𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭
pairing: druig x eternal!fem!reader
summary: you and druig have been fighting for too long, long enough that you've began to mistake what your true feeling are. inspired by a request made by mi amor, @rae-gar-targaryen <3
word count: 2k
warnings: "rivals" to lovers (because i couldn't find a better word for two people who can't stand each other but are on the same team), smut (+18), mild degradation, neck kisses, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, biting
Across the room, your skin prickled under Druig's scrutinizing gaze.
One would think he’d look more intimidating when his eyes were taken by pure gold, his blank stare the last thing you see before you’re nothing but a puppet on his strings. You were not afraid of his gift because it could never be used against you - what intimidated you was his cold, calculating stare.
You'd never admit it, but whenever he looked into your eyes, a chill would run down your spine. Sometimes, you'd start a fight, pick a petty argument, just to feel his eyes burning on you, relishing on it like a lover's touch - there was a strange satisfaction to it.
Testing the waters, you took a careful step forward, and he didn't move, keeping his hands behind his back. Wanting to wipe off the smug look on his face, the shadow of a grin starting to pull on his lips, you took another step.
Thena always chastised you for being too impulsive, but at that moment, you didn't care.
You took the first swing and Druig dodged it swiftly, still with his hands behind his back. Huffing impatiently, you tried again, watching him advance towards you.
His first punch is avoided, but the second one landed just above your stomach, making you stumble backward. Heavy breathing made you slow, but you were able to land a kick to his side - still, too slow.
Druig caught your leg, pulling you to him and making you lose balance. You fought back, thrashing against his hold, but when you got a hold of your surroundings, Druig immobilized you, his warm, heavy body trapping you beneath him, on your stomach.
You were suddenly too aware of the other pairs of eyes around the room, watching your training session.
"Do you yield?"
"Screw you." You said between clenched teeth.
"Yield." He insisted. "Admit that you lost, darling."
Druig tightened his grip on your neck, and you had to hold back a moan. It's involuntary, the feeling of his hot breath near your ear, the pressure of his lower body on your bottom. What left your lips was a mixture of a whimper and a moan, and you prayed that no one could listen.
Humiliated, you tapped your hand twice to the ground.
Druig released you immediately, and you're ashamed to think that you missed his warmth on top of you. He reached out to help you, and you begrudgingly accepted it.
"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
Druig teased you with a boyish smile. For once, you wished that first punch had landed. You shot him a fake smile as Thena approached the two of you.
"That was enough for today. Y/N, you need to work on your posture, when you…"
The warrior's serious voice melted into the background as you zoned out, noticing that Druig's eyes haven't left you. That grin was still there, displaying his dimples, a knowing look on his all-knowing eyes. You swallowed hard, heat spreading through your face, as you looked away.
After an accident with a group of Deviants that almost cost your lives, Ajak decided everyone needed more training - especially the ones who didn't engage in physical combat often, which included you.
Pairing you with Druig was a deliberate choice. The animosity between you was legendary at this point, tales of your rivalry having been spun through the centuries. It all started with an altercation centuries ago, and now you barely remember what you were fighting about, but your relationship with Druig was never the same.
It was second nature now, the push and pull between you. The unrelenting teasing. Phastos called you both children, Kingo insisted it was sexual tension. One of those comments bothered you more than the other.
You found Druig waiting for you in your quarters, standing next to your bed, as if he'd been patiently waiting for you.
"How did you even get in here?" You sighed, pinching your nose between your fingers. With no will to fight, you hoped he'd just go away.
He shrugged, feigning disinterest. "I have my ways."
"What do you want, Druig?"
"So, you're just gonna pretend nothing happened?" He pressed, calmly approaching you. Your fellow Eternal moved almost lazily, like a big cat, playing with his prey. "That we have nothing to talk about?"
Druig's observant nature had always been your downfall. He never let anything pass, especially not when it came to you. He'd test you just to know how far you will bend. But this time, you're afraid you're going to break.
"Are you delusional? Have you finally broken under the weight of your ego?"
You didn't like the way he's smiling at you - like he knew all your secrets. Perhaps he did, after all.
Druig kept on walking towards you, until he was but a breath away. You stood your ground, clenching your jaw, trying not to give away what you were feeling - though you knew it was useless. "I wasn't delusional when I heard you moan like a little whore after I barely touched you."
A bark, but with no bite. Your bravado didn't last long, not when Druig dipped his head to the crook of neck, burying himself there, hot tongue lavishing your skin with languid kisses.
You shuddered in his hold, body buzzing with newfound desire. He placed a hand on the base of your neck, holding you in place, hard enough to make you whimper.
"Tell me you don't want me. Tell me you don't want this and I'll leave, we never have to talk about this again." He ran his fingers slowly, from your neck, up to your cheek. Druig cradled your face like a lover, but you knew better. "But if you tell me you want me as much as I want you, then we can have fun, dove."
"You… want me?"
"Don't play dumb, Y/N. It's unbecoming of you." Druig sneered, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear.
Out of your daze, you stepped away enough to look Druig in the eyes. All you saw was blue taken by black pupils, like the sea in a storm, more beautiful than any sunshine gold. His offhanded confession angered you more than anything - how dared he treat this so casually?
You wanted to yell at him, tell him to leave, to stop playing with your feelings. Instead, you pushed him on top of your bed.
A debauched smile grew on his face as he watched you climb on top of him, and you desperately wanted to wipe the satisfaction off his face. You placed both of your hands on the sides of his face, and kissed him with a red hot urge.
Still, the feeling of his hands raising to hold your waist, lowering until they grabbed your ass and squeezed the plump flesh under his smooth fingers, made you moan into his mouth.
"Isn't this better?" He teased, pushing you down until he could guide your hips above his, grinding you against the bulge in his pants. You found yourself flustered at the wetness gathering between your legs, growing with each delicious movement of his hands. "To give in, to stop fighting."
Chest heaving, you still tried to hold some sort of advantage. "Who said I'm giving in?"
"Are you not?"
Suddenly, you felt yourself being flipped into your stomach, pressed into the bed by the weight of Druig's body. Just as you were, a few hours before. He reached down, riding the skirt of your tunic up, gathering it at your waist, and pushed down your underwear, until it fell on your knees, trapping your legs open.
His fingers found you wet and fluttering, circling your clit in tight, circular motions, and then two of his long, elegant fingers slipped into you, pumping in and out with ease. You forced your head down, pushing your forehead to your pillow, to muffle the sounds you couldn't help but make, pleasure taking over your body.
"Look at you, gushing all over my fingers, beautiful girl. So wet." Druig left a kiss on your exposed shoulder, where the strap of your tunic had slipped. "All for me."
When his fingers left you, you let out a weak whimper. You didn't care anymore, about feeling defeated, humiliated, even. Druig made you feel good, as if he was making up for every petty argument and every threat of aggression. Maybe that was what he meant all along.
You heard him shove down his pants, whimpering again as you felt him rub the blunt tip of his cock against your entrance, making you push your ass back, seeking some sort of relief. Then, he grabbed your hips and sank himself into you, slowly, making you feel every inch.
"Oh, darling. Your sweet cunt feels so fucking good around me." He sounded far away, but maybe it was because you were dizzy with want, almost drooling into your pillow as he started moving inside you. "You're not running from me anymore, eh? You're staying right where you are. Taking me like a good girl."
Eyes rolling back, all you could do was huff in response. You wanted to say you were not his good girl, but the feeling of his cock dragging inside your soaked pussy rendered you speechless - and, oh, Druig thrived on that.
He leaned in, caging your body with his, hips moving alongside yours as he fucked you, hard and fast. You clung to the bed, moaning with every thrust, too aware of heat of his body above you, his chest glued to your back, his heavy breath on your neck. Your pussy fluttered around him, slick running down your thighs as you whimpered, a sign that you were close.
Druig changed your positions again, turning you to face him, slipping back into you as he hooked your legs on his lean waist. You felt him everywhere, body completely given in to his, letting him take you where he wanted - completely surrendered to him. And you liked that.
You wondered if this was what it was like, having your mind taken by him. Was it blissful? Did it make you float like this? Closer and closer to oblivion.
"Let go. I'm right there with you." He whispered into your neck, rutting his hips into yours with wild abandon. "Look at me."
You shook your head, burying it in on the curve of his shoulder. You didn't want to give him this taste of victory, to have him watch as he made you cum. Not this, you wouldn't let yourself be more vulnerable.
"Cum for me, my darling. I know you want to."
You drowned into your orgasm as it flooded all of your senses. As you felt it hit you, like a wave crashing down, you bit into his shoulder, tearing into his flesh. A last show of resistance, or perhaps, one of revenge.
The aggressiveness was enough to take Druig down with you, making him cum inside you, as he gasped "Fuck, Y/N" into your collarbone.
Neither of you moved, too spent to say anything. You nuzzled your nose into his shoulder, and licked right over the mark you'd left on his otherwise unblemished skin, soothing the red imprint of teeth. Fighting the urge to run your fingers through his hair as he laid on your chest, you let your hand rest beside you.
"Did you mean what you said?" You asked, staring at the ceiling, unsure of your own voice. "About wanting me."
Druig lifted himself up on his elbows, facing you again. He grabbed your chin between his thumb and index fingers, making you look at him this time. "I've said a lot of things to you without meaning them. This… wasn't one of them."
Sighing, you felt like you were right where you started. Druig never failed on leaving you confused. "We really need to talk, don't we?"
"We have all the time in the world."
cleaning up boxer!Barry & boxer!Druig after a fight...
a/n....thank you for that overwhelming response to that thot I had! hear me out, I know NOT a damn thing about this sport. I just think Barry's so fucking hot while doing it.... enjoy. a lil hurt/comfort with a dash of spice. tagging @waspswidows & @mothdruid ♡
Warnings: mentions of blood, bruises, minor violence, mentions of sex
requests are open♡
"Fucking hell!" Barry exclaimed, flinching at your touch, his hand coming up to his nose. You grumble and pull your hands away, the bloody cotton pad tucked between your palm and thumb.
"You need to stay still," you gripe, sliding closer on the wood bench. The boxer whined but leaned in, letting you dab the gash on the bridge of his nose with antiseptic.
"Is it broken?" he asked painedly, one of his eyes squinting at the burning sensation.
"No," you sigh, looking into his pretty blue eyes, "You're lucky though, he almost got you."
Barry pouted and shifted his gaze to your slightly parted lips. As you grazed the tender spot he pulled away, earning him an angered glare. "You should be in me lap, gorgeous," he smirked boyishly, "I think I could stop movin' that way."
You rolled your eyes and stood up, pulling a band-aid out of the kit before settling into his lap. Barry placed his hands on your hips, bringing you in closer to him with a deep exhale. A silence filled the air as you worked on his swollen nose, his soft breathing was accompanied by the ceiling fan above the ring.
"There," you finally said as you crumpled the white band-aid wrapper in your palm. He smiled up at you as a silent thank you before he carefully leaned in to kiss your collar bone. His strong hands roam up your back and in return you place yours around his neck, one of them getting tangled in his still damp locks of hair.
A small moan escaped you as his lips connected with the side of your neck, his teeth grazing the warm skin. "Barry," you breathe, your hips instinctively rolling over his crotch. He goes to trail your neck with kisses until the tip of his nose brushes against you a little too hard.
"Fuck! My nose!" he grunted, leaning back against the wall. You giggle and place your hands on his naked chest, looking at him sympathetically.
"Hold this on your eye," you instructed plainly, tossing Druig the clear plastic bag of crushed ice. He leaned against the sink in the poorly lit bathroom of the gym, his good eye watching as you pull a red box from the top shelf on the other side of him. He man pressed the bag to his eye, the cold sensation soothing the burning skin.
"Am I not getting a 'congratulations' from you, love?" he joked with a sly smirk.
You huffed and slammed the box down, opening the lid roughly "You were," you replied bitterly, "but then I found out the only reason why you were fighting in this match was because you taunted Ikaris."
Druig chuckled lowly, his ribs too sore for the proper laugh that the incident called for. "It was worth it, I admit it."
You dab a solution onto a cotton ball and turned to face him. Your hand was lovingly placed below his chin as you cleaned up the cut by his temple. His face was so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin and smell the iron of his dried blood.
"You worried me, Dru," you admitted, not daring to meet the intense gaze his stormy eyes had on your face, "you know how he gets."
"I'm sorry I worried you," he told you, his fingers gliding up your hand to wrap around your wrist gently. He pulled your hand off of him, the cold of the alcohol tingling his tender cheek.
Your eyes peered into his. It was a mystery how the blue of his eyes could shine through the deep purples of his bruises. You could at least be relieved that Ikaris looked worse. "Your lip is cut," you observe as you look at it.
Druig leans in a little closer, "Will you clean that up too?" he whispered. The hand that you had underneath his chin moved so that the pads of your fingers could lightly grip his jaw, closing the distance between you.
Shadows of the sun (prologue)
“Can you tell us the story of the twins again?” the gleeful children surrounded the younger looking Eternal
“Yes yes, the twins!”
Conjuring up golden projectiles, Sprite showcased two figures in the air. A female and a male alike in several ways. They are seen battling the deviants as they are working in coordination with each other. They float as if they were a God and a Goddess roaming the Earth with their feet never touching the ground.
“This is the story of Ikaris and Ikaria. One who flew close to the sun and the one who stayed in the shadows of the sun”
Kingo smiled as he reminisces the stories that Sprite would tell. But for him, there was another character that she was missing out in the story. A crucial character that forever diverged the path of the twins. The broody male that seems to hate the sun but brought the girl out of its shadows.
This is a new Druig series that I’ll be working on and im so excited. Let me know how you all find it and if you wanna be tagged for this, just give it a reply or a reblog xx
My beautiful, beautiful Makkari.
Can you write a Druig drabble of him babying the reader when she gets a paper cut cause he wants her attention?
Druig x gn!reader
Word count: 686
Warnings: mentions of blood and bleeding (but it's a paper cut so not much)
A/N: hello anon! so this got way longer than I was planning it to be but i hope you'll enjoy it :D
“Shit!” You exclaimed, closing the book that you were reading and placing it on the desk near you.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Druig came into the room as soon as he heard you yell, eyes scanning the room for any threat. Finally, his eyes landed on you and saw you holding your hand, examining the small paper cut you got while reading. His eyes softened and his body relaxed before making his way towards you.
“It’s nothing, just a small paper cut,” You said, grabbing a tissue and wiping off the excess blood. Before you could process it, Druig had pulled you into a tight hug, a yelp coming from your mouth.
“Aw, you big, clumsy, baby,” You heard Druig say, to which you let out a snort. The hug wasn’t unwelcomed so you stayed there for a little while. He held you close and tight, you felt the most protected in his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your head on his chest. The rhythms of his heartbeat soothed you and helped you relax from the small but sharp pain coming from your finger.
Looking at the clock over Druig’s shoulder, it was almost dinner time. So with great hesitancy, you pulled away from the hug.
“It’s almost dinner, I still need to cook,” Making your way towards the kitchen, you felt Druig slip his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together. He’s in a clingy mood tonight, you thought.
“Should you be cooking?” He asked, sincere concern gracing his face as he gestured towards the paper cut that had already stopped bleeding.
“It’s a paper cut, my love, not a broken arm. I can cook perfectly fine,”
“I know that but,” He bit his lip, a nervous habit that he picked up a couple decades ago. “We could just ask one of the villagers to make us food for tonight,”
“It’s alright with me.” You said, giving him your dazzling smile.
“Here, let me help you,” Druig said, getting the plates and utensils from your hands and placing them on the table. You stood there, flustered at his actions.
“Wait,” He said before going over to your side of the table and pulling the chair out for you. You looked at him inquisitively, before sitting down, him pushing the chair towards the table.
Before you could even start cutting up the food on your plate, Druig had already cut up some on his and was starting to place them on your plate. Slightly exasperated and confused, you drop your utensils on your plate and gently held onto Druig’s outstretched arm.
“What’s got you in such a mood tonight? I got a paper cut, my moon. I’m pretty sure I can do mundane tasks with a bandaid on my finger,”
“Can I not spoil, care for, and adore my wonderful partner, who I’ve been with for centuries?” He’s trying to get out of having this conversation with you, that much was obvious, but you weren’t falling for it. So, you pushed even more.
“Well, of course you can and I’m not complaining. But c’mon Dru, what is it?” Concern laced your words as you looked at him with those doe eyes he fell for. Finally, he let out a sigh and you let go of his arm.
“‘S nothing, just in one of those moods tonight.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to cut the conversation short. You didn’t want to push him anymore so you let the topic go. The rest of dinner came and went in silence but you made sure that he knew you were there for him, the soft touch of your foot against his leg a constant reminder. Druig was grateful for that source of grounding he needed from his love.
As you were washing up the dishes, Druig crept up from behind and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“I love you, my starlight” He whispered. After drying your hands, you turned around and placed your arms around his neck, a calming smile on your lips.
“I love you too, my moon,”
Barry Keoghan training — via Michael Bossman’s Instagram (January 20, 2022)
city life, apple pie (b.k.)
Masterlist | Ko-fi
pairing: barry keoghan x actress!reader
summary: following your movie's success, you and barry promote your 'romeo & juliet' run with a glam photoshoot paying tribute to the most iconic love stories of all time.
word count: 3,977
songs referenced: lizzy mcalpine - apple pie / beyonce - partition / beyonce, j balvin - mi gente / sara bareilles - a soft place to land
warnings: language, sexual tension, lots of fluff, so much song references, koda makes an appearance, hurt/comfort, angsty scene, mention of death & suicide (the usual romeo & juliet stuff), smut (oral (f), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie)
notes: part of the 'in agreement' universe, but can be read as a standalone. my taglist has ended. follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass to get notified for my latest words! <333 happy reading and reblog if you liked it!
Vanity Fair shoots their “Center Stage” cover in an English countryside manor with Barry Keoghan and Y/N Y/L/N, as the stars of National Theatre’s Romeo and Juliet pays tribute to the most iconic romances on stage and screen throughout the year.
Barry, clad in a navy Valentino suit and fedora hat, sits back against a mid-century couch with a cigarette between his fingers. Y/N, in vintage wine-colored Cavalli dress, scarf around her neck and black beret, leans back against him, blowing smoke from her (prop, herbal) cigarette. A picture-perfect Bonnie and Clyde as the cameras click around them.
“So what’s it like to work together again?”
“Still disappointed he’s not Will Poulter,” Y/N dryly quipped, earning a bashful laugh from her counterpart.
“I know, I know. I’m a few inches short...”
In a twist of impeccable comedic timing, she paused and glanced down at Barry’s lap dubiously, which made us all erupt in laughter.
“In height, I mean in height!” he clarified. “But, yeah, we were so excited, we ran lines together before our final audition.”
“Yeah, we’d had a few auditions already —separately. So after we found out we were gonna have another audition together, we kind of got together and ran lines… It was like having a study buddy. It’s nice,” Y/N mused.
The streets downstairs are still lively with pubs and shops brimming with patrons, although it sounds like nothing more than muffled noise from your flat. The takeout boxes are empty and stacked away, next to the spent wine bottle and glasses imprinted with lip stains on the rims. There are two copies of Romeo and Juliet on the coffee table, both heavily marked and highlighted and annotated. Entirely forgotten by the two people who own it.
Who are way too busy making out like teenagers on the couch.
“Whatever happened to running lines, huh?” you can’t hold back your giggle as Barry kisses the ticklish spot on your neck –again and again, until he reaches your collarbone.
He scoffs playfully, mouth still occupied as his hands join him in undoing your sweater buttons. “Lady, by yonder blessed moon, I swear…” he finally reaches your breasts and immediately toys your sensitive nipples with his tongue, “...that tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops–”
“O, swear not by the moon,” you sigh. It’s getting harder to remember your lines now, especially with your boyfriend worshiping your tits without an ounce of care. But you power through anyway, every word a delicious curse out of your mouth. “The inconstant moon that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love,” your fingers card through his dark hair with the slightest tug as emphasis, “prove likewise variable.”
Barry finally pauses, looking up at you with earnest eyes and kiss-swollen lips. “Mm. What shall I swear by?”
“Do not swear at all,” you lie on your back, pulling him on top of you, “Or, if thou wilt,” you wedge your thigh between his legs, feeling the growing stiffness in his sweatpants, “Swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry… and I’ll believe thee.” you nibble on his earlobe, and he moans.
He nods squarely. “If my heart’s dear love—”
And just like that, he surrenders. Slithers down your body to yank your little shorts off and spreads your legs open and buries his face right then and there. Lustful and greedy and all-consuming. He takes every drip of your arousal from your weeping cunt and uses it to paint figure eights on your clit, with his tongue as the most skillful brush. The rough calluses on his fingers draw gentle caresses on your inner thigh until it grows impatient and joins his mouth, sinking into your weeping cunt. One at a time. Two at a time. Curling in. Out. Playing you like an instrument until that growing fire within you bursts, and your whole body sings.
You’re struggling to catch your breath, but at that moment, the only thing you have the mind to crave is him.
His loving touch. His warm embrace. His soft lips.
It’s your turn to take off his clothes and get on top of him, bringing yourself up to straddle him. But you see his stupid grin and his beautiful eyes and you’re pretty sure you’ve never been so gone for someone.
“What are you thinking?” he nudges your forehead with his.
“Nothing. Just…” you kiss your own juices off of the tip of his nose and the corner of his chin, making him giggle. His cock is rock hard against your lower stomach, and you try to bite back a mischievous smile. “How upset would you be if I were to just… stop?”
He groans, throwing his head back dramatically. “Ugh, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?”
“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” you’re secretly quite proud of his still remembering the lines, but you want to draw out this sweet torture just a little longer. Besides, it was his idea to run lines —and he mainly wanted your help to memorize. And that’s exactly what you’re doing.
“The…” his brows furrowed together in a knot, “The satisfaction of— fuck, I don’t know, shagging each other senseless on the bloody balcony? Like they want to so badly?” he gestures between you desperately.
You shake your head with a laugh. “Come on, you got this. The exchange…?”
He closes his eyes in concentration, bringing his face to yours again. Then, sure as day, with a soft peck on your lips, “The exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine.”
“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it.” you nuzzle his nose with your own, ever so fondly. “And yet I would it were to give again.”
“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?” the words flow out of his lips effortlessly, and it sounds a lot like a plea. Stay. Take me inside you. The way his hips inch closer to you echo the sentiment, too.
“But to be frank, and give it thee again.” and with that, you seal the union with a kiss as you do just that.
Neither of you actually say it, but that night, you realize that you would spend the rest of your days like this. Promising each other and making good –making your best on your promise every day. With every kiss, every thrust.
His hands are firm on your ass, helping you bounce on his cock as he fills every inch of you. You hold him close, until your body is flushed against his, feeling his back muscles working under your palms. His moans are quiet, but clear in the stillness of the room. It rings in syncopation with your little whimpers and the sound of your bodies clashing. Colliding. Becoming one.
He chants your name like it’s the only word he’s ever known. His mouth seeks the taste of your smart tongue, your soft skin, and his fingers chases the feeling of you. Tightening around him in the height of pleasure.
“Come on, darling girl. Let go, I got you…” he breathes out, rubbing quick little circles on your clit, hips snapping up as his pace grows more desperate.
You don’t hold back. You never do, not in times like this. Not when there’s no places to go or people to see just outside. Not when there’s just you and him and the rest of the world so far away.
There’s a dopey smile on his face when you pull your face away from him. “What?”
“Is this what we’re thinking about, when we’re up there on the balcony? Because… I get it. Totally.” He kisses you deeply one more time, smiling into your lips.
Y/N traded the femme fatale look for a wide-eyed ingenue as she dons an angelic white 50’s-style A-line dress by Dior, as she stretches her arm out with Barry mirroring her position behind her, in vintage Salvatore Ferragamo, to pay homage to West Side Story, which was based on Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. The air is electric as they tread around the room, music playing in the background.
“What was the process like, preparing for the play?”
“It’s a bit like drama school, isn’t it?” Y/N turned to her co-star, arm resting on the back of his chair.
Barry paused thoughtfully. “Well, I wouldn’t know, would I? I never went to drama school,” he says with an easy grin.
“I mean, it’s kind of like this. We get the physical stuff in the morning, like movement or dance or stage combat… and then we do scene work. And we’re all kind of just… hanging out.”
“It’s kind of strange to have this sort of routine, though!” he piped up. “I don’t think I’ve ever had my shit together better than these past 5 months.”
Y/N nodded vehemently. “We’re so used to working odd hours! But —especially then, we’d just rehearse during the day and have the evening off like… normal people. It's crazy.”
It’s a nice little change of pace for the two of you. From an intense six weeks of filming in a tiny village in Wales, to three weeks of bliss and nothing else in Ireland, followed by three long months apart while you’re filming in Australia and him in Vancouver.
And now you’re together again in London. Sharing a workplace and a lovely little flat in Southbank.
You spend most days going to rehearsal together, parting ways in the corridor, where you’d head off to dance rehearsal and Barry would go into fight choreography.
Sometimes, when you’re finished early, you’d sneak into the boys’ gym, watching Barry spar with Jonathan, who plays Tybalt. Sometimes they would box, sometimes they would run the knife fight sequence. Sweat dripping down his nose bridge, drenching the back of his t-shirt. Eyes glued to his opponent in great focus. But sometimes, just for a split second, he would clock you and tilt his head upward in a discreet nod.
And you would do the same for him.
The team bonded really well really quickly, and it’s not unheard of for cast members to pop by each others’ rehearsal studio. Especially when there’s Beyoncé and cheering heard from the hallway.
It’s a pleasant surprise for Barry, however, to find you and three other cast members (but mostly you, let’s be honest) dancing your heart out in front of the studio mirror. Gone are the graceful contemporary jazz routines from the show; you’re just tearing it up on the dance floor. Face down, ass up, hips rising and falling to the sultry, pulsing beat. Your legs kick high in the air, pulling you up onto your feet. And as quick as you stand up, you drop to a squat as the bass drops, bouncing up and down in perfect sync with your friends.
“Yoncé all on his mouth like liquor, Yoncé all on his mouth like liquor…” the music echoes throughout the studio as you look up to find Barry (and the other boys, but mostly him) leaning back against the wall. Breathless, a towel slung over one shoulder, stealing a glance of your running shorts-clad ass on the mirror before meeting your gaze.
If it weren’t for the cast and crew in the room, whistling and cheering you on, you’re pretty sure he would’ve tackled you to the ground and taken you right there and then. But the thumping drumline halts, replaced by a completely different song.
You tilt your head upwards in a nod at him.
You’re far from the best dancer in the company, but you sure know how to work a crowd. As the rhythm picks up, you motion at the people on the sidelines to come to the center. Four dancers become seven, and seven becomes eleven –as your Romeo, Tybalt, Mercutio, ensemble, and even set designer all join in– jump to the Latin beat. The air is sweltering and you can feel the room buzzing with energy as everyone moves in the same breath, technique and dancing skills be damned.
You dance with anyone and everyone around you– until Barry finds you in the crowd and pulls you in swiftly, and you’re more than happy to let him twirl you to his heart’s desires. He dips you –you know full well he’s admiring your gleaming, heaving chest as you lean back, and smirks when he pulls you back up in the big finish.
“How come your session ends with a dance party and mine ends with bruises on my sides?” he wonders out loud as the dance disperses and the two of you sit at one of the benches on the side.
“Maybe you should’ve taken up ballet instead of boxing,” you shrug cheekily.
“Ha-ha, you wish.” he puts a playful fist on your arm before he hands you your water bottle.
You spot Jonathan eyeing the two of you with a naughty look. “Lovebirds! Are you guys just... method acting or is this a real thing now?”
“Oh, we’re fully head over ass in love.” you put your hand around Barry’s waist, resting your head on his shoulder. “Gotta keep the chemistry alive, right?”
And Barry plays along without missing a single beat. “Totally. We’re getting matching tattoos on the inside of our lips.”
Siobhan, one of the ensemble, walks past and rolls her eyes in amusement.
“Yo Shiv, what do you reckon? Bromance or showmance?” Jonathan leans his arm against the petite girl’s shoulder.
“I think you two are a load of shit,” she chuckles as she wipes off her sweat with a towel.
Neither of you say anything to clarify. It’s your and Barry’s own little corner, and you intend to keep it that way for as long as you can.
As the golden hour rolled around, Barry and Y/N, both clad in Alexander McQueen, hit the estate grounds for a walk as romantic as the stuff of Austen. Ivory Regency-inspired dress sweeps along the grass, their dark coats billowing around them. The pair huddles close together in the chilly January air, foreheads leaning against each other when the sun hits them just right —a coincidental, magical Pride & Prejudice moment we nearly missed (thanks to our trusty photographer for capturing the moment!)
“Now that the show’s run is starting, what would you say is the biggest challenge so far?”
“Definitely the stamina,” they answered in near unison.
“You don’t wanna get too comfortable and deliver it the exact same way day in and day out, and that takes a lot of focus and honesty and just… being present in the story,” Y/N elaborated. “Every time should feel like the first.”
“Mm, and not to freak out if things go a bit differently. Sometimes different is– is good, you know?,” Barry added.
“Like, I’m sure we’ve done the death scene a bunch of different ways.”
“Sometimes we’re very frantic, sometimes we’re quite catatonic and confused, too…” the Dublin native recalled what seemed to be a specific instance, as his co-star lit up in perfect understanding. “And I think the biggest challenge is to not put the pressure to hit certain marks every night. Because we might discover something new, who knows.”
Acting is about reacting, but nobody ever tells you how hard it is to not react. You’re lying still on your tomb, feigning sleep so deep as your lover mourns your supposed death in front of a full house that night.
“O my love, my wife…” he chokes up, his voice small and wavering as he stands over your resting place. “Death, that hath suck’d the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.”
It sounds like a distant memory now. Of simpler times –happier times of what little time you had together. Of just admiring how his delightful and perfect face lit up. How he looked at you in such awe, how those words paled in comparison to how you felt.
It sounded like someone trying to piece back something broken within him.
And worst of all, you can’t do a single thing about it. You’re not even supposed to hear it. But you do, and you just keep it inside you and let it bubble until it overflows.
“Eyes, look your last. Arms, take your last embrace.” he holds you as close as he can, bracing himself. The defeat in his tone slowly turns to yielding. Resolute. His mind’s made up now. There’s no going back. “Here’s to my love!”
You feel his weight lifted off of you for a moment. Silent. And with the gentlest kiss on your lips, a droplet of tear falling right on your cheek. And then a sharp gasp –violent and brutal as it burns him from the inside. His body convulses as it fails to cling onto life.
And just as life slips from his finger, life comes back to you from a peaceful slumber, curling into his arms. For a moment, everything feels right. It’s not perfect, but it’ll do.
You turn to kiss him awake, but he doesn’t stir. He just lies there heavy and lifeless. You sit upright, hand frantically cradling, reaching for his face, his hand –there’s a glass vial in his grasp, and you almost don’t want to believe it.
“Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end,” you utter, every word so bitter in your mouth, and you almost think you hate him.
But you see his face, so beautiful and peaceful and perfect, and the love and heartbreak in you runs over. The thought of no more of this makes you ache so much.
“O churl, drunk all, left no friendly drop to help me after?” you wail, holding him close in your arms. His body is no heavier than the burden in your gut. And you kiss him, over and over and over again, hoping to get some poison to overpower the ache. Again and again and again, but it just hurts even more until you can’t hold him up anymore.
Someone calls his name and a scream rips out of your chest, but no sound comes out. Just air and pain and pleas for death to end your misery. And as fate allows, you hear a muted thunk on your side.
“O happy dagger…” you take Romeo’s blade into your hand, grip strong and shaking all the same. “This is thy sheath.” you plunge it into your stomach, the plastic blade retracts upon contact, but you press the edge of the handle until you feel it on your rib.
You fall into his arms, as close as you can, as light begins to fade from your sights, welcoming the nothingness. “They rust, and let me die.”
The scene continues and you breathe so slowly, so evenly, even though it’s so damn hard. All you want is to curl up into Barry’s arm and cry. But you feel his hand, the one hidden from the audience’s view, on your back. Tapping you with his forefinger. One, two, three times. As if letting you know that he’s there.
It’s not perfect, but it’ll do.
“Romeo and Juliet deals with tragedy as much as it deals with love, and looking at how stripped down and raw your version is, we can imagine it being quite intense. How do you guys unwind at the end of the day?”
“Watch a movie and hang out with my dog,” Barry answered immediately. “Where is he, by the way? C’mere, boy.”
And like clockwork, the Czech shepherd padded in, tail wagging and tongue sticking out, chuffed as chips. He squeezes in between the pair’s seats, but licks the girl’s hand instead.
“Koda!” she squealed, petting his head. “Do you like me more than Barry, bub? Do you? Good boy!”
“Traitor.” the man in question shook his head. “But I love him still. He’s the best.”
“I wish I had Koda to sit on the couch with when I get home,” she sighed. “I mostly just play a little music. It’s nothing fancy or anything, it’s just… grounding.”
From a walk in the park to a dip in the pool. The pair is no stranger to crazy challenges –in fact, they embrace it. Y/N, done up in Elie Saab, and Barry, in a custom armor by Versace, jumps into the indoor pool hand-in-hand. The Swarovski crystals on her gown resemble droplets underwater, and his metal vest gleams in the night light streaming from the French doors that surround the room. Finding warmth and intimacy as they recreate Baz Luhrmann’s iconic Romeo and Juliet rendition.
Some nights are tougher than others, especially for Barry. Sometimes the emotion sticks with him no matter how long he holds you after the curtains close, or how many people he talks to at the stage door, or however long he tries to meditate (though he never lasts long.) It never really goes away until he’s at home, washing all the grime away under the hot shower.
He towel-dries his hair as he pads through the hallway, following the sound of white noise in the living room. And sure as day, he finds you curled up on the couch in an old t-shirt, Koda by your side, as Casablanca plays on TV with the volume on low.
You offer him a big smile and a forkful of the apple pie from your favorite bakery down the street, and he accepts by wordlessly, blissfully taking a bite.
“Oh my God…” he moans, savoring the taste –the crunch and the warmth and the sweet in his mouth. Then, taking the whole plate from you, “This is legend.”
You huff, but motion at the empty spot next to you. As always, Barry squeezes himself in between you and his trusty companion,
You pick up your travel-worn guitar from the back of the couch, serenading him as he eats the remaining pie. “Sugar, butter, flour…”
There’s an unspoken amusement in the first line you sing, like you’re sharing an inside joke. But there’s a certain sense of melancholy laced in the melody, too, as you sing, “Sometimes I still see her, my mother the dreamer. She’d say, ‘nothing’s impossible, child.’”
Barry takes your folded legs onto his lap, caressing your knees while you continue singing. He leans back and turns the TV all the way down, pleased and pensive in this little moment with you.
The line, “May we all be so lucky,” carries a completely different meaning and you’d be lying if you didn’t tear up as you strum the guitar the final time.
Koda barks happily, as if saying yes we are.
“Right on, mate. Right on.” Barry laughs, giving him a hearty belly rub. Then he softens, gazing up at you.
“I…” he starts thoughtfully, “like you like this. You look like you.”
You look at him in question.
He carefully puts away the apple pie and the guitar, and leans so close to you, he rubs his nose against yours. And then… he snaps the waistband of your cute cactus-patterned panties.
“Shut up.” you laugh, returning the favor with his colorful submarine boxers.
There’s no costume you put on, no makeup staining your face. No decorum that needs to be maintained. No form of disbelief suspended in the air. You’re both stripped down and tethered to the ground.
And yet you’re over the moon to be so grounded with him. Yes, the two of you are both exhausted from a two-show day, bodies aching from all the dancing and fighting and running around, and your emotions are all amok. But you’re also wearing silly underwear with this man, cuddling this dog that stole your heart, all cozy and warm in the little flat despite the rain pelting against your window outside.
Ill always be a barnes girl dont get me wrong but i fell For druig so hard 😍
*Not my photo*
Pairing: Boxer!Barry Keoghan x (female) Reader
Summary: you come to one of Barry’s sparring sessions, unfortunately he’s too distracted by you the whole time to really get any good training done
Warnings: bit of fluff, smut, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex (m+f), semi-public sex, minors DNI
A/N: this was inspired by this gif set here. This is my first time I’ve ever written for Barry, it’s also the first time I’ve written for a real person (aka. not a fictional character) um so yeah I mean I hope you guys like it🙈 also shout-out to @mothdruid and @siempre-bucky for fuelling my boxer!Barry obsession. Also tagging @redroomproperty and @strwbrrybucky bc you guys showed interest in this idea as well!👀 Anyway this one’s for you guys, hope you like😈
This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. If you click ‘keep reading’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.
“Ow, hey” Barry whines as the trainer's focus mitt comes crashing down on his head.
Barry’s eyes quickly slide back to his trainer, a look of mock horror on his face.
“Eyes over here” the trainer quips.
You smile to yourself as Barry rolls his eyes before getting back to sparring again. He lands several powerful blows in quick succession, a grunt of effort leaving him with each move. You bite your lip as you watch him, admiring the way his lean and strong body moves. So light on his feet, but so powerful with his hits. You smirk to yourself when you see Barry’s eyes once again shift to look at you, his gaze not so subtlety landing on your mouth where your bottom lip was between your teeth. His arms fall slightly from their defence position as he looks you up and down.
“Hey” the trainer claps his pads together in front of Barry’s face, breaking him from his own reverie. “You’re gonna get your ass handed to you if you keep getting distracted like that."
“Ugh” Barry groans with half a laugh on his lips. “I just can’t help it when I’ve got my gorgeous girlfriend here on the edge of the ring” he jokes as he does a stupid little dance whilst heading towards you.
You blush and giggle as he finally reaches you, pretending to spar with you briefly, his head ducking from side to side behind his boxing gloves.
“Barry” you chastise him lightly. “You need to focus, stop letting your attention fall elsewhere,” it was your turn to roll your eyes at him.
“Mmm but I just can’t help it” he hums, placing a quick kiss to your lips.
You both smile and giggle into the kiss like love-drunk idiots.
“Okay okay” the trainer cringes from the middle of the ring.
Barry lifts his mouth off you, that gorgeous smile of his plastering his face as he looks at you.
“Well clearly this session isn’t going anywhere, let’s just call it day shall we Barry?” The trainer chuckles as he starts to take off his focus mitts.
Barry turns around to face the trainer, his back leaning on the ropes just next to where you were stood. Barry lets out a deep, overly-dramatic sigh.
“If you insist” he smirks.
“Seriously what are you gonna do when she comes to watch you at a real match?” The trainer laughs to himself as he collects the rest of his equipment.
Barry ponders the question for a second before looking back over his shoulder at you.
“Lose, I guess” he shrugs before throwing you a wink.
The trainer just laughs and shakes his head again.
“See ya next time” the trainer waves before heading out towards the front.
Barry wastes no time in turning back around and placing his mouth on yours. You squeak in surprise but are quick to reciprocate the movement of his lips against your own. He hums against your lips before pulling away the slightest amount, enough so that he could speak but still close enough that his lips brushed over yours with each word.
“You wanna come with me to the locker rooms?” He taunts, raising an eyebrow, that smirk returning to his face.
You feign innocence.
“And what possible reason is there for me to be coming with you to the locker rooms hmm?” You raise an eyebrow back at him.
His eyes darken as they dip down to look at your lips before returning to meet your gaze.
“So you can fuck me the way you’ve been wanting to this whole time” he mutters darkly as he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth.
“Hmm I don’t know” you pretend to contemplate his offer, a breathy laugh passing your lips.
“You were a bad boy for not doing your training properly, and I don’t know if bad boys deserve to be fucked” you tease with a soft giggle.
He groans. “Ah please don’t tease me darlin’” he whines, looking at you with puppy-dog eyes. “Come on, I’ll be a good boy for you” he smirks as he dips his head to attach his lips to your neck. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise” he murmurs into your skin.
You sigh as you roll your head back, letting him have better access as he nips and sucks at the skin of your throat.
“Hmm, if you insist” you sigh, mimicking his words from earlier.
“Atta girl” he smirks before detaching himself from you so he could duck under the ropes and out the ring.
And so now here you were, completely naked, pressed up against the wall in the locker room. Barry had one hand on your stomach, pushing you back against the wall. The other held your thigh in place over his shoulder as his face was lost between your wet folds.
You were already soaked by the time he got you into the locker room, both of you frantically tearing at each other, ripping clothes off haphazardly as your mouths clashed and your tongues fought for dominance. Just watching him box had got you all worked up, a wetness seeping into your panties. And now, by the time he had you naked and pushed against the wall, sinking to his knees in front of you, you were practically mewling and begging for him to touch you.
He had obliged quickly, so eager to please you. He worked his tongue expertly against your clit, circling and lapping at it just the way he knew you loved after many an hour spent with his head between your thighs. Your one hand was clasped over his where it rested flat on your stomach; the other was knotted in Barry’s slightly sweat-damp hair, tugging at the soft strands.
“Ah fuck Barry” you grind against his face as you feel that familiar knot of pleasure build in your core. “Shit, that feels so good” you moan as you throw your head back, your back arching, pushing your pussy harder against Barry’s face.
He hums his agreement and it sends sensational vibrations throughout your entire body, causing another curse to fly from your lips. Your legs start to tremble, your toes curling and digging into his shoulder. He knows you're close so he switches tactics to help push you over the edge. He delves deeper between your folds, his tongue finding its way to your entrance. He licks around your hole a few times before he starts to fuck you hastily with his tongue. He pushes upwards so that his nose connects with your clit. He shakes his head from side to side rapidly, his nose rubbing deliciously over your throbbing clit as his tongue continues to disappear inside your hole.
As the new sensations roll through your body you arch forwards, holding yourself steady with your grip in his hair. He tightens his own grip on your thigh as your whole body starts to shake, your orgasm closing in.
“Ah shit Barry” you whine. “I’m gonna cum” your voice is barely more than a squeak as your body seizes up with pleasure.
Your entire body tightens and then loosens as your orgasm breaks over you. You convulse against Barry’s tongue, your hips jerking raggedly against his face as he laps up your orgasm, his tongue riding out your climax to its fullest potential.
You pant heavily, leaning back to rest against the wall, your grip finally loosening in Barry’s hair. He kisses your pelvic bone, his eyes looking up at you. You keep your eyes on his as he kisses his way up your stomach, kissing each of your breasts before he travels up to your neck. His lips eventually find their way to yours again and you open your mouth obediently, letting him slide his tongue against yours, tasting yourself in his mouth. You both moan into the kiss as you feel his leaking cock push against your inner thigh. He grinds against you for a little while, the head of his dick rubbing between your folds as he continues to kiss you.
“Barry” you whine into his mouth, bucking your hips into him, silently begging him to just get on with it and fuck you.
He smirks into the kiss as he grabs his dick in his hand, angling himself with your dripping core. You both groan in sync as he pushes inside you, slowly sinking himself to the hilt.
He wastes no more time, rutting himself into you repeatedly. He sets a hard and fast pace, fucking you against the wall, practically slamming you against it with each thrust. He hikes your legs up around his waist, holding you by your thighs. You’re now completely reliant on him as he pushes you harder against the wall for support. The new position allows him to push even deeper inside you.
“Fuck y/n, you feel amazing. Always so tight for me” Barry groans into your ear, his teeth pulling at your lobe.
You whine as he hits impossibly deep inside you, the head of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you. Barry leans back, his eyes just watching your face as it twists in pleasure, your mouth hanging open as moans fly free from your lips. His lips are turned almost into a snarl as groans fall just as freely from his mouth.
“You look so fucking beautiful like this, baby. A moaning mess on my cock” he whispers against your lips. “Looked fucking gorgeous out there by the ring as well” he mumbles as his lips move across your jaw, working their way down your neck again.
“How was I ever meant to focus when you were there watching me, looking all pretty, biting your lip like that?” He moans into the crook of your neck.
You moan in response to his words, arching your back and pushing your chest against him, feeling the warmth of him in comparison to the cold of his necklace where it lay trapped between your bodies.
“Fuck, I was thinking about you the whole time, thinking about this” he whines.
“No wonder you couldn’t focus” you breathe, your head thrown back again.
You start to feel the coil tighten in your core again, a burn settling in your lower stomach. Barry keeps up his relentless pace, fucking you into the wall with all his might. his fingers digging painfully into the back of your thighs.
“Barry” you mewl. “I’m close, I’m so close” you cry, your head lolling to the side as his lips find your neck again.
“Me too baby” he coos into your neck. “Let go my love, cum for me” he practically begs.
Your second climax crashes over you as Barry fucks into you harshly, his pace only faltering when he feels how tightly your cunt is convulsing around him. Your toes curl, your legs squeezing around his lower back, keeping him pushed deep inside you. Your nails rake down his skin, leaving angry red marks in your wake, his necklace digs into your chest as you arch into him again.
Your mind was practically spinning as Barry’s hips finally stutter against yours, stilling as his cock pulses within your tight walls, coating them with his release with a loud grunt.
He lifts his head to rest his forehead on yours, both of you just panting, taking a moment to recover and revel in your highs.
You hum a satisfied sigh, lifting your hands to cup his face.
“If only you boxed as you good as you fuck. You wouldn’t need as much training” you break the silence just to tease him.
“Hey!” He pouts, nudging your nose with is.
The two of you just collapse in laughter together.
A/N: This was so impromptu, I literally had the idea and then just wrote it immediately in one go💀 also it was like 3am when I finished this so I did not proofread, I was just so excited to get it posted so I am sorry if there are like a million spelling and grammar mistakes in here lmao, I really hope you guys liked this!!🖤🙈
p.s. I’ve literally never been into fics for actual actors / celebrities before so I wouldn’t expect this to become a common occurrence for me but I guess you never know, we’ll see, I’m just down bad for Barry fr💀😮💨
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falling for the medic at the gym...
ft. boxer!barry & boxer!druig
A/N: I have never loved an AU more than this one.... tagging: @waspswidows, @mothdruid, @redroomproperty thank you for the endless inspiration and motivation for this au
B A R R Y
Barry was smitten the first time he laid eyes on you
walking into the gym with the owner, your laughter cutting through the noise of ceiling fans, music, and sweaty men grunting
he pants as he looked past his trainer, his blue eyes following your every step
"What's got you so distracted," the taller man asked
Barry walked to the ropes, leaning on the side of the ring
"Who's the girl?" he asked in a daze
his trainer rolled his eyes and stood next to him, inspecting the shiny black pads on his hand
"New medic Boss hired for the fights."
"She's pretty," Barry smiled, leaning further
his trainer hit him over the head with the glove
Barry ignored him, his eyes still pinned to you
you turned towards the ring, instantly making eye contact with the boxer
a chill of excitement ran through him as you smiled in his direction
his gloved hand shyly waved at you
"Hi," he mouthed
smiling brighter you responded with the same greeting
you bashfully ducked your head, your eyes still peering up at him
"You ready to train, or are you going to stare at her all day?"
you on the other hand couldn't focus on the rules your boss was giving you
the handsome man with soft brown hair and shining blue eyes in the right captured your attention
it wasn't hard when he looked like that
or when he played it up just to get you to notice him
you finally walked up to the ring, him and his partner shit-talking with one another
"Are you always like that?" you joke
"Only if it keeps you around."
D R U I G
Druig didn't like to be jealous
he just wanted to show up, fight, go home
then Ajak hired you as her second in command
and all the guys wanted you to patch their wounds
Kingo even went around asking people to punch him harder in the ribs so that she'd have to touch him
Druig just rolled his eyes and watched you from afar
he didn't like to admit that he wanted you to fix him after fights
whenever he got the slightest cut, he'd make his way over to you only to be countered by Ajak
"I'll fix that cut, Druig," she would say with a motherly tone, ushering him away
he was jealous of all people you got to help and those who got a few minutes extra of your time just to talk to you
"She's a real guardian angel," Ikaris joked, showing off the bandage you put over his nose
Druig's blood boiled at the thought of your fingers on Ikaris' skin
Druig threw his bloody towel roughly in the hamper, leaving the other guys speechless as he huffed out of the locker room
you were packing up your first aid kit at the end of the night, the cold air biting at your fingers as you placed the kit on the trunk of your car
the back door slammed and you turned to see Druig's bleeding face
"Druig!" you call out, trying not to wince at the sight of his bleeding brow
"Let me clean that up," you tell him
the boxers heart almost stopped as he walked up to you
next thing he knew, he was leaning up against your car
your delicate fingers touching his face
they felt so comforting
"I'm surprised we haven't met like this," you say as you clean his cute
Druig chuckles, "Ajak always gets in my way," he smirked
you rolled your eyes "I'm not surprised," you sigh
he winces as you place a bandage on him
you exhaled "She didn't want me fixing up guys I might fall for, conflict of interest or whatever," you chuckle
he was the only one you hadn't helped after a fight
a blush crept to his cheeks, his fingers touching his now painless cut
"It feels better."
"Well just call me your guardian angel," you joke
"I would like to call you... if that's alright with you?"
you grin at his cheesy play on words, a warmth spreading throughout your body
"As long as we don't tell Ajak."
My little Versailles | Druig × gn!reader
When I tell you I SOBBED writing this I love this song sm. I'm honestly proud of how it came out.
Synopsis: After the events in Tenochitilan (the eternals growing apart), you decide to stand by Druig on his decisions, although it hurt you deep to leave your family, and things didn't work out exactly how you planned.
A/N: I changed the place where Druig went after leaving the eternals so the fic would make sense with the song lyrics! I actually learned something writing this bc I had to do a little research to know the place the song is talking about. I know the whole point of Amazon is that is isolated and all but let's ignore this for a sec.
Warning: lots and lots of angst :), but also soft at the VERY ending of it (as you may notice from now on, I do, in fact, enjoy a lot writing sad things), this one is smaller than I wished for, but it was very emocional for me to write because this song TEARS ME APART.
Word count: 5.6k
(not my gif)
"Did you get enough love, my little dove
Why do you cry?
And I'm sorry I left, but it was for the best
Though it never felt right
My little Versailles."
📍Tenochitilan • 1521 d.C.
A heated argument between your colleagues happened before your eyes. You felt like your world was falling apart and you couldn't do anything about it. Why couldn't everyone stick together for god sakes?
'But she won't be Thena anymore' as you saw Makkari sign at the others.
"What if it happens again? She could've killed you. She could've killed all of us" Kingo says, with probably the most serious tone you ever saw him speak before.
"Please..." begged Thena "Please, I want to remember. I want to remember my life" you were standing by Druig's side. When you saw the pain in her eyes you couldn't hold your tears. When you leaned to hold his hand you felt him tense up once he heard Ajak's words.
"It's not important if you remember or not. Your spirit will remain. You'll always be Thena deep inside". He held your hand tightening the grip, as if he was giving you a silent message that he wasn't controling himself anymore. "Trust me" you heard Ajak whisper. With that. You saw your boyfriend's jaw close strongly. He was about to blow.
"Why should she trust you?" you heard the accent you love so much say. There was a hurt tone on his voice that you could tell he was trying to hide. You feel his hand leaving yours as he takes a step to the side, being now right at the top of the Pyramid stairs. "You're asking her to let you erase who she is." He completed with anger, but still holding up.
"Druig, I know you're upset"
"Upset?" Druig yells. His tone surprising everyone. He looks at Ajak. At that moment you could swear that if looks could kill. She wouldn't be standing there. "We've trusted you for seven thousand years and look where you've gotten us." Your eyes were blurred by the tears while he let out everything he held up for so long, you being the only one who knew every single one of these deep thoughts of his. "I've watched humans destroy eachother, when I could stop it all on a heartbeat. Do you know what that does to someone after centuries? Could our mission have been a mistake? Are we really helping this people build a better world, huh?"
Once he says that you take step to his side and putting a hand on his shoulder as you whisper to him "Dru...". His eyes softened as he looked at you and let out a "Sorry, but I have to do this, my love." He grips your hand back, giving it a gentle squeeze. A reminder that any of that anger he was holding had to do with you, whatsoever. Doing it he let go of you, but you didn't leave his side while he turned to the door right beside him and walked towards the stairs.
You hear his voice again. "We're just like the soldiers out there. Pawns to their leaders. Blinded by loyalty." He takes a pause to glance at you. You nod at him, not quite sure about what were you agreeing with, much less knowing what the hell he was going to do, but it's not like that mattered anyways. You'd follow him wherever.
"It ends now" he says while his eyes shine in a scary golden light. And watch as the soldiers leave their weapons and the desperate screams for help finally stop. You couldn't say you felt a certain relief by the sudden silence, allowing yourself to finally take a deep breath by hearing nothing but the sound of the fire.
On the side of your sight you could glance at Ikaris aiming to touch Druig's shoulder to make him stop what he was doing. You were quick on grabbing his forearm and pushing him to the wall by your side as fast as you could. Although you hated turn on your family like this. Druig was your everything. As much as you were everything to him.
Still with teary eyes you stare angrily at Ikaris while he turns his look at Druig's direction and spits out "let them go." before the mind controller could answer to it, you stared at Ikaris deep in the eyes "If you want to stop this. You're gonna have to kill me."
And with that. You both went your unknown way without the Eternals. Togheter.
You knew you were safe with him. And different from the rest of the team, you agreed with his thoughts about humans. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt you leaving your family like this, specially leaving Thena while she was struggling against the Mad Wy'ry and doing nothing about it. Still. You followed him.
"Well you do enough talk
My little halk, why do you cry?
Tell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn?
Or the Fourth of July?
We're all gonna die"
📍Oregon Coast Range, 1933
"The Great Fire hadn’t destroyed the trees. It had merely killed them, leaving them standing as massive snags that, each summer, got drier and more flammable."
After the both of you left. You went to the Tillamook forest, a place that for some reason, Druig seemed to be found with. And you we're pretty much okay with it. Since you had him. Where you were living wasn't exactly a matter to you.
After centuries of building a life at this place. A misterious fire grew out of the trees. Taking everything you had in the blink of an eye. Not even you could stop it. It was too much.
Now, you both saw yourselves on a dead end. Again side by side. Watching as the fire took away long years of history. The scene seemed to be bringing back memories.
You sat besides your partner in complete silence, watching as the the loud fire took the place of the trees, that were long dried and nearly lifeless. Just standing in there. Waiting for the right moment to fall. You put your head on his shoulder, still silent.
You could hear Druig's light sobs while now touching him, and that made your heart break into a million pieces. The world was now like this, just as he was now, hopeless. While nations struggled with the Great Depression and he saw humans as they sunk themselves on a pile of crisis and death. The first world war had just happened. And specially considering the time you both lived, it was all pretty recent to you, too much new weapons, too much cruelty. All too much. You were now forced to see your beloved humans live the consequences of it. Of their own creations and ambition. And there was nothing you could do about it. Not anymore.
The nature was crumbling, falling apart. And now, just like many other spots around the globe it was happening to your home. The place both of you struggled to protect, were promises were made and dreams were built. It was all down on flames. Tillamook was burning.
"We'll start over" you said to him, wanting to sound as hopeful as you could, but not really sure if you made it. "Togheter" you saw him trying to smile to you as he nodded. You heard a quiet, yet so sweet "Yes, my love" come out of his lips. Making you smile. "Togheter".
At least you had each other.
And that would never change.
"Shall we look at the moon, my little loon
Why do you cry?
Make the most of your life, while it is rife
While it is light"
treating his wounds after a longer and rougher match up
literally puppy dog eyes and hissing sounds when you try to use sanitizer to clean the bloody knuckles
but being cocky af the next minute
" you should wear a nurse outfit next time. "
" would love to bend you over and fuck you in that skimpy dress. "
being his good luck charm in the stands
fucks you in the middle of the ring after a won fight
" can't imagine how bad i wanted to fuck you when i saw you in the stands"
" jumping around with your perfect tits on display"
" almost got me hard in the middle of the fight "
overprotective boyfriend material!!!!
wants to throw a fight as soon as someone's gaze lingers on you
" what'cha looking at, huh?"
" keep your fucking eyes of my girl or i'll make sure you won't use them again."
spitting in front of their feet after throwing threats
being the only person that can truly calm him down
like a look in your eyes, reading all those emotions and that man gets weak
watching his training sessions in the gym
barry being goofy while trying to impress you with his moves
flirting with you from the ring like you weren't already his girl
" what'cha doing tonight, beautiful? "
" grab a drink with me. "
cheeky winks and smug smirks!!
eating you out before an important match
" your taste's my lucky charm out there. "
" when i'm done i'll need to fuck this pretty pussy. "
(those just totally came into my mind and idk, there will be added more and more because this lives 24/7 in my head :) )
i loved your druig fluff but how about some angst where he and the reader fight because the reader is a mortal?
Of love and gashes
Druig x gn!reader
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: mention of wounds and scars, angst
A/N: sooo this got super long but as soon as i started writing, i just couldn't stop aksjdals i hope you enjoy this! <33 (and sorry for any broken hearts after this)
It all started with a particularly nasty gash from an animal you were hunting in the forest. You immediately walked to the healer of the village after the successful hunt. Not long after you arrived, Druig came rushing into the little hut. Once he spotted you, he practically ran to your side and examined the wound the healer was currently wrapping.
The gash ran through your entire forearm and hurt like hell. Luckily, it wasn’t too deep but it still caused both you and, from what you can tell, Druig to be extremely concerned by it. Those stormy blue eyes of his met yours and you gave him a pained smile.
“Are you okay?” He asked, his eyes shining a faint gold. You could feel him in your mind, giving you waves of calm that you were grateful for.
“I’m okay, my love. It’s just a gash, I’ll be fine.” You held his arm and gave it a squeeze, hoping to alleviate his panic.
As an Eternal, it’s at moments like these where Druig remembers just how fragile you and your overall mortality are. That gash could quickly become an infection and, if not treated quickly, it could become a fatal wound. Druig didn’t want to think about it, but it was always at the back of his mind.
After the healer declared that they were done dressing the wound, Druig pulled you into a tight hug, being mindful of your arm. You hugged him back, burying yourself in his chest. His familiar scent entered your nose and helped you relax. You stayed in that position for a while, in each other’s arms – basking in the presence of the other.
Over the next few days, you noticed how protective Druig has been. Always not too far from you, like a moth attracted to a flame. You expected him to do this, of course you did. Whenever anything harmful happened to you, the Eternal would always stay by your side the next few days. But somehow, this was different.
One day, as you were preparing for another hunt, Druig accompanied your hunting group, something he rarely does. It’s been a month since the accident happened, but Druig kept hovering near you and now he was joining you in your hunt. You didn’t mind that Druig joined the hunt; however, he started putting you on the back burner, telling your fellow hunters to take the kill instead of you.
As the hunt progressed, you slowly got more and more annoyed at Druig’s actions. So, before he could say anything about it, you drew back your bowstring and struck an arrow straight into a deer’s heart. It whizzed past Druig’s body and barely missed him so he turned around to see who shot the arrow. His eyes met your rageful ones as you placed back your bow on your back.
Druig opened his mouth but didn’t manage to say anything as you quickly turned around and ran back to the village. He mumbled a curse as he saw your back run off. Turning to the other hunters, Druig called the hunt off and ran after you.
He couldn’t find you in the village so he went to the only other place you could be. Pushing back a branch, there you were, seated on stones and your legs submerged in the pond’s waters, your bow laying on the grass. Druig approached you and sat beside you, placing his legs under the water as well.
“What are you doing here, Druig?” You asked, voice cold but an undercurrent of hurt still resonated in it. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but you felt his eyes on you.
“I’m sorry, my beautiful, for my actions. But I promise I was only trying to protect you.” He placed a tentative hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off, letting out a scoff.
“Protect me.” Sarcasm dripped off your voice as you recalled the past month after you got that nasty gash. Nothing more than a scar now.
“Druig, for the past month you have been stopping me from doing the most mundane tasks. For the first few days, I understood that. I knew that my body needed rest but as soon as the healer cleared me, I thought you would let me do my tasks again.” Tears gathered in your eyes from the pent up frustration that’s been building up. The knuckles of your hand turned white at how tightly you were gripping the rocks you were sitting on.
“I’m a hunter, Dru. One of the best hunters this village has, but you’ve been putting me off from hunting for so long. And during the hunt today, you didn’t even let me get my own kill.” Finally, you looked into those stormy blue eyes of his. Conflict, concern, and hurt present in them.
“Love, why are you being like this?” You finally asked, exhaustion seeped deep into your bones. The weight you’ve been carrying for a few weeks was finally off your chest.
“I really am just trying to protect you.” His voice strained, as if he was holding himself from saying anything more.
“No, Druig. That’s not just it, I know there’s something more to it. Just say it, please.” You felt that he was still hiding something from you, something you knew should be addressed before it all becomes too much. Rage flared in Druig’s eyes.
“You want to know the truth?” He grabbed your forearm and pointed at the bumpy scar.
“This may nothing be more than a scar to you, but to me, it’s an ever present reminder of your mortality. To me, it’s a ticking clock that reminds me of the limited time we already have that could be cut even shorter if you aren’t careful.” He let go of your arm, voice shaky but anger still present in his eyes. You knew that anger wasn’t directed at you but emotions can cloud rational thinking so it still hurt.
“But you can’t stop me from living my life!” Exasperation blossomed in you, the past month coalescing into this.
“If you don't want to be reminded of our limited time, then why don’t you just leave?” You regretted your words as soon as they left your mouth but your pride didn’t allow you to take them back. Druig flinched at what you said, so unnoticeable that if you blink, you would have missed it.
For a moment, there was only silence between the two of you. The natural sounds of the forest filling in the emptiness. Then Druig said the words he’ll forever regret.
“Fine, I’ll leave.” He stood up from the pond, turned around, and left.
You watched him go, there was no hesitancy in his body as he walked away. Tears freely fell from your eyes now as you let out a heart-wrenching sob. You brought your knees up and cried into them, wishing to take it all back.
As Druig walked back to his hut, he was crying too. Right from where it all started, he wished he could take it back.
Maybe that’s when you got a gash on your heart, something that not even the healer can fix. It would scar over one day, but that day wouldn’t come for a long while. So for now, you walked around the village with a bleeding heart with no one to tend to it.
And Druig watched you from the sidelines, hoping to one day be the one to heal your broken heart.
But that wouldn’t come for a long time. And time, well, time was everything.