Loki Season 2 Premiere !!

loki season 2 premiere !!

Promise

a/n yes im using the princess! reader who's about to be forced into a political marriage with anakin again,, and what about it the vibe is so fun to me, also i love jealous anakin

warnings: 18+!!! smut (he broke me down) written by someone whose only experience comes from fanfics, so pls be nice,, also written in 1st person bc that was the vibe when i started and i didn't realize this was going to get smutty (i'm sorry yall😭 it's still my best tense)

Summary: As a princess, your future is set in stone. You'll marry someone your father picks for you to aid your country. All of this you've accepted...until you befriend Anakin Skywalker, who was originally assigned to guard you during a time of political unrest on your home planet.

----

He's still near the door, arms crossed and expression as stoic as it was when he first interrupted my meeting to escort me to an urgent consultation with my father.

I understand that publicly we need to remain as indifferent as physically possible and that any sort of friendliness we display needs to seem completely surface level. But we're not in public anymore and usually the transition from appropriate indifference to something much warmer is instant.

"...How urgent is urgent?"

The question is more for our sake than anything else. I want to hear his voice outside of the stiff way he interrupted the meeting with that last suitor. He had barely looked at me as he mumbled something about my father. I want it to feel light the way it usually does between us. I want him to make one of those jokes that always has me rolling my eyes or to smile or--or to do anything that makes him feel like Anakin.

The urge to study him begins to make it hard to just stand there so I turn towards my vanity. What I'm wearing isn't exactly inappropriate for a closed door meeting, but it's more formal than I'd like and a little itchy. If I have time to change into something more standard, I'll take it. "If I call Raina in here I can be in something a lot more comfortable in five minutes."

No response. I smooth my hair back with my palms, eyes subtly shifting towards his reflection in the mirror. Anakin's taken the slightest step forward. "Anakin?"

His head tilts downwards, eyes briefly meeting mine in the mirror before darting away. There's something about the way he's holding himself that would feel bashful it was less stiff. "There is no meeting."

"What?" My head instinctually snaps in his direction. Anakin's already watching me. "You--you made up an emergency?"

This is--Anakin interrupted a meeting with the first suitor that didn't make my skin crawl. I wouldn't have been thrilled to walk down the aisle with him, but I could have likely learned to be content with him. At least he believes that women can do more than just be brides and raise children. He'd allow me to participate in some community work to bond with his people and I'd be able to visit home.

But that's besides the point. He could have been the most repulsive candidate my father had found for me and it still wouldn't have justified what Anakin did. I don't walk out of meetings. Ever. If my father finds out about this...

"Do you have any idea what my father will do if he finds out?" I sit the edge of my vanity's seat with a tired sigh. There has to be some excuse. I could blame it on sickness or a misunderstand or--

"Then I'll take the blame." Anakin's words pull me out of my thoughts. His voice is still stiff and lacking its usual warmth in a way that only adds to my unease. Why is he acting like this? "I'll tell him that it was my fault and that I misunderstood your schedule debriefing."

My fingers dig into the soft fabric of my dress that's pooling over the seat. "Don't." My voice sounds so small, so vulnerable I have to hate myself for it. "He might take that the wrong way and--" I exhale slowly, forcing myself to cling to rationality. "And he might arrange your removal."

Anakin scoffs. What is his issue? "Like that'd bother you."

My throat tightens. After everything we've been through, after telling him things that I've never been able to tell anyone...How can he just dismiss all of it? And why is he being so mean? "What?"

"You've found your ideal suitor and now you can get married and be sent away and never--" Anakin cuts himself off, eyes tearing away so quickly like there's painful about looking at me. "You don't need me anymore."

Oh. That's what this is about. "Anakin." He's staring at some distant point on my wall. "That's not true. You know it isn't."

Everything about him remains stiff. "You were smiling." He briefly glances at me, eyebrows drawn together so sharply it tugs at something in my chest. "A real smile, not your practiced one." Anakin lets out a sigh that feels as pointed as a sarcastic laugh. "And you laughed."

"What?" I'm not miserable in one meeting and now he's acting like I hate him. "I--I might have been making the best of it because he's the first suitor who didn't spend the entire time listing off the requirements for his bride, but that isn't the same as liking him." And even if I liked him, would that be such a terrible thing? Would it really undermine our entire friendship if I found a way to be married and not miserable? "I'm going to have to marry one of them at some point, and I d--"

"Don't marry him." Anakin blurts the sentence out in one wavering breath. The letters run together so closely it feels more like a single word.

For a moment, all the shaky request does is sit between us. I've been on several outings and meetings with potential suitors and Anakin's never reacted like this. What was so wrong about this last one? "Don't marry him? What do--"

Anakin's eyes finally meet mine. The way he's looking at me stings, all glossy eyes and a pouty frown that's trying its best to be harsh. He seems more pained than angry and that's somehow worse.

Don't marry him. The words too strained and small to be about just the man from earlier. Don't marry him means don't marry any of them.

Oh.

I scratch the back of my wrist as Anakin's eyes drop to the ground. He knows that I have no interest in marrying for my father, but even if I did, why would that bother him?

With a sigh, I push myself to stand. Why it upsets him doesn't matter. So much is already weighing on him.

Anakin doesn't look up as I start walking towards him. "I--I can't promise that." My nails dig into the skin of my palm. "I wish I could." The words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. "But it doesn't matter." Anakin's rigid as I carefully extend my hand and bend my fingers against his forearm. "You're always going to be important to me."

He pulls his arm forward instinctually. My hold on him loosens, but before I can take my hand back, Anakin adjusts his to squeeze mine. He's holding on just tight enough for it to feel uncomfortable, but I don't mind it. It's grounding.

"Until you're married." He's staring at where our hands sit between us. There's something I should say, something comforting and easing. Nothing's coming to mind. The reality of the situation is set in stone. I'll have to marry eventually and that--that will change things. But it'll never change the way I feel about Anakin.

Anakin, who always listens when I need to purge all of the resentment about the rules that control my life. Anakin, who sits with me when I can't sleep. Anakin, who has the worst sense of humor that can always pull a smile from me even when it feels impossible.

He moves our hands, releasing my hand at my side. The brief loss of contact makes my ribs feel cracked. "No." It's instinctual. "It's--" I reach forward, hand reaching for his arm. "You're the only person I can tell anything to, the only one that never expects anything from me and just--just likes me for who I am."

The realization that Anakin might be the only true friend I've ever had hits me hard and fast. All of that and a part of me has always been selfish enough to imagine what it'd be like to live in a different world that could allow for more. Though, that's barely been a thought that I've allowed myself to have. Neither of us are in a position to get attached to anyone in that way, and even if we were, Anakin wouldn't see me that way. Besides, his friendship is no small thing, so it definitely takes the sting out of the impossible.

"Who wouldn't?" The comment comes out so soft, so absentminded I nearly melt on the spot.

A lifetime of being a daughter instead of a son has a reflexive a lot of people attempting to crawl up my throat. I swallow the bitterness like bile before I can make this about me and settle on a much lighter, "You'd be surprised."

Any lift in his expression falls again. "You don't see it."

I do try to think about it, but nothing that makes sense comes to mind. "See what?" Anakin pauses, lips pressing together. I'm expecting some kind of response. Instead, Anakin shakes his head once dismissively. "Tell me." His lack of response has me gently shoving his shoulder. "I thought we didn't keep secrets."

He lets out a small breath, we're so close I can feel the warmth of it against my skin. "It's nothing." When my only reaction is to glare, he reaches for my hand. "I don't want to talk about them anymore."

Strange. What does whatever he's talking about have to do with what we were talking about? Yes, the suitors want to court me but they want me the same way they want an ornament or my father's leniency in a business deal. Before I can remind him of this, his hand finds my shoulder.

If Anakin notices the way I freeze, he gives no indication of it, he just trails his thumb up and down the start of my collarbone. It's not the first time he's done this, but until now the gesture has been reserved for late nights when I can't sleep. I'm so used to it being soothing that it immediately gets rid of any fight in my system.

"You've had more meetings recently."

I nod, still too focused on the feeling of his hand on my shoulder. "It's a busy time...celebration season is always elaborate, and things are...tense."

He nods. If there's one thing he knows about, it's the precariousness that seems to be reaching everyone these days. But my time with Anakin is limited. He's been assigned to be my personal guard during the celebration season since the year a political protestor took my mother's life. The season always feels like it will be long, but time always slips away quicker than it should when it comes to Anakin.

I know I shouldn't do this. He doesn't need any type of encouragement after what happened at today's meeting, but something's clearly been weighing on him and I do miss him. The additional events, the public outings, the suitors...all to save face as the threat of war continues to become a more pressing issue. "My father had most of my afternoon blocked off in case that last suitor wanted extra time."

Anakin frowns, his thumb stopping its outlined path across my shoulder. He is so dramatic. "I shouldn't be telling you this because it might sound like I approve of you making up an emergency, but if you don't have anything to do, we can catch up."

He tilts his head, a hint of a smile turning up the corner of his lips. "Catch up? We're together all day."

I extend an arm, gently pushing him. First, he basically throws a fit because he convinced himself it was possible for me to like a suitor more than him, and now that I want to do something with him, he's trying to make fun of me. "I mean about before you came here. We've barely had time to talk since you've gotten back."

"Okay," his thumb brushes back down where my collarbone meets my shoulder, "We can talk." He squeezes my shoulder before retracting his hand. "The garden or the library?"

Our two most frequented spots. I grin. "The garden, the weather's nice today." He smiles, taking a step back. "Give me a minute to change. I turn away from him, walking towards my closet. "I've been ready to take off this dress since Raina put me in it this morning."

Raina spent longer than a minute trapping me in between scratchy fabric and a stiffly structured top. All of those ties and buttons that I still can't reach. Ugh. I wonder if calling Raina in will lead to more attention being drawn to the fact that I left early. Technically, the official meeting would likely be over by now but my father wanted it to go well. He kept things open in hopes of it lasting a little longer.

It's probably better not to ask. Drawing any attention to me and Anakin isn't the best idea in general. We're good friends, which is okay in front of some people but wrong in front of others. Raina is a little skeptical. It's nothing personal against Anakin, she just knows me too well, which means she reads into things.

I stretch my arm back as far as it'll go and manage to undo the bottom of the lacing and a few buttons. Anything that's more than halfway up my back is impossible to get to. I twist and turn and push and I can't reach.

"Everything alright?"

Anakin's voice carries through the short hall. I sigh, giving the fabric one last desperate tug. "Everything's fine I just..." I squeeze my eyes shut before pinching the bridge of my nose. "Can you come here?"

A brief wave of silence that leaves my face burning lingers until the sound of footsteps ends it. Anakin appears in my closet's doorway. "You're okay?"

"Yeah," I mumble, "Yes, I just--I can't get the buttons." As if to make my point, I try again in vain, trying again to reach the tiny clasps.

"You need help?" Anakin's voice comes out lower than usual.

Maybe he feels just as awkward about this. "If it'd be easier, you could just call in Raina."

"No," I can hear his weight shifting off the doorframe, "I can do it."

He takes a few steps forward. Before I know it, he's directly behind me. Anakin smooths a hand over my hair before gently moving it over my shoulder. The way heat begins to crawl up my neck makes me glad that my back is to him. His hand settles against my back.

I pull my arms forward, crossing them in front of my chest. He takes over, fingertips grazing against my back. The longer he works, the looser the dress begins to feel. I should be feeling cooler now that I'm getting closer to just being in my thin layering dress, but all of my earlier warmth and discomfort is now rising up my face.

"Raina put you in this this morning?"

I nod, "Raina woke me up earlier than usual today to make me up." The final button is pulled apart. I have to keep an arm at my chest to keep the dress from pooling at my feet. "I think this might have taken longer than my hair."

The comment is meant to be lighthearted. Instead of taking it that way, Anakin lets out a breath as his hand settles against my hip. "Won't things be easier when you don't have to worry about finding a husband?"

Now it's my turn to sigh. I make a point of pulling his hand off my side. I wander further into my closet. "You know I want nothing to do with this." My grip on the dress tightens, my sudden movement making it harder to keep the heavy dress on. "And if you honestly think I find any joy in being packaged in suffocating fabric and bodices so structured that they stab into my ribs every time I breathe, then you don't know me."

I turn around and let go of the dress, allowing the gown to pool at my feet. I step out of the puddle of fabric before reaching for one of my hangers, a casual day dress that I've barely looked at.

"I didn't mean it that way." His voice comes out low, almost reluctant. It's not enough to ease me, so I make a point of scoffing. Something warm pulls on my forearm. Before I know it, I'm facing with him. Oh. Anakin's closer than I thought he'd be. "I'm sorry." He exhales, voice tight, "Don't be mad, princess."

I keep my expression neutral. Though I'm in no mood to be reminded of my title, Anakin has a way of making it feel like a term of endearment. "If you're bothered by my situation, I understand that." He's staring me with such intensity I have to make the conscious choice to not look away. "I really understand that, but do not treat me like this is my choice. Not all of us are meant for more and can do whatever we want."

"Not whatever I want," he whispers, voice strained.

Now it's my turn to wish I had bitten my tongue. Anakin's told me enough of the stories for me to know that while sometimes the fact that he gets to leave and be an active source of good makes me wish my life was different, his isn't exactly easy.

His eyes hold mine for a beat before drifting downwards. For whatever reason, that makes me aware of the fact that this is likely the least dressed I've ever been in front of anyone. Sure, Anakin's seen me in pajamas and casual wear, but the silk dress under my gown is thin and low cut.

"And don't say that this is what you're meant for." He pulls my arm down with his hand, letting his fingers interlock with mine. "I've seen you in meetings and the way that you care about your people. You don't need to do this."

Again, it's like he's trying to convince me to change my mind. Like this is something that I want. I don't understand what he's trying to convince me to do. "Try telling that to my father."

I'm not sure what it is, but something about Anakin's expression looks a little flatter. Maybe even disappointed. I get it, this isn't exactly a fun topic, and we have no reason to dwell on it now. It's not like I'm getting engaged tonight. And I rarely get time to just be around Anakin, my future marriage has already taken enough from me, it doesn't need to take this too.

"Why are we still talking about this?" I pull my hand back, ready to grab my dress. "It's not like anything's happening now, let's just go to the garden like we--"

Anakin reaches forward before I can turn around, his hand finding my shoulder.

"I--" He cuts himself off, "There's been a rise in meetings with potential suitors, it's not as easy to ignore as it used to be."

I know exactly what he's talking about. All of my energy has been focused on not thinking about that. But that's because it's my inevitable future. How could this possibly matter this much to Anakin? "Ignore what?"

"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to know what they're feeling? What they're thinking about you?" Anakin's breath catches itself in his throat, his thumb slipping beneath the strap of my dress. "What they're thinking about doing to you?"

Heat rushes to my face. I try to swallow to clear the lump in my throat but my mouth has gone dry. "Anakin?"

"I've spent so long trying to let you go."

What? Is he--is he saying that he-- "What?"

He tilts his head downwards, "You don't need to do this. I--"

"Don't say it." My hand is quick to grab the one he has on my shoulder. Push him away, I should push him away. My hand won't move. The one person I've always known I won't ever be able to have.

"Why not?" He asks the question so innocently, like he couldn't ever fathom a reason for me to shut this down. After a moment, his eyebrows pull together, a small frown playing at his lips. "You don't want me?"

If this was any less serious, that would have made me laugh. That is, most definitely, not the issue. "That's not true."

He relaxes slightly, his thumb trailing down my shoulder. Before I can explain issues that we both are definitely aware of, he leans impossibly closer. His weight on mine is nearly enough to make me forget the concept of logic entirely.

"Anakin," it's meant to be a warning. The breathiness of my voice takes away all of its severity. "We can't." I'm arguing for more my sake than his. He already knows all of the reasons that we need to agree to remain just friends before things get any more complicated. "What I want doesn't matter. Nothing I've wanted has ever mattered." He hasn't moved away, but at least he isn't trying to get any closer. "And even if it did, it's not like we'd suddenly be able to be together."

Anakin's hand adjusts on my shoulder, his grip tightening. He has the audacity to look like he's not sure what I'm talking about. "The Jedi code?" He blinks, still giving no indication of understanding why everything about us is impossible. "I'm sure I don't need to remind you why that matters, chosen one."

He scoffs. "I don't care."

I place my free hand on his chest, willing myself to create some distance between us before my judgement finally lapses. "You can't--you can't say that." My eyes squeeze shut, "I know that it's unfair, but time will pass and you'll feel rational again, and it'll be easier."

"Don't do that." The harsh quality of his voice nearly makes me step back. "Don't treat this like it's a political compromise."

Something about me trying to keep things together the only way I know how is hurting him. I don't know how to get through this without taking the emotion out of it. Still, I don't want to make this harder on him. My hand moves up his chest and rests on his shoulder. "I didn't mean it like that."

He nods slowly, visibly relaxing at my touch, "You're only pushing me away because you're afraid."

"What?"

Anakin's thumb drags across my skin. "You're afraid that if you let yourself even admit that you might want something that your father hasn't decided for you, and that if you're selfish for even a second, your entire world will fall apart."

If it came from anyone else, I'd be offended, but coming from Anakin, it just makes the real reason why I can't just say it and give in hurt more. "That's not it." Anakin doesn't respond. He wants me to say more and I'm not sure that I can. "It's--" What I'm afraid of is that I let myself admit that I want Anakin out loud, I'll have to decide whether or not I want him more than everything I've been working towards my entire life and that I won't like my own answer.

"It's that," I start over, staring at my hand on his shoulder in case looking at him directly will make the confidence I've gathered to wither away. "That if I let myself think about it, about you--like that--for longer than a moment, I might want you more than any of this."

He pauses, likely thinking through his words. Maybe he'll try to promise me that he wouldn't make me choose while not understanding that being with him at all makes that decision for me. Or maybe the amount of care I'm implying will scare him into second guessing this.

His hand slowly moves off of my shoulder. If my deep, dark secret has finally gotten him to understand why we're better off as we are, then maybe it's worth how hard it was to get out.

His fingers settle against my jaw. Slowly, he gets my head to turn. I look at him, expecting some kind of rejection to be written across his face. Instead, all I see in his eyes is a pool of emotion ready for me to drown in. "Would that have to be a bad thing?"

This time, the softness of his question doesn't feel like an attempt to dismiss our reality. It's so genuine it turns into a physical ache between us.

I'm reminded that despite all of his talent, confidence, and sense of humor that I've tried so hard to enjoy less, he's still a boy who's experienced so much heartbreak. The council constantly dismissing him and refusing to grant him the title he deserves, the loss of his mother, all of the expectations on his shoulders...

Would it be such a bad thing to want him more than anything else? To love him more that much?

I tilt my head back, just enough to press my lips against his. Anakin's quick to reciprocate, turning the barely there press of lips into something else with no warning. He shifts his weight so that he's fully against me. My back hits the wall of my closet before I realize what's happening.

It's heavy, my bottom lip being pulled between his teeth. The hand that's not still cupping my jaw settles on my hip, the silk of my slip dress crumpling between his fingers. I pull my head back, Anakin attempts to follow, teeth tugging on my lip one last time before letting us separate.

He doesn't let me get far, resting his forehead against mine as we both struggle to catch our breaths. "I'm sorry, I should have--"

"Don't be sorry," I manage between slow pants, "Not for that."

Anakin smiles, and for once, I don't mind feeding his ego. "I can feel how much you need me." The urge to squirm away and hide any potential embarrassment is strong, but I have no way to act on the impulse. I'm pinned between Anakin and the wall of my closet. He slowly pulls my dress, exposing another inch of skin. "Do you think any of your suitors could make you feel like this?"

I shake my head, "No." That's an easy thing to get out, "Only you."

Another tug that has more fabric pooling around my waist. "Promise you won't marry him." His head dips forward, his lips brushing against the end of my jaw. "Any of them."

My eyes instinctually shut. I need to hold it together. "You--you know I can't just--" He places an open mouthed kiss against my neck. "Anakin."

"Promise." An order.

I exhale, struggling to focus. "It's not--" Another kiss. "It's not f--air." My voice cracks on the last syllable as Anakin moves further down my neck. "You know I'd never break a promise I made to you."

"What's not fair is having to watch you meet with men who look at you and to know that this..." He pulls the strap of my dress off of my shoulder, exposing more skin that he immediately presses his lips against. "Is what they want to do to you."

What? I had never thought that my suitors fantasized about anything, everything about those meetings always feel so cold and political. I'd question it if I could bring myself to care about the revelation with Anakin's teeth pressing into the pulse point of my neck. "To have to watch them look at what's mine."

"Anakin..."

One last shift of fabric and the hem of my dress is now over my hips. His hand leaves my jaw and skims the waist of my underwear. "Promise."

His fingers finally reach where I need him most. My eyes instinctually shut at the sensation, a wave of pleasure I've never felt before nearly making me jump. Noticing my tension, he presses a gentle kiss against my cheek.

I have to give him something, and maybe that'll be enough to at least put this conversation off until I'm in a position to negotiate. "I'm yours." My ability to form sentences is quickly fading as his finger presses into me. "Can't that be enough?" A small part of myself hates how easily I'm cracking. "For now?"

Anakin does the meanest thing imaginable, he stops. "Promise me."

A pathetically desperate whine escapes me. He can't be serious. He won't walk away now just because I can't immediately promise to never marry anyone.

He straightens enough to pull away from the crook of my neck. "Anakin." I meet his gaze, and behind the harshness of his eyes, I see that he means it. "You know I--I can't--"

"We can work it out." That genuine side of him returns, softness bleeding back into his expression. "All that matters is that you want to."

"Of course I want to."

He leans forward again, forehead pressing against mine, "Then promise me..." Anakin's eyes briefly shut, "Promise me you won't marry anyone else."

I let myself take him in, how it feels to let him consume me entirely. It's too late for me, anyway. I wouldn't be able to will myself to walk down the aisle the same way I couldn't force myself to push him away. "I promise."

His lips are on mine in an instant. When I don't part my lips fast enough, he hooks two fingers between the waistband of my underwear and tugs them down my legs in one, swift motion. I gasp, giving him all the access he needs to drag his tongue against mine.

He moves back, beginning to press his lips against my jaw. "Anakin."

"Say it again." His fingers find the spot that makes me see stars. "Promise me that you're mine."

A whiny breath slips past my lips, "I promise." His teeth drag against my throat and my nails instinctually dig into his shoulder, "Only you."

A rough sound escapes from the back of Anakin's throat. He removes a hand from my hip to adjust his own robes. I'm too distracted to realize what he's doing until it's obvious. "Again."

I reach my hand forward until my fingers are wrapping around his length. "Only you, Anakin." He groans. "I--I won't marry anyone else." Anakin places his hand over mine, guiding my hand up and down his length. "I'm yours."

He buries his face in the crook of my neck, "Maker, you're--" The rest of the sentence is murmured into my skin at a pitch that I can't make out.

His fingers press into me even harder. "Anakin," my whininess would be embarrassing if I wasn't so distracted by the coiling feeling in my stomach, "I--I--"

"Tell me," he lifts his head enough to speak the words into my ears, "Tell me that you want me."

My eyes screw shut, "I--It's more than want." It feels like a confession. "I need you."

Another strangled breath escapes him. Anakin pulls away enough to line himself against my entrance. He presses in slowly, the feeling in my stomach reaches a height I didn't think possible. "Anakin."

"You're so," he's getting the words out through gritted teeth, "Tight." Anakin pushes in even more. A gasp escapes me. "Say it again." I'm too lost in what I'm feeling to form the words. He pulls back before pushing his entire length in with no warning. Anakin shows no reaction to the pitchy whine he forced out of me. "Again."

"It's--it's only--you," I pant. "I won't marry any-one else--just--just please, Anakin."

His thumb presses against where my nerves are at their most on edge. I can't breathe or focus on anything. "Please what?"

"I need you."

He rubs tight circles against me and picks up the pace. My head falls against his shoulder, eyes squeezing tight. "Look at me." I--I can't keep my head up. Anakin's hand tugs at my hair, forcing me off of his shoulder. "Look at me."

I force my eyes open. "Anakin."

"Feel good, hm?" All I can do is nod. "Can't even talk anymore?" His lips find their way against my jaw. "What would all your suitors say if they could see how easy it was for me to get you like this?" His lips find a spot on my neck that leaves me dizzy. "First breaking all the rules and now you can't even talk." It's hard to focus on anything that isn't how he feels. "Who has you like this?"

I take a shaky breath, "You, Anakin." My voice is shaky, "Only you."

His lips press against mine. Hard. I give in entirely and it's all teeth and wanting a closer that doesn't exist. He pulls away just as quickly, "I've got you, princess," he exhales, "come for me."

My body knows what to do more than I do. I cling onto him. Anakin's thrusts become less even without losing speed. He continues until an all consuming pleasure has my body practically shaking. My orgasm hits so fast and hard I can barely hold myself upright.

"Oh, you're squee--" Anakin cuts himself off, pulling out before he can finish inside me. "Maker, you're perfect."

After it ends, I expect to be filled with some kind of regret or remorse. Instead, all I feel is a sense of peace as I recover with my forehead pressed into Anakin's chest. He keeps his arm around me loosely. "It's just you and me, princess."

I nod against him weakly, desperate to accept what he's saying. "Just you and me."

He smooths circles against my back. "We'll figure it out together."

It's not an easy thing to believe, but trusting Anakin is natural. I finally lift my head to look at him, "We have time." I don't know how much time, but it's definitely not happening today, and if I can push this until our political crisis becomes the ultimate concern, my father won't bring it up until this is resolved. Maybe if I prove myself as a leader, he'll see that I can be more. "I'm tired."

He smiles lazily, "You're saying I tired you out?" I roll my eyes. "Come on, we have some time before you have to meet with your advisors." Anakin squeezes my shoulder, thumb soothingly tracing a pattern against my collarbone. "Stay with me?"

I have to bite my tongue to keep a much too emotional always from coming out, so I just nod. He takes my hand and leads me into my bedroom. Anakin helps me into bed before laying next to me.

Drowsiness pulls at my eyelids. I fight against the exhaustion as best as I can, but Anakin's gentle touches and whispered terms of endearment aren't making it easier.

"You can sleep," he finally whispers, "I'll make sure you're awake with enough time to get ready for your next meeting."

It's tempting, but after all of this, all I want is to be near him and to--to talk to him and absorb his presence before I can't. "But--"

"I'm not going anywhere," he says, reading my hesitance easily, "We have time."

My eyes are already closed, "Promise?"

Anakin's head dips forward as he presses a chaste kiss against my temple. "I promise."

had an asthma attack so bad today my mom pulled out her phone and called the pharmacy about an inhaler pick up before i could catch my breath 😭

Hi! I’ve seen you have a Masterlist but you haven’t updated in some time

So I’ve made an Docs and updated the Masterlist you had

Here’s the link:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/10Oxjtm9KUQKofnJC2ayB9ZjXdQLcAwUToOzK10eKmlk/edit

Hope that’s okay and it helps! 💞

not to be too dramatic but this might be the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me 😭 like you have no idea how much I've been putting off organizing it

sending you sm love 💗 thank you sm!!

Hi! I know you're probably busy rn with collage and what not and I totally understand if you can't expand on this but either way, god I just need to rant about this thought.

So I just saw this tik tok where this girl was like "when I'm riding passenger princess and we're getting a little to close to the car in front of us" and the audio was like "the question is when are you gonna START stopping?"

And one of the comments said she wasn't a passenger princess she was a anxious passenger patroller and all that had me thinking of was Stu and reader, like I don't know about everyone else but i canon whole heartily Stu is a great driver who drives recklessly because 1)he knows what he's doing and 2) he thinks the shits funny

And I believe he'd do it especially to reader when he gets in those weird moods when he doesn't know how to feel about the reader/doesn't know how to handle it, and it kinda just serfaces in this weird aggression . Idk it could be like a fight-ish thing and she's telling him to slow down and he's being a dick about and in the end he weasels his way back into her good graces because she won't speak to him first if he's wrong and he doesn't like going to long with out talking to her

I don't know what up with my mind and how it wonders, anywho hope you have a good day/night :)

a/n for sure busy with school and actually having a social life for once and writing but always always always have time for billy and/or stu (especially since i'm kind of stuck on final girl rn😭)

YOU ARE SO RIGHT,, like i don't think he'd drive recklessly to scare reader with the intention of putting reader or himself in a dangerous situation,, but he'd for sure find it funny or see it as a way to "humble" reader a bit, like if Stu felt like the reader was acting too detached or into someone else he's suddenly speeding a little more just so that reader has to grip his arm and squeeze his hand

anyway i've been missing them and super happy to have a lower stakes way to talk about them,, also this turned out a little different and fluffier than i expected it to be lol

----

Something about the commercial feels different in the fall. Cliche radio hits are easier during the summer, sometimes even fun. But during autumn, with leaves melting off trees in hues of red and orange and the looming end of the year nostalgia, the synthetic quality is harder to look past.

That's why your hand instinctually gravitates to the radio, switching the station without a second thought.

Stu sighs, a quick, over exaggerated puff of air. "I liked that one."

You glance in his direction, glaring, "You were barely listening."

Even though you're mainly defending yourself out of habit, you know it's true. Stu's pretty open about what he likes, even when he doesn't realize it. Usually, when he likes a song he'll tap his fingers against the steering wheel. If he really likes something, he'll even get into it in a way that definitely lessens his ability to control the car.

"I was, too," he hums, half pouting.

You roll your eyes before looking back out the window. The world is moving past you in a vague blur. So quick a seed of unease plants itself in your stomach. You wouldn't exactly call it worry, you've been hanging with Stu and getting him to drive you around too long for his casual take on driving to overly phase you. With the exception of him doing something particularly risky like throwing himself into another lane after barely checking or taking too sharp of a left turn because of yellow light.

Sometimes you comment on it, equal parts teasing and annoyed. But usually, it's easier to just accept it. Stu's so comfortable with the way he drives that comments only amuse him. The one time you glared at him and asked him to slow down, he had a made a game of switching lanes at the last possible second.

"You liked that Spice Girls song more."

Stu openly snaps his head away from the road to glare at you. "Did not, you're the one that likes that saturated pop stuff."

"I said I liked one song one time."

He sighs, finally turning back to face the windshield. "Sure..." He tugs on the last syllable, dragging it out to make his disbelief clear. "You wanna stop for ice cream?"

It's not exactly late, but later than you planned on staying out. Time seems to slip away too quickly when you and your usual group are together and this afternoon's movie that ended in a hangout at the mall had eaten even more time than expected. There was something extra entertaining about wandering between stores and only occasionally actually looking at clothes.

You do have homework and it is Sunday and you told your mom you'd be back around 6:00 probably and it's now almost 7:00. But ice cream does sound nice and there will only be so many evenings in your life that feel this warm and lighthearted.

"I have some homework," you mumble in one final attempt to convince yourself, "But, yeah, I could go for ice cream."

Stu nods, tapping his pointer finger against the wheel. "We'll be fast."

The yellow light doesn't affect his speed as he turns left. Your fingers press into the side of your seat. Fast. No kidding.

"You okay there, babe?" Okay, there's no way your expression was bad enough to warrant a question (especially when he should be looking at the road). He has to be baiting you. "You're looking a little green."

You force your hand to relax, "Mhm." And it is fine. At the very least, fine enough because Stu always drives like this. "Used to you driving like you're on the run."

"You're just sensitive."

The comment is more dismissive than teasing and for whatever reason, you like it less than when he makes fun of you. At least his bullying is coated in a distinct type of affection that only Stu can get away with.

You briefly consider starting one of your 'am not, are too' fights. You're definitely not above it, especially when you two are alone and no one's around to call you out for being overly childish. But if he's going to be moody over the smallest comment...

He switches lanes--without using his blinker--with a sharp turn of the wheel. "If it's that bad, you could get rides from someone else."

The comment is hard and too casual to be a threat, but still mean. It makes your stomach drop more than the way Stu maneuvers the car. You didn't say he was that bad of a driver and you definitely didn't say anything about not going out with him anymore.

There are a lot of good things about getting Stu to drive you around. You like being in his space and the music that's more often than not just a little too loud and the passenger seat that feels more like your seat. You also like the unplanned for car moments, the accidental gossip sessions in driveways and parking lots. It's part of the reason you're glad you don't have a license yet...it's an excuse to just be around him.

"I didn't--"

"Bet Randy would put up with your backseat driving." The car speeds up slightly. "He'd slow down if you gave him that look."

You frown, ruining any chance you have at arguing that that you don't have a face. You don't get what his issue is, especially with bringing up Randy. He's been making on and off comments since the movie you all watched ended.

You don't fully get it, but you guess you get Stu being a little annoyed. Randy and you had been a little obnoxious, laughing too hard at jump scares and flinching too dramatically at moments that weren't that bad. But it's not like you two were terrible. Definitely not bad enough to warrant this passive aggression.

"I don't want to drive around with Randy, I want to drive around with you." You're full on pouting and you don't even care.

Stu sighs, eyes avoiding yours in the rearview mirror. An uncomfortable warmth settles against his face. How do you always manage to do that? From anyone else, he'd hate it, but you're never trying to get anything out of it. Things like that are just offhanded comments to you. No ulterior motives. You don't even think twice about it.

"So now it's not enough enough to be driven around by anyone?"

You shrug, relaxing into your seat. "I'm spoiled."

His throat feels dry, a wave of uncomfortable fondness hitting him with no warning. He knows there's some joke he should make about how you're shameless about it, too. But he's too caught up on the amount of feeling tightening his chest.

He turns into parking lot of your usual drive-in ice cream spot.

"You're enabled."

You turn your head, smiling, "And you're the enabler."

Stu grins, moving a hand to squeeze your shoulder. "I'll enable you any time, babe."

You roll your eyes, but don't make any move to shake him off. "Enable me a--"

"Mint chocolate chip in a waffle--not sugar--cone." He recites your usual order without a second thought.

You nod once in approval. "This is why you're my favorite."

"I'm telling Billy you said that."

Scratching the back of your arm, you glare. Stu's always trying to start a fight with that. "Do not start."

He grins teasingly, "Start what?"

You glare, hoping that the look is threatening enough to make him promise to leave your comment behind. You've known Stu long enough to know that he'd happily take a you're my favorite and save it until he could use it as some sort of ammunition, exaggerating it to make sure it really hits. All that does is make him smile more. Before you can say anything else about it, Stu rolls down the window and orders.

When you get to the window, you try to pay for your own, but that ends as it usually does. He never lets you pay for anything, and when you threaten to leave cash in his car, he threatens to buy you even more things. Try it and on Monday I'm picking you up with coffee and a muffin and that new CD you were talking about. ...A lot of the times, the suggestion makes you want to stop for coffee and muffins before school anyway, so you end up getting it with him anyway.

You give in early this time, thanking him for the ice cream as he finds an empty spot to park in. You smile to yourself. Parked car time with Stu is something you enjoy a lot more than you'd ever admit. The two of you have a silent understanding that in these moments you can say things you wouldn't usually be able to say out loud. Nothing terribly cruel, just a little snarky. The kind of comments that'd get you in trouble in front of the wrong people.

Usually, you have to take the lead at first because Stu likes to act like he's too good for gossip, but once he gets started, he's worse than you.

You're still debating which of the two major topics--rumors you've heard about Susan Welch being pregnant and the weird way Madison Meyer has been acting--to bring up first when Stu breaks the silence. "You uh--" Stu cuts himself off. "You know I wouldn't--I wouldn't do anything that'd hurt you like that."

Weirdly deep comment to hear while you're holding an ice cream cone. "...Are you trying to convince me you didn't poison my ice cream?" That strange seriousness of his doesn't go away. You frown. "Yeah, come on, of course I know that."

He nods, "Yeah, just--" Stu won't look at you. "I wouldn't, and just--the car thing--"

"Stu." You've made those kinds of comments before, and it's never made him react like this. "I know that." You nudge his forearm gently. "I didn't mean it like."" He doesn't cheer up. "Seriously, if I thought you were trying to reverse-vehicular-manslaughter me, I wouldn't get in the car."

At that, he lets out a breath that's definitely trying not to be a laugh. "Would that be reverse-vehicular-manslaughter?"

"I don't know," you hum casually, pausing to eat some of your ice cream, "You're the one trying to do it." Stu glares; you grin. "Kidding." You bite off the top edge of your cone. "You know I love driving around with you--we listen to music, we talk, we gossip--"

"I don't gossip, you gossip and I let you."

You shake your head, not bringing up the fact that he always has more stuff worth saying than you do and he's snarkier than anyone would ever guess. "Then I guess I won't tell you what's up with Susan Welch."

To be fully honest, Stu couldn't care less about Susan Welch, but he likes the way you react to these sort of things. Your reactions to his side comments might be his favorite part of these moments. "She's...in our english class right?"

"Mhm," you hum, trying to downplay your excitement, "Remember how she had to leave class early the other day--like, practically ran out of the room to throw up?" You don't wait for him to respond, "That was on square pizza day--which is the day that's least likely to make someone throw up." You pause for the sake of your ice cream. "And Lucy Thompson swears Susan randomly stopped drinking, which if you've met her, makes no sense. So, Lucy thinks Susan might be..." You trail off before vaguely gesture to your stomach.

Stu's eyes narrow as he pretends to really think about what you've just said. "I don't know if that's enough to mean she's knocked up."

You shake your head once, "Lucy also said she's never in cheer practice anymore, and she started wearing baggy clothes." You sit up a little straighter, "And Missy Danes swears her older sister's friend saw Susan buying a pregnancy test in a grocery store two towns over. I know it's not proof, but it's definitely worth thinking about."

He widens his eyes, more for your sake than anything else, "Definitely." He pushes his spoon into his melting ice cream. "If she is pregnant, she's totally screwed because Ben Johnson was just bragging about hooking up with her."

Your mouth falls open in pretend shock, "No way." You lean against the center console. "You got oreo again, right?"

Stu knows exactly what that question means, "Want some?"

Your eyebrows draw together as you shake your head. "No, I'm--"

"We could trade for a little."

Another one of your traditions, each person's ice cream slowly becoming everyone's. "Another reason why you're my favorite."

"Oh, now you're begging me to tell Billy."

You dip the spoon into ice cream, digging for a particularly large oreo crumb. "I will blame it on the ice cream."

born to write cute little stories, forced to do work for classes that are about how to learn how to write cute little stories better