Warning: mentions of smut
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You woke up more relaxed than you've ever been in your entire life.
And hornier.
Being on your period did that to you sometimes-- it was a gamble, really. Usually you felt like a disgusting piece of crap the first few days, when the bleeding was heaviest and symptoms the worst. But sometimes, it just made you want to fuck literally anything in sight.
Not that you'd ever actually do that.
But now, you had someone who was willing to fulfill that desire, and he was breathing softly above your head, cradling you in his arms, and so deliciously warm and strong with each flex of his muscles, each dip of his fingers into the flesh of your waist, each shift of his hips against your back...
You seriously considered repeating the events of yesterday morning again right now. Maybe you'd be better at it, and he'd reward you with more of those pretty moans and whimpers.
Or maybe... you wriggled ever so slightly in his hold, a spark of heat shooting up your spine as you realized how close his hips were to your backside...
Anakin's breath caught, whining slightly as he realized he had woken up and now had to face the day. Groaning lowly in his throat, he tightened his hold around you so that he could roll over, settling you on top of his chest.
"Go back t'sleep," he grumbled. "'ts too early."
A couple problems with the sudden turn of events.
One, the new position with the front of your hips now pressed into his leg, applying the most delicious pressure to your center, was not exactly helping with your horny-situation.
And two, shifting like this caused you to just absolutely gush blood, and now you were unceremoniously wriggling around in his arms, a little panicked as you tried to break free before you leaked everywhere.
"Mmm, what is it?" Anakin cracked an eye open, lifting his arms so you could sit up and swing your legs off of him. He moaned dramatically again as you left the bed completely, heading straight into his bathroom to check the damage.
You had basically soaked through as you slept, but thankfully nothing had gotten on your sleep shorts, which meant nothing was on the bed. Phew. That would have been a whole other level of embarrassment, one you're not sure you could ever come back from.
But now you were just annoyed again. You wanted to get off so bad, but your stupid period was preventing you from doing that, even to yourself. It had ripped any pleasure away from you that you might have felt, too worried about getting blood anywhere to really enjoy it.
It was so fucking unfair. Guys didn't have to worry about it at all-- they could just jerk it whenever they felt like, no problem whatsoever. But you had to deal with blood, and cramps, and headaches, and a new fucking breakout on your chin that you were just now noticing, and this frustratingly bad mood that you didn't even want to be in.
You just wanted to fuck something right now, was that too much to ask for??
Anakin could feel your frazzled nerves behind the door. He leaned against it, arms crossed as he knocked a couple times with his knuckle.
"You good in there? Can I get you anything?"
Yeah. Your dick.
"No, I'm good," you answered, stuffing your underwear with toilet paper to make it back to your room. You opened the door to find him standing there and swiftly walked past, wanting nothing more than to get to your room already, and clean up, and change, and then get something to eat...
"I can make breakfast," he followed you to the door with his arms crossed over his chest, holding it open for you as you walked out. "What do you wanna eat?"
"Don't care," you dismissed, already making plans to get his dick in your mouth again later.
"You sure? You must have a preference."
"Anakin, I don't care."
Damn, was he always so ask-y?
"Okay," he defended. "Don't blame me if you don't like it then."
You turned to him and pouted. That didn't make him mad, did it?
His eyes immediately softened at your face, reaching out to cup your cheek with his hand. "Go get dressed," he said, and you were hugely grateful for his patience. "I'll be downstairs when you're ready."
You turned to go do that, but he caught your wrist before you could leave.
"Wait," he pulled you back to him. "Give me a kiss."
Okay, now he was just milking it.
You rolled your eyes, unable to hold back your smile as you tilted your head up to him. He caught the back of your head, angling you up more so that he didn't have to bend down so far, and pressed a sweet, lingering kiss against your lips that had your brain going all fuzzy.
"There," he broke apart with a small sound. "Now go get ready."
God, he was too perfect to be real.
Your cheeks burned the whole way back to your room, legs a little weak as you got cleaned up and dressed for the day. You weren't going anywhere, just hanging out until you had to get ready for the ball, and the thought of that was the only thing that put a damper on your mood now.
What were you going to wear?
You had to check out Padmé's closet as soon as you were done with breakfast, but until then you were donning a simple soft pair of sweatpants and a sweater. Definitely a little bummy, but there was no reason to dress up just yet.
Slapping your cheeks a couple times to get your shit together, you made the descent down the stairs to the kitchen where you found Anakin at the stove, cooking a big pan of eggs, and Ahsoka at the island spooning cereal into her mouth. You took the seat beside her, and Anakin promptly nudged a second cereal bowl toward you.
"Eat," he commanded without looking up, continuing to scramble the eggs.
You picked up the spoon and made a face at the bowl. "Eat."
Ahsoka giggled at your mocking tone, and you joined in when you saw Anakin's warning look.
You didn't even make it halfway through your cereal before he was scraping mounds of eggs onto you and Ahsoka's plates, so much that you had to push his hands away before it overflowed.
"Damn, I'm not that hungry," you told him, scraping some of yours onto his own plate.
"You need to eat though, Y/n."
"I am," you shoved a spoonful of cereal into your mouth pointedly.
The three of you talked about the plans for that night, and you quickly learned you'd basically be on your own for most of it. Ahsoka would be a part of the Ball, but she would have to remain on lookout from the inside. Meanwhile Anakin and Obi-Wan were taking the perimeter of the Capital, scouting the outsides for any threats against the politicians.
You had sort of hoped Anakin would be joining you in the actual event, already conjuring up a picture of him in a dark suit, dancing to a slow waltz, twirling you under his arm, catching you against his chest...
But no. He'd be in his usual Jedi attire-- no less breathtaking-- but completely out of reach. It bummed you out a little, but you knew that you'd be coming home with home no matter what, so it would be okay in the end.
After Anakin made sure you scraped your plate clean, and then dumped some more eggs on it and demand you eat that too, and you only being able to manage a bite and telling him you'd knock his teeth in if he tried to get you to eat anymore, you dropped your dishes in the washer and then made the journey back upstairs, this time to Padmé's room.
It was a lot bigger than the guest bedrooms, the bedframe elegantly carved, large wooden posts extending all the way up to the ceiling, and silky golden sheets adorning the mattress with matching pillowcases.
The walk-in closet was beside the bed, a huge vanity in front of it mirroring the whole room back to you. You crossed the plush carpet to pull open the closet door, dumbstruck at the ridiculous amount of clothes staring back at you.
She truly did have an eye for the finer things in life.
Now to decide...
You must have spent hours digging through that closet, working up a sweat as you tugged out the hangars out that caught your eye. There was literally everything you could imagine in here, for any occasion, and you reminded yourself to ask for access to her closet more often from now on.
There was a slight problem you ran into early in your foray, the thought gnawing at you all the while you sifted through her dresses. Padmé was certified tiny, and you and her weren't exactly the same size. Especially not now, all bloated from being on your period and eating so much breakfast. So it narrowed down your pick of dresses a bit to ones that weren't made of such constricting material, or ones that hadn't been tailored just for her.
After trying on a few dozen dresses, you were stuck between two. One was a light blue, a little princess-y in style, but it gave you room to move and you liked the lace embroidery on the waist, and the little shimmers in the tinsel skirt.
The other was made of a silky golden material, like the sheets on Padmé's bed, and draped down in a waterfall that hugged your curves. It was a little more form-fitting than you would have liked, and the straps were thin little strings that served no real purpose, so you definitely might be cold. But it glimmered and glowed as it caught the light, and it was so comfortable...
You were twisting and turning in front of the vanity, looking at yourself in the golden dress. You were finding your angles, checking your ass, and pulling and twisting your hair up to decide on whether or not you should do an updo when Anakin walked in.
His steps faltered when he saw you, your body jumping back as you startled at his sudden entrance, but you didn't get very far by the way his hands immediately found your waist, as if he couldn't help himself.
"Angel..." he breathed, eyes glued to your body.
You squirmed in his hold, self-conscious under that intensely ravishing gaze, knowing exactly what he was thinking in his head. You still weren't used to him seeing your body so on display like this, and you didn't even really think this dress flattered you much anyway. And now he was taking in all of your flaws shamelessly, yet somehow it looked like he wanted to start praying.
"Angels aren't real," you reminded him, pushing his hands away as you remembered what he'd said about Padmé. She was his angel at one point-- you did not want to be compared to her.
"I'm beginning to think I was wrong."
"Ugh, you're such a loser," you gave up trying to get his hands off of you. They just kept coming back, glued to your waist, your hip, your arm, your shoulder, feeling every bit of the soft, silken fabric he could as he urged you closer.
He was kissing you now, the butterflies back in your stomach as he took your lips in a claiming way. He was a little less gentle, a little less caring than usual as he swallowed your breaths, forcing a surprised noise from your throat, licking into your mouth and tasing his sweet angel.
"Seriously," it was a sin to push your hand against his chest, disconnecting his lips from you all too soon. "I'm not as innocent as you think."
"Oh?"
You knew he was going to get a laugh out of this later, when you told him you really were kind of innocent-- in a sense-- but you really wanted to drive it home right now that you were not Padmé. You might be sleeping in her house, and wearing her dress, and kissing her ex, but you and her were completely different sides of a coin. And it would always remain that way.
"I'm not an angel," you repeated. "Don't call me that."
"So then what are you?" he was teasing you, fingers ghosting up your sides, gentle and tickling as he reached the thin straps and nudged them over your shoulders.
Your blood flared hot, knees growing weak as you realized the implication of that simple motion.
Your mind was too cloudy from his charm, all you could think of was kissing that cocky smirk off his face. You didn't even bother to answer before rushing forward to taste those swollen lips again.
He caught you with a hand to the small of your back, pressing you into him before suddenly dipping down and catching the backs of your legs with his other arm. Your gasp cut off as he slammed back into your lips, annoyed that you kept breaking the kiss as he walked the few steps to the bed and set you down atop the covers.
Your hands grasped at his shoulders, searching for support as he wasted no time pressing you further into the mattress, desperate lips bruising your mouth, hands bracketing your head, knee sliding between your own.
You couldn't remember how to think as feasted on you, barely giving you time to even breathe before he was stealing the rest of your senses, hot tongue meeting yours, sucking at your swelling lips.
You rolled your hips, the heat between them slamming back into you like a tidal wave so fast your head pounded as the blood rushed from it. You searched for friction, something to ease the aching of your throbbing clit, knowing that the closest thing was his knee that he kept just out of reach.
You would have to just do it yourself then, you thought, too desperate to wait up for him.
He could tell exactly what you planned as you slipped your hands from his shoulders, catching them in midair and forcing them back to the bed with a bruising grip.
Fuck.
There was no time to say anything else as he swallowed your whines, disappointed and growing more and more frustrated at the burning heat growing between your legs. You needed to get off. Now. You've needed it for days, and suddenly he was denying it from you?
His fingers answered that question for you. Oh. He wanted to do it himself, you realized, as they nudged up the skirt of your dress, bunch the material up as it went.
You whimpered into his mouth, anticipation outweighing your nerves, too needy to keep still as his fingers grew closer and closer to where you needed him. Your cheeks and lips burned, a light layer of sweat dotting your brow as Anakin broke away from your lips with a wet sound, moving to kiss under your jaw, down your neck, licking and sucking and biting marks all over the delicate skin.
A particularly pathetic moan escaped your lips as he sucked on the junction of your neck and shoulder, teeth nibbling and tongue soothing as he dragged you into this foreign territory. You'd never imagined something like this could feel so good-- but the probing pressure of his soft lips against your sensitive skin caused your heat to gush, your fingers clenching into fists against the invisible hold on them, your back arching off the bed as Anakin claimed you as his.
Gold, on gold, on gold.
And then his fingers met the outline of your panties, resting all pretty and soft for him atop your waist, and he was mumbling something against your throat.
"I don't mind if you don't mind."
Fuck.
Your period.
You almost growled, so desperately in need of any kind of pleasure, it was beginning to remind you of how you felt back on that carriage. Only now the possible reality of Anakin's hands on you, touching you right on your pulsing clit, coaxing that sweet pleasure out of you... it brought tears to your eyes.
Just the thought him taking his hands off of you now was like a heartbreak in its own, so you didn't bother to answer him before rolling your hips up to meet his hands, urging him in a silent plea to keep going. It wasn't a yes, as the fact that you were on your period was kind of like a butcher's block in a situation like this, but it also wasn't a no. You wanted to keep going for as long as you could.
Anakin released whatever force he'd been using to hold your hands to the bed, convinced you'd be good enough not to try that again. He was right-- they flew to the sides of his head as he painted a line down your chest with his lips and tongue, tasting all of the new skin there and savoring it for later.
You dug your fingers into his curls, body writhing beneath his touch, the nerves in your stomach growing stronger and stronger with every inch he moved down your body. You could feel his lips press warm and full over the silk of your dress, right against your navel, and then he was kneeling to the floor.
Your heart stopped. Breathing stuttered. And then you were slammed with a heat rivalling that of the sun as it filled your face.
He was still kissing you, switching from hipbone to hipbone, trailing down and down and down with his face growing closer to the space between your legs, your dress pushed up almost over your hips, his arms snaking under and around your thighs to hold them tight in his steely grip--
He looked up at you under the messy flare of his bangs, eyes dark and cloaked in lust. And just seeing the sweet, handsome face of the man that you had always been in love with, now knelt to the floor between your thighs, about to do who knows what to you--
You pushed his face back.
"No. Nope. Can't do it." Your voice was high, breathless, yet firm in your decision.
"Baby," he hung his head, like he'd been expecting that. But he loosened his arms and let you wriggle out of his grasp, sitting back on the bed and pulling down your dress.
"What?! You can't tell me you want to do that right now."
You were still throbbing for attention, but your nerves had waged a full scale attack on your body, and all you could feel was nauseous and flighty.
You couldn't believe you'd almost let him--
"There's ways around it."
God, it only made it so much more difficult that he was so willing. So determined.
"Anakin," you pleaded for him to understand. You just couldn't do it. Not yet.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry," He stood to his full height, leaning over the bed and cupping your cheek in his palm again that way he always liked to do, and kissed you one last time.
"You really do look beautiful, by the way," he smiled reassuringly.
And then he tugged your dress down the rest of the way, smoothing your hair back from where it had gotten tangled, and left you all alone in the room-- a blushing, panting, worked-up mess, all splayed out on Padmé's crumpled golden sheets, pulse still thrumming at a pace you weren't sure was yours or Anakin's.