on-my-vigilante-sht

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Forced Love V

John Wick x Reader

Summary: Arranged marriages aren't uncommon in the crime world but John Wick never expected to be forced into one with is boss' daughter.

Chapter Summary: John finishes what his brother-in-law started

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N, canon level violence (if it's in the movie it's here), medical stuff

Word Count: 3.7K

Masterlist

When John finally woke, he was tied up in some sort of abandoned building. Although, the scaffolding and lights indicated that maybe it was just under construction. Directly in front of him was an empty chair but flanking that was his wife, bound to another chair with tape covering he mouth. She let out a soft cry that sounded like his name upon seeing him wake. She was breathing heavily and her voice was raw. The tear tracks that stained her face did nothing to assure him that Viggo hadn’t hurt his own daughter.

“Well John,” Viggo’s voice cut through her soft sobs as he came into view. “They sure as fuck broke the mold with you,” he said, sitting down. Two guards followed him, but stopped next to Y/N’s chair. And John could see the two guards on either side of him through his peripheral vision. Viggo laughed as he continued. “You always had a certain… audacity about you, you know. I thought it’d make you a good husband to my daughter and I feared she had softened you too much when you asked to retire. But I can say you’re still very much the John Wick of old.”

“Am I?” he pressed daringly.

Viggo leaned forward as he spoke. “People don’t change. You know that. Times, they do.” He sighed before going to the thing burning in his chest. “Do you know what was in that vault? Artwork, cash, not without it’s worth. But the leverage I had over this city. Evidence, blackmail, audio, photos,” he listed. “It was fucking priceless!” he cursed, standing up in rage. “Priceless!”

“Yeah, I kind of enjoyed that,” John said softly.

Viggo let out a scathing laugh. “Yeah, I know you did.” His laugh became humorous as he got closer to John, sending a punch to his face.

Y/N let out a muffled scream in protest.

Viggo turned his scathing tongue on her now. “Shut up you brat!” he screamed. “I never should have paired you two up. You used to be so obedient, always so eager to please me. But then you two got married,” he said in disgust. “And you corrupted each other.” He turned back to John. “And then you got out by lying to yourself. Telling yourself that the past held no sway over the future. But in the end, a lot of us are rewarded for our misdeeds, which is why I’m going to take your wife.” John lunged at Viggo but his restraints and the guards held fast. “Because you decided to… unleash yourself upon me. I gifted her to you, I have every right to take her back. Fuck, I should’ve taken her back when you asked for retirement but I let you keep her. As a gesture. But then you decided to take it upon yourself to meddle in family matters.” He paused, letting his words hang in the air and echo in John’s brain. “This life follows you. It clings to you, infecting everyone close to you. We are cursed, you and I.”

“On that, we agree,” John said, cursing himself for falling in love.

Viggo sat back, shock written on his face. “Finally, common ground,” he chuckled.

“I have my grievances with you,” John began, “but my real focus is your son. Step aside and give him to me.”

“John Wick,” Viggo mused in disbelief. “Baba Yaga,” he mocked the name he was once so proud to threaten with. He stood up, signaling to his men to get ready to leave. “It was just a spat between siblings.”

“Your son tried to kill my wife!” he yelled. “When we got married you made me promise to protect her. I am because you failed! You led her unstable brother to believe that you would choose her over him and then she almost died for your mistake! And then you protected your son over her. I was just doing what you fucking asked. People keep asking if I’m back. And up until now I haven’t really had an answer. But now? Yeah, I’m thinking I’m back! So you can either hand over your son,” Viggo muttered an order in Russian before turning to leave, “…or you can die screaming alongside him!” John screamed as he stood. The guards grabbed him once again, back into his chair as he watched his wife being carried out behind her traitor father. He continued struggling as they wrapped a bag around his face, trying to suffocate him.

Just as the black started to close in on his vision, he heard the sound of a bullet whizzing. The man to his right went down, blood spattering onto the bag covering his face. The other guard immediately let go, drawing his weapon to find the threat. Marcus. But John didn’t have time to consider his old friend. He wasted no time pulling out of the chair, hands still bound and bag still on his head, body slamming the other man to the ground with so much rage, he managed to make him drop his gun. Baba Yaga pulled his zip-tied hands to the front of his body, tearing off the bag before running at the scrambling mercenary with a yell. Using his bound hands, he got the gun away from him. They began to struggle, John just needed to get his bound arms around the man’s neck. But he had the same idea and two autonomous hands allowing him to pin John to the ground easier, strangling him as he struggled to break from the man’s grasp. He managed to turn his head enough so the man’s thumb was in his mouth, biting down hard. It made the guard loose focus enough that John was able to regain the advantage. He got his zip-tied hands around the mans throat, pulling with all his might until he choked the guard out and was then able to snap his neck. Without even taking a second to catch his breath, John was using a knife from another guard to cut the zip-ties. Pocketing the knife, he ran towards the exit, hoping to catch Viggo before he left. He’d be damned if he let his wife be taken from him right under his nose like that.

On the way out, he spotted a high caliber rifle that was like shooting a mini bazooka. Grabbing it, he burst out the door just in time to see the SUV taking off. Seeing as his gunfire wouldn’t do much good from the rear, he found a route through the alleys that would let him cut them off. He ran through alleyways until he finally reached the main street. He stood in the middle of the street, taking aim at the speeding car. The fact that he couldn’t see his wife in the car gave him a little bit of peace as bullets pelted the SUV, making the driver swerve into a parked car, halting the vehicle.

John immediately had the gun pointed at Viggo. “Cool it, cool it, cool it,” he begged, his hands raised.

“Where is she?” he demanded, shooting a warning shot to the side.

“She’s in the car!” Viggo answered quickly. He reached back, only to open the door. The door flung open on account of the tilted vehicle and the fact that a person had been flung into it. Viggo’s daughter was spilled out onto the ground in a less than graceful manner on account of her bound arms and legs.

“Where’s Iosef?” John demanded next, seeing no bleeding from his wife.

“I have your word that if I tell you where he is, you’ll let me walk away?” he bargained.

“Pull the contract,” John demanded.

“Done,” Viggo agreed, seeing as he had no allies around him. “He’s kept in a safe house in Brooklyn,” Viggo answered. “434 Wallace Place. They know you’re coming.”

“Of course,” John stated, finally lowering his gun. “But it won’t matter.” He rounded Viggo, not caring where he ran off to.

He kneeled down next to his wife, pulling out the knife to cut her own zip-ties before carefully pulling off the tape on her mouth. She let out a hollow sob as she reached up to grab him, arms wrapped around his neck. He wrapped his free arm around her torso, pulling her into him and burring his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder. They savored the moment as long as they could until John had to let go. He couldn’t let Viggo warn Iosef and give him the opportunity to move. “Hey,” he began softly. “I’m gonna need you to take a cab to the Continental. Don’t talk to anyone, just head up to the room and wait for me there. I have to go deal with your brother. Then we can go home,” he promised her.

She nodded in understanding, too shaken up to really form word. He helped her stand, pressing some money into her hand for the cab. Before he could take off, she pressed a quick kiss to his lips. As she moved to break it, he followed, letting the kiss linger for another moment. “I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too,” he said before taking off towards Brooklyn.

~

Once again, Y/N found herself pacing the hotel room she had come to loathe. Although she had to commend the cleaners. You would never be able to tell that two high trained assassins had just had a fight in here the night prior. It was only when her husband opened the door that she really breathed for the first time since the attack. It was finally over. They could finally go home and put this behind them so they could continue to live the lives they had built for themselves.

John said nothing, just pulled his wife into his chest and held her tight. “It’s over,” he promised her.

“I love you so much,” she professed in response, pressing soft kisses to the side of his face. He sighed in content, having missed soft moments like this ever since their world had shattered.

“I love you too. C’mon, lets go home.”

They had never packed their bags so quickly, eager to get out of the city. Once they reached the lobby, they went to the front desk to check out. “Thank you,” John said, as he slid the key across the desk.

“Our pleasure, sir,” Charon thanked, placing a set of keys on the desk. John stared at them quizzically. “A parting gift. From management,” he explained. “Compensation for last night’s unfortunate… incident.”

John thanked the man as he took the keys. The pair stepped outside, finding a brand new Dodge Charger sitting out front. John gave the slightest smile upon seeing the new car. He turned to his wife, seeing a small smile creep onto her face as well. They stepped down towards the car, John opening the passenger door for her before rounding the car to the driver’s side. He got in, taking in the car before putting it in drive. Before taking off though, he snaked his hand over to the passenger side, grasping his wife’s hand. “We just have one stop to make before we go home.”

The pair stood looking over the water, right next to the Manhattan bridge. “So what are we waiting for?”

“That would be me,” Marcus’ voice answered her. “Hi Y/N, I don’t think we’ve formally met,” the man smiled, extending her hand. She took it, shaking it as she sent a glance to her husband. *Who was this man? “*I’m the one whose been saving your husband’s ass.”

“I appreciate it,” John chuckled.

“Of course,” Marcus dismissed. “You look terrible,” he remarked, earning a laugh from Y/N.

John sent a teasing glance to his wife. “No, I look retired,” he corrected.

“Retired? You really believe that?” John didn’t answer. “You made a new life. You’ll find your way back to it. It’s time to go home,” he said, slightly ominously. “It was nice to finally meet you,” he bid, looking at his friend’s wife.

“Likewise,” she returned as he walked away. She turned back towards the river, the same as her husband. “You ready?” she asked, extending her hand.

“Yeah,” he agreed, taking it.

~

They were enjoying a peaceful drive home in the new car when John got a call. With a quick check to caller ID, he found Marcus’ name. “This is John,” he answered.

The way John immediately stiffened as Viggo’s voice came over the phone didn’t escape his wife’s notice. She had no idea what was said, but based on her husband’s body language, she could guess who was on the other end. “I appreciate you granting my son a swift death.”

“It was more than he deserved,” John replied, remembering how Iosef had tried to just beat a woman to death.

“And yet you granted him mercy. Unlike what I’m going to do to Marcus. He betrayed me.”

John immediately threw down the phone, spinning the car around so fast it almost went into a tailspin. “John what the fuck!”

“Viggo has Marcus,” he explained, pressing the car to it’s top speed as he raced back into the city. “He couldn’t kill me and he couldn’t kill you. So he’s killing Marcus.”

Her heart sunk, “Oh god,” she whispered. She knew her father did terrible things but she hadn’t really considered them when she wasn’t on the receiving end. John continued speeding through the city as she came to terms with how complicit she had been with others suffering.

When they finally pulled up to her father’s brownstone, John was immediately climbing out of the car. “Stay here,” he said gruffly. She didn’t say anything as she watched her husband go in to grieve the closest thing he had to a best friend. After a few moments John was running back to the car. Before she could assume the worst, he was hopping in and taking off. “Your father is fleeing New York,” he explained. “He practically left you to die and now he’s killed Marcus. He’s not leaving,” he swore.

Not a word was said as they raced towards the only property that Viggo owned that housed a helipad. An old loading dock that had been long forgotten. As they closed in on the two SUVs driving in the same direction, John pressed the car further. “Hold on!” he warned as he started side swiping the SUV until it fell down into one of the pits that used to be used to load shipping containers.

John didn’t even celebrate his victory or stop to consider that Viggo may have been in that car. He just kept driving, going after the remaining SUV. There was no shot he’d let Viggo have any chance of getting away. He kept knocking into the side of the SUV until he pulled back enough to send it into a tailspin, straight into a bollard. The SUV stopped suddenly but John was able to brake before backing up. “Get down!” he yelled, forcing his wife’s head down as he saw Viggo’s men get out of the SUV with guns.

They shot at the Charger, shattering the back windshield but that didn’t dissuade The Boogeyman in the slightest. He continued backing up until he hit the gunman who went rolling over the car. As he went, John shot up into the ceiling, sending bullets into the man as he rolled off the car. John then shot three more men out of the window, in the process leaning over to his wife’s seat to recline it all the way back. “Lay down flat,” he told her. Given that he was the world’s deadliest assassin, she didn’t question his judgement in that moment.

As Avi fell out of the car and went running, John chased after him, cutting him off. They exchanged a few bullets before John slammed the passenger side of the car into him. It hit him with so much force he broke the window, eliciting a scared shout from the woman laying in the passenger seat, but he quickly slumped to the ground. But before John could finish him off, an incredible force came from his side.

Viggo drove his SUV straight into the Charger, not caring about his daughter or right hand man. He continued driving, gas pedal pressed to the ground as he pushed the car towards the pit. Realizing what was happening, Y/N spoke up. “Out the back windshield! Out the back windshield!” she cried as she crawled backwards. Fortunately John knew what she meant because he also released his seat, crawling out with her and hitting the ground before the car went over the edge.

“Are you okay?” he asked his wife as the rain poured down on them.

“Yeah,” she choked out, the fall knocking the wind out of her. “He’s over there,” she coughed, spying her father heading towards the helicopter. “Go. I’m fine.” She too wanted revenge for all the bullshit he put her husband through.

John took off running towards his father-in-law as she stayed to catch her breath. Climbing into the mostly intact SUV, she clambered around for a gun. She searched frustratedly. There was no way there weren’t at least twenty hidden weapons in a mob boss’ car. She rejoiced as she found one taped under the passenger seat, climbing out of the car just in time to see both John and her father take a seat. Both of them exhausted and heavily injured. She could see them talking but she didn’t give a fuck whatever deal they were making. Her father had only done one good thing for her and that was arrange her marriage to John. And he still tried to use that gift against her until he couldn’t and he decided to kill him. So she took aim, steadying herself before pulling the trigger. Headshot. And this time, she didn’t feel bad about it.

“John!” she called, running over to him. She was terrified he’d succumb to his wounds right there. She stopped running for a brief moment when he stood, so relieved to see him up. She continued sprinting towards him, meeting him gently. She didn’t want to hurt him more but he grasped her wrist, pulling her into him. “You’re okay,” she assured him. “We’re gonna be okay. C’mon,” she said, throwing his arm around his shoulder in order to help him back to the car. Based on the amount of weight he placed on her, he really needed it. She helped him into the passenger side of the beat up SUV. Fortunately the passenger side door was still intact. “We’re going to the hospital,” she told him, getting into the driver’s seat.

“No,” he immediately protested.

“John! You’re hurt.”

“There’s a veterinary hospital just a few blocks south. No one is there at night. We can use their medical supplies.”

“John…” she protested reluctantly, terrified for her husband but heading south anyways.

“I used to go there if I got injured before I retired. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about,” he tried to reassure.

“Okay,” she agreed reluctantly.

She followed John’s directions until they reached what looked like an abandoned building. The only indication that it was even somewhat in use was the sound of all the dogs barking. John broke through the back door’s window, reaching down to open the door, letting himself in. They went in and Y/N was immediately pushing John to lean against the stainless steel table in the middle of the room. “What do you need?” she asked, going to the medical supplies.

“Gauze, suture kit or staple gun, and something to clean the wound,” he answered, already crouching in from of a pitbull’s cage.

She grabbed everything he needed, going over to him. “Lean back,” she directed him. She kneeled on the ground next to him as she worked as fast as possible. “I still think you should go to the hospital,” she said disapprovingly.

“I’d been through worse before I met you,” he confessed.

“I don’t know how it gets worse than this,” she said, stitching up every major wound she found.

“This dog is gonna be euthanized,” he said, reading the file on the dogs cage. His wife paused only long enough to look at the dog. He pawed at the cage upon meeting her gaze, his big eyes immediately melting her heart.

“We can take him with us when we’re done. But you have to promise me you’ll let me call the doctor to check you out as soon as we’re home.”

“I will,” he swore.

“Was this all an elaborate scheme to make me let you get a dog?” she pressed, only mildly jokingly.

“That was part of it,” John returned the joke.

A small smile crept onto her face as she paused her work once again to look at her husband. “I love you. So much. Please don’t do anything dangerous ever again.”

“I’ll try,” he smiled. “I love you too. I can’t move so you’re gonna have to come here.” She giggled slightly, scooching over to him. Once she got close enough, John grabbed her shirt, bringing her down to meet his lips as he gave her a sweet kiss. Just like on their wedding day except now they weren’t strangers. They had been through more together than they had thought a couple could go through. “I love you,” he repeated, only parting their lips enough to say that.

Masterlist

#john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #john wick x you #john wick #keanuverse #keanu reeves #x reader #forced marriage #arranged marriage #marriage #au #mob

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Forced Love IV

John Wick x Reader

Summary: Arranged marriages aren't uncommon in the crime world but John Wick never expected to be forced into one with is boss' daughter.

Chapter Summary: John returns to his old life just to finish some business

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N, canon level violence (if it's in the movie it's here), medical stuff

Word Count: 5.7K

Masterlist

As the taxi pulled up to John’s home he didn’t suspect that anything was amiss. But as soon as he stepped out onto the gravel driveway, he noticed some haphazard tire marks but he brushed those off as just being from a careless delivery driver. As he went up to the door his alarm bells started going off and started to revert back to assassin mode. The door was left slightly ajar but most horrifyingly was the blood left on the door handle. Without a critical thought, he immediately began to shout his wife’s name, not considering his own safety or the fact that his yelling could give away his position. He just needed his wife right that second.

He opened the door, immediately seeing the crumpled body of his wife lying in the living room with a knife sticking out of her chest. He was immediately running over to her to check her pulse. She had to be alive. No deity would be so cruel to give him something so wonderful only to take it away after just seven years, right? Despite the fear and pain icing his veins, he felt the most relief he had ever felt when he found his wife’s pulse still going. It was weak and erratic but still there. He was immediately pulling out his phone to dial 911 while keeping his fingers on her pulse, making sure it didn’t disappear.

“911 what’s your emergency?” the operator’s voice answered.

“My wife was stabbed, she’s still breathing but it’s bad,” he called into the phone, forgetting all his formal training.

“Okay sir, the ambulance is on the way. What’s the address?”

John gave the operator his information, the entire time trading between gently slapping his wife’s face trying to get her to wake up and making sure she was still breathing. And after only a few minutes, paramedics were bursting through the door. He nearly killed one for pushing him out of the way but he kept himself in check, remembering that they were saving his wife’s life. It was also at that moment that he realized he had been crying.

Seeing as John wasn’t about to let his wife out of his sight and he was in no shape to drive, the paramedics let him ride in the ambulance. He held her hand the entire way to the hospital, only letting her go from his sight when they arrived at the hospital and doctors immediately began surrounding her, bringing her to surgery immediately.

John sat in the waiting room for hours with no updates. He went through a range of feeling absolutely nothing, to fear, to regret, to guilt, to sadness, to absolute blinding rage. It was only after being numb for an entire hour that he decided to call his father-in-law. He figured that even if they weren’t in contact, Viggo would still want to know about this.

“John, I didn’t think I’d be hearing from you at all,” Viggo answered.

John didn’t even bother with pleasantries. He was too devastated and exhausted. “Viggo, there’s something you should know. I uh- came home today to find Y/N…” these were the hardest words he ever had to say, “lying in a pool of her own blood with a knife in her chest. She was still breathing and she’s in surgery. She’s been in for a couple hours but no one’s given me an update which I guess is a good thing,” he rambled.

Meanwhile, Viggo was still trying to process his son-in-law’s words. “She was in her own blood? How much?”

“I don’t know. She was also covered in bruises.”

Viggo sighed, the weight of the world weighing on his chest. “I know you’re retired and trying to stay separated from this life but give me an update as soon as you can.”

“Will do. Bye,” John bid before hanging up. Viggo put the phone down, rubbing his face exasperatedly. Sure, his daughter had been essentially dead to him because her husband wanted out but he held no ill will towards them. He never thought this would happen to her though. Not in the crime world and certainly not in her newfound retired lifestyle.

“What was that about?” Iosef asked, having expected to get a call about his sister’s death.

“It seems your sister was attacked,” Viggo answered his son. “She’s alive. She’s in the hospital but-”

“She’s alive?!” Iosef cried in shock. He had stabbed her in the chest and basically broken every bone in her body, how was she alive?

Viggo’s face immediately darkened. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” the boy immediately shrugged off.

“What did you do?!” he demanded again, now standing up. When his son didn’t say anything, just looked like a guilty dog, the mob boss began pacing around angrily. “You idiot. Why would you do that to your sister?”

“Because you were going to pass my birthright onto her!” Iosef defended like a child. “You always gave her stuff to do and me nothing.”

“She is retired!” Viggo cried, wondering how his heir ended up so stupid. “She was never going to take over. I only gave her responsibilities so you’d get your shit together. Now look what you’ve done!”

“What? She’s in the hospital? She’ll recover and learn to stay away.”

“And once she’s recovered she’ll tell her husband—the man they call Baba Yaga—who did this to her. You remember when she was stabbed right? The men behind it took three hours to die. The man who ordered it was made to dig his own eye out.” As Viggo told the stories of The Boogeyman, he stepped towards his son with every word. Iosef continued to back up until he couldn’t anymore as he realized just how deep of shit he was in. “Get out of my sight while I deal with your mistake,” he spat. His son needed no more encouragement as he left the room with his tail between his legs.

Viggo sat down, taking a deep breath before calling Avi in. Once his right hand man was in his office, he got to the point. “Iosef tried to kill my daughter but he couldn’t even finish the job,” he spat. Avi didn’t even have the chance to process his boss’ words because he was already barking orders. “Send twelve of your men to Wick’s house. Once he’s there, eliminate him. Otherwise he’ll drag my son through an even slower death than Alexi Petrov.”

Avi couldn’t believe the words he was about to say. “And your daughter? Should we eliminate her too?”

Viggo thought for a moment. She had been no use to him ever since she retired. Technically, she wasn’t a threat. The only real threat was her husband but he knew John had taught her a thing or two and she always had a slight rebellious streak. “If you must, you better pray you kill her husband first.”

~~

The entire two weeks Y/N had spent recovering at the hospital, John had been there too. The second doctors had wheeled her out of surgery, John quite literally never left her side. The doctors explained that she had had extensive internal bleeding due to crush wounds from blunt force trauma. And that while the stab looked bad, it was no more than a flesh wound because her sternum had kept the knife from doing any real damage.

As for when she woke up, one of the first things John asked her was who did it. And when she responded with her brother’s name, all John could see was red. He wanted to scream a million curses and go rip the idiot’s head off but he kept his cool enough to listen to his wife’s reasoning. And just like him, all she wanted was to be near her spouse.

After two weeks she was released and, miraculously, had mostly healed. She had just had to deal with some residual bruising and a lot of soreness but otherwise was fine. Her brother’s paid friends had managed to crack a few ribs but nothing extensive enough to keep her immobilized for the two weeks. Despite the good news, John was still treating her like she was porcelain. He insisted on helping her in even the smallest tasks. For the first week he wouldn’t even let her feed herself.

“I’ve got you,” he assured, his arm around her waist and her arm pulled over his shoulder.

“I’ve got it,” she insisted, standing up with ease. It was painful but she could do it without assistance.

John backed off, looking at her with guilty eyes. He hadn’t been there for her the day she was attacked so he needed her to know that he’d always be there for her for the rest of time. That he’d always take care of her.

The mood was somber as they drove back to the house. Y/N just stared out the window, watching their once completely safe town pass by. She had thought this was her heaven but her brother tainted that with his paranoia. But she kept those feelings under wraps. She knew it would break John’s heart even more if she voiced her newfound discomfort with this town because he was the one to find it. He thought this would be a safe home for them.

Once he pulled into the garage, he was helping her up into the house. “You want anything? Water? A snack? I can go get food if you want?” he offered, desperate for a way to make this better.

“I’m fine,” she assured. “I’m just gonna lay down.”

“Okay, I’ll be up soon,” he assured. He watched her worriedly as she climbed the stairs. She leaned heavily on the railing but otherwise seemed to be doing okay. He couldn’t believe she survived such a savage beating and was half dead just two weeks ago. The bruises that encompassed her entire body were a sick reminder of that.

Heading down to the basement, he found a sledgehammer. Going over to the slab of concrete that was different from the rest, he brought the sledgehammer down hard. It immediately cracked the concrete, prompting John to take another swing and another until he finally found the cases he was looking for. He hauled them out of the dust covered hole, through the cracked concrete. He opened the first case, finding part of his arsenal and most of his gold. Hi wife had begged him not to retaliate in the hospital but he couldn’t just let this go. Her own brother tried to kill her over a misunderstanding and if Viggo had a single functioning brain cell left, he’d hand his son over.

As he continued going through his things, the phone began to ring. He knew who this was, the only people who had the basement landline’s number were people of his former life and no one would be calling except for his father-in-law. He picked up the phone, not saying a word. “Hello, John,” Viggo’s voice came over the line. “I assume Y/N has told you about her attacker.” John didn’t say anything. The next words out of his mouth better be that Iosef was tied up, waiting for a bullet in his skull. And the fact that he hadn’t called for two weeks didn’t escape his notice either. “John?” the Russian mob boss’ voice called over the phone again upon not hearing a response other than breathing. “Let us not resort to our baser instincts and handle this like civilized men, to move on-” His words halted as John hung up the phone.

He grabbed two pistols and extra magazines as he went upstairs. Based on the phone call, Viggo was prioritizing his son over his daughter and that meant eliminating any threat to Iosef. He went to his room where he found his wife sleeping, the soft noise of his footsteps not waking her. He left one of the guns on the nightstand next to her just in case she needed to use it. Going into the bathroom, he took a shower to wash the sweat and concrete dust off of himself before getting dressed. As he was tying his tie, he saw movement surrounding the house. His in-laws were here. With one last look his wife, still sleeping peacefully in bed, he grabbed his own gun and the key he had kept locked in the basement.

As he stepped out of the bedroom, he could hear them making their way into the house. But first, he turned, locking the door to the bedroom before tucking it in his jacket, right above his heart. They’d have to kill him if they were going to hurt her and he had survived much worse than this.

It was the first shots heard right outside her bedroom door that began to stir Y/N from her sleep. Her exhausted brain managed to ignore them for a moment before she heard the loud thud of bodies hitting the floor. Her brain finally put the pieces together as she realized someone was in her house again. She immediately turned towards her husband’s side of the bed, finding nothing. It looked like hadn’t even gotten into bed. She heard more shots and more bodies falling. How many people could possibly be here? But all she knew is that as long as she continued to hear shots, John was still alive.

She crept towards the door in only her nightie, intent to somehow help her husband. She could just stay out of the way and if she needed to, she could help. There were clearly multiple intruders, eventually they were going to gang up on him. But upon reaching the door, she found it locked or jammed or something. She struggled with the door for a few seconds, trying to force it open before realizing there was definitely a better way to go about this. As she was looking for something heavy to break the handle off with, she found the gun John had left her. Grabbing it, she went over to the door, beating the handle with the butt of the gun but it did nothing. With a grunt of frustration, she took a chance, shooting the handle. The bullet lodged itself in between the door jam and the locking mechanism, surprisingly weakening it enough so she could break it open.

Once she finally got the door open, she was immediately greeted with two bodies on the stair landing just outside her door and another on the stairs. She carefully crept past them, rushing towards the front of the house where she could hear struggling. Her path there was littered with other bodies but she paid them no mind, hurrying towards the entranceway. There, she found a masked man on top of her husband, trying to send a knife into his throat. She did the only thing she could think of, lifting the gun she shot hurriedly. She was by no means a trained gunman so the shot went into his shoulder rather than his head but it was enough of a hinderance to the masked man that John was able to easily flip him onto his back before sending about five bullets into his head.

“John,” she cried as the gunfire stopped. She didn’t even realize she was crying until she felt a tear drip from her cheek onto her chest.

“Y/N, oh my god,” he returned in an almost broken voice. He was immediately scrambling up, pulling her into his arms. He pressed her body into his, cradling her head against his chest. “Did they get into the room?” he asked.

“No but I heard the gunshots.”

“You should have stayed there,” he reprimanded lightly.

“I know but I wasn’t about to let you get hurt.” John sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, just embracing her for the moment. “Were these my father’s men?” she asked.

“Yes,” John answered reluctantly. How do you take learning that your father chose his other child over you? He couldn’t imagine what his wife was feeling right then. “But no one’s gonna hurt you. I swear.”

“But what about you?” she asked, pulling out of his tight grasp to look at him. “My father didn’t send twelve men to kill me. He sent them to kill you.”

John’s jaw clenched. “Go upstairs and start packing. We’re going to the Continental. You’ll be safe there.”

~

By the time they arrived at the Continental hotel in the heart of New York City it was morning. As the pair pulled up to the hotel, the valet held open the door for her. She thanked him as John rounded the car, carrying both their bags in one hand. He handed the keys off to the valet before taking his wife’s hand, walking into the hotel like a celebrity. As they walked through the entranceway up to the desk, the people idly chatting in the lobby quieted down, looking at the pair. Both of their beat up appearances didn’t escape anyone’s notice but one rumor would start circulating soon. The Wicks were back.

As they approached the desk, the found a woman being checked in by the doorman. They both recognized her from their lives before they retired, both of them having crossed paths with her as individuals. “Good seeing you again,” she greeted the pair like they were casual work acquaintances.

“Perkins,” John replied, nodding in acknowledgement before stepping up to the desk.

“I have you for two nights,” Charon greeted.

“Depending on business, it may be more,” John replied. Beside him, his wife shifted uncomfortably. Two nights of hell, maybe more. John was on the warpath now and nothing she could say could ever stop him.

“Of course, sir.” John then pulled a gold coin out of his pocket before sliding it across the counter to Charon. In return, he passed them a room key. “Room 818.”

“Thank you,” she smiled before grabbing one of the bags before John could take it.

Later that night, after they had eaten and Y/N had attended to her husband’s wounds, John came out of the bathroom, having changed into a new suit. “Stay here,” he told his wife. “I have some people I need to talk to.” But before he could walk out, she caught his hand.

“Hey,” she began, stopping him. “Just, be careful. I know you made my father what he is but he’s still powerful and you’re still human. Just remember your promise to always come back to me,” she made him swear.

“I will,” he swore. “I love you,” he said, pulling her in for a kiss.

“I love you too,” she returned once he had pulled away. As he headed out the door, she watched him go reluctantly.

After a few stressful hours trading between pacing, checking her phone, and trying to watch tv, the door to the room finally opened. “Oh my god,” she gasped, watching the way he limped and held his stomach.

Assuming she was talking about the blood, he was quick to assure her. “Don’t worry it’s not all mine.”

“John… I-” she was at a loss for words of how to deal with her seemingly suicidal husband. “What are the injuries?” she asked as he sat down on one of the chairs.

“Bullet wounds to the vest,” he emphasized the vest part, “so probably some bruising. And a stab in the lower stomach.”

She sighed, checking the stab wound first. “That’s the same place as mine. We should make sure none of your organs were ruptured,” she said, already grabbing the hotel phone. She ignored John’s protests as Charon answered. “Hi, could you send the doctor up to room 818? Thank you.”

“Why would you do that?” John asked. “I’m fine, I don’t need a doctor.”

“Because John fucking Wick is not dying from a fucking kidney infection. And if you’re so intent on revenge you’re getting some pain meds,” she reprimanded.

John looked like he wanted to argue but he suddenly deflated. “Thank you,” he said. “You’re the best wife I could ask for.”

“Yeah well, who else would shoot up The Red Circle for me?” she joked. A knock on the door prompted her to go up to the door, letting the doctor in. “Hi,” she greeted, “he’s at the table.”

The doctor thanked her before going over to the table. “Hello Mr. Wick, nice to see you again,” he greeted. “What can I do for you?”

“You too,” John returned, looking reluctant to exchange the same pleasantries with yet another person. “Just a stab. My wife wanted to make sure it didn’t puncture anything important.”

“Smart woman,” he remarked. The doctor got right to work, inspecting the wound. “Well, good news is it’s just a flesh wound, it didn’t cause any internal damage or bleeding. I’m just gonna have to stich it up.”

“So what sort of movement am I looking at?” John asked the doctor as he worked. His wife’s disapproving look didn’t escape his notice though.

“Well, if you’re looking to heal, then keep it marginal,” he warned sternly. “However, if you still have business to attend to take two of these beforehand,” he advised, handing John a bottle of pills.

“Thank you,” he said, the smallest hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

The doctor only nodded. “The stiches will tear and you’ll bleed. But you’ll still have full function. Do you need anything for the pain?” he asked, getting up.

“No I’m fine,” he assured despite his wife’s worried looks.

“Thanks, doc,” she wished as the man left. Once he was gone, she moved from her place on the bed over to the seat in front of John. “Please, I’m begging you to stop,” she pleaded. “You’ve killed like 40 of my father’s men, is that not enough for you?”

“Y/N, your brother tried to murder you and then your father took his side. How can you be okay just letting them walk free?”

“Because the man I love is avenging me alone,” she said in a strangled voice. “My family has an army protecting them. Forgive me if I have some fear that this will end with you in the back of Charlie’s van and I’ll be left with what? A dead husband and a family that tried to kill me. Can we please just cut our losses and disappear?”

The assassin clenched his jaw. She had a point but he couldn’t just let the people who hurt the only person he cared about go free. It wasn’t right. Besides… “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because your father put a hit out on me. Two million dollars.”

Her heart sunk. “What?” She couldn’t convey the level of hurt or betrayal she felt. Her own father put a hit out on her husband?

John watched her process the information. She was just now starting to understand how he felt. How neither could just let the person that threatened their spouse go. He continued to watch her very rapidly go through his own process of watching his wife practically die in that hospital bed and now, she was getting angry and set of vengeance. “Okay…” she said softly, giving in. “What’s the plan?”

“Right now, we’re going to sleep because this is the only place we’re safe.”

“Right… no business on Continental grounds,” she mused.

“C’mon,” he urged her, standing up only to lay back on the bed. She followed, laying on his uninjured side so she could rest her head on his chest. “You know I’m always gonna protect you, right?” he said into her hair.

“I know. Just wish I could protect you more,” she mused.

“You do,” John assured her. “I don’t know where I’d be if not for you but I can’t imagine anyplace good. And if I die-”

“John!” she cut him off, not wanting to even entertain the thought.

“Just listen, this is important. If I die, come here. Marcus will find you and take care of you,” he promised. She didn’t respond, unsure of what to say. She just cuddled into her husband more, holding him impossibly tighter.

They must have dozed off because suddenly there was a small explosion next to John’s ear. Recognizing the noise as a missed bullet, he immediately rolled over, covering his wife’s body with his. “Wha-” he heard her voice come from underneath him when he heard the glass room divider above the bed shatter, raining glass down on them.

He threw his body off the bed, dragging his wife down with him. The bullets continued flying, shattering the windows at the end of the bed as John practically pushed his wife under the bed. “Stay there!” he ordered.

“Hey John,” a woman’s voice rang out. They both recognized it from their former lives and as the woman in the lobby.

“Perkins?” John called.

“Thought I’d let myself in,” she quipped as she tucked herself against a dividing wall to defend herself from any gunfire. As she rounded the corner to shoot at her target, he used his makeshift arms sling to force the gun out of her hand. He then forced it up to her neck, trying to strangle her with it. “I never knew Ms. Perkins to get out of bed for less than three.”

“Viggo’s giving me four to break hotel rules,” she answered as she broke out of his grip.

Y/N watched in horror as they continued to struggle through the room. She was trying to decide when coming out of her spot would be useful or just a hinderance. Two was better than one but she had absolutely no combat training beyond the basic self-defense John had taught her. If she came out from under the bed, that’d just remind Perkins of her presence and then John would have to worry about both himself and her.

As they tumbled out of sight and she was considering what she should do, the phone rang. Probably a noise complaint. Assassins were surprisingly civilized and expected a certain level of decorum. She crawled out from under the bed just about half-way in order to grab the receiver. “Hello?” she answered.

“I apologize for calling you at this hour,” Charon’s voice came over the phone, “but we have received a number of grievances from your floor concerning the noise.”

“Sorry, we’re uh-” the sound of the door crashing open caught her off guard. “John is dealing with an uninvited guest.”

“Are you in need of a dinner reservation, perhaps?”

She peaked around the dividing wall, finding John with Perkins in a headlock, gun pointed at her head. “Um… maybe. Either I or John will let you know.”

“Okay, have a good evening, Mrs. Wick,” he bid before the line went dead.

She scrambled out from under the bed towards the hallway at the same time as another guest. Except he had his gun pointed at the back of John’s head. Thinking quickly, she found a gun on the ground that must have fallen in the scuffle. She cocked it, pointing it at the back of the man’s head. “Drop it,” she ordered.

Hearing her words, John turned around, finding his wife pointing a gun at an old friend. “Hey, Harry,” he greeted.

“Hi, John,” he returned. Upon seeing the friendly encounter, John’s wife lowered the gun. The man turned to face her. “You must be Mrs. Wick, Viggo’s daughter.” He turned back to John, “I thought you were supposed to be the guard dog.”

“She returns the favor sometimes,” John explained. “Hey, you keen on earning a coin? Babysitting the sleeping one?” he asked, gesturing to the unconscious woman.

“Catch and release?”

“Catch and release,” John confirmed.

They helped Harry get Perkins tied up in his room before they headed towards a lead John had gotten from Perkins.

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked.

“Little Russia,” John answered. “The church where your father keeps all his most important assets. I’m gonna lure him out.”

“Okay… what do you want me to do?” They pulled up to the rear side of the church, parking in a back alley a few buildings down. John didn’t answer for a few seconds, seemingly deep in thought. “Go up to that building’s roof,” he pointed at one right across the street from the church. “I’ll give you the sniper rifle. Once I start ambushing them, you can give me cover.” Her eyes widened at the responsibility he bestowed her. He never let her do anything when it came to his work. He tried to keep her from it as far as possible. Seeing her shock, he explained. “I realized that if I was going to make decisions that effect you, then you also have a right to act.”

She sent him a grateful smile. “Thank you, John,” she said, a hand reaching up to cup his cheek, her thumb stroking over his beard. “No let’s go burn my father’s empire to the ground.”

After thirty minutes of just sitting on the roof, John finally made his move. She watched him gun down a few of her father’s men before anyone could react. She responded by taking aim at one, firing. She missed but shook it off. She was mostly just there to create enough chaos so John could get Viggo alone. She took aim again at another one of her father’s guard. She smiled in success initially as she landed a bullet in his head. But the smile quickly dropped as she realized she had just killed a person. She had ended his life prematurely. What if he had a life outside of his work? What if there was someone waiting for him at home just like she waited for her husband. Hell, she very well could have known the man she killed. He could have been one of the men that had protected her in the past.

She only snapped out of her guilt-ridden haze when she heard a loud crash. Looking down, she found John sprawled on the ground, a few of her father’s men quickly subduing him. “John !” she cried. She had to get down there. Maybe her father would listen to her.

As she started collecting her things, a voice cut her off. “C’mere pretty girl,” the sick voice of one of her former bodyguards came. She scrambled to aim her weapon and managed to pull the trigger but she was too slow. The man had enough time to dodge it and as she tried to aim again, he got in close enough to knock her to the floor. He pushed the rifle away from her as he pinned her to the ground. “Hey, I got her,” she heard him call into a mic. “I’m gonna need backup. No way I’m gonna be able to get her down the fire escape by myself.”

She continued to struggle against him, but he simply rested his bodyweight on her, effectively trapping her. “Let go of me!” she demanded.

“Y’know, I much prefer you before you married Wick. You listened back then.”

“Yeah, well, he taught me a thing or two,” she spat back.

“Please, you’re just a spoiled brat who wants to piss of daddy,” he taunted. “Did you think you could actually just let your husband fight your battles for you and kill all the people who used to protect you without consequences?” He reached a hand out, squeezing her jaw. “This is just a temper tantrum and because of you, your husband will pay the ultimate price.”

“He’s gonna kill you,” she swore. “And if he doesn’t. I will.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

By now, his backup had arrived and she was having her hands and ankles tied up so she could be carried down the fire escape without much of a fuss. When they finally reached the cars, she made sure to send a harsh glare at the man that had put out a contract on her husband. He marched right up to her, sending a smack to her face. “I raised you better than this. Look what you caused,” he gestured to the tainted state of things around them.

“Your son you never bothered to raise caused this,” she spat. “And then you took his side over mine when he tried to kill me.” All of a sudden she was feeling all the hurt and betrayal she hadn’t been letting herself feel for John’s sake. She broke down right there in the parking lot before she heard a faint order from her father to just put her in the car. They laid her down in the rear seat as one of the men got in the driver’s seat and her father sat in the passenger seat. She had no idea where she was and all she wanted was John. Viggo attempted to speak to her a few times but she was crying so hysterically, full of so much pain she had been pushing down, that she couldn’t even hear him. As her world faded to black she put it together that she was in the midst of a panic attack.

Masterlist

#john wick x reader #john wick #keanuverse #keanu reeves #x reader #john wick x y/n #John Wick x you #arranged marriage #marriage #forced marriage #au #mob

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Forced Love III

John Wick x Reader

Summary: Arranged marriages aren't uncommon in the crime world but John Wick never expected to be forced into one with is boss' daughter.

Chapter Summary: After an attack on his wife, John decides he needs to retire. But retired life isn't as safe as he thought it was.

Warning: Minimal use of Y/N, canon level violence (this is where it starts to get actually violent), sibling rivalry, mentions of SA, cursing, betrayal, medical stuff

Word Count: 5.2K

Masterlist

Two years later, the couple found themselves at yet another “charity ball.” Viggo’s daughter had been a regular attendee since she was seventeen and he decided she could handle being him for a night. But for the past two years, John Wick had been regularly added to the guest list as more than just a bodyguard. Of course he still acted like a bodyguard, but now he was more present. Rather than skulk in the shadows, he was practically glued to his wife’s hip, remaining silent and sending glares to all the dangerous people of the crime world who would dare pose a threat to Mrs. Wick.

“Stop scaring people,” she lightly reprimanded her husband. “I have work to do.”

He kept the smile tugging at his lips off his face, still scanning the room. “It’s not my fault they’re intimidated by my presence alone,” he shrugged.

She just rolled her eyes, going back to scouring the crowd for other members of the Russian crime syndicate. Although other Russian families were supposed to be her allies, the Tarasov family had been in a few small turf wars with other branches of their crime syndicate, making Y/N wary. But she didn’t show it. She was Viggo Tarasov’s daughter, this was New York, her turf. And the guard dog behind her made sure everyone knew it.

Spying one of her uncles, Alexi Petrov, who had been a problem over by the East River, she approached with a bright smile on her face. “Дядя,” she greeted.

A smile came over his face as well. “Y/N, how good to see you,” he greeted his niece. “I haven’t seen you since your wedding.”

“Yes, that’s right. And you remember my husband? John Wick?” she introduced, stepping to the side.

John stepped forward, reaching out to shake his hand. He purposely let his suit jacket fall open so the lesser Russian mob boss could see the gun resting inside. Petrov also grabbed John’s arm in an intimidation tactic, but only found a knife tucked into the assassin’s sleeve. “It’s nice to see you again,” John greeted.

“Likewise,” Petrov replied. “How’s your father?” he asked his niece, eager to be the thorn in his older cousin’s side.

“He’s well. Having a little trouble with your cousin out west but it shouldn’t be a problem for us.”

“Yes, well I’d hate if you lost control of your ports,” he said smugly.

“Aw well aren’t you just a doll,” she said sweetly, taking a glass of champagne from a passing waitress. “Just a tip, you may want to give your guys a heads up. Word is, The Boogeyman is after them.” She then leaned up on her toes, giving him a familial peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon,” she smiled before turning, John following after her.

The rest of the night full of thinly veiled threats went smoothly until it didn’t. Suddenly, the lights went out and before John could pull his wife closer, acting as her human shield, a man appeared from the crowd, sending a knife into Y/N Wick’s stomach. The mercenary didn’t even get a chance to tell his boss the job was done because The Boogeyman’s knife was disemboweling him a second later.

The lights came back on quickly. Every gun in the room was raised but no shots had been fired. The night’s guests understood why there was a blackout when they saw the mercenary choking on his own blood on the ground, and John Wick clutching his wife’s side desperately trying to stop the bleeding. Suddenly Kirill appeared in the crowd. “We’re tailing Petrov, catch him!” he yelled, taking his charge into his arms. “I’ll get her help.” John nodded, reluctant to leave his wife but he still very much wanted revenge. He ran towards the back exit, gun already drawn, ready to drag his prey practically into hell.

Meanwhile, his wife desperately wanted some comfort as she realized what had happened to her. “John?” she called after him.

“Hey,” Kirill caught her attention, “he’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. The ambulance will be here soon,” he assured. She nodded, seemingly understanding and cooperative. Surrounding them were other employees of the Tarasov family, ushering the crowd away from the injured girl. Which created enough of a clearing that she could see her attacker. She began hyperventilating upon seeing her still alive attacker, groaning in agony with his guts spilled across the floor. Upon noticing her terrified expression, Kirill blocked her view, pushing her head to face in the other direction as he angled his body to block the sight. “Calm down,” he tried to reassure the girl. “You are nowhere near as bad as him, John made sure of that. You’re just gonna get some stitches and you’ll be up and walking in no time.”

She nodded as best as she could, tears streaming down her face as her father’s loyal employee kept her head turned away. Just as her pain became seemingly unbearable, the paramedics arrived, pushing their way through the still clamoring crowd. She couldn’t see much, her vision going hazy, all she could see were many people in uniforms surrounding her, passing medical equipment between each other. She was then jolted into reality by the absolute agony of being lifted onto the gurney. She had sent John to the doctor with stab and bullet wounds so many times, she had no idea how he managed to still be up and moving around. She shortly lost consciousness after being wheeled outside.

~

John had managed to catch Alexi Petrov—the idiot had run on foot with no backup and no getaway driver. He thought he’d be able to run to the Continental and just regroup from there. But John caught him easily, leaving him hog-tied in a Tarasov SUV. “No one touches him until I get back from the hospital. Got it?” he demanded from one of the drivers.

“Of course,” he assured, getting into the car and driving off towards Viggo’s building.

John, in turn, hailed a taxi, getting a ride to the hospital. In the waiting room was a guard. Upon seeing John walk in, the guard stood up. “She’s in room 514,” he told the assassin. He gave a nod of thanks before heading to the elevator.

Once he reached the fifth floor, he went to the door that had yet another guard outside of it. He let John in, no questions asked, leaving John in the room with just Viggo and an empty space where a hospital bed should be. John immediately began to fear the worst: that his wife had died or that Viggo had taken her away from him, deeming him not good enough for his daughter.

“Relax,” the mob boss said, “she’s in surgery. That bastard nicked her kidney so now they have to go in and repair it.”

“Oh…” John said. He had dealt with more than his fair share of stabs. But he had been lucky, they were all flesh wounds.

“I heard you caught Petrov. Good work. I assume he’s tied up in my basement awaiting your arrival?”

“He is,” John agreed. “No one is allowed to touch him until I’m there.”

Viggo nodded. “Sounds about right. He better pray his heart gives out. They said the assassin was still breathing when Charlie went to go pick him up.”

John nodded, considering his next words. “This life isn’t safe for her anymore and you know it.”

“I know,” Viggo agreed, remembering the loss of Iosef’s mother. This world wasn’t kind to women. They were seen as leverage amongst many of the older criminals.

“She won’t be safe as long as I’m still involved.”

“You’re asking for an impossible thing,” Viggo countered. John didn’t say anything, just continued to stare. He needed to get out of this life for her. “An impossible thing requires an impossible task.” Viggo then laid out five names and a time constraint of one night.

“It’ll be done by Sunday night,” John assured. “I just have a few things to take care of beforehand.”

Viggo nodded before standing up, heading for the door. “Good luck, John.” The assassin just watched him go. He wasn’t going to stay for his own daughter?

After another hour, the door finally opened and the orderlies wheeled in his wife’s hospital bed. John stood up as soon as she came in, trying to go to her but the doctor intercepted. “The anesthesia should wear off within the hour but overall, she’ll be fine. We saved her kidney and she should make a full recovery in about a month.”

John thanked the doctor, going over to his wife’s side. He grasped her hand, holding it to his chest as he began to break. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you,” he cried. The guilt weighed heavily on his soul, he had broken his vow to her that he had made right after they were married. “But we’re gonna be safe soon. I’ll make sure of it.”

Just like the doctor promised, an hour later the hand that was intertwined with John’s squeezed his fingers slightly. “Y/N,” he whispered, snapping to attention. His fingers squeezed in return, looking for some sort of assurance that he hadn’t made the movement up. And when her eyes peeled themselves open, John swore he had never been happier. “Oh thank god,” he breathed, his head falling onto the bed in relief.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay,” she assured her husband, her hand pulling out of his embrace so she could thread her fingers through his hair. “The doctors said it was an easy fix.”

The assassin took a few deep breaths before lifting his head up to look at her. “I can’t let anything like this happen ever again,” he swore.

“John, I’m fine. It’s not your fault.”

“I’ve made a lot of enemies. And one of these days it won’t be a random knife attack from a family member you pissed off. One day, someone’s actually going to try to kill you for being my wife.”

“What are you saying?” she demanded, fearing the worst.

Reading her face and the fact that the EKG was beeping faster, John’s face softened as he went to comfort his wife. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m not leaving you,” he assured. “No. I, uh, asked your father for retirement. After I finish one thing.”

“What are you finishing?” she asked. Any relaxation she was feeling after her husband’s assurance was fading away as she conjured up images of what her father could possibly be making John do.

“Don’t worry about it. Caterina is gonna take you home. I’ll be home in a couple days and then we’re gonna get a new place. Away from the city,” John explained calmly, stroking her hair soothingly.

“John, what are you doing?” she demanded, tears beginning to prick her eyes out of fear for her husband.

“Everything is going to be okay,” he assured. “Soon enough we’ll have a house out in the country and we’ll have peace. Together.” He stood up, getting ready to leave. But first, he leaned down to press a kiss to his wife’s forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she cried. “Please come back to me.”

“I will,” he assured before walking out.

After a miserable rest of the day in the hospital, she was finally released and Caterina finally came to get her. “Oh ягодка,” Caterina exclaimed as she entered the hospital room. Her cousin was already sat up, struggling to lean down enough to get her shoes on despite the fact that she was still only wearing a hospital gown. “I brought you some clothes.”

“Thanks,” she said, standing up. She had no pain standing up or walking given all the pain meds she was on, but any movement in her torso made her feel like her skin was going to be torn open. She took the clothes from her cousin before hobbling into the bathroom. With some creative solution and heavy leaning on the numerous handrails in the bathroom, the heiress has managed to dress herself. She had no idea how people like John managed to suffer through wounds like this and keep going like they weren’t stabbed or shot. “That wasn’t easy,” she said, hobbling out of the bathroom.

Caterina gave her a sympathetic look before standing up with a bright smile. She then pointed to the wheelchair that had been placed by the door. Y/N opened her mouth to argue but Caterina held her finger up like she was shushing a child. “Don’t argue with me. I’m not gonna get stabbed by John just because you tripped and tore open your stiches.”

She didn’t even bother arguing, sitting in the chair with a huff. Caterina gave a triumphant smile, wheeling the chair out of the room before passing her cousin off to an awaiting guard. As Caterina and the guard chatted idly, Y/N was lost in thought, worrying for John. She knew that in order to buy their freedom, John would have to do an impossible thing. Her husband was the best, they called him Baba Yaga—the one you sent to kill the boogeyman. But he was still human, he could still be killed and that was a horrifyingly sober reality.

Once they arrived at Viggo’s main building, they pulled into the ground floor garage. The first floor of a building was a designated garage for his family and employees. But the floor under that was a dungeon of sorts. It’s where Viggo sent his enemies and prisoners to be interrogated, punished, executed, whatever sort of bloody business he had. Viggo’s daughter had never once been down there, but as she was wheeled past the lower level entrance, towards the elevator, she caught sight of the cleaning van. And conveniently, the “cleaners” were carrying up several bags wrapped on multiple layers. “Who was that?” she asked the guard, waiting for the elevator.

“It’s none of your concern, miss,” the guard simply dismissed.

But his lack of cooperation wasn’t a concern because Charlie had come up to the garage level. “Mrs. Wick, it’s good to see you,” he said through a bright smile as he walked over. “I’m glad to see you out of the hospital so soon. Based on what John did to Petrov, I thought you’d be down for at least a week.”

“Uh, no I’m fine,” she stuttered out. “Did you talk to John?” she asked, desperate for some sort of clue of where her husband was.

“Only briefly,” Charlie answered. “I have to go, but I’m glad to see you, Mrs. Wick.” And with that, he headed back to his van while she was pulled into the elevator.

The next twenty-four hours were agonizing for her as she wondered where her husband was or if he was even still alive. Sometimes she sat quietly in her room, waiting to hear the sound of gunfire or sirens wailing but the city seemed silent that night. She didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. Caterina had tried to keep her distracted for most of the night but eventually gave up, going home to get some much needed sleep. And when Viggo tried to speak to his daughter, she just screamed at him for giving her husband an impossible task that could very well get him killed.

But when John Wick returned in the wee hours of the morning, the first person to see him was his wife. He took the stairs all the way up to their floor of the building, wanting to remain unseen. He first went to the bedroom, finding the sheets disheveled and a few books on the ground—relics of the fight Viggo had with his daughter when she threw several things at him, screaming at him to leave. Next, he went to their sitting room, nothing. Before he checked any of the guest or specialty rooms, he went to the kitchen. There, he found his wife brewing a pot of coffee. He whispered her name softly but it was easily heard in the dark of the night.

“Oh my god, John,” she cried, immediately throwing herself into his arms. She always worried for him when he was working but she had never been this scared.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” he assured her, clutching her body to his tightly. “I’m done. I’m out. I’ll always be with you from here on out,” he promised. “There’s a house out in New Jersey I think you’ll like. It’s got big windows and a pool.”

She smiled at his offer. “I’m sure I’ll love it.” She then pulled away, taking the chance to inspect her husband. Even in the dark of the kitchen she could see the blood soaking through his shirt. “Please tell me this isn’t your blood,” she demanded from him.

“Not all of it,” he admitted, slightly sheepishly.

“Here, sit,” she said, directing him to one of the bar stools. He complied as she flipped on the lights and grabbed their borderline surgical first aid kit from one of the cabinet. Unless John knew he actually needed serious surgery, he would just insist that his wife patch him up. She began unbuttoning his shirt, finding his bulletproof vest underneath. “At least you wore your vest,” she said, finding bullet holes in it. She went to push it off his shoulders but gasped when she found a bullet in his shoulder, blood spewing from the wound. “John!”

“I’m fine. It’s close to the surface. You just have to pull it out and stich it up.”

She sent him a slight glare as she carefully pulled the vest off of his body. She had told him to go to the doctor so many times but he always refused so she just stopped arguing. Heading to the opposite side of the kitchen, she grabbed a bottle of whiskey and rubbing alcohol. She handed the drink to her husband before pouring some of the rubbing alcohol onto some gauze and beginning to clean the wound. He thanked her for the drink as she started sterilizing the other equipment.

“Yeah, well I figured you’d refuse pain meds.”

“I don’t like how they make me feel.”

“Okay tough guy,” she teased, prodding around his wound looking for the bullet. “Is this it?” she asked, feeling a hard lump.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Use the forceps to dig up towards it and grab it. Don’t stop until you get it out no matter what I say.”

“Okay,” she uttered nervously as she grabbed the forceps. Steeling herself, she dug into the wound for a few minutes trying to get a grip on the bullet. The entire time, John stayed still except for letting out a few groans of pain. “I’m sorry,” she apologized every time one of her movements made him cry out.

“It’s okay, keep going,” he assured her, taking a deep swig from the bottle of whiskey.

After a few more moments of struggling, she finally managed to pry it out. She then stitched up his shoulder before moving on. “Any other stab wounds or bullet holes I should know about?” she asked.

“No, just some bruising from the bullets,” he said, getting off the stool.

“Go get in the shower,” she told her husband. “I’ll clean this up and get you something for the bruising.” But before she could walk away, John grabbed her wrist, holding her in place.

“Hey, you also have a major wound. Sit down, let me check your stiches,” he told her.

“John I’m fine. The doctors did them.”

“Please?” he begged, wanting to make sure his wife was okay. So she reluctantly sat down, lifting her shirt enough to reveal the bandages covering her stiches. The assassin peeled the bandage up as his wife hissed in pain at the tugging of her still sensitive skin. Once he had removed the bandage, he inspected the stitches. “Yeah, looks like this bandage needed to be changed a couple hours ago.”

“Oh…” she said, her voice hollow. “I kind of lost track of time since you told me what you were doing.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he said, wiping down her stiches with rubbing alcohol and prepping more bandages.

“Don’t be. You got us out. And I’ll be grateful for you for forever because of that.”

After he taped down the new bandage, he stood up, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too.”

“Now, about that shower?” he asked suggestively.

“John!” she yelled, lightly smacking his shoulder. “You have a bullet wound and I have a stab wound!”

~~

Five years later, the couple found themselves in a seemingly idyllic life. They had settled in that beautiful home in New Jersey that John had found them. Y/N had taken up a job as a journalist for a small lifestyle magazine. She didn’t need the money, John had made more than enough for them to live on for the rest of their lives, but she wanted something to do other than just lounge around the house all day. Similarly, John had started an informal business of buying beat up, classic cars and restoring them to sell. Beyond a Christmas card from Viggo, they had no connections to their previous lives so nothing could drag them back into the deep.

“Hey,” Y/N said, knocking on the side of the garage as she entered, “I was gonna go to the farmer’s market to get stuff for dinner. Wanna come?”

“Yeah,” John said, standing up while wiping the oil from his hands, “just let me get cleaned up real quick.”

“Okay,” she smiled.

As John walked into the house to wash his hands, he pressed a kiss to his wife’s forehead, making sure to keep his greasy hands clear from her. She giggled as she watched him go inside, waiting for him. “We can take the Mustang,” he said, already grabbing the keys. She stepped outside, past the old Chevelle he was working on, towards John’s vintage Mustang. It was his pride and joy. Sometimes she thought he loved it more than he loved her.

Once they arrived, they headed to the stands, looking for the ingredients for their dinner. As they walked through the crowd, John couldn’t help but go back to his roots. Always looking around for a threat, making sure his wife was close to him and safe. While slipping into domestic bliss was easy for her as she had picked up a job and made a few friends, John had struggled. He wasn’t used to people without cruel intentions and not being known as the most dangerous person in the room. But this is what he wanted and in time, he had really came to love his settled life. He even became friendly with a few of the dads in town, most of them eager to see whatever new toy John would fix up and sell next. They continued through the farmer’s market without incident just like their lives had gone for the past five years: completely without incident.

“So, what are you making?” John asked, placing the bags of groceries on the counter.

“Seriously? You couldn’t guess based on the ingredients?” his wife asked, disappointed in her husband’s cooking knowledge.

“No,” he admitted. “Cooking wasn’t one of the classes at assassin school,” he joked.

His wife shook her head and tsked. “When will they learn that even highly trained assassins need life skills?” she joked. “Okay, I am making you barbecue cajun salmon with mango salsa.”

John smiled. One of his favorite things about getting away from the crime world was the discovery that his wife was actually an amazing cook despite the fact that every meal of her life had been prepared for her. “Sounds good. Do you need any help?”

She went to the bag of produce, putting them all into a bowl. “Can you wash and chop these into cubes?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, taking the food. He went over to the sink, rinsing off all the fruits and vegetables before grabbing the cutting board. While he was doing that, she was preparing the salmon and the glaze to put in the oven. They worked in mostly comfortable silence, just enjoying one another’s company as they prepared their dinner. Occasionally, one would creep up on the other in order to wrap their arms around their partner’s waist and attack the side of their face with kisses.

That night they cuddled on their couch, dinner finished and their dishes sitting in the sink. Her head rested on his chest, his arm wrapped around her shoulder to keep her close. “Hey, so I have a buyer out in Pennsylvania for the Chevelle so I’ll be out all day tomorrow,” John told his wife.

“Okay,” she mused, already half asleep listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart. “I’ve got a few articles I should catch up on so maybe I can get some work done without you distracting me,” she teased.

John smiled, holding his wife closer and pressing his nose into her hair. “Not my fault you’re distracted by me,” he defended with a laugh, which earned him a light smack against his arm.

~

By dinner time the next day, Y/N had completed all of her articles. She had been right in her assessment, she was way more productive when John wasn’t constantly assaulting her with kisses. Just as she was considering whether she should cook dinner or just order takeout, she heard a window shatter.

All of the self-preservation training John had instilled in her kicked in and she immediately ran to the closet that was in the office. Once she had locked herself in, she realized how dumb she was for not grabbing her phone to call 911. But since this was probably a simple robbery, she decided it’d be safer to stay hidden. The burglars probably assumed no one was in the house and would be in and out as soon as possible. Sure, John would be pissed when he learned someone had broken into their home, but he’d be even more pissed if she tried to intervene and got hurt in the process. She remembered the night she got stabbed all too well. The man who had done it and the man who ordered it both suffered long, agonizing deaths.

As she continued to hide in the closet, she listened for any sign of them leaving. She couldn’t hear anything except for the occasional door opening or something being smashed. When they finally reached the office, she held her breath, just waiting for them to grab her laptop or something in leave. But then the door of the closet opened and her body went cold. It was like her entire body had been drained as she stared up at the man wearing a ski mask. “I found her!” he shouted before dragging her out of the closet.

She immediately began screaming and struggling in protest but these men were clearly trained because he held her in a way that none of her defensive moves could escape. The man dragged her out of the office, into the living room where she found two other men standing, both wearing ski masks and holding baseball bats. She was thrown to their feet, breathing heavily as she looked up at them. “Who are you?” she managed to choke out through terrified sobs. “We have money, just please don’t hurt me.”

The slimmest man, standing to the side began to laugh like a comic book villain. “Trust me, we don’t need your money. I just need you gone,” he said. Before she could ask what he meant, the man pulled off his mask, revealing the face of her half brother.

“Iosef, what are you-” But before she could finish her sentence, he was bringing his baseball bat down onto her. He struck her ribs and she immediately knew he had cracked at least some as pain exploded in her ribs.

“I’m not letting you take what is rightfully mine,” her brother spat as he brought the mask back over his head. The other two then began bringing their bats down on her body, trying to beat her to death. All she could do between the screams and sobs was try to protect her head as they assaulted her body. But the man behind her cracked his bat against the back of her head like a golf club. Her hands took the brunt of the force but it was still incredibly painful to have hear hands smashed in.

She screamed in pain as they continued their assault until she was sure she was going to die right there. Eventually her screams stopped as her lungs felt like they had collapsed in on themselves. She was sure all her ribs were shattered and all her internal organs had ruptured from the blows.

When she stopped screaming they stopped beating her. Iosef had stopped beating her long ago, leaving the work up to his henchmen despite the fact that this had been his idea. Once the beatings stopped, one of Iosef’s friends pushed her so she was now laying on her back. He laughed seeing her bruised, bleeding, and tear stained face. Reaching down to her pants, he began undoing the buttons. She wanted to tell him to stop but she physically couldn’t pull in enough air to form a word. Fortunately for her, Iosef happened to turn back around at that moment.

“No! What are you doing man? That’s my sister,” he cried. Not out of defense of his sister, simply because he was grossed out by it. “C’mon let’s finish the job. Her husband will be home soon.” The prince of the mob then pulled out a large hunting knife, sauntering over to where his sister laid on the floor, coughing and spitting up her own blood. “Sorry to do this,” he said mockingly, leaning down close to her face. “But you leave me no choice. You won’t be inheriting dad’s business now.” And with those final words, he drove the knife into the center of his sister’s chest, leaving the blade impaled in her to send a message. “Let’s go!” he ordered his lackeys as they ran out to the car, shouting in celebration.

Meanwhile, Y/N laid in a puddle of blood on her own living room floor. As she stared up at the ceiling, her vision fading, she began to pray for the first time in her life. She prayed mostly for John. That he’d be okay and he’d be able to continue his life not drowning in grief, revenge, or guilt. She just wanted him to be happy, he deserved to be happy.

Masterlist

#john wick x reader #john wick #keanuverse #keanu reeves #x reader #john wick x y/n #john wick x you #forced marriage #arranged marriage #marriage #au #mob

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Forced Love II

John Wick x Reader

Summary: Arranged marriages aren't uncommon in the crime world but John Wick never expected to be forced into one with is boss' daughter.

Chapter Summary: The newlyweds get to know each other on their honeymoon.

Warning: Minimal use of Y/N, canon level violence, alcohol, sparring, jealous!john, misogyny, smut, embarassment, mention of virginity, french people, privilege

Word count: 6.4k

Masterlist

A few days later the newlyweds found themselves in Saint-Tropez for their honeymoon. “You’re on your honeymoon, not working. You should relax and enjoy your vacation,” Y/N told her husband, lounging on a beach chair. “They’ve got it,” she assured, sending glances to the armed guards that scattered the private villa. Despite her protests, both Viggo and John wanted her to be guarded on their honeymoon.

John smiled, “Respectfully, they’re here because I’m supposedly relaxing.”

“So you’re saying that if only you were looking out for me, it’d be the same as the ten of them currently guarding us?” she challenged.

He shrugged, not wanting to come off as too arrogant. “More or less, yeah.”

“Hmm,” she nodded, considering his words. “And what if I said I could handle myself and didn’t need you or anyone else to protect me?”

He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at that. “No offense, but I watched you struggle with your carry on. You’re gonna need my protection.”

Fortunately she found his honesty funny. “Fair enough,” she chuckled. “Although, not totally my fault. My father refused to let me be trained. No strength training, no combat training, certainly no weapons training.”

John stared at her in bewilderment. “How does he expect you to run things one day if you can’t even shoot? Much less fight?”

That elicited a genuine laugh from her. “You think my father will let me run his empire? He always says ‘Fighting is not a woman’s place.’ He sure as hell won’t put me in charge. I mean, he’s happy to let me be the face of our family when he needs me to but it’s all going to go to my idiot of a brother. Iosef doesn’t know he’ll inherit it yet though. I think my father is using me to try to scare him into getting his shit together.”

“Still, you live in a dangerous world. You should know how to at least defend yourself.”

A smile crept onto her face as she sat up, swinging her legs off of the chair so now she could fully face the assassin. “So teach me,” she challenged. He sat up in return, a little surprised by her boldness. He had to admit, he had always thought of Viggo’s daughter as just a pretty face to do her father’s bidding. This determination to be independent was surprising. “Teach me how to fight. Or at the very least self-defense.”

“Okay,” John nodded. Finally, a vacation he could get behind. He stood up, taking her hand and leading her further onto the soft sand, away from the chairs. “Okay, first thing’s first. If you can run or hide, that’s always going to be your best bet. Chances are, anyone coming after you is going to be a lot bigger, stronger, and better trained.” She gave him an unimpressed look, having been lectured her entire life to run and hide. “Uh, but on to the real things: punches. So stance wide,” he acted as he spoke, showing her what he meant, “arms up. Make sure you don’t tuck your thumbs into your fist, that’s how you break your thumbs.” She nodded, copying his movements. “Now, you’re going to want to pivot on the ball of your back foot, angling your body towards your opponent as you throw the punch. That’ll give you some power.” She tried to follow his directions but it looked honestly pathetic. The fact that she was only wearing a bikini didn’t help that fact either. He couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle at her attempt. “Here, I’ll show you.”

He stepped around her, going behind her. “Get back into your original stance,” he directed. She complied as John stepped closer, his skin brushing against hers as he pressed his chest to her back, slotting their bodies together. He put his foot against her rear foot, his hands clasping her fists. “Okay,” he began, his lips pressed against her ear, eliciting a shiver down his spine. John held in his groan as her ass moved against his crotch, he just prayed he didn’t get hard as he stood so close to her. “Pick up the heel of your rear foot, standing on the ball of your foot.” She complied as John used his own foot to rotate hers, simultaneously moving her arm forward and forcing her body to rotate. Again she rubbed against him, making him realize he’d have to come up with a better way to teach her because he couldn’t be this distracted. “Uh that was good,” he said in a flustered voice, pulling away from her. “You think you got it?”

“Yeah,” she agreed in an equally flustered voice. She couldn’t deny that every time he touched her, it set her skin on fire. He held her hand to help her onto the plane and that was all she could think about for the seven hour flight.

They continued on for hours until the assassin finally agreed to a sparring match. “If you’re sure you wanna do this,” he agreed hesitantly, getting into a fighting position. “I’ll go easy on you though.”

Y/N laughed, getting into a fighting position too. “If you were anyone else I’d tell you not to but I’d like to at least get one punch in.”

He returned her laugh before throwing out a soft punch. She dodged it easily, returning the favor. Although, her punch was for real but she was so inexperienced her body language was obvious. John dodged it, not letting her get in a victory that easily. He threw another, slightly harder punch which she dodged once again, but she took the opportunity to send a kick to his knee. It actually landed, driving John’s knees to the ground but he was up in no time, launching himself at his wife. He pulled her to the ground, making sure to cushion her fall in the process, but she broke free, scrambling to her feet. She threw another punch but rather than dodge it, John grabbed her wrist and spun her around, pulling her body his. As soon as his crotch made contact with her ass—again—he immediately regretted it. She took him secondary shock to throw an elbow into his cheek, freeing herself. John was proud but he was ready to be done, he had some… stuff to take care of. So as she was setting herself up to send another kick at him, the highly trained assassin simply scooped her up, throwing her over his shoulder.

“John!” she shrieked with laugher as he carried her into the water. He laughed as she began to beg for mercy, not wanting to be thrown in the still cool water. Once he waded in to his hips, he threw her off of his shoulder, dumping her into the water with a laugh. “John,” she cried again as soon she resurfaced. He was laughing so hard it gave her the opportunity to grab the neckline of his shirt, dragging his face into the water too. She laughed as he fell but as soon as he resurfaced, she realized her mistake.

John was on her quickly, scooping her up so her chest was pressed against his. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips, making him forget the fact that he was planning on throwing her back into the water. Their eyes locked and suddenly there were no guards watching them and they hadn’t been forced into this marriage.

As Y/N stared into her husband’s deep brown eyes, all she wanted was to kiss him. For real. Not a quick peck or the one forced on them on their wedding day, she wanted this one to mean something. But as she was working up the courage to do it, there was a shout from the beach. “Hey!” one of the guards shouted. “There’s a call from your father!”

John groaned, also having hoped to kiss her in that moment. If he had just manned up a second earlier, he could be kissing his wife right now. And he’d have a better idea of where he stood in her life. The woman in question turned back to face her husband, letting out a soft groan too. She hesitantly unwrapped her legs from his hips, standing on her own and reluctantly pulling her arms from around his neck. But John had to suppress a groan of pleasure as her hands still trailed down his chest before falling to her sides.

As they waded to shore, John sent a slight glare to the man holding out the phone. He looked mildly startled but otherwise didn’t react as he handed his charge the phone. She answered in Russian, only saying a few words before hanging up. She handed the phone back to the guard before turning to face her husband. “You want to just order dinner?” she suggested, tired and not wanting to get ready to go out.

“Sure,” he agreed. “I’ll find a place while you get cleaned up.”

After a much needed shower, the newlyweds were sat in the villa’s breakfast nook, eating takeout from a genuine French restaurant. “So, is it true that my father saw you kill three men with a pencil and that’s why he recruited you?”

He shrugged, afraid to scare off his wife. “More or less,” he agreed, taking a sip of bourbon. Before he could say anything else, she was downing her water and grabbing the bottle of bourbon. “You drink bourbon?” he asked skeptically.

She shrugged as she poured. “Don’t know. My dad caught me stealing a bottle of vodka was I was sixteen. He said that if I even tasted a drop of alcohol before I was ‘ready’—who the fuck knows when that is?—then he’d beat the liquor out of me. But we’re in France, he’s not here, and I’m now a married woman,” she said, making a toast towards her husband before taking a sip. John laughed as she made a face of disgust at the first sip. “Ugh, how do you drink this?”

“It’s an acquired taste,” he chuckled. “Let’s start you with something easier.” He called in one of the guards, telling him to get a bottle of champagne from the wine cellar. “So no alcohol until now?”

She confirmed with a nod. “Surprising, I know. Considering that my father is Russian.”

“Well I can believe it based on the fact that he didn’t want you to learn how to fight,” he said as the champagne and two glasses were brought over. The assassin smoothly grabbed the bottle, opening it like it was nothing before pouring each of them a glass. He held up his glass like he was giving a toast. “To new experiences.”

She returned his toast, taking a sip of the bubbly liquid. “This is way better,” she agreed, setting it next to her forgotten bourbon. She slid the shorter glass to the center of the table, leaving the option for John if he wanted it.

“So, what was it like to be raised by Viggo Tarasov?” John asked, trying to get to know his wife. Truthfully, he already knew a lot about her from both observing her at work and based on what the others said but he figured she’d be freaked out if he just started spouting facts off.

“Um actually I can’t really remember my father before the age of twelve. I was mostly raised by maids and tutors since my mom passed when I was young. But I spent my entire life in New York,” she shrugged. “Not much to tell when you’re homeschooled.” John nodded, he honestly had too much to tell but she wasn’t ready to hear about his past just yet. “But not much to complain about when your every want has been met. I hope you don’t think of me as some sort of brat,” she said shyly. She may not know a lot about John’s life but she could tell he’s been through more than his fair share.

“I don’t think you’re a brat,” he assured her. “Your brother however…?”

“Oh don’t even get me started on that idiot. He’s only my half-brother if you didn’t know.” John chuckled at her eagerness to separate herself from him.

About two hours later their plates had been cleared and the drinks were long gone. Y/N had managed to drink over half the bottle of champagne while John had drank nearly the entire bottle of bourbon. “So what are your tattoos?” Y/N finally asked. She had been itching for a clear look ever since she caught a glimpse of them on her wedding night.

“They’re uh… reminders,” John explained. “I can show them to you,” he offered, feeling emboldened by the liquor. His wife only nodded but that was all the confirmation he needed. He stood up, taking her hand before leading her upstairs to the master bedroom. When they had arrived, he insisted on her taking the master bedroom while he took one of the guest rooms.

Upon shutting the door, he took a deep breath before lifting his shirt over his head. He stood tensely, listening for a reaction. He only heard a soft exhale of breath as her footsteps came closer. Her fingers just barely ghosted the inked skin as she took in the top letters. “Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat,” she read. “Fortune favors the bold.” Her fingers then flitted up to the dog on his upper right shoulder. “Got in a little trouble when you were younger?” she guessed.

“A bit,” John chuckled. “How did you know what that meant?”

“I grew up around Russian mercenaries. You pick up on stuff,” she answered dismissively. “More trouble,” she said teasingly as her fingers found the fiery skull. Finally her fingers found the giant cross and praying hands. “Didn’t take you for a man of faith,” she mused.

John shrugged, turning to face his wife. She was taken slightly aback as she was greeted with her husband’s bare chest for the first time. He looked incredible, especially considering his age. “I don’t have faith in the traditional sense,” he answered, catching her attention. She looked up to see him staring at her intently. This was the moment, it was now or never.

She stood up on her toes, reaching John’s lips. He was taken slightly off guard but his arms were eagerly wrapped around her waist in a second. He bent more towards her, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He bit her lower lip softly, encouraging her to open her mouth. She did so, allowing his tongue to slip in gently, eliciting a soft moan from her. Suddenly he wasn’t thinking straight and he was pushing her towards the bed. She eagerly went along with it, tugging on his shirt to bring him down with her as she fell on her back onto her bed. His hands caught him so he didn’t crush her but he wrapped one arm around her waist, tugging her up towards the center of the bed so their feet were no longer hanging off.

As they continued to make out, John’s hand slipped up under her top, finding that his wife wasn’t wearing a bra. His fingers immediately began teasing her nipples, causing her to let out soft moans.

When he pulled away to take her top off, she took the opportunity to speak up. “John, wait. You should know something,” she began. He looked concerned and halted his movement, resting his hand on her stomach and placing his weight on his other arm so he could look at her fully. “I wanna do this. I really do,” she assured. She couldn’t possibly convey how much she wanted her husband right then. “But you should know… I’m a virgin,” she admitted almost shamefully.

Shit, was all that ran through John’s mind. He should have put that together given her lack of life experience but he hadn’t been thinking critically in his mildly inebriated state. He pulled further away from his wife, much to her dismay. “We shouldn’t do this right now then.”

“What?” was all she managed to choke out. She was married to him. Who was she supposed to lose her virginity to if not for him?

“I want you, believe me,” he tried to assure her. She couldn’t possibly comprehend how much willpower this was taking. “But you’re drunk—for the first time too,” he added. “You shouldn’t be losing your virginity drunk. I don’t want you to have any regrets.”

She didn’t even argue with him, too embarrassed to say anything. She just pulled her legs into her chest, clearly uncomfortable and feeling vulnerable. He felt bad, but he’d feel worse if she ever had any regrets about their first time together. So he just took his leave, frustrated with himself too.

~

At breakfast John tried to catch his wife’s eye but she refused to even look at him. Every time he spoke she’d either let out a noncommittal hum or outright ignore him. She only stayed in the kitchen long enough to eat her food before retreating upstairs to her room.

John had to admit he was hurt by her reclusion. He had done the right thing last night so why did he feel bad? The only reason he didn’t try to force her to get over last night was because he knew her behavior was a result of shame, not anger. She wasn’t lashing out at him because she didn’t get what she wanted, she was embarrassed. So he decided to give her space to cool off before giving her a fun night out.

Right before dinner time he finally knocked on the master bedroom’s door. After a moment it finally opened, revealing Y/N. She hadn’t even changed out of her pajamas today but as she answered, he could tell she was trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Get dressed,” he told her. “We have dinner reservations.”

“Oh John thank you, but I don’t-”

“No,” he cut her off. “I need to make up for last night. So we’re gonna have a fun night and get over this little rough patch,” he said in a light tone, trying not to come across like he was ordering her around.

“You don’t have to make up for anything,” she assured. “You did the right thing. It’s just a little embarrassing to be rejected by your own husband,” she let out an awkward laugh. “I’ll uh meet you downstairs in 15,” she said before shutting the door.

Before she stepped away to go get changed, she listened for John’s footsteps. Once she was sure he was gone she went to her suitcase, looking for something suitable to wear. She found a white sundress with blue floral patterns that reached mid-thigh. Putting it on, she paired it with sandals and natural makeup. Just before exiting the room she spotted her engagement and wedding rings. John had been wearing his wedding band the entire time they were married but she hadn’t worn hers since the wedding. She didn’t have anything against John or the marriage (really only against her father for forcing so many things on her) but she mostly just didn’t like wearing such a massive diamond. When she had brought up concerns that the ring could break, John just said he’d get her a new one like it was no big deal. So, seeing as it seemed like he wanted her to wear it, she put the rings on before heading downstairs. There, she found John sitting in the foyer wearing a suit.

When he saw her, he stood up, giving a genuine smile. The rings on her finger didn’t escape his notice, giving him hope she wouldn’t try to leave him. He reached out to take her hand but hesitated, remembering that her wounds were still fresh from their encounter last night.

She returned his smile, albeit a bit forced. The movement of his hand didn’t escape her notice either but she ignored it, walking past him towards the door. She opened it, walking out but still held the door open for him.

The pair strolled down the street, tension between them. All was forgiven on both parts but it was still incredibly awkward. To pass the time, Y/N looked around, spotting her guards popping up every once in a while. John was doing the same but rather than looking for guards, he was looking for threats that slipped through their security detail. Technically he wasn’t working. He was supposed to be relaxing on his honeymoon. But he had assumed the role of commander of the detail following him around. He knew about everything that was happening. Every single person that walked by their temporary home and every boat that passed by their private beach. John already found himself incredibly concerned for his wife’s safety. Sure, when he was tasked with watching her in the past he took his job seriously, but now she was more than a job.

“This is it,” John ended the silence as they reached a very busy restaurant. The heiress had honestly mistaken it for a club at first because of the line of people waiting to get in. “C’mon, we have reservations,” he said, answering her unasked question. He extended his hand, more confidently this time, which she took, following him up to the hostess’ stand.

“Hi, do you have a reservation?” she greeted.

“Yes, two for Wick.”

“Okay, I have you right here. Follow me, Mr. and Mrs. Wick,” she smiled. She led them through the crowded restaurant to a secluded table on the balcony, right over the water. “Enjoy,” she bid them as they sat.

“Mrs. Wick, haven’t heard that one yet,” Y/N said once the hostess left. It was a little unnerving hearing it for the first time.

John kept his cool facade but internally was freaking out. Did she not like his last name? Did she not want to be attached to him? Or did she just prefer to keep her own name? That’d be fine with him but they were already in such a delicate position right now and he didn’t want to make her anymore uncomfortable. Fortunately he didn’t have to say anything because the waiter came up to them.

“Bonjour, how are we this evening?” he asked the pair. The waiter honestly looked more like he was from California than France. He had tan skin and sunny blonde hair with beachy waves. As if he had spent every day of his life surfing.

“We’re good,” John answered, not missing the way the waiter’s gaze lingered on his wife’s chest. “We’ll take a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.”

The waiter gave a strained smile. “Of course, sir. I’ll be right back.”

John turned to look back at his wife but she was staring down into the ocean, holding herself tightly. He could see the goosebumps starting to form on her arms from the breeze. “Cold?” he asked.

That seemed to snap her out of whatever daze she was in. “Hm? Oh no I'm fine,” she assured even though she was rubbing her arms. John wordlessly stood up, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around his wife. “Thanks,” she smiled sheepishly, pulling the jacket closer as John retook his seat.

“Of course. Wouldn’t want you freezing to death,” he joked. But honestly, he’d do anything to get more clothes on her and keep her out of that waiter’s gaze. Speaking of…

“Your Cabernet,” the waiter introduced as he set down the wine glasses. As he poured he finally took the chance to introduce himself. “My name is Theo and I’ll be your server today. Can I start you with any appetizers?” he asked, the entire time ignoring John’s presence.

“We’ll just start with Cervelle de Canut,” John answered, forcing the waiter’s attention to him.

Theo gave another forced smile. “Of course,” he agreed, leaving the couple again.

They returned to their slightly awkward silence, Y/N now unconsciously fiddling with her ring on top of the table. “Does it need to be resized?” John asked.

“Oh, no,” she answered, pulling her hands back to her lap. “Just not used to wearing such a big ring. I’m entirely convinced I'm going to lose it,” she said, staring at the 10 carat diamond. “And if that happens my father will murder me.”

“Why? He didn’t buy it.”

Her jaw dropped open at that admission. “John I-” she didn’t know what to say. “You shouldn’t have. This is way too expensive.”

He just waved his hand dismissively, amused by her reaction. “I may not be as rich as your father but that doesn’t mean I can’t afford nice things.”

“I know that. I just… you don’t seem like the type to spend so much on material things. Especially a ring for a girl you barely know.”

“I wanted to,” he assured. “Remember, I already knew a lot about you from when I worked with you.”

“You mean when you were creeping in the shadows watching me?” she teased.

“You make me sound like a creep when you phrase it like that!” That got a genuine laugh from her. John couldn’t help but smile in response. He liked her laugh.

Their night continued smoothly for the most part. The pair was really clicking except for whenever that waiter came over. But John just tried to ignore him. As they were eating dessert, John got a call. He groaned, reluctant to let his date be cut short. But a glance at the caller id told him he had to get it. “Sorry,” he said to his wife as he answered the phone. “This is Wick,” he answered.

“John, we’ve got a minor situation,” Kirill’s voice came over the phone. “This guy tried to break into the house. He won’t say anything but I don’t think he’s associated with anyone dangerous.”

John sighed. “Give me a second,” he called into the phone. Pulling it away from his mouth, he looked at his wife. “This’ll just take a minute,” he assured her, getting up.

She nodded as he walked away, searching for some sense of privacy. Meanwhile, Theo had been watching the pair, waiting for the wife to be alone for a second. As John walked past him, he made a beeline for the secluded table. “Can I help you with anything else, madame?”

“Oh, no I'm alright. Just the cheque please.” But rather than go get the check or simply place it on the table, Theo sat in John’s seat. “Uh…”

“Are you okay?” he asked seriously. “You didn’t exactly look happy when you came in and I couldn’t help but notice that your husband is so much older.”

“Oh, well thank you for your concern but we’re perfectly fine,” she replied, maybe a bit more forceful than necessary.

“Are you sure? Because if you’re in trouble we can help you. There’s an American embassy right down the street.”

“I’m fine, seriously,” she assured. “My husband makes me very happy.”

Theo sat back, seemingly satisfied his customer wasn’t being trafficked but he still had one goal he wanted to accomplish. “I find it hard to believe an old man like him could satisfy such a pretty thing like you,” he flirted smugly. His tone went from genuine concern to arrogant flirting, like he was casually picking up a girl in a bar.

“Uh…” she had no idea what to say in this situation.

“C’mon, you can’t honestly be telling me that you’d rather fuck grandpa over me?”

As Y/N was looking around for help, she finally spotted John approaching and based on the murderous look on his face, he had heard what the waiter said.

“What’d you just call me?” he shouted, catching everyone’s attention and silencing the balcony.

Apparently Theo was stupid because he stood up to face the assassin. “You heard me old man. Although I’m surprised you can hear at all.”

John looked like he wanted to punch the boy but he restrained himself. Instead, he just walked around Theo to where his wife already stood, waiting for him. She took his hand, still wearing his jacket as they headed to the exit.

John angrily stormed out into the street but was stopped by a shout behind them. “Mr. Wick!” a slightly disheveled looking man called.

John looked back at the man who had stopped in the doorway. He turned back to his wife. “Go with Damien,” he nodded over to one of the guards standing on the curb nonchalantly. Sensing that this was about more than just a rude server, she complied, going to stand next to one of the many mercenaries that worked for her father. John walked back over to the owner, another member of the Russian mob who was all too familiar with the reputation of John Wick.

“I’m very sorry for what happened,” he apologized, shaking John’s hand. In it was a gold coin as gratitude for not causing a bigger scene. “I assure you that the boy will be dealt with properly. He didn’t know better.”

John didn’t say anything, just nodded and tucked the gold coin into his pocket as he went back to his wife. She took his hand once again as they headed back towards the villa. “Are you okay?” he asked as he stormed down the sidewalk.

“Yeah, are you?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. She spent her entire life around violent men but had never seen someone get this angry over something so small.

“I’m fine,” he insisted as they reached the house. He continued pulling her behind him, even once they got inside. But once they got inside the foyer, Y/N stopped walking.

“John what is the matter with you?” she asked. “Yeah he was being a dick but he was harmless.”

John took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. He didn’t want to admit out loud that he reacted so harshly because he was jealous. Because he is John Wick, The Boogeyman, Baba Yaga, and no one should ever even look twice at what’s his. So instead of admitting his feelings with words, he decided to show her. He marched right over to his wife, grasping her face and pressing a burning kiss to her lips. She immediately melted into his arms, now understanding what was going on.

His hands moved south, under her ass to her upper thighs. He tapped the back of her thighs, urging her to jump. She did, wrapping her legs around his waist so he could carry her upstairs. Upon reaching the master bedroom, their lips only parted so she could remove John’s shirt and tie. As she laid, sprawled out on the bed, looking slightly disheveled, the assassin took the moment to admire her. Her lip gloss was almost all gone, her hair messy, and the neckline of her dress had been pulled way down. He leaned down on the bed to kiss her again, this time much more gentle. As he kissed her sweetly, his hand crept up under her dress until he found her most intimate parts. Through her lace panties, John rubbed his fingers against her core until he found her clit, eliciting a moan from her lips. John only pulled away from her lips enough to say, “You like that, huh?” To which she only let out pathetic whimpers.

After toying with her for a few minutes, his hand moved up to the waistband of her panties, ripping them off her body. But once they were off, John couldn’t wait anymore, he just wanted his wife to feel good. So without warning, he fell to his knees in front of her, throwing her legs over his shoulders and lifting her skirt so he could reach her core. “So beautiful,” he murmured. “And so wet for me.” His face then moved closer to her core, kissing up her thighs as he went. She could already feel the coil in her stomach tightening in anticipation. John started with small licks to her clit and she nearly whined but she suppressed the noises. But when his tongue delved inside of her, she couldn’t take it anymore. She sat up, grasping her husband’s long hair. He let out a soft groan of pleasure as she grasped his hair, beginning to grind herself against his face, anxious for her own undoing. But when he returned his tongue to her clit and brought two fingers inside of her, pumping and curling them, the coil snapped and she came on his face.

“John,” she moaned, desperate.

“Yes?” he asked with a satisfied smirk on his face. She was still breathing heavily from her first orgasm, unable to answer. “You want me to fuck you?” he asked with a knowing smirk. She only nodded desperately. His smirk widened into a smile as he stood up, looming over his wife. She crawled further up the bed, bringing her body from the edge as she laid her head against the pillows. John stood, removing his trousers. His cock immediately springing up, already hard. He pulled a condom out of his pants pocked, putting it on before he then kneeled in between her legs on the bed, her pussy still dripping. He leaned over her body, kissing her, one of his hands finding her still clothed breast, rubbing circles around it, occasionally brushing over it. “Take it off,” he said in a gruff voice, going back to kissing her once he finished speaking. She didn’t have to be told twice, hands reaching down to pull the dress up. John helped her get it over her head, leaving her body bare to him for the first time. Sure, they had been close to each other before, but bare, they their bodies truly fit together like puzzle pieces.

She moaned, letting his mouth muffle the noise. John then moved from her lips, kissing down her neck, between the valley of her breasts, straight down her stomach, before kissing her clit again. He then moved back up, kissing her again so she could taste herself. “Are you ready,” he whispered, lips ghosting over hers. She nodded emphatically, brushing their noses together accidentally. “I need you to say it,” he insisted. He needed a full green light from her before he took her virginity.

“Yes John,” she breathed. “Fuck me, make me yours.” With another kiss John thrust himself inside of her, slow and gentle. He had to restrain himself from jackhammering her into the bed and abusing her pussy. She let out a moan too loud at the intrusion, her husband’s hand quickly clamping over her mouth to silence her. “Wouldn’t want the guards to know what I’m doing to you,” he grunted into her ear.

She just moaned softer, her fingers finding his back. One arm grasped where his neck connected to his shoulder, holding on for dear life. While the other arm was clutching his lower back, careful to avoid his tattoos, nails digging into the skin as she urged him to go faster. Fortunately, he got the message because he began to pick up the pace, soft groans filling her ears. Eventually he pulled away from her, going up on his knees, bringing her hips with him. She nearly screamed as he hit a new spot inside of her but his look kept her quiet. But when the coil snapped again and she came all over his cock, she bit her lip to keep her screams at bay. John continued fucking into her until his hips began to stutter and he came.

Once he finished, he pulled out of her, making her whine at the loss of his fullness. A smile crept on his face as he mode to lay on his side, his head propped on his arm. Meanwhile, she turned onto her side to face him. “God, that was… you were incredible.”

John chuckled, his free hand brushing the hair out of her face and leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead before his hand slid down to rest on her hip. “Not bad for an older guy?” he joked, now able to look back and laugh about the night’s earlier incident.

“You’re not old,” she insisted. “Sorry about your back,” she apologized, remembering how she had dug her nails in.

“Trust me, I’ve been through worse,” he assured, pressing another kiss to her forehead. He couldn’t get enough of her. “C’mon,” he said, getting up, “let’s get you cleaned up.” He led her to the ensuite bathroom, immediately pushing her to sit on the edge of the bathtub. He then wasted no time turning the shower on, letting it warm up quickly. As the water warmed up, John grabbed a washcloth, wetting it before bringing it over. He kneeled in front of his wife once again, gently nudging her legs apart so he could clean all the slick from between her thighs. She shivered as the cool cloth touched her hot skin, and she grasped his shoulder for stability.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“Of course,” he returned with a soft smile. That night they just held each other, soaking in one another’s warmth.

Masterlist

#john wick x reader #john wick #john wick x y/n #john wick x you #keanuverse #keanu reeves #x reader #forced marriage #arranged marriage #marriage #au #mob

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Forced Love I

John Wick x Reader

Summary: Arranged marriages aren't uncommon in the crime world but John Wick never expected to be forced into one with is boss' daughter.

Chapter Summary: An awkward meeting leads to an awkward wedding leads to an awkward night.

Warning: Minimal use of Y/N, forced marriage, awkwardness, canon level violence, cursing, mentions of childbirth.

Word Count: 4k

Masterlist

“Y/N? Your father wants to see you,” one of the maids informed her as she laid in the sun, absorbing the warmth.

“Where is he?” the heiress asked, turning to look at the maid with a squint despite her sunglasses already blocking the sun.

“His study,” the maid answered with a kind smile. “He told me he has a meeting in half-an-hour so you should hurry.”

“Thank you,” the girl said, dismissing her as she threw a sundress over her body to cover up. She quickly walked into the penthouse of the New York skyscraper, intent to find her father. When Viggo Tarasov requested your presence, you went to him. Especially if you were his family. His daughter was eternally at his beck and call, doing everything he wanted, no matter what. Mostly making appearances when he couldn’t and when they were too complicated or important for her stupid brother. She paced the familiar path to her father’s study on the top floor, considering what he needed. There weren’t any events that she knew of that she’d have to attend in his place. Maybe it was a slightly more informal dinner.

Her questions ceased as she finally reached her father’s study, knocking on the door to be let in. Once her father granted access, she softly opened the door to enter, closing it behind her. “You wanted to see me, oтец?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, beckoning her closer. She sat across from his desk in an uncomfortably sleek chair, concern starting to set in. He looked stressed, as if afraid to tell her something. “I have some news,” he began nervously, delaying the inevitable. “You’re getting married,” he blurted out.

His daughter just stared at him, blinking rapidly. “What?” Arranged marriages in the mob weren’t unheard of but they were usually more of a suggestion than force. She was also blindsided by the fact that she was being pushed to be married so young, having thought she had earned enough of her father’s respect to not just be forced into the wife role. “Do I at least get a say in this?”

“Доча, the needs of the family come before us as individuals. Our family needs you to get married.”

“To who?” she demanded.

The nervous look came over Viggo’s face again. He sat back in his chair, fiddling with his pen as he considered his next words. “One of my men. I’ve sensed that he’s slipping and I need to keep him loyal. He’s too invaluable to me to let go and if he’s married to my daughter, then we’ll be family. He’s an honorable man, he won’t betray family.”

“If he’s slipping will he even want to marry me?” she prodded against her father’s plan, doubting it’s validity.

“Every man that has ever worked for me would kill to be the one to marry you,” Viggo told his daughter. She uncomfortably pulled the hem of her sundress down, suddenly feeling self conscious of all the times she had walked around her own home scantily clad.

“Then who is it?” she asked the most dreaded question.

Viggo sighed before answering. “John Wick.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “As in Baba Yaga?” she asked. She had heard of her father’s favorite assassin’s brutality. Rumor had it, her father had decided to hire him after he murdered three men with a pencil in a bar fight.

“Yes,” her father confirmed. “But don’t fear. He is an honorable man. He will protect you. He has been the one to watch you when I didn’t need him for another task.”

The heiress’ eyes opened impossibly wider. She knew of the regular security that surrounded her whenever she was working for her father, but not of the deadliest assassin.

“Come,” Viggo began, standing up. “You can meet him,” he said, taking advantage of her shocked state. She followed obediently, too surprised to really argue. He led her to the door, simply opening it to reveal The Boogeyman sitting on a sofa in the foyer of the top floor. Upon noticing the door open, John stood to greet his boss and fiancée.

“Доча, I want you to meet John Wick, your fiancé,” Viggo smiled, introducing his daughter to his best assassin. John felt wrong looking down at the twenty-year old girl. Her eyes were wide with poorly disguised fear. She was clearly informed of his role in her father’s mob and was afraid of him—rightfully so. Given her current reaction, in the past she had had no idea of his presence when he was tasked with her safety. Now, as her husband, he would be her bodyguard 24/7.

The assassin strode up to her confidently, extending his hand, trying his best to not seem like a threat. She reacted, placing her hand in his, allowing him to place a kiss on her knuckles. “Y/N,” he greeted with the slightest nod. He had to admit, a part of him felt lucky to marry Viggo Tarasov’s daughter. There were no shortage of inappropriate comments made about her passed among Viggo’s men. Although, John ultimately felt pity, knowing that she was more than likely being forced into this.

“Mr. Wick,” she greeted slightly awkwardly, unsure how to behave in this situation.

John chuckled slightly, endeared by her nervousness. “Call me John,” he insisted. “You will be my wife within the month. I think we can be on a first name basis,” he tried to put her at ease. But instead she tensed up again, turning to her father.

“We’ll be married within the month?”

Both Viggo’s assassin and daughter could see his guilt despite his efforts to remain in control in front of his employee. “Yes,” he confirmed once again. “Best to get it over with. Neither I nor John have the time for you to plan a wedding. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he dismissed himself, quickly retreating back into his study.

The newfound couple watched him go, unimpressed with the way he just shut himself up in his office, waiting for his blindsided daughter to go away. John turned to his bride, admiring her furrowed brows and locked jaw. When he was told of him impending marriage he had been afraid that he’d just be locked further into his contract with Viggo. But that tiny display of defiance gave him hope that he could love Tarasov’s daughter, and that maybe one day she’d love him back.

~

Y/N found herself standing in front of the chapel doors in a plain white dress, clutching a bouquet of flowers that didn’t match with the colors of the flowers dotting what she could see of the venue.

“Stop fussing,” her father reprimanded, tired of her fidgeting. She immediately halted, resisting the urge to tap her fingers against the bouquet or tap her foot.

Eventually the music changed and the doors swung open. The bride didn’t even process the slow trek down the aisle until she was being handed off to her soon to be husband. And even then she didn’t hear any of the officiant’s words, all she could focus on were John’s large, rough, warm hands holding hers. And then all of a sudden those hands were on her jaw, giving her a brief yet sweet kiss.

It wasn’t until they had reached one of the private rooms away from the crowd that the bride felt herself breathe for the first time that day. “Are you ok?” John asked his new wife, having noticed her blank yet anxious stare as soon as he had lifted the veil over her head.

“Yeah,” she breathed out. “Just a little overwhelmed.”

John nodded, noticing a pitcher of water and some glasses that had been set aside for them on a table. He grabbed it, pouring his bride a glass of water before bringing it over to her. He handed it to her wordlessly while gently guiding her to a loveseat. She took a seat as he sat next to her, watching her as she focused intently on the glass in her hand.

The assassin took a deep breath, preparing to say the words he needed to get out before everyone came looking for the newlyweds. “Look, I know you didn’t choose this and I'm sorry. I know I scare you given the stories you hear and what I do for your father but I swear to you that I will be a good husband. No one will ever hurt you, I’ll make sure of that. And I will be whatever you want or need. I can be your husband, your friend, or I can just hide in the shadows and we’ll only see each other at thanksgiving and Christmas,” he offered, eliciting a light chuckle. “Whatever you want I'm there for you. But no matter what life you choose—leaving this all behind or running the whole mob yourself—I will always protect you.”

The bride’s gaze flickered down, finding his hand resting on his thigh. She reached out, grasping it in her smaller hand. “Thank you,” she said. John nodded gratefully but he was more grateful for her voluntary touch. “I know this wasn’t your choice either so don’t feel obligated to stay.”

“I want to,” he assured her, their gazes locked. But hearing footsteps approaching the door, John’s gaze flicked up just as the door opened. Viggo came in along with his lawyer, the officiant, Iosef, and a few other members of the Tarasov family.

“Отец,” Y/N greeted, standing up.

“You did good,” Viggo praised his daughter, pressing a kiss to each cheek. “Before we get all the paperwork started, I’d like to give you my gift,” he smiled as John came to stand next to his bride.

“That’s not necessary, sir,” John insisted like he was supposed to. “You’ve already done too much.” Like pay for my loyalty with your child and a wedding no one asked for.

“I insist. Anything for my daughter and new son-in-law,” the mob boss smiled. He then pulled an envelope from his pocket, handing it to his daughter.

She opened it, eyes widening when she saw two tickets to France along with a few other payments. “Отец! Thank you but you didn’t have to.”

Viggo’s smile grew wider, noticing the way John seemed to squirm. They both knew what was happening. Every “gift” the mob boss gave to the assassin and his daughter was another nail in the coffin for John. He’d be indebted to Tarasov family forever. “Like I said, anything for my daughter and son-in-law. Now let’s get the boring stuff out of the way so we can get the party started.”

The couple smiled nervously at the mob boss, each taking a seat at the table where several documents had been laid out. They signed the standard marriage documents quickly but when it came to the mob’s documents, they took longer. John meticulously read over each one, looking mildly conflicted before signing each one. No one spoke as they progressed through the mountain of papers. Each one slid over to the bride was only there for enough time for her to sign, before either John or the lawyer took it away from her. Once she was done, her bridesmaid was let into the room, ushering her back to the bridal suite while the men continued to sign documents and make snide comments.

Eventually the couple was reunited in order to enter their reception and have their first dance. “Sorry about the lifetime of mind games you’re about to endure,” Y/N murmured.

John kept his face stern, observing his wife’s entire family over her head. “Don’t apologize, I’ve been playing these games all my life.”

She just let out a soft hum as her husband spun her around the dance floor. “What was on those documents no one would let me read? You can tell me, I’ve handled more unsavory deals for my father.”

John considered her words. “It was mostly just stuff about my loyalty to the Tarasovs. Those contracts are air tight. We can never get divorced.”

“Oh,” was all she said. Her response hung in the air between them like a wedge. In their very brief time together, Y/N had decided she didn’t want to divorce John. She thought he felt the same based on their earlier conversation but she must have misinterpreted.

“They also tried to sneak in a clause about producing an heir,” he added casually.

“What?” she said, her voice louder than intended. She also froze where she stood, completely taken aback by the news. But John tugged her along the dance floor anyways, trying to cover up her slight blunder.

“Relax,” he urged, feeling how tense she had become. “I had them take it out once you left.” The bride relaxed slightly, relieved. “It said we had to have a child each year until we had a son but I made them remove any mention of us having a child.”

She shuddered at the thought of being so carefully watched but was extremely grateful for John’s protection. “Thanks for that. I… uh…” she didn’t even know what to say. She didn’t want to have a baby so young. She especially didn’t want to be forced to have one every year until she had a boy. What was this? the 15th century?

“Don’t worry about it,” he told her as the song ended.

There were a few cheers from the crowd as the couple walked over to their table before being served. Despite spending practically the whole night in their seats, they hardly ate. The bride was having her attention constantly pulled towards other relatives while the groom was keeping a constant eye out for any threats. This was supposed to be his now family, he had worked with them for years. But given the amount of paperwork he just had to sign, Viggo Tarasov didn’t trust him and in return, John didn’t trust his father-in-law one bit.

Eventually the couple was able to retire to their suite for the night, both giving them a chance to breathe and to answer the most awkward question of the night: would they consummate their marriage?

As John opened the door, allowing his wife to step in, she froze as soon as she entered. The room was lavish. There was a gold dish piled with strawberries next to a bottle of iced champagne. Rose petals and candles littered the room, surrounding the plush looking bed that had rose petals forming a heart. But most horrifyingly, there was a set of white lingerie in the center of the heart. But before she could do anything about it, John was snatching the lace up, tossing it to the other side of the room.

“I’m sorry, I told them not to do all of this,” he apologized, turning to his wife.

She just wrapped her arms around herself, feeling incredibly vulnerable. “Guess they still really want us to have a son,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Her husband gave her a smile, going over to grab their bags that had been placed by the door. “You can take the bed, I’ll take the floor,” he offered.

“No, I can’t ask you to do that,” she insisted, feeling bad. “The bed is more than big enough. We can share. No strings attached,” she offered.

He nodded before grabbing some things out of his bag and locking himself into the en-suite bathroom. She immediately took the opportunity mess up the petals on the bed before turning on the tv to have some background noise. Seeing as John was in the bathroom and she was beginning to get uncomfortable in the dress, she went to her bag to grab the pajamas she had packed. But instead was met by even more lingerie having replaced the comfy sweatpants and tshirt she packed. She let out a frustrated groan. What did they expect her to wear tomorrow if they had taken all her clothes? Grabbing her phone from out of her bag, she frustratedly called her cousin who acted as her maid of honor.

“Caterina,” she whisper-yelled through the phone, “where the hell are all my clothes.”

A few giggles could be heard over the phone and she had a feeling she was on speaker phone with all the other bridesmaids too. “So I see you thought you could get away with not making love to your husband tonight,” Caterina teased.

“How-,” she disregarded her own question. “Gross, don’t phrase it that way.”

“Well it’s true. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Second, you wouldn’t even know your clothes were missing if you hadn’t disregarded the bridal set on the bed.”

“Well what am I supposed to wear tomorrow then? Did you even consider that?”

“Yes I did,” she stated smugly. “Your clothes will be delivered in the morning but in the meantime try on a few sets.” More giggles came over the phone.

“I hate you,” the embarrassed bride said before hanging up the phone.

She turned, trying to work up the nerve to ask her husband to borrow some clothes when the door to the bathroom swung open. He was now dressed in only a white tank top still tucked into his tux pants. In his hand was a pile of folded clothes which he held out to her before placing them on the bed. “I heard your conversation,” he explained.

“Thanks,” she said, relieved. “Just one thing. Can you… um… help me?” she asked sheepishly, pointing to the back of her dress. It was held in place by several buttons running down her back and it had taken two of her bridesmaids buttoning to get it on in a timely manner.

“Sure,” he said, stepping closer as she turned around. When she moved to pull her hair out of the way, she found her husband’s fingers already doing it for her, ghosting over her neck before returning to her back. She thanked him again as his fingers worked intently to unfasten her dress. With each released button, more of her skin was exposed to the assassin’s, allowing his fingers to brush against her bare back, igniting a spark that both felt. But both ignored it as John progressed down until he undid the final button at her lower back.

He stepped back as she turned to face him, clutching the dress to her body. “Thank you,” she said, unsure of what to do. She wasn’t about to drop the dress while he was still there. He just nodded before turning, returning to the bathroom, allowing her to get a peek of the tattoos decorating his back. But before she could make out anything distinct, the bathroom door was closed again. Instead of dwelling on it, she just quickly changed into the shirt he provided. It smelled like cigarettes and cedar—surprisingly comforting. She took a look at the sweatpants he had offered but decided they were too big and wouldn’t be comfortable since she’d be so preoccupied with keeping them on. So instead she just opted to wear one of the many pairs of panties she was given, letting the t-shirt just fall to her mid-thighs.

By the time John came out of the bathroom, showered wearing only a t-shirt and boxers, he found his wife sat on the edge of the bed watching the news. His eyes fell to her exposed legs, the shirt he had leant her riding dangerously high due to her sitting position. He tried his best to ignore it, sitting at the head of the bed but not getting in just yet. Upon feeling the bed dip, his wife turned, giving him a slight smile before getting up and heading into the bathroom. He once again averted his gaze as she walked, the shirt coming up higher with every step. Once she disappeared into the bathroom, John put a gun under his pillow. Just in case.

Soon enough she exited the bathroom, rounding the bed to her side before getting in. John followed suit, slipping under the covers and shutting off the tv. “Goodnight,” he bid before rolling to his side, facing away from her.

“Goodnight,” she bid her husband in return.

Masterlist

#john wick x reader #john wick #keanuverse #keanu reeves #x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #forced marriage #marriage #arranged marriage #au #mob

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Forced Love Masterlist

John Wick x Reader ~ Completed

Summary: Arranged marriages aren't uncommon in the crime world but John Wick never expected to be forced into one with his boss' daughter.

Warning: Minimal use of Y/N, canon level violence, smut, jealous!john, weapons, inaccurate medical descriptions, injuries, mentions of SA, cursing, alcohol, I'm sure some other stuff I'm forgetting.

Main Masterlist

Part I

An awkward meeting leads to an awkward wedding leads to an awkward night.

Part II

The newlyweds get to know each other on their honeymoon.

Part III

After an attack on his wife, John decides he needs to retire. But retired life isn't as safe as he thought it was.

Part IV

John returns to his old life just to finish some business.

Part V

John finishes what his brother-in-law started.

#john wick x reader #john wick #keanuverse #x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #forced marriage #marriage #arranged marriage #au #mob

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

me literally in the middle of writing smut: i should check my march madness bracket

#writing #smut #march madness #basketball #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writer things #writer problems

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

my ability to write/post is based entirely on whether i’m depressed or not

nothing hurts like when an fanfic writer promises a fic only to find out they havent posted in 11 months or their next post is I dont write for that fandom anymore

#sorry #i have so many unfinished wips #my drafts are full #busy -> tired-> depressed pipeline

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Immortal Danger II

Apollo x wife!Reader

Summary: Despite an extravagant wedding, Apollo is still confronted by those who want to end his marriage

Warning: Smut; Ares, Demeter, and Phobos slander; attempted assault; alcohol consumption and mentions of underage drinking; probably some ancient greek wedding inaccuracies

Word Count: 5k

Part 1 | Masterlist

Apparently a wedding in Vegas wasn’t good enough for my mother because I found myself in her green house mansion on Olympus being lectured and listening to her berate Apollo.

“Dem, we’re all adults here,” my husband tried to reason.

“She isn’t even a century old!” Demeter cried in exasperation.

“Twenty-four is considered an adult on earth,” I offered. “Didn’t Persephone run off with Hades when she was seventeen?”

“Oh don’t even get me started on him!” my mother ranted. “What is with you gods and my daughters?” Apollo opened his mouth but she just held a hand up, silencing him. “No! I don’t want to hear all the perverted things you think about her.”

“When did you become such a prude, Dem? My father told me all about your wild days.” If Apollo could die he’d be trapped in Tartarus right now based on the glare she sent him.

“A ‘Vegas’ wedding officiated by a mortal is not a real wedding. I won’t have you two living in sin.”

“Well we’ve been ‘sin-’”

I clamped a hand over Apollo’s mouth, silencing him. “Firstly, with all due respect… Mother, you have the wrong religion there.”

“Well we don’t have set moral codes like Christians do!” she cried. “Urgh you’re both so infuriating. You two are going to have a proper, traditional wedding. You,” she looked pointedly at me, “will be staying here until your wedding because I don’t want you,” she turned her glare to Apollo, “defiling her more than you already have.”

I shared a glance with Apollo who appeared to share my sentiments. “Fine,” I agreed. “As long as the wedding occurs within a month.”

“And after you are married you will stay here. Apollo can visit you but that’s it. No spending nights at his home or going out to sneak around,” Demeter insisted.

“Mother!” I immediately chastised.

“Demeter!” my now fiancé cried simultaneously. “That’s unreasonable. I know you think of her as your baby and you’re afraid you’re going to lose her like Persephone but she’s my wife. She’ll be my wife again. You can’t treat her like an untrustworthy teenager. Besides, you know as well as I do that according to tradition, the marriage isn’t legitimate unless we live together.”

“Well then you may as not get married at all!” Demeter offered sarcastically.

“Mother, it’s not as if I’m disappearing or we’re just fooling around. I love him,” I professed, looking back at Apollo with a smile.

He returned it before standing up to confront my mom. “Y/N’s right, we’re not just fooling around. After all, we’re already married.

She only rolled her eyes before giving a sigh of defeat. “Be ready for the wedding. Hera, Aphrodite, and I will be planning it,” she said with an accusatory finger before disappearing.

~

Two weeks later and my mother had managed to pull together a wedding she deemed acceptable. She had wanted to hold it a century from now but I forced her hand. But in preparations for the wedding, I met all the gods. Except for Ares they were all excited for me. Even Aphrodite who had reprimanded Ares when he got aggressive.

“You know, it’s not too late to join the Hunt,” Artemis offered again as she braided my hair back for the wedding. Ever since we met she has been trying to convince me to dump her brother and swear him and all other men off for forever.

“Artemis!” Aphrodite whined from across the room. “Stop putting ideas in her head. Why do you hate true love?”

“Don’t you have a husband that isn’t Ares?” Artemis quipped.

“That’s different,” she claimed, standing up from the sofa she was lounging on. “That was not true love.”

“And don’t you have dozens of children that are neither Hephaestus’ nor Ares’?”

“Ugh what do you know?” Aphrodite scoffed. She stood on front of me, stooping down to make eye contact. “Y/N, don’t listen to her. You and Apollo are meant to be, I know it. And running around in the woods for eternity won’t bring you joy. Do you really want to camp with a bunch of 12 year old girls for the rest of eternity? It’d be like… well… being stuck at Camp Half-Blood for all eternity.”

I chuckled, appreciating both the goddesses’ efforts. “Thanks for the assurance Aphrodite and thanks for the offer Artemis. If he pisses me off enough in like 500 years then I may take you up on your offer.”

Hera then entered wearing a traditional chiton. “Today’s the gamos!” she said excitedly as she entered. She seemed shockingly excited considering I was marrying her husband’s bastard. “Aphrodite, put a beauty charm on her and then get her in her dress.” She then left after barking orders much like my mother.

Both goddesses complied and soon enough I was dressed in an extravagant chiton, decorated in gold, and with a lace veil over my face. They led me to an enormous dining hall decorated in white and gold, the gorgeous ceiling enchanted to reflect the sky outside, depicting the stars and the moon. As I was looking around in awe, I caught Apollo’s smile. Upon noticing my attention was directed at him, he raised his glass to me which I recognized as his attempt to compliment me.

According to Athenian tradition, the bride wasn’t supposed to have contact with the groom until the unveiling ceremony but there was a feast beforehand.

I was sat where Apollo couldn’t see me so I was fortunately allowed to eat. On my plate was a square of ambrosia and with just a wave of my hand it turned into a proper wedding dish.

As I was chatting with Artemis and some of her hunters—who wanted to sit as far from the male guests as possible—Hera and Demeter came flitting up next to me. “It’s time for the unveiling ceremony!” Hera gushed.

“It’s not too late to back out,” Demeter offered again. “You don’t have to swear things off with Apollo but you can at least postpone,” she pleaded hopefully.

I looked up at her sympathetically. I knew she just wanted to have her daughter to herself but I couldn’t help but be reminded of the half-blood daughters that were never this important to her. “Mother, I want this,” I informed her earnestly again. “I love Apollo and he loves me too. I’m ready to begin my immortal life with him.”

“Demeter, I know there are a lot of feelings here but we have to go,” Hera tried to calm her sister before flipping the veil back over my head and ushering me from my seat. I complied until I reached the grand entrance of the hall. Stood in the doorway was Apollo also in a traditional chiton. Just past him, awaiting us outside was the chariot that would take us to his home.

I stepped up closer to him, smiling up at him as he beamed down at me. He literally was the sun personified and I couldn’t wait to spend eternity with him.

If there were any formal rituals associated with the unveiling ceremony they had either been long since forgotten or Apollo didn’t care because he took a more modern approach. After a whispered, “I love you,” he took the veil and flipped it over my head before gently placing one hand on my jaw, the other on my waist before kissing me deeply. Much like modern Christian ceremonies.

Although, the kiss wasn’t very Christian as it was deep and passionate and Apollo seemed reluctant to end it. Every time he pulled away slightly it was just to connect our lips deeper again. He only pulled away when a shout came from Hermes. “You’re not in your bedchambers yet!”

Apollo pulled away with a laugh while I flushed with embarrassment. Upon noticing me, he pulled me closer with a laugh whilst I buried my face in his shoulder. I could feel his deep, joyful laugh as he turned to address the room. “The sun may be up a lot later tomorrow morning!” he announced to the room.

I groaned against his shoulder, pushing him towards the chariot. As he stepped away from me, he grabbed my hand. He helped me up onto the chariot before stepping up himself. As soon as he was stood firmly behind me, I urged the horses forward.

As we proceeded out, all of our guests appeared along the path all the way to Apollo’s home. Used to all the praise and attention, Apollo waved to other other deities as they cheered us on, with me tucked under his arm trying not to fall out of the chariot.

As we reached the grand entrance of the mansion, we finally had some privacy. The sun god helped me down from the chariot again, before sweeping me off my feet. “And now, we will enter our home, cementing our marriage,” he explained with a smile.

I giggled, wrapping my arms around his neck as he carried me through the magically opened doors. He didn’t even bother to pretend to want to celebrate that we were married now, he immediately carried me up towards the bedroom. “You’re going to hate your mother for not letting me see you for two weeks because tonight I’m making up for not fucking you for that time,” he explained eagerly.

As he went the doors opened automatically until he was placing me on the middle of the bed. He followed, kneeling on the bed with a leg on either side of my hips, looking down at me. I began unfastening the bindings of my chiton but Apollo just snapped his fingers and I was in white lingerie. Before I could comprehend what happened, he tore the bralette off of me as his lips found mine. As he kissed me, I could feel his warm hands on my breasts, fondling them and teasing my nipples.

Soon enough his lips were leaving mine and trailing down my neck and chest until one of my nipples was in his mouth. I let out a soft moan as I felt his tongue swirl around me. He moved to the other breast, simultaneously sliding his other hand to my panties which I now realized were entirely lace as there was virtually nothing in between his fingers and my pussy.

As his thumb found my clit and his mouth continued the assault on my breasts, I could only let out cries of pleasure. My hands found his back as I dug my nails into his skin, trying to ground myself. But one hand overstimulating my clit, the other rubbing circles around my nipple, and the other nipple still being tortured by his mouth was too much and my panties became even more soaked as I climaxed.

Upon feeling my entire body seize, Apollo pulled away from me with a satisfied smile. I stared up at him in slight wonderment. I never orgasmed that fast, I would have thought that I’d be less sensitive as a goddess. Seeing my surprise, Apollo explained with a laugh. “Now that we’re both immortal and married we’re more in tune with each other,” he explained. “It’s like our bodies are made for each other. They just react more to each other than when you were mortal.”

“So you feel it more too?” I asked. He nodded. “Good,” I smiled. I snapped my fingers and all of a sudden his chiton was gone and he was naked. Before he could react, I had pushed him to lay on the bed, my body on top of his. Much like what he had done to me prior, I gave him a brief yet deep kiss before lowering my head to his already erect cock. I met his eager gaze, holding eye contact as I grasped his cock. Stroking it a bit, I brought my mouth down on it while still maintaining eye contact. I felt his entire body shiver as I wrapped my lips around the sensitive head that was already leaking precum.

I licked at the sensitive head ever so slightly, bringing my mouth up and down his shaft the littlest bit, teasing him. But as I reached the very end of his cock, acting as if I was about to pull away, his hand shot out to my head, keeping me in place. Looking up, I found his face contorted in pleasure, the hand not tangled in my hair was gripping the sheets. “Don’t stop,” he said in a strained voice. I complied, continuing my assault on his cock. As a goddess, I no longer had to worry about a gag reflex so I could take his entire cock in my mouth, something he deeply appreciated judging by his deep groans.

I tried to keep going until he came in my mouth but his grip on my hair pulled me away. “No!” he grunted out. “I wanna cum inside you first.” He immediately flipped us so now he was on top of me but my head was nearly hanging off the foot of the bed, ripping off my lace panties in the process. He stared down hungrily at my cunt, licking his lips like a starved man. Rather than fuck me like I thought he was going to, he brought his mouth to my core. Upon feeling his mouth wrap around my core, tongue prodding at my clit, I let out more of a yell than a moan. I was so sensitive from the previous orgasm, I came directly in his mouth this time. But rather than stop there, he kept going. His tongue made its way inside my clenching hole, swirling around, making me see stars.

I was squirming around so much his hands had locked around my hips, immobilizing me. All I could do was beg him to stop as he assaulted my cunt until he finally pulled away after one more release. “I need you inside me,” I begged him as he raised himself to his knees. He smiled, eagerly complying. He pulled my hips up until they were flush with his. I brought my legs up as he did so, resting them on his shoulders as he slowly pushed inside of me.

I screamed so loudly in pleasure you’d think I was being murdered. Gods I was so sensitive from the previous orgasms and our newfound connection.

Once he was fully in me I could feel his cock twitching inside of me and I knew what that meant. He had never cum this fast but then again, never had I either. I rolled my hips into his, wanted him to feel the same pleasure I had and I could immediately feel him spill inside of me. Which made me cum around his cock, milking everything out of him.

But he didn’t pull out or soften inside of me. That was the nice thing about gods, there was no refractory period. As soon as he stopped cumming, his hips were moving again, fucking me.

I quickly became a babbling mess as he continued to fuck me through numerous orgasms each. He had me bent over, riding him, under him, every position imaginable. Sometimes he was rough, other times more gentle and loving. No matter what we did I loved every moment of it.

He only stopped when he had to go get the sun chariot ready. Despite the fact that I didn’t need to sleep anymore, I immediately passed out as soon as he left.

~

Apollo’s lips on my neck were the only things that pulled me out of the inviting grasp of sleep. I let out a groan so he knew that I was awake.

“‘Morning,” he greeted in my ear. “So today is called epaulia, it’s when everyone comes to congratulate us and bring gifts,” he explained through kisses. “I can tell them that you’re not feeling up to it today if you want. I know you’re new to immortality and last night was a lot.” I could feel his smug grin against the skin of my jaw. “But, if you choose not to see anyone then I’m warning you that you’re not leaving this bed.”

I finally peeled my eyes fully open. Fortunately the blinds around the bed had been drawn so I wasn’t blinded. I rolled over, meeting his gaze. “I know I’m immortal and as much as I would love to spend the entire day in bed with you, I think I might actually die of exhaustion if you do that to me.” A grin appeared on his face as his fingers found their way in between my legs. “Apollo,” I moaned, tossing my head back as his fingers assaulted my still puffy and throbbing clit.

“Okay,” he agreed, as if he weren’t fingering me right now. “I’ll tell them they can come over once I’m done.” He continued, his fingers fucking me to the edge of an orgasm. But before I could finish, a gong rang through the home. I jumped and Apollo pulled away. “Oh shit, I guess they came anyways.” He pressed a kiss to my cheek before jumping out of bed. “I’ll talk to them while you get dressed. Technically today is about you since epaulia is supposed to make the bride more comfortable.” I just stared at him, still a little bit flabbergasted before he disappeared.

After a minute of calming myself down, I got up. Going to the vanity I found my messy appearance. Fortunately I could just give myself a beauty charm, something Aphrodite taught me, and I looked like I hadn’t spent the night being fucked within an inch of my life. I summoned a white slip dress that was still modest enough to be worn in front of my family.

With one last look in the mirror I headed downstairs, finding several goods and goddesses standing in the foyer. As soon as they noticed my presence, several of the goddesses came flocking over to me. They were all asking about last night—questions I wouldn’t be answering considering I hardly knew them—and shoving gifts in my hands.

Seeing as I didn’t have enough hands, they all herded me towards the kitchen, lining the counters with their gifts. Eventually Apollo made his way towards me, throwing an arm around my shoulder. He addressed the crowd with ease, telling them thanks but not to crowd me. His confidence was baffling but I guess when you’ve spent centuries being adored it comes easily.

Aphrodite pushed her way through the crowd, Ares standing behind her with a glare. I retreated further into Apollo’s embrace, remembering how he was trying to kill me just two weeks ago. “Open my present,” Aphrodite gushed, oblivious to her lover’s glare.

Shaking off Ares’ intimidation, I took the pink box in my hand. “Aphrodite, do I want to open this in front of everyone?” I asked, my eyes flickering across the room of mostly strangers and meeting my mother’s scowl.

“Yes, it’s fine!” she insisted. “It’s just perfume.” I opened it reluctantly, knowing that her perfumes were love potions. I pulled it out of the box, the label informing me that it would make me irresistible.

A few other visitors presented their gifts. I was delighted by the plants that Athena, Artemis, and a few nymphs gave me. There were a few lingerie sets that I didn’t take out of the boxes and bags. As well as a few other home goods.

By the time I had gotten through the mountain of gifts, someone had pulled out the alcoholic nectar. Aphrodite quickly pushed a champagne flute of it into my hands. “Have you ever drank, Y/N?” she asked. “You were at camp a long time.”

“Um, once when I was 15 before I became a year-round camper,” I explained. “My boyfriend at the time and I-”

“Your boyfriend?” Apollo demanded in surprise, having never left my side.

“You knew about him!” I defended. “We only made out a couple times.”

“Still,” he huffed.

“I know your children. I grew up with some of them,” I pointed out.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Yeah whatever,” he said with a pout before breaking out in a smile. “Hey, I’m gonna go talk to Hermes,” he informed, pressing a kiss to my temple. He then looked at Aphrodite. “Please don’t let her get too drunk,” he requested. “There’s a difference between mortal alcohol and god alcohol. Even Dionysus has made a fool of himself off of this stuff.”

“Don’t worry,” Aphrodite assured. “I’ll take care of her.”

He gave her an uneasy look but I just pushed him to go. “Go have fun. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” he said reluctantly. “I love you,” he told me before disappearing into the crowd.

I looked back at Aphrodite and she was immediately waving her hand, shots appearing on the counter. “Oh we’re getting you wasted tonight,” she laughed. I laughed with her, grabbing a shot off the counter.

“To love,” I toasted with her as she grabbed a glass.

~~

Apollo and several other gods were in the den, talking with an American football game playing when Hermes came in. “Apollo!” he called across the room, obviously a little drunk. “Your wife is fun!” he slurred.

By now all the men were looking at him. Apollo stood up, going to his friend. “What do you mean, bud?” he asked.

“Well I was going to get some food but I ended up doing shots with Y/N,” he explained enthusiastically. A few chuckles erupted from the room. New immortals were rare but when they got inebriated the first time it was always funny. “That girl can drink.”

Apollo chuckled nervously, directing his friend to the couch before going back out to the main room. Stepping into the main living space, he found Artemis with her on the couch, trying to force ambrosia into her mouth.

“Y/N, you have to either eat or I’ll force you to throw up,” he heard Artemis threaten.

“Thanks ‘Mis,” he interrupted, taking a seat on the other side of his wife. “I’ve got it from here.” His twin nodded before standing up and disappearing into the crowd.

His wife looked at him with a smile. “Sorry I got drunk,” she giggled. Apollo couldn’t help but smile. She was cute like this.

“It’s ok, I don’t blame you. Aphrodite was supposed to watch you.”

“She did this to me.”

“Yeah, well, you need to sober up a bit before you rejoin the party,” he said, taking her hand. She followed him up into a standing position but immediately tripped over herself. Catching her, Apollo held her close to help her keep her balance. “Let’s try this,” he said, before transporting them to their bedroom.

He managed to get her to the bed, sitting her down on it. Out of nowhere she gasped. “You’re trying to take advantage of a drunk girl!” she immediately erupted into giggles.

He smiled, joining her laugh. “No, you’re gonna sleep off the shots.” She huffed but agreed anyways. Apollo thanked her for her cooperation. “I’ll be downstairs. Call me if you need anything,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek before going back downstairs.

~~

I laid back on the bed, staring up at the windows above me. Despite the fact that there were still no clouds in the sky, it looked like it was moving. My head seemed to swim and it was as if my body was mortal again. I felt so weak now.

Just before I found the strength to roll over and go to sleep, I head the bedroom door open. “Apollo?” I called, assuming it was him. When I got no response I sat up, finding a vaguely familiar figure coming up the stairs. My vision was too hazy to see his face distinctly.

“Hey, Y/N,” the voice came.

As the figure got closer I could finally make out his face. “Phobos?” I guessed.

He smiled. “You remember me and you’re not screaming in terror,” he chuckled. I shrugged awkwardly. He sighed, sitting on the bed next to me. “Listen, uh, I'm sorry about trying to kill you. Father’s orders, y’know?”

“Uh, sure,” I agreed.

“I was hoping you could forgive me,” he requested. He kept moving his head to look into my eyes, as if willing me to agree. Fortunately for me, my vision was going in and out of focus too much for it to have any affect.

“Yeah, we could be friends,” I slurred excitedly.

“Well, I was uh… hoping we could be more than friends,” he said nervously. Before I could ask him what he meant, his lips were on mine. His hands locked onto my jaw and neck, holding me in place as I struggled.

As he tried to lay me down on the bed, I slipped out of his grasp. Literally falling onto the floor. I tried to crawl away but he was straddling my hips, pinning me down in a second. “Apollo!” I yelled, tears streaming down my face in fear.

Before I could yell again, Apollo’s face was in front of me. As if it had replaced Phobos’. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Apollo’s voice came but it sounded hollow. “It’s just me,” he assured. His lips found my neck, hand trailing up my body.

“No!” I cried. “I don’t wanna right now. I feel weird.”

“You’ll feel better,” he assured, continuing to touch me.

“Phobos!” I yelled, pushing him away, or trying to at least. “Apollo wouldn’t do this to me!” I insisted, recalling all the times when I told him I didn’t want to do anything and he backed off. “Apollo!” I screamed again, hoping he’d hear me over the talking and music.

I cried harder as his hands found the neckline of my dress. But before he could work the garment off of me, there was a flash of light and a yell. “What in Tartarus are you doing, Phobos?!” Apollo’s enraged yell came. The god on top of me immediately changed back to his original form as Apollo yanked him away.

The vague forms of other gods appeared as Apollo was still holding Phobos. A girl I recognized as Athena came rushing over to my side, making sure I was ok. “What happened?” she asked.

It was hard to explain through the alcohol and the tears but I told them about how he came up and started trying to assault me.

“It’s not like that!” Phobos insisted. “Ares told me I should try to get with her.”

“Why?” Zeus’ booming voice demanded from his son and grandson. No one answered. “Tell me or Hecate will be administering truth serums.”

An angry voice belonging to Ares answered reluctantly. “I thought that if Y/N cheated on Apollo she'd leave him for Phobos and then he’d be devastated that my son stole his wife.” There were a few murmurs and I could vaguely hear Aphrodite reprimand him. “But I didn’t tell him to force himself on her.”

Apollo started yelling, causing some of the others to start yelling until Zeus silenced them. “Enough! Ares and Phobos, you’re coming with me. Apollo, take care of your wife. Y/N,” I think I vaguely looked in his direction, “I'm sorry your epaulia was ruined and this happened to you. Everyone else out of Apollo’s home!” he yelled to the rest of the house. There were a few groans and disagreements but within a few minutes everyone had disappeared, leaving just me, my husband, and mother.

“C’mon,” he said, picking me up off the floor. I curled into him as he carried me to the bed.

Meanwhile my mother was still there, arms crossed and tapping her foot like a cartoon. “See I knew something like this would happen.”

“Dem, can we not do this now?” Apollo asked as he placed me on the bed.

“You can’t even protect her!” she continued anyways. “You knew she was vulnerable but were too busy with your friends. I knew you weren’t capable of being a husband.”

“Hey-” Apollo began.

“And you!” Demeter continued anyway. She appeared in my still hazy vision. “Getting that drunk at your own epaulia? What were you thinking? He wouldn’t have tried to force himself on you if you hadn’t been so irresponsible.”

“That’s enough, Demeter!” my husband yelled at her. “You’ve been nothing but critical ever since you found out about us. But we’re married, twice now. You can’t change that. And are you seriously blaming her for what just happened? You of all people should be sympathetic and be glad I got there when I did.”

I could hear Demeter’s huff. “Well she wouldn’t have been in danger in the first place if you never got involved.” Then there was a flash of light and she was gone.

Apollo’s sigh came before he settled down on the bed with me. “I’m so sorry that happened,” he stated, pulling me tightly into his chest. “I never should have left you alone.”

“‘S ok,” I consoled, still slurring my words. “Not your fault.”

“I love you so much,” he said, hugging me impossibly tighter. “I swear that nothing like that will ever happen again.”

Part 1 | Masterlist

#apollo #apollo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #greek god x reader #greek gods #greek myths #greek mythology x reader #x reader #sun #sun god x reader #sun god

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Moving on to You

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: Aaron finally tells his longtime crush about his feelings when he almost loses her (Sequel to Move On)

Warning: jealousy, pining, awkward dates, canon level violence, non-accurate medical stuff

Word Count: 4.5K

Masterlist

A/N I've had this in my drafts for months and I finally decided to finish and publish it per request

Aaron Hotchner is the definition of levelheaded. He’s renowned in the FBI not only for his success rate at catching criminals but also for his professionalism. And snapping a pencil with his fist whilst staring at his subordinate through his office window as she smiled up at an unknown agent was incredibly unprofessional. He knew this wasn’t the first man she had gotten to know over the past year but this was the first time he was forced to actually witness her flirting with another man.

He knew he had no right to be jealous, their relationship had never progressed beyond friendly in the year that Y/N had been on the team. Still he couldn’t help but feel the slight clench of pain in his chest every time he saw her smile at her phone or overheard one of her conversations with another team member about a new guy.

Nonetheless his professionalism prevailed as he began to review potential cases. He noted one regarding a serial killer just outside of DC, setting it aside to pass onto Garcia.

~

The next morning the team was assembled in the conference room as Penelope relayed the information about a killer who had been targeting strippers. Although Aaron’s attention was on Y/N as he observed her clearly exhausted body language. Probably a date night with that agent, he thought cynically.

Soon enough Penelope was done speaking. “We’ll head out in 30. Meet in the garage then,” he ordered as the rest of the team. He was headed out towards his office when he stopped as he heard Morgan’s voice.

“Up late with the new boy toy?” Derek teased.

“I guess you could say that,” Y/N answered casually. “I’m not seeing him anymore.”

“Wait why?” JJ asked suddenly. Similar to what Aaron wanted to ask.

He was still turned away from the group but Aaron could practically hear Y/N’s shrug. “Just weren’t clicking anymore.”

“What was he into something weird? Like a foot fetish?” Derek asked with full seriousness.

Y/N laughed. “I’m not answering that.”

“So he was!” Derek shouted as she passed Aaron down to the bullpen.

The rest filed out of the conference room as Aaron continued to pretend to be busy with the file. “She’s single again,” Rossi sung quietly.

“I am aware and I don’t see how that affects me,” Aaron tried to deflect.

“Oh come on, I see the way you watch her. I also noticed a broken pencil in your trash can. Did you Hulk-out when you saw her with that agent yesterday?”

“Wait why were you in my office?”

“Doesn’t matter. The point is she’s single, you’re single, and you’ve been in love with her for the past year-”

“No I haven’t,” Aaron suddenly cut in, sounding like a teenage girl. He cleared his throat. “I’m not in love with her. Besides she’s my subordinate-”

“And you don’t want anyone to think she’s on the team for the wrong reason blah, blah, blah,” Rossi finished. “You said that a year ago. Besides, at this point, no one would think that. You deserve to be happy, Aaron. Get out there and get the girl!”

With those words Dave left, leaving Aaron in his thoughts. Could they actually be together? Would she even want him?

He pushed those thoughts aside, getting ready to head out with the rest of his team. Including the girl who consumed his every thought.

~

“I’m SSA Hotchner, these are SSAs Jareau, Morgan, Rossi, L/N, Prentiss, and Dr. Reid,” Aaron introduced his team to the town’s sheriff.

“We appreciate you guys coming so fast. The people here aren’t used to this type of crime,” Sheriff Osborne explained, leading the feds through the police station.

Aaron tried to listen to the sheriff’s information but rather he was keenly aware of all the police officers stares. Pushing through it, the agents followed the sheriff into a conference room that would serve as their setup.

“Alright, JJ and Reid, head to the medical examiner. We need to figure out what exactly he’s doing to these girls. Morgan and I will go to the clubs these girls were working, see if there was anyone who stuck out to the other dancers. Rossi and Prentiss, head to the most recent crime scene. L/N, I want you to work on the geographical profile,” Aaron ordered.

That last order raised an eyebrow for everyone on the team. “But… Reid usually does the geographical profile,” Y/N suggested gently, a confused twinge in her voice.

“Yes, well since it seems you can’t stop talking about your personal life I figured it’d be best if you work alone for a little while.” The second those words left Aaron’s mouth he instantly regretted them. Y/N looked taken aback by his rude words but having never questioned his authority she just lowered her gaze to the ground. Looking around the other members of his team looked aghast at his words too. Aaron’s soft spot for the newest agent had been noticed by everyone on the team (except of course the agent in question) so seeing him be so outrightly rude was jarring. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, especially not humiliate her in front of the team, but he was so frustrated having to hear the others question Y/N on her love life around the office and in the car.

Seeing that he shouldn’t continue barking orders, Aaron turned to exit the room, the rest following. Unseen by him was every member of the team giving Y/N sympathetic looks.

Once buckled inside their SUV, Morgan began to question his boss. “What was that with L/N back there? We all talk about our personal lives all the time and it’s never affected our work, Y/N included.”

Aaron sighed, really not having a good reason for his outburst. “She brought that agent into our office unauthorized. He shouldn’t have even had access to our floor.”

“So you yell at her a day later in front of an entire precinct?”

“Morgan, drop it,” Aaron said sternly, not wanting to continue this. Seeing as there was no point in continuing, Derek kept his mouth shut but the ride to the club was tense the rest of the way.

~

“Hey, sorry about your boss,” a voice interrupted Y/N’s intense concentration on the map in front of her. She whipped her head around to look at him, a little startled. Seeing her alarm the young officer took a step back. “Didn’t mean to scare you, just thought you might like some coffee.”

“Hmm? Oh! Thanks,” she said, her brain catching up to his words. She took the coffee gratefully, taking a sip. It was made wrong but not wanting to seem ungrateful she gave the officer a smile.

“Thought you could use it after your boss treated you so badly,” the officer empathized.

Y/N sucked in a breath. “You saw that, huh?”

“I think everyone saw it,” the officer chuckled awkwardly. “I’m Officer Olson, but you can call me Cole.” Y/N took a second to observe the man. He wasn’t necessarily her type, her having a thing for the dark, brooding types, but he was certainly attractive.

“Agent Y/N L/N,” she introduced.

“So what are you working on, Agent Y/N L/N?” he asked, saying her name flirtatiously.

She let out a small laugh at his tone. “Um it’s called a geographical profile. We take every significant location like homes, workplaces, abduction sights, crime scene, disposal sights, etc. to get an idea of these killers comfort zones. Which often leads us to where they will either strike next, where they live or work, or what their holding place might be in cases where victims are abducted.”

“Wow, this profiling stuff is crazy. I’ve heard you guys can tell someone’s entire life story from just one look,” he teased.

“I don’t know about that but yeah, you can learn a lot about a person from just a conversation if you pay close attention.”

“What can you tell about me?”

Y/N looked him up and down. His body language screamed that he was interested in her but she didn’t want to embarrass him too much. “You have the confidence of a youngest son and let me guess, you were in a frat in college?” The officer blushed, surprised she sussed that out so quickly. “You’re here as an officer for glory and you got it, the people here already admire you. You actually got the chance to move onto something bigger, probably DC, but it’s easier to stand out in your small hometown.” Cole just stared at the pretty FBI agent, slightly mortified that she saw through him so clearly. His first instinct was deny it but something about her made him think twice. She just smirked at his silence. “Gotcha.”

Before Officer Olson could say anything, two other FBI agents walked into the room. “Careful L/N,” Rossi interrupted the pair, “Hotch was pulling up as we walked in.”

“Guess I better go,” Cole said sheepishly. “Nice to meet you Agent Y/N.” She couldn’t help the smile that found it’s way onto her face at the use of her title and first name.

“Damn, already moving onto a different guy?” Emily asked with a chuckle.

“No, he just came in and introduced himself,” Y/N brushed off. Emily and Rossi both just hummed in disagreement.

As the BAU chief walked in he didn’t notice the burning gaze of Officer Olson. What he did notice was the way Y/N seemed to shy away from his very presence. As he stepped into the conference room his heart clenched when she met his gaze but just turned away, busying herself with the board that showed the geographical profile.

~

After a fitful night of regret, Aaron decided to apologize to his young agent in the morning. But as he opened his door to his crappy motel room into the crappy hallway he could hear two voices.

“Thought I’d bring you some coffee that didn’t come from an old police station coffee pot,” a masculine voice flirted.

“Thank you,” came the giggle from Y/N. Aaron practically groaned to himself. This couldn’t be happening again.

“I was wondering… if you’re not too busy,” the voice changed, gaining a nervous lilt, “if you’d like to get dinner with me on a slower night before you and your team leave? I know you’re actively chasing a serial killer so it doesn’t have to be fancy.” The voice seemed to have caught themselves, changing their pitch. “O-or it can be really fancy! Whatever you want! I’m not picky I-”

“I’d love to have dinner with you,” Y/N’s calming voice interrupted, putting the boy out of his misery. “We can do tonight. Just grab something easy and nearby.”

“Ye- yeah, I’d like that.” Aaron internally rolled his eyes at being able to hear the bright smile in this guy’s voice. “I’ll uh see you then.”

“See you later.” Aaron sighed internally, hearing the door to Y/N’s room close softly. She had been single for what? 24hours? And he had still lost his opportunity? Deciding that his emotions were running too high to talk to Y/N right now, he just let his door fall back closed, deciding to just get ready for the day.

~

“When I graduated from the FBI academy I was placed in the Human Resources branch because of my psych degree. Obviously, that wasn’t exactly what I wanted to do so when I heard about an opening in the Behavioral Analysis Unit I jumped at it and fortunately my boss, Hotch, was willing to take a chance on me. Agent Rossi and the rest of the team pretty much taught me everything I know,” Y/N explained as her date stared at her in awe.

“Wow, that’s quite the resume you have,” he chuckled nervously, taking a sip of his drink. “I’ll admit it’s been a long time since I went on a date where the girl’s career was more impressive.” Y/N quirked her eyebrow at that but didn’t say anything. “Not that it’s an issue, just not a lot going on around here.”

She just hummed looking down at her food. She tried to covertly push away the peas in her food, not wanting to insult Cole’s food choice.

There was an awkward beat of silence between the two that was fortunately broken up by Y/N’s phone ringing. She felt a sense of relief reading her boss’ name flash across the screen. “Hey Hotch,” she answered.

“L/N, where are you?” his stern voice cut to the chase.

“Um, this place called Vincent's with Officer Olson. It’s like 15 minutes from the station. Why?”

Aaron pushed through the reoccurring pang in his chest. “Some other officers cornered our unsub, James Stevens, in a strip club. He’s holding five girls hostage inside.”

“Where is it?”

“125 North St. 5 minutes east of you.”

“I’ll be right over,” Y/N quickly cut in.

“L/N, do not engage before the rest of us get there. Got it?”

“Yeah, I understand,” she agreed begrudgingly. She hung up the phone, already collecting her things. “I have to go, the unsub is holding a group of girls hostage inside a club 5 minutes from here.”

“Oh shit,” Cole exclaimed, grabbing his things and leaving some cash on the table. The pair quickly jumped into their respective cars, lights and sirens blaring as they headed to the club.

As soon as Y/N jumped out of the SUV several officers flocked towards her. “Scene is yours agent, what do you want to do?” Sheriff Osborne asked.

“Any shots fired? Do we have confirmation the girls are alive?”

“Snipers have eyes on three of the girls and we have no reason to believe the other two are dead. Upon entering he fired randomly, killing a few patrons per witnesses. Thing is, when he took control he let every man leave but held all the girls.”

“Okay,” she acknowledged, trying to figure out what her next move would be. Based on the profile she knew he was negotiable but if he felt any sort of threat he’d go down guns blazing, taking down anyone he could. “I’m going in to talk to him.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Cole’s voice suddenly interrupted. He had grabbed Y/N’s arm, looking at her with pleading eyes. She just stared at him, confused before sliding her arm out of his grip.

“Agent, shouldn’t you wait for your team?” The sheriff’s voice interrupted the awkward encounter.

“This guy’s going to get more agitated and unstable the longer we wait. I’m going in now,” she said, pulling the gun out of her waistband and handing it to the sheriff. “And don’t let anyone in there until I call for it. We could lose a lot of lives if we spook this guy.”

The sheriff nodded as she approached the door.

~

“Agent L/N is entering the building,” crackled over the radio as Hotch and the rest of the team raced through the streets.

“What?” Aaron’s mind was going a mile a minute. “Repeat that,” he called over the radio.

“Agent L/N has entered the building to begin negotiations,” the police reporter called over the radio again.

Derek stared at the radio in shock from the passenger seat. “Hotch-” he began, wanting to slam his foot on the gas.

“I know,” he said, already pressing the car to go faster than they had been going previously.

They arrived on scene in record time, Hotch barely taking the time to throw the car in park. He was immediately heading for the door, not bothering to get all the information he would normally wait for, too set on getting the woman he was in love with out. “Stop him!” he heard a sudden shout. Several officers flocked to him in an effort to block his path. Whirling around furiously he found a desperate looking sheriff. “Agent L/N said that if anyone goes in there a lot of lives will be lost. And I’m guessing your agent would be one of them.”

Aaron wanted to pull rank and argue but he knew the sheriff was right but he was desperate to get his agent out of there safely.

“I tried to stop her,” an officer interrupted. Aaron recognized the voice from the hallway. All he could muster was an annoyed look before turning his attention back to the sheriff.

“Do we have a line of communication?”

“Yeah, we have Stevens on the phone. No one’s talked in a while though, we’ve just been listening to your agent try to calm him down.”

Soon enough the BAU chief had the phone. “Agent L/N, exit the building, that’s an order.”

It took a second but he got a shaky, “Not gonna happen, Hotch.”

“L/N-”

“You heard the lady,” a new voice cut him off. James Stevens. “She doesn’t want to leave yet. C’mon, let me keep her for a little while longer?” he pleaded sarcastically. “The pretty girls rarely keep their clothes on nowadays. Agent L/N is a breath of fresh air.”

Aaron clenched his jaw at his words. “We can work something out James.” Covering the microphone he leaned over to one of the officers. “Tell the snipers to take the shot of they get it,” he whispered.

“Come on you know there’s no walking out of this a free man, just let us walk out and we’ll talk this out,” he heard Y/N’s voice. There was a minute of silence and Aaron could only imagine what the psychopath inside was doing. “At least let the girls go. I’ll stay, I’ll be your collateral.”

“Agen-” Aaron immediately began to reprimand.

“Shut up!” James shrieked through the phone so loud Aaron had to pull it away. “Fine,” he heard more quietly. “You five, go! You stay.”

Once again Aaron covered the microphone. “As they’re coming out, go.”

~

All the girls started immediately scrambling up, heading for the door. It happened so fast there was hardly time to register it.

The first girl reached the door, wrenching it open. She was immediately met with a wall of SWAT officers. They pressed inside, guns up as the girls shrieked and scrambled away. “No!” Y/N heard herself shout, going towards them. Mistaking her attempt to salvage the situation as an effort to escape, Stevens was on her in a second.

She felt a sharp pain pierce her abdomen as he tackled her to the ground. She then felt him slump against her before being quickly pushed off, a SWAT officer kneeling over her, calling for a medic.

~

“Agent down, agent down,” Aaron heard the report come over the radio. He was immediately tearing away from the phone, running towards the entrance of the club. But Rossi intercepted him before he could go inside.

“I know, I know, I heard,” Dave tried to calm down his friend. “But EMTs just went in and you don’t need to be in the way.” Aaron began to protest but was cut off again. “I know it’s hard to watch the woman you love be hurt again but Y/N will be fine.”

Before Aaron could continue arguing he caught sight of Y/N being rolled out on a gurney. Dave let him go as he followed the EMTs to the ambulance. But before he could climb in the same officer from earlier ran up. “I-I’m her boyfriend,” he explained as he tried to climb up into the ambulance.

With those words Aaron nearly snapped. Despite his insecurity in his place in Y/N’s life, he knew that was a complete fallacy. She would never move that fast with a complete stranger. “Officer,” he caught the young man’s attention.

Cole visibly paled seeing Y/N’s boss. “A-agent Hotchner.”

Satisfied with the boy’s scared shitless expression, Aaron turned back to the EMT’s. “SSA Aaron Hotchner,” he introduced, pulling out his badge. “This is my agent and I will be accompanying her to the hospital.” And with that, he sent Officer Olson one last glare before climbing in.

Upon entering the ambulance the EMT stepped out, shutting the doors. As he took a seat, he realized his agent was still awake, albeit in agony. “Y/N? I’m right here,” he said, taking her blood soaked hand. Her shirt had been removed, allowing him to see the stab wound that had been tightly wrapped with blood soaked bandages. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault, Aaron,” she said through gritted teeth, her face twisted in pain as they hit a bump in the road. “I’m so cold an-and tired.”

He couldn’t help but notice the way she said his first name. It was refreshing, almost a relief, to hear his name come from her lips. “Hey, no just stay awake for a little while longer. We’re almost to the hospital.” Y/N just nodded, tears of pain and fear running down her cheeks.

“Why’d you come?” she suddenly asked. “I thought you hated me.”

It physically pained Aaron to hear that. “I’m so sorry I’ve been treating you the way I have on this case. I just couldn’t help but…” Aaron hesitated with the next words. He didn’t want to be vulnerable but she deserved the truth. “…be jealous.”

That took Y/N’s mind off of the pain. “Jealous?”

Aaron hung his head. “Yes, I-I’ve had feelings for you ever since you joined. I understand if you want to take some time away after this or even transfer to another team of your choice. I just thought you were owed an explanation for my behavior.”

“Y-you’ve had feelings for me for that long?”

Aaron squeezed her hand again. “Please don’t make me say it,” he asked but inside, he’d humiliate himself a million times to make up for what he did and earn her affection.

“Just this once,” she requested, tears pricking her eyes, whether from pain or emotion. “I need to be sure it’s not the blood loss.”

Aaron sighed softly, admiring her face. “I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you for the last year.”

“I’ve felt the same about you,” she confessed.

“Say it,” Aaron pressed, his other hand now clutching onto their already joined hands.

“I love you, Aaron.”

A smile tugged at Aaron’s lips. He hadn’t realized how much tension had gathered and with Y/N’s confession it all dispersed. Reaching a hand up to her face he cupped her cheek, tangling his fingertips into her hair. “You’re gonna be okay,” Aaron promised. “You have to be okay.” But he could see her eyes slipping closed and he could feel how clammy her skin was. “You gotta stay awake, sweetheart. C’mon.”

“It hurts,” she groaned through half closed lids.

“I know, you’re almost there.”

~

It took a few hours of surgery and another couple days of rest in the hospital but Agent L/N was finally discharged to go home. Unfortunately, she had to have a caretaker for that period of time. Fortunately, her boss/the man who was in love with her, was more than happy to take responsibility for his agent.

“Almost there,” Aaron tried to soothe a very tired and pained Y/N. Taking a few deep breaths, she found the strength to hobble over to her bed with a lot of support from Aaron.

She let out a groan as Aaron helped settle her on the bed. As he gripped her hand, he couldn’t help but see flashes of blood, remembering that night in the ambulance. “I’m gonna grab your bag from the car. Be right back,” Aaron promised with a peck to her lips.

While grabbing her bag was a legitimate excuse, he really just needed a minute to calm himself down. He needed to remember that Y/N was safe, not lying on a surgical table or in the back of an ambulance bleeding out.

He quickly hurried back into her apartment after grabbing her bag, re-entering the bedroom. “Here you are,” Aaron said, leaning the go-bag up against her dresser which was placed next to the bed. “I guess I’ll um let you rest,” he murmured out awkwardly. As much as he’d rather stay over she probably wanted some time to relax. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Aaron,” her voice interrupted him as he turned towards the door. Pivoting on his heel, he looked back at her. “Can you… um… just stick around for a little while? Every time I closed my eyes when I was alone in the hospital all I could see was him.”

That surprised Aaron a bit but it felt as if his entire being melted. She wanted him to protect her?

“Yeah, of course,” he agreed. There was no place in her bedroom to sit so he settled on the end of the bed. “‘M glad you feel safe with me,” he murmured.

“I do,” she confirmed. “You’re like my personal bodyguard,” she said, recalling memories of him barking orders at doctors when she was in pain or when annoying officers came to visit.

“I’m glad,” he smiled. He helped her settle into a lying position before resuming his place at the foot of the bed, regretfully letting out a yawn. After all, being a personal bodyguard was exhausting.

She noticed his yawn and immediately began demanding he lie down too. “You’ve been up helping me for days. Help me by sleeping now, please.”

“I really don’t want to intrude,” Aaron excused. “You don’t need me accidentally hurting you.”

“You won’t,” she swore. “Please. I’ll feel better knowing you’re resting too.”

Sleeping with her did sound nice. An irrational part of him thinking he could keep her nightmares away by doing so. So he complied, sliding under the covers she had pulled back for him. As he settled, she scooted closer to him as much as her surgical wounds would allow. Until she ended up tucked under his arm, head resting on his shoulder.

“Sleep,” he murmured the order, thumb stroking her cheekbone. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Masterlist

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #x reader #bau #bau x reader #hotch #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Mine

Luke Castellan x Reader

Requested by: @officiallenalove like imagine the reader is like a daughter of Poseidon and we know he’s not around most of the time and she meets Luke and they like fall in love but she’s never known what healthy love looks like so it’s low key angsty but happy at the same time yk?

Summary: "You are the best thing that's ever been mine"

Warning: crappy parents, angst, self doubt

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

A/N Sorry this took so long I had a hard time choosing which lyrics/moments I wanted to write

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter

Godly parents were always deadbeats. It was just a fact of half-blood life. But after spending years thinking I had no father, I was thrilled to have been claimed by Poseidon. It was naïve of me to think that just because he claimed me he’d be a good father just because I knew of his existence. I spent night after night praying to him, looking for some sense of guidance from him but never receiving anything. Eventually I learned not to bother with him or anyone else.

My mom had let me down enough times that I knew it wasn’t just gods that let you down. When she finally told me about my father she told me I’d be moving to a strange place. Not for my safety but because she didn’t want to take care of the daughter of the god that broke her heart. She complained endlessly on the drive over that my father never even bothered to offer her immortality, rather last she heard of him he was falling in love with another woman on Long Island.

She was dead to me after she dumped me at camp with hardly a goodbye. And then my father was dead to me when I begged for his help but received nothing.

~

I was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin' / Wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts

Most of the other campers felt the same about their godly parents but it seemed like the only one who really understood was Luke.

“I mean, it’s like we’re nothing to them,” Luke ranted to me. We rant to each other a lot. “We’re just byproducts of their mistakes.”

“Gods, I hate men,” I groaned, lying back in the grass of the green. “Are all fathers this shitty?” I asked, looking up at Luke. I squinted into the sun as I peered at him accusingly. He moved his hand to block the sun from my eyes.

“I wouldn’t know from personal experience but I wouldn’t be this shitty,” he smiled cheekily down at me. He moved to lay back too, resting on his elbow. “I’d never abandon you.”

I could feel my chest tighten and I hoped it wasn’t apparent on my face. I just laughed, gently pushing his chest in a playful manner, hoping I was sparing him any embarrassment by making him think I thought he was joking. “You wish. You’d probably leave once the first diaper change comes.” I couldn’t even begin to consider loving him—or anyone—enough to feel abandoned by him. Thanks to my parents I felt more than enough abandonment.

He gave me a forced laugh as I sat up. “Yeah probably. I’d just be the fun dad.”

~

Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water? / You put your arm around me for the first time

Later that day I found myself sitting on the beach of the Long Island Sound. The ocean was always sort of a sore spot for me because it was just a reminder of my father but it still felt calming. Like I belonged despite my father’s indifference.

As I stared out into the sound, zoning out, I let my mind wander to the conversation I had with Luke. That wasn’t the first time he had tried to hint at his feelings and he was a great guy but I couldn’t trust him. I didn’t have faith that he—or anyone for that matter—wouldn’t just let me down. How could I trust I wouldn’t let him down.

I was interrupted from my thoughts by the man himself. “Hey, can we talk?” he asked, coming to stand next to me. I just wordlessly gestured for him to sit next to me. He complied, taking a few breaths before looking at me. “I’m just gonna come right out and day it: I like you,” he rushed. “You don’t have to like me back or anything but I need to know that you know.”

I stared at him, my mouth agape. I hadn’t expected his boldness. “Um…” I had to take a second to structure my thoughts. “Luke, you’re a great guy. Any girl would be lucky to have you but you don’t want me.”

“Actually, I do I just said it,” he chuckled, trying to release some tension.

I laughed with him. “No, I mean I don’t think I can give you what you want. I’m not the best with feelings and I’m not entirely convinced that you, and everyone else in my life, won’t just leave me when it’s convenient.”

“Hey,” Luke chided gently, throwing an arm over my shoulder to bring me closer, “I meant what I said I'm not gonna abandon you. And if you’re scared, that’s fine, we can take this slow. If you really just don’t want a relationship that’s fine. I’ll still be by your side no matter what.”

Tears pricked my eyes at how thoughtful and caring he was being. Fortunately he couldn’t see them because my head was resting on his shoulder. “Okay,” I agreed, “I want to try taking things slow with you.” His grip on me tightened as he held me a little closer, like he was so excited you just have to squeeze something.

~

Braced myself for the goodbye / 'Cause that's all I've ever known

Things were great for a few months. Every time I began to doubt our relationship, Luke was there to help me. Giving me constant assurances and telling me how much he loved me. So much so that I started to feel like a burden to him. Like I was just a task he had to get through every week.

“Hey,” Luke announced his presence as he entered my cabin, “I haven’t seen you all day, what’s up?” he asked, looking around the cabin.

“J-just a second!” I called from a storage closet. I quickly wiped my tears and steeled myself, willing myself to look normal. Realizing he’d be wondering why I was in the closet, I grabbed a random blanket from one of the shelves. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the closet with a smile. “Hey.”

His face immediately dropped. “What’s wrong?”

Curse my puffy eyes. “Nothing,” I answered. He approached me but I just slid past him, dropping the blanket onto my bunk. “Why?”

“Your eyes are all red. What’s wrong?” he asked again. Once again trying to touch me but I just backed away.

“Must be dust or something in the closet,” I tried to dismiss.

His face hardened. “C’mon, Y/N I know something’s wrong. I don’t want you to hide things from me. I want to take care of you.”

At his words the dam broke and all the thoughts and feelings I had been dealing with bubbled over. “I don't want you to have to take care of me!” A look of hurt appeared on his face and my heart ached for him. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, I do. I just don’t think it’s fair to you to have to comfort me whenever anything little happens. It’s pathetic,” I spat at myself.

“Hey, no, you’re not pathetic,” Luke assured me.

“You’re not listening to me,” I insisted. “How can you possibly want to be with me when I do nothing but drain you?” I stared at him, waiting for him to realize that I was a leech and leave for his own sake. But instead, he just looked endeared.

“Y/N, you are the best thing that’s ever been mine. I don’t want you to ever think that you’re a burden to me. I love you and I love that I'm the one who brings you comfort. So please, just let me love you.”

My resolve broke and I went to him, letting Luke pull me into his chest. “What did I do to deserve you?” I cried into the warmth of his chest.

“I ask myself the same,” he returned, pressing a kiss to my head.

Masterlist

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #the lighting thief #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #x reader #Spotify

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Immortal Danger

Apollo x DaughterofDemeter!Reader

Summary: Apollo marries a half-blood without realizing how dangerous it can be.

Warning: PJO universe but no real PJO plot, (kind of) smut, threats, monsters, Ares slander

Word Count: 4.7K

Masterlist | Part 2

A/N Sam Claflin is my personal headcanon for Apollo and if he isn’t cast for the Titan’s Curse season I’m gonna cry

“Am I even allowed to be here?” I asked as Apollo and I materialized in his home on Mount Olympus.

“Probably not but Demeter’s already gonna be pissed when she finds out we eloped in Vegas,” Apollo smiles, pulling me down onto the couch. I laughed as he did so, taking a chance to look around. I was in awe. The ceiling to the sitting room was just a giant skylight and the sun seemed to perpetually shine through it. There were balconies in the column of the sun, revealing the upper levels of the extravagant manor decorated in gold.

“This place is incredible,” I said in awe.

“Yeah, Annabeth did a great job with the remodel. And it’s all yours,” he swore, his lips brushing against my cheek. “Everything that’s mine is also yours.”

“Really?” I challenged teasingly. “Then can I drive the sun chariot.”

He faltered. “Well… after Thalia, I don’t think-”

“I’m joking,” I assured him. “I don’t want to torch Antarctica. Or make North Africa freeze over.”

“I’ll give you lessons some day,” he promised. “Maybe when you’re a goddess and that human nervousness about dying instinct fades.” I laughed before he sprung up. “C’mon,” he said, pulling me up from the couch. “I wanna show you the bedroom.”

“Very subtle,” I chided him.

“I know,” he agreed with a cocky smile as he began climbing the stairs. “But you’re my wife now.” We went up so many levels I was beginning to get tired but Apollo was already practically dragging me up the stairs. When we went to a set of double doors I thought we were done with the stairs but there was one more flight. I followed him up, eyes widening as I realized his room made up the entire top floor.

There was a circle in the floor covered by glass with a view to the sitting room, allowing the sun to shine through the whole house. But the ceiling of the room itself was a glass dome, flooding the whole room with light. Surprisingly, it wasn’t ridiculously hot but that’s a perk of being the sun god. Several plants grew in various pots around the room—I had a sneaking suspicion he added them recently—and the walls were lined with various weapons, mostly bows and arrows. The bed itself was tucked into a sort of alcove, with pillows lining the edge of it, leaning up against the walls so as to make the whole alcove a soft bed. I noticed curtains hanging in front of the bed to shield it from the rest of the room, as well as a contraption above it against the glass probably to block the light from above.

Apollo came up next to me. “I know you’re a light sleeper so I had the curtains put in to block out the light.”

“This is incredible,” I said in awe. “But uh- do gods sleep?”

“We don’t have to but I love sleeping,” he smiled. “It’s one of the best things humans invented.”

I stepped closer to the bed, reaching down to feel the soft mattress. “Gods, do you know how long it’s been since I slept in a bed that wasn’t a twin size mattress?” I asked. Even though at 24 I was far older than any of the other campers at Camp Half-Blood, I had to stay there as the outside world had become too dangerous for me. Once I turned 22, Chiron finally let me have a room in The Big House because even the oldest campers besides for me were still around 17.

“Well,” Apollo began, getting closer until I was laying down on the mattress and his face was so close to mine I could see the gold flecks in his eyes, “I was thinking we’d consummate our marriage in this bed before sleeping,” he suggested, kissing me.

“I’d be open to that,” I laughed, kissing him back. Using godly strength, he managed to wrap an arm around my waist before pulling me up closer to the middle of the bed so our feet weren’t hanging off. As he kissed me, I could feel his hand find the zipper on the back of my wedding dress. But just as he started to bring it down, there was a bell and a shout.

“Apollo?” a masculine voice called through the house.

Our lips parted, and he rested his forehead on mine with a groan. “I hate him.”

“Who is it?” I asked.

“Hermes. Look, he can’t see you. He and I are cool now but he still can’t see you.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll just stay here.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to my forehead before running downstairs to an incessant Hermes. As he went down the stairs I watched in amazement as his tux transformed into a t-shirt and shorts. Once he left I started looking around the room more, wary of the giant glass circle in the middle of the room. I went up to the weapons, finding various plaques describing what momentous kill each weapon was responsible for. A little bit self obsessed to have in your bedroom but, hey, that’s Apollo.

As the gods moved to the sitting room I could hear them through the glass. “I know you’ve been dating a demigod,” Hermes’ voice came. “Chiron just sent a distress signal about a missing half-blood.”

“So…?” Apollo’s voice came, trying to act nonchalant.

“I’m saying that the girl you’ve been dating is the missing half-blood. Chiron is worried sick because apparently she’s powerful but will attract a lot of monsters. And Ares is still pissed at you for putting an arrow through him during World War I. She could be in danger of him while not under Dionysus’ protection.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, man. I haven’t seen her in a few weeks.”

“I haven’t known you to go even two days without seeing the person you’re dating.” I could hear the accusing tone in Hermes’s voice. And Apollo knew he was backed into a corner.

“Yeah well, dating a half-blood is hard. Chiron and Dionysus have her on lockdown. And do you know what Demeter would do to me? You remember how she lost it when Persephone ran off with Hades. How am I going to explain that I’m dating her half-human daughter?”

“Well you better pray Ares doesn’t find out about her or he’ll probably kill her just to piss you off.” Kill me?

“Look I’m going to have father turn her into a goddess soon anyway. She’ll be fine.”

“You’re awfully nonchalant about your little human going missing. Is it because she’s actually here?” Hermes accused.

“No!” Apollo said unconvincingly.

“Y/N!” Hermes called. “I know you’re here. Come on out.” I froze. What do I do? Obey the god or obey the other god?

“She’s not here and even if she was, she’d listen to what I said.” I didn’t move, contemplating whether or not I should hide.

“Fine, then you won’t mind if I check your bedroom.”

Σκατά. I could just hide in one of the many other rooms in the house. Hermes probably wouldn’t take the time to check every room. But once I reached the top of the stairs, the door at the bottom opened revealing a very pissed Hermes and distressed Apollo. Curse godly teleportation.

Hermes turned to Apollo. “Wanna do some explaining?” he asked sarcastically, observing my white dress. I just backed away, giving them space to come up the stairs. “Seriously, man. She could be killed because you married her and brought her here without permission,” Hermes explained as they walked up the stairs.

“But no one else is going to know because you’re not gonna tell them,” Apollo said, getting in between me and Hermes. “Right?”

He sighed. “Hi Y/N, congrats on getting married,” he finally greeted me.

“Thanks,” I answered hesitantly.

“Why is she even here?” he asked Apollo.

“Well, we were supposed to go talk to Zeus but I’m working the courage back up,” he laughed awkwardly. Hermes gave him an unamused look. “What? I’ve been single for millennia and then I’m just going to go up to father like ‘Hey, I finally decided to get married. By the way, it’s to a half-blood can you make her immortal too?’”

“So why is she still here?”

“Well Chiron has almost walked in on us having se- OW!” I cut him off with a pinch to his side. “What?” he asked, turning to me.

I could feel the heat rushing to my face now. “Shut up,” I chided him.

“Hermes of all people gets it!” he insisted, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “You can’t honestly say you’ve never brought a girl to Olympus. Like Penelope? Pan’s mother. Because Odysseus would’ve tried to murder you had he walked in on you two.”

“That’s different!” Hermes insisted.

“How?”

Hermes tried to think of an answer for a few minutes before he gave up. “Fine, whatever. But either get her back to camp or tell Zeus what’s going on before anyone else can get their hands on her.” He left no room for argument because he quite literally disappeared in a flash of light that second. Thankfully Apollo had the foresight to cover my eyes for me because Hermes had turned into a ball of light before I could react.

My husband sighed as he looked down at me. “I guess I should return you, huh? I’m sorry I just can’t face Zeus today.”

I smiled softly at him. Truthfully I was in no rush for immortality. I wasn’t quite ready to leave my life behind either way but when Apollo burst into my bedroom declaring that today was the day, I just went with it. Reaching a hand up to cup his jaw I leaned up to kiss him. “Whatever you want, you’re the one who has to take responsibility,” I reasoned.

“Thank you,” he murmured, capturing my lips. “Do you think you can be missing for just a couple more hours?” he asked, pulling away from me.

“Probably,” I agreed. He was immediately scooping my legs up before dropping me onto the bed.

My new husband spent the entire night drawing orgasms out of me until I finally got him to stop. That was the thing about gods, sometimes they didn’t know when to stop because they didn’t always understand human limitations.

I was still breathing heavily from my last peak when I fell asleep on Apollo’s chest, so exhausted.

~

Despite the fact that the sun was down, Apollo could still see his new wife clearly through the moonlight streaming through the glass ceiling. He had laid there for hours, admiring her relaxed features and reveling in the touch of her skin on his. It was nearly five o’ clock and he’d have to get up soon. As nice and sunny as summer was, he hated having to get up so early to get the sun chariot ready.

He gently stroked the hair away from her face, pressing the lightest kiss against her forehead so as not to disturb her. Sitting up, he rearranged the pillows and blankets to cover her before sliding off the bed. He threw on some clothes, leaving a t-shirt for his wife when she woke up before disappearing to the moors of England. Humans thought the sun was always going around the world in a circle but for the west, the sun began in England because that’s where the dividing line fell between the east and the west.

Setting up the sun chariot to do it’s course, Apollo set it off, watching it crest up in the sky like every day. Before he could turn to leave he sensed a new presence behind him. Turning, he found a very smug looking Ares. Trying to play it cool, Apollo smiled. “What are you doing here, brother?”

“I heard about a missing camper,” Ares began. “And then Aphrodite told me about a certain marriage certificate. Filed both on Earth and Mount Olympus.” Apollo cursed internally, that wasn’t supposed to be sent to Olympus for another week. The one time bureaucracy was efficient.

“Ares…” he began, intending to work out some sort of deal but the god of war interrupted him.

“I don’t know where you’re keeping her but until she’s immortal, she’s fair game to kill.”

“You really wanna piss off Demeter like that?” Apollo challenged, hoping her mother could provide her a little protection if he couldn’t.

Ares shrugged. “She has plenty of other children. And it’s not like I’m killing Persephone.” Demeter’s first daughter truly was the apple of her eye. She loved her demigod children but she’d get over their deaths. “Should’ve thought about this before you decided to put an arrow through me in 1918,” Ares sneered.

“That was like a hundred years ago!” Apollo insisted. “Don’t put her in the middle of this. She didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Should’ve thought about the consequences of your actions before you fell in love with a demigod,” the god of war taunted before disappearing in a flash of light.

The sun god let out an enraged grunt before transporting to his house. He practically ripped open the curtains surround the bed to make sure his bride was still there. He let out the biggest sigh of relief seeing her still laying there, unharmed. But now she was stirring due to the sudden light flooding her eyes.

~

I groaned as the sun hit my eyes and a body came to lay next to me. “I’m sorry,” Apollo said, crawling into his spot next to me. “I really wish you could go back to sleep but you need to be back at camp now,” he said. I could now hear the urgency in his voice as I opened my eyes.

“Why? What happened?” I asked, sitting up.

“Look, I uh- may not have thought this marriage all the way through,” he said nervously, handing me a shirt.

My heart dropped and pain flooded my body. “What?” I asked. I cursed myself, I knew it was too good to be true. I thought that after seeing each other for five years he was being honest about wanting to marry me. But I guess five years to an immortal god is the equivalent to a week for a human.

Apollo turned, finding my hurt expression. “No!” he immediately tried to clear up. “No it’s the fact that you’re in danger now. I don’t regret you. I’m so happy you’re my wife now and that you will be forever. I just didn’t think about the other gods’ reactions.”

“Oh,” I said quietly, relief washing over me.

“I could never regret you,” he said, coming over to sit beside me. “I love you. So much,” he swore, pressing me into his chest.

“Is this about Ares?” I asked. He suddenly froze. “I overheard you and Hermes downstairs,” I explained.

“Yes, but I swear to you nothing’s gonna happen to you. You just have to stay at camp. Ares won’t harm you if you’re in Dionysus’ territory,” he said urgently. If his grave tone was any indication, I was in serious danger. “I’m gonna talk to Zeus. We’re already married and I consulted the Fates when I met you so he’ll probably approve your immortality,” he rushed out, handing me shorts to throw on.

I was at a complete loss of what to say so I said the only thing I could think of. “Okay, I trust you.”

He smiled, lightly grasping either side of my jaw. “We have to go. I’m gonna transport with you just outside of camp. The other campers won’t be able to see me but you’re gonna say you snuck out to visit your dad because you were… I don’t know… having a hard time being the only adult at camp?” he suggested.

I nodded, grasping his hand. Immediately we were standing on the side of a familiar rural road. I looked up at the hill in front of me, just over it was Camp Half-Blood. Turning, I found nothing next to me but Apollo’s hand still intertwined in mine was proof he was still there.

He untangled his fingers from mine and gave me a gentle push on my back to encourage me to walk. I did so hesitantly, slowly walking up the hill. As I spotted the gates of camp. Stood on either side of the arch, were two campers in full battle armor. I could hear an indistinct yell as I approached. Probably alerting Chiron to my reemerged presence.

When I finally reached the “safety” of camp I could sense that Apollo was gone. He had kept a few paces behind me but disappeared once I got past Thalia’s former tree. Meanwhile, there was a new threat currently facing me as both Chiron and Mr. D stared down at me disapprovingly. They so rarely agreed with each other and Mr. D so rarely even bothered to pay attention to us that I knew I was in deep shit. “Y/N,” Chiron said like he was scolding his 16 year old daughter, “come with me.” He turned, trotting away as I followed after him like this was a walk of shame. Dionysus just disappeared.

Once I finally reached the Big House, I spotted Mr. D and a woman in the room. She radiated warmth and life despite the rage coming off of her. “Mother?” I asked.

“How could you!” she immediately yelled. “You were seeing a god behind everyone’s back? Not just any god, Apollo,” she spat angrily. “And then next I hear you’re married to him?” she asked in disbelief. “Y/N, do you know what you’ve gotten yourself into? I’ve already lost one daughter to a god. I won’t lose another one.”

Had I not been speaking to a goddess I would’ve lashed out at her. It’s not like she was ever really there for me. How can you lose someone you’ve never been there for? “You’re not gonna lose me,” I insisted, biting my tongue. “You haven’t lost Persephone either, she’s only in the Underworld for a few months. I will be on Olympus with you.”

“Locked in Apollo’s morally depraved sex mansion,” she spat, clearly upset. My jaw nearly dropped, I was so shocked she actually said that.

“Demeter, as valid as your worries are,” Dionysus reluctantly said, “there is the more pressing matter of Ares trying to murder your daughter. And he’ll keep trying until Zeus grants her immortality.”

“Are those boys still fighting about the arrow in 1918?” Demeter demanded.

“Wait, Ares wants to kill me because Apollo shot him?” I asked.

“Yes, it was an accident but Ares never forgot. Especially because it allowed the Allied powers to win. At the time, Ares was kind of betting on Germany to be the next big thing but then when the Allies all blamed it on Germany, Ares wasn’t happy.” Chiron clarified. “And he wants to destroy Apollo’s happiness in revenge.”

“I don’t want you seeing him,” my mother suddenly demanded, still hyper-focused on the wrong topic. Even Chiron and Mr. D rolled their eyes at that. “He’s a no good playboy.”

“We’re already married. I’m not gonna just stop seeing him. And I knew what I was getting myself into. I made sure he actually wanted a relationship with me before I got attached.”

“Oh please-”

“He married me, didn’t he?” I interrupted.

“Demeter, if it’s any consolation he does seem to genuinely be in love with her,” Chiron defended me. “Apollo has never married in all the millenniums he’s lived. He has finally settled down.”

She looked reluctant to accept his argument but didn’t say anything else.

“S-so what do I do now that Ares wants to kill me?” I asked. “Apollo said that he wouldn’t touch me under your protection,” I looked at Mr. D.

The god of wine still looked reluctant to participate in all this. “Well technically camp belongs to all the gods and I cannot ensure your safety. Besides, Ares has never minded breaking a few rules of war. I’ll have to bring you to a more secure place whilst Apollo tries to convince Zeus.”

Demeter sighed. “I will go help him too but after you are immortalized we are discussing your living arrangement,” she said with a stern finger. Before I could reluctantly agree she was gone.

“Come,” Chiron said with a hand on my back. “You must pack only your essentials. Then Dionysus will take you to the convent you’ll be staying at.”

“Convent?” I asked, stopping in my tracks.

“Well, I am the god of cults,” Mr. D reasoned from behind me. “I have a few of my followers there but enough real nuns to disguise you. You’ll be safe there.”

~

I was only at the convent for two days before I was in danger again.

I had been getting along fairly well with the other nuns. Except for one. Her name was Peggy and she seemed too friendly and was always trying to be alone with me. With this being a place that housed Dionysus’ followers I thought nothing of it until I found myself alone with her.

I had been doing my daily chores of dusting the entire convent when Peggy entered the room I was in. I thought nothing of it until I heard the lock click into place. When I turned I didn’t find the nun, I found a gorgon with a grotesque smile on her face. “Daughter of Demeter, I hadn’t expected to see you here. I heard about your little predicament.” I glanced to the open window across the room. If I could just get outside I could trap the gorgon in nature. “Poor Apollo will be so heartbroken when he realizes his bride is dead before he was even able to give her immortality.”

Grabbing a lamp, I hurled it at the monster while she was still talking. It bounced harmlessly off her, shattering but I was already throwing myself through the window. Jumping through a second story window face first probably wasn’t the best idea but I needed to get her onto the ground. As I hit the ground I felt my wrist crack but I didn’t even have time to consider it because the gorgon was bursting through the window after me. She barely missed jumping on top of me but I rolled out of her path. As she was still regaining her bearings I willed the roots of the earth to wrap around her.

Thousands of roots sprung up from the ground tangling each other and the gorgon until they secured her. Any monster worth their myth could cut through my vines but they would come so fast that the monster couldn’t keep up until they were immobilized by the earth. Once the gorgon stopped moving and had just become an unrecognizable mass of weeds, I willed them to pull her into the ground. I’m sure it was a horrific way to die, having every nutrient in your body sucked out of you from underground until you could only become a pile of ichor that would remain in the earth forever.

As soon as I sensed that her life force was gone, I allowed some vines to wrap around my wrist, using the resources of the earth to heal my broken bones. As I let out a sigh of relief at the pain subsiding, I saw a faint flash of light. Now standing a hundred feet away from me were twin brothers, each standing around six feet tall, in full Greek battle armor. I knew enough about mythology and the context of my situation to know that these were Phobos and Deimos. If they weren’t standing between me and the convent I’d try to run there for safety.

“I’m so glad that gorgon was here,” Phobos said. “If it weren’t for you using your powers we never would have found you.”

Σκατά. Well, I just took down a gorgon, I could imprison these two. I let the earth crawl up their shins but they both just looked at each other with smiles before bursting into flames. Their explosion was so violent it threw me back a few feet.

I let out a groan as pain exploded in my body. Peeling open my eyes, I found the earth underneath their feet scorched and they were laughing. I tried to grow vines around myself to pull me into the earth as protection but a blade was suddenly cutting through them and I was being pulled up by my guimpe. Curse these stupid nun outfits.

“Wait, wait, please,” I begged.

“Too bad for you we don’t get to kill you,” Deimos taunted in my face, still holding me by the guimpe. “Ares is gonna torture you to death and send the footage to your husband.”

I did the only thing I could think of. I spat in his face.

“Ew!” he yelled, dropping me to the ground. I wasted no time tearing off into the woods, barely paying attention to Phobos berating his twin.

I continued on, tearing through the woods to get far enough. Seeing a flash of light, I turned the other way, trying to escape Phobos and Deimos long enough so I could hide. “Y/N!” I heard a familiar yell but I didn’t bother to stop. For all I knew, that was one of the twins playing tricks on me.

As I tried to jump over a branch my skirt got caught, sending me to the ground with a crash. Again, curse these nun outfits. Before I could get up though, there was a weight on me. I immediately began screaming and thrashing, assuming it was either Phobos or Deimos but two hands on my face made me look straight ahead. I calmed down realizing it was Apollo currently sitting on top of me.

“Hey, hey, you’re safe,” he assured me. “It’s just me.” As I started calming down, he pulled the veil off my head. “There we go,” he soothed, pulling me up from the ground. As he was still trying to calm me down, Phobos and Deimos appeared behind him. He whirled around, pushing my body behind his. “Zeus granted her immortality. She is under his protection!”

“What we don’t know can’t be held against us,” Phobos laughed.

But before he could do anything, I found myself in a new place. Olympus, I recognized it. Staring up in awe at all the thrones and the magnificent room made of marble. Eleven gods sat around me, including Ares. A completely golden throne that seemed to shimmer was empty.

I looked around, ensuring my head was bowed to all the gods—especially Ares—I finally reached Zeus, falling to my knee.

“Y/N L/N,” Zeus’ booming voice seemed to echo across the room. “You have been granted immortality by the virtue of your husband, Apollo. With the approval of myself and the fates. I hereby grant you goddess status: Y/N, goddess of healing, daughter of Demeter, and wife of Apollo.”

I don’t know what I was expecting but it was as if an unknown burden I didn’t know I had was lifted.

I stood, unsure what to do but all of a sudden a force was hitting me. As Apollo wrapped his arms around me I knew he had been what knocked into me. “My wife’s a goddess!” he yelled, still hugging me, much to the amusement of the other Olympians.

~

A/N I'm gonna be so fucking fr I had no plot going into this I just wanted to write about Apollo so if anyone has any suggestions or requests of a part 2 that ends this better I'm happy to write them

Masterlist | Part 2

#apollo #apollo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo series #pjo tv show #greek gods #greek god x reader #myths #mythology #greek mythology #greek mythology x reader #sun #sun god #sun god x reader #x reader

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Asshole Instructor

Luke Castellan x Jackson!Reader

Request: luke x jackson!reader angst to fluff like he likes reader but bullies her and like one day she almost dies and then he feels so guilty and confesses

Summary: Luke has been an asshole but he can't help it until he realizes the girl he likes could be gone any minute

Warning: Angst, bullying, Luke acting like a five year old, monsters, injuries

Word Count: 1.5K

Masterlist

A/N I tweaked your request a bit so the story flows more imo

“Faster,” I yelled at one of our newest campers. Y/N Jackson dropped her sword and ripped off her helmet, looking at me with fury in her eyes. I was a little afraid but mostly really attracted to her like this.

“Don’t fu-”

“Hey, we don’t curse,” I reminded her of the camp rules. “What with all the kids around.” Seeing her become even angrier made it so hard not to laugh. I was just glad that we weren’t near any bodies of water. When I had told her that her 12 year old brother was a better fighter than her at dinner, every glass of water rose up in the air she was so mad.

She just threw the sword down and stormed off. “Hey!” I yelled after her. “You’re not dismissed.” But she ignored me, continuing to storm off towards the beach. I felt a pang of guilt antagonizing her to the point that she left but I figured I shouldn’t chase after her if she was going to be around water. Plus, it was funny to see her get so mad.

I turned around the clean up the arena only to see Annabeth standing there looking unimpressed. “Why are you being so mean to her?” she asked.

“I’m not, I'm just messing around.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, you’re antagonizing her. And I think I know why,” she smirked.

“Why?” I asked, deciding to humor her.

“Because you looove her,” she replied smugly, drawing out ‘love.’

“I do not,” I immediately defended. I cringed as my response was too fast. She only gave me a satisfied smirk. “Fine, okay. She’s pretty, I’ll give you that.” Annabeth just raised her eyebrow. “And smart,” I admitted. She kept looking at me. “And nice.” More looks. “Fine! Whenever I see her I want to kiss her and never let her out of my sight.”

A smile broke out on her face, finally satisfied. “See? Now go tell her that. Well- maybe not that exactly. You’ll probably scare her off. But tell her how you feel instead of harassing her and making her hate you.”

My heart stopped. “She hates me?”

“Probably!” Annabeth said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Or at least she will if you keep treating her so terribly.”

“Fine, I’ll apologize to her after dinner,” I sighed.

“No! Now,” she demanded.

“But she’s at the beach. She’ll kill me!”

“I don’t care. Go,” she said, pointing down the beach. “And take this to her.”

I grumbled, grabbing her helmet from Annabeth before heading after the daughter of Poseidon. When I finally found her she was sitting near a cluster of rocks, clearly trying not to be noticed by anyone. But as I prepared to tell her how I felt but as I looked at her, I thought about all the horrible ways she could reject me. And then humiliate me by telling everyone in camp about it. So instead I threw the helmet at her.

It bounced off the rock with a clang, clearly startling her. “What? Are you gonna cry because I told you, you sucked. What are you 5?”

“Go away, Luke,” she yelled. I once again felt a pang in my chest as I heard the trembling in her voice. Whether from rage or tears I wasn’t quite sure. But picturing her laughing in my face as she rejected me made me keep going.

“I see why your dad went back to your mom. He couldn’t have his only demigod child in decades be so weak like you.”

“I said go away!” she yelled, standing up. Her eyes were practically on fire as she looked at me with a burning glare. The ocean was getting choppier behind her before it lunged up into a huge wave, soaking me to the bone. I coughed when it finally receded and she was left there, standing dry. “Leave me alone or I’ll stuff you in a sewer pipe,” she threatened, walking off.

~

When I told Annabeth what happened she threatened to stuff me in a sewer pipe. But other than that she let it go and I hadn’t seen much of Y/N. Which hurt at times because I missed seeing her and I thought about her all the time but I honestly deserved that threat she gave me so I respected her wishes.

That was until I heard a scream and then a boy’s desperate yell. I was in the arena when I heard it and didn’t hesitate running towards the sound. There I found Percy and his sister at the edge of the forest. Percy was frantically pushing on his sister’s bleeding leg as she was getting visibly paler. He looked up, seeing me. “Do something!” he yelled.

I ran over, kneeling by her side. I could now see the wound clearly and it was deep. Deep enough to kill her from blood loss. She already had a puddle underneath her and I could see a trail coming from the woods. “Go get Chiron,” I told the boy. He nodded, getting up to sprint to the Big House.

I looked at Y/N’s face, surprised to see her still conscious. “Surprised you’re not cutting me further open,” she said through shallow breaths.

“Look, I’m sorry I’ve treated you like shit and I promise I’ll explain why when you’re better but I need you to focus on staying awake right now. Think you can do that?”

Despite the fact that my hands were keeping her from bleeding out she had the audacity to roll her eyes. “Fine.”

“Thank you,” I breathed. I felt ashamed realizing that was probably the first nice thing I had ever said to her.

Once some Apollo kids came and took her the Big House I went with them. But once they had her in the sickroom and everyone else was kicked out, I became wracked with guilt and worry. I made her life miserable. Why? Because I was afraid of my own feelings for her? I realized just how ridiculous that was. And I realized how little time I may have to actually confess my feelings.

“What happened, Percy?” Chiron’s words interrupted my thoughts.

“We were in the forest just trying to get some monster fighting experience when this big… dog—I think it was a hellhound—jumped at me out of nowhere. I guess she saw it first because she pushed me out of the way but its claws caught her leg,” Percy explained. “Is she going to be alright?” he asked, tears in his wide eyes.

“Yes, she should be fine,” Chiron assured the boy before sending a reassuring look to me too. Did everyone know I liked her? I briefly cursed Annabeth, she probably told him.

But soon enough Lee and Michael said we could go in so I followed Percy into the room. Her leg was wrapped in a pristine white bandage and the sheets must have been changed because they were also white in contrast to her bloody shirt and shorts.

“Percy, why don’t you go get her some clothes for when she wakes up?” I suggested. He looked reluctant but went anyway so I could talk to her. I took a seat by her head, observing her peaceful, beautiful face. “I don’t know if you can hear me but… at least you can’t reject me like this,” I said, letting out an empty chuckle. “But um I guess I'm fulfilling my promise. The reason I’ve been such an asshole to you is because… well… I think I’m in love with you. And I was afraid of my feelings and that you’d reject me so I took it out on you and I’m sorry for that. You didn’t deserve that.”

I sat there for a beat of silence, unsure what to do. But just before I stood up and left, I felt her fingers brush against mine. “Took you long enough to confess, jerk,” she said. I looked back at her, finding the slightest smile and her gorgeous eyes.

“So… you like me too?” I asked, my heart pounding with insecurity.

“Yeah, of course I do,” she admitted. I smiled, leaning down to press my lips to hers. When I pulled away to breathe she took the opportunity to speak. “If you tell anyone I’ll stuff you in a sewer pipe.”

“Sure you will,” I taunted her, connecting our lips again. This time I only pulled away when I heard a slightly squeaky voice.

“What are you doing with my sister?”

Masterlist

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #the lightning theif #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #x reader #percy jackson x sister!reader

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

when your (the author) favorite fic isn’t the readers’ favorite fic

#writing #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writer #author

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

The Final Quest

Luke Castellan x Apollo!Reader

Requested by: @reader-bookling123: hiii I had a request for Luke where it kinda takes place in the past but he was dating reader and they were deeply in love but on their quest somehow reader sadly dies and Luke is just heartbroken and angry and he’s mad that everyone just moved on from her and maybe some cute reuniting moment

Summary: How a quest with the love of Luke's life turned him away from the gods

Warnings: Angst, major spoilers for series, graphic description of death, suicide (technically), anger, resentment, pain, fluffy ending, Dionysus and Apollo slander

Word count: 5.5K

Masterlist

Later A/N So I'm just now rereading Titan's Curse for the first time in like four years so I forgot that the Garden of Hesperides is west in the books. However, when I was researching the myth it was said to be some place north so I chose Canada. So that's why it doesn't reflect the book.

“Happy birthday, Luke,” my girlfriend smiled. Our lips were so close our noses were already touching. But just as I could feel the fleeting touch of her lips on mine, there was a flash of light, making her jump away from me in surprise. Looking over to the source of the light, I found my father standing three feet from us on the dock.

Neither of us had time to react before Hermes was speaking. “Hi Luke! Happy birthday. I have a gift for you.”

“Uh… th-thank you,” I tried to sound grateful but I was a little caught off guard and annoyed he ruined the moment.

“Oh, sorry!” he laughed, noticing my girlfriend who was still half in my lap. “How are you Y/N?”

“I- I’m well, Lord Hermes. How are you?” she asked nervously, awkwardly scooting away from me, moving her legs so their weight no longer rested on mine.

“Oh, no need with the Lord stuff. I may not be the god of prophecy but I am the god of gambling and I’m betting you two will get married. We’ll be family!”

“Father,” I tried to interrupt him as the embarrassment coursed through my veins, bringing heat up to my face. I didn’t even want to see Y/N’s reaction I was so nervous and embarrassed.

“Oh, right. Sorry kid. I forgot how much you teenagers hate sharing your feelings. But uh I’ve heard your prayers and offerings Luke and I have a quest for you.” My eyes widened. Finally. All my training would pay off. I could prove myself and go down in history as a hero. “I need you to get me the golden apples in Hesperides’ garden. Hera is getting a little too insufferable these days y’know?”

Y/N and I sent each other looks, our mouths open in hesitation. Our next words had to be careful. If we agreed to the wrong thing we’d be insulting Hera and I was sure she’d strike us down right here. She didn’t like demigods, to her we were an offense to marriage. Especially the ones that were a product of offense to her own marriage. “Thank you for the quest,” I carefully dodged his last comment.

“Of course, kid. Here, you’ll need this.” He snapped his fingers and in another blaze of heavenly light, a duffle bag appeared in his hands. “Well, good luck. I’ll see you back here when you bring me my apples,” he smiled, handing me the bag. “Uh, avert your eyes,” he warned. Waiting for us to cover our eyes, he disappeared in a golden spray of light.

When the world dimmed again I turned to Y/N. “Oh my god!” she yelled excitedly. She stood up, throwing her arms around me, almost knocking us both into the water. I laughed, hugging her tightly in return. “Luke, you’re gonna be a hero!” she gushed, pulling away so she could look at me.

“We’re gonna be heroes,” I assured her, placing a hand on her face. “Come with me,” I requested. My heart was thumping quickly in my chest out of excitement and nervousness. “We can be the Greek Bonnie and Clyde. Hundreds of years from now demigods will read our myths and say, ‘We can be like Y/N and Luke.’”

She looked at me, confused. “Luke, they were criminals and died tragically,” she laughed a little at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Okay wrong analogy but you get the idea. Please, I can’t do this without you.” As much as I wanted my glory, I knew the Daughter of Apollo wanted it too. And I’d be damned if I couldn’t give it to her.

“Okay, okay,” she laughed. “I’ll go with you.”

“Yes!” I cheered, hugging her so tightly I ended up lifting her off the wooden docks. She laughed as I began to spin, even almost spinning us into the cold water.

~

After talking to Chiron and getting my prophecy, Y/N and I were off in a car that Mr. D had somehow acquired. The only reason we were allowed to take it was because I was 17 and had a little driving experience from when I would take my mom’s car when she was too out of it to even get groceries. I shook off the thoughts as Y/N once again went through our supplies and plan. She seemed nervous even though I assured her numerous times we’d be fine.

“Drachma, cash, ambrosia, passports, drivers license, an enchanted map, and a bow and arrow,” she repeated the contents of the duffle bag. “The Garden of Hesperides is in northern Canada,” she mused, looking at the map. “Heracles defeated Ladon with a bow and arrow by piercing each head through the eye.”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” I assured, reaching across the center console to place a reassuring hand on her thigh. I left it there, rubbing calming circles on the skin of her leg with my thumb. “Heracles did it before…” I said, the words slowly dying as they came out. Heracles already did it. I tried to shake off the thought that I was just redoing a quest. They were so uncommon nowadays it was an honor to be chosen for one. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself to chase the doubt away. Besides, Heracles technically failed his quest, he didn’t bring them to Eurystheus. I would succeed in bringing them to the person who had requested them.

“What was the prophecy again?” she asked, still looking at the map.

I swallowed nervously. The prophecy was not optimistic for us. I couldn’t possibly imagine what we’d find out about each other on this trip that would cause us to lose our love for one another. “You shall go north to fruits, rare / Liar to liar, a father’s heir, / Loves will be lost in Ladon’s lair,” I repeated.

“‘You shall go north to fruits, rare,’” she repeated. “Obviously that means we’re going north to find the golden apples. “‘Liar to Liar, a father’s heir.’ Hermes is the god of lies. And I guess stealing makes you deceitful. Ergo, a liar… ‘Loves will be lost in Ladon’s lair,’” she repeated. I could hear the dread infiltrating her voice.

“Hey,” I interrupted her thinking with a squeeze to her thigh, “that could mean anything. Prophecies are just a guide. A starting point. It was so short and vague that we don’t even know if it’s talking about us. We’ll be fine,” I promised again.

“Yeah, of course,” came her voice. I glanced away from the road, finding a weak smile on her face.

“What kind of music does Dionysus have?” I asked, trying to change the subject. She opened the glove compartment, several things falling out of it.

She began to go through them. “Um, a concerning amount of Weird Al Yankovic.” I laughed as she continued to look through. She then gasped. “Oh my gods.” She held up something next to me that I took. I nearly slammed on the brakes as I glanced down at it.

I couldn’t stare at the CD in my hand too long so we wouldn’t crash but every time I glanced down at it I found a new horrifyingly wonderful detail on the album cover. It was Mr. D with the weirdest haircut I had ever seen. He was lying down on a cheetah print rug, his shirt was a zebra print and had the first several buttons undone so the viewer could see all of his glorious chest hair. That wasn’t even the most outrageous part. Mr. D was lying down next to a tiger with a gold chain around its neck. Hanging from the chain was presumably Mr. D’s stage name, “Dionomite” written in gold cursive and studded with diamonds. “We have to listen to this!”

“Already ahead of you,” she said, punching buttons on the dash. She took the CD from me and put it in. Once it was ready, our ears were immediately assaulted with the sound of various horn instruments being poorly played. “Did he play all the instruments himself?”

“Probably,” I answered as Mr. D’s voice came on. “Oh…” was all I could say as the squeaky singing made my eardrums bleed.

It was funny for a couple songs but then it just got annoying so we switched over to a single Beatles album.

~

We reached the Canadian border in only a couple hours. Thanks to the Mist we could drive as fast as we wanted without fear of mortal cops.

As we pulled up to the gate, the guard switched. Must have been a shift change. I thought nothing of it as I rolled down the window. “Passports?” the guard tiredly asked. His eyes were shielded by sunglasses despite the fact that he was under shade. I became wary but handed him the documents anyway. “Any plants, animals, dairy products, or drugs in the car?” he asked.

“No,” I answered.

“What’s the nature of your quest, demigods?” The customs officer removed his sunglasses, revealing a single eye. He then grew about three feet, revealing a cyclops.

“Hit the gas!” Y/N yelled beside me. I did, taking off. Now we had both a cyclops and the Canadian border police after us as I crashed through the plastic gate that went up and down. I swerved around guards and other cars, getting up on sidewalks and surely ruining the paint job.

But up ahead I could see them closing a heavy looking gate. Gods on our side or not we weren’t getting through that gate. So I swerved into the trees. “Hold on!” they were sparse enough that the car could fit in between the trees. Glancing in the mirror, I could no longer see border guards. But there was a 9 foot tall cyclops following us in the distance. Which would be fine, he’d never catch up to the car but the woods were getting thicker and now I didn’t know which way was the road.

Nature made its decision for me as I heard Y/N’s scream. “Luke look out!” But it was too late. A violent force stopped us and the car was suddenly still. There was so much force I was half afraid the cyclops had a friend but I just found a tree in the middle of the hood where the engine used to be. “Run!” I told my girlfriend, frantically unbuckling my seatbelt.

I ran to the other side, finding her struggling with the seatbelt. She threw the duffle bag at me before pulling out her knife and cutting the seatbelt away. When she hopped out, I took her hand. We ran further into the trees, the cyclops’ thunderous footsteps right behind us.

“Luke, we can’t run forever,” she breathed. She was right. We’d run out of energy before that thing did.

I thought for a moment, thinking of how we’d kill this thing. “At that big tree,” I pointed to a huge pine tree right in our path, “split up. Then we’ll circle back around and hit him from the side.” She nodded in understanding. We ran full speed at the tree until we each turned on the balls of our feet, dashing out of the cyclops’ path. The plan worked better than expected because he ran face first into the solid pine tree.

He crumpled to the ground, giving me time to retrieve my sword from the duffle bag. By the time I looked up, Y/N was already dancing around the beast, cutting him up with her knife. I jumped in, giving him the same treatment. We worked as a flawless team, striking and giving the other space as needed. Until finally, she cut the thing’s heels, forcing him to the ground. I took the opportunity to stab him in the eye, leaving behind only a pile of shimmery ichor.

When he was gone, I immediately pulled Y/N in my arms. Even at the relative safety of camp, I always needed her in my arms to calm down after battle. To assure myself that she was still there and I was still alive. The sound of her breath in my ear helped ground me. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, you?” Her face was still buried in my shoulder.

“Yeah. Sorry I crashed the car.” She chuckled, pulling away from me.

“You’re forgiven. C’mon, let’s go see what supplies we can save and start walking.”

While the car was unsalvageable, all of our stuff was fine. So we grabbed out backpacks full of winter clothes and started following the map. It wasn’t that bad now but it’d be cold by the time night fell so I forced Y/N to put on sweatpants over her shorts.

I was kind of hoping the map would take us to civilization where we could rest for the night but it just seemed to bring us deeper into the forest and we had no flashlight. As it got darker and colder I got more nervous. “We have to find some sort of shelter for tonight.”

“I know it’s dark but it’s not that-” A pack of wolves howling cut her off. “Okay, yeah,” she agreed. She began looking around. “Any chance you could climb one of these trees? I don’t really want to be on the ground.”

I shook my head. “Even if I could get up high enough I don’t think any of the branches would support us.”

She huffed. “Shelter it is, I guess.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the wolves,” I teased. She had just killed a literal cyclops but she was afraid of some dogs.

“Hey, I don’t mess with wolves,” she said sternly. “After I saw that one movie about the kids stuck on the ski lift. You wouldn’t catch me in the woods at night yet here we are.”

“What about Capture the Flag?” I asked as we started collecting stuff to make a shelter.

“Well that’s different. There’s like 30 of us out there.”

“Do you want me to start sticking with you during the games? You know, if a wolf wanders in?” I teased.

“I’ll make my own shelter for tonight, thank you very much,” she said matter o’ factly.

“No, no, no. I’m sorry,” I apologized, tugging her back to me as she tried to storm off to get supplies. “Besides, we need each other’s body heat to keep us warm,” I whispered teasingly.

“Not a chance out here,” she scolded me.

“Worth a try,” I shrugged. “Everyone knows you can better preserve body heat if you’re not wearing clothes.” She just gave me an exasperated look before walking off again. “I’m joking!” I yelled after her.

By the time we had the shelter built up only about an hour had passed. We used pine needles to try to protect out bodies from the cold ground. And we used our winter coats as a blanket since we zipped them together. We laid down in the shelter, still shivering despite our best efforts. I held her close as she curled up against my chest, her head tucked under my chin. “Get some sleep,” I told her. “I’ll keep watch.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Wake me in a few hours and I’ll take over.” I agreed with absolutely no intentions of waking her up. Judging by how fast her breathing evened out despite her constant shivers, she needed the sleep more than me. In the morning she’d yell at me for not waking her but it was worth it.

~

We had only been walking for a few minutes when we came across sled dogs. Ten siberian huskies all laying around patiently, harnessed to a sled. “Maybe these were the wolv-”

“Shut up,” she warned, giving me a light smack against the shoulder. I laughed as she hesitantly approached the dogs. “Hey guys, you waiting for someone?” She slowly reached her hand out to one of the dogs who calmly sniffed it before licking it eagerly. She gave him some scratches behind the ear in return. “Awe you’re such a good boy.” The dogs were now all up, wagging their tails and whining for pets.

I went up to the sled, finding a satchel tied to it. Opening it I found dog treats and a note. “All good huntresses need a pack of wolves.” Underneath it was a crescent moon. I clenched my jaw, recognizing the sender of the gift. Her aunt, Artemis. Last year, during the winter solstice, Artemis and her hunters had visited briefly. One of the hunters, Zoe, befriended Y/N. And even after she had told them she had a boyfriend, they still tried to recruit her. It never sat right with me, the way Artemis seemed so okay with breaking up a relationship.

“It’s for you,” I told Y/N, handing her the note. I handed her the note and she took it. She just sighed before stuffing it back into the satchel. “I don’t know why she’s so determined to recruit you.”

“I don’t know either,” she said, already tying our stuff to the sled. “But she’s gonna be disappointed because I’m kind of really into this one guy. I don’t know if you know him but he’s the son of Hermes. He’s gonna be a great Greek hero.” Her praise was enough for me to let go of my anger. Stooping down, I pressed a kiss to her lips.

The pack of sled dogs was perfect for the Canadian wilderness except for one problem. There was no snow. Still, they managed to pull us so smoothly it was like snow.

Soon enough, we pulled up to a garden. If it weren’t for the fact that they were literally in the middle of nowhere, this garden would be unassuming. It had a white picket fence and looked to be about an acre. Thousands of different types of plants grew, enchanting us with its smell. Off in the distance, in the middle of the garden, I could faintly see the golden fruits, the sun glinting off of them.

“The nymphs never gave Heracles a problem,” Y/N shrugged. I nodded, cautiously opening the gate, sword in hand. She held the bow up, an arrow already knocked. A quiver of them were slung over her back.

We crept in quietly, watching for signs of danger. She would watch our surroundings and made sure no nymphs attacked us while I kept an eye on the multi-headed dragon, making sure he didn’t stir.

Once we were about 20 feet away, he still wasn’t stirring. Y/N kneeled down behind some greenery, lining up her arrow. She took aim and fired. The arrow bounced harmlessly off one of the many scale covered head. The beast didn’t so much as stir. She looked back at me, as if seeking assurance. I nodded, telling her to try again. But rather than just take aim again, she crept a little closer. I almost told her to get back but I was afraid the dragon would wake up at my yelling. I held my breath, heart pounding as she tried again. This time she sunk it right through the eyelid but before either of us could react, another head moved. It snapped at her, jaws clenching around her waist. My blood turned to ice as I heard her pained scream. It was so horrifying to hear my body seemed to turn to lead.

I needed to save her. I forced my body into a run. I slashed at the neck that was currently holding my girlfriend in the air. Ladon dropped her, not without a claw slashing at me in turn. I managed to dodge it, scrambling over to Y/N. I wasn’t even comprehending whether or not she was conscious or if she was alive. I was too busy trying to tug her away. Golden fucking apples be damned.

I reached her, grabbing her by her shoulders and trying to tug her to safety. But before I could make much progress, the beast’s claw was in my face again. But I noticed it too late this time, too focused on my girlfriend’s very pale face. The claw hit me in the face, sweeping me to the side. I couldn’t feel the pain but I could see the blood seeping into my vision. I tried to wipe it away but it just kept coming. With my non-blinded eye I could see Ladon going back to his prior position as if we were nothing. Like he wasted no energy maiming us. Nonetheless, it allowed me to grab her by the shoulders, shaking her awake.

“Y/N, we need to go!” I said frantically, worried he’d come back for round two if we didn’t get out soon. “Can you walk?” I looked down at her body and knew the answer. Her shirt was covering the extent of her wounds but teeth marks, each a few inches across, tore through her shirt and there was blood. So much blood.

“With help,” she said in a strangled voice.

“Okay, good,” I nodded. Her assurance eased me slightly. I slung her arm across my shoulder before pulling her up. She screamed as I raised her off the ground but nevertheless gritted her teeth and bore it.

“No!” she cried as I tried to wrap my arm around her to support her weight. I realized that in doing so I’d be pressing into her wounds. She sobbed in pain the entire time we slowly stumbled out of the garden. It pained me to hear her cries but I had to get her out of here. If I could just get her to the sled I could give her some ambrosia and she’d be fine.

When I finally got her outside the gate, I laid her down. I’d get her onto our transportation once she wasn’t in such a critical condition. “Hold on, I’ll get you some ambrosia,” I told her, moving toward the sled. But the weakest tug held me back.

I looked down at her, finding blood, sweat, and tears covering her face. “No,” she cried. Tears were pouring down her face as sobs wracked her body. “Ambrosia won’t help.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” I held her face. Oh, her beautiful face. My heart clenched seeing it twisted in agony. “You’re gonna be fine. I promised you. I’m not a liar…” Tears were falling down my face now. She’s not fine. I realized that I’d become an unknowing liar.

Her hand reached up to my face, her thumb swiping over my blood covered cheek. “You’re not a liar. We were doomed from the start.” She took a labored breath and deep inside, I knew it was the end for her.

“Come on, no. Don’t leave. Please don’t leave,” I cried. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into my lap. As if physically holding on to her would keep her from slipping through my fingers like the wind. “Just hold on until I can get you to a hospital.”

“We don’t have time.” A small smile tugged at her face and I knew she was smiling through the pain for my sake. “I love you, Luke. Promise me you’ll move on?”

“What? No. You know I won’t. You’re the love of my life,” I insisted.

“Please, at least try?” she asked. “I don’t want you following me too soon,” she tried to joke. But her laugh turned into pained sobs as the movement hurt her body.

I cried harder seeing her in so much pain. Her breathing was getting shallower and more labored. “Fine, I’ll try,” I swore. Lie. “I love you. So much.”

“I’ll see you in Elysium,” she said through a peaceful smile. It would be a welcome sight if it weren’t for the blood bubbling up out of her mouth. I turned her to the side slightly so she wouldn’t choke on it but it wasn’t enough. The blood was coming faster and her body was shutting down. “I love you,” she whispered before her eyes fluttered shut.

“No, wake up!” I cried, shaking her slightly. “Wake up!” Her breaths were getting shorter and I was getting more desperate. “Do something!” I yelled up at the sky. Her father. My father. Anyone! But no one came. Her wounds didn’t stitch themselves together and her eyes didn’t open. I held her tightly, sobbing into her shoulder long after she stopped breathing. Even the dogs started howling at the gods when her heart stopped beating.

~~~

“That’s why I hate the gods,” I murmured to Percy, watching the scorpion slowly creep up his leg. “They finally granted me a quest. It was all I ever wanted. But it was a joke. All my father wanted to do was piss off Hera and he was okay with using me and my girlfriend as collateral damage. And her father, Apollo,” the name came out of his mouth like venom, “the god of prophecy and healing let his daughter die. He knew she was going to die, even before the quest. And when he had the opportunity to save her, he ignored her.”

“I’m sorry she died but-”

“No!” I cut Percy off. “It would be one thing if she just died but she died over a fucking prank war. She died an agonizing death. Her aunt, Artemis, intervened in our quest but she still let her niece die a slow, painful death. They didn’t even help me bring her back to camp so she could be buried properly. I had to bury her in the woods like I had killed her and was covering up a crime.” I swiped away a tear as I noticed it slip down my face. I still couldn’t decide what was worse. Feeling her die in my arms or leaving her out there in the woods to rot. “And to make matters worse, no one seemed to care that she died. When I finally got back to camp a month later, they just pitied me. I begged Chiron to let me and some others go get her so we could give her a proper funeral but he refused. And when I tried to get others to join me to convince him, no one would go. After a couple days no one seemed to care that Y/N L/N was dead. A week later, another Apollo camper was claimed and they just gave her bunk away to him. Like she meant nothing.”

“But why Kronos? I’ve never heard of a demigod turning away from the gods. Even when horrible things happened.”

I sighed in contentment, remembering the projection he showed me. “Because he can bring her back. We’ll be immortal and without pain forever. He showed her to me. He said she’s happy in Elysium but she misses me,” I smiled softly. “But she misses camp too,” I laughed bitterly. “Annabeth, Grover, she probably would’ve missed you had you two met. But she never got the opportunity. But now, with Kronos, I’ll get to give her everything she wants.” I looked over at the kid. He seemed so deep in thought I wasn’t sure he’d heard me. “Goodbye Percy,” I said as I stood.

“I’ll tell everyone at camp about you!” he called after me.

“If you make it. Pit scorpion venom will kill you in 60 seconds. Even if you do make it, I’ll still be long gone.”

~~~

I sunk the blade into my Achilles heel, destroying Kronos’ life source inside me. I laughed as I could feel him leaving me. And continued to laugh as I fell to the ground and felt my own life draining out of me. Looking up, I found Annabeth above me, her curls hanging in my face. “I’m gonna see Y/N,” was all I said.

Tears welled in her eyes as I felt her comforting hand stroke my hair. “Yeah you are. I know how much you missed her.”

“I’ll see you there too,” I promised her, just like Y/N promised me.

~

I stood in front of the Judges of the Underworld. I knew I messed up in my life but my sacrifice had to amount to something. And I had to get to Elysium. “Luke Castellan,” Minos read my name. “You are charged with… starting a war against the gods?” he read in disbelief. “Why were you not immediately sentenced to the Fields of Punishment?” If I still had a heart it’d be in my feet right now. I couldn’t go to the Fields of Punishment. “You should have cut your losses and taken the express line to the Fields of Asphodel.”

“Keep reading,” Rhadamanthus said, not even looking up from the papers.

Minos rolled his eyes but kept going. “Oh, you sacrificed yourself, killing Kronos and saving Olympus and all of humanity. Hmm. Well, you did still start a war with the gods.”

Aeacus leaned over. “Minos, this really is more of a formality than anything. All the gods have already given him a pass.”

Minos huffed. “Fine,” he picked up a gold gavel, “Elysium!” he declared.

Before I could even thank him I was transported into what looked like the Apollo cabin. It was strange, I knew this was supposed to be the Apollo cabin but it didn’t have all the bunks. It looked like a normal house but something about it felt so familiar. I looked around, realizing I was standing in the living room. This must be Y/N’s house, it even smelled like her. Decorating the walls were pictures of her and her friends and siblings. But on the mantle and side tables were pictures of us. I picked one up, noticing the fingerprint markings all over it. She must pick it up a lot.

Looking around, I found glass French doors in the kitchen that led outside. The view was breathtaking. Mountains rose up on either side of the bluest lake I had ever seen. I went outside, intending to enjoy the view. As I stepped outside I could smell fresh air and feel a perfect breeze. “Hey stranger,” a voice came from beside me. I turned, immediately letting out a choked sob as I saw her sitting there. She stood, coming to me and I immediately snatched her into my arms. She shushed me, stroking my back as I sobbed in her shoulder. “You came way earlier than I wanted but I’m glad to see you.”

I pulled away so I could see her face. The blood, sweat, and tears were gone. It was just her beautiful, perfect face. “You’re actually here,” I said, reaching a hand up to her face. I was terrified she’d disappear again just like she did when Kronos showed her to me in my dreams.

“I’m here. And so are you,” she smiled. “We’ll be immortal and without pain forever,” she swore.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Luke.”

~

Decades later we were opening our door to see Percy and Annabeth standing there. “Y/N!” Annabeth cried, jumping into my wife’s arms.

“Hey Annabeth!” she laughed, clutching the woman in a hug.

I looked over to Percy, finding him with smile lines and salt and pepper hair. “Hey cuz,” I smiled, extending my hand. Percy shook it and pulled me into a hug which I returned. I patted him on the back as I pulled away. “You know you can look any age you want here? You don’t have to be an old man.”

“I’m not an old man,” he insisted. “I was 80. Just anything older than 16 year old me looks old to you.”

I shrugged, he wasn’t wrong. I turned to Annabeth, giving her a hug too.

Y/N took Percy’s hand. “Percy, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Everyone from camp whose already here has said great things.”

He smiled at her. “I’ve heard the same about you,” he returned, glancing at me. “Well we brought blue cake for dessert.”

Masterlist

A/N Omg this is quite possibly the angstiest thing I've ever written. But it also has one of my favorite endings. Thanks for requesting this, I really enjoyed writing it

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #the lightning theif #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #x reader #annabeth chase

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

The Way I Loved You

Luke Castellan x demeter!Reader

Summary: "But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain / And it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name / So in love that you act insane"

Warnings: angst, possessiveness, jealousy, toxic relationship, fluff ending

Wordcount: 3.3K

Masterlist

A/N A. Yes, it's another Taylor Swift songfic and B. Four fics in five days, I've been cooking

And you were wild and crazy / Just so frustrating, intoxicating, complicated

Ever since Y/N met Luke Castellan, he drove her insane. When they were kids, 13 and 14 respectively, they hated each other. She hated the way he came in and immediately started bossing the campers around. Despite being so young she was the counselor for the Demeter cabin. Her big sister—her only sibling at the time—had tragically died on her way to camp that summer. But instead of mourning the always kind and radiant daughter of Demeter, they mourned the daughter of Zeus no one had ever met. And seeing the way the new boy seemed to soak up the attention made her hate him.

By the time she was 15 they still hated each other but he was all she had. They had both been at camp so long, and lost so many of their siblings and friends, both could hardly remember life without the other. But they still argued like children. So whenever they had bickered so much that Chiron or Mr. D got tired of it, they’d send them to do a chore together. They spent long hours cleaning the showers, stables, infirmary, doing practically every undesirable chore together that they finally started to talk.

Luke got to know her and understand why she hated him. And she had learned about his life and gained sympathy for him.

Soon enough those talks became makeout sessions. They stopped talking but at least they couldn’t fight if their lips were occupied. It was like they were addicted to each other.

Eventually they slid into dating. When they weren’t talking it was great. But someone would inevitably say or do something that made the other mad.

~

“Why were you flirting with him?” Luke demanded, slamming the door of the Demeter cabin.

“What are you talking about? I was training him. You know? Doing my job!”

“It wasn’t just training and you know it.”

“Gods you’re so insecure and possessive.”

“You’re the one who begged me to commit to you. Of course I’m gonna worry about my fucking girlfriend.”

“I did not beg you.”

“Yes you did. You’re the insecure one. You just needed to put a label on it and screw everything up.”

~

“You were supposed to meet me by the lake an hour ago!” Y/N stormed into the room.

“Oh crap. I’m so sorry babe,” he apologized. Trying to kiss her and make it go away.

“You do this all the time. I’m never a priority to you!”

“You’re literally my girlfriend. I don’t know what else you want.”

“I’m only your girlfriend because you didn’t want me to date anyone else!”

~

“Why are you packing?” Luke asked.

“You know my cousin who goes to Syracuse? She invited me up for the weekend.”

“So what? You can go party with frat guys?”

“No, so I can party with girls,” she tried to lighten the mood.

But Luke wasn’t consoled.“I don’t want you going to some college and getting drunk.”

“Why?”

“Because so many things can happen. You could get drugged and taken advantage of. You could get attacked. What are you gonna do if a cyclops sniffs you out but you’re too drunk to realize?”

“You’re not actually worried about that you just don’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you. It’s them I don’t trust.”

“It takes two to tango.”

“Again, you could get roofied.”

“Urgh Luke you’re not listening to me!”

~

They had plenty of arguments. So much so that the Hermes and Demeter campers had a silent agreement to go to each other’s cabins whenever their counselors started arguing.

But toxic relationships can’t go on forever.

It was Y/N’s birthday. She was turning 18. Collectively Camp Half-Blood made a big deal about birthdays considering that each one literally signified a triumph over death. But Luke couldn’t even be bothered to spend the day with her. When she woke up in his bed, he was already up and putting on his training gear. “‘Morning,” she greeted softly. She tried not to seem too excited about her birthday but all she wanted in that moment was for him to say “happy birthday.”

“Hey,” he smiled. “I'm gonna go train with some of the other campers. The new kids have been excited to watch me fight so…” he said smugly, already halfway out the door. “Just uh make the bed when you leave? Thanks.”

She was left disappointed. Like she always was except for when they were together but not talking.

But almost as soon as she stepped outside she was greeted with several wishes for a good birthday. She nearly cried when she got back to her cabin and found her bunk decorated, small gifts left on her bed from her friends and siblings.

By lunch practically the whole camp had wished her a happy birthday and she was feeling a bit better. She was reading a book she got as a gift, sitting alone at the Demeter table while she ate. Laughter invaded the dining pavilion and she watched as Luke entered along with the campers he had been training. He spotted her, coming over to her table but she didn’t even look up at him.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked. No response. “Why are you mad?” Still no response. After a few beats of silence he tried to change the subject. “So what are you reading?” She just held the book up so he could read the title. “Ah. Where’d you get that?”

By now the other campers had grabbed their food and were walking past the Demeter table. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” they each wished as they passed by. She smiled up at each of them as they passed. She only spared a glance at Luke to witness the expression on his face.

“Are-are you mad because you think I forgot your birthday? Of course I didn’t forget your birthday, babe. I’m just uh… saving my surprise for after dinner.”

“Sure,” was all she said, flipping the page.

“No, no,” Luke insisted, coming around to the other side of the table. He straddled the bench, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her close. As he did so he pressed a kiss against her cheek because she was still focused on her book. “You’re gonna love your gift. I swear.”

Luke spent the rest of the afternoon running around trying to put together a surprise. He got Mr. D to summon a small cake. Fortunately Mr. D was the one person in camp that didn’t know or care that it was Y/N’s birthday so he didn’t ask questions. As for the gift, Luke was lost. Anything in the camp store she’d immediately be able to tell wasn’t something he had thought about and anything he already owned she’d recognize as his.

So he went out to the meadow, picking flowers. She was the daughter of Demeter, of course she liked flowers.

So by the time dinner finished, Luke was pretty proud of what he had pieced together despite his limited resources. After everyone had left the dining pavilion, he brought Y/N to the docks where he proudly displayed his hard work. Except when he handed her the flowers, she looked disappointed. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I know you forgot my birthday. That’s fine. Whatever,” she sniffed passive aggressively. “But you gave me probably the most cop out gift you could think of.”

“What do you mean? You love flowers.”

By now the tears were freely flowing from her eyes. “You know I hate cut flowers because they just die. You could have dug a few up, preserved their roots and repotted them.”

“Okay fine, I’ll plant them.”

But she shook her head. “No, it’s too late.”

“Then I’ll get new flowers.”

“No, not about flowers. It’s too late for us.”

His heart sunk. “What?”

“Luke, I think we should break up.”

“Over a damn gift? Y/N, I’m sorry. I know I dropped the ball but the wrong gift isn’t something you break up over.”

“It’s not about the gift!” she cried. “Luke, we don’t know each other. We’re strangers who are together because it’s convenient. The gift just proves you only know the basics. We’ve been together for two years. Known each other for five. You should know I don’t like cut flowers.”

“So we need to reconnect? We can work through this. Please Y/N, don’t do anything rash.”

She just shook her head again. “You’re not getting it. It’s not even just that we don’t know each other. We can’t talk for more than five minutes before fighting. We’re toxic, Luke.”

“But we’re…”

“Just because we’re all each other has doesn’t mean we’re good together.”

“Y/N, don’t do this. Please.” By now even Luke had a few tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Luke. But this is better for both of us.” With that, she walked away from him for the last time.

~~

He can't see the smile I'm faking / And my heart's not breaking / 'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all

Getting over Luke was the hardest thing she ever had to do. She spent several days crying to her younger sister, Katie. She tried to help her sister but the younger girl couldn’t relate, making Y/N just feel more alone. But then a new Athena camper joined and things got better.

Chiron had basically assigned Y/N to show Ben the ropes around camp. He felt bad for the poor girl. No one liked watching her or Luke sulk around camp.

“Ben, I’d like you to meet Y/N. She’s one of our most senior campers and counselor of the Demeter cabin.”

She smiled at the new boy. “Hi. Do you know what cabin you’ll be in yet?”

“Yeah, uh Athena. She claimed me when the satyrs found me,” he answered, already finding himself interested. Chiron tried to hide his smirk realizing the boy’s quickly growing feelings.

“Well you’re one of the lucky ones.”

“I’ve heard.”

“Y/N,” Chiron interrupted, “why don’t you show Ben around? Let him know how we do things around here.”

“Uh, sure. C’mon I’ll give you a tour.” As they went around camp, Ben asked her all sorts of things about herself. Favorite color, favorite flower, who her friends were, what they were like, what she liked to eat and more. All the things Luke should have known.

As they kept going through camp, Ben knew he was already falling for her. And not just because Chiron had talked her up so much as they had approached the daughter of Demeter. He thought she was pretty and smart. And she was so kind to him. Plus, everyone around camp seemed to love her.

Ben’s very apparent interest was much to the chagrin of Luke. He had spent the first couple days of his breakup pretending like everything was alright. An act that proved very unpopular with the rest of camp. But the lonely nights got to him and his siblings could hear quiet sobs and sniffles in the night. But almost as soon as he started showing remorse, this new guy showed up and all of a sudden there was a buzz around camp about the new guy who would replace him.

The excited gossip about his ex and the new boy had literally started from day one. He saw them going through the camp tour a few times that day. After all, Camp Half-Blood is big. And Luke just happens to have to go to the same areas his ex does at the same time. But every time he spotted them he couldn’t help but glare at the new Athena cabin member. Every time he sent her a smile or made her laugh, Luke curled his fist impossibly tighter. His fists became almost perpetually white as the blossoming romance grew over time.

As for Y/N, she was finally healing. Not happy, but healing and Ben was helping with that as time went on and they got closer. He was perfect. Sweet, smart, a gentleman. But he wasn’t Luke.

They spent many nights getting to know each other. He knew her birthday, all her favorites, and made an effort with all her friends. Hell he even made an effort with Luke—an effort the Hermes boy did not appreciate—because he knew Luke was still important to Y/N. When he asked her out he did so with a pot of her favorite flowers which he had Argus help him get.

He knocked on the door of the Demeter cabin which was opened by Katie. “Hey Katie,” Ben greeted Y/N’s favorite younger sister. “Is Y/N home?”

“Yeah, she is.” The young girl called for her and soon enough the object of Ben’s affection was at the door.

“Hey Ben. What’s up?” she asked.

“I just wanted to give you this,” he smiled, handing her the beautifully potted flower. “I know I’m no demigod child of the plant goddess but…”

“No it’s great,” she smiled at him. But her heart was sinking. It wasn’t because of the gift, the gift was perfect actually. But if Luke had been the one to give it to her, her heart would be soaring. “Thank you.”

“And I just wanted to ask you if you uh- wanted to have dinner with me tonight?” he nervously asked.

“Oh well I’d love to,” she smiled. “But uh we can’t table hop at dinner. It’s against the rules,” she laughed nervously, hoping that would be enough to dissuade him.

“That’s not a problem. I got permission from Chiron to let us have dinner together. We just have to be out of the dining pavilion before everyone else gets there at 7.”

Dread kept filling her. She was in too deep now. And he had asked Chiron, she couldn’t just shoot him down. “Well then I’ll see you at 6 then?”

The biggest smile broke over his face. “See you then.”

The entire time at dinner, Y/N wanted to cry. This is not what she wanted. Ben was not what she wanted. But she kept forcing a happy face, hoping that if she could convince Ben she liked him too, she could convince herself.

When he brought her out to the meadow and kissed her, she wanted to dig herself into the ground and die. It was a sweet kiss but it just felt wrong… like there was no chemistry or passion between them.

She was so frustrated with herself. As she looked into Ben’s eyes she wondered why she couldn’t just love him back. Here was this incredibly caring guy who was more than willing to give her everything she was asking for but she just didn’t feel anything.

~~

But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain

For Luke, seeing Y/N with Ben made a weird dread fill his chest. To him it wasn’t fair that she just got to move on when she was the one that broke up with him. She should be begging for him back right now. And he hated to admit it but he’d take her back in a heartbeat right now.

So when he found her crying on the beach late one night, he didn’t know what to think. But she was still all he had so he approached. “Hey,” he tried to catch her attention gently.

She looked up at him, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes. “Oh, hey Luke,” she tried to play off her tears. “What are you doing here?”

“Came here to think and then I saw you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” She gave a strained smile that did nothing to hide the puffiness of her eyes or blotchy skin.

It pained Luke to see her like this. Even more so when he knew he was the cause of her tears at one point. “Are you sure?” he asked, sitting next to her but maintaining her space. “We can talk. I promise it’ll just be a friendly conversation.”

She let out the weakest laugh he had ever heard. “I’m fine. You wouldn’t wanna hear about it anyway,” she dismissed even though Luke was the only person she wanted to talk to. He was the only person who could maybe possibly understand. Her siblings were too young and the only other camper their age was Ben.

“Try me,” Luke challenged, scooting the slightest bit closer.

She looked at him for a while before reluctantly speaking. “It’s Ben. I just… he’s such a great guy. He’s nice, and sweet, and such a gentleman but he’s just not…”

“Just not what?” Luke asked a little eagerly. From a distance she had looked blissfully happy and everyone spoke about how well Ben treated her. But hearing that his ex-girlfriend had a problem with the guy she was dating? Luke was a little too eager to hear about that.

“He’s not you!” She finally admitted. She didn’t miss the way Luke seemed to brighten. “He does nice things for me and he’s so sweet and into me but I’m just feeling nothing at all. It’s like there’s no passion between us.”

“Well you were right. We were toxic but we also had a lot of passion,” Luke tried to lighten the mood. “Look, I don’t mean to sweep in on your most vulnerable moment but I’ve been thinking since the breakup and this is the first time you’ve even looked at me so. I know I treated you like shit and was so possessive. I’m ready to actually commit to you and be your boyfriend instead of just slipping into it because we were already making out when we were younger. I want to give you everything the old me couldn’t or wouldn’t because watching you slip through my fingers was the most painful thing I've ever done. Besides, with more effort I think we could make this work because you don’t fight like we did unless you’re in love. People who don’t love each other just let it fade. They don’t fight.”

She looked like she was in severe pain. “Gods, why couldn’t you have said this three months ago?” Her lips were immediately on his. Luke was a little taken aback but kissed her back, glad to have her in his arms once again.

A few moments later they were promising each other eternity with all the passion in the world. “Forever?” he asked through labored breaths, his fingers intertwined with her hair.

“Forever,” she agreed.

The next day Luke was waiting anxiously in the Hermes cabin. Y/N was ending things with Ben but he was still nervous. What if she decided she wanted to stick with the safer option? He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it if she went back to him after last night.

His thoughts were only quieted when the door opened and he found her standing there. He stood up anxiously but hesitated, still slightly wary that she’d tell him she changed her mind. But she walked towards him, immediately falling into his arms. “Forever?” he asked.

“Forever,” she agreed.

Relieved, Luke pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Forever,” he confirmed for himself.

Masterlist

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #the lighting thief #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #x reader #Spotify

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

imagine if the show was animated and this is what we got

#vira supremacy #percy jackson #Percy Jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo series #pjo tv show #hoo #heroes of olympus #the lighting thief #luke castellan #annabeth chase #grover underwood #thalia grace #nico di angelo