He lifted your hand, turning it so your palm pressed against his.

The difference was laughable.

His fingers stretched far past yours, the breadth of his palm nearly double in size. His hand was strong, calloused from years of wielding a saber, yet so achingly gentle as he laced his fingers through yours. Your hand looked so small in his hold, fragile in a way that made something deep in his gaze soften.

You swallowed, a sudden shyness creeping in. “That you’re unfairly large.”

Anakin let out a low chuckle, his voice a warm vibration beneath your fingertips. “Or maybe you’re just unfairly small.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but before you could, he did something unexpected—something that sent your heart stuttering.

He lifted your intertwined hands and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your knuckles.

The touch was featherlight, reverent, as if he was memorizing the shape of you, the feel of you, in the only way he knew how. His lips were warm against your skin, his breath a whisper of heat that sent shivers racing down your spine.

Your fingers twitched against his, tightening ever so slightly.

Anakin’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, pure and utter adoration flickering behind them.

A pause. A heartbeat suspended in time.

And then—

“Come on,” he murmured, his voice softer now, a thread of something deeper woven into it. “Let’s get inside before you disappear completely in my robes.”

His fingers tightened around yours, a silent promise, a tether, a warmth that chased away the cold.

And with your hand still safely tucked in his, you let him lead you to the safe haven you two call home.

@thesassypadawan @anakinstwinklebunny @sydkneez @dessxoxsworld @nikiloveshayden @sweetcheesecakesblog @throughparisallthroughrome

—❝so utterly consuming❞

anakin skywalker x reader

tw ; nothing, just pure fluff

a/n ; I LOVE THIS PROMPT SO SO MUCH ANGEL LIKE ITS SO.. SIGH. LIKE ITS JUST A NEED. but yah anyway... enjoy, angels <33

THE SKY OUTSIDE THE WINDOW IS PAINTED IN BREATHTAKING HUES OF GOLD, PINK, AND SOFT ORANGE. The setting sun casts a warm glow over the cityscape of Coruscant, with the light filtering into the penthouse. It stretches long shadows across the floor, wrapping everything in a golden embrace. The air is calm, carrying the distant hum of speeders passing by, a stark contrast to the uneasiness you hold, still waiting for Anakin to get home. You hear the door hiss open behind you, and instinctively, you turn—only to find Anakin standing there, looking like he’s been through hell and back. His Jedi robes are slightly tattered, the edges of his tunic singed, his hair messier than usual. His usual confident stride is still there, but there’s a slight stiffness to his movements, like he’s trying too hard to act normal—like he’s trying to keep you from noticing something. Your arms cross over your chest as you narrow your eyes at him. “You’re hurt.” He sighs, already knowing there’s no point in denying it. “It’s nothing.” “Let me see.”

He hesitates, but the moment you step toward him, hands reaching for the fastenings of his outer robes, he relents. The fabric slides off his shoulders, pooling onto the floor, and as you push back his tunic, your heart clenches at the sight. A burn stretches across his chest—a blaster graze, angry red against his skin, likely from whatever battle he’d been thrown into today. It’s not deep, but it’s fresh, and it must have stung the entire way home. Yet, he didn’t say a word. Didn’t even flinch. “Anakin,” you murmur as a frown graces your lips, fingers hovering over the wound, not touching it but close enough to feel the heat of his skin. “You should have told me.” “I didn’t want to worry you.” His voice is softer now, quieter, and his eyes hold something so reverent as he watches you. Your brows furrow as you glance up at him, frustration flickering in your gaze. “That’s not how this works. You don’t just—just brush off a blaster wound like it’s nothing!” He doesn’t answer. Instead, he just watches you, letting you fuss over him, that same small smile you hold so dear to you tugging at the corners of his lips. It’s infuriating—he’s standing there like he finds your worry adorable, like he enjoys seeing you all riled up over him. You shake your head and turn away, muttering under your breath as you grab the medkit from its usual spot. When you turn back, Anakin is still watching you, amusement dancing in his blue eyes. "Stop looking at me like that." "Like what?" He says, pretending to be all innocent. Shooting him a glare, you huff and roll your eyes. “Sit down,” you instruct, pointing to one of the sofas. He obeys with a lopsided grin, stretching out lazily, but you don’t let yourself get distracted. Kneeling beside him, you press a cool cloth against the wound, wiping away the soot and dried blood with careful, precise movements. He barely reacts, only flinching just a bit, but you still blow softly on the area, soothing whatever sting might be left. “It’s just a graze,” he murmurs, watching you with that quiet, affectionate gaze that always makes you weak. You roll your eyes again, staying focused, though it’s hard to ignore the way your heart pounds in your chest at his tone. “Quiet.” He chuckles but doesn’t argue, allowing you to finish applying a healing salve and gently smoothing a bandage over his chest. When you’re done, you let out a relieved sigh, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “There. All better.” Your lips curve up into a cheerful grin. You expect him to thank you—or maybe tease you again—but instead, when you look up, you find his gaze already on you. The golden sunset light catches in his blue eyes, making them glow all the more. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even glance at the bandage. Instead, his eyes are fully locked on you, filled with something so warm, so utterly consuming, it nearly steals your breath away. “What?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy under his intense stare. Anakin tilts his head, a slow grin spreading across his lips—so fond and innocent. "You’re cute when you worry about me." Your face heats up instantly. "Shut up," you mumble, looking away. He laughs, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips brushing your skin in a way that makes your breath hitch. Before you can react, he cups your cheeks, squishing them just enough to make your lips pout. “Anakin—” Before you can protest, he leans in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, his warmth melting into you like the last light of the setting sun. “The cutest,” he murmurs against them, his voice full of nothing but love.

@thesassypadawan @anakinstwinklebunny @sydkneez @dessxoxsworld @nikiloveshayden @sweetcheesecakesblog @throughparisallthroughrome

—❝endlessly tender❞

clayton beresford x reader

tw ; nothing, just pure fluff

a/n ; kay so bunny i was literally prancing around my room when i got this cause my LORD it lowkey saved me from my horrible writers block 😭😭 BUT YAH I HAD A LOT OF FUN MAKING THIS SOOOO ENJOY, ANGELS <33

THE LIGHTING IN THE VICTORIA’S SECRET CHANGING ROOM WAS SOFT AND WARM. It casted a gentle glow over the blush-pink walls and mirrored surfaces. The air smelled faintly of vanilla and roses, and the world outside the door seemed to blur into insignificance.

Clayton sat on the plush velvet sofa in the corner of the small room, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his posture relaxed but his gaze attentive. He—being the businessman he is—negotiated with the saleslady at the front desk to let you two have the changing room to yourselves for only an hour.

You stood in front of the mirror, smoothing out the delicate fabric of the lingerie set you’d chosen. The soft lace hugged your body, the light catching on the intricate patterns as you turned slightly to examine yourself. Behind you, Clayton sat quietly, his hands resting in his lap, his head tilted ever so slightly as he watched you.

But it wasn’t a watchful gaze born of lust or desire—it was something far deeper, far gentler. His blue eyes glimmered with admiration, and the faintest of smiles tugged at his lips as if he were seeing a masterpiece come to life.

“Clay,” you murmured a little teasingly, turning to look at him over your shoulder, your cheeks warming under the weight of his soft, unwavering gaze. “You’re staring.” You giggled, your lips curving up.

“I know,” he replied simply, his voice low and warm, like a comforting embrace. “I can’t help it. You’re…” He trailed off, shaking his head slightly as if searching for the right words. “You’re breathtaking.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, though your heart bloomed at his words. “It’s just a corset. Nothing groundbreaking.”

“Not to me,” he said softly, standing up and stepping toward you. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every second.

You turned back toward the mirror, tugging at one of the laces of the corset, but your fingers fumbled. Before you could try again, you felt his hands gently brush yours aside. “Let me,” he said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

His fingers worked carefully, tugging the ribbons into place and fastening them with precision, his touch warm and steady against your skin. The moment felt so intimate, so tender, that you barely dared to breathe. His presence was grounding, his every move filled with a quiet reverence that made you feel cherished in a way words could never express.

When he finished, his hands lingered for a moment, his fingertips brushing lightly over the exposed skin of your back. You looked up at him through the mirror, your gaze meeting his, and the softness in his eyes made your heart ache.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He then leaned down, pressing a featherlight kiss to your bare shoulder. The warmth of his lips sent a shiver down your spine, and when he shifted slightly to kiss the curve of your back, your breath hitched. There was nothing urgent about his actions—just love, unfiltered and pure, poured into every soft touch and lingering glance.

You turned around to face him, and his hands instinctively rested on your waist. “Clay,” you whispered, your voice trembling just enough to betray how deeply he’d affected you.

He smiled, that soft, boyish smile that never failed to make your heart flutter. “I’m sorry,” he said, though there wasn’t an ounce of regret in his tone. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Your hands found their way to his face, your fingers brushing against his jawline as you looked up at him. “Don’t apologize,” you said, your voice just as soft. “I love you for it.”

His eyes softened further, and for a moment, he just looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world worth looking at. Then, slowly, he leaned down and rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you as though he wanted to shield you from the world.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmured, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

The words settled between you, warm and gentle, and you smiled, your heart so full it felt like it might burst. “And you’re everything to me, Clayton.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world fading into irrelevance. The lace and silk, the blush-pink walls, even the mirrored reflections—all of it was secondary to the warmth and love that radiated between you.

In his arms, you felt beautiful, adored, and utterly safe. In that quiet little room, under the soft glow of the lights, you knew without a doubt that this kind of love—pure, unwavering, and endlessly tender—was the rarest and most precious thing in the galaxy.

And as his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer once more, you realized there was nowhere else in the universe you’d rather be.

@thesassypadawan @anakinstwinklebunny @sydkneez @dessxoxsworld @nikiloveshayden @sweetcheesecakesblog

—❝entirely yours❞

anakin skywalker x reader

tw ; nothing, just pure fluff

a/n ; AFTER 700 YEARS OF TRYING TO POST THIS, IT WORKED 😭😭 BUT ANYWAYS, i loved this prompt so SO much !! i was literally going to write something for this so i was so excited when i saw u requested this !! for anyone who's waiting on their request, i promise i'm working on them !! enjoy, angels <3

THE NIGHT HAD SETTLED LIKE A QUIET BLANKET OVER CORUSCANT. It was the kind of cold that seeped into every corner of the bedroom despite the hum of the heater. Outside, the city glowed faintly, the lights casting a hazy reflection on the large, fogged-up windows. But inside, the world was smaller, softer—a sanctuary where warmth existed in the form of tangled limbs and whispered words. Anakin emerged from the bathroom, a billow of steam following him like he’d walked straight out of the sun. His damp curls stuck to his forehead, and his skin glowed pink, flushed from the borderline scalding shower he insisted on taking every single time. Yet, as he padded barefoot across the room, he was already hugging his black, lounge robe to him tighter, a pout forming on his lips. "It's so cold," he muttered dramatically, collapsing onto the bed with a sigh as if he’d just returned from a harrowing battle in the Outer Rim—which, well, he had. You glanced at him, barely holding back a smile. "Anakin, you were in there for almost half an hour. I’m pretty sure you evaporated half the planet’s water supply. How are you still cold?" He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, with an exaggerated groan, he burrowed under the duvet, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. Only his eyes peeked out, glinting like little pools of mischief and complaint. He then turned his head toward you, his pout visible even beneath the layers of blankets. "The galaxy is cruel," he muttered, as if the cold itself was some personal offense against him. "You’re ridiculous," you teased, shaking your head as you turned back to what you were doing. But before you could take another step, a hand shot out from under the duvet—warm, surprisingly strong—and wrapped around your wrist. "Don’t you dare," he said, his voice muffled but insistent. In one quick movement, he pulled you onto the bed, wrapping the blanket around you both like you were part of his personal plan to survive the cold. "Anakin!" You yelped, laughing as you were unceremoniously bundled into his cocoon of warmth. "Shhh," he whispered as his lips curved up at the corners, already pulling you closer. His arms wrapped around you like you were the only source of heat in the galaxy, his face pressing into the crook of your neck. "You’re warm. Stay here." His curls tickled your cheek as he buried himself further against you, his body clinging to yours like a loth-cat determined to find the coziest spot in the galaxy. You could feel his breath against your skin, warm and steady, and his sigh of contentment made your chest ache with affection. "You know," you murmured, your fingers threading gently through his still-damp hair, "you could try wearing a shirt, or maybe putting on some socks. Normal people solutions, you know?" He tilted his head up to look at you, his blue eyes sparkling with teasing and something infinitely softer. "A shirt can’t hug me back," he said simply, his lips curling into that lopsided smirk that never failed to make your heart skip. "And socks don’t kiss me goodnight." Your cheeks burned hotter than the heater you’d accused him of overusing, but before you could respond, he tightened his hold on you, pulling you so close you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest—like he’s scared you’d disappear if he didn’t. "You’re the only warmth I need," he murmured, his voice so soft it felt like a secret. The way he clung to you was something you’d never get used to—not out of awkwardness, but out of the sheer intensity of it. His affection for you felt like it bordered on reverence, as if you were the only thing tethering him to the world when everything else spun too fast—and if only you knew that was exactly the case. The intensity of his affection never ceased to take your breath away. In his arms, the galaxy seemed smaller, quieter, like nothing could reach you here. You traced your fingers lightly along his bare back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch.

"Honestly, you’re impossible," you whispered, though your words carried no real complaint.

"And you’re perfect," he countered immediately, his voice muffled as he pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone. "I mean it. You’re my sun. My own personal heater."

You laughed softly, shaking your head at his dramatics, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. "I won’t run away if you let your grip loosen a little, you know." You teased gently, massaging his back lightly.

He hummed, his breath fanning over your skin as he nuzzled closer. "Good," he said, his voice already thick with sleep. "Because I’m keeping you forever."

"Forever sounds nice," you murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, his thick lashes fluttering closed from the action.

Outside, the cold night carried on, but it didn’t matter. The world beyond your little cocoon could have been as frozen as Hoth, and you wouldn’t have noticed. 

Anakin’s breathing slowed, his body fully relaxing against yours as sleep began to overtake him. Even in his sleep, his arms remained locked around you, holding you close like the warmth of your presence was the only thing keeping him grounded to the moment.

You brushed a stray curl from his face, and held him just a little tighter. And as you closed your eyes, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours, you couldn’t help but smile.

Anakin Skywalker might hate the cold, but you secretly loved how it made him cling to you like this—soft, vulnerable, and entirely yours.

@thesassypadawan @anakinstwinklebunny @sydkneez @dessxoxsworld @nikiloveshayden @sweetcheesecakesblog @throughparisallthroughrome

Anakin AU where’s Shmi is still alive and Anakin is in college with reader and he had never brought a girl home and for the first time he bring her with him for dinner. And she get along so well with his mother and Anakin is just blushing the whole time.

Fic or not, but this has been in my mind for too long.

(based on a real event where my younger sister brought her gf home)

—❝fit so seamlessly❞

modern au!anakin skywalker x reader

tw ; nothing, just pure fluff

a/n ; GUYS IM SORRY I KEEP FORGETTING TO DO REQUESTS😭 i literally am dying in a spiral of writers block and im DYING OF SICKNESS RN SIGHHH. but anyways.. i LOVEDDD THIS PROMPT AND I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING IT. hope u enjoy this, angels <33

THE FIRST TIME ANAKIN BRINGS YOU HOME TO MEET HIS MOM, HE’S NEVER BEEN SO NERVOUS IN HIS LIFE. Which is ridiculous. He’s a grown man and he’s in college. He’s faced high-pressure exams, late-night study sessions fueled by way too much caf, and a near-death experience trying to fix his own car’s engine. And yet, standing outside the small apartment door with you at his side, his palms are sweating like he’s twelve again. You, on the other hand, seem completely at ease, rocking on your heels as you glance up at him with a grin. “You’re acting like you’re bringing me home to a mob boss.” You tease him, rolling your eyes playfully. Anakin huffs and glares at you, even as his lips twitch at the corners. He shifts the bag of fruit he brought for his mom to his other hand nervously. “It’s not that. It’s just… I’ve never brought anyone home before.” Your grin softens then, something warm flickering in your eyes. “Well, I’m honored to be your first.” He swallows. Hard. Because that sentence should not make his brain short-circuit the way it just did. But before he can embarrass himself further, the door swings open, and there she is—Shmi Skywalker. She’s small, but she has this presence, this warmth that instantly makes you feel like you’ve walked into the safest place in the world. Her dark hair is streaked with gray, her smile soft and her warm brown eyes twinkling with affection as she immediately pulls Anakin into a tight hug.

He sinks into it without hesitation, burying his face against her shoulder for just a second, because no matter how old he gets, he’ll always be her son.

You stand watching with a smile, the way his shoulders relax—the way he looks like he can breathe again—makes your heart warm.

Then she pulls back, her gaze flickering to you.

And suddenly, Anakin is sweating again.

“Mom,” he says, clearing his throat. “This is—” But before he can even finish introducing you, Shmi’s already pulling you into a hug too. “Oh, sweetheart,” she says, her voice warm and full of nothing but love. “I’ve heard so much about you.” You blink in surprise before easily melting into the embrace, feeling all giddy inside. “All good things, I hope.” Shmi pulls back just enough to give Anakin a look. “He never shuts up about you.” She chuckles, pulling back to place her hands on your arms, her eyes crinkling with her smile. He wants to die. Right then and there. Just drop dead in the entryway. You, of course, find this hilarious, shooting him a teasing grin as you turn your head to look at him. “Really, Anakin? Didn’t know you were such a talker.” He groans, running a hand down his face as his mother laughs—actually laughs at his suffering. “I—okay, inside. Everyone inside,” he mutters, already pushing you both through the doorway before he collapses on the spot. And it only gets worse from there. Because dinner? Yeah. You and his mom get along instantly.You’re helping set the table before Shmi can even tell you to sit, and when she asks about school, you answer like you’ve known her forever. You listen to her stories with actual interest, laughing at the way she talks about Anakin’s childhood, nodding like you already knew about all his quirks as a kid.

And Anakin? He’s just sitting there, blushing, because this is new. He’s never had this before. Never had someone fit so seamlessly into his life, someone who just belongs at his table, in his space, with his family. And you do. It makes his heart swell with pure and utter love for you, feeling like he’s truly found the one who’s for him.

And he doesn’t know what to do with that.

At some point, Shmi excuses herself to grab dessert, leaving just the two of you at the table.

You glance over at Anakin, smiling softly at the dazed look on his face. “You okay there, Skywalker?” He blinks and clears his throat, trying to pretend he hasn’t just been sitting there like some kind of lovesick idiot for the past hour. “Yeah,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… you and my mom.” You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head to the side with a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “What about us?” “I don’t know.” He exhales, shaking his head slightly. “You just—fit.” You blink at him, surprised by the honesty in his voice, the way his words settle over you like a quiet, unspoken truth. And then, because you can’t help yourself—because he’s adorable when he’s flustered—you grin. “So, when’s the wedding?” And Anakin chokes on his glass of water while you giggle to yourself.

@thesassypadawan @anakinstwinklebunny @sydkneez @dessxoxsworld @nikiloveshayden @sweetcheesecakesblog @throughparisallthroughrome

—❝guilty pleasures❞

anakin skywalker x reader

tw ; pure fluff, established relationship (reader and anakin are husband and wife)

a/n ; this was so fucking cute im giggling and kicking my feet HELLO. to everyone who's sending requests, i'm slowly getting through them all, don't worry !! fyi, i'm picturing their apartment to look like padme's apartment so that you all get a better idea of what i was going for. enjoy, angels <3

ANAKIN HAS MANY GUILTY PLEASURES, MOST BEING UNEXPECTED. For you, not many are because you know him so well, but to others it’s exactly that—completely unexpected.

But you’ve never exactly thought that this would be one of those guilty pleasures he has. How could you? The second he came home from a mission, basking in your warmth, you quickly and eagerly pulled him to come sit down on the sofa. He was obviously confused at first, but it was only when you cupped his face in your hands and he saw your makeup bag next to him that he realized what you’re trying to do. The entire time you’ve been trying to do his makeup, he’s just been whining or pouting, so it’s not like you could’ve exactly guessed he was enjoying this. Well, not unless you were looking closely. The way his lips keep twitching from the way he’s trying to keep a smile off of them, the way his hands massage your sides as you straddle him, and the way he looks up into your eyes with such admiration were key giveaways to how much he was actually enjoying this—but you were a little too busy trying to apply your mascara onto his thick lashes. 

"Sit still," You scold him as he squirms once again while you try putting on some mascara. "But my nose is ticklish," He whines softly as he wraps his arms around your waist. He huffs quietly before muttering, "You still haven’t told me why you’re doing this." "Because you have pretty lashes and it would be a crime if I didn't do something about it,” You say as you pat his cheek gently, before grabbing your lipstick. Anakin gives you a deadpan look while you giggle evilly, "Pout your lips, Ani." You apply the lipstick on his soft, plump lips and keep it aside before squealing as you pinch his cheeks, "You look so pretty!" He grumbles softly as he lets you squish his cheeks—but even while he’s grumbling, you can see the clear and utter love for you shining in his eyes. "You're lucky I love you." You roll your eyes playfully, leaning down and capturing his lips against yours in a soft, passionate kiss before murmuring against his lips, "That I am." The corners of his lips curve up against your lips despite his best efforts, his arms gently squeezing you. When you slowly pull away from the kiss, you can see his now lipstick smudged lips, and the way his eyes crinkle at the edges due to his giddy grin.  “See, you look gorgeous.” You tease a little, giggling again as you pepper his cheeks in small kisses, leaving lipstick stains on them. He laughs a little at the ticklish sensation, his heart blooming inside his chest.  He turns his head to the side where you’re placing another kiss on his cheek so he can steal another kiss off your lips. “Maybe, but definitely not as gorgeous as you, my love.” He replies, the expression on his face quite amused from the lipstick smeared all over your lips as well.  Anakin raises one of his hands and wipes away some of the smudges on your face with his thumb, looking up into your eyes with such reverence and love that it practically suffocates you.  You smile cheerfully down at him, small giggles slipping past your lips from time to time, drowning out the sounds of the speeders flying past the large balcony attached to the living room, and the bustling sounds of the city of Coruscant.  And so, this evening you found out that one of the more unexpected guilty pleasures your husband has is that he loves when you try to put makeup on him. He loves the way your brows furrow in concentration and the way the tip of your tongue peeks out a little past your lips as you try to not mess up. He just loves looking at you.  He’ll always tell you how much he loves admiring you, but telling you he loves you putting makeup on him? Not a chance. But it’s quite obvious to you now, and you’ll never ask for better.