#mention of Diner!Luke | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lightwise · 3 months ago

Text

The Sun Also Burns

gifs by @amiracleilluminated. Dividers by @dystopicjumpsuit

Come get your (very) late dinner with a side of Jod Juice. 'Tis very long, so read on AO3 here if you prefer.

Jod Na Nawood/Original Character. Character Study, Post-Finale, Canon compliant.

Words: 8,792

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Here be smut, your friendly neighborhood star wars pirate, we could fix him but it's better if he fixes himself, emotional angst, emotional sex, PinV (wrap it up kids), oral sex, vaginal sex, hurt/comfort/and then hurt again, light hand on the neck/choking mention, past character death referenced, kidnapping mentions, swearing/foul language, emotional baggage, Jod has spent his whole life running and he doesn't know how to stop now, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mutual pining, oh and did I mention the emotions

Summary: Jod managed to escape the Supervisor’s tower, his choices and life path now open before him. But he can’t escape his past, his demons–or an unexpected reunion. Will he finally grasp onto the pinpricks of light trying to break through his darkness? Or will he make another trip around the void he’s been circling before he’s willing to change his ways?

Notes: This came to me in a dream. Literally.

Well, the diner scene did. Everything else is just an attempt to justify the ever expanding black hole labeled “Jod” that Jude Law (bless that man) and Skeleton Crew (bless everyone involved in this show) have introduced to my brain.

Also, the belt buckle took on a life of its own before I went back and realized that Jod doesn’t have it in the first episode. I can’t tell if it was Rennod’s or someone else’s, but regardless, I put too much work into certain headcanons to change them now 😅. Fun fact though, everything else toward the end of this fic is actually canon (check out the book Choose Your Destiny: A Luke and Leia Adventure), and I was thrilled that my character and Jod ended up slotting in perfectly.

You sighed as you picked up a napkin and wiped your mouth carefully at the corners. The clinking of silverware and buzzing of the overhead lights created a low level hum in the background, just enough to make a conversation feel private without having to yell across the melamine tables. The neighborhood diner had been the first place to reopen after the chaos on At Attin that evening, after a rerouted electric track was restored down the block.

It seemed like a fairly dull but cozy place on the best of days, but now it was jam packed with server droids, neighbors gathering around in gossiping circles, and the sizzling of frypans serving up every fried food imaginable.

Everyone was famished for both food and community after the once-in-their-lifetimes excitement of a pirate invasion, the destruction of the Barrier that had kept their planet hidden for centuries, and the arrival of New Republic X-Wings in its stead. The place remained packed even as the hours dragged on into the early morning. The saviors of the day—Wim, Fern, KB, and Neel, along with their parents—had made their rounds earlier, but had since gone home. The kids' faces were alight with excitement and pride, neighbors and Republic pilots alike shaking their hands and clapping them on the back.

You knew there would be no sleep for them tonight, no matter how dedicated their parents were at herding them home after one too many yawns had split their faces. A small, nostalgic smile appeared on your own, hidden behind the smooth white barrier of the napkin. Oh to be young and full of unbridled optimism again. You hoped that they never outgrew it.

A deliberate cough from the man sitting across from you broke through your thoughts, prompting an irritated eye roll in response. He was the exact opposite of what you hoped for those kids—the pirate currently in your custody had lost his last ounce of innocence long ago, if he ever had any in the first place.

Handcuffed, hemmed in on each side by an imposing security droid, with one of the fighter pilots standing behind the booth waiting for your release, he still exuded a sense of boyish arrogance that you begrudgingly admired. He was practically lounging, for Force’s sake, his legs spread, the tails of his army green coat draping casually around his thighs and over the plasticine bench.

Jod’s face was arranged in an adequately contrite frown, but you knew him better than that. Forcing your eyes back onto your plate, you scooped up another bite of hashed potatoes into your mouth. You just wanted sustenance to fuel what was sure to be a long ride back to the embassy. Dealing with this perpetually scheming bastard had not been on your radar for tonight.

“Sooo…” his lilting voice drifted across the table. “How have you been?”

You barely restrained a scoff. “You are seriously not trying to do small talk right now.” Lifting your gaze, you saw that he had steepled his fingers together (as best he could with the chains hampering his wrists), elbows laying claim to the table and his head cocked slightly to the right. The classic Jod smirk just barely stretched the corners of his mouth.

“Isn’t that what two old friends are supposed to do when they have a chance to…how do they call it? Catch up with each other?” His eyes gleamed, though not with sincerity. Beneath the charming veneer and polite cooperation, the desperate calculations of a man who was caught, but had not surrendered, were whirring in the shadowed lines of his face.

“We are not catching up,” you frowned at him. “Your actions have caught up with you, and you alone.” You swallowed the last bite and scraped the fork harshly across the edge of your plate, hoping it would make him flinch. It didn’t.

“And of course,” you continued, exaggerating the disappointment lacing your words, “once again, Kh’ymm and I have to pick up the pieces of the chaos you unleash.” You slid your plate to the edge of the table as a server droid passed by, not bothering to turn your head.

“I really should be charging you a transport and protection fee every time I have to drag your sorry ass across the galaxy. Add on the multiple bounties on your head, and now charges of abduction and endangerment of children? Not to mention trying to take over an entire planet??” You clicked your tongue like an angry mother kroop bird.

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

His answering laugh built on itself until the smirk spread through his cheeks and crinkled the corners of his eyes. The energy rolling off of him felt frayed around the edges.

“Ahh, still as passionately eloquent as ever, my dear.” Despite yourself, your heart gave a faint clench at his choice of endearment. “I truly must have caused quite the stir if you came out all this way to deal with me personally.”

“That was not a compliment.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Well, that’s true for one of us then,” he winked back. “You’ve got yourself a fancier gig than I realized. They must put a lot of trust in you.”

You ignored the slight ache in your chest. The attempted banter and familiarity threatened to spark memories that were best left untouched. Ones you thought you had left rotting in a corner, like a pirate’s forgotten carcass, speared through the heart, buried alive. Never to be seen again.

“Have you really been this bored? Trying to rack up a sheet that rivals Gorian Shard?”

He shook his head slightly, the thin smile still stretching across his face, eyes sweeping over every inch of yours.

“Or have you truly become something this cruel?”

The smirk vanished instantly. His mouth drooped, eyes gleaming still, but this time with something brittle, bitter, and desperate.

“That’s not…ugh…I didn’t…” he trailed off in frustration, silently begging you to understand.

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

You studied him silently for a moment before scooting sideways off the bench and rising to your feet.

“You never do.”

A flicker of anguish overtook the pirate’s face as you nodded at the pilot to take him away. The crack in the facade almost gave you pause, but the glint of sincerity was lost as his usual mask slammed back into place.

“No, no, no, wait! I can explain…”

The droids grabbed his arms and hauled him roughly to his feet as the pilot began to maneuver them towards the door.

“I had to see if the legends were true! And I needed the credits…my crew needed the credits. We didn’t mean any harm…agh!”

One of the droids clamped onto his arm, shutting him up for a brief moment. The five of you made your way out of the crowded diner, the smell of hot caf fading into crisp night air. Only the soft sound of chirping crunch bugs interrupted your measured footsteps.

The Corellian embassy corvette you had arrived in loomed ahead. The August Prime, while not officially yours, had become somewhat of a home the last few years. She was a little weather beaten from the war, but a new coat of paint and the occasional tune up had made her quite serviceable for emissary trips, and both Chancellor Mothma and Senator Leia Organa had made sure that it was available whenever you were called upon to represent the New Republic (and by extension, them) across the galaxy.

Your career (you were still surprised it could be called that at this point) had started when you were young, taking whatever jobs you could find in order to survive. You quickly found that you had a knack for translation, bargaining, and brokering deals, and you made a name for yourself as a reputable goods and antiquities dealer–serving a rather diverse client base, as you liked to put it. You were nowhere near the league of legendary dealers in the Core Worlds like Luthen Rael, but your willingness to work with anyone who would abide by guild laws gave you a wide variety of contacts.

After the war, you had transitioned into being an ambassador for the New Republic, serving as a liaison between the fledgling government and the thousands of planets it sought to rebuild. In your previous life, you had often joked that you were far too addicted to a hot shower to indulge in a true pirate’s lifestyle, but really your morals were a touch too scrupulous to ever let yourself linger in filth for too long. That fact, along with your connections to pirates and politicians alike–and every class in between–made you an invaluable representative.

Sometimes a true friendship sprang up along the way, like the one you developed with the owl-ish navigational wizard, Kh’ymm. Occasionally, you found something a little more than just friendship.

And once or twice, a lot more, if you were honest with yourself.

Which explained the current tension running like a live wire between you and the slightly cowed, but unbroken man in front of you. The droids were heading toward the August’s boarding ramp, and you could tell by the tilt of the closely-cropped head in between them that the pirate was staring quizzically into the dark hold, as though hoping the fate that awaited him on board that vessel would suddenly blink, and miss him.

Your stomach gave an unexpected churn. You had to see his face again.

“Jod.” It came out as a whisper.

He stopped completely, limbs rigid, back straight. The droids were forced to stop with him.

It was the first time you had said his name aloud in years.

Willing your legs to move again, you circled until you were facing the man you had once given a piece of your heart. Or had he stolen it? You were never quite sure. All you knew was that ultimately, what he truly treasured had never been you.

“I know you’ve seen the inside of prison cell after prison cell.” Your voice was low as you reached out your hand and cupped the side of his face gently in your palm.

“Until you’re free of the one in here,” you tapped your finger slowly against his temple, “nothing is ever going to change.”

His eyes grew wide and heartbreakingly solemn. You couldn’t miss the tremor in his throat, nor the subtle lean he made into your hand.

As his lips parted, you almost held your breath. But no sound came out. After a moment of those storm-colored eyes staring straight into your soul, you let go and reluctantly moved up the gangway. You didn’t look back.

******

An hour later, you were finally back in your quarters and slumped wearily in a chair. After debriefing your captain and copilot, recording a quick message to send to Mon’s secretary ahead of your arrival, and signing off on the path back to Coruscant the ship would take in the morning, you had beelined straight for your suite and locked the door behind you.

Glancing at your desk, you caught sight of your daily log laying haphazardly in the corner, neglected after the unexpected distress call from Kh’ymm had come in. You couldn’t believe she hadn’t told you that Jod had shown up on her doorstep several weeks before, and with four bedraggled children in tow. There hadn’t been time to argue about that, however. Having heard from one of the children–KB, you believed it was–that a group of pirates had both found and infiltrated At Attin, an old Republic mint most people in living memory had never even heard of, it was clear that a squadron had to be sent, and quickly. A call to Leia and an emergency page alert to Mon, and you had been reassigned and on your way, though you hung back a little from the fighters to give them room to do their jobs. The August Prime had quite a few turbo lasers on her, but you had no interest in serving as a blockade runner unless it was necessary.

When you showed up to one (large, but still outmanned and outgunned) pirate frigate, a population who had never seen an X-Wing before (or stars, for that matter, as you later found out that evening), and a suspiciously familiar pirate captain who was nowhere to be found, you wanted to adopt the pirate code and throw someone–preferably him–out of an airlock.

Although the battle itself was short lived, you were wholly unprepared for the chaos that followed. At first intending to remain on the planet to establish ties to the administration there, you quickly realized that the myth behind the lost planet of At Attin, versus the reality of the sequestered population having lived their lives under the control of a well meaning, but automated central computer system, was going to require more effort than anticipated.

After talking with Undersecretary Fara, whose daughter Fern was one of the children involved in this debacle, you decided to deal with the meddling pirates first, report back to Coruscant with a sample of the solid gold credits At Attin had been sequestering all these years, and then return with a few colleagues to establish further relations. You had a feeling you might even be bringing Fara and Fern with you on one of your trips–Fern’s inquisitive nature and brash confidence reminded you of yourself, at that age. You were interested to see what some encouragement might do for the girl’s prospects, along with the other kids, as well. You had noticed Wim almost jumping out of his skin with excitement when talking to one of your fighter pilots, while Neel just seemed to be relieved to be back with his siblings and parents on solid ground.

KB, for her part, had explained to you in less than two minutes the elaborate systems that powered the money making machine at the core of the planet. A mere fraction of the wealth found in those vaults now lay on your desk, the pile of gold dataries glittering in the low lamp light. After her explanation, you had asked to be taken down into the vaults in order to collect a small sample you could bring to the Senate for inspection.

While leaning over the platform, the two of you waiting for the service droids to return with the chest you had provided, KB had suddenly gasped, her visor flipping down as she spotted movement further along one of the air shafts. A series of shouts floated down to both of you as a scuffle took place. It looked like some of your guards had caught another intruder.

“It’s him.” Her voice was soft and quiet. Almost disappointed.

“Who?” You turned to the slim girl, wondering at the change in her demeanor.

“The man who helped us…and then betrayed us.” Her shoulders slumped a little. “The captain.”

Alarm bells were ringing in your head. KB hadn’t given a name, and there had been no designators on the frigate that caught your eye. But a slight tug in your gut warned you who you were about to face, even as one of your men reported over the comm.

“We captured the instigator, your excellence!”

You braced yourself as the platform rose back to the surface. It felt like an eternity, but really it was only a few moments before the somewhat pathetic excuse for a pirate–his grimy blue shirt and tattered coat snapping in the wind as he struggled–was thrust in front of you.

You raised your head slowly, the world tilting off-kilter as you came face to face with a soft smirk and a pair of intense blue eyes you had never expected to see again. The air between you shimmered with recognition.

******

Joints aching, you eased yourself up and toward the ‘fresher. There was no use in dwelling on the past now. Or the man currently chained up in the hold of this very ship. You stopped in front of the mirror and let out a low groan, grimacing at the strained lines that had etched into your forehead. You thought about washing off the grime of the last twelve hours, but you honestly weren’t sure you could stay upright much longer.

Deciding to forego a shower, you shuffled over to your bed and began changing into a set of night clothes. You had just started to relax when you heard a faint knock and then a scuffling noise at your door. Then another knock, slightly louder this time.

You groaned again. Who could possibly still be needing your attention at…well, you didn’t want to look at the chrono and find out.

Muttering several choice curses under your breath, you crossed the room and swiped the latch on the door, ready to chastise whoever stood on the other side. But the words died in your throat as it slid open.

The figure in front of you slipped through, silent as a shadow, punching the lock on the door as it closed behind him. A scarf obscured his face (had that been on him the whole time? you distantly wondered), but that didn’t stop every nerve in your body from screaming in recognition once more.

Before you could utter a sound, he pressed a gloved finger to your lips. That touch alone was enough to send tremors through your limbs, and he took advantage of your shock to push you slowly back across the room.

Your lips opened and closed helplessly, the cut of his coat brushing against you and the sway of his boots on the floor disintegrating any words that tried to make it past your throat. Even in the dim light, you could see his eyes twinkling with mischief like you remembered, two shining pinpricks in an otherwise dark galaxy.

And they were utterly fixated on the curve of your mouth.

Fuck.

He stopped a few feet from the patch of wall between your bed and your desk, breaths coming heavily as he tore the scarf down from his face. He stared straight through you, as though he was trying to decide exactly what it was that he wanted to do.

You couldn’t help yourself. Your eyes dropped to the chiseled edge of his mouth, remembering the insistent way those delicate, full lips used to drag against your own.

You gulped at the memory, and his gaze shifted to track down every inch of your throat.

Before you could blink he slammed you hard into the wall, hand grasping your jaw tight, lips crushing yours in a bruising kiss. They were warmer than you remembered.

A startled, but pleased moan made its way up your throat, and just as you began to feel lightheaded, he pulled back a few centimeters. A soft gasp escaped you as he changed course, his scruff brushing against your cheek as feather light kisses tracked down the side of your jaw, in sharp contrast to the ferocity with which he had just claimed your mouth. A pleasant hum began to settle in your blood.

You knew he had seen the chest of gold gleaming on your desk. You knew that nothing good could come of this. And yet this wasn’t just a distraction, wasn’t just another calculated ploy for him to find a way to escape. Against all odds, you knew that too.

Jod made his way back to your lips, letting just the tip of his tongue flick over you before he pulled back completely. You were stunned at how…open he looked, the lamp on your desk gently caressing the side of his face. There was no mask, no pretense in his gaze. Just a quiet, wistful seriousness that you had rarely seen before. A hint of boyish desperation, too.

“One last romp?” His voice was smooth, head cocked a little to the right in that endearingly smug way of his, but you could feel the tension strung like a wire underneath.

You shook your head, chuckling under your breath at his audacity. “You are crazy, Jod.”

He simply continued staring at you, one hand making its way to your waist and resting lightly on the jut of your hip bone, thumb beginning to draw slow circles.

You let out a huff of resignation, your fingertips trailing over the tight line of his jaw. “Only if you brought condoms.” You were only half joking.

Something like relief flashed across his face. “You know I always do,” he smirked in return.

You rolled your eyes at that. “The one thing you’re reliable for.”

A flicker of real hurt sparked in his eyes, simmering into frantic desperation. You could sense that something fragile underneath was screaming for his attention, even as he still couldn’t bear to let it have control.

“You really are…something, my dear,” he rasped, his nostrils flaring as frustration mixed with admiration.

Your eyes softened as they passed over his hardened features. He had aged since the last time you saw him, fine lines in places they hadn’t been before. Heavy shadows hung under his eyes, and his shortened hair was touched with grey. But the green and brown flecks that danced in his irises held the same warmth as always, glimmers of unspoken affection swirling you into their bright orbit.

“So are you.” And you meant it.

You surged forward, capturing his mouth for your own, needing to taste him. His muffled gasp curled over your wandering tongue as you asked for entrance, thrilling at the feeling of his fingertips scraping up the sides of your waist. Grasping the high collar of his coat, you tugged it sideways, trying and failing to pull it down his shoulders.

He chuckled at your sudden insistence, his tongue licking against yours. Lazily plundering the roof of your mouth, he awkwardly shifted one arm out of the fabric only to wrap it immediately around your waist, doing the same with the other as he let the rest of the coat fall.

Heat pooled in your belly as he pulled you tight against him, the familiar ridges of his Quarran forged belt buckle digging into your flesh. He had shoved his leather gloves into his pocket, leaving his rough, sensitive fingers free to trace mesmerizing patterns over your thighs and hips. It almost tickled through the fabric of your dressing gown.

Groaning as your teeth caught on his swollen lip, he reached lower and grabbed the backs of your thighs, dragging you roughly up the wall until he could wrap them around his waist. Taking a moment to adjust his stance, he pulled at the edge of your gown until it fell to the side, letting the tips of his fingers drag along your skin, all the way up to your breast. Your back arched in anticipation.

You felt the air punch out of your lungs at a sudden tilt of his hips, almost choking at the feeling of his half-hardened cock now pressing urgently against the warmth of you. He managed to graze his thumb across your nipple at the same time, and your jaw dropped as a jolt of electricity went straight to your cunt.

“You still like that, huh,” he gave you a cheeky grin.

“I’m surprised you remember,” you retorted, flushing as you tried to hide just how much it affected you.

“I remember everything,” he replied earnestly. Sweetly. “You know I don’t fuck around, unless I have to, or I want to.” His other hand shifted slightly to keep you in place, the one on your breast teasing light, reverent circles.

“And which one was I?” You breathed, struggling to keep your composure.

“Both.” His eyes bored into yours. “Always both.”

Your heart stuttered, and you traced one hand slowly up the subtle angles of his chest, letting your fingers tangle in the patch of hair that tumbled over his open shirt. Clasping the other tightly behind his neck, you tugged him back against you, and he groaned in satisfaction. The heat of his mouth against yours was the only thing you wanted to feel in that moment.

****** Jod couldn’t believe he was actually here, standing in your quarters, his belt unclasped and your legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

He had to choke down a maniacal laugh when he first saw your face on that platform.

Of course.

He knew that a CR90 had shown up after his frigate had been pummeled to the ground, had seen it appear in the newly dark sky as he escaped the Supervisor’s tower and made his way down to the vaults. But not on the wildest bet would he have considered that you might be inside.

He had hoped for a clean getaway. Salvage a few dataries, pick up whoever else had escaped, and hightail it to a distant port to nurse his latest defeat in a strong bottle or two. Carefully try to ignore the long-buried wound that Wim’s unexpected concern for him had prodded. It was the only way he had survived this long.

And then you had appeared in front of him, and that ache cracked open wider than an entire kriffing galaxy spinning in orbit.

There was nothing the universe loved more than reminding him of his failures.

Your hands were inching their way along his back, attempting to lift up the hem of the threadbare shirt he had pilfered off the floor of the Onyx Cinder. He knew what you wanted but he couldn’t bear to separate from you long enough to accommodate the motion.

He had almost forgotten how good you tasted. The room threatened to spin around him as he breathed in your warm scent, heard the familiar gasps in your throat, felt the delicate pull of your fingers. The taste of your lips was intoxicating, but he needed more.

He wanted to drown himself in you.

Reluctantly straightening, he bowed his shoulders to heft you higher under his arms, clicking his tongue in amusement as you tensed with the fear that he might drop you. Crossing the extra few feet to your bed, he carefully tilted you back on the mattress, one hand still greedily grasping at your waist as he scrambled to kick off his tall boots.

Normally pants and shirt would have followed too, and your hands had already reached for the hems again, but he was too impatient. He grabbed your wrists as they inched lower and pressed them together, fingers locking around the fragile bones. Pulling them up and crossing them over your chest, he held them gently in place, shaking his head in warning.

Your cheeks flushed with heat, and he relished in the way your eyelids fluttered as he lowered his gaze to your chest, slowly sweeping his other hand down until he came to the ties still holding your robe loosely together.

“On, or off?” His voice was gentle, interested. You nodded. “Off then.”

His hand moved quickly, unlacing the ties and brushing the garment aside. Releasing your wrists, he lowered his face until his nose dragged against your sternum, licking and sucking his way across your salty skin. His pebbled tongue scraped roughly over one nipple and you arched against him, your throat and chest gleaming in the lamp light. His cock twitched as your hips squirmed beneath him, and he laved over your nipple one more time before making his way down your stomach.

He could smell your arousal as he kissed along the groove of your hips, and he grinned at the sight of just how soaked you already were.

“All this for me?” He teased, eyes narrowing in amusement as he glanced up at you.

“I don’t think you need me to inflate that head of yours any further,” you quipped back, pretending to scowl as he carefully slid your underwear off your legs and onto the floor. You had missed this ridiculous banter.

“Oh, but I really think I do,” he winked, his smile fading as he closed his eyes and breathed you in. Head dipping, he kissed softly up your thigh until you were squirming, silently begging him to move closer.

Digging his fingers into your hip, he finally let his tongue take what it wanted, reaching out with just the tip to tease your folds before fully diving in. You were soaking wet, your lips slick and dripping onto his chin as he drank you in. Letting his tongue wander, he reached up and cupped a breast with one hand, the other holding your hip secure against the mattress.

Wonderful. You were wonderful. Your taste was so sweet and rich. You filled his palm perfectly. Memories began to trickle back, unbidden, as he pulled you even closer and dipped his tongue into your pussy just to feel you quiver. Days spent arguing over the worth of his latest finds, your smile smooth and eyes filled with a challenge that he could never back down from. Nights spent mapping each other’s bodies while spinning dreams of exploring the galaxy. Sitting side by side, hours whiled away but never wasted. One of the few gleams in an otherwise dim existence.

Suddenly he felt one of your hands curl over his head, brushing softly against his hair as you sought to anchor yourself in his presence. The motion was comforting at first, a slight tension in his scalp soothed by the tips of your cool fingers.

Until a jarringly recent memory launched a mutiny in his mind–the sensation of his head bowing under the cascade of a very different kind of lust earlier that evening.

The waterfall of credits. A room literally bursting with the golden light of limitless wealth. A life-long dream–no, need–finally come true.

He had the sickening feeling that after today, the pursuit of security he so ravenously clung to now felt more like an anchor that was dragging him down faster than any shipwreck. Shackles too thick for him to casually break, unlike the handcuffs he had disengaged twice already with a subtle flick of the Force.

No. No, no, NO. He shook his head in frustration, biting roughly down on your thigh in a futile attempt to disguise his own contradictions. He wasn’t just thirsty. He was hungry. He always had been, and here you were willingly satiating him, and he wanted it to be enough. Needed it to be enough. You deserved everything he had to give.

And everything he couldn’t.

Shifting your leg at the knee, he rutted his shoulders under you and lifted you to his face again, devouring you like the starving man he was. Your back arched, your hands clenching helplessly as your nerves trembled from his onslaught. He focused on your clit, easing one finger, and then two, into your warm depths as he sucked, feeling your hips buck against him like he knew they would.

He pulled you closer, ignoring the pulsing in his own groin, fingers relentless in the pursuit of your pleasure. He chased every twitch, every moan, feeling your walls tighten until finally, with a wrench of his knuckles, it was enough. He shivered as your taste flooded his mouth, gratified to hear the whimpers leaving your throat as he flattened his tongue and licked you clean.

He didn’t come up for air until he realized your hands were tugging at him, begging him to slow, the pressure now too much. Catching one of them in his, he gently kissed your knuckles in acknowledgment. The cool air shifted against his back as he disentangled himself, and it suddenly registered just how tight and uncomfortable his clothes had become. They were practically soaked through from his efforts. He gave you a quick smile and sat up, peeling off his shirt and pants haphazardly before crawling back over to you and flopping down with a sigh.

******

Still trying to catch your breath, you reached down and ran your hand lightly over him, admiring the view you had been craving since the moment he stepped through your door. His wiry, lithe frame had always held good muscle, and the curve of his ass against your palm was a comforting weight. He would never know just what the sight of him with his mouth buried between your legs meant to you.

Your lips pursed as your heartbeat began to slow. You hadn’t missed the earlier shift in his mood, but you decided not to question it. You just ached for him.

“Was anything on you actually yours? Besides the belt,” you gestured at the glint of his buckle half buried under the pile of clothes now strewn on the floor. His weapons had all been confiscated, but even those had been borrowed or stolen. “Oh, and your coat, of course.”

He paused for a moment, his lips tilting in a smirk. “Well, I would say this is,” he gestured down at his stiff, aching cock nestled against your thigh. “But I’m afraid that belongs to you at the moment.” Once the words left his mouth, he realized how little of a joke it actually was.

“Oh really?” You couldn’t help but laugh gently, and he looked almost relieved. “Well, that’s nice to know.”

Your fingers trailed lower, relishing the way he began to squirm as the back of your fingers brushed over his stomach, his hair, and lower until they finally whispered teasingly over his shaft. His jaw clenched, a half smile belying the slight shake of his head.

“Careful,” he rasped, eyes easing shut as you took him fully in hand. You rubbed your thumb gently over the velvet skin, humming a little as he curled into you, chasing the sensation. Pulling long, smooth strokes, you reacquainted yourself with his thickness, the veins running up the side, the way he curved as he hardened in your fist.

His jaw slackened a little as you picked up the pace, and you shifted yourself so that you could lean over and still look up at him. Pausing, you ran your knuckles lightly over him again and waited until he opened his eyes, and then slowly, you let your face hover over him, lips parting, until you felt him throb in anticipation. Gripping him tightly, you reached out your tongue and licked. First a quick swipe of his tip, and then letting your tongue circle his head, savoring his salty taste. You licked a wide, slow stripe up his shaft, and then welcomed him into the heat of your mouth with a rhythm of pumps and licks, a groan occasionally escaping him at the twists of your hand.

A glance caught him biting his lip, eyes half-lidded, and you smirked as you leaned down, mouth wide, and took him in as far as you could, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked. Your nose just barely brushed against the curls at his base.

“Hhhah, wait, wait,” he gasped, reaching down and fiercely gripping your chin to haul you up and off of him. His eyes were wild. Your teeth scraped against him in the process and you almost thought he would come right then and there.

He flipped you over, pulling you up to the top of the bed, and it was your turn to whimper at the feel of his teeth as he mouthed along your neck. Grabbing the packet he had set on your bedside table, he pulled away just long enough to sheath himself before crowding you with his hips. He kissed you deeply, reaching down and lining himself up to sink into you, slowly at first, and then all at once.

Every muscle thrummed at the stretch of him, and you closed your eyes as you felt your walls pulse, willing yourself to relax. It was almost overwhelming, the teasing pace he set, deliberately keeping you both at the edge. You moaned helplessly. There was something about him that could reach places in you that no one else could.

He closed his hand around your throat and your eyes flashed, the slight pressure on either side of your neck heightening every sense. You were so close.

“I need you to come on my cock”, he growled, almost breathless from the heat of you. “Need you…to…” his hips faltered for a moment. “Give me one more, pretty girl.”

You murmured something he couldn’t quite catch. He released your neck and moved his thumb to meticulously explore the curve of your collarbone, letting you both catch your breath.

“What was that?”

A small, teasing smile crept onto your face.

“Yes sir.” Your voice was light and airy.

His eyes widened comically, his hips stuttering with unexpected violence. That was…oh, that was…

Before he could muster any scrap of control, your hips snapped up in desperation to meet his, giving him room to slide one hand under your sacrum, fingers nestling in the indents on either side.

Your fingertips clung to the planes of his shoulders, traced the cage of his ribs in a plea no words could convey. He couldn’t leave you wanting.

“You can let go.” Your whispered release floated into his ear.

“I need you with me.”

Shoving one elbow down for support, he twisted his thumb over your clit, gathering your slick in calculated circles and pressing, begging you to follow him into the void, to yield to the burst of heat flaring down your spine.

Until with a few staggered gasps, you both fell over the edge in a pulsing surrender.

******

Once breath settled back into your lungs, you rolled over and reached for him across the tangle of sheets, your heart catching as he turned to you with a languid, peaceful smile.

“Sorry for the mess.”

‘I mean, there’s ways to deal with that.” Your eyes glinted with mischief. Flipping onto your stomach, you flicked your tongue over him and then moved to take him back into your mouth.

His hand flew to your head. “I wouldn’t do that…unless you want a repeat.”

You pulled off and gave him a sweetly innocent grin. “I have a perfectly good shower right there, if you’d prefer that instead.”

“Are you calling me dirty?” he scoffed.

You slid off the bed and sauntered through the room, pausing at the ‘fresher door. “Very,” you winked.

He groaned, head in his hands, before forcing himself up. A persuasive glint filled his eyes as he caught you by the waist and pulled you into the shower, muffling your laughter with determined lips.

******

You both collapsed back on your bed, cleaned off and utterly spent. You were shocked that you hadn’t fallen asleep standing up.

Jod wrapped himself around you, chin tucked against your shoulder, legs slotted between yours. You were savoring how the two of you fit together, limb against limb, and you let your hand wander up and down his back in a soothing sweep.

You were about to drift off when you remembered something you had been meaning to ask.

“So, how did you actually get up here? Don’t tell me I need to completely overhaul my security systems.” Your voice was thick with drowsiness.

He snorted. “I mean, I’m sure your crew is doing their best,” a flippant wave contradicting the sentiment until a yawn interrupted him. “But you seem to have forgotten that I’m quite capable of getting myself out of handcuffs when the situation requires.”

You slowly smiled. You had spent more than one night taking advantage of that fact in the past, though it apparently had slipped your mind since then.

“Guess I need to start hunting for some of those old repression binders that could keep Force users in line if this is going to become a regular occurrence.”

You knew it was a horrible joke before it even left your mouth, and you belatedly winced, holding your breath as Jod stilled beside you.

But his response was not the rebuke you expected.

“I…” he cleared his throat, his voice muffled against the side of your arm. “I told them…about Ninaa.”

You didn’t trust yourself to move. “Told who?”

He glanced up at you before burying his face in your chest. “The kids.”

He had been drunk, and very morose, the night he told you about the Jedi woman who had found him as a ragged child. He was begging on the streets, she was a survivor on the run. They were perfect for each other. Jod learned a little about his natural giftings from her, and they kept each other safe. Until they couldn’t.

“Told them how she died. What she taught me, the potential she saw in me”–he almost spit the word out of his mouth–”only for those bastards to use her own lightsaber to kill her in front of me.” His teeth ground in their sockets.

The children must have gotten deeper under his skin than you thought if he had unburdened that story on them.

“And then I threatened to do the same thing to them. As if I could convince myself that I could actually follow through on it.”

He exhaled a slow breath, his features cycling through emotion after another. And then, so quietly you weren’t sure the words hadn’t just appeared in your mind–

“Don’t give up on me just yet.”

The weight of his body on yours was suddenly crushing.

“I’ve never given up on you.” Your pulse raced. “Those kids haven’t either.”

His voice was measured, low. A steel knife dragged against the edge of a whetstone.

“Yeah they have. Just like everyone else.”

Before you could protest, he lifted his head, eyebrows raised. “I know you don’t trust me fully. Nor should you.” His mouth drooped in defeat.

Your lips parted but no sound escaped at first. Your hands trembled slightly.

“There’s always time to surprise them.” Surprise me.

He lowered his head in resignation.

“Maybe.” Someday.

You hesitantly swept your hand over his strained shoulders, wishing you could pierce through the shadows engulfing you both. Your voice was barely a whisper.

“You know those pinpricks of light you always talk about? The few good things in the galaxy that are so… sparse and unattainable.”

You waited. It was a long moment before he nodded, reluctantly.

“They only stay pinpricks when you keep running away from them. Up close…those stars are suns. They give light. Warmth. Life.”

His limbs tightened around you. His breathing was so shallow you almost thought he had fallen asleep.

“Yes.” The quiet hiss startled you.

“But the sun also burns.”

The night itself seemed to hold its breath at his admission. Your heart spasmed in your chest, frayed nerves bare and broken at the acknowledgement of the open wound seeping into the air between you.

The starved desires of a frightened child whose every grasp for the light left him shrouded in darkness. Fear of abandonment leaving ash on everything he touched.

The silent screams of a boy who had never been able to become the man he thought he would be.

The barrier on At Attin may have evaporated, but a different, more insidious fog swirled around the Force-sensitive pirate’s heart and mind, clouding him from your sight. All you could do was hold onto him, keep a sliver of hope for him shining like a beacon in the night sky.

Hope that one day, that light might become a flame that could illuminate rather than ignite and burn.

A gleam that wouldn’t cheapen into fools’ gold.

The moments warped around you, plasma slipping through a time-glass, until the man in your arms shifted slightly. His hands dug into your sides, lightly at first, and then gripping you like a vise. He leaned up, his eyes meeting yours in mute exhaustion, and pressed a slow, cautious, achingly tender kiss to your mouth.

You fell asleep to the imagined hum of a lightsaber, slashing and cutting as terrified screams filled the air, burning a hole in the hopes and dreams of the poor boy who carried its scars still.

******

Jod could still feel your lips on his as he stood in the doorway of your room, the gasps of laughter (and more) you had shared with him through the night echoing in his skull. It was early morning, the sun about to rise over the newly exposed plains on At Attin. He had to move if he was going to steal one of the RZ-1 interceptors docked on the hull of the ship and make his escape.

But he couldn’t stop staring at the one streak of light that trickled through the curtain onto your peaceful, sleeping face, framed by your loose hair and the sheet he had pulled carefully over your shoulder.

Slung under his arm was the chest full of credits that had been sitting on your desk. Face strained with regret, he turned one of the datary shards over in his palm. It was cold–hard–the sharpened edge firm and unyielding. Such a stark contrast to the softness of your body, the sunshine of your lips, the pliant way your curves filled his hands. He clenched his fist until the sting of the metal sent a jolt through his palm, blood beading in its wake.

He was itching to choose the warmth of you instead–to turn away for once from the blinding gleam of the forged gold pieces at his side–but he still couldn’t make himself do it. Not quite yet. He couldn’t shake off the darkness that surrounded him on a persistent, daily basis, and until he found a path through that haze, he couldn’t bear to shroud you in it too.

His jaw jutted forward, lips pursed in a scowl that threatened to slice the cool air.

No attachments. The one rule of the Jedi he had always been able to follow through on. Forget ‘em. That’s what he had told Wim when the boy was crying, scared and shaking from missing his parents. He recalled boasting like a mynocked fool that he had done just that.

He shook his head. Call him a fool if he ever found it within himself to forget Ninaa, or those damn kids–or you.

Especially you.

He pulled his scarf up over his face, double-checked that your blaster was still cocked at his hip, shut your door behind him, and left.

******

A beam of sunlight bursting at the seam of your eyelids finally woke you. Eyes screwed tight, you immediately buried your face in the cooling relief of your pillow, not caring whether you had slept past your alarm or not.

Until the memories of the previous night that led to why, exactly, you had turned off said alarm came rushing back, unbidden.

Your hand stretched out hesitantly, feeling along the mattress. You knew even before you opened your eyes.

He was gone.

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you reluctantly stretched your arms, spine, and neck in turn, and scanned the room.

You weren’t surprised that the chest of gold was gone from your desk. Nor even that one of your blasters had disappeared too (although it was a rather expensive antique, damn him).

What was surprising was what the missing pirate had left behind. In the middle of your desk, surrounded by a sea of papers, lay a small bag of coins–deliberately culled from the cache he had absconded with–the worn clasp from his belt, and a hastily scribbled note.

You picked that up first, willing your fingers not to shake.

You told me once to make my life the one I want to live.

I haven’t forgotten. I promise you, I will.

A hitched breath escaped you, turning into a laugh halfway through.

Promises were like breathing to him. But this was one you would try to believe.

Laying the letter down with a sigh, you picked up his buckle and ran your fingers over the familiar scuff marks. It had been years since you had first seen its plundered steel. A token of the meager threads that held a pirate’s humanity together.

Not that the buckle’s first owner had been human at all. Originally strapped around the waist of the Quarren upstart Kragan Gorr, it made its way into Jod’s hands during a scuffle in the Outer Rim, which you once called a nuisance, and would later call fate.

Visiting Kh’ymm and rather bored at the time, you had agreed to join Jod on a supply run when he picked up a distress signal near the Kiax Nebula. You learned the hard way that the one-eyed pirate Grox was running a grift to lure unsuspecting ships into the system, before stripping and selling them (and whatever cargo and crew they contained) to a group called the Tech Masters, who ruled the nearby planet of Trionax.

Jod had been intrigued by the rumors of ships going missing, tales of a hidden junkyard planet somewhere in the nebulae, and whispers about the loot Grox was accumulating. He never could resist a tall tale.

Convincing you that the scavenging possibilities would be worth the detour, Jod followed the signal until you found yourselves locked into a tractor beam. Predictably, the two of you were no match for the formidable Lasat, although you put up a dirty fight. Gruesomely efficient, with only Kragan and two others for backup, Grox had eventually shipped you off to Trionax alongside a rather banged up Corellian light freighter he had captured on the same trip.

Unbeknownst to everyone until you landed, the freighter was not unmanned. Inconvenient capture turned into a fateful rendezvous as you met the woman who would become your employer, role model, and friend. Why Senator Organa, her blond, innocent-faced twin, and their blue and silver astromech were wandering around in that part of space was beyond you, but you didn’t have time to question the situation.

Trionax had remained hidden for so long due to an artificial force field protecting the planet. After realizing your ships couldn’t take off even if you could sneak back on board, Leia was prepared to brashly try and force a way out of the situation. You had a feeling Luke both could and would back up her threats, but the Tech Masters had no patience for being patronized. Trying a different tack, you let Jod and Luke sweet talk their way into finding a communications panel, while you summoned every power of negotiation and a pocket translator you had to try and stall for them.

And it worked, Force knew how. Alerting the Empire to the planet’s location, you all managed to slip away in the chaos that unfolded as a Star Destroyer appeared in the atmosphere above.

Not, however, before Leia slipped you her comm number, muttering something about reaching out if you ever wanted to lend your impressive skills to a good cause.

That had been years ago, before the Empire fell.

You and Jod returned home in one piece, the stolen belt buckle the only memento of your unexpected adventure. But something had shifted in you, and bargaining your way through Jod’s whims was becoming less of a thrill, especially when capture and near death were involved.

While you stayed in touch for a while, the two of you drifted apart, Kh’ymm giving you updates on his expanding crew and latest escapades until even she lost contact with the man you had once dreamed of a future with. She was never willing to divulge why.

And now here you were. Headed back to Coruscant with gold left in your possession by the same pirate who had tried to steal the lot of it–twice. A trusted ambassador carrying news to your Chancellor of a planet that might as well be from another galaxy. Crafting the explanation you would owe your senator on how exactly one of your prisoners had managed to take a detour–again. Choices made, paths crossed, fates open.

And yet, you knew Leia would understand having a soft spot for handsome pirates who were nothing but trouble.

A sudden buzz from your comm pierced through your introspection, the flickering blue figure of your haggard-looking first mate appearing in front of you.

“Excuse me for waking you, but there’s been a disturbance. We believe one of the fighters took off a little while ago without authorization.”

You chuckled inwardly, rolling your eyes at the pirate’s predictability. You had known from the moment your security dragged him up the August Prime’s boarding ramp that he wouldn’t accept leaving the same way.

You held down the receiver to answer.

“It’s alright, I was already awake. Thanks for notifying me. I doubt there’s anything we can do at this point, but I’ll be right there.”

Jod’s penance would have to wait.

Prison had never really suited him, anyway.

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willowswiththorns · 11 months ago

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I’ve noticed a drought in Jess Mariano x readers. I’m not use to writing fics so I’ll do some head canons for now. As always if you have any suggestions, my commissions are open. Thank you for reading - Willow

Jess Mariano Drabble

First thing that needs to be stated is that Jess Mariano is a complex character, so I am breaking him down by a few seasons at a time.

Season 2 :

Meeting Jess in Stars Hallow will be an interesting and almost intense experience. You’d meet either at Luke’s, in high school, or in the bookstore.

If you meet at Luke’s, you’d catch his eye. He wouldn’t say anything, but he would subtly make his presence known. A good example would be him helping Luke for the first time by bringing over your plate of food/drink before abruptly leaving the diner.

Now if you both meet at the bookstore, you would most definitely get his attention. He’ll sneak past you a few times, trying to peak and see what books you were looking at before finally saying something regarding the book. Once the conversation starts, it’ll last a good while and end with him giving you a book recommendation before heading out. He’ll give you one little last glance back.

If first meet at high school, it’ll be the least amount of interaction. You’d be sitting beside him in the back row of class, zoning out and looking around until your eyes fall on him. Jess isn’t paying attention to the lesson either, he’s more invested in a small book he snuck into class . He’s so zoned into the book, he doesn’t notice you staring into him. It wasn’t until the bell rang that he’d look over for a second and notice you. He’d stare at you, a bit confused before he’d get up to walk away.

Now the second time you bump into him, he’d seem a bit more comfortable with you. You’d be sitting on a bench by the gazebo reading when you feel movement by the space beside you. “Hey “ is all he’d say at first before looking down at your book. “The Virgin Suicide? That sounds interesting” he’d tease softly in his monotone voice. He’d then grab your book and take a look at the back “Jeez, this look depressing-“ he’d hand the book back and ask you your thoughts about it. You both would be talking about the plot about the book and how it was inspired by the author’s teenage babysitter. Needless to say you were both debating literature for a while.

After that quality time at the park, the chances of seeing Jess again is high. In fact, if he sees you around town, rest assured he’ll find his way over to you. He isn’t opened about his past with you, so deep talks are out the window. However, he’s open to chatting about day to day things in his life. Any conversation about your day to day life you’d notice how intently Jess listens in. He shows he listens to you, he even sometimes brings up small details you’ve mentioned briefly in conversation. The most you’ll hear if he talks is about his uncle or how the town’s people don’t like him that much except for maybe two girls, you and Rory.

You and Jess meet up a lot more after his trip to the Independence Inn wedding. However in most of his meet ups he seems a bit withdrawn, and you can’t help but wonder why. If you push for why a bit with Jess, he’ll grumble about how Rory kissed him. Needless to say the relationship gets a bit rocky from here, however if you comfort him well about the situation with Rory, he will come to you more about his feelings. Slowly but surely, you both become closer to each other, confiding to each other about each other’s past experiences. You open up to him about your living situation and lack of plans for the future, how you’re afraid of being alone but know staying with your parents past high school will only make you a financial burden onto them. He eventually opened up about how his dad wasn’t around, how his mom was unreliable and dumped him off to his uncle as soon as she couldn’t handle him anymore.

Season 3 :

The summer between you two is nothing short of amazing. He’s practically glued to your hip, and it’s a bit of gossip for the town of you both potentially dating. However neither you nor Jess has confessed any romantic feelings to each other, so the rumors were just that. You’d be found either at Luke’s with Jess, or Jess would be spotted sneaking up into your room to spend time with you. Lying down on his bed, you listened to Jess reading Howl by Allen Ginsburg out loud. He’s only holding the paperback with one hand while his other was in your hair, slowly letting his fingers scratch gently at your scalp. “ The wage they pay us is too low to live on. Tragedy reduced the numbers. This for the poor shepherds- Y/n?“ he’d only pause once he’d realized your usual commentary was replaced with soft almost quiet snores. With a sign, he’d put the book on his nightstand and got more comfortable so he can join you in your little nap.

Your feelings regarding Jess definitely have grown over the summer together, sadly it wasn’t too long before he was caught making out with the girl from your science class, Shane. He was still around more and still having the habits of cuddling in bed reading with you or looking at records together at a store, it’s just sometimes Shane would invite herself. Shane was always very touchy and flirty with Jess, but she was never really heinous to you. The only time she’d show agitation with you is if she wants alone time with Jess and even then you’d find Jess sneaking into your room later that night to see you.

With your now duo becoming a trio, you had gotten to get to know Shane more and actually got along with her well. She offers you any hair tips and tricks since she works at the Beauty Supply. Other than the awkward times where both Jess and Shane would have awkward acts of PDA in the most random places, being able to hang out with them is a pleasant experience.

Once Rory comes back to town it becomes a bit more tense of an environment. Even though Shane doesn’t notice Jess using her to make Rory jealous, you notice almost right away. Trying to talk to Jess about the situation only makes him mad and shut down completely with you, so much so that you don’t accompany him and Shane to the 24 hour dance. You find out rather quickly that shit hits the fan when you see a crying Shane at your door, explaining everything that went down. After comforting her and walking her home, you decide to stop by Luke’s only to find that Jess isn’t home. Luke mentions that he’d pass the word to Jess that you stopped by. With that you head home.

Once Jess and Rory’s relationship became public, it has become clear that any free time would go to his new girlfriend. Seeing Jess occasionally is bittersweet, the most he’d do when seeing you around town is use the free hand that’s not wrapped around Rory to wave to you. It isn’t until one night he comes to you all frustrated, not telling you what’s happening to make him upset. He doesn’t really open up until a few hours later into the night after you get him in a more comfortable spot. Everything about his life that’s bugging him, Rory and his love life, flunking out of school, bumping into his father for the first time, and the town hating him are all reasons as to why he’s upset. It wasn’t until you slowly tried to hug him that he looked at you. Jess isn’t the type of guy to cry in front of anyone, but just looking him in the eye you can tell he’s exhausted. Grabbing his hand, you slowly dragged him into bed, making sure he took his shoes off before putting the blankets on the both of you. “You don’t need to do this, this was a mistake-“ You smiled and shushed him , curling up next to him. “ Shut up and sleep. Goodnight Jess” As you slowly drifted off to sleep, you hear him whisper a goodnight to you.

When you wake up, the bed is empty. There was no trace of him still being in your room. A little bit of panic hits you as you get up and grab your phone to dial to Luke’s. Luke picks up and when you ask if Jess made it home safely, he hesitant to answer. After a little bit of pushing, Luke tells you that Jess skipped town.

Season 4 :

It’s been a long while since you’ve seen Jess, but the memories of him still stick with you. The most memorable thing is that last night between the two of you. How he let you curled up against him and how his arms slowly wrapped up around your body. Your parents are concerned about how you lock yourself in your room unless you have to go to work. They force you to get out the house for the festivities in town. The ghost of him lingers everywhere you go, it’s a shock when you see a glimpse of Jess at one of the town’s festivals. You see him chase after Rory and you can’t help but feel your heart swell. With slowly steps, you go to Jess’s car as you see him quickly run from Rory to his car to drive away.

Jess almost hits you on his way out of town. His brain has sent him reeling so much over the fact that he confessed to Rory that he almost hits you. Seeing you in front of his car with the look of pure fear and heartbreak in your eyes fills his chest with guilt and dread. He never truly said goodbye to you, but he wasn’t never the best at goodbyes. Not being able to handle any more heartbreak, he turned his car around you so he could speed away.

At this point the thought of Jess sends feelings of loneliness strike through you. He’s a runner from all his responsibilities, not thinking about who he hurts. All the times you both spent together just for him to leave not once but twice without even uttering a goodbye to you.

One morning eating at Luke’s, an older woman comes in asking if Luke was around. Since your mouth was full of fries, you pointed at Luke talking to Lorelai. With in a matter of seconds Luke pulls this mystery woman to the kitchen to bicker and argue before the woman walks off upstairs.

After a few days of ease-dropping, you find out that the mystery woman Luke was arguing about was actually his sister, Jess’s mother. She and her fiance, TJ, were planning their renaissance wedding in the town’s square. After one day of eating at Luke’s and looking at some jewelry that Liz had out for sale, she asks about who you were. Smiling, you explain how you eat here regularly and was actually a friend of Jess. Liz’s smile beamed bright as she’d grab your arm “ You should come to TJ and My’s wedding! I’m sure Jess would love to see you there!” You smile and look down at your shoes before awkwardly answering with a small, “I don’t think he’ll want to see me-“ Shed cut you off “ Nonsense! Please come, me and TJ would love for you to join us!” With a small sign, you agreed to come.

The day of the wedding was delightful to say the least. You asked Mrs Patty if she had any renaissance themed clothes you could wear to the wedding, and she brought out a very pretty gown she had in her costume closet she has for her dancers. The town square was filled with people in costumes, you’d fit in just fine. Finding a place to sit was a bit difficult, but a man who claimed to be TJ’s brother let you sit up a row in front of Luke and Lorelai. “Lorelai you look amazing!” You’d say, spin around to talk to the woman behind you. She’d show a beautiful smile and reply back “thanks hon! You look great too! I think I actually sewed that up for one of Mrs Patty’s recitals last year-“ you let out a little chuckle “ I guess I got busted, yeah I borrowed it from Patty” you both chat a bit more until you see Jess walk down the isle. Your eyes met before you’d force yourself to look away. As Liz and TJ got to the alter, Jess takes a seat next to you. You can feel his gaze dig into the side of your face as you try to keep your eyes on the ceremony. After the wedding, you do your best to keep your distance from Jess. It’s better to just be away from him rather than let him hurt you by leaving unannounced again. When the after party ends, you’re quick to make your way home, reminding yourself to just drop off the dress to Patty tomorrow morning.

As you’re making your way over the bridge you hear Jess call out to you. You try to speed walk more but to no avail, you feel a strong hand grip your wrist and pulled you towards him. “ Jess-“ you’d cry out in shock as he holds you close. Looking up, you can see the anguish in his eyes, his face trying to not be too expressive as he tries to find out what to say. “ y/n….I” you try to pull away but he doesn’t budge. “ I know I left and I’m sorry. I miss you, and I love you…” you shake your head “ you can’t just come back after leaving me twice and god!” You push him away “ you can’t just say you love me!” Tears slowly started to form as you try to walk away again, him tailing close behind. “ I’m different now! I know you couldn’t count on me before but you can now! It’s different I promise. We can leave together, right now! “ You stop your walk and turn to him. “ what’re you talking about? “ he’d grab your hands and get closer to you. “Let’s go. We can leave this town and be together. We don’t need to stay here y/n. Please, you can count on me now I promise.” The both of you stand awkwardly on the bridge now, not sure what to do. You stand there for a minute and ponder your choices. You can either say no and go back to your home or you can say yes and run away with the man you fell in love with years ago.

You look away and let go of his hands. “ Jess I…” you started but Jess sighs “ forget it. It was stupid to ask…” with a turn, he starts to walk away. “Wait! Jess- “ you yelled out again. “ what?” He asked, stopping abruptly and turning back to you. “ I thought about it… with my work and my family I should say no.” The look of rejection plastered on his face. You let out a weak laugh, tears now streaming down your face as you finished.

“But I love you too, and I’d be a fool to let you leave me again. Help me pack?”

Season 6 :

You both have had your ups and downs these past few months. Jess rooms with a few guys he works with up in a Philadelphia bookshop, meanwhile you’ve saved up enough for a cute little apartment from the two jobs you’ve been working at nonstop since you ran away. Jess usually spends the night at the bookstore, but when you’re both off he prefers to stay at your studio apartment.

Tonight you were celebrating the release of Jess’s first book. He has it set up and ready to sell to the public, but for tonight he’s all yours. He’d let out a low chuckle as you’d wrap your arms around his waist, kissing up his neck before hiding your face. “ Congratulations honey~” you’d whisper softly, your breath tickling his neck. His hands slowly play with your hair as he uses his free hand to take a sip of his champagne. “ thank you.” He whispered back, turning his head to you so he could place a little kiss on your head.

Day of the book being released to the public was a very hectic one to say the least. The room that was usually quiet and empty was now packed with people. Jess stayed close to you as he talked to customers, his hand gently on the small of your back. The smile on his face grew as he saw Luke and his niece, April enter the store. You both immediately go to the pair and greet them. Luke giving both you and Jess a strong hug. The conversation was pleasant as you mostly just listened to the three talk amongst themselves. Another familiar face meets your vision and you tense up a little. Jess feels you tense up and follows your stare to see none other than Rory Gilmore. She smiles and says hi to you both, and you let out a small hi before looking at the ground. Everyone resumes talking as you zone out.

After Luke and April wave goodbye and head out, so did many other customers as the store was getting ready to close. You and a few of the guys who also own the place start cleaning up as Rory and Jess talk. You do your best to not listen to their conversation, but curiosity consumed you. Their conversation was pretty tame for the most part, but something in you can sense that Rory misses Jess in some ways. As you see her lean in for a kiss, Jess stops her and gets up. He wishes her a safe trip home and gives her a small hug before walking over to you, his hand grabbing yours as he walked Rory out with you.

When Rory left, you looked up at Jess with worried eyes. You trusted Jess completely and have been through everything with him, but some part of you feared he might still have friends with Rory. It seemed Jess could read that off your expression almost instantly and tried to reassure you. “ You know I love you and only you, right?” He’d ask you, his hand slowly moving to be around your waist. You’d give a small nod, looking away. You hated how easily he could read you now. A small smile would form on his face as he’d move you to face him. “ She’s my friend and that’s it. I promise. I love you y/n. “ he’d tell you before slowly leaning in to kiss your lips.

AYITL :

It’s been years now, the both of you have already tied the knot and been together for nearly a decade now. You both agreed to get married, but not have a big reception like everyone else. In fact, the people who came to watch you and Jess get married was Jess’s family. Now you both live together in a nice apartment, enjoying the married life. Jess is working on his book and overall working on his self improvement more, meanwhile you are working your dream job and helping Jess out with his new book he’s writing.

When Jess mentions heading back to the small town you both met at, you were a bit nervous. You hadn’t seen your family since the night you ran away with Jess. Sometimes you wondered how they were doing, if you leaving ever really hurt them in some way. Dread and guilt hit you like a freight train at the thought. There was only one time you tried to call your parents during the first few months after you ran away, and even then hearing them pick up and ask who was calling scared you so much, you hung up almost instantly. Jess had to hold you that night as you cried. The memory alone made you feel sick, however you know going with Jess was the right approach.

Entering Stars Hallow sent you back to the time you were a young teen. It was like the town has barely changed, and by the look in Jess’s face, he seemed to feel the same. After parking the truck, you both walked up into Luke’s Diner. Luke looked a little older now, but he seemed the same as the many years before. The older man was quick to come and hug you both, welcoming you in for food. You watched the both of them talk for a bit before spotting your mom walking into the diner. Your eyes met hers as she stood there in shock to see you. The fear of her hating you for running away without a goodbye flooded back. “ Mom-“ You were cut short by your mom running over to hug you tightly. Both Jess and Luke seemed a bit tense, watching the scene unfold. “ I’m so sorry.. leaving the way I did. I know you probably don’t forgive me for leaving. I’m sorry” Tears started to well up as you apologized. “ I’m sorry for leaving you and Dad, I just didn’t know how to tell you-“ Your mom shushes you gently and doesn’t let go. “ You don’t have to apologize. It’s okay, Jess reached out a few years ago in your behalf and kept us updated. We’re just happy you’re happy honey.”

After that nice encounter, it felt like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You let Jess go to the gazette to visit Rory as you talked to your mother some more. The idea of Jess and Rory use to plague your mind of worry, however Jess has done nothing but be loyal to you so the fear overtime vanished. You showed your mother the wedding ring you have and smiled. For the rest of the day, you spent time with your family, you did have a decade of time to catch up on with them.

Later that night you came to Luke’s upper apartment to sleep. Luke moved into the Gilmore house a few years ago, so he loans out the upper apartment for you and Jess to stay In whenever you both were in town. Yawning, you kicked off your shoes and stripped off your clothes so you could change into your pajamas. Jess came out of the bathroom, stretching as he watched you change. “ How did I get so lucky to have you?” He’d ask, walking over to you and kissing your neck. The feeling of his lips on your skin makes you shutter slightly, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. “ Hmmm I don’t know babe~” you’d tease playfully and in red he’d let out a fake gasp of shock to play along. The kisses up your neck and jawline didn’t halt however, he was just getting started. “ God I love you so much “ he’d whisper in your ear before turning you to face him. You both locked eyes as pressed yourself against him. His eyes were filled with love and adoration for you. He is the love of your life, and you are the love of his life. With a loving smile, you kiss him on the lips. He tried to deepen the kiss, however you push him away for only a second. You only had one thing to tell him before you’d continue .

“ I love you too Jess.”

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

I hope you guys enjoyed this. I’m running on a few hours of sleep, so if the pacing or grammar is a bit off I’m so sorry. I tried to keep true to the timeline and add more details to it. I also wanted to add more information towards y’all’s character, but if you don’t like the family part I totally get it. Please let me know what y’all think in the comments. My commissions are open so let me know 🥰 thank you guys again for reading and supporting my writing. Have a wonderful day everyone! - Willow

#jess mariano #my work #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano imagine #gilmore girls #gilmore girls x reader

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rotworld · 3 months ago

Text

Where the Heart Was

once a year, you visit a memorial for a pack that no longer exists and mourn what could have been. this visit will not be like the others.

->sawyer/reader. contains grief/mourning, hurt/comfort, vague mentions of abuse and unspecified trauma, mentioned gore, murder.

You buy the bouquet before you leave town. Pink roses, white lilies and baby’s breath, cloying in your passenger seat. You used to wait until you got all the way to Quail Creek. You’d stop at that florist on the corner and fidget by the register with all your awkward smiles and survivor’s guilt, never quite making eye contact, never quite able to ignore the small town gawking from the old folks and teenage part timers watching you pass through like a haunting on repeat.

So now you buy it before you get there. Your car will smell soft and sad like a funeral for days after, but the pain stays private that way.

You get into Quail Creek late. Sunset smolders on the horizon and stretches shadows across a long, lonely road. Past the little diners and antique stores, the gas stations and highway ramps to other places, all the way out here at the very edge of town, there’s a memorial. The city never put up signs to help anyone find it but you know the way by heart.

Turn left onto the dirt road that peels away from town into dense woodland, the one that warns NO OUTLET on a yellow sign. Take it as far as it goes. There’s a circular patch of dirt at the end meant for u-turns, and a willow tree growing at the roadside. You park in its dappled shadow. The rest of this journey is made on foot. The path you take is not paved but worn into the earth by countless footsteps before yours, but the wildflowers steadily overtake it year by year. With the bouquet in your hand, you march the fading trail deep into the forest.

When the day comes that the forest swallows any trace of it, you’ll still know where to go. You remember what he said, exactly how he said it. Smiling softly, squeezing your hand, whispers in the dark:

“Follow the creek ‘till you see three big boulders all in a line. Go west from there, towards the evergreens. The trees are marked. You can feel them even if it’s too dark to see. Three slashes, diagonal, a small fourth slash on top. Eventually, you’ll get to the stepping stones and they’ll take you the rest of the way. Remember that, okay? You’ll reach the end of the stones and I’ll be there, waiting for you.”

The last light of day trickles between pine branches. The stepping stones are half-hidden in dry and dead leaves but you feel the difference between your shoes, spots of solid rock amongst grass and soil. The air is cool and the sky is dark by the time you reach the memorial. Echoes of things that used to be here linger, patches of flattened earth where buildings once stood and crops used to grow. In the middle of a clearing, a large stone juts from the ground. Unaltered from its natural, slightly rounded shape, it is etched with two sets of carvings. The same message, written twice.

On one side are runic symbols. Not Old Norse but something similar, a close cousin. On the other:

Here dwelt brave wolves and beloved ravens of the Yarrow Meadow pack. May ye frolick spring fields ever after.

Below that is a list of names.

You approach the stone with slow steps. Crouching beside it, you trail your fingers over the cold, bumpy surface. You have to use the light on your phone to find it, but it’s there. The left-most column. Bottom row. Luke is the name there, with the silhouette of a bird carved beside it. You trace the indents of the letters with your thumb.

“I’m here. I’m home,” you say, hoarse and quiet. You swallow hard, swiping your sleeve across your face. You told yourself you wouldn’t cry this time. “I know I’m late this year. Sorry. You know I’m good at finding excuses.” You tug the ribbon off the bouquet and dismantle it crudely, crumpling up the plastic and jamming it in your pocket. You place the flowers at the base of the stone. “I meant to come in the spring. Those rose bushes you told me about, they’re still here. They’re not blooming right now. It’s just a wall of thorns.”

It’s so quiet. There’s no one here but you and little things rustling in the underbrush. A squirrel chitters quietly on its way up a tree, returning to its nest for the night. The moon peeks through the clouds and you can just barely see the treeline like the bars of a cage.

“I can’t stay long. It’s dark and I don’t know these roads very well. Might need to sleep in the car for a few hours.” You don’t get up. You mean to. You try a few times but you never do, your hand still resting on the stone. “Why am I such a coward?” you whisper. “I don’t want to go back. But I will. I always do. It wouldn’t matter if I was brave now because it’s too late. I wish I’d…I wish…” You bite back a sob and scrub furiously at your burning, tear-filled eyes.

A branch snaps behind you.

You lurch to your feet and whirl around, eyes scanning the woods. That wasn’t some tiny twig breaking. It’s big, whatever it is, a bristling shape loping closer at a steady pace. It’s not a bear, is it? Your pulse hammers in your chest. You fumble with your phone, angling the lights towards it in the hopes of scaring it off or blinding it.

Open maw. Teeth bared. Glowing predator light for eyes. Your heart skips a beat. The thing makes an irritated noise, somewhere between a growl and a whine. Its ears flick back and it wrenches its eyes shut. No, that’s definitely not a bear but it’s almost as big. It’s a wolf, covered in jet black fur. If you hadn’t heard it coming, you definitely wouldn’t have spotted it in the dark.

It lets out a whiny bark, like a dog complaining about being stuck indoors. It shakes its head, swiping one of its front paws in front of its face. Then it does it again, growling. Annoyed, you think. It’s such a purposeful, distinctly human gesture, a wordless, “Turn that shit off.”

Not a regular wolf, you realize.

“Sorry!” you stammer, flicking the light off. Your stomach lurches in terror at the sudden darkness that fills your vision, the shadows seeming to squirm as your eyes adjust. You know the wolf is still there. It lets out a huff and pads closer, its movements suddenly obvious and easy to hear. You can just barely make out the shape of it, head raised and gait slow. Is it doing that on purpose, stepping on every single stick and crunching leaf so you know where it is? It comes very, very close, but it holds still when you flinch. Its eyes unnerve you, indistinguishable from the feral gaze of a wolf except for an uncanny sense of familiarity. Thinking, assessing, judging the world not quite you do, not quite like an animal does, but in a way that bridges the two.

“Are you…visiting the memorial?” you guess. It bobs its head emphatically in a nod. “I just finished. I’ll give you some privacy—”

It veers into your path when you step away. You move to the left and it follows. You shift your weight to the right and it does the same, mirroring your movements.

“Uh. Excuse me,” you say. You try to leave again. Your only warning is a growl before it lunges.

It happens so fast. The scream gets caught in your throat as the wolf comes barreling right into you, knocking you off your feet. Your heart is in your throat expecting to hit the ground hard, to feel teeth in your throat, but instead you fall into soft warmth. That’s fur against your back and beneath your fingers, velvety smooth. Your brain is still struggling to make sense of what happened, how it moved so fast that it could both topple you and break your fall, when the wolf shimmies out from under you. It’s such a smooth, graceful movement, angling its body so you slide gently into the grass. Its size is frighteningly apparent like this, golden eyes and open, panting maw angled down to study your bewildered expression. Its paws are easily the size of your hands, maybe larger. If you were standing, it would be eye-level with your chest.

Clearly, it doesn’t want you to leave so you stay put. You watch it snuffle around the base of the stone, snout nudging against the flowers you brought before it glances at you questioningly. You’re not sure what it wants or what it’s thinking, but suddenly it shivers and curls in on itself. It trembles, ears flat and tail tucked in, making choked sounds. Fur recedes unevenly. Limbs and digits lengthen with nauseating cracks as bone lurches and slides beneath rearranging muscle.

You avert your eyes, terrified. Is shifting supposed to take so long and sound so awful? Quick, canine panting turns to longer, deeper breaths. Now there’s a man crouched beside you, running a clawed hand through dark, messy hair. His eyes are still bright yellow and glinting like an animal’s when he glances at you in his periphery.

“Shouldn’t wander around here by yourself at night,” he says, hoarse and winded.

“Oh,” you say awkwardly. You try not to stare. He rakes his fingers through the fur on the nape of his neck, untangling a knot and dislodging a prickly seed pod. When you shift your legs under you, nervous and unsure of what to say, his gaze flicks back to you with magnetic speed. That look feels like a warning. You avert your eyes and tilt your head away from him, showing him your neck. Luke taught you that. Said it’d fix everything if a wild wolf ever looked angry.

To your shock and amazement, the man—the werewolf—relaxes the second you do it. For a moment, his eyes widen and his lips part in wordless surprise. All the tension and tautness in his posture evaporates. A soft, rhythmic rustling draws your gaze to the ground behind him where his tail has just started to wag slowly. Still, he’s looking at you a little too intently, his focus making you self-conscious. He looks like he’s waiting for something.

“Is, uh. Is it dangerous?” you ask, trying to break the ice. “I heard there are bears in the area but I’ve never seen one.”

He grunts. “They’re here. More of them now since the pack disbanded.” You hear more rustling, in front of you this time. He’s doing something with the plants at the base of the memorial. Plucking blades of grass, weaving them together. He catches you staring, huffing in quiet amusement when you quickly look away. “I don’t bite.” He spares you from trying to think of a response, picking up one of the flowers from the bouquet. “You brought these?”

“Yeah,” you say.

He glances at you but doesn’t say anything for a while. His eyes move down and up again, back to your face. He’s frowning. Did you say something wrong? Move too much? You can’t tell if he’s angry or if that’s just how his face looks. Luke said wild wolves can come across as a little intense without meaning to. “Would you like to use it?” he asks, his voice considerably softer.

“Use it?”

“Come.” He beckons you to him with a sharp nod. Reluctantly, you inch closer. “It’s what we do when we talk to the departed. You take pollen, or you grind up some petals, and you put it on their name. It honors them.”

Your chest feels tight. You come a little closer, kneeling right beside him. Your knees bump into his, an apology getting stuck in your throat when he stops you from pulling back with a hand on your thigh. It’s such a quick, automatic gesture, done without any shame or hesitation. He only lifts his hand when you stop squirming, watching you through his shaggy bangs. “Could you show me?” you ask. “It’s Luke. His name’s all the way on the left, down at the bottom.”

He’s giving you that look again. Brows furrowed, mouth pursed like he tasted something sour. His gaze rakes up and down again and you wonder what he’s looking for. After a moment, he nods. You watch him take the lily, rubbing the stamens between his fingers until they’re coated in fine, dark dust. He doesn’t need to look for Luke’s name, you notice. He knows right where it is, barely glancing at the stone before he rubs the spot once, twice, a third time, pressing the pad of his thumb into each letter.

“There,” he says. He rises gracefully to his feet, towering over you. He’s got long limbs, legs that bend a bit like a wolf’s, scars all over his body and—

You look away quickly. Yep, definitely naked. He walks around to the other side of the memorial and you hear him repeat the process. Crinkling petals, fingers whispering over stone. You stare at Luke’s name until your vision blurs with tears. The werewolf whispers something with hushed solemnity of a prayer. You hear him sigh softly and then he stands again, returning to your side. He sits in the grass beside you, staring again, not saying a word.

“Sorry, just…give me a minute,” you say.

“There’s no rush,” he assures you.

“What’s your name?”

“Sawyer.” He shifts closer. The fur on his arms is soft.

You sniffle, giving him your name. “Did you know somebody who lived here?” What a stupid question, you scold yourself. Obviously he did or he wouldn’t be here. But he just nods. Something moves across the forest floor right behind you and you jump, frightened until you realize it’s just his tail again. “I’ve never actually seen anyone else out here. I’m glad I’m not the only one. Some people—humans, anyway—they think it’s embarrassing. Knowing someone who joined a pack. Parents especially, they take it as some kind of judgement on their parenting. Sometimes it is.”

His frown deepens. “There’s nothing wrong with becoming a pack human.”

You laugh, which seems to startle him. His ears, still furred at the ends and more pointed than they should be, twitch. “Of course you’d say that.”

“I say that because it’s the truth. It’s not easy, and it’s not something just anyone can do. Pack humans are exceptional. Selfless and hardworking, stronger than any packless human could ever understand—”

“I know,” you interrupt gently. He looks almost embarrassed, sheepishly turning his gaze elsewhere. “You don’t have to convince me. I was never embarrassed of Luke. I actually…I’d promised him…” Your voice wavers. You clear your throat. “It doesn’t matter.”

Sawyer hums in acknowledgement. He reaches out, stroking the names at the bottom of the memorial. “You blame yourself for something you never could have prevented,” he says.

You shrug. “What makes you say that?”

“Because I did. For years.” He gets to his feet with that same eerie grace as before, a single fluid motion, and then he offers his hand. You hesitate to take it but he waits, unmoving and patient. When you finally reach for him, he makes a chuffing sound. Dog with a bone, you can’t help but think, a satisfied noise. “Let me walk you wherever you’re going.”

“I drove here,” you tell him, a little flustered. He’s still holding your hand.

“Do you live in Quail Creek?” When you shake your head, he huffs. “It’s late. You need rest.”

You tug your hand out of his grip. You’re torn between being touched by his concern and irritated at being lectured. “I won’t drive all night.”

“No, you won’t. Show me where you parked. Come.”

“I’m not a dog,” you complain.

He walks a few steps ahead of you before he suddenly drops down on all fours and shifts back into a wolf. It’s a much faster change this time and doesn’t leave him panting. He huffs, shakes his body, and looks back at you. He barks impatiently when you don’t start moving and trots back, shoving his cold nose into your knees.

“Alright, alright!” you sigh. Is this what sheep feel like when a herding dog snaps at their heels? Sawyer stays close the whole walk back, either behind you or right beside you. He growls at something in the dark twice, the sound making goosebumps rise on your arms, and hurries you along more insistently. “Well,” you tell him, fishing out your keys, “thank you for the escort. It was nice meeting you—”

He leaps inside the moment you open the door. You stare in disbelief at the sight of him padding around in a circle in your passenger seat, sniffing everything as he goes.

“Uh. Do you need a ride?” The only answer you get is a pawing motion. You don’t know what else to do, so you get in and start the car with a werewolf sitting next to you. You keep waiting for him to turn back and tell you where he’s going but he never does. He gets comfortable, sitting upright and tilting his head in a cute, dog-like way, examining whatever grabs his attention.

As strange as it is, it’s a quiet and peaceful drive. You turn on the radio very quietly, humming along under your breath. Sawyer is good company even when he doesn’t say a word. It’s reassuring to have someone with you and he’s endearing in wolf form, physically affectionate. He likes to rest his snout in your lap and lick your face at stoplights.

It doesn’t stop the trip from weighing on you. You get quieter, smile less, taking deep breaths as reality sinks in again. “You’re right. I do blame myself,” you say. Then you laugh, shaking your head. “Sorry, you don’t even know me and I’m just…”

Sawyer nudges against your shoulder. “Go on,” he seems to say.

“You can’t even talk back, I’m not—”

He does it again, nuzzling against you with the side of his face. He’s soft and warm, and his eyes are so big and sad, and the tears are coming all over again.

“We started talking about it all the way back in high school. We didn’t really get it back then. It was just a fantasy. LIfe was so painful. Anything, anywhere would’ve been better than where we were. We held out because of that stupid fantasy. Promised ourselves and each other we’d find a pack someday, one that would take both of us.” The streetlights turn to smears of light through your tears and you quickly wipe your eyes. “We grew up. Things changed, and they didn’t. I gave up on the whole pack thing but Luke never did. And then one day, he was gone. Stopped answering messages, calls, everything. Worst week of my life. Then the first letter came.”

You smile sadly just thinking about it: a musty, yellowed envelope, an antique that’d been collecting dust in some kind of pack storage building, wrapped with twine and labeled with a Quail Creek PO box for a return address. You only knew Quail Creek as a name you sometimes saw on a highway sign.

“Yarrow Meadow had picked him. I think he sent me seven whole pages, just talking about the commune and how it was everything we’d ever wanted and more. The wolves loved him. He said it’s rare that you get to write letters that early, or even at all, and he sent a lot of them. It took a few months before they let him visit because he was job training, basically. He was called a ‘hrefn.’ It sounded like a big deal. The next time I saw him, he was…”

Your throat constricts. He’d been so happy, smiling and misty-eyed like a newlywed, everything about him joyous and unburdened. You had always clung to each other so desperately but now he held you, steady and strong. He had shown you all of his marks like each was a trophy, bites and hickeys and suggestive scratches down his back. They were not like his old scars, the marks he always hid in high school with long sleeves and bulky clothes. He had asked for these. Had even begged, he whispered. He bore them proudly.

That day, like every day he visited, you laid together in a heap of sweaty, tangled limbs and he whispered in your ear. Follow the creek. West from the boulders. Into the evergreens. I’ll wait for you at the end of the stones. He told you Yarrow Meadow was growing, that they wanted—needed—more pack humans. He’d gone wandering into those very woods where the memorial stands now, had sought them out and been welcomed with open arms. He had already told them all about you. All you needed to do was walk the same path.

“I never went.” Your voice is a thin whisper. It hurts to admit. “I was so scared of being rejected. If they turned me away, then what would Luke do? Would he ruin everything for himself, just because of some stupid promise we made as kids? Would they even let him? Or would he stay, and I’d be all alone? I got cold feet every time I thought about it. Luke kept visiting. Kept telling me it’d be fine, it’d all be fine. I just had to go. I had to try. And I couldn’t. And the years went by, and the next thing I know, Quail Creek’s all over the news because the commune burned to the fucking ground, and Luke, he’s…”

His name was Samson Albinson. Twenty-four years old. Software engineer. Infiltrator-hunter. Every article and news show ran the same photo for a month straight of him being ushered into a police vehicle still covered in blood and ash. The trial had been excruciatingly long and highly publicized due to Albinson claiming membership with a prominent vigilante werewolf hunting group—a group which quickly denied any association, insisting he acted alone. To this day, you have no idea whether he was lying in the hopes of appearing righteous or if the hunters were just trying to save face. It doesn’t really matter.

You’d gotten sick just listening to a journalist summarize his simpering argument in court, insisting he had gone to Yarrow Meadow to “inspire a revolution.” He’d waited until a busy festival night when the wolves were occupied, sharing his daring plan of escape with the pack hrefn in the hopes of rallying all of the pack humans, but the hrefn refused. There had been an argument. He hadn’t meant to kill anyone. It had been an accident.

A fourteen stab wound, blunt force trauma to the head accident. A fire started in the main cabin’s den room accident. Six pack humans burned alive because the doors were blocked from the outside accident. Nine dead wolves ambushed from behind while trying to save them accident. Two more with intense facial trauma and defensive wounds on their hands and arms but no blood beneath their claws, as if they had been too shocked to fight back. An accident.

Albinson fled from the commune in the commotion. He wasn’t familiar with the trail or how to get back into town, but one of the pack’s wolves found him. They might’ve been in shock, he recounted, or they might genuinely not have known he was responsible for what happened. Regardless, they fell back on instinct and guided him all the way to the road, staying at his side until emergency services arrived. He claims the wolf became aggressive when a police officer approached to take a statement. A paramedic at the scene disputed this.

The wolf had been frantic but nonviolent, she said, until Albinson announced to everyone present that he was an infiltrator-hunter. She suspects he said this in the hopes of eliciting a response that would cause the police on scene to shoot the wolf.

“Take the next exit,” Sawyer says. You jolt, startled by the sound of his voice. He’s in mostly-human form again, sitting tense and straight-backed in the passenger seat. He’s staring at the road ahead, lit by your headlights. “The sign said there’s a motel,” he clarifies, still not looking at you. “We’re going to stay there tonight.”

“If I sleep in the car, I won’t have to pay—”

“I’ll pay,” he insists.

You’re too tired, physically and emotionally, to argue. Sawyer doesn’t say anything as you pull off the highway and follow the glowing lights until you find a place to stay. He gets out of the car the second you kill the ignition and walks slightly ahead of you into the lobby. It only occurs to you that he’s not wearing anything when you’re under harsh fluorescent lights, staring at his toned legs and firm backside while he scowls at the front desk. The woman who comes scurrying out of a back room freezes mid-stride, stammering and wide-eyed until Sawyer clears his throat.

“Region 12-A. Hoarfrost Falls,” he says. She nods stiffly and hides behind her computer. Sawyer looks back as if to make sure you’re still there, nodding sharply for you to come closer. You let out a sight and stand next to him. He strokes your head. Petting you, like a dog.

You try not to think too hard about the weirdly pleasant feeling that gives you.

“How are you paying for this?” you ask.

He nods towards the computer. “Pack account. There’s a database with every registered pack listed. My alpha will get a notification and approve the charge.” His hand smooths down the back of your head and settles on your nape.

“And how many, uh, beds…?” the woman behind the counter trails off, avoiding Sawyer’s steely gaze.

“One,” he says. You have no idea how but he knows exactly when you’re about to argue and that’s when he squeezes, applying firm but gentle pressure to the back of your neck. You’re so startled that you lose your train of thought entirely.

Sawyer takes the keycard and guides you to the room you’ll be sharing for the night. You don’t put up much of a fight when he steers you towards the bed, kicking off your shoes and collapsing without complaint. You watch with curious amusement as he inspects everything, pacing back and forth, sniffing the furniture, sticking his head into the closet like he seriously expects something threatening to be in there. “What are you doing?” you ask.

“Making sure this is a safe place to sleep.” You hear him in the bathroom, footsteps echoing on the tile floor. He pulls back the shower curtain and opens all of the drawers. “Acceptable,” he mutters after a while. Seemingly satisfied, he comes back out and turns out the lights. The mattress dips beneath his weight. His eyes glint in the dark above you. He’s not laying down.

“You’re not going to stand guard all night, are you?” you ask, hoping you don’t sound as apprehensive as you feel.

He doesn’t answer. You hear the slide of his fingers over the sheets, see his claws arch before he clutches his hand into a fist. Like he wanted to touch you, and then thought better of it. No louder than a whisper, Sawyer speaks your name in the dark. “I know who you are,” he says, hoarse like a confession. “I knew before you introduced yourself.”

You sit up slowly. Sawyer watches you, gaze rising to follow your face, his expression solemn and unreadable. “What do you mean?” you ask.

“Luke.” The way he says that name, the warmth and fondness and love he manages to convey in a single syllable, makes your heart ache all over again. “He told us all about you. All the things you survived together, all the mischief you got into together. What made you sad and what made you laugh. You were like a pair of doves, the way he told it. Inseparable.” Sawyer reaches out to cup your cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb so gently you don’t even feel his claw. “I promised him that the moment you set foot in our woods, you would be ours. We didn’t have the influence to hunt beyond our territory or I would have gone to get you myself.”

He sees the guilt and misery start to bubble over, a sob tearing from your throat. He takes one of your hands and places it on his chest. You’re startled by the stiff, leathery texture of his skin, scars in streaks and patches that leave him hairless in spots along the shoulders and down his sides. He guides your touch across his old wounds, pressing your palm into every dip and ridge and bumpy spot, over his collarbones, down his arms, across his knuckles. You think of Yarrow Meadows and the night everything turned to ashes. You think about that werewolf who led Albinson all the way to safety, shielding him from blowing embers and burning branches, how it must have felt at the end to look him in the eye when he smiled with all that blood on his hands.

“You need to forgive yourself,” Sawyer says, each word spoken slowly, with solemn weight. He pulls you closer and you don’t fight, needing something solid and unyielding to keep you from falling to pieces. His arms wrap around you, your head cradled against his chest. You sob into his soft fur and scars. Sawyer says nothing but he makes soft, soothing noises, cooing and wordless whispers, his hand stroking up and down your back. You cry until you’re certain you have no tears left, wrung out and raw like an open scab. You can’t remember lying down but he’s wrapped around you, keeping you warm and protected.

“Sawyer?” you say, your voice reduced to a sad croak.

He hums quietly, stroking your shoulder. What about tomorrow? you want to ask, but you never get the words out. You don’t want to think about it. Tomorrow, you go back home. But it’s not home, is it? It hasn’t been for a long time. “Get some rest,” he says. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?” You’re embarrassed by how needy you sound, but Sawyer kisses your cheek and hums again like it was the right thing to say.

“Promise. I need to give you my alpha’s number. You’re going to text him, answer his questions.” Something dangerously close to hope quickens your pulse. Sawyer huffs and nuzzles his face into your hair. “In the morning,” he insists. “Time for bed.”

But you push. You can’t help it. You need to know if this is real. “Why am I going to text your alpha? ” you ask.

“Because I have a promise to keep.” He pulls back so he can see your face, wiping the lingering dampness from your cheeks and pressing his lips to your forehead. The way he looks at you makes you feel delicate, like something truly precious.

But even now, doubt starts to creep in. Hesitation. Fear. Can you do this? After everything, all this time and all this hurt, can you still do this? Are they going to want you? “Where…where will—?”

Your first proper kiss is heartstopping and over too quickly. Sawyer’s lips move against yours like he’s been waiting years to taste you, coaxing you to match his hunger. He pulls away with a teasing nip at your lower lip, just hard enough to let you feel the sharp points of his teeth. You hear him inhale sharply. He rests his forehead against yours and drinks you in, sight and sound and your breath with his saliva on your tongue. It both steadies him and ignites even more wanting in his gaze.

“Things are different now. I hunt where I please.” The next kiss is chaste, a quick peck at the corner of your mouth, but you hear something like a growl rumble in his throat. You look into his eyes and you see everything you used to dream about, all the love and desire you and Luke swore you would have someday.

You cling to him, afraid he’ll vanish if you let go. Part of you is still afraid of this, afraid of how badly you want it, certain you don’t deserve it. Sawyer holds you like he knows, firm but gentle, keeping you against his chest so you can hear the steady certainty of his heartbeat.

There is something both pained, almost mournful, and relieved in his voice when he whispers, “You’ll be home soon.”

#rotpeach writes #meanwolves #sawyer #after starting and stopping several drafts that gave little crumbs of sawyer's backstory in this one you just get the whole thing lol #hoping to do a sequel to this one where these two get to enjoy themselves for once

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awriterinthenight · 5 months ago

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"See You Tomorrow Night"-Jess Mariano

words: 1296

warnings: swearing, mentions of weed, Lane being obsessed with reader for a hot moment

a/n I know I haven't been doing requests in a while, I've just really been into the other series I'm writing, and I just had this idea cause rockstar!read x Jess Mariano just scratches a part of my brain, anyway I'll start writing requests again soon, enjoy this for now, also the two pictures are how I imagine reader, and the drummer Vera

summary: You and your band take a pit stop in Stars Hollow to explore, get food, and meet people. In Luke's diner you meet the infamous Jess Mariano and offer him free tickets to your show.

Stars Hollow wasn't a boring place and the people certainly weren't boring, especially with the wide variety of characters the town offered. But Stars Hollow never really had anyone famous from the town, or any famous celebrities that stopped by. The most was maybe the local girl who went to some dance college, but no one really counted that. Miss Patty had her dance back in the day, but that wasn't anything now, and she certainly wasn't famous from it. At most Rory, working with major newspapers and going to Yale, or Lane and her semi-successful band, were the closest thing to fame that the town had.

Or, at least that's the way it was till you showed up. Even though you were only 17 your band had managed to blow up and become a huge success in the couple years you started putting your music out, and signing with a record label not long after.

Currently you were on tour with your band, making your way to Hartford for one of your concerts, when you stumbled upon small town Star Hollow, and decided to take a look around since your show wasn't until tomorrow.

"Shit, I've never been in a place like this, you think they film like Hallmark movies here or something?" your bassist Mark asked. Mark wasn't the brightest and smoked a lot of weed which explained his entire personality.

Your drummer shrugged her shoulders and said, "Probably, and we have about 6 hours to figure that out before we have to get back on the road, so let's explore, and eat something, I'm starving."

"Definitely, someone should also stock up on snacks since last time Mark was high he ate everything," you said, since you really were out of snacks which was why everyone was starving.

"We'll take snack duty, then we can meet in...that diner," Riley, your lead guitarist, said, volunteering him and Mark to get snacks, then pointing at what looked like a place called Luke's.

You nodded, "Cool, make sure to get cosmic brownies and the good popcorn," you yelled, walking towards the diner with Vera, your drummer. Mark just sent you a thumbs up as he walked towards Doose's Market.

To be fair you and Vera did not look like your typical Stars Hollow residents. Both of you were clad in what you liked to call 'rockstar off duty' type look. Vera had on a long sleeve shirt with some pattern made out of gems, low waist jeans, plus a belt, and many chunky jewelry. You were definitely standing out amongst the people of Stars Hollow in your black tank top, black ripped jeans, black leather jacket, Dr. Martens, and all your jewelry just like Vera. Not to mention both of your darker makeup, the matching red in your and Vera's hair.

When you walked into the diner Vera grabbed a seat for you guys as you went to go order. You definitely got some stares when you walked in. It was a small town new people meant new gossip.

"How can I help you?" the dark haired boy at the counter asked, barely looking up from his notepad to take your order.

You tapped your fingers on the counter, and asked, "Do you guys have coffee?"

He then looked up at you, you saw his expression turn to shock for a moment as he took in your appearance, before regaining his composure, "We're a diner, why wouldn't we?" he sassed.

"You'd be surprised how many diners I went to that didn't have coffee," you said, it was only really two or three, but still too many in your opinion, "Anyway I'll take two coffees for now, then just two burgers with fries."

He nodded, putting in the ticket before coming back to the counter to talk to you, "So, where you from?" he questioned, since he knew you weren't from Stars Hollow.

You shrugged, leaning against the counter, "I'm from New York actually," you answered.

"Really, what part?" he asked, starting to wipe down the slightly sticky counter.

"The Village, in lower Manhattan," you said, before you started to add, "I mean Greenw-" but he cut you off.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he spoke, looking up at you.

You gave him a small smile, "You from New York too?"

"Lower East Side actually," he told you, which you found crazy since it was rare you found someone from New York, especially near where you grew up.

"Shit really? Small world I guess," you said, as he turned back to grab the food from the window.

He placed the food down in front of you, "Small world indeed," he repeated, giving you a small smirk.

You were going to respond when a girl walked in, "Hey Jess, have you seen Ror-" she was going to ask before cutting herself off when you turned to look at her, "Oh my god, you're Y/N L/N." Oh, a fan. You never really found any in small towns like this, but it was always great when you did.

"You're, you're music is amazing, you're amazing. The Nymphs changed my life. I wanted to become a drummer because of Vera, she's so cool. I bet she's so cool to be with on tour. I'm going to go see your concert tomorrow. I can't believe I ran into you, are the others here too?" she rambled, talking a mile a minute.

You smiled, letting out a small giggle, "Yeah, they're somewhere around her. You want to be a drummer that's pretty cool," you said, turning around to grab Vera's plate, "If you want, Vera is over there, you can go talk to her, she loves talking to fans. Plus you can bring her her burger," you offered, leaning on your elbows against the counter, holding out the plate of food.

The girl looked as if it was Christmas day and she'd just been given a puppy, "Y-yes, I would love to," she said, taking the plate, "I can't believe I just met Y/N from The Nymphs," she whispered to herself walking away.

You smiled to yourself, happy to see a fan so happy to meet you, plain old you. When you turned back around to face the guy, you could see him smirking at you.

"So you're famous too?" he teased playfully, seeming to be impressed by it.

You shrugged, "Well, yeah, I guess so, not A-list or anything, but famous enough I guess," you said, trying to not seem like a bragger about your very successful career.

He nodded, "Okay," he muttered, "You're playing in Hartford tomorrow?" he said, phrasing it as more of a question.

"Yeah, we're completely sold out actually, its pretty cool," you muttered, taking a bite out of one of your fries.

"Sold out, really? If you weren't I might've gone," he remarked, turning around to clean up something on the counter behind him.

"You didn't even know my band existed till three minutes ago, why would you want to go?" you questioned, since he had never heard your music.

He shrugged, "Can't go just to see you, or is that a crime?" he joked, leaning on the counter in front of you.

You couldn't help but smirk at his comment, "It's not a crime, and you would really want to go?" you asked, a bit skeptical.

"If Lane's that excited to meet you, then your music has to be amazing," he said.

"Fine, what's your name," you asked him, since you hadn't known his name yet.

"Jess," he replied, "Jess Mariano."

"Alright Mariano, I'll see you tomorrow night then," you told him.

He smirked at what you said, "See you tomorrow night," he repeated back to you as a sort of confirmation.

Taglist for all fics (ask to be added

@almost-gabrielle @scarlett-8 @sarahskywalker-amidala @atashiboba @that1deerpersondownstairs @herondale-lightworm @purplerose291 @mitskiswift99

#x reader #jess mariano x y/n #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano #gilmore girls #gilm

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population9973 · 1 year ago

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family line - luke danes

luke danes x fem!reader

summary: things get a little complicated when your boyfriends nephew comes to stay with him

warnings: smoking, family trouble, a bit of angst, mention of cheating but it isn’t happening?, language, readers parents are 💀

word count: 3k (this was supposed to be short)

as you woke up in bed, you rolled over to find luke’s side of the bed empty, and squinted at the clock on his nightstand; you’d slept in.

“oh crap,” you hurried to get dressed and presentable before heading downstairs to work. as you walked in, you noticed luke was on the phone, and he didn’t sound too happy with whoever he was talking to. lorelai was behind the counter grabbing donuts and putting them in a bag, while a group of boy scouts waited in line.

“okay fine,” he said loudly. “do what you want- make the arrangements. now i’m working, we’ll finish this later!” he hung up the phone with a clang.

“is everything okay?” lorelai asked, and you gave luke a worried look as you tied an apron around your waist.

“do either of you have a sister?” he asked.

“uhm, no.”

“no,” you agreed. in the six months you had been with luke, family had never really come up as a topic of dicussion; and that was more than okay with you.

“i do!” one of the boy scouts piped up.

“you have my sympathies,” luke sighed, and disappeared into the back.

“here, i’ll ring you through,” you offered to lorelai, who happily cut in front of the line.

“do you know what that was all about?” she asked, and you shook your head.

“no idea,” you answered honestly, telling her the total for the donuts as rory pestered her to hurry up.

after helping the boy scouts order and pay for their food, you went to find luke, who was sitting in the storage room organizing cans on the shelf.

“hey, sorry i was late,” you said softy.

“that’s okay, it was quiet this morning. i thought i’d let you sleep in,” he replied.

“when is it your turn to sleep in?” you teased.

“never.”

“that’s what i thought,” you sighed. “i take it that wasn’t a customer calling to place an order?”

“no,” he sighed. “it was my sister. her son - jess, my nephew is gonna stay with me for a while.”

“is your sister okay?”

“define okay,” he replied, and you gave him a look. “nothing happened to her, she just can’t control him anymore. he’s getting into trouble and she’s given up taking care of him, so she’s sending him here.”

“i see,” you nodded.

“you’re mad i didn’t ask you,” he suggested, and you shook your head.

“no, luke of course not. he’s your family, and it’s your apartment not mine,” you disagreed. “i think it’s nice that you want to help him, and your sister.”

“but?”

“but what?” you asked.

“there’s a but,” he insisted, and you sighed.

“but,” you exaggerated, raising an eyebrow. “are you sure you’re ready for this kind of responsibility?”

“you don’t think i can do it?” he asked, stopping his shelf organizing to look at you.

“it’s not that i don’t think you can, of course i do. i just - think it might be a little more difficult than you’re expecting, thats all. so if you need any help-“

“i’ll be fine,” he insisted.

“okay.”

“but thank you,” he added, kissing your forehead softly, before walking back out to help a customer who’d been ringing the service bell.

“you better be on fire or else calm down; i’m on my way!” he called, and the ringing stopped.

you sighed, wondering if luke knew what he was getting himself into.

•

you only worked half days at the diner so you decided to give luke some space and go back to your house for a while, tidying up a bit since you’d been at luke’s the night before.

flopping down on the couch, you scrolled through the tv channels looking for something to watch, but failed to find anything that interested you.

after making some lunch and doing some chores around the house, you went out to buy some groceries and stopped by the diner to see how luke was doing just after dinner.

“hey,” you smiled, the bell above the door altering him to your presence.

“hey, back already?”

“i’m just passing by. i’m going to the grocery store - do you need me to grab anything for you while i’m there?” you asked, but he shook his head.

“nah i think i got everything all stocked up earlier.”

“is he here already?” you asked.

“yeah, i picked him up from the bus stop an hour ago. you might run into him while you’re out and about.”

“he went out already?” you asked.

“yeah, i think he wanted to uh… see the town,” luke sounded unsure.

“honey-“

“it’s fine, i’m sure he just needs some time to get used to being here. that’s all.”

“you’re right,” you agreed. “not to go into the gorey details but i’ve been in his place before and it’s not easy. no matter how great the person you’re staying with is,” you held his hand on the counter for a second, and he looked like he wanted to ask what you meant, but just smiled instead.

“thanks. i’ll see you later?”

“i was thinking i’d give you guys some space - let him settle in on his own for at least the first night. i’ll see you tomorrow though?” you offered, and he nodded in agreement.

your mind was distracted as you shopped for a few things at the store; luke’s nephew being in town was bringing up some memories that you’d spent years trying to forget. memories of your own adolescence. you just hoped things were easier for luke and jess than they had been for you.

•

it was nearly eleven at night when there was a knock on the door. after a quick glance through the window, you opened the door to see luke standing there.

“hey - what’s going on is everything okay?”

“uh yeah, sure,” he replied, walking past you and into the house, and you shut the door, walking into the living room to find him sitting on the couch.

“luke?”

“yeah.”

“shouldn’t you be at home with jess? i thought you guys were going to hang out?”

“yeah, uh he went out.”

“he went out?”

“yeah. i think i scared him off,” he sighed, and you took a seat next to him, placing a hand reassuringly on his knee.

“what happened?”

“nothing - lorelai invited me to bring him by for dinner tomorrow, so he can meet her and rory, and he asked if i wanted to play poker and then left,” he shrugged.

“ahh i see.”

“see what?” he asked, and you sighed.

“when i was 17, i got into a lot of trouble - like jess. my parents - may they rot in hell - were assholes who hated me and sent me to live with my aunt. lovely woman - had no idea what to do with me.”

“you’re saying i have no idea what i’m doing?”

“i’m saying, it doesn’t matter if you do everything right, sometimes a kid like that has to decide to come around on their own.”

“why didn’t you ever tell me your parents were dead?”

“i guess it never came up,” you shrugged.

“i’m sorry.”

“don’t be,” you shook your head. “the only thing they ever gave me was the ability to lie about where i was going and which floorboards to step on so they didn’t catch me sneaking out. i’m better off without them.”

“i had no idea.”

“i don’t really talk about them, you had no way to know. i’m okay now. my life is better than i ever imagined it could be, and i have you in part to thank for it,” you kissed his cheek softly, and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to lean against his side.

“well i’m glad i could be of service,” he kissed you softly.

“jess will come around, luke. just give him some time. my first night after my parents sent me away i stole a car and lived in it for a week.”

“really?” he asked, looking nervous as if he thought jess might do the same.

“no,” you laughed and he relaxed. “but it did take me a while to settle in.”

“is it a bad time to mention that i told lorelai you would come to dinner tomorrow?”

“of course i’ll be there,” you smiled, snuggling into his side after pressing another soft kiss to his lips.

“i should probably get going in case he comes back to the apartment. he doesn’t have a key.”

“you didn’t give me a key?” you asked with a slight laugh.

“he said he didn’t need one,” luke shrugged.

“ah - you have a locksmith on your hands.”

“you think he can pick locks?” he asked.

“it’s not that hard-“ you raised your hands as he shor you a disapproving glance. “kidding.”

“very funny,” he rolled his eyes playfully. “i really should get home.”

“five more minutes?” you asked, clinging to him tighter so he couldn’t leave the couch.

“okay,” he conceded. “five minutes.”

•

“hey, perfect timing!” lorelai greeted as you stood with luke and jess at her front door. “sookie is about to break the record for the most food served outside of the roman empire.”

“sounds great,” luke replied.

“sure does,” jess agreed. though far less sincerely. the introduction between you and luke’s nephew had gone about as well as you’d expected, but you tried to remember how you felt each time your aunt brought home someone new, so you weren’t taking anything he said too personally.

“so, come on in,” lorelai offered, and jess followed her into the house, looking at some pictures on the wall before finding his way to rory’s room after being introduced to sookie and jackson.

everyone got ready to sit down at the table, rory explaining that jess was just grabbing a soda, before you realized you didn’t have a drink and went to grab one. jess was no where to be seen when you got in there, and you stepped outside to find him on the porch with a beer bottle, which he opened with the railing of the porch.

“not hungry?” you asked, holding your hand out for him to hand over the beer, which he did with a sigh.

“not really,” he agreed.

“don’t worry - i won’t tell anyone about the beer, just don’t let lorelai catch you doing it again.”

“thanks, you’re my hero,” he said sarcastically. “you gonna make me come back inside?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“no, if i was you i wouldn’t want to be in there either to be honest,” you sighed. “lorelai is trying to be nice but all this can be … kind of overwhelming.”

“yeah,” he mumbled.

“did the party move out here and no one bothered to tell us?” lorelai asked, emerging from the kitchen door.

“i’ll be right in, i think jess wants to get some fresh air,” you said, pretty sure she wasn’t gonna like that answer.

“sookie made you a grilled cheese if you don’t like pot roast,” she offered in a sing song voice.

“wow. if i’d have known that-“ jess said mockingly. you knew lorelai was only trying to help luke, but you had a feeling that she was just going to make things worse.

“you really don’t want to be here,” she gathered.

“what gave you that idea?” he teased.

“look, i’ve done this whole act before - but you’ve got a really good thing here with luke, he’s a really great guy. he really wants to take care of you and make things right for you. you’re incredibly lucky to have him,” lorelai went on and on, and even you felt awkward, taking a step back to sit on the porch swing.

“lorelai-“ you started to tell her to tone it down a little, but she ignored you. you knew luke didn’t want her meddling in the situation, him being very much an ‘if i want help i’ll ask for it’ and then never ask type of guy.

“if you give this situation half a chance, you might be suprised at how good it can be, and how much you like living here, and how good it feels to have someone like luke that you can really depend on.”

“that’s funny, i thought she,” he pointed to you. “was his girlfriend. are you sleeping with him too, or something?” jess asked, and though it was inappropriate to say the least, you barely stifled a laugh. it sounded exactly like something you would’ve said when you were his age, and lorelai was definitely laying it on pretty thick about luke.

“excuse me?”

“the whole starry eyed ‘you’re so much better off, just give it a chance’ speech. you’re either really naive, or you’re getting some,” he said, before turning to you. “sorry this might be how you find out you’re getting cheated on.”

“jess, come on-“ you sighed.

“this is my house, and i choose how i get talked to in it.”

“you know, you don’t know anything about me, or my life, or my mom, or luke, so why don’t you doctor laura someone else.”

“i’m going inside, you better not have taken that beer from my fridge,” she pointed to the bottle you had set on the table, grabbing it on her way inside and slamming the porch door.

“that wasn’t very neighborly now was it?” jess mumbled, more to himself than to you, you decided.

“hey, i’m not gonna give you a speech or anything-“

“sounds like you are.”

“she means well, even if she can be a bit… much, sometimes,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“if i have to hear about how perfect my life is now one more time i might go stand in traffic,” he huffed, and to your surprise, he sat down on the opposite end of the porch swing, the chain creaking as he did.

“it’s not worth your time; no one here drives fast enough to do any damage,” you offered, and he almost smiled.

jess pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, earning a side eye from you, and he sighed as he handed it over. you put it out in a small puddle of water on the porch and tossed it in the bin outside the kitchen door, before you heard luke and lorelai arguing in the kitchen.

“they fight like a married couple too,” jess added, and you laughed.

“i can’t disagree with you.”

“you sure they’re not-“

“they’re not. don’t bring it up again,” you advised, and he raised his hands in mock surrender as luke stormed out of the gilmore house.

“let’s go,” he said, looking at the two of you, and jess didn’t hesitate to get up and start walking, and in that moment you were just as eager as he was to get away from the gilmore house.

“i think i should go home. call me tomorrow?”

“you’re ditching me?” luke asked.

“no, i just think me being here isn’t really helping, and maybe you guys need some time to talk. i’ll come to yours if you want me to.”

“he’s had more of a conversation with you than he has with me,” luke argued, and you sighed, looking down at your feet. “i’m sorry, you’re right. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“okay. i love you,” you said, giving him a kiss before he hurried to catch up with jess, and you started your walk home.

•

for the second time that week, luke showed up at your house unexpectedly, and you opened the door to let him inside. it was your day off work so you hadn’t talked to him since last night, and he still seemed pretty upset.

“hey, what’s up?” you asked.

“i just pushed him in a lake.”

“what?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“jess. i got this call from taylor that he thinks jess stole the bridge money and i went for confront him and he was being impossible and i just pushed him in. this is bad,” he trailed off mumbling to himself.

“hey maybe it’s not as bad as you think it is,” you tried to calm him down. “how good of a swimmer is he?”

“he’s fine,” he sighed. “he’s wet. i just - i lost it. you’re right; i am in so far over my head i can’t even see my own hat.”

“have you tried turning it around?” you teased, and he gave you a look.

“what was I thinking why did I say yes to this?”

“because you wanted to help him.”

“raising a kid - i don’t even like kids! they’re always sticky, like they’ve got jam on their hands. even if there’s no jam in the house, somehow they’ve always got jam on their hands. i’m not the right guy to deal with that. i have no patience for jam hands!” he spiralled.

“luke, honey. slow down,” you shushed him. “he’s a teenager, not a toddler, so i think you probably don’t have to worry about the jam thing, and you can absolutely do this. but it’s going to take more than two days and an air mattress for you guys to become best friends.”

“i swear i’m gonna kill liz,” he interrupted.

“liz isn’t here. jess is, and you cannot give up on him yet. i know this is not going how you planned but imagine how he must feel.”

“maybe you could talk to him - he doesn’t hate you like he hates me.”

“he does not hate you, luke. he doesn’t know you,” you corrected. “if you want me to talk to him i can try but i don’t know how much that will help. i can’t parent him for you. he’s living under your roof not mine.”

“you’re right,” he sighed.

“as always,” you teased, kissing him on the cheek. “do you want to stay for dinner since you’re here?”

“nah i gotta go find a gnome.”

“excuse me?”

“babette’s gnome - long story.”

“i don’t want to know,” you laughed, and he pulled you into a hug.

“thank you, for talking me out of the crazy tree.”

“you’re welcome. he just needs more time to adjust - his whole life got flipped upside down overnight,” you sympathized. “and so did yours. you need to adjust to this too. just - try not to push him in anymore lakes?” you suggested as luke stepped out the door.

“no promises,” he smiled, before leaving to go find the missing gnome, and you shook your head as you closed the door behind him. at least things were never boring in stars hollow.

#gilmore girls #gilmore girls aesthetic #luke danes #scott patterson #gilmore girls fic #luke danes fic #luke danes imagine #luke danes x reader #luke gilmore girls #scott patterson fic

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thegettingbyp2 · 1 year ago

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Hi! Would you like to do a part 2 of "I'd Mever Do That to Ypu" (Jess Mariano)? Maybe the first time they visit Stars Hollow and readar meets Luke, Lorelai and Rory? It's okay if you don't, I just really love your writing!

Thank you so much for everything you write <3

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After confessing your feelings to each other, Jess was desperate to take you to Stars Hollow. He wanted you to see the little town and he wanted to introduce you to Luke, knowing that his Uncle would love you straight away. And he was right. The moment you walked into the diner, you were greeted by a tall man, wearing a baseball cap and a flannel shirt embracing you in a bear hug.

‘You must be (Y/N),’ he said, pulling back from the hug and smiling at you.

‘(Y/N), this is my Uncle Luke,’ Jess introduced, taking one of your hands in his.

‘It’s nice to meet you, sir,’ you said.

‘I don’t think I’ve heard anyone call you sir,’ a tall, dark-haired woman said, getting up from her table and walking over to you, wrapping one arm around Luke and holding her hand out to you. ‘I’m Lorelai.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ you replied, reaching out to shake her hand.

‘Come and sit down, you want a coffee, hun?’ Lorelai offered, walking behind the counter and grabbing a mug and the coffee pot.

‘Get out from there,’ Luke said, walking over to Lorelai and pulling her back around the counter.

‘She doesn’t work here?’ you asked, leaning into Jess slightly.

‘No, she’s dating Luke,’ Jess explained, leading you over to the table where Lorelai had been sitting on her own. Taking your seats, Lorelai filled three mugs with coffee before sitting back down and talking at a breakneck speed, wanting to know everything about it. It was when she mentioned Rory that you felt yourself go cold.

‘You know Rory?’ you asked politely, taking a sip of your coffee.

‘Well, I’d hope so, she’s my daughter,’ Lorelai joked and you gave a weak laugh in response. ‘Why? Do you know her?’

‘(Y/N) and Rory briefly saw each other at the open house in Philadelphia,’ Jess explained. You managed to make it through the rest of the afternoon, talking to Lorelai as if nothing was wrong before you and Jess decided to call it a day and head to the apartment above the diner (Luke having offered it to you both while he stayed at Lorelai’s).

‘Are you okay?’ Jess asked after gently closing the door behind him.

‘So, this is where you lived?’ you started, looking around the small apartment, trying to change the subject.

‘Don’t change the subject,’ Jess said, seeing right through you as he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close. You sighed before leaning your forehead on his chest.

‘I just hate the way she treated you,’ you said, your voice muffled by his t-shirt. ‘She led you on and I know you said that you don’t have feelings for her anymore, and I believe you, but she was the first girl you loved and she ruined it. You know I won’t do that right?’ you asked, moving your head to look at time.

‘Do you know what Luke said to me earlier while you were talking to Lorelai?’ Jess asked softly, bringing his hands up to gently cup your face. ‘He said that you’re good for me. That he can see how happy I am when I’m with you. And I agree with him. That’s all that matters, right?’

You couldn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach at his words and you smiled up at him, reaching on your toes to press a kiss to his lips.

‘Right.’

#jess mariano #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano x reader #gilmore girls

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fortheloveofwonderland · 1 year ago

Text

Midnight | Chapter 17 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - Luke arrives in Crested Butte and meets some locals. Spencer has his own problems to deal with.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - drinking, brief mentions of sex, swearing, bribery, false allegations, sexual abuse. WC - 5.8k

Chapter 17 - Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

You didn’t remember much about returning to the cabin last night as upon arriving back in Butte you and Spencer had indulged in one two many drinks at The Eldo before finally stumbling home well after midnight.

Judging by the fact your body was sore and you were naked, you’d probably had sex more than once and your head was throbbing when you opened your eyes, but you felt at peace.

Spencer stirred next to you, pulling you closer to his body and kissing your messy hair.

“I swore I’d never drink that much again.” He grumbled.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a freight train.” You agreed.

“I think that was more my fault than the alcohol. I’m fairly certain we had sex at least five times. And from memory it got pretty rough.” He pulled you even closer.

“Worth it.” You smiled sleepily, resting your head on his chest. “I feel like shit, but I also feel on top of the fucking world.”

“Hmm, me too.” He agreed, nuzzling his face against your head.

“Don’t get excited, I don’t think my body can handle anymore sex right now.”

“Trust me when I say I don’t even think I have the energy to get it up.” He chuckled.

“That is music to my ears right now.” You giggled.

“Give it time, I’m sure there’s only so long I can lay next to a beautiful, naked woman before it happens of its own accord.”

“Fair enough.” You giggled again. “I can handle that. But I never want to drink again in my life.”

“Agreed.” Spencer exhaled before adding. “You know, until next time.”

You snuggled into him, wrapping your arm around his waist and slinging one leg over his. In that moment you felt invincible.

***

McGill’s Diner on Elk Avenue had a traffic camera positioned between the ground and first floor windows, capturing every car that passed by. It was the same camera that had witnessed the little blue Nissan purchased by Andrew Burnett in Franklin County, Virginia, drive up and down the street multiple times over the last week.

With no better place to start, Luke parked up at the curb and headed inside. He was under strict instructions from Prentiss that he was to not treat this like a federal investigation, they had no idea what they were dealing with and they didn’t want to alert the townsfolk to FBI presence. He was simply a concerned friend.

To stave off temptation, he left his creds in the hire vehicle he’d driven the forty minutes from Gunnison-Crested Butte Regional Airport. He did however keep his firearm visible in his holster on his hip.

A little bell chimed above the door as he entered the diner. It was late enough that the breakfast rush was over and early enough for the lunchtime crowd not to have surfaced yet so it was reasonably quiet. There was an older couple in a booth over the back and a younger man and woman sitting at the counter.

Luke made his way over to where a guy around your age was fixing a pot of coffee behind the counter. He looked up when he heard Luke approached and offered him a friendly smile. He wore a green flannel shirt over a black tee which had some kind of stain down it.

“Hi there,” he put down the coffee pot and gave Luke his full attention. “Can I get you a table?”

“No, thanks. I’m actually looking for some people. My friends, I think they might be here.” Luke dove straight in.

“Sure, I might be able to help. Most people come through here even if they're just in town for a day or two. Our coffee is pretty good.”

“Is this your place?”

“No, my dads.” The man wiped his hand on his jeans before extending it towards Luke. “Jesse McGill.”

“Luke Alvez.” Luke shook his hand. “So like I said, I’m looking for my friends. Rose and Andrew Burnett. I can show you pictures if you like?”

“No, that’s ok.” Jesse rolled his lip between his teeth. “I know them. Well, I know her better than him, never really spoken to him but I’ve seen him around.”

“They still in town?” Luke asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh, I guess so. Haven’t seen them for a few days so I can’t be sure. People come and go, you know? This place is a bit of a tourist trap.” Jesse shrugged.

“A ski resort isn’t much of a tourist trap in spring time.” Luke narrowed his eyes on Jesse, feeling as though the man was hiding something from him. “You know where they’re staying?”

Jesse straightened his back, running a hand through his thick beard while he contemplated how to answer that. Luke could tell he knew exactly where they were staying but for whatever reason, didn’t want to share the information. He knew all it would take to get it out of him would be to flash his FBI badge, but of course Prentiss had ordered him not to.

Jesse was mulling over what you’d told him the other night about Rose not being your real name and not really being married and now a stranger had shown up looking for you, that couldn’t be good.

Something happened and we had to leave our jobs, our homes, that’s what you’d said to him. Were you running from someone, someone like this man in front of him? He didn’t want to risk your safety or betray your trust. He didn’t get a good vibe from this Luke Alvez character.

“No, sorry I don’t.” He shrugged again. “Like I say, haven’t seen them in a few days, they may have already left town.”

Luke wasn’t buying any of this. Jesse knew exactly where you and Spencer were but he wasn’t going to tell Luke. Why, Luke didn’t know, but without his FBI creds to back him up he knew he wasn’t going to get much further. Maybe he’d reassess, call Prentiss and tell her that no one was talking to him and he needed some authority on his side.

“Well, you also said most people come through here right? So I’ll take that table now and a cup of that coffee and I’ll wait.” Luke smiled smugly at him and subtly put his hands on his hips to draw attention to his firearm.

Jesse glanced down at it and the fear he’d felt for your safety only doubled. What the hell kind of trouble were you in and how could he alert you to it without arousing suspicion? For now he nodded, motioning Luke towards a table and following him over with the pot of coffee. He left him alone after that but kept a watchful eye over the stranger in his diner.

Luke pulled out his phone and texted Prentiss to let her know that he’d arrived in the Butte but hadn’t had much luck yet. He sipped the coffee, which he couldn’t deny was pretty incredible and stared at the door as if it would magically open and you would stroll in.

He was only sitting there for about a minute before a young girl with bright red hair who had been sitting at the counter slid into the booth opposite him. She had a curious look in her large green eyes as she leant on the table with her elbows.

“I know Andrew Burnett pretty well.” She cut to the chase.

“Really?” Luke cocked his eyebrow at her.

“We hooked up a few times.” She shrugged, her words causing Luke to pull a face.

“You and S…Andrew?”

“Yep.”

“How old are you?” Luke’s brow furrowed heavily, thinking there was no way Spencer would sleep with this girl.

“Twenty seven.” She sat straight and puffed out her chest but Luke’s disbelieving look caused her to huff. “Fine, I’m twenty two.”

“Yeah, uh, no offence but I’m fairly certain he wouldn’t sleep with a twenty two year old.” Luke clucked.

“Well, he did. More than once.” She smirked smugly. “I promised I wouldn’t say anything because of his little wifey, but he couldn’t keep his hands off of me.”

“Wifey as in Rose?”

“Uh huh, between you and me she seems kinda like a stick in the mud.”

“That stick in the mud is my friend.” Luke scowled at her.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s no better. She might be boring but he has some anger issues.” She picked at one of her nails.

“Anger issues?” Luke frowned, it wasn’t the first time someone had inferred that about Spencer recently.

“Yep. I think he controls Rose, she always seems a little timid round him. And then there was the time he practically threw me against a wall.”

“He…are you sure?” Luke was frowning so hard he felt a headache pinching at his temples.

“Yeah that’s not the kind of thing you forget. He couldn’t keep it up, tried to blame me for it. So I told him he probably couldn’t keep it up because he was old…no offence.”

“None taken.” Luke pulled a face.

“Anyway so he just freaks, gets me up against the wall and yells in my face and I swear he’s going to hurt me.” She finished with a shake of her head.

“Did he?”

“No, but I think he wanted to.”

Luke pulled out his phone and got up a photograph of Spencer which he turned to show the girl.

“Is this the man you’re talking about?”

“Yep, that’s him.” She nodded. “You say you know him, you must know what he’s like.”

“Yeah, see that’s the thing, I don’t know him to be an angry or violent man. So what I’m wondering is maybe you had a little crush on him and he rebuffed you and so you’re making up stories to tarnish him and make yourself feel better.” Luke picked up the coffee mug and lifted it to his lips.

“I’m not five.” She spat. “I know what happened. I was just trying to help but if you don’t need-”

“Ok, Mary, that’s enough now.” She was cut off by a hand on her shoulder and she looked up to see Jesse standing over her. “You can leave now.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed, sliding out of the booth and sulking away. Jesse soon took her place, sitting down opposite Luke and exhaling through his nose.

“Look, I don’t make a habit of agreeing with her, but I think she might be telling you the truth.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Rose told me something bad happened to them and that she had get away and when you strolled in here looking for them, I thought maybe you were the something bad, you know?”

Luke nodded slowly, sitting forward in his seat.

“But you don’t think so now?” Luke narrowed his eyes on Jesse.

“No.” Jesse shook his head. “You’re a cop right? Shoulda noticed that before, you scream law enforcement.”

“FBI.” Luke whispered so no one else would hear. “I’m not here on official capacity though, I worked with Y/N and Spencer, they’re my friends and I really am just trying to find them.”

“Y/N and Spencer?” Jesse frowned. “She told me Rose wasn’t her real name but she wouldn’t tell me what it was. They’re FBI?”

“They were, until a while ago when they just skipped down.” Luke ran his fingers through his hair, knowing he shouldn’t be telling Jesse any of this. “You said you thought that kid was telling the truth? Why?”

Jesse exhaled again, looking sceptically at Luke as though he still wasn’t sure he trusted him. He ran his fingers through his beard and pulled a face that Luke couldn’t place.

“When I first met Rose…Y/N, she told me her “husband” was a drunken bully. I got the impression she was scared of him. I asked her if he hurt her and she said no but she did say that he had a temper. He’s a skinny dude but there’s something about him that makes me think he wouldn’t hesitate in kicking someone’s ass. He doesn’t strike me as stable, if that makes sense.” Jesse looked uncomfortable sharing this information, like he was betraying you in doing so.

“It makes absolutely zero sense, but if you knew Spencer Reid, it wouldn't make sense to you either.” Luke shook his head.

“I’m scared for her.” Jesse admitted, leaning on the table and lowering his voice to barely a whisper. “They’re staying on Gothic Avenue, big cabin right at the end. Come out of here and go straight up 4th, take the second right onto Gothic. Keep going for about a half mile and it's the big one on the corner right before the large rec.”

“You did the right thing.” Luke smiled at him, reaching into his pocket and subtly sliding his card across the table which Jesse quickly took. “If you see either of them, please call me.”

“Sure.” Jesse nodded, soon sliding out of his chair and walking away.

Luke downed the rest of the coffee and got to his feet, making quick work of getting outside and back into his hired car and following Jesse’s instructions, drove towards the Gothic Avenue cabin.

But he wasn’t the only one on that particular mission and he didn’t notice the redhead following him outside and heading the same way on foot.

***

It was just before lunch time, after some extremely lazy sex that you finally dragged yourself out of bed, your hunger getting the better of you. But you soon came to find the cupboards were empty.

Spencer bribed you with sexual favours you probably would have gotten anyway, to go down to Scout’s as he physically couldn’t prise himself away from the bed. Reluctantly you’d agreed, taking a quick shower to wash the stench of sex off of you before dressing and heading outside.

You got about a third of the way down Gothic Avenue when you suddenly felt as though you were being watched. The hairs on the back of your neck stood to attention and you felt something was wrong in your gut. You picked up your pace, partially wishing you’d had the forethought to bring the Colt with you.

Just before you made it to 4th Street a hand clamped down on your shoulder. You were trained for this. You knew exactly what to do.

Without even so much as taking a breath, you spun quickly on your heels and sent your fist flying into the face of your potential attacker. They stumbled backwards with a loud groan of pain, hands flying to where you’d just punched them in the nose.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” He yelped, glaring at you as he held his nose.

You stared at the man you’d hit wide eyed as the air felt like it escaped your lungs.

“L-Luke?” You stuttered, wobbling on your feet. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too.” He grumbled. “I should have known better than to sneak up on you.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You repeated.

“Where’s Spencer?” He let go of his nose and dropped his hands to his sides.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You didn’t miss a beat.

“Sorry, I meant Andrew. Andrew Burnett, your husband.” He nodded his head towards the wedding band.

“Goddamnit.” You growled, pinching the bridge of your nose. “How did you find us?”

“We’re profilers, Y/N. Come on.” He rolled his eyes. “Garcia found Reid’s car. We tracked you to a used car lot and the car you bought with Spencer’s fake licence. We put out an APB on the Nissan and found it had been picked up on cameras in this town several times.”

“Are the rest of the team here?” You folded your arms across your chest.

“No, just me. We’re shorthanded, remember?”

“Good. You need to leave, you have no idea what you’ve walked into.”

“Y/N,” he softened, stepping towards you. “Has Spencer done something? Has he threatened you?”

“What? Why would you think that?” You scoffed.

“I spoke to some people in town and they seem to think he’s this violent, angry man.”

“Who told you that?” You frowned at him.

“That doesn’t matter. You need to tell me what’s going on. You understand that this looks bad, right?” Luke pleaded with you.

“We just wanted to get away. Spencer’s been struggling since prison and I was feeling stifled at the BAU. So we decided it might be a good idea to just get away from it all for a while.” You tried to insist but you knew Luke wasn’t buying it.

“I might believe that if it wasn’t for the burner phones and fake IDs and burnt out cars.” He spat. “You were an FBI agent for a long time, you know what that looks like, don’t you?”

It looks like two criminals on the run. It looks exactly like what it is.

“What are you implying, Luke?” You frowned heavily at him.

“If Spencer has done something, to you or to anyone else, you can tell me, Y/N. You can tell me anything.” He looked deep into your eyes and you felt for a brief moment that bond between the two of you.

You could tell him anything, you knew that much. Luke Alvez had done nothing but stick by your side through everything and you knew this would be no different.

You reached up and fiddled with the rose gold heart pendant around your neck. Did you love Spencer enough to protect him from this? Or was this finally your way out?

***

Spencer threw the pillow over his head and groaned deeply as a heavy knock sounded on the front door. The alcohol from last night that still seemed to be drowning his brain cells meant it felt like whoever was knocking was doing so directly against his skull.

His plan had been not to leave this bed all day. His drive to and from South Dakota plus an exuberant amount of sex had drained his energy and the scotch he’d consumed left him feeling dizzy.

The knock came again, followed in quick succession by the doorbell. Whoever it was clearly didn’t plan to go away easily. He groaned, his head spinning as he forced himself out of the comfort of the plush bed. His eyes were blurry and made trying to find any semblance of clothes almost impossible.

As a third knock sounded he managed to locate his boxers and stumbled trying to put them on. His legs wobbled frantically as he slowly crept from the bedroom and down the stairs.

His stomach lurched as he walked and he briefly thought he might throw up but thankfully it passed. He continued through the living room towards the door as the doorbell rang once more.

“Jeez. Alright I’m coming.” He belched rather unceremoniously. “Jesus I’m still drunk.”

He threw open the door, keeping hold of it to help steady himself. He blinked a few times against the bright red assault of colour on his retinas before focusing on her face. He groaned, suddenly wishing he’d made an effort to put more clothes on and that he wasn’t standing here in just his boxers with her on his front porch.

“Fucking hell, what do you want?” He leant against the door jamb, not trusting his wobbly legs to stand unaided.

“Well that’s just rude.” Mary smirked at him and there was something menacing to it. “I just want to talk.”

“We have nothing to talk about.” He stood back up, moving to close the door in her face only in his state she was faster and she shoved her hands against the wood to stop it from closing.

“Oh I think we have a lot to talk about.” Her smirk grew. “Why don’t you invite me in, Spencer Reid?”

***

“You can tell me anything.” Luke repeated when you were silent for some time.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed.

“Oh please, Spencer couldn’t hurt a fly and you know it.” You shook your head.

“So he didn’t give you those bruises on your neck?” Luke looked quietly smug.

You unfolded your arms and one of your hands went to your throat. You’d gotten used to them being there if truth be told and didn’t think much of them most of the time.

“It’s not what it looks like.” You brushed your fingers over the bruises.

“Oh really? Because to me it looks like he tried to strangle you.” Luke hissed.

“Fucking christ, Alvez,” you spat back, grinding your teeth furiously. “You really want me to stand here and tell you I like it when he puts his hand around my throat when he fucks me?”

You swore you saw the exact moment Luke’s heart shattered in his chest. His eyes softened and he stumbled backwards, his mouth falling open as a pain washed across his face. You instantly regretted your harsh choice of words but it was too late.

“You’re…you’re sleeping with him?” He couldn’t hide the upset from his voice despite how hard he tried.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “We’re, uh, together I guess.”

“You are aware he’s sleeping with some young redhead, right?” Spencer spat.

“What? How do you know about Mary?” You glared at him.

“I met her! She told me that Spencer got aggressive with her when he couldn’t get it up. I didn’t believe her at first but then that McGill guy said you’d told him that your “husband” was a bully.” Luke sounded exasperated.

“You talked to Jesse?” You spat. “Luke, you had no right! You had no right to follow us here in the first place. We’re happy here, just let it go.”

“Happy? Happy?” He scoffed, stepping towards you. “You’ve got a fucking trail of bruises around your neck and I’m starting to think they aren’t the only ones.”

Before you could reply, Luke was grabbing one of your hands and pushing the sleeve of the pink wool sweater up your arm revealing more finger shaped bruises circling your wrist.

“Goddamnit, conejito, really? You’re happy? You’re happy being abused?” He dropped your arm and stepped back, sadly shaking his head.

“It’s not abuse, jeez. We like rough sex Luke, so what?”

“Oh my god, please stop talking about you and Reid’s sex life.”

“Are you jealous?” You scowled at him. “Are you jealous because he’s got all you ever wanted?”

He frowned at you, looking at you like he didn’t recognise you anymore, like he was standing in front of a stranger. He took a step back, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Maybe once this is what I wanted, yeah. But you aren’t the same person anymore, are you? You’re not my conejito.” He rolled his lip between his teeth.

“I was never your conejito, Luke.” You spat. “You need to leave, you shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you explain to me what’s going on. What has Spencer done? What are you scared of, Y/N?” Luke begged.

“Spencer has done nothing but love me! We wanted a fresh start, away from the BAU and all the bullshit. I don’t need you anymore Luke, I don’t need you protecting me. Let me go, for the love of god just let me go!” You raised your voice.

“I think something happened,” he stepped closer to you. “I think Spencer did something really bad and you’re covering for him because you’re scared. You don’t need to be scared, Y/N. Just tell me what he’s done and I can help you.”

He reached for you but you slapped his hand away.

“Don’t touch me. Spencer has done nothing wrong, Jesus just because you’re an FBI agent doesn’t mean you always have to think like one. Sometimes the simplest explanation is the right one. And in this case it’s as simple as we wanted to get away and we knew we’d never be able to do that as Y/N Y/L/N and Spencer Reid.” You growled at him, your back well and truly up.

“You’re lying.” He bit back. “I know you better than you know yourself and I know when you’re lying. We’re the best goddamn profilers in the world and I swear to you, Y/N, we will find out what he’s done and we will come for him. Don’t let yourself become collateral damage.”

“Burden of proof.” You shrugged, a wry smile on your face. You remembered so well having a conversation with Spencer in his apartment about the same subject not so long ago. “You say you’re the best goddamn profiliers in the world, but so are me and Spencer. And if, hypothetically, he'd done something, do you really think he’d leave behind any evidence?”

“You could save yourself a lot of trouble if you just tell me what I need to know.” Luke continued to plead with you.

“You need to know nothing, except for the fact Spencer and I love each other and we are in this together until the bitter end. So why don’t you hop back on the jet and leave us the fuck alone.” You spat so venomously that Luke was actually a little scared of you.

“You’ve changed.” He shook his head sadly.

“And you never will.” You pushed past him on the sidewalk, deciding to forgo Scout’s in lieu of going home.

Your blood was boiling in your veins as you marched back towards the cabin, furious at the BAU for tracking you down, angry at Luke for coming all the way out here.

But it was only the beginning.

***

“What do you want from me?” Spencer sat on the couch while Mary stood over him, wishing he weren’t still tipsy and clouded by last night's scotch.

“I want to know why two FBI agents are hiding out in our town using fake names.” She folded her arms across her chest.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried to insist but he wasn’t able to control his facial expressions the way he normally would.

“Does the name Luke Alvez mean anything to you?” She scrutinised him and Spencer fought with his expression not to give anything anyway but the scotch was in control.

“No.” He shook his head, swallowing thickly.

“Hmm, I don’t believe you.” She spoke in a sickly sweet tone. “Because I met him and he seems pretty convinced that you and Rose…or should I say Y/N are FBI agents who just dropped their whole lives and ran off without a trace.”

She met Luke? Luke is here? Why the fuck is Luke here? What the hell is happening?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He folded his arms across his bare chest.

“Let’s try this again,” she came closer to him. “And I swear to god if you’re not honest with me…”

“What? You'll do what?” He scoffed at her.

“I’ll tell everyone the truth about who you are.” She shrugged.

“And you think they’d believe you?” He chuckled. “You think they will believe a story as convoluted as this? Sweetheart, they will think you’re crazy.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Mary shrugged. “Fine, I’ll tell everyone I know that you sexually assaulted me.”

Spencer stared at her in utter horror of what she was saying but she looked nothing by smug. His heart started hammering so hard in his chest he felt even sicker than he already had done. He searched for a sign she was bluffing but saw none.

He was taken back to an interrogation room at a woman’s correctional facility. He could see her so clearly in front of him, Cat Adams telling him she was pregnant with his child. He could hear her wicked voice in his ears.

I had Lindsey dose you in Mexico. You lost time. And I gave her very specific instructions to get you in the mood.

“W-what?” He stammered. “That’s not the kind of thing you lie about.”

“Tell me the truth then.” She shrugged.

“I’m not telling you shit.” He shook his head, pushing himself up to his wobbly legs.

“Well then, I guess I’ll go. Who should I start by telling? My dad? My brothers?” She started towards the door but Spencer quickly moved and grabbed her roughly by the wrist, somehow able not to fall flat on his face.

“Listen you little bitch,” he shook her by her arm, growling in her face. “Do you have any idea how many people are actually assaulted every day? How many don’t report it because they’re scared they won’t be believed? And you want to use their real pain for your own sick gain?”

“You know you’re not helping yourself right? If you bruise me it’ll only make my story seem more believable.” She glanced at his hand on her wrist and he quickly let her go. “And don’t think I haven’t seen the bruises on your lovely wife. I’m sure she would back up my story.”

“The only story she would back up is the one where you’re a desperate little whore who shamelessly wanted to fuck a man you perceived to married.” He snapped at her.

“Well I guess we’ll see won’t we? Who’s going to believe the strange out of towner over the young, innocent girl.” She pouted.

Stop being the boy who cried rape, Spencie. It’s not a good look.

“What do you want? Why do you care who I really am? Fine, if it’s going to shut you up, yes, my name is Spencer Reid. I was an FBI agent and so was Y/N. We changed our names and left town. Why do you even care?” He sighed in exasperation.

“I guess FBI agents make pretty good money, right?” She mused and Spencer felt his stomach coil into knots at the insinuation.

“That’s what this is about? You want money?” He scoffed.

“I told you I want out of this town. I work three jobs and I am nowhere close to having enough. Finding out your little secret is the best thing that could have happened to me. So if you don’t give me what I want, I will disgrace the former FBI agent Spencer Reid and tell everyone that you raped me. Ten grand should do it.” Her smirk grew tenfold and Spencer felt the anger rising throughout his whole body.

But his brain was still clouded in a thick fog of alcohol. If he’d been at full capacity he would have easily been able to figure a way out of this, but right now all he could think of was killing Mary. The only problem with that was his guns and hunting knife were upstairs.

He could strangle her to death, feeling as she took her last breath. But he knew better, even in his state, that killing someone close to home would only come back to bite him in the ass. He’d been so careful up until now and he couldn’t ruin everything because of this stupid bitch. There had to be another way.

Mary was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, much like he was. He’d tricked everyone in this town into thinking he was just the mild mannered Andrew Burnett here with his wife to escape the big city. But in reality he was a violent killer, an injustice collector of sorts. Maybe Mary was his karma and now was his time to pay up.

“Let’s just talk about this, please?” He begged her, eyes flickering somewhere off to the side as he sensed a movement by the kitchen.

“No, no more talking.” She shook her head, clearly not noticing he was distracted. “You pay me now or I will go straight to the cops.”

If she heard the sound of the gun being cocked, it was too late. And then suddenly the reverberation of a single gunshot filled the room and the bullet pierced straight through the back of Mary’s head, exiting between her eyes and continuing into the wall next to the front door.

The last sound Mary made was a small gasp as she collapsed on the floor in a pool of her own blood at Spencer’s feet. The shock was written all across his face as he looked up at you, still holding the smoking gun in your hand.

You tucked it in your waistband and strolled closer to Spencer whose mouth was hanging open and wide eyes glared at you in a stupor.

“W-what did you…? Why did you?” He croaked out as you stepped closer, not a single hint of remorse in your eyes.

“Karma’s a bitch.” You shrugged simply. “And so was she.”

Hahaha, this is about you.

Beware, beware, be sceptical,

Of their smiles, their smiles of plated gold.

Deceit so natural,

But a wolf in sheep's clothing is more than a warning.

Baa baa, black sheep, have you any soul?

No sir, by the way, what the hell are morals?

Jack be nimble, Jack be quick,

Jill's a little whore, and her alibis are dirty tricks.

So could you,

Tell me how you're sleeping easy,

How you're only thinking of yourself.

Show me how you justify,

Telling all your lies like second nature.

Listen, mark my words, one day (one day),

You will pay, you will pay.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt.

Aware, aware, you stalk your prey,

With criminal mentality.

You sink your teeth into the people you depend on,

Infecting everyone, you're quite the problem.

Fee-fi-fo-fum, you better run and hide,

I smell the blood of a petty little coward.

Jack be lethal, Jack be slick,

Jill will leave you lonely, dying in a filthy ditch.

So could you,

Tell me how you're sleeping easy,

How you're only thinking of yourself.

Show me how you justify,

Telling all your lies like second nature.

Listen, mark my words, one day (one day),

You will pay, you will pay.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt.

Maybe you'll change,

Abandon all your wicked ways,

Make amends and start anew again.

Maybe you'll see,

All the wrongs you did to me,

And start all over, start all over again.

Who am I kidding?

Now, let's not get overzealous here,

You've always been a huge piece of shit.

If I could kill you, I would,

But it's frowned upon in all fifty states.

Having said that, burn in hell, yeah.

Oh, oh, oh.

So tell me how you're sleeping easy,

How you're only thinking of yourself.

Show me how you justify,

Telling all your lies like second nature.

Listen, mark my words, one day (one day),

You will pay, you will pay.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt.

@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom

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