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#Hear N Aid band
sixx6sexx2love · 3 months
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DATING YNGWIE MALMSTEEN
OMGG ITS BEEN FOREVER IM SORRY🙏 MY MEDS ARE STABLE NOW. AND ALSO IF U GUYS DONT KNOW WHO YNGWIE MALMSTEEN IS JUST PLS PLS READ IT I THINK YOU GUYS WOULD LIKE HIM (HES ALSO A CAT PERSON!!)
also his name is pronounced “ing-vay” so u guys won't say some stupid shit like “yeeng-wee”💀
word count: 815
warnings: alcohol, arguments
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dating Yngwie malmsteen, a guitar god, would definitely be something.
In the 80s, he was at the height of his career, and his band, Rising Force, was gaining popularity worldwide but you guys would probably start dating when he was already doing solo work.
If you dated him in the 80s, you would have experienced firsthand his passion for music and his intense personality. But it could have also been a rollercoaster ride, he has a temper and bad mood swings.
you guys could meet in different ways, maybe you were at one of his concerts and you caught his eye, or maybe you work in the music industry as a roadie, promoter, and meeting him backstage or on tour, or maybe you're also in a band and you open for his shows.
but most likely a party is where you guys would meet, he partied a lot just like any other.
yngwie would use pet names like sweetheart, love and darling, I can't really see him as a babe or baby person unless he was drunk off his ass or apologizing for something.
because this is the 80s and he was at the peak of his career and known for his intense personality and being all fiery (literally, he lit his guitar on fire on stage), i highly doubt he'd be afraid to show some pda. 
though it would be kinda rare to see him make out with you or grope you in places he knows that there will be paparazzi and stuff, but there's always that one rare picture of you two making out at a party that shows up 30 years later on pinterest LMAO.
but hed hold hands, hug, and kiss you wherever.
plus if you guys got engaged or something or just for fun, hed have a photo shoot with you (kinda boring though, it'd just be like any other photo shoot some rockstar had with their girlfriend)
now Yngwie never had a problem with drugs but was a major alcoholic  and he was quite a party animal, but when he drinks he's more loose and carefree and sometimes even goofy.
its mostly when he's sober that he acts like the guitarist version of axl rose lol.
he likes his wine, not much of a hard liquor guy. like if he were choosing a drink for himself, its definitely some kind of expensive wine or champagne, but if there was only whiskey or something wherever he is, he won't complain.
literally every interview I've seen him in he has a big ol glass of wine.
I can see you two taste testing wine, he'd just have a bunch of bottles on the table and you two would just constantly refill your glasses.
yngwie is veryyy dedicated to his work and very arrogant when it comes to playing guitar.
he doesn't let ANYBODY touch his shit like seriously, thats why he started doing solo stuff because he couldn't play with bands.
so with that he probably wouldn't let you in his studio. not like in a “no girlfriend zone” but if he's recording or just frustrated then he needs that time with no distractions (cus ur so distracting you pretty little thing rawr😍)
but if its just like a whatever day then you can be in the studio with him, hes fine with that.
and just to be a good boyfriend and make you feel included, he'd ask for your opinion but wouldn't really take it too much into consideration if you had a suggestion, but would get a little annoyed if you said you didn't like it.
arguments with him can be really intense and emotional, hes a passionate person with a temper and is known to be easily frustrated especially if he felt like he wasn't being heard or respected.
he would lash out at you and use strong language, he could be stubborn and refuse to compromise at times, which could make resolving arguments difficult.
making up after an argument would be kinda challenging, he holds grudges and is slow to forgive, he could be stubborn and take time to cool off.
However, if he did reconcile with you after an argument, it is possible that he would be passionate and sincere in expressing his apologies. He would likely be genuinely remorseful and would want to make things right again.
anyways I feel like hed really like telling you what its like in Sweden and you get to hear his Swedish accent that was still thick since he had only moved to America in ‘83.
and he'd tell you about his first band he made when he was 10, and how he would listen to queen and how he looked up to Bryan may, and how his younger brother plays drums.
he'd definitely talk about taking you to Sweden to meet his parents and older and younger brothers.
@bisexualnikkisixx
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dirjoh-blog · 2 years
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Epic Rock Episode 13-Hear'n'Aid: Stars
When it comes to heavy metal it probably doesn’t get better then this. It is the forgotten Live Aid project. Hear ‘n Aid was a charity record recorded by a large ensemble of 40 heavy metal musicians and released in 1986. The project was organized by Ronnie James Dio, Jimmy Bain, and Vivian Campbell, all from the band Dio. Proceeds from the album were used to raise money for famine relief in…
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kamaluhkhan · 8 months
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THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)
read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)
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pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)
word count: 8.5k
summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.
warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!
author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡
♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo
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(i. you have a sharp tongue)
fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.
"you'll get used to it."
luke sat up to see you climbing through the window. 
you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer. 
“the shitty mattress?”
“i meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.” 
your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous. 
“good to know.” he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasn’t in it. “i’m luke, by the way.”
“yeah, i know. i’m —”
“y/n!”
you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.
“someone stole my candy.”
“i’m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.” your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.
maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. “it was you, wasn’t it?”
“that depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?” 
some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in. 
“what? n-no!” 
“then you have your answer, maddy.” you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.”
chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didn’t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you. 
“come on.” you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasn’t following you. “best view of camp. trust me.”
a shiver passed through luke. trust didn’t come easy to him. he also didn’t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.
 so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp. 
it just didn't seem fair. 
there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods. 
“i don’t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but aren’t there, like, a million other gods?”
you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest. 
“camp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, they’re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they can’t even do that half the time,” you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest. 
every  demigod knew that the gods didn’t appreciate sarcasm. they  didn’t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.
you didn’t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself. 
“anyways, that’s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesn’t have a cabin at camp. like me.”
“so, who’s your godly parent?”
you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore — scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.
luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.
"nemesis. goddess of revenge."
"that's....hardcore."
you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.”
“so that’s why you’re extra nice to new campers, huh?” 
“no, i was just in a good mood today.” you smirked.
“guess i was just lucky, then.”
luke couldn’t help but smile at your laugh — sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching. 
“what people don’t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things and….” you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. “you face the consequences.” 
“that makes sense.” luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. “like karma.”
“yeah. exactly.” 
you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:
“by the way, i’m sorry about your friend.” you swallowed and caught luke’s gaze. 
chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything — anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too. 
“she deserved more.” 
luke’s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there. 
“yeah,” he finally whispered back. “she did.”
we all do. 
neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise. 
(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)
“slow down, tiger.” 
your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm. 
“left hand,” you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. “you, my friend, are in need of a break.”
luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.  
his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news he’d gotten early that day. 
“come sit with me,” you urged. “you’re exhausted, tiger.” 
luke bristled at your nickname for him. 
sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.
everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldn’t let it go. 
case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.  
as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink — his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in. 
“thanks,” luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly. 
 the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again. 
“i guess chiron and your dad decided you weren’t ready for a quest.”
luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”
“the only time you’d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.” you looked down at luke’s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. “you promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."
fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasn’t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right — he had let her down. 
the realization made luke’s day go from bad to worse. 
"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.”
“well, thank the gods everything worked in the end,” luke grumbled. 
“don’t thank the gods,” you quipped. “thank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.”
when luke didn’t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.
“look, i’m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods don’t get to define what a hero is, or how you don’t need a quest to prove that you’re worthy of being one. we’ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this won’t be our last time, either.”
“then why are you here?” the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.
“because she’s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didn’t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan s’mores. you could probably use one, too, since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” 
you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.  
later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many s’mores as she wanted. you’d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabin’s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning. 
when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each other’s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone? 
luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabeth’s warnings. she handed him another one. 
"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward." 
whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabeth’s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of you. 
(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)
“i just….i can’t fucking believe you, luke.”
“i don’t get why you’re so upset — you’ve never cared about quests before.”
luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp. 
annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadn’t found anything so far, which meant that you’d spent the better part of an hour bickering over luke’s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.  
before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready. 
a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him. 
luke parried his opponent’s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through. 
he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him. 
his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponent’s neck.
you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood — it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.
luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.
“your nose.”
luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power. 
you, on the other hand, didn’t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood. 
“you don’t have to —”
“i know you think you’re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldn’t deny your admirers your pretty face,” you teased. 
it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess. 
it was pathetic how much power you had over him.
“besides, i wouldn’t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadn’t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. it’s what we do. we take care of each other, right?”
he couldn’t argue with that.
a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson. 
“just tell me honestly,” you finally murmured. “why don't you want me to join your quest?” 
luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldn’t meet luke’s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.
he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadn’t expected you to be so hurt. so broken. 
he hadn’t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.
“look, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldn’t fully be in the quest. i’d be so caught up in….well, you.”
a pause.
“is that a bad thing?”
“not usually, no.” 
you smirked a little at that, and luke’s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer. 
“but i need to be focused for this. i need….” he let out a deep sigh. “i need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i can’t fuck it up.”
you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.  
“you won’t.”
you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadn’t noticed how close you’d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.
“i’ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but —”
luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too. 
he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time. 
it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on luke’s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more. 
he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips. 
luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die. 
it wouldn’t be a hero’s death, in the traditional sense, but at least he’d die happy. 
how many heroes could claim that?
when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away. 
you glanced down at luke’s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze. 
“just promise me something, tiger,” you whispered, voice hoarse. 
“anything.”
“come back alive.”
luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.
“i promise.”
(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)
the nightmares were getting worse. 
luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.
“luke.” 
your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality. 
he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what — who — was going through his head, he would).
“i’m…i’m fine,” he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie. 
like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didn’t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat. 
your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him. 
luke tried to pretend that he didn’t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and father’s praise he once wished for. 
what a fucking joke.
every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did. 
again: a fucking joke.
nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.
every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it. 
of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair. 
most of all, you cared about luke.
“you were screaming,” you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates. 
“sorry,” he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes. 
“it’s fine. you just….you scared me, tiger.” 
your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didn’t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes. 
for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.
since coming back from his quest, luke didn’t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didn’t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.
luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreams…. luke could change that. 
but, at what cost?
(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)
luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldn’t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.
you entered the bathroom and instantly caught luke’s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you. 
“what was that about?” luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.
“oh, nothing.” you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. “hey, do you have any extra dental floss?”
luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.
“what happened?” 
you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush. 
“it’s not a big deal,” you assured. “some ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, so….” 
“....you decided to send them to the infirmary.”
you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. “i don’t need you to lecture me about how i shouldn’t be fighting with other campers because i’ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment they’ll get is no dessert for a week.”
luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didn’t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right. 
in fact, luke loved that about you.
no, it wasn’t the fighting that luke cared about — it was who you were fighting for. 
percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didn’t want you getting attached. 
“i wasn���t going to lecture you. i’m guessing chiron already did?” 
you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.
“i just didn’t realize you cared so much about him.”
“about percy?” 
luke could tell that he didn’t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing luke’s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.
“yeah. the kid’s only been at camp for three days, and you’re already acting like his guard dog.”
you finally turned to luke and glared at him. 
“maybe. but percy’s sweet and he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. he’s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as i’m concerned, percy’s one of us, and i’m not going to let anyone push him around.”
luke raised an eyebrow at you. “he’s sweet?”
“yeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.” 
you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percy’s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said. 
satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow. 
the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air. 
“i wouldn’t say he beat me,” luke huffed. “it was beginner’s luck.”
“sure, tiger. it was beginner’s luck that disarmed the best swordsman we’ve had in the last 300 years.”
you nudged luke’s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch. 
“are you trying to make me feel worse?” luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.
“i’m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesn’t make you any less talented. there’s no need to get jealous.”
luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion. 
to be clear, he was not jealous. it’s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp. 
and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him. 
by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment. 
you tugged on luke’s sleeve before he could open the door. 
“hey. are we okay?”
luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.
he smiled at the memory — a real smile, no plastic — and then smiled back up at you.
“we’re fine, karma.” and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.
“wait.” you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. “there’s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow night—”
“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”
“yeah, i know, it’s just —”
“she’ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.”
“one of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,” you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.
what in the name of hades were you talking about?
“they asked you out? like…like a….” luke didn’t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.
“a date,” you said casually, as if that one word didn’t rip luke’s heart in a million pieces. “i said yes.” an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire. 
sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, you’d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.
“but, listen, i wanted to let you know it’s not —”
“good for you,” was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.  
(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)
your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god. 
he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy. 
everything was falling into place. 
all luke should be thinking about is kronos’ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.  
unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you. 
you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphrodite— jordan li.
you hadn’t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that night’s campfire, you didn’t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.
luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles. 
and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan li’s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist. 
meanwhile, luke had katie gardner’s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into luke’s personal space, definitely flirting with him. 
luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey. 
the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordan’s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy. 
katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.
a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.
“rough night, tiger?” your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you don’t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with luke’s and took a sip.
“looks like you were having a pretty good time,” luke practically sneered. “where’s your date?” 
 “they went to bed.” you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. “gods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time — we have better taste.”
“so, are you and jordan like a thing now?”
you gave luke a smile he didn’t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. “would that be a problem?”
“of course not.” he answered way too quickly for that to be true. 
“let’s get out of here,” you suggested. “i think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.”
luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him. 
nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasn’t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it. 
“no. i’m good.”
biggest lie he ever said. like there wasn’t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.
“go find jordan,” he taunted. “kiss them, show them a good time! isn’t that the reason why you got all pretty?”
you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.
“look, we haven’t really talked lately, and i think we should.”
“go find jordan,” he mocked once more. “almost all the aphrodite kids are here, and i’m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fu—”
“luke.” you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. “if you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, you’re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i don’t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.”
you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down. 
in ways you didn’t realize, you were right: he couldn’t risk revealing it, not now.
not yet. 
“do whatever you want, castellan,” you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.“i’m leaving.”
luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog. 
luke didn’t know if he’d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more. 
“i’m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,” he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.
“gods, enough about jordan!” luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. “i was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!”
“you….” luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. “what?”
luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.
“why…why would you agree to do that?”
you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously. 
“jordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.”
“you seemed so…so into it, though,” luke stammered, the memory of you in jordan’s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.
“it’s called acting, dumbass.” the camp didn’t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. “anyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldn’t listen.” you took a deep breath. “and, honestly, i didn’t push it because….i figured i should test a hypothesis.”
a hypothesis? you’d known annabeth for too long.
“what hypothesis?”
you hesitated. 
“it doesn’t matter. fuck, this was stupid,” you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and luke’s not far behind. 
“what hypothesis?” he asked again.
nothing but rushed footsteps.
“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.
third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.
“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated. 
this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. you’d gotten quieter with your rage as you’d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well. 
“i’m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. i’m angry at your dad for the way he’s treated you, but — you, luke castellan.” you finally met luke’s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. “i’m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.” 
your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.
did you know?
“you haven’t been the same since your quest,” you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. “and i’ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but you….you’ve never tried to ice me out before. you’ve been acting distant since december, and it’s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best …..” you swallowed the word friend. “how much i miss you?”
luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know i’ve been distant, but i’ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe! 
would you hate him, if you knew? 
you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, he’d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage. 
"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and then….” you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasn’t sure.
a smirk spread across luke’s face at the revelation that he hadn’t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything he’s done.
“why do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?” 
as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns. 
“why do you care if i’m with jordan fucking li?” you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldn’t be you who yielded this fight.
“because i want to be the one you’re with.” at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. “why do you care if i make out with katie gardner?”
“because.” you drew in a sharp breath when luke’s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. “don’t make me say it, tiger.” 
the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didn’t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you weren’t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment. 
luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.
in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips. 
so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.
no, you certainly weren’t a saint — but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.
the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe. 
maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.
and yet — maybe wasn’t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldn’t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his. 
“wait.”
it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath. 
“i promised jordan that we’d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep this…” you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. “a secret until then?”
luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.
(vii. you wouldn’t hesitate to make him bleed)
luke had just left percy jackson to die.
he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time. 
the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.
“hey, tiger.” you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. “wanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.”
for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted. 
“i don’t have much time.”
you seemed to notice luke’s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor. 
luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.
percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyone’s big brother. 
you, on the other hand, didn’t express any sense of shock. 
“luke.” you said his name like you weren’t quite sure it was poison. “i’m going to give you five seconds to tell me that you’re joking.”
five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.
“i….i should have told you sooner.”
“yeah,” you scoffed. “you should have. but, you didn’t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? it’s fucking delusional.” 
“it’s not delusional—”
“yes, it is!” you glared at him. “you’re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.”
luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being. 
“isn’t this what you’re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. don’t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?”
“not like this. i can’t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. it’s pathetic,” you spat. “i’m not saying the gods don’t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and glory….it’s sick and twisted, but i don’t think your titan king is any better. i don’t think you are any better.” 
“it’s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isn’t perfect,” luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.  
luke just needed to convince you.
“we’ve talked about this for years,” he continued. “nothing is balanced! there’s no justice here, for anyone.  we can build a better world where we don’t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i love—”
“don’t,” you snapped. “don’t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.” your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. “that dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.”
something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.
“you don’t mean that.”
“i do,” you promised. “at least you would have died with all of us thinking you’re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.”
you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance. 
“i’m not going to fight you,” was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor. 
in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldn’t think twice about sending to tartarus.
luke didn’t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape. 
“please come with me,” he pleaded. you didn’t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice. 
a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.
you didn’t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.
a turquoise trident.
“percy told me he was on his way to see you,” you realized. “what did you do?”
luke didn’t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head. 
and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percy’s life. 
there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.
5K notes · View notes
annievrse · 5 months
Text
fresh out the slammer
sukuna x reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic c/w: singular mention of sa w/c: 1.1k a/n: all characters mentioned are 22, shoko is your best friend.
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"you're not meant to be here."
the man who stands at your doorstep scoffs. your 6 foot 3, pink-haired ex takes up the entirety of the doorway, and you have to force down the urge to jump him.
you tilt your head when he doesn't answer. "ryomen, you need to leave. right now."
a single eyebrows arches. "i know damn well you ain't talkin’ to me like that."
rolling your eyes, you know he won’t do anything you say. so, opening your front door wider, sukuna steps inside, his left hand scratching the back of his neck.
“see, being nice isn’t that hard,” he teases, glancing at you over his shoulder. sighing, you close the door, eyeing him wearily as he lingers in the hallway.
“new key hook?” sukuna smiles, pointing at the wall.
you shake your head in disbelief. “why’re you here?”
sukuna raises his eyebrows, spinning to face you. but you realise your mistake too late.
with the door at your back and nowhere to go, you’re cornered by your ex-boyfriend. yet, he seems to know exactly what he’s doing, with his tongue poking his cheek as he approaches.
“where were you on sunday?”
your breath hitches in your throat when he runs a finger along your collarbone, but you won’t let him get you that easy.
“nowhere,” you insist, staring him down. he always said you were brave for doing that — you were the only one to ever do so.
“funny,” the corner of his mouth turns upward. “i heard something different.”
you give him no reaction. besides, what’s it to him?
“ok, and?”
“ooo,” he laughs deeply, his head tilting. “so it’s true.”
“ryomen—“
“come on baby, you know that’s not my name to you.”
“ryomen,” you press, putting your hand on his chest to keep him at a distance. “you need to leave.”
the faux pout he gives you makes you want to slap him, but you can’t bring yourself to do something so heinous to him.
“fine,” you concede. “yeah, i went on a hinge date, so what?”
“so what?” sukuna mutters bitterly. “it’s not ‘so what’ when he tries to force himself on you, baby.”
your face heats at the mention of it. “sukuna—“
“and you didn’t think to tell me?” he presses his hand on the door behind you, his body dangerously close to yours.
“i was scared,” you whisper, gaze on his chest to avoid his eyes. you notice his body visibly relax, his head hanging closer to yours to hear. “i knew you would do something about it, and i didn’t want you to get in trouble.”
“you don’t need to worry about me,” sukuna asserts, his finger under your chin to lift your face towards his. “it’s already been taken care of, and i’m still here.”
your eyes widen slightly, head moving to look at his right hand on the door. spread on the brown wood is his hand, larger as always, the pale skin on his knuckles red and purple and bloody and you’re shocked you didn’t see it before.
reaching up, you grab sukuna’s hand to cradle it in your own. “you’re joking.”
“you’re not a joke to me, sweetheart.”
sighing, you side step him, holding his injured hand in your own. he follows mindlessly behind you, checking out his left hand that is just as bloody as the other.
entering the bathroom, you don’t need to tell him where to sit before you dig the first aid kit out of the cupboard beneath the sink. you hadn’t had to use it in a while.
“kuna,” you murmur, observing his hands. he doesn’t reply. instead, he watches you, like he always does.
faces level, you set everything onto the counter. standing between his thighs makes your body feel numb. and when one of his hands covers your hip, you focus on the other.
sukuna doesn’t flinch when you clean his knuckles with alcohol, and doesn’t object when you smooth frozen band-aids over the particularly bad cuts.
“thanks, baby,” sukuna says, not checking to see if you cleaned them correctly—you always do.
“don’t mention it,” you dismiss flippantly, putting the red soaked cloth in the sink and the aid pack back in the cupboard.
the silence is comfortable but charged with something you don’t want to acknowledge. the muted chatter from the tv in the living room penetrates the bathroom wall, and you come back to your senses.
“does shoko know?”
“she told me.”
you sigh, if she couldn’t get her hands on your hinge date, she’d tell someone who could—and he did.
“he had a bruise where you punched him,” sukuna quips. “but i may have made it worse.”
you twist your lips sheepishly. “yeah, well, i wasn’t letting him get away that easy.”
“that’s my girl.”
the comment makes your stomach flutter pathetically.
“you wanna stay over?” you blurt, face warm.
sukuna knows better than to tease you right now, so he nods, and stands from the closed toilet seat.
you swiftly leave the bathroom, pacing down the hallway to curl up on the couch. sukuna walks in idly, taking in the space he’s spent so much time in. one thing catches his eye, and then he’s poking fun at you.
“nice picture.”
your eyes dart to where he’s looking on the bookshelf, and god forbid, it’s a photo of the two of you at tokyo tower. but, you’re not embarrassed.
“yeah, i look hot.”
sukuna chuckles, sitting next to you and propping his feet up on the coffee table. “you look hot all the time, shut up.”
drawing in a breath, you can’t contain yourself anymore. you circle your arm around his neck, fingers threading through his pink locks. sukuna turns his head toward you, lips inches apart.
“feet off the table.”
“don’t tell me what to do.”
you snicker, brushing his hair off his forehead.
“fresh out the slammer,” you joke. “and you come here.”
“of course,” sukuna looks confused. “where else would i go?”
you bite the inside of your cheek to stop your emotions from showing.
“i don’t know,” you glance down at when his fingers play with the drawstring of your sweatpants. “a new girl?”
“please,” sukuna scoffs. “like anyone else would put up with my shit.”
you give him a deadpan look.
sukuna rolls his eyes. “you’re my pretty baby, i’ll always come home to you or whatever,” he says lazily.
you run your thumb over his cheekbone. "kuna.”
he raises his eyebrows in question, but he knows what you’re asking.
“i need something from you," you mumble, tracing his lips with your eyes.
"oh yeah?" he smirks, voice low. "and what's that?"
you shrug, licking your lips. “nothing.”
sukuna rolls his eyes and lifts your hips up and over him, your knees bracketing his thighs. you squeal softly, forgetting just how strong he is.
sukuna shifts his hips underneath you. “you’re so—”
“kiss me.”
you don’t have to tell him twice.
2K notes · View notes
lewisvinga · 1 year
Text
thank you, nurse ! | lando norris x nursing student! reader
summary; everyone thought it was strange yn never made it to races until it’s finally revealed why
fc; belajuliana_
note; as a future nursing student, i needed this
nclex is the exam you take after finishing the nursing program to become a registered nurse !!!!
masterlist !
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liked by landonorris, bsfusername, and 120,038 others!
yourusername: post-night clinicals, at least it was w bsfusername !
bsfusername: we better get on our professors good side after doing night clinicals 3 weeks in a row😒😒
yourusername: night clinicals are a vibe
bsfusername: they really are especially with a mcdonald��s iced coffee
yourusername: ‘murica 🦅🦅
username: omg
username: SHES A NURSING STUDENT
username: so pretty omg
landonorris: nurse help!! i’m hurt, i think you need to check it out 😏😉
yourusername: i’m not registered yet sorry😕😕😕
landonorris: babe, pls play along 💔💔
yourusername: SORRY BABE, i can heal u quickly 😉
username: she’s pretty, smart, and helps people in need , she really got y’all
username: clinicals are NO joke, no wonder she couldn’t make it to any races
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liked by username, username, and 349,937 others!
f1wags: Lando Norris and his girlfriend, Y/n L/n, were spotted at dinner just 2 days before the Silverstein Grand Prix!
username: the way she looks at him🥹🥹
username: everyone doubting her love for him when she smiles at him like THAT
username: he deserves better
username: like you?? LMFAOO
username: they’re so cute what
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 1,748,927 others!
landonorris: P2 and a 🏆 at my home race !!!!!!!! ❤️you guys are crazyyyyyyyyy 💙 extra thank you to my favorite nurse for nursing me back to health 💓💓
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: do not be fooled everyone, it was just a cut which i healed with a hello kitty band aid!
landonorris: like i said, thank you, nurse !
yourusername: so so so so proud of u🥹🥹
liked by landonorris !
username: lando p2 is everything
username: LANDO PODIUM AT HIS HOME RACE!!
mclaren: 🧡
username: he fr loves her
username: ‘my favorite nurse’ ME AND WHO😫😫
username: the clip of her in mclaren’s garage🥹
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 394,038 others!
yourusername: p2 for my love 🧡🧡 so unbelievably proud of you! here’s to many more podiums! i love you so much🧡🧡
tagged; landonorris
landonorris: AWHHH
landonorris: i love you so much , thank you for being my lucky charm and for nursing me back to health w my paper cut🧡🧡🧡💓💓💓
yourusername: i’ll nurse you back to health anytime 💗💗
oscarpiastri: don’t let lando fool you he squealed
yourusername: when doesn’t he squeal
username: omg they’re so cute
username: laying on the highway tonight
username: i want to know what manifestations yn did bc they’re ADORABLE
yourusername posted to their story !
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liked by yourusername, bsfusername, and 1,203,938 others!
landonorris: guess who is dating an official!! registered pediatric nurse!!!! congratulations on passing the nclex my love. so proud of you for making it through nursing school. i love you so much, Y/n L/n R.N.
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: couldn’t have done it w/o our facetime sessions 🥹🥹
landonorris: making sure you study hard, R.N!!
yourusername: R.N. does sound nice 😌
yourusername: i love love love love you!!!!
landonorris: and i love love love love love you!!!
yourusername: happy to nurse my favorite driver back to health any day
landonorris: searching up on how to purposely get sick 🧐🧐🧐🧐
username: OMGOMGOMG
username: she was busy in nursing school that’s why she couldn’t visit 😫😫
username: she helps KIDS you can’t hate her 😫
username: idk if i want him or her
oscarpiastri: congrats!!! now can you visit lando more often so i don’t have to hear him whining all the time!!!
yourusername: i’ll try😌
landonorris: i don’t whine that much !!
carlossainz55: enhorabuena! [congratulations]
yourusername: gracias ❤️🧡 [thank you]
username: lando’s girlfriend being a nurse is everything
username: lando won the lottery omggg
3K notes · View notes
logansdoll · 1 month
Note
begging for more dad logan please
406
Logan was always one to mind his own business, never really sticking his nose in anything unless it directly concerned him... until he heard your screams coming from next door.
CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place after Deadpool 3, heavy subjects, domestic abuse, more Logan interacting with kids (or rather kid), angst with comfort, etc.
If you or a loved one are experiencing domestic abuse, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline (US) at 800-799-7233 for twenty-four hour assistance. Your voice matters <3
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"Jesus-fuckin'-Christ," Logan groaned, throwing his forearm over his eyes as the loud, stumbling sound of your husband's work boots slithered through the walls.
'It's two in the goddamn morning...'
Audibly, the man bumped into a table, letting out a loud string of curses before kicking off his shoes, sending them flying into a shelf with two thumps.
No doubt making another mess for you to clean up.
Logan couldn't wrap his around someone like you ending up with an asshole like your husband.
Despite the countless other people on his floor, you were the first to greet Logan when he moved in—a pretty little thing standing in his doorway with a plate of cookies, a warm smile, and a boy no older than five clinging to her leg.
"Hi!" you greeted, instantly clocking the taut expression on his face. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting your unpacking..."
"S'fine," he nodded for you to go on, rubbing the sleep out his eyes as he leaned against the door frame, purposefully blocking his messy bed from your view.
He was napping, actually.
"I just wanted to introduce myself since you're new to the floor. And bring you a little something to say we're glad to have you," you went on, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
Carefully, you held out the plate for him to take, the man examining at it with a suspicious eye.
"I'm (y/n), and this is my son, Caleb. We're your neighbors in 406."
Wary, but still wanting to be polite, he took the tray, eyes flitting down to the boy at your leg—the poor thing cowering further behind you under the man's sharp gaze.
You let out a small laugh, softly resting your hand in his curly hair, "He's a little shy."
Glancing back up at you, Logan's eyes suddenly locked onto the clutter of band-aids around your wrist, their formation... odd.
"What's with all the bandages?" he asked, bluntly.
Your face fell for a fraction of a second, though you quickly replaced your smile, waving him off.
"Oh, just a little kitchen accident. I can be a bit clumsy," you assured, your tone a little more distant than before.
Something in his gut told him that wasn't right.
But it was none of his business, so he dropped it, focusing his energy on the fact that you seemed to be an angel in human form, and the most persistent woman he'd ever met.
You worked as a baker at a local cafe, and often brought him leftovers or samples to eat, along with some of your own creations.
And despite his less-than-warm personality during the early days, you still kept at it; always greeting him with a warm smile and kind words.
It wasn't long before your son joined in as well, bringing over some of his comics for the two to read together on occasion.
Though not as much as a talker as you, he was still just as gentle, resting a quiet head on Logan's side as the man flatly read the latest Superman issue.
But it was when your husband would come around that things would become an issue.
Logan could hear your voice bleed through the drywall, groggily confronting the man—the words "Caleb", "Awake", and "School Tomorrow" seeming to push through the muffle.
Surprisingly, Logan had never met your husband before, the man leaving super early in the morning for work, and coming home inappropriately late at night.
And on weekends he just... wasn't around.
It was only times like this that Logan would remember he even existed.
And in that moment, he must've said something awful, because suddenly your voice was rising, becoming sharper and harsher.
'Fuckin' bastard...'
On those few off-occasions where you slipped up—missed a band-aid, wore too short of a sleeve—Logan noticed the marks.
A bruise here... a red mark there... the faint scent of peroxide.
Yet despite his frequent (frequent) questions, you seemed to always have an excuse.
Little mishap at the cafe...
I tripped over one of Caleb's toys...
Had a little trouble down the stairs...
He didn't like it one bit.
Despite your marital status, Logan felt a certain warmth bubble in his chest at the sight of you, and often found himself rereading the notes you'd leave along with the food.
And although he wasn't ready to put a name to the emotion yet, he did, however, feel a sort of innate obligation toward you and your son.
One that seemed to be coming into effect right now...
"Don't yell at Mommy!" Caleb shouted, his voice followed by the scurry of small feet.
'The hell?'
Logan quickly snapped himself out of his thoughts, brows furrowing as he quickly sat up in bed.
That was the loudest he had ever heard the kid speak.
"Caleb, no! What did I tell you? Get back in bed! Mommy will be there soon!" you frantically ordered.
"What'd that little shit just say to me?!" your husband slurred, loudly, the sharp creak of the floorboard making it sound like he was lunging forward.
And with a harsh slap, followed the shattering of glass, large feet seeming to stutter backward.
"DON'T YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON HIM!" you barked, fiercely.
"You bitch!" he fired back, a large crash following.
"MOMMY!" Caleb screamed.
Logan had never thrown on a pair of jeans so fast.
He was in front of your door like magic, kicking it open with ease, eyes widening at the sight before him.
Your husband was on top of you, squeezing harshly around your neck as you vigorously fought back, Caleb frantically tugging at his father's shirt to get him off.
Quickly, Logan ran over, grabbing the bastard and tossing him over his shoulder, sending him flying across the room.
You gasped for air, Caleb fighting through sobs as he scrambled into your lap, burying his face into your chest and clutching onto your shirt for dear life.
Motherly instinct kicking in, you were quick to lift his chin, disregarding your own injuries as you checked his face, eyes watering at the bright red splotch settling on the boy's cheek.
"Oh, baby," you sniffled, burying your face in his hair and you held him close. "I'm so sorry."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Logan was absolutely going to town.
He didn't use his claws, because—as badly as he wanted to—he wasn't about to murder a man in front of his wife and child.
But that didn't mean he couldn't give the bastard a classic adamantium-boned beat down.
Slam after slam after slam, Logan didn't stop, clutching the collar of the man's jacket tightly as he made ground meat of his face.
Even as a tooth flew... even as his eye swelled shut... even as his nose crunched.
Logan only stopped went he went limp, letting the bastard drop to the ground with a thud before turning back to you two.
Slowly, and warily, he approached, not wanting to frighten you or the kid more than you already were.
He figured he looked pretty scary—blood covering his knuckles, panting, unconscious man laying in his wake.
But, to his surprise, it was actually quite the opposite.
The moment he knelt down to your level, the two of you threw your arms around him, pulling the man into a silent bear hug.
His breath hitched, not at all expecting the reaction, but he hugged back anyway, pulling you both in closer.
Caleb buried his face into Logan's side, wrapping his arms around the man's torso to the best of his little ability.
You rested your head on his shoulder, nose bloody and neck bruised as you melted against him, your hands resting softly against his bare chest.
Like a spotty drizzle, he felt a few stray tears land on his collarbone, forcing him to turn to their source, only to see you look up at him with your beautiful eyes, all glassy with relief.
'Fuck...'
How could a heart be struck with both warmth and ice at the same time?
Though, despite what he originally thought, you actually cracked a small, thankful smile, only able to muster two steady words:
"Thank you."
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taglist !!
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adragonprinceswhore · 1 month
Text
Rumours
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Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)wife
Chapter I: The Chain 🎼 Masterlist
Summary: Three months after leaving him, your inevitable reunion with your soon-to-be ex-husband Aemond isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be.
Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, toxic relationship dynamic, possessive Aemond, depictions of anxiety, allusions to smut
Word count: 3000
A/N: Edited and done, please enjoy 🩵 Thank you my love @theoneeyedprince for giving this a look-through for me 🫶
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Breathe.
In. Hold three seconds. Out. Hold three seconds. In. Hold three seconds. Out.
You haven’t been able to eat anything all morning, far too nauseous to keep even a piece of toast down.
The breathing exercise your therapist had taught you does little to help you calm down.
You’ve felt anxious before, but rarely this intense.
It’s so physical.
You feel it in your stomach turning, chest contracting, hands tingling, head spinning.
You knew you’d have to meet him sooner or later.
Afterall, you’d both decided to stay in the band. You’d just started to gain traction, embarking on your first ever tour across the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.
A once in a lifetime opportunity for an up-and-coming band.
Still, knowing that didn’t make it easier to turn the handle of the door and walk into the studio.
Knowing he’ll be there.
You hadn’t seen your husband, Aemond, in over three months now.
Soon to be ex-husband.
You’d honestly expected the process to be speedier; you hadn’t demanded anything from him, the only thing important to you was that you kept all legal rights you had in relation to the band; the rights to your songs. And he hadn’t really given any conditions himself, yet his solicitors took ages contacting yours.
That’s all you’d heard from him over the summer. Updates from your legal advisers about his.
You’d blocked his number after leaving the divorce papers at your shared flat and moved out, tired of your phone overheating from the amount of times he’d tried calling you.
In the end, Alicent, your mother-in-law, had phoned you, begging you to please meet with her son and talk it out. You told her that you’d already talked plenty and there was no point in continuing indulging in pointless discussion. You’d always gotten along well with Alicent, so having her call you to do her son’s bidding felt so unbelievably awkward. He’d always been such a mama’s boy.
With one final, shaky exhale, you turn the handle of the door and push it open, stepping into the hallway.
With the door ajar, you can hear chatter from the studio.
Everyone’s already here.
Good, then you’d just have to suck it up and face them. Like ripping off a band-aid; only painful for a second.
You spot Helaena first. She gives you a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and straightens up slightly.
You’d met her a few times in the last months; brainstorming song ideas and recording vocals together in the studio.
Besides playing the piano, she wrote songs and sang for the band, just like you and Aemond. She hadn’t asked you anything about him, which you were thankful for. You know she’s anxious about how the dynamic in the band will shift now that the two of you have separated. And her anxiety materialises in the way she starts picking at her nail beds as soon as she sees you emerge through the door.
Next to Helaena sits Jace, who plays bass for the band. He gives you a half-hearted smile, accompanied by tense shoulders and a murmured greeting.
Across the table from him is Erryk, drummer and the newest addition to the band. He seems to not sense the tension that hangs heavy in the room and smiles at you until his eyes crinkle.
His obliviousness almost makes you laugh. It nearly manages to cut through the uncomfortable tension, until your eyes travel to lock with the last person in the room.
You knew that Aemond wouldn’t cause a scene and act infuriatingly indifferent towards you.
You knew that he’d give you a nod and get straight down to business.
Still, you feel a sliver of satisfaction when your predictions turn out to be true.
“So, everyone’s done with recording their parts?”, he asks the room.
He’s already pulled out his laptop, quick fingers typing as he waits for confirmation.
Though the tense atmosphere never really leaves the room, you all collectively try to power through as you discuss how recording went and what else needs to be fixed before the album is ready.
Due to your and Aemond’s separation, and the tumultuous events leading up to it, the band had agreed that everyone would record their vocals and instruments separately; putting everything together in production later. This had slowed down the process significantly, resulting in you being far from done with the album your label wanted you to release at the end of the month.
“As you know, the label isn’t too pleased with the fact that we haven’t finished the album yet-”, Aemond says, eyes still on the screen of his laptop; both his seeing eye and the unmoving one covered by a layer of white mist,
“-But they’ve asked us if we’d be willing to perform some new songs during the tour, to boost sales and get the hype up”
His voice is stoic, every utterance straight to the point. You sit on his blind side, with Helaena between your chair and his, and you take the opportunity of knowing he can’t clearly see you to examine him, searching for any changes since you last laid eyes on him, when his knuckles were bloody and panic reflected in his lilac eye.
He looks exactly like he always does; infuriatingly handsome.
His long, silvery hair hangs loose over his shoulders. His long eyelashes cast down as he inspects the screen of his laptop. His aquiline nose slopes beautifully to meet his perfectly pouty lips, begging to be kissed-
Fuck, stop!
Truth be told, you’d put extra effort into looking your best today, spending an hour on doing your makeup and picking out the perfect outfit. Hopefully you’d succeeded in making it appear much less intentional than it was, suddenly feeling a flash of embarrassment wash over you.
Why do you care what he thinks anymore?
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The meeting goes on for another hour. The band’s manager, Tyland Lannister, joins in after 20 minutes, briefing the band members on the upcoming tour. Opening night’s in one week, on Dragonstone, and you’ll all fly out the morning of the show.
As the members of the band prepare to leave the studio, the tension that had previously felt so crushing is now only lingering in the periphery.
Jace and Erryk talk excitedly about all the places they’ll visit during the tour; what they wanted to eat and what they wanted to see. For a second it almost feels like things are back to normal, like the last three months never happened.
As everyone makes their separate ways home, you spot Aemond walk up to a black car and quickly jump in the passenger seat.
Your stomach turns.
You only see a flash of her black hair before the car drives away. The mask of indifference you’d put on cracks slightly at the sight of them together.
You wanted the divorce, idiot.
It still hurts seeing him move on though. He’d done it so quickly; uncharacteristically so.
The first week after you’d left, he blew up your phone trying to get a hold of you.
Despite his inexcusable behaviour, there had been times when you felt guilty for leaving him so abruptly. Even though you knew he deserved it, you also knew that leaving him and refusing to talk to him would drive him insane. What you hadn’t expected was that he’d go and get a new girl a mere week after Alicent had called you.
Seeing them together in real life made you feel exactly as you did when your friend Alysanne had sent you the link to the 30 second video two and a half months ago.
Nauseous.
The video showed Aemond getting out of a taxi in front of a new and chic Braavosi bistro downtown. It was opening night and a few local news sources were there to report. One of the journalists had recognised Aemond, clearly intrigued by the fact that the still-married bandman rounded the taxi and offered his hand to a beautiful dark-haired woman stepping out. As they walked towards the entrance, the reporter chased them down, microphone in hand and cameraman in tow.
“Aemond Targaryen? Already moving on after the separation I see?”, the reporter half-shouts behind Aemond to get his attention.
His date turns around in response to the comment, smiling as her emerald gaze observes the reporter. The news of your separation had been speculated on a few minor fansites after someone leaked an email from your solicitor's office, but neither you nor Aemond had made any statement about it.
He wasn’t planning on giving one now either, unimpressed eye giving the reporter a once-over before huffing in amusement and gesturing for his date to follow him inside.
The reporter, set on getting an answer from the rising star, chuckles before forcefully shoving the microphone in Aemond’s face,
“Women come and go, is that the case?”, he presses with a cheeky wink.
Aemond huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, something like that”, he says, wrapping his arm around his date’s shoulders as he leads her into the restaurant.
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You’d later learn that the date from that night was his new manager, Alys Rivers.
Funny how he’d gotten a manager to handle his possible solo work.
Six months prior, when you’d been approached by a talent scout asking if you’d ever thought of doing solo stuff on the side, Aemond had been absolutely livid. After giving the agent a few well-chosen words, he had stormed off, leaving you upset and confused.
It was ultimately his jealousy and possessiveness that broke your marriage, getting to a point where you felt like you couldn’t be with him any longer. Neither as a lover nor a friend.
Now, the only place he can take in your life is as your bandmate; business partner, and nothing more.
You’d seriously considered leaving the band when you decided on leaving him. Still, somewhere deep inside you can’t shake this feeling that what your band has is something unique; something you won’t find anywhere else.
You and Aemond had started the band with Helaena right around the time you’d first met.
The three of you quickly bonded over your shared vision of what kind of music you’d like to make. On top of that, your voices sounded so good together, Aemond providing structure with his precision while you focused on conveying raw emotions.
So you decided to stick it out, work with your ex-husband in order to make the music that you wanted.
You’re an artist. All artists suffered for their art, right? You’d just have to suck this up and get on with it; continue to create art. And the pain would be worth it.
Besides, truth be told, you’d never met anyone quite as talented as Aemond. You’d never met anyone else who understood the music you wanted to create quite like he did.
When it came to music, you two almost had a telepathic connection. As someone who relies a lot on intuition and ‘that feeling in your gut’, you found it hard to describe music and your visions for it in general. But with Aemond you never needed to; he understood. Two minds wired the same.
Unfortunately, that wordless communication only stretched as far as music.
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You think back to one of the last conversations you had before you left him.
You’d tried to confront him about his temper and inability to keep his jealousy in check, and he’d promptly ignored you; defaulting into shutting you out.
Exhausted, you resorted to the only solution you could come up with.
“Maybe we should spend some time apart, let things cool down a bit”, you try, purposefully making your voice as gentle as possible.
Aemond, who’d been staring out the window of your apartment in contemplative rage, quickly turns to face you, expression impassive but one eye furious.
“If you want some ‘time apart’ you might as well get on with it and leave”, he says, voice chilly. Sometimes when he’s angry, he sounds so hateful it hurts your heart.
“What do you want me to do Aemond?”, you reply, patience running thin as anger overcomes you, “You don’t allow me to live my life, you hinder any chance of growth I have-”,
“Growth!? What else do you need?”, he spits back. “Do you understand what it means to be married to someone? I do fucking everything for you, you’re my wife!”
“Sure, chain me to our marriage. Keep me shackled to you forever, that’s what you want, isn’t it? While you fuck around town, relishing in the freedom you never allow me”
Your agitated voice matches his. You know your words will hurt him.
Aemond exhales loudly. His jaw’s shut tight and misty gaze piercing. He has a tendency to shut down during fights, especially when he doesn't have a snide remark waiting at the back of his mind.
Aemond’s eyes, locking yours in a death stare, narrow,
“So you want out?”
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The flight to Dragonstone goes by in a flash, and after a quick soundcheck at the venue, the five members of Dragon Dreamers start getting ready for the show. 
You and Helaena do your usual routine of getting ready together, checking each other’s makeup and hair.
As the venue starts to fill up, the band gathers backstage, quickly running through your set one last time. You try to shoot a covert glance at Aemond, but he immediately finds your eyes. As always, he looks impeccable.
“Since we’ve finished ‘The Chain’ in production, I suggest we play that as our opening number tonight. It’s fast-paced and will get the crowd moving”, Aemond states, looking at his bandmates for approval.
They all nod knowingly, catching you by surprise.
“I’m not sure I’m familiar with ‘The Chain’”, you say, trying to sound neutral though you suspect he chose a song you don’t know on purpose.
“It’s the one you did some backup vocals on in the studio”, Aemond replies, throwing you a quick look, “Me and Helaena can sing the verses and you can join in during the chorus”, he offers, moving to pick up his guitar, signalling that he’s done with the conversation.
Great, first song on opening night and you’ll stand there like a deer in headlights.
You sigh quietly and grab your tambourine. If you’re not going to sing you’ll at least try to join in by jamming a bit to the beat. Only one thing echoes in your mind,
Don’t let him get to you!
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‘The Chain’ starts playing. Steady drums beat in a slow rhythm as Aemond plays a bluesy melody on his guitar, and you realise that it is one of the songs that you and he had worked on when you were still together.
Last time you heard it, you had worked out the melody, but not really pinned down the lyrics. Aemond must’ve taken it upon himself to finish it, completely steering away from the direction you thought the song would take.
‘Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise’
Why haven't you heard anything about this new edit?
A chill runs down your spine.
Has he re-written it to be about you?
‘Run in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies’
Yes he has.
You and Aemond got married at sunrise by the Hightower summer house in Highgarden in June two years ago.
Aemond had proposed to you only five weeks prior, and being so in love that you couldn’t possibly imagine being separated for more than 15 minutes, you decided to tie the knot as quickly as possible.
You just wanted to be his.
That had been one of your fondest memories together; a small ceremony that was only yours.
Now, it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
Memories rotting from within.
You hate it. You don’t want to think about that now.
Damn him. Damn his love. Damn his lies.
‘And if you don’t love me now, you will never love me again’
‘I can still hear you saying, “you would never break the chain”’
As he sings, he sounds so angry, his voice is almost foreign to you.
He usually tries to keep his emotions in check, even when performing. Probably too scared to be vulnerable enough to let people know he actually has feelings, you reckon.
You remember the song and the rapid pace it picks up. Trying to ignore what you think is Aemond staring at you from the side of the stage, you dance and sing to the song about your heartbreak.
You let the music consume you as you work the tambourine, dancing and spinning, trying to relish in the feeling of knowing your band had made a killer song.
The audience is loving it. You have never heard them this rowdy before, and you can see the entire venue dancing.
You keep going, trying to distract yourself so your gaze won’t travel to Aemond.
He had played a rough first version of the guitar solo he wanted to incorporate in the song for you when you were still together. It really was phenomenal, fitting perfectly with the climax of the song.
He’s an insanely skilled guitarist, never missing a note and always instinctively knowing exactly what melody will match the feel of a song.
The audience is loving it, screaming and dancing with you.
Feeling braver and with the adrenaline from the performance running through your veins, you come up to your mic and sing along with Aemond and Helaena, chanting in unison.
The three of you sound good, like you always do.
The realisation gives you comfort; there’s still hope for your band.
‘Chain, keep us together’
‘Running in the shadows’
You can do this.
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A/N: Thank you for reading! 🫶
453 notes · View notes
wasteddmoondust · 5 months
Text
teacher || james potter
pairing: james potter x reader 863 words, preschool teacher au, james is a single dad (not for long...?), kindergarten teacher!reader, gender neutral reader, harry is her student so you know how it goes a/n: sorry this took months i have been in the slumpiest slump ever. hope you enjoy :,) I'm not too sure about how preschools fair in other countries but this is mostly based on my own experiences!
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"Mr Potter! Lovely to see you today."
James walks into your classroom, and it's humourous to see you seated in a chair and table meant for six-year-olds.
He smiles at you and waves. Unfortunately, you're swooning on the inside.
Yes, it's unprofessional to have a crush on a parent, let alone the parent of one of your beloved students. Very unprofessional, actually. But you can't help but be enamoured by his looks. He looks exactly like his son, Harry. Messy hair and gold-rimmed glasses.
Or maybe he's just one of the only few parents who are the same age as you. And it doesn't help when you know he's a single father and always strikes a conversation with you whenever he has the chance to. In your head, maybe it wouldn't hurt to make a move.
"Of course, I'm happy to be here today, though it's the last time," he says as he sits down in an identical tiny chair.
You know you have to push these thoughts aside, because this was the last parent-teacher meeting for your kindergarteners who will be graduating in a few weeks. No matter your feelings, your job was to tell parents how their child has faired so far in their education.
You take a deep breath and fix your hair. "Okay, let's get started."
You adore Harry, a joy to have in your class. He is very friendly and communicates very well with his peers and teachers. He actively participates in class. He is developing well in the different aspects. You explain everything in layman's terms so he can understand, and he nods along, listening.
"Needless to say, Harry's definitely ready for primary school. If you'd like, it would be great if you continued his learning at home as well, before he officially starts school." you finish, nodding at James. You unconsciously bite the inside of your cheek, knowing that it won't be long until you'll never see this man again.
"That's great," he says, looking up from Harry's portfolio from over the year. "Harry really appreciates you as a teacher, you know? He always loves coming to school."
You smile at that, it warms your heart. "I'm glad to hear that. I'll definitely miss him when he graduates."
There's an awkward silence between the both of you, not particularly knowing what to say. You both nod and look down. You know it's the end.
"Well..." you start. "If you don't have any more questions, that will be it. Thank you so much for joining us on this journey, Mr Potter."
"I do have- um- a question?" he says abruptly. He suddenly seems more fidgety and nervous, gripping the binder of Harry's portfolio.
"Um..." he scratches his head. You look at him expectantly. "I appreciate you as Harry's teacher, of course. He always says that you're very nice and pretty... I also think you're very nice and pretty..."
You nod along, trying to keep your cool by controlling your facial expressions.
He continues, his shoulders slowly rising in a shrug. "So if you'd let me, we can meet outside of school for once," he spits it out quickly like he's ripping a band-aid off.
Blinking slowly, you process what just happened. "Did you just ask me out?" you ask, eyes wide.
His eyes dart to the side and then back at you. "Yes," he says.
"Mr Potter-" you start.
"Please, you can call me James-"
"Your son is my student."
"He won't be by next week."
"It will be very unprofessional of me-"
"I don't hear a no, though..."
And you're both in silence again. You sigh and bring a hand to your face, resting your chin on your palm as you look away from him. You try to think of your next move.
Aside from all of the consequences that may occur, this is a golden opportunity. Your teacher life always gets so hectic and you barely have time to go out and meet people. If you miss this chance you may never get to have one like it again.
You bite your lip and accept whatever fate may come.
You speak in a hushed voice, willing that no one hears this conversation. "Fine, yes. I'll give you a chance. But if anything goes wrong, my priority is my job and yours is Harry. Got it?"
James let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. He looks up at you with sparkling eyes. "Yes, okay. I will-"
He's cut off by a knock at your door. Your colleague opens it and her head pokes into your classroom. "Hi, sorry to interrupt, but the next parent is waiting outside," she says. You nod at her and she leaves. You stand up, and James does too.
"Well, this is... unofficially goodbye, Mr Potter. It really has been a pleasure teaching Harry," you say, stretching your hand out for a shake. He takes it, and his hand is warm.
You mutter quickly to him, "My contact is in the binder."
He grins at you, childlike, and you watch him leave your classroom with a wave. You wave back, smiling.
You sincerely hope you won't regret this decision.
a/n: RRRAAHHH i really hope to make this a mini series of some kind because i have the softest spot for kids and i start being a real teacher in a month! asks are open if you have any thoughts <3 thanks for reading!
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moneyndior · 6 months
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୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ you’re too sweet for me. ⋄ 𓍯
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…IN WHICH! luke feels as if you’re too sweet for his bitter self.
tags/warnings; luke castellan x apollo!reader, teenage dirtbag!luke, mutual yearning for each other, luke being kinda insecure, luke taking reader’s innocence as a bad thing, grape and wine mentioned a lot, my interpretation of ‘too sweet.’
ೃauthor notes⁀➷ go listen to too sweet by hozier tmrw. also i threw this up because i fear i might leave for the week next week since it’s spring break and i wanna see my friends
you watched as luke walked past you. again.
what you did to deserve such treatment like this—you’ll never know. you truly did all you could to seem sweet, kind, gentle—loving. but it’s like none of those qualities appealed to him.
it’s like it pushed him away. like you being too sweet was too much for him. you tried to not be overbearing, overly clingy, too sensitive, everything. because you genuinely liked luke.
and you genuinely liking someone was rare. you treated your body like it was sacred—something that not even the gods above could touch.
luke seen the disappointment in your eyes as you bit your tongue. he’s doing this for your own good, he’s doing this for your own good. he swears it up and down.
he’s too much of, well, an asshole if we’re being honest. you’re a deity he’d hear about from stories passed down from generation to generation. he’d pray and worship you if you weren’t actually in the same camp as him.
luke wants nothing more than to protect you, truly. corrupting a girl like you was the last thing he’d want.
he wants nothing more than to be the guy to hold you, to kiss you, to brush your hair, to be your assistant when your fixing up another broken nose. luke prays to experience such a thing in another life.
his bitterness and your innocence were just something that were never meant to be. and luke took that harder than you did.
you were as soft as rain, as bright as the morning, pretty as a vine and as sweet as a grape. luke would wait forever for you to, inevitably turn bitter. slowly but surely, he believed everyone did. he wished that he could sit you gently on a barrel and wait for you.
but watching you patch up percy with the most careful precision he’d ever seen made him feel different.
like he’d take his whiskey with a chaser instead of neat like luke normally would. he’d throw out his plain black coffee and take whatever iced latte you prefer.
seeing how well you are with kids would make him hear wedding bells. luke pushed the chimes to the back of his head and finally took his eyes off you as he seen a younger aphrodite girl rush up to you, frantic.
“y/n! help me, please! i got a paper cut and it’s bleeding and it hurts! will it scar? be honest!”
you couldn’t help but giggle at lottie as she looked like she was on the verge of tears. for a moment, you didn’t think about luke. you rushed her into your cabin, under the premise that ‘you’ll do everything you can to make sure it doesn’t scar her pretty finger.’
lottie felt you put a band-aid on her with the utmost gentleness she’d ever felt. a thumb wiped away the tears that couldn’t seem to fall down her cheek.
as you guided her back to her cabin with a smile across the blond’s face, you felt a pair of eyes watching you.
luke wanted to be right there with you, helping lottie, praising you as he kissed your temple. but he stood several meters away with a clenched jaw as his brows in their normal furrowed state.
he knew he couldn’t go up to you like he prayed he could. maybe in a few years, months even. if he prayed to you hard enough. if he clenched his hands together harder.
luke castellan would rather hold the 7 realms with his pinkie than ever corrupt what he grew to love about you. even if it meant pushing you away, pushing you to love another, he’s doing it for your own sake.
maybe he would have to forget praying to the gods for a day and be selfish. just this once. he’d pray that the grape he loved so much would turn to wine faster.
things that were too sweet for luke were simply too much.
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badgerbl00d · 2 years
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what makes one piece boys consider fatherhood
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☆ characters: sanji, law, shanks
☆ up next: one piece boys experiencing love at first sight
☆ summary: things you do around these characters that make them think of starting families with you..
☆ a/n: this was so fun to write! i hope you all find this as cute as i did :)
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sanji
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“But the prince insisted on it, and they had to call Cinderella. She first washed her hands and face clean, and then went and bowed down before the prince, who gave her the golden shoe..” you looked down at the now sleeping lump on your lap, and gently closed the book. 
“Looks like he’s out.”
Further out on the deck of the Sunny, you could hear the others playing. You identified Usopp’s voice and Luffy's laughter. 
Chopper had fallen asleep to his bedtime story and was out cold on your lap. His tiny breaths were slow and even. 
“He’s been sleeping for at least ten minutes. You know, if you read to him every night he’d probably have an actual bedtime,” Sanji said, his chin resting in his hand. 
He was sitting next to you, having brought you a drink to offset the evening temperature drop that had sent everyone running for sweaters. 
“I know. But he’s a pirate, Sanji,” you defended Chopper’s sleeping schedule, “And he’s old enough now to not need a bedtime.”
“Ah, maybe. But not too old, it seems, for a bedtime story.”
You rolled your eyes, absent-mindedly rubbing Chopper’s back as he slept.
“You know Luffy scraped his knee, playing around with Usopp all day.”
“You don’t say.”
“I swear I’ve seen him come out of battle with less injury,” you laughed, “I patched it up for him and he said he didn’t know I was a doctor.”
“I’m guessing all you did was clean it and put on a band-aid.”
“No idea how he’s made it this long.”
Sanji smiled as he took in a long drag of his cigarette. 
“Don’t smoke around Chopper while he sleeps,” you said, scolding Sanji yet again for the same thing.
He blew out the smoke, before begrudgingly putting it out on the ground.
“Wouldn’t wanna wake the baby,” he said. 
“He looks so peaceful,” you giggled, “I’m glad he feels safe enough to be resting thoroughly.”
You and the cook shared a long look at how his chest rose and fell. 
He would soon be snoring.
Sanji laughed, “My god! Are you sure you didn’t slip melatonin into his hot chocolate?”
You shot him a look.
“He spent all day running around with those two over there,” you gestured towards Luffy and Usopp, “And Robin had him helping her out in the library earlier. Between all that reading and running I’m sure he tired himself out. Does he look comfortable?”
Sanji nodded, smiling at you. 
You softly removed his hat from his head, setting it down next to him. 
“Should we take him to bed?” you asked Sanji.
“Yes. Eventually. But it’s nice out. Let’s go in ten minutes.” “All right, my love.”
You leaned back, letting your arms support your body weight, palms against the wooden planks of the ship. 
Sanji scooted closer to you, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder.
You closed your eyes, not to sleep but to enjoy the cool air on your face and neck. 
Listening to the sounds of laughter and footsteps come to an end for the day as sleep started to spread throughout the crew.
Sanji silently watched you, unaware of your own dozing off with Chopper on your lap.
He thought about how readily you read him a story from his favorite book. How concern for his well-being had become your number one priority while he was with you. 
He felt his chest swell with a mixture of pride and love as he thought of all the other ways you cared for the crew.
Sewing Nami’s torn clothes, helping Robin with the laundry, reminding Usopp and Luffy to be mindful of their manners, and even making sure the swordsman was getting rest. 
He brought a hand to your back to lightly rub it, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before gazing out at the open ocean. 
Thoughts of painting a room with soft hues of blue and building a crib started to form in the back of his mind. 
He imagined you carrying a baby, softly singing it to sleep. 
Some unfamiliar feeling tugged at his chest, it almost felt like anticipation. 
He took a deep breath and tried, to no avail, to direct his thoughts elsewhere.
A baby was- a lot. And you seemed perfectly content now. 
And anyways, a pirate ship was no place for a baby.
He sighed and pulled his eyes away from you, settling them back on the sea. 
Yet, he could imagine it.
With astounding clarity.
He could imagine buying diapers and binkies. Buying tiny clothes and matching outfits. 
Waking you up in the morning with breakfast and coffee in a house of your own. 
Coming home to you every night, staying in one place.
Your parents visiting and your lives being somewhat normal.
No bounties or navy or treaties or bars or women or swordsmen. 
But not now.
The soft swaying of the ship on choppy waters lulled him back to where he was.
The sounds of life at sea slowly came back to him. 
It was late and he had an early morning, full of cooking for the Pirate King ahead of him. 
“Sweetheart,” he softly spoke in your ear, ever so gently nudging you awake, “Let’s get to bed, hm?”
You yawned, nodding.
Slowly you picked up Chopper, still dead asleep, and carried him down the stairs toward his room.
Sanji followed right behind, the reindeer’s hat in hand. 
He opened the door for you and you walked in laying him down in his bed, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.
You stood next to Sanji, bringing your arms around his waist.
He kissed the top of your head, and then your forehead, and then your lips. 
“Tired, princess?”
You nodded, resting your head on his chest. 
Sanji knew what he wanted. 
What you, so fondly looking down at the sleeping reindeer, wanted as well.
But you both had so much time and so many things to do first.
One day, he’d give you everything you wanted.
But for now, he’d carry you to bed.
law
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“Okay, what about this one? Or is it too much?”
You turned towards Law, trying to smooth out the leftover wrinkles in your dress.
“You look beautiful in all of them,” Law said, writing something down, only halfway paying attention. 
You groaned, already starting to try on a different dress.
“You’re not paying attention.”
“I am.”
“Law, you haven’t looked up from your notes once. And you can’t just tell me I’m beautiful in everything to make up for it!”
“Well, you are.”
“Ugh!”
A smile spread on his face at your irritation with him, as he continued to go through the loose papers on his desk. 
“Look, here’s a dress that proves you wrong.”
You slowly spun around in a hideously fringed orange dress.
You flashed him a sarcastically large smile.
Law, to your surprise, did look up this time.
“Gorgeous.”
He spun around in his chair, burying his head back in his notebook. 
“Ugh, asshole.”
You sighed and continued to fish through the pile of dresses. 
You spotted a black lace one with a gorgeous neckline. 
Much better. 
“Ok, fine! I look beautiful in everything, especially this dress,” you pulled it down over your head, adjusting the sleeves, “Please confirm.”
You watched Law slide on his glasses and turn the chair back around slowly.
You laughed, “You’re so immature.”
You enjoyed the rare moments when he allowed himself to completely relax and goof off. 
“Just making sure I can give you an honest score, Miss Y/n.”
Oh.. this, he very much did like. 
“Orange dress better,” he lied, amused at how this provoked you.
He kept his eyes glued on you, admiring how snug the dress was on your curves.
You were going to kill him. 
“You know, it’s a good thing we don’t have a kid. Or I’d have to deal with two children.”
Law was just as intently eating up the sight of you. 
He’d meant every bit of it. You were always beautiful in everything, and in nothing. 
But that had caught his attention.
The idea of having a kid. 
You and him with a baby.
You kept sorting through what remained of the pile as your captain's thoughts trailed. He could imagine it clearly.
He’d always made sure you had everything you needed, never hesitating to spend stolen gold on you. 
But he’d give you everything. 
After all, who better to give you a baby than a doctor who loved you more than anyone had ever been loved before?
You, waking him up in the middle of the night to check on the baby. The crew teaching them how to speak and read. Bepo would probably have to be monitored around the baby- but only because he was stronger than he knew. 
Shachi and Penguin would make proper uncles, Law thought, and he was sure that, even if he didn’t, a baby could find amusement in the Straw Hats. 
He imagined the two of you cuddled at night during your hypothetical pregnancy. His cheeks warmed at the thought.
He’d do daily checkups on you, and no better care would be available. 
He was already months ahead of himself and decided that while he finished watching you get ready, he’d let himself imagine it. 
“Okay!” you applied a final lipstick touch-up, and softly adjusted your hair in the mirror, “Will you help me with this necklace? I’ll be back around 10.”
Law stood up, stretching his back before silently making his way over to you. 
“You mentioned us having a baby?”
You rolled your eyes and took hold of the hand he extended toward you. “If you’d like.”
He rested a hand on the small of your back and pulled you into his chest, your giggles flooding his ears.
“C’mere,” he beckoned you to follow him back towards the chair he just got out of. 
He pulled you down into his lap on top of him, locking his arms around your waist.
“Law,” you whined, “I’m gonna be late.”
“Of that,” he started, “I have no doubt.”
You squirmed in his grip trying to free yourself to no avail.
“Relax, sweetheart. 
You aren’t going anywhere tonight. 
We have a baby to make.”
shanks
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“You look delicious, baby,” Shanks lightly slapped your ass and you swatted his hands away, picking up your pace to try and keep up with the running monkey ahead of you.
Luffy had wanted to go to the lake and Makino asked if you’d take him.
You had a certain fondness for him, he reminded you of your siblings when they were his age, restless and wild, so you readily agreed. 
“Luffy!” you called, “Luffy, slow down!”
Shanks laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in for a kiss.
You pushed your hands against his chest- he was so damn touchy! 
“Shanks, please not now, we’re going to lose Luffy if we don’t catch up with him,” you said, starting to run after him. 
“Alright, alright,” he relented and the two of you ran together, laughing, after him. 
He was already setting up camp when you caught up with him- those stretchy limbs set you at a disadvantage- and was asking for his swim trunks. 
You set down a towel and placed the picnic basket on top of it, throwing Luffy his trunks.
Shanks sat down and pulled you on top of his lap, grabbing a beer in the process.
“What’s that?”
 The boy stood in front of you, one hand on his hips, the other up his nose, and pointed at the drink.
“Beer! Try it!”
“Shanks.”
Luffy reached for the can and you turned him around before he could grab it.
“Why don’t we go in the lake?”
“But Shanks told me if I try to swim all my hair will fall out and I’ll forget how to read.”
You turned to your boyfriend and shot him a disapproving look as he erupted into a fit of childish laughter.
“Well, you don’t know how to read anyway, so let’s go!”
You secured a pair of floaties onto his arms and ran with him to the water, followed by Shanks after he set down some rocks onto the towel so it wouldn’t fly away.
He picked you both up and geared up to throw you into the cold, clear waves. 
Both you and Luffy tightened your grip on the man after realizing what he was intending to do and created a tangle of arms and hands.
He still made the effort, though, and ended up getting thrown in along with both of you. 
You all came up laughing and gasping for air, and Shanks held Luffy as you swam, not wanting to risk anything by leaving him on his own in the water. 
After an hour or so of swimming and splashing and throwing water at each other, Luffy started to get tired and let go of Shanks, paddling towards you as best he could.
You grabbed him and he held on to you, wrapping his little arms around your neck.
Within a few minutes, he was asleep.
Shanks, who also seemed to have calmed down, smiled at you and made his way over. He kissed your cheek.
“I’m gonna go put him down for a nap. He’s so cute,” you said. 
Shanks nodded, not able to resist slapping your ass as you got out of the water. 
You set Luffy down on the blanket, laying down next to him. He was out cold. The warm heat of the sun covered your body and lulled you to sleep right next to Luffy. 
After another hour or so of swimming in the lake and looking for pretty rocks to give you, Shanks made his way towards the both of you, unable to control his smile as he saw you and Luffy asleep bundled up together, your arms wrapped around him.
He thought, for a moment, that he might just steal Luffy away and bring him on board the Red Force. But part of him wanted a baby that was truly yours and his, Luffy was wild and untamed, and Luffy had plenty of his own adventures and stories to live on his own. 
But he could see it so clearly, with how you worried about the kid and cared for him. You were protective and he knew that if anyone threatened or endangered Luffy with you around, they’d meet a grisly end. 
It warmed his heart in a way he’d never experienced. 
He wanted, not just to be a dad, but to make you a mother. 
He sat next to you both and watched, his heart full of contentment. 
“Mmm.. Shanks,” Luffy slowly started to wake up, “‘m hungry.”
“Want a sandwich buddy?”
He sat up, looking groggy, and nodded, rubbing his eyes.
Shanks handed him a sandwich from the picnic basket and rustled his hair. 
Luffy ate, asking Shanks about his maritime adventures, laughing at his stories. 
“Did Y/n bring juice?”
“She sure did! But you should try beer!”
Luffy eagerly nodded and Shanks stifled his laughter as best he could, you were going to kill him. 
You heard coughing and laughing and slowly blinked your eyes open, your brain muddled with sleep. 
Sitting up, you stretched out your limbs and turned toward all the noise.
Luffy had a beer in hand and was chugging it, you saw several other crushed cans littering the ground.
They were both laughing and Shanks looked like he had tears in his eyes. 
Shanks heard you stirring awake and shared a split second of panicked eye contact with you before grabbing Luffy and running before you could start yelling at him. 
You took a deep breath. 
“SHANKS!”
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Imagine Sauron (Annatar) being unable to resist your allure as you work on the rings…
Distance. He repeated to himself. Although he did not understand why it was necessary when he chose to ignore the warning and step closer to you.
He had donned a new face with a new name - Annatar - but it did little to fade the pull he felt to you as ‘Halbrand’. As fate would have it, your journey drew you to Eregion to aid Celebrimbor with his crafts.
Or perhaps you were simply drawn to where Sauron would be?
A part of him longed to tell you the truth but he had a larger plan that relied on secrecy. He could not risk you speaking with Galadriel nor did he wish to cause you harm. And so, he chose to keep the knowledge to himself.
He watched as you picked up a glittering gold band forged for one of the dwarf lords. One of seven. Crafted by Celebrimbor, they were perfect. Touched by his hands, there would be malice and a darkness so deep-rooted.
But jewelled by your fingers? They would have enough light to remind him that not all he touches is true evil.
“Have you chosen a stone for this one?” He asked.
You inspected the fine craftsmanship. “Perhaps a sapphire.” You said rather distracted. He gave you a small musing hum and you turned to meet his eyes. “You disagree?”
“I merely think a ruby would complement this particular piece.”
“Do enlightenment me, Lord of Gifts.” You challenged.
He almost laughed at the offence you took. But he merely stepped behind and touched an elbow with one hand, raising it a little higher. His free hand caught your chin, fingers gently lifting your head to tilt upwards to see the gold band twinkle under a ray of sun.
It was intimate and he wrestled with his impulsive urges. To kiss you in this moment would be too easy. But again, he could not. All he could do was savour this moment with you.
“The sunlight catches the band casting it in a glow of power. A ruby would emphasize such a notion beneath the mountain.” He said, lips drawing impossibly close to your ear. He noticed the prickling of your skin and the way your breath hitched.
“Power kissed by sunlight.” You whispered, realising his vision. Head turning to his once more, he saw the way your eyes flickered to his lips for a fleeting second.
It appeared that the pull he felt was mutual, drawing you to him in equal strength. You were drifting closer and closer and-
“Wonderful news! We have just received word from the realm of Men.” Celebrimbor announced as he walked into the forge.
With a sharp breath, Sauron pulled away just as you had done the same. He took note of how you quickly busied yourself in the work once more.
Composing himself, he stood up and smiled at the ring maker who had not noticed the spark rushing for cover.
He should have been more careful.
“This is truly good to hear.” He told Celebrimbor and led the elf away from your workspace. “How soon can we extend an invitation for their visit?”
~ More imagines here ~
A/n: Written at 12am because I have no regard for waking early tomorrow for work. When the writing bug bites, you write.
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gothlcsan · 11 months
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Puppy Rockstar ; CHOI BEOMGYU
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PAIRING rockstar!beomgyu , fem!reader
GENRE SMUT 18+
SYNOPSIS beomgyu is the bassist of your band, he’s always been clingy with you and he would do anything to make you his
WORD COUNT 4162
WARNINGS switch!gyu, kissing, spitting, fingering, choking, biting, improper use of instruments, cock slapping, angst, swearing, beomgyu is EXTREMELY possessive, let me know if i missed anything > <
♫ our song - ella mai
a/n day twenty of kinktober. i missed yesterday so i decided to make this one a little longer. i hope you enjoy. this was briefly proofread so i apologize for any mistakes! if you enjoyed please consider liking and reblogging! > < ~ ♡
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The first day you met with the band, you instantly became aware of Beomgyu’s existence. Which was hard to miss considering the way his eyes fixated on you the very moment you walked into the little garage. The band had money considering they were gearing up to start a small world tour but they claimed staying to their roots kept them grounded, meaning you’d practice in the small garage that smelt just as old as it looked. Their previous drummer has quit only a week prior, not giving you much time to learn and perfect their songs but they had faith in you and your talent, you nodding at Beomgyu as you settled behind the drums. The stool was a bit shaky, having to plant your feet firmly onto the ground to steady yourself. Going through the set list and tweaking things as you went, you sigh in relief as the practice ends a few hours later, feeling the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Glancing up you see Beomgyu staring at you who’s been doing so for nearly the entirety of practice, coining him in your head as a doppelgänger of Death Note's L.
“Hi?” You slightly dragged out the word, trying to hint that you were confused and slightly weirded out by his intense stare. He raises an eyebrow in response, smiling faintly, and turning around to put away his bass and bid everyone goodbye before leaving. You shrugged with a slight shake of your head deciding he was a strange one, attractive, but strange.
Tour begins and it’s chaotic but better than you had imagined. You were getting used to being on the road in the tour bus, the tiny bunks that nearly trigger your claustrophobia, becoming accustomed to using Beomgyu’s snoring to aid your sleep. However, one thing you hadn’t expected was to accidentally overhear Beomgyu relieving himself underneath you. His tiny moans being just the slightest bit muffled (presuming by his hand), your body going stiff as you hear him sniffle, your name rolling off his tongue. You try to convince yourself you misheard him, that you were exhausted and sexually frustrated yourself that’s why you heard your name. Hearing your name a second time causes your entire body to inflame into a blush, covering your mouth to stifle the surprised and turned on moans that threaten to expose you to being awake. The lewd sounds of him chasing his high makes the hair on your arms stand up, body radiating heat due to your flushed skin, eyes squeezed tightly shut to ground yourself. You go stiff when you hear him carefully getting out from his bunk, relaxing both your face and breathing to not give yourself away by the slight chance he’d check to make sure you weren’t awake. He doesn’t do so, hearing the small door to the bathroom open and shut, the sound of the sink running giving you enough time to let out the breath you were holding in. Moving to lay on your side you nearly laugh out of shock at the reality of the situation hitting you like a truck.
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The next morning to pretend nothing is out of the ordinary, well as normal as you can considering every time Beomgyu would glance at you, you’d look away just as fast. His gaze suddenly felt heightened due to last night's accidental invasion of privacy (not that you meant to listen but he did moan your name so is it really your fault?) Practice goes smoothly, trying to ignore Beomgyu as much as possible, focusing on Taehyun who stood in front of you, swaying back and forth on his feet leaning on his microphone stand.
“After tonight’s show do you want to grab drinks? The bar seems to have pretty cool drinks in honor of us gigging there.” Taehyun asked, you gasping as your reply is caught off by Beomgyu yanking him by his jacket collar. You watch as Taehyun is dragged away, looking over at Soobin and Kai who only shrug and go back to packing up their gear.
“What the hell is wrong with you, dude?” Taehyun yelled as Beomgyu threw him against the wall, his arm pressed against Taehyun’s throat. Beomgyu’s expression was deadly, his voice practically a snarl as he spoke.
“Don’t you ever flirt with her again, you understand me?”
“What? Beomgyu seriously-“ Taehyung is cut off by Beomgyu pressing his arm firmer against his throat making him flinch in pain.
“I will choke you out with my guitar string, don’t try me.”
Beomgyu lets go of Taehyun who drops to the ground gasping for air, Beomgyu kicking water in his direction before going back into the bar, walking past you to grab his case and head to the tour bus without a word.
Whatever they argued about before the show seemed to have settled as you all prepared for the show, doing the last and final soundcheck. You kept a close eye on the two of them deciding if you had to break up a fight you’d take one for the team. Getting to the last song, Taehyun comes over to you whilst singing, smiling up at him and giving him a wink which he returns. You jump as Beomgyu turns his amp up, now playing louder than Taehyun’s microphone, glaring at the two of you. Taehyun walks over to Beomgyu and tells him to turn it down, not being able to hear what they were arguing about over Soobin and Kai still practicing. You watch as Beomgyu yells at Taehyun to fuck off, walking off the stage to the break room, you running after Beomgyu saying you’ll handle it. Knocking on the door you let Beomgyu know it’s you when he says to screw off, the door nearly getting ripped off it’s hinges when he swings the door open.
“Can I come in?”
He doesn’t give you an audible reply but he steps out of the way for you to get inside, closing the door behind himself as he leans against it watching you.
“Is something bothering you?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Gyu, I can tell something is bothering you. You’re on edge and it’s not common to fight with everyone, especially Taehyun like you’ve been doing.”
He goes to accuse you of being on Taehyun’s side instantly shutting that theory down stating you weren’t picking sides, you just wanted everyone to get along and put on a good show. He’s quietly staring at his boots and you knew he felt sorry for his actions, telling him to come sit down on the couch with you. Sitting down you give him a firm hug telling him to take a second to breathe and then you’d both go back out and he could apologize to Taehyun. He hesitantly agrees, you telling him he did a good job, your fingers instinctively playing with the ends of his hair as you hugged him. A tiny noise from Beomgyu sends you back to reality apologizing as you let go of him, his tiny laugh bouncing off the walls as he replied it was fine. He asks if you’d braid his hair out of his face, agreeing as you told him to face away from you. Running your fingers through his long hair to get it to sit away from his face, you massage the scalp, fingertips scratching the back of his ears. A satisfied moan comes from him which makes you instantly think of the night prior, your hands freezing as a flustered blush blossomed on your cheeks. Quickly regaining your composure you start braiding his hair, securing the end with the hair tie that always sat around your wrist, giving his shoulder a soft pat letting him know it was finished. Beomgyu studies it in the small mirror giving you a smile saying it looked great, then saying he was ready to head back if you were. Agreeing, you stand up and turn off the lights on your way out, smiling as Beomgyu apologizes to Taehyun, both of them agreeing there were no rough feelings.
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“Oh my god, what is that Gyu?”
You walk up to Beomgyu after you had changed into your show clothes, eyes fixated to the prong collar around his neck. He lets you touch it, your eyes and fingers steady as you asked him if it hurts, shaking his head saying it would probably only hurt if it got yanked on.
“They really have you looking like a mutt.”
Your eyes widen at your own words, going to apologize instantly, changing your mind as you notice the blush on his cheeks, looking back down at the collar.
“Not that it’s a bad thing, of course.”
He chuckles at your sudden shyness, letting you stand straight up and walk to your drum set, placing your sticks against your forehead as you tell yourself to get it together. Luckily enough the show is a great distraction from everything until it wasn’t, Beomgyu eyeing you up and down every opportunity he had. His blatant flirting as he walked towards you, mouthing the suggestive parts of the songs, giving you winks before turning away to work the crowd. After the show and meet and greet, you ask Soobin if he’d put your drums away, you’d pay him back later you just had something you needed to do. He tells you it’s not a problem, thanking him sincerely before marching up to Beomgyu. He notices you giving you a smile before his eyes fall into confusion asking you “what” repeatedly as you grab him by the collar, making him gag.
“Follow me. Now.”
He does so, practically all but running to match your pace as the collar tugs into his skin. You slam the break room door behind you, pushing him into the dark room hoping he made it to the couch. Flipping on the light you stared at Beomgyu who looked at you, rubbing his neck where the collar has pinched.
“What?”
“No Beomgyu, what the fuck was that?”
“I’m not following?”
You scoff, a frustrated laugh coming from you as you point your drumsticks at him.
“I pretended to not hear you when you moaned my name last night, I tried to act oblivious to you hating anyone who seemed a little too friendly with me, what is your fucking deal?”
Beomgyu is frozen, his expression a mix of horror, shock, and excitement? He doesn’t reply to which makes you groan in frustration, just desperately wanting an answer to your questions. However, he doesn’t speak, your grip tightening around your drumsticks as you match up to him. His eyes don’t falter from yours as you raise the sticks up meeting them back down against his crotch making him gasp in pain. He doubles over on the couch, your brain snapping back into reality instantly asking him if he’s okay, Beomgyu looking up at you with a smile.
“That hurt you know.”
He catches his breath, sitting up and looking down at his jeans, throwing his head back with a sigh.
“Beomgyu did you seriously just?”
He nods, your face turning red as you turn around fast. Beomgyu had just cummed from you hitting him, and why did that fact excite you? Going to apologize, you tell him to not speak, needing a moment to wrap your head around the situation, taking a deep breath as you turn around on your heel.
“Let’s talk later, yeah? I’m tired.” You said, letting him finish up as you walked to the tour bus, waving at fans as you got ready for bed. You laid awake, staring up the ceiling of your bunk as you heard the other members climb into theirs, not yet hearing Beomgyu get in. Soft whispering pricks your ears as you move to get a better listen, chewing on your bottom lip as you recognize Beomgyu’s voice. You couldn’t tell who he was talking to, maybe Yeonjun? Lying back down quietly as you hear them exchange good nights before heading to their bunks. The soft rustle of Beomgyu settling in makes you hold your breath not that you need to, closing your eyes in hopes of heading to sleep first.
“I’m sorry.”
Beomgyu’s voice is barely an audible whisper, choosing to not respond hoping he’d go to sleep if he figured you weren’t awake. The sound of his rustling puts you at ease taking that as he is heading to bed, having to cover your mouth once more as you hear the softest sighs coming from him. Heat burned in the pit of your stomach listening to him, Beomgyu saying your name as if it was nothing to him, clenching around nothing at the sounds. He sounded delicious, your hands trembling as you greatly considered sneaking him into your bunk, imagining his long slender fingers replacing your own fingers that found their way into your shorts. You stayed quiet and still as possible, thanking the bumps in the road that hid your shaking limbs as you pumped your fingers in and out of you with each moan that came underneath you from Beomgyu.
“Fuck, need you so bad.” Beomgyu whispered, the heat running down your legs at his lewd confessions. Considering the consequences of sneaking into his bunk bed, you swear under your breath, turning to face the wall whispering Beomgyu’s name. He falls silent before faintly replying with a breathy, “yeah?” You tell him to make room, checking to ensure everyone’s curtains were shut, slipping down from the bunk quietly, crawling into Beomgyu’s fixing the curtain. The space was small for one person, the two of you being nearly sandwiched together sharing the tiny space. Sudden shyness falls between you two, quickly breaking it by pulling him into a kiss, he returns it with a smirk, a moan vibrating from deep in your throat. He tasted sweet, slightly salty and bitter, sighing against his lips as his hand greedily started taking off your pajama shorts. You giggle as he kisses down your throat, his fingers rubbing slow circles against your clit.
“So wet for you.” You whisper into his ear, gaining a possessive growl from him, his selfish and greedy nature stuffing his dick into you. Gasping into his neck you moan into the soft flesh as he grabs your ass, using it to help him thrust into you, deeper with each stroke. He felt incredible dragging against your walls, his girth making it difficult despite already having had prep yourself, biting his shoulder as he slowly picked up pace. Your vision blurred as you got lost into it, your moans being muffled into his skin and kisses, clinging to him in hopes of getting more. Beomgyu didn’t disappoint in the way his thrusts reached places you didn’t think were realistically possible, your head thrown back as he kneaded your ass like fresh dough. Wrapping a hand around his throat, you added enough pressure to make him groan, his dick twitching in you causing a surprised moan to fall from you. You matched his thrusts, your hips sore from gyrating them, hand tightening instinctively as the red hot heat deep in the pit of your stomach grew.
“Need to cum, please.” Beomgyu begged into your ear, you nodded fast telling him to cum on your thighs, Beomgyu pulling out and painting your thighs, the sight making you blush. His fingers push past your messy folds, long slender fingers hitting your reeves until you clench around them thighs convulsing as you cum around the pretty digits. Both of you are doing your best to hide your panting, sharing soft kisses as Beomgyu helped you put on your shorts after cleaning you up with spare wipes he had. Poking your head out to check if the close is clear, you bid Beomgyu goodnight before sneaking back into your bunk.
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The next several stops you find yourself sneaking into Beomgyu’s bunk, sharing kisses as he takes off your edge, a slight pain growing in your chest. You loved the sex, you didn’t love how much you loved it, the friends with benefit pact you two had unspokenly formed making you ache. It was becoming impossible to ignore that you were slowly (well.. not too slowly) gaining feelings for Beomgyu but it was hard to tell if he felt the same. At the very least he didn’t make it unbundling clear if he had feelings outside of the late night sex.
You were resting your head against the booth table, the other members deciding on getting burgers next door, you wanting something more soupy. Beomgyu had agreed to go with you so you weren’t by yourself, listening to him sit next to you finishing his ramen. Paying for both your meals, you tell Beomgyu to finish up, you want to step outside for some fresh air. He tells you to be careful and he’ll meet you out there, telling him not to rush as you walk out. The cold air hits your face which you welcomed, leaning against the brick wall, planting one foot against it to keep yourself in place. Thankfully it was later in the evening so you didn’t have to worry about fans potentially running up to you, most likely heading to the venue for the concert. Checking the time on your phone you knew you guys had two hours until concert time, popping a piece of gum into your mouth as you relaxed waiting for Beomgyu. A few minutes later the bell on the restaurant door goes off, opening your eyes seeing Beomgyu walk up to you, asking if you were reading to head back to the venue. Nodding, you send a text to the band chat along with your manager, walking in silence next to Beomgyu. He stops randomly in his tracks, looking at him with a confused expression as you ask him what’s up. He asks for a piece of gum, going to fish out the half empty pack out of your pocket as he tells you not that kind.
“Well, this is all I got. Beggars can’t be choosers.”
Beomgyu slowly walks towards you until your back is flush against the wall, you gasping as your back hits against the brick.
“What are you doing?”
Beomgyu places his fingers around your chin, bringing your face closer to his, not breaking eye contact once.
“I want the piece in your mouth.”
Staring at him you tell him to stop being a dumbass, laughing until you realize he was serious about this, going quiet.
“You’re serious?”
Beomgyu responds with a little smirk accompanied by a nod, you swearing under your breath as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck. Clasping your hands together you press your lips against his, the kiss is nothing special as you pass the gum into his mouth, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand when he pulls away. He smiles in triumph turning away as he continues to walk down the street, you following close behind shaking your head.
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The show goes off without a hitch but you cannot shake off your feelings from earlier. Bidding everyone goodnight as you head off to the break room to grab your bag, you make note of Beomgyu following close behind. He shuts the door behind himself and you ignore him as he talks, his arms wrapping around your waist as he whispers in your ear.
“I missed you.”
“We literally just played a show together.” You muttered, grabbing your back and moving to leave. He stops you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
“That’s not what I meant, silly.”
Beomgyu kisses up your neck, biting down on your lip before the emotions coursing through you snap, angrily pushing Beomgyu away from you. You ignore him as he calls after you, accidentally shoulder checking Yeonjun who comes out of the bathroom, roughly pushing the exit door open as you mindlessly step out into the pouring rain. You didn’t care where this alley led to, you just needed to get away from the venue, away from Beomgyu. Seeing a lit up bar sign you decide on your destination stopping in the middle of the alley as Beomgyu yells at you.
“I love you, you know?”
You whip around giving him a glare, sarcasm thick in your voice as you yelled back.
“Yeah, love you too.”
Turning back around you go to take another step, Beomgyu telling you to stop moving, his voice barely audible over the heavy rain.
“No, I’m in love with you.”
Facing him again your face is a mix of hurt, confusion, your shoulders hanging in defeat as you shake your head. You weren’t in the mood for this, not for his pity, not in the mood for the lies he’d try to take back the moment the two of you were in the tour bus and he got what he wanted. You watch him as he sprints up to you, throwing his arms around you as he pulls you into a kiss, your body relaxing into his naturally. Part of you wanted to shove him away but he was warm, his lips molding with your own, curling your fingers around the soaked ends of his hair.
“Tell me this isn’t a lie, please.”
You needed reassurance, needed to know you weren’t going to make the worst mistake of your life on a shred of hope. Shaking his head he promises he isn’t pulling a joke on you, laughing against his lips as he says he’s obsessed with you. Telling him to prove it, you squeal with a laugh as he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pins you against the alley wall, kissing you with such vigorous you almost swore your lips would be ripped off. Keeping your fingers tight in his hair, you jump as you hear hooting and hollering from down the alley, Beomgyu pulling back to tell the band mates to fuck off, you groaning in shyness into his shoulder.
“Let’s head to the tour bus to grab dry clothes. We have an off day tomorrow, let me grab a hotel so we can be alone.”
You feign being hurt, shaking your head accusing him of only thinking with his dick, Beomgyu smacking your ass as he carries you back into the venue.
“No, I meant we can be alone so we can makeout without the guys mocking us the entire time. Clearly you’re the one thinking with your dick.”
You look at him with a “oh really” type of expression, Beomgyu calling you cute as he opens the door, pushing past the guys and manager who just shakes his head, telling the guys to shut up and get onto the bus. Thankfully the bus pulled closer to the venue than earlier, climbing onto the bus long enough to grab extra clothes and necessities, blushing the entire time as the members poked fun at you and Beomgyu. Listening to the painfully embarrassing “use protection” talk by your manager you pull Beomgyu by his wrist telling everyone goodnight as you two grab a cab, leaving to head to the hotel.
The hotel itself is nice, the blush on your cheeks not fading as Beomgyu wraps his hands around yours, guiding you to the elevators. The ride up is quiet, humming as Beomgyu presses tiny soft kisses against your neck, telling him to behave himself.
“Yes, ma’am.” He says with a proud smirk, walking down the long vitrified tiled hallway to your door, unlocking it with the keycard heading inside. The room is massive, definitely much more than the two of you needed. Nonetheless it was beautiful and modern, stripping out of your wet clothes instantly to fall into bed, giggling as Beomgyu came behind you to smack your bare ass. He calls you a tease, hooking his finger around the thin band of your panties, snapping it back against your skin causing you to flinch, calling him a jerk for doing so.
“You know you like it.” He replies back, stripping down to his boxers before climbing into bed next to you, allowing you to cuddle into his side. You were spent from the emotionally taxing day, yawning loudly as you lay your head against his chest. Beomgyu runs his fingers through your hair, returning the favor by rubbing small circles against his stomach using your thumb. His warmth radiating off his chest against your own makes you hum in satisfaction, doing your best to cuddle closer craving his body heat. Being able to relax with him solely without the extreme confinement of a bus bed makes it easy to nod off, Beomgyu telling you goodnight as you faintly snore against his chest.
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Waking up realizing you have the prettiest boyfriend, being the drummer of a super successful band, how could you not be the luckiest girl in the world?
718 notes · View notes
deanstead · 2 months
Text
5 Times You Held Back + 1 Time You Didn't Have To
Pairing: Will Halstead x Reader
Requested: no
Summary: Five times you held back, and the one time you didn’t have to
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Word Count: 3K+
Warnings: not Natalie Manning friendly, not Manstead friendly
A/N: Got into my protect Will Halstead feelings and this is the result. Thanks to @seatsbythepit for being the angel she is and beta-ing for me! Also tagging @squadmuse because she wanted it! Anyway edited this at 1am so all mistakes are mine!
WILL HALSTEAD MASTERLIST
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1
Today was it.
You’d told yourself you’d do it. You would tell Will how you felt.
You’d grown up with the Halsteads and the brothers had taken you under their wing. You’d been almost inseparable since that first day, other than the time both Will and Jay had left Chicago for other pursuits. But that hadn’t changed much of anything. Your bond with the Halsteads was a constant.
They were the older brothers you never had, the family you yearned for. Until the day you realized you’d fallen for Will. You’d fallen so hard that there wasn’t even a way out of it.
And only that idiot Will had absolutely no idea. Even Jay had picked up on it, but Will was clueless.
You needed to rip the band aid out, so you’d decided that it was better to get it over with.
You’d headed straight down from the wards once you’d looked in on your patient, hoping to catch Will.
You stepped out of the doors, noticing Will and Natalie almost immediately. You were already heading for them when they stepped toward each other and you knew what was coming. But it was like being unable to tear your eyes away from a car wreck you knew was going to happen.
So you stood there, like a complete idiot, as you watched Natalie step up to Will, her head angled in what you knew was a kiss.
Next thing you knew, before it happened, someone had spun you around.
Jay stared back at you with concern only an older brother would have filling his eyes.
His eyes snapped back upwards for just a second before he gave a small smile. “Come on, let’s go.”
You didn’t say anything, just let Jay lead you to your car. You sat in the passenger’s seat for a while and Jay glanced at you. “You okay?”
You turned to give him a smile. “Yeah, of course. It’s not like Will and I…” You let your voice trail off and you turned away.
Jay just started the car and drove off, leaving his older brother behind.
2
You knew this day would come. The day Will would sit you and Jay down and tell you he was engaged.
You always knew it.
But you hadn’t expected to feel like you’d been stabbed in the middle of your chest.
Jay was no help because he hadn’t even warned you, even though you knew for a fact that the ring sitting on Natalie’s finger now had been at Jay’s apartment a week ago.
Then, of all things, you had to overhear Natalie and Will talking about the wedding.
“A church wedding, a reception… I’ve done all that before.”
You’d been staying out of their business but those words seemed to find you like a heat-seeking missile.
It was hard enough dealing with your overwhelming feelings for Will as he was planning a wedding with a girl he was head over heels in love with. But hearing such a comment really got under your skin.
You couldn’t really believe your ears. Even if this was Natalie’s second marriage, you wondered why she hadn’t considered that it was Will’s first. His excitement was almost contagious. At least it would have been if you weren’t so overwhelmingly and stupidly in love with him.
You wanted to tell Natalie that she was being immensely selfish, that she had no idea how good she had it and a few other choice words but you swallowed them all down and turned away.
You smiled a little when you heard Will stand up for himself, just glad he wasn’t going to give in, but you didn’t turn around, merely walking away to join some of the other doctors in your department.
After all, there was nothing you could say.
3
You felt you’d handled everything great overall, especially after everything that had happened.
Every time you felt you could do this, Will would pull something crazy on you that made you need to take a step back. Be it his engagement, his wedding, his disappearance, or witness protection.
Even when he’d returned, you’d found out from Jay first because he’d naturally gone to Natalie.
You couldn’t even be pissed because you were so relieved he was okay.
Then, he showed up at your door.
“Will?”
You glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s the middle of the night. You okay?”
Will nodded. “Look, Jay’s on assignment. Can I crash here tonight?”
You frowned but stepped backward to let him in. “Yeah, of course.”
You’d gotten the couch ready for Will as best as you could before getting him a beer. “What’s up?”
“Natalie kicked me out.” Will said quietly.
You froze. “What?”
You thought you’d heard him wrongly. Because if you were Natalie, you’d put him in your arms immediately, you’d take in every moment you had with Will and you’d just be glad he was home, back in Chicago, safe and sound.
You swallowed, pushing the thoughts back down because you couldn’t allow yourself to go there. Not now, because no matter what this was, it didn’t change the fact he was still engaged to Natalie.
You’d never particularly liked Natalie. You hadn’t disliked her, you just didn’t have much of an opinion. Until this moment.
You hadn’t even been resentful when she’d shown up with Will on the night you’d set aside for the Halsteads although Jay was a little irritated but you knew he was just being protective. You hadn’t even felt much when she handed you the wedding invitation at work but tonight?
You felt it now, the annoyance that coursed through your veins as you looked back at Will sitting on your couch. You were glad to have him back of course, but he wasn’t the Will that had left. Jay had reminded you it was to be expected, and you knew that but seeing the unfamiliar lines of anxiety across his face felt unsettling and you hated it.
But to throw your fiancé out on the first night he was home?
You couldn’t understand any of this.
The urge to tell Will everything you felt was pulsating through you, so you swallowed and patted his arm.
“Get some sleep.”
“Thanks Y/N.”
You could only force a smile.
4
“Will?”
You felt it, the fear clawing at you when you saw him running in carrying Natalie, blood running down his face.
“Oh God, Will…”
“I’m fine!” Will snapped.
You’d never shied away from a fight with Will, feelings or no feelings but this wasn’t the first time he’d snapped at you since Natalie had broken things off and returned his mother’s ring to him.
You knew things had been hard for him. You weren’t sure if it was worse being Will who had been dumped, or if it was worse to be you, forced to watch Will pine after Natalie even after it was clear she’d moved on as easily as if they hadn’t almost gotten married.
It was probably worse to be you, considering the only thing you could do was divert his attention and anyone who knew Will knew that it was like fighting a losing battle.
You wanted to tell him he deserved better. You wanted to tell him how you’d never make him feel the way he felt now. You were even down for a drinking and bitching session.
But Will wasn’t ready for it.
So, you could only hang there quietly in the background, making sure Will knew you were there when he needed you.
But the fact he’d snapped at you right now, when he could barely stand straight, his face still stained with blood, unable to tear his eyes away from the room Natalie was in, just felt like it was adding insult to injury.
You felt the worry switch to hurt, then annoyance and borderline anger before you turned away. You motioned at one of the nurses, who nodded at you.
You didn’t tell Will you were leaving but you left word at the nurses’ station for them to leave Connor a message. At least he’d have a harder time fighting Connor.
You left the hospital, making the turn toward a bar near your place. You didn’t feel like going home to an empty apartment, but you didn’t feel like going to Molly’s where everyone knew you either.
You hadn’t gone too far when Jay had called, asking if you heard about Will and if you could pick him up.
Holding back a sigh, you agreed and turned right back around to drive back to the hospital.
You found Will upstairs, standing over Natalie, right before Philip walked right up to Will. You couldn’t hear exactly what you were saying but the argument was clear.
“Get out of my face.” Will growled, just as you slid yourself between them.
“Back off.” The two words slipped through your gritted teeth as you glared at Philip. This guy had always given you the creeps.
You turned back to look at Will. “Both of you.”
Then, you gently pushed Will out of the room.
“Y/N…”
You didn’t look directly at him. “I’m only here because Jay called. Come on, I’ll take you back.”
Ignoring the way his gaze lingered on Natalie, you stepped towards the lifts first, jamming your hands back into your pockets.
The only other thing you said to him that night was, “It’s not your fault.”
You didn’t let Will answer before you closed Jay’s apartment door on him, turning to return back to yours.
5
You had come down to the ED since Will had asked you to wait for him so you could go for drinks, the awkwardness from the night of the accident long lifted. But he’d started without you, because you’d spotted them already drinking. However, before you could step into the lounge, Will burst out, running right past you.
“Will!” You yelled, but he didn’t even hear you.
And you knew that wasn’t a good sign.
You stopped just long enough to ask Crockett what had happened before you were tearing out after Will as well.
On a good day, Will couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.
It used to be a running joke with you and Halstead brothers that one day Jay would hold him down and you would sew his mouth shut. That way he’d stop getting himself into trouble.
And today was definitely not a good day.
Especially not that Will’s gut feeling had been proven right - Philip was lying to Natalie.
You made it out just in time to hear Will and Natalie talking, so you hesitated. This didn’t seem like a conversation you should be involved in.
You were about to turn around and leave when the next words out of Natalie’s mouth made you freeze in your tracks.
“I can take care of myself! Just get out of my life!”
You spun around, pretty sure your mouth was agape.
You could see the hurt in Will’s eyes even from this distance and you felt the anger bubble up in your gut.
But you also knew you needed to prioritize.
You stepped right up to Will, not even aware if Natalie had already walked off and closed your hand around his wrist. “Come on, let’s go.”
Will didn’t move for a second, like he was still processing.
You felt that urge bubble up to the surface once again, the one where you wanted to run to Natalie and shake some sense into her. Better yet, you wanted to tell her exactly what you thought of her and how she treated the people around her.
But there was a strange look in Will’s eyes that you’d never seen before. So, you didn’t move, just waited, your hand still clasped tightly around his wrist.
And once again, you didn’t say anything.
1
Things had been strangely quiet since that confrontation Will had had with Natalie.
They avoided eye contact in the ED, even though there were a few times you caught Will looking in her direction, like he was considering talking to her.
That had only lasted a few days, however.
It could have had something to do with the conversation you and Will had had about finally moving on, or the fact that Natalie still looked at him coldly as if Will was the one who had lied to her or hurt her.
But no matter what, Will did seem to be moving - in a direction opposite from Natalie.
It felt like you’d finally gotten your friend back.
You’d been spending a lot of time together, that Jay had teased you about making it way too obvious that you only wanted to hang out with Will.
But there was something different.
You couldn’t really pinpoint it - maybe it was the way he stood a little too close, or maybe it was the way he laughed, but something felt different, especially as he seemed to finally put her down.
Then, it came. One night, the both of you were standing on the roof, watching a video that one of Will’s patients had sent to him when you heard her call out to him.
“Will, can we talk?”
You felt your heart sink. Of course, the familiar taste of rejection that you’d almost learned to live with, but also the dread that this was happening once again.
You pulled back from Will a little, only just realizing how close the both of you were standing with each other.
You gave Will a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes and said quietly, “I’ll see you downstairs.”
To your surprise, Will reached out, his hand closing gently around your wrist.
You didn’t miss Natalie’s eyes flicking toward his hand, but you were just as surprised so you glanced back at him.
Will didn’t seem to know what to say then he gave you a small smile. “It won’t take long.”
You nodded, turning to leave.
Natalie didn’t even wait for you to be out of earshot before she began.
“I remember, Will. I remember the night of the accident. I was coming to tell you that I was wrong, that I was really unfair to you… and that I love you.”
It was an instinctive reaction as you froze, one foot in front of the other.
But you didn’t stick around to hear Will’s answer, pushing yourself out the door by sheer willpower.
You decided you didn’t really want to wait for Will. There was no point in sticking around just to have your heart broken anyway. But the universe seemed to have a problem with your decision and everything seemed to be moving in slow motion around you, even the lift was exceedingly slow today.
Fucking Murphy.
You’d finally stepped toward the carpark, heading straight for your car when a hand closed over your wrist, pulling you back.
You looked back into Will’s eyes as you turned around, your heart sinking. You really didn’t need this now.
Your eyes must have betrayed you because Will’s expression changed. “I need to tell you something.”
You pulled your arm gently out of his grasp and shook your head. “Not now, Will. I don’t need to hear it now.”
“Yes, you do.” Will said, his voice pressing a little firmly.
Swallowing down the urge to snap at him, you turned to face him. “Look, it’s not any of my business who you see. You don’t have to tell me anything.”
A small frown crossed Will’s face and he took half a step back. Then, as if he’d made some sort of decision all on his own, he glanced back at you again.
“It is your business if you’re that person.” Will’s voice was low but you swore it felt like the entire temperature outside had shifted. You doubted your own ears as you blinked back at him.
Will continued, “When Natalie told me to get out of her life, I did. And it was… not what I expected. That was the best decision I ever made, Y/N. I finally… I finally realized what I was missing.”
You blinked back stupidly at him.
“I promise this isn’t some spur of the moment thing. I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you but I just… it sounded stupid or insincere everytime I tried so I kept waiting for the perfect opportunity..” Will’s voice faded a little, his eyes searching your face for some sort of indication.
When there was nothing, Will spoke again.
“Y/N, say something.”
You didn’t really know what to say because nothing seemed real.
You glanced up at Will again but you knew Will. He wouldn’t fuck around with something like this. He was oblivious, that was clear. But ever since that mess with Nina, you also knew he’d never jump into something unless he’d sorted his own feelings out.
“Will, it’s always been… well, you.” You paused, taking a deep breath.
“You have no idea how many times I had to hold back. All the things I wanted to tell you. How was I supposed to tell you how I felt when you weren’t looking at me? How was I supposed to help you see that you deserved someone who loved and cared about you at least half as much as how you care about people around you? That you deserve to be protected too? But I couldn’t. I told myself that even if I had to be your best friend or younger sister for the rest of your life, you deserved to have someone who would be there for you, no matter how much it hurt…”
Will didn’t let you keep rambling on. Instead, he stepped forward, pulling you gently to fit your body against his, in the middle of the open carpark, and pressed his lips against yours.
It was hesitant at first, but when you responded, you felt Will fall into it as well, the kiss going deeper.
“I’m sorry I was an idiot. A blind idiot.” Will said, his voice low as he gently pulled away again.
You just smiled. “Better late than never right?”
Your teasing voice just made him smile and he circled his arms around you, pulling you tightly against him without saying anything else.
And you knew. You knew that you didn’t need to hold back any longer.
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THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!
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Character taglists are open, hit me up if you would like to be added!
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dark-fics-4-you · 8 months
Note
hi queen 🤍 the way i squealed when i saw ur post PLS
ok but umm what if your tire went flat at night and dark!rafe happens to be driving by, kinda crossed after leaving a party super late but he stops and helps you…. but plans to make you pay him back one way or another right there on the side of the road even tho you thought it was just a nice stranger doing a favor…..aldfjidoendkd
dw im seeking out help rn.
it’s okay i need to seek out help for writing this the way i did. This fic alone is putting feminism back 50 years okay sorryyyyy enjoy
Equal Exchange
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Warnings: noncon, smut, reader gets assaulted by a stranger, degradation, rough sex, implied drug use, misogyny, slut shaming
“Fuck!” You hissed, slapping your steering wheel in frustration before flicking your hazard lights on.
Of all the times and places for a tire to pop, of course 1AM on a back road was just your luck.
You opened your door, examining your parking job before checking out your tires. Sure enough, the right hand rear tire had a gash in it, and was now considerably less full than the others.
With a groan, you retreated to your trunk, opening it and locating your spare. However, only then did you remember lending your jack and wrench to a friend and you cursed angrily.
How could you change the tire now?
As if on cue, the back of your car lit up as another car approached. You spun around, only to be momentarily blinded by the truck’s headlights, but you could hear the large vehicle slowing to a stop.
You nervously shifted your weight from one leg to the other as you watched the door of the truck open and a tall, blond man exited and walked closer to you.
“Engine trouble?” He calmly asked, blue eyes looking down at you kindly. The scent of weed hit your nose, and although you silently judged the guy for driving while high, you weren’t one to turn down help when it found you.
“No, my tire popped. I have a spare, but I don’t have the tools to fix it,” you sheepishly explained, crossing your arms around your chest when the cool wind made you shiver.
“Lucky I was in the area then.” He said with a friendly grin. “I’ve got a jack and a whole tool kit in my truck. I’m Rafe, by the way. What’s your name?”
“Y/N. Thank you so much for the help Rafe, I really appreciate it!”
You watched as the blond got his kit and jack out, and then observed as he masterfully changed your tire. You didn’t miss the way he glanced over the stickers you had on the window there, a couple band ones and then a few feminist stickers that he stared at for just a little bit longer than you were comfortable with.
However, he was helping you out, and by the time your spare tire was on, you had almost forgotten about the way he looked at your stickers.
“Wow, I can’t thank you enough Rafe, you really saved my skin. I’m glad you were driving around here tonight when you were,” you politely smiled up at him, genuinely grateful for him coming to your aid.
“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His eyes lingered on yours but he made no movements to go back to his truck, instead taking a step towards you.
You backed up nervously, why was he coming closer to you rather than going back to his car? It was well past midnight and maybe your paranoia was getting the better of you, but you suddenly really wanted to leave.
“Well, it’s late so I better get home,” you started to turn away from him, but his hand flew out and clamped down on your wrist.
You whipped around to face him, crying out and wincing at the painful way his fingers were digging into your skin.
“What are you-?”
“You just said I saved your skin, didn’t you?” There was an icy edge in his voice, and Rafe pulled you closer to him, chin ticking as he looked down at you in disapproval. “I mean, if it weren’t for me you’d be stranded all alone out here for god knows how long.”
“I-I know, I said thank you, Rafe, now please just let me go!”
“What if I didn’t want to, hm? Are you going to make me?” He chuckled when your face dropped, enjoying watching the severity of the situation he had placed you in dawn on you.
“I mean, don’t you think you could repay me for sticking my neck out for a dumb bitch like you?” He held you in place with one hand, allowing the other to snake around your throat.
Your eyes widened and you thrashed against him when he clamped down around the tender skin, choking you hard.
With all of your power, you aimed your knee in between his legs, missing his crotch, but still catching him off guard enough to get him to release you.
You screamed as you pulled away from him, hoping that someone else might hear you and come to your rescue.
Stretching your fingers out to reach for the handle of the door, you had almost grabbed it when Rafe’s large arms encircled your waist, tearing you away from the door.
You were no match against his strength and he easily pushed you back before getting behind you and shoving you as he bent you over the hood of your car.
You yelped when your hips painfully dug into the metal in a way you were sure would leave bruises.
His large hands pawed at your clothes, and you hopelessly struggled in his arms. When he ripped your shorts and panties down in one movement, dread gripped your heart. You felt dizzy with fear.
Before you could even register the chill of the night air, Rafe roughly slammed your head against the hood of your car, holding it there and chuckling at your terror before hissing into your ear as he undid his shorts with one hand, “I’ve never understood girls like you. I mean, you have those dumbass girl power stickers all over your car but you can’t even change a tire by yourself. And I bet you learned that little move after mommy signed you up for a self defense course, huh? You can take all the classes in the world, but you never really stood a chance against me, sweetheart. I mean, you are so fucking stupid it’s actually adorable.”
His cruel words brought a burning pink tinge of shame to your cheeks, tears beginning to pool in your eyes.
When you felt the tip of his cock brush against your slit, you tried to move again to get away, but you were pinned down by his rough hold on your skull.
“Uh uh, Y/N,” your name sounded all wrong on his tongue, and the smug overfamiliarity from this stranger who was now assaulting you made your stomach turn in disgust. You froze when he pressed the head against your slit again, this time you were slick enough for him to slowly press the tip past your lips and into your warm cunt.
“You’re gonna stay still if you don’t want to get hurt,” his sick laugh barely reached your ears, as your focus was locked on the building pressure between your legs as Rafe pushed himself into you, painfully stretching you out inch by inch.
You whimpered as he sheathed himself inside you, trembling with adrenaline and fear underneath him. He was big, too big, and you clenched around him when he tilted his hips back before snapping them against your ass.
“Fuck, Y/N, I thought I wasn’t gonna get any tonight after that party turned out to be so lame but shit-” he groaned before slowly starting to push his cock in and out of your heat.
“I guess I got lucky after all,” his gruff voice sent shivers down your spine and your tears only made you feel worse. Each stroke of his length was agonizing.
You could barely adjust to the feel of his thick cock dragging along your walls, it felt like he was going to split you open. The pressure between your legs had you gasping and crying out in a confusing mixture of pain and pleasure.
“God you’re squeezing me so fucking tight,” he groaned. “I knew you’d be worth stopping for.”
Rafe was rutting into you faster now, enjoying the way you fearfully looked up at him through teary eyes as he took advantage of you.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were enjoying this, Y/N.” His taunting voice was punctuated by his sharp thrusts, each one rocking your body. “Why else would you be moaning like such a fucking slut?”
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feyhunter78 · 1 year
Note
Can you please do part two of Pink Pastels? Thank you 🩷
I definitely can!!! I'm honestly such a sucker for dual povs I swear it's like my calling card, so this chapter is in Miguel's pov! Fun fact: the bf in this story is based off my best friend's college boyfriend who showed up high out of his mind to her place of work SEVERAL times (I obvi changed his name though bc I'm a nice person)
Pt 3
Pink Pastels Pt 2
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Miguel searches through every database, has Lyla run your face, your name, every detail he can find about you, and yet you only seem to appear here, in this universe where he swoops in right as your universe’s Miguel dies.
No one notices the switch. Not even his coworkers at Alchemax. In fact, they seem to welcome his “new attitude,” and he finds himself with a raise within the first two months.
This universe is quiet, the other him died from a fluke, embarrassingly enough. But it was so random, so unpredictable, that no one questioned “his” survival. So, life goes on as it had before, how he had watched it go on before.
The old woman who lives next door and watches Gabi when he’s “called into work late,” smiles at him, praises him for working so hard for his daughter. Gabi wakes up in the morning to him, her father, like always, eats breakfast, strawberries, blueberries, and honey on her toast, scrambled eggs with cheese, tomatoes, peppers, and a glass of milk. Then he drops her off at school on his way to work.
The monitors beep at him, and he turns back towards them. Finally, it’s found you in his universe, the victim of a plane crash, years before Gabi would even be born. It’s a painless death. You were among those killed on impact. Gone in a moment, but as he watches you here, in this new universe where his daughter is happy and thriving, he realizes just how desperately he wished he would have found you before you ever set foot in that airport.
“She’s pretty.” Lyla says, leaning forward, a teasing smile on her face. “Looks like someone’s got the hots for teacher?”
“No.” He deadpans, though he can’t tear his eyes from you. You’re sitting in a Mexican restaurant giggling into your margarita, another woman—Janey—sits across from you shoveling chips and queso into her mouth, making you laugh even harder.
You’re in that pink dress from earlier. It brightens your skin, hugs your curves but in a modest way, it’s more than appropriate for a teacher to wear, but he’s salivating at the thought of his talons tearing through it and exposing the soft flesh beneath.
Would you cry out for him? Cling to him as he fucks you? You look so pretty in pink, and he wants to go slow, keep you in that color for as long as possible, but he knows himself better than that. The moment he’s able to, he’ll shred the garment, leaving ribbons of fabric in his wake as he bends you over the nearest piece of furniture and slams into you. He wants to feel your warmth around him, hear you begging for him, his name falling from your perfect lips as he gropes your breasts, fangs scraping down your throat, marking you as his.
You laugh again at something the waiter said, and it’s musical, and perfect, you are perfect.
A twinge of jealousy, a foolish thing he knows, but the thought passes through his mind. It should be him making you laugh. He’s studied you now, he knows exactly what makes you laugh, what songs you hum as you prepare your classroom for the day, how you keep colorful Band-Aids in your purse because you just can’t turn off being a teacher, Janey.
And you’re Gabi’s favorite teacher, he wasn’t lying when he told you she talked about you, though he may have added the pretty part. She goes on and on about you, to the point where he almost doesn’t need the cams, he can get every bit of information from his daughter.
“And then, Ms. Y/N told us about her trip to Disney World! She went with her boyfriend, but I don’t know why.” Gabi says, collecting the animal shaped macaroni on her fork. He let her pick dinner, feeling guilty that he didn’t know she’d cried over her lost tooth.
He feels guilty about snapping at you too. He was already worked up, his job, the multiverse, traffic. And last night he forgot all about the Tooth Fairy, so in the morning Gabi was afraid the Tooth Fairy didn’t like her. But you don’t get rewards for losing things once you’ve grown up, and the idea of Gabi going into that pain blindly, having to watch as those she loves disappears around her makes him want to rip his heart from his chest.
“What do you mean Mija?” He asks, his own forkful of mac and cheese halfway to his mouth.
How had he missed you having a boyfriend? Was it serious? Did he treat you well? How easy would it be to make him disappear?
“Well, Ms. Y/N was really happy when she was talking about her trip, but then when she mentioned her boyfriend, she got sad.” Gabi explains, a frown tugging at her lips. “I don’t like him.”
“Yeah?” He prompts her, fighting the urge, to call up Lyla and have her run a search for your boyfriend.
“He came in one time on her birthday, but he was all weird and smelled bad.” Then she got up from the table and mimed stumbling and swaying. “And he walked like this. Ms. Y/N was really mad. Plus, he didn’t even bring her a present.”
Your boyfriend showed up to an elementary school—your place of work on your birthday, drunk, with no gift.
“That’s not nice, when was Ms. Y/N’s birthday?” If he was speaking to anyone but his daughter, he was sure they’d see right through them, but his sweet girl thought nothing of it.
“Last week, I wanted to tell you about it, but you were on your trip, so I told Tia Margo.”
Tia Margo, the old woman next door. He needs to speak with her about letting him know there was a drunk at his daughter’s school. Maybe next time he sees her in the hall, he’ll mention it to her.
“I wish you had told me, then maybe we could’ve gotten her a gift to make up for it.” He says, smiling at her, so she knows he’s not upset.
“I don’t think one gift would make it all better, she’s sad about her boyfriend a lot.” She emphasizes the last word, making the ending sound sharp as she stabs at her food.
“It sounds like he’s a bad boyfriend. Make sure you stay away from boys like him, Mija.” He can’t help but feel protective, even though she’s only six.
He watches as she eats, her hair in a simple braid, a sparkly pink hairband tying it off. “Who did your hair?”
She stops and proudly holds the braid up. “Ms. Y/N, well Emma did it first, but then it fell out when I did a cartwheel, so Ms. Y/N fixed it, and she said I could keep the hairband.”
If he focuses, he can smell the scent of you, mingled with the scent of his home, as if you’re already beside them in your rightful place.
“Maybe we should get her a thank-you gift?” He suggests, his heart warming at the excitement on Gabi’s face.
She is so good, so pure, and sweet. She is nothing like him, and yet she is everything he wished for her to be. He doesn’t know her mother, not in his original universe, but he knows her in this one, watched the other him break down over her leaving. Agony is a cannon event, no interference allowed. He hopes she never returns, that she stays away from his daughter. Doesn’t ruin her with her selfishness.
Just as your boyfriend is ruining you.
He waits until Gabi’s asleep to call out for Lyla. She appears and raises an eyebrow at the way he clutches your hairband.
“She has a boyfriend, find me everything you can on him.”
“I knew you had the hots for her.” Lyla laughs, disappearing before he can dismiss her.
He waits, packs Gabi’s lunch, slips two dollars under her pillow because he’ll be damned if his daughter believes some magical creature doesn’t like her, then cleans the kitchen and his bedroom three times over until finally Lyla returns.
“Okay, boss, you’re gonna want to sit down for this.”
Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @aeryns--playground
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Text
Were you expecting someone?
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masterlist
summary: thinking it’s a day like any other, you simply busy yourself with some homework and your hobbies, until there’s suddenly a gun pointed at your head
pairing: Natasha x daughter reader, Yelena x niece reader, Melina & Alexei x granddaughter reader
warnings: a gun? 
genre: fluff
words: 1265
a/n: I thought there should be way more content about the Widow family. I love to see more of the concept of Melina and Alexei with a grandchild
You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work 
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When you woke up this morning, you were not expecting the situation you were currently in. Because you were wearing your headphones, you had not heard anyone enter the house. Your mom told you she would be gone until late afternoon, and while you were busying yourself with some drawings, you had completely forgotten the time.
Not that it mattered, really. Usually, when your mom comes home she’d always let you know, whether she’d send you a text or simply come into your room and say hi. 
This situation however, was slightly different. One moment you were peacefully sketching some ideas you were working on, and the next moment you could feel the cold metal of a gun pressed against your temple. You slowly looked up from your sketchbook, not making any sudden movements. 
You thought the woman in the room was simply another Widow from the Red Room, sent to assassinate you. You’d been dealing with those ever since you escaped two years ago. 
When you didn’t feel the woman relax her grip on the gun, nor feeling a bullet piercing your skull, you decided to handle the situation yourself. You turned around swiftly, grabbing the gun and pulling it towards yourself, managing to yank the woman forward and knee her in the gut. You pushed her to the side, holding the gun tightly as she let it go in surprise. 
She made a move quickly, hitting you across the face. You replied by swiping her legs from under her, letting her fall to the ground as you ran out the room. 
You made a run to the stairs, moving to get down as fast as possible. When you did, you saw two other people standing in the living room. It was a man and a younger woman. She couldn’t have been older than 25. 
Your eyes widened in surprise as you made a move to run to the front door. You could hear the woman from upstairs making her way down as well. Once you reached the door however, it opened, revealing your mom standing in the doorway holding some groceries. 
She smiled at you, then frowned when she saw blood on your face. 
“We have to go,” you said quickly, grabbing her hand and trying to run away. She however, didn’t move. You turned around to see her stifling a laugh. 
“Were you expecting someone?” you asked her, letting go of her hand and looking at her. “I’m sorry,” she just told you, letting a laugh escape. 
She grabbed your arm and dragged you into the living room, setting her bags down before pushing you onto a chair, making a move to grab the first aid kit. “Natasha, Who is that?” you heard the woman from before ask in a strong Russian accent. “I should have warned you,” she said, sitting next to you and carefully cleaning up the blood from your face. 
“Yeah, you really should have,” you told, wincing slightly when she pressed the alcohol cloth onto the wound. 
“I’m not too pleased you injured her though,” Natasha told the woman. “She attacked first,” the woman replied. You frowned and looked at the woman. “You held a gun to my head!” you told her. The younger woman grinned, clearly finding the situation amusing. 
“Y/N, meet my family, guys, meet my daughter,” Natasha said, putting a band-aid on your forehead before cleaning up the things she used, stashing the first aid kit back into the cupboard it came from. 
“How?” the younger woman simply asked, sitting down on the other side of you. “Dreykov created her using my eggs after I was sterilized. I didn’t know about her until two years ago,” Natasha explained, grabbing you a glass of water to help with the headache she knew was going to form. 
You thanked her for the water and looked at the other two people standing in the room. They hadn’t made a move to sit down yet. 
“Y/N, meet Melina, Alexei and Yelena,” Natasha introduced, motioning to the person she meant when she said their name. “Yelena’s my sister-” “And now an aunt too,” Yelena interrupted, also having a heavy Russian accent. She seemed ecstatic by that fact. You smiled at her and simply drank some of your water. “Are you going to stand and glare or…” you said slowly, referring to Melina and Alexei. 
Slowly they sat down. The moment they did, Alexei smiled. “Welcome to the family!” he said excitedly, motioning his hands up a little. 
Melina now smiled too, getting up and moving towards the fridge. “We need to celebrate,” she simply said as she opened it and reached for a bottle of vodka. She opened some cupboards until she found the one holding the glasses, and grabbed some shot glasses. 
She put them on the table and filled them. There were five of them, but you decided not too say anything. Natasha would never let you drink it anyway.
Melina put a glass in front of everyone, you included. 
She lifted her glass, as if to make a little toast. “Welcome to the family,” she said as she drank the vodka. Yelena and Alexei did the same, while you just looked at Natasha and smiled awkwardly. 
She returned your smile, grabbing her own shot of vodka and drinking it. You didn’t touch yours. “You are not drinking?” Melina asked, stating the obvious. You smiled at her and shook your head. “I’m 16,” you told her, and Melina frowned. 
“So?” 
“We’re in the United States… It's illegal here. Besides, it's like three pm…” you told her, glancing at the clock. “It is always good time for a drink,” Melina simply replied, pouring herself another glass. You smiled and grabbed your water, finishing the glass. Of course you drank vodka before. You were a Russian after all, but your mother didn’t need to know that.
After Yelena swiped your glass and drank it herself, you turned to your mother. “Can I go now?” you asked, wanting to get out of the awkward family get together. 
Natasha smiled and nodded. You got up from your chair and made your way upstairs, immediately jumping onto your bed and grabbing your phone, wanting to tell Wanda everything that just happened. 
You talked with Wanda on the phone for a while, explaining how Melina had you at gunpoint and about how bad you felt you threw her on the ground. Wanda laughed at certain things you told her, feeling as though it was a situation you could both laugh about, and you didn’t actually feel bad about something. You two talked for a few hours, simply enjoying hearing the other talk. Then Wanda had to go, saying her dinner she ordered had arrived. 
A few minutes after hanging up the phone, you heard a knock on your door. When it opened Yelena walked inside. 
“So this is your room huh?” Yelena said as she looked around your room, picking up some stuff and flipping through your sketchbook. “Cool,” she said, sitting down on your desk chair. “Natasha told me to come get you because the food is here.”
“Thanks,” you told her, rolling from the middle of the bed to the side, so you could plug your phone into its charger and get up. 
“I think we’ll be good friends,” Yelena said, getting up herself and exiting your room, followed by you. You smiled. This definitely wasn’t how you expected meeting Natasha’s family, had you known about them, but you couldn’t deny you were excited to get to know them better. 
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