Hi! I Don't Know If You Are Still Taking Requests, But If It's So, Can We Please Get An Atsumu X Reader

I'm a slut for you, I won't deny it, I'm not trying to hide it.

I'm living on my knees, fuck me till I scream.

aren’t promises meant to be broken?

at 17 sirius promised to always be there for you whenever you need him. now 3 years after your break up, sirius has yet to break this promise.

tags: sirius black x f!reader,, magical nuisances,, exes to friends to lovers,, hurt and comfort,, fluff,, angst,, slytherins + pandora,, no voldy

a/n: took me an embarrassing amount of time to finish but i’m kinda soft for this fic ngl

people never stay friends with their exes. even with the promises of being one when breaking up. most find it, understandably, too awkward to continue any sort of relationship with them.

you would have been one of those people, at least you think so. but certain circumstances have deemed this preference a futile thought.

“i can’t believe you got me here to clean your bathroom.” sirius glared, peeling off the rubber gloves off his hands and slumping down on the breakfast nook.

“someone had to do it.” you shrugged, “it wouldn’t be the first time,” you smiled, vanishing the gloves and cleaning the table too. before placing a plate in front of him filled with sausages, toast and beans.

“that’s the fucked up part! it isn’t even my first time doing this.” he groans, grabbing a fork that you immediately slapped away.

“wash your hands first, you animal.”

he whines a protest but gets up anyway, rubbing his slapped hands as he does so—pouting because he’s dramatic like that.

“aren’t you going to eat with me?” he asks, his back turned to you as he washes his hands.

you were almost going to say yes, out of habit, having done so numerous times before. but remembered belatedly, the date set up by regulus with one of his work colleagues. a proper fit to you, he said. “no, i’m meeting somebody for dinner later.”

he closes the tap, turning to you again. “dinner? with who?”

you clicked your tongue at the dripping mess he’s making on the floor. grabbing paper towels and tossing it to him to wipe it himself. “some bloke from regulus’ work.”

“regulus? another date then?”

you nodded, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the idea of talking about dates your ex’s brother set you up with.

he frowned. going back to the table and grabbing the fork to start eating the warm food. “i see,”

and that was, thankfully, the end of that.

you didn’t really want to delve into your dating life with anyone, much less your ex-boyfriend of all people—no matter how many times he cleans your bathroom. it was already morbidly pathetic, how your friends seem to think you needed help finding someone new and to move on with.

but in your defence, it is rather difficult finding someone who would be okay with your, er, arrangement with your ex.

it is all sirius’ fault, really, but what isn’t? accidentally making a magically-binding promise to you, seems just like the type of thing he would do. and he has.

ever since he made that promise at 17 when you’ve just started dating, sirius has been showing up in your life, ready to help you with anything you need. you thought of this is in a more figurative sense, but no. that was too simple.

instead, whenever you need something. maybe something as simple as scratching your back, to partaking in a monthly bathroom cleaning, sirius would just appear out of thin air into your house, or wherever you need him, and he would be required to do it else he wouldn’t be able to leave.

when you were dating, this was something you both enjoyed, sometimes even looked forward to. using it as an excuse to latch unto each other the whole day. but now, having been spilt for how many years now (3 but who’s counting?) you can imagine how this magic promise has become a nuisance in your everyday life.

you tried resisting it, of course. though the power of will and mental fortitude can only do so much when you can’t reach the top shelves of your kitchen. forget about avoiding your ex, when he can just pop in whenever, wherever, when you get so much as a paper cut. you can see how the novelty of the situation can run its course. so much so, you sort of just learn how to deal with it instead of fighting it.

you’ve learned to use this to your advantage, of course, making him do chores around the house, makes him a great house elf without the moral issues of owning one.

he was also quite reluctant, when you both broke up, but that was to be expected. he had tried moving away to france, thinking the distance might prevent him from showing up. but that only made it difficult to explain to the travel officers how he can exit the country without violating travel wizarding laws.

regardless of the reluctant acceptance of such peculiar arrangement, you still have that hope you can somehow reverse it.

this particular hope always trampled by your friends’ insistence to utilize your situation to your extreme satisfaction.

“i don’t understand why you would want to remove it, to be honest.” dorcas frowned flipping through the pages of magical vows and contracts, vol.2. “i mean if i had someone doing things for me all day long, i certainly wouldn’t complain.”

“are you joking? why would anyone want to stay bound to their ex?”

she looked over to you, tone playfully mocking, but mocking regardless. “you mean an ex who does everything you need him to?”

“well, how would you feel if lily was always around you doing stuff for you?”

“oh please, if lily was bound to me, cleaning my bathroom wouldn’t be the only thing she would be doing.”

you grimace, “spare me the details, i beg of you.”

“so you wouldn’t like it if you and sirius partook… in certain late night activities?” she hummed.

you sputter out scandalized gasps, face feeling gruesomely warm, “don’t be disgusting! i have no intentions of ever doing anything with him and i assume he share the sentiments, a-and it is appalling that you think so—!” you breathed in deep, willing your face to relax and to settle your wild heart. “i don’t need him to be anything other than a reluctant acquaintance.”

pandora laughs from the floor, “not even considering him as a friend? poor sirius.”

you huff, embarrassed and frankly a bit betrayed.

you friends have convinced themselves of sirius’ intentions to be more than what is required of him. pushing you of all people to act upon seducing him using your gods given womanly assets, as pandora had once labelled.

you abruptly stood up from the table, going over to the stove to reheat the water to make more tea. “besides, i am perfectly capable of handling things by myself, thank you very much.”

it’s dorcas who laughs this time, “what do you mean? just last week, he had to bandage your finger for you because you bit your cuticle to blood. you are entirely dependent on him at this point.”

you huff, “i am not. i am a woman capable of attending to my own needs. that was the bind’s requirements of it all, i have to let him do these things or the bond won’t ever let him leave, you know this already.” you groan, rolling your eyes. “my point still stands. i don’t need him, nor will i ever need him. i just want all of this out of my life and in the past, like it should have been.”

“doesn’t he have his own room in this house by now?”

“it’s not his room, it’s a guest room— that he frequently uses. there’s a difference.”

it was pandora munching on peanuts, wholly amused that responded next, “right,” she drawled, “and that’s why he has his clothes folded and tucked away in the closet.”

“oh piss off, the nuisance sometimes happens in the middle of the night. how could i let him go home so late? what kind of host would i be?”

“couldn’t he just go home straight after?” dorcas asks.

“is it a nuisance, still?” pandora asks.

you cross your arms, petulant, “he can, but he chooses not to. and yes, still.” you scoff, “i know you think something filthy is happening but i particularly don’t enjoy his impromptu trespasses, believe me.”

“i don’t know, you two seem to be getting along quite well.”

“me and that useless oaf? are you joking?”

pandora smiled sweetly, “hardly useless now, i hear.”

“and what did you hear?”

“takes care of you quite well, what with dinner invites with the potters and even travelling?”

you turned around, fiddling with the tea cups, hoping to hide your darkening flush. but you know it did nothing, judging by their giggles.

“travelling?” dorcas inquired, interest piqued.

you don’t see her but you can sense her teasing smile.

you have yet to share that tidbit of embarrassing info to her. mainly because you don’t know how to squeeze it in and you don’t know how to even begin.

you did go to the potters for one random dinner. the invite came after sirius had come and helped you arrange your home library. it was just a simple dinner. filled with other people, hardly anything scandalous.

the travelling together was accidental. you were off to travel with bloke #4, as graciously dubbed by sirius (someone regulus had set you up with at the time) off to a romantic getaway for the weekend to a hot spring up the mountains. only to get thirsty halfway through your trip and have sirius show up in your train compartment only in his boxers and fluffy bunny slippers.

there were no other stops in the train. anti apparition wards set up and the floo connection was severed in the hotel to promote exclusivity, sirius had to join in on the activities through his relentless insistence. he had ate and laughed obnoxiously loud - sitting dangerously close to you the entire trip. he had constantly went on a tangent, reminiscing about your past relationship ranging from random dates to the make out spots you’ve frequented together in hogwarts. safe to say that was the last time you’ve heard from bloke #4.

but you could hardly think to be upset about that. you quite… enjoyed yourself.

but you’ll be damned before you admit that to these two vultures.

taking a deep breath, “there was no dinner invites nor travelling. it was—“

“magical nuisance, yes, yes.” pandora waves off.

you roll your eyes again, grabbing the hot kettle to steep the tea. “stop trying to make things—ah! fuck, ow.” you hiss, holding your painfully warm, stinging fingers. you see the tiny boils already appearing on your skin, the piercing pain shooting through your fingers. you squeezed your hand, hoping to elevate some of the pain.

sirius made a quick move to grab your wrists to pull you to the sink. you didn’t even hear him arrive.

“what happened?” he asks, silver eyes looking at you in intense worry. softly holding your hand under the cold running water gliding down your hand. he was standing so close to you you could smell a tiny hint of his soap. you slowly start to relax.

that is before you catch dorcas’ glinting gaze and pandora’s knowing smile. both of which you vehemently ignore, as you stare at your red fingers and his much larger hand on yours.

“i burned my fingers on the kettle.”

“goodness love, you have to be more careful.”

“sorry.” you mumbled, but having no idea why you would even apologize in the first place. still, you feel the heat of your hand spread to your body.

dorcas, having stood up to help you sat back down again, “hello, sirius. right on time as always.” she called, a cetain lilt in her voice you nervously recognized.

“sirius black, what a coincidence.” pandora sing songs, no subtlety whatsoever.

oh, they are just the worst.

he regarded them both in an overly familiar smile (an ex shouldn’t give to his ex’s friends) and in a light teasing tone as he says “good evening, ladies. why do i get the feeling like you’ve been gossiping about me?”

“you might have been mentioned once or twice.” pandora shrugged.

sirius softly laughs, the sound barely heard over the sink, before he stares at your fingers again, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive skin. before looking at you with a teasing smirk to which you only roll your eyes at.

you see shuffling in your peripheral, meeting your friend’s eyes, you see them gesture to you and sirius. trying to wordlessly communicate to you with wide smiles. you imagine something akin to, see? what did we tell you? not useless right? nuisance my ass. look at you guys holding hands under the water.

as if just realizing it now, you pull your hand away from his grip in an embarrassed haste, as he slowly lets go with a small frown etched on his face.

drying his hands on the towel, as he leans down to unnecessarily whisper to you. “i’m going to get a burn salve, i’ll be quick.”

“it’s in the—“

“bathroom, yes, angel, i know. just wait for me.” he drawled, giving you a wry smile.

you stare at his retreating figure. you almost want to laugh at his serious reaction to a simple burn from a kettle. hardly calls for any salve. but you kept the comments in, for whatever reason. a fluffy, dangerous feeling erupting in your chest.

you hear dorcas whistle to get your attention, a smirk on her face, “angel?”

when the promise first happened, it was during graduation from hogwarts. absolutely gutted by the fact that your parents didn’t show. they’ve been vocal about their disappointment that you weren’t able to finish at the top of your class. but you had hoped they would still show. you were, after all, still their kid.

but there was noticeably empty seats in an area reserved for your family. so, naturally as any teenager, the next best thing you could do in the situation is cry alone in a bathroom.

though the lack of company didn’t last too long, because then your boyfriend appeared, looking to be in a middle of taking pictures if his big and goofy face is anything to go by.

he heard you, before he saw you. hearing your soft sniffles and the tiny hiccups from your mouth. at the time, you both didn’t question what had happen. why he was inside the girl’s bathroom, why is there a strange pull to follow your every whims. but he was suddenly there to comfort you, and make you smile again—who were you deny his services?

you both only managed to understand what was happening by the third time it happened. sirius suddenly appearing by your bedside, wet and covered in suds. he was in the middle of showering and you promptly freaked out, seeing large bits you weren’t ready to see yet.

but understanding why it was happening didn’t mean both of you would be prepared anytime it actually happened.

the bind didn’t pick and choose when, where, and why he would appear. there was an embarrassing moment when he showed up in the bathroom when you’ve ran out of tissue paper. also at your house during dinner when you needed salt, to which your parents justifiably freaked out at the sight of a boy, claiming to be your boyfriend.

this hasn’t changed years later.

now as you lie in your bed, feeling the scratchy feeling in your throat. you knew by the tingles in your arms. the thrumming static of your magic within you— letting you know of his arrival before you could even sit up.

there he was, your ex-boyfriend, like the days before. it was terribly late, and he was struggling to even stand straight as he yawns in the middle of your room, wearing a set of well-loved teddy bear pajamas.

“somethin’ wrong baby?” his voice deep, hoarse and low. something exciting spiking through your veins, making you more awake.

you knew, if he was more alert he wouldn’t have called you that.

you try not to think why you feel miffed by that fact.

“jus’ some water please.” you call softly from your bed.

he yawns again, rubbing his flat belly, “okay.” he breathes, walking in the darkness of your room with practiced ease.

you hear the small sounds of clanks in the kitchen, and the fridge being pulled open.

he knew you liked you water cold. he knew where your drinking glasses were. he knew where you keep the salves. he knew your apartment in the dark.

in the beginning, especially after your relationship ended, you associated this binding promise as an act of forceful requirement. at best, you see it as a favour you give to a stranger. but lately, especially in the quiet of your house, the pet names that keeps slipping out of his mouth as of late—you start to dangerously think of this as something else. as something more. as something painfully familiar.

he comes back quiet, siting on the bed near your thighs, as he hands you the cool, moist glass. his hair was tousled more than usual. there were sleeping marks on his face. he was probably already asleep before you needed him here.

you feel a little bit guilty, but you see his flushed cheeks through the soft glow of the moon outside your window, and the hooded gaze he desperately tries to keep open. you fight back a smile instead.

“is that all, baby?” his hand softly smoothing your hair at the back of your head. your room felt ridiculously warm.

“thank you.” you murmured before setting the glass on the bedside table.

he gives you one last sleepy smile, eyes closed and his hair toppling over his eyes. “okay, if that’s all—“

“are you going back?” you cut in, holding his wrist, your finger on his pulse. keeping him seated before he could even stand. before his warmth leaves your bed.

“i don’t have to..” he offers. like always, giving you the choice to draw the line.

you hesitate before you answer, letting go of his wrist, “it’s late..” and that’s all you say, and apparently that’s all he needs.

“is it alright then, if i stay the night? then i can leave in the morning?” he whispers back. his warm hand, touching your thigh over the covers. he felt so far away.

you don’t do this, not usually. but in the dark space of your room you feel more confident. more assured. braver.

you move slightly to the side, giving him space, “if you want.” conveniently forgetting the existence of the spare room. choosing to blame it on the lack of sleep.

he smiles, moving the covers. the short moment of exposure making you shiver in the cold. he notices, quickly sliding into bed with you. arms stiffly on his sides and yours crossed across your chest.

still not brave enough.

you feel him shuffle, laying on his side and facing you. his fingers just barely grazing your sides in a soft touch.

you fell asleep faster than any other night, hearing him breath near your ear.

you dream of a teary conversation from a time not so long ago, of desperate pleas not to leave you. and when you feel his arm curl around your waist. you dreaming of nothing for the rest of night.

the next morning, you woke up later than you would have, and see the too empty space next to you. the pang in your chest, grossly familiar.

it had been a month since the night he’s stayed with you. not a breath has been acknowledged about that night. choosing to ignore the lingering tension, the long stares and the awkward dispositions.

you don’t know whether to feel relieved or frustrated.

of course, your friends had noticed this - because hadn’t they been analyzing each of your move when it comes to sirius black?

dorcas eventually had to force it out of you. to which pandora squealed and teased you in delight. insistent of the blooming change in your relationship.

“blooming change?” you repeated.

“what? it’s poetic!” she argues.

“it’s dumb,” regulus calls out. “y/n isn’t the kind to return to an ex, especially not to my dumb brother, right y/n?” he looks so earnestly confident. so much so that you couldn’t even lie to agree with him. truth be told, you have no idea if you were even the type to go back, regardless if it was reggie’s dumb brother or not.

because sirius has been your first boyfriend and if this bind continues on, he might be your last. you don’t know if that’s a good thing, all things considered.

everyone has turned to you now, in varying degrees of smugness, amusement, pride and playful pity.

dorcas laughs, saving you from answering. “i don’t know reggie, seems like y/n’s getting a little swayed.”

reggie reacts for you, as if offended. “she is not! she is actively going on dates and meeting new people.”

“oh?” dorcas smirked.

barty, sitting up straighter, “doesn’t he have a room here or something?”

you say, “no,“ “yes.” pandora quips, at the same time.

you rolled your eyes, “it’s a guest room—“

“one that conveniently went unused in one random night.” evan hummed, smirking, as he blew his smoke out the window.

pandora and dorcas ooh’ed.

“it was late! he was practically dragging himself from the floor, i couldn’t let him hurt himself after i interrupted his sleep, a-and he was already there, it’d be rude not to—i don’t even know why i’m explaining myself to you!— i don’t have to explain myself, because i did nothing wrong.” your met with four amused looks and one gut wrenchingly, disappointed one.

dorcas clicked her tongue, “i don’t know why you’re even fighting it at this point.”

“what do you mean by that?”

“i mean, you clearly want to be with him still.”

you sputter, sitting straighter, indignant as you say, “what gave you that idea?”

“the longing gaze.”

“acting all shy.” barty adds.

“the late night rendezvous,” evan hums.

“giving him his own room.” pandora pointedly looked at you.

“the inability to pursue any other relationship after him.” regulus tutted.

you gasp, betrayed. “even you reggie?”

regulus rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and legs, “i am running out of eligible acquaintances to set you up with, you know.”

you don’t even know how to respond to that.

frankly you can’t. because you know they were right, and dammit if that didn’t hurt your pride just a little.

still, ridiculously hung up on an ex that didn’t even love you. a joke, really.

but you relish in the idea of sirius being near you. it sends a certain tingle down your spine just knowing he’ll arrive anytime, and be there for you. you like how he always stands so close to you even if he doesn’t have to. you like how you don’t have to tell him what he has to do before he does it. you like the pet names naturally slipping past his pretty mouth. how he’s always touching you in some way. how familiar it feels. the habits, the conversations, the feelings—how easy it all seems.

but it isn’t. you know it isn’t.

because you’ve tried and failed.

you fell for him, loved him the way you know how. leaving nothing for yourself as you give everything for him. loving him with no expectations for him to do the same. and so, he doesn’t.

he couldn’t love you back. at least not in the way you entirely feel for him.

he couldn’t look past his life and the experiences he’d endured just to reach that moment in the past. it wrecked you. you didn’t expect anything, but it still hurt when you got nothing for everything you had.

you don’t like the reminder, but you know you need it. you know how destroying it is to forget. you’ve tried being with him already and it didn’t work. you say this to them, whispered, as if ashamed.

you don’t even feel the tears sliding down your check as you say this.

dorcas’ smile dropped and pandora immediately sat down beside you.

“hey, you know it won’t be like that again.” pandora rubbing your shoulders.

“do i?” you rasped. “what’s so different about now than before? what’s to stop us from breaking up again?”

“it’s going to be different because you are different, and so is he.” dorcas said. “you were just teenagers, you barely knew yourselves back then. you weren’t ready for each other yet. he had issues to work out, and you had to grow up a little to understand that.”

you sniffled, “and you think we’re ready.”

“yes,” they all said.

dorcas reaching over and squeezing your hand, “i know you’re both ready.”

you shake your head, you don’t know if that’s true, “our forced proximity lasted longer than our actually relationship. and it’s only lasted this long because it’s just that—forced.”

pandora shook her head, dangling earrings clinking together. “that’s not true. it’s lasted this long because you wanted it to. you both wanted it to.”

evan nodded, smothering his cigarette butt and throwing it outside, “i, personally, wouldn’t want to spend any second with any of my exes, but you both didn’t even try finding any sort of solution to break the promise.”

barty gives you an awkward smile, as evan continues “if you had wanted to call it quits you would’ve found a way to end all of this the moment he had broken up with you. but you didn’t—“

“that’s because i couldn’t—“

“don’t lie,” regulus cut in, pouting, looking a bit like a petulant child. “we all know you could have found something in this ridiculously large library of yours.”

“why are you suddenly advocating for sirius and i to get back together again?”

regulus clicked his tongue, looking away. a slight flush on his cheeks. “i’m not advocating anything.” he huffs. “he’s an idiot who doesn’t deserve you. but if it’s sirius that ultimately makes you happy. then so be it.”

you swallow a lump, breathing a staggering breath, “i don’t know if he even—“

“he does.” regulus looking at you, eyes clear and sure. “he wouldn’t be so cross with me for setting you up with dates if he doesn’t.”

that same night, sirius, for once, was not summoned by you but of a call from regulus.

he already feels the natural flare of irritation, bracing himself for another round of teasing hums and provoking stories about how you’re on a date in an exclusive restaurant, with a bloke who’s ready to give you everything you need.

standing up from james’ couch, going to the kitchen to block the noise from the muggle telley, as remus called it. then accepting the call,

“i swear if you’re calling just to gloat about another conquest you’ve put her through then—“

“she needs you.” regulus slurred.

feeling an immediate spike in his heartbeat. already grabbing his jacket and hurrying to the front door to leave.

“we’re in a pub, bring your motorbike or something, she can’t apparate right now, too drunk.”

“i’ll be there in 10.” grabbing remus’ keys off a bowl in the entrance.

“oi, where the hell are you taking my car?” remus shrieked from the couch.

without looking back, “she needs me.”

peter whines from the living room, “but the game-!”

and he only slams the door close as a response.

“we’re in the east village, near a fountain.” regulus sluggishly explained before hanging up.

sirius wasn’t the best driver. in hindsight, he probably should have asked remus to drive him to you. but this was about you. he could hardly think about anything else when it comes to you. he would do anything for you, binding promise or not.

he found it particularly odd and extremely worrying, why you’re drinking on a thursday night. he knew you couldn’t handle your alcohol well, always ending up drinking too much and passing out.

considering regulus had to call him to come get you didn’t help his nerves as he drove faster than the limit allowed.

when he arrived expecting the worse, he found himself smiling at the sight of you.

you were laying your head on regulus lap as you both sat on the bench. he can hear barty and pandora trying to lift each other. dorcas and evan cheering them on.

but all he can see is you laying there. eyes closed and cheeks darkly flushed, dress splaying over your thighs. regulus smoothing your hair, lulling you to sleep. when he met his brother’s eyes. the younger black rolled his eyes and beckoned him over.

“took you long enough.” regulus grumbled, now sounding sober than when he called.

“is she okay?” sirius asks, crouching down and staring at your sleeping face for any signs of discomfort or pain.

regulus sighs, “just got a bit carried away, this one. she was… upset tonight so we let her have her fun an—“

“upset?” sirius cuts, couldn’t help the finger tracing your cheek and jaw. your nose twitching at his action. “why was she upset?”

regulus waves his hand, making vague gestures but offering no explanation. sirius frowns.

“i can take her home,” standing up, now as he calls out to the others. “does anybody else need a ride?”

all four heads, shook their heads and offered varying words of thanks. “you reggie?”

“don’t bother, i’m perfectly capable.” he tuts. “be careful of that metal beast.”

with slow movements, sirius slides his arms under your neck and the back of your thighs. making sure your dress stay tucked and you comfortably napping before lifting you up.

once lifted, your head turns to the crevice of his neck, burying your nose and breathing in deep. wrapping your own arms around his neck with practiced ease and familiarity.

his heart thrumming and slowing all the same. he likes you like this, so close to him and looking so content as you do now.

nodding his goodbyes to the others, as he walks to the car again. opening the car door proved to be a challenge what with an armful of you. but he managed to do so without jostling you too much. he didn’t want to wake you, but such actions proved to be futile as the moment you were placed in the passenger seat, you froze awake.

he tries to appease you with a gentle smile, brushing your hair behind your ear. “hi love, i’m getting you home today, is that alright?”

“siri?” you rasp, looking at him like he wasn’t real. his chest pounding as he sees your eyes glossing and shining with unshed tears. he immediately crouch down in front of you, grabbing of your hands, and peppering soft kisses on your knuckles.

“what is it, my love, why are you crying?”

“you’re here?”

he nodded, kissing your knuckles again. “i’m here.”

you said nothing, just staring at him. looking so lost and tearful. he feels a little guilty thinking you to be heart-clenchingly adorable, right now. looking so soft and precious, the urge to stay the night in the parking lot and just stare at you was strong but he knows he has to take you home, else you get sick.

he thought you were to say nothing else. so, he stood to close the door and head to the driver’s seat but you whined. tugging at his hand still in your clasp and pull him to you. tucking his head into your neck and burying your hand in his hair.

this is entering dangerous territories now, he thinks. one he very much like to continue venturing but he knows you weren’t sound of mind right now. so he refrains from touching you anymore than he has. his hands desperately clutching to the cold, hard car, substituting for your soft, pretty skin.

you whine, “don’t go.”

“‘m not going anywhere, baby. i’m just going to the seat next to you.” he mumbled, his lips agonizingly grazing your skin, he ignores the way your body shivers and the filthy thoughts that come with it. his hands gripping the car tighter.

“next to me?”

“yes, next to you.”

you eventually let him go, but not without constant coaxing.

he drives, slow and steady. avoiding potholes and uneven roads. you fell asleep again, from the slow, quiet drive and the soft, mellow music coming from the radio.

then sooner than he had liked, he parks in front of your house. he kills the engine and he whispers his calls to you. not sure whether he wants you awake to be feeling okay enough to walk or asleep so he can touch you again.

he moves when you stay quiet, doing everything he can to keep you from waking up. letting out a soft hiss each time a creak or a thump echoes in your quiet house.

when he finally, finally reaches your bedroom and lays you there, he’s quick to take off your shoes. then the realization of his next move taunts him. although, you looked very pretty with your dress, he doesn’t know if he should change your clothes into something more comfortable for you.

he knew an intense hungover when he sees one. getting up to change clothes isn’t pleasant with a raging headache. he stares at your laying figure. the thin strap of your dress slipped down, and your legs looking longer than he remembers.

he looks away before he sees anymore. it didn’t feel right, looking at you that way. especially whilst unconscious.

he open your dresser, knowing the drawer you keep your pajamas.

he sees a familiar, more faded than he remembers, shirt he always wore. the thought of you wearing his clothes makes him too happy and giddy for an adult man.

he fights his heart from beating too loudly. afraid you’ll hear. bites his lips to stop his giddy grin, and forces his eyes to focus on his search. but eventually did land on his old shirt and some long bottoms so you’d be warm.

he slid the bottoms first. careful not to touch your skin but very much feeling the heat of your thigh. he held his breath as he reached the curve of your bum. stopping and not knowing what to do next. with one arm he lifts you slightly off the bed. and with his eyes clenched tight, fast and frantic hands—holding his breath as he went to pull it up.

next was his your shirt. he had you sit up, head laying heavy on his shoulders. softly pulling back from you to slip the shirt over your head before letting you lean into him again. guiding your arms and pulling the soft tee down.

with a bated breath, he feels for the zipper at the back of your dress.

fingers touching and sliding over your back. the touch leaving a lingering static in his fingers. when he clutched the thin tiny thing, he slide it down. slowly, careful not to pinch your skin.

he hears you sigh from relief, letting himself smile, knowing he did a good job.

he lets you lay back down, properly this time, slip off your dress, cleans your face with a warm wet face towel.

he knows he should go. he knows to let you get your rest and sleep. knows he should return remus’ car. knows the lads are probably waiting for him. but there is no urge to leave. instead he stares at your clean bare face, the soft lines and pretty marks on your face just adds more to your allure.

he didn’t know how long he stared at you. it could’ve been a minute to a full hour, too busy studying your face, seeing all the new marks and the familiar ones, committing them to memory.

he was about to leave, lest he bothers you and wake you up. but you stirred.

stretching as you did so. and blearily stared at him. expectant and quiet.

your voice hoarse but genuine all the same. “it’s late..” he knew what you mean. the unspoken invitation, just like last time.

and he wants to—god he wants to.

“i can’t baby,” you were drunk, he wasn’t. it wouldn’t be fair.

“you’re leaving again?”

that did him in, slumping down on the bed. rubbing your outer thigh through your covers. “i’ll stay then, just rest.”

“but you’ll just leave me like last time.” you mumbled.

he gives you a lopsided smile, apologetic and painfully endeared all the same, “i had to, my love, i had work.”

“no,” you breathed, softly shaking your head, letting out a staggering breath like you were going to cry. “i meant the first time.” you whispered.

it was shameful the way he slowly realized what you had meant. you didn’t sound angry or bitter. or even resentful even if you had all the rights to.

he didn’t respond. letting your words stew in his mind. the quiet in the entire house emphasized by the ringing in his ears. he didn’t know what to say.

what words you were waiting for him to say. what words he can say to make it all better.

he didn’t even know you still think about that. still thinking about your relationship, and what had happened, and why it ended the way it did.

still thinking about it like him, who sometimes find it difficult to sleep thinking about you and the pain he caused you. the regret heavy in his veins like lead.

he should apologize, probably beg or grovel about the way it ended.

he was about to.

but he hears your soft breathing again. the stillness in your body, only sleep can make that he realizes he’s lost his chance.

again.

he rubbed your thighs, still. hoping to lull you into a deeper sleep. he grabbed a glass of cold water and put a statis charm so it would stay cool. he petted your hair, and caressed your cheek. it was painful, and he struggled. but he eventually left. feeling the same amount of fulfilled and disappointment altogether.

it was the next morning where sirius was beckoned again, this time not by a call from his baby brother but by the usual pull of your magic. he had expected as much, even fixed up his hair and wore fresh clean clothes and even put on perfume.

he did it whenever he could. in case you were to need him.

he even has a couple of hungover potion in his pocket just in case.

when he got summoned, popping into your familiar bedroom like the nights and mornings before. he was greeted with you still buried under the covers, eyebrows scrunched and eyes already open. you looked like you’ve been awake for some time now, but still refused to move.

you looked so tired and groggy and so soft and warm and homely and pretty.

someone with a hungover shouldn’t look as good as you did. but you are. he ignores the flutters in his stomach, tightening into a coil and puts on an easy smile.

“good morning dizzy girl.” he sing songs. plopping down on your bed, making sure to bounce you a little as he did.

you groan some more, turning away from him, holding your head.

he softly laughs. reaching over to smooth out your hair, “did you drink water?”

“hn.”

he took that as a no.

“up you go, c’mon. drink, you’ll feel better.” he grabs the glass. still filled full and cool like last night.

sliding his rough hands under your neck and the other to your back. slowly sitting you up so you can drink. you give little to no protest at all at his touch and considers this a win. his lips feeling a little wobbly as he fights a smile.

you took a small sip and then a larger gulp, sighing after finishing the whole glass.

“i also have a hangover potion and a headache one that lily made, so you know it’s good—“

“you left again.” you rasped, a small frown on your pretty face, still turned away from him.

he stops.

it suddenly dawns on him how you’ve yet to look at him, or greet him like you do when he always appears. he chalked it up to you being hungover or the highly probable headache you must have. not sulking, or possible moping over the fact that he hadn’t waited for you until morning.

he feels his heart take up larger room than normal in his chest. the loud thrumming under his veins as his magic comes to life, the burning desire of it all, the ringing in his ears, his pulse loud and the heat coming to his face.

you weren’t playing fair.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, scooting near you. reaching out to wrap his arms around your shoulders, then lightly tugging you to him, to lean on him like you did the night before. it was through his absolute delight that you let him.

giving him the courage to continue his ministrations.

“you said you’d stay.” you softly whined, voice muffled by his neck. your hands gripping his shirt.

so unfair.

he’s fully hugging you now. he tries to fight the sigh that threatens to come out of his mouth from having you in his arms again.

he hadn’t expected for you to remember last night, what with constantly falling asleep. he should’ve prepared for it though.

“i’m sorry.” he repeats. this more graver than the last. this apology carrying more weight and more reason, when he remembers your last question.

“you always leave.” he feels something wet touch his neck. his hearts clench, the image of your tears too clear for him. “always leaving me.”

he tries to lean back to get a good look on you but once you felt him move away, you tightened your grip. now wrapping your own arms around his waist. sirius doesn’t know how to feel. suddenly wrapped in your warmness and the familiar feeling and the guilt that you’re crying over him.

again.

causing you pain, again.

“i know, i’m sorry.” he hates that it’s all he can say. hates he can’t say anything else.

so you ask, “why?”

why?

he knows what you’re asking isn’t about why he’s sorry for leaving. he knows you’re asking something else. one withheld from you from the very beginning.

why do keep calling me nicknames?

why do keep touching me?

why do i feel this way?

why can’t you stay?

why did you leave?

why didn’t you love me back?

there’s a lot of answers he’s withheld from you but he starts from the one heavy on his mind.

he suddenly wonders if you’ve been left wondering too.

if it keeps you up at night, and having no one to answer it. if it eats you up and if you regret being with him, the same way he regrets ever leaving you.

“i didn’t think that— you would want me to stay, after what i did. i didn’t dare myself to even think you could still want me— or even be around my presence at all.” he says this quiet and so close to your ear.

you let him go now, leaning against the bed post instead.

sirius instantly wishing for you to come back into his arms again, but he refrains.

“you thought i didn’t want you?”

“who would?” he laughs, albeit a bit self-deprecating but hoping you’ll take it as a joke. you only frown. “sirius, of course i would still want you. you’re the best thing that happened to me.” your eyes looked so clear then, so sure.

so sure it burns him.

“but i hurt you. i caused you pain, i’ve disappointed you again and again—“

“you didn’t disappoint me.” you grab his hands, your touch still so soft like he remembers it. “i was hurt, yes, but that wasn’t your fault. it was my own fault for giving you more than what you were comfortable with.”

he shook his head, frowning hard. “don’t do that.”

“what?”

“be understanding,” he laughs, incredulous. “taking responsibility for me being a shitty boyfriend to you for being a complete arse to you.”

“you did what you could. what with everything you went through?”

he turns away, but you grab his face with your other hand, and tilts his chin up.

“all the things you’ve had to endure? i know you try to hide your struggles with it all. but i see you. i see all the things, all the extra steps you have to take to become better than what your parents set you out for. and now look at you, making it out on your own. making new friends, no trace of the anger and bitterness they tried so hard to embed in you. i loved you for it all, and i understood why you couldn’t, even if it hurt. because that’s how people love. you love someone even if they have all the capabilities to hurt you more than anything in the world— and i have loved you for so long. and i might’ve not understood this when we were younger, but i do now. i wasn’t asking for apologies because i’ve long forgiven you for everything in the past. but i wanted to know what it is you felt. why you felt the need to hide the reasons from me.”

he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

you let his face go. but he grabs it. incasing your hand in his.

mind sticking to one thing he feared.

loved?

has he lost his chance again?

have you deemed him unnecessary?

“you don’t—?” he sighs, stopping himself, that wasn’t important right now. especially not if you were looking at him, looking so patient.

he started slow, contemplative if he can articulate it well enough for you to understand. “i didn’t think i could ever be capable of love, or be anyone you could ever want and need. because you’re amazing. when you said you loved me for the first time, i thought i was dooming you. my family. my circumstances. i thought i was going to ruin you and i couldn’t live with the thought of doing that to you. so i thought that leaving would be for the best. i tried to leave. tried and convinced myself it was for you. that i had to let you go for you. but i couldn’t do it. selfish as it is, i couldn’t let you go.

“i even found a way to stop the bind, but thinking that my last connection with you would be gone, and you would forget about me—have a life without me there, i couldn’t. because, because i love you. i have loved you from the moment you smiled at me. it terrified me, how much i love you and how much i was willing to do anything for you. i love you more than i could ever understand and i’m sorry if i couldn’t say it that time, i’m sorry if this is a bit late, but i love being needed by you. i love being around you. i-i need you, more than you could ever need me.”

he didn’t notice the tears spilling to his cheeks before you wiped it away for him.

your eyes looking so soft.

“you love me?” you breathed.

as if it was unbelievable.

as if it wasn’t possible.

sirius hates himself a little more at the thought he might have caused some insecurity for you.

because it was ridiculous.

“i love you.” and like a broken record, he repeats it. again and again and again. much firmer than the last.

and you smile, so big and beautiful. and your eyes shining and so pretty. it was like the sun was shining so much brighter that day. like the clouds were opening up in the sky and bathing you in a golden glow.

he repeats it again, because he’s spent so many years holding himself back. and if your reaction is the same every time he says it then he’ll say it everyday. with every sentence, with every greeting, with every meal you cook for him. with every night he picks you up from a pub absolutely sloshed. with every irritating conversation he has with his baby brother. with every teasing quips from the lads. with every secret smile you give him. every time he touches you, every time he looks at you. because gods, don’t you look absolutely magnificent and unbelievable right now.

“i love you,” he repeats.

“i love you too.” you laugh. like your smile was getting too wide and too happy that you had to laugh.

and his heart soars. couldn’t stop himself even if he tried, as he leans in and captures your lips like he’s done so many times before.

thinking himself a proper idiot if he ever thought he could ever live without touching your lips ever again.

he touches your face like he did the night before. he grabs your waist like he always does. and he tilts your heads like a time before. he tastes a salty thing as your tears slides near his lips and he relishes in its taste.

he feels the warmth spreading to his entire face and body. feels the humming of his magic intertwining with yours. your soft mouth moving against him. and the stretch of your lips, smiling into the kiss.

he pulls away even if he didn’t want to.

“i love you,” he says again, and you smile at him so sweetly.

he repeats it because of your pretty smile.

and again. because he can.

i need ppl to yap to😔 pls anyone hmu to be friends

Clingy

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (BAU!reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WC: 3.7k

Summary: You tended to be very expressive with your friends when showing your affection. Whether it showed in pet names or physical touch. Only thing is, Spencer thinks he’s falling in love with you, and all of your sweet affectionate actions are starting to take a toll on his unrequited heart. At least, he thinks it’s unrequited. 

Tags: there’s a tiny bit of miscommunication but not too much that it will make your head explode like it does mine. Make out but nothing grown/spicy. Friends to lovers. A bit of hurt/comfort

A/N: Not beta read don’t kill me! yoooo spence is so in denial about her feelings in this but lol so real king. This is mostly from his POV but I had to cheat a few times. Hope i can live up to the hype that complimentary colors was. I low key don't like this one as much but had to execute it cause the idea was cute.

You were starting to drive him insane. Criminally insane. You could invade his thoughts at any waking moment of his day and take over his mind. Every affectionate pet name, every soft fleeting touch, hell every time you look at him, he would replay the moment in his mind like a broken record. If he was in a crowded room, his eyes would always fall on you. 

After being with the BAU for a while you became good friends with your coworkers. And with that, came your habit of calling your friends sweet nicknames. Anything from sweetie, to honey, to babes, and the one that broke his heart the most, my love. 

At first he didn’t understand why you were using terms of endearment that were typically used in a romantic relationship, but in a platonic way. At some point he caught on that you were similar to Garcia when it came to expressing your love for friends. Similar to her and the way she has her own sweet silly way of expressing how she cares.

Nevertheless, some small part of his heart still broke when you called him those names. He adored your sweet caring nature and the fact that you cared enough about him to call him terms of endearment. But every time a nickname fell from your lips, he was reminded you only meant it platonically. 

It was his own personal torture to constantly be reminded he would never be your sweetie, your honey … your love. But the nicknames weren’t enough to drive him insane. While it drove him to the brink of insanity, he was able to keep his head somewhat still on his shoulders. 

Not long after the heart warming but crushing nicknames, you showed your true love language. Physical touch. It showed in many forms. It could show when poking JJ in the shoulder and giving Emily a high five. Or nudging Morgan in his side with your elbow. You even managed to get a fist pump from Hotch and Rossi. And of course the welcome and goodbye hugs from Penelope. 

You were a bit hesitant at first to express this love language of yours with Spencer due to his aversion to touch and germs. However, you observed that he would gratefully receive occasional touches. Whether it be a hug, high-five, or even the rare ruffle of his hair -which of course would be from Morgan. So you approached him and asked if he was comfortable with physical contact. 

When it came to you, he was more than comfortable. You could take him in your arms and he would simply melt into a puddle on the floor. Except he didn’t say that and his reply was closer to a mix of stuttering and rambling about how you could never make him uncomfortable and how he just doesn’t like germs. 

Now he’s not saying he regrets his choices. He wouldn’t ever take it back. He enjoys every single lingering touch between the two of you. Actually “enjoys” would be a severe understatement. Every single time you ruffle his hair, lean your head on his shoulder, or even just carefully touch his arm, it was as if a thousand volts of electricity were flowing through him. Like he could light up the city even. You were the best part of his days and the reason breath filled his lungs. You brought a light into his life that made him feel safe and warm. 

He desperately wanted your affection, your attention, your touch, to mean something more than he knew it to be. But sooner or later, touch after touch, he started to go insane. Somewhere along the way he had daydreamed so deep he had lost his mind. 

You had officially driven Spencer Reid insane. 

He was promptly whisked away from his thoughts when he felt the tap of a folder on his shoulder and a light thump on his desk. 

“Hotch wants to know your thoughts on the consultation from Colorado,” you started. 

He blinked back into focus glancing at the papers on his desk. 

“Hey, you alright?” You asked with concern. “You look like your head is in the clouds.”

“I’m fine, just lost in thought,” he answered with a small smile reassuring you.

“Don’t get too lost. Can’t have your genius brain short circuiting on us.” You chuckled as you took a small step closer to him and playfully ruffled his hair. 

“I’ll try not to,” he grinned and pushed his hair back after you messed with it. 

“Well I’ll be back soon, my love. Gotta go bother Penelope,” you joked before making your way out of the bullpen. 

His gaze was lingering on you as you left. His thoughts started to drift to you again as his cheeks turned pink.

“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Morgan mimicked in a higher pitched voice with a grin as he approached Spencer's desk. In response Spencer turned his chair away from Morgan to hide his now red face. 

“When are you two going to start dating? You guys already act like a couple.” 

“We do not act like a couple,” Spencer argued. “She just sometimes calls me pet names, that's normal for her.” 

“You don’t see it do you?” Morgan furrowed his eyebrows and was seconds away from chuckling. “She’s been giving you quite a bit of attention lately. Practically clinging onto you.” 

“I mean I- I don’t think so. She does that with everyone, it's not just me. She just happens to be very affectionate with friends.” He answers as his voice almost cracked. 

Morgan shook his head, “Oh no it’s more than that. Have you ever noticed that she calls you “my love” but she calls us “love”? Or when we’re on a long flight back home and you two are all cuddly on the jet. How she always seeks out your company and finds an excuse to talk to you or about you.” 

Spencer couldn’t speak. He had so many words on the tip of his tongue but his voice wouldn’t make a sound. He sat frozen and mouth slightly agape as his brain started to go into overdrive. 

Morgan's face softened at Spencer's reaction. “It’s different with you kid. Friends don’t act like that.” 

“You and Garcia do.” Spencer countered, this time definitely with a voice crack. Morgan lightly chucked. He was well aware that his and Penelope’s friendship was a bit different than other male/female friendships. 

“Okay you got me there, but you and Y/N aren’t me and Garcia. We may flirt with each other a lot but that’s our thing. You two have this care for each other like nothing I've ever seen.” 

Spencer was left stunned once again and Morgan could practically see the gears in his head turning.

“You may not notice it now, or hell you may not let yourself notice it now, but it’s true.” 

Those words rang in the back of Spencer's mind for days. Of course on a regular basis you would occupy his mind at any given moment. But now it wasn’t just thoughts about you. His mind was over analyzing almost every interaction between you and him, trying to find what Morgan had talked about. Some form of evidence that proved what you felt for him was beyond what he had initially thought. 

He was recounting all the recent times you had approached him out of the members of your team. He recalled all the times you were either hanging out or on the jet and you found yourself tracing patterns on his arm. He was rethinking when you started to use nicknames around him and how it could be different with him than with others. It turned out Morgan might be right, as Spencer realized the numerous times you referred to Garcia or Emily as “love”, but in the rare instance you said “my love” it was only ever directed to him. 

The idea of you liking him back had become an all consuming thought, but he was too terrified to ask you. What if Morgan was wrong? Profilers have been wrong before. He became petrified by the idea of asking you about it and possibly finding out his feelings were unrequited. But most of all, he was scared of losing you. Scared that if he brought it up he would make things awkward and ruin your friendship. He couldn’t lose you, not over something as trivial as his feelings. 

Unfortunately the mental toll this was taking on his mind started to show. Not so obvious that the everyday person would notice, but you weren’t an everyday person. You grew to know him like the back of your hand. So of course you started to notice the little changes in his behavior. His ever so slight flinch when you would initially touch him. His eyes which used to linger on you and catch your eyes from across the room, now focused almost anywhere you weren’t. The way his body froze when you placed a hand on his shoulder. The way his eyes partially widened when you called him anything other than his name. 

He tried to hide his worries from you, but you could tell something was bothering him. 

Something about you.

His overall behavior didn’t reflect that he was avoiding you or distancing himself from you. He still talked to you and acted around you like normal. Instead it felt like he was holding himself back from receiving or truly appreciating your affection the way he used to. 

~

Days had passed and the team was sent on a case. While this case was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone, it had affected you the most. The victims had reminded you of yourself and the unsub and all of his delusional reasoning for his actions had hit very close to home. 

The team caught the unsub and closed the case quite late in the evening. Everyone was exhausted after the grueling past few days and decided to spend the night at the hotel to rest and leave in the morning. You however, still felt an ache in your stomach from all the anxiety felt throughout the day. You couldn’t seem to relax and let that weight off your shoulders. So you went to the one person who could help.  

Spencer was getting ready to go to sleep, peacefully reading a book in bed when he got a knock on his door. He placed his book down and when he opened the door he was greeted by you in pajama pants and a zip up hoodie, clearly also winding down for the night. 

“Hey,” you greeted. 

“Hi, what’s up? Is everything okay?” he asked, a bit concerned as to why you showed up at his hotel so late at night. He opened the door wider signaling you were welcome inside. You entered the room and stuffed your hands in your pockets as he closed the door. 

“I’m okay I just …” you cleared your throat. “I know this case has been a tough one but today’s been really hard for me. I’m still wired and awake, I can’t seem to relax enough to go to sleep,” You abruptly stopped your rambling to catch your breath. 

“This might sound dumb but, I’m in desperate need of a hug right now,” you finally admitted quietly.

He hated seeing you so timid and closed off. How you made yourself smaller than you were, all because you were asking for your basic needs to be met. 

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” 

“Huh?” 

“You don’t have to explain why you need a hug. You can just ask,” he said reassuringly. 

“Oh.” 

“Physical contact has been shown to increase levels of dopamine, serotonin, and even oxytocin; therefore, decreasing levels of stress and anxiety. Some people might even argue that physical touch is a fundamental element of being human and experiencing life.” His other way of trying to validate your feelings was of course rambling a string of facts and information from his fingertips. 

You couldn’t help but smile. God he loved it when you smiled. 

“So is that a yes?” you asked since you never exactly got an answer from your question in the first place. Even though you knew what his answer was. 

The corners of his lips turned into a grin. “Come here,” he says with outstretched arms. 

You practically ran into him at his offer. He wrapped his arms around you as you placed yours around his neck. He wished this moment could last forever. All while at the same time Morgan's previous statements were circling around in his head. 

He tried his best to push them away. He tried to tell himself this was not you acting on any potential feelings for him. This was simply you reaching out to a friend in need. 

He took note of the way you held onto him so tightly, almost as if he could leave at any second. It made his heart ache. 

“You feel tired,” he almost whispered. 

“I am,” you mumbled back, face buried in his neck. 

“Do you wanna lie down?” 

You lightly patted him on the back, “Don’t worry I’ll leave you be and go to sleep soon. I just need a minute 

“I meant … I meant do you want to lie down here?” He stammered. “So you’re not alone. You seem like you need a friend right now.” 

His own heart almost cracks when he says friend. But that’s what you need right now, a friend. 

“I’d like that,” you said with a small smile. 

You separate from him and he leads you to the bed holding your hand. He sits down against the headboard and waits for you to join him. 

You awkwardly sit down on the bed, eyes darting in all directions of where he’s sitting. “I- what should I …” 

“You could sit down the way you do on the jet,” he kindly offers. 

You relax at his words and move to sit at his side. He wraps his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. You both sat there in a moment of silence, enjoying eachothers company. He was getting lost in the sweet smell of your perfume; the small bit of it that still lingers from the long day you’ve had. 

He started to recall all the times you two would be close like this. It didn’t happen very often. Sometimes on a long jet ride home from a long or stressful case. Or sometimes when the team went out for drinks and you would be tired from dancing. In the rare occasions you two were like this, you would tend to draw patterns on his arm or leg. 

So he decided to finally return the favor. With the arm he had wrapped around you, he started to dance his fingertips over your upper arm. 

He felt you practically melt into him at the action. If you could get any closer to him, you did. 

He continued tracing your arm with an overwhelming amount of care. It made you consider his previous actions compared to how welcome you were now in his arms. 

“Spencer, I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me,” you spoke with a hidden hesitation in your voice. 

“Of course I’ll be honest to you. I always will be,” he furrowed his brows at the thought of you being scared of him lying to you. 

You let out a small, almost shaky breath. “Am I clingy?” you murmured. 

This made his hand on your arm stop. He shifted his sitting position so he could face you better but also didn’t want to let you out of his hold. 

“No, never,” he told you with assurance. “Why would you think you’re clingy?” 

He saw you hesitate once more before you gave him your reply. “I was just overthinking things. Worried I was taking the physical contact thing too far or that I’m a bit too affectionate at times.“

“Why would you be worried? You’d never take things too far. You’ve always been respectful of other people’s boundaries.” 

You sighed with a shaky breath. He could practically see through you and see you considering your response. 

“Because I thought I was making you uncomfortable.” you looked down to avoid his gaze. 

He was quiet for a second, absolutely baffled as to how you would think you could ever make him uncomfortable. “Why?” His question was a barely audible whisper.  

“You seemed different. All of a sudden you would freeze when I touched you. You became jumpy and skittish when I talked to you. I thought I was too much for you but you didn’t want to tell me about it.” 

You shifted away to face him and his hand fell from your arm. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your hoodie as your face went blank. 

“You could never be too much for me,” he spoke with a soft voice. He tried to reach his hand out to hold yours but your hand disappeared in your sleeve at his touch. 

“Then why were you different all of a sudden?” You narrowed your eyes at him. 

His cheeks started to turn pink, “I- I wasn’t.” 

“Yes you were.” 

“Y/N please,” he begged. 

“Spencer,” you whispered as your eyes bore into his. “You said you’d be honest with me.” 

He licked his lips and his face turned red. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t find an escape route. He had no choice but to tell you. And once the flood gate opened, he would never be able to close it. 

“I was freaking out,” he blurted. 

“I was freaking out because Morgan implanted this idea in my head that you might possibly have feelings for me based on the way you act around me. I’ve been obsessed with that thought since he mentioned it. So I freaked out almost every time you touched me, talked to me, even looked at me,” he rambled on anxiously as he tried to explain himself. No holding back now. 

“I tried not to let it change my behavior but I guess it did and I am so sorry for that. I never wanted to give you the impression that I was uncomfortable. To be honest I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable” 

You were silent for a moment. He couldn’t read your reaction. Your eyebrows slightly raised with your lips parted. He could only see surprise, which was typical, he just didn’t know if this kind of surprise was good. 

“Why were you so obsessed with the idea of me having feelings for you?” 

He could’ve sworn his heart was going to beat out of his chest at any moment. 

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

 Here we go. Flood gates. 

“The idea you might like me back became an all consuming thought because I never before thought it was possible and I never wanted to get my hopes up. Actually, I pretty much think about you all the time so it wasn’t that far from normal. ” 

“You’re falling in love with me?” you asked barely above a whisper. 

“Yes,” he spoke softly with full confidence. 

The only change to your appearance was your eyes widened a bit more. It made Spencer's heart sink to his stomach. 

“Listen, I understand if this makes things weird between us and I am so sorry. I just couldn’t ..”

He couldn't finish his thought, you were too busy locking your lips with his. It was a sweet but cautious kiss, almost as if you were testing the waters in uncharted territory. You felt him freeze against you so you leaned away, breaking from the kiss. 

Not even seconds later Spencer placed a hand on your face and was diving back into the kiss with fervor. You instantly reacted as your arms found their way around his neck and your hand was digging in his hair. The kiss was intoxicating. Both of you trying to get a taste of the other after what felt like eons of pinning. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist while his one hand snuck up to the small of your back where your hoodie had exposed your skin. It sent a shiver up your spine while you let out a shaky breath against his lips. You tried shifting in your seat to somehow get closer to him. With his hands against your waist he helped guide you to sit in his lap straddling him. 

When you finally break from the kiss your faces are red and Spencer rests his forehead against yours. You focus on the sound of his breath and the feeling of your heart practically beating in your ears. 

Your hand moves to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “I guess I didn’t do a very good job at showing I had feelings for you.” 

The corners of his mouth lift up into a giddy smile. “No, you did. I’m just oblivious.”

“Sounded like you were in denial,” you lightly teased. 

“That too,” he chuckles. 

After a moment of enjoying each other's presence, you pull away from him just far enough to look him in the eyes. 

“I know I call everyone pet names, but every time I used them with you, I wanted it to mean something more. Part of me would always hope you would one day call me those names back,” 

Spencer swore his heart could give out at any second. He never expected to hear this from you and it made him lightheaded.

“This may sound childish but.. I never craved attention so badly, until you gave me yours,” you added. 

He licked his lips and smiled. With his hands still on your waist he traced mindless patterns at your sides. “You have my complete and undivided attention, my love.”

His words made you giddy. You bit your lip to keep yourself from giggling. Although, he would never be opposed to hearing your beautiful laugh. 

There were no words to describe the way that you felt. So without thinking, you leaned forward once more to capture his lips with yours. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag Requests: @nomajdetective

I can‘t argue with a blue eyed boy, whatever u say beautiful

Let's fuck up the friendship : J.T x fem!reader

how cute is that picture? UwU

request by @parkjammys (once again, thank you for making my day by posting pics of Outlaws!Jason today)

based on the prompt: "sometimes i look at people and think.. really? that’s the sperm that won?” With best friend Jason feeling really jealous seeing his best friend that he has a major crush on, talk to some guy (guy is Kyle Rayner) and he's mumbling "he's not even her type"

***

„Why is he here again?” Jason scoffed, carefully observing his best friend Y/N, talking to that stupid prick of a green lantern, Kyle Rayner.

“Dunno.” Dick, still in his Nightwing suit shrugged casually, while stuffing his mouth with cereals ‘probably something to do with the newest mission on Earth or something like that.”

“It doesn’t bother you at all?” Jason hissed, involuntarily clenching his fist. “that he just drops by whenever he wants?”

“No, not really.” Dick swallowed particularly huge piece of his meal and focused on his brother’s face. “does it bother you?”

It wasn’t a secret that Jason and Kyle weren’t exactly friends, but the former never reacted with such…. intensity. All right, most of the times the green lantern showed himself around Jason was throwing offences left and right, showing his teeth and acting like he was marking territory. Kyle, however did exactly the same thing. It was sort of tradition at this point. But all that teasing, fake fighting and extreme emotions never escalated so quickly to the point where Jason was all red (and not because of the helmet or the gear), grinding his teeth and subconsciously reaching for his gun while his eyes were fixed on one place in space. Or rather, one person.

Y/N.

She was talking to Kyle, laughing at whatever he just said, her eyes sparkling, looking happy like never before. And what was even worse she just hit his chest playfully. SHE TOUCHED HIM for fuck’s sake and that fucker really seemed to enjoy that.  On the other side, Jay did not like it at all. How could he? He had a massive crush on her since he could remember and yet, despite all his cool demeanor, harsh behavior and bad boy outlook, he was too self-conscious to ever confront her about it. Stupid, longing idiot, afraid of his own feelings. To tell the truth, he himself wasn’t sure if he was more afraid of the possibility of her pushing him away or rather the fact that by some miracle she might want him. He was not good in relationships, any of them, and that made his mind create crazy scenarios in which she was hurt or killed or sad or crying because of him.

But sure as hell he was not going to let Rayner get to her first!

She was just …. something different.

The girl who knew what she wanted and wouldn’t settle for anything else. The girl who would stand by you, listening to every rant and problem you may have, but also the one who would turn and run the second she got vulnerable. It was so damn hard, to get her to open up, since on 9 out of 10 cases she would just jump into helping someone else or dig into work.  

And she was his best friend.

What kind of fool falls for his best friend?

It was stupid and childish and naïve and yet, all he wanted and needed was to just approach her that very second, interrupt her happy conversation and use one sentence that would either make her hate him and disappear for good or get them both to a whole new level of relationship.

“Let’s fuck up the friendship.” God, how he wished he had the guts to just get it out of his system.

Instead he settled on watching her from the distance, not rushing to make a fool out of himself in front of both Dickhead and that freaking Rayner.

“Jace?” Dick interrupted his train of thought, smirking under his nose.

“What?!”

“Is this about her?”

“What? NO. Fuck no. She’s just my friend. My best friend.”

“Yeah, right, friends don’t look at friends that way.”

“Whatever!” Jason scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest sulking for a moment and sighing deeply. ‘I hate the way she’s smiling at him.” He mumbled “and she’s not even trying to hide it….” He pouted like a completely immature 5 year old.

“She’s an astrophysicist, Jason.” Dick patted his arm reassuringly “ You can’t blame her for being enthralled by all that crazy space-shit stuff he’s saying.”

“I don’t blame her.” Jason hissed “I blame him, you know? Do you ever just look at people and think: really? That’s the sperm that won?”

“No…..” Dick made a face in confusion. Damn it, if that were the thoughts coming into Jason’s mindthan it really was bad.

“Well, I do. And he’s the living proof of that.”

“Jason…..”

“He’s not even her type…” Todd muttered under his breath.

“And what exactly is her type?” Dick smirked again “Tall, dark haired, well-build douche? If you care about her …..”

“I don’t fucking care about her!” he yelled.

Too loud.

Whoopsy.

Not a chance she didn’t hear that, and the sudden outburst made her turn her head towards him. Shit, if he was red before, now he was simply crimson. Jason found himself between the devil and the deep blue see. Should he clear this little misunderstanding? Should he come clean? Or should he just run away leaving the ground burning?

“Jace?” she stuttered, her eyes growing wide, while Kyle took the chance and wrapped and arm around her shoulders protectively to give her some grounding “Is this about me?”

“Good luck, clearing that out, Jaybrid” Dick laughed, but hid it by pretending to sneeze.

“Shut up, Grayson!” Jason hissed through clenched teeth and slowly approached the girl and Kyle. “It was not about you. It was about some girl Grayson met and about whom he couldn’t shut up. You are my best friend, you know it, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, right, best friend’ she mumbled looking down, moving slightly closer to Rayner and away from Jason. Oh, that was like a slap on the cheek. Like a sting right through his heart. Like a….

Was it disappointment in her eyes?

No, it couldn’t be…. Why would she be disappointed?

“Anyway, if you don’t mind, Rayner” Jason used the unimaginable amount of power to control himself “I would love to rescue my best friend from your hand. I bet whatever you say about space must be out of this world, but there are people who actually need her on Earth. On daily basis. Not just while dropping from time to time and leaving her hanging.”

“Oh, Todd.” Kyle cooed “aren’t you just so cute while trying to act like a knight in shining armor. But guess what, she doesn’t need your protection.”

“Right. The only one who’s going to need protection is you. From me.” Jason leaned forward eyeing the other boy with predatory gaze ‘I know what you are plotting, Rayner. And if you think I’m going to let you use her….”

“Is someone jealous?” Kyle scoffed “cause sure it seems you treat me like a threat.”

“Why don’t we take it outside so I can show you how much I am not scared of you. Maybe this time you will deal with someone equal to you rather than seducing girls with your fake charm!” Jason jumped to his feet, Kyle following right after and the tension was so palpable that most likely they wouldn’t even wait to go outside, just beat the shit of each other right inside.

“ENOUGH!” sudden scream coming from Y/N made them both gasp in surprise. Neither Jason nor Kyle has even seen her this angry. She was practically fuming and it was terrifying to see this normally calm, communicative and focused-on-peaceful-solutions-to-problems girl in such state. And it was them who pushed her to this point. She was not a meta or any other kind of superhero but at that moment she held the power of the hurricane and was about to throw it at them.

Shit.

“Y/N…” Jason raised his hands and tried to calm her down.

“Shut up, Jason!”

“ You heard the girl, shut up, Jason” Kyle laughed viciously

“THE SAME GOES FOR YOU RAYNER!”

“I’m sorry….” He whimpered and it was Jason’s turn to laugh.

“I am TIRED of being your toy. Exhausted to be precise. I’ve been making doe eyes at you, Todd for months now. Doe eyes that you chose to ignore every. single. fucking. time. And yet, the moment I move on from this silly, stupid, fucking, one-sided crush you decide to step it and ruin everything. Just because you wanted to? Just because you what? You get jealous now? Fuck, Jason, do you really think you can just do whatever you want, whenever you want, not caring about the others? Not caring what I have to say? Oh, hell no. You don’t hold such power over me. Not anymore.”

“Y/N….” Jason took a step forward, but she jumped away, almost like he was a disease she didn’t want to catch.

“Get away from me!” she hissed “We were just talking, you idiot! I was being nice, not that you know what it means! I’m done with both of you!”

“Wait, what did I do?” Kyle asked, now a bit confused

“Oh, nothing, sweetie.” Y/N mocked “just telling me the shit of improbable stories to make Jason angry while watching me laugh with you. Yeah, I noticed that.” She cut Jason off the moment he opened his mouth to say a thing in his defense “Well, genius, I was laughing at you, wondering when will you finally realize that I did my research and don’t believe a word you say. Are you familiar with the word sarcasm?”

“Haha! Burn!” Jason couldn’t help but let out a laugh

“And you, Todd, should  learn the meaning of the word honest. You are both losers. I want nothing to do with you. I’m out.”

And so she left. The only sound they heard after that was slamming of the door to her room. She had one at the Manor since her expert knowledge was sometimes needed and she was helping the bats while patrolling at night.

And then chewing on the cereals.

“Well that was quite the show….”

“SHUT UP GRAYSON!”

***

“Y/N? Please, open the door. I just wanna talk.”  Jason was knocking at her door for like 10 minutes now and yet, she didn’t bother answering and he started losing all hope.  Did he fuck up? Was all the chances he had with her gone just because he was a stupid idiot In love and therefore acting like crazy?

“She’s not there, you know.”  Tim emerged from his room, bothered by all the knocking and begging.

“What? then where is she?”

“Hm…. Not sure if I should tell you after everything that just went down…..”

“How do you….? Fuck, whatever. I swear if you don’t tell me where she hid I would burn all the coffee shops in the tristate area!”

“I equipped them all with the fireproof furniture and equipment a while ago. Had a feeling that sooner or later you will threaten me with the lack of coffee….Listen to me carefully, replacement…” Jason took a step forward, towering over Tim’s figure but before he could take any action, another voice joined the conversation.

“Boys. Why do you always have to act like savages? Y/N escaped to the roof. Guess she was in need of some air after that little outburst.”

“Thanks, Steph.”

“Always a pleasure. “ she winked “Oh, and Todd? Make sure to fix it. I really don’t like this Rayner guy, either.”

***

“Was it Steph? I know it was her.” Jason could only do as much as step into the rooftop when Y/N felt his presence. Apparently the time with bats sharpened her senses.

“Y/n. I just want to talk.”

“Ok. Sit. Talk. I’m listening.” She patted the spot next to her and Jason took it without any hesitation. She was willing to listen, maybe not everything was lost.

“I’m sorry” he sighed deeply and that made her turn her head and look straight into his eyes just to confirm if he actually did say the words she heard coming from him

“Wow! That would be the first time I ever heard you say a thing like that!” she laughed

“I mean it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was playing around with you or anything like this. It’s just…. just…..”

“What, Jace? Come on, just say it. Just be honest with me. I won’t laugh or judge you, I promise.”

“I had a crush on you.”

“Had?”

“All right, I still do!” he threw his hands in the air “Are you trying to humiliate me now?”

“For how long?” she asked looking at the space in front of her, not meeting his eyes and missing the fact that he was eyeing her with love sick puppy eyes, begging whatever deity was there that she would let him love her. Despite everything. He would put all the work in proving to her that he could be better. For her. For them. And if that required honesty – so be it.

“A year.” He muttered, almost inaudibly.

“A year?!” she cried “seriously, Jason! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“How was I supposed to tell you?! I didn’t know if you were feeling the same way! I couldn’t risk scaring you off. I couldn’t risk…. Losing you. ”

“You didn’t notice all those times when I was making a fool out of myself just to get your attention? I mean really, doe eyes?”

“I’m…. I’m not good with all that flirting and teasing and relationship stuff. I … I don’t recognize it well. Besides, you are my best friend and ….”

“And what?” she moved her whole body, so now she was not only facing him, but her whole figure was turned towards him “Just say it. Please.” She begged, looking straight into his eyes, not faltering for even a second. “Say it, cause I don’t think I can.”

“I wanna fuck up the friendship.” He gasped, not really believing the words coming out of his mouth. But once he started he just couldn’t stop the flow “I want to love you. I want to have you to myself. I want to be yours. I want to be able to hold you, touch you, kiss you. I don’t want to be just friends anymore. I want to make you mine. If you let a fool like me…..“

“And it’s not just because of Kyle?”

“Fuck no! I don’t give a single damn about him! I care about you, Y/N. In a more-than-friends way. I’m done pretending. ” he whispered looking down, his cheeks a bit reddened. Not a long though since she cupped his cheek and made him look at her.  “Please, be mine”he whimpered

“Jason, can you promise me you won’t act like a male ego embodied again?”

“I can’t.” he shook his head in resignation “I can’t cause I care too much and can’t help getting possessive sometimes and…..” She didn’t let him finish leaning forward and pressing her lips to his. This took him a bit by surprise, since he thought she was going to ditch him for not being able to promise her what she needed. And instead, she was kissing him?

Damn it, not just kissing, that was clearly an understatement. She was laying all her love on him. Those sweet, soft lips he was dreaming about for so long were on his, brushing over his gently and yet with so much passion he was practically melting. He wanted more and yet, all that tenderness and intimacy of sharing first kiss in the privacy of nighted rooftop was something to enjoy rather than to destroy by any urgency.

And so, even if still confused, he followed her lead, choosing delicacy and softness. Maybe it was what they both needed and enough to get him high and drunk on the feeling of her. He could feel her with every cell in his body. Her touches, her smell, her affection for him. All of it combined.

He barely held back a whine when she pulled back.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” he whispered, his hands aching to touch her and hold her to his chest, but holding back because he needed her direct answer. “For acting like a dumbass?”

“You had me at I wanna fuck up the friendship” she laughed lightly, changing position and settling between his legs, not fighting or running away.  

“You have no idea how long I wanted to say it.” He answered, wrapping arms around her waist, pulling her closer and kissing her neck softly, inhaling the fresh scent of her shampoo “So long, baby… so fucking long…..”

“Glad you choose the moment when I was forgiving and merciful” she chuckled “’because you know, it could have backfired on you.”

“But you’re not leaving?” his grip on her tightened in a sudden fright this was all just a crazy dream and in a minute he would wake up in his own bed, alone and cold, still yearning for her, none of those words from before said in real life.

“No.” she put her soft hands on his biceps, caressing his skin and all those scars reassuringly “I made up my mind, Jason. It’s you. It’s always been you. I’m done pretending too.“ she turned her head and hid face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling her nose over his skin. “I love you.”

In the darkness of the roof, with almost no stars on the sky and with her eyes closed,  she didn’t notice few tears that gathered in Jason’s eyes and flowing down his cheeks.

He had her.

He finally had her.

And he was not going to let go.

𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 . . anakin skywalker

🎬//

teaser:

BUT I JUST MISS YOU,

AND I JUST WISH YOU

WEREEE A BETTER MAN...

ᶜ ʰ ᵃ ʳ ᵃ ᶜ ᵗ ᵉ ʳ ˢ : modern! anakin x fem! reader

warnings! :

swearing ,, angst

SUMMARY: the last person you expect at your door is your unofficial ex boyfriend of 3 months, in need of a favor... in need of a date.

based off this request (hope you like it ❤️)

〰️

the microwaved mac and cheese, laying pulled apart on your plate, was left completely uneaten. you weren't necessarily hungry, and you knew it even while making it, too. but maybe you did so just to grasp onto the semblance of a routine you still had. the incandescent, dim glow of your overhead light normally cast your small, cramped dining room into somewhat of a cozy aroma, but now, it brought shadows of hollowness along with it, much like your empty stomach.

watching the metal of your fork dig lazily into the small noodles, you leaned back in your chair, free hand on your thigh, and heaved an elongated and heavy exhale. your pinned up hair might've been collecting dust considering how long you had been sitting there, staring. night was slowly luring your town into its cave and pinching the wick of its candle until the flame kneeled and gave up.

biting your lip, you finally stood, pushing the chair from your legs, grabbing your mac and cheese and fork and walking the short distance to your kitchen. you emptied the contents of your plate into the pullout trashcan and turned on the sink, giving the water a moment to heat up before running the glass and metal beneath. when your house murmured with the shrill tune of the doorbell, you nearly rolled your eyes in disgruntlement, then straightened in confusion. who on earth was at your door on a random tuesday at 7 pm? setting the plate and fork onto the bottom of the sink, you shut off the water and shook your hands semi-dry, walking the hallway to your front door.

you patted your palms onto your jeans before you unlocked the entrance, turned the knob, and pulled the wood open. remembrance in a coat stood on the other side. almost immediately, your heart seized in your chest, the weight of memory hitting you in the all the wrong places. him. him. sweat collected in your palms, and a feeling of slight horror followed behind the shock. what was he doing here? what was your unofficial ex boyfriend doing here? when was the last time you even saw him? how many months ago was it that you had given up and packed your bags, leaving his empty house without so much as a goodbye. thinking so foolishly that maybe, if you fled, he'd chase after you. he'd care again. but no. you hadn't talked since. you didn't need to. prior to your undeclared breakup, there had been so much incessant fighting, that he must've known it was over the second he came back to his completely vacant house. no closure was needed, either. he didn't go after you, even if you wanted him to. that was that.

and yet, there he was. standing in front of you. staring. it was quiet a moment. he looked more shocked that he was there than you were. in fact, you didn't look shocked at all. your face was void of any emotion. the only giveaway that you were surprised was the slight raise of your eyebrows. and he... he was just as you recalled him to be. dark, blue eyes, framed by long lashes and low-set brows. soft curls that fell in waves over his forehead. the face you recalled late in the night. in your dreams. when you'd wondered why you had left in the first place, when you considered so thoroughly, just going back. going back to him. even if it meant the first thing you'd be doing in his vicinity would be screaming.

rain pattered on the roof. he did look a bit damp. "y/n," were the first words spoken in 3 months. it wasn't a question. and it certainly wasn't said in that desperate, breathy tone the men in movies laced into their words, proof that they'd spent hours dreaming of the holding of a hand or a kiss on the cheek. it was a statement.

"anakin," was your first response back. his name on your tongue seemed to snap the sense back into him. he shifted on his feet for the first time since you'd opened the door, and finally, anakin seemed to register just what was happening. you pursed your lips, gripping the knob until your knuckles turned white. "why— why are you here, anakin." not a question, either.

"i need—" his chest stuttered, "—a favor."

---

"no." your eighth word to anakin. no. what a powerful word. a simple, one syllable, two letter word that had the power to completely rip apart a whole spiel of pleas, a paragraph or two of asking. by saying just that one word, you killed a whole night's worth of planning and courage-building. but you weren't thinking much about that fact, then. no.

anakin stared incredulously at you. because he was definitely feeling the weight and wrath of that one word. he felt it like a nuisance. it was the silence that followed and the look of vacancy on your face. finally, he inhaled through his mouth, looked away. an annoyed expression enveloped his face, which was honestly laughable. "look—"

"no." 9th word. next, just to rub salt in the wound you'd formed with that one word, you bit out a humorless, horrible laugh, shaking your head and looking away. you didn't even know why you'd let your unofficial ex boyfriend into your house, sat him down at the table, and let him explain this "favor" of his. "you should leave, anakin. please."

his face hardened, shifting with your movements as you stood, expecting him to follow after. he did indeed, but stopped in front of you instead. "if this is about what happened—"

"i don't want to talk about what happened. ever. i thought you got the memo." rubbing a hand over your brows, you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head again.

"okay, fine. i won't bring it up. not once. after it's over, in fact, i'll leave you alone and never talk to you again, because that's what you want, right?"

it was mockery. anakin was mocking you. you stopped shifting, looking up at him with your mouth slightly agape and your eyes boring into his as if he was just joking. "y'know, you have some real nerve, coming to my house and expecting me to accommodate to your needs—which are some really stupid fucking needs—even after what happened. some real nerve. get out, anaki—!"

"i know! i know i do!" his hands flew out at either side of him, hovering, and thick brows knitted together, casting his face into madness. he was mad. he had the audacity to be mad. you were reminded again of why you left in the first place. you couldn't go 30 minutes without bickering. "do you think i'd be here if this situation wasn't drastic?! my mother will stab me in the eye if i show up to this dinner without you. literally stab me—!"

"your problems stopped being mine 3 fucking months ago. get out, anakin, or do i have to start screaming bloody murder until my neighbors call the cops?"

he shifted on his feet in that way that angry mothers did in movies, as if unbelieving of what was happening. even though he had brought it upon himself. "i know you hate me, y/n, for... for— what happened. and i know you blame me too. i understand it, but i have reason to hate you just as much. you might despise me, and i might despise you, but you need to understand just how important this is to beru. to my family. so can we please just— just..." the anger in his eyes shifted. so did something in your chest.

"i do. and i'm telling you no." you turned on your heel, walking down the hallway, opening the front door, and motioning him outside. he still stood at that spot in your kitchen. you inhaled deeply, your chest rising. "i don't care about you or your shit anymore, okay? i stopped fucking caring because you didn't fucking care. get out." he did not budge. groaning, you abandoned the door and walked back down, leaving it open. "you're still as egotistical as you were 3 months ago."

"and you're still as stubborn as you were 3 months ago."

"you're the one who refuses to get out of a woman's house."

"fine, you hold grudges just the same as you did 3 months ago."

"text me the fucking information and get out!" you snapped, and he didn't so much as flinch. because anakin knew what he was doing, wearing you down until you gave way.

relief washed over his face. you wanted to rip it clean off. what you didn't want was to give him the satisfaction. maybe it was petty. not maybe. it really was. standing here, in the same room as him, was like torture all over again. it brought back memories of days you thought you'd buried. but at the same time, what happened happened, and you couldn't make it go away by making him the villain. he was right. you hated to admit it, but it wasn't solely his fault after all. maybe it was meant to happen. and plus, how many times had he saved your ass when you asked for it? you owed it to him. you owed it all. so why was it so hard to say yes? cause you liked knowing he was desperate and you liked the way it felt, to turn down a desperate man just because of a past that was not solely his fault?

"maybe not as stubb—" you raised a hand as if to hit him and it was what sent him into a quick thank you and departure.

---

and so, because you blurted a hasty and angered approval with little to no actual thought behind your words, you sat at your small vanity and pinned your hair into an updo a week later, on an airy, wednesday afternoon. much too pretty an afternoon to be worrying over things like celebratory dinners. you didn’t even want to think of what would happen in the following hours, surrounded by a family you still knew every fault and strength of. next to a man you, of course, still loved. you also didn’t want to think about what you’d have to do to keep up this… act of dating with him in front of his sister and parents. there were too many things you didn’t want to think about.

the skin of your neck still whined about the burn you had acquired trying to curl your hair, which you were embarrassingly horrible at despite being good at styling hair otherwise. already you were annoyed and none of the actually annoying parts of the night had commenced yet. you'd given yourself an hour to get ready and with the curling iron incident and the trouble to pick out an outfit, you were just barely on time when you rushed out the door and drove off.

"thanks for showing up," were anakin's first words, leaned against the wall a few feet off from the entrance of the restaurant. but it wasn't a thank you. it was sarcasm. he stifled the butt of the cigarette between his fingers on the brick beside him and flicked it to the ground.

"you're welcome, and also very lucky," came your reply, gripping your black leather handbag in front of you and nervously looking around. even in your navy blue, satin gown, you felt poorly dressed. it was the best part of town and the restaurant not 3 feet from where you stood had only received good word and input.

"oh, yes. you've absolutely graced me with your presence." anakin pulled a hand from the bag and lifted it to his mouth, but you lightly—unfortunately—swatted at his face before he could kiss it.

"i'm actually hoping to un-grace you as soon as possible. let's get on with it, please and thank you." your eyes flew to the opening door, and the extravagantly-dressed couple that walked out laughing together, hand in hand, the sound of soft jazz and chattering words stumbling out after them. rich patchouli rode the air, and you breathed a handful of it in.

when you looked back, a bit confused as to why anakin hadn't answered with his own, snarky remark, you almost immediately got your answer. he was staring at the mark on your neck. fuck. you forgot to cover up the burn. his eyes were driven over with starkness, looking almost black instead of their usual blue. "curling iron." your free hand insecurely prodded at the burn, eliciting a sharp wince from your throat. "and stop staring at me, you creep. get on with it." your fingers fell and instead motioned to the door, telling him to lead the way in silence. anakin snapped out of whatever spiral he fell into and cleared his throat.

he turned fast enough to miss the prickle of redness that coated your cheeks.

---

the dinner went as expected.

beru's stomach bulged from under her overcoat, and she touched it almost every second. her eyes wore the tired and worn stare of a soon-to-be mother, and yet, she seemed ecstatic. you could tell she had not acquired much rest, and the same went for her boyfriend, owen. you'd met him maybe once or twice, and he seemed worthy enough of your almost-sister, though, in truth, you felt no one was worthy enough.

shmi was as she was three months ago. her hands still held their gentleness and her smile was just as soft and delicate. cliegg was no different, either. no one was different, in fact. so similar you felt you'd completely dreamt your breakup with anakin, that this was just another day, in love with him.

it appeared not.

"so, how are you two?" forks clanked against plates. bubbles of champagne popped and crackled in their cardigan of glass. your steak scraped your throat as you swallowed and met your unwelcoming stomach, your appetite gone. depleting further when the question was asked. "it's been so long since we last had a dinner like this." shmi's supple fingers rested atop cliegg's arm, her expression lightening as she looked to her husband and back to you. the two of you.

"it's been a long time in general," beru chimed. anakin leaned back from his plate, clearing his throat.

"yes. it has," he agreed. you straightened, pushing back your shoulders and nodding once.

"we've—" you looked to him for a second, the tender glance of a lover, as if you couldn't keep your eyes off of him for one moment. when he faked a smile, you did too. "we've been good. all the same, in the least."

shmi nodded her head, and beside her, cliegg leaned over the table, both arms on either side of his plate. "you talked about that orchestra last time we met, did you not?" the woman asked, cocking her head. "how's that going for you?"

"oh, it's all good." you never tried out.

"you'll get in," beru reassured.

"i'm sure she will." anakin reclined forward, meeting your eyes and smiling softly. you resisted the urge to scowl, resisted the urge to run away screaming, and in your haste, responded stupidly.

"don't jinx it." to your fortune, shmi laughed, and then beru, and then, everyone else.

"and anakin doesn't bother you too much, yes?" cliegg chimed in, eyes on yours. you shrugged, conjuring up an actually-thought-through answer.

"i'm still here, right?" more laughter. you chuckled yourself, delicately taking your champagne glass from the table and closing your still-smiling lips around the rim. you smiled as the bubbles clambered and fought for space in your mouth, and you smiled as they did the same all the way down your throat, the tangy citrus tasting more of poison on your tongue.

when you leaned back in your chair, you slyly spoke to the man beside you, "ice cream."

he looked to you then, confused, and you rolled your eyes, exhaling sharply. "my favor. you owe me ice cream. i don't know when, but you owe me ice cream."

anakin grinned then, and it made your empty stomach twist. "i thought you'd ask for a second life or my soul. maybe a genie lamp, knowing you. something undoable."

"lets not forget that i have the power to tell your whole family that your pathetic ass turned up at my door after we broke up 3 months ago, asking me to fake date you. i would watch your tone if i were you. something undoable." he shut his mouth, and your pride was short-lived upon realizing beru was staring strangely at you. quickly, you turned and captured his lips with your own. just a peck. you made sure to smile when you pulled away, and pinched him when the only thing on his face was surprise.

"nice going dumbass. you're blowing our cover," you said through a tender smile.

"since when have you cared about covers," he countered through his own.

"since ice cream was on the line."

---

soon, it became all unbearable.

anakin's presence beside you was the log in your throat and the death that loitered too often. everywhere. it was worse that you had to kiss him and hug him and love him like nothing but happiness was what your relationship was built off of. his lips were the nausea in your stomach and the worry in your brow, each bite of your steak like consuming toxin and tightening the noose around your throat further. you'd lost your appetite just by breathing his air.

"s'cuse me." you turned to him, lightly touching his arm and pulling him from his conversing, though you left before you could see the curiosity that combed through his blue eyes.

your time in the bathroom was spent fanning yourself off—it was, for whatever reason, sweltering hot in the restaurant—and staring at your reflection in the mirror. not to any surprise, even the bathroom was extremely expensive-looking, yet no one but a few, equally expensive-looking woman sauntered in and out while you were there. you earned looks, of course, but you also didn't care much. you needed a break and a cigarette horribly.

you were maybe 6 minutes into your isolation when the door opened and heels clicked. leaned over the sink, you watched the entrance and the woman step in through the mirror, but she was not just any woman.

"y/n?" beru's curious eyes met yours, and she quickly walked fully in and let the door close shut by itself behind her. you straightened, turning and clearing your throat.

"beru, hi," you breathed out. she cocked her head, brows pinning together.

"everyone's wondering where you are. you've been in here the whole time?"

"yea, sorry. just... period cramps." your eyes followed her stout figure as she knowingly nodded and reached into her purse, rummaging through the contents.

"i think i might have so advil in here," she mumbled more to herself than to you. "i never leave the house without it. y'know how it is." quickly, you paced the distance between you and her and rested a hand on her searching arm, stopping her. beru's gaze strayed to yours, having to crane her neck a bit, and she gave you a confused look.

"no, that's fine. i dont— i'm fine." more skepticism than confusion now. she eyed you down for a moment before retreating her hands and resting them beside her.

"alright..." a moment of staring. you awkwardly rubbed your hands down your lap, turning and pretending to fix a loose strand of hair in the mirror. silence passed. finally, her hand on your shoulder. you looked to her in the mirror, her gaze fixated on your reflection.

"are you okay?" it caught you off guard.

"yea— of course. why— why do you... uh— ask?" you sputtered, squirming.

beru pursed her lips, looking straight into your eyes in a way that made your body alert. "i don't know. there's tension, i've noticed." she stared a moment longer before walking to the sink beside you and leaning into the glass, fixing her makeup. "i thought you guys would be the next, y'know." her eyes flickered to her stomach. you gulped. "i guess... you know he loves you, right? i can tell." your stomach twisted, something you wished so badly wasn't tears pricking your eyes. the words hurt more than anything, because they made you think. they plunged you into that feeling, actually, forced thoughts you had worked to leave behind right back into your mind, erasing all those nights you turned away from that turmoil.

"if you need to talk, i'm always free." she turned her head to you, then walked over, squeezing your arm. you opened your mouth, searching for words you knew you wouldn't turn up with. "you're my friend. my sister. it doesn't matter if you aren't yet. you know i love you. you know everyone in that room loves you. but i've never seen someone love as much as anakin does you. it's something i can't fathom. sometimes, i think he might not deserve you, but then i see the way he looks at you. with hope. with emotions i thought could only be grasped in books and plays. he does love you, in case you ever doubt it."

those same tears threatened to slip down your cheeks as she leaned in and kissed your cheek. you thought. you thought so much, so distantly. so distantly you did not bother anakin the rest of the dinner. so distantly you almost forgot to say goodbye to shmi and cliegg. so distantly no one questioned it.

---

"fuck!" your shoulders slumped inward, every single emotion physically leaving your body except for lingering anger, which intensified and intensified and intensified. it quickly switched into worry.

the streets were not empty, of course. you could call an uber, but then you'd have to sit out here for a while, where it was cold and brisk and much too unwelcoming. you cursed towing companies and their stupidity, and cursed yourself for being late and not noticing you'd parked in a restricted area of the street. no car. no way home.

you turned away, surveying the roads across and exhaling deeply. "damn it. fuck. of course this happens to me." and so began the long walk back down to the restaurant, in hopes you'd find a taxi there, where it was much more populated. soon, your feet were throbbing in your heels and your handbag might as well have weighed 100 pounds.

"just a bit more," you spoke to no one but yourself and the loitering darkness, whispering and murmuring all around you. "a little longer—" headlights. a car turned on the road and clambered up the street, and was that... anakin. you stopped, and it stopped, and the engines noisily protested, but still, he rolled the window down and gave you a curious look.

"my car got towed," you explained, borderline panting. anakin raised his brows, and you half expected easy quips and a car driving off, but no.

"get in."

you paused, wondering if what had come out of his mouth had actually come out of his mouth. just to be snarky, you looked around a moment, then back at him, pointing to yourself. "a— are you talking to me— or do you do just casually drive up to women on the road and tell them to get in your car every night?"

"the latter. get in." rolling your eyes, you near-stomped up to the car and opened the door, slinking into the familiar seats. the smell of pine and rich bark filled your nose, and it brought back memories of so many things, that the scent seemed more foul than sweet.

"how unoriginal," you nodded to the tree-like car refresher hanging from the rearview mirror that was the whole reason it smelled this way.

"really, 'cause i remember you picking this out for me. said something along the lines of, 'now your car will smell good'."

you shut your mouth and looked out the window as he hit the pedal and started driving away from the street. in fact, you shut your mouth the whole ride to what you assumed was your house—unless he was planning to axe murder you, of course—and only opened it when you actually thought he was planning to. instead of keeping straight, he turned onto your town's main road and started through the many shops and stores.

"this is not the way dumbass."

"you think i forgot? it's only been three months. and you never told me to bring you home," anakin countered, looking to you for a second before focusing back on the road.

"well i doubt you're any good at kidnapping, so where are you bringing me?" you studied the lines of his face, the way the shadows carved his cheeks and jaw and the stop lights brightened his eyes. your stomach twisted, and beru's words came rushing back. you wondered if you still looked at him in that way. hopefully. lovingly. stupidly.

"ice cream, dumbass.'

"i don't want ice cream anymore, dumbass."

"well too bad, 'cause i want it, dumbass."

---

"get me a—"

"i know!"

---

despite your earlier claims, you devoured your chocolate ice cream like it was the last thing you'd ever eat on earth, unknowing of just how hungry you were now that you didn't have any food to eat. the rich delicacy coated your tongue and bit into your throat, chilled and soft and so so lovely. you held anakin's pecan ice cream in your other hand as you walked out the small yet cozy shop and opened the car door—not without a struggle—slinking inside. you were a bit damp, as it was slightly drizzling out, but the rain was not what you cared for.

"how'd you remember my order?" anakin asked indifferently, his voice laced with easiness as you handed him the cup between your rapid licks.

"it's only been three months," you quoted him in a mocking tone, but was too fixated on the sweet treat in your hands to catch the look of annoyance he gave you. "shit. i don't think i don't even remember the last time i had ice cream. i forgot how good—" a lick, "—it is."

anakin chuckled. "it's not gonna run away. slow down."

"dessert waits for no one," you countered in a smart-ass tone, finally pausing to look his way. he stared incredulously at you, his lips parting and even more laughter gracing your ears and filling the chocolate-and-pecan tainted air. "what?" you pursed your lips, and his fingers came to his own, pointing.

"you uh—" laughter, "have something... everywhere."

"yea, thanks for the details, jackass. have something where," you mused with a slight smile.

anakin only laughed, trailing his mouth with his finger and watching you wipe at your face.

"there. is it gone?" you found yourself speaking in between your giggles.

"ice cream can never be that good," he teased, watching you finally pull down the mirror and inspect your lips. you gawked. it was everywhere. truly. even on your nose.

"yea, you're a great help, anakin."

"anakin?" he cocked his head, and you briefly looked to him, raising a brow. "i don't think i've heard you call me that yet. dickswab, yes, maybe shit-face."

"i hate you," you laughed, shaking your head and turning back to the mirror. "and if you don't eat that soon, i will." you gestured to the pecan ice cream in his hand that you'd only seen him manage two spoons of in your chocolate frenzy.

his eyes trailed your figure as you wiped and wiped and wiped, that perfect smile seemingly stuck to his lips. how long had it been since you last saw it, anyways? too long, you decided, as you turned and pushed away the mirror, meeting those stupidly blue irises with your own. yes. much too long.

"and you're the one who said you didn't want any," he quipped one last time before taking the spoon and digging it in, coming up with pecan-littered smoothness. his lips wrapped around the plastic, and your smile died as you watched him. silence fell. you stared and stared for what seemed like hours. "you're drooling."

"over the ice cream, duh," came your half-thought reply. but ice cream was a long-forgotten thing. he chuckled, eyes straying from the bowl, to your own. you gulped. again, quiet. it fell so easily. too easily. too calmly. but silence wasn't calm at all. it was s wild, unruly thing, and you could feel its chaos leeching the worry from you. feel it everywhere. the way he looked at you. hopefully. like in the books. beru's words came rushing back to you, and suddenly, the silence was not a good thing. it was horrible. it was death. you swallowed down thickness and lingering chocolate, your heart twisting in your chest as you thought back on what she said, and turned away.

"i— i'm tired." the mood immediately changed. "can you just bring me home now?"

his throat bobbed. "sure.." anakin must've felt the shift too, too, because a moment's stare at you longer and he was dropping the bowl into the cup holder and turning on the car, backing out and away from whatever had conspired in that moment.

as the stores hid behind the bend he turned on to your house, the unease that gripped your throat morphed into something bigger. something greater. anger. he had let you leave. no person who loved you as much as beru said he did would just let you leave without a fight. why hadn't he fought, anyways? he didn't love you. maybe at some point, but not nearing the end of your relationship. and maybe you were the one that left in the end, but it was never because you wanted to. it was because you wanted him. you wanted him back. you thought maybe, if you left, he'd see the impact you had on his life. he'd leave his differences behind, just to get you back. you thought he'd change. how stupid. how ironic. you almost laughed at it, too. because he would never. the whole reason you fought was because of his tendency to push you away. to isolate himself. to torture his mind with his thoughts. it drove you crazy, and it was what led to your relationships' demise.

"are you okay?"

"yea." you shrugged, staring out the window and tucking your hands between your closed thighs. but your tone was harsh and rude. he knew something was up, and to his credit, didn't question any further.

when, finally, he pulled into your driveway, tears were pricking your eyes. ones of anger, firstly, but sorrow for what could've been secondly.

"i'll walk you to your door," anakin offered as you unbuckled your seatbelt, doing the same.

"it's fine," was your only reply as you harshly opened the door and stepped out, squeezing your handbag like a lifeline. rain pattered against your skin, but you didn't seem to care. not as your hair soaked through and your dress clung to your body. you roughly shut it behind you and started walking the length up to your entrance, heels clicking on the concrete, when the loud thud of his own door shutting sounded beside you. you ignored him, even as his footsteps drew nearer underneath the sound of the rain.

"can you hold on for one moment?" anakin's voice called, then, his hand on your arm. you shoved him off of you, not even looking him in the eye.

"leave me alone." water slid down your face, and you were glad for it. glad the tears streaking your cheeks looked more like the precipitation than your feelings unraveled.

"what is your problem?!" he hissed, hair clinging to his forehead and liquid dripping off his lashes. "what did i even do?!" a demand.

you stopped, whirled around, and conjured up the nastiest look known to man on your face. "not what you did, anakin. what you did was hurt me, what you did was shut me out, what you did was pretend your own damn girlfriend didn't exist. but maybe that would've been excusable. it's what you didn't fucking do."

he shut his mouth, shriveled. you hadn't talked about it, and right now, you were. it was like an unspoken rule. don't speak of the breakup. but now... he stared into your hurt eyes.

"what you didn't fucking do, was go after me. how can you say that you love me, and then let me leave you?! do you think i wanted to go in the first place?! do you think for one second that i'd just leave you like that because of some stupid fucking fights?!" you cried over the rain. your sobbing was evident now. the rise and fall of your chest, the plea in your voice, hidden by anger, your face, twisted in frustration and pain. "answer me, anakin!" you hit his chest, and hit it again, your bag falling to the ground. "do you think for one fucking second, that i meant it when i said i hated you?! do you think i would just abandon you after 3 years of loving you because you turned away?! you selfish bastard!" you hit, and hit, and hit, and still, he did not budge. it infuriated you more.

your fists collided with his chest over and over again, and anakin just stared down at you, his face crumbling but still upright. you wanted it to fall. so badly. "you broke me! you fucked me up, asshole. i thought you'd go after me, i thought you'd care again, and you didn't! you didn't give two shits. and i don't hate you, but i hate you for what you didn't do for me. i hate you for not fighting, and i hate you for thinking that i wouldn't fight!" with each punch, you became slower. your arms became heavier. rain claimed you in its grasp, but you didn't care.

"say something, anakin," you begged, sobbing and stopping your fighting altogether. you stumbled back and your arms circled around your middle. he did not answer your plea. did not say anything at all. just studied you. finally, you bent and grabbed your slippery bag in your hands, staring at him a moment more and willing him to speak, before turning, heart heavy, to your door.

your hand was on the knob when his voice sounded. "i wanted you to leave." you bristled, and everything within you stopped. sadness, and then... "because i did not deserve you, and it hurt to know. it hurt to watch you linger around me, when i knew you could've done much greater things with your life. it hurt to know i was the one holding you back, that it was my fault you were in such pain. i couldn't... i couldn't handle it. i couldn't handle knowing you deserved a better man. someone who would hold you but not hold you back, someone who would care but not be overly careful. i was hurting you, and it hurt me. i wanted you to leave, not because i didn't want you, but because i knew you shouldn't have wanted me."

the words struck you like a bullet to the chest. your back was still to him, but your surprise was evident in the way your shoulders tensed, just as your heart did beneath the safety of your ribs. you stared at a crack in the wood and thought. the tears stopped, but rain still pattered across your face.

"and i know it is selfish. i know i'm a selfish bastard for hurting you in the way i did and deeming it for your own good, but it was killing me, too. loving you was killing me, because i loved you too much, but i knew no matter how much i did, i'd never deserve your love in return. and i should've told you, and i'm so sorry that i didn't, y/n, and i'm so sorry that i hurt you like this, and i know it's too late—"

"it's only been three months," you quoted. he had not noticed you turn around, looking so intently at anything but you, but now, his eyes were fixed on yours, and you were staring, and he was staring. and for a moment or two, rain was the only sound, his blue eyes were the only sight, and an eternity and a half later, he was kissing you.

back against the door, soaked hands in soaked hair, and the taste of weather on his lips. it was a kiss for three months lost, and it was everything. soft, then fervent, fervent, then soft, as if to make up for time long gone, and it really did. you felt every inch of him part against every part of you, and pressing, and pressing, and pressing. when you parted, you pulled a few inches away from him.

"there is no better man. there's only you, anakin." you whispered. "you're selfish and stupid, but only because you can't realize that. you can't not deserve someone who loves you, because it doesn't make sense. they chose you, so obviously you're worthy. and i hate you for not telling me, too, but i hate a lot of things." you shrugged. "so.. it's okay. i forgive you, and... i guess i'm sorry for hitting you... or whatever, but you deserved it for being stupid."

he laughed, and with red eyes you now knew were from crying, stared back into yours. "i hate you too, and i guess i'm sorry for not realizing it sooner." anakin's head cocked to one side, inspecting your wide smile. "and i see why you like the chocolate. it tastes good." he tasted it the rest of the night.

.

RED = TAYLOR REFERENCE AND I'LL BE PUTTING THEM IN ALL MY WORKS FROM NOW ON 🤭🤭

thanks for reading!! ik its a bit lengthy but i was grinding the shit out of this fic soooo

anyways, hope requester liked it! requests are always open ❤️❤️

@blairwaldrfsworld

HEY YALL ITS MY BDAY TODAY!! im officially 18