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#luke: of coarse
mischiefmoons · 9 days
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its 10pm again.... 😈😈
rivals with benefits Luke who makes everything a competition. even in bed. 😼
IM ALSO SO SORRY FOR FLOODING UR INBOX
MDNI
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
a/n: liv we're boxing because i literally could not rest until i got this right,,,, smut. public sex. wrap before you tap. creampie. all the nasty things. fuck man...
wc: 968
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“That’s a point for me,” Luke says with a menacing grin. The both of you are soaked to the bone after paddling across Canoe Lake to see who could make it to the other end the fastest, and as you gasp for air while holding onto the wood post of the pier, you can’t help but somehow be convinced that he cheated.
“You’re built like a frog with those long legs of yours, how the fuck was I supposed to win?”
Daybreak spreads slowly across Camp Half-Blood, sunlight kissing where the sky meets the water and Luke thinks he wants to kiss you. Knows it, actually—deep down to his bones that the line between hatred and love must be lust.
He swims closer to you like a predator creeping toward his prey, wet curls stuck to his forehead as he admires how hard you’re breathing. You’re right there, and since you like to make a competition of everything from capture the flag strategies to how many campers you both can get to screech at nightly sing-a-longs, he thinks he has an offer you won’t be able to resist. Luke’s hands glide under your shirt as the both of you tread water, still fighting for dominance even when it comes to who takes up the most space to stay afloat. You lick your lips, fingers tugging at his camp necklace as you look at him curiously and raise an eyebrow.
“I’ve got an idea…”
“I’ll start my prayers,” you smirk, before seeing the hot burning want in his gaze. You can feel it in his fingers as they brush the underside of your breasts, nipples stiff in the frigid water. Shaking your head, a nervous giggle leaves you as your arms circle his neck, bodies separated by your thin, sopping nightshirt. If he touches the rest of you, he’ll find other parts that are wet too, warm enough to brave the chill of the morning breeze that settles upon your shoulders.
“The nymphs might see…” you whisper, even though the both of you know not a single soul is awake right now but time is running out like sand in an hourglass.
“You backing down?”
The kiss you press into his open mouth is a clear enough answer—tongues sliding and spearing against each other, hot and angry and bruising. It’s a fair shot, not knowing who’s going to come out on top.
“Oh, gods, please!”
Your hands and knees are scraping in the rocks and sand of the shoreline underneath the pier as Luke pistons into you at an alarming rate, each thrust a blow to your senses. He watches your head bob up towards the sky almost in reverent prayer and he’s grinning, continually sinking into your warmth while the rest of him shudders from the cold. Luke’s cock works inside your slick hole instead of against it, and he laughs at the irony of you finally letting him have his way. Your fingernails dig into the coarse beach, grains of sand making their way through every crevice as he fills your pulsing one with glee.
“Fucking knew you’d behave…” he grunts, one hand pulling at the thin cloth around your waist and the other holds onto your stomach so he can feel himself bludgeon you from the inside. “Can’t fight back when you’re getting your brains fucked out, hmm?” 
He watches your pretty tits swing from the stretched out opening of your soggy shirt as you choke out a sob of pleasure.
“Yes…f-fuck Luke,” you whine, reaching back to ease your hand against his abdomen but he pulls it behind your back to use as a better hold on you. Luke puts two of his fingers in your mouth and they prod at the skin of your cheek, spit dripping around the digits.
Despite the intrusion, you’re groaning loud enough over the icy smacks against your skin that for a moment he thinks it might actually wake the forest nymphs, but then he’s distracted by your pussy pushing and pulling him as his hips clap against your ass, leaving them raw for days to come. Light waves crash against the shore with your movements, splashing against your knees and you’re giggling at him with a dazed grin as you push your hips back harder against his thrusts, overpowering his control over you. 
He swallows thickly, groaning through the building sensation in his stomach as you rock back onto his cock faster and with the purpose of taking him down and winning. The both of you work in tandem as you writhe against each other in a battle to reach the end, unsure of if you’re with him or against him but gods, it feels so fucking good being under him.
“M’so close…Don’t fucking stop,” you shudder, and Luke shuts his eyes hard and takes a deep breath. Even if all 12 Olympians came down right now to smite him he wouldn’t be able to pull out. 
So he doesn’t. 
He couldn’t even if he tried—he cums so hard, his front meeting your back as you fall into the sand with a muffled yelp and he’s pumping thick rods of his release into your pussy. You shiver under him slightly until you realize your belly is warm from his efforts.
“That’s gotta be like 5 or 10 points,” Luke pants, nipping at your shoulder before he sits up. You’re laying there, ass up and motionless so he slaps a cheek before you start laughing.
“For me. At least you came,” you drone, having been on the brink of an orgasm.
He couldn’t argue with that. So he flips you onto your back and eats you out (sand and slick and all) until he’s ready again and by the time the morning bell rings, you’ve both lost track of who’s won your so-called competition.
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nymerias-high-garden · 2 months
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REQUESTING DARK!LUKE BC I NEED MORE FICS W HIMMMM. SO IMAGINE LUKE KIDNAPPING THE READER IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND SHE'S JUST ALL MOODY/PISSED OFF ABT IT BUT CANT DO ANYTHING BC SHE'S CHAINED AND HER MOUTH IS COVERED SO SHE GLARES AT HIM? (FEM MC PLS BTW!)🤭🤭🤭
'Shadowed Descent'
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(?)Dark!Luke Castellan x Fem!Reader
A/N:Hi lovely!Sure I can(or at least try),tysm for requesting!
As you lay in your bed, drifting on the cusp of sleep,the faint murmur of the forest outside lulled you into a false sense of security,until suddenly, you were jolted awake by a hand clamping over your mouth and a sharp, metallic scent assaulting your senses.
Before you could even register what was happening, you found yourself being dragged out of bed, your limbs bound tightly by coarse rope. Panic surged through you as you struggled against your captor, but it was futile. The figure dragging you through the darkness was strong, too strong for you to break free.
Finally, you were thrust into a dimly lit clearing, where the moonlight cast eerie shadows over the scene. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized with a sinking feeling that your captor was none other than Luke Castellan-The ever so famous hero turned traitor, his dark eyes gleaming with a mixture of malice and amusement.
"You!" you hissed, your voice muffled by the hand still covering your mouth.
Luke merely smirked in response, his grip tightening on your arm as he pulled you closer. "Shh, now, no need for all that noise," he purred, his voice dripping with false sweetness.
You shot him a withering glare, but he seemed unfazed, his smirk only growing wider. "Feisty, feisty," he chuckled, leaning in closer until his face was mere inches from yours. "I like that about you."
You tried to turn away, to escape his piercing gaze, but his hand tightened on your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. "You know," he continued, his voice dropping to a low whisper, "I've been watching you for a while now. You're different from the others. More... intriguing."
You squirmed under his gaze, a shiver running down your spine as his words sent a chill through you. "What do you want from me?" you demanded, your voice barely more than a whisper.
Luke's smirk widened into a grin, his eyes glittering with dark amusement. "Oh, darling, I want so much more than you could ever imagine," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "But for now, let's just say I have plans for you. Big plans..." to which you hissed "Plans?What.plans?!Castellan!"
Luke leans back slightly, his grin still lingering on his lips as he gazes at you with an enigmatic expression. "Let's just say they involve you being a part of something much bigger than yourself," he says cryptically, "But for now, it's best you focus on enjoying the moment,darling."
You watched in horror as he approached, his movements predatory as he traced a finger along your jawline.
"You're mine now," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "And there's nothing you can do about it."
You spat at him, your defiance unyielding even in the face of danger. But Luke only chuckled darkly, his grip tightening around you as he pressed his lips against yours in a mocking kiss.
You struggled against your bonds, desperate to break free from his grasp, but it was no use. Luke held you firmly in place, his grip unyielding as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. "Sleep tight, sweetheart," he whispered,checking your bonds and making sure you couldn't move nor speak now,before disappearing into the darkness, leaving you alone and bound,with nothing but his laughter ringing in your ears.
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sc0tters · 8 months
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Different Paths | Jack Hughes
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summary: 5 times Jack and your paths ran parallel to each other and the one time they finally became perpendicular.
song: Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince
request: yes/no
warnings: none.
word count: 1.61k
authors note: this is officially the end of the 150 celly! I struggled to write this one but I’m very happy with where it ended up. Thanks for all of the love and support that it’s been given and we’ve only just gotten started.
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His brother’s best friend was all Jack was never meant to see you as.
Luke had always been your best friend, you were like tweedle-dee and tweedle-dumb whenever you were around each other. The friendship started when you were four and it was around a similar time that your feelings for Jack begun.
Of course though at that age they were simply because a pretty boy looked at you.
1.
Luke and you were in the kitchen as you ate the berries that Ellen had cut up for you two. Jack walked in with some of his friends from hockey as it caused you to grow nervous “hey Luke,” the middle Hughes boy had a grin on his face as he realised that he could screw with his brother. You turned pink as Jack locked eyes with you, it shouldn’t have been something you were okay with but the older Hughes boy always caused your heart rate to increase.
You smiled “h-hi Jack,” the boy sent you a wink as he stuck his hand into Luke’s container “mom!” Luke groaned as he watched his brother take half of his fruit.
Jack laughed as he shoved the sweet fruit into his mouth “get your own fruit!” The youngest Hughes boy added as he wasn’t impressed.
A soft voice left your lips “you can have some of mine Jack.” You offered as you held out your container with a smile.
The middle Hughes boy couldn’t help it when his heart felt warm, you were always just so sweet “no thanks sweets.” He shook his head as he ruffled his hand in your hair,
For now Luke was going to have to sit there and watch the way his best friend looked at his brother.
2.
Quinn was like the big brother you never had, he always knew what to say and when to say it to you.
That’s what brought you on the couch as you told him about all of your life worries.
You should have felt stupid as jealously coarsed through your veins at the thought of Jack with that girl from down the road. It was stupid, yes you knew it was but as you could hear her laughs from the other room you almost wanted to scream “I know it’s crazy,” you mumbled as you crossed your arms slouching back into the couch cushions.
It was tough trying to remain calm “it’s not crazy at all,” Quinn shook his head as he placed a kiss on your temple.
Jack had seen the whole thing go down as he was meant to get himself and his new friend a drink. As much as he appreciated how comfortable you felt with Quinn he just wished that you’d be like that with him.
The way you were an open book with his older brother made him long for a day when he could be like that with you, even with something a little more.
3.
You must have fifteen at the time, everyone was back in the lake house just how they were every summer “you coming or what?” Quinn called out as you had been soaking in the sunshine as you lay in your swimsuit “where to?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you got up and held your hand up to your forehead to block the sunlight.
Trevor let out a low whistle as he saw yours bounce in the bikini top that you were in “stop looking at her like that,” Jack sent the older boy a glare as he joined in the watch party.
Puberty had truly hit you like a truck over the last year. Your breasts had gone up two cup sizes, your waist was now more pronounced as your ass was rounded.
Jack knew it was wrong of him to see you in the light that he was, but he simply couldn’t help it “don’t be jealous cause you didn’t say it first.” Trevor warned as he shrugged smirking as you walked onto the boat “got a space next to me for ya sweets,” he offered as he patted the cushion next to him.
Luke gagged as he heard the shameless flirting come from his lips “I’ll sit with Luke.” You shook your head “thanks though Trev,” Jack felt like the Cheshire Cat when you sat in between the two boys.
The middle Hughes smiled as you looked at him “hi,” your own smile was now clear as you had also just lost your braces just weeks before the lake house.
His hand danced over your knee “hey sweets.” Jack had given you the nickname because you always had a sweet tooth, Trevor was the first one who chose to steal it.
4.
Just like always you were dragged along to watch Jack play hockey, it was your families Friday night tradition as you were always in the crowd to watch him play.
Luke had his arm around your shoulder as the two of you made your way into the players area “I’m gonna go say hi to them,” Luke explained as he gave you a soft squeeze before he walked over to his coaches.
You weren’t left for long though as Jack found you “hey sweets,” he smiled as he held his arms out.
He was still sweaty as he was in his gear and still in his skates “like seeing you this tall,” you joked as you let out a laugh.
The boy scoffed “I’m always tall,” he mumbled as he furrowed his eyebrows.
Everyone watched on with a sense of curiosity as you reached up to brush some of the hair out of his face “keep telling yourself that,” an amused smirk spread across your face.
Ellen knew all about your crush on her son, it was hard not to. The way your eyes lit up when you saw him, or how your cheeks would grow hot whenever he’d touch you. She also knew that her son felt similar to you because of the lingering glances that were always sent to and from each of you. It was amusing how clueless Luke was as he never seemed to notice how this was the worst kept secret that you two had.
5.
The big day for you and Luke had finally come. You two were officially graduates from high school. Since you arrived at school that morning you hadn’t seen Luke because you were both so apart from each other in terms of your last name.
So naturally when the ceremony ended you both ran back to your families who had been sat together “woah there sweets,” Jack smiled as you bumped into his back.
Your cheeks turned pink “sorry Jack,” you were quick to apologise as you brushed your hair out of your face,
The boy hooked his fingers under your jaw “I’m proud of you,” he confessed as he softly pinched your chin “high honours and all,” he added as his fingers brushed over the scarfs that you had gotten.
A toothy grin formed on your face “‘m more than just a pretty face,” you joked as a soft laugh fell from your lips.
His reaction mimicked yours “you have been,” Jack mumbled as you practically melted into his touch.
“Y/n!” Luke called out totally unaware of the sight in front of him as you whipped your head around.
It was like clockwork, you ran into Luke’s arms as you tackled him in a hug.
That was a constant reminder that Luke was always going to be first in your life.
+1
You always enjoyed laying on the boat as it was still docked. It gave you place to simply just think, and the boat rocking in the water was always soothing “thought I’d find you here.” Jack smiled as he jumped onto the boat.
The quietness that you loved was now gone, not that you were complaining though as you patted the cushion next to you “didn’t know you were looking for me,” you mumbled as you had almost fallen asleep so you let out a yawn.
It brought a chuckle from his lips “don’t tell me I’m boring you already?” He joked as he watched you shake your head.
Jack grew comfortable in his seat next to you “you’d never bore me,” you confessed as you shook your head.
His hand moved to your knee as he grew nervous. It was a feeling that Jack wasn’t used to usually, it was something he only grew to know about when it came to you.
It would have made you melt if you knew the way he thought about you. Your heart was full in that very moment, despite the fact that Luke was so far away. In fact maybe that’s what made you feel at ease, it made you not feel as guilty about your feelings for the boy in front of you.
The air around you two was dense as the tension could have been cut “what are you thinking about?” You asked as you turned to face him, your lips dangerously close to his.
He smiled “thinking about kissing you,” Jack confessed as he let his filter get thrown out of the window.
You giggled as a grin came across your face “thinking you should do it then,” you could barely get that statement out of your mouth before Jacks lips were on your own. Your sweet cherry lipgloss invaded his taste buds as he let his hand move to the back of your neck not wanting to lose you just yet as he let out a groan pulling you onto his lap.
“Always knew my sweets would taste so good.”
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zepskies · 11 days
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Take Me Home - Part 3
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Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 
Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 
AN: I’m being continuously blown away by your lovely responses on this story. Thank you so much! I truly appreciate all the love for our cowboy sheriff and where TMH is going.
Word Count: 6.6K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, a heart-to-heart, flirtations, and invitations taken…
❤️ Series Masterlist
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Part 3: Welcome Home
In the next twenty-four hours after Mary was found, the police’s investigation led them to a man named Walter. He’d been living in the woods, and was suspected of stalking the camp for days. 
He was arrested as a prime suspect in Mary’s murder at Sunny Day Excursions, along with Paige’s; even though they’d yet to find her body, the police did confirm that she'd never made it home to New York.
They also found Luke later that night. His body was pierced to a tree by an archer’s arrow. 
The campers were sent home shortly after Walter was arrested. 
And three days later, your aunt Denise gingerly took a seat on the edge of the couch you’d been lying in all day (and all week so far). She swept her fingers over your greasy hair in both comfort and affection. 
Denise Brisbane was your mom’s sister. She was a private investigator here in Helena. And as you found out, she actually worked with Cassie Dewell, the woman you’d met at the camp, who was still in search of a missing backpacker.
“You’ve barely moved in days, honey,” Denise said.
Her face was sympathetic and sad, watching you. Though you felt the sting of guilt, feeling like a burden that had just been unloaded on your aunt, you didn’t want to leave your warm blankets. Your body felt heavy and useless.
“Good news though. The rest of your stuff ships in tomorrow,” she said, continuing to pet your hair. “I’ll help you move into your new apartment. How does that sound?”
You gave a weak nod. “Thanks.”
She sighed. “I’m not trying to kick you out, hun. I just think it’ll be good for you to start getting on your feet.”
You agreed, wordlessly. In your head, you knew she was right. You couldn’t sleep on her couch forever, and perhaps more importantly, you couldn’t let this beat you down forever.
“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Denise asked, squeezing your shoulder. “Your mom wanted to get the first flight out here, but I told her I’d take care of you until you go home for the funeral.”
You were grateful for that. As much as you loved your mother, you didn’t want to be smothered right now. Your mom’s version of comfort could only include a heavy dose of smothering. The one thing you had been able to do was call Mary’s parents.
That had been a long and painful conversation. After which, you slept like the dead for two days straight.
Denise broke you out of your wandering thoughts when she handed you a business card. It had a banyan tree emblazoned on it, along with the name of a grief counseling center.
“Cassie’s actually been going here, and she’s liked it so far,” she said.
At your furrowed look of confusion, she added, “Look, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me, but I think it would be good for you to talk to someone. Maybe someone who understands what you’re going through.”
You sighed and flipped the card through your fingers. You really, really didn’t want to go. You could already what your father would say if he knew you went to a grief counselor. His form of “therapy” was the growing collection of bourbon behind his desk.   
But if it meant you’d stop being a lump in your aunt’s living room, then maybe you could give it a shot.
“Okay,” you nodded. Your voice was a bit coarse with disuse. Denise gave you a smile, and a warm hug that felt like home. She even offered to make your appointment for you.
You were a little annoyed though. Now you’d have to actually get up and put on a bra.
“Maybe shower first, huh?” she advised, while she helped you get up.
“Yeah, yeah,” you replied.
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A hot shower, washing and styling your hair, putting real clothes on, and overall making yourself presentable actually made you feel human again. You even surprised yourself by putting on a bit of makeup.
Once you made it to the grief counseling center in your car, however, you sat in the parking lot for a minute. You had to take a moment to breathe. Because you knew you were going to be asked what happened. You were going to have to get into it all over again.
Even after you were able to leave your car and brave through the carpeted halls of the building, your hands were shaking. At the reception desk, an older woman directed you down another long hallway to the group session. It was the only one available on short notice, but she promised that if you found the session helpful, she could help you book another group session, or even a solo session.
You weren’t sure if you were ready for “solo,” but a group appealed to you. Maybe you could just sit in the back and let the others talk.
The counselor, Tom, greeted you when you walked into the right room. It was a small room with a bunch of chairs formed in a circle at the center. No room to hide, you thought with growing unease. You glanced over and saw that there were a few people already milling about, making small talk in a cluster near the circle.
“We’re gonna start here in a few minutes, but until then, you can take a seat,” said Tom. “There’s also coffee and cookies over there, if you like.”
Coffee. Coffee was warm, and it might settle your nerves and help you perk up a bit. You thanked him and went for the carafes on a small table in the back. You poured some coffee into a Styrofoam cup and poured a little sugar and creamer into it, but after you took an experimental sip, you immediately regretted it.
Tastes like damn soil water! You made a grossed out sound and spat it back into your cup.
“Yeah, wouldn’t recommend the joe,” drawled a familiar voice. 
You turned sharply to find Sheriff Beau Arlen. He gave you a sympathetic look as he reached for a cup of water. Seeing him took you by such surprise, you gasped with a slight flinch, accidentally spilling some scalding coffee on yourself in the process. 
You held the cup away from you fast, but a few drops still flecked on your jeans, and even his boots. 
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you gasped again. Beau just smiled good-naturedly and grabbed a few napkins off the table.
“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m the one who snuck up on you. Accidentally, I might add.”
He handed you the napkins so you could soak up the coffee from your hand and arm. Meanwhile, he took your half-empty coffee cup and tossed it in the garbage. Your damp wad of napkins joined the cup.
And when you finally looked up at him again, you both found yourselves smiling, despite where you were. It was the first time you’d been able to smile in days.
“Sheriff Arlen,” you greeted. “I did not expect to see you here…”
His smile faltered at that, but his hand reached back to sort through his short hair at the back of his head. 
“Ah, call me Beau,” he said. “I have a feeling we’re about to get to know each other better.”
You agreed to that, just as you agreed to join him for a seat within the circle of chairs. He leaned back in his chair and swept a hand through his hair again, perhaps in a nervous gesture. You glanced over at him, saw the way he smoothed a hand down his jeans when his knee started bouncing…
Could he be as anxious as you? You had to wonder why he was here, for grief counseling of all things. The thought sobered you as more people filtered in and took their seats. Tom eventually got things started from his spot across from you in the circle.
“Okay, we’ve got a couple of first timers to this group session, so tell you what,” he said. “Let’s go around, introduce ourselves, and share something interesting. Whether it’s what you do for a living, a new hobby you picked up, or keeping it even more simple, something fun you did this week.”
You looked down at the folded hands in your lap. If binge watching entire seasons of Succession and sleeping until noon every day counted as something fun, then you were all set.
The introductions started to his left, so it took a while before it got around to you. There was that little flutter of nerves in your stomach, like you were a kid again, and it was the first day of school (but worse).
Luckily, Beau was before you. You were curious about what he would share as he let out a subtle clearing of his throat.
“Hi there, I’m Beau Arlen. Some of you know me as the new sheriff over at Helena PD.” He greeted everyone with a short wave, though he tossed you a smiling glance. “You might also be able to tell that I’m from Texas. Born and bred in Houston. I moved up here to stay close to my daughter, who’s living here with her mother…my ex-wife.”
He tacked on that last bit after a slight pause. But he recovered quicker than you could process and gestured to you next. You forced yourself to perk up, putting your “teacher’s hat” on as you tried to meet everyone’s eyes. First, you gave them your name.
“I’m also from out of town, from Chicago,” you said, glancing at Beau. His expression was encouraging. It gave you the small boost you didn’t know you needed. “I’m a college professor, formerly of the University of Chicago…but I start at Caroll College in the fall.”
Beau’s brows rose as his lips twitched upwards. You tried not to blush as you passed on the introductions to the next person.
The session itself was light overall. Tom talked about the stress that often came with the unknown—with moving past a challenging time, or tackling a new project, or even moving to a new and unfamiliar city. He didn’t force everyone to chime in about themselves, but the ones who were ready to share took the floor one by one. And by the end, you thought that you’d gleaned some useful tidbits just by listening.
Hell, maybe you’d even come back here.
When the session was over though, you were kind of relieved. You grabbed your purse and got up to leave.
“Well, that was relatively painless,” Beau said, also getting up from his seat.
“Yeah, wasn’t so bad,” you replied. Your name fell from his lips in the form of a question, earning your expectant gaze.
“Listen, uh, can I buy you a real cup of coffee?” he offered. “We might not have met under the best of circumstances, but I just heard recently that you’re Denise’s niece. Well, I’m friends with the gals over at Dewell & Hoyt, your aunt included, so I just thought it’d be good to get to know each other, being that we’re both kinda new in town, and—”
You set a light hand on his arm. That one touch was able to stop his rambling, along with the sight of your amused smile up at him.
“Coffee sounds great,” you said.
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You decided there was no real harm in meeting him at the nearest coffee shop, just a few minutes away.
It was hard not to associate the sheriff with that terrible night at the camp, but you knew that wasn’t fair to him. He seemed like a nice guy, and by the way he talked about his daughter, maybe even a good man.
In your experience, a good man was hard to find.
“So, what do you teach exactly?” Beau asked. He’d just finished telling you about Emily starting a summer internship with Cassie and Denise at the private investigation agency. Like father like daughter, you’d remarked. Beau’s soft, but proud smile had been telling.
“English literature,” you replied to his question, sipping at your cappuccino. He was drinking a hot French vanilla latte, which kind of amused you. You had expected him to order an Americano or something.   
“Oh, yeah? What sort of classes?” he said.  
“The greatest hits, basically,” you explained. “Composition, English grammar, Shakespeare…Twentieth Century British Literature.”
“Oh, is that all?” he chuckled. It charmed a smile out of you. 
“I don’t know why I asked. I didn’t even go to college,” Beau said. It finally succeeded in making you laugh.
“Straight to the police academy, then?” you asked.
“Like a cannonball, heels a blazin’,” he said, miming a gunshot with his hand. 
“Like a rhinestone cowboy,” you teased. And you felt brave enough to hum the riff of the Glen Campbell song. 
Beau shook his head with a grin. He’d seen you, all tightened up and anxious throughout the group session, even though it had been pretty lightweight. He could relate to your discomfort. He’d made a conscious effort to talk very little about himself and gave the others the room to tell their stories.
Beau liked seeing you more relaxed though. He liked your smile, the glimpses of your sense of humor shining through. He liked that he was somehow able to bring that out of you for a while. 
“I still can’t believe you're Denise’s niece,” he said, once again shaking his head. “What a small world.”
“Yeah. I’ve been crashing on her couch for the past week,” you admitted. “But I have the rest of summer to settle into my new apartment, starting tomorrow. I’ve got my whole life shipping in on a truck.”
Beau nodded at that. He contemplated whether it’d be appropriate for him to offer you some help with that. The question was on the tip of his tongue, until he saw the way your mood saddened. You sat contemplating your coffee mug.
“I asked her to come,” you confessed. When your eyes met his, they shone with the beginning of unshed tears. “The camping trip was Mary’s idea, but I asked her to come with me to Helena for the week. She wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.”
Beau let out a deep breath and met you with a more somber, understanding gaze. 
“It wasn’t your fault,” he said. He was reminded that they had Walter in custody. He wasn’t yet willing to break and confess to the murders at Sunny Day Excursions, but they had him.
“I promise, we’ll get justice for Mary,” Beau added. You sighed and wiped a tear from your cheek.
“Do you think you have the right man?” you asked, speaking of Walter.
“I do,” Beau replied. “He’s being stubborn, but all the evidence points to him.”
You nodded gratefully, but you had to try and breathe through your tumultuous emotions, the way your heart was cracking with pain. You didn’t want to break down in the middle of a damn coffee shop.
Again, Beau wrestled with the inclination to cover his hand over yours. He felt like he was toeing the line between his professional capacity as a sheriff, and the fact that you were his friend’s niece. He wanted to comfort you the best he could. But sometimes, words just weren’t enough.
You took a half-hearted sip of your coffee. By now, it was lukewarm, if still tasty and sweet. It was healthier than whiskey, you supposed.
“She was like…like my sister, you know?” you said. “I feel like I failed her.”
Beau shook his head, his dark brows furrowing. He didn’t know how many times he could say it wasn’t your fault, knowing you probably wouldn’t ever believe it.
That struck a familiar bell.
“Look, I uh…I understand what you’re going through,” he admitted. Your watery gaze found his again. Your head tilted in interest.
He sighed before answering your unspoken question. “I lost my partner on the job, now a couple years back.”
“I’m sorry,” you replied, and your sympathy was as genuine as his had been for you. “I’m guessing you two were close.”
Beau’s lips quirked at one corner. “He was like my brother. Matter of fact, I think it used to make my own brother jealous.”
You processed that with a sad frown, though your brows soon rose in curiosity.
“You have a brother?”
“Yep,” Beau nodded. The brief shadows in his eyes lifted at the merciful change of topic. “Good ole’ David. I still call him Davey, even though he hates it.”
A smile played on your lips. “Older or younger?”
“Younger, by a few years,” he replied. There was a more natural gleam to his smile then. “He’s a hotshot doctor back in Houston.”
He teased, but you could see there was pride behind his eyes. It reminded you of the way he got whenever he talked about Emily.
“So you know my story. What brought you to Montana?” he asked. He wanted to see if he could help you get your mind off Mary. He didn’t know that he’d just pulled the pin on a whole other grenade. 
You let out a wry chuckle. 
“Uh, oh,” Beau said warily. 
You nodded. He did tell you his story—ex-wife with a new husband, daughter, a new job in Montana—though you still didn’t know why he was going to grief counseling. If it was because of his partner, you could understand that…but you also didn’t want to pry.
You also knew it was only fair to answer his question.
“It’s not exactly like your situation but…I was engaged,” you said at last. 
Past tense, he noted. 
“Good guy?” he asked. 
“A firefighter,” you replied. Though you knew well the rivalry that sometimes existed between cops and firefighters. Beau’s growing bemusement told you he was thinking along the same lines. 
“Ah, a smoke eater, huh?” But his smile faded. “Did something happen to him on the job?”
“No,” you said, again with that weary chuckle. It was hard for you to get this out, but you’d been wrestling with it for over six months, damn near a year. It was enough. 
“Just a couple months before the wedding, I found out he’d been cheating on me with his college girlfriend…pretty much throughout our whole relationship,” you said. 
Though you promised yourself that you’d never cry over this again, today had already been incredibly difficult. The tears came, and you couldn’t stop them. 
Beau's brows had risen high in surprise. Then, a deeper sympathy settled in his eyes.
“Jesus. How long?” he asked.
“We were together three years, engaged for about another one,” you said. “Almost four years of my life, just…”
You mimed a puff of smoke blowing out of your hand. 
“Yeah. I know the feeling,” Beau said. His tone was wry as he dragged a hand over his beard. You gave him an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry. I know my story doesn’t compare with a marriage,” you said.
“That’s not what I was gettin’ at,” he replied. “But I get it. You start to think, what the hell was it all for? …Except for my daughter.”
“Yeah. Unfortunately, I don’t have an Emily,” you said. At the same time though, you were very glad you never had kids with that man.
Beau frowned when he saw the way your face fell further, becoming distant, and lost in old memories. 
“Afterwards, I…I checked out, you know? I could barely focus on my students, my family, my friends.” Your nails drummed on the countertop. You shook your head as it all filtered through your mind again. “But the last straw was that my dad tried to get me to work things out with him, and I just…I lost it. Beau, I absolutely lost my shit.”
Beau grimaced. “What made your dad think that would work?”
“He’s a retired firehouse chief,” you said, with a purse of your lips. “He’s always had a soft spot for Michael.”
“Michael, huh?” Beau quirked a brow. “That come with a last name?”
You shot him a look of amusement. 
“What, are you going to run his LUDS?” you joked, but you couldn’t prevent a sniffle as a new wave of emotion threatened an upswell.
You felt pathetic. This man was the whole-ass sheriff of this town. He probably had more important things to do than listen to you complain about your imploded relationship. But you were also Denise’s niece. Maybe he just felt sorry for you.
He offered you a napkin. “Sorry it’s not a tissue.”
In his eyes though, you didn’t see pity. Just kindness.
“It’s okay. I can brave a scratchy napkin,” you said, laughing a little. “But after that, I knew one of two things was going to happen. Either I was going to break open my dad’s gun safe and shoot the bastard in the ass, or I had to get the hell out of Chicago. My mom and Aunt Denise suggested I come here for a visit, just to clear my head. That turned into scoping out jobs, and then apartments… Now I’m here.”
That fell between you for a moment as your companion processed it all. In hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have mentioned that whole bit about possibly shooting your ex, but he took it in stride. 
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you are,” Beau said. “Here, that is.”
You couldn’t help but blush; at his words, the deep green of his eyes, and the sincerity of his smile.
“Likewise, Sheriff,” you said.
He smirked. “Also glad you didn’t go shootin’ people in the ass.” 
You covered your face and laughed. 
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Beau walked you to your car like the gentleman he was, even though it was only late afternoon. You opened the driver’s side door, but you lingered there. You turned back to him, curling a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Thanks for the coffee, and for letting me ramble, and vent, and soak up a few dozen napkins,” you said. You laughed a little in embarrassment, but he waved it off.
“It wasn’t as bad as all that, but good luck movin’ into your apartment tomorrow,” he said. Then it was his turn to hesitate. “If you need some help with that, just let me know.”
You blinked, mouth parting in soft surprise.
“Oh, thank you but…I don’t want to trouble you,” you said.
“You wouldn’t be. That’s why I offered,” he replied, smiling down at you in a way that had you melting a little bit more. “I’ve got an early shift tomorrow, but after, I could probably pull in Cassie. Maybe even Jenny, if she’s up for it. She’s one of our deputies at the PD.”
Beau recognized your hesitance.
“It wouldn’t be any trouble, I promise,” he said, holding a hand over his heart. “We’ve gotta welcome you to the neighborhood, don’t we?”
You were still a little unsure, but you agreed to it with a thank you, along with a more shy, sweet smile.
Beau liked that smile too.
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Later that day, Beau remembered it was his turn to host the ritual movie night Friday with Cassie and Jenny. His trailer was too small to have it inside, so they set up Cassie’s projector out in front, by the fire. According to his friends, he was going about the night with too much cheer.
“You’re entirely too smiley to have just come from an afternoon of therapy,” Jenny pointed out. She uncapped her second beer, then passed him the bucket. He waved her off; he was still nursing his first beer of the night. If he stuck to his plan, then it’d be his only beer of the night.
“Aw, it wasn’t so bad, actually,” he said. He explained that you had been there at the group session. The moment your name was mentioned, Cassie and Jenny both raised their brows.
“Really?” Cassie remarked.
“Yeah. Losing her friend really shook her up. Understandably,” Beau said. His gaze lowered when he played through his afternoon with you in his mind. Though your situations were different, both in your lost friends and lost relationships, he realized just how much he’d understood and connected with a near stranger.
That kind of thing didn’t happen to him often, if ever before.
“But, she’s actually moving into her new place tomorrow,” he added, breaking himself out of his own head. “Speakin’ of, would you two have the time to help her and Denise out? I already said I would come by after shift tomorrow.”
Cassie and Jenny shared a certain look—the kind these women donned when they were having a private conversation with just their eyes. This time, it seemed to be about him.
“What?” he asked, his hands spreading wide.
“Nothing,” Cassie said, smiling. “Sure, I can come.”
“Yeah,” Jenny agreed, “barring nothing too crazy happens on shift.”
Beau inclined his head. “Knock on wood there. Anyway, what’re we watching?”
“Crazy, Stupid Love,” Jenny grinned, holding up the DVD cover. “For Ryan Gosling, of course.”
Beau rolled his eyes.
A few months ago, he wouldn’t have expected that he’d make friends with exclusively women in this town, but he only complained about it in times like these.
Though as it turned out, he enjoyed the movie. There were as many hilarious scenes as there were poignant ones. By the end of the night though, he was beat.
Jenny helped with the cleanup, but she ended up taking off first. It left Beau to put away the fold-up chairs with Cassie.
“So, tell me,” she said, in a leading tone and with a teasing smile. “You crushing on Glamper Girl for real now?”
Beau shot her a wry look.
“She’s not a glamper anymore,” he pointed out. “And I’m not crushing like some teenager. I just want to help her out. She’s been through a lot…and she’s Denise’s family. It’s just the right thing to do.”
Cassie laughed. “That’s a lot of over-explaining you’re doing right there, but okay, Beau.” 
He rolled his eyes, but he had to smile. “Okay, that’s it. I’m gonna have to insist you get off my property.”
“Off what, your tin can?” she retorted.
“Hey! She can hear you.”
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Beau wiped the sweat from his brow strategically while he carried his end (the heavier end, he might add) of your couch. He and Jenny were trying to get it up the stairwell to your apartment on the second floor.
“Okay now, just pivot on this corner,” he instructed. “Pivot!”
 Jenny nearly dropped her end out of sheer aggravation. Her blue eyes cut down to his.
“If you say pivot one more time, I’m gonna shoot you,” she snapped.
Beau whistled in amusement. “Threatening to shoot the sheriff. Now that’s at least a misdemeanor.”
Right as he could almost see the fumes coming out of his deputy’s ears, you hustled up the stairs to help them. You picked up the middle to make it easier.
“Okay, we can do this! I think we can just tip it on its side to get it around the corner,” you said.
To everyone’s relief, your suggestion worked. Denise held the door open while the three of you got the couch up to the second floor, then into your apartment. Once the couch was successfully in the living room, you went to the kitchen and grabbed a few bottles of water out of the fridge. You handed one each to Beau and Jenny.
“Thank you guys again so much for doing this,” you said, still catching your breath. You surveyed all the boxes and furniture you all had brought in, and you realized you were crazy to think you and Denise could’ve done all of this by yourselves.
“It’s our pleasure,” Beau nodded. He gestured to his sweating face and neck. “But do you have a towel or a rag or something? You’re about to be mopping me off the floor in a minute.”
“Yeah, of course. Hold on,” you said. You went back into the kitchen and retrieved a clean hand towel. Beau used it to dry his face, neck, and the top of his chest.
You tried not to stare at the flash of tan skin near the collar of his plain gray shirt, or the wet spots clinging to his back. The sleeves were tight around his arms and across his chest, leading you to believe that despite being in his mid-forties, he kept himself in shape. 
Meanwhile, Jenny drank her water, and pretended not to notice you staring at her boss. Part of her was amused, but a good part of her felt an unfamiliar sting as well.
“Okay,” Beau clapped a hand on his jean-clad thigh after he drained his own water bottle. “What’s next?”
Your face warmed, because you knew what your aunt was about to say before she said it.
“Oh, I think it’s just your bed, right honey?” she asked you.
“All right, let’s do it. Frame, headboard, box spring, and mattress, I assume,” Beau said, rubbing his sweaty hands together. He stretched his arms in preparation.
Again, you had to admire the way his shirt pulled across his tall, broad frame. But you followed after him when he started heading out the door.
“Wait, you shouldn’t do it by yourself!” you called out, and quickly followed after him.
Denise shot Jenny and Cassie a highly amused look.
“That's what she saaaid,” Denise sing-songed. The other two women grimaced.
“Wow. That’s your niece!” Cassie exclaimed.
“And technically my boss, thanks,” Jenny added.
“What, they’re cute, aren’t they?” Denise said, gesturing at the way you and Beau left.
“This from the woman who’s been lusting after that man since the minute he got into town,” Cassie retorted.
“Well, I’m woman enough to bow out when I’ve been thwarted. By my own blood no less,” Denise replied, but her mischievous smile said it all as she breezed back into the kitchen to start unpacking the silverware for you.
She knew for a fact that you’d made dinner for later—and not just because she’d told you how much Beau liked lasagna.
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Beau accepted your help, along with Cassie and Jenny’s in bringing up all the parts of your bed. He just insisted on utilizing his own power tools to put it together.
That was how you found yourself holding the headboard up straight while Beau made sure the frame was aligned. It wasn’t as easy as it looked; the wood panels had to slide into the notch in the headboard just so, before he could start drilling the bolts back in.
“Damn it,” he muttered, when one panel of the frame nearly slipped out of his hand.
“Can you actually use that power drill?” Cassie asked. “Because you’re pretty hopeless with cars.”
Beau rolled his eyes, despite his smile. “Save the belittling for later. Tryin’ to concentrate.”
After a few more minutes of sweating, mild cursing, and internal praying, you, Beau, and Cassie managed to get the bedframe put together with the headboard. Then the box spring, and finally the mattress. It marked the official end of moving in.
While Beau, Cassie, and Jenny took a much-deserved rest sitting on the couch with a round of beers, you went to the kitchen where your aunt had already preheated the oven for you. Now you just needed to pull out the two massive pans of lasagna you’d prepared the night before—as a thank you for everyone who came to help you.
Denise sidled up to you and touched your arm to get your attention.
“Good job inviting our dear Beau to lift furniture for us,” she whispered, waggling her brows. You shot her a look and shushed her.
“Do you always flirt with him like this?” you asked incredulously.
“Well, I might have to do it less blatantly if he’s gonna keep playing Mr. White Knight for you,” she teased. 
“He is not. He’s just…nice,” you whispered back. “So are Cassie and Jenny.” 
Denise gave you an amused look. “Mhmm.”
You rolled your eyes and focused on getting dinner ready.
Within the hour, the five of you were sat at your new modest dining table between the kitchen and the living room, eating lasagna and drinking iced tea. Jenny and Beau had beers alongside them, and conversation drifted from how you intended to set up the apartment, to Cassie’s still open missing backpacker case.
The parents were even more worried now, saying it was out of character for him not to check in with a phone call, despite the email he’d apparently sent them a few days ago. Beau had agreed to give Cassie whatever help she needed on the periphery, especially if further evidence revealed itself on the backpacker’s whereabouts.
Beau was already on his second helping of lasagna when he raised his gaze to you, right across from him at the table.
“Clearly you get your cooking skills from your aunt, because this is fantastic,” he said.
Denise twittered. You blushed a little as you smiled.
“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”
There was a short lull, filled by the tapping of silverware on plates, before Denise spoke up.
“By the way,” she said, looking to you and Beau. “Did you two have a productive time at grief counseling? What did you talk about?”
It was a well-meaning, but perhaps intrusive question. Both you and Beau tensed up. Cassie gave Denise a warning look. 
“Oh, I’m sorry. You guys don’t have to answer that,” Denise amended. 
“Um, it’s okay,” you replied. “It wasn’t too bad…I think I might go again.”
Beau had a warmer smile for you. “That’s good.”
You were able to return his smile. You turned to Cassie next.
“You went there for a while, right?” you asked. Cassie nodded. 
“It was helpful,” she said. “I’m glad you’re getting something out of it.”
You took that with a nod, and returned your gaze to Beau.
“Have you been going there long?” you asked him.
He tilted his head. “Actually, yesterday was my first time too.”
Your eyes widened. “Oh, really?”
Cassie was intrigued at the way this little scene was playing out. Thought she caught the look on Jenny’s face while she watched it too. Like Jenny was studying them, not sure what to make of it all.
Beau wore a self-deprecating smile.
“Yeah. Just…hadn’t gotten around to it,” he answered you.
There was a heaviness in his voice and in his eyes that you didn’t miss, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable in a room full of people, even if they were his friends. 
“Well, I’ll go again if you do,” you offered, a bit bolder than you felt. Beau met your eyes across the table, and his lips lifted at the corners. 
“All right,” he said. “You got yourself a deal, miss ma’am.”
You fought against a blush rising up your neck. You glanced down and took a sip of your iced tea. 
“Look at you. Pulling out your ‘sheriff’ voice,” Cassie teased. 
“Like a rhinestone cowboy…” you sang into your glass. Your smile peeked out around the corners of it.  
Most of the table laughed. Jenny smiled, but opted for drinking her beer.
Meanwhile, Beau gave you a mock look of betrayal. His true amusement shone through his eyes. 
“I see how this is. Gang up on the Texan time,” he remarked. 
That gave Cassie an opening to ask you something, and hopefully get to know you better. Already she had an instinct about you: she liked you. And clearly Beau seemed to as well. Cassie tended to be more cautious about people, even if you were Denise’s family.
“So how are you liking the Midwest so far?” Cassie asked you. 
“So far? It’s the fresh air I needed,” you replied. 
“Oh, you should check out that art studio you wanted to see,” Denise chimed in. 
“You’re an artist too?” Beau asked, raising a brow. You chuckled.
“No, just an amateur with a handful of brushes,” you replied.
You remembered the peace you’d gotten while painting in sight of the mountains. But when you got to Denise’s house, you’d hidden away those canvases, not wanting to be reminded of that week at Sunny Day Excursions. And of Mary. 
“Oh, but have you gone horseback riding yet?” Denise asked. “I know you were gonna try on your camping trip—”
You loved your aunt. You really did, but she also had a knack for putting her foot in her mouth. The others quieted as you dimmed at the actual mention of that God-forsaken place.
“I tried,” you said. “I never actually managed to make it on the horse.” 
“Aw, well if you ever want to go, there’s a stable in town. They give lessons too,” Denise said.
You nodded and forced a smile. You went back to picking at the remnants of lasagna and salad on your plate.
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When everyone began to filter out of your new apartment, each with their own set of well-wishing and a container of leftovers to take home, Beau ended up being last to leave. You had followed him to the door, where you handed him his tupperware of leftovers, and he thanked you in appreciation.
“Now I just need a microwave,” he said. “My toaster oven’s been on the fritz.”
Your brows rose in amusement. “You have a toaster oven, but not a microwave?”
“Well, let’s just say my trailer doesn’t exactly have a whole lot of space for appliances,” Beau replied, chuckling.
You smiled at that. You hesitated, but you eventually touched his hand that held the tupperware.
“Thank you again for coming here, for helping me…and for yesterday,” you said.
Beau almost didn’t realize it, but his face was getting warm. As warm as your pretty smile.
“Well, you’re very welcome,” he said. “And just puttin’ it out there, I may or may not have been riding a horse before I could walk. First memory I have is my dad putting me on Old Bess when I was four. She nearly kicked me off…not that that would happen to you. I’m just saying—” 
“I see.” Your giggle ended with a smirk. Beau tended to ramble. You weren’t sure if it was a nervous tick, or just a facet of his upbeat personality…but you found it endearing.
He leveled you with a grin. “Listen, what I mean to say is, if you’re serious about wanting to learn how to ride, I could teach you. It’s not that hard.”
You bit your lip, mentally beginning to weigh out the pros and cons. To be honest, you still had reservations, both on riding a horse, and on Beau being the one to teach you. Was he just being nice, your “friendly neighborhood sheriff,” or was your aunt onto something?
…You weren’t sure, but your instincts told you that at the very least, you could trust him with this. And trust had become hard for you to give any man.
“Okay, cowboy. Let’s ride,” you said. And you even surprised yourself with the flirtatious note in your voice. 
Beau’s grin kicked up a notch. You then exchanged numbers so you could hash out the details of when and where to meet sometime soon. Hopefully soon. 
Then you wished him a good night. 
“G’night, darlin’,” he said. He lingered in the hallway for a parting grin. “And welcome home.”
Your answering smile warmed him, long after he left your door.
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AN: *rubs hands together* We're really getting into it now. 😂 Finally we have the big reveal of why she left Chicago, and the start of her and Beau's bond. You'll see more of that, and of Emily, in the next chapter...
Next Time:
You gasped and gripped even tighter with your thighs. With almost everything you had.
You were still far too unsteady for comfort on this damn horse. The poor animal whinnied, tossing his head back with a huff. Unfortunately, that just made you tense up even more as you held onto his neck. 
Beau tried not to laugh. You looked like a cat clinging to the edge of a bath.
“Okay, you needa relax a little,” he said. “He ain’t gonna buck you, long as you don’t give him a reason to.”
You shot him a narrowed look.
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4
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luvrhischier · 9 months
Text
never let go // trevor zegras
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part 1 pairing: trevor zegras x reader
word count: 3.9k (i’m sorry i went overboard again)
a/n: jumps between povs, each part is labeled and split by long black divider though (if you don’t like this sort of thing, sorry <3), no use of ‘y/n’ again.
warnings: none (i think)
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(him)
Trevor just stood there, his legs wouldn't move, no matter how badly he wanted them to. He wanted to run after you but he couldn't. From his frozen haze he saw Luke run out the door. That should be him running to you and he knew that.
"Everybody out! Party's over!" Jamie yelled. Everyone quickly walked out. Jamie looked over to Nico. “Can you make sure everyone who shouldn't be driving gets an Uber, I'll pay, I don’t even care anymore just please make sure everyone is safe and out of here." Nico nodded and left, dragging a still slightly drunk Jack with him. He would be no help to the conversation about to happen in the state he was in.  Now it was just Jamie, Quinn, and Trevor. Once the front door was shut Quinn forcefully turned Trevor around. He still looked shocked and a few tears had begun to run down his face.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Quinn finally spoke up. Trevor opened his mouth to say something but no words came out.
"If you weren't my best friend I would beat the shit out of you," Jamie said through gritted teeth. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done?"
"She," Quinn pointed towards the door you had just walked out of, "is like a little sister to me and you just broke her heart in front of an entire party of random strangers." Quinn's voice was calm, too calm, it was frightening. "And you're not my best friend so I will gladly beat the shit out of you." He stepped forward but Jamie stopped him as Trevor finally spoke.
"I didn't mean for this to happen," he whispered. 
"What do you mean?! You went into this whole thing knowing you had feelings for her."
"What thing?" Quinn interrupted. 
"Do you wanna tell him?" Jamie crossed his arm. Trevor said nothing. "Are you really going to make me tell him?"
"We've been sleeping together," Trevor said softly. Quinn exhaled.
"How long?" He asked.
"Since my birthday," he paused, scared of how Quinn would react after he said his next words, "last year." Quinn saw red. Yes, you were old enough to make your own decisions, but he hated that this decision ended with you in tears and running out the door.
"You've been stringing her along for over a year?!" Quinn's voice got louder with each word. 
"No, I swear! I didn't think she felt the same way I did, and if-" Trevor's voice broke.
"Come on, Trevor," Jamie sighed. "You're dumb, but you're not that dumb. Everyone can see that she loves you and you love her."
It was quiet for a moment.
"You better fix this," Quinn spoke one last time as he headed for the door, he didn't trust himself to not punch Trevor if he stayed any longer. 
"She is the best thing that has ever happened to you, don't let her get away." Jamie walked away.
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(you)
The first week after that night everyone gave you your space. Texts were your only form of communication, you didn't trust yourself to talk, you knew your voice would be coarse from all the crying. 
Trevor would call and text you everyday and every time he did you ignored him. Eventually you muted his notifications, you knew you should've blocked him but you weren't ready for that. 
────
The second week after that night you no longer had space. At least one of your friends were with you at your apartments at all times. These days were filled with binge watching cringy reality shows and lots of take out. You started to smile and laugh again. 
────
The third week after is when you finally left your apartment. 
On Monday, Quinn took you to the beach, complaining about how he was getting sand in places he didn't know sand could get into. You laughed as he got hit on, multiple times. He just awkwardly said 'thank you,' every time he was complimented. Once the, one sided, flirting stopped Quinn soon became your greatest enemy. When you got up to stretch your legs he took that as an opportunity to grab you and throw you into the water. Once you came out of the water you saw Quinn dying of laughter. When he saw the look on your face he ran for his life.
On Tuesday, Luke dragged you to an arcade. You beat him at air hockey and might have gotten a little too excited based on the looks you got from all of the parents with their little kids. He accused you of cheating saying 'You rigged this somehow. I should've won, I literally play hockey for a living!’ You just laughed and called him a sore loser followed by a laugh and, ‘Maybe it’s time you retire and I take your place. I do look pretty good in red.’ He just scoffed and walked off to the next game.
On Wednesday, Jack made you go to an amusement park. He said that the two of you had to go on every single ride. The day started good but soon Jack's face started to go pale. You said you two should probably leave but he refused. He said he was fine and that it was time for the big rollercoaster. As soon as you got off the ride Jack ran to the nearest trash can and threw up. You whispered a quick 'I told you so,' and Jack just gave you the middle finger.
On Thursday, Nico forced you to go on a hike with him, you hated this. He didn’t tell you how long the hike was going to be and you wanted to punch him. The hike was filled with you cursing at him, while he just laughed. It was worth it once you saw the view at the top. The smug look on Nico's face however, was not worth it. You jokingly said you would push him off the cliff if he didn't wipe that look off his face.
On Friday, Jamie just simply walked around town with you as you shopped, not complaining once, that night he took you to a drive-in movie theater that was playing your favorite movie. This might have been your favorite activity of the week. Just you and one of your closest friends laughing being a little too loud and getting told to shut up by the cars next to you, almost getting kicked out. 
You thought you would get to have a quiet night alone on Saturday but that thought went out the window when you heard a knock on your door. You opened the door and saw all of them standing there, a couple holding snacks and a few holding blankets and pillows.
"What is all of this?" You laughed.
"We’re staying over," Jack said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, he then pushed past you letting himself in.
"Yeah, no, of course you can totally come in," you joked sarcastically.
"We know," Nico said, you playfully slapped his back as he walked by.
You watched as the blankets were dropped on the living room floor and the snacks were placed on the coffee table. 
"I don't have a say in this, do I?" You crossed your arms 
"Nope!" They all said in unison. You rolled your eyes playfully before joining them. 
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(him)
The last three weeks had been absolute hell for Trevor. During those three weeks he barely saw Jamie or anyone else, he knew he deserved that thought. The silence and alone time gave him a lot of time to think. When he wasn't in bed, he was out driving. He never had a destination in mind, he just wanted to clear his head but, as if the universe was playing some sick joke on him, he always ended up at your apartment building.
That Sunday morning was no exception. He sat there for what felt like eternity before he noticed people exiting the building. He focused to see who it was and he felt his heart start racing once he did. It was Jamie, Quinn, Jack, Luke, and Nico. Quickly he ducked, thankful that the parking spot he was in was somewhat covered by a tree. After a few minutes he finally looked to see if the coast was clear. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
This was his moment. He could go up to you and finally explain everything, finally see you again, even if it was for the last time. He took a few deep breaths before opening the car door. Slowly, he walked towards the side entrance of the building. Once he got there he stopped and remembered, he had given your spare key to Jamie, he couldn't get into the building. He looked over at the intercom system and saw the button with your name. He obviously couldn't press it. You would turn him away immediately. He looked at the only other name that he knew.
Miss Bea. The old lady who lived across the hall from you. The lady who you would spend most of your free time with and the lady who always came over to your apartment on Sunday nights for dinner and card games. You both quickly became an important part in each other's lives. You were close, Miss Bea was like your grandmother and you were like her granddaughter. He knew that you had definitely told Miss Bea what had happened and he also knew that Miss Bea was terrifying when she was mad. With a shaky hand he pressed the button next to Miss Bea's name. He waited for a second before he heard her voice.
"Who is this? What do you want?" She asked quickly. Trevor froze and couldn't speak. "If this is some kind of prank or whatever you kids do these days you better get to running before I get down there." He knew that wasn't an empty threat.
"Hi-," his voice wavered for a second. "Hi, Miss Bea. It's-um-it's Trevor." He braced himself. 
"You have some nerve coming here!" She was almost yelling.
"I know, ma'am, I know." He stopped and ran his hand through his hair, he didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. It was silent for awhile. Trevor began to think she had walked away.
"Are you here to apologize?" She said curtly.
"Yes, ma'am," he whispered.
"Speak up I can't hear you. I said, are you here to apologize?" 
"Yes, ma'am," he said once again, this time loud and clear. It went quiet again. He thought that maybe she had just walked away as he just stood there for awhile. Soon the door in front of him opened and there stood the short but mighty, and scary, little old lady.
"You make her cry angain and I will end you." She pointed at him. "I know people. One call and they'll be here in a second." 
Trevor gulped and quickly nodded his head in fear. He had no doubt that she did in fact 'know people,' and he did not want to meet them. She let him walk in front of her and he waited to help her up the stairs with an arm held out.
"Don't get all gentlemen like now." She waved her hand shooing him away. He nodded his head before turning and making his way to your apartment.
Before he knew it he was standing at the door. With a shaky hand he knocked before he lost the courage. Time felt like it had slowed down. Soon the door swung open.
"Guys, I told you-"
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(you)
Your stomach dropped instantly. There he was standing right in front of you. Quickly you tried to slam the door but he stopped it with his foot. 
"Wait!" You opened the door once again. 
"How the hell did you get in here?" You wanted to yell but you didn't. Before he could respond you saw Miss Bea walking to her front door with a little smirk on her face. "Miss Bea?!" You said in disbelief.
"Are we still on for dinner tonight, dear?" She asked in the most nonchalant voice you had ever heard. Your jaw dropped. "Honey, we talked about this, close your mouth or you're going to catch flies." She joked as she closed her door, leaving you alone with Trevor. You quickly closed your mouth before looking at the boy who had caused you so much pain.
"Can we please talk?" He whispered.
"I don't want to talk to you." You started to shut the door again.
"Then can you please listen? Just listen to what I have to say and if by the time I'm done you still want me to leave I will leave and I will never bother you again." You let out a sigh and opened the door, slowly.
"You have 5 minutes," you knew that was far too generous but, sadly, you desperately wanted to hear what he had to say. You stepped aside and let him in. You watched as he looked around your apartment like he had never been there before. All of the pictures of the two of you and the small little trinkets the two of you had collected over the years were tucked away in the back of your closet. There was no trace of him anymore. "You're wasting time. You’re 5 minutes started when I closed the door." You said as you crossed your arms. Finally, he turned to you, and for the first time you got a proper look at him. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair was a mess, and his face wasn't as bright as it used to be.
"Do you remember that field trip we took back in second grade, to the aquarium?" He asked. You nodded your head, extremely confused as to why that is what he started with. He looked down at his hands. "You were terrified to walk through the shark tunnel, so I held your hand and promised that I would protect you." He chuckled but his voice was still shaking.
It took everything in you not to smile at the fond memory.
"That was the first time I felt it. Obviously I didn't know what ‘it’ was at the time. But when my mom picked me up from school that day I told her she had to take me to the hospital immediately. She asked what was wrong and tried to see if i had any injuries. I told her you gave me cooties. She just laughed and I remember I got so upset because I thought I was dying and my mom was just laughing at me. She finally asked me why I thought you had given me cooties. I told her that my tummy felt all warm and fuzzy after I let go your hand and it happened again every time you laughed or smile or looked at me. She laughed again and told me it wasn't cooties and that I would understand when I was older." He wiped his nose on his sleeve, you turned around and grabbed a tissue box.
"Here," you whispered softly as you offered it to him. 
"Thank you.” He wiped his nose before continuing. "Then in seventh grade there was that cheesy little winter formal and that little dickhead Tyler asked you to dance. Except it wasn’t even a real slow dance you both just stood there awkwardly with your hands on each other’s shoulders, stepping side to side.” You let out a quick and short laugh. Trevor laughed too. "I was so mad that he asked you before I did and that's when I started to realize that maybe I wanted more than just a friendship with you. You two started dating and at first I thought it wasn't gonna last because, c'mon we were in middle school, middle school relationships never last. But somehow you did and you lasted all the up to the end of sophomore year, which surprised everyone, especially me. You two finally broke up because you caught him cheating-"
"Okay, okay, you don't need to bring that part up," you muttered.
"And then somehow Tyler ended up with a broken nose..." he trailed off.
"And you somehow ended up with bruised knuckles,” you chuckled. A lightness began to fill the air.
"Hey, don't look at me, Tyler never said who did it." He raised his hands up in surrender. You could see Trevor's face start to light up again. “The end of senior year came and prom was coming up. You went on and on about how there was no chance in hell you were going. You turned down a dozen promposals. I was able to convince you to go with me because I promised I would stay by your side the entire time. I still had to drag you out of the house though. That's the night we had our first kiss, it was during a slow dance, a real slow dance, and we laughed because it was a complete cliché. We never talked about that kiss afterwards, we both acted like it never happened, and I hated that. It terrified me but that's when I knew 100%," he paused as he took a small step forward, and you let him. "That's the night I realized I was completely in love with you. I have been in love with you since before I even knew what love was. I still am and I will always be in love with you."
You didn't know when they started but you finally felt tears stream down your face. You stood there in shock. He felt the same way you did. He was in love with you. He has been his entire life. 
"I never acted on those feelings because I thought you didn’t feel the same and that you never would. I’m a complete mess and all over the place and you’re…” he paused. “You’re, you. Then my birthday happened and everything got so complicated. I should have told you that very first night but I couldn’t, I couldn’t ruin our friendship more than it probably already was. I need you in my life so I took you in whatever way that would keep you by my side. Which was fucked up and completely selfish," he whispered.
"But what about that night? You didn't seem to be in love with me then," your voice broke a little at the end.
"I thought you were mad at me. You were short on the phone with me and then your phone went straight to voicemail every time I tried to call and you didn't read any of my texts.”
“So your first thought was to hook up with some random girl?” You cut him off.
“No! I don’t know!” He stuttered loudly, regretting his choice of words when he saw your eyes filled with hurt. “Fuck! No! You make my mind get all jumbled up and I can’t think straight when I’m around you or even when I just think about you. I jumped to conclusions and I thought that everything was over, our friendship and our…whatever we became, and just the thought of that sent me into a self destructive spiral, I wanted to get you out of my head and I failed and I hurt you while doing so. I should’ve told you how I felt that night at prom. I should’ve tried harder, I know that now, and I should've fought for you. I should've ran after you that night.”
“Yeah, you really should have,” you whispered. Slowly but surely you could feel your heart getting put back together again with every word he said. You could feel your love grow the more he talked.
“I have been beating myself up everyday for the past three weeks because all I did was stand there and let you walk away. You are quite literally the best thing that has ever happened to me. I would give everything up if it meant you'd forgive me and that I could spend the rest of our lives making it up to you. I'd even give up hockey if you asked me to, I really hope you don't because I'm really not good at anything else." He was rambling, saying whatever thought came into his head. He went to continue speaking but you just laughed and closed the space between the both of you.
You grabbed his shirt and kissed him. You kissed him with everything you had. He stood there shocked for a second before he finally relaxed into the kiss, cupping your face with both of his hands. This kiss was unlike any of the kisses before. There was no rush, no roughness, there was just love. You could feel the love radiating off of both of you and you never wanted it to end. Sadly it had to. You had to breathe. 
"What was that for? I mean not that I didn't enjoy it, I really enjoyed it. I just mean does-" you interrupted him with another kiss.
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?" You asked as you pulled away. You wiped the few tears still left on his face and he did the same for you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, his wrapped around your waist.
"I've been told that once or twice," he joked, all you did was laugh before bringing him in for a soft peck. He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes closed and face full of love and happiness. The two of you just stood there in silence for a moment, taking in and processing everything that just happened.
"Hey Trev," you waited for some kind of response. Which came in the form of a questioning hum. "You got the story wrong." You pulled away, and walked over to your couch, Trevor right behind you. You both sat down
"What do you mean?" He questioned.
"The aquarium," you looked at him with a smirk. "You were the one who was terrified to walk through the shark tunnel, not me." He looked at you like you were crazy.
"No I wasn't, it was you!" He argued. He leaned back against the couch and pulled you with him.
“Maybe you’ve fallen on the ice one too many times because I’m right,” you laughed, your laughter causing Trevor to laugh. You curled into his side and he wrapped his arms around you.
Once your laughter died down Trevor spoke up again.
“I’m so happy you forgave me because I did not want to fall victim to Miss Bea’s ‘people,’ that really would’ve sucked.” He shuddered at the thought.
You looked up at him and the scared look on his face caused you to smile bigger than you ever had before. He looked down at you and playfully scoffed at your smiling face before leaning down to softly kiss you again.
This is what you both wanted for the rest of your lives. Laughing until your ribs hurt, kissing like it was the last time, and all the good times and bad times in between.
It wasn’t going to be easy, and you still had a lot to talk about, but you knew, with every fiber of your being, that he was never going to let you go again, he was never going to let you walk out that door, and you were never going to let him do the same.
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angel-of-the-moons · 7 months
Text
A Rose Under The Moon
Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Fem!Reader
TW/CW: Violence, graphic violence, blood, fighting, human trafficking, mentions of abuse, drug use, child abuse, sex trafficking, angst. So much angst.
MINORS DNI: I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
A/N: Whew! I'm proud of this one! Many thanks to my bestest friend, Artemis, who himself has DID and helps me understand this condition and describe them (hopefully) more accurately! His system is a big help in me learning more about this subject! (Extra note: any Spanish spoken in this fic is in italics. As I am not a fluent speaker by any means, it is mostly translated by Google. Have fun!)
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Chapter 2:
Inside Voices
(Steven, no…) Marc's voice groaned out, glaring at him through the shared reflection in the glass door.
"But Marc! I've lived here for ages and didn't know this shop was here!" Steven beamed, smiling widely. Thankfully the wireless headphones he had on made him look like he was on the phone, and not completely off his rocker…
Marc ran his hands through his curly black hair. (You have enough books!)
"But this store might have books I don't have!" He pointed out.
(Just let him look, hermano.) Jake sighed, his reflection staring up at Steven from a puddle on the ground.
"Yes, thank you, Jake. At least somebody encourages my hobby!" Steven huffed indignantly at Marc.
(Jake, stop babying him!)
(Hey, nothing wrong with having a hobby?) The man snorted.
Marc rolled his eyes and slumped his shoulders, he directed a tired glare back at Steven.
(You gonna go in or just stare at the front door?) He finally asked.
Steven grinned like an excited boy going into a candy shop.
Marc really needed to have a talk with Jake about this. Steven already had too many books in their flat!
Steven pulled the headphones out of his ears and shoved them in his pocket as he opened the door, nearly jumping when the bell dinged.
He looked around, rather impressed with how much was inside a small space. Steven almost jumped again when the clerk spoke.
"Hi! Welcome to Here Today Books!" She said cheerfully.
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(I'm just saying, Steven… that's too many fucking books.) Marc said, crossing his arms at Steven through the reflection in the window across from his desk, cluttered with papers, folders, and books on various subjects of the Egyptian religious pantheon, architecture, etcetera.
"Oh, hush." Steven hummed, pushing his glasses up his nose as he examined the pages on one of the old books he held in his hand.
(Steven…) Marc sighed, exasperatedly. 
"I know, I know." He sighed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. The stubble there was getting rather coarse. Maybe he could talk Jake out of growing that mustache or goatee he was thinking about…
Steven looked over and picked up the bookmark, sighing deeply as he looked at the gold-tipped rose sealed so lovingly in the plastic. Small vine-luke designs had been penned into the colorful sheet of paper inside the plastic as well.
(Very Beauty and The Beast, no?) Jake mused, his reflection from the mirror on the desk looking at Steven with a cocky grin.
It helped them, they found, to have as many reflective surfaces as possible in their flat; it enabled them to talk to each other simultaneously and "see" one another. Sure they could all talk in the headspace, and when they co-fronted it was almost like they could feel each other; rubbing shoulders, as it were, but sometimes you just needed to see the other person, y'know? Outside of your own head? Shared head? The terms still confused poor Steven, at times.
"I s'pose." He hummed, holding the plastic in his fingers gently, as if it were made of the thinnest glass. Absentmindedly, he pulled the sleeve of his shirt up and looked at the inside of his left wrist.
A mark was there.
A rose, to be precise.
Sometimes it would look like it was wilting, other times it was blooming and vibrant… other times it was closed, not ready to bloom.
Right now, it was somewhere between wilting and blooming. He wasn't sure what it meant. He thought back to Marc's ex-wife, Layla. And how he practically fell head over heels with her when they first met.
He had hoped, with Layla, that she had a corresponding mark… but she didn't. Layla was one of the few who didn't have a mark, or in the very least it hadn't shown up yet. Which isn't entirely implausible… But… something happened. After escaping the Duat, coming back to life, fighting Ammit… finding out about Jake.
They just drifted apart. The sparks that may have been there snuffed out, any hints at romance gone from the equation. They all decided it was better to leave it at that.
Well, at least they were all still on friendly terms, Steven mused. Layla still spoke to he and Marc via phone, or even email. It took Steven forever to convince Marc to ditch that "old dinosaur piece of plastic" he called a phone, and stick with his touch-screen.
Except… Jake. Ah, Jake. Layla never fully trusted him.
(Steven.) Jake said, getting his attention, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Hm?" He hummed, turning the bookmark over and over in his hand thoughtfully, eyes fluttering back to their mark on their wrist.
(It's my turn tonight.) Jake reminded him softly.
"Oh… right." He cringed. "Bollocks, I hate this…"
(I know, hermanito. But it has to be done, or the bad guys roam free…)
"All right, just… don't let me see any of it, yeah?" Steven sighed, placing the bookmark on the table as he put his hands in his lap.
(Of course.) Jake replied.
Marc stayed silent.
Suddenly, eyes flew closed, the jaw clenched; a bit of a sharp pain fluttered briefly through the brain at the sudden switching. They were getting better at seamless transitions, but sometimes some form of discomfort lingered. The body sat, almost like an empty vessel waiting to be filled. Whether it was five minutes or five seconds, it was unsure. 
When the eyes opened again…
Jake was sitting where Steven sat. Steven's reflection wasn't in the mirror as Jake's had been, previously. He was left alone with Marc staring at him from the inky-black reflection in the window.
(I really hate that we have to do that to him.) Marc sighed, shaking his head.
"He's too gentle for our work, Marc." Jake said, clicking his tongue as he stood, walking over to the wardrobe in the corner and reaching out to grab his old leather coat. "He's too… good."
(I know.) Marc's reflection was in the fishtank now, where Gus the Second was swimming alongside… they really should think of a name for the other two.
Jake tugged the old worn garment on and pulled the gloves out of his jacket pockets with a sharp yank, flexing his fingers as they filled out the soft, well broken-in leather. Lastly, he pulled out that golf cap and slid it on his head, and looked at Marc.
(You don't have to see this, either, Marc.) He said to him.
(Somebody's gotta bear the weight with you, brother.) Marc said intently.
"Gracias por eso, hermano." Jake mumbled, twirling the flat's keys in his fingers as he walked to the front door.
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He sat, kneeling on the rooftop, his body hunched in a way that made him look like a gargoyle, unflinching and unmoving in his gaze; the cape gifted to him flared out almost like a long, tattered set of broken wings.
He wasn’t sure why he decided here of all places was a good place to talk. Why here? What drew him here? Was it the lingering joy and comfort Steven felt when he came in earlier that day?
The sign was hand-painted and in need of a new coat. Flecks of it had chipped away, the exposed wood beneath bleached by years of exposure. But… why was the bookshop important enough to stand outside now?
He looked down below, the curtains were pulled back still in the flat above, old lightbulbs casting a soft, orangish glow to everything inside. He could barely see from this vantage point across the street the boxes of books and book stacks lying on a desk in front of the window. Small knick knacks lined the sills, a hanging plant pot on the outside containing flowers of different kinds, slightly wilted from the lack of sun from the past few days, and now the night.
He stirred when he watched the young woman inside walk to the window in the living room and close the curtains; then tracked her movements as she went about her nightly rituals.
She seemed relaxed. Comfortable. Safe.
She didn't need protection tonight.
He felt the air chill around him, seeping through the wrappings of his armor.
“Jake Lockley.”
There it was. The voice he was waiting for. The voice that always knocked him away from his personal thoughts. The voice that told him of his duties during the night.
Khonshu.
“Yes, father?” Jake asked, standing up, turning to see the large imposing silhouette of a gaunt man, enshrouded in ancient, wispy linen wraps, a tattered shawl hanging from his bony shoulders, clenched in his fist; in place of a head was the dessicated and fleshless bone of a bird skull, small web-like tendrils wafting about here or there. Large, eyeless sockets fixed him in a crushing gaze, the skull tilting in an almost inquisitive manner.
(I wish you’d stop calling him that…) Marc grumbled from within. 
“Have you located the evil-doers I sent you after?” Khonshu’s ancient and ethereal voice grated out.
“Yes. I plan on taking them out tonight.” Jake replied dutifully.
Khonshu tilted his head at Jake, and stood from where he sat on the aircon unit. “Now… Why are you here? This is not where you usually prefer to speak with me.”
“I… don’t know.” Jake admitted softly. “Felt like I had to be here.” 
“Hmm.” The god hummed, stopping to stand next to Jake, looking down at the flat below. “Indeed.”
“Was there… anything else, father?” Jake asked, looking up at him.
“No. You can leave. I will issue new orders when our quarry is dead and dealt with.”
“Of course.” Jake bowed his head, pressing his fist over the moon on his chest; sparing one last glance down at the woman before walking away, leaping to another rooftop with superhuman strength.
Khonshu stayed. Observing, just for a moment longer, at the woman inside the safety of her home. 
“Interesting.” He mused to himself, stamping his staff down and vanishing in a haze of mist.
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Jake panted, pulling one of his darts out of the chest of the man who had tried to previously shoot him just now. He sheathed the weapon and approached the shipping container, hesitating for a moment before smashing the lock open with his bare fist and hauling the heavy doors open.
Inside were half a dozen women and young girls, and children. Some of them naked, others half-dressed. Many of them were dirty and half starved, injuries evident on their poor bodies.
He noticed how they all flinched, backing away from him.
“I won’t hurt you.” He said, in a tone as soft as he could possibly manage, trying to ease their worries. “I’m here to save you.” 
Jake leaned down and pulled the jacket off the dead body of the man he had just killed, stepping over the corpse to the young woman nearest to him. 
She was clad only in her underwear, bruises and track marks lining her body. He draped the jacket over her shoulders, zipping it closed for her as he guided her arms through the sleeves. 
“The police are on their way. You’ll all be safe, soon.” He said, his glowing white eyes fixed in the black abyss of his mask immediately zeroed in on three women, clinging their arms around a group of small children.
The youngest couldn’t have been older than three years old. Her eyes cold, far too ancient and haunted for one so young, clouded by the things she’d been forced to endure for the profit of her traffickers; her tiny body already bearing the scars of the abuse and trauma. Jake’s fist balled at his sides as he forced his breathing to try and calm; adrenaline surging through him again, a hot coal of rage dropping deep into the pit of his stomach.
He wished he could kill them all over again. He wished he could make them all suffer in ways they could barely process for the things they’d done. He wanted to–
His cloak was tugged on, snapping him out of his seething.
He looked down, and a small boy, all skin and bones looked up at him. He looked to be about seven. Could be older, as malnourishment can inhibit growth. His big green eyes looked up at Jake as he wrapped the edge of his cloak around his shoulders like a blanket, his dirty and grimy fingers clinging to the blood-soaked material, seeking comfort he so desperately needed. Jake felt his heart crack in two. He looked almost like...
He closed his eyes for a moment and kneeled, getting as eye level with the boy as he could.
“You’re safe now. They can’t hurt you anymore.” Jake said, his voice quiet, almost broken. He reached for a ratty blanket on the ground and covered the little boy with it, the sight of him covered in a bloody cape almost too much for him to bear. 
He felt his breathing hitch when the little boy smiled up at him, gap-toothed and happy. He handed the boy off to a woman who looked to only be maybe nineteen.
“Stay…” He cleared his throat, looking at everyone within the container, standing back to his full imposing height. 
“Stay here while I make sure it’s safe and I got them all. Someone will be here soon to get you all out of here.”
“Thank you.” One of the women sobbed quietly, clutching onto what looked to be her own child. They looked too similar for them to be anything but related.
Jake turned, his cape flowing out behind him like a white shadow as he stalked into the warehouse beyond, his fists already tight; the spiked knuckles on the back of his hands ready for blows he was all too eager to deliver.
He stepped over bodies, beaten, broken. Lifeless. 
All at his hand. They deserved worse.
The eerie quiet of the cavernous space was only interrupted by the tinkling of chains suspended from the rafters, wind whistling through unseen cracks. 
He could hear the sirens in the distance closing in, but he didn’t relax. He wouldn’t. Not until he was sure.
Not until he knew they were all dead.
Jake’s hands trembled with anticipation as that coal of rage ignited into an inferno, burning hot and low in his belly, sending sparks through his bloodstream. He was so far into that haze of red, he missed the man rushing him with a kabar knife. 
He must have missed that one, the coward was probably hiding the moment the carnage broke out.
The moment he turned, he felt the blade slip easily through the wrappings of his dark armor, piercing the flesh and organs beneath, the pain tearing through his body like a macabre tsunami.
He brought his fist out, slamming the spiked knuckles into the face of the man.
The coppery scent of blood, the crunch of bones and cartilage filled his nose and were deafeningly loud in his ears. He was sure he watched his eyeball dislodge, hanging over the crushed and bloody expanse of his cheek as his body was sent flying into the cargo loader nearby.
The sound of his bones turning almost to powder overpowered the haunting ambience of the dark lair.
Jake marched over to him and gripped him by the shirt, rearing his fist back for another punch, even as his body hung limp in his grasp. 
Only… he couldn’t land the blow. He just couldn’t. It was one thing to kill to protect. But it was another to beat a corpse that he’d already wrought with one blow. His ears picked up the sounds of shouting, sirens, bootfall. A helicopter whirred above, spotlight shining at the carnage below.
He stood, clutching at the knife still sticking out of his side as he dragged his feet, pulling the shell of his body outside, where he was met with armored police officers, wearing what he assumed was some kind of riot gear. The pain in his side was maddening, he almost didn’t hear them demand he kneel. But he did hear a woman cry.
He lifted his gaze to see the woman he’d handed the boy off to; the child still clutched in her arms as they looked over at him, their eyes locking with his.
“He saved us!” She cried.
“Don’t hurt him, please!” Another shouted.
“He’s a nice man!” A child sobbed, clinging to the emergency blanket around her frail body.
Jake felt like he could cry, he felt his heart swell to bursting; not able to tear his gaze away from the innocents he’d saved, that he killed for. Not even when one of the officers approached him, gripping his elbow to keep him steady.
The older man sighed, unable to cuff the man that the human trafficking victims were shouting and crying accolades for. Even if he apparently killed all these monsters bare-handed. “Come on, lad. Let’s get you looked at. We can’t leave that knife in ya.” 
“I’m fine.” Jake mumbled, looking at the ground. His shoulders slumped.
“Like hell you are.” The officer turned and shouted for a medic.
“Perdóname, mi corazón." Jake muttered to himself. To someone else.
But as the man carrying the equipment bag jogged towards him, Jake gripped the handle of the knife and wrenched it free in one tug, blood spurting from the wound.
“Good God!” The officer gasped, reaching out to press his hand over the gushing wound. “Are you insane, boy?”
“Yes.” Jake mumbled, pulling his hand away from him, with gentle care that betrayed the violence his bloody fingers had wrought mere moments ago. He felt the wound close, the magic and blessed armor already performing its duty. Just as he had, so violently.
Jake straightened his posture as the medic and the officers backed away in a strange mixture of fascination, horror, and awe.
“Who… what are you?” The medic breathed.
Jake turned away, his gaze to the sky.
“I’m Moon Knight.”
And with that final goodbye, he leapt up, disappearing into the blackness and depths of the night, his heart heavy but relieved, cloak streaking across the shadows, as if to chase them away.
Chapter 3: Link
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houseofthxrnes · 1 year
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A House Divided.
(Poly!Daemyra x Female! Baratheon! Reader)
For the lovely people who were requesting a part two! Really hope you enjoy 💖💖 and the credit for the gif goes to the owner.
Note; I changed a few things to fit the coarse of the story and I apologize if some characters seem a little ooc. :⁠-⁠) Italics is Valyrian. I had a little issue with referring to the readers last name, as officially women in Westeros can refer to their maiden name, so i stuck with that. Hope its alright <3.
TW: misogyny, talk of miscarriage, threats of violence.
Part 2 to A Doe Among Dragons.
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"My lady, my Prince, the princess needs you!"
You turned to Daemon, who betrayed no emotion. You took his hand into yours, almost in a way to make him come with you. But his eyes told you everything.
Laena had died the same way…Daemon couldn't bear to see Rhaenyra suffer the same way. It hadn't been long since the news reached you. That King Viserys the Peaceful had finally passed and that Aegon had usurped the throne. You couldn't tell which hurt more, the fact that Rhaenyra had lost her throne or the fact that she was losing a child because of it.
Daemon leaned into your ear, whispering a silent "Go." before you were out of the throne room and out into the hall. You turned a corner, only to be met by Lucerys. "Sweet boy, how is she?" You asked, hands gently placed on his cheek. "Screaming." He answered, eyes downcast. "Is she going to-?".
"No, no sweet boy. Your mother is strong, she'll make it through." You said, right as another scream echoed through the hall. You barely flinched, while Lucerys turned his back to the noise. "Luke, go find Orys. I'm sure he'll be glad to see his big brother. Ser Brandon, go with him." 
"My lady-"
You gave the knight a quick look, before he followed the young prince. Daemon and you had welcomed a boy into the world but a year ago and young Orys had been a joy upon your life. Rhaenyra and her boys loved him as you loved her children.
You walked and walked, the screaming only growing louder. You reached the room, opening the door and seeing the handmaids crowding around Rhaenyra. "Get off! Get off!" Rhaenyra screamed, her voice so broken it was enough to bring you near tears. Your eyes caught sight of Jacaerys, who was stoic in his disposition. Ever the eldest son, trying to be brave for his mother. As the hand maids and nurses begged Rhaenyra to let them help, you walked to Jacaerys, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?’’ You asked, albeit thinking it was a rather foolish question.
The dragon prince simply nodded. 
“Listen to me…Daemon is already preparing for the worst but what is certain for now is that our House has been betrayed.” You spoke, Jacaerys looking onto you with wide eyes. “I must stay with your mother…will you make sure that Daemon doesn't do anything rash?’’ You inquired. “Yes, I will’’ the prince answered, turning his heel to leave. 
“Jace…jace…Jacaerys!’’ Rhaenyra grunted through clenched teeth. Both you and Jacaerys stopped. Rhaenyra stooped against the chair, her gown long soaked through in a crimson color. The sight alone made you sick. The Princess’s skin was coated in a thin sheet of sweat, her hair damp. “Whatever claim remains to me you are now its heir. Not is to be done without my command.’’ She sighed, eyes following her eldest until he disappeared from sight. You and the servants sat in watch, as soon Rhaenyra cradled a dead babe in her hands. You approached slowly, face downturned and eyes glassy with unshed tears. 
“Oh my love…’’
You leaned against the wall, sighing as you allowed yourself a moment's respite. 
“You have handled things well, (Y/N).’’
“Princess Rhaenys, you scared the wits out of me.’’ You said, causing the Lady of Driftmark to laugh slightly. “Thank you…it's been a difficult day.’’ You said. “That it has.’’ Rhaenys responded. “How is she?’’
“Rhaenyra is in good health but her child…is with the Gods now.” You informed, a silence passing over the both of you. Rhaenys looked upon you with a fondness in her eye. It seemed that you had taken after your father, with your hair and supportive nature. “A war is on the horizon, (Y/n)...House Baratheon has yet to declare any allegiances-”
“My allegiance is to Rhaenyra and Rhaenyra alone.’’ You quipped, defensively. While the Baratheons were your blood, your son, your wife, your husband…they mattered more. Borros had done a good thing by letting you marry them. He had unknowingly given you something to fight for, someone to love. Your answer seemed to satisfy the woman, who simply nodded.
"Your father would be proud of you, (Y/n)." 
Her words pulled the grief from you, your eyes overflowing with tears. Small rivers formed on your cheeks, as a small whimper escaped you. Rhaenys embraced you for a moment. Rhaenyra reminded her too much of Laena and her death had left an irreversible void in the Queen Who Never Was. Yet, holding you as you wept, Rhaenys found a momentary peace. Your father was kind to her, backed her claim to the Throne even. 
Hells, he might have even pushed you to become the Lady of Storm's End. Soon, you composed yourself, clearing your throat. "I apologize, Princess Rhaenys. That was rather uncouth of me." You said, laughing off your embarrassment. "A moment's weakness does no harm in the presence of a friend. But hard times are coming, (Y/n). A doe could seldom survive it." Rhaenys warned. 
"Then a doe I shall cease to be."
"My lady." Ser Brandon called, his voice interrupting the both of you.
"What is it, Ser Brandon?"
"A raven ma'am, from Storm's End." He said. You and Rhaenys exchanged looks. Rhaenys's expression was one of bewilderment, as even you failed to understand the weight of the words. "I shall be right with you. Princess Rhaenys." You curtised, avoiding her gaze as she watched you walk off.
Once you were further enough, you turned to See Brandon. "What is the meaning of this, Ser Brandon?" 
"A raven ma'am. I was instructing the young Prince Lucerys on sword fighting when it landed." 
"And what of Orys?"
"He is with the Prince now." Ser Brandon informed, moving before you and opening the door to your chambers. Lucerys sat on the bed, Orys perched next to him as he read to him from one of the many books on the shelf. Orys noticed you almost immediately, his small hands reaching for you. You picked the boy up, kissing his cheek. "Orys, my own heart." You smiled, before ruffling Lucerys's hair. "I thank you for watching him, sweet boy. Your mother is alright." You informed him.
"The news gladdens me. He's gotten better, the last time we read together." Lucerys spoke, his tone nothing short of loving toward Orys. The babe was mindlessly babbling, reaching out for his brother and for you at the same time. "Fussy boy." You laughed. It was in moments like these that you found the most gratitude. Lucerys had been a companion to you since the day you married his mother.
He was shy at first but once he warmed up, he confided in you about many things. 
Like his worth as heir to Driftmark.
"You have a good heart, Luke. That is a rare thing." You had told him, "And you have people backing you. You think Rhaenyra taught herself everything?" You reasoned, winning a small grin from the boy.  
Ser Brandon came to you with the message, pulling you away from Lucerys and Orys. "Luke, do be a dear and watch Orys, just for another moment." You said, giving babe to his brother who nodded eagerly. Through the fussing of your son, he and Luke exited the room. "It hasn't been opened." You observed.
"I thought it best that you be the first to read it, my lady. The letter doesn't bear the sigil of your brother…" Ser Brandon admonished. That could only mean that Borros hadn't sent the letter. You returned to it, rolling it out and quickly reading it. 
"Dearest aunt, news has reached Storm's End of the King's death and I fear the news I bring is not good. Father has yet to declare his side but he has made his favor known. I fear for you and the Princess but I saw it best to tell you. Please, keep yourself and my little cousin safe, I hear he has grown a lot this past year.  
                                                           All my love,
                                                              Cassandra."
The parchment fell from your hands, gliding on the wind before it landed silently on the floor. Your heart was beating in your ears and your mind was spiraling in ways you couldn't comprehend. If what your niece says is true…then…
"Ser Brandon…not a word of this to my wife or husband. They've enough hardships on this day." You ordered, oddly calm. "My lady, I don't think it would be wise to keep-"
"That is an order, Ser Brandon."
The knight relented.
"Yes, my lady."
"My lady mother was an Arryn. The Vale shall not turn coat against their own kin." Rhaenyra admonished, as Daemon continued to relay their plans to the Queen. You watched from the side, fiddling with your rings. You couldn't deny the pride that filled your chest, seeing Rhaenyra wear her father's crown. She was the one that was promised, not her uncouth brother.
Yet, fear gripped you.
You had to get to Storm's End. 
Perhaps a familiar face shall sway your brother, as you had not seen one another for quite some time. It wasn't only your honor on the line, but that of your father's as well.
Lord Boremund Baratheon bent the knee to Rhaenyra and Baratheons were nothing if not honorable. You walked over to the table, taking one of the many pieces and placing it just south of Storm's End. "House Tarth has stayed loyal to my father for a long time. If we control the Straits of Tarth, we'll have control over the mainland around Shipbreaker Bay." You said, eyes catching Daemon for a moment.
His face was laden in a prideful smirk, as Rhaenyra grinned. It wasn't often that you involved yourself so directly. "Among the other houses, I can only speak for Penrose and Selmy." You added. "But the Eyrie, Storm's End and Winterfell should be our main priority." You said.
"I'll prepare the ravens, your Grace." 
"We should bear those messages." Jacaerys said, his voice eliciting shock within you. Rhaenyra acknowledged her son, silently telling him to continue. "Dragons fly faster than ravens, and they're more convincing." And with one final look, the Heir to the Iron Throne breathed.
"Send us." 
"Very well…Prince Jacaerys shall fly to the Eyrie where my mother's cousin, Lady Jeyne, is now the lady of the Vale. Then, he shall proceed to the North. As for the Prince Lucerys, he shall fly to Storm's End."
"Lucerys will do no such thing."
The room fell silent, your voice raised in a rare display of defiance. Both princes gave you startling stares, as Daemon's voice rang out. "Give us the room." 
And then there were three.
"Have you lost your mind, (Y/n)?"
"Have I? It is to my understanding that the lord of House Baratheon is my brother." You countered. "Perhaps our dear wife has a point, your grace." Daemon said, surprising the both of you. “Borros is a man that seeks power. Should he be swayed, we will have to prove our strength.’’ Daemon reasoned. “And sending (Y/n) is a show of this strength?’’ Rhaenyra countered.
 Perhaps it was her own mind still reeling from the loss of her daughter and father, but Rhaenyra was very adamant about not letting you leave the keep at all. You were too precious, too cherished.
And Rhaenyra couldn't bear the idea of Orys growing up without you either. 
"Nyra-your grace, I believe a familiar face will help a great deal. Should the prince Lucerys have to send the message, let me accompany him." You said. "The court at Storm's End will be honored by the presence of a Prince and by one of their own. We will show them that you are the right decision.” You concluded, your voice carrying a sense of wisdom. 
You could say that the hunter finally slew the doe. 
Truth be told, Daemon wasn't keen on the idea either. He too had already lost so much, and losing you would just be the final step into awaiting madness. Yet, Rhaenyra’s claim was being challenged. That alone placed you at much greater danger than a simple diplomatic excursion. Daemon was now behind you, the distance far enough to still be intimate. He took a moment to drink in your features, how your hair fell over your shoulders and how your body was adorned with the colors of his house. His eyes fell on your hands, where your one gold ring wrapped around your finger. 
“Alright…but you are to go as a messenger, not a warrior.’’ Rhaenyra relented and the relief that washed over you was indescribable. Lucerys would be glad for the company, you were sure. 
Rhaenyra excused herself, choosing to check on the preparations. You turned to Daemon, who rested his forehead against yours. A silent plea, a silent order for you to return to him. To return to Rhaenyra. “Once this is over, we will live as we deserve.’’ He whispered, his voice stern yet you could sense the fear in them. Your hand was gently placed on his neck. “I pray for it, Daemon. I really do. I can trust you will keep Orys occupied?’’ You inquired, more jokingly than anything else. Daemon smirked, taking your hand. “I believe it is time for our little one to have a dragon of his own.’’ Daemon proposed. Your talk was interrupted, a servant notifying you that it was time. 
“I would advise caution, little doe. Storms are rather unpredictable, aren’t they?’’
“Tis I who was born during one, dear husband. Lest you forget whom you asked for my hand.’’
You and Daemon exchanged goodbyes, sharing a long and feverish kiss before you departed. 
The sky was decorated with parting clouds, your form approaching Rhaenyra as she had one final talk with her sons. You gazed down at your ring, the stag staring right back at you. ‘Gods, should you hear me…let it not be true. Let my brother choose me.’ you thought wordlessly, approaching your wife. Lucerys nodded his head to you, as you smiled and stood next to the boy. “Storm’s End is a short flight from here, you shall return swiftly. Remember, you two come as messengers, not warriors.’’
“Yes mother-your grace.’’
“We'll be fine, my Queen. I suspect my brother shall be happy to see me." You said, earning a smile from Rhaenyra. As Lucerys took to preparing Arax, in the rare moment of privacy, Rhaenyra placed a kiss on your forehead. "If anything happens-"
"We'll be alright, Nyra. Storm's End is my home, no one will hurt me there." 
That seemed to bring some comfort to the queen, as her hold on you lightened. “We will return with news before the day is done. I swear it.’’
With one final goodbye, you and Lucerys soared through the clouds. 
“We should head inside, storms rolling in.’’ You warned, dismounting Arrax, who growled lowly. This confused both you and Lucerys. Your eyes looked up, right as a clap of lightning illuminated a beast so large, you felt your heart drop.
Vhagar.
What was Vhagar doing here? 
“What is Vhagar doing here?”Lucerys inquired, reading your mind almost perfectly. “I don’t know. Come, we must head inside.’’ You said, urging the young prince forward, as your eyes stayed on the massive beast until she was no longer in sight. 
The Keep was darker than you remembered.
The once torch lit halls were now scarce of light, sept for the guards. You walked behind Lucerys, as passing servants and guards bowed to you. Some even shared looks with one another, of worry and curiosity alike. Lucerys too took his surroundings, the keep unlike anything you had described. Truth be told, the sky had grayed and spats of lightning came from time to time, bathing the keep in white light before vanishing again. 
The two of you approached the hall, where the guards opened the large door. “Prince Lucerys Velaryon, son of Princess Rhaenyra and the lady (Y/n) Baratheon.’’ The court grew silent, your brother stopped in his chair as he watched you and Lucerys approach. Borros took your form, clad in Targaryen colors, yet one lone gold ring on your right finger. He regarded you quietly, like a begrudging father would a disobedient child. At the corner of your eye, you caught sight of a rather familiar  figure. Prince Aemond stood next to your niece, engaged in a rather timid looking conversation. Cassandra gave you a warm grin. 
“Lord Borros, we’ve brought you a message from my mother. The Queen.’’ 
“Yet earlier this day I received an envoy from the King. Which is it? A Queen or a King?’’ Borros bellowed. “House Baratheon bent the knee to Rhaenyra Targaryen all those years ago, or have you forgotten?’’ You piped up, causing an array of gasps to echo the hall.  Your brother shifted uncomfortably in his chair, as if he was hoping to not have to engage you. “Boy…what is your message?’’ He asked. You raised the letter to a guard, right when your brother called for the maester. As Borros took to the letter, Aemond gave both you and Lucerys his complete and utter attention. He gazed upon Lucerys with a hidden intent, which only made you wish to cloak the boy from his line of vision. 
“Aside from the reminder of my dearest sister, the king Aegon came with an offer. So boy, which one of my daughters shall you choose to wed?’’ Borros offered, gazing at Maris, Ellyn and Floris. Such a proposal brought you back to your younger years, when Daemon had asked for your hand. Lucerys admonished that he had already been betrothed, something that apparently upset your brother. “So you come here, parading my family and yet you are empty handed?’’ He inquired. 
“We’ve come in the hope that you would honor our father, brother.’’ You said, ignoring the lump that rose in your throat. There was only one way this could have gone now. “Our father is dead, sister. And his oath means little when the fate of our house is at stake.’’ Borros said. “Come home, the King has decreed that your marriage to Daemon be annulled, you and your son shall be welcomed here, sister.’’ He said. The words became a heavy weight on your heart. It broke you to see your brother to be so adamant about supporting Aegon. He was always against a woman holding such a position as Rhaenyra.
 Perhaps, should fate be cruel, the choice to stay here would have been the smart one. But you would rather die a thousand deaths then betray Rhaenyra and Daemon. 
“We shall take your message to the Queen, my lord.’’ You said, haste shielding your heart break. You and Lucerys turned to leave, before a voice stopped you dead in your tracks. 
“Wait.’’ Spoke Prince Aemond.  “My Lady Baratheon…my lord Strong.’’ He said, his purpose as clear as day. Your brother was now on his feet. “Did you really think you could fly around the realm, trying to steal my brothers throne?’’ Aemond required, taking short yet tactful steps toward the both of you. “I’m not going to fight you.’’ Lucerys said. “A fight would not be an issue.’’ Aemond spoke, gaze jumping to you before going back to Lucerys. The Prince reached for his eyepatch, taking it off and revealing a sapphire wedged into the socket. The sight shocked most of the court, Cassandra stepping away. “I want you to cut out your eye.’’ He said. “One will serve, I will not blind you.’’ He continued, brandishing a  dagger and throwing it at Lucerys’s feet. “I plan to make a gift of it to my mother.’’
You took a step toward the boy, only for Aemond to raise his hand. “I would advise you to step aside, my lady. Lest you wish to suffer the same fate.’’ He threatened and while that did frighten you, your stance remained still. “Perhaps I shall make a gift of your eyes as well…’’ Aemond uttered. “We will do no such thing, my prince.” You rejected. A silence passed, a swift sigh releasing from Aemond. “Then you are a craven as well as a whore.’’ He said. 
“Not here!’’ Borros bellowed.
“GIVE ME YOUR EYE OR I SHALL TAKE IT, BASTARD!’’ Aemond yelled, charging both you and Lucerys. “Not in my hall!’’ Borros yelled once more, “They came as envoys, not warriors. Take prince Lucerys back to his dragon. You, sister, are to remain here.’’ Borros said suddenly. Your brows rose in confusion, right when a guard seized you by the arm. "Brother, what is the meaning of this?"
"This is for your own good, sister."
The guard hauled you forward, his grip painful and unforgiving. You heard Lucerys's voice call to you. After what had just happened, you knew that you couldn't let him go back to Rhaenyra alone. Aemond Targeryen was many things, but he wasn't a man to let a grudge go. You pride yourself out of his grip, moving to take Lucerys by the hand.
"Come, we must leave now!" 
You cast one final glance at your brother, who called the guards off. You had made your allegiance known…and may the Gods be with you.
For your brother won't be.
@thexhorrorfreak @smileykiddie08 @darksat6rns @meeeeep5 @androgynouspersonapricotfan @evattude @fuckinglittlekitten
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anatay004 · 1 year
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ᴊᴀᴄᴀᴇʀʏꜱ ᴠᴇʟᴀʀʏᴏɴ | ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ɪ ᴅɪᴇ (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜱɪx)
Summary: After a blissful night of peace, war eventually breaks through Dragonstone when the king dies and your marriage with Jacaerys is suddenly at risk. He will not let war come you.
(A/N): So, sadly, this is the last part of the Love Me Not series! But I’ll be posting a longer version on AO3 soon this week, however, the story will be in depth and with an OC.
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ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴍᴇ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ
IT WAS THE sound of deafening screams that jolted you awake the next morning. Instinctively, you turned to your side and reached for Jacaerys, but his side of the bed was empty. You sucked in a breath, the breeze that ripped through the windows peppered goosebumps over your naked skin and you shivered at the cold.
Where was he?
Then you heard the screams again.
You climbed out of bed and changed at once.
You rushed through the corridors, heart hammering against your chest as your sister's screams strained your ears. You were disoriented, unaware of the trouble that was slithering within the walls of the castle as Rhaenyra began to birth her daughter.
"Sister," Rhaenyra hissed out when your frame stumbled into her line of vision. You swallowed the knot in your throat, the sight of her crimson nightgown and strangled moans made you falter in your spot. She was not ready to give birth. "Our father has passed."
Your head reeled.
Oh, you thought.
Somewhere in the haze, her screams broke into your reverie again. You blinked, but your muscles could not move, the news push forward an unmoored plague that pestered your reason. You were standing in the room, but the light of humanity dimmed in your irises and you were nothing more than a shadow as she screamed for the babe to come out – nothing more.
"My love," Jacaerys' voice made you flinch, but his touch comforted you almost immediately as he anchored his hands on your arms tenderly.
"The greens have repudiated the succession and claimed the iron throne." Rhaenyra continued, a cry of pain clogged in her throat.
Your skin pricked with goosebumps.
"Aegon has been crowned King."
Jacaerys' fingers tightened around your arms.
"What is it to be done about it?" Jacaerys spat, a heated tone wrapped around his words.
"Nothing yet!" Rhaenyra cried.
You exhaled sharply. "Fuck..."
"Where is Daemon?" Jacaerys demanded, his hands dropped to his sides, fisting in anger.
"I don't know," Rhaenyra answered. "Gone to madness, gone to plan his war."
Jacaerys clenched his jaw.
"Jace..." You began, but he dismissed you and made to leave the room at once to look for Daemon. You knew the war was coming, it lingered in your skin the moment he let go of you and you shivered at the sudden coldness.
Beside you, Lucerys searched for your hand.
"Jace," Rhaenyra berated, making your husband stop in his tracks momentarily. "Whatever claim remains to me, you are now its heir."
You swallowed hard.
You were to be queen soon.
"Naught it is to be done but by my command."
Jacaerys remained silent, a searing heat flashed across his eyes as he looked back at his mother – he was furious, you'd never seen him like this before. He eventually nodded and walked out of the room without bothering to look back.
Luke squeezed your hand in comfort before following his brother.
You followed his frame with sad eyes.
Your father was dead.
And so will many others soon.
━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━
You were there when Rhaenyra birthed a corpse.
And you were there when her daughter's body was wrapped in coarse and grainy bandages.
She had been born dead.
And now, you were standing amongst the crowd outside the castle, watching from afar the sullied funeral that deemed the crown cursed. Within a blink of an eye, everything fell into chaos, and, with your father's death, you feared the worse was yet to come.
So, you watched in silence.
Jacaerys was standing next to you, but his presence felt as if it was miles away from you. He wallowed in his thoughts and you didn't question it, not at first, it seemed rather reasonable given the tragic circumstances. So, you let him be and focused your attention on Joffrey instead. The child was perplexed, he hugged your legs in search of comfort and you raked a hand through his curls in affection.
"It's okay," You lowly whispered when the little boy looked up in search of your gaze. "Everything will be alright."
Jacaerys shifted a little beside you.
"I swear to ward the Queen," Erryk Cargill's voice strained your ears, he kneeled before Rhaenyra and offered her the King's crown. "With all my strength..."
You narrowed your eyes at the scene.
Your father's crown.
A pain retaliated in the pit of your stomach.
He was dead too.
"My Queen," Daemon kneeled, after placing the crown on Rhaenyra's head – Queen Rhaenyra. Everyone followed his actions soon after, kneeling before your sister in affirmation of their loyalty and support.
A tang of crimson settled down your throat.
You kneeled too.
━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━
"What is our standing?"
"We have thirty knights, a hundred crossbowmen, and three hundred men-at-arms."
After the funeral, the counsel room ensued with tension as everyone gathered to plan for war. You were standing beside Rhaenyra, listening to everyone's back-and-forth discussion with little interest on your part.
You wanted to get out.
Something about withholding the mourning of your father's death and the possible confrontation with your brothers made you sick. It marred your face with shadows, it was more than evident you weren't feeling well.
You sucked in a breath.
You wanted to wallow in your memories. You wanted to burrow in the recesses of your mind and trace back to when Viserys was your only home. You wanted to go back to when Aemond and Aegon pestered you day and night, to when they were your loyal company and you were theirs. You wanted to go back so bad.
But those days were gone.
"Your grace, a ship has been sighted offshore." Erryk Cargill announced, and you blinked in sudden realization – your brothers. "A lone galleon, flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon."
Idiots, you thought.
"Alert the watchtowers. Sight the skies." Daemon commanded, and soon after, everyone began to make their way outside.
You were nervous.
So, you decided to wait for Jacaerys, falling back a few steps to allow everyone else to make their way through. You wanted his comfort and his words of consolation, but you were more than surprised when he didn't slow down his pace and, instead, walked past you awarely.
You faltered on your spot as he disappeared through the corridors.
He didn't even spare you a glance.
You clenched your jaw, trying to feign an unfazed look on your face as you made to walk out of the room. You cursed him silently, a few hours ago, he had made love to you and whispered dulcet words of affection in your ears, but – now, he was acting as if you were invisible.
You didn't walk to your room that afternoon. Instead, you made your way to the only person who could ever provide you with affection.
"You don't look well, auntie," Lucerys admitted when you knocked and walked into his room. You didn't answer for a moment, instead, you offered him a faint smile. "Are you okay?"
"Of course," You mumbled, but he didn't believe you. The uneasy expression on his face made it evident, but you tried to dismiss it. "It's been a tough time day, hasn't it?"
He looked down at his hands. "Rather stupid."
You tried to stifle a chuckle. "Stupid is an interesting choice of word."
Lucerys' lips itched. "That's how it feels."
You opened your mouth to answer, but his arms wrapped around your waist before you could. He pressed his head against your chest in affection, arms tight around your frame as if he was almost afraid of letting you go for a second.
You returned the hug.
"I'm scared," He admitted.
Your heart shattered.
"I'm scared too," You whispered, and placed a soft kiss on top of his head that made his grip tighten around you. You weren't sure how long it lasted, but the blissful moment made the raw wound inside your chest stop bleeding for a minute – it almost cured the malady.
For a second, you felt safe.
And he did too.
━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━
You ended up sleeping in Lucerys room. In between whispers and hushes, he had told you about his worries and insecurities about disappointing everyone, including you.
"You could never disappoint me," You had assured him that night quietly, "Nothing in the world could ever make me love you less."
He squeezed your hand underneath the sheets.
When morning came, you climbed out of bed and made your way out in silence, tiptoeing around to avoid disturbing his sleep. After debating with yourself, you eventually made your way back to your chamber, but the room was empty as you expected. The sheets, however, were untidy and well slept in – that brought you a little comfort.
Jace had slept here.
Your handmaidens soon bathed and helped you change into a comfortable dress to attend breakfast alone. You walked around the corridors in silence, chewing the inside of your cheeks as you tried to comprehend everything that had tumbled down in a matter of hours, but it didn't take long for your husband to find you.
"Where the hell were you last night?" He hissed, hand suddenly latched onto your wrist.
You pulled your hand back. "Why do you care?"
He gave you a look. "You're my wife, have you forgotten that tiny detail?"
You narrowed your eyes at him. "Unbelievable."
How valiant of him to act clueless.
How fucking valiant of him to confront you.
You rolled your eyes at him and made to walk away, but he latched his hand onto your elbow and pulled you back effortlessly.
"Where were you?" He spat through his teeth. This time, there was a tick in his jaw and a familiar hint of anger glossed his eyes – he was jealous, but he didn't dare to blurt it out.
Your lips itched. "How bad does it concern you, my love?"
He exhaled sharply. "How bad do you fucking think? Must I repeat myself?"
You relished his sudden outburst, but the feeling soon quenched down when the memory of his indifference conquered your thoughts.
"What games are you playing?" You questioned, pulling back from his touch. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but you took a deliberate step closer despite his glare. "Do you think I'm some kind of whore you can fuck and ignore when you please?"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"My father passed and you didn't even dare to look my way yesterday. Not once did you offer consolation, instead, you treated me as nothing more than a shadow behind your pace."
"Perhaps, not everything was about you? My mother lost her father too and she wasn't weeping in hopes for someone to offer a hug."
You faltered on your spot.
Oh.
You felt a wave of heat roll over your skin, but the searing anger made your lips tighten into a thin line – no answer. And he was adamant in his stance because he didn't relent despite the hurt expression on your face; not one bit.
"My prince, your mother requests your presence along with the princess's."
"We shall be there in a moment."
But you walked away before he could look at you.
"Love, wait – "
But you didn't stop.
His words touched your chest, something about them made your breath still inside your lungs and tears collect at the bottom of your eyelids. You brushed them away with the back of your hand roughly as you cursed his name.
Damn him and damn his fucking head.
━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━
"The narrow sea is ours," Lord Corlys finally announced, declaring an alliance with your sister in the counsel room. She was taken aback for a second before a small smile itched on her lips. "If we further deal the Gullet, we can cut off all seaborne travel and trade to King's Landing..."
You were standing next to Lucerys, tracing arbitrary patterns over the wood map. You were quiet – too quiet, thinking about the cruel tragedies that bruised your heart. Your father was dead, your husband was being cruel and your sister was planning a war.
You chewed the inside of your cheek again.
You wanted to walk out, but the tough tension in the room rushed the air out of your lungs and tried to suffocate you and only you. You wanted no war and no part in rebellions and deaths, but even the fool of your heart knew neither was an option for someone like you.
So, you inhaled shakily.
From the corner of your eyes, you caught a small glance of Jacaerys – searching for you.
You looked down at your hands. After his words, you didn't want to interact with him.
"We should bear those messages." Jacaerys suddenly spoke, after your sister had requested to send ravens to Winterfell, the Eyrie, and Storm's End. "Dragons can fly faster than ravens and they are more convincing."
You looked at him then.
Your face was marred with utter shock, despite your current differences, you were not prepared to let him walk into an open field of danger and cruelty. Your eyebrows knitted together in evident disapproval, but he dismissed it.
"Send us."
Your breath stilled in your throat.
After a hesitant moment, Rhaenyra eventually answered, "Very well, then. Prince Jacaerys and my sister will fly North – "
" – Not my wife," Jace interjected. "She will not be placed in the middle of the battlefield."
You narrowed your eyes at him.
No, he will not do this to me, you thought.
"Princess (Y/N) rides the largest dragon on our side, if convincing is what we need, her dragon will certainly do plenty." Lord Corlys stated, his answer earned approving nods from the council, but Jacaerys was adamant.
"Perhaps, she can patrol Dragonstone along with Daemon, she has the biggest dragon on our side as you mentioned, it will be needed here if the greens dare to come again."
"I do not wish to stay in Dragonstone," You finally spoke, darting your husband a look before turning to face your sister. "I can travel North with Baelor and convince the Starks to honor the oath they once made to you. I've heard Lord Cregan Stark is closer to my age than most in this room, I can assure you I can do it."
Jacaerys rolled his eyes.
Rhaenyra pensively looked at you, but there was a hint of hesitation in her blue irises as Jacaerys looked back at her with utter challenge.
"She my wife, I have the final word."
"No, you do not – " You tried, but he interrupted with a tone of finality that made everyone quiet.
"I am your husband and future heir to the iron throne, you will do as I say. No Queen can dissipate that, not even my mother."
You were furious, words couldn't describe the ferocious anger that flitted across your face. You hated him at that moment, he belittled in front of the council – and for what? You wanted to yell and fight, but the words never ripped past your lips and, instead, you decided to finally walk out of the room.
And this time, he did follow.
━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━
"What is it that you want from me?" You eventually questioned, when he stepped inside your chamber and made to walk closer to you.
"I want to keep you safe! Is it so hard for you to comprehend?" He defended, narrowing his eyes as he examined your features carefully. You looked back at him with bitter anger, soft irises torched with copper and gold.
"Is that so?" You challenged. "Is that why you belittled me and deemed me nothing more than a wife in front of everyone in the counsel?"
He clenched his jaw. "I do not wish for you to accompany me to the North, I can not risk your life for an alliance that I am not certain of yet."
You scuffed. "Bullshit."
Jacaerys sighed, but his muscles slowly dropped at the sight of the tension in your shoulders. You waited for an answer, but he took a step closer instead. You held back your breath as he slide an arm behind your waist gently. "You're right, I shouldn't have said those things in front of the council. I became desperate and clung to the safest option that would keep you in Dragonstone without a challenge from anyone.
"But I do not wish to stay here."
"And I do not wish to put you in danger."
"Then we're both imbeciles." You whispered, dropping your gaze to his lips subconsciously. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head in evident stress before tracing soft patterns over your back.
"Perhaps," He admitted, tilting his head to the side before lowly adding, "The things I said about your father's death, it was all a lie, I stepped out of line and I apologize for it. I should've been there to offer comfort like the husband I am, but I was so fucking scared of losing everyone."
"Jace – " You began, but he shook his head and his fingers pulled your face towards him.
" – I can't lose you." He stated, words vehement and firm as they slipped out his lips. You swallowed hard, examining his features with careful eyes – he was being sincere.
You nibbled your bottom lip.
"Let me go North with you." You pleaded, and he shifted a little on his heels at your sudden words. "You speak of fear and regret as if they're foreign to me. Have you ever stopped to think about how your injuries or possible death could affect me? I would much rather die than watch you go."
I let go of my father once too, you thought, and hell eventually happened.
He opened his mouth to speak, but you interrupted.
"Please, Jace," You whispered, and his lips swiftly met yours at the exposed vulnerability that ripped through your facade. You kissed him back, allowing the pain that retaliated in the pit of your stomach to dissipate at once.
After a moment, he pulled away and leaned his forehead pensively against yours.
"Okay," He finally breathed out, "Let's go North."
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reneeofthestars · 5 months
Text
Reunion
Excited to share the short story I wrote for "Star-Crossed: An Anidala Zine" @anidalazine ! A "Padme Lives" AU
Words: 2,585 * Read on AO3
******************************
Padmé Naberrie Amidala, former Queen of Naboo, former Galactic Senator, and current member of the Rebellion, had been in her share of tight spots before. 
But this was the first time the tight spot was an Imperial holding cell.
She’d already examined every inch of the enclosed dimly-lit space, searching for a weakness she could exploit, but found none. There was no access panel, no loose wiring, and no ventilation system large enough for her to squeeze through. So Padmé sat on the bench and watched the door, working on what she would say when an officer inevitably came to interrogate Sola Minnau.
After all, Padmé Amidala was dead.
For a while, Padmé thought she was dead. The galaxy around her swirled in hot reds and blues, then cold blacks and whites. Grief so raw it threatened to tear her apart, pain unlike any she had experienced, then stillness. Such perfect, silent stillness. She was weightless, drifting through some gentle embrace where there was no pain. No suffering.
It was the babies’ cries that called her back.
Once she was well enough to sit upright, she held her children close to her. Leia had Padmé’s eyes; Luke had Anakin’s. She was given privacy to cry. And once she had no more tears to shed, she set to work.
Padmé contacted Sabé, and her dearest friend organized the rest. Gathering Padmé’s former handmaidens, they worked swiftly to organize a body double and a funeral, and before long, the people of Naboo mourned the death of Padmé Amidala.
Heart aching but determined, Padmé had agreed to have her children separated – from her, and from each other. Having lost Anakin, Palpatine would turn his interest to the children if he knew they lived. Obi-Wan disappeared into the Outer Rim with Luke, and Bail falsified Leia’s birth records and took her into his home.
Over the years, Padmé – Sola Minnau, now – worked closely with Bail, Mon Mothma, and other trusted allies, establishing contacts, supply lines, and information networks. They smuggled food and medicine to communities being bled dry by the Empire, and helped those in danger disappear, all while trying to bolster support to resist the ever-growing dominance of the Empire over all worlds.
They all knew the risks. If they were caught, they could be subject to execution, or worse. But Padmé couldn’t stop. She would help, no matter the cost. She had spent her childhood on relief missions with her father, and she hadn’t been able to stand by while her people suffered when she was queen. She wouldn’t hide now.
That’s the thought that kept her focused when the contact on Rodia ended up being an Imperial informant. They had barely greeted each other before Padmé was surrounded by stormtroopers. Padmé had kept quiet, giving only her pseudonym when they initially questioned her. The troopers marched her onto a shuttle, and once they’d boarded the Star Destroyer in orbit, she’d been taken to a holding cell.
She took a deep breath and leaned back against the cold wall. In the twelve years since the fall of the Republic, Padmé had never been taken aboard a capital ship. With no communication or resources, help wasn’t coming. Padmé was on her own.
The door of the holding cell hissed open. She stood as a towering black-clad figure stepped in. Coarse, mechanical breathing filled the room; Padmé forced down a shudder. They had never crossed paths, but she recognized him from endless holos and horror stories, from the expressionless helmeted mask, from the lightsaber hanging from his belt.
Darth Vader.
*
Darth Vader’s breath would have hitched if his respirator hadn’t dragged the air from his lungs and reinflated them automatically. His heart would have stopped if the cardiac regulator hadn’t measured out steady heartbeats. The servos in his legs whirred as the galaxy was swept from under his feet and he nearly fell to his knees, so overcome with the emotions that suddenly raged inside him.
Padmé was alive. Alive, breathing, not five feet away.
No, that couldn’t be. She was dead. Vader had observed her funeral on Naboo, had mourned at her tomb. This was some trick, some deception meant to rattle him; the Emperor himself was likely behind this, testing Vader’s resolve. What was this trickery then? A PROXY droid? A Force Apparition? A Changeling? Perhaps a handmaiden?
But as Vader and his dead wife stared at one another, he shakily reached out with the Force, and felt – Padmé. Her existence thrummed in the Force, whole and strong, with that same vibrance he remembered from so long ago.
But she’d never looked at him like this. Anger burning in her eyes, resolve in the set of her lips, defiance in her stance. He’d seen her look at others like this and he’d admired her dedication and determination. But to have her glaring at him now, with loathing and defiance… he felt unsettled.
Padmé didn’t waste time. “On what grounds was I arrested?” she demanded. “It’s unlawful to take a citizen into custody without disclosing the nature of the supposed criminal activity.”
The current Admiral of The Executor had been so smug when he’d approached Vader to announce that a rebel insurgent had been captured. Vader had strode to the detention block, flanked by two stormtroopers, ready to wring out all the information he could from the rebel scum –
Of course she would be with the Rebellion. The Empire was the very thing that she had been so concerned about creating during the Clone Wars.
He forced himself to speak. “Conspiracy against the Empire.” His synthesized voice rang out in the enclosed space, so warped and pitched that she would never realize who she spoke to.
But did he really want her to know? Did he want Padmé to know what became of Anakin Skywalker? To see this broken, twisted husk of what remained? Would she want to know? Vader had killed Anakin Skywalker, had carved out everything that remained of the naïve Jedi, everything that Padmé had loved, until only Vader remained.
She was speaking, and Vader said nothing. He just… listened to her voice, bringing to mind memories of her practicing her speeches the night before important Senate sessions, as he half-listened, so happy that the Force had their paths cross all those years ago in Watto’s shop –
Fury burned in Vader’s core and he let it fester, let it burn away at the memories of the man he had killed. He turned his head, addressing the two stormtroopers standing in the cramped cell just behind him. “Leave us.”
Hastily, the troopers filed out, the door sliding closed behind them.
His breathing filled the silence; Padmé had stopped talking when Vader spoke. He felt her fear, though it did not show on her face.
“Do you have nothing to say?”
She had come to him on Mustafar, knowing what he’d done. Even as she betrayed me, she loved me.
It was the last thing she said to him; Vader heard it in his nightmares, sometimes. “Stop, stop now, come back. I love you. Anakin…”
Grief welled in him, and he spoke before he could stop himself. “I thought I lost you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’ve never met.”
“You were alive, I knew you were, but I felt – I felt our bond break.” His emotions roiled through him. “You were gone, he said –“
Hatred .
“He said I killed you,” Vader rumbled. “He said I killed you in a fit of anger, and when I couldn’t sense you, I believed him. The Emperor lied to me. He’s kept you from me all these years, knowing that I –”
That he what? Would have left Emperor Palpatine’s side? That he would run away with his long-lost wife? That he would kill her?
Padmé’s eyes had gone wide, frightened, incredulous as she stared at him. In a small voice, so quiet he almost didn’t hear: “…Anakin?”
The anguish threatened to consume him.
“Anakin Skywalker is dead.” He paused. “I…am what remains.”
She stared at him for so long, so silently, that Vader wondered if this might be a dream after all. “What…what happened?”
“It is because of Obi-Wan that I am like this,” he hissed.
“No! He would never hurt you! He loved you –”
“Enough! I don’t need to hear empty assurances.”
Fear lingered in her eyes, but that spark had returned. “If you can’t believe he loved you, what about our love?”
“I loved you more than I can ever express. I did everything for you – I would continue to do anything for you – ”
“Except come with me.”
“You brought Obi-Wan to kill me.”
“No! I didn’t know! I didn’t know he’d snuck aboard my ship.” And Vader was startled to hear the truth of her words reverberate in the Force. Taking a hesitant step forward, Padmé’s eyes flickered between the lenses of his mask, as though trying to see through them. “All I wanted was you. For us to be safe, and happy. We didn’t need anything else. Even…even after everything you did…”
“It was necessary. To bring order to the galaxy, to gain powers of the Force that would save –” Vader stopped abruptly. “The child. Does the child live?”
She bristled, and that was all the answer he needed.  
He turned from her, but he didn’t see the cold cell around them. He saw a child splashing in the lakes of Naboo, Padmé laughing as she chased them, and Anakin Skywalker watched them from the grass, smiling and happy, whole and unburnt.
And then his vision clouded with red, and black, and Darth Vader’s fury returned, wiping out the scene of peace that had been stolen from him. Because it had been stolen from him. If he had never pledged himself to the Emperor, never razed the Jedi Temple, never succumbed to the Dark Side, if the Emperor hadn’t lied to him about Padmé’s death… 
“Anakin?”
He jolted out of his seething reverie. Padmé’s expression was carefully controlled, but Vader could sense her unease, her fear, her… hope.
Her steady voice held more gentleness than he deserved. “What happens now?”
Now, the Emperor would die. Now, Vader would have revenge. Now…
He turned on his heel and waved his hand, the cell door opening, harsh white light spilling into the dim space.
“Bring her,” he commanded.
The stormtroopers moved immediately, pulling Padmé from her cell and marching her behind him. He could feel her eyes boring into the back of his helmet, but he didn’t turn around. If he took the time to explain, he might lose his nerve.
And neither Darth Vader nor Anakin Skywalker ever lost their nerve.
*
Padmé wanted to cry. She wanted to curl into the corner of some isolated place and sob her heart out. Instead, she raised her chin and walked as upright as she could as the stormtroopers escorted her behind the towering Sith.
How had the man she loved become the most feared monster in the galaxy?
She had believed, all those years ago, that there was still good in Anakin, even as he turned his back on everything he believed because he thought it would save her. But when Obi-Wan said that Anakin was dead –
Obi-Wan. Did he know that Anakin lived? Did he know what had become of his best friend? Had Obi-Wan lied to her about Anakin’s death, the way the Emperor lied to Anakin? No, she couldn’t believe that. He had been nearly as distraught as her. He couldn’t have known.
With all her heart, Padmé wanted to believe that there was still some sliver of good left in the creature that was Darth Vader; some glimmer of Anakin that she could recognize. But the horrific things that Vader had done… She watched the Imperials scatter from him in fear as Vader led her through the maze of corridors. How many had he killed? Tortured? He continued to hunt down surviving Jedi, relentlessly pursued Rebel insurgents, left ruins in his wake.
Could there really be good left in such a man?
She had to believe there was.
The corridor opened to a hanger bay. TIE fighters, small cargo ships, and shuttles lined the platform; technicians, pilots, deck crew, officers, and troopers moved in tightly organized groups, or else with purpose from one task to another. Darth Vader ignored them all, heading straight for a shuttle.
Technicians tending to the shuttle tripped over themselves as they leapt to attention.
“Lord Vader! We weren’t informed of a scheduled departure –”
“An apt statement, as I don’t often operate on schedules.” The man flinched. “I have need of my shuttle. Is it suitable?”
“Yes, my lord! It has been returned to your specifications.”
As the deck crew hurriedly cleared away their equipment, Padmé couldn’t help a twinge of familiarity; of course Anakin would be particular about his ship. So that, at least, had remained.
Darth Vader stood at the landing ramp and faced her. The troopers shoved her forward. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his hand twitch. But he didn’t strike. Instead, he stepped in front of them. “That will be all.”
“Sir?” one of them asked confusedly.
“I am not accustomed to repeating myself.” The low, warning tone sent a shiver up Padmé’s spine.
“Yessir,” the other said hastily, stepping back. The first trooper went to speak, thought better of it, and followed his fellow soldier.
Darth Vader’s shadow fell over her as she walked into the ship. Despite the size of the shuttle, there wasn’t much room inside; half the interior was taken up by some spherical mechanism, like a ball-shaped chamber.
“What’s happening?” she asked, doing her best to keep her tone calm.
Instead of answering, Vader swept past her, cape billowing behind him as he strode to the cockpit. “Strap in until we enter hyperspace.”
Her stomach flipped. Where was he taking her? Why didn’t he bring any guards along? Tense, she lowered herself into a seat and adjusted the safety harness. Darth Vader – Anakin – no, she couldn’t think of him as Anakin – Vader sat in the pilot's seat, expertly flipping switches and adjusting controls until the ship hummed to life.
The harsh white of the hanger bay ended as they emerged into the blackness of space. She could just spy Rodia through the viewport as Vader turned the ship and input coordinates. Coordinates to where? Within moments, the stars warped and stretched, before slingshotting them into the blue-white of hyperspace.
Gathering herself, Padmé undid the harness and stood. Vader made no movement as she walked into the cockpit. Even when she stood beside him, he didn’t turn to look at her. She gazed out the viewport feeling like she was hurtling towards –
“I will take you anywhere you want to go.”
A breath escaped Padmé. “What?”
Vader said nothing.
“You’re –” she sat heavily in a little-used copilots chair. “You’re helping me escape?”
“You will be interrogated as a Rebel spy. You may be tortured, or killed. And if the Emperor discovered your identity, he may take personal interest.”
After a long moment he added softly, “I cannot lose you again.”
With a trembling hand, she reached over and touched the side of that black mask. Finally, he turned to face her. It may have been a trick of the lenses, but for just a moment, she thought she saw his eyes illuminated in the light of hyperspace. Anakin’s eyes. Luke’s eyes.
“Come with me.”
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spencerreidswhore187 · 10 months
Text
Checkmate (Part Four)
By @spencerreidswhore187 for @sackofpissandshit
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
Summary: Spencer finds out that reader is not who he thought they were. (Lots of angst)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Unsub (g!n) Reader
Word Count: 3K
TW: Death, kidnapping, mentions of assault, blood, strong-ish language
A/N: Hi! Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reblogged and followed Checkmate, it means the world to me. I’m working ever day this week (curse tourists) so I stayed up really late last night to finish this. I hope you like it! ◡̈
You ran. You ran and ran and ran, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. You could barely stand but nevertheless, you ran. You did not know where you were going but it did not matter, you had to keep running. The alternative was the nightmare that replayed in your mind every night when you tried to fall asleep. 
You used the surrounding trees to push yourself forward, your coarse palms scarping the rough bark. You stumbled over the forest floor, unsure how much further you could go. But that doubt was not strong enough to override your natural instinct to run. Even if it killed you, you would never stop running - it wasn’t even an option. 
Numb, cold, and alone, you were sure your feet were bleeding. You weren’t sure how long you’d been running. Your mind was bleeding also, your brain swelled with depressing thoughts. Thoughts you could not stand. Thoughts you had to escape. If only you could outrun your conscience as fast as you could outrun the truth.
There was blood everywhere. Crimson stained your hands and clung to your hair and face. Its metallic scent flooded your nose, it was nauseating. Still, you ran. Your shirt had been white, before, now it was the colour of rubies. 
Spencer had once told you that the human body contained almost five litres of blood; you wondered how much engulfed you, now. You wondered how a body could hold this much blood. 
Some of it was yours, you thought, but you weren’t sure. There was too much to belong to just one person. 
There were endless questions that needed answering but it was futile as you ran. Run you repeated your mantra: run, run run. You would keep running, forever if you had to, until you found him.
Until you found Spencer. 
——————————————————————————————————
Six Hours Earlier: 
Spencer knew how the team would react well before he even proposed the idea.
They were all sitting around the round table discussing what they were to do about you, when he said, “We have the wrong person. Y/N didn’t do this.”
“Reid,” Emily sighed, “we’ve been over this.” 
“I know…I-look, Emily, I’m not saying they’re innocent but they didn’t kill this group of people.”
“So,” Luke interrupted, “that doesn’t make them any less of a killer.” 
Spencer knew he was right, he needed the others to believe it too. 
“I understand that and I agree - I really do - but there is another killer out there.”
“We don’t know that-”
“Yes, we do! I showed you the tapes.” Spencer had felt wretched to do so but it was protocol and he needed the team, his friends, and his family, to know who they were up against. That didn’t make him feel any less guilty though, sharing secrets that had been meant for his ears only. 
Luke held his head in his hands, hoping Spencer would eventually see some sense. 
Garcia took them all by surprise when she defended him,
“Spencer is right, newbie. Yes, Y/N is guilty and yes they are dangerous but right now they aren’t a threat,” the colourful bangles draped across Penelope’s wrists clattered as she gesticulated wildly, “this Ben dude is and we can’t catch him without Y/N.” 
She was right, they all knew it. That didn’t mean they liked it though. 
Emily eventually broke the silence, speaking into her phone “Take them Y/N L/N out of their holding cell and bring them to me immediately. Do not remove their handcuffs.” 
Emily hung up the call and turned to face the BAU, scanning their reactions. 
“Garcia, I need you to go through 911 phone calls regarding missing children from around twelve to fourteen years ago. Tara, you, Luke and Rossi talk to Y/N - see what information you can get from them, and bring in a sketch artist. Reid, you’re with me. Let’s go.”
“What? Why?” 
“You cannot be near them, you know this.” 
“But-”
“No, Spencer. I need you focused. Let’s see if we can link Ben to other crimes in the area.” 
“I can’t.”
“Then go home.” 
Spencer wanted to but there were too many bad memories within those walls. What used to be their holy ground was now a crime scene.
——————————————————————————————————
You hated orange, it was such a frustratingly bright colour - it made you stand out when you’re whole life you had been trained to blend into the shadows. You felt stupid in the orange jumpsuit, chains binding your wrists together.
Two women clung to your arms and pulled you out of the elevator. You were relieved to escape the tight box, you hated small spaces - they made you feel like you couldn’t breathe. 
The Keith brothers had locked in a wardrobe for days whenever you misbehaved. 
Being in tiny rooms made you feel eight years old again, curled in a ball in an infinite darkness. Crying, begging for food or water. 
You’d never told Spencer that you were claustrophobic but somehow he figured it out. It must be the profiler in him. No matter where you were or how many flights there were, he would always take the stairs with you, holding firmly onto your hand. He would always drive, get the bus or walk miles for you because he knew that you couldn’t be on trains without being consumed by intense fear. 
You wished Spencer was here now, to hold your hand, to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. 
But both of you knew, deep down, that would never happen again. You were living a delusion, yet it was so much better than the reality. 
You were led back to the same interrogation room as before. You sat, patiently, as the guards tied your chains to the table before exiting.
Agent Rossi and Lewis were already seated opposite you and Luke Alvez was standing, leaning against a large mirror.
You wondered if Spencer was there, watching you. 
You chewed at your cheek whilst you waited for the agents to say something. 
“Tell us about Ben,” Lewis instructed. 
This was your only shot at freedom - you knew better than to risk it. 
“I don’t know his full name, he was always just Ben, or, um, the Bandit.”
Agent Rossi stood up rapidly. 
“What did you just say?” He demanded.
“The Bandit?”
“Shit,” you heard Alvez whisper.
You’d never been one of the people who referred to Ben as ‘The Bandit’, he was always just Ben to you, once you had overheard a group of older men calling him that.
You remembered Beth, the only one who had treated you with any kindness telling you stories of the Bandit and his army of dead. She would stroke your hair as you went to sleep and tell you made-up stories of him and all his crimes. You weren’t well-liked by the others - they detested you for being Ben’s favourite, the one he always selected for missions. 
It was only a few years ago that you’d discovered that the Bandit was real and he was, in fact, Ben. You never believed Beth’s stories, though…until now.
“It’s what some of the others would call him,” you explained.
Luke slipped out of the room and Tara and Rossi glanced at each other.
“Y/N,” Lewis asked gently, “Do you know where Ben is?”
You nodded. “He has an estate on the outskirts of Virginia. Maybe thirty miles away from here: Ivylands Manor.”
Rossi went to leave the room, “Lewis, you stay here. I’ll be back in a few.”
Agent Lewis turned back to face you, “You’ve been very helpful Y/N, if you could just give me a description of Ben for our sketch artist, we’ll be sure to let the courts know.” 
—————————————————————————————————--
Spencer and Emily were deep in files when Luke and Rossi came rushing in.
“Emily, we have a problem.”
Spencer’s heart started racing, a million incidents rushing through his mind. He needed you to be okay, he couldn’t let the last thing he ever said to you be a threat. He couldn’t let the last thing he ever did to you be pretending he didn’t hear you say ‘I love you.’
Because he did. It has played on a loop in his mind ever since.
You were a criminal, an unsub, why did he still desperately want to kiss you. 
“Ben is actually Ben Smyth, the Bandit.” 
“As in-”
“The Gallagher murders? Yes.” 
The Gallagher murders had occurred ten years ago. Over the span of six weeks, each member of the Gallagher family had been brutally murdered, one by one. It had started with the Father who had been shot through the head. At the time it had been assumed suicide. The family had grieved for two days before the youngest child, only fourteen months old, had been drowned in the bathtub in the middle of the night. 
The murders went on and on until the only person alive was fifteen-year-old Bethany Gallagher. When she was taken, in the middle of a cold, harsh night, was ‘THE BANDIT’ written in blood on the wall. 
The same exact crime occurred in nine other households across the country. The police never figured out who did it. It was a case that had driven Gideon mad. 
There had been a partial fingerprint discovered at the seventh crime scene - the Miller family. It had been traced to a Ben Smyth, aged forty-seven. No one could track him down, though. 
“Y/N gave us the address,” Rossi said. 
“Get the SUVs. We leave now.”
Spencer looked up, “what about…”
“They’re coming with us. We are going to need the element of surprise. Y/N will be the bait.”
The next ten minutes were a blur. 
Spencer was deafened by a sharp ringing sound in his ears as you emerged from the interrogation room. He could see your rigid face despite the awkward angle you are being held at. The bruised bags beneath your eyes were sunken, exhaustion etched into your features. Spencer could not comprehend how you still managed to look so beautiful. 
JJ kept a hand on Spencer’s shoulder as you were walked to the changing rooms to be dressed in your old clothes and given an earpiece. 
Emily reiterated the plan. 
“Y/N will go in first and locate Smyth, closely followed by Reid and Alvez. The rest of us will hang back and watch the perimeter. Does that sound okay?”
There was a collective ‘yes’ from the team before getting into the black cars.
Luke sat in the driver’s seat, you and Spencer were in the back. You were still handcuffed. 
“Tell me again, what I’m doing,” you asked him. You already knew the answer but you just wanted to hear his voice one last time - you had a feeling this might be the last time you saw him. 
The SUV sped along the road, sirens flashing. 
“You have an earpiece in?”
“Yes.”
“Agent Prentiss will feed you instructions as you enter the Ivylands. SSA Luke Alvez and I will be close behind you. We just need you to keep him distracted so we can arrest him with as few casualties as possible.” 
You nodded wordlessly, staring down at your feet. Is this the end for us? You wanted to ask. You wanted Spencer to hold you and tell you it will all be okay. That tomorrow you will go home and watch Doctor Who or play a game of chess. 
You could feel Spencer staring at you. 
His large hand reached out and stroked your cheek before pulling the earpiece out of your own, repeating the same action on his own. 
Spencer leaned in towards you and whispered, “I wish things were different.” 
“But they’re not,” you breathed. “Do you love me?” 
You needed to hear him say it for the final time. 
“I-you lied to me, you tricked me. God, Y/N, you broke my heart.” He ran his hands through his hair.
“But do you love me?”
“I can’t!”
“It’s sad,” you sighed, tired of this game, “You ask someone about love and they tell you about heartbreak.” 
The cracks in Spencer’s heart kept growing. 
He remembered your first date, deep down he already knew he loved you then. 
You’d gone straight from the cemetery to the cinema. You’d watched Die Hard, Spencer was enamoured with your grin that was plastered across your face throughout the whole film. It made him want to rush to the shops and buy the entire franchise. It was late December, fairy lights were hung in the streets and you bumped your shoulder against his as you tried to convince him why Die Hard is the best Christmas movie.
“It’s not even a Christmas film, there is no Santa, not even a Christmas tree on screen at any point!” Spencer had exclaimed.
“Blasphemy” you had laughed. “And you’re right, it's not just a Christmas film - it’s the Christmas film.”
You were like nothing he’d ever seen before, glowing under the streetlights. 
That was when you had your first kiss, too.
He had whispered, “Can I kiss?” Watching carefully for any signs that you did not want to. When you nodded he instantly closed the gap between you, leaning down to press his soft lips to yours. 
Spencer forced himself away from the memory when he heard you ask, “Spence…what would you do if I died today.” 
Spencer was relieved you were interrupted by Luke stopping the car, and instructing the two of you to get out. The promise dies on his lips.
Just because he didn’t say it didn’t make it any less true: if you died today, Spencer would die tomorrow. 
You and Spencer fixed your earpieces back in place.
“Ready?” Luke asked. 
You could do this, you had to. You remembered when Ben had caught Beth trying to escape, he had made all the girls line up and watch him kill her. He had shot her in the heart. You would make sure he was arrested, and you would condemn him to life in prison - a fate worse than death. And you would do it for you. You would do it for Beth. You would do it for all the girls he trained to be killers. 
You entered the large manor house alone. It had been years since you’d been here, within the blinding white walls. Still, you remembered your way around it like it was yesterday.
You’d practically grown up in Ivylands. 
Ben would be in his office, you headed there first. 
Hesitantly, you gripped the brass door handle and pushed the door open, it creaked loudly. 
You weren’t sure what you expected when you entered the expansive room but it wasn’t Ben lying face down in a pool of his own blood. You rushed towards the body, falling onto your knees and rolling him over.
There was blood everywhere. 
There was a hole in his wool suit, right above his breast pocket - evidently where he’d been shot. 
Ben was dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. 
There was a gun resting next to him, you grabbed it. Standing up and aiming it as examined the office. 
“Y/N, what’s happening? Have you located Smyth?” You heard Emily’s voice in your ear.
You pulled the earpiece out, ignoring the smear of blood that was left along the side of your face. 
Your lack of response prompted Luke and Spencer to rush into the room, adorning their FBI vests and guns pointed. 
“Y/N L/N put down the gun. Now.” Alvez ordered. 
Spencer was perplexed, “Y/N what are you doing? Put the gun down.”  
You didn’t. You stood frozen. 
“Y/N,” Spencer slowly approached you, arms outstretched, “what did you do? Why did you kill him?” 
His firm grip extracting the pistol from your hands snapped you back to reality.
“No…I didn’t do this,” you protested. “Spence, please. It wasn’t me!” 
It was futile, you could tell that neither of the men would believe you. 
“Emily…” You vaguely heard Luke explain the situation to the rest of the team.
And then you saw it. 
A flash of a figure by the entrance to the woods. Spencer saw it too.
You didn’t think. You just ran. 
Spencer and Luke followed too. 
The forest was silent until the sound of a gun cocking echoed throughout. 
You watched a familiar girl with a dark mess of long curls aim a gun at you.
The last time you saw her, she was blonde…and dead.
“Beth,” you gasped. 
Spencer recognised her immediately from the case files. “Bethany Gallagher.”
“No!” She shouted, “Don’t fucking call me that!” 
“You killed Ben.” You stated. 
Beth snarled, “Yes and he deserved it. He killed my family. He nearly killed me. You should be thanking me, I know what he did to you. I know that he was planning to kill you and your stupid boyfriend.”
You took a defensive step in front of Spencer. 
That was a mistake. You should have considered all the outcomes of your actions before you moved but you were too distracted by protecting who you loved. 
You forgot Luke was there until the shot was fired and he collapsed onto the muddy ground.
You ran over to him, applying pressure onto the wound. There was blood everywhere. Why was there so much blood?
Red was rapidly becoming your least favourite colour. 
You looked back up to ask Spencer to get help but you were too late. Spencer was gone. 
Beth had taken him and you would stop at nothing to get him back. 
You waited for the rest of the team to reach you. JJ kept telling Alvez he would be okay and Emily’s hands replaced yours atop the gunshot wound when you forced yourself up. 
You stared deep into the forest, in the direction Beth and Spencer must have gone. 
Slowly, you picked up Luke’s gun and held it tight in your hand.
And then you started running. 
A/N: Thank you for reading! The final part (five) should be up by the end of the week ◡̈
——————————————————————————-
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Metro City Matrimony S1 E2
THIS STREET FIGHTER SERIES I WRITE IS MEANT TO BE MY OWN COMPLETELY FUN TAKE ON REALITY SHOWS AND SOAP OPERAS AND CREATING A WORLD WITHIN A WORLD. THESE SERIES ARE INTENDED FOR A MATURE AUDIENCE AND CONTAIN SCENES OF SEXUAL SITUATIONS, HARROWING AND SOMETIMES VIOLENT EVENTS, INCREDIBLY COARSE LANGUAGE, SUGGESTIVE DIALOGUE, AND SOME HEAVY TOPICS.
READER’S DISCRETION IS ADVISED, AND NO MINORS ARE INVITED TO PARTAKE IN THIS STORY. NOW KICK BACK AND ENJOY THE SHOW.
METRO CITY MATRIMONY
Main Cast:
Jamie Siu and Anya Siu Luke Sullivan and Sarita Sullivan Ed and Jada Supporting Cast:
Papa Siu and Chun-Li Falke Balrog
Season 1 Episode 2: The Ladies Project
*The beauty supply store 7 am*
*Anya is buying some more gel to retwist her locs, she used the last of it the other day when her sister Jada retwisted them*
*She pays for the gel and heads over to her sister’s house*
*Her phone rings. She had been waiting on an important phone call so she answers in her new car, a Mercedes Maybach, fancy*
Anya: Hello?
A woman named Azalea: Anya?
Anya: This is she.
Azalea: I’m letting you know that you can officially move to a bigger building and your room is cleaned and ready for you to come and take clients.
Anya: Thanks Azalea. How’s your sister, Tamika doing? Still hittin that runway?
Azalea: You know she is. Anyway, Cheina (pronounced China) is 100% Thrilled you’re a part of the team now. You can come set up your room today if you feel like coming by. Jada is gonna be excited when you tell her, and she also gave a space to Kareena Kassidy, she’s a friend of yours too, right?
Anya: She’s my friend Nia’s sister, so that’s also pretty exciting. I still got a way to go to get from the store to my sister’s and you’re on the car phone. So, who all is working there total?
Azalea: Me, Cheina, you now, Jada, and now Kareena. We’ve got more interviews soon today, but girl, we are about to be the premier beauty bar in Metro City. Remember the rent is only 400 a month. Some of these other places close because they charge 1000-2000 for rent and their girls are no good, but we have talent, drive, and customer service.
Anya: Alright, I’m swinging by to pick her up right now. See ya when we get there.
Azalea: Alright loves, I’ll see you when you get here.
Anya: Aight, sis.
*Pulls up in front of Jada and Ed’s house, honks the horn about 7 times and then gets out. She makes sure there is room for some of Jada’s shit too*
*She goes to help her sister when she comes out of the door with some stuff to put in the car*
*They head off towards the new building together*
Jada: I have some news. My first piece of news is that next year, I’m eligible to take my citizenship test. The bad news is that Jalissa recovered. Her injury to her stomach was only temporary and she’s free from her colostomy bag. She even dealt with the trauma enough to be released from the mental hospital, so I have no idea where she is now.
Anya: Fuck…well, let’s just get to the address so we can get shit unloaded and set up.
Jada: Alright. Balrog actually is watching the girls today since Ed is doing some shit at his boxing gym today.
Anya: You think that’s a good idea?
Jada: No, but he technically is their grandfather, I’ll just let him have his moment.
Anya: Well, nothing can get any crazier to be honest. And wow…we’re here. It’s a big ass building.
Jada: That makes me feel a lot better about buying this shit honestly.
Anya: Ok, let’s pull in.
*The sisters with the help of some of the other women there, unloaded all their stuff and brought it inside*
*Anya is led to one of the three private rooms on the right side where she begins to unload her supplies, equipment, and furniture, both old and new. She applies her décor to the room*
*Jada puts all of her new products in her storages and all of her equipment up too. She applies some décor to her booth as well and is given her own sink as well*
*Two other lash techs have claimed their rooms, and two young estheticians have also shown up as well as five hairstylists*
*There’s also three other nail girls*
*The women are finished before opening and their appointments who were informed of locale changes come in*
*Meanwhile in the southern part of Metro City*
Balrog: I know what ya parents tell ya about havin a job an’ all but you should always know how ta’ hustle. Ya neva know when ya might need that shit someday.
Tamiia: So, when you mean hustle…does it mean illegal activity.
Balrog: Mostly, but it’s bout’ the skills. Like gamblin’. Imma teach ya how to play BlackJack.
Tamiia: That sounds awesome.
Balrog: Ya get good enough, you’ll be able ta empty anyone’s pockets.
Hailee: Me too?
Balrog: Sure thing, kiddo. Yer a lil young still so just watch n learn for now *Pulls out a deck of cards*
*Oh booooy*
*Jamie is at the studio actually taking pictures today for Calvin Klein*
*Look at that FANSERVICE. Jamie in some tightie whities with his glorious hair draped a little over his shoulders? Mmm…gimme dat…oh sorry, I’m supposed to be narrating this shit*
*Jamie is not the only one in the studio today. Luke is too. He was invited to be part of SP Illustrated’s Body Issue. Meaning he’s taking pictures completely nude to showcase his incredible body. No D will be seen though*
*FANSERVICE OVERLOAD, LOOK AT DAT BUBBLE ASS POP FROM THE SIDE THOOOOOO. DAMN LUKE…GOT ME ALL UNFOCUSED*
*These photoshoots lasts a long time before shooting raps up and the men have to put their clothes back on*
Luke: How the hell do you do this all the time?
Jamie: This is my career. My face is insured for 5 million dollars alone.
Luke: Oh, wait…Sarita is texting me…oh shiiiiit. Dude, did you upload a video of you and Anya fucking?
Jamie: What!? Oh…I accidentally uploaded THAT!? I thought I only saved it. Well shit, now I have a sex tape out there…
Luke: Hell, people are saying how hot it is. I mean, getting to see you get your dick sucked in full view on camera…and plenty of people in the comments are saying they have already fapped and came several times to the video. Anya’s ass is definitely being talked about too, about how good it looks bouncing on top. I think you just became more popular dude.
Jamie: Anya ain’t gonna like this.
Luke: Yeah, she’s not gonna be happy. I’m starving, let’s go eat before she massacres you later.
Jamie: I’m gonna need my favorite meal as my last before she kills my ass.
*Meanwhile. Back at the Beauty Bar that has been named Beautiful You*
*Everyone is hard at work*
*Anya has her client that she mentioned to the others, Chun-Li asked for a subtle picture of the woman which she took for her lash pictures. She usually crops the face out mostly for her Insta pics but she sent them to Chun-Li who identified Anya’s client as a woman known as Crimson Viper or C.Viper*
*Anya’s met enough strange people to not care about her profession*
*She just finished and takes a break and wait for Jada*
*Jada is in the middle of doing braids amd is nearly finished*
*A girl named Lina who just finished a French bikini wax comes barreling out*
Lina: Anya!! Anya!!
Anya: What!? What happened!?
Lina: You’ve got a sex tape leak!
Anya: WHAAAAAAT!? Send me the link, asap!
*Lina does send her the site where the video was disabled and all of the comments there are lewd as fuck*
Anya: JAAAAAAAMMIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!
Cheina: Anya, calm down, it’s not that bad.
Anya: That careless motherfucker…
Jada: Sis, calm down.
Azalea: After this, go home and cool off.
Anya: Shit…oh…shit…I gotta go to the bathroom!
*She’s in the bathroom for a while before emerging*
Anya: Now my fuckin period is back…oooooh now I’m really gonna kill him!
Jada: Calm down!! Now!!
*Anya takes a moment*
Anya: Maya…it was a pleasure seeing you again today after lunch yesterday…I need to head home and cool off but not before I take Jada home so I’m gonna lie down back in my room.
*Meanwhile at the boxing gym*
*Ed is mentoring a kid that reminds him of himself at his age when suddenly, a woman walks into the gym right up to him*
Woman’s voice: I knew I’d find you here…
Ed: What the fuck are you doing out? Did you bust out the nut house?
Jalissa: What the fuck ever. Where’s my sister?
Ed: Not here obviously.
Jalissa: Smart ass motherfucker, look. Where is my sister!?
Ed: At work.
Jalissa: Where?
Ed: It’s none of yer fuckin bizness where my wife is.
Jalissa: Wife? You actually married my useless low life, skinny ass sister with no ass and a thigh gap?
Ed: Don’t disrespect my wife, and get the fuck outta my gym.
Jalissa: What the fuck is up with you? I’m gonna head back to Jamaica next month, and I need to talk to her about that.
Ed: Get the fuck OUT!
Jalissa: Whatever, fuckboy.
*Ed finished up for the day as Jalissa leaves*
*He went back home where Jada had been dropped back off by Anya who is heading back home herself*
*Ed pulls up and gets out of the car, but before Anya pulls off…*
*Ed was followed here*
Ed: Who the fu—
Jalissa: I told you I need to talk to Jada.
Jada: Jalissa, get away from my house and leave.
Jalissa: Who do you think you are!? I expect you to have more respect for the one who had to raise you after our poor mother went insane. Now, in a month, we’re going back to Jamaica. I’m pretty sure the man who wanted your hand in marriage is still awaiting you.
Jada: Are you fucking stupid!? I am married. I have a daughter with my husband, he has 100% legally adopted Tamiia as his own daughter and is the only father she’s ever known. I am working my dream job and I’m going to obtain my citizenship next year since I already have my green card. I’m living here, I’m loving it, and I’m raising my family happily with my HUSBAND.
You’re just a bitter bitch who no man wanted because you’re a nasty woman who has done nothing but try to use me and control me and Tamiia and then blame Anya for your fuckin problems! You need to get a life! Go back and fucking find yourself!
Jalissa: Bitch, you’re gonna talk back to me like that…I’ll teach you a fuckin lesson.
Anya: Back off Jalissa, right the fuck now.
Jalissa: Ah, the homewrecking whore’s bastard child.
Anya: *Slap* Speak of my mother again and I’ll make sure your ass never talks again, let alone walk again. I should have let A.K.I. kill your miserable ass. Leave Jada the fuck alone and get out of here before I call the police and have your ass immediately deported.
Jalissa: Ooh. I’m so scared. One way or another I’ll get you back, and Tamiia, or maybe I’ll get Tamiia back and you’ll have to leave fuckboy in order to get her back…you never know.
Balrog: What the fuck is happenin out here!? I’m playin Blackjack wit ma granddaughter, Miia, and my other one is takin a nap. There will be hell ta pay if you wake her up! Who the fuck are you!?
Jalissa: Who is this big Fantastic Four Thing lookin motherfucker!?
Balrog: Balrog bitch, Ed’s pops, raised im’ from a youngin’…you fuck wit Jada, da kids, or Ed, or any of da family, yo ass answers ta me! Get the fuck outta here before I buss you in yo shit!
Jalissa: Hmm…this shit ain’t over by a long shot. We’ll talk soon.
Ed: Keep it movin!
*Jalissa leaves and the family collects themselves and go in the house and Anya gets in her car and makes the journey to her house*
*She calls Sarita on the way and she knows about the leak*
Anya: I’m gonna kill his ass.
Sarita: Calm the fuck down Anya, it ain’t that bad.
Anya: People saw my ass, my tits, my motherfuckin cunt on camera. People have seen his dick in full fuckin glory! I can’t take the embarrassment.
Sarita: If anything, it’s made y’all both more popular. Hell, there’s this guy who literally said y’all are his bisexual threesome fantasy. Like he was graphic. He wants Jamie to fuck him on all fours while he eats you out. He wants to suck his dick while you bounce on his dick. This man is wild in the comments.
Anya: We aren’t the sharing type though.
Sarita: I know, I’m just saying there’s hardly anything shaming y’all online. Relax.
Anya: Ok, I’ll try not to kill him. Especially since I need him in one place going to Luke’s tomorrow.
*Anya gets home*
*Jamie is already waiting for her*
Jamie: Baby, I’m so sorry. I pressed the wrong button, I was half asleep, I was a little bit drunk too and…
Anya: I was uber pissed at you before I got here, but everyone says we’re more popular and I didn’t get put out of the beauty bar so…I can forgive you.
Jamie: How can I make it up to you.
Anya: Some dick would be nice, remind me of why that video is so popular.
Jamie: You got it babe.
*He grabs her hard by the ass and lifts her up, kissing her passionately as he pins her against the wall…and he’s about to fuck her against the wall. Camera crew had to dip and GTFO*
*The next afternoon*
*Sarita and Luke’s house*
*The backyard*
Luke: Hell yeah, it’s warm enough to GRIIIIIIILLLL BABY! Dee Jay is coming into town today, Anya told me. He’s gonna come party with us.
Sarita: I’m the one doing the damn grilling sir. Am I happy we purposed that shed as a kid’s hangout spot so we can kickback ourselves, and no fuckin weed today alright?
Luke: Yeah, yeah I know.
Sarita: I’m serious, Luke. My parents are coming and you know how much they hate that shit.
Luke: Alright dear. Is there anything else I can do for you?
Sarita: My parents won’t come back with the kids for another two hours so while the meat is cooking, bend my ass over the counter and fuck me with that big summer sausage.
Luke: And I thought I was corny.
Sarita: I learned it from being married to you all these years, now fuck me…
*The camera crew backs out…in the hallway out of view as the pleasurable moans from the Sullivan couple echo through the house*
*Two hours and a shower later, everyone is beginning to arrive*
*Sarita’s parents and the kids return, and Jamie and Anya arrive with their brood and of course Jamie’s dad and Chun-Li with that casual outfit looking beautiful, but she also brought a friend*
*Anya is talking to Jada on the phone and telling her the address to Luke’s house*
*Jalissa overhears the conversation hiding in the bushes and follows them in another car she borrowed*
*She watches as Ed, Jada, Falke, the girls, and Balrog go into the house*
*Then, the man of the hour shows up*
Dee Jay: Yo mon! The name’s Dee Jay! And I came all this way to partay wit y’all!
*The guys all greet Dee Jay and it’s the most bro looking shit ever, the women cringe and turn away*
*Also, Nate, Luke’s other student arrives at that moment*
Nate: Oh shit! Y’all know Dee Jay!? Damn, I gotta kick it with y’all more often!
Luke: Good to see you bro.
Dee Jay: Let’s get the party started!
Anya: Let’s get the damn food started first.
English woman’s voice: You have enough food to feed at least 50 people and not even 50 people are here…how do you do it?
Anya: Practice, and food culture. Relax.
Sarita: Make yourself at home. Wow, you are pretty, and that body is A1 tight. Your workout and training regimen has to be impeccable. What did you say your name was again?
English woman’s voice: Cammy…
Sarita: Loosen up, Cammy, you’re here with good people, even big man over there is more civilized than before.
Cammy: I see…alright…if you insist.
*Sarita’s pretentious parents are sitting down with a stick up their ass, they even dragged her nerdy brother along named Randall*
*Of course, everyone else is starving and begins eating all the food prepared*
*Jada’s Jamaican delicacies really make Dee Jay feel more at home*
*As they begin to listen to music…Jalissa comes in*
Sarita: Oh hell no. Jalissa, get the fuck out of my house!
Jada: I’m not coming back. I live here now and I’m happy. I wish you’d find happiness yourself.
Jalissa: It’s hard for me to accept that honestly. I see that you’re happy with your husband and daughter. He’s taking good care of Tamiia like his own. Anya is happy with her husband and children. I guess I was always just jealous of you and her. I’ll leave…
Jada: No. Come in here. You need to see how much more fun it is to be happy than angry. *She closes the door* Turn up the music!!
Sarita’s mom: You are all so uncouth! I’ll be leaving now. Come on Zeb, Randall.
Randall: No. I’m not leaving. I’m sick of you always trying to control me. I want to have fun at my sister’s house!
Sarita: Tell em Randy! Get out because we’re about to get lit!!
*With a huff, the parents leave*
*Of course…Back that Ass Up is the song on the menu and they get lit for real*
*Ass throwin everywhere. Balrog done damn near passed out because Cammy actually put it on his ass. She backed it up on him and he was loving all of it. She didn’t even flinch when he grabbed that thick ass of hers either. Oooooh shit.
*Randall, nerdy and all, finds his confidence to approach Falke, who accepts his invitation to dance with him. Don’t worry, they are only friendly for sure*
*Drinks are flowing…hell even the weed was forgotten*
*Nate and Jalissa are getting super close in the back, and they end up kissing*
*The kiss soon leads to Jalissa completely losing control and Nate accepts every bit of it until they end up in the bathroom together*
*The door locks…they ended up having sex*
*No one notices*
*Then when they play some Jamaican dancehall music and watch Dee Jay show the fuck out. Even Jamie can’t compete with that right there. He went the fuck off*
*Jamie actually tried to compete and shiiiiit. No contest. Just lay down*
*Everyone suddenly hears moaning over the music…*
*Anya and Jada go investigate and yep…they are going at it in there*
Anya: Leave em be.
Jada: Yeah, she needs it for real.
*The party lasts until about 12 am*
*As everyone else is leaving, a conversation is heard*
Jalissa: I’m goin back to Jamaica in a month*
Nate: I’ll come visit ya there. Always wanted to see it.
Jalissa; I don’t wanna go…
Nate: Don’t worry about that…
Jalissa: I was actually about to get a work visa…I’m an accountant and there’s a need. Problem is I have to be back home for another month before the visa is active.
Nate: Well, when you come back…call me. I’ll come get you, take you home with me.
Jalissa: Don’t make that promise if you can’t keep it.
Nate: Will this change your mind?
*He kisses her again*
Jalissa: It gives me a little faith. I gotta head back to my hotel.
Nate: Since you’ll be comin back, let me take you home with me now so you can feel what it’s like being next to me.
*Jalissa smiles as she gets in Nate’s car, the rental forgotten…*
Anya: Would you look at that? All she needed was a little dick to set her straight.
Jada: Maybe she’ll actually talk to us fully one day…but I’m tired and ready to crash. See you tomorrow, sissy.
Anya: Alright, girly. Love you.
Jada: Love you too.
*All of the attendees leave the party and head back home while Sarita and Luke crash in their beds silently*
EPISODE END
DEE JAY CAME AND TURNT UP!!
SUPER FANSERVICE MOMENT WITH JAMIE AND LUKE
JAMIE ACCIDENTIALLY RELEASES A SEX TAPE AND HAS EVERYBODY READY TO FUCK BOTH OF HIM AND ANYA
BALROG IS TEACHING TAMIIA HOW TO TAKE PEOPLES’ DAMN MONEY
JALISSA JUST NEEDED A LITTLE DICK MAAAAN
CAMMY THROWING ALL THE ASS ON BALROG
UPCOMING EPISODE 3: Jalissa’s new lease on life
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mammonistheman · 1 year
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Headcanons of how it is like to be in a poly relationship with Solomon, Simeon, Diavolo, and Barbatos?
rjjr thank you so much for the request!! I love these guys sm istg 😭😭 I'm currently still in deep depression so life and my will to write is moving slowly
Also idk if this is good idk what i was writing I'm half asleep writing these mostly
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A poly relationship between...
You, Solomon, Simeon, Diavolo; and Barbatos;;
As of dating the "side characters"; it will be a surprise how close you've all grown as of you living in the House Of Lamentation. Most of the time, still acting as the House of Lamentation is your home, you'll also be over to visit Simeon, Solomon and Luke on a daily basis when not in school.
You'll be sleeping over on the many nights as well; only getting angered texts from Lucifer the morning after as you forget to tell him once again.
Majorly; they all will be helping you will your work and what you need to get done. With that being said; study nights will be a sneaky date thing for Solomon; while more with Simeon it would be for the fact you're studying and quality time.
You three collectively will be parental figures for Luke; and will probably find the time to also take him to arcades or festivals yourselves when the time roles round.
Actually; fair enough; Barbatos would also be a parental figure but Diavolo would be like an awkward step-dad trying to have quality time with the child.
But as of Lord Diavolo and Barbatos; you can only really come over once or twice a week depending on how much work the Lord has to do. It's not rare for you to come over randomly to save the handsome Prince with your own knowledge and understanding; helping him with his paper work up until Barbatos realizes and forces you two to have a break.(Up until its just Diavolo working again)
With this said, there will also be so many times that Diavolo will sneak out with you to hang around and cause trouble with Solomon. After all, Simeon would see the bad in the situation and call for Barbatos; and it wasn't worth the risk for the little jokes you're pulling.
You will all collectively be cooking together, helping Diavolo with anything he may need a hand with and trying to supervise Solomon and stop him from turning the food into monstrous beings of goop and slime.
Also with that being said, date nights can either go two different ways.
Way number one; with the grand money and expenses the soon to be King of the Devildom has, he'll spoil you all with a expensive treat or meal. A full coarse meal, cliche and maybe even lit by candle light, roses as decoration on the table. Or with whatever anniversary for you're relationship will be held for, so all angels demons and humans will be there on the count of the judgment of you all, to dance and sing in a marvelous ball. There will be alcohol and crazy substances, still probably landing you a goofy or messy night with them all.
Or way number two; a simple sleepover/movie night with you all cuddled up against each other, covered in blankets and eating popcorn or treats depending on your craving for the night. This could also lead onto the arcade or more fun activities you will do as a group. Luke would be devastated to hear the news that he cannot come; but you, Simeon, Barbatos and Diavolo will happily gift him with whatever he wanted in the mean time.
Oh; and for calmer, more controlled dates; would have to be mini tea party's. These may be more shared out with Simeon and Barbatos; actually enjoying the tea, Diavolo feating on actual treats to eat, with Solomon also trying to force his own food upon you all.
Naturally; you all will spend all free time texting, calling, having lunch and ect. Although this will be difficult because you have built stable relationships and pacts with the brothers, and will be interrupted by them in most cases.
You and everyone else will teach Simeon how to control mechanics for the D.D.D or other technology. No hesitation, he will always be coming up to you guys asking for help.
Overall; i actually see this as a cute poly relationship fr 😭😭 it has the perfect balance of responsibility and silly activities, with you in the middle taking whatever side you see fits for the situation
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esmeray-greenleaf · 1 year
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The one eyed Princess (Aemond x OC)
WARNINGS: swearing, blood, angst, sad
Summary: Aemond Targaryen was not the only one to loose an eye that night.
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“No, no, no NO!” she screamed as Luke slashed out her brothers eye. Anger coarsed through her veins as she pushed Luke’s head onto a wall. He screamed as the blood gushed out, then out of nowhere she felt a sharp blade run across her left eye. Then searing white hot pain hit her. She heard Aemond screaming her name but everything seemed to fade away. Had the blade gone through her head? Was this her death?
Elaena Targaryen born to Viserys Targaryen and Alicent Hightower. Princess of Westeros and sister to the future King and Queen of Westeros. The one eyed prince and princess. Two of Alicents children were maimed by Rhaenyra’s boys. They faced no punishment and the two children were left to suffer. Elaena Targaryen was said to be the most beautiful maiden in the seven kingdoms but now she was nothing. Her face was ruined. A scar went down from above her eyebrow to just atop her cheek. Men at court made fun of her appearance stating that not even her one eyed brother would want to marry her. Aemond and Elaena were extremely close, they’re were said to be betrothed but after the incident Aemond shut her off and that was her biggest heartbreak ever. Not even her brother wanted her. Elaena started questioning herself, her confidence was destroyed. Alicent would try convince her to come out, to come to family dinners or to see her siblings but she refused. Instead Elaena buried herself in her stories, writing and reading them, the only time she was seen was when she quickly rushed to her dragon for a ride. Elaena would not come back for hours if not the whole day. Aemond desperately needed her, he was breaking without her. He hated waking up without her. They didn’t have the same rooms anymore. Aemond hated not being able to talk to her, to touch her, to see her. They lived in the same place yet he hasn’t seen his sister in 5 years. They were both 10 when their eyes were taken and Aemond only shut her off because he didn’t want her to see how hideous he was. When Aemond heard the men of court talk about Elaena as if she was a monster, he cut their tongues out one by one. Aemond hated himself so much. He would knock on her door shouting, screaming and begging for her to open it. “Elaena! Elaena please! I want to see you! PLEASE! I just want to see you,” he would cry out as tears gushed down his face. She would ignore it. It was so hard but it helped her grow more cold and merciless. Everyday for 5 years he would come to her, begging and pleading for her but as much as her heart bled, she did not move. When Elaena didn’t answer he would drop down on to his knees, hands pressed against the heavy doors and the top of his head rested on the door. He sobbed, cursing himself. When he was thirteen and Aegon has taken him to that horrid brothel, he ran straight to Elaena’s room doors. Banging and shouting for her to let him in. He punched the door creating a dent as his hand bled. Aemond punched the door again and again until there was a noticeable dent on the door and his hand was fractured with blood all over it. Maybe if she were in her room she would’ve opened it but Elaena had gone out to take a ride. Aemond screamed her name as his mother and guards came to see him in his miserable state. Aemond came everyday after that he even tried sliding in letters, she kept them but never answered. Helaena tried to see her but Elaena strictly ordered no one but her mother would see her. Even Aegon came to try see his youngest sister. He came once with gentle words, knocking quietly. The second time Aegon came, he banged on her doors shouting these exact words “OUR BROTHER HAS GONE MAD WITH GRIEF BECAUSE YOU WONT SHOW YOUR HIDEOUS FACE TO HIM! MOTHER HAS TRIED TO GET YOU TO TALK TO HIM TOO MANY TIMES, GET OUT HERE YOU COLD, MERCILESS BITCH!” She would never forget his words. Was Aemond truly distraught over her? Maybe she had become cold and merciless.
“Daughter, please Aemond comes to you in hopes you would let him in, please go see your siblings. Aemond loves you,” Alicent said. “I look hideous mother,” Elaena hissed, walking over to the mirror. Her scar was healed but it was still red and ruined. Elaena’s empty eye socket made it look worse. “What if… I get you a jewel, to put instead of your eye, maybe you would like it,” her mother suggested. “No, not a jewel but maybe gold, it would match my olive skin, don’t you think,” she said imagining herself with it in her eye. “Yes! That would be perfect, let me talk to the maesters,” Alicent said jumping up and leaving Elaena’s room in a hurry. She sighed, staring into her one, honey brown eye. How could anyone love Elaena Targaryen, the one eyed princess.
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The Lamb Breaks the Seals
The first rider: conquest
1 Then I watched while the Lamb broke one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures say in a voice of thunder, “Come out!”
2 I looked, and before my eyes was a white horse. Its rider carried a bow, and he was given a crown. He rode out conquering and bent on conquest.
The second rider: War
3 Then, when the Lamb broke the second seal, I heard the second living creature, cry, “Come out!”
4 And another horse came forth, red in colour. Its rider was given power to deprive the earth of peace, so that men should kill each other. A huge sword was put into his hand.
The third rider: Famine
5a When the Lamb broke the third seal, I heard the third living creature say, “Come out!”
5b-6 I looked again and there before my eyes was a black horse. Its rider had a pair of scales in his hand, and I heard a voice which seemed to come from the four living creatures, saying, “A quart of wheat for a shilling, and three quarts of barley for a shilling—but no tampering with the oil or the wine!”
The fourth rider: Death
7 Then, when he broke the fourth seal I heard the voice of the fourth living creature cry, “Come out!”
8 Again I looked, and there appeared a horse sickly green in colour. The name of its rider was death, and the grave followed close behind him. A quarter of the earth was put into their power, to kill with the sword, by famine, by violence, and through the wild beasts of the earth.
The cry of the martyrs in Heaven
9-10 When the Lamb broke the fifth seal, I could see, beneath the altar, the souls of those who had been killed for the sake of the Word of God and because of the faithfulness of their witness. They cried out in a loud voice, saying, “How long, O Lord, holy and true, until you judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?”
11 Then each of them was given a white robe, and they were told to be patient a little longer, until the number of their fellow-servants and of their brethren, who were to die as they had died, should be complete.
The wrath of God
12-17 Then I watched while he broke the sixth seal. There was a tremendous earthquake, the sun turned dark like coarse black cloth, and the full moon was red as blood. The stars of the sky fell upon the earth, just as a fig-tree sheds unripe figs when shaken in a gale. The sky vanished as though it were a scroll being rolled up, and every mountain and island was jolted out of its place. Then the kings of the earth, and the great men, the captains, the wealthy, the powerful, and every man, whether slave or free, hid themselves in caves and among mountain rocks. They called out to the mountains and the rocks, “Fall on us and hide us from the face of him who sits on the throne and from the wrath of the Lamb! For the great day of his wrath has come, and who is able to stand against it?” — Revelation 6 | J.B. Phillips New Testament (PHILLIPS) The New Testament in Modern English by J.B Phillips copyright © 1960, 1972 J. B. Phillips. Cross References: Genesis 3:8; Genesis 4:10; Exodus 29:12; Deuteronomy 4:10; Deuteronomy 32:43; 1 Samuel 6:20; Psalm 2:12; Psalm 76:7; Proverbs 5:5; Isaiah 2:10; Isaiah 13:10; Isaiah 34:4; Isaiah 54:10; Jeremiah 4:24; Jeremiah 14:12; Ezekiel 4:16; Hosea 10:8; Joel 2:31; Nahum 3:12; Zechariah 1:8; Zechariah 6:2-3; Zechariah 6:6; Matthew 10:34; Matthew 24:7; Matthew 27:66; Luke 15:22; John 1:29; Acts 20:24; Revelation 4:6,7 and 8
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anatee · 1 year
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Touch me if you dare | Ben/Kylo x Reader Smut
Touch me if you dare | Ben Solo/Kylo Ren x Reader Smut 18+. MINORS DNI.
Word count: 4.8K
Content warning: fem!Forcesensitive!reader; in this part not so much smut, but DEFINITELY lots of inappropriate use of the Force; like two curse words? and impure thoughts, secret/forbidden relationship, ofc they're both ADULTS
Author’s note: This came to me in a dream and I wrote it somewhere between editing my book and my bachelor’s thesis, so yeah. As in my previous Kylo fanfic, he’s not as ruthless as many portray him. I will probably write another part(s?) to this.
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Y/N still couldn't comprehend how it came to this, and her mind was racing to understand.
Ben Solo was pining her to a tree, his large hands making it impossible for her to free her wrists from his grip.
This was not a part of the Jedi training Luke ordered. The lightsabers they were supposed to fight with were long forgotten, thrown somewhere between the trees and bushes of the forest that acted as their training grounds. 
How did it happen? It's not like it was their first time duelling with each other. Everything always went smoothly - well, not without a few over-the-top threats that were never going to happen, but it still counted as 'smoothly' between them. They enjoyed teasing each other from the moment they met, it seemed, ages ago.
But it was not the moment to relive the old memories, it was the moment to relive the last few minutes that led to Ben's face being so close to hers she could feel his heavy breathing on her skin.
It started like it always did. They were waving their weapons while bantering, never really intending to hurt the other while working on a distraction. And then, somehow, as their fight moved deeper into the forest, Ben managed to disarm his opponent. Y/N's lightsaber fell into the bushes and before she could even raise her hand to get it back with the Force, he threw his weapon away and grabbed her by the wrists instead.
And there they were now, staring at each other and breathing heavily, the Force swrling around them and tingling their senses. Y/N's eyes wandered towards the opening in Ben's white shirt; she could see a tiny bit of a scar he got not a long ago.
"Do you give up?" he asked in a velvety voice after what felt like hours of looking, his gaze making her feel tiny.
"What would you do if I did?" she bit back between heavy breaths.
His eyes fell onto her lips, sending a shiver down her body.
"Why are you not trying to fight back?" he asked. "I don't have a weapon anymore."
"Maybe I don't want to," she replied, shocking herself with how confidently she said it. Her wrists were starting to burn and her back wasn't really enjoying the coarse surface of the tree, but at the same time she didn't want to move away. The unexplainable feeling in her abdomen made her stay right where he kept her.
"Why did you do that?" she asked after another moment of tense silence.
He leaned even closer towards her, his knee getting between her legs in the process. She let out a quiet gasp as he pressed his forehead against hers.
"It's just part of the training. I'm winning."
"Is that so?"
Y/N had no idea what was going through his head, but she didn't intend on stopping him. The position they found themselves in made her feel things she had never experienced next to him, but they were so pleasurable...
"Shouldn't you at least pin to me the ground to win?"
"I don't need to." He smirked. "I already have complete control over the opponent."
"Doesn't seem like you're using it in any way..." she said provokingly, hoping something else would happen, something other than the two of them just standing there and staring at each other in such a tense atmosphere...
And then, as if something clicked in Ben's head, he let go of her quickly and stepped back. Before Y/N could asked what happened, she sensed it - someone was approaching, and Ben clearly didn't want them to see this.
She began massaging her wrists right before noticing Master Skywalker walking straight towards them, his robe flying somewehre behind him.
"Who won?" he asked as he approached them, apparently checking the greyish sky for possible rain.
"Ben," Y/N said at once.
"Y/N," Ben said at the same time, getting a confused look from her, but he was staring right at Skywalker, not giving her a glance.
Luke raised his eyebrow questioningly, then eventually shook his head. "Well, you're both disarmed, so I'll take it as a tie."
Neither of them argued. Ben put his hand in front of him and used the Force to pull his lightsaber right into his palm, and Y/N quickly did the same. She tried to act as if nothing out of the ordidnary had happened, even though she knew her cheeks were flushed, her wrists red from Ben's fingers, her body weak not from the fight, but from his little performance...
"Come to dinner. Everyone's finished except for you," Luke ordered, then turned on his wheel to walk back from where he came.
"We're coming," Ben replied loudly.
Y/N began following Skywalker and before she knew it, Ben was walking behind her.
Right behind her, almost touching her body as he towered over her. She didn't dare ask him what he was doing when they were this close to Luke; it had to be a one-on-one talk.
From then on Ben didn't leave Y/N's thoughts even for a second. Even the very same night she dreamt about him, and it was one of these dreams that left you with a crush on someone.
She had never felt this way about him - of course, he was attractive and she liked him a lot, but Maker, his actions in the forest did something to her. As a result, now she couldn't compose herself next to someone she usually called just a friend.
The next day Luke chose someone else to train with her. He always did that, claiming everyone had to be able to face opponents of different fighting styles. It was a girl, Inda, one Y/N also could call a friend. However, every time Inda swung her lightsaber at her, she couldn't help but remember the day before, and everything that Ben did... Oh, how she wished it was him again.
Inda quickly noticed her opponent wasn't as focused as usually. Y/N explained that she just had a lot on her mind, and promised to do better the next time they meet. She was careful not to let Inda know too much about her distractions...
Everyone Luke was training had their own tiny house to sleep in. It was especially helpful if they haf to clean their minds and reach out, as Skywalker always said, so that was what Y/N was trying to do to become focused again.
She sat on her sleeping mat in the tiny, circular room. There was only some starlight getting inside through a small window, bathing everything in a blueish glow. She didn't need any more light than this.
Y/N took off her training gear, untied her hair and sighed with relief as she freed herself from her tight bra. It was sometimes a bit painful to wear it, especially if her breasts were particularly sensitive, but it helped a lot to keep them in place while fighting. 
She let herself sit naked from waist up for a moment, allowing her skin to breathe along with herself. She beginning to consider whether she should just sleep like this when she heard a knock on her door.
She almost jumped, then immediately grabbed her blanket and covered herself with it.
"Come in," she said as she made sure no part of her breasts was visible.
The door opened, and even in the dim light she could see the two sparkling eyes, the same ones that stared into hers so tensely one day ago.
Ben was standing there, one of his arm raised as he leaned against the doorframe, his white, loose shirt unbuttoned and revealing most of his toned chest. 
"Are you going to sleep?" he asked quietly, but it was enough fot her to get somehow excited.
"Not yet," she replied, although it was half a lie.
"Mind if I stay with you?"
Was that even a question?
There were so many thoughts racing through her mind, but only one of them was clear: she wasn't going to refuse.
"Come in," she said, clutching onto the blanket. "Did something happen?"
He stepped in and made sure to close the door behind him, then settled himself opposite her. This was the moment he noticed the blanket and her grip on it.
"Are you naked?" he asked, his eyes widening at the sight of her bare shoulders.
She looked down as though noticing it for the first time. "You caught me in the middle of changing."
He inhaled sharply, staring at where her skin ended and the material began. She had an inkling he was wondering what was beneath it...
"I ask again... Did something happen?"
"No. I just wanted to see you," he replied without any hesitation, surprising her.
"And pin me to the wall this time?" she said half jokingly, half seriously as she wished to find out what his intentions were.
"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it."
An intense shiver went down her bare back. For a moment, she was questioning whether Ben was real and saying all of this, or was it just her imagination.
"Even if so, what did you want to achieve?" she asked eventually.
He shifted in his seat, considering his next words. "I don't know why I did what I did but... It felt right then. And I would do it again."
She wondered if he noticed how much her chest was raising as she took deep breaths to calm herself before confessing:
"Well, you certainly got me thinking about you."
He smirked as if that was his biggest success.
"You were first. You've been wearing tighter clothes lately."
This prompted her to gave him a smirk of her own. "Oh, am I distracting you?"
"Your clothes do that just a bit worse than you yourself," he replied, the playful atmosphere between them just balancing on the edge of becoming inappropriate.
She glanced towards the window. "I really hope no one's listening to us."
"Why? You think we're talking about something we shouldn't?"
He was provoking her. He knew damn well that wherever this conversation was going, it wasn't anywhere near the rules Luke gave them.
"Well, technically we haven't said... Or done," they locked eyes, "anything inappropriate yet."
Ben's eyes wandered to her hand. She was still clutching the material of the blanket, her wrists exposed...
"So if I did again what I did in the forest... Would you consider it inappropriate?" he asked, throwing his thick, black hair back, making her heart beat even faster than before. She knew she had to be careful with her words; on one hand, she didn't want him to win their banter, on the other - deep inside, she wished he would do that again.
"Master Luke wouldn't like that," Y/N replied diplomatically.
"I know," Ben said as though he was proud of it. "But would you?"
Y/N looked down at the blanket. Her hand was becoming sore from holding it to her chest... It was a decision made in a split second. She didn't even think of the consequences, she just wanted to do something to have the upper hand... Even if it was bold.
She released her grip.
The blanket slid off, and the tension caught fire.
Ben didn't even try to hide it. He was staring right at her and everything the material uncovered. Y/N couldn't even express the feelings that were going through her as she realised what she had done; fear, embarrassment, excitement and hope, all at the same time, boiling inside her as she breathed deeply, her exposed chest raising.
The aura was even more tense than in the forest, swallowing both of them whole as one waited for the move of the other. She didn't want him to take advantage of her embarrassment, so she decided to seize the initiative.
"It's just breasts, Ben." She said, exposing herself even more by resting on her elbows. "But judging by your reaction... You have never touched a woman, huh?"
He cleared his throat, composing himself. "I bet I am the first man seeing you like this."
"You're too scared to do it," she said as if his words didn't happen, sticking to her own narrative.
"Consider your next words carefully..."
She should've listened to that advice before blurting out:
"Touch me if you dare."
Their eyes met. Ben was looking at her intensely, searching her face for clues. Was she just teasing, or did she really want him to do it?
"If you allow it," he said eventually, his gaze flickering between her face and her chest.
Another silence fell between them. She decided to take one more risk, completely forgetting about any unwanted consequences.
"I do."
Two words that doomed them both.
"In that case..."
For a split second, fear overtook Y/N's entire body since she had no idea what to expect of him. And then a gasp so loud she immediately clasped her hand over her mouth escaped her lips.
Two hands were cupping her breasts, but they weren't Ben's - they were his Force hands. He had his real hand right in front of him, and his brow was furrowed as he focused on controlling the Force.
What a sneaky bastard he was.
Y/N could not believe in what was happening. Yesterday Ben barely held her against a tree - and now his invisible hands were massaging her breasts, raising her body temperature more quickly than she could handle.
"You're more... You're more skilled than our Master gives you credit for," she breathed out, his moves tingling her abdomen.
"Am I?" He raised an eyebrow challengingly. "Then let me..." His invisible fingers grabbed her nipples between them - just that was enough to make her gasp again. He knew exactly what he was doing.
"Why does it feel like you've planned this?"
A cocky smile appeared on his face even though he was still focused on the Force.
"I've been seeing you... Differently lately," he admitted eventually.
She raised her eyebrows, confused but interested and trying to ignore the waves of pleasure starting to wash over her. "In what way?"
"I don't think I see you as a friend anymore."
She swallowed hard. There it was, exactly what she wanted to hear, yet it was hard to absorb, especially when he was doing what he was.
"I suppose whatever we're doing now it's not what friends do."
"I suppose they don't."
His Force hands suddenly slid along her body a little further down, and when he realised he did that, he withdrew them. Y/N was still breathing heavily, unable to process what had just happened. But if there was something she was sure of it was that she wanted more.
"Why did you st..."
"Shush," he cut her off quickly. "Luke is walking here somewhere," he added in the quietest of whispers. He could always sense Luke before everyone elses did; supposedly because they were family, after all.
They both turned their heads towards the window, almost expecting him to show up there at any moment.
"I have to go," Ben said quickly, jumping to his feet. However, before he could even grab the doorknob, she stood up, too and grabbed him by his wrist.
"Wait. You're not going to just leave me after all of this?"
"I don't want to," he whispered, meeting her eyes with sincerity. "But we don't want Luke to see you like this, do we?" They both looked at her bare chest, immediately reliving the memories from a minute ago.
"You've just confessed to me... You can't just leave now," she pleaded, unsure where she got her confidence from. She was probably still high on the adrenaline from a moment earlier...
"Right." He turned his whole body towards her again. "Because you didn't answer."
Could that night get any crazier?
Luke was somewhere really close, now she could sense him, too... But it wasn't going to stop her. She put her hands on his broad shoulders, a touch he thoroughly enjoyed.
"I also think... We can try being more than friends," she whispered, leaning towards him. She could see her words had an effect on him as his breathing became shallow. Finally, he smiled, cupping her face with his large hand.
"But Luke cannot kno..."
"Ben? Are you in here?"
Skywalker banged on the door three times, causing both of them to jump. Y/N immediately threw herself to the floor, then covered herself with the blanket. Ben quickly used the Force to button up his shirt, and then opened the door to see Luke looking with a furrowed brow.
"What?" Ben asked at once.
"I am asking what," Luke repeated sternly. "What are you doing in Y/N's room?"
Ben glanced back at her, acting almost as if he had just found out she was there.
"She was feeling unwell," he lied eventually and, in her mind, she complimented him on his quick thinking.
Luke walked right past him to see it for himself, and his students were both praying he wouldn't suspect anything.
"Good evening, Master," Y/N said, taking on the weakest voice she could. Ben had to stifle a laugh.
Luke looked closer at her and even in the dim light he could see how flushed she was, her forhead sprinkled with sweat.
"Do you have a fever?"
She nodded. "Probably. I feel extremely weak."
Ben bit his lip. If only Skywalker knew what was the real reason of her "fever".
"Stay in here for tomorrow, it may be contagious," Luke ordered eventually. "I'll bring you medicine in the morning."
"I can take care of her," Ben proposed, but the stare Skywalker gave him was more than enough to understand there was nothing to discuss.
"You will be training." He pointed a threatening finger at him. "And now you should be asleep, I believe."
Ben was about to open his mouth and say something about not being a child anymore, but he eventually dropped it. It was a miracle that his uncle didn't press the subject of Y/N's sudden illness anyway. He gave her one last glance; they both exchanged looks of relief. Ben left reluctantly and Luke followed him, then closed the door behind them.
The moment it happened, Y/N sat up and touched her chest, as if trying to check whether he was still touching her... Was everything that had just happened even real? One moment Ben was just knocking on her door, the other he was admitting he liked her.
She was happy she would have a free day. Maybe she wasn't really sick, but she did need time to figure it all out.
Y/N came to a simple conclusion: she wanted to try it with Ben, and the fact that they would have to hide made it all more exciting. How come she didn't notice how much she wanted him sooner? After that night, everything just clicked into place, and her days as Skywalker's student were about to become much more interesting.
It was late evening of the next day when someone knocked on her door. She expected Luke again, but, to her pleasure, it was someone else.
Ben basically slithered into her room, then made sure he closed the door behind him. This time, he was still in Jedi robes.
"How are you feeling?" he asked with a playful smile she reciprocated.
"Oh, so sick I can't even stand." She wiped her forehead theatrically, earning a chuckle from him.
"One minute and you'll believe you're actually sick," he said it as he settled himself on the floor, this time much closer than before.
"Maybe I am. And you're the reason." She sat up to gaze into his eyes, now even more emotion-filled than the night before. "Does Luke know you're here?"
"Of course not," he whispered. "But he doesn't have to."
"Ben... Did you mean what you said yesterday?" she asked as it had been haunting her the whole day.
He hesitated for a moment, his lip shaking visibly as he ran a hand through his hair.
"Yes," he admitted eventually. "Otherwise I wouldn't have said that."
She rolled her eyes. "You're too direct at times."
"And I can already sense you enjoy that."
Why did the Force have to be the strongest with him?
"Hope our Master doesn't."
"Leave him to me," he said darkly, then he smirked. "Besides, we aren't even doing anything wrong... I'm not even touching you."
"But you want to," she replied confidently as she could see the need in his eyes.
"It's your view of things. But I'm already on my way out." He stood up suddenly, leaving her flabbergasted.
"What?" She gave him a look full of disbelief. "But you didn't even..."
"Rest assured..." Ben glanced at her one last time before opening the door. "I'll touch you soon."
She swallowed hard as she understood: he was leaving so quickly just because he didn't want to give her the satisfaction, not because he didn't want her...
"Have a good night, Y/N," he added and left with a triumphant smile.
The door barely closed behind him, she barely had the time to sigh... And then two invisible hands touched her breasts again.
"Solo!" she screamed, now not even caring about someone potentially hearing her.
The door opened again and Ben looked inside as if he was completely clueless. "What?"
"You little..." she hissed, but he cut her off:
"I'm sure you are the little one in here."
His cocky smile was the last thing she saw before he closed the door again.
Apparently Luke decided Y/N wasn't that sick that much, because he woke her up at dawn the next day, just like he did to all the others, then began leading his students to one of the forest lakes. Everyone was particularly quiet as they followed their Master, mostly because they didn't sleep enough... And some of them were focused on something else.
Y/N and Ben exchanged pointed looks the moment they saw each other, but didn't utter a word. They were both thinking about the other person, they were both wondering what could happen next between them, and who will initiate another action first. They knew even thinking next to Luke was risky, but it didn't stop Ben from walking right behind her like a guardian.
Skywalker brought his students to one of the lakes in the forest, then made them sit cross-legged near the shore and breathe.
Ben wasn't sure how far he could go. Would sitting right next to Y/N be alarming to Luke, or would he not think too much about it?
There was not much time for a decision before others could settle next to her.
Fuck it.
He sat next to her. She sent him one meaningful look before closing her eyes and doing all in her might not to think about him being there.
A few minutes passed, Ben for sure was focusing, but not on breathing. When he saw everyone was busy with the task Luke had assigned them, his Force hands began wandering again.
Y/N simply could not believe he was doing it then and there, right in front of everyone. She had to bite the inside of her cheek in order not to react to his touch as the Force carressed her body. It was worse than torture, worse then if he were hurting her; how does one not show any reaction to such pleasurable moves?
"I sense disturbance," Luke said loudly, almost causing her to jump, and Ben withdrew carefully. "Y/N, you're not focused."
"I'm sorry, Master." She looked up at him and gulped, hoping he didn't sense the source of the disturbance. "I still don't feel quite well."
"Just focus and breathe," he ordered and she nodded, but before closing her eyes again, she shot Ben a warning look.
He wasn't looking at her, but he could feel it through the Force; she saw his smile very well.
He did try to touch her a few more times, but eventually stopped when Luke started becoming suspicious. After the morning at the lake, everyone was sent to train on their own, but Y/N promised herself that the next day she would get that bastard back. Hot bastard, but a bastard.
The next day came and she did all she could to have him as her opponent for the lightsaber training. It was easier than she expected, since Luke was clearly busy with something else - so she just grabbed Ben damned Solo by the elbow and pulled him towards herself before anyone else could.
"I am going to get you for what you did yesterday," Y/N said as she ignited her lightsaber, and he laughed.
"Oh, and what did I do?" He drew his own weapon. "Distract you?"
They began their forest duel as usual, but it was even more tense than before. Y/N was really doing all she could to get her revenge, mostly attacking Ben instead of defending herself, but he was still at an advantage - he was much stronger than her, even though she was faster. This led him to the same scenario as before: he disarmed her, then discarded his lightsaber... And pinned her to yet another tree by her wrists.
"Oh, fuck you, Solo." She groaned.
Even if she liked it, at that point he was driving her mad. Why did he win again? In the same way?
"Second time you're doing this. You'd better come up with something new."
He gave her another cocky smile. "The thing is, I have."
Before she could ask what that was, he lowered her hands and his head.
Their lips met in the most passionate kiss he could offer.
Y/N was thanking the stars she had the tree to lean against, otherwise her knees might have given in. The forest evaporated; there was only Ben, bringing her closer to himself. Luke could walk right then and there and they wouldn't have noticed him, dizzy and drunk on each other.
Ben let her go for a gasp of air, but they didn't want to stop. This time, she grabbed him by shirt and pulled her back to himself again, this time kissing him as hungrily as he did.
She wrapped her hands around his neck and he grabbed her hips; stars, he had no idea it would feel this blissful to kiss her. He was intoxicated, hence a bit aggressive in his movements, but she didn't mind. He encouraged her to wrap her legs around him before putting his large hands on her buttocks, holding her steadily against the tree.
These kisses were filled with desire, and she guessed he must have kept them in for a while. The thought was all the more exciting and she responded to everything eagerly, her hands roaming over his chest before settling in his luscious hair.
Another gasp for air brought a bit of her rational thinking back.
What would happen if Luke saw them there?
Technically, only attachments were forbidden. Kissing wasn't.
However, at the same time, even kissing might have been forbidden if it were your Master's nephew you were making out with.
But the more forbidden the fruit, the sweeter it tasted, and Ben was only confirming it. Her whole frustration with him has evaporated; she conveyed it to him through the kisses, and the passion of them.
He stepped back after what seemed like ages. She put her legs back down, but he still had his hands on her hips. Both of them were flushed, breathing heavily, their hair a mess.
Ben gazed into her eyes, then smiled, cupping her face in his hand. "I think Luke might believe you have a fever again."
"This time with you," she replied, indicating his face which was just as reddish as hers.
"I love it when you look like this," he admitted, brushing his thumb against her cheek.
"That's why you always didn't even let me breathe during our duels?"
"Maybe." He smiled. "But now I don't have to run after you..."
"You don't?" She raised an eyebrow and then, before he could react, released herself from his grip and sprinted off into the forest.
She didn't get to run away for too much before Ben used the Force to pull her to himself. He wrapped his hands around her waist as her back hit his chest... And her butt hit something else.
"Excited, are you?" she asked as he hugged her from the back.
"I'm always excited for you."
Her heart began beating faster. He seemed to know exactly what to say to give her goosebumps. At the same time, it was still Solo the bastard, one she always wanted to win with.
She pulled her lightsaber towards her, then slipped out of his grip again before igniting her weapon.
"But I'm still not letting you win that easily."
He chuckled, then got a hold of his own lightsaber.
"I'm sure I've already won, Y/L/N."
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youurelovely · 1 year
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