#black opry

[uzumaki-rebellion]

If anyone is interested in exploring Black artists in the country music scene, The Black Opry has a great playlist of people on spotify. I know Beyonce has probably gotten more people curious as to what else is out there from our folks, so I'm sharing a spotify link to help explorers into our deep well of Black music history. We are the blueprint...don't ever forget that. Enjoy!

Find link HERE.

[tllgrrl]

Why’n’t y’all tell me about this site?

Pinning this here for now because how am I even finding out about this?

[telarama]

Johnny Cash hand woven wall hanging by Telarama

[hahawallysimp]

Royalty Wally x GN!Reader

(Art and au by @neonross + This fic is heavily inspired by and set in the world built by Emma in her Royalty Au Fic so please go check her out!)

Synopsis: As one of the few knights left under the Spade's council rule, the King of Hearts takes particular interest in you after seeing your fencing abilities, even against one of your own court.

    You took a deep breath in, calming yourself. Today the shuffling, a gathering between all four kingdoms, was holding an event. Fencing. Though you certainly didn't consider your skills extraordinary or anything, you were proud of your swordsmanship nonetheless, having trained since childhood. You looked over to the rest of your peers and nodded to Arnold, a duke and soon to be ruler of the Spades Kingdom once he reached of age and maturity. 

   Silently, you went to go stand next to the Lord, speaking softly so that only he could hear you, "Remember, you are to under no circumstances become prideful or brash in front of this audience." You look to the younger boy sternly, meeting his gaze before continuing, "The kingdom has too much relying on this shuffling going well for you to do so." You could tell Arnold was holding back some indignance at your words, but were glad he kept it under lock and key.

   Refocusing your gaze to the large hall where the fencing would be held, you took in the several platforms they had put together. You counted eight in total, all holding different duels as the audience could watch from the giant bleachers. Many had already lined up to take their seats, rows and rows of different shades of red, aqua, and green flooded your eyes and started to overwhelm your senses. 

   You shook your head quickly, reminding yourself that you must keep it together, if only to put on a good show for the nobles of your neighboring kingdoms. You heard a shriek, and swerved you gaze to face it, realizing a whistle had been blown and a man, a servant of the heart's kingdom by the look of it, was handing out the schedule for those competing. You raced over to meet the man and find where your placement was in the first round. 

   Seventh stage, with a one... Duke Below? You scoff internally at the odd name, but nod to the servant and thank them before moving away and finding the stage you'd be on. Suddenly, you feel your heart skip a beat as you realize the stage you were put on would be right in front of the tree royals. Squealing internally you think to yourself 'Lady Ebony is going to be so excited, I might be able to impress the royals and give a good name to the spades!' 

   Shaking your hands you go to the far left of the stage, facing the royals stand before finding where the necessary items for such a duel had been set. You smile to yourself, seeing the mask provided was a dark black, with a blue spade painted on the back. Your sword even had a blue handle, though it's blade was the usual silver. As you wait for the duels to begin you practice your moves, striking and slashing the air gracefully, looking like a grand opry dancer. 

   After a few moments, you begin to feel eyes on you, though, as a member of the Spades kingdom it wasn't all that of an unfamiliar feeling by now. Judgement was common among the kingdoms by now, with the death of your prior king and the Great Departure that followed it. You take their gaze and smirk under your mask almost resentfully, moving faster, and striking sooner. With a twirl to the other side, you suddenly realize why it seemed as if the stares had gotten so much more intense.

   The King. The King of Hearts was staring at you. You felt your breath hitch as your face turned a bright apple red, thankful that he couldn't see it under the mask. He looked at you in such deep thought... one might even say in admiration... 'Focus (Y/N).' You continued to remind yourself, and resuming your practice despite the faltering moment. A bell rings soon after and you straighten yourself, walking up to the stairs that lead up to the stage to meet your opponent.

   In front of you stood Duke Below, wearing white and aqua suit and mask. 'Ah, so he's a Duke of Diamonds then.' You snap back into focus as the ref nods and initiates the match. Suddenly, you are in position, dancing around the Duke as he forcefully attempts to jab you even as you move with ease out of the way. His fighting style, if it could even be called as such, reminded you of the young Lord Arnold's, vicious, offensive, barbaric even. Feeling the disappointment fill your chest as you realize the Duke wasn't as experienced as you would have expected, you frown, before aiming a quick strike to his chest and knocking him down with ease, winning the match easily. 

   After shaking the Dukes hand, you could see the anger almost radiating off of him, stomping his way down the steps and throwing his mask down with a clash. You shake your head, almost embarrassed at the man's behavior, sighing and shaking your head before stepping off the stage and setting your weapon and mask down to get some rest. Though you don't get much time to rest before suddenly a servant of the Hearts is running up to you with a cup of water. 

  "The King requested you drink some water after such a match, he is very impressed by your skill. You will also be staying on this stage for the rest of the tournament, so long as you aren't disqualified, also at the King's request" The servant curtsies and hands the water as they speak and your eyes widen, almost left without words, simply nodding at the servant before they leave. You chug the water before setting the cup down and looking back to the Royals, finding the King's gaze on you yet again.

   Clumsily, you bow attempting to show the King your thanks before nearly tripping over your own to feet. Looking up quickly to try and apologize, at least as best you could from so far away, you were surprised to find the kind chuckling at your actions, with a seemingly genuine smile. Such a smile even graced your face as you looked up to the King, shaking your head before rushing to get your gear back on as the second rounds are announced.

   This time you were put against Lord Braxter, dressed in red and white gear that showed off his alliance to the Kingdom of Hearts. Similar to the first round, you played primarily defense, though unlike the Duke, Lord Braxter was careful, calculated even with his movement. You grinned under your mask as you moved quicker, looking for any opening you could find. In a moment he switching from his piercing moves to attempt to slash your shoulder, forcing you to slide to the other side, moving to stand behind him. In a moment, your sword had pierced the back of his clothing, pride filling you at such a genius move in the moment.

   Yet again, you were declared the winner, shaking the Lord's hands as he thanked you for a good fight, but this time as you went to go take your break, you already found a cup of water waiting for you, smiling at it. Though you also noticed a small note next to it, examining the slightly rough handwriting before reading it.

Hello, Mx. (L/N) I just wanted to let you know I am very impressed by your skill and grace in these duels. Truly, your strategy and thinking is just such a delightful sight - Darling, King of Hearts

   You almost spit out your water as you read the note, unable to hide your shock. Your face turned that same bright red again before you spun your head to face the royals. Though you didn't find any gaze on you this time, thankful that they wouldn't have seen your shock or red face. Sighing through your nose you thank the spirits before looking around you. Surprised, you see that you had already reached the last four, and that the young lord, Arnold, had also made it.

   You smiled for a moment, before it fell seeing his prideful grin. You could tell his hubris was beginning to take over, fearing what might result from it. Suddenly, he was walking towards your stage. It took a moment, but you soon realized he was to be your next opponent. You nodded to him but he simply walked past you without so much as a glance, still grinning. The same disgust from earlier began to rise up, yet you kept your face cold and emotionless. You solemnly put your mask on, tightening it as you pick up the sword, feeling the coolness of the handle through your gloves as you walk up the steps yet again, meeting the young lord's stance. 'I have to keep him from winning' His pride could not be shown by a loss to anyone but a fellow Spade, you wouldn't let Lady Ebony's plans all fail because of an immature child like Arnold.

   You could feel the eyes of everyone boring into you and Arnold as the duel was signaled to begin, seeing the King's intense gaze back on you from the corner of your eye. This time, you went on the offense, dancing around Arnold as he swung wildly, yet powerfully at you. He couldn't seem to land a hit as you would simply dance out of the way each time he attempted a strike. You could feel the anger boil up in your heart as you realized this was how he had won all of his other matches. By fighting like a child, with no grace or beauty to be seen in it. You were seeing red. All you could feel was the burn of your muscles as you kept dancing around the young man, playing with him like cat does a mouse. Just like he did with all of his other opponents. You could see him getting weary, slowing down and making weaker strikes.

   Suddenly, there was a gasp among the crowd. Arnold was on the ground, several yards away. You struck him. Hard. You almost felt guilty, but it faded soon when you remembered how he treated everybody else. You held your chin up in victory as you walked softly to the center of the stage, watching Arnold clutch his abdomen where his clothing was slightly ripped. He limped over to you as he shook your hand. You could feel his intense glare and embarrassment as he looked at you through the mask. Though above the noise of the audience, a loud clapping could be heard as you walked off the stage. Turning around, you saw the King of Hearts clapping to your victory. 

   Your heart soared at his approval, feeling your face move to be a large grin. As you move down you find yet another full cup of water, but no note or servant this time, almost grateful for no more surprises. You chugged the water quickly, thankful for the cool relief it brought as your muscles ached and burned. You could hear Arnold's voice complaining, indignant to his lost against his own night and shook your head. You would've gone to talk to him about it, but you knew Lady Ebony would eventually discuss the actions he should take going forward anyways. Shaking your head you look down, before jumping up as you hear a deep, monotone voice from in front of you. 

   "Hello there, Mx. Hedrick." You look up, absolutely flabbergasted as you see the King of Hearts in front of you. Talking to you. A Knight of Spades. Your brain short circuits for a moment as you mumble out stutters and the King smiles at you, chuckling at your surprise. After a moment of pure confusion, you're able to configure your words properly.

   "Oh um Your Highness! May I ask why you are here?" You couldn't hide your nerves no matter how hard you tried, your voice was too loud, too unnatural. You felt internal embarrassment and cursed yourself for being so strange around the King. Thankfully though, he didn't seem to mind.

   "Well, what kind of host would I be if I didn't personally congratulate the winner, my dear?" Your brain officially stopped working at that point. Winner? There was supposed to be one more match, you were sure of it. It seemed the King noticed your confusion and elaborated quickly. "The other two were forced to come to a draw as one was cut past their protection and the other seems to have broken their leg." Your eyes widened. At a loss for words you simply nodded at the King. He chuckled, his usual monotone, adorable chuckle. You could feel your face heat up at his chuckle, looking down to try and hide it, thanking him for his congratulations.

   "T-Thank you, your Highness, I appreciate your thought" He looked down at you and kneeled to meet your height, surprising you as you realized he was doing this in front of everyone. Suddenly, the trophy was in your hands and you smiled, thanking him again before setting it down next to you. "The Spades appreciate you being such a delightful host" You bowed as best as you could from you sitting position. Wally grabbed your hand gently, kissing it and making your face light up on fire.

   "Your welcome M'lady." You felt yourself internally die at his words, not believing he would treat a simple night as such. Much less one from the Spade's Kingdom. Just as quickly as he came to you, he left leaving you with a trophy, and a face redder than the most delicious apples of the Heart's Kingdom. 

   "A King... Just kissed me..." You stared out into the distance, absolutely astonished at the day's events.

[ironmandeficiency]

modern lotr character headcanons

characters included: aragorn, boromir, gimli, legolas, pippin, merry, frodo, sam, arwen, eomer, eowyn

word count: 745

summary: random thoughts abt lotr characters if they lived in modern times

a/n: this is literally just silly shit, enjoy

boromir listens to old country (conway twitty, george jones, loretta lynn, etc.) and does not tolerate anyone insulting the opry legends

he also listens to divorced dad rock (hinder, nickelback, theory of a dead man, etc.) which gimli will sometimes jam to as well

gimli lovingly maintains an old-as-dirt bench seat ford truck despite there almost constantly being something wrong with it. ignores legolas’s badgering about him getting something more reliable

obviously legolas drives a hybrid and he almost acts as if this fact makes him better than gimli (not in a dickish way, though)

horse girl aragorn.

frodo is the epitome of shy emo boy with the black skinny jeans & death cab for cutie playing in his air pods

merry is the golden retriever in the “golden retriever in love with the black cat” trope 

aragorn and arwen host game nights and various other parties for their friends, but neither of them can cook so they just order delivery (or sam hijacks their kitchen for the hours before)

pippin has a large follower base on social media bc of his drinking songs and other inebriated antics that are usually recorded by whoever happens to be with him that night. usually it’s eowyn & merry, and the three of them will shake some major ass to megan thee stallion

sam goes to open mic nights at local coffee shops to people watch. he will never perform himself, but it’s nice to watch people he knows do their thing

eomer accidentally goes viral on tiktok when eowyn records him doing some dumb shit. never lives it down

the amount of joy gimli gets from going to rage rooms is almost alarming

arwen has a very thorough skin care regimen that she introduces to aragorn, and it becomes a sweet nightly routine for the two of them

eowyn & eomer don’t allow anyone to talk shit about or annoy the other bc that’s their job fuck you very much

frodo has a shitty immune system but sam’s homemade soups seem to always heal from the soul outward

sam is the little spoon favored by the resident neurodivergent

frodo is the resident neurodivergent

yes they’re dating

arwen is always the dd

when it comes to birthdays, don’t ask boromir to remember anyone but faramir’s. hell, he forgets his own birthday sometimes

legolas is the best at remembering the birthdays of his friends but forgets his own

they have to remind each other of their own birthdays when that time of year comes around

merry is always the favorite audience member at a drag show

arwen & eowyn never dress like they’re going to the same place when they hang out

gimli says southern grandpa idioms unironically — “as useless as a screen door on a submarine”, “higher than eagle titties”, “busier than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest”, you get the idea. merry keeps a running tab of said quotes

boromir is the “we’re not getting a dog” dad. said dog ends up being his best friend & the sole inheritor in his will, fuck them kids

aragorn & gimli have their own moonshine still they think is perfectly hidden from everyone

that does not include merry & pippin, who are booze bloodhounds and immediately knew where to find it but swore to secrecy as long as they got more than everyone else

frodo sips fruity little drinks because he can’t shoot whiskey

sam can drink in the way only a divorced middle-age man can despite not being a divorced middle-aged man

eowyn cannot drive for shit & the several dents on her car prove it. the only reason her insurance hasn’t gone up astronomically is because she just. doesn’t report any of it

said car has a fuck ton of bumper stickers with all sorts of silly things

gimli can’t ride a bike AT ALL but has a motorcycle, make it make sense

he goes on bike rides with eomer when they have the time & the weather is nice

merry & pippin are two halves of a whole idiot at every given moment

eomer LOVES 90s and 00s country music but is kinda picky about newer country (he is a massive fan of cody johnson but will throw you through a wall if you talk about morgan wallen in his presence)

arwen dances in the rain & literally never gets sick from it. merry is insanely jealous of this fact

frodo’s favorite video game is animal crossing: new horizons & has very sound opinions on what villagers are the best (fuck you, rodney)

[cozyaliensuperstar7]

Beyoncé 👑 🐝 🤠 🐎

bluebeybleed:

Via @foreverdc Beyoncé does nothing by “chance” and from what she does in music with albums like “The Lion King:

The Gift” “Renaissance” or recently with “Cowboy Carter”, the history lessons extend to the visual field and through what he uses, he gives us the complete experience.

For “Cowboy Carter” Beyonce contextualizes us by wearing fur garments like those worn by black cowboys in the 1900s, recognizing their importance in the history of Texas, when they worked on ranches throughout the state, or with references to the clothing of Linda Martell, who She became the first commercially successful African-American woman in the country genre, being the first to play the Grand Ole Opry in 1969 before retiring from the country music industry and eventually appearing on the album cover as a Black Rodeo Queen., which are the

“face” of the sport of rodeo. They represent their rodeo, association, or region for a standard period of usually 12 months and are typically required to wear a cowboy hat, crown, and sash with their title. Being a rodeo queen requires Western-style horseback riding skills, public speaking, rodeo knowledge, appearance and personality.

In history there are Black Rodeo Queens, little visible.

Thank you @beyonce for being aware of the importance of our history, legacy and the power of black women and passing it on to us!

[justforbooks]

Dickey Betts

Guitarist, singer and founding member of the Allman Brothers Band best known for writing their 1973 hit Ramblin’ Man

Dickey Betts, who has died aged 80, was a founder member of the Allman Brothers Band, one of the most influential US “southern rock” groups of the 1970s. The hard-living outfit blazed out of Jacksonville, Florida, in 1969 with a mix of rock, blues, country and jazz that defined the genre, also influencing artists such as Lynyrd Skynyrd, ZZ Top, the Black Crowes and Kid Rock. They scored several platinum and gold albums and were inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.

Although the six-piece band was ostensibly led by the blond- haired Allman brothers, Duane and Gregg (guitar and keyboards/vocals respectively), as joint lead guitarist, singer and main songwriter Betts played a crucial role. A larger than life character with his cowboy hats, long moustache and gunslinger good looks, Betts wrote many of the band’s best loved songs, including Jessica, Blue Sky and the 1973 US No 2 smash Ramblin’ Man, inspired by life on the road.

The signature duelling of Betts’s and Duane Allman’s lead guitars rewrote the rule book of how twin guitarists play together - previously one had played lead and the other rhythm. The band’s huge fanbase included President Jimmy Carter, and in 2020 Betts even received the rare accolade of a mention in a Bob Dylan song, when Murder Most Foul contained the line “Play Oscar Peterson, play Stan Getz/Play Blue Sky, play Dickey Betts.”

He was also the inspiration for the rock star character played by Billy Crudup in the former rock journalist Cameron Crowe’s film Almost Famous (2000), the director having been drawn to Betts’s aura of “possible danger and playful recklessness behind his eyes”.

Betts was born in West Palm Beach, Florida, one of the three children of Harold, a carpenter, and his wife, Sarah (nee Brinson), who wrote poetry and played the cornet in a Salvation Army band. Although his father was also a keen fiddler, Dickey’s first instrument was the ukelele, which he started playing aged five, later graduating to the mandolin and the banjo.

He was at West Gate elementary school when he wrote his first song, Seven Years With Pamela, about his sister. He then attended various West Palm Beach schools until seventh grade, dropping out of high school when he was 16, by which time his pursuits included carpentry, hunting and listening to the Grand Ole Opry on the family radio.

Hearing Chuck Berry’s Maybellene in his mid-teens prompted another switch of instrument, as he “started realising that girls like guitars”. He dropped out of high school aged 16 to tour the US with a travelling circus in his first band, the Swinging Saints, but was playing in Second Coming with the bassist Berry Oakley when Duane Allman invited both men to join his new group.

The lineup was completed by the drummer Butch Trucks and – unusually in white-dominated 60s southern rock - a black second drummer, James Lee Johnson, who had previously played with Otis Redding and Percy Sledge.

Although sales of their first two albums were sluggish, Duane Allman’s appearance on Eric Clapton’s 1970 album Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs – which included the classic hit Layla – boosted the heavy-touring Allman Brothers Band’s rising profile. Their 1971 live album At Fillmore East sold 1m copies.

After Duane Allman and Oakley were killed in motorcycle accidents in 1971 and 1972 respectively, Betts led a rejigged lineup. The 1973 album Brothers and Sisters – featuring Ramblin’ Man and the instrumental Jessica, later the theme to the television motoring show Top Gear – topped the US charts for five weeks, while 1975’s Win, Lose Or Draw went into the Top five. By then the band were succumbing to a familiar music industry cocktail of success, drugs, alcohol and feuding.

Betts and Gregg Allman both made solo albums, before Betts felt betrayed when the latter testified against the band’s road manager in a 1976 drugs case and refused to work with him again. Nevertheless, they regrouped in 1978, splitting again in 1982.

A second comeback in 1989 proved more enduring, although in 2000 Betts was fired over his drinking. That third spell in the band had been dogged by alcohol and drug abuse, lawsuits and arrests, and in 1996 he was charged with aggravated domestic assault after pointing a handgun at his fifth wife, Donna (nee Stearns), whom he had married in 1989. The charges were dropped after Betts agreed to enter rehab.

In his later years he returned with his own Dickey Betts Band and played in the band Great Southern with his son Duane. True to his ramblin’ man credentials, he remained on the road to the last, even after brain surgery following a 2018 fall at home, and he released live albums well into his 70s.

He is survived by Donna and his children, Kimberly, Christy, Jessica and Duane.

🔔 Forrest Richard Betts, musician, singer and songwriter, born 12 December 1943; died 18 April 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[dme-tv1]

Repost:

Born and raised in Leesville, South Carolina, as Thelma Bynem, Linda Martell went on to become the first commercially successful Black female artist in country music. She gained popularity with her hit single, “Color Him Father,” and became the first Black female solo artist to perform at the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, Tennessee, and appeared on the TV show, “Hee Haw.” She now lives in Irmo, SC, and told Rolling Stone magazine that her career was marred and shortened by racism. #BHM2024

[dnaamericaapp]

Beyoncé’s ‘Cowboy Carter’ Spotlights Black Country Music Pioneer Linda Martell

Beyoncé’s new album, “Cowboy Carter,” has shined a light on a country music pioneer that many people may not know.

One of the album’s tracks is called “The Linda Martell Show,” which is an intro to the song “Ya Ya.” Martell appears on that track, as well as the song “Spaghetti.” Though Linda Martell, 82, has a long history in country music, many who are unfamiliar with her name and her vocals, are asking the question: Who is Linda Martell?

In 1970, Martell released “Color Me Country” which featured the hit “Color Him Father,” a cover of a song by The Winstons. The album also included such popular songs as “Bad Case of the Blues,” “Before the Next Teardrop Falls” and “You’re Crying Boy, Crying.”

Rolling Stone said that her album, which was described as “a mix of honky-tonk spunk and heartbreak balladry, all infused with her roots in gospel and R&B,” led Martell to become the first solo Black woman country artist to play the Grand Ole Opry.

“During that time,” Rolling Stone reports, “She also appeared on the hugely popular syndicated country variety show ‘Hee Haw’ and shared stages with country artists like Hank Snow and Waylon Jennings.”

Lindamartell.com also touts her as “a pioneering force hailed as the unsung hero of the genre” who “had the highest peaking single on the Billboard Hot Country Singles (now Songs) chart at #22, ‘Color Him Father,’ by a Black female country artist in the history of the genre in 1969, until Beyonce’s “Texas Hold ’Em” debuted at #1 on February 21, 2024.” -(source: nbc news)

DNA America

“It’s what we know, not what you want us to believe.”

#dna #dnaamerica #news #politics

[oldshowbiz]

Linda Martell, the first Black woman to play the Grand Ole Opry.

[importantwomensbirthdays]

Rhiannon Giddens

Singer, songwriter, and instrumentalist Rhiannon Giddens was born in 1977 in Greensboro, North Carolina. In 2005, Giddens, along with two other musicians, founded the trio the Carolina Chocolate Drops. The Carolina Chocolate Drops would go on to win a Grammy Award, and become the first Black string band to perform on the Grand Ole Opry. In 2017, Giddens received a MacArthur Fellowship, and in 2020, was named Artistic Director of Silkroad. She has performed at Lincoln Center, Carnegie Hall, and the White House.

[70s80sandbeyond]

Linda Martell, the first Black woman to play the Grand Ole Opry

[anintelligentoctopus]

I mean, I (a white middle-class Brit) do not have a good answer for what you do with the knowledge of, for example, the number of classic country stars who stumped for segregationists like George Wallace. Except that acting like country music was all pro-working class and anti-capitalist before 9/11 isn't helpful.

Yes, there have always been songs sympathising with the working man and about hard times. Many country artists came from working class backgrounds.

But then again you can also count the black Opry members past and present on one hand. There were blackface performers on the Opry in the 40s. The black artists who contributed to the development of country music have often been overlooked for a long time (e.g. Lesley Riddle, who went song-collecting with A. P. Carter). Many many classic country artists had conservative politics. You can't overlook all that. It doesn't help anybody and it's important to examine these things. Country has a very long and complicated history and I don't think you can look at in isolation from the history and politics of the south as a whole

[presleybutlervsp]

October 16, 1954

Two weeks after his appearance at Nashville’s Grand Ole Opry, Elvis Presley performs on the Country music radio program, Louisiana Hayride, Municipal Auditorium, ., broadcast live on KWKH in Shreveport, Louisiana. After an enthusiastic reception from the audience, Presley is booked to appear every week for a year at $18 per show. His sidemen, Bill Black and Scotty Moore are paid $12 each.

Elvis, Scotty and Bill performed both sides of their first single twice. Scotty even contributed a short guitar-solo. Afterwards Sam knew Elvis had fully worked out his own performance style and could “stand on his own”.

[ashes-writing]

wanna be yours pt. II | mcu ; p.maximoff

A/N; if we thought it got intense in the last part, holy... Look. There's no way to skirt this. Pietro is staking his claim on Stark!reader. Maybe he's not making it blindingly obvious, but the fact remains. This one is loaded with this weird possessive / protective sexual tension. So, obvs, there are more parts to come to this.

Just curious, are there any other readerxcharacter stories I've done you guys want more parts to? Because I could do several, tbh...Tell me pls bc I am curious.

Pairing ; Pietro Maximoff x Stark!Fem reader.

Warnings ; heavy sexual tension, mentions of an injury (am operating on the theory that when Pietro lived through the incident in AoU, part of the recovery process is that he's lost some speed -not entirely, and he heals a little slower until he's up to full power again), a very intense confrontation between reader x Pietro. For now, that's all.

Timeline / Other Stuff ; we're going to go with the assumption here being that this is shortly after AoU but before all the other shit that unfolds. As before, reader/you are Tony Stark's daughter with a deceased woman and he's raised you since you were hours old. I am not sure how far I will go with this yet but.. There will be massive changes to the last movie (Tony will not be dying) if I go that far. Also, when Pietro uses his native tongue, I'm using Romanian for a basis.

Summary ; Two to three days later, you encounter Pietro in the gym. After a rather... intense confrontation (in the sexually tense sense) you get the sense that somehow, he's staking his claim.

Translations needed ; -- thanks Google translator.

draga mea - my darling , Felul în care te miști este hipnotic, draga mea - the way you move is so hypnotic   + — Nu mă pot opri să te privesc. - i can’t stop watching you.  — E doar o zgârietură, prințesă. - it’s just a scratch, princess. + — Mulțumesc, pisicuță. - thank you, kitten.

Tag List ; @beardedbarba is the only person on my actual MCU taglist. However, I extend a courtesy tag to @readingandwritingandreading because I feel like they'll enjoy this. Feel free to ignore, bb.

Other Stuff; tag list doc || rules - fandoms/some of the characters I write for || requests - open, currently accepting headcanon asks, filthy and fluffy alphabet letters for any fandoms/characters besides wrestling because I'm not writing for wrestling currently.

I do not consent to have my work reposted elsewhere. I also do not consent to having it reworded/copied/reworked and reposted here. You don't own this if you didn't post it. Reblogs -and comments or likes, are greatly appreciated though, as always. Just like.. don't steal my shit.

He spotted you the second you slunk in off the street with the Nike gym bag tossed over your shoulder. His eyes follow your body intently, fixed on and focused on the way your black leotard and the leopard print leggings fit you like a second skin. The oversized shirt you’ve got over the top of the leotard is somehow both loose and tight, tied at the bottom as one side of the garment seems to have given up in surrender and it’s hanging down below your shoulder.

If the spotter hadn’t grabbed the barbell in his hand, he’d have dropped it on his chest. You disappear into the dance studio and a few seconds later, some slow song by The Weeknd starts to play, filtering out the open door of the room you’re currently inside of.

Pietro rests the barbell against the supports made to hold it in place and he slips off the weight bench. In the blink of an eye, he’s leaned in the open door of the little dance studio and he’s watching you as you writhe, roll and leap around the room slowly. Gracefully. 

In comparison to his super speed, it’s the total opposite. He shifts the way he stands and takes a shaky breath as the way your body felt against his and under his hands felt two nights ago during your little wordless encounter resurfaces. 

This makes the speedster’s fists clench and flex at either side of his body and for lack of something else, something better to do with his hands, he folds his arms over his chest.

The song starts to fade out and your body comes to a stop, back against dark stained hardwood floorboards. Your arm raises and falls dramatically across your forehead and Pietro finds himself mesmerized by the hectic rise and fall of your chest, it’s damn near hypnotic, especially as your breathing starts to return to normal rhythm.

You pull yourself up from the floor and Pietro’s standing in front of you at the speed of light -quite literally. Your head tilts to one side and Pietro stares; hypnotized for a few seconds too long by the soft graceful curve of your neck. Fantasies of his mouth latching against your skin. His hands, all over your body.

You look light as a feather to him, he towers over you.

“Draga mea.” the words come out quiet. Husky and from way down in the depths of his chest and for a second or two, you’re mesmerized by ice blue eyes only to have your trance broken and your eyes drift down, settling on his mouth as his tongue dragged the outline of his lips, thick and wet.

You gulped. And despite any and all notions to stay where you were standing, you found yourself stepping just a little closer. And then a little more. Until no space remained and you could feel the firmness and the warmth of him pressed into you completely. 

“— Felul în care te miști este hipnotic, draga mea.” he mumbles quietly. Shifting the way he’s standing but it’s too little, too late. One of his rough hands catches against your hip as the words come rolling out in his mother tongue and you tilt your head to look up at him, brows knit together in confusion. But he doesn’t repeat what he’s just said, instead, he continues to speak, “— Nu mă pot opri să te privesc.”

Your tongue drags over the outline of your lips, slow. You try to pull yourself out of his eyes but you can’t and you have the passing thought that it’s almost like being lost in a stormy sea. Then you want to smack yourself in the back of the head because you’ve spent two days telling yourself that no matter how strong the pull you felt to him was that night, it won’t happen again.

Now here it is, happening again.

And he’s talking to you in that damned seductive velvety growl - a langauge that you can’t understand but whatever he’s saying is said in such a way that you’re dripping, soaked almost uncomfortable with just two mere sentences, , distracting as hell in the tank top and track pants that hang just a little too loose and low on his hips.

His hand raises, busted knuckles graze against hair sticking to your forehead. The hair is brushed away and you lightly tap a sneaker against the wood floorboards as you try to process everything all at once. This feels like a game of cat and mouse. One that you won’t win.

You feel very much like prey under his calm blue sky gaze. And you’re not entirely sure how you feel about that fact. You pout a little, trying and failing to figure out what he could possibly be up to. Maybe he’d seen you lurking in the doorway of the gym down the hall, watching in awe as he hoisted heavy weight sets in the air as if they were feather light?

Maybe it’s payback, maybe it’s something else.

Either way, all you can do is stare. And the feeling you previously had about Pietro silently marking his territory is doubling by the second.

Your eyes catch on his knuckles and you grab hold of his hand before you can censor yourself, hissing quietly as you look at the healing damage. Your finger grazes over his knuckles and you shake your head. “If you’d stop fighting everybody that breathes.” you mumble, mostly to yourself and only half joking.

The chuckle that comes at your words is deep. His chest rumbles with it. You tilt your head to look up at him. “Did you even bother cleaning these out? Hm?”

Pietro shrugs. 

“— E doar o zgârietură, prințesă.” he finally mumbles. You can feel your cheeks burn a little and you can feel ocean colored eyes as they burn into you intently. You finally manage to make yourself look up at him to find him staring at you. “C’mon.” you’re grabbing his hand, guiding him over to a long bench that lines one wall of the studio. Once you have him sitting down, you place his hand in your lap and he watches as you dig around in your gym bag for the bare bones you call a first aid kit that you usually keep on your person. You find an alcohol pad and you grab hold of his hand to pull it back into your lap and he hisses as the alcohol stings the wounds just a little, trying to wrench his hand away. 

You gaze up at him patiently. Giving him another pout. “Can you just be still?”

The quiet and slow drawl of your voice has him compliant before he even fully stops to think about it and normally, he’d be a stubborn ass with most other people.

But you’re not most other people. You’re the girl he can’t seem to get off his mind lately and while it’s become something of a problem, an irritant if you will, he’s starting to realize that it’s something that’s also not going away anytime soon.

Because he’s tried fucking everything but so far, nothing’s worked.

And he knows by this point that you’re off limits, Bucky sat him down when he caught him staring at you after accompanying him to the gym earlier in the week. Before you showed up at the compound. Bucky told him in the firmest and most direct way possible that your father would never allow it.

And Pietro doesn’t want to allow it either. What he’ll be doing with the team is going to be dangerous at times. And it’s bad enough that his sister followed him straight into danger once already. The last thing he wants is you being put in harms way.

But he can’t fucking stay away. He can’t get you out of his head and it’s been this way for a while now.

He’s dangerously close to caving, just saying to hell with consequence because he just wants you so much. All to himself. In any way you’ll allow him to have you.

It’s the most he’s wanted anything in his entire life… Except for the period of time when he was hell-bent on revenge for his parents death and the destruction of his life.

You’re humming to yourself as you work the alcohol soaked pad over his knuckles and all he can do is stare at you. You can feel him watching you and when you finish, you look up. “That’ll do.” you mumble as you find yourself drowning in blue sky depths. You manage to tear your eyes off him and you turn to rifle through your bag again, this time producing just enough gauze to wrap the hand. You grab hold of his hand again and he tries to hold it away at first but you give him this little pout.

The pout and the way you tilt your head is going to be his ruin, he just knows it. Wordlessly, with a little scowl, he deposits his hand onto your lap again. Resting his palm flat against your thigh. Your breath catches in your throat for a second and when you finally breathe again, it comes out all shaky.

You wrap the gauze around his knuckles carefully and then you place his hand back into his own lap as you stand.

You’re halfway to the door of the studio when he presses against you from behind.

“— Mulțumesc, pisicuță.” he mumbles in that same velvet gravel husk. You turn to face him and this puts you body to body with him. You shrug. Raise up on your toes to give puffed up platinum hair a little fluff.

“Hm?” you mumble quietly as you stare up at him.

“I said.. Thank you, kitten.” Pietro mutters quietly. When he leans into you a little more, you gulp. You know the smart thing to do is probably to back away but for some reason, there’s a disconnect between your brain and the smart thing to do. Your stomach does a lazy flip when he calls you kitten because there’s this look of sheer hunger in his eyes that you try to convince yourself you’re imagining.

Or you’re trying to do that until he steps closer, leaving no space between your bodies in the open doorway of the dance studio. A bandaged hand raises and catches against the side of your face gingerly sending a hot flush to race through your body. “Again tomorrow?” he questions, a little smirk playing at his lips.

“Y-yeah. I’ve gotta work on my piece for the fall solo with my dance troupe.” you shrug as you say it and you want to kick yourself because somehow, the platinum blond towering over you right now has managed to make you a wet and stammering, rambling mess and he’s barely said or done anything to you in the first place.

He eyes you intently. Like he wants to say something but then just doesn’t. You bite your lip and shuffle your feet against the floor of the studio. “Can you stop fighting everybody who breathes? Please?” you ask the question quietly. With the gentlest teasing laugh. But you’re being serious.

“Perhaps.” he shrugs casually. The way muscles flex with the movement catches your eye and you swallow hard and try not to be hypnotized by the movement. “Maybe if they will stop saying disgusting things.”

“Listen.. That trainee you keep locking horns with is just a perv, alright? I busted his nose at my dad’s New Years Eve thing because he tried to cop a feel.”

For a split second, blue sky eyes cloud over and if you’d been looking down you would’ve seen the exact second his fist clenched at the side of his body. But you didn’t, luckily. And you’re completely clueless as to the fuel you’ve just added to the fire.

You step away and drag a hand through sweat dampened hair. “I’ll uh.. I’ll see you around.” you mumble quietly.

Pietro chuckles, a lopsided grin playing at his mouth. “Tomorrow.”

And you nod as you hurry out of the gym and in your haste to just… get somewhere to breathe and attempt pulling yourself together again, you nearly walk into the damned men’s shower just up the hall.

“Fuck my life.” you palm at your forehead as you hurry and make your way out of the gym and into the crowded street.