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throughparisallthroughrome · 25 days ago

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“Got The Blues Back In Boston”

Chapter 2

Pairing: Modern!Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Description: Leaving behind an incompatible college and profound heartbreak on the Virginia Coast, you find yourself home again in Brookline, Massachusetts. A new opportunity presents itself to you at MIT, joining your brother ben and childhood friends/ neighbors, Anakin and Ahsoka. Despite the familiarity, you discover just how much of a difference 2 years away can really make between the people you once considered family.

Warnings: f!reader, angst, jealousy, pining, smut, masturbation, mentions/descriptions of domestic abuse, cursing, drinking/drug usage, academic obsession, general obsession, hardcore partying, frats, general college bullshit

DISCLAIMER!!! READ BEFORE PROCEEDING: I've never been in an abusive relationship- I've only witnessed them. I'm an aspiring psychology major and have done a lot of research on the topic of domestic abuse/violence. This series deals with this topic HEAVILY, so be warned.

Word Count: 8.3k

A/N: I am so sorry this update took so long! This chapter wasn’t actually supposed to end like this but if I ended it the way I wanted it to, it’d be like 15k words. I decided it’d be best to split it up, so if things are a little weird in between that’s why. Thank you so much to everyone who’s been reading and keeping up! Life’s been a mess lately but I’m so excited to put my work out there. Please enjoy! and let me know if you wished to be tagged. As always, requests are open and feedback is welcome! :)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

To you, there was nothing more magical than the fall in Boston.

Everywhere you go, the streets are painted with vibrant colors and rich textures. It’s warm, inviting, and the most magical time of the year. Winter was a very close second, but nothing beat autumn. The Tudor-style homes on your street looked straight out of a fairytale, and the yards were covered in beautiful shades of orange, red, and yellow. The air was crisp, and there was always a faint smell of burning leaves from somewhere. It always stayed under 65 degrees but never dropped below 46. It was perfect.

As you grew up, you had always taken the same path to the diner, watching Tuesday night come every single week as the seasons and the neighborhood changed. There was a building on the corner of Maple and Main that never stayed occupied, and you could always count on Francis walking her poodle around the same time. Whether or not you liked it, Boston would change, with or without you.

In Hampton, you hated watching the seasons pass by, especially in autumn. It made you long for those wintry days in Brookline, listening to the boys cheer on the patriots while your mother and Shmi prepared dinner over some wine. You and Ahsoka always did “homework,” watching the game from a distance and mostly gossiping. You’d attempt to watch the game from a distance in Hampton, craving that little piece of home you missed the most. Still, it was always shut down by some “extremely important soccer game” Nick just had to watch. But you knew he hated you for longing for something other than him- what was he made for then?

But as the weeks went by, you really began to notice just how much you missed. You joined Ahsoka and Padme in the library most days, cramming as much information as possible- wanting, well, desperately needing an A. Yes, an A was good, but it was more to make you feel in control of your life once again. You needed the satisfaction- and the distraction.

It would be hard to say you didn’t notice the way Padme and Ahsoka would look at you when they thought you didn’t notice. So much pity. You hated it. They’d have these ‘knowing glances’ with each other and you felt that they were always talking about you the second you walked away. That part of high school you did not miss- but these were your friends, your best friends, and they shouldn’t be treating you like this- making you feel like this. When you asked them, they swore up and down it was nothing, they weren’t keeping secrets, and everything was okay. But the second you looked away- there was that knowing look between them. And it was driving you crazy.

And then there was Ben too, he was just so- not himself. Sure, Ben was always a nice guy, and he was a great person- but he was your older brother. And he always gave you a hard time, just for shit’s and giggles, and of course you always gave it right back. That’s what siblings are for. But after that first night back, things were so different. He was so soft towards you, so kind. He kept checking up on you, asking if you needed help with school, insisting on doing everything for you. It was nice- but it wasn’t him. And it just made you hurt more. All you wanted was for things to be normal.

Despite everyone being different- you had only hoped Anakin was the same. And not to your surprise, he wasn’t. In fact, Anakin was worse than everyone else. But he carried a certain burden with him- almost, guilt? It didn’t make sense to you- none of it did. And you tried so, so hard not to let it bother you, but it seemed impossible. So, maybe pushing them away was the best option. You hated the way everyone was making you feel- including yourself- but only you had control of yourself, so maybe that was your best option.

And so the study dates became solo dates, the family dinners were eaten in your room, and your weekly diner travels were now just a tradition that only you seemed to care about keeping up with. It was fine- you were fine. You didn’t want to admit that you were lonely- but you were, and you definitely felt it.

You pushed open the door to the diner. The sweet smell of apple pie filled your senses and calmed you simultaneously. The same regulars were lined up at the bar, playing darts and betting on football games. At least if Boston and your friends were always changing, Dex’s would stay the same.

“What’ll you have sweetheart, long time no see?” Dex winked at you while cleaning a glass before sliding some napkins and silverware your way.

“Just a diet coke, maybe a slice of pie.” You mumbled out, tracing out the details of the countertop with a cocktail straw. Time had just flown by, and you’d give anything to be in high school at Dex’s after Anakin and Ben’s football games. They swore for the longest time they’d go pro- I suppose engineering is better. Less painful.

“What’s got you so down, kid?” Dex leaned against the counter, grabbing the cocktail straw and throwing it at you to get your attention. You stifled a chuckle.

“I don’t know, Dex.” You sigh, mashing your fork against the pie he gave you ‘on the house,’ “Things have just been so weird since I got back. Not sure what went wrong.”

“It’s a mess up there, huh?” He smiles, and you quirk a brow.

“Up where?”

“Up in that brain of yours.” You scoff.

“Gee, thanks.” You roll your eyes, setting your head down on the bar and huffing.

“Okay, but in all seriousness, have you talked to anyone about this? You’re not yourself, kid. Maybe Anakin could help?” He raises his brows playfully, and you roll your eyes.

“Heh. Yeah, right. Anakin’s been praying on my downfall for years. Well, maybe not. We’ll see.” You shoot a wink at Dex, and he smiles, hitting his hand on the counter.

“You know I’ve always been rooting for the two of you; I’m sure whatever is going on will work itself out.”

Dex had known all of you since you were children, which made going to his diner a familiar, comforting routine. It stopped when you left. Yet, when you came back, it only strengthened the urge to revisit. He had offered a job again, but you declined. When you worked for him before, you occasionally found that money mysteriously didn't make its way to you. He was sweet and kind and had brilliant advice, but reliability wasn’t exactly his nature.

Regardless, you got a job at a local bar in downtown Boston. Anakin and Ben were not enthusiastic about the idea. But the staff was kind, the uniforms were a bit skimpy, and you had gotten to know some regulars. On your first night, you made $400. You didn’t plan on leaving it anytime soon. MIT wasn’t exactly cheap, and neither was Boston.

A mere 10-minute drive from the house, Mazzy's stood out as the most disreputable dive bar in the vicinity. You had done a lot of your underage drinking there, pretending to enjoy the various sports as you drank $3 Bud Light and played beer pong. They had a different drink special every day of the week - $5 margaritas on Mondays, tequila shots on Tuesdays, wine on Wednesdays, and karaoke + Vegas bombs on throwback Thursdays (which was always your favorite). So, it was fitting for you to work there; the manager knew you since you were a kid with a fake ID. He wasn’t exactly fond of the idea that he served you underage- but you had open availability, and they were desperate.

And you were a hard worker, staying late most nights and offering to cover shifts when you could. College was hard, and you didn’t necessarily need to work as much as you did, but the distraction helped, and the money was a nice bonus, too. Plus, there had to be something fun in it for you, too…

That’s how you ended up a champion at pool, beating all the regulars and making more money off your bets than you did tips.

Anakin heard about your little side hustle from one of his coworkers at the shop, talking about the “Kenobi girl who’s undefeated.” He felt the wrench falter in his grip and wiped the excess oil off his stained jeans as the smile spread on his face. Kenobi girl has a side deal? Oh, he’d never get over this. How the mighty have fallen.

On that note, Anakin immediately decided to pay you a visit later that night, not being able to resist the idea of breaking your winning streak. After all, who do you think taught you to play?

Upon entering the door, the loud music and dim lights assaulted his senses, and the pungent smell of smoke and rowdy laughter almost overwhelmed him. This was where you worked? What a dump. Scanning the dance floor, his eyes moved swiftly from one dancing body to another, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. The walls were adorned with pictures and writing, the chairs and tables were in disarray, and the bar was surrounded by numerous cups and beer bottles that caught his attention.

It didn't take him much time to track you down, guided by the sound of your laughter resonating in the crowded space as you approached a lively bunch of guys playing pool, holding a tray brimming with shots. Awesome. Now he was going to have to kick your ass at pool, as well as kick some asshole's ass, and then kick your ass again for entertaining it. Cool. Cool, Cool. He could do that. Yeah, he was cool.

“You cool man? Looking for the bar?” Anakin quickly broke out of his trance, looking at the older, distressed man before him—definitely the manager.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m good. Just taking it all in-“

“Cool, bars over there, man.” The older man pats his back, sending him towards the bar. Anakin shakes his head, furrowing his brows at the interaction. The fuck?

As he approached the bar, his eyes scanned the stools and calculated where he’d get the best view of you while remaining out of sight. He was still a little annoyed and didn’t want to make a scene so quickly, you know? Plus, he needed to study your strategies. How did the little one get so good at pool that she’s running a ring? Interesting.

“What’ll you have, hun?” The older redhead leans across the bar, wiping down the icy surface with a bar rag as Anakin settles into his seat.

“Uh, just a Modelo for now.” He quickly pulls out his wallet and flashes his ID, his eyes barely leaving your figure.

“Uh huh,” Her eyes flicker at Anakin, trailing them towards you as her lips upturned in a smile, “I’ll be right back with that.”

Anakin slides onto the stool, quickly propping his head on his hand as he keeps his gaze locked on you, while also trying to look as un-creepy as possible (it’s not working). He observes you giggling at one of the guys, playfully aiming your pool stick at his chest like a gun, threatening to shoot. The men all completely feed into it. You little slut. Next thing he knows, you’re leaning down to make a shot, your innocence showing as you stick your ass in the faces of 4 frat guys as they whisper. Your pigtails bounced onto the table as you focused on your shot, one eye closed and your tongue sticking out in concentration. His pants were suddenly so tight. What the fuck do you think you’re doing? What could have-

“You know, I’m pretty sure she’s taken.” The redhead pushes the beer towards him, “Otherwise, with the way you’re looking at her, I’d tell you to ask her for her number. Keep it open or close it?” Anakin’s eyes widened.

“Taken?” He stutters out, his mouth hanging open.

“No, your tab, dumbass.” She laughs, picking up a bottle out of the well and cleaning it. “You look like you need to keep it open. And yeah, she’s taken. She talks about him all the time, actually. He’s a family friend- they grew up together. Think his name is Andrew or something.”

“Andrew, huh? Interesting.” Anakin’s smile widens, taking a swig of his beer. You were talking about him. And everyone thought you were his? He might have to play along.

When he looked back at the table, you had disappeared. Anakin tilted his head in confusion, his gaze sweeping the room until it landed on you at the opposite end of the bar, where his eyes locked onto yours as the redhead tried to talk to you.

“Anakin?” You laughed, not noticing redhead’s brow raise and sudden attention towards the two of you, “What are you doing here? I-” You cocked your head in confusion. Something about Anakin’s unwavering smile was so unreadable.

“Heard about a certain Kenobi girl’s pool bets from the guys. Had to see it for myself.” He turned towards you, subconsciously spreading his legs as his finger traced the rim of his beer glass. His pride grew as the redness spread on your face.

“Didn’t- Uh- Didn’t think word was getting around that fast. Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck is right.” Anakin starts, and redhead approaches, pretending to clean bar glasses as she eyeballs the interaction in front of her. “No wonder you’re making so much money. Afraid I’m gonna have to end this streak of yours, though.”

You scoff, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes, shaking your head at the audacity of the man before you. One beer, and he felt like he was God? He desperately needed to be humbled.

“So that’s what this is about? You just hate to see me beating you at something? Didn’t think after all these years you were still so desperate, Anakin. I- fine, but what’s in it for me?” You hop up on the stool next to him, narrowing your eyes as your gaze runs over his lips, the honey of his laughter sweet in your ears.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He smiles, moving closer to you as his eyes trace your lips back, the grin growing on his face.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You swallow, sitting up straighter and pulling away from him.

“Like what, Y/N?” He grins, mimicking your actions as he leans back and takes another drink of his beer.

“Anakin-“

“How about, if you win, I’ll be your DD for a month- AND- and- I’ll finally join you for karaoke. And if I win, well, I know I never want to see that outfit in public again, I want you to stop entertaining every guy you serve.” You roll your eyes at his protectiveness, sighing at his request.

“Fine, but only because what I get out of this deal is so much better than what you might get. Now come on.” You stand up, offering your hand to him as you pull him off the bar stool, “Amy, would you be a doll and keep an eye on my section?” Ah, so Redhead does have a name.

As you led him to a table in a dark corner away from everyone, he shot the other men a smile. A boastful smile. He may not have known that he wanted you just yet, but he knew he didn’t want others to have you. It was just him being protective, right? Besides, what’s really the difference between those two things…

“After you, sir.” You lined up the colorful, numbered balls and invited him for 8 ball, handing him a stick to make the first move.

“Are you sure, madam? Ladies first, you know. Chivalry isn’t dead.” He shot you a wink, tossing you the pool cue as you rolled his eyes. He was definitely tipsy. And you were definitely taking him home tonight. Not like that.

You started the game off strongly, hitting two solid shots right into the pocket, the satisfying *clink* echoing between the tension. You grinned. And shockingly enough, so did Anakin. His eyes cold and calculating, he struck the cue ball, the sharp *thwack* followed by the soft, almost silent roll of the red-striped ball across the green felt until it finally sank into the hole. If there was one thing your families took seriously- it was a bet.

You kept the game going, sharing plenty of shit-talking and shots, making sure to feed him a few more (which, in hindsight, was probably a mistake). You hit in your 3rd and 4th balls, your eyes catching the men at the other table. But, as always, your eyes immediately went back to Anakin. You flashed him an innocent smile, not feeding into his small touches that made you dizzy and the way his eyes flicked down to your lips. It’s okay. He was only drunk- and that couldn’t happen again.

Eventually, you beat him. While completely intoxicated, Anakin stumbled, his hand a blur as he somehow knocked the 8-ball in on his third try; the cue ball spun wildly, a final, chaotic movement before settling. You gave him a pass, a condescending smile playing on your lips as you told him you'd happily give him a rematch, though the outcome wouldn't change. Unfazed by your comment, he simply stared, his blown pupils swimming with an unsettling, well-known emotion. A palpable tension hung in the air, heavy with more unspoken words. A sudden chill raised the hairs on your arms, your breath catching in your throat as an unnatural silence filled the air between you. You cleared your throat and smiled, shaking the thought out of your head.

“C’mon drunkie- let’s get you up here.” You held your arm under his shoulder, guiding him back to the bar through the dwindling customers. He wasn't exactly being easy, his laughter echoing in the air as he teased you relentlessly, his hand dropping lower and lower on your waist with each step. You tried not to pay attention to the strange way it made your heart pound in your chest. But you could divert your focus to work- finally.

It was now 2:30. And you needed to get out of there. You carefully propped him up against the sticky, mahogany bar, your finger stabbing emphatically at his chest as you barked, "Don't move!" before turning to whatever remaining side work you had been neglecting. With a shake of your head, you freed your hair from the uncomfortable low pigtails, the strands falling around your shoulders. Okay, you had silverware, trash, bathrooms, sweeping, and-

“Y/N? Can you come here?” You heard Amy call from the bar as you swept, and you turned around, only to see Anakin passed out on the bar. His head lolled against his crossed arms, a soft rhythmic snoring emanating from his relaxed body.

“Fuck,” You mumbled, setting down the broom and running over to the bar, shaking the sleepy man awake. His eyes fluttered open, a soft smile playing on his lips as you rolled your eyes, a sigh escaping your lips.

“Hey, beautiful- you gonna take me home?” A raspy mumble escaped his lips as his fingers, warm and slightly damp, caressed your cheek, lingering just a moment too long. Attempting to ignore his continuing advances, your eyes are drawn to Amy; a subtle arch of her eyebrow and a slight nod toward the door provide your much-needed escape.

“C’mon, sleepy- let’s get you home.” You helped him up again, mouthing a quick thank you to Amy before taking him to the back door.

“I just- I- I can’t believe you’re so good at pool! I mean, I’m soooooo proud, yknow? I taught you so well. The guys were talking about it at work, and I just had to come see it for myself. So adorable.” He mumbles through the parking lot, laughing at his own jokes, and it’s clear he knows he’s not making much sense.

If this was anyone else- you’d be a little pissed off. But there was always a certain tenderness in your heart reserved for Anakin, a weakness you couldn't deny. Taking care of him when you knew you could just, well, made things better. He usually never let you get the chance, but right now, it felt like you were getting your old life back.

With a grunt, you pushed him into the passenger seat of his car; the smell of stale coffee and old leather filled the air, and you figured he’d take you to get your car the next day—payback, of course. You plug your phone in and turn the volume up for Mazzy Star, letting the softness of her voice fill the emptiness of the car. Anakin's head rests on your shoulder, his soft snores a gentle rhythm against your neck as you drive down the familiar streets, the houses blurring into a comforting stream of colors.

You pull into his driveway, the harsh cold biting your face as you open the door. Anakin slumped down further, his head resting on the center console. You bit your lip, the metallic tang of blood filling your mouth, as you weighed your options, watching his body move slowly as he inhaled and slowly exhaled, his brows furrowing in his sleep. What could he be dreaming about that was getting him so worked up? You didn’t have time for this- it was cold, he was asleep, and you needed to make a decision.

You couldn’t just tell him to get out of his car and go to bed- he didn’t deserve that, even if he did get wasted at your job. Well, you kinda got him wasted. And if you did take him inside, there was a chance you’d run into Shmi or Ahsoka, and that wasn’t really a conversation you wanted to have, especially considering how this looked. And if you took him inside, got away with not running into anyone, there’s the chance that once he gets in bed, he’d ask you to stay. That would be awkward. And even if you did stay, there’s only a 50% chance you’d have sex again and make it all weird. The question is- were you willing to risk it?

“Fuck,” You watched him sleep, knowing what you had to do. You got back into the car, shutting the door behind you and turning it on. The heat kicked up again, the sound of “blue light” filling your ears as you watched him next to you. You didn’t have to wake him up just yet. Sure, it was nearing 3:30 in the morning, but you knew he was tired and probably not feeling well.

You let out a soft sigh, sinking into your seat, and slowly reach your hand to cup Anakin’s face, gently stroking his cheek as you felt the warmth of his skin. You didn't notice the subtle, almost imperceptible twitch of his lips under your touch, a drunken smile masked by his feigned sleep.

“You’re frustrating, you know that?” You mumble to him, knowing he won’t respond. “But I still love you. It’s okay. I just know I won’t hear the end of this tomorrow. Which- you owe me. I need my car at some point. But- fuck- I know I’m gonna have to get you up in a second, and I really don’t want to. I’m so tired. Fuck.”

You glance over at him, noticing the grin on his face, and your heart drops slightly. “Fuck off- are you pretending?”

He opens one eye slightly and bursts into laughter, his head hitting the back of the seat while he practically slaps his knee.

“I-I’m so sorry-“ He manages to breathe out, his face hot and red, “I actually was sleeping, but you started talkin,g and I just- I got invested.”

“Uh-huh. Well, parties over. Time for bed.”

“No-“

“Zip it.” You grin, your finger against his lips to shut him up. His eyes glance down to your finger, a mischievous glint forming in his pupils as he presses a soft kiss to your finger.

“Anakin, come on. We gotta go. It’s so late.” You grab his face to get his attention, your stare firm and unwavering against his giggles.

“Okay, okay. We’ll go. Basement’s unlocked.” He kisses the top of your hand, turning towards his car door and attempting to open it.

“Wait- Anakin- I got it.” You turned the car out, rushing around to his side and opening the door for him.

“Here, hold my hand.” You hold your hand out for him, and he smirks, quickly taking it in his hand.

“Gotta buy me dinner first, sweetheart.”

“Anakin, we’re way past dinner. Now come on.” You pull him alongside you, draping your purse on his shoulder as you walk around the side of the house to the basement door.

“God, it’s fucking cold.” He mumbles, his hand slipping from yours and meeting your waist again, “Might need you to warm me up.” You scoff.

“No, Anakin- just need to get you to bed.” Mumbling, you avoid his eye contact and open the door, practically pushing him into it.

“Alright, alright, I’m going Y/N/N. Jesus.” He stumbles through the mudroom, kicking off his shoes and attempting to shimmy off his jacket.

Behind him, you sigh and mutter your help, your fingers slow and deliberate as you peel away the brown leather, noticing its softness and the faint, earthy smell. You hold the jacket under your arm, leaning into his back and resting your head on his shoulder. Anakin leans his own head back, his fingers dancing around to meet yours again as a smile spreads across his lips.

“I missed you.” He mumbles, his voice smooth and raspy. You subconsciously squeeze your legs together a little tighter. “Just hasn’t been the same. Just need to make sure you’re okay. And safe. God, I needed you to be safe.”

Your body shakes from behind him as your breath suddenly hitches in your throat. Afraid he’ll see your wet eyes again, you squeeze his hand a little tighter, feeling the rough texture of his skin against yours. But you know he can feel your tears through his thin shirt. And you hope he chooses not to comment on it. He doesn’t. Anakin's sudden turn sent a jolt through you as his arms pinned yours, his brow a deep furrow, pupils dilated with alarm.

“Stay with me tonight. Please.” He begs softly.

“Anakin-“

“Please. Just tonight. I don’t want to be alone.” You sigh.

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep, okay?” You tear your eyes away from his, leaning closer to his chest as he wraps his arms around you. “I can’t stay, Anakin. I’m sorry.” You mumble against him, but he doesn’t respond; he just rubs your back and drops his head to your shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed.” You break the hug, tearing away from him as you lead him to his room.

Stepping into the familiar space, the soft glow of the lamps and the comfortable quiet bring a smile to your face—it never changes. The posters on his wall, the messy drawings near his desk, the random clothes on his floor.

“M sorry it’s messy.” He mumbles as he walks behind you, kicking random things out of the way as he stumbles to the bathroom. “Make yourself comfortable.” The door clicks behind him, and you fall back onto his bed and close your eyes.

How the fuck did you end up here? You squeeze your eyes, attempting to navigate the night somehow. Nothing ever made sense with Anakin- but it always, always made sense. You let your purse drop to the floor as you kick off your sneakers.

“Ben’s gonna kill me.” You groan as you rub your eyes, not caring about the makeup under your fingers

“No, he’s not.” Anakin’s bathroom door practically slams open as he stumbles out of it with nothing but some low-hanging sweats. You shouldn’t look- but you do. And, of course, he smirks.

“Like what you see?” He asks before jumping on the bed next to you and practically putting you into a headlock. You scream in response, giggling at his childish antics. It was well past 4am at this point. Anakin had to be at work at 9.

“Let me go!” You squeal in protest, the feeling of his arms around you a mixture of panic and exhilaration as he holds you tighter, his laughter echoing. He pulls you up, his strong hands gripping your arms, then throws you gently to the other side of the bed next to him.

“God, I’m tired.” He yawns and rolls over to face you, his fingers moving toward your chin while he stares at your lips. “Need some rest.”

“Yeah.” You hiccup.

He leans in, the warmth of his breath a whisper against your skin, his eyes glued to your lips. At this point, mere inches separated you, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs as butterflies did somersaults in your stomach. And just as his thumb meets your chin, you break into a coughing fit. You roll over and grab his pillow, coughing aggressively into it. Was it on purpose? Maybe.

His hand meets your back, rubbing gentle circles while you continue to fake your coughs, each one more excruciating than the last.

“Mm- sorry.” You mumble, coming up from his pillow- your face red and eyes watery. “Better get to sleep, Ani.”

“Yeah.” He whispers, his eyes gently drooping as they never leave yours. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

“Sweet dreams, Ani.” You hold your breath momentarily and close your eyes as you press a soft kiss to the top of his head. His skin was soft and warm underneath your lips, and you realize it probably lingered a lot longer than it needed to.

You lie on your back, staring at the ceiling, listening to his soft breaths as he scoots closer to “get comfortable,” his arm brushing against yours. He pulled you close, his legs a comforting weight against yours, arm securely around your torso, his hand resting lightly but possessively on your shoulder. If Anakin could find any possible excuse to cuddle, he would- especially when he was drunk.

Once you heard the soft, rhythmic snores leaving his lips, you carefully began to extract yourself from his bed, moving as slowly as you could to avoid waking him. You sat up slowly, his arms falling into a comfortable position, the quiet stillness of the room broken only by the gentle rustle of the sheets. Unfortunately, his bed was against the wall, and he was the closest to the edge. That would be something else you had to work around.

You shimmied your feet away, slowly inching closer to the wall and out of his grasp. Before scooting further from the man in his bed, you took a second to study his sleeping form, noticing the rise and fall of his chest and the peaceful set of his jaw. In the dim, orange glow of the salt lamp on his nightstand, Anakin's face appeared almost ethereal, his features softened by the soft light. His lips parted slightly, his brows furrowed in a deep frown, his cheek squished into the soft, downy pillow. It’d be difficult to not want to stay.

You finally slid off the bed, your sock-clad feet hitting the cold, smooth wooden floor, the chill seeping into your toes. You snatched your shoes and purse, the leather cool against your skin, then tiptoed to the door, desperate to avoid waking him. The door creaked under your touch, a rusty groan that echoed the finality of your action as you looked at him one last time before sighing and shutting the door. You leaned against the door, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration.

The light turns on. Fuck.

At this point in time, you have 2 seconds to get out of the basement door before Ahsoka, Shmi, or Cliegg confront you about this.

So, you run. Thank god the alarm system had been deactivated (they hadn’t put the new one in). You open the back door and shut it quietly behind you as fast as you could.

“Anakin?” You hear Shmi asked, muffled by the sound of the door.

You raced up the hill beside his house, the bright moonlight reflecting off the wet stones of the path as you pushed through fragrant, moonlit bushes. The fragrant jasmine blossoms brushed against you as you walked through the trellis, then around the corner to your driveway, a sense of calm washing over you. Weaving through the cars, the cold seeped into your socks as you unlocked your front door, but the warmth of your house enveloped you as you slipped inside.

You sank to the floor behind your front door, the weight of the day lifting as you finally caught your breath, the quiet of your home surrounding you. You checked your watch; the faint glow of the numbers illuminated the dark, 5:03 AM. Could be worse. At least you managed to find a secret, third option tonight. No sex, not caught, and you stayed with him long enough he was asleep.

However, little do you know, a certain someone’s younger sister happened to be watching from the upstairs window the whole time. She would save that conversation for later, of course.

The faint sounds of birds chirping signal the rising sun as you finally settle into bed. You’re absolutely determined to sleep in- and so you do.

As the sunlight poured in under your sleep mask, it was too bright to be deemed morning light. You stirred slightly, waning out if your dream-filled haze as images of Anakin warming his hands over a fire began to leave your eyes. You reach up, a fingertip brushing against cool silk, and poke an eye out from under the mask, surveying the bright, sunlit room.

One shoe lay near the vanity, the other by the bathroom door, while your clothes were strewn across the floor in a chaotic pile near the bed, a silent testament to a restless night. Your purse was lopsided on your chair- perfume, coins, and miscellaneous gift cards spilling out of it. The kirkland makeup wipes were left open, a couple dirty ones caked with various shades of lipstick and eyeshadow from the previous day were resting comfortably near the trash can. At least you remembered to unplug your curling iron this time; the scorch marks on the carpet from the last incident were still a fresh reminder of your near-disaster.

With a long, slow stretch, you extend your arms over your head, feeling the tension ease from your shoulders as the mask drops to your neck. Rubbing your eyes and letting out a small yawn, sleep was still taking control of you. With a groan, you flip onto your stomach, the mattress springs protesting beneath you, and grab your phone. The time was 4:36 PM and you had slept the day away. This was what Sundays were for- it didn’t matter. Your eyes glanced down to the 14 messages you had received since you fell into your late slumber.

Ani- 8:46 AM: Thank you for last night. I owe you. Hope you got some sleep. I’m glad we spent that time together. And, Y/N- I’m serious if you ever need anything. I’ll always be here for you.

Mom- 10:32 AM: Honey, I left a quiche in the fridge for when you wake up. Just take your time, everything’s okay. I hope you can rest today. Love you.

Shmi- 10:45 AM: Was that you leaving the basement late last night?

Mom- 10:48 AM: I’m so sorry I texted you- hope I didn’t wake you honey. Just want you to be happy and healthy. I’m worried.

Dad- 11:15 AM: Are you awake? Mom’s acting strange again. She’s worried about you.

Soka <3- 12:05 PM: hey, if you’re feeling up to it we should catch a movie tonight- maybe some mexican food and margs after. lemme know. it’s all totally up to you- whatever you feel comfortable with.

Ani- 12:24 PM: Need me to get your car later?

Harvard’s Elite Scholar- 12:49 PM: Hey Y/N/N, been thinking about you lately. Hope you are doing okay today. If you need absolutely anything I’m always here for you- especially if you need some time away from the family. If you ever want to talk- I’m here. I love you girl- hope this weekend was good for money!

Mom- 1:43 PM: Need anything from the store?

Mom- 2:17 PM: I got you some ice cream. It’ll be good for you.

Dad- 2:46 PM: I just got home. Are you awake?

Benny- 3:05 PM: Can I borrow your calculator?

Benny- 3:07 PM: Nevermind. Found mine.

Ani- 3:53 PM: Hey, got off work early. Need car yet?

“Fuck,” You chuck your phone onto the side of your bed, running a hand through your hair as memories of last night filled your mind.

Anakin’s ‘innocent’ touches, his eyes never leaving yours- unless it waa your lips, his soft snores in your car. And he really begged you to stay with him- telling you that he needed you. The soft glow of his lamp, highlighting every little thing you adored about the man. How could you even begin to think about those text messages?

You leaned back into your pillow and groaned, rubbing your eyes as the sun attempted to find its way into your line of sight once more. Did everyone know your secret? Did Anakin tell them? Why was everyone and everything so fucking weird in Brookline.

With two taps on your bedroom door, you groan even louder as you pull the covers over your head. You eyes were heavy, the yawns persisted. You were still exhausted. The taps continued.

“Who is it?” You croaked out as the door opened slowly.

“Hey- woah. Are you okay?” Ben asked as he welcomed himself into your room, plopping onto the bed beside you.

“Yeah,” You bring the covers up further on your chest, eyeing your clothes on the floor. “Just tired.”

“Y/N-“

“I know it’s well past 4. I had a late night.”

“Are you okay?” Ben scoots closer, his brows furrowed as he surveyed your face for any hint of injury or sadness.

“Ben- I’m fine. Anakin came in last night and got wasted while we played pool- well, it was kinda my fault. Anyways, I had to take him home and I didn’t get to sleep until around 5ish. And this weekend was long. I’m exhausted. I still have to study, do some laundry, pick up my fucking car-“

“Slow down.” Ben smiles, “Everything’s going to be okay. You don’t need to be worried anymore, you’re okay.”

You squint your eyes at his words, an undertone behind them you can’t make out.

“What do you mean I don’t have to be worried?” You lean closer, cocking your head slightly to the side.

“Nothing.” Ben avoids your gaze, moving back and bouncing his knee. “I should probably get going.”

“Ben, wait-“ You attempt to hop up after him- but your eyes dance back to the clothes on your floor. Fuck.

“I hope you rest today. Love you.”

The door shuts, the latch clicking softly in the sudden silence. You aggressively throw yourself back down onto the bed, grabbing the pillow and squeezing it against your face, muffling the scream that rips from your throat. You were beyond frustrated with everyone and everything. You needed to go for a hike, get a coffee, or something. But, of course, you didn’t have a fucking car.

A long, hot shower was just what you needed; the steam filled the bathroom, and the heat soothed your aching muscles. With a few candles casting a warm, gentle light and the calming strains of soft music filling the air, you washed the memories and bad thoughts away. With each stroke of soapy water, the gentle friction a welcome sensation, your mind wandered to those mesmerizing deep blue eyes. The feeling of his rough hands in yours, the way they would feel on your waist, traveling down to your hips.

His fingers would dance on the tops of your thighs, while his calloused fingers kissing the exposed skin on your lower back as he lightly pressed you into him. He’d lean closer, his soft pink lips meeting your collarbone, licking and biting while his fingers finally met the inside of your thigh. You could practically smell his cologne at this point, your knees growing weak at the thought, your thighs squeezing together.

Your eyes shot open at the next song. Mazzy Star. Your breath hitches, a gasp caught in your throat as your hand, still resting gently on your hip, lingers; the soap is long gone. You bite your lip at your thought, the guilt eating you alive as your heart pounds.

Your hand moves lower- it’s not like he’d know. He’s your best friend- and surely he’s thought of you like that before too, right? And it absolutely doesn’t mean anything- you just need that ache between your legs to disappear. Post nut clarity, right? It'll slip your mind; you won't even think about it again. You won’t. Nope. Inch by inch, your fingers make their way down until they reach your clit, and a small gasp escapes your lips. You’re too far gone.

You turn the water off, the shower's warmth still clinging to your skin, and open the curtain to a cool breeze that raises goosebumps on your arms. You grab a towel and some lotion, drying yourself while moisturizing. That Boston dry air was no joke. When your body and hands are dry, you pick up your phone from the counter and check.

Mom- 5:12 PM: Dinner’s almost done.

The time was 5:20. They’re definitely waiting on you.

The sound of your feet pounded on the wooden stairs as you swung into the kitchen, hair dripping and shirt on backward. Your mom raises a skeptical eyebrow, tossing the salad with a practiced flick of the wrist, the scent of vinaigrette filling the air. Your dad's laugh cuts through the quiet, drawing your attention to the table where he and Ben are animatedly discussing some sports nonsense, their words punctuated by the occasional thump of a fist on the table.

“The Celtics are on an amazing run is all I’m saying. We Wouldn’t be anything without Jayson Tatum.” Ben takes a sip of his beer, turning around and eyeing the time on the oven.

“Yeah, but he’s no Kobe, Ben. And the Nuggets are doing so much-“

“Fuck Denver!”

“Ben!” Your mom scolds, putting on her oven mitts and pulling out the steaks that have been searing. “Stop it with that! I personally like Denver, I think Jokic is entertaining.”

“And this is why Dad and Ben won’t talk to you about basketball, Mom.” You reach for the white wine, pouring yourself and your mom a glass while she temps the steak. Your fingers shake around the glass a little, your shower thoughts finding their way back into your mind.

“They’re absolutely perfect! I’ve done it again!” Your mom cuts you out of your trance as she squeals. “Bon appetit, my little ones.” She sets the table with dinner, and you awkwardly take a seat next to Ben.

As you begin to serve yourself and eat, the hair on your arms raises as your eyes dart between the people around you, noticing their hushed whispers and judging stares. Dinner felt oddly quiet without the Skywalkers; the missing laughter and familiar banter hung in the air, but you remained silent. The feeling washed over you again, and you glanced up to find your family silently communicating with exaggerated expressions and hand movements, certain you weren't listening. Your mom motions to you, her red lips forming a tight frown as she looks pointedly at Ben, her eyes narrowed. His eyes went wide, a silent plea in their depths, and then he shrugged, the movement dismissing whatever she had tried to convey without words. Your dad furrows his brows at Ben, rolling his eyes at the audacity of his son.

“So,” Your mom starts, setting her fork down as the loud clatter rings through the unusually silent room. “Y/N, we wanted to- well- as a family, we wanted to check in on you and see how you were doing since you’ve got back. We have been worried.”

Your eyes darted to Ben. He avoids your gaze, his fork pressing checkerboard patterns into his mashed potatoes.

“I-I’m fine. I don’t understand. Is this an intervention for a problem I’m not even aware of?” You giggle slightly, staring down at the tomatoes in your salad. The table does not reciprocate your humor.

“We disagree, honey.” Your dad speaks up, and your breath hitches in your throat. “Did something happen in Hampton?” Your heart drops.

“No. Nothing happened. And I don’t know why you’d think that. And I don’t even know why the fuck we’re having this conversation!” Your voice raises, your knuckles turning white around your fork, “In fact, even if something did happen- which it didn’t- I don’t see how it’s the business of anyone sitting at this table! Can we just eat this fucking food? Mom worked hard. Drop it.”

The table goes silent. Your mom picks up her wine glass and takes a long sip. Ben and Dad glance at each other, their silent conversation infuriating you.

“Fuck this.” You push your plate to the center of the table, getting up and leaving as fast as you could before your tears caught up to you.

The door slammed shut behind you, and you scrambled under the covers of your bed, the cool sheets a welcome relief. The darkness of your room provided solace within your panic. Your heart was heavy, weighing down your chest with each ragged breath you took. Getting air under your covers wasn’t exactly easy, either. But within your panic, your survival instincts had vanished, and you remained where you were.

Did Anakin betray your trust? Could your best friend- your confidante- betray you like this? It didn’t seem possible. But everything began to connect. The glances when they thought you weren’t looking- the constant texts and “whatever you want”, “whatever makes you comfortable”, “as long as you are happy”. Was this all just pity?

The thought hung heavy in the air: they had to know, you concluded, a shiver tracing your spine. Whether Anakin told them, or someone else heard- they knew. They knew and that was bad and they were going to be ashamed of you. They knew and they’d never forgive you for leaving them for a piece of shit like Nick. They knew and they’d hurt you like Nick-

“Y/N?” Ben cracked your bedroom door open, the small sound of your sobs filling the dark space.

“Can I please just get some fucking time to myself?” You croak out, throwing the covers back over yourself.

The moment your tear-filled eyes locked with his, a wave of nausea washed over you; your stomach dropped. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, his hands shook uncontrollably, and his hair was a tangled mess. Ben was the type of person to make you feel unproductive and gross. He smelled immaculate, his hair always long but perfect- smooth and shiny. At one point you went to him for hair advice. He was consistently 15 minutes early for everything, always well rested and read. He prepared for anything and everything.

But right now, Ben looked uneasy- he never looked uneasy. And that terrified you.

“Ben- I’m serious-“

“And so am I. You’re not being honest-“

“Neither are you!” You shout, standing up from your bed and walking towards him, “I don’t understand what you all think is going on.”

“Y/N-“ He cuts himself off, rubbing his chin and shaking his head, “You’re not yourself.”

“What do you mean I’m not myself? What the fuck does that even mean, Ben?”

“Y/N you know exactly what I’m talking about! For fucks sake!” You freeze and Ben stops, letting himself take a deep breath- clearly choosing his next words carefully. “Y/N, you don’t need to hide from me. I know.”

A sickening lurch in your stomach throws you off balance, the intense nausea overwhelming you. Any hint of saliva has vanished from you mouth, your breath caught in your throat as you gaze upon your older brother.

“Ben, I don’t-“

“Fuck, Y/N,are you really going to make me say it? Anakin told me. I know. You don’t have to hide and you could’ve told us for fuck’s sake!”

Ben pauses, his breath catching in his throat as he looks upon your face, your glossy eyes blazing with a newfound rage, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. Your fingernails dug into your palms so hard they were close to bleeding.

“A-Anakin told you?”

“Y/N, wait-“ Ben grabs your arm as you stomp towards the door, his eyes filled with concern, regret, and worry.

“Ben- let me fucking go. This was not Anakin’s place-“

“Y/N, he was fucking worried!” He pleads, his grip tightening on your arm.

“And I don’t give a fuck, Ben! Now fucking let go of me!” You dig your nails into his arm, prompting him to let go.

The second he does, you’re out of there and down the stairs. You don’t even bother to put on shoes, your mind fuzzy with anger. You throw open the front door, your parents behind you watching, probably concerned. You let it slam behind you- hoping that it keeps them from following.

The rough, uneven stone path dug into your feet as you ran, each step jarring you up the driveway and into the side yard. You wiggle the rusty basement door, its cold metal chilling your fingers. Locked. Fuck, this wasn’t going to be pretty. But, alas, you turned the corner and walked to the garage.

Your hands trembled, fingers fumbling on the keypad; the button clicked, and the heavy door groaned open before you. You ducked under it, not even bothering to wait for it to fully open, and walked into the house. Shmi and Cliegg were never ones to say anything- this was typical for you and Ben to do. You turned the corner, the worn wooden banister cool beneath your hand, and ran up the creaking stairs, throwing open the study door to find Anakin exactly where you expected.

“Y/N!” He shot up from his textbook, a yellow pencil tucked behind his ear, “Are you okay? What are you-“

“Anakin, what the FUCK is your problem?” You shove him forward, his brows furrow and his hand grab both of your wrists, holding you in place in front of him.

“Y/N, what-“

“Anakin, how could you? I trusted you?” Your hands shake under his grasp, choked sobs escaping your lips while your eyes search his.

He bites his lip, his eyes fixated on you, a dull ache settling in his chest. At what he caused. His hand finds its way to your back, pulling you close as the sobs wrack your body, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the chill of your tears. You freeze under his touch- he told them. Everyone knows.

With a gasp, you shoved him back, a blur of motion, furiously wiping the tears that streamed down your face.

“Fuck you.”

“Y/N, I was just trying to help-“

“Trying to help? Trying to help, huh? Do you really think I’m that fucking incapable? That I can’t tell my own family and friends what happened? No, you had to do it fucking for me! I fucking hate you.”

“Y/N, you don’t mean-“

“Anakin! Will you shut the fuck up-“

“No!” he yelled, his fingers digging into your wrists as he pulled you back. You knew he was seeing red- and you knew he cared. But by god you’d be lying if you said you weren’t terrified at that moment.

“Y/N, you need to shut the fuck up. I know you. You weren’t going to tell anyone and you were going to let it tear you up inside until you were a fucking shell of yourself. You need help- you do. Everyone fucking knows it- and not just cause of me! Yes, I told Ben and Ahsoka, but I’m not sorry. I only care about you.” His grip loosens on your wrist as he searches your red eyes for something.

Your hand swiftly meets his cheek. It stings upon impact and he gasps.

“Fuck you, Anakin. You’re dead to me.”

———————————————

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