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purinfelix · 3 months ago

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you're no good for me, but baby i want you - n. riki ✶⋆.˚

summary: after growing tired of his constant teasing you made up your mind not to give Niki anymore of your attention, but you should've known that he wouldn't let you go that easily - and is willing to go to desperate measures to get you just to look at him ──── delinquent Niki x class president reader || sfw but a little suggestive, kissing/making out, so much tension like so much, enemies to lovers sorta? || w/c: 2.7k

a/n: okay i'm trying to get better at writing longer fics/ones that actually have closure bc looking back i realise i kinda always leave u guys on cliffhangers LOLL - also i rlly tried to avoid making this too cliche given the trope i hope it worked !!! actually really like this one so i hope it doesn't flop rip

‘Bad boy’ felt too cliche - at least for your liking. You preferred to refer to Niki as what he was, a delinquent, a troublemaker, someone who skipped most of his classes and spent the rest dosing off or arguing with the teacher. But no matter what you called him you were sure of one thing, he pissed you off.

To be honest, you had absolutely no interest in the sorts of things a student like him got up to in his own time, but it was the fact that he insisted on dragging you into his business that irritated you the most. You weren’t sure why exactly he kept targeting you, maybe it was because he just wanted to mess with the class president or because you seemed like an easy target to him - whatever reason he had didn’t make it any less tiring though.

Skipping classes was one thing, but his constant breaches of uniform code meant that you were running out of warning slips - and patience. It didn’t help that whenever you did, he would only look you up and down with an amused smirk, brows raised as if daring you to continue telling him off - which only worked to make you stumble over your words.

That’s why you had made the decision to stop giving him anymore of your attention, and the most recent time you had seen him sporting his signature look - no blazer, dress shirt half unbuttoned and several silver earrings, you chose to ignore him. You simply walked past him in the hallway without so much as a passing glance, hoping it would tell him to stop wasting your time and causing trouble.

Little did you know, he would misinterpret your signs to mean the exact opposite.

The next morning when you were waiting at your desk you heard a wave of hushed murmurs coming from down the hall, and couldn’t help but feel partly responsible. A loud thud sent the classroom door flying open and a couple of his friends filed in with amused grins - and it was only when Niki followed them in did you see why. Not only had he gone and messily bleached parts of his jet black hair, but he now donned a piercing straight through his right eyebrow which, judging from the pink tinge surrounding it, was both brand new and self-made.

You were unable to stop your neck from craning as your eyes followed his figure, watching as he sauntered over to his desk in the back corner of the classroom, threw his books onto it and sat down. The expression on his face showed that he couldn’t care less about being there, but his eyes trained on you as if waiting for you to make a move.

You hated that he knew you so well, because before you knew it you were out of your seat and at the head of his desk, arms folded with a stern expression on your face. You can’t remember exactly what you said but it must’ve been harsh, and loud enough to summon the attention of almost the entire class, and your teacher who stormed into the classroom shortly after to tell the two of you off. It must’ve also been harsh enough to earn the two of you an after-school detention, which was your very first - though it clearly wasn’t Niki’s.

So that’s how the two of you had ended up alone, in an empty, hot classroom - waiting as the minutes of your detention ticked by agonisingly slowly. Irritated was an understatement. It was taking every ounce of self-control you had not to turn around and punch Niki right there and then. You kept your fuming to yourself, at least for now though, while you worked silently on an assignment, determined to at least make good use of being stuck here for the next hour or so - even if it meant spending it in a tense silence.

Niki didn’t seem to share the same sentiment, having sat himself in the chair right beside yours and kicked his feet up on the desk, twirling a pen in one hand as he hummed softly to himself. You were trying your best to ignore him, and he was trying his best to make that very difficult.

“What are you working on?” he asked curiously as he leaned in over your shoulder.

“Just an assignment,” you shot back curtly.

“Ah of course, what a goody-two shoes,” he scoffed as he sat back.

“Rather a goody-two shoes than a good-for-nothing delinquent,” you mumbled under your breath, though not quiet enough to escape his ears.

“A delinquent? Is that really what you think of me?” he asked in faux-offence, “I’m hurt.” You turned slightly, just enough to see the dramatic pout he had formed across his lips, his brows curving upwards and his piercing going with it.

“Whatever,” you huff, feeling both irritation and exhaustion rise in you, “it’s your fault we’re here in the first place anyways.”

“Oh yeah, my fault that you started a petty argument.”

“Your fault for dyeing your hair that stupid colour and getting that piece of metal jammed in your face!” You cry out, fully facing him now as you felt your face burning hot, “I mean seriously, all I did was ignore you once, and you go ahead and did something ridiculous like that?” Gesturing to his piercing and new hair, you can’t help but feel even more infuriated at the sight of his smirk which only grew as he watched you from half-lidded eyes.

“What makes you think I did it for you?” He asks teasingly, and you suddenly feel your bravado begin to crumble - he’s right, who are you to assume that?

“Well, I-” you stutter, but he interrupts you.

“Well maybe I did,” he laughs softly, “that depends on whether you like it or not.”

“That is so besides the point, Niki,” you whine, “it’s against uniform policy.”

“Oh c’mon, you think it’s a little cool,” he taunts, and you turn back around in your seat, chewing your bottom lip as you’re determined not to give him a response which you’re sure will only fuel his ego.

You sit in silence for a bit, and you can tell he’s watching you carefully in the way he leans in, keen eyes trained on your expression - almost as if he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking. But that’s a challenge even you’re struggling with right now.

He’s the one to break the silence again. “I am sorry about getting you a detention though, that wasn’t what I meant to do.” You blink in disbelief because for the very first time, he sounds almost as if he really means what he’s saying.

“Is that an apology?” you say, gasping to show your surprise, though this quickly dissolved into a soft laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it get to your head,” he sighs, “I just couldn’t sit here and watch you sulk for the next hour.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself, feeling the tension between the two of you melt away at his apology, just enough for you to want to keep talking to him - even if it means neglecting your homework, for now. Your eyes move over his face, his sharp jaw, his eyebrow piercing glinting under the warm classroom light.

“Did it hurt?”

It’s a stupid question, you know, but it’s the only thing you can think to ask as you fiddle nervously in your seat. If you’re being completely honest, you do think it’s cool, you’ve always thought his piercing were cool - and right now you want nothing more than to reach out and feel them for yourself. But your common sense stops you.

“Well, duh,” he scoffs, sitting back in his seat as his eyes fix on yours, “figured a smart-ass like you would’ve been able to guess that.”

“Just asking,” you grumble defensively, though your curiosity urges you to keep talking. “If it hurt, why’d you do it?”

“Well, you like it, don’t you?” He asks, “that’s all the reason I need.”

You’re tempted to tell him off again, but something about his tone catches you off guard - it’s oddly earnest, and he says it with such a simplicity that makes you really believe that maybe he’s telling the truth and you’re unable to find the resolve to spoil this moment

“Can I feel it?”

He’s almost as shocked by your request as you are, and even as it leaves your mouth you’re unsure entirely why you’re asking it. His eyes widen in a way that you can’t help but find a little cute, even as you’re struggling to process your own thoughts.

“Sure,” he replies, a little too quickly, almost as if he had been waiting for you to ask him that, but can’t believe you actually did. You turn in your chair to face him, your arms coming up awkwardly to bridge the distance between you both but it’s clear you’re still too far.

You’re about to lean forward more in your seat to reach him, until you notice his hand coming down to grip the leg of your chair and it isn’t until you feel yourself moving and hear the faint screech of the legs against the floor that you realise that he’s pulling it - pulling you closer to him.

Once you’re close enough he stops, though his hand doesn’t leave the back of your chair, instead resting there as if trapping you in with him as he leans down as that his face is level with yours. You try not to overthink the way your knees are touching, or how this is your first time seeing him this close and how he’s even better looking up close. Carefully, you bring your hand and pray that he doesn’t notice the way it trembles, as your thumb grazes his thick brow gently. Even though you wish he didn’t, he keeps his eyes open and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you as your fingers close around the small metal ball.

“It’s cold,” you mumble, not sure what else to say to fill the air between you two.

“It’s metal,” he says matter-of-factly, letting out a small laugh at your fascination with it.

“You didn’t need to to do this just to get my attention, you know,” your eyes focus on the piercing as you speak, unable to look him in the eyes when admitting something that feels like a confession.

“I had to get you to look at me somehow.” You’re again amazed at how he can say such earnest things with such a serious face, and even as you look away you know his eyes are on you.

“Most people would’ve just said hi or something, not put a brand new hole in their face,” you sigh, fingers moving to tuck a stray strand of bleached hair behind his ear.

“Well most people wouldn’t be here now with you touching their face, so by my standards my plan worked better.”

“Did that plan have to include getting me my first-ever detention?” You ask in annoyance, though you can’t help but laugh softly at his simplicity.

“Well, not at first,” he admits, “but at least we’re alone, hm?”

“Because you need me alone to talk to me?”

“No, because I need you alone to do this.”

You’re pretty sure if you weren’t already leaning towards him you would’ve fallen backwards from the forceful way his lips crash into yours - and if not from that then the sheer shock of just that. Luckily for you though, he already has an arm snaked around your waist, keeping a hold of you and pulling you closer.

It shocks you though that, despite the initial force, Niki’s kiss is gentle, almost as if he’s easing you into something he knows you’re struggling to accept. He’s experienced, that’s for sure, but you can tell in his movements that he’s holding back from pushing you any further.

You don’t even realise it but your hands are cupping his face, caressing his strong jawline and pulling him closer to you. You open your mouth to talk but the only noise that comes out is a breathy gasp and if you weren’t so caught up in the feeling of his hands in your hair you might’ve stopped to feel embarrassed about how desperate you sound for him right now.

“Niki,” you mumble against his lips, unsure of what to do as you feel your mind struggle to comprehend what’s happening.

“Want me to stop?” he says in between heavy breaths, and even though it sounds like a taunt you know him well enough to know he’s being serious.

You shake your head in response, but decide to have a little fun of your own while you can. “When have you ever cared what I want?”

“Oh, you have no clue,” he hums in a low whisper as he leans back in.

“And when have you ever listened to what I’ve told you to do?”

“You’re right about that,” he smirks, pressing his lips to yours again, this time with the reckless abandon you’ve come to expect from him - almost as if he was waiting for your permission to let go. You thought you would’ve felt a little predictable, pathetic even, for having fallen so easily into his trap and giving him much more than just your attention at this point. But from the way his hands roam your body, grasping for more of you as he whines against your lips you smile to yourself at the realisation that really, he’s the one who’s fallen into your trap.

This sense of control is what finally calms your mind, even if it still struggles with just how ‘wrong’ all of this sounds against how right his lips on yours feel. The sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway however forces you to tear yourself away from him, though his hands don’t leave your body as you strain to figure out who it might be.

“Shit, it’s the teacher,” you say under your breath, pulling away from him to smooth down your skirt. Niki clearly doesn’t care, but still lets out a soft sigh as he hangs his head, leaning back in his chair.

“Tomorrow,” you continue suddenly, “I want the eyebrow piercing and the bleached hair gone.” You know you’re being harsh, but you also know that, given what just happened, you can’t afford to be nice.

“Wh-” he says suddenly, looking at you in disbelief, “I thought you liked them though.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say firmly, “they’re still breaking like ten different uniform rules.”

“Just when I thought I’d finally broken your guard down,” he groans.

“Well, they’ve served their purpose already, haven’t they?” you taunt lightly, bringing a hand up to swipe at your bottom lip which you can feel is a little plump from him biting it. His eyes watch attentively as you do, and he lets out a soft laugh followed by a nod in agreement.

“You’re right,” he exhales, “but now I’m thinking if I keep them in I might keep getting lucky.”

“Niki,” you sigh.

“I mean, maybe if I had a reward for following rules I might feel more motivated,” he hums, looking away as he feigns innocence.

You pause, thinking to yourself for just long enough. “I’ll be studying in the library after school, maybe if you do as I say I’ll let you join me.”

“Studying? That’s what we’re calling it now?”

“Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll be there,” he laughs, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile - one that you can’t help but share even as the same teacher who gave you both this detention comes in to tell you you’re free to go.

You watch as he swings his bag over one shoulder coolly, tossing you his signature smirk - only this time, it doesn’t just annoy you, it lingers, sticking to your thoughts in a way you don’t want to admit. Because you know you should be mad, you should roll your eyes and remind yourself that he’s still the same infuriating troublemaker. But as he walks away the only thing you find yourself wondering is if he’ll actually show up tomorrow, and worse, if a part of you wants him to.

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painted-flag · 4 months ago

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A VICTOR, part three (final) - Commodus

𓃮 emperor commodus x fem!reader 𓃭 masterlist. part one | part two | part three (final) 𓃮 warnings: 18+ descriptions of violence and smut (fingering, pinv, slight biting kink and nipple play, possessive behaviour) 𓃭 As a longtime and loyal servant working in the underbelly of the palace, your emergence into the light catches the attention of the emperor.

It had been a long, excruciating week. You had managed to avoid Commodus in that time. Attius was still insistent that you complete your duties despite the injuries, but you had managed to do them all in the lower levels of the palace. In the few instances where you needed to get work done in areas Commodus could be, you chose to do them very late into the night.

There was not a word you could use to express the heartache you had felt at that time. It is funny that a person could be stamped so permanently onto your ribcage in such a short time of knowing them, but the emperor was a man you would never forget.

In your dreams, you could still feel the touch of his calloused hands and the warmth that only he could provide – no other form of warmth like fire or the sun could compare or compete.

The swelling in your face was gone, but you still sported a cut lip and the bruises were still prominent. Each night, you would go to Cassius to get a poultice to put on your wounds, which soothed the skin and removed some of the aching pain.

While you had been smart in dodging Commodus and staying on the lower levels of the castle, you had to fetch rosemary from the gardens and it could not wait until night. So you found yourself, in the heat of midday, picking some rosemary in a secluded area of the palace gardens.

It was calm, with a gentle breeze that kissed your skin. You held a woven basket with the handle tucked into your bent arm. With a small knife, you would cut off bundles of rosemary that looked ready to harvest and placed them in the basket. The motions were soft and serene and you found some peace with it.

Footsteps alerted you to a presence behind you. You wanted to turn, but at the sound of their voice, you knew who it was and could not afford to face them.

“You are not sick,” Commodus spoke from behind you, his tone full of contempt.

You stopped your current task but still refused to turn around. Keeping your back to him was incredibly disrespectful, but you feared what he would do if he saw the markings on your face. How quickly would he cast you aside?

“I have… recovered quickly.” You excused. Commodus scoffed from behind you and stepped closer. He was only a pace or two away from you and his close proximity had your knees weak and resolve crumbling.

“You were never sick. I am not stupid…” His tone then switched to something that sounded almost insecure, “Have I done something to incur your indifference? Why do you avoid me? Whatever it was, name it and I shall work towards absolution. Shout it at me, insult me even, I give you permission for that. So long as you speak, so long as I can hear you talk because I have learnt that nothing… nothing hurts more than the absence of you.”

His small speech could have knocked you off your feet. It sent your mind reeling. A strong urge to drop your basket and fling yourself into his arms washed over your body. How much you dearly missed the comfort of his embrace. He sounded vulnerable, not something you ever thought would come out of his mouth.

“It is not you, Caesar.” You hoped the honorific title would make him display more mercy toward you, but you failed to notice the depths of his devotion that had built up long before he invited you to his chamber so many nights ago.

“Commodus.” He corrected what you addressed him as, “You of all people do not need to call me that. What is it that burdens you so?” He questioned.

You knew there was no point in trying to keep it hidden. Your clothing thankfully covered most of the bruises, except for the one on your face. Slowly, while looking at the stone ground, you turned to face him. Your face raised and made eye contact with him, finding some solace in the green of his eyes. His look of desperation for your attention quickly morphed into simmering rage. You could see the bump in his throat move as he swallowed and his jaw set.

He took the final step to get closer to you. Commodus raised his hand and hovered it right over your bruise, eyes scanning it over and over as if it was not real.

“Who?” His voice was oddly calm. It was as if his mind had shut down, unable to fully process what he was seeing.

“I am fine and–”

“Who did this?” Commodus interrupted. He gently traced over the bruise with the tip of his fingers, mapping the way it marred your face.

“I have neglected my duties as of late. Master Attius did only what was necessary.” You tried to reason. His nostrils flared at your words.

“It was him that did this to you?” You wanted to answer, but there was a sob that threatened to claw its way through your throat. You did not wish to cry in front of him, but the stress of everything had hit you. He saw the tears that welled in your eyes and pulled you in for a hug. However, his sudden touch on your arms caused you to flinch.

Commodus looked down immediately, grabbed your wrist, and pulled up the sleeve of your dress to see the bruises that littered your forearm and disappeared under the top of the fabric. His breath became laboured.

“Nothing must go unpunished, he told me.” You bit your lip to hold the sobs back. Commodus let out a long sigh and rested his forehead against yours. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, letting the warm breeze hit your bodies.

He eventually moved, lifting his head and planting a kiss on your hairline. His hands reached up and rubbed your shoulders gently, trying to provide comfort while also not wanting to make your pain worse.

“You are not to do any more work today. Go to my room and wait there.” He instructed you.

“Wait for what?” You asked. He did not answer you, only giving your temple one last chaste kiss before he turned around and left the garden. You could hear his harsh footfalls as he got further away and you were scared at what he was capable of.

Commodus was angry and that was dangerous. You worried about what his wrath meant for anyone in the palace. Yet, you could do nothing but stand there as he left, bracing for the coming aftermath of whatever he had planned.

You swore that you would wear down the marble flooring in Commodus’ room. For the last few hours, you had paced back and forth. Sometimes you would sit in a chair for a few moments before becoming restless again and resuming your short march. There had been no word from Commodus or anyone as to what was going on.

You surmised that was the best outcome. He had not gone on a rampage and caused chaos, which was good. It had only struck you recently that perhaps you had been terribly stupid this whole time. The way he looked at you in the gardens and his vulnerability at thinking he had done something wrong to you. There you came to understand the depths of the situation and that the feelings you held are in some capacity reciprocated.

That was why you paced so relentlessly. He harboured feelings for you, which in itself felt surreal. You were nothing and would remain nothing, but somehow that was enough to catch his attention. Had it been that festival you sang at so many years ago? Was it that moment when the fates decide to entwin both of your paths?

The door on the other side of the room opened and you stopped pacing. You stood still, hoping to see Commodus. It was hard to conceal your disappointment when another man walked through the doors. He was old and hunched over slightly, but his face appeared kind. He carried a bag with him and set it down on one of the tables.

“Excuse my brash words, but where is the emperor?” You questioned.

The old man smiled and began to take items out of his bag; vials and bandages, “The emperor has not been in the palace for hours, my lady.”

“I am not a lady,” You spoke.

“I have been instructed by the Caesar to look over his lady that awaits in this room. I am correct in assuming that is you?” He teased you slightly and you felt a little more relaxed around him. You approached the table and looked down at the healing supplies he had laid out.

“Yes, uh, that would be me.” You shrugged. You did not want to question why Commodus had referred to you as his lady but knew it was not something to take lightly. Whatever he said goes and there was no reversing those words. The more you thought of it, the more it warmed your heart.

“Well, I am Cosmo, fair lady. Might I check over your injuries?” He questioned.

You nodded with permission and he moved towards you. While he tended to your wounds, all you could think about was Commodus; where he was and what he was doing. He was not in the palace and Rome was a large city. A sinking feeling of worry and dread washed over you.

After you had been tended to, more servants came in to bring you new attire. The dress you wore was nothing you had ever come close to having. The tunica, stolla, and palla all matched with the vibrancy of orange and black. Commodus had picked it out for you and you could not help but wonder if he chose it because it was similar in colour to your favourite animal, the tiger.

When you had gotten ready, guards escorted you to a waiting carriage. Each time you tried to ask what was happening, you only got the same short response; Caesar awaits you. By now, slight fear had entered your heart. He had been gone that whole day and the last you saw of him was when he became consumed by rage. Had he hurt others? Had he hurt himself?

The large imposing figure of the Colosseum entered your vision as the carriage approached. There were not many times in your life when you had time to visit, but each memory had been ingrained in your mind. The sun was setting and cast the stone in a delicate golden light. The heat of the day waned and you became grateful for the clothing wrapped around you to shield you from the occasional cool breeze.

You do not remember there being a gladiatorial game scheduled for that day and your suspicions got worse as you were led out of the carriage and into the Colosseum. There was no shouting, no screaming, or bounds of cheer. Nothing but silence greeted you as you walked up some stairs and found yourself at the cloth-covered entrance to the emperor's viewing box.

The guards escorting you grabbed the silk curtains and pulled them away, allowing you to enter alone. The viewing box was grand, filled with seats for the senators. A large stone chair, like a throne, was placed up front in the centre. There, leaning against the stone railing, was Commodus. He had his back to you, but you could see he wore a regal outfit of black armour with silver and gold accents. A gold laurel crown rested over his touseled dark locks.

Your heartbeat picked up at the sight.

“Commodus?” You questioned. At the sound of your voice, he turned around and smiled. He raised both of his arms like one would do to welcome someone with a hug.

“Ah, you’re finally here,” He approached you and placed one hand gently over the healing bruise on your face, “How are you?” His other hand rested on your waist to pull you closer. A flush fell over your body.

“The healer says I am doing well. There are no complications.” You answered. You had no idea what to do with your arms, so you pressed the palms of your hands against the chestpiece he wore, feeling the bends and grooves of the detailed pattern and the coolness of the metal.

“And how is your mind?” His thumb swiped back and forth across your cheek.

“I am alright. It hurt for a while… everything is fine now.” You reassured him. During your week of avoiding him, you had missed his comfort dearly. While he had originally gone to you for solace, you became attached to him and learned that you wished to lean on him as well.

“Not quite, darling.” Commodus took your arm and guided you to the big throne. He sat down comfortably. While you looked around for a chair next to him, he pulled you down so you sat on his lap. The movement was abrupt but sent heat through your body.

“Nothing can go back to normal until you see justice for the crimes you have suffered,” Commodus wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you securely in his lap. The armour he wore was almost cold, but his presence provided a warmth that erased that feeling.

“Attius was well within his rights to punish me and–”

Commodus grabbed your chin and turned your head to look at him. There was a quiet rage within his eyes, though not directed at you.

“I’ll not have you speak like that, do you hear me?” He told you. You nodded which made him smile and leave a chaste kiss on your cheek, “Good. Now, I have prepared a show for you.”

“A show?” You questioned.

“More like a trial,” He motioned with his hands to a set of guards standing within the arena. They began to march towards one of the entrances and he continued to speak, “I will not have my lady wronged. Nothing must go unpunished.” That phrase clicked in your head, the one that Attius had used against you. At that moment, you understood what was happening.

The doors to one of the entrances opened and out came the person you were expecting. Your master, Attius, had his hands bound by shackles in front of him. He was led in by multiple guards, crossing the sandy terrain. You sucked in a breath when they got closer and you could get a better look at him. He was dressed in rags, but his arms and the lower half of his legs were exposed, showing the gnarly bruises that littered his skin. Splotches of blood, some aged more than others, consumed the brown cotton he wore.

What shocked you the most was the bruise on his face that was almost an exact copy of the one he gave you.

Commodus chuckled lightly to himself when Attius almost stumbled over. You now understood where he was for those hours of not being at the palace. While undeniably barbaric, something about his protective nature and thirst for vengeance on your part was, in a twisted way, attractive. When Attius got within speaking distance, Commodus tightened his hold on you as if to assure himself you would no longer get hurt.

“You have committed an egregious crime,” Commodus spoke. Your hands placed over his that rested on your stomach and began to carefully thread your fingers through his. He had gotten tense and you were doing what you could to calm him down, if only slightly.

“Caesar, please! Mercy! Show me mercy!” Attius was shoved down to his knees by the guards, kicking up some of the sand.

“Mercy from me? No, it is not me that you wronged,” Commodus turned to you, his face of indifference and hate towards Attius morphing into adoration for you, “My lady, do you grant him mercy?”

For a moment, you wanted to. You may have many weeks ago, but lately, you had come to understand that violence was often necessary; all thanks to Commodus’ guidance. You thought of everything Attius did towards your fellow servants over the years. Each indignity, each strike, each time he would show no clemency.

You wanted him to feel that fear.

“No mercy,” You answered. Commodus smiled at you and his eyes twinkled with something akin to excitement. He surged forward to capture you in a heated kiss. You matched the fervour, pushing back and feeling the softness of his lips against yours. He hummed with satisfaction, tasting the fruit you had eaten a while ago on your lips.

He pulled away and whispered, “You’re perfect,” He then turned to face Attius again, losing all sense of warmth in his gaze, “It is, with my fair judgement, deemed that the offended parties will fight until death.” Your brows furrowed at his words. He did not mean that you would fight, right?

Attius looked just as confused as you, “Caesar, surely I will not fight her?”

“Of course not,” Commodus scoffed as if the mere notion was the worst idea ever proposed, “No, you will not be fighting my lady. Moreover, my lady’s favourite animal shall fight for her.”

While Attius was still perplexed, your face dropped. You looked around the arena, suddenly aware of a looming threat. Commodus would not, would he? But then again, this kind of violence was in his nature. You understood why he picked out your outfit for that night, how the colours matched that of a tiger. The same animal he had seen you weaving into the pattern of a carpet.

Suddenly, growling could be heard, looming ever closer. With a loud thundering snap, a section of the ground was pulled back quickly. There was no time to spare as a tiger, large and snarling, lept out from the depths. A chain was linked to a collar on its neck but did little to disrupt its movements.

Your eyes were glued to the scene, stuck in a state of both stupor and intrigue. Commodus was smiling madly and he rested his chin on your shoulder. You revelled in his warmth while you watched Attius fail to fight back with nothing but a short sword.

The fight did not last long. Even if he was not beaten and frail, there was no winning against the ravenous beast. It lunged and sunk its teeth into his side. You could see the tiger's jaw clench down and elicit screams of pain from Attius’ mouth. When he fell, the tiger took it as an advantage and aimed for his throat, cutting off his wails. As the beast fed, Commodus leaned back in his throne and used a hand to turn your chin to face him.

“Do you see what I have done for you?” He began, “Take it as a vow. All those that lay a finger on you will be eaten like scraps. That was the fate of that filthy vermin that marked your arm, the fate of your master, and the fate of anyone who dares come after you now. You belong to me and me alone. Right, darling?”

You nodded, too lost in the trance of his eyes to speak. His thumb brushed your lower lip before retreating. From a small round side table, Commodus lifted a woven laurel wreath that was as green as his eyes. He placed it on you and adjusted it so it sat along the crown of your head.

“It appears you won the fight. Congratulations, my victor.” He kissed you on the cheek before gently tracing the bruise on your face. There was still an air of contempt that he held while looking at your injury, but Attius’ death gave him more satisfaction.

“Thank you, Commodus.” You said.

“We shall celebrate,” He squeezed your hips as a signal to get up and you did. He stood up after you and held out his hand, “Come,”

You placed your hand in his, warming at the familiarity of his touch. Taking one last glance at Attius’ still body, you followed Commodus out of the viewing box.

You had been eating at a table in Commodus’ chambers since the two of you arrived back at the palace. It was a private dinner, but still grand in the assembly of food laid out. The two of you ate and talked like you once did before you avoided him. It felt right to go back into that routine like all was finally right with the world.

The sun had long set and the both of you finished eating and only talked after. As the night got older, you began to unwind. Commodus stood off to the side, facing away from you as he took off his armour pieces. You occasionally glanced towards him while sipping on wine – not remembering the amount of cups you had. By the time he had gotten down to his underclothes and was unfastening his forearm braces, you decided to voice a question that had been burning you inside.

“Commodus?” He turned to give you his attention and hummed. You took another quick sip, “Why did you choose me?” He paused for a moment, as if your question did not entirely make sense.

“I’ve already told you. At the very least, part of it,” He took off his braces and placed them next to his other armour pieces. His footsteps echoed off of the marble flooring as he came back to you. Commodus rested his forearm over the top of your chair as he leaned over you.

“You sang at that festival and I felt warmth for the first time. It followed me in my dreams ever since. Admittedly, I did not know if you were still in the palace as you did not frequent above the lower levels. I should have hanged Attius for keeping you from the light.” His fingers reached out to trace your arm, moving up the length, across your shoulder, and towards the exposed collarbone.

All of a sudden, his posture went rigid. You could see the bump on his throat move up and down as he swallowed nervously. After a few tense seconds, he lowered himself to your eye level, crouching slightly. The gesture alone was incredible. Never would you have predicted an emperor would lower himself to your level, both literally and figuratively.

“I am correct in assuming these feelings are reciprocated?” He asked. You understood why he had become so nervous. While naturally ruthless, Commodus was an insecure man who looked for approval in the faces of everyone around him. Whether one could consider that a weakness or a strength was up to them. For you, none of that mattered.

It was almost comical the way you shared that same worry for a while. You too were scared that the depths of his dedication and care were shallow, but if today had taught you anything, it was that a notion like that was far from the truth.

“You are correct, Commodus.” You responded, “I deeply care for you.” Those words washed over him and you could see how he instantly relaxed. His eyelids fluttered for a moment, scanning you up and down as if to see if you were real.

He surged forward and captured your lips with his, an ecstasy of heat. You melted into the feeling and relished in the attention. His hands gripped your waist tightly and pulled you up from the chair until your lower back dug into the table. He lifted you to sit on the table, the plates and cutlery jostling with the movement. Commodus was devouring you and at that moment you realized you did not mind it at all.

His movement to pick you up and place you on the table caused you to gasp, which he used to his advantage. His tongue entered your mouth, exploring and dominant. Your breathing became laboured and your body felt fuzzy – as if all the sensations around you that were not Commodus faded into the background.

He kissed you a few more times before gently biting on your lower lip, pulling away and letting it go. You opened your eyes and saw him staring right at you. His chest was heaving slightly and he kept his forehead resting on yours; completely unwilling to be further from you in any way.

“That…” Your whispered voice trailed off. Commodus smiled at how dazed you were and was happy to see his power over you.

Glancing out the window near you, you saw just how dark it was and understood that it had to be closer to twilight. Your mood instantly died. You would need to go to bed immediately. Already you had lost out on valuable sleeping time and knew it would cause you to lack in your chores tomorrow.

“Commodus, there is nothing I would like more than to stay with you, believe me. But I need to go and rest. There are many tasks I have to get to tomorrow.”

He looked at you like you had said something incredibly bizarre, “Did you not hear what I told you in the arena? You are mine and because of that, you will do no more work. From now on, my room is yours. You are my lady, the emperor’s lady.” His hands rubbed up and down your thighs, as he pushed himself to stand between them. Even sitting on the table, you did not reach his height.

“And what will people say?” You questioned.

“They’ll say nothing if they favour their heads.” Something in the way he said those words made you more eager for him. Deciding to take charge for once, you grabbed the fabric of his tunic and pulled him towards you for a kiss. Commodus moved with you as he was eager to participate, but remained gentle to not hurt your bruises.

There was a heat that bubbled in your stomach, fueling a hunger that you had never felt before. Instinctively, your hips ground against his. Commodus reciprocated, moving the clothed area of his hardening length against your core. The kiss got more intense, a mesh of heated breath and knocking teeth. He clung to you like a last resort, like you were his last chance to arrive in the Elysium fields.

Your hands roamed everywhere, up his arms and down his chest, feeling the muscles that lay under the fabric of his tunic. The table moved with the force of each of your movements, becoming unstable. Commodus gripped your thighs, pushing them against his sides and wrapping around his waist. You let him pull your arms around his neck and he lifted you off of the table.

His strength nearly shocked you, but it was not surprising. He pulled away from the kiss long enough so he could walk up the marble steps to the raised dias that held his bed. Before you knew it, you found yourself falling onto the plush silk sheets of his bed; or more accurately what he has now framed as your shared bed. The thought sent a fluttering feeling to the already burning part of your stomach and lodged up towards your chest.

Commodus leaned down over you and rested on one forearm while he used his free hand to trace across your collarbone and neck, “You’re mine. Not the senate’s, not Rome’s, not anyone’s.”

You nodded enthusiastically, begging for more attention from him, “Yours, only yours.”

Commodus leaned down and began to assail your neck; licking, kissing, and biting every inch. You trembled under his touch and became reduced to nothing but breathless moans. His hands pulled away at the fabrics that wrapped your form, the pretty assemble being torn off you. You would have been sad about it if it were not for the fact that he could easily buy you another.

He took away each layer and left you bare under him. Commodus stopped his assault on your neck and pulled back to look at you. Despite the occasional bruise on your arms and legs and a fading one on your stomach, he reached out and gripped your hip and swiped his thumb back and forth as his gaze travelled over you.

“My Venus,” He whispered. If you were not already unwound below him, you would have melted right there.

“Commodus,” His name fell like a plea on your lips. You needed him desperately and began to tug at his clothing. He humoured you, smiling softly as he stripped down. Once he was bare, you latched onto his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. You felt the softness of his lips as your tongues explored one another. His chest brushed against yours and the skin contact made you moan. He felt just as hot as your blood, pulsing and begging under the skin.

One of his large hands trailed down your stomach and brushed over your hip bone before caressing your inner thigh. In an instant, you opened your legs – entirely ready to surrender to him. Sensing how eager you were, he chuckled against your lips.

“So impatient, my love.” His fingers moved up your inner thigh but stopped just as he got close to your core. You whimpered when he ceased his movements. “Beg, darling. Tell me how much you want me.”

“Commodus please,” You moved your hips to try and get closer to his touch but he used his other hand to hold you down. He tsked and shook his head from side to side.

“That’s not playing fair,” He scolded you. While his hands were preoccupied with holding you down, yours were free and you used that to your advantage. He may be able to bring you to heel, but you know you could do just the same.

“Fuck being fair,” It was the first time you swore in front of him and his eyes sparkled at that, “Fuck me, Commodus, please.” Your hands moved to his lower stomach, lower and lower until you were able to grasp his hard cock. His entire body shuddered and his nostrils flared. Something clicked in him, a snap and his patience was gone.

Commodus pushed up further on the bed and crawled on top of the sheets, moving right up to you. You had shuffled towards the headboard with your legs bent at the knees and together. His hands gripped your knees and spread your legs so he could slot himself between them.

“Do you want this?” His warm breath tickled your neck as he trailed his lips across the skin, just barely touching but feeling so right.

You grabbed his jaw with both of your hands and moved his head to look him in the eyes, “Would I have spread my legs for you otherwise?” His eyes darkened at that and you could feel his jaw clench.

It was then that you had an idea that may not have been the best. You had seen how possessive he was of you and the violence he was willing to give to others on your behalf. You wanted to test the waters and see how much you could rile him up.

“Are you going to stop teasing and fuck me or do I have to find someone else?” It was a fake threat. There was nobody else that could ever compare to Commodus; nobody else you would ever want to even speak to. His face fell into incredible seriousness and you let go of him, only for his hand to grip your chin. It was not strong enough to hurt but it held your attention.

“I know what you’re trying to do, darling.” He leaned down with his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “By the time I am done, you won’t even be able to think about anybody else.”

In an instant, his warm fingers brushed through your folds. You sucked in a breath at the contact. His fingers moved meticulously, discovering each stroke that made you shake under him and moan. Commodus kissed across the expanse of your neck and chest, dragging his teeth along the skin occasionally. You found it hard to keep your eyes open as you were entranced by what you felt.

Your hands moved to cart through his hair. When you tugged at the strands, Commodus groaned. It appeared he was particularly sensitive there and you made a note to remember that in the future. He retaliated by latching his lips on one of your nipples, causing your back to arch. You felt one of his fingers slip into you at the same time while his thumb circled your bud. The fire that coursed through your veins was overwhelming and your breathing became erratic. He slipped another finger into you and upped the pace, dragging in and out with the rhythm of your hips moving.

His name tumbled from your lips over and over again like you were reciting a prayer. His mouth left marks across your chest and neck, some of which you knew would not be able to cover. You had a feeling it was deliberate. In your haze of pleasure, you could feel your body pull taught. The point of no return was met.

“Com… Commodus, I–” Your voice hitched as his thumb rolled over your bud once more.

Against the heat of your skin, his voice murmured, “I know, darling. Let go.” It was as if that was the final straw you needed.

The tense string of your body snapped and you found yourself shattering. He continued his movements, helping you ride out your high. Your head lolled to the side as you shut your eyes. His fingers moved out of you and you suddenly felt sad at the loss of contact. You craved more and wished to spend the rest of your time living in this bed with Commodus.

“Open your eyes for me,” Commodus’ hands cradled your face. You slowly opened your eyes, staring right into his. His lips turned up, “There’s my girl.” He leaned in to kiss you and groaned at the feeling. Your body was still sensitive and recovering from your orgasm, but you craved more of him.

“Commodus… please.” There were no other words that needed to be said. His movements were eager, but not rushed. He shifted up so he was on his knees and grabbed his cock that was slick with precum. Slowly, almost painfully, he dragged the tip along your folds. You whimpered at the feeling and lifted your hips to feel more friction.

The haze of your previous peak was still heavy. You understood then why some people were so provocative in their transgressions. If you could stay like this with him forever you would stake your life to the ground and take that deal in a heartbeat.

You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning too much at just the feel of his cock against your folds. He collected your slick on his skin, trailing up again until the head got caught right at your entrance. Gradually, he pushed forward until he bottomed out. You saw his eyebrows furrow and noise leave his mouth that was a mix of a sigh and a groan. He muttered a few curses.

Commodus did not rush as he was content at the pace he was going because it made you come undone and desperate for anything more. The feeling of being so full made you squirm. You wanted friction or anything to bring back the feeling of ecstasy you had. Your heart felt like it was going to pump out of your chest. Being connected like this with him was the best feeling in the world and you cursed your past self for believing it was a silly fantasy. This was real; real and raw and so good.

He slowly pulled out, dragging until the last moment to make you feel empty. You whined at the loss of his warmth but quickly shut up when he pushed back in, burying himself to the hilt. He repeated that action a few times, each getting faster until he set a steady pace. Your hips matched his movements. His face was buried in your neck with his lips brushing the shell of your ear. You could hear his moans and grunts which only spurred you on further.

You scratched the planes of his back, digging deeper with each thrust. Even when so deeply connected it did not feel like it was enough. Nothing could ever feel enough to be connected with him. Your scratching made Commodus move faster, picking up the pace.

The change of speed caused you to release your hold on him, finding little energy to lift your arms. It was like you were under a spell and completely under his influence.

“That’s it, gods, good girl,” Commodus murmured into your ear. You moaned back with small babbles of his name as your brain was unable to form a single thought other than him; his presence, his feel, him, him, him. It consumed your mind and left you a squirming mess.

He took your hands that had fallen, grabbed your wrists, and pinned them above your head. Your legs wrapped around his waist and it changed the angle at which he was thrusting into you. The tip of his cock hit a soft spot in you that had you chasing stars at the back of your eyes. The stretch that he gave you was a good ache, one that spread out from your core and burned through your body.

Commodus began to mutter words with each thrust, “Mine. My girl. My Venus.” He went on and on. Your chest rose against his, pushing for a bit more contact. You wanted to reach out and touch him, but his grip on your wrist was tight. His breath hit the shell of your ear, tickling it slightly.

The familiar feeling of your build-up hit you and Commodus could tell. He continued the steady rhythm but changed the angle to reach deeper. You nearly shouted at the difference. While he was relentless, his posture changed slightly, becoming less composed as he chased the same high you were experiencing. Both of you could feel the bed moving under you, its sturdy build taking the movement.

You were wound up again and pulled taught, but this time it felt more intense than the previous. Commodus lost his movement and fucked you with reckless abandon. All manner of control was lost and his perfect posture faltered. It seemed, like you, he had become just as mindless and broken down – doing everything possible to chase pleasure. Despite it all, you could still feel the care that he had for you in the way he muttered sweet nothings into your ear. You squeezed around his length as the build-up in your stomach started to increase.

“Let go, love. Let me hear you.” Commodus instructed.

Suddenly, like the waves that crashed against the shores of the home of your childhood, a flood of ecstasy came over you as you reached your peak and descended off of it. Your wanton moans filled the room, matching the sounds the two of you had been making for a while. Commodus visibly relished in it, nipping at your earlobe and kissing your neck. The feeling of your orgasm caused your walls to squeeze and made his movements falter.

He pulled out suddenly, right as he came. The hot strings of cum coated your lower abdomen. He moved to rest his forehead on yours, eyes closed and face scrunched in the heat of his pleasure. Your legs felt numb. Commodus almost collapsed on top of you. He released his hold on your wrists and held himself up by his forearms on either side of your head.

The two of you joined in a kiss. This one was a sharp contrast to the quick pace you had. It was slow and passionate, full of trust and care. His hands tangled in your hair, pushing it back with a gentleness unseen. Your hands rested on his broad shoulders, feeling the perspiration that gathered there. Both of your bodies came down from the high, chests rising and falling.

You thought back to just a few short weeks ago when you were invited into his room. You were incredibly glad he only wanted company then. If not for that, you would have never been able to build this relationship with him. Moreso, you were incredibly thankful your younger self decided to sing at that festival and caught his attention. It seemed that little actions in life led to big changes.

It still felt absurd now with your change of position. You were no longer a servant, no longer expected to fulfill the duties that had your body aching and mind hurting at the end of the day.

It was so ridiculous to you, that you could not help but let out a chuckle. Commodus moved his forehead from yours and opened his eyes. You wished to get lost in those eyes.

“And what do you find so amusing, hm?” He spoke.

You looked at him with adoration, “Is it wrong to be happy?”

“No,” Commodus moved to rest beside you, taking a spare cloth from the wash basin placed beside the bed and wiping your stomach down. There was something in his movements that felt almost… domestic. It was not something you ever thought of an emperor doing. “I’m glad you are happy.”

A beat of silence passed as he laid down next to you on his back and used an arm to pull you flush against him. Your head rested on his pec, hearing the thumping of his heart.

“Are you happy?” You asked. He squeezed you closer and kissed your temple.

“You made me happy long before all of this.” He answered. Your face scrunched up with wonder.

“What do you mean?” You lifted your head to look into his eyes, fingers tracing patterns onto his chest.

“Your singing. It followed me everywhere since that festival. From my mind,” He placed one hand over yours and guided it right above where his heart would be, “to here.”

There were no words you could think of to respond with. The poetics of his words hit you. You wanted to drown in him, to stay there in that moment for a lifetime. You reached out to trace his jaw, thumb massaging the top of his cheekbone. He leaned into your touch and kissed the pulse point of your wrist.

“I don’t know how I could ever thank you, for everything,” You could barely imagine what it would be like back in your old life, under the constant fear of your old master, “I may not know what I can do to repay you but–”

“Stay with me.” He interrupted you. There was a shine in his eyes, “You want to repay me? Stay. That is all I need.”

You stared at him and nodded your head, “I’ll always stay.”

The two of you understood the depths of the promise. It was your own declaration of love, without the words being spoken. A mutual understanding and a promise of forever. It was not traditional to other couples, but again you knew this relationship already did not fit within the bounds of traditionality. It did not matter.

You kissed him again, sealing the words upon both of your lips. There, you were content to start a new life; a better life.

This was incredibly fun to write! I am 100% open to writing more fics for any characters in the Gladiator films and plan to open up requests. So, if that's something ya'll are interested in, let me know.

Thank you all for the support! <3

taglist: @scrumptiousloser @juliusceasersblog @po1sonddol @cheesecakeluver @oscarisdaddy69

#emperor commodus #gladiator #commodus imagine #commodus fanfic #commodus fanfiction #joaquin phoenix #commodus x reader #commodus x you #gladiator 2000

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feitanii-ll · 6 months ago

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★ —–– " how they love you — jjk version

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who would give you the world if he could. and trust me, he's tried.

satoru who doesn't believe that he could find true love, surprised that he has the ability to be so vulnerable around you. drop that stupid, "honored" role and just... be with you.

the one who tries to make you laugh as much as he possibly can, because your laughter keeps him alive. your smile makes his brain all hazy. the crinkles in your brow makes him stare— he's crazy about you.

satoru who's so so strong, but wouldn't dare use that strength to hurt you. using it only to help. gloating about how many grocery bags he can carry on both arms, though it's simply to showcase his strength, and to lessen your struggles.

the man who scoffs in the face of higher-ups when they scold him for interrupting their meetings with your ringtone, and answering your calls.

"it's my wife?" he simply shrugs, when asked why he insists on making a mockery of these meetings.

satoru who tries to be helpful in his own ways, researching little online tips on "how to keep your spouse happy!" he's embarrassed when you see the search history, reassuring him that he's already perfect, and helps so so much.

satoru brags about you, because God, are you beautiful. so graceful. you put up with him.

he sobs to himself in the night when when sees you lying beside him. you chose him...and not just for his strength or title, and he knows this. his emotions are through the roof for you.

your husband, satoru, loves so loudly.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈, 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 didn't even think he was worthy of love.

it's sad to hear, how undeserving he felt before he met you. with a busy work schedule, crabby attitude, and dangerous job, he convinces himself that it's impossible for him to find someone who could "put up" with him.

for the longest, kento yearned love. a marriage. a happy home. a new feeling of pride in something positive.

kento is a new man when he meets you.

kento who treats you like absolute glass, completely careful of you emotionally, physically, and mentally. there will never be a day in which kento doesn't know what you're feeling. he knows his way through your heart and soul, making it his job to be able to read you in and out— he knows you better than you know yourself.

kento who feels like he needs to spoil you. like it's in his blood to give you top-tier quality items, the only time he ignores you being when you try to convince him otherwise.

this is a man who wakes up on his own at ungodly times of the night and looks over his shoulder to see you sleeping soundly beside him, your designated spot all warm from how relaxed your body is into the mattress. he finds himself, like a routine, gently rubbing your silk-clad back as you sleep on your tummy before reaching over.

"hi, sweetheart. I miss you," he mumbles against your ear, giving the shell a soft kiss. its not like you're gone, but he simply misses you because you're asleep, unable to speak to him. "sleep well." he finishes, before settling in bed beside you.

nanami wants you to make his house a home. he knows your favorite isle in the grocery store is the home-goods; he doesn't miss the way your eyes gleam at the pillows, coasters, and floor mats that could match whichever theme you so desperately want. loves when you point to a house plant and explain why it'd be such a good detail to your house.

kento doesn't hesitate to buy you everything you look at, and no, you're not allowed to object.

kento loves you cautiously— in the best ways.

𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎, 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 is such an angel.

"can I help, my love?"

"do you need anything from me?"

"no no, I'll do it, darling."

he's so unbelievably sweet to you, constantly trying to help you out, make you feel happy, do whatever he can in exchange for your sweet sweet praise that he lives off of.

choso, the man who can't keep himself off of you. the one who pushes his head into your tummy from under your arms as you scroll through your phone, furrowing his brows when you only giggle instead of run your fingers through his hair like he was hoping.

choso who's still a little new to the world, and gets excited over the smallest of things. amusement parks, grocery stores, pet shops— he's so curious.

the one who makes you breakfast in the morning, trying his best not to wake you up with clattering pots and pans, so excited when he successfully makes you a meal and brings it to your sleeping form.

cho who doesn't stop inviting yuuji over, considering he's about the only immediate family. his heart melts when he realizes that this is his family. you, itadori, and him.

choso who discovers Polaroid cameras, and snaps a photo of you three when you're out and about. pictures of frogs in your backyard, pictures of yuuji tumbling down a steep slope on your hiking trip, photos of the two of you on a lazy day in which you stay in (one he slips into his clear phone case).

choso, is so so patient— often being the mediator to your overthinking or frustration. he's so good in the way he calms you down, gently tugging you by your hip in attempts to pull you away from strangers you wind up bickering with at the mall for being so rude to you.

choso who loves yiu and all your attitude, often calling you his "angry bird." (he only just learned of the game.

choso loves you so sweetly.

#𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jutusu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x reader fluff #jjk gojo #kento nanami x reader fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #choso x reader fluff #choso kamo

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itsagoodluckkiss · 7 months ago

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Lost Time

Pairings: Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader

WC: 2K

Warnings: Mutual pining, idiots in love, just pure fluff, no use of Y/N

A/N: Finally coming out from my hole to work on the requests I have neglected for so long. It was a rough couple of months, I'm juggling work, school and the problems that come with existence, so please be kind. English is not my first language, so sorry if this is all over the place at times. This is a request from my lovely @macbethsymphony, I love you so much, beautiful. I combined the two ideas and I really hope you'll at least enjoy it. Also forgive me for not making it suggestive, fluff suited it better I think. 💕

"Hiya 💕 Can I request something? I’m really craving some Zoro fluff 👉👈 I was thinking of something along the lines of kind of an accidental confession? Like the reader accidentally says they find him handsome but quickly and casually brushes it off (out of embarrassment but they’ve got a good poker face) but it sticks in his mind for days. Or maybe something about insomniac alone time in the crows nest? Idk I’ll let you chose what you prefer (if you decide to go for it that is because absolutely no pressure!!!) I’ll also let you decide if you wanna make it suggestive :3 whatever feels best for the story! Anyways love you ✨"

If anyone had said to you two years ago that you’d find your forever family on a pirate ship, you would have laughed at their face. Sometimes, when you lay in your bed at night, you still can’t comprehend the fact that you’re surrounded with such unique and amazing people. Despite the hardships and pain you had endured, you would never exchange the loving bond you had with your friends, each one holding a special place in your heart. But one of those bonds was slightly different.

It was slightly unbelievable how you had hit it off instantly with the swordsman of the crew, ever since they picked you up from your small island town back in the East Blue. Zoro’s your partner in crime, the person closest to you, the one you’d always trust with your hopes and fears. Even in moments of weakness, he was the person who managed to make you get it together. And somehow in return, you had managed to crack through his hard shell, gaining his trust and respect. Υour cheeky and bubbly personality appealing to his nonchalant character, making him smile whenever you were around, whenever you’d spend time together.

In the battlefield, you two were a force to be reckoned with. You always had his back, literally, watching out for enemies’ sneak attacks, him always protecting you when you were down, cutting down on anyone who dared to touch you. And that’s why Zoro never went easy on you during training, always wanting you to give you a challenge so you’d be in your best shape when in need. You appreciated that he never judged you based on gender, but sometimes, you wish he would relax, both for your sake and his.

It was the following days of a particularly rough battle; your bodies were still recovering from the wounds you sustained. You were in the crow’s nest, trying to keep up with his quick moves, the muscles of your legs straining as you deflected his attacks. Honestly, you couldn’t understand how this man could move with those dreaded wounds on him, but here he was, almost kicking you off your feet.

“Don’t lose your focus.”

Your eyes met his as you panted, trying to find your breath, fists raised in the air, sweat running down your forehead. You glanced down his body, your eyes widening when you saw the red streak on the bandages that covered his waist. You relaxed your stance immediately, going towards him to make him sit down the bench.

“Stupid bastard, you reopened your wound!”

“It’s nothing, don’t hover over me, we shouldn’t stop.”

“Shut up and sit still, let me see.”

You unwrapped the bandages around him, flinching when the slash on his ribs was visible to you. You grabbed the first aid kit from across the room. Chopper had insisted there would be one in every room because according to him, he may be a reindeer, but he may not always be able to treat all of you animals simultaneously. You sat beside Zoro on the bench. Disinfecting the wound got you a slight, almost silent hiss from him.

“You’re lucky the stiches haven’t reopened.”

“See? It’s nothing, no need to fuss.”

“You know, I only joined you today because I wanted to stop you eventually. You shouldn’t strain your body like that, Zoro. You should give it time to heal.”

You were careful with your moves, applying the ointment your doctor had made, cleaning the skin around his wound and then got the sweat off his abs before you wrapped fresh bandages around him. You were the only person besides Chopper that Zoro allowed to tend to his wounds. You had to admit that it made you feel special. It also gave you a chance to touch that body that felt like it was sculpted by the gods. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you never starred at him when he wouldn’t look, or how your heart thumped in your chest whenever he was too close. You had come to peace with your feelings of love for the swordsman, and you had come to peace with the fact that you’d never say a word about them. They wouldn’t be reciprocated anyways, so why would you ruin your friendship over them?

Right now, you had him in your arms, and it was enough. Rubbing the tension off his shoulders, his back laying against your chest, sighing in relief. His guard was down when you two were alone, allowing himself some sort of vulnerability, trusting in you to keep that side of him to yourself. His chiseled back, bare and clean from scars, laid in your display. His eyes were closed and you could see with the corner of your eye his facial features slowly relaxing. Your mind was racing, how you wanted to smother that beautiful face of his with kisses. You were smiling to yourself, not realizing you were thinking out loud.

“You’re so handsome…”

Your eyes widened for a second, breath caught in your throat, before you composed yourself as his eyes snap open to look at you, his gaze as stoic as always, not able to read what was going on in his mind.

“What?”

“I mean, you’re too handsome to die from not taking care of yourself. Do better, Roronoa.”

Your mind was reeling, almost short circuiting, but you kept your cool, appearing unbothered by what you just said, although you let go of him almost immediately after. You gathered your things, ready to go die in your room from embarrassment. He rises to his feet, stretching his limbs before grabbing a tower to wipe off the remaining sweat off his forehead.

“I’m gonna go lay down. You should rest too. Promise me you won’t train more today, yes?”

A sigh of annoyance left his mouth. “Okay, I promise you. Happy?”

“Yes. I’ll see you later.”

He had to admit, he didn’t expect your compliment. Of course, you had complimented each other’s skills and fighting in the past, but you had never made a comment about his appearance. Zoro pondered over it the next couple of days. He noticed how you had scattered almost immediately after, and even if you didn’t let your emotions take the better of you, he could sense your nervousness after that comment. He was taken aback but didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by mentioning the topic. It also gave him a sense of satisfaction. He had to admit he was happy you thought about him like that. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but the weird feeling that had taken its place in his heart from the first time you joined this crew was growing stronger each passing day.

Zoro had tried to deny his emotions for a long time. But two years apart made him realize there was no point in that. The times he would catch himself thinking about you, missing you in a different way than the rest of the crew. The way his heart clenched when he saw you again. How different, even more beautiful, you were but also how it was like no time had passed when you wrapped your hands around him in glee that you were with him again. It made him see there was no denying the devotion he had for you. Yet, he didn’t want to smother you over it, making you feel awkward for not reciprocating his feelings.

But your compliment made him doubt his decision. He recounted the times he had caught you staring at him, only to turn your head away in embarrassment. Or how you always leaned on him when you were tipsy, giggling against his shoulder. And how he always held you close in those moments. What if you actually felt the same? What if you actually saw him the way he saw you, and you were afraid of the same thing he was. Rejection. Zoro was never the man that cared about people accepting him or not. But it felt different with you. A stupid need wanted you to accept him in a certain way. The way two lovers got together in those novels Robin was reading about in her spare time. Love is a strong word, but he couldn’t find a better one for his feelings.

All these thoughts were swirling in his head as he nursed his bottle of sake while keeping watch in the crow’s nest until he heard the hatch opening. And as if some divine power was watching over him, you came into the room, closing the hatch behind you.

“Knew I’d find you here.”

“I’m keeping watch, so I don’t know where else I could be.”

You both chuckled as you made your way to stand next to him, leaning on the railing.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Something like that, yeah. I’ve been tossing and turning for the past hour.”

Zoro said nothing, instead offering you his bottle. You gingerly took it from his hand, your fingers brushing just for a second. You took a swig, looking out on the open sea. There was a full moon illuminating down on you, and no sound around you except the gentle waves against the hull of your ship. You stayed like that for a while, eyes on the vast ocean around you.

“You ever think about lost time?”

You turn your gaze in surprise when you heard him speak.

“What do you mean?”

“… Things you should have done but were late to do and you wasted time.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Zoro finally looked at you. You couldn’t read the gaze he had in his eyes but the hold he had on you would never allow you to look away.

“That two years have passed without seeing you and I still haven’t said that I thought of you every single day.”

“You… thought of me?”

You felt your heart clenching. Your eyes widen as you stared at him. Did he actually just say that? Zoro was never a man that played with his words, always blunt and straightforward. He scoffed lightheartedly, a small smile on his face at your shocked expression.

“Of course I did. And during that time, I also realized I wasted time wondering what you’d think of me while I could have spent it holding you in my arms.” He took a small pause. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

He turned his gaze to look at the sea once again while your now teary eyes were glued at him, hanging on the words that fell from his mouth, a wide smile forming on your face. It felt like a dream. A dream you regularly had in those two agonizing years you yearned to see him again.

“What are you sorry for?”

His eyes were on you again, reading your expression.

“I-”

“Do you have any idea how many times I wanted to just tell you? How much struggle it took to keep it all down?”

Your bodies were now thoughtlessly closing the distance between you, almost touching. Your hands grasped his shoulders softly while his traveled to your waist to hold you steadily in his chest.

“You should have.”

He leaned slightly, your foreheads touching. His gaze buried into yours, communicating all the feelings that both of you shared. Longing, reluctance, uncertainty and most of all, love.

“I don’t want to waste more time. May I kiss you?”

You gave him a toothy grin, a tear sliding down your face.

“Yes. Please.”

His hand cupped your cheek to wipe the tear away as his lips found yours in a sweet kiss that held no hesitation, all the unspoken words both of you hadn’t spoken in so long pouring into it. His other hand held your waist firmly against him while your lips moved in sync with a passion that couldn’t be described, as the moon shone down on you, the only witness to your link. After a moment you broke the kiss to catch your breath, smiling, his breath falling on your lips as he chuckled breathlessly, foreheads still against each other.

“You’re stuck with me now.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, Zoro.”

#roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #one piece #one piece fanfiction #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro fanfiction #zoro fluff #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #zoro one piece #opla x reader #zoro opla #opla!zoro x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you

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vampireimiko · 2 months ago

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Adam Warlock (with a closed off reader) Headcanons !!

warnings, none 👅

note, GUYS I NEED THE PRESIDENT LOKI SKIN SO BAD 💔💔

Being assigned to work with Adam Warlock was… unexpected. Actually, it was downright baffling. Of all the people to pair you with, they chose him—the golden boy, the literal perfect human.

And who decided this, you might ask? None other than Rocket.

“Listen, I ain’t sayin’ you need friends or whatever,” Rocket had said, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. “But you’re always brooding in the corner, and Goldilocks over there could use a little more—what’s the word—edge. So, congrats. You’re partners now.”

You readied yourself to argue and protest, but Rocket was already walking away before you could get a word in. So now, here you were, stuck with Adam Warlock on some intergalactic mission, the two of you an absolute contrast in both appearance and personality.

Adam, as expected, was completely unbothered by the arrangement. If anything, he seemed intrigued.

“You have a rather… intense aura,” he noted, floating beside you as you both scanned the landscape of the planet you were on. His tone wasn’t mocking—just curious. “You guard yourself as if the universe itself is a threat.”

You scoffed. “Aren’t you supposed to be all-knowing or something? Figure it out.”

He didn’t seem offended by your snark. In fact, he smiled a little. “That would take the fun out of getting to know you, wouldn’t it? You have so much sass for someone so short.”

You shot him a glare. “Say that again, Goldilocks.”

Adam tilted his head, as if genuinely considering it. “You are quite short,” he mused, then added, “in comparison to me, of course.”

Your glare deepened, but Adam just smiled—like he had already figured out you wouldn’t actually get mad at him for it. Annoying.

You’d make snarky remarks. He’d take them in stride.

You’d try to push him away. He’d stay right where he was.

You’d insist you worked better alone. He’d simply say, “Perhaps. But you are not alone.”

At first, it was infuriating. You weren’t used to people wanting to be around you, especially someone as—let’s face it—golden as Adam. He was like the sun itself, warm and bright, and you were content lurking in the shade. But he never let the darkness swallow you completely.

You’d make some grumbled excuse to leave, and he’d follow with that same easy stride. “Where are we going?”

“We?” you’d scoff. “I’m going somewhere. You can stay here.”

He never does.

During missions, you noticed he never hesitated to have your back. Not just in battle—where he was, unsurprisingly, a force to be reckoned with—but even in casual situations.

There was a time when someone called you difficult to work with and Adam had responded, “I find them rather delightful.”

You had stared at him for a good thirty seconds after that one.

And yet, despite all this, he never forced you to open up. If anything, he seemed content with whatever you gave him, no matter how little. He simply existed in your space, patient as ever, as if he knew the walls you built weren’t as impenetrable as you thought.

Then, one evening, after another long mission, you caught yourself waiting for him to sit beside you at the ship’s window. And when he did, you didn’t find yourself moving away.

additional note ! i need a new phone

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

#spirits works 🤍#x reader #fem!reader #marvel #marvel rivals #marvel rivals x reader #adam warlock #adam warlock x reader #gotg #gotg x reader

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 year ago

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Shot Through The Heart III

Alexia Putellas x Archer!Reader

Summary: You're pregnant

"Don't."

Alexia backed away quickly, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

"I was just-"

"No."

"Amor-"

"No, Alexia. I'm pregnant, not an invalid."

You got to your feet and stretched, ignoring the way that Alexia hovered uncertainly as you balanced the laundry basket on your hip on your way up the stairs.

"I can carry it." She trailed you everywhere you went. "You shouldn't be carrying such heavy things. The babies-"

"The babies will be fine and, unless you're going through twenty kits daily, this basket barely weighs anything."

Your pregnancy hadn't come as a surprise. You and Alexia had been trying for a while before it worked. It had been decided that you would carry, your sport was a lot less physically taxing than Alexia's. It was all going smoothly until you had gone to a scan one day to find out that you weren't having one baby girl like you thought.

You were having two.

Alexia, of course, had taken mother henning to the extreme when she had found out, hovering incessantly and staying with you as long as possible before heading to practice.

That hovering nature had extended to every aspect of your life the moment that you started showing.

She trailed you up the stairs, opening the wardrobe doors for you when you started to fold the clothes.

"Alexia," You said in warning when she started dividing everything up.

"Amor," She said back," I'm just helping."

You swatted at her with a t-shirt. "You're being a nuisance and you're hovering. Again. Cut it out."

"I'm not hovering!" She insisted, still very clearly hovering.

"You are." You rolled your eyes, bending down to grab the socks that had fallen on the floor.

"I'm not!"

"Alexia," You said, putting the last of the laundry away," You are most certainly hovering." You turned to face her. "I'm fine. The girls are fine. Everything's fine."

She sighed, holding her breath in for a few seconds before releasing. "Okay. I'm sorry, amor. I just want to make sure all three of you are safe."

You press a kiss onto her cheek. "I know. If it didn't annoy me so much, I'd say it's cute how protective you are over us."

Alexia took a step forward and placed her hand daringly on your bump. "I just want you to be careful."

You rolled your eyes fondly. "What do you think I do all day while you're at work? I sit on the sofa all day and type on my laptop. You're lucky I love you or I wouldn't have taken a break from training so early."

Your bow was resting comfortably in the corner of the living room, just collecting dust after you put it aside as soon as you started to show.

You'd probably have gone on for a bit longer with your bow but it made Alexia antsy so you stopped and just continued with your interviews and writing so she would stop breaking out in hives every time you left her to go train.

Alexia spent most of her time with you on a good day but now that you were making a family together, she was adamant about staying with you until she absolutely has to. She stayed in bed for as long as possible in the morning and she didn't hang behind at training to speak with her teammates.

If the team wanted to go out together, she either bowed out or changed the get-together to your shared house so she could hold your hand and rest her head on your shoulder.

"Names?" You asked one evening as you rested on the sofa with Alexia massaging your swollen feet.

"Whatever you want," She replied," I don't mind."

"You must have some opinion, Ale," You said," Don't tell me you have no ideas."

"You're carrying them," Alexia said," You have all the power here, amor. I'm just happy that I'm the one you chose to take along for this ride."

"You're so sappy," You said with a fond eye roll," You have no opinions? What about middle names?"

Alexia's face got a little red and she couldn't meet your eyes for a moment. "I'd like for one to be Elisabet, after Mama."

"Good idea," You said," And for the other one?"

"I was thinking either Alba or María but I don't know if I want either of them to get a bigger head than they already have."

"I think if Alba's head gets any bigger then it might roll off her neck," You joked and finally got a little smile out of your wife.

"What about you?" She asked," You asked about names. You must have some in mind."

You stared at the picture of your most recent ultrasound, tracing over each of your babies.

"Baby A could be Elena," You said," Baby B...Maybe Maya."

"I like them," Alexia replied," Elena and Maya Putellas-l/n."

"Maya Elisabet," You smiled," And Elena...Well, you'll just have to decide which one you'd prefer to inflate the ego of."

"Elena María but Alba can be godmother."

Maya and Elena came into the world two days after an El Clásico win for Barcelona. Two little crying babies that fit easily in your arms rounded out a perfect week for you and Alexia.

"Perfect girls," Alexia said as she admired them before looking over at you in pure contentment," My three perfect girls."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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davidtennantgenderenvy · 1 year ago

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My Two Cents On The “ Is David Tennant Queer” Drama

As some of you know, I spent a solid third of the past year working on a movie-length video essay about David Tennant. This video essay features an eight minute section titled “Gender, Vulnerability, and Why David Tennant Is A Queer Icon”, which does not speculate on David’s own sexuality, but discusses the queer coding and subversion of gender norms in plenty of his roles and his importance as an ally to the LGBT community. At the same time, I was also coming to terms with my own identity as nonbinary and bisexual, and it ended up playing a crucial role in me finally working up the courage to come out to my parents. Characters like Crowley and the Doctor, both in terms of how they present themselves and how and who they love, have been absolutely instrumental in me developing my queer identity, and my comments section was full of people who had had similar experiences, who’d realized they were trans, nonbinary, gay, etc thanks to David and his characters. And as a result, I won’t deny that if David himself were to be queer, it would mean a lot to me.

Do I think David is queer? It’s certainly possible. I see a lot of how I express my queerness in how david chooses to express himself, most prominently through his frequent queer coding of characters who don’t necessarily have to be played as such. This can especially be seen through his Shakespeare characters, such as Richard, Hamlet, and some would argue Benedick as well. When I was 15 I played Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet, who I chose to play as a closeted young gay man harboring an unrequited crush on Romeo. I think I saw this role subconsciously as an outlet for my own repressed queerness, both of gender and sexuality, as I had experienced an unrequited crush on my female best friend the previous year which I was still in denial about. I’ve described my gender identity as “a girl with a chaotic tortured gay man inside of her that needs to be let out every once in a while”, which has never been more true than with Mercutio- a character who I might add, I took a great deal of inspiration from David when playing! In terms of using roles as an outlet for one’s queerness, I could absolutelt see this being true with David, especially when it comes to Crowley, who seems to have had an impact on David’s style, behavior, etc in a rather similar way to how he’s impacted me. I don’t want to act like David wearing pink docs means he must be gay, I think people should be allowed to wear whatever they want regardless of sexuality, but taken in conjunction with so many other things about him, it does make one wonder, and the fact that a seemingly straight man has been so many people’s queer awakening is a bit puzzling to say the least. I won’t pretend that these “signs” (if you interpret them that way), haven’t been increasing somewhat in the past year, and if I got to share my own coming out journey with the man who inspired it, I would be absolutely thrilled. I also can’t specifically think of an instance where David has SAID he is straight, as opposed to Taylor swift, who has.

With all of that said, where I personally draw the line is when mere speculation crosses into interfering with the subject’s personal relationships and the sense that one is OWED something. I believe that what matters to David more than anything is being a husband and a father. I believe he adores Georgia and his children and would not do anything in the world that he believes would jeopardize his family. As happy as I would be for David if he were to come out (probably as bi) I realize that that would put so much unwanted attention on his marriage and family and I think that’s the last thing he wants. I don’t think it’s IMPOSSIBLE that he and Michael Sheen are having a passionate love affair behind everyone’s backs, but I absolutely don’t consider it my place to insist that they are, because as much as I may feel like I do, I don’t know these people! And besides, if David were cheating on Georgia, he really would not be the person I thought he was.

So many queer people see themselves in David and his characters, and that is beautiful. And I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with having theories that David might be queer himself. However, it must be acknowledged that these theories are THEORIES, and they should not be used to invalidate people’s real life relationships- after all, it’s totally possible to be bi/pan and also be in a loving and healthy heterosexual relationship like David and Georgia at least seem to be in! If David were in fact “one of us”, I would welcome him with the openest of open arms, but unless and until he himself decides to proclaim himself that way, I will not expect anything of him other than to be the incredible artist and person we know and love.

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m4rs-ex3 · 12 days ago

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i mean since y'all insisted...

worth losing a hand for

The scent of smoke in the air was like a strange kind of lavender; maybe it was that they were all being poisoned by the inhalation, but there was a kind of blanket effect—a little suffocating, but also a little cozy.

The whole of the makeshift camp seemed to feel it. Despite the chaos in everyone’s heads, the atmosphere was quiet, the thick air seeming to muffle whatever noise there was. The displaced Katolian stragglers that hadn’t yet made it to the next town over didn’t look like people who had just lost their homes—maybe even other people—only days prior as much as they looked tired, which, yeah, was understandable.

Rayla clearly looked plenty tired herself, as Callum suggested she sit down. Most citizens and supplies had been sorted by then, and she didn’t much feel like arguing. She doubted anyone else could have judged her.

She glanced over to Ezran, sitting off to the side, looking glum—for Ez, at least—and it certainly seemed like no one was judging him. They certainly had no right to.

Rayla took a seat beside the young king, watching his bright blue eyes flicker to her for just a moment.

“Y’know,” she started, “I overheard Barius talking. Apparently his apron has these… secret compartment, pocket things? Each one with a different jelly tart ingredient, enough for one whole tart. I bet he’s making it for you right now.”

Ezran laughed softly, and Rayla released a little breath. “I know you’re just messing around,” he said, “but that does make me feel better.”

“Hey, it’s true!” she protested, then winced and added: “Okay, yeah, no… I lied. But, I do know that Stella has a couple spares in her portal. If you scratch her real good on the head, she might let you have one.” Rayla winked.

“Thank you, Rayla,” Ez said, seeming genuinely lighter. He turned his gaze back outwards, and Rayla could see his eyes lock in on Callum. She knew Ez had been… conflicted, after hearing about everything they’d been up to.

He had been happy to know that Aaravos was neutralized and safe at the Starscraper, and he was absolutely ecstatic on the update about them, but… then there was Runaan. They had yet to meet (and, if Rayla was being honest, a part of them hoped they never would), and Runaan was currently staying at the Nexus, yet Rayla could feel a new tension in Ezran. The elf may have been her father, but he was also the one to kill his.

The whole camp seemed to be taking an “out of sight, out of mind” approach to everything at the moment, though, so it wasn’t really being addressed by anyone, let alone Ezran himself. However, Callum—Harrow’s son who chose to free the assassin—was well within his sight. Quite literally, as was being exhibited.

He wasn’t mad as much as he was ever so slightly perturbed, and a little forlorn. Of course, this was invisible to most, but Rayla knew the kid well enough to see it (something she prided herself on, in fact).

Although, it seemed Ezran was ready to make it a little more visible.

He sighed heavily, not meeting her gaze. “Rayla,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“You’re lucky, you know that?” he stated as he tucked his knees into his chest.

Rayla couldn’t exactly agree with that sentiment on all fronts, but, nonetheless curious, she asked, “How d’you mean?”

Ez donned a small, somewhat sad smile. “You can understand my brother.”

Rayla released a nervous chuckle because she didn’t know what else to do. She’d never seen Ezran jealous in her life, but she supposed this was what she should have expected from it. She resisted the urge to pull him into a tight huh right then and there.

“Ezran…” she started, not exactly sure what she intended to finish with.

He did her a favor and continued on his own. “I just mean…” he said. “I don’t know. I always thought I knew him, but when he’s with you… it’s clear that I don’t know him as well as I thought.”

Rayla was struggling not to feel guilty; he went on. “I’m not… it’s not that I don’t approve of what he does—who he is, I just…” He unburied his face from his folded arms and stared off, eyes growing wider, almost frightened. “I have no idea what he might do.” What he’s capable of.

She could understand that. “Trust me, Ez,” she assured. “It’s not your fault. He’s—” she snorted, despite herself, “He’s got a lot going on.”

Ezran seemed to lighten up. “Don’t tell him,” he said, a smile growing, “but the guards love to call him ‘the drama prince.’”

Rayla laughed loudly, now, and he giggled alongside her. “That’s him alright,” she snickered. “You can’t help but love him for it, though, huh?” she added more quietly.

Ez didn’t answer, only took up that somber smile again, and Rayla placed her hand on his shoulder.

“You know he loves you more than anything, right?” she told him.

He looked back at her and, without even a hint of bitterness, said, “Oh, no, not more than anything.” His gaze was knowing.

“Ez,” she responded, flushing slightly.

He elected not to dwell on it, instead just sighing heartily.

When had he ever been this tired before?

yeah when i said i just could NOT bring myself to finish this i meant it. so srry you get a cliffhanger xx. i didn't want to post this for a while bc of how so very different it ended up being to s7 and i didn't want to, idk, disrespect s7? trust me i love the angst

although i was pretty on point with "i don't know what he's capable of..... 7x08 "if i can't do anything callum will do something terrible" and all.......................

#rayllum #rayla #tdp rayla #callum #tdp callum #ezran #tdp ezran #dragang #tdp #the dragon prince #continuethesaga #giveusthesaga #fanfic #my fic #tdp fanfic #ficlet

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weaselbeaselpants · 17 days ago

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I'm tired

It's hard to call myself anything more than an observer of drama because that's absolutely what I am. But I have been here awhile in both the Helluvaverse-critical spaces and the Lily Orchard-call out ones. It hurts seeing the people I trust and consider resourceful in one space be bad-mouthed, lied about and called horrible things in another over their support/dislike of SaiScribbles.

Sai is not an essayist. She's a reaction-channel art steamer. I personally didn't even care or could really make it through her pro-SU vids taking down Lorch's bs, and I like that show, so I don't really care what she says in simping for the show and fandom that grinds my gears. Since she apparently hasn't gone into KenDraws', Faustisse's*, Salem's* or Malcom's* accounts I personally don't think she knows everything she thinks there is to know about either Viv or Rebecca Sugar. I think Sai thinks she knows better than everyone else because she happens to be better at understanding media she likes than Lily Orchard does the things she hates.

This attitude, and also that time a few months back where she agreed with the rube telling me that Palestine-campaigns are all scams, really rub me the wrong way and it's why I blocked Sai. She legit she hurt me by talking down to me (regardless of if she meant to or not) and I don't want anything but to personally not look at her icon as much as I can. I think Sai's Lily coverage is a net positive but I personally don't like her. It just sucks because there are a lot of those other people I do think are better resources about Orchard's abuse, and those people do like Sai. I'm not gonna tell them what to do and how they're evil if they don't do what I want them to do or whatever cuz ohmyfuckinggodwe'reADULTS why are we acting like this??

I also definitely know that Sai DID NOT "dress up as Lily" or "give money to Lily". In reality another critic of Lily gave Lily a superchat, not 'for the lulz' but to confront Lilz on why she sent him a multiple death threats, (which is also the current reason Lily's been banned from Tumblr, I believe). What Sai did was make a parody of Lily's video style for April Fools. Courtney Orchard, Lily's irl abused sibling whom everyone in the critical sphere does believe the accounts of, lashed out at Sai and anyone doing parody artwork of Lily, insisting that it's the same as "giving Lily fanart". I have to highkey disagree on that, regardless of how I feel. Courtney and ILoveKimPossibleALot -who's leaked a lot of private calls and info she was told to keep private- are lying that Sai ever supported Lily in anyway. That is untrue. For all the biases that may exist in me that part is just untrue, sns.

A sad fact is even without Sai, Courtney has been very volatile of different people including other victims of Lily Orchard's ab*se. Courtney's also (as of this time) set on partnering with LioConvoy to take Lily down, a streamer Court disowned but then backtracked on and is supporting despite his own bigoted/abusive behaviors.

There's in-fighting. And I just hate it. I can't ask us all the work together and be besties I'm not your guys' lifecoach. I only know, because I know how quick others are to start accusing people of saying this, that Sai nor Viv nor Courtney are the same kind of beast as Lillian CD-Call Orchard. They are nail bombs; Lily's atomic. SU and Helluvaverse is what I come to rag on cuz I don't have a life; Orchard (also Patricia Taxxon) need to get out of my damn life and my mind. I want to unsee them and the work they made so much. They're what this is actually about.

***keep reading

If you're wondering why the I put an asterisk * on those links above it's because sadly a receipt/drama thread on twitter is the only places you can find Malcom, Salem's and Faustisse's accounts on what it was like working at Spindlehorse on. All of them were forced off twitter/deleted their accounts because of harassment from Viv's base. Don't @ me over how I chose I 'biased source', it's sadly through archiving, call outs and KiwiFarms threads that the "proof" people are talking about is often able to exist.

If Sai has the right to read Erin Frost's receipts and call them bull than I have the right to read through those same receipts and say "this really doesn't look photoshopped/out of context to me:"

#sai scribbles #vivziepop critical #courtney peet #courtney orchard #drama #infighting

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palelaboratory · 2 months ago

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Death Island Jill Valentine x Female Reader Headcanons

۶ৎ What it's like to stay over at Jill's high-rise condominium.

۶ৎ Slight nsfw, fluff, Jill deserves everything.

۶ৎ Any form of interaction is highly appreciated, thank you mwah.

She chose a high-rise for its privacy, and a condominium for its security.

She is not fond of landed houses due to her past.

Her place is clean and tidy, and you could faintly smell the floor cleaner and air spray that she probably used a few hours before you came over.

There is little colour variation in her apartment; it's mostly whites, blacks, blues, browns, just darker hues.

She is particular about clutter. Now that she is older, she doesn't like having too many items on surfaces.

She is a huge fan of trinkets, little figures, cards, and whatever she buys during her travel, or receives as gifts.

Sometimes, she buys the figurines from your favourite shows and display them to gain your envy. Also because it reminds her of you when she's gone, she likes to keep things that keep you happy.

She loves high quality leather notebooks with her named carved on the front.

She had received her first embossed one as a birthday gift from you last year and she has only bought from that brand ever since.

She has a little box that she keeps in her drawers for the stickers you gave her.

If you pay close attention, you can see one or two of yours pasted on her leather notebook.

She usually picks you up and hugs you tightly when you appear at her doorstep, trying to memorize and etch your scent into her memory.

Her hold is gentle and comforting, her supple breasts pressed against yours.

She always asks you if you had anything to eat, even if you say yes, she'll usually lay out a snack or two on the dining table.

She knows you don't know how to ask for shyt at people's houses, although you two have been together for a while now.

"If I ever hear that stomach growling again you'll get it from me" She warns as she prepares some French toast and fruits with her back turned against you.

She is usually not talkative.

But she sure loves watching you, sometimes too directly that you just give her a weak smile as if to question her.

"You got a problem darling?"

Not talkative, but man does she love to tease you relentlessly, always so sarcastic, sometimes laughing at her own jokes.

My gosh that sweet laugh and that smile

Although you always tell her how shyt her jokes are, you can't help but to laugh along with her, how could you not?

When she is talkative, it is absolutely lively and adorable.

Her silky perfect voice rising and falling as she talks with her entire upper body, occasionally running through her hair to fake annoyance.

"Stop staring at me." She threatens, as a smirk slowly appears later on, pay back time I guess.

Now that she is older and of a higher rank, she has a little more freedom to choose her work hours.

She loves loves watching movies or tv shows with you.

Appreciation for the arts, she has a few oil paintings around the condo.

A little predictable, but she is not a fan of romance or emotional movies, the latter makes her feel, and besides her love for you, it has been long since she has entered those territories.

She is the same with movies that depict war, extreme violence etc.

She does not mind sci-fi movies though, it keeps her thinking and intrigued, both of you mumbling, whispering constant questions to each other.

"Baby it's my first time watching this too" She reminded you with her eyes fixed on that screen, pulling you closer as she rubbed your arms.

Your head now rested against the side of her breasts, eyes threatening to close with that comfort.

She slides her hand towards your panties and presses it teasingly before resting it there, as an attempt to keep you awake.

"Jill..."

"Focus."

She carries you to her bedroom although you insisted on heading to the washroom first.

Heat gathered in your core from all that touching.

She has to have supper before sleeping.

She needs your shorts and bra off, always.

"It's not good for your health. You need to let them breathe."

Sometimes, she insists on sleeping naked although you always complain about how cold it gets in the middle of the night.

"You'll regret it when I am gone one da-"

"Really Jill."

She loves to hold you in her sleep, whether it's your stomach, breasts, thighs, your pussy.

You try to push her hand away when it's the last because it's not the best feeling when she's dead asleep and you're up horny as fuck.

Her hand will be back on it a few minutes later.

Blackout curtains are a must. She hates waking up to the sun shining in her eyes, and so do you.

She is used to waking up at odd hours, but she has always been someone who wakes up late.

Now that she has the time, she makes sure to wake up a little earlier than you.

Even when she's sleepy, she sometimes forces herself to stay awake just to watch you for a little longer.

Playing with your soft hair and brushing her fingers over your lips, placing soft pecks on your lips and nose, feeling the fullness of her heart in that moment, silently thanking whatever's out there for giving her to you.

You also love doing the same. You hate to miss out on this beauty. So peaceful as she sleeps, strands of brown hair resting across her thick eyelashes, cheeks rosy from all that rest she so deserves, silently praying to whatever's out there that she gets to keep this rosiness, this peace, for the rest of her life.

#jill valentine #resident evil 3 remake #resident evil death island #resident evil #jill valentine x reader #jill valentine x fem reader #resident evil x reader #i love jill valentine #jill valentine fluff

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fictionadventurer · 4 months ago

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Remaining Thoughts About Jane Eyre:

Diana may be the best character. Love Diana. Maybe the best-adjusted person in this story. When she responds to Jane's refusal to marry St. John with, "You're absolutely right, girl." So good. Not used to that level of sanity here.

St. John fascinates me. He's a foil to Rochester and Jane, but also similar to them in ways that he doesn't see. He's all about suppressing personal attachments and emotion, so you'd think he doesn't care about others' opinions, and yet, all his ambition is because he wants to be something the world considers great. He says himself he wanted to be some great statesman or lawyer or whatever--missionary's just the path he chose since he was already a clergyman. The religion is secondary at best--at worst, he values it because it's a means of power over people. His religion is all about duty--it's not a relationship. His inability to relate to people as anything other than a tool for his own glorification extends to his approach to God.

Also, the fact that Jane sees this, yet still insists he's a good man...I'm not onboard. He probably means well, may well be doing his best, but there's an insidious underlayer to everything that undermines it. He's kind of the definition of Eliot's, "This last temptation is the greatest treason/Doing the right thing for the wrong reason."

I'm still sad that he's dying in India, though. He should come back home disabled just like Rochester, and gets to learn some humility by needing help from other people.

Pretty darn convenient that Jane's prayer to know what to do gets answered immediately via miraculous means in the middle of her conversation with St. John. It's a good thing Jane's got God looking out for her, because she wouldn't have done anything in this story without miraculous guidance.

It's such overt author interference--so easy and simple--that it's hard for me to buy into a Providence reading. Wilkie Collins did it better in No Name.

I did love how Providence brought Jane to her family. It should have felt so cheap that she just happened to run into her only remaining cousins, but the fact that running away from the sinful romantic love of Rochester allowed her to know the love of a family--that got to me.

Okay, anyway, back on track.

Jane coming back to Rochester and immediately assuming they're going to get married now feels uncomfortably like, "Oh, good, now that your wife's dead, we can get married now." Like the only issue between them was the existence of his wife and not his incredibly toxic behaviors and history.

Curayl did this much better. Recognized that the convenient death of a spouse makes it awkward to pursue another relationship.

Also, Rochester's character development isn't complete enough. Like, Rochester's humbled, he recognizes that God was punishing him, but I get the vibe that he feels like it was only for the attempted bigamy and not for all the other things he did wrong.

No one calls him out for how horribly he treated Jane. No one calls him out for the mistresses--maybe they did mention it and I'm forgetting. There's a lot of bad stuff they gloss over because they love each other and they're perfect for each other, so of course they should be together.

I do like how Rochester called Jane out for just leaving with no money and letting her know that she could have asked for help.

I like how they handled Rochester's blindness. His eyesight gets better over time, so he's not completely helpless, but it's not like it's a miraculous cure. Nice way to have a happy ending while maintaining some realism.

"A good English education cured Adele's French defects" may be one of the worst lines in the book. I still feel like I'd rather have Adele's story. (You especially have to wonder how she feels about the about-fifteen-ish-years-younger "brother" showing up.)

I really worry about how Jane and Rochester are going to raise children. Their attitude toward Adele doesn't give me much hope that they're going to be affectionate parents.

For all my issues with it, the book did work much better than I expected it to going in. I'm glad I reread.

#jane-u-eyre-y #jane eyre #charlotte bronte #the trouble with letting this sit for two days is that you lose a lot of thoughts #i had much more coherent points about st. john for example #a rambly bullet point list was my only option here and i'm sure i'm missing some nuance and details

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dragon-susceptible · 2 months ago

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TDP Rewatch S2 E3: Smoke and Mirrors

Rayla got the intro voice this time! My girl!

I had actually forgotten that Callum lost Harrow's letter and only gets it back from Claudia.

Rayla not telling the boys their father is dead is honestly a plot line I kind of love? Because she was wrong. Because they let her be wrong. It's fair of Callum to be angry with her. But you also get why she did it, too, because how does a child her age tell another child that her father killed his? And she tried and failed. Also, Callum handles it with such startling maturity, because even though he's upset, he just tells her he can't talk right now, and he's focused less on the lie and more on how he's going to break the news to Ezran - which leads him into understanding why she couldn't tell him.

I love Soren so, so much. He sees his little sister crying and is immediately ready to go after Callum for that alone, to go after whoever or whatever she wants. "I'm always here for you, to punch someone or . . . whatever you need." He cares about her so fucking much, and I just. The older sibling feels just fucking hit with him, because I get it. I get what it's like being the older sibling trying so hard to protect the younger one and then watching them slip down a darker and darker path while there's nothing you can do about it. I just . . . I'm sorry, Soren. You didn't deserve this.

Callum is also such a good big brother, listening to Ezran talk about his dreams. Saying he's really proud of him. These poor kids deserve so much better than they got.

It really says something about how Callum's mindset is already shifting that when he reassures Ezran he has support, he mentions Rayla and Bait, but not Soren and Claudia.

"Ezran, you're a handful!" nearly made me cry, goodness. I understand why Callum's looking at the kid like that when it cuts back to him. Callum must have heard Harrow say that a hundred times, and just saw him in Ezran imitating it, saw how the mannerisms mirror and carry on even though Harrow's gone and god now I'm actually crying.

I love Callum and Rayla's bonding moment over it. And it just - it really says something about Callum and his trust in Rayla compared to the other two that he went to her to talk about it. He went to her, and sympathized with her, and it was her shoulder he chose to cry on.

I do really wonder what the rest of Aaravos' prison looks like. We only really see that one room, but he enters and leaves it through a door we can see from the mirror. So where does he go?

Soren's reaction to being told off and getting mad about it is really interesting to contrast with his father's. When Amaya pisses Viren off, he strikes out at Gren. When Claudia pisses Soren off, he walks away - he does strike a tree out of frustration afterward, and end up fending off a swarm of moths for it, but we can't expect a child to be raised by someone and not learn anything from them. So Soren's grown up around a man who reacts to frustration with physical violence. That's how he's been taught to react. But when Viren does it, he strikes at people, and when Soren does it, he strikes at objects. I like that we can see how Viren influenced Soren and also how they're fundamentally different people at their core in that.

It makes perfect sense, because Callum is a teenager with a crush so of course he's not examining it too closely, but honestly, super should have been a red flag that Claudia and Soren were so insistent that the boys come home only to just be like oh okay, let's go then!!

I absolutely love the illusion/trick plan, especially with some of the stuff we see referenced in Arc 2. Rayla learned this kind of trickery from Runaan.

Lujanne blandly mentions them "desecrating this sacred place these past few days", and I can't help but notice that Rayla kind of sheepishly winces, and Soren keeps exercising but his eyes drop to the ground, but Claudia just raises an eyebrow and doesn't stop smiling. She really just doesn't care that this is a sacred site.

I think that Lujanne is also lying through her teeth a bit about how much support Ava's illusory leg gives her. If she can imitate the texture and sensation of food, and her illusions change the shape of the world around them, it seems to me that an illusion held by a substance like Ava's collar is more like a hard light projection from Star Trek than just a mirage. Ava carrying around a whole child on her back without particularly limping while missing a leg doesnt quite make sense otherwise.

Soren "I'm just a nice guy and people get the wrong idea sometimes" makes me smile and also feel sorry for the poor guy at the same time. So this has actually happened to him, huh? Where he was just genuinely nice to someone because it's in his nature to be nice, but he's actually had to turn on them later? That has to suck.

"You don't speak sarcasm so good, do you?" "No I do not." But also his smile just drops after he says that, and I just have to gesture wildly at Every Goddamn Conversation He's Had With His Father Until Now. He absolutely does understand sarcasm. He's very good at it, actually. Rayla was just hitting him in the vulnerabilities.

You know, Rex Igneous mentions in Arc 2 that Avizandum would intentionally antagonize humans at the border to go after them. I wonder if that applied to Aaravos' prison too. Did Avizandum also sit at the mirror and taunt the imprisoned fallen star? What has Aaravos been thinking since he stopped getting that visitor, and what was going through his head when he finally saw someone again and it was a human in a dark room - a human with a touch of Dark Magic. A human that wields Ziard's staff. How interesting.

I also don't believe for a second that Aaravos didn't see him that first time.

Oh yeah so the illusions being semi solid does have support, I forgot, the illusions of Callum and Ezran were solid enough to hold up Claudia's chains, so Ava's leg is also probably solid.

I love Ellis howling with her wolf, it's so fucking cute.

Soren does go after Ellis and Ava with his sword, but to me it kind of reads the same way as when Runaan went after Rayla. Like yes, he's doing it, it's what he's supposed to do, as far as Soren knows this girl helped kidnap his charges, but we've seen him be more effective than this and he's just not doing it now.

I wonder how long Corvus has been watching from the shadows to realize that Soren and Claudia are more of a danger to the princes than Rayla is. Also, for real this man keeps getting so many head wounds, someone get him a helmet, jesus christ. The hair of Arc 1 is truly iconic, yes, but it shouldn't come at the price of a TBI.

Ellis calling out to them telling them not to forget her stings a bit given we never really see her again. I'm a tad salty about it.

What is everyone else thinking about where Lord Viren is right now? He's just been holed up in his personal dungeon staring into a mirror for like two days at least.

Yk, when I first watched this show, I was a Gren/Corvus shipper, actually. But I get where Sorvus started, I really do. This pretty hunter just being tossed around so easily by the guardsman definitely has a vibe to it. Soren really just manhandles this dude like he weighs nothing. And then gags him.

"I hate the moon!" - Soren, circa 2019, and also Markiplier, circa 2022

It's adorable that Zym is a bit scared of heights at first, as a storm dragon.

I really love how fond Rayla is of the younger kids. With what we learn about Moonshadow elves and their child-rearing in Bloodmoon Huntress and Season 7, and how communal it is, and how she's largely treated as an adult by her society as a whole (Runaan's self-deprecating scoff at her being a child aside), it makes me wonder if she's already taken rotations looking after Mooncubs before. She's also good with kids, and obviously enjoys looking after them.

It's been said before but yeah, I do think this is the moment where Callum lets go of his crush on Claudia. I don't know if his crush on Rayla starts immediately, but I think this moment, going so abruptly from Claudia attacking them and spending all that time ignoring Ezran, to seeing Rayla actually engage with and be soft with his brother, made him realize that Claudia doesn't care about the same things as he does, and that it's possible to find someone that does.

#the dragon prince #tdp rewatch #tdp s7 spoilers #tdp callum #tdp rayla #tdp ezran #tdp claudia #tdp soren #tdp lujanne #tdp viren #tdp aaravos #tdp season 2

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undercroft-files · 1 year ago

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Recovery

Gif not mine

Various HL Characters & MC

Genre: Scenarios

Summary: After MC's daring solo fight with Ranrok and doing whatever they chose to do with the stored ancient magic, they were admitted into the hospital wing by some of the professors that found them. The nurse just now started allowing visitors, how do they all react?

Characters: Natsai Onai, Sebastian Sallow, Poppy Sweeting, Ominis Gaunt, Amit Thakkar, Eleazar Fig

Warnings: Mentions of cuts, bruises, and bandages but nothing out of place.

Natsai Onai

Once she heard about you being in the hospital wing and knowing you were allowed one visitor at a time, Natty didn't waste a second in seeing you. She knew about Ranrok and the ancient magic but a whole battle against Rankrok alone under Hogwarts definitely didn't sound pleasant.

The hospital wing was quiet, no one else seemed to be there at the time other than you. Natty immediately came to your side and hugged you, catching you off guard.

"I am so happy you are okay!" Natty exclaimed, clutching you around your waist.

"Ow...!" You grunted, your voice was hoarse and gravely from overuse.

"Oh! I apologize! Did I accidentally harm you?" Natty asked, becoming aware of her own strength and letting you go.

"You're okay, Natty. Thank you for coming to visit me." You said, your voice cracking a little from it being hoarse.

"Of course, MC. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't make sure they were okay after what I heard you went through." Natty admitted, pulling one of the visitor's chairs closer to your bed and sitting down on it.

"Ah, so you know." You chuckled, a weak smile on your face.

"How could I not? Most people assumed you were expelled but I knew Black wouldn't actually do that after all the trouble he went through just to get you here." Natty said, hinting to the spreading rumors about you.

"Huh, you got a point..." You replied, your voice cracking again.

"You sound tired, why don't you get some more rest?" Natty offered, pulling some of your covers up for you.

"And miss out on seeing my friend when I need her most?" You replied, smiling at Natty.

"Trust me, MC. You will not be missing out on anything because I will remain here until I'm told otherwise. Get some rest, you deserve it." Natty almost commanded, helping you shift into a comfortable position for you to sleep.

Sebastian Sallow

He didn't even wait from word about where you were after the events of the goblin attack were confirmed, he just bolted to the hospital wing. Sebastian had a lot on his mind since you last talked to him, the events between him and what was left of his family shattering and you stayed by him, despite when he got difficult. He needed to talk to you.

The nurse almost didn't let him enter but you called out and told her that it was okay. Sebastian gave one final glare to the nurse before he rushed to your side, grabbing your hands and holding them in a comforting way.

"Are you okay? You look absolutely terrible." Sebastian stated, looking over all the markings of your face and arms.

"Well, I've definitely been better." You joked, smiling a little.

"You should've told me. I could've helped you." Sebastian said, sitting on the bed by your legs but never letting go of your hands.

"No, Sebastian. It would've been useless. Professor Fig was with me but I told him to leave because it was too dangerous for him, I would've told you the same if you were there. Besides, you had your own things to worry about—"

"No, no, no, don't say that. You've done so much for me this year that most people wouldn't have been able to accomplish in a single year, the least I could've done was protect you." Sebastian said, his grip slightly getting tighter but not overbearing.

"I'm fine, really." You tried to push away his concerns but he insisted.

"Fine? MC, have you looked at yourself? Your arms are covered in bandages, you basically look like a mummy! If that's your definition of 'Fine' then I'm deeply concerned for you." Sebastian confronted, causing you to give me a pitiful smile.

"I'm sorry, Sebastian. I just didn't want anymore trouble nor did I want to risk losing someone I care about." You admitted, giving a small smile.

"I forgive you, just promise me next year won't be as dangerous as this one? I appreciate adventure, but not death wishes." Sebastian joked, causing you to laugh a bit.

Poppy Sweeting

"MC! Are you okay?!" Poppy greeted, rushing to your side at the hospital wing.

"Yeah, just a bit bruised." You admitted, smiling to Poppy.

"Don't ever do that again! From now on, I'm gonna make sure Highwing always has her eyes on you because you're just so... so—reckless!" Poppy exclaimed, her worries and care pouring out like word vomit.

Poppy had more to say but you didn't want to interrupt her in her worried rants, so you just listened with a smile on your face. She finished with an exaggerated sigh, her lungs trapping a bit of air at the beginning of her rant that needed to be let out.

"Feel better now?" You joked, seeing her calm down.

"A bit, I'll be way better once you're well enough to leave the hospital wing." Poppy admitted, sighing a little.

"Couldn't agree more." You stated, smiling brightly.

Ominis Gaunt

Word about the goblin attack spread through the school and surrounding areas like wildfire, everyone's talked about it at least once. Ominis knew you had some quarrels with a goblin named Ranrok and knew the dangers that came with it and he didn't question that you played a major part in defending Hogwarts.

Sebastian was the one to inform Ominis about you being in the hospital wing but that you hadn't woken up yet, so it felt only right to check on you, even if you didn't know he was there.

Ominis used Floo Powder to get to the hospital wing to make travel easier and located you from his wand, still unconscious. He sighed a little before sitting down in a nearby chair, waiting for either you to wake up or for the nurse to tell him it was time to go.

He wished you stayed mostly out of trouble when you got here or at least only worried about the goblin issues, sensing the bandages on you made Ominis have the feeling that if him and Sebastian had been more reckless when you helped them that this would've happened sooner.

Ominis heard you shuffle a little in your bed and tensed up a bit, trying to hear if you were awake or not.

"Ominis...?" You asked, answering his question.

"Hi," Ominis paused, not really knowing what to say. "How do you feel?"

"Like I just got attacked by a magical dragon." You chuckled, causing Ominis to give you a more concerning look than he already had. "Sorry..."

"Don't apologize, you did what you had to do." Ominis paused again, he's not used to comforting people or being comforted so he really didn't know what to say. He gently found your hand and held it. "I'm just glad you made it out alive."

You smiled, Ominis had always been nice to you unless he was upset but somehow managed to forgive you easily. You know you and Ominis got off on a lot of wrong starts but tried to make it up whenever you could, like if you saw his struggling in potions, you'd help him.

"Thank you, Ominis." You said with a smile, gently squeezing his hand.

Ominis smiled, "Just promise to not get into as much trouble in the future, you got lucky this time, I wouldn't test it again."

You chuckled, agreeing with him.

Amit Thakkar

He was anxious all morning during breakfast because he had heard of what to you the night prior, he wanted to see you but knew it wasn't worth the risk of getting caught when he didn't want to be. Finally, after leaving the Great Hall, he hurried to the hospital wing to find you quietly eating something yourself.

"Oh, hello Amit." You greeted, seeing him approach you.

"MC, what happened? Are you okay?" Amit asked, sitting down in a chair next to your bed.

"Well, goblins happened. Hopefully, I gave them enough of a scare that they decide to never mess around with Hogwarts again, and yes, I'm okay." You explained, smiling a bit.

"I've been so worried since I heard about the rumors of the goblin attack. I knew you were trying to keep them from whatever they were looking for but I was hoping they were just rumors." Amit admitted, sighing a little.

"Honestly, I'd have wished the same thing. It's over now, though. There will still be a nasty goblin here and there but they seem like a pesky bug now after I fought Ranrok." You joked, smiling to Amit.

Amit chuckled, finding a weird sense of admiration from your bravery. "I guess fighting a goblin who had been using wizard magic makes everything else seem like an assignment for school." Amit agreed, smiling back at you.

He decided to stay as long as he could with you as good company, some of your other friends came to visit and bring you gifts but he never left.

Eleazar Fig

He had been the one that carried your unconscious body to the hospital wing after you collapse from the powerful fight Ranrok gave you and from keeping that ancient magic from branching out where it doesn't belong. You had told him to run to safety after Ranrok destroyed the crate the magic was concealed in, he hated the idea of leaving a student he cared for in the jaws of potential death but he had no other choice.

He helped the other professors fight the goblins that came before rushing back to check on you, finding Ranrok dead, the magic concealed once more, and your body motionless on the ground. He expected the worst but didn't give up hope, he knew you could pull through.

After the nurse patched up your wounds and gave you a bed to rest in, Fig spent all his time by your side. He had a few cuts and bruises on himself that he got taken care of as well but never left you out of his sight for too long, not wanting to miss when you woke up again.

Hours passed, maybe even a full day passed before you slowly opened your eyes. Fig's attention was brought back to reality when he heard you sigh and saw your hand instinctively rub your eye.

"Professor...?" You asked, your voice raspy from the battle.

"I'm here, it's alright. You're in the hospital wing, Ranrok is dead, and the ancient magic has been concealed. You've done it." Fig smiled, gently taking the hand you weren't using and holding it.

"How long...?" You began but trailed off, finding it hard to use your words.

"You haven't been out long. Maybe a day, but I was expecting you to be resting longer." Fig admitted, gently brushing his thumb over your knuckles.

You hummed in response, letting Fig know you heard him. Words became something nearly impossible for you to use as tiredness and the weight of your body needing healing overpowered you.

"Rest, MC. Merlin knows you deserve it after all you've done." Fig said, seeing how exhausted you still were.

You nodded before letting yourself drift off into a peaceful slumber, the most peaceful you've had in a long time. Fig smiled before he leaned back in the chair he was sitting on, thinking to himself, 'I could use some shut eye too.'

#hogwarts legacy #natsai onai #sebastian sallow #poppy sweeting #ominis gaunt #amit thakkar #professor fig #eleazar fig

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queerocfandomer · 28 days ago

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Love Settles as SHIELD Falls

Chapter 8 / Epilogue "My Love"

Find on A03 HERE :)

Within two weeks, you had your affairs in order. The suitcases were already loaded in the vehicle as you parted ways with Fury, Rogers, and Wilson at the graveyard. Although you now only had to contend with a walking boot, Natasha still insisted on driving. You had decided to take your time and spread the trip across two days.

Transitioning your conversations from their base in coyness to honesty was proving about as difficult as you had expected. Natasha truly was trying; she had told you more about her past in the last week than in all the years before.

It was hard to describe how different it felt; you had never had a hard time speaking to each other, conversation always flowed easily. Yet, this was different—it was deeper, more serious. The worry of being too upfront or revealing something too personal was diminished, and it felt as though that small change was already bringing you closer together. Actually, talking about your relationship and your feelings, however, was still the most difficult topic to broach for both of you.

It was early afternoon, and you were just finishing pumping gas, with Natasha inside paying when your phone lit up with a notification for a new text group labeled “Home Invaders.”

Clint- You going to make it here for dinner or what?-

Nat- Depends on when dinner is for you old man-

Rip- and on who’s cooking said dinner-

Nat- definitely that.-

Clint- I forgot how extra annoying the two of your are together-

Laura- all of you are annoying-

Rip- hey now he started it! ETA is 4 hours. -

Natasha rejoined you in the car, passing you a drink as she started back on the road. You processed a few more texts while she drove, Laura asking you to stop and pick up a few things on the way. After sorting out the details, you put the phone down and turned your attention back to Natasha. After a few minutes, she cleared her throat slightly and spoke.

“So we haven't talked about how open we are going to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” She shot you a stern look as she spoke but then blushed slightly when she saw you grinning widely at her.

“You are very cute when you get a little flustered, FYI.”

“I don’t get flustered.”

“Sure, sure.”

The familiar look of lovable irritation crossed her face as you continued.

“We can continue to keep it strictly professional. We don’t have to change how we have always interacted if you don’t want to.”

“I’m not ashamed of you.”

“I don’t think you are, belle. But still... good to know.”

You smiled as you reached out toward her hand. She accepted the invitation and removed it from the steering wheel, allowing you to take it into your lap as you continued.

“I'm not ashamed either, to be clear; I didn’t mean it like that. I would certainly prefer not to pull away when someone else is around, to just touch you when I want to or hold your hand and all that cheesy stuff, but I also don’t mind putting up limits. It’s not like I don't get to be with you like this in private, and I admittedly kind of enjoy that you’re so different when we are alone. I just meant that I’m honestly fine with whatever makes you most comfortable.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure I know what I’m comfortable with.”

“And that’s okay, reasonable even. Plus, I mean, that’s why we chose to come here, right? Sure, it’s a good place to lay low for a while and work out some logistics, but they are also our best friends. They have always been a safe place to just be, and it can probably be that for this too. A good place to figure a lot of it out; without too many eyes on us.”

“Clint is going to be an absolute pain in the ass about it.”

“Oh, certainly. But don't count Laura out either. She is likely to be very smug.”

“Oh?”

“Almost guaranteed. She has been making fun of me about this for literal years. So yeah, I have no doubt that she connected the dots from the moment we contacted them.”

“Oh. I see. Kind of reasonable, I guess. I mean, you were not always the best at being subtle.”

“I’ll have you know I am a very successful undercover agent, which most would say requires much subtlety. She just knows me really well, that's all.”

“Yeah. Sure, sure.”

The remainder of the drive went fairly quickly, and you shared some of the times Laura had cornered you in the past. You had, in fact, arrived just in time for dinner. The kids were excited to see you both, and specifically, Lila had exclaimed “at the same time,” for which you realized she was correct.

Over the years, you had both visited on a fairly regular basis and yet rarely at the same time, and if you were honest, most of the time that had been on purpose. Cooper was adamant that he had greatly improved his baseball skills and was excited to show you. After a couple of hours of them updating you both about all of the intricacies of 10- and 11-year-old life, they were off to bed. You were assisting Clint with the dishes when Laura returned. Standing beside Natasha at the table, she chided,

“Okay, you two…”

You turned to face them, tea towel still in hand, and stole a quick glance at Natasha before Laura continued snidely,

“Do I need to go prepare the second guest room, or are you finally going to admit that this slow burn romance thing is happening?”

You rolled your eyes and gave her an irritated stare as you responded,

“I told you she was gunna be smug.”

Clint, now standing beside you and facing Natasha, looking at each other as she responded plainly,

“The one room will be fine, thank you.”

Clint's eyebrow raised as Natasha took a sip of water before placing her cup back on the table. You couldn't help it as the smile tugged at your lips, your eyes still on Laura as she smiled and turned to Clint.

“All the laundry for a week.”

You scoffed, and Natasha raised an eyebrow, both looking to Clint who raised his hands and responded,

“Sharing a room is not the same as admitting it's happening.”

You and Natasha’s eyes flickered to each other for just a second before speaking in unison as you threw your towel in his face,

“Fine; It's happening.”

Slowly over the week, you had become more comfortable, allowing yourselves to interact more naturally instead of constantly monitoring your closeness. The four of you discussed the details of SHIELD's fall, the congressional hearings you had attended in the days before coming, and what the future may hold for you all. You had even survived watching the kids after insisting that Laura and Clint take advantage of your presence to go on a weekend getaway. The two of you would head into town every so often for a meal or a random activity; you even attended the local chamber symphony once.

Not much had really changed when it came to your feelings about Natasha; however, there was a shift in how you allowed them to manifest. It hadn't taken you long to realize just how much you had been avoiding, trying to push down, and minimize, and you could tell Natasha was feeling the same. It was the subtle differences that you noticed the most, as the apprehension that had been almost constant in your previous interactions diminished, and you simply became comfortable existing around each other, with each other.

You had easily convinced Natasha to come out and watch the sunset with you one evening. Sitting on a blanket atop a small hill about a quarter mile from the house, she held your hand in her lap while your head rested on her shoulder. You felt your heart starting to beat faster as you moved your head, placing a small kiss on her neck before speaking softly,

"Thank you."

"For what, dorogoy?"

You turned to face each other, the sparkle in her eyes immediately lighting up your face.

"For letting me in. I know it's not easy."

She looked down for a quick second before returning her eyes to yours and moving her hand to rest at the front of your neck as she spoke.

"It's not, but you are more than worth it."

You moved your hand up, trailing your thumb across her bottom lip before settling on her cheek.

"Je ne peux pas penser à quoi que ce soit que j'aurais pu faire pour te mériter" (I can't think of anything I could possibly have ever done to deserve you).

"Je pourrais dire exactement la même chose" (I could say the exact same thing).

"You deserve the world."

You leaned towards her, and the tenderness of the kiss consumed your every thought. You both had a hand firmly gripping the other's neck, your fingers running along her scalp as she moved her other hand up your bicep. You suddenly snapped out of the moment as you heard Clint's voice,

"Are they making out over there?"

Pulling away and resting your forehead on hers, a sound of amusement escaped your mouth as you heard Laura's reply telling him to be quiet. Natasha pulled away slightly with a look of confusion, and you looked towards the house, seeing the couple standing on the porch. Clint responded,

"They probably can't hear me from over there anyways."

Upon realizing what must have happened, Natasha let out a sigh of her own and removed her hand from your arm, holding it up above her head with her finger raised, causing both you and Laura to let out a laugh as Clint responded,

"Or you can—okay, okay, I'm going."

You saw his arms raised in surrender as they turned to go back into the house.

You move in to place another brief kiss before asking her to help you up. After tucking her hair back behind her ear, you rest your hands on her hips as you bring her into another kiss. She wraps her arms around your shoulders, and as you pull apart, her wrists rest against you. Your fingers trail the hem of her shirt while hers trace circles on the back of your neck.

“Nat, I, uh, I don’t really know how to describe how it feels to finally just ... be with you; we’ve been doing this dance for a long time, and in the last few weeks, I’ve realized that I spent a lot of that time just trying to push it all down. To deny the seriousness of it, the feelings, the want, the need. And I just... I”

You take a deep breath as the thoughts swirl in your head, and she speaks before you can continue.

“I know,” she smiles. “It’s different. It, umm, it’s a lot. I’m sure you know I was avoiding, well, pretty much everything really, and I’m glad. To not be anymore.”

“Natasha,”

you begin as you move your right hand to her face, gliding it across her cheek before pulling her in for a brief kiss. You pull away just enough to look into her eyes again, smile, and find your head nodding as you bite your bottom lip slightly before continuing,

“I love you.”

Her mouth opens and closes without sound, and her head shakes slightly before she asks,

“You do?”

“I really do.”

You pull her back into you, both smiling into the firm kiss, but it’s only a couple of seconds before she pulls away suddenly, a confused look on your face as she brings both her hands up and holds your jaw.

“I love you too.”

Your confusion turns to a smile, but still, you find yourself looking down. Yet, she wastes no time pulling your chin back up to her.

“I’m not just saying it because you did, Ripley. It, ah, it kinda scares the shit out of me, but I do. I love you.”

You smile and move closer, connecting firmly again as you both pour the emotion of the moment into each other. Your hand roams up her back while she grips your hip tightly. There is no space left between you, neither physically nor emotionally. You pull apart for air and study each other's faces as the light of the sun fades over the horizon.

“Mon Amour”

“Lyubov Moya”

(my love)

#fanfic #slash fanfiction #queer #fan fiction #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #shield agents #x gn reader #a03 fanfic

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gosmigenergy · 1 year ago

Text

DRINK AROUND THE WORLD

( Triple Frontier Boys x F!Reader )

Summary: After the boys promised to take you to Disney, you and Benny take on the challenge of drinking around the world.

Warnings: Mentions of Food, Mentions of Drink, Alcohol Consumption, Intoxication, Crying, Language, Nickname/Pet Names, No use of Y/N

Rating: Fluff

Word Count: 5.9k

Author’s Notes: Hi, so this felt like it took me forever to write for such a short fic but honestly there’s been some crazy stuff irl, including a family member’s health, that knocked me for six. In the end, I just wanted something wholesome, maybe a little bit silly featuring the boys to make me feel better. Also I’m an absolute lightweight when it comes to drinking so surviving eleven drinks is witchcraft to me! (Also apologies if anyone sees this without a Read More click, my head is a sieve atm...)

“Can we start yet?”

You and the boys had been in the park for what feels like a lifetime. Arriving at Epcot early, they insisted on getting on the Guardians of the Galaxy ride before it got too busy, even though it went backwards and you didn’t want to go on it if it went in reverse. Then you wandered aimlessly for a ‘look around’ and yes, the topiaries shaped like characters and other spectacular creations were beautiful to look at but everyone knew why they were really here.

Santiago arched one brow, “You still want to do this, honey?”

You were giddy, the literal manifestation of a kid in Disney World but it wasn’t because you were in line to meet the princesses or about to embark Journey Into Imagination with Figment.

Sighing, he looked at his watch.

He watched the hands change to 1 o’clock exactly and glanced over to Will, who nodded in return.

Santiago pointed a finger at Benny then you then back to Benny.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

Benny nods, his smile widening as he grabs you by the wrist and drags you away. You smile so innocently at Santiago that it pulls at his heartstrings, there was no way in hell you were ready for this.

“You remember your roles?”

He queries Will and Frankie when you’re out of ear shot. How could they forget when Santiago pulled them to one side on the way back to the room last night? They sat by the pool area as he rolled out instructions with military precision. He wanted everyone to have fun, sure, but this was you and there was a strong probability this could go wrong.

“She’ll be fine, Pope, Benny knows her limits.”

“How many drinks has Bunny had in front of us?”

Will’s brows furrowed, the sudden realisation that he’s seen you drink three, maybe four, enough to make you giggly. This was going to be eleven in a row if you make it that far and his brother’s an encourager.

Frankie shrugs, “You make it sound like you’ve never inflicted her with anything.”

“Alcohol is different to that Aphrodite shit, we know that,” Santiago retorted.

“She’ll be fine, brother.”

Will was assuring himself more than Santiago, especially when he saw you and Benny returning with your first drinks.

“What is that?”

“Whatever she ordered,” Benny retorted to Santiago.

Frankie watched as you took the first sip and your expression scrunched.

“Don’t drink it if you don’t like it.”

“It’s not that, it’s just really strong.”

He thrusts out a hand and you pass it to him. Pursing his lips, he takes a sip before delivering a wheezy laugh.

“Jesus Christ.”

Rather than going for the variety of beer on offer, you decided to follow a list you found online. The cocktail you chose was mostly whisky and you’re pretty sure the tender gave you a little extra.

You giggle as he gives it back. Your eye flit to Benny as he tilts his head back to down his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as the liquid goes down with ease.

“Don’t you dare.”

You blink at Santiago whose eyes are barely visible behind his sunglasses, however you could picture them perfectly.

“I wasn’t going to,” you say shyly, eyes breaking away.

Rule one was not to try and keep up with Benny.

Before he was a fighter, he had a reputation for being the last one standing at the bar, you would never keep up. The last time he gave you a shot, you immediately grabbed Will and insisted you needed to go home.

Benny finished his drink, “Where to next?”

“I thought we could just follow the route, seems easier.”

Frankie unfurls the map from his pocket, his slopping nose almost in the paper to hide his concern.

“Where are you thinking about getting food?”

“America.”

The noise Frankie made doesn’t make Santiago feel confident, he wonders what was in that cocktail, whether he should have made a rule about not mixing alcohol but that wouldn’t have been fair.

“Wait, where’d they go?”

Will was finishing the end of your drink, “They’re already off to the UK.”

“These two are gonna be the death of me.”

Benny and you were already lined up against the bar when the rest of them caught up.

“I’m not sure you’ll like this one.”

“Why?”

“Have you ever had Guinness before?”

“Once, maybe,” you sounded so unsure.

“Cider?”

“Of course I’ve had cider, Benny, your mum served it to us warm, remember?”

He shook his head, “That’s not the same.”

The bartender slipped over two pints with frothy tops and an almost black liquid that turned golden at the bottom. Benny paid and carried them both to the table that Will had managed to snag in the corner.

You and Benny cheered, clunking the plastic glasses together before taking a drink. You barely swallow before you gag. Frankie stifled a laugh behind his hand, body shaking as Will began to crack.

In France, the five of you sat on the wrought-iron tables by the water, Frankie and Will joining you in having an Orange Slush. Santiago snuck away, reappearing with a croissant, just a little something to keep you going, he said.

He did however join you for a drink in Morocco, where the Iced Mint Tea came with a refreshing, surprising punch. He knew you were getting tipsy, your eyelids were getting heavier, your voice rising a couple of decibels and though your fake boyfriend was Benny, your hands were over all of them.

Frankie discreetly sipped your drink when your back was turned or when Will distracted you.

“She’s doing great,” Benny elbowed Santiago.

“You’re only four drinks in,” he responds flatly. “We’ll see how she’s fairing after number five.”

Drink number five took a while to get to, your fuzzy mind easily succumbing to the attaching store with Japanese merchandise.

“Please can we go in?”

Your eyes became wide and puppy like, your eyelashes fluttering until one of them caved.

“Come on then, sweetheart…”

You squealed, bouncing on your toes as Will stepped forward. You grabbed his hand, entwining your fingers with his without a care in the world. He simply leaned into it, not caring about the possibility of someone seeing you with him instead of his brother.

“You want a new plushie?”

Your lips skew, “It depends what they have.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something.”

Santiago hoped the shopping trip would be enough for you to get the tiniest bit sober.

Inside, your concentration was short, everything was distracting. You’d jumped from Hello Kitty to Pokemon to Studio Ghibli, from kimonos to tea to candles without making a decision.

“Do you think Santiago would do a face mask?”

Will found you in the beauty section, clinging onto five different types of face masks, inspecting the backs though the words were blurry at the edges.

“I’m sure he’d do one for you.”

Your sigh seems disheartened.

“What’s up, Bunny?”

“Is he mad with me?”

When you didn’t look round, he began to question whether your eyes had got glossy, tears threatening to fall.

“He’s not mad, just… concerned.”

You sigh again, “I want us all to have fun, not just me and Benny.”

He offers you the basket in his hand and you place the face mask carefully in before turning around. There was an understanding that he shared that he didn’t necessarily need to say aloud, Santiago wasn’t the best when plans went astray and he was doing his best to keep everything on track.

“And I know what he’s doing or you’re doing or maybe it’s all of you…”

Will cocks his head as he can see your brain trying to put two and two together, concentration plastered on your face.

“But tell Frankie to buy his own drinks.”

He laughs at your comment, “Anything else?”

“I can’t decide on a plushie.”

“Well, we could just get these and come back when you’re sober.”

You bite your bottom lip, “How bad am I?”

“Getting a little handsy,” he shrugs, it’s why he already put snacks in the basket for later.

Benny checked his phone for the time, you had been gone for almost half an hour and he could feel the chill coming from Santiago’s gaze.

“I’m gonna buy the drinks ready.”

“Make it non-alcoholic.”

“I’m not doing that, she wants to do the challenge, let her do the challenge.”

Santiago didn’t respond as he walked away. When doing your research, you showed Benny the drink you wanted, violet in colour with a light up ice cube and that’s what you were getting.

Frankie waved as he saw you and Will come out of the entrance. Seeing that Benny was missing, you scurry off to find him as Will went to join the others.

“That’s a pretty small bag,” Frankie tipped his head to the bag in Will’s hand.

“I said I’d take her back when she’s sober.”

“So, she knows she’s tipsy?”

“Uh-huh,” Will closes in on them both. “She also knows Frankie should be getting his own drinks.”

Santiago pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath that Will didn’t catch, he just knew he was pissed.

“I would actually like that,” Frankie quipped.

“Pope, we’ve dealt with so much more than a drunk girl at a theme park.”

He knew that, Santiago just didn’t like it.

But then he caught you out of the corner of his eye. Clutching a plastic cup, you were beaming at Benny who took your hand to ensure you weren’t led in the opposite direction. You were undeniably happy, dressed for the occasion with a pair of Minnie ears and a spring in your step.

This was the first mini vacation with all of them present and his stomach rolled with guilt at his behaviour.

“Wanna try?”

This was the deciding moment.

He leaned back at first before taking it from your hand. Taking a sip, the sugar hurt his teeth and with a grunt he clutched his jaw.

“Where’s the sake?”

“Oh, so now you want me to have alcohol!”

“As much as you like honey.”

You go to take back the drink except he leans further against the railing, head tipped up with a smug smile. Huffing, you fold your arms and scowl.

“Not until I have another sip.”

By the time you make it to the restaurant in America, you can’t think straight. You’re surrounded by brick walls with blue, red and white fabric handing from the ceiling, patriotic music playing under the hive of screaming kids and constant conversation.

There wasn’t much choice on the menu but your hands started to go clammy when you realised the words didn’t make any sense.

“Benny,” you call his name in a hushed tone, his head hung low like he’s almost fallen asleep. “What are you getting?”

“The burger.”

“Is that on the menu?”

He opens up his hands, “Is it really America if a burger isn’t on the menu?”

Was he always this cryptic?

Will passed his phone along for everyone to make their choices and as the phone got closer to you, you stiffen.

“Bunny,” Frankie waved the phone in front of you.

His lips are parted under his moustache and suddenly that’s all you can focus on, that bottom lip just waiting to be bitten. The knot between his eyebrows tightens and you suddenly realise you’re not talking even though he’s said your name, your actual name.

“Uuuu—“

“She can’t see the menu,” Benny leaned in from behind you, coming into Frankie’s periphery.

Your cheeks grow hot as you press your lips together so hard they disappear.

“I’ll just order what I think you’ll like.”

A plate was placed in front of you and you were grateful Frankie did the ordering because fries topped with macaroni cheese and onion rings would definitely soak up the alcohol churning in your stomach. You also drank water, waiting until you got outside to order a Frozen Mint Julep.

Though the food hadn’t helped as much as you’d prayed it would.

You found yourself pressed between Will and Santiago as you walk, the pair of them keeping you on track to Italy.

As Benny went to get your drink, you looked up at the looming columns, squinting to try and make out the statues at the top, fully believing they weren’t there earlier. A hand came swiftly to your waist, gripping tightly as a shoulder propped your head back.

“Don’t think I’ll be doing that again,” your tongue is loose, the words luckily sounding right.

“You almost lost your ears, Bunny.”

You gasp, “Thank you, Santi!”

It was a poor excuse, he’d admit it but he could see your back arching in such a perfect curve that you were seconds away from hitting the floor. He set the ears firmly back on your head as you gave him a lopsided grin.

Benny returned with another frozen drink for you.

“Another frozen one?”

“They’ve not all been frozen, there was that one you liked… and that other one. Wait, what number am I on?”

“Seven, cariño.”

“So, when are you lot having your next round?”

Benny wrapped his arm around his brother and his best friend, his cheeks pink yet a broad smile set on his face.

“Where are we going next?”

“Germany,” Santiago glanced over his shoulder, holding onto you as you slowly sucked on a straw. Your doe eyes moved from people watching, honing in on his jaw where his stubble was getting longer.

Oh, the urge to touch it.

“I could do with a beer,” Will said.

“Yes, brother!”

It was the point in the drinking marathon where Benny forgot his own strength. The pat on the back he gave Will took the wind out of him and Frankie was almost wrestled to the ground as Benny’s arms locked around his neck.

There was a possibility the five of you could get kicked out of the park. Santiago felt something irritating on his chin, distracting him from what was unfolding.

“You’re getting a beard,” you stroke a fingertip over it.

He hummed, “You like it?”

“I dunno,” you say, eyes narrowing.

Ducking his head, his mouth came to the shell of your ear and you heard the smirk form on his lips.

“You won’t be saying that when you feel it between your thighs.”

The words travel, sinking to the bottom of your belly and something breaks through the alcohol induced fog in your mind.

“Oh.”

“You ready, Bunny?”

Your head snaps round to Benny, his head cocking to one side when he sees your startled expression. Smiling, you slip from Santiago and hold Benny’s outstretched hand. Yet you take a second look, a fleeting glance because you knew you were in danger, not tonight but soon.

“What did you say to her?”

“Nothing, just discussing my beard.”

Frankie grunted, he hated how his friend could grow a beard far better than he ever could.

In Will’s hand was a half serving of grapefruit beer that appeared comically small in comparison to his full one.

“It should have a citrusy flavour,” he says.

The main thing you can taste is beer and you weren’t sure, after the cocktails and slushies this wasn’t the same.

“Chug, chug, chug.”

“Benny, stop it, Santiago told me not to.”

Benny stared at his leader, his green eyes pleading with him. There isn’t a word spoken between them, a series of gestures causing Santiago to cave.

“The rules went out the window three countries ago, honey.”

“And we all know you can swallow.”

Frankie choked, erupting into laughter as Will shook his head.

“Benny, you’re gonna end up in Disney Jail with that mouth.”

He scoffs, “The jail isn’t real.”

“It is!” You almost spill your drink with the sheer enthusiasm of how you slap his chest, “I’ve seen the stories online.”

“They wouldn’t put me in there anyway,” he block his chest with his arms.

“And why’s that?”

There was genuine curiosity in your question.

“Because I look like that guy from the Tron sequel.”

You start to have a fit of giggles, at least Santiago looked enough like Poe Dameron to get hassled by the Stormtroopers at Galaxy’s Edge. The others were chuckling too.

“What?”

“Ten years ago, maybe,” Will countered.

Only his comment made you laugh more, the pain entering your ribs as it hurt to keep a straight face. You weren’t denying that Benny had some resemblance, it was years of being out on the battle field and then being in the ring that made him rougher around the edges. The guy in the film was baby faced or so you can remember.

Benny glared, “Now, you have to chug.”

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“You hurt my feelings, the only way to make me happy is to chug.”

“Is there anything else I can do?”

His one eyebrow raised.

Maybe there was somewhere private the pair of you could go, a hidden away corner, how busy would the bathrooms be? He had to push back the thoughts because he could not be horny in a theme park.

“Don’t give him any options, Bunny, just do it.”

All their eyes fell on you as you brought the rim of the plastic glass to your lips. You tipped it back cautiously at first before tipping your head back and screwing your eyes shut. The pink golden liquid went down all too easily and you heard Benny cheer as the last drop hit your tongue.

When you open your eyes, they’re all beaming at you. A sudden hiccup comes from deep in your chest and you press a hand to where your diaphragm is.

“That sounded like it hurt,” Will’s eyes flitted up and down your frame.

You nod, wincing as another one comes but as he steps forward to check on you, you wave him off.

“It’ll pass, don’t worry.”

The hiccups subside yet they were replaced, you felt lightheaded and your legs were legitimately turning into jelly. Frankie saw you flagging, giving you a helping hand across the bridge to China for drink number nine but you were beginning to regret your decision on the challenge.

You swirled your straw and watched the blueberry boba dance in between the ice. Your one arm was looped into Frankie’s as he slowly guided you to the next country, the other three going on ahead.

“Cariño,” he glanced down, expecting you to look up, “you’ve gone quiet on me.”

With those words, you grind to a halt. It’s like you wait for the other three to fold into the crowds before you break.

“I’m not going to make it, this was such a stupid idea.”

You immediately cover your face and you can’t stop the tears from coming. Frankie went from laid back to full blown military mode the moment your words caught in your throat. He got you away from the oncoming public, finding the nearest, tucked away corner he could spot from his vantage point.

There wasn’t a soul around them.

“Bunny,” his voice was gentle, his fingertips wrapping round the cup. “Look at me.”

Placing the remains of your drink on the wall, he pulls your focus to his face. He holds your cheeks with his broad hands, thumbs catching the tears before they could go any further. He breathed with you, in and out through your noses because that’s the way you’re meant to do it.

You fall so deep into his brown eyes, the park seemed to fade away and you grab his wrists to steady yourself.

“There we go, better?”

You blinked out of your hypnosis, nodding.

“How did yo—“

“Had my fair share of freak outs.”

A soft smile returns to your lips as you try to wipe away the mess that you assume is around your eyes, your makeup may or may not be waterproof.

“Why the sudden change of heart?”

Your teeth graze the flesh on the inside of your cheek as you play with your hands, the straw you’d been fidgeting with taken away.

“When I’ve had this much I usually embarrass myself or throw up or both and that’s not happened yet. Then I know Santiago will judge me and say how he knew this was gonna happen and Will will take pity on me and drag my sick covered front back to the hotel and Benny would laugh and go on about it for weeks…”

Frankie couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing, none of them would do that to you.

Ok, Benny would laugh, nervously, because he wouldn’t know how to react and then would go and vomit himself. Will would more than likely take off his shirt and walk around topless if he had to. Santiago would pay a fortune to get a taxi ten minutes out of Epcot or even further, Disney World itself to get you to the comfort of your own bed. Whilst Frankie, he would happily get you back to the hotel room and hold your hair all night whilst you continued to chuck up processed food into the toilet. He’d tap out only to head down to the food hall and pay fucking fifteen dollars for a big carton of fruit to get those vitamins back in your system.

They wouldn’t be embarrassed, they wouldn’t let you be embarrassed and if someone had made you feel that way for having fun and going a little overboard in the past, he wanted to initiate some form of pain to make him feel better. However, his only concern now was the fact you hadn’t taken a breath.

He squeezed your shoulder, a staggering breath from you followed.

“We’d never do that to you, you know that right?”

You splutter out a laugh as you nod your head, your mind was clearly playing tricks on you.

“There’s only two more to go and I kinda owe you a drink.”

“Yeah, you do.”

He puts his thumb back to your cheek and removes the last stray tears before bringing you close. He coils an arm around your back, pressing you into his chest to hear his soothing heartbeat. You could contentedly spend the rest of your time like this but your feet were itching to go.

“I’m gonna finish my boba,” you stretch to grab the cup, “they might help line my stomach.”

“I don’t think they’re gonna help.”

When the pair of you arrive at Norway, you excuse yourself to go and check your reflection, Frankie went and found the others.

“How’s she doing?”

“Just a little bump in the road,” he shrugged as if it was nothing.

In the distance, they heard a cast member call someone out for running and Santiago knew it could only be one person. He caught you speed walking round the corner, waiting until there were no more watchful eyes to continue running.

“We should go and meet Anna and Elsa,” you bang your hands on the table.

“I’m down for that.”

Benny shut his mouth before he expressed that Elsa was hot.

“I’m sure the princesses would prefer to not meet two intoxicated town folk,” Will passed you a pretzel shaped pastry. “Maybe another day.”

Your food is accompanied by a Frozen Viking Coffee because they thought it was a better option than beer, they’d live with the repercussions of you being buzzed.

“Did you get told off for running?”

Santiago had that smug look across his face as the heat in your cheeks rose.

“Maybe.”

Will gave you that smile that makes you soften at the edges and now it was hard to look at either of them.

“I’m getting the next round.”

“You serious, Fish?” Benny got a glint in his eye. “You know Mexico is next and we could finish the day with—“

“We are not having shots.”

“Why not?”

“Everyone’s gotta make it back.”

Benny sighed but then he saw your shimmering, wide eyes looking back at him, the drink they got you going down way too fast. Honestly, he thought you would have been defeated by now, possibly a crying, drunken mess but you weren’t. He was proud of you.

“I’m gonna win,” your words don’t come out that precise.

“Of course you are, Bunny.”

His words are equally as slurred.

There was a novelty in watching you and Benny try to make it to Mexico. The location was obvious, a brown brick pyramid that was a beckon to where you needed to go except you two were going straight past it.

“We’ll head to the bar, you grab them.”

Will nodded, wandering over to the pair of you to an accompanying cheer.

Santiago and Frankie find the most popular bar in the place, by some miracle snatching the last table.

Somehow, the three of you make it inside the pyramid and immediately you comment on how dark it was. Will had your arm hooked in his, his brother refusing help even as he stumbled down the steps. Giggling as you came in, there were drinks already on the table.

“I’m surprised you got them here in one piece.”

“We had a close call.”

Will wouldn’t go into details with Santiago, he didn’t know how he’d handle you falling up the stairs and almost cracking your head on a step if your instincts hadn’t kicked in and saved you.

“Not so fast, we’ve got to cheers first.”

Frankie made sure you took the one luminous green in colour before all five of you clinked your glasses and took a sip. You smacked your lips after to make sure you got the salt from your skin.

“Good?”

“Not as good as yours.”

“You don’t need to flatter me.”

“I’m not lying though,” you wink.

Frankie made the best margaritas, he would host special evenings just to make them, always finding the best bottle of tequila at barbecues. He also never added any fancy ingredients unlike this one, who needs avocado in a drink anyway?

You took your time with this one, sipped carefully and tried to embrace the moment. All of you sat round a table, laughing and joking. Benny had tucked you underneath his arm, pulled you in to lean you against his frame as you play footsie under the table with Will.

“I’m gonna head out for some nachos,” Benny unravels himself from you.

There were glances between Frankie and Will before Frankie suggests joining him.

“I’ve not finished my drink,” you moan.

Benny bent down, cupping one side of your face with his palm. He brings your attention fully to him.

“Don’t rush,” he kissed your cheek sloppily. “I really need to get some food down me.”

Then he crashes his lips into yours with so much force it knocks you back. As him and Frankie walk away, you start to giggle.

“He’s so drunk…”

Santiago chuckles.

“And so am I,” you thrust your arms up.

Will drops his head, smiling, “You ready to head back soon, sweetheart?”

“But what about the show?”

“You’re gonna fall asleep before the show starts, honey. We’re taking you and Benny back to the hotel.”

It was easier said than done.

The moment you stepped outside the pyramid, the fresh air hit you and suddenly came the realisation that you were intoxicated more than you’ve ever been in your lifetime. You freeze at the top of the stairs, the view ahead of you going fuzzy at the edges and there’s two Santiagos and two Wills.

“It’s ok, Bunny,” Will was stretching out his hand and taking one of yours firmly. “Hold onto the handrail.”

There were other sets of eyes on you, those you didn’t know as you shakily held onto the thick wooden rail, cautiously going down each individual step.

“If you make it to where benny and Fish are, I’ll carry you home, yeah?”

You deliver a feeble nod and slowly your feet catch up with what your brain is telling them. Wobbling, you move one foot in front of the other, nails burying into Will’s hand as you hold on for dear life. Frankie was trying not to laugh.

“You’re adorable when you’re drunk.”

“Shut up,” you whine at Benny before taking a chip from his depleted box.

“How are we gonna do this?”

Frankie was worried, it took you almost four minutes to do something that took him a minute.

“Don’t worry, I got this, brother.”

While you were distracted, Will crouched down and squeezed into the gap between you and Benny. Instinctively, Benny moved back as his brother grabbed behind your knees. You flopped forward, protesting as he lifted himself up, your arm ravelling around his neck to stay upright. He forced you a little higher so he could get a better hold before turning to Frankie, who stood with his mouth open.

Santiago shrugged, “I suppose it’ll work.”

“I lost my ears.”

“I’ll get your ears, honey.”

“Don’t stretch them.”

He rolled his eyes, why on earth would he put on neon pink ears with pom pom detailing and a massive yellow bow? They rattled as he picked them up and then he started to shake them like maracas.

“What have you done to them?” You ask accusingly.

“Nothing, you didn’t realise they did that?”

“No,” you throw out a hand, “gimme!”

Santiago stepped back, the corner of his lips curling. Will dug deeper into your thighs as you leaned further to try and nab the ears back. You huffed before giving up the fight, sulking against Will’s shoulder.

Seconds later, Santiago slipped them onto your head.

You don’t know why the boys were making such a fuss, you could have made it to the bus. The driver mentioned how you were all going to miss the show later but Santiago said you’d already had too much fun. You rested your eyes, head relaxing to Benny’s shoulder as he continued to talk and talk, barely making any sense.

“I’m gonna pick up something,” Frankie motioned to reception, leaving Will and Santiago to take care of you.

“Where’s Frankie going?”

“He won’t be long, sweetheart.”

You grumble something incoherently, staggering forward and following the group. They barely got you through the door before you were removing your clothes.

“Fuck, Bunny, at least let me close the door.”

However your mind was focused on getting into bed, pulling off your top and yanking down your jeans. Benny had already thrown himself onto the available queen, arms spread wide, hopeful that you’d join him. You strip to a cute lilac underwear set, thinking this morning that at least one of them would see them.

Benny’s eyes flit up and down, he likes what he sees but as you step wobbling towards him, he’s aware he’s not going to get any action. You crawl and snuggle into his frame with an exasperated sigh.

“Aw, you tired, baby?”

Even in your clouded head, you knew Benny had never called you that before, you blame the alcohol. You respond with a single grunt, eyes already closed.

He envelops your body, lightly touching the areas he hasn’t seen all day. Your sigh comes softer this time, limbs relaxing as you settle your head into the crook of his neck. You note the citrusy undertones of his aftershave as you breathe him in, your final big breath before sleep takes you.

Feeling your weight slump, he kisses you on the cheek and temple just as he gets himself comfy.

When Frankie arrives, the two of you are out for the count, Santiago and Will having snuck onto the balcony.

“How much did that cost you?”

Frankie glanced at the plastic container in his hand, “All my snack credits.”

Santiago scoffed, “Thought you were gonna have a turkey leg.”

“I ain’t eating that shit.”

He’d seen them, they looked questionable, no turkey leg should be that big. Ducking back inside, he placed the fruit in the kitchenette before grabbing himself a drink, joining them to watch the sunset.

Benny’s arm had gone dead and his mouth was dry. He tactfully got himself out from underneath you though he’s sure you’re so far gone, you’ll be out the rest of the night. He unbuttoned his shirt and abandoned it on the bed with his hat, walking unsteadily around the room to find water.

He found a litre bottle and went to the balcony, opening the door a fraction to keep the sound from travelling in.

You don’t know what brought you out of your slumber but the awareness of being on your own was enough to get you out of bed.

“Fuck,” you say, stumbling from the tall bed frame.

Bleary eyed, you blink and wait for the room to come into view. It took a minute or two for you to remember where you were, turning to face a giant painting of Donald Duck with his three nephews on a hike. You decide to freshen your face, wiping off the make up before splashing yourself with cold water.

Picking up Benny’s appropriately themed shirt, you throw it on and then spot Santiago’s sunglasses on the giant chest.

“There she is!”

Your expression scrunches, “Argh, Benny, too much.”

The boys had managed to move the table inside and squeezed all the chairs they could on the balcony.

“There’s some fruit in the kitchenette, let me get it you.”

Frankie climbed over the back of his seat to get out, wrapping his arm around your waist to bring you a fraction closer. His lips meet your temple gently.

“Thank you.”

He nodded and went inside.

“Whose lap you gonna sit on?”

“No offence to Will and Santiago, you’re closest.”

“None taken,” Will was cradling a beer, shoved in the far corner by the railing.

Hooking your leg over the arm of the chair, you bring up the other and settle on Benny. His arm coils around you as he reaches down for the bottle of water and you gladly take it from him.

You gasp as Frankie returns with the carton of fruit, enough to last you the next few days. He hoisted himself back over the chair, settling down once again.

Benny propped his chin on your shoulder, opening his mouth as you pluck some berries from the pack. He sucks the juices from your fingers as you place them in his mouth.

“Can we see the fireworks from here?”

Santiago looks around the group, hoping someone else would admit it, there was no way in hell they were going to pay over a hundred dollars more just to see a bunch of pretty lights.

“Pool side view, sorry, honey.”

He didn’t like to disappoint you but you seemed unfazed.

“They probably want a fortune for it anyway,” you shrug, “and I think I’m ok with the view right here.”

They all groan at how cheesy it sounds, knowing that you were talking about them and not the fake mountainous waterfall down below.

“You’re gonna make Pope throw up, Bunny.”

You shove some fruit in Benny’s mouth to shut him up.

“I’m coming out in hives just being here.”

Rolling your eyes, you allow them to continue with their banter. You’re grateful you didn’t put into words what you were thinking in your head because, sure, people say Disney is the happiest place on earth but you believe here is even happier.

#triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier x you #triple frontier #triple frontier fluff #santiago garcia #benny miller #will ironhead miller #frankie catfish morales #fluff

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