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kafkasmuses · 5 days

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CALIGULA — luke castellan + reader : luke castellan, in all his reign, has a love for sexual pleasure, more importantly with you.

tags: mdni, inspired by ancient roman stories, luke is a pervert, dark!luke, p in v sex, jealousy, possessiveness, assistant!reader, captain!luke, luke is an awful man in this sawry

a/n: ive been binge watching the roman empire show

LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR.

41 AD.

luke castellan can’t deny how harsh of a captain he was on the princess andromeda.

he wanted to be the best captain on the sea, wanted to get his revenge on camp halfblood and the gods, wanted to live the lavish life he had always dreamed of. he thought of a life where he would drink red wine out of chalices, be fed grapes from the hands of beautiful women, or men, he wanted to be treated like a god— because in his mind, he would be the best god to ever exist.

you started out as his assistant, writing papers for him on a simple typewriter that he gave to you, a fucking typewriter. you tried to remind him it was no longer the 1950s, he scoffed like you were stupid. “you know people used them in the 1800s, right?”

your lips press together, looking at him, then the typewriter, then back to him. you offer a small smile, and he doesn’t return it, he never does, and he never will. luke took things very seriously, maybe too seriously, so he never let himself smile, let alone laugh, a bitter scoff was all you’d get from him at most.

you were pliant, luke noticed, and he liked that. you did everything he asked, every time he asked. he’d call your name, and hear your heels clicking against the wooden floorboards no less than a second later. speaking of heels, luke was strict about dress codes, too.

to call him a pervert.. well, you wouldn’t be far off.

he wanted you to wear things like tight pencil skirts, short or long, thin tights, maybe even solely stockings, stiletto heels that he’d purchased for you the second he saw you show up in mary janes, and a simple shirt or blouse. he liked glasses, too, thin, square framed ones, like bayonetta’s.

you had to wear dark red lipstick, regardless.

you hated your boss, more than anything, the way he’d walk into a room and easily command it, the way his body language reeked of cockiness, the way that despite all evilness, he still thought he was doing something for the greater good.

what you hated the most, is how much you fantasized about him.

that’s why you always ran to him so quick when he called out for you, why you endured the loud clacking of the typewriter keys even when you had to do a paper at night and he opened your door to yell at you to ‘shut the fuck up or get thrown off the damn boat.’

he was never a good man, nor a good boss, but he looked good.

you liked when he was angry, when he yelled at you, when he held your jaw so tight you were sure he’d shatter it and spit degrading words at you like you were vile. it should be such a shame that you enjoy it, but you don’t pity yourself one bit. he was meaner with you, he always cracked awful jokes with the rest of the crew, drank beers with them, lit their cigarettes, but you, you were the person he took all his anger out on.

well, at first it was anger.

then he began to ever so slowly show his desires for sexual connections. he was able to hold it in at first, act like he wasn’t missing having sex, like he wasn’t missing the simple touch of a woman or man. masturbating wasn’t keeping him sane for long, not when he didn’t have anything to masturbate to. then he began to focus his attention onto you.

you were attractive, and luke couldn’t hold back how his short glances turned to stares. his jaw ticks, lips parting, “i want you to wear shorter skirts.”

“mini skirts?” you blink at him, he had called you to his office, and his eyes were traveling over your body every second he got.

“yeah,” he pauses, “and lower cut shirts.”

before your lips can even part, he dismisses you, and bluntly stares at your ass when you walk away. it was so ironic, luke used to be such a virgin, a complete loser, but now he was nothing short of the opposite. he was cocky, he knew he was handsome, he knew people were attracted to him easily, mostly sexually.

if luke was lucky, at some stops, he might be able to bring back a few women or men home with him, they always gawked at the ship, told him how cool it is that he has a boat, that he’s a captain, and has a crew, that everyone does everything for him.

they thought it was hot, so they wanted to do things for him to, he’d take them to his quarters, and provide them with red wine before moaning could be heard all throughout the ship.

but his boat was in the middle of the sea, and has been for a month or so now, and he felt like he was going insane.

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🍷

luke was struggling to sleep, insomnia was getting the best of him, he thought that if he drank more and more wine, he would eventually wind down. he never did. he only got slopper, and aroused. the worst mix on nights like these was the bubbling frustration that he didn’t have anything to fuck, and the fact that he wanted to fuck something so bad.

his dick strains in his boxers, and his teeth grit together, mentally cursing himself for continuously offering himself one more drink, after the third glass, knowing he’d have a fourth, and a fifth. he’d drank the whole bottle, and he wasn’t even close to tired.

his body feels warm, so warm. you come to his mind almost immediately, making his his hands draw closer to the hem of his boxers. the way your ass looks in those skirts, the stockings that meet at the middle of your thigh, the sheer shirts that barely showed the color of your bra, the slight cleavage you show when leaning over to place paperwork on his desk.

he recalls the one time he had came into your room in the dead of night in search of a document, but he was immediately met with the floral of your perfume, and the way your blanket barely covered your naked form. he shouldn’t look, really, he should shy away and close the door, but he swallows thick seeing your breast, the slight parting of your legs, the way your cunt barely peeks out the messily moved blanket.

he wouldn’t have actually done it, of course, because he’s a respectable man who puts consent above all else— but he wonders what it would look like if he pushed your legs apart, moved the blanket, and spread your pussy open for him. to be sleeping naked, how scandalous. he’d never know that you purposefully put the document in your room when you knew you wanted it, you purposefully slept naked, you purposefully moved the blanket in those ‘messy’ ways.

he inhales sharply, fingers moving underneath the fabric of his boxers to graze over his cock. it’s so perverted, to think of you like this, to imagine pulling you onto his lap the next time you come into his office, fingers gripping your skin the same way they grip his cock now. you’d probably melt into his touch, so innocent, so pliant, your doe eyes staring at him like he’s the only man who had ever existed, like he’s a god. and that’s what he is, a captain, an emperor, a god.

he thinks of himself, and is immediately reminded of caligula.

the roman emperor in 31 AD, he was described by some as a tyrant, but in the beginning, he was one of the best leaders in ancient rome. he was just like luke, addicted to sexual acts, wanting all the finest things in life, and the worst part— luke was just as paranoid as him.

but that was of no worry now, he was too focused on the pleasure that coursed underneath his flesh, or the simple thought of pushing his dick into your cunt, making your eyes roll back with pleasure you’d only ever dreamed of. luke knew he could make you feel good, and eventually he would. he imagined all the positions he would push you into, on your back, on your stomach with your ass up, having you ride him— gods.

he wondered if whenever you tried to make excuses for being far too late at typing up a paper in time, he could just simply have you on your knees for him, fucking your mouth so you’d shut up. bruising your lips, ruining your lipstick, making you cry, all of those thoughts sends luke over the edge in no less than a minute or two.

his skin is sticky with sweat, fingers coated in his own cum, but all he wants is more.

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🍷

like mentioned before, luke had a madness problem.

ever since he had been cast out, he had this odd paranoia problem, he thought the gods would strike him down at any second, that they were watching his every move, or that percy jackson would find his way to his ship and kill him himself for all the damage he’s caused.

the lack of sex wasn’t the only thing driving luke mad, it was the cage of his own mind. the fact that he’s surrounded by the very thing that the man who’s responsible for percy’s existence owns, the sea. it all makes him sick, often times there will be crashing from his quarters in the late of night, but it always stopped as soon as it started.

this night was different, it just kept going. first something being pushed over, then the breaking of glass, more crashing, more shatters, yelling, some screaming— it was a nightmare. some of the crew woke up, but you were the only one who dared to take a step out onto the deck that night, let alone approach his quarters.

knock. knock. knock.

no response, a deafening silence underneath the crashing waves and the crackling of the candle in your hand.

knock. knock.

the lack of response is worrying. he almost always responds, either it’s to tell you to fuck off, or to come in. but now, nothing. he couldn’t have hurt himself, could he? you test the waters, fingers curling around the doorknob and turning it with the expectation for it to be locked as it always is.

it was unlocked. you push the door open, glancing in to see the mess that he had made of his own room, and him just simply sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. “luke?”

“captain,” he immediately mumbles out, a correction.

“captain,” you repeat, taking a step further inside, he has offered nothing against you being inside of his quarters. you are typically never allowed in here. you move to close the door behind you, placing the candle into the nearest holder that wasn’t completely destroyed.

you turn back to him, his head was raised to look at you, arms now lazily splayed onto his spread legs in his sitting position. he was a chronic manspreader, something you noticed, but seeing him faintly hunched over pathetically like this, tired eyes staring at you, sweat beading at his temple— he was so hot.

“are you okay?” you offer, voice as sweet as ever.

“am i okay?” he scoffs, a chuckle following after, he’s never chuckled in front of you before, “am i okay, am i okay—“ he hums, “what do you think, hm? you think i’m okay?”

his voice is confronting and harsh, like he wants to see you cower down, like he wants to break you like all the other things in his room. your brows furrow together for a second, “no..?”

“no, no, atta girl— you’re catchin’ on,” he smiles at you for the first time, “why don’t you help me feel better, yeah?”

you stare at him for a second, wondering if he meant what you thought he meant, “yeah.”

“yeah.” his voice is hushed, almost mocking, “c’mere.”

you immediately walk over to him in the ambient lighting, marking out your silhouette, stepping over all the things he’s knocked over. a grin tugs at his lips, cruel and cocky, he loves how easy you do anything he asks. his hand is gentle on your waist, pulling you closer, “so good for me.”

you nod at him, letting his hand guide you down to your knees, pupils dilated up at him so perfectly. his tongue swipes along the backside of his teeth, moving his hand to hold your jaw, tilting your head to properly look up at him. maybe it was wrong to fuck his assistant, someone working for him, but it just felt so right, all of this felt like it was in the prophecy.

his thumb swipes along your bottom lip, smearing the red lipstick there, of course you put that on before coming to his room. “so pretty,” he mumbles under his breath, dipping his finger between your lips and into your mouth. your lips curve up ever so slightly, leaning into his touch, lips closing around his flesh.

he takes it away from your mouth just as quick as it was slotted between your lips, moving to undo his belt, the veins in his hands shifted with each movement of his hands, first it was his belt, then his pants, then his boxers.

you always thought luke would have a big dick, he just has that certain cockiness that makes you think he couldn’t have a small dick and be acting the way he is, but this felt like it would hardly fit in your mouth.

you glance up at him, his amused stare which immediately turns to faux concern when you say, “i don’t think it’ll fit—“

“it will,” he immediately cuts in, prying your mouth open with his thumb whilst his free hand eases your head closer, “i’ll make it fit.”

your tongue runs along the vein at the bottom of his dick, already feeling the heaviness of it against the muscle in your mouth. you had sucked a few dicks before, sure, but this one was the biggest, and the cleanest. his hand holds your jaw when you start taking him into your mouth properly, tongue flat against the bottom of his cock, eyes peering up at him through heavy lids.

his lashes flutter pathetically, mouth falling open with your every movement, the way the saliva from your mouth coats him perfectly— he needed this. it felt like a dream coming right after a nightmare, he was exhausted, sweating from his breakdown, and you were sent to him right when he needed it, an angel on his shoulder.

but you’re going too slow, and luke’s growing restless from sitting so still. he can feel the ache of your jaw, but he wishes to make it worse somehow, as cruel as it sounds. his hand moves to the back of your head, hips ever so slowly bucking into your mouth, it was barely noticeable at first, until the sound of you sputtering and gagging around him fueled him more.

his thrusts quickly turned harsh, bruising, merciless.

he only paused when you slapped at his thigh pathetically, moving off to pant heavily, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. you looked so messy, so pathetic, lipstick smeared, eyes puffy from falling tears. “always wanted this, huh? i notice how you look at me, always running to my office any chance you get, such a slut.”

you nod at him, and that only makes him want to say more, “do you believe in god?”

“yes, yes,” the response is immediate.

“am i your god?”

you pause at him, processing, what would the best answer be?

yes, of course, that would be the best answer. in luke’s own mind, all this misery, all this destruction, all this betrayal, it was only the start of his story to reach the top. when caligula was next in line for the throne and his father was on his deathbed, he killed his own father with hardly any hesitation, then became one of the most memorable roman emperors alongside julius caesar.

luke had been planning the murder of hermes for a long, long time, ever since the first book about caligula he read. killing percy jackson was a failure, all several times, so he had no other choice than to just shoot for the stars.

luke’s eyes refocus onto the situation at hand rather than being stuck in his own mind, he had you pushed on your stomach with your ass up, the position he always wished to put you in, the position he’s put multiple other women and men in.

his hands smooth over your ass, memorizing the canvas that he wants to splatter paint over. there’s something so intimate about this whole ordeal, the dim lighting of sole candles in all the destruction around his room, the crashing of waves on the sides of the boat as it moves through the sea, the red wine that luke drinks from the bottle he had just picked up.

he hums at the taste, rich, perfect. “want some?”

you shake your head, and he tuts in faux disappointment, “no fun, aren’t you? just want me to fuck you? needy, needy.”

albeit his degrations, his tip presses to your entrance, lips pressing together when he pushes in— holy fuck, you were tight. luke’s breathing is ragged, he feels as though your pussy is desperately trying to squeeze an orgasm out of him in seconds. it only worsens when you accidentally glench, making his teeth grit together, he coughs out a bitter chuckle, “you did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“no, nono—“ it was too late for the begging for forgiveness, his thrusts were already brutal, slamming into you without a single regard for how much pain it would leave you in, in the morning. caligula was a possessive lover, a harsh fucker, a man ruled by jealousy and madness— luke castellan was born from the same map of caligula.

his hands grip your hips harshly, punching out sweet moans from your bitten lips with every thrust, “fuck, fuck! luke!”

luke’s tongue prods at the inside of his cheek for a mere second before his hand suddenly moves to the back of your head, harshly tugging your hair back, “captain.”

another correction.

as soon as your back hits his chest, his hand moves from your hair to your neck, gripping the delicate skin there tight. he ignores your attempts to get his attention by placing sloppy, open mouthed kisses to his jaw, leaving his skin stained with your lipstick. his eyes were too focused on the mirror placed in front of him, of course he had one there, it was cracked, but he was still able to make out the way your skin trembled underneath him, the way his thrusts sent shivers up your spine, the way he easily made you cock drunk.

it didn’t take long for him to have you cumming on him as well, in which he followed soon after with a gritted out fuck.

luke’s eyes may be glazed over when he looks back in the mirror, but he doesn’t see himself in his position, he sees caligula.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan blurb #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan oneshot #pjo luke #charlie bushnell imagine #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell x you #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell smut

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goddessofwisdom-7 · 4 months

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Bane of Existence

Luke Castellan x reader

Description: Luke spends a few moments with you alone

A/N: So, Luke is canonically 19 years old during lightning thief so I've gone ahead and written an unhinged and mildly suggestive short. I like the concept of an unhinged pov ngl.

Luke plans on poisoning Percy. It's a desperate plan, in your opinion. And a stupid one. Percy is a child. The entire plot to overthrow the gods is fine, but there was no need to hurt other demigods.

"You're crazy Luke," you mumble, breaking your kiss. Your mouth remains close to his, breathing air into each other's lungs. The two of you'll have been hiding away all alone for quite some time, and looking at his kiss-swollen lips you lean forward to nip at them once more, "absolutely insane."

If other children were hurt in the process, you'll would be no different from the gods. But he refused to see reason. And for all his vices, you would not stop him from following through with this crazy plan and running away with him.

"We're going through with this plan baby," He says, catching your wrists tightly and taking two of your digits into his mouth, trailing his tongue down your skin and scraping his teeth lightly. Languid, sinful.

Sighing, you relax in his hold, a low heat simmering in your belly.

You liked Percy; of course, he's a sweet kid and it sucks that he's caught right in the middle of this disaster but you made your choice to stand by Luke years ago.

The two of you'll have borne witness to the most vulnerable parts of each other. The emotional and physical. He has experienced all your crevices as you have his. There is no alternate option to him. The world will burn, wholly and entirely, many will die but in the end Luke will crawl back into your arms and you will accept him each time.

For all the time he sounds with you in you he has created a space for himself between your ribs and that's where he resides in the quiet moments. You allow this because who else would you allow other than the love of your life.

You pull your fingers out of his mouth and clutch his jaw, wet digits pressing the shape of his cheekbones.

"We better not end up dead immediately babe."

He smirks, and oh yes, you're gonna spend the rest of your days with this man, "yes boss."

You press another harsh kiss on his lips before taking him up into your arms and he wraps his arms around you, encompassing you and hums. You are his bane as much as he is yours. He'd lick your blood and sweat like nectar, cut the two of you'll open only to sew you'll together.

There's no going back now.

The warmth of his breath burns your neck and you savour it. These are your last moments of peace before pandemonium.

*****************************************************************************

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fic rec #pjo fanfic #percy jackson #luke castellan #pjo fandom #pjo x reader

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mikkomacko · 2 months

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Him and I

Y'all asked and I have done my best to deliver! This ended up being sooo long and I have so much more I want to write so pls pls pls send in requests for mob boss Nico! Enjoy x

Pairing: Nico Hischier x reader

Warnings: cussing, sexual language, mentions of weapons, blood, violence

~~~~

The room rings loud with the clattering of dishes, silverware scraping platters, drink glasses clinking together, but most of all laughter.

You watch the bubbles in your champagne glass fizzle up towards the rim, smiling softly at the way Nico’s chest shakes with laughter against your side. The arm around your waist tightens every time he chuckles, the fingers on your thigh digging into your bare skin.

You’re not listening to whatever Timo is saying that has him laughing like this, but it doesn’t matter to you. All that you care about is that he’s safe at home, happy and having fun with his family.

Looking up from your glass, you take in the room. The overly large dining table is filled with men and boys, everyone crowded over messy dinner plates and drinks. Holtz is feeding scraps to the towering Saint Bernard Nico gifted you when you moved in with him, laces of drooling pooling under the dog’s mouth.

You place your hand over Nico’s on your thigh, slipping your fingers between his calloused ones when he flips his palm over for you. Neither of you say a word, him caught up in conversation and you still admiring the boys in front of you.

Jack and Luke catch your eye, the two brothers bickering a few seats over from you. They’re smirking and poking at each other with their silverware, whatever teasing words falling from their lips lost to you. They’re so endearing, you think as they mock each other, a testament to true brotherhood. Before you can get too sappy over how much they love each other, you realize Luke has stupidly wrapped his hand around the blade of a steak knife Jack had pointed at him.

The warning words are on the tip of your tongue when Jack tugs the knife back and you roll your eyes as blood immediately seeps out from Luke’s clenched fist.

“Jack!” You scold, setting your champagne glass on the table and rising from Nico’s lap. It’s at that moment that the rest of the table realizes crimson red blood is pooling into Luke’s lap and Jack is holding the stained knife.

Rushing around the corner of the table, you tug a cloth napkin off of Daws lap as you rush to Luke. Almost helplessly he pushes his chair out, holding his hand out to you with wide eyes. The wound has begun making a mess on the white marble floors and you dog the splatters of red to get closer.

He opens his hand and you wrap the cloth around it tightly, holding his hand tightly and nudging him up from his seat with a hand on his back.

“Cleaned by the time I get back.” You tell Jack, who’s watching you with a guilty hunch to his shoulders.

“Come on Luke,” you murmur. Tugging the knife from Jack’s palm, you place it on the table and point to the floor. He simply nods, letting you lead Luke off to the bathroom to take care of his hand.

Nico finds you ten minutes later standing over Luke, first aid kit splayed out on the bathroom counter. The young boy sits on the closed toilet seat, his hand held out to you as you finish the last couple stitches.

“How’s he looking boss?” Nico greets, sliding up behind you and looking over your shoulder. Like always, the stitches are clean and neat.

“A little stupid,” you tease, tying off the thread. Nico steps back so you can place the needle and scissors down, swiping a wet rag over Luke’s palm before you wrap a bandage around it.

He tentatively flexes his hand, wincing slightly before looking up at you with a bright smile. That smile fades when he sees the way you’ve got your hands on your hips, one eyebrow cocked.

“What?” He asks, eyes looking between you and Nico. You jab a finger into his shoulder and he flinches, rubbing at the spot as if you could actually hurt him.

“If I ever see you grab the blade of a knife like that I’m kicking your ass and then calling your mother.”

Luke deflates at your words, sullenly nodding. You stare him down for a moment before motioning towards the door. “Go. Drink some water and make Jack get you a cookie.”

He scampers away like a kicked puppy, disappearing down the hallway. Before you can even move, Nico is sliding up behind you again and wrapping his arms around your middle.

His nose brushed the side of your neck, the messy strands of his hair tickled your ear. “That was sexy,” he mumbled lowly, his voice just a rumble. “I like see you get all stern with the boys.”

Butterflies warmed your belly, fluttering in circles beneath his large palms. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, kissing softly at your skin. “So hot seeing my baby boss everyone around…” he dots more kisses along your neck, his breath hot and sticky. Instinctively you melt into his hold, knees growing weak from his attention.

“and then go you’ll go upstairs tonight and bend over for me, won’t you?”

Heat rises to your face, and you’re unsure if it’s embarrassment at his words or because he’s right.

You stand up straight and shove his hold off in favor of cleaning up the bathroom. Nico snickers behind you and when you meet his gaze through the bathroom mirror, he’s smirking.

“Go make sure my house is cleaned up,” you demand through a pout, trying to shake off his teasing. “Or there will be no bending over from me.”

He looks you up and down, his gaze returning to yours and he drops his left eye in a wink. “Yes ma’am,” he complies, smirk still plastered on his face as he lovingly smacks at your ass before leaving.

Deciding to leave the night to Nico, you disappear upstairs to change and wash up for bed. By the time you tiptoe back to the dining room everything has been cleared away and all the boys sent home.

You find your boyfriend in the kitchen, standing over the sink with his back to you. He must not have heard you over the sound of the water running so you take a moment to just watch him.

He’s abandoned the button up he was wearing earlier and now just a skimpy, see through white tank top stretches over his back and shoulders. With each scrub of the wine glasses he’s washing, the ridges of his back dip and rise, pulling that thin fabric even tighter.

You don’t know how long you stand there watching him, but you don’t move until he’s setting the last glass out to dry. His wet fingers tuck his hair behind his ear before reaching for a dishcloth. It’s then that he catches sight of you over his shoulder and he turns, tangling his hands in the fabric and leaving back against the counter.

“Sneaky, aren’t ya?”

You bite back a smile, slinking towards him with a shy little shrug. “Mhmmm,” you draw out, letting your hands slide around his waist. He widens his stance, lets your feet step between his so you can press up close to him.

Nico tosses the rag onto the counter, his dry hands coming up to hold either side of your face. He tilts your chin up until you hold his gaze, the warmth of his dark eyes washing over you like sunshine. Despite his stature and his lifestyle, you’ve never thought of Nico as anything more than a sweetheart.

He’s the most gentle, loving, and kind person you’ve ever met. You take in his features, wonder how anyone can see anything more than his soft lips and scruffy beard that love tickle your face, the straight nose that tucks into the top of your head when he holds you, and the puppy dog eyes that admire your every move.

A gentle smile lifts his lips, dimples sinking into his cheeks and you bask in the light of it. Chuckling quietly, he dips down to kiss the tip of your nose.

“Come on baby,” he says, dropping his hands to your hips and walking you back towards the stairs. “Let me take you to bed.”

Reluctantly you turn around, reaching behind you for his hand to guide him through the house and up to the bedroom. On your way you spot the dog splayed out on his large bed in the living room, and you smile knowing Nico will happy about that.

Once in the bedroom, Nico drops your hand in favor of pawing at your ass and hips. You shake his hands off, turning to wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his. He pulls you into him, gripping the back of your thighs and hoisting you up onto the mattress.

Crowding over you, Nico lays between your parted thighs. You tangle your fingers in his hair and draw his mouth back down to yours. He presses the bulge of his jeans into you, groaning softly when you buck your hips up into him.

“Nico,” you breathe out when he trails his mouth across your jaw, dipping down to the column of your throat.

A mumble of approval rumbles in his chest, his teeth nipping at your skin and you know he’s gonna leave a mark.

“Say my name baby,” he mutters into your skin, snaking a hand between the two of you so he can rub at your clit through your pajama bottoms.

“Oh Nico-“

An all too familiar ringtone makes you both freeze, his phone vibrating in the pocket of his sweats. Laying your head back on the mattress, you try not to sigh in disappointment as he huffs and moves back to dig the stupid phone out.

“What?” He answers, still kneeling between your spread legs. His left hand still strokes up and down your thigh, his eyes following the movement like he’s trying not to look too closely at you.

“Timo man I can’t do this right now- no I-what do you mean?”

By now you know this a call Nico’s going to have take care of himself so you gently push yourself up, taking a hold of his hand and sitting criss cross in front of him.

Nico huffs, squeezing your fingers. “Yeah, come stay with her. I’ll be there in 20.”

Without so much as a goodbye he’s hanging up the phone, tucking it back into his pocket. Nico sighs, hanging his head and taking a few deep breaths. You’re unsure if he’s trying to prepare for whatever was on the other end of that call or if he’s trying to get rid of the hard-on you were previously grinding on so you just stroke through his hair, pushing the loose strands out of his face.

After a moment he rises from the bed, bringing your hand up to his lips for an apologetic kiss. “M’so sorry baby but I gotta go. Timo got word that the Rags are screwing around on this side of the river.”

You simply nod, knowing this was part of the deal when you decided to be with Nico. He leans down again, kissing your lips just once with gratitude. “I promise I’ll be back soon and we’ll finish this.”

Giggling, you shoo him away and lay back on the bed to watch him slip on his zip up and shove his feet into some shoes.

“Timo is coming to stay with you until I get back.” Nico says, his tone all business as he stuff his things into his pockets and slides his ring back onto his pinky finger.

“He didn’t have to,” you say, climbing up from the bed when Nico begins digging through the top dresser drawer. You reach into his nightstand, grabbing the pocket knife you know he was looking for.

“I would’ve been fine,” you approach him, holding the knife out. “But thank you.”

Nico smiles, taking the weapon from you with a chaste kiss. “S’just in case,” he explains, tucking his hand into his jacket pocket. You reach for his necklace, pull out the Devils horn charm and cross so that it gleams on the dark fabric of his track suit.

“Ok, I’ll be back soon baby girl.” Nico says in goodbye and you press a kiss to his cheek before walking him down to the garage. Just as he’s leaving, the familiar headlights of Timo’s BMW pull in the drive and you head to the living room, ready for a movie night with your best friend.

The sun hasn’t even begun to rise when you wake up, disturbed by the empty space on the bed next to you. On your nightstand, the alarm clock reads 3:47 and you frown when you realize it’s been hours since Nico left.

Pushing back the covers, you tiptoe away from the bed and towards the door. If Nico’s not home, you doubt Timo has actually gone to bed so you carefully pad down the stairs and to the living room.

Just as you suspected, Timo is pacing back and forth in front of the couch, the dog watching him with alert eyes. You enter the room, reaching down to pet your good boy when he slinks down from the couch to sit by your feet.

“Haven’t heard from him?” You ask when Timo looks up from his phone at you. He’s got dark circles under his eyes, hair mussed like he’s been tugging at it. “Like at all?”

Timo shakes his head, a guilty frown tugging his lips down. A surge of anger flushes through you and you almost throw something at him for it. He should’ve woken you up hours ago when I became clear that something was wrong.

“What phone does he have with him?” You ask, swallowing down your frustration and anxiety. Nico taught you what to do, how to act. You know how to be in charge.

“His red one but the signal went out at 12 and I haven’t been able to ping it.”

Scoffing, you cross your arms over your chest and push past him. Like a lost puppy he follows you, as does your actually puppy. Nico’s office is unlocked, the door cracked open and you push inside with the two stragglers right behind you.

“What are you doing?”

You sit at his desk, shaking the mouse to wake up his computer and the bright screen burns at your tired eyes. Clicking out of Nico’s account, you quickly pull up the one you’d made when you moved in.

Timo comes to stand behind you, watching you type in your childhood nickname as the user and NicosHotA$$$ for the password. He snickers behind you and in any other situation you’d probably giggle with him, but you’re still upset that he didn’t wake you earlier.

“Does he know you have this?” Timo asks, leaning in closer over your shoulder. You quickly pull up the software you were looking for, the login to the tracking app popping up. You enter the same credentials, only hesitating for a moment. You haven’t used this software since you set it up, not having a reason to. It was for emergencies and emergencies only.

“No he doesn’t,” you finally answer, logging in and letting the map load. After a brief second of buffering, the screen focuses in on a bright red dot sitting just off to the side of the Hudson River.

“You chipped him?!”

Scoffing, you snatch a piece of paper off the oak desk and a ball point pen, scribbling the address down.

“No I chipped his watch,” you respond “after he assigned you to follow me 24/7 I figured I deserved the same kind of security for him.”

You log out, making sure to put everything back how Nico had it before shutting the computer off. “Let’s go, you’re driving.” You instruct, “I just need to change real quick.”

Timo physically bawks, looking at you like you’re crazy. “Nico will kill me if I let you go anywhere.”

“If you don’t, I’ll kill you and then I’ll kill Nico.”

Your threat hangs in the air, Timo now silent as he just looks at you. He must be analyzing his next move, trying to figure out a way to stop you but he knows his place.

He may technically be Nico’s right hand man, but you’re the bosses girl. When Nico’s not in charge, you are. It’s unspoken, but he knows.

“Fine,” he agrees. “I’ll go start the car.”

~~~~

Nico has no idea how long he's been sitting in this stupid warehouse with this stupid cloth between his teeth and this stupid thick ass rope around his wrists and ankles. If it had been duct tape he'd been outta here hours ago, back home rolling around in the sheets with you where he belongs.

But this isn't his first rodeo with the Rags, and they've learned their lesson about tying any of his men up with duct tape. Nico's trained them well, taught them to take care of themselves. Especially since the Rags have a thing for holding the Devs hostage, though this is the first time they've managed to grab him.

It's because he was distracted, head still swirling with thoughts of his hands on your thighs, his finger touching and teasing you, winding you up until you were crying his name.

Next thing he knew, his little rumble in the bar alley with Trouba and Kreider was him being sucker punched unconscious and waking up in this stupid, bitter cold room.

And no one has come to talk to him, to threaten him, nothing. It's all feeling useless.

He's wiggling his wrists, the skin raw and no doubt bleeding now, when he hears stirring above his head. His head is a little too foggy to really put the sounds together, but he's certain he hears a body thud to the ground. There's some more grunting and thuds, and Nico relaxes a bit when he realizes Timo probably sent Siegs or Haula after him.

For the first time that night he hears the grinding of a door being yanked open, followed by heavy footsteps and he wishes his stupid chair was facing the other way so he could see who it is. He doesn't have to play the guessing game too long though before the large figure of Timo is stepping into view.

Nico almost yanks his way through the rope at the sight of him, thrashing against his restraints as he glares at his brother in disbelief. One job, Timo had one job, stay with you always. For all they now this could've been planned, Rags could be hounding on you right now because him and Timo left you vulnerable.

"Would you calm down she's fine." Timo grumbles in defense, tucking his handgun into the waist of his pants in favor of yanking the cloth out of Nico's mouth.

"I told you not to leave her alone, fucker! She's-"

He's cut-off by an all too familiar voice. "Sneaky, right?" You run your fingers through his sweaty hair at the nape of his neck, soothing him for just a moment before working at the knot in the cloth. It loosens, drops from his neck and into his lap.

Timo has retrieved his gun again, keeping a close eye on the door behind Nico. The click of a blade cuts through the room and the rope on his wrists goes taut.

“What are you doing here?” He grumbles, wincing at the pull on his wounds.

You finish cutting through the rope, his arms falling limply behind him. “Sorry my love,” you murmur, fingers gently taking in the torn skin. “I was just saving you.”

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you sounded sweet, like you were coddling him as you realized he was hurt. But he does know better, and he can sense the impatience and annoyance bubbling under your words.

Oh he’s in for an ear full.

Still, he’s never been one to back down so he challenges you a bit. “I have men for that, ya know?”

You release his wrist and he slowly draws his hands around and into his lap, flexing his shoulders to try and get the blood back to his fingertips. He can already feel the ache in his chest and back and he wonders how the fuck you let him hold you like that on his more aggressive nights in bed.

“Men that couldn’t even find you.” You quip back, and he catches your hip as you go to step around him. His hold doesn’t stop you though, and he watches as you kneel down in front of him to cut through the rope at his ankles.

You’ve listened to him well it seems, or just really paid attention because any identifying marks of yours have been covered. Head to toe in black, thick sturdy boots that mimic the ones he wears on particularly dangerous deals, and all jewelry removed. Well everything except the thin gold chain on your neck, the charm tucked into your long sleeve shirt. And the tell-tell red bandana knotted around your face, hiding everything but your eyes.

Smart girl, he thinks, trying not to smile. He’ll praise you for it later, when you’re somewhere safe.

The rope snaps free, your eyes peering up at him through your dark lashes and the bits of your hair that hangs over your face. You don’t say anything, gaze dark and angry as you flick the knife away and sit back on your haunches. Nico immediately stretches his legs out around you, belly swirling when he takes in the sight of you kneeling between his thighs.

You raise an eyebrow, lifting your hand to hold the knife out to him and he realizes you’ve managed to get back his pocketknife. He melts a bit at that, grateful that you thought to look for it, that you always remember its ties to his family back in Switzerland.

He takes it from you, fingers still a bit numb as they wrap around the weapon. Now that your hand is free you lean in, holding onto his knee for balance while the other one reaches up for his face.

You gently stroke right under his eye, a sting of pain ripping through his cheek and he realizes that’s where he’d been hit. You frown, eyebrows pinching together. “Hopefully you haven’t ruined that pretty face with a scar, boss.”

Behind you, Timo snickers and Nico glares at him, catches the way he’s fighting to not look at the two of you and instead watch the door. Whatever he did up there must have been enough damage though because it’s dead silent.

“I know a good doc,” he replies casually, nodding for you to stand up. “She won’t let it scar.”

He rises with you, wobbly on his feet as the feeling rushes back to them and his head spins for a moment. You immediately press into his side, slipping under his arm like you belong there, and steady him.

“She might,” you say flatly, and he chuckles, pressing a kiss into the top of your head. He really is proud of you, can’t believe that you came to get him even if he’s gonna give you grief about it.

It’s his job to be tough on you, on everyone.

“Let’s get moving,” Timo cuts in, looking to Nico for his next move. He nods to the door, telling him to the lead way. You’re silent on your feet as you walk with Nico and he makes a mental note to ask you how you manage to do that.

Upstairs, he finds exactly what he expected. Bodies lay limp on the ground, chairs and table strewn about the large room. He can’t make out who is who but he immediately recognizes Trouba laying closest to the door, lip busted and bleeding and the whole side of his face already bruising in what looks like the shape of a boot.

He’ll have to ask Timo about that one too.

~~~~

The rising sun shines through the bedroom windows. Nico runs a towel through his wet hair, wincing at the stiffness in his shoulders and the way the light makes his eyes ache.

Before he can so much as grumble about it, you’re entering the bedroom and hitting the switch on the wall to lower the blackout curtains.

You changed while he was showering, back into the cute set of pink silk pajamas you had on earlier in the night and Nico wants to rub his hands all over you, let the soft fabric soothe his angry wrists.

But you haven’t said a word since leaving the warehouse, except to send Timo off to bed in a guest bedroom and instructing he take the dog with him so he doesn’t get lonely.

Tossing the towel into the hamper, Nico collapses onto the bottom of the bed, shoulders slumping forward as he watches you move around the room. You ignore his gaze, digging through the drawers and bathroom until you come up with a first aid kit.

Finally, you approach him, eyes avoiding his as you kneel in front of him again. Compliant, Nico parts his thighs further you, silently begging you to come closer.

You don’t though, instead gently taking ahold of his ankles and drawing his feet out to you. He lets you manhandle him, relaxes into the mattress as you softly massage numbing cream into the bruises on his skin.

And then you’re moving closer, taking a hold of his hands with your soft, warm fingers and he gives in, feels everything ache in his chest.

“Baby,” he mumbles pathetically, “talk to me? Please?”

You trace over the mark his watch left on his wrist, face still hiding from him. “I chipped your watch,” you admit quietly. “That’s how I found you.”

He can’t say he’s angry or upset with the news. He’s the one that taught you about surveillance, about protection. How in this life, you have to be used to someone always watching you. He just wasn’t used to anyone watching him.

He is surprised though, at how you managed that. The watch was from Switzerland, designed by his family and gifted to him. He doesn’t know how you got the chance to chip it.

“Ok,” he replies, making sure to keep his tone even. “You saved me, ya know?”

You reach into the kit for a roll of bandages. “Yeah,” you wrap the gauze around his right wrist, actions a bit rougher than before “and you gave your men orders to leave me at home like a dog.”

Nico frowns at your town, bitter and biting. You don’t talk to him like that, in all the time you’ve been together he’s never heard you like that. It makes his heart sink, makes him want to crumble to his knees in front of you right now.

You finish wrapping his other wrist, dropping his hands heavily into his own lap. Then you finally look up at him, eyes angry and disappointed. Nico can’t help himself, he takes a hold of your face and draws you up towards him.

“Don’t give me those stupid puppy eyes, Nico.” You mutter, voice rising as he pouts down at you. “I found you, I got Timo off his ass, I got your knife back, and I got you back.

“I did it all and you didn’t trust me to! For fucks sake I knocked out stupid Trouba and you still wanted to rip Timo’s head off for-“

“You knocked Trouba on his ass?” Nico cuts off, a smirk spreading across his face. The sight of him dimples must soften something in you because he manages to get you to your feet.

“That was your cute little boot print on his face?” He prods, coaxing you into sitting on his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You reach for the chain around his neck, fingers taking a hold of the pendant and stroking over the devil horns. Bashful, a tiny smile plays at your face and Nico can’t stop himself for kissing at the tip of your nose.

“He messed with you,” you mumble, softer than you’ve spoken to him all night. “And I love you and being a Dev means protecting who you love.”

Nico’s breathless, swept off his feet by the earnest of your words and the memory of them. The same words he’d told you before giving you your own devil horn pendant. He’d said it soften up the conversation, because telling you everything about being a mob wife was rough, but at the end of the day he meant it.

The Devils are a family, a family built by love and he was so fucking smart and lucky to bring you into this. He’d never ever gotten close to even discussing a prinzessin with his family, until he met you.

Obviously that was the best decision he’s ever made.

“You made me proud,” he cups your jaw, urging you to look up at him. “You always do, but especially tonight.

“I was scared to let you get to this side of things because I’ve never done this. I’ve never ruled with someone but after tonight, I know I couldn’t have asked for a better prinzessin to have by side.”

Your teeth sink into your lip, a blush rising in your neck and ears but your eyes have gone all moony and lovesick. He loves that look on you.

“That’s a big word for you to use,” you mumble, a hopeful lilt in your tone. “I don’t even have a ring yet.”

Chuckling, he presses a kiss to your cheek and then your chin and finally on your smiling lips. “You will,” he confirms “and you’ll by my princess.”

You tangle your hands in his hair, giggling as you yank him into another kiss. Nico lets himself get lost in you, pulls you close and holds you tight in his large palms. His brain swirls, the pain of his injuries fading as he losses his breath and himself.

His hands are wondering towards your ass when you pull back from him, lips swollen and messy as you giggle.

“Enough of that boss, I gotta fix that pretty face of yours and you need rest.”

Yeah, the best fucking decision he’s ever made was letting you into his life.

#nico hischier #mob boss au #mob boss nico hischier #new jersey devils #nhl #nj devils #nico hischer x reader

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corroded-hellfire · 10 months

Text

Pixie Dust and Dates - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Trying to get over your crush on your boss Eddie, you’re going on a date after you finish babysitting tonight. So, why do things seem to get tense between the two of you when he finds out?

Note: Needed a little jealous Eddie in my life. This takes place before part one so I guess it’s a bit of prequel. I hope you enjoy! 🩵

Warnings: older!eddie, babysitter!reader

Words: 2.8k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Luke, are you not going to let me leave?”

The little boy hangs onto your waist, his little feet on each of yours. A devious giggle leaves his lips as he buries his face into your stomach.

“Never!” the little boy cries. “You’re my prisoner!”

“Oh no!” you feign gasp. “Whatever shall I do?”

Ryan jumps up on the couch and does his best superhero pose with his hands on his hips. “I’ll save you!”

“No, she’s stuck with me forever!” Luke says, tightening his hold on you. It’s sweet, but he’s also getting pretty heavy on your feet.

“She’s got school, ya know,” Ryan says as he jumps down from the couch.

“She can come to school with me,” Luke reasons.

Ryan rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Can you believe this guy? you can practically hear him say.

“She’s in college, Luke. She could teach your kindergarten class.”

“All right, you two, that’s enough squabbling.”

“But do you have school?” Luke asks, looking up at you.

“It’s Friday,” you say, poking the tip of his nose with your pinky. “It’s just like you, I don’t have to go until Monday. But I do have plans for tonight and tomorrow. So you can’t hold me prisoner forever!”

“Whatcha doin’ tonight?” Luke asks, grip loosening on you only slightly.

“Well,” you say as you feel your face getting warm. There’s no harm in telling them the truth, right? It’s nothing bad and you don’t want to lie to them. So, why is there a sinking feeling in your stomach about the Munson’s knowing you’re going on a date? Just because you’re head over heels for your boss doesn’t mean you’re cheating on him by going on a date. But that’s what it feels like for some reason. All of your emotions are so consumed by one man who is married and has beautiful children and now it’s so bad you feel guilty over going on a date with a guy from your history class. The boys are still looking at you expectantly as your mind wanders off. “Oh, um, I’ve got a date.”

“A date?” Ryan asks with the most adorable grin.

“Yes, a date,” you reply, face getting hotter by the second.

“Oooooh!” Luke coos, smirking up at you and looking identical to his father. His wonderful, beautiful father. “Where ya going?”

“Dinner and a movie.”

“What’s his name?” Ryan asks.

“Peter.”

Luke gasps and gives your aching feet some relief as he jumps off of you. “Like Peter Pan?”

“Or Peter Parker,” you say.

“Who?” Luke asks, scrunching up his nose.

“Spider-Man!” Ryan informs his little brother.

Luke shrugs, not caring about the web-slinging superhero. “Peter Pan is better.”

Ryan gasps and begins to excitedly jump up and down in front of you. “Ooh! Ooh! Can we play Peter Pan?”

“How do we play that?” you ask.

“I mean like, play pretend,” Ryan explains. “I can be John, Luke is Michael, and you’re Wendy!”

“Who’s Peter then?” Luke asks with a huff, obviously wanting to be the main character.

“Daddy,” Ryan says, turning to him. “When he gets home and comes in the door it’ll be like when Peter comes in the window!”

Luke crosses his arms over his tiny chest, not sold on the idea. “Who’s Mom? Tinker Bell? They got the same hair color.”

“Mom is Captain Hook.” Ryan answers so quickly and with such conviction that it’s a struggle for you to hold in a bark of laughter. The kid is right, their mom is definitely the one most suited to play a villain. “She’s Hook because when she comes home, she’ll make us stop playing the game. The bad guy!” The words break your heart. You’re not sure which is worse: the fact that the words are true or the fact that Ryan has learned how cold and uncaring his mother is at such a young age.

The younger Munson brother looks more convinced of the game now, his arms dropping to his sides and his shoulders relaxing.

“Where’s Tinker Bell? And Nana?” Luke asks, apparently looking for plot holes in his big brother’s imaginary scenario.

“Well,” you say, “Tinker Bell is a pixie. So she’s so tiny that it’s hard to see her. She could be anywhere!”

Mollified by that answer, Luke nods his head. “And Nana?”

“Nana didn’t go to Wonderland,” you say.

“Neverland!” Ryan corrects, his face full of offense at the fact that you would mix those two up.

“Right, right, Neverland, sorry. Second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning!”

Ryan looks around the room and gasps, pointing to a spot about three feet above your head. “There’s Tinker Bell! We need some pixie dust so we can fly!”

You stand on your tippy toes, game to play along, and reach your arm up as far as it can go. Concentrating, as if you’re almost reaching something, you close your fist over the empty air and stand back down on flat feet.

“I got her!” you say. “Come here and I’ll sprinkle the dust on you!”

Luke hops over and stands underneath your cupped hands. You pretend to sprinkle some pixie magic on him before doing the same to Ryan. The older boy holds his arms out to the sides like an airplane and runs around to the other side of the couch.

“We can fly!” he shouts. “Come on, Michael, Wendy!”

“We’re coming,” you tell him, ushering Luke to go in front of you. The three of you run around the house with your arms out, pretending to be soaring through the sky on your way to the mystical home of Peter Pan.

Ryan stops for a moment and purses his lips. He looks deep in thought before he bolts down the hallway and into his room. There’s a handful of action figures in his arms when he re-emerges. It’s an assorted bunch containing The Hulk, a Ghostbuster, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, and a GI Joe. You’re even more curious as to what he’s doing when he walks into the bathroom with them.

“Uh, Ryan?” you ask, heading down the hall towards him.

“It’s John,” he reminds you.

“Right, John. What are you doing, John?”

Ryan sets his action fingers up so they’re sitting on the rim of the bathtub.

“It’s Mermaid Lagoon!” he announces proudly.

“They’re boys,” Luke says.

“Mermen are a thing,” you say, ruffling his curls.

“Okay, where’s Skull Rock?” Luke asks. Ryan thinks for a moment before darting out of the bathroom and down the hall again. Luke chases after him but you take your time with a leisurely walk.

“It’s here! But it shrunk!” Ryan pretends to be baffled as he picks up a chunky silver skull ring of Eddie’s. It was sitting in a bowl that was on the table near the front door. Your only guess is that on days where his hands weren’t covered in dirt and grime, he had the rings in the perfect position to slip them on when he walked through the door.

“Maybe Tinker Bell shrunk it with her magic! Revenge for when Hook tried to kill Peter!” Luke adds.

If your logic is right—which you know it isn’t in this case of make believe—Ryan and Luke are talking in terms of the events of the Peter Pan movie already happening. Which means Hook would’ve been eaten (or maybe just chased) by the crocodile. The mental image of a cartoon crocodile chasing Brittany down the street is enough to make you giggle out loud.

“Wha’s so funny?” Luke asks, turning to you.

“Hmm?” you ask as you shake the fantasy from your head. “Oh. Just, um… Well, look!” you point up at the ceiling and drag your finger around as if you’re following something that’s moving. “It’s Peter’s shadow! It looks like he lost it again!”

“We have to get it for him!” Luke says.

“How do we do that?” Ryan asks, putting the ring back in the bowl.

“I think only Peter can catch it,” you say with a sigh.

“But you can sew it back on him again, right Wendy?” Ryan slash John asks.

“I will certainly do my best,” you tell him.

The front door opens and Luke races over. Eddie is prepared for the ambush and hoists his youngest son up over his shoulder.

“Hey, munchkin,” Eddie says.

“Hi, Peter.”

A confused frown grows on Eddie’s face, and he maneuvers the little boy so he’s holding him out in front of him and can look him in the eye. Luke giggles as he dangles from his father’s grip.

“Whatcha call me?” Eddie asks.

“Peter! You’re Peter Pan!”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow and looks over at you. “Is this some joke about me never growing up?”

You giggle and shake your head. “No, we’re playing pretend. You were unanimously elected to be Peter.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie muses and settles Luke on his hip, even though he really is too old to be held like that. “So, who are you, little dude? The dog?”

Luke huffs and rolls his eyes overdramatically. The apple clearly did not fall far from the tree. “I’m Michael.”

“And we’re John and Wendy!” Ryan tells him, proudly taking your hand in his.

“Well, why aren’t you flying then?” Eddie asks. Before either boy can ask him what he means, he lifts Luke over his head as the five-year-old giggles and holds his hands out in front of him. Eddie brings him over to the couch where he plops the boy down on the couch. Luke instantly scrambles up and tries to jump on his dad’s back. Eddie lets him and holds his son’s small legs as he wraps them around his waist.

“How ya doing, Wendy?” Eddie asks as he walks past you into the kitchen. “These lost boys aren’t driving you too crazy, huh?”

“Never,” you say, trying desperately not to ogle your boss. You clear your throat and rest your hands on Ryan’s shoulders, jostling him gently. “They make my days fun. How was work?”

“Eh, loud and greasy,” Eddie replies, pulling a beer out of the fridge. “Glad to be home.”

The smile he gives you has your knees feeling weak. Mentally, you berate yourself. This is exactly why you’re going on a date tonight. Peter is a nice enough guy but doesn’t really do anything for you. But when he asked if you’d like to get dinner as the two of you were leaving your shared history class, you agreed. The way you feel about Eddie quickly evolved from just thinking he was attractive as soon as you got to know him. His kindness, humor, gentleness, and wit quickly had you falling down the slippery slope of feelings. Hopefully, Peter could catch you with his own charm before you fell even further down the rabbit hole for Eddie.

“You gotta catch your shadow!” Luke’s words break you out of your small daze. The little boy is bouncing in his dad’s grip, gesturing towards the tall shadow on the kitchen floor. “Wendy has to sew it back on for you! Then you kiss!”

Both you and Eddie blanch at the five-year-old’s statement.

“Huh?” Eddie manages.

“After Wendy sews Peter’s shadow back on, she tries to kiss him!” Luke clarifies.

Dear God, I wish, you think.

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head, avoiding your eyes. He opens his mouth and you’re almost afraid of what he’s going to say. Luke beats him to the punch though, annoyed that the game has stalled.

“Daddy! Shadow!”

“Hurry, before she has to go!” Ryan adds.

“Yeah! She’ll be late! Late, for a very important date!” Luke laughs against his dad’s neck, finding it hilarious that he was able to quote another Disney movie.

“Date?” Eddie lets the refrigerator door slip from his grip, and it slowly slides closed. You think you’re imagining his hand tightening around his beer bottle but can’t help but hope that your boss doesn’t like the idea of you going out with someone.

“Uh, yeah,” you say, suddenly feeling nervous. That is ridiculous, you tell yourself. Eddie has never made you feel nervous–okay, that’s a lie. But a good, giddy kind of nervous.

“A boy from school?” Eddie asks, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a sip.

“Yep. From my history class.”

“He’s taking her to dinner and a movie,” Luke informs his father. Eddie’s head turns over his shoulder to look at his son, as if he’d just remembered he was there.

“Oh. T-That’s nice.” Eddie’s words have an edge to them, despite how casual he tries to make them sound. Luke releases his grip from his dad’s neck as Eddie crouches down to let the little boy down. He scampers out of the room, officially bored now, and Ryan looks between you and Eddie once before following behind his little brother.

“You, um,” Eddie says as he leans against the counter behind him, setting the bottle down. “You have to get going now? Get ready?”

Truthfully, you do. But leaving Eddie is always easier said than done.

“I guess I should,” you say with a shrug. As you move to leave the kitchen, Eddie steps forward and extends his arm as if he’s going to grab your arm but thinks better of it. Awkwardly, he shoves his hands in the pockets of his coveralls and clears his throat when you turn back to him.

“If, uh, you need anything…like, if he’s an asshole and you want to bail or um, anything else,” Eddie says, looking at you from underneath his impossibly long eyelashes, “just give me a call. I’ll come get you. Whenever and wherever.”

The offer has your heart swimming in your chest. Even if he doesn’t have feelings for you, Eddie definitely does care. Being so kind and thoughtful are two of the reasons you were already so crazy about the man, so this offer is doing nothing to dampen your feelings. It’s so touching though, that it gives you goosebumps.

“Thank you,” you say, giving him a small smile. “I really appreciate that.”

“Of course,” Eddie says before he clears his throat again. “As long as you’re safe.”

Unable to come up with anything else to say, you nod your head. A goodbye with Eddie has never felt this way before. Uncomfortable, yet you don’t want to escape it. How could you ever want to escape Eddie? You blame your own awkwardness and mentally scold yourself for projecting how you want Eddie to feel onto him.

“I’ll, uh, see you on Monday?” you finally ask.

“Yeah. Sounds good.” Eddie’s smile doesn’t meet his eyes, but neither does yours as you turn to walk out of the kitchen.

“Your homework better be done,” Brittany says as she thunks down a bowl full of microwaved macaroni and cheese. Eddie moves around her in the kitchen, his jaw squared and tense as he pulls the pork chops from the oven. Brittany and both boys keep glancing at him every time he slams something around on the counter.

“It is,” Ryan says of his homework as he takes his place at the dinner table.

“Luke?” Brittany basically snaps.

“Did it when I got home,” Luke says, reaching for the cheesy side dish. “Before we played Peter Pan.”

“Who did–oh, the babysitter?”

Luke frowns, not liking his mother’s tone or how she doesn’t refer to you by your name. Neither does Eddie, judging by the way he practically tosses the pork chops onto a platter.

“Yeah,” Luke answers his mother. “We played Peter Pan and then she had to go ‘cause she had a date.”

Eddie yanks his chair out from the table, the legs squealing against the floor at the ferocity with which he pulled it, so he can take a seat. He doles out a piece of pork to everyone’s plate, his knuckles white from holding the fork so tightly. Brittany just arches a recently-shaped eyebrow at her husband before returning to the conversation.

“A date, huh? Wow.” Her snark is clear, and Eddie has to bite his lip from barking out something he’ll regret.

“What’s wow?” Ryan asks as he jabs his fork into the mac and cheese on his plate.

“Oh, nothing,” Brittany says with a shake of her head. “Nothing at all.”

The table is quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from knives and forks working on the food. Ryan keeps sneaking peeks at his dad, wondering why he’s so unusually quiet. Normally, Eddie would be asking about their days at school and telling them about anything funny that happened at work today. His silence is making Ryan fidget in his seat. Brittany is the one to break the silence, though the three men silently wished she wasn’t.

“My sister is going to come over tomorrow. Eddie, did you hear me? Eddie?” Brittany glares daggers at her husband when he doesn’t answer, or even acknowledge her. But Eddie isn’t looking her way. Of course, this only irritates Brittany further.

“Eddie! Why in the hell are you staring at the phone like that?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #AYW #AYWS

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moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami · 22 days

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Reader as Persephone's only daughter? And she doesn't get into relationships bc of her mother's past as she was kidnapped by Hades?? Like History repeats itself with Luke being so obsessed with her and the reader doesn't know that she'll just end up like her mother

hello, hello! this one is definitely long overdue. i've been very busy with uni, but this ask was very intriguing!!! thank you for sending, anon ♡ (bonus scene at the end lol)

Luke Castellan wasn’t immediately taken by her the first time she set foot on Camp Half-Blood, that much was certain. She was only a topic of interest because she was Persephone’s daughter, promised yet unexpected all the same. He was far too caught up with claiming his own hoard of kleos to entertain ideas of attraction; however, she became a friend soon enough.

“What are you growing?” He asked her during a spring afternoon years ago, so insignificant that a normal person would forget it entirely.

“I don’t know yet actually.” She responded with pursed lips. Her open palms lingered just above the brown earth, colorful beads dangled from her wrists.

Luke raised an eyebrow.

At his silence, she looked up then waved a packet in front of him. She smiled. “Secret stash from Persephone.”

“Now, I’m not really the boss or anything but I think I’ve been here long enough to know the rules.” He perched his forearm against the bark of a tree, leaning his weight against it. “I don’t think that’s allowed.”

“But you wouldn’t tell on me, would you?” She batted her eyelashes sweetly, jokingly. She turned back to her lump of land. “‘Sides, they're harmless… I think.”

He remained silent and observed as a sprout quickly rose from the depths of her plot. A number of curved leaves on top leaning stems dotted the once empty ground. She rose from her knees, dusting off pellets of grass that hitched onto her clothing.

“That's it?” He asked her, sounding very unimpressed. Was this the extent of her god-gifted abilities?

She narrowed her eyes at him as she stretched. “I don’t give a show for free, Castellan.”

“What do you want in exchange, then?” He asked curiously. He wanted to see— witness what Persephone’s little seedling was capable of flowering.

She thought for a moment then shrugged her shoulders. She walked away from him with a wave. “Grow something of your own then we negotiate the terms.”

A few weeks later, he proudly paraded a plant pot all around camp in search of her. Most of the younger kids looked at him a bit judgmentally when he held it up like he was Rafiki and the little thing was his Simba.

She emerged from the greenhouse after several vexingly loud knocks. She looked down at Luke’s outstretched arms, her lips twitching in amusement at the container filled with inch-long two-leaved sprouts.

“Strawberries?” She pursed her lips. She motioned to the fields of berries sprawling to the left of them. “A bit unoriginal considering…”

“Well, you didn’t tell me I wasn’t allowed to grow strawberries.” He reasoned.

“Touché.” She ceded. She placed a hand over the pot, the sprouts growing exponentially before she took it from Luke's hands. She spent a handful of minutes transferring them into the dirt.

Luke watched silently, interested and intrigued by the alacrity with which she moved.

“Can you look away for a sec?” She spoke suddenly. She turned towards him, all seriousness. “The glaring is pressuring them. They’re a bit self-conscious.”

“Oh.” He looked away immediately, distracting himself instead with the silvers of light that shone through the canopy of branches of a tree not far from him. He listened to her hum as she worked. He couldn't help but return his gaze to her once in a while.

“Done!” She proclaimed excitedly, pulling off her gardening gloves with a satisfied look on her face.

Three strawberry bushes stood before him, taking up residence in what was an empty patch of land mere seconds ago. His lips parted slightly in surprise— it definitely wasn’t uncommon for demi-gods to inherit some of their parents’ powers, but he was startled by how quickly it manifested, especially for botanokinesis.

“Impressed enough?” She crossed her arms with a grin.

“Just the right amount.” He responded casually, returning her smile. He bent down to pick a big ripe berry from the branches.

He bit into it, the juices trickling down his chin. “Sweet.”

He offered the other half to her. She looked down at it skeptically before Luke urged her with a slight little shake from the bundle of leaves at the fruit’s head. She took it into her own hold then lifted it up to her mouth.

𓇢𓆸𓏲𓇬𑁍

In her iteration of the story, Luke wasn’t merely a stand-in for Hades. He wasn’t simply her captor— he was also her pomegranate. His smiles, his looks, his words, his lies, his charm and his wit were all the seeds she foolishly consumed over the years. She yearned desperately for the tart sweetness he offered and unknowingly caused her own captivity.

Bound, bent and broken: this was the fate of Persephone’s only child.

In the darkness of the night, with the hum of Luke’s faint snoring keeping her senses alive despite the late hour, she wondered to herself briefly: was this how her mother felt?

She paused at the thought. Surely, it was a thousand times worse for her mother— a dread and pain so unfathomable that she couldn’t even begin to imagine it. Persephone was innocent; she was tricked and taken advantage of. She, however, was complicit: ignorant at first, but willing to succumb to Luke’s pleas and promises even if she knew the horrors of what he was attempting to do.

“Can’t sleep?” He whispered suddenly, jolting her out of her reverie. His hand moved to rest against her hip, his thumb stroking comforting circles onto her skin.

“Hm,” She hummed absent-mindedly. She turned around to face him, breathing in the scent of sea and sweat that lingered on him— a glaring reminder of what he was getting himself into.

Luke caged his arms around her then pressed a kiss against her temple. "Mine."

"Yours." She responded softly.

He returned to sleep in a matter of seconds, but he held her firmly against him. She couldn’t escape even if she wanted to. She didn’t even want to, anyway.

She closed her eyes. Luke’s presence was her prison, and she was insane enough to willingly stay shackled, albeit metaphorically, regardless of how horrific that sounded.

This was her underworld— her own dauntingly lovely elysium.

BONUS scene from my first draft that i didn't continue writing:

“Well, what’s her master plan then?” She asked. “Why kidnap me?”

“You’re Persephone’s daughter.” He shrugged his shoulders, as if that was enough explanation as to why the leader of a rebellion against the gods wanted to kidnap the spawn of the Goddess of Spring— really, what did he think she was gonna do for him? Grow daffodils and tulips to distract his enemies? It didn’t seem like horticulture proved useful on the battlefield.

“I am not going to grow potatoes and peas for her little revolt, Castellan.” She scoffed.

Of course she knew why she was being held captive. Pretending to be foolish and ignorant never hurt anybody, though. Let him think she was dumbed down enough to bend to his will.

“You’re basically Hades’ daughter.” He continued, essentially bypassing her reply. It was a bit rude, honestly, but the fact that he kidnapped her showed plenty about the state of Luke’s manners.

“Careful what you say, Lukey.” She would’ve wagged her fingers if her wrists weren’t so tightly bound together. “You might just insult another one of the gods.”

Her relationship with her stepfather was… civil yet glacial at best; definitely on brand for him, actually. On her annual winter-break visits to the Underworld, he’d just ignore her for the most part (very understandable, there wasn’t much in common between an eons-old powerful god and a nineteen year old, except the angst probably, but that was a very awkward topic to breach with a father figure). Most of the time, she assumed he just tolerated her because of her mother.

“With you on board, Hades is going to think twice before attacking,” He explained further. He began to pace in front of her. “Your presence might even dissuade him from attacking at all.”

Oh. Oh.

“Sweetheart,” She called him softly with a condescending coo in her tone. “Oh, sweetie. You’re delusional.”

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo

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hughesurdaddy43 · 4 months

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Come over

Summary: I'm setting off. But not without my muse

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem reader

Note: IM sorry guys this one is actually so long so I cut it in half so the next part Ill post tomorrow & its gonna kill you

It's been three days since you've last seen Quinn. 72 hours since the two of you shared a kiss. 259,200 seconds of you replaying that moment in your head, over and over again.

Quinn had already left for his away game, and not seeing him in person again after he single handedly took your breath away was driving you crazy.

You sit on your couch, having yet another lazy day after opting out of going into your office today. Your mind is too much in a daze to deal with annoying coworkers who are a little too interested in your friendship with the famous hockey player. With your computer in your lap, you try and focus on an email from your boss that has gone unread for the last four days, and as soon as you start reading the first line, your phone starts to ring.

Quinns name flashes on the screen and you don't hesitate to toss your computer to the side and answer your FaceTime call. He flashes a smile as soon as the call connects. It's dim where he is, and you soon realize that he's on the bus. His under eyes are dark, and his beard is a little more scruffy than usual, but that doesn't stop you from thinking he's still the most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on .

"Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?" You ask Quinn, raising your eyebrow at him. It's a mom kind of question, one that you know Ellen would ask if she had seen him awake this late at night after he had played, and won a game.

"Couldn’t sleep," He tells you, and you know it's a lie. His poker face never worked on you. You roll your eyes at him letting him continue. "I actually wanted to ask you something."

Your heart does a backflip, which seems like the only thing it's been doing lately.

"Go for it." You tell him.

Before Quinn responds, you watch as he pulls his headphones off and look off in the distance. He's talking to someone on the other side of the phone, so you take another moment to admire him. The way he listens intently to whoever it is he's talking to you, how his eyes don't look away until he's finished talking.

He makes it easy for you to remember all the reasons you fell in love with him.

"What are you doing right now?" He asks once his attention is back on you. You let out a laugh, pulling your phone closer to your face. "I'm waiting for that question you wanted to ask me." You say in a 'duh' tone.

Quinn laughs, following your own actions and pulling his phone closer to his face. You can't help but stare at his lips, reminiscing how they felt against your own.

"Oh yeah, I'm flying you out to Jersey. To watch me and my brothers play. Well," He pauses, "Just Luke actually, Jack's out with an injury, but mom and Luke would love for you to be there."

"That wasn't a question, Quinn. And what about Jim?" You tease, and Quinn smiles again. "Jim is Jim. So, you'll be there?"

You shrug your shoulders, looking over at your computer that still has the email from your boss on the screen.

"I already bought the flight and the hotel, and it's" Another pause, "10:45 right now. Your flight is tomorrow at 9 in the morning, and you'll get to Jersey some time in the evening. I have a driver picking you up." A final pause, Quinn catches his breath. "It's all taken care of." He says softly.

It's times like this, where you remember Quinn has money. Where he's willing to spend a lot of money for you to be anywhere with him, but with the sweet gesture comes curiosity and you can't help but wonder if he's done things like this for her.

A part of you wants to tell him no. You have your own life in Vancouver. Your job, half-assed plans that you'd already made with your friends, you can't always drop everything for Quinn. But he knows you better than he knows hockey. He knows you'll be there.

"I guess I should start packing then, yeah?" His smile grows wider, "Will you text me when you're boarding?" He asks, and you nod your head 'yes'

The both of you stare at each other through your screens. Silently admiring each other. Secretly acknowledging how easy it is for you two to be together.

Once you hang up, you immediately run to your closet. Most of the items hanging up are Quinns. Hoodies, t-shirts, old jersey and even a couple of suits that he's left after late nights and early mornings. "What's mine is his" You think to yourself. You start throwing in a mix of yours and his clothes.

New Jersey is a cold state, something you'd learned the hard way after a failed trip a few years ago. You'd insisted that you didn't need to bring a winter coat on your trip because you already live in a cold climate, you were used to the cold. Quinn reminded you how you were always cold, and that you'd definitely needed to bring your coat, but like a stubborn child, you'd ignored him. "I'll be fine," You had told him, and instead of arguing, he let you figure it out on your own.

You stare at the winter coat hanging up. The winter coat Quinn had ended up buying you because he had gotten tired of you stealing his.

And it's almost like he's listening to your thoughts, sharing your memory even though he's thousands of miles away, because once your phone dings and you look down at your home screen, you see Quinn has reminded you to make sure to bring your winter coat.

#hockey boys #quinn hughes #hughes brothers #hockey blurb #nhl fic #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #luke hughes #jack hughes #nhl

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peaches-creek · 4 months

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Konig realized he loved you pretty early on in your relationship, you weren’t even dating yet, officially. It was clear to you, from the beginning, that Konig struggled mentally, you thought it was anxiety but he never had confirmed anything. It became even clearer to you when he had walked into the cafeteria, after a long training session, looking for you. He wanted to tell you how much fun he had the night before, he also wanted to tell you that your choice of movie was perfect. He had spotted you, but immediately stopped in his tracks. You were talking the Luke Ryan, sniper specialist. He had heard some of the other girls on base bash about him. Talking about his beautiful eyes, his amazing singing voice, but mostly his confidence. That’s what had Konig so stuck, will this Ryan guy use his confidence, eyes and singing abilities to steal you away. Jealousy was eating away at his gut.

For most guys, jealousy made them want to act, to show the other guy who’s boss. But for him, it made him want to crumble into a thousand pieces. A wave of incredible anxiety and sadness overtook him. You made eye contact with him and smiled, waving him over. He would’ve walked right to you, but it felt wrong, like he was interrupting, which made him even more upset. He turned on his heel, and walked right out of the cafeteria. He felt like an asshole, but this feeling in his stomach had his head spinning.

“Hey! Konig wait!” He hears you yell. He doesn’t stop completely but does you the favor of slowing down.

“Ko what’s wrong?” You could feel the waves of emotions coming off of him.

“Didn’t feel like interrupting.” He bluntly said. Very unlike him when it came to you.

“You weren’t, he was actually asking if we could bring him along on a double date with Roze.”

“Oh.” Not what he was expecting.

“Did you think-“

“Yea.” He cut you off, not rudely, he just felt ridiculous and wanted this conversation to be over.

“Well, Konig, you don’t have a thing to worry about. We are together for a reason.” That word sent a shockwave through him.

“We’re together?” He asks.

“Yea do you think I watch Les Miserables with just anyone? I really like you.” you relieve.

That was just the thing he needed to hear.

#konig x y/n #konig call of duty #konig x you #konig x reader #konig cod #konig headcanons #cod x reader #cod

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convolutings · 4 months

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Look don’t get me wrong I love the PJO TV show. The cast is perfect and some moments that were added I absolutely loved. But… there are some things I felt were so well done in the book there was no need to change it and I’m a little disappointed by the adaptation’s version.

Some of these takes I saw from other people and it put into words what I was feeling so I’m just expanding on what they said.

1. Gabe could’ve been worse. We are supposed to get mean Smelly Gabe vibes and Sally isn’t supposed to feel comfortable standing up to him. I understand “girl boss” and disneys restrictions but it still wasn’t great. I’m hoping they add something towards the end so his murder feels deserved.

Edit: upon a rewatch I take this back and believe Gabe was still abusive, if not physically as in the book, but as manipulative and demanding which is still abuse so I actually appreciate the changes they made now.

2. Sally felt off. Like they read her plot points but didn’t understand her character. She is wholesome and kind and devoted to Percy. The Sally we know never would’ve put that much pressure on Grover, plus him putting the pressure on himself is vital to his character. They also made her seemingly pine for Poseidon. They shouldn’t have changed the way she described her relationship with him and the choices she made to keep Percy safe. (I will say though that the Jesus joke was perfect and hilarious)

Edit: upon rewatch I still believe the wholesomeness was lost a little but I have come to like her character more and think these changes allow for greater depth into Sally’s story which I’m excited for.

3. We should’ve gotten Percy remembering the warm glow of Poseidon. I thought it was important that Poseidon broke the rules and came to see Percy when he was a baby and had that memory.

4. Percy thinking that Annabeth looked like a goddess when he first saw her was so cute and said a lot about how he viewed her. I think they should’ve kept it.

5. I think Luke being the one to guide Percy around the camp was a great choice, but Annabeth should’ve been part of welcoming scenes. And Grover should’ve been the one to tell the story of Thalia.

Edit: Episode 3’s reveal of Grover’s story was genius I take this back!

6. The claiming in the book was perfect! There was no reason to change the dialogue or have the trident not be the way it’s originally described. And seeing the campers reactions/having them bow down was important. I was underwhelmed tbh.

7. Percy is SMART! He was the one to put together that Sally was alive and agree to the quest in order to get her back. There was no reason for Grover to be the one to do it.

Otherwise it was wonderful. I still love it immensely and the care into the heart of the show I feel is still there. I can’t wait for next week!

And yes, I know Rick wrote the episodes and was a part of every single choice that was made so if he wants to leave something out obviously he knows his story the best this is just my opinion.

#pjo #pjo tv show #pjo tv series #pjo adaptation #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #Annabeth chase #Grover underwood #Sally Jackson #percy jackson and the olympians

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starry-hughes · 5 months

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wrapping presents (jack hughes)

day 12 of star’s ficmas

jack hughes x reader

Jack was pretty insistent on the fact that he didn’t need an assistant. But everyone else thought he did. He was immature, constantly forgetting about meetings, if someone else wasn’t grocery shopping for him, he would be eating leftover meals from the nutrition team every day. He didn’t know what temperature to preheat the oven to for chicken.

Luke didn’t mind your presence. He knew you helped Jack more than anything, plus you kept the pantry stocked with his favorite fruit snacks. Jack appreciated you more than anything. You picked up his drycleaning, made sure he was where he needed to be, and sometimes, you would wait up for him after hard games to help him put icy hot on his shoulder.

You were his life saver.

Jack had wanted to thank you for all your hardwork. You had been his assistant since his rookie year. You stuck by him through injuries and his small hissy fits he would throw when the team was in a bad area of the season. He had thanked you previously, big extravaganza gifts, bonuses for the holiday and offering to buy you plane tickets to go wherever you desired. At the beginning, he didn’t want to admit that he needed someone like you, but now he didn’t know what to do without you. This year, though, he couldn’t think of something to get you, until he saw the present in a bookstore. He wasn’t typically found in bookstores but the gift caught his eye in the window.

You entered his apartment with bags of Christmas gifts and wrapping paper. Jack was sitting on the couch with Luke. “Got all the gifts you needed,” you smiled at the man who was technically your boss. Jack sighed happily, “Oh what would I do without you.”

You grinned, carrying the gifts to his room to wrap. “You’d probably perish.”

Luke waited until the door of Jack’s bedroom closed, signaling that you were in his bedroom, wrapping gifts. You knew Jack’s bedroom well, hell you’d slept in his bed before. It wasn’t on purpose of course, but when the team had all gotten sick and you two were quarantined together, you had really gotten to know him by talking for hours in his bedroom, which resulted in you falling asleep on his bed. “Did you get (Y/N) a gift?”

“Yeah dude of course. I always get her one.”

Jack jumped up from the couch, carrying over a box. It wasn’t wrapped, just a plain white box he was planning to stick a bow on and call it a day. It was a custom, leather bound journal with flowers pressed on the cover. “It made me think of her.”

“So when are you going to tell her you’re in love with her?” Jack hit his brother, a signal for Luke to shut up.

You neatly wrapped all the gifts before packing them in a suitcase for Jack to take to Michigan for the holiday break. You loved your job and did it with a smile on your face. Sure, Jack sometimes drove you crazy but you really liked him. Maybe even loved. You chalked up your feelings to the fact that you spent a majority of your time with him. A proximity crush. You’d never fall for him if you didn’t spend so much time with him.

“Picking up dinner boys, be back soon,” you said as you got your coat on. “Oh actually, just dinner for you and Jacky, I’m going over to Dawson’s,” Luke said. Jack’s eyebrows furrowed together, “I didn’t think you were going there.” The brothers shared a look. Luke was telling him with his eyes that it was time to make a move. “Well I am, you and (Y/N) enjoy dinner together,” Luke gritted.

“Jack, I’ll be back with dinner I guess,” you said confused before leaving. “What the hell dude?” Jack whipped his head toward Luke. “Just tell her you love her! Tonight! Stop beating around the bush!”

You got home with food and Jack wasn’t in the living room. “Jack?” you called out. You heard a muttered “damn it” from his bedroom and you walked to his room. He had tape stuck to his fingers and horrible cut wrapping paper and a plain white box on the floor of his bedroom. “What are you doing? I thought I wrapped all the gifts?”

“This one is special,” Jack huffed out. He was raising the white flag, surrendering to the wrapping paper. You left the paper bag of food on his dresser and joined him on the floor of his bedroom. “You should measure the wrapping paper and make sure it covers the whole box, like this, before cutting,” you explained softly. He pulled himself closer to you, he could hear your heartbeat picking up.

“Then, you should tape one side down to the box, then the other side, and finally the edges you tuck in to make triangles and then fold,” you narrated as he handed you pieces of tape. “Must be a special present if you wanted to wrap it yourself,” you looked at him. His lips were inches away.

“Yeah, something like that,” he mumbled. You could have sworn he was moving in to kiss you before you snapped out of your trance. “Do you want to add a bow to the box?” you cleared your throat and looked back at the neatly wrapped present. “Oh,” Jack was snapped back to reality, “I guess?”

You added the bow before handing it to Jack. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

Jack’s eyes almost pop out of his head. “How do you know it’s for a girl?”

“Because Jack, I’ve only ever seen you put this much effort into presents or items if it’s for a girl you really like.”

Jack could have laughed, it was so ironic. You were right and you had no idea how right you were.

#jack hughes #jack hughes blurb #star’s ficmas #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes one shot #nj devils imagine

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wtfwriter · 2 months

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I Promise - Clarisse La Rue x F!Reader

Reader Age: 16-17

Reader Godly Parent: Poseidon

Synopsis: Reader has just returned from the Labyrinth onto a battlefield. In an adaptation of the Battle of the Labyrinth, the Reader is faced with their own internal battle and wonders if keeping their relationship with Clarisse a secret is truly worth it, as well as facing the realities of war and its implications for their little brother.

Word Count: 3197 (I had thoughts and suddenly there were words on a google document. I had nothing to do with this.)

Preface:

Some of the lines and dialogue are written directly or slightly changed lines from Rick Riordian’s novel “Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Battle of the Labyrinth.” Not all of this story is originally from me. Majority of these events happen in the order that they occur in the book with some minor tweaks

Also don’t ask me how the prophecy works here okay. I just think Percy deserves a big sister idk

I'm not 100% sure what age Clarisse is in this book, but google says she's about 16-17, so keep that in mind

================================================

Even if pegasi are like neutral territory between Zeus and Poseidon, I never would fully relax while flying on the back of one. I held on tightly to my pegasus the entire time, muttering apologies for my grip to her the whole time. It’s alright, boss, she told me. If you could just let up on my skin, that would be great.

Once we landed in Camp Half-Blood, I dismounted, petting my pegasus’ snout and apologizing again until she turned with the rest of her friends back towards the stables. Once I turned towards everyone else, Percy seemed to have already shared our story with Chiron and Silenus was arguing with Grover about Pan.

I didn’t pay much attention to this. Not because I didn’t care, but because the lines of half-bloods around Zeus’ fist caught my eye first. I watched as every single half-blood seemed to fall into place, with the Hephaestus cabin maintaining their traps, Apollo and Hermes’ cabins ready with bows in the trees, and Aphrodite kids running around combing people’s hair and straightening their armor.

What I was truly looking for, however, was the Ares cabin, which I found exactly where I knew they would be: the front lines. I surveyed for the girl I had been aching to see since I had left camp, a time that seemed much longer than it probably was. My eyes eventually found her, barking orders at her siblings.

I watched Clarisse move across the lines, prepared for battle and preparing those that stood with her. My eyes moved wherever she moved, never letting up, as if they were people who had finally gotten their first sip of water after years in a desert. I was so focused on her movements, I barely noticed when she finally looked at me.

I wondered if anyone else was following her line of sight, or mine. I wondered if we held the same expressions on our faces. I wondered if anyone could figure out what we were saying.

I love you. I’m sorry we can’t talk right now. Not with what’s happening. Not with this many people around. I will find you after all of this is over.

I promise.

We nodded at each other, faces determined, before we both turned back to our respective duties. I watched as each of my friends dispersed to do what they had to: Annabeth with her siblings, Tyson with the Hephaestus kids, and Grover went over to Juniper.

“Both of you, stay with me,” Chiron spoke. “I want you to wait so we know what we are dealing with. You must go where we need reinforcements.”

Percy and I nodded at him. “I saw Kronos,” Percy suddenly said. “It was Luke.. but he wasn’t…”

“He had golden eyes, yes? To merge with a mortal body would be… arduous. I’m not sure how he could have merged with Luke’s form without it burning into ash,” Chiron wondered aloud.

I chimed in, “Kronos said he had prepared the body.”

“I fear what that can mean. Perhaps it will limit his power, being in a mortal form.”

“Chiron,” Percy’s voice was laced with worry. “What if Kronos is leading this attack?”

“He is not,” Chiron replied, incredibly sure. “I would sense if he was drawing near. I believe you have… inconvenienced him when you two pulled his throne room on top of him.” He paused. “You two and your friend Nico, son of Hades.”

Percy looked down at the ground as I spoke. “We know we should’ve told you. It’s just—”

“I understand why you did not tell me. You felt responsible. You sought to protect him. However, if we are to survive this, we must be able to trust each other. We must —”

Chiron was cut off by the sudden wavering of the Earth. I heard Clarisse yell, “Lock shields!”

Then the Titan Army was upon us.

At first, all I saw was the Laistrygonians. Beckendorf yelled orders to fire the catapults, one of which fired a boulder that took one of them down. Arrows flew through the air. Campers gathered to bring down the remaining giants. I watched as Clarisse yelled even more orders.

Just when it seemed we were winning, another wave came out of the Labyrinth, this time of dracaenae. They were completely covered with battle armor, carrying nets and spears. I watched as some fell into traps while others were battling with campers. I looked for Clarisse again, finding her in a locked fight with one of the reptilian women.

I thought about how unfair this all was. How we were all just kids. How we were forced into this war. How all of this hate and pain was caused by hunger for power.

I thought about how badly I wanted to take Percy away from all of this. How every day I wanted to get him away from his prophecy. How I wanted more than anything for him to be a little kid again.

I thought about how much I wanted to do with Clarisse. How beautiful she was. How she never failed to be the person I could always return to. How she promised me the world and I promised her the universe and it was still less than the both of us deserved.

I thought about how different my life could be if we were brave enough to change it. Maybe being a half-blood wasn’t something we wanted or something we could change. But, we didn’t need to be hiding anymore. It all seemed so stupid now, in the face of life and death,

Suddenly, a hellhound burst out of the opening and Chiron was yelling. “GO!”

Percy and I ran towards the hellhound. All I could see was horrifically clear images in the midst of a blur. Past friends and siblings fighting on opposing sides. Monsters disintegrating whilst others yelled triumphantly. I watched as Nico summoned a dozen undead warriors in various army attire before crumbling to the floor.

“Nico!” I yelled.

“Go! I’ll get the hellhound. You make sure he’s okay!” Percy yelled, running off as I slowed down. I pivoted to Nico, getting on my knees beside him.

“You okay?” I yelled over the commotion of battle.

“Yeah…” he panted. “Go, there’s more of them. You need to help.”

I looked up and got my first full look at everything that was happening. At the gruesome sights of battle. I watched as campers defended their home, the one place they were meant to be safe. I nodded to Nico before getting up.

I almost started to run back where Percy had gone when I heard Grover. He and Juniper were desperately trying to stop a fire that was getting dangerously close to Juniper’s tree. I rushed over, seeing Percy do the same.

I wasn’t sure what to do and by the look on his face, Percy didn’t either. The closest water source was nearly half a mile away, and we didn’t have petrified seashells here. All we could do was concentrate, praying to Poseidon, until I felt a pull in my gut. Suddenly, a wall of water appeared through the trees, dousing the fire. I sighed in relief, glad at least one crisis was averted.

Suddenly, a screech filled the air, followed by the sound of loud flapping wings. Kampê shot into the sky from the labyrinth entrance. Her right hand carried Ariadne’s string until her belt of animal heads rotated to the lion. She stuck the string into the lion’s maw. Safe keeping, I suppose.

Kampê drew her twin swords, which seemed to be dripping with poison. Chiron sent an arrow through the sky towards her, which she sensed as she moved at the last moment. Campers started to run away in fear.

“No! Stay and fight!” Tyson yelled, before being promptly slammed to the ground by a hellhound. They went rolling away.

Kampê landed on the Athena tent and Percy and I ran after her. Annabeth appeared on Percy’s side.

“This might be it,” she said.

“Could be,” Percy replied.

“Okay… morbid,” I muttered under my breath, but neither of them seemed to hear me, or acted like they didn’t.

“Nice fighting with you, seaweed brain.”

“Ditto.”

We all rushed towards Kampê, who lashed at us with her swords. My eyes burned from the poison lacing the blades. My lungs couldn’t seem to fully fill with air.

“We need help!” I yelled.

But there was no one to help. Either each half-blood was locked in their own fight or was too afraid to move towards us.

“Now!” Annabeth yelled, and all three of us rushed in at different angles. But it wasn’t enough. Kampê’s belt of animals snapped at me and I went back trying to not get bitten.

Suddenly, I was on my back, ears ringing and head spinning. I couldn’t breathe due to a heavy weight. I opened my eyes to see Kampê’s leg on my chest, Percy pinned under the other, and Annabeth thrown off to the side, dazed and not getting up. Kampê raised her sword and I realized this was it. I prayed that Percy would get a fair judgement from the council in the Underworld, that they hadn’t all been bought out by Kronos.

Suddenly, a whirl of black pounced onto Kampê, throwing her off of us and I gasped for air.

“Good girl!” Daedalus called after her. I turned my head and watched as he slashed down monsters, followed closely behind by a friendly face… and many hands.

“Briares!” Tyson called excitedly.

“Hail, little brother!” Briares bellowed back. “Stand firm!”

Briares took up a boulder in nearly each hand, throwing them at Kampê, piling them around her. She was encased within her own makeshift monument taller than Zeus’ fist. By the time he was done, the only evidence that there was an ancient monster inside was from the twin swords still poking out between the stones.

The rocks shifted slightly, slotting into place.

Before I could celebrate that victory, I heard commotion over to the side. I turned just in time to watch Chiron get knocked down from his hind legs, laying on his side. I tried my best to get up, ignoring the ache in my chest from Kampê’s attack.

As suddenly as I had gotten up to start running towards Chiron, I was back on my knees, covering my ears. The shrill sound seemed to come out of nowhere until I looked over at Grover. His mouth open wide, he seemed to have infinite lung capacity as the sound continued.

The enemies seemed to think better than to stick around after that. I watched dracaenae put down their weapons and sprint towards the labyrinth entrance. I watch laestrygonians rush towards the entrance right after them. More and more of the armies retreated until eventually they all seemed to have gone back underground.

Once the screeching had stopped, the sudden stillness in the air was agonizing. All I could hear was my own breathing as I heaved, still trying to recover from the previous heaviness crushing my lungs. I eventually pushed myself up and grabbed one of Annabeth’s arms with Percy.

I ran with the other two over to Chiron and kneeled in front of him.

“Are you alright? What can I do?”

“Nothing. This is embarrassing,” Chiron chuckled. “Thankfully, we don’t shoot centaurs with broken legs. I’ll be alright eventually.”

“Let me get someone from the medic tent,” Annabeth rushed, already standing up before Chiron stopped her.

“No need, Annabeth. There are far more severe injuries.”

“Guys!” I whipped my head to look for the source of the voice. “Come quick! It’s Nico.”

I shot up, running over to the black heap on the floor. I’d forgotten about him after the intense battle. Dammit.

I got down next to him, looking at his sweaty face. I grabbed his ice cold hands for a pulse.

“He needs nectar! Quickly!” Percy yelled. One of the Ares campers quickly came over with the bottle as I propped Nico up as best as I could onto my knee. Percy dribbled some of the liquid into his mouth. I let out a sigh of relief as he stirred.

“Gods, Nico. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

The boy coughed slightly before nodding. “Never tried to summon so many at once before. I’ll be okay.” He turned his head to look beside me. “Daedalus.”

I looked over at the man as Mrs. O’Leary loomed behind him, licking his wounds that were leaking oil. Freaky.

Percy and Daedalus spoke as I tried to convince Nico to rest for a moment. Of course, he refused. I shook my head at him. “One day, you'll have to stop being so stubborn,” I told him.

He rolled his eyes, but smiled slightly. “Bianca would say the same thing. I’ll stop when it doesn’t work for me anymore.”

“But Daedalus,” Percy said. “Even without the string, Kronos’ army still has a way into camp.”

“You’re right,” Daedalus sighed. “As long as the Labyrinth is here, your enemies can use it. And so, the labyrinth can no longer continue.”

Annabeth stepped forward. “But, you said the Labyrinth was connected to you. If the labyrinth’s gone –”

“Yes, Annabeth. I too will be gone. And so, I have a present for you.”

Daedalus removed his satchel from his back and pulled out his laptop, engraved with a greek delta, and handed it to Annabeth. “That holds several designs of mine. Some unfinished, some I think you’ll find interesting, others I felt could never be in the mortal world. I'm positive you will find some things useful there.”

Annabeth was speechless. “This… This is priceless. And you’re just giving this to me?”

“It is less than you deserve. Less than I should do to atone for my mistakes.”

As Daedalus spoke of his time coming to an end and accepting whatever punishment he will be given from his judgment in the Underworld, I came to realize just how small we all are. Just how little we are meant to live. How many regrets we still have over such little time.

I looked around at all of the half-bloods scattered around. I saw some over at the medical tent, others scattered just hugging their friends and siblings, some sitting by the ones we lost who had been covered by thin fabrics.

I questioned my own mortality, and Percy’s. We weren’t meant to live forever. We were never going to. But with the little amount of time we both had, how many regrets would we hold with us?

I thought of Clarisse. I thought of how I hadn’t gone up to her before the battle. How I’d always regret that. I thought of how we both decided to keep our relationship a secret. How that was something I didn’t want to do anymore if it meant having to live with regrets. I thought about how I hadn’t seen her since I had joined the battle.

I looked back at the scene before me as Nico pulled out his sword and stepped before Daedalus. After being zoned out for a second, it freaked me out, until I realized Nico wasn’t raising it.

“Your time has long since come. Be released and rest.”

The relief in Daedalus’ eyes was freeing for us all. Knowing that he was truly ready brought us all some consolation. We watched as his body turned to dust.

I took Percy’s hand in mine and gave him a small smile. “I know there’s a lot to do, but there's something I have to do first.”

Percy nodded. “I know,” he said, and for some odd reason, I knew that he fully did, even though he didn’t say it. I looked down as he continued to speak. “You really didn’t have to hide it from me, you know? I was a bit upset about it at first but I think I was more… sad that you felt you couldn’t tell me.”

I looked back into his eyes and breathed out through my nose, smiling softly. “I just didn’t want you to hate me for this. More than just the ‘Clarisse’ part.”

“Oh, well, that part I might hold a bit of a grudge about,” he smiled at me in a way that told me he was joking. “But otherwise, all I care about is that you’re happy.”

We smiled at each other before Percy suddenly wrapped his arms around my waist. It felt like he was just a little kid again, like he was just my little brother, nothing more. It felt like we suddenly weren’t in the middle of a battlefield and there was an ancient monster buried in rubble just a few feet over. It felt like I was back home. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

“I will kill her if she makes you cry.”

We laughed harder than we should have.

He pulls away first, telling me to “get my girl.” I don’t even think twice before turning and starting to run through the battlefield.

I frantically looked around for Clarisse, hoping and praying to every single god that she was okay. I was so frantic that I nearly missed her over by the Ares station, seeming to be ignoring something her brother was saying in favor of looking out at all of the other half-bloods.

I didn’t even think before my feet were moving. Clarisse started to walk around, looking for something. It wasn’t until we made eye contact that I realized it was me she was looking for, when her eyes softened in the way they always seemed to whenever she looked at me, like she was letting go of the anger embedded within her skin and cooling off just a bit.

It didn’t matter to me that we were surrounded by people, and Clarisse made no complaints when my left hand cupped her cheek and my lips met hers. Her arms held my waist as my right arm circled around to hold the back of her neck. I could feel the sweat that was dripping down from the battle and the adrenaline that was just beginning to crash.

I didn’t realize she was crying until I tasted the saltiness. I withdrew slightly before pecking her lips once more. The thumb of my left hand moved to her cheek and under her eye to wipe the tears.

I didn’t realize I was crying until Clarisse’s left hand left my waist to wipe the tears on the right side of my face. We both laughed slightly, bringing our foreheads together and closing our eyes. I angled my head to kiss her one more time before hugging her properly. She buried her face into my neck and I laughed at how it tickled.

“Gods, we both smell horrible.”

“I know.”

We didn’t speak for a while, soaking up each other, but it still didn't feel like enough.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered.

“I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

It didn’t matter that everyone at camp could see us and Clarisse didn’t seem to mind it either. There were more important things than reputation right now.

#clarisse la rue x reader #percy jackson x reader #clarisse x reader #dior goodjohn x reader #clarisse la rue

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digitaldiarystuff · 4 months

Text

I Hate You

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summary: you and Ruben are haters with benefits when suddenly, you start craving for more

pairing: Ruben Dias x Y/N

genre: angst, fluff, maybe a little suggestive it’s a mix of everything really

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You were about to fall asleep when you heard the door slam meaning Ruben was gone. Today was a stressful day at work and all you wanted to do was to forget, which is why you called him drunk. Your arrangement with him was simple, you hated each other any time other than when you were fucking. It started when you shouted at each other at a house party and ended in you getting screwed against the door of a bathroom mumbling ‘I hate you’s and ‘I know’s.

That’s when you made a deal, this was the only way you could blow off some steam and be in each other’s presence. You of course kept this a secret from everyone, they would never approve of you being haters with benefits with Ruben but you weren’t complaining. It wasn’t emotional, just physical but tonight after having a terrible day with your boss screaming at you nonstop, you wished you could ask him to stay. However, you bit your tongue and let him go, just like every other time.

Your cravings for affection didn’t stop there, you were constantly feeling lonely and this caused in an increase in your calls for Ruben. Before this you called each other maybe once a week but now your hand was reaching to your phone every other day. You could feel his gaze on you wondering what’s going on but he knew you weren’t that close so he never asked. You, once again called him at 1 and he answered groggily.

“Hey”

“Hey, I’m sorry were you sleeping?” you asked already regretting it.

“Yeah, what’s up?” he sounded so tired and you couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to come to you.

“I was just calling to see if I can come over?” This was the first time you were offering to drive to his, any other time you’d meet at your place because it was way more convenient for you.

“I actually have an early training tomorrow and as much as I’d like to shut your fierce mouth, I’m gonna have to pass.” he said and you could hear the smirk on his lips.

“I hate you.” you said

“I know baby.” he replied knowing how much you hated pet names, but this one only made you sad. You hung up with an empty feeling, was this sudden neediness caused by him or by you going through tough times, you wondered. It didn’t matter since either way, Ruben wasn’t the answer for your problems. You hated him and he hated you and you were just fuck buddies.

You tried sleeping but couldn’t so that’s when you decided to open your dating app, you used it every once in a while but stopped after your first time with Ruben. You never had a rule about being exclusive but he fulfilled your every need so you didn’t have the need to look for someone else but tonight, you were lonely and in need of company and you also needed to get Ruben out of your mind at least for a while.

That’s how you met Luke, he matched with you almost immediately and was happy to meet you at this hour. After some inspection you figured it wouldn’t hurt to have him come over and he obliged. He was a very handsome and tall guy with mid length light brown hair and green eyes.

“Hey” you opened the door and he was standing there with a small bouquet of flowers.

“Hi, how did you find an open flower shop?”

“Oh I was just keeping these in the freezer in case a pretty girl like you asked me to come over.” he sassily said.

You spent some time getting to know each other over glasses of wine since you just met and one thing led to another and you found yourself on his lap while he was kissing along your neck and exposed breasts. You were so lost in the moment you didn’t even see the text Ruben sent you.

“Are you still awake?”

You and Luke finished shortly after, which wasn’t anything compared to what you had with Ruben. It was good and you had an orgasm but it lacked the passion you and Ruben shared. When you had sex, it was hot and full of emotion even if they were hatred but you and Luke just satisfied each other. You asked him to stay the night and he could leave in the morning since it was late and he agreed. You were in mood for some cuddles and he gave them to you.

In the morning when you woke up he was already gone and you felt relief. You weren’t in the mood for an awkward conversation where he thinks you’re in love with him but you also couldn’t deny feeling a presence in the bed while sleeping made you feel better and you wished it was Ruben holding you.

It was now 4 p.m. and you were pretty much done for the day, sitting in your office when the door knocked. You went to get it and were surprised to see Ruben standing there.

“What are you doing here?” you asked still mad about last night.

“Hello to you too Y/N, I’m good by the way.” he smiled annoyingly and pushed the door open inviting himself in.

“Ruben I’m serious, why are you here?” you asked as he walked in the kitchen to get something to drink but his steps came to a halt suddenly and you were confused. You followed his gaze and found why he’s being weird. His eyes were set on the flowers Luke brought.

“Who are these from?” he asked after a moment nonchalantly but he slowly walked over to them to find a card inside.

“Just a friend.” you replied not knowing how to put it.

“Do I know the said friend?” he was trying so hard to not be obvious but it was clear he was interested. That’s when you decided to tease him.

“No, you don’t.”

“And he sent you flowers because…” he trailed off hoping you’d finish his sentence.

“He didn’t send me flowers Ruben, look why are we talking about this, why are you here?”

“You didn’t answer my text and I was worried you did something to yourself because you couldn’t have me.” he pouted and you remembered why you hate him, so full of himself.

“I saw your text today but I was busy.”

You walked over to the living space and he followed you.

“Hey, what did you mean when you said he didn’t send me flowers?” he inquired.

“Ruben what’s this interrogation about some flowers?” you asked annoyed.

“Just tell me” he pleaded.

“He didn’t send them, he brought them.”

“When?” his head snapped back.

“Last night.” you answered truthfully

His eyes immediately turned darker and his jaw clenched. You averted your gaze feeling weird about the whole situation. You didn’t think he would be bothered by this.

“I didn’t realize you were seeing other people.” he mumbled under his breath but still kept his cool.

“I mean we’re allowed to, aren’t we? I was feeling lonely and he agreed to keep me company.” you jabbed making him realize this was after Ruben turned you down.

“I didn’t know…” The room fell silent neither of you dared to speak. You took a deep breath.

“Ruben this whole deal isn’t working out for me, I don’t want someone to leave the second they come, I don’t need any titles or a ring but I need more than just hate sex.” you finally confessed.

“I- uhm” he couldn’t even form a sentence but this was enough for you.

“Look I’m not pressuring you into anything Ruben, it’s just, I don’t think this is going to work out.” you breathed and he had a sad face throughout your conversation.

The talk ended minutes ago but Ruben didn’t move a muscle to get out, nor did he speak.

“Are you okay?” you finally asked concerned about his demeanor.

“Yeah, I just think you’d never feel like…” he trailed off again.

“Like what?”

“Like I do.” he said as your eyes met, you couldn’t even tell if he was being serious.

“Ruben look if this is a sick joke, I swear…”

“No Y/N this isn’t a joke. Believe me, it’s been torture pretending like I still hated you because you were definitely doing so and I thought I was going crazy.” he rambled on as you grabbed his collar and crashed your lips into his.

He quickly reciprocated and deepened the kiss while lifting you up just for you to sit on top of him. You hungrily attacked his neck and a loud moan escaped his lips at the contact. You used this opportunity to remove his shirt and kept exploring his body while his hands were on your hips slowly helping you roll back and forth and this time, it was his lips on your neck and behind your ear.

“Ruben” you mewled “Take me to the bedroom”

He happily obliged carefully sitting up and carrying you with your legs wrapped around his waist. He was holding you like you weighted nothing. As he was passing by your kitchen he made a stop, slowly going in. You were utterly confused but let him do so, he held one hand under your hips while picking the flowers from the vase and throwing them in the bin. He definitely was a petty man, your petty man.

“I hate you.” you laughed but didn’t even care about the flowers.

“I know” he smiled back continuing kissing you.

#football #football imagine #football x reader #football x y/n #football oneshot #football x you #football blurb #football one shot #ruben dias x you #ruben dias angst #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias oneshot #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias #manchester city

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