#i spent so much time agreeing with her and lying to agree with her

[tiredeyes1975]

now that im not busy i have too much time to #mull things over

[peachessndreamss]

Weirwood Tree

Summery : While in labour with their second child, Cregan and his wife take s short walk to the Weirwood tree to help get things moving.

Characters : Cregan Stark x f!wife reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings : Pregnancy and childbirth (nothing explicit)

Word count : 3k

A/N : Turns out you never shake being a Stark girl, Ily Cregan so much.

“I’m sorry t’say it, my lady, but your labours have slowed up,” the midwife said softly as she drew the sheets back over Lady Starks bent knees before dipping her hands in a bowl of water. 

“Slowed up?” Lady Stark repeated incredulously, dropping her head back on the feather pillow, “but it's been hours already,” she added, tears burning her eyes. 

The second child of Lord Cregan stark and his lady wife was in no rush to make their way into the world. Despite the frequency and strength of her earlier pains once the midwife and maester had been sent for, everything seemed to have come to an uncomfortable halt.  

The midwife had brought her ancient grandmother along with her, known through Winterfell and the winter town as Auld Joan, she had been a midwife in her own time and had delivered Cregan's father and uncle. She was mostly blind and deaf now but still attended births but spent most of the time sitting as close to a heat source as possible and dispensing wisdom if necessary. She was currently sitting in a chair next to the roaring fire, her ancient hands clasped on her lap, knuckles bulging out of shape and fingers curled like claws. 

“I know it's been a while,” the midwife said soothingly, placing a warm hand on Lady Stark's knee, “but sometimes it's just like this,”. 

“The last one wasn't like this,” Lady Stark grumbled, her mood darkening as she tried to shift around into a more comfortable position. 

“You mustn't compare one with another,” the midwife soothed before touching a cold cloth to the lady's forehead. 

“A walk will geyit moving ,” the old woman wheezed from her seat by the fire, “no’ this lying about,”. 

The maester, who had been mostly disinterested in proceedings up until this point shot the old woman a dark look, he was standing in the far corner of the room, a leather case of vicious metal tools clutched jealously to his chest. His grey robes matched his grey and sickly looking skin. He wasn't particularly interested in births or deaths or the everyday ailments of life and resented being summoned to the birthing room of any woman. 

“This position is agreed upon as being the correct way for labouring mothers,” he said coldly in a clipped southern accent. 

“Agreed by men who know nothing about it,” the crone grumbled. 

“What does she mean?” Lady Stark asked the midwife who was now gently feeling the swell of the lady's belly. 

“Baby's not quite in righ’ place, that's why things have slowed,” she explained as she pressed on the left side of the belly, Lady Stark winced, “but grandmother thinks a little walk might get things moving again,”. 

The midwife glanced over at her grandmother who had closed her eyes and was now looking peaceful in the flickering light of the fire, she looked back at her lady and dabbed the cloth over her cheeks before putting it back beside the bowl of cold water. 

“What do you think?”Lady Stark asked. 

She shrugged, making a point not to look towards the maester before replying. 

“It helped me with mine, and it wouldn't do you any harm,”. 

The maester opened his mouth to disagree and lady stark held up her hand to silence him. 

“Just walking through the keep, out into the godswood for the fresh air should do it,” the midwife continued. 

The lady nodded and lifted herself up onto her elbows, she addressed the maester, privately enjoying ordering the sour faced man about. 

“Lord Cregan is outside the door, fetch him in,” she said. 

Cregan Stark had paced the halls outside of his wife's rooms since he'd been asked to leave them several hours before. While he wasn't accustomed to being removed from parts of his own castle he respected that father's, even lords, were not expected to be present at the births of their children,so he was surprised to hear the door opening when he was fairly certain nothing much had happened yet. 

“My Lord?” The voice of the maester echoed off the walls as the lord strode into view, “your wife would like to see you,”. 

He nodded, his face stern as he stepped past the man and into the warm, dark room. 

“Seven Hells,” he murmured as he pulled at the collar of his shirt, instantly feeling the heat of the room rolling over him like a wave, sweat breaking out on his forehead and upper lip. 

As he looked around the room he was surprised to see the midwife helping his wife into her fur boots, a long, heavy cloak already covering her shoulders. 

“Going somewhere?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

She turned her flushed face to him and smiled. 

“Yes, we're going for a walk,”. 

Cregan’s brows rose but he nodded without further comment, knowing better than to ask questions.  He watched nervously as the midwife helped his wife to her feet, ready to spring forward at any moment if it looked like Lady Stark might lose her balance. 

Once he was happy she was safely on her feet, Cregan stepped towards them, offering his arm to his wife, who took a small step and linked her arm through his. 

“Twice around the godswood’ll do it,” Auld Joan spoke from the chair, she opened one ancient eye that could just be seen through the folds of skin that made up her face. 

“Or as far as you need’t,” the midwife added, her eyes flicking towards the maester. 

From the darkest corner of the room the maester muttered under his breath “foolishness” but no one else could hear him or pay him a moment's more attention. 

As the Lord and Lady of Winterfell stepped out of the stifling room and into the cooler corridor of the keep they both gave a sigh of relief. As they walked they instinctively drew closer to one another. Finding comfort and strength in each other's presence. 

“This is an unexpected pleasure,” Cregan said as they stepped through the door of the keep and into the much colder air of the inner bailey. The ground was a mess of mud, straw, snow and grey brown slush that cracked and crunched under their boots. 

“Yes,” she agreed, her hand tightening on his arm as her foot slipped a little on a patch of hidden ice, “Auld Joan felt this would be the best way to get things moving again,”. 

Cregan nodded, “She's seen a fair few babes born in her time, she knows what she's talking about,” he paused and took a deep breath of cold air, “I think she might have even delivered my grandfather,”. 

“Surely not!” She exclaimed, looking up at her husband's handsome profile, “that would make her more than a hundred years old,”. 

“I've heard of stranger things in these parts,” Cregan said with a shrug. 

They walked quietly together, moving slowly and carefully through the slush.

“Not as easy as last time then?” He asked as they made their way past the archery butts where the young men of the household were practising and past the stables with their snorting horses and young boys shovelling straw. 

“No, this one seems to have an obstinate Stark streak in them already,” she replied with a soft laugh that sounded like music to Cregan's ears. 

“I seem to recall your own family are known for their stubbornness so I won't be taking all the responsibility for that,”. 

“Pigheadedness, I believe my father called it,” she replied with a laugh, Cregan gave his own snort of laughter. 

“Your father certainly has a way with words,” he agreed. Recalling a few choice phrases her father had used for him during their courtship. 

As the pair crossed into the godswood the sounds of the keep and the town beyond the walls seemed to fade away and they became the only two people in the world. The ground was covered in a dusting of snow which had frozen overnight and now crunched under foot. From the dark canopy of the trees small birds sang between themselves and bounced from branch to branch, leaves rusting and falling to the ground in their wake. 

“Aly is worried we won't have enough time for her when the baby arrives,” Lady Stark said as they passed under the first dark boughs, “she kept asking me if we were going to send her away when I was putting her to bed last night,”. 

“She's a sensitive soul,” Cregan replied with a soft laugh, his mind wandering to the little girl who was at that moment playing in the same nursery he played in as a child, waiting for his own younger sibling to be born. 

“I dread the day we do need to send her away,” she lamented, drawing her body even closer to his in the cold air. Her free hand resting low on the swell of her belly. 

“We've many years before that day, my love,” he soothed, “and perhaps many more babes to fill our home,”. 

Lady Stark laughed softly, feeling the dull ache of her labours growing in strength as they followed the well known path through the trees.

“You are insatiable, always wanting more,” she said softly and Cregan laughed. 

They had been married 6 years and now were as comfortable with one another as any married couple could expect to be. Having been friends before they’re union had made things easier but the months after Cregan’s return from war had tested them to their limits. The time spent apart had been long and difficult for the both of them, when Cregan had left he was already old beyond his years but on his return he was darker and colder than the longest winter night. He’d forgotten laughter, softness and gentleness and his first few months back in Winterfell had been fraught as the two learned to live with one another again and find their way back to the happiness they’d briefly shared before the dragons tore the realm apart. 

The followed a well trodden path through the woods, her arm wrapped tightly through his and his hand resting over hers, warm and solid. As they walked, Cregan listened to her breathing, noticing every change to her breath and hitch in her voice. He was ready to take her in his arms at any moment to rush her back to the midwife if was necessary. 

They turned a corner in the path and were now on course to the weirwood tree, its ancient face seemed to watch their approach and its blood red leaves reflected in the black water at its roots. 

Suddenly Lady Stark stopped, her free hand going to her belly with a sharp intake of breath, she groaned, her teeth biting into her top lip as a strong contraction wracked her body. Cregan tightened his hold on her, fear gripping at his heart and twisting his stomach. 

After a few seconds of pain her face relaxed and her eyes opened, her cheeks were flushed with colour and despite the cold there was sweat at her hair line. 

“I think this might be working,” she said with a small smile, “or perhaps the baby can feel the tree,” she added, glancing toward the weirwood. 

“A good Stark then,” Cregan replied, forcing a lightness in his voice he didn’t feel. 

She stepped toward the tree and he followed her closely, never letting her more than an arm's reach from him. Once close enough she placed her hands on the tree, feeling the rough bark rasp against her skin. 

“Do you think the old kings of the north were born under this tree?” she asked, turning her face up as a shaft of wintery sunlight broke through the dense leaf cover, “snow and leaves for their midwife?”.

Cregan raised his eyebrow in thought for a moment before replying. 

“They were certainly conceived under it,” he smiled.   

“Yes, I remember the stories,” she agreed, turning to look at her husband and seeing the playful glimmer in his eyes. 

During the long months of the war she’d found comfort in the thousands of books in the Winterfell library, starting with the histories of the North going all the way back to the first men and how those ancient kings of the North did everything important in their lives in sight of a weirwood tree, they were born, married, made oaths and died as close to the trees as they possibly could. The histories had included stories of rituals the ancient peoples had contrived to conceive their children under the boughs of the weirwood trees, they believed these children would have the gifts of prophecy or live impossibly long lives because the powers of the tree flowed through them. 

“Perhaps, when you’re healed, we should try it ourselves,” Cregan teased. 

“When this one is delivered I’ll let you know if you’ll be welcome in my bed again,” she replied with a sly smile, before adding “my lord,”. 

Cregan gave a bark-like laugh, stepping closer to her and slipping his arm over her lower back and around her waist. She turned to face him, moving her hands from the ancient and cold bark of the tree to the living warmth of his shoulders, she studied his features before taking a deep breath and letting her forehead press against his. Another contraction wracked her body, she groaned and gripped tightly at the fur and wool of his cloak, taking strength from his body into her own. 

“I think we need to go back,” she said softly, their foreheads still pressed together. 

“I think so,” he agreed without hesitation.

Keeping his arm wrapped around her waist the two of them turned, she leaned heavily on Cregan as they completed the loop around the godswood and headed back through the castle courtyard. The space now almost completely empty as most of the household had been summoned for the midday meal. 

The progress was slow but they soon made it back to Lady Stark’s chambers, the room was cooler now, the windows had been thrown open but the coverings drawn across them to keep the room dark. The two women were sitting by the fire, talking quietly while the maester was still standing in the corner of the room, glaring. 

The midwife jumped to her feet and took Lady Stark’s arm, allowing her to slip from Cregan’s hold and move toward the bed. 

“How are you feeling my lady?” the midwife asked softly. 

“It helped, the pains are coming much more quickly now,” the lady replied. 

“Baby will be here soon,” the midwife agreed, “perhaps before the noon meal is over,”

Lady Stark glanced over her shoulder at her husband pausing by the door. His broad shoulders blocked out almost all of the hallway behind him.

“I want you to stay,” she said softly as she was helped back onto the bed. 

He smiled but shook his head. 

“This is not my place” he said softly, as he felt a burning sensation at the back of his throat and in his eyes as he fought the sudden overwhelm of emotions. 

“Thank you, my lord,” the old crone said from her seat, “we’ll take care of them,”.

Cregan nodded, knowing well enough when he was being asked to leave, he gave his wife a final look before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind himself and resuming his pacing. He wondered if his own father had paced nervously or if he had taken to the woods to hunt until the deed was over with and the child was cleaned and neatly wrapped in a blanket. He couldn’t imagine being any further than the castle gate while Lady Stark laboured. 

As the midwife predicted the midday meal hadn’t finished before there was the high pitched, squalling cry of a newborn that caused Cregan to stop in his tracks and lean heavily against the wall of the hallway, his hand clutching at his heart that was beating fast enough to burst. 

The door to the chambers opened and the midwife stepped out, a smile on her face as she saw her lord in a moment of unguarded emotion. 

 “A son, my lord, hale and hearty and with plenty to say for himself,” she said, the sounds of the crying child still coming clearly from the room behind her. 

“God's be praised,” Cregan said, his voice cracking with emotion. 

“Come meet him,”. 

Cregan felt his knees turn to water when he stepped into Lady Stark's rooms, the sight of his beloved wife cradling a squalling newborn was a joy that pierced his heart like an arrow. 

“Your son, my lord” she said with a tired smile, turning the bundle just enough for Cregan to be able to see the child's face. 

He stooped and took the child, cradling him close to his chest, for a few seconds the child stopped wailing, his blue eyes opening wide and taking in his first sight of his father. The two of them looked at each other for a few seconds, Cregan's own eyes filling with tears. One hot tear was about to track down Cregan's face when the baby in his arms screwed his eyes shut, opened his mouth and started to howl, his cries even more desperate than before. 

Lady Stark laughed from her seat on the bed, holding her arms out to take the child back. 

“Give him back, you're upsetting our son,” she said, grinning at Cregan who jealously clung onto the child, rocking him gently and trying to sooth the screaming babe. 

“Sorry my boy,” Cregan said softly, “but you'll just have to get used to me,”.

[lady-ashfade]

Hi! I loved your comfort goddess post! If your still taking requests, could you do one where Fem! Motherly Goddess reader is the wife of Ares and watches over his children with intense care. Especially Clarissa (if your comfortable with adding a dash of favoritism with Clarissa lol). And the Ares kids are possessive of their Motherly Goddess even though she literally only cares for them at the camp and how the other campers see this. ^^ thank you!!

Divine Mother

Yandere Ares!Cabin x Stepmother!Goddess!reader. (Platonic!!)

-£ Warnings: Yandere Tendencies, Reader taking care of her child, Cheating, Obsession, Jealousy, Fighting.

Many centuries ago you had be punished for your husbands doings.

Ares had upset Hephaestus by having a affair with his wife, Aphrodite. and you knew your husbands actions but you cared little about them, because his attention wasn’t on you. and you didn’t hate Aphrodite for it and you actually liked her, even had tea meetings with her at times.

Hephaestus was so upset he was going crazy in anger, so Zeus needed to punish his son. And that meant with you because he knew how much his son cared for you. So, you were sent to watch over the demo gods with Dionysus.

You spent years caring for all the children of your family and cared for them.

And for centuries it was Ares kids who took up most of your time. Their anger and hotheaded nature made your attention be placed on them mostly.

No matter what time it was, your husbands children need something.

When Clarisse came in things took a heavy turn. They became more needy and clingy to you that you constantly had to break fights they had started.

They seek your praise more then their fathers.

Asking for your blessing each capture of the flag, every fight, every mission, anything they need.

“Did you see that?” One of the younger children ran up to you with armor half the size of himself. “I would have killed him if it wasn’t a dummy.” You just patted his head and gave him the slight bit of praise.

But, Clarisse. She was at your side almost always. Even fighting with her siblings for you and she didn’t care. She was better then them.

When Percy arrived at camp she couldn’t believe her ears when you agreed with the stories of him killing the minotaur. how dare he? he wasn’t special and worth nothing to have you talk about him.

she hated him so much more and wanted nothing more then to have him say he was lying so she could drag him to you. and have him bow at your feet to apologize.

He was a fake.

Any bad emotions you could sense them. So when you felt a overwhelming sense in the bathrooms in camp you followed to find out what was happening. That’s when heard a loud noise.

Rushing in you see three of them on the floor and the new kid in the stall, door broke and water overflowing throughout the place. Clarisse was soaked and looked like she was about to attack him, you knew she was probably causing problems before you came in.

“Clarisse,” Your stern voice echoed through the place and made everyone turn to you and their faces worried. “What did you do?” You glanced at the two beside her as you crossed your arms.

they tried to explain but you grabbed them and started to scold them and take them back to their cabin. a goddess yelling at you was scary. and having the one who is know for her calmness was even scarier.

the whole cabin was out for Percy when capture of the flag came but Clarisse and her team were going for him. he made them look like fools in front of their mother? he was a dead man.

[dumbseee]

oh shit.

pro hero!bakugo who has a crush on you.

pro hero!bakugo katsuki x idol!reader.

genre: fluff

__

- the first time bakugo agreed to do an interview was because todoroki and izuku were also there. the top three heroes were asked all sorts of questions before the journalist finally asked thee question. "so~ you guys are so private, we don’t really know much about you. so let’s get to know our top three heroes! first question, who is your celebrity crush?" she asked, a smirk on her lips as she looked at the three heroes in front of her. izuku blushed, fumbling with his answer, todoroki crossed his arms on his chest, saying that he had no time for that kind of stuff, and bakugo scoffed, crossing his legs on the small table in front of them. "celebrity crush? do you have other shitty questions or are we done?" he glared at the interviewer who nearly melted on the spot. izuku elbowed his friend and offered an awkward smile to the poor woman. "but aren’t you a big fan of y/n? i heard you sing her songs under the shower, one time." shoto chimed in, face blank. "what?! no! what are you saying ice hot?! i’ll fucking crush your face, come here!" bakugo jumped from his seat and had to be restrained by izuku and a few security guards, meanwhile shoto sat there, wondering what he did wrong this time.

- the interview went viral, with everyone making fun of the mighty dynamight and his little crush on you. he nearly sent shoto to the moon after seeing all those edits of you and him on social media or your fans calling him the president of the fandom. your fans are even shipping you together! and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t like it. he actually made a fake twitter and tiktok account where he’d like and favourite every single edit/tweet about you. he’d be smiling and blushing like a high schooler in the dark of his room.

- he has a locked drawer in his room, where he keeps all your albums and merch. he’d literally set on fire whoever manage to open it and discover his little secret.

- he spent hours in front of his phone, the screen showing your dm page on instagram, he wanted to dm you so bad. make the first move and try to get close to you, but bakugo was a coward, as funny as it sounded, bakugo was very intimidated by you. he ended up throwing his phone away, he’d try again tomorrow.

- one day he got called for an incident involving a woman and someone who tried to break into her house. nothing major so bakugo went alone, imagine his shock when he saw that the victim was you and the man was your stalker who’s been following you and harassing you for months. he immediately saw red and grabbed the man, slammed him to the ground and threatened to shove a bomb down his ass if he moved. "are you okay?" when you saw dynamite arrive from your window, you immediately ran outside, since you felt safe with the hero around. you hugged yourself and nodded, looking down at the shaking man, but bakugo didn’t believe you. soon enough, police arrived to arrest the man and everyone left, leaving you alone with bakugo. "he’ll leave you alone now, i’ll make sure of it." he smiled gently, putting a hand on your shoulder you forced a smile but slowly lost it when you saw him getting ready to leave. you quickly grabbed his hand and looked at him with pleading eyes, the sight made his heart jump. "please, will you stay with me?" how could he say no?

- bakugo couldn’t get rid of the pink color decorating his cheeks. it was the first time he met his celebrity crush and bakugo wished it was different. he wished he came earlier so you wouldn’t even be aware that your stalker was trying to break into your home. you offered him some food and water but he declined everything, you were getting ready for bed when the incident happened so you were exhausted from practice and rehearsal. you also felt bad for keeping him with you when he was clearly busy or tired from patrolling. "i’m so sorry for bothering you, i know he won’t come back, but i’m still terrified." you played with your hand and felt tears burning your eyes. "don’t. you don’t have to be ashamed for feeling scared, but trust me when i say this, this bastard won’t ever come close to you again." he said it in such a low tone, you thought you imagined it. you nodded and hugged him, which surprised him to no end and also made him as red as a tomato. he didn’t know what to do with his hands so he simply put them around your waist, gently patting your back.

- you fell asleep with the light on, bakugo was sitting on the chair next to your bed and kept his eye on you. he stayed with you till the sun woke up. he noticed every detail of your face, the small freckles decorating your beautiful nose, your long and dark lashes, your full and soft lips and overall your beautiful face. you were, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman bakugo had ever seen in his life. while looking at you, he felt a weird sense of possessiveness and protection wash over him. he wanted to protect you and make sure no one would ever hurt you again.

- when you woke up, you saw a small note on your nightstand, "had to leave for work pretty girl, but don’t worry i’ll see you soon. here’s my number: xxx - xxx - xxx" you didn’t know why but you smiled at his note. of course, you immediately registered his number and sent him a lovely text, thanking him again for yesterday and inviting him for dinner some day. you also signed it "your celebrity crush (;" bakugo almost choke on his coffee when he read your text.

[yzzart]

a revelation between songs.

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: you, Tom and Rachel had an idea to create playlists for your characters.

word count: 593!

notes: inspired by an interview where Rachel says that she and Tom created playlists for their characters, and i recommend the song i mentioned because i was listening to it while writing!

"Well, i heard that you created playlists for your respective characters…" — The interviewer, who was incredibly dynamic, commented. — "… and it's true?"

"Oh yeah!" — Rachel responded with an enthusiastic smile and nodding her head, wanting to complement and talk about the topic presented. — "We created our playlist during the first few days of recording, right?" — She asked, resting one of her hands on her chin.

"Right!" — You replied with a complicity smile. — "We were so excited about the idea, that we didn't even wait for the opening day." — And it was a suggestion that brought you all closer together and created in your minds what the characters' musical tastes would be.

And to this day none of you have finished them because every day you add a new song.

"Exactly!" — Rachel concluded. — "I think it's technically impossible to choose one but "Hunter" by Florence + The machine is addictive and very good." — The interviewer nodded in agreement and paid attention to every word.

"One of the first songs i added to my playlist was "Do you love" by machineheart." — You tilted your head to wonder if it was correct. — "Yeah, she was one of the first and she became my favorite." — The interviewer agrees, crossing her legs and eager for an explanation. — "I feel like the lyrics clarify my character's emotions."

"I'm pretty sure i have it on my playlist too." — Tom stuttered thoughtfully and resting his arm on the back of the chair accompanied by a complicity look in his direction. — "Like, seriously." — He laughed.

"Do not tell me!" — You pretended to be surprised and finding the coincidence incredible, and trying, as much as possible and with all your strength, not to laugh at the situation.

Meanwhile, the interviewer found it funny, even without understanding and believing in the possible and concrete coincidence, and Rachel looked at the two of you with her mouth open. — Knowing, deep down, that it was a joke.

"They spent the entire recording session listening to each other's playlists." — She revealed, laughing, putting her hand over her mouth. — "Every time i went to Spotify, with that function to see the songs your friends were listening to, i saw Tom listening to Y/n's playlist and she listening to his playlist."

"No way!" — The interviewer joined.

"I swear!" — Rachel exclaimed; the only thing you did, seeing that you had no way to justify or defend yourself, was to put your hand over your mouth and Tom placed one of his hands on your thigh.

Rachel wasn't lying or exaggerating; since the beginning of the recordings along with the idea of playlists, there was no other playlist, not even the ones you created, that you listened to the most besides Tom's. — There were so many songs with the presence of the small and typical green heart. — At any time, anywhere, you listened to that playlist; like Tom did with you.

Tom would share photos, screenshots with your playlist or any of the songs included in it in the background for you. — Tom even listened to them while driving his motorcycle.

"I strongly consider it a love language." — The British accent echoed confidently throughout the decorated room, his hand was still on your thigh and now making a pleasant caress. — His eyes admired your radiant smile.

You hugged his clothed arm and rested his head, gently and gently, on his shoulder; a wave of comfort and protection entered your belly. — Quickly, Tom rested his head on your.

"Very romantic, very romantic." — You said, laughing softly and with red cheeks, a little embarrassed.

[bueckers]

UNFINISHED BUSINESS ━━━ paige bueckers ( 2 )

synopsis: putting an end to everything, drea thinks she’s totally and completely done with paige bueckers. that is until the blonde is finally honest with her.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem oc

warnings: angst and smut. they’re so toxic but also like made for each other.. alcohol use, scissoring, fingering, lots of paige’s hands.

notes: another long one so there wasn’t any major cliffhangers, hopefully this makes up for the wait.. :) also a paige & flau’jae feature because i love them sm.

The morning sunlight filters through the hotel curtains, and she’s sitting at the edge of the bed. I can feel the space next to me where she was lying, still warm but empty now. She’s moving around, getting dressed, and I’m fighting the urge to reach out and pull her back into bed. But I know I shouldn’t.

“You don’t have to go yet,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. It’s more of a plea than an offer, and I hate how desperate I sound. I can see her hesitate, her back to me as she fiddles with her shirt. For a second, I think she might stay, but then she turns to face me, and I can see the determination in her eyes. Why was it so difficult for me to just say it?

“Except I do. We never actually talked… if you missed that part,” she says, and I try to ignore the slight raise in her voice.

In attempt to busy myself, I grab my shirt from off the ground and pull it over my head. “The whole point of last night was to avoid that, Drea. We ain’ gotta talk about it.” I respond, and I’m only half joking, but I still wince at how much of a dick I sound.

She’s serious, and instead of agreeing or starting an argument, she ignores it. “Look,” she starts, and I can see her struggling to find the right words, her eyes glued to the bedsheets. Not me. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to say anything, that I get it, she deserved an explanation. But I don’t want to make it easy for her. Not when I know this is probably the last time we’re going to be like this.

“Last night.. it shouldn’t have happened.”

I furrow my eyebrows. "You don’t gotta say that. It’s not like we didn’t both want it,” I huff out.

She looks at me a certain way, and I can tell she hasn’t put much thought into what she’s saying. But she’s saying it anyway. "That’s not what I mean," she says quickly, like she’s trying to fix it. "I’m not saying I didn’t want it. I just… I shouldn’t have let things get so deep between us. How things ended.. it’s my fault.”

Her fault? She shouldn’t have let things get so deep? Theres no way she means these things, right? She stands there, biting her lip, and I know she’s waiting for me to say something. My throat feels tight, and my mind is a mess. I’m caught between wanting to shout at her, to tell her how wrong she is, and just shutting down completely.

This is Drea. The one person who’s always known how to get under my skin, in ways both good and bad. And now, while she’s standing right in front of me, telling me she regrets how deep we got, that basically, she thinks I cut her off because she caught feelings, I can’t help but feel like a fool. I spent so much time convincing myself that she didn’t feel the way I did, that I’d imagined the whole thing. Now it turns out she was in it too. And I don’t know what to do with that.

I wanna tell her to stop, to not say anything more. But I can’t let myself be that vulnerable, not when I’ve spent so long trying to protect whatever pieces of myself I have left. This is, like, the biggest joke of my life, and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

When I finally do speak, my voice comes out quieter than I expect, almost detached. “So, what now? We just pretend none of this ever mattered?”

Drea’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see something flicker in them—regret, maybe, or doubt. It seems like this is the most straightforward conversation we’ve had about the way we actually feel, and everything’s coming to light and an end at the same time. Just as quickly, she pushes it away, her expression hardening, and it makes every dot in my mind connect. “I’m not saying it didn’t matter. It did. That’s why we need to stop.” She’s trying so hard to be the rational one, to be the one who ends this cleanly. But nothing about this is clean.

I nod slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Fine. If that’s what you want.” God, I even sound bitter.

She looks at me like she’s searching for something—maybe a reason to stay, or maybe just confirmation that this is the right choice. But then she sighs, her shoulders sagging with the weight of it all, and I know nothing, at least in this moment, would change her mind about me.

“Please take care of yourself.” She kept me grounded when I couldn’t find my footing, and those words just feel so cruel. It sounded like we’d never be speaking again, and I hated that thought.

I nod, unable to trust my voice, and then she’s gone. And just like that, it’s over. Or at least, it’s supposed to be.

A few days pass in a blur, and my time in Phoenix is slowly coming to an end. It’s safe to say the events of the city had only temporarily kept my mind off of everything, and now I’m sitting in a bar with Flau’jae, trying my best not to let the rain cloud over my head poke out. She’s talking, animated as ever, but I’m only half-listening, my mind drifting back to Drea more often than I’d like to admit.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Her voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.

I blink, forcing out a smile. “Sorry,” I apologize, stretching my arms out in a way to reset. “I’m listening now. Promise.”

Flau’jae narrows her eyes at me, clearly not buying it. “Nah, you’re not,” she says, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. “What’s got you so deep in thought? You’ve been acting like you’re here, but not really here, y’know?”

I shrug, trying to play it off. “Just tired, I guess. Been a long week.”

She studies me for a moment, her gaze sharp. “Uh-huh. And this long week wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain someone, would it?”

I bite my lip, trying to stay cool. Flau’jae doesn’t know about Drea and me—no one does, really. We made sure of that. But if anyone’s gonna pick up on something, it’s her. I should’ve known better than to think I could just sit here and pretend everything’s fine.

“Maybe,” I say vaguely, hoping that’s enough to satisfy her curiosity. “I just got a lot on my mind, I’m fine,” I reassure, furrowing my eyebrows as if it was nothing to worry about.

She raises an eyebrow, leaning in like she’s about to uncover some big secret. “Stuff, huh? Girl stuff?”

I roll my eyes, trying to play it off. “You’re too nosy for your own good, you know that?”

She grins, laughing a little. “Paige! Come on, spill. Who is she?”

I hesitate, and for a second, I consider telling her everything. But that’s a slippery slope, and I’m not ready to go there. So instead, I won’t reveal too much. “It’s complicated,” I sigh.

Flau’jae crosses her arms, fully intrigued. “Complicated how?” She could be a detective.

I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. “Just... complicated. Things didn’t end the way they were supposed to. And now I’m stuck trying to figure out what to do next.”

She nods slowly, taking that in. “So, you and this girl… y’all were close?”

“Yeah,” I huff out, nodding as I press my lips together. “Real close.”

Flau’jae gives me a knowing look. “Thats who you was texting last night at the game?”

“Maybe,” I drag out, a shit-eating grin gracing my face. Then I slip up. “I was jus’ too scared to say anything to her face.”

Her eyes widen, and she brings a hand up to cusp her lips. It takes me a bit to realize, and as soon as I do, she cuts me off. Damn it. “Thats why you was hugging her a little too long after the final buzzer.”

“Hey! I ain’ even say a name,” I say quickly and louder than intended, trying to backtrack.

She leans forward, eyes wide with amusement. “You didn’t have to! You gave me everything I needed to know. Paige, what the hell? You and Drea, for real? I didn’t know you had game like that.”

I jerk my head back, scrunching my face up at her. There was no doubt that Drea was one of the prettiest faces in the game, and the fact that she can ball too just really adds to it. “I can show you what these rizz hands can do,” I joked momentarily. “It wasn’t even supposed to be a thing, though. We kept it on the low for a reason.”

Flau’jae shakes her head, holding her lips a little tighter now. “You know what Twitter would do with this? You been out here sneaky-linking and didn’t even give me a heads-up?”

Sneaky-linking? Was that really what it was? “Can we stop talking about this?” I say, half-laughing despite myself.

“And y’all met in high school, too. That’s some next-level soulmatism or something.”

I chuckle, licking my lips as I lift up my drink. The clinking of the ice fills the silence, and I’m able to put a close to the conversation. “It’s over now, anyway. Doesn’t matter.” It’s a lie. We’d clearly went over that it did matter.

Flau’jae studies me for a moment, her eyes narrowing as if she can see right through me. But then she lifts her hands up in surrender, a smirk playing on her lips. “Alright, if it’s really over, how about you find someone tonight? You could use it if I’m being honest,” She retorts, referring to the mood I’ve been in the entire night because of my situation.

“Chill!” I laugh, shaking my head as I lean back in my chair myself. “You make it sound so easy.”

She shrugs, and I hesitate, taking a second to let my eyes wander around the bar. A couple of eyes meet mine, lingering longer than what’s considered normal. I’m not sure if they might know who I am, or just think I’m attractive. Or maybe both.

Flau’jae seems to notice too, shooting me a wild and bright smile. “See? you still got it. Just make a good choice.”

The car hums beneath me, the city lights flashing past as I sink into the leather of the backseat, my head leaning against the window. I can still taste the alcohol on my tongue, and my mind is replaying the past few hours like a hazy, disconnected reel. All I can think about is her.

You’d think after a night out I’d at least be able to get the mass of Drea off my mind, but I think it just made everything worse. No matter how hard I try to push her out, physically and emotionally, she’s always there, right on the edge of my thoughts.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, my thumb hovering over her contact. I know I shouldn’t text her. I know it’s a bad idea. But our last conversation on repeat and the emptiness from earlier are making my judgment untrustworthy, and before I can stop myself, I’m typing out a message.

Yo, you up?

I stare at the screen, the words staring back at me. It’s a weak attempt, but I’m past caring. A part of me almost hopes she won’t respond, that she’ll leave me to deal with the consequences of my choices alone. But then I add another text, like I can’t help myself.

Idc if you’re not

It feels like a challenge. Like I’m daring her to ignore me, to stay out of it. But I know that’s not what I want.

I swallow hard and send one last message, my fingers trembling slightly as I type.

You still in Phoenix, right?

The words hang there, waiting for her response. My heart pounds in my chest, and I can’t tell if it’s from the countless amounts of dirty shirley’s or the anticipation of hearing from her. Or both. I really hope I don’t throw up in this car.

I lean back in the seat in attempt to relax, but I can literally hear my heart beating. I wonder if the driver can, really. I don’t know what I’m hoping for, but I know that if she’s still here, if she answers… I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist whatever comes next.

The minutes stretch out in silence, broken only by the occasional sound of the car’s tires hitting a pothole. I keep my eyes glued to the screen, watching the three little dots appear and disappear. I should put my phone away, maybe even go back to the hotel and sleep this off, but I can’t. I’m too far gone for that.

The Uber turns down another quiet street, and I feel the weight of my decisions pressing down on me. It’s not just about tonight. It’s about all the nights that led up to this, every bad choice that brought me to this moment. The thought of facing it alone is unbearable, and I realize that’s why I texted her. Not because I want her to come over, but because I don’t want to be alone. Or that I do, just with her.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I almost drop it in my rush to check the screen.

Why?

A single word, blunt and to the point. She’s guarded, as usual. But the fact that she responded at all makes me happy enough.

I just… I hesitate, staring at the blinking cursor. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say, but I settle on honesty.

Just wanna see you. Is that so bad?

I hit send before I can second-guess myself. My fingers hover over the screen again, and then I add another message.

I don’t wanna stop seeing you fr

It’s more than I planned to say, more vulnerable than I planned to be, but it’s the truth. And I’m too tired of pretending otherwise.

The reply comes quickly this time, and I can almost hear her voice in the words.

Are you drunk texting me right now?

And no, you mean you don’t wanna stop fucking me

Her words hit me like a punch in the gut, and for a moment, I just stare at the screen, the bright light from my phone casting harsh shadows in the dark car. I can feel the truth in what she’s saying, but it’s only part of it. Yeah, we’ve been physical, and I’m not denying that’s been a big part of this whole thing, but it’s not just that.

No, Drea. It’s more than that. We both know it always was.

You said it three days ago.

I hesitate before hitting send, but I know I have to. I can’t keep hiding behind the bullshit. She deserves better than that even if she won’t appreciate it.

The reply doesn’t come right away, and the silence feels like it’s pressing in on me from all sides. I shift in my seat. This whole thing—this whole night—feels like I’m balancing on a razor’s edge, and I’m terrified of falling off.

When her response finally comes, it’s short.

It’s 2am.

Ok, it’s not ideal. but I can’t stop thinking about everything you said.

And everything I didn’t say.

There’s another long pause, and I can almost picture her on the other end, trying to figure out what to say. We’ve been dancing around each other for so long, caught up in this push and pull, and now it feels like we’re on the verge of something, but neither of us knows how to take the next step.

Then, her next message comes through, and it’s enough to make my chest tighten. It’s hesitant but willing.

Where are you?

Outside your hotel.

Her reply is instant this time.

Come up.

I shove my phone into my pocket and step out of the Uber, my mind on a million as I make my way to her room. Every step feels heavy as if I’m walking through mud, but there’s a part of me that knows this is where I need to be—where I’ve always needed to be.

When I reach her door, it swings open almost as soon as I knock, and there she is, standing in front of me. Her eyes are guarded, just like her text messages, but I can see something softer underneath. Something that tells me she’s just as scared of this as I am.

“Paige,” she says, her voice a little wistful as she fiddles with the door knob. She looks me up and down, almost as if I’m being examined before I’m allowed in.

I don’t know what to say, so I just step forward, closing the distance between us. “I’m not drunk,” I state, shooting down her concerns from a few moments ago. She wouldn’t proceed if there was a chance I wouldn’t remember anything in the morning.

She looks at me for another long moment, like she’s trying to decide if she believes me. Then, with a sigh, she steps aside, letting me in. The door closes behind me with a soft click, and I lean against it. Suddenly we’re alone in her room, the reality of the situation settling around us.

“I know I shouldn’t have texted. But I did, and I’m glad I’m here.” I ramble, although still stern.

She sighs, and the curls that fall perfectly over her shoulders bounce a bit. Shes in a pair of short pajama shorts and a long, grey Nike tee-shirt that could’ve been mine. Correction, it definitely is mine. “You’re making this so much harder than it has to be.”

“It doesn’t have to be hard. We can make it less complicated.” I try to reason.

She stiffens, her breath catching as she looks at me, her eyes searching mine. “I—“

“I’m serious,” I cut her off, my voice low as I step closer to her. I couldn’t tell you what I was thinking. “I don’t know when I’m gonna see you again. And I can’t… I can’t leave tomorrow without letting you know how much I care.”

I don’t say it out loud, but the words are there, hanging in the air between us. I love you. And I’m sorry. But I can’t bring myself to say it. I don’t know why. Instead, I just hope she can feel it, hoping she knows without me having to spell it out.

“You can’t keep doing this,” she says quietly, her back turned to me as she walks further into the room. “Running to me when you’re feeling lost. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” I admit, taking a step closer. “But I’ont know how to stop. I’ve tried, but… since you’ve been apart of my life it’s been hard to let you go. I don’t wanna lose you—“

“You already did,” she cuts me off, turning to face me, and it scares me how serious she sounds. There’s pain in her eyes, but there’s also something else—something that makes me hope, even if just for a second. “We both did.”

I close the gap between us, and I can tell it catches her by surprise because of the look she gives me. My hands gently cup her face. “Then why am I here? Why did you let me in again?”

She glances down at my lips, and despite being angry, she doesn’t respond with words. Physicality has always been our response for everything involving each other. It’s all we know. She leans into my touch, and it feels like a birthday gift. Her eyes flutter shut before she opens them again, and it’s enough to make me lean in, pressing my lips to hers in a kiss that’s more desperate than anything else.

She kisses me back, her hands finding their way to my shoulders as she pulls me closer, and for a moment, it feels like everything else fades away. It’s just us, tangled up in each other, trying to find something solid to hold onto.

But then she pulls back, breathless, her hands still resting on my shoulders. She’s looking down, like she’s fighting some internal battle. “Oh my God,” she whispers, shaking her head. “You are drunk.”

“I told you I’m not,” I murmur, trying to find her eyes and pull her back to me by the waist, but she resists, her fingers gripping my shoulders tighter. Her resistance is strong, her fingers digging into my shoulders as if she’s trying to push away the intensity of the moment. “Please, Drea.”

She shakes her head, eyes still averted. “I can taste the alcohol!” She brings her thumb up to brush over my lips. “I knew it, why the fuck would you lie?” She’s trying to walk away at this point, but my grip is too tough. I won’t let her go.

“No, listen,” I say, more eager and clear. “What I said, what I meant—none of that has to do with being drunk. I’m here because I need you. Because I want you. This isn’t just about tonight.”

Drea’s resolve falters, her eyes flickering back to mine with her perfectly arched eyebrows crinkling up just a bit. “You’re saying all the right things, but I can’t just ignore—”

I cut her off by pulling her closer, my grip firm but gentle on her hips. My thumbs move beneath her shirt, stroking her skin and feeling the muscle. “I know.” My lips are ghosting over her ear. “But please, just for tonight, let’s not think about it.” I press a kiss right below it. “Just be with me. Let’s just be here.”

“Paige..” she starts again, her voice softer this time, and I love it when she says my name. I lean in, silencing her with a kiss that’s both insistent and tender. She melts into it, her resistance breaking as she wraps her arms around my neck. Shes quick to sneak her tongue in, the movement making me wince, furrowing my brows at how good she tastes.

I guide her backward until her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she falls onto it with a soft thud. I follow her down, my body pressing against hers as our kiss grows more fervent. My hands explore her curves, skimming over the fabric of her shirt as it rides up, and I feel her shiver beneath me.

“Is this mine?” I breathe against her lips, the warmth of her hands on my cheeks making my face flush a vibrant red. Drea nods, her breath hitching as she catches the look in my eyes. Without another word, I grab the hem of her shirt and yank it up over her head, tossing it aside. The shirt hits the floor, and she starts giggling like a school girl, her chest now fully exposed and daunting.

The sound of her laughter makes my stomach flip, and I can’t help but grin, leaning down to capture her mouth in another kiss. This time, there’s no hesitation, no holding back. Our bodies press together, her skin warm and soft against mine, like it was made for me.

My hands begin to wander a bit too much, all the way down to her shorts. Slipping my hand in, I can already feel how wet she is. She lets out a soft gasp as I trace slow, deliberate circles against her clit firmly. “Tell me what you want, baby,” I whisper, my breath fanning over her neck.

Her body has always reacted to every touch, every word. She’s trying to stay composed, but I can tell she’s barely holding on. Her hips instinctively push against my hand, silently begging for more, but I keep my movements steady, torturously slow and sloppy. I want to hear her say it.

“You,” she breathes out, her voice wavering. She’s antsy, I can feel it—the way her muscles tense, the way her breath comes in shallow pants.

“C’mon,” I murmur, nipping at her earlobe. “You can do better than that.”

She whimpers, her hands gripping my shoulders, nails digging into my skin as she tries to find the words. “Please… I need—” She breaks off, a soft moan escaping her lips when I press harder, right where she needs it most.

But then she grabs my wrist, stopping me just before she can fall over the edge. Her eyes lock with mine, and they’re low, dark, and daring. Three words that are very Drea. “Stop,” she says, her voice firmer now, even though I can tell it’s taking all her willpower. “I wanna feel you.”

The way she says it—so raw, so desperate—it’s enough to make me slip into a trance. I pull back, my gaze lingering on her as I strip off the rest of my clothes, watching as she does the same. Every inch of her is so perfect to the point where it should be a crime, and I want to touch every part.

I lay back on the bed, and she climbs on top of me, her movements deliberate and careful as she positions herself right over the bottom half of my body. I let my hands slide down her sides, tracing the curve of her waist before coming to rest on her ass. I tilt my head slightly against the pillows, mouth slightly agape. I can’t resist giving her a gentle squeeze, eliciting a soft noise from her. I smile, and my hands linger there, holding her close as she settles into place. We’ve done this countless amounts of times, and every single time it feels different. Better.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy, you know that?” I pull her hips down, aligning our bodies perfectly, and the feeling of her heat against mine makes my breath catch, but I’m still focused. “Could stay like this all night.”

Drea licks her lips, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she adjusts herself, the friction and jolting of our bodies a whole whirlpool of pleasure. “You better,” she whispers back, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as her hands grip my legs so she can find herself.

Slowly, she starts to move, her hips grinding down against mine in a smooth rhythm. Every slide of her body against me is agonizingly perfect, and I can’t help the groan that escapes as she finds a pace that makes my whole body push up against her.

My eyebrows furrow as I take sight of where we meet, her pussy flat against mine. The squelching of our juices together fills the room, and I lose it. Maybe the alcohol is accentuating the feeling for me, or she’s just this good. “Fuck…” I breathe out, my hands roaming up her back, feeling the muscles flex and move beneath her skin. “You feel so good. Always so good.”

Her response is a soft moan, her head falling forward slightly as she loses herself. I let my hands slide back down to her ass, guiding her movements, making sure every grind, every brush of our bodies, hits just right. I can feel her trembling, her thighs shaking as she picks up the pace, chasing that high.

I can’t resist teasing her a little, my hands kneading her ass as she rides me, my fingers brushing just along the edge of her entrance, close enough to make her squirm but not enough to give her what she really wants. She lets out a frustrated moan, hips moving harder, trying to get more.

“Paige!” she groans, voice full of need and just the right amount of anger, her breath coming out in ragged pants. “Stop playing with me. I can’t take it.”

My grip tightens, and I keep her exactly where I want her, reaching up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear, my fingers lingering as I brush my thumb gently along her cheek. “You can take it, baby,” I whisper. “I know you can.”

She looks at me with those pleading eyes, her breath hitching as she adjusts herself, arching her back more. The movement pushes her even closer to me, our bodies pressing together, and the feeling almost sends me over the edge.

Without warning, I dip two fingers into her entrance, the sight too pretty to resist. It makes her gasp, her body collapsing forward against me. Our skin sticks together, warm too from the sweat, and her chest is pressing against mine as she struggles to catch her breath.

Before she can lose herself entirely, I slide my hand to her lower stomach, pushing her back up, guiding her into place. “Nah, stay up w’me, ma.” My voice is shaky with the effort of holding it together. Out of breath, mouth wide open. “Hold that shit.”

She whines out, her voice high and so pornographic. “Mm—oh, I can’t…” Her words trail off into a desperate moan, her body shuddering as my fingers move in that come-hither motion, curling inside her just right. The feeling of her slick is almost too much to bear, making my head spin.

I push through, keeping her steady even as I feel myself starting to lose control. “You can,” I pant, my breath coming out in ragged bursts. “So close, I know you can do it.”

She’s trembling, her thighs shaking as she tries to follow my command, but I can see the strain on her face, her dilated pupils, the way she’s fighting to keep herself together. My fingers work faster, deeper, and she bites down so hard on her lip I swear it might bleed.

Finally, when I feel her body tighten around me, right on the edge of breaking, I tap her ass lightly with my palm and pull my fingers out just enough to catch everything. “Now, baby. Come for me.”

The moment I say it, she lets go, and we come together, our bodies moving in sync, the room filled with strangled noises. The pleasure is blinding, overwhelming, and I cling to her as we ride it out. She’s finally able to fall on top of me comfortably, hand resting on my chest.

We stay like that for a moment, tangled together, both of us shaking with the aftershocks, until we finally start to come down. I press a soft kiss to her temple, my heart still racing (for more than one reason I’ll admit) as I hold her close.

I can feel her hesitance, scared to move or say anything. But I can also feel her tiredness, the way her body sags against mine like she’s too worn out to keep up any walls.

Gently, I shift, moving my body so I’m laid up next to her, our limbs tangling together naturally. My arm stays draped around her, holding her close as she nestles her head into the crook of my neck, her breath warm against my skin. It feels good—too good—like maybe we could stay like this forever if we didn’t know better.

“I want you to mean what you said. All of it.” 

Her words hang, and I can feel her hesitation, the fear that I’m just saying things because it’s easier than dropping the bomb or just straight losing her. I swallow, pulling her closer.

“You’ont think I did?”

“Paige.”

“Drea, I do.”

She doesn’t respond right away, just presses herself deeper into me, like she’s trying to believe it, trying to let herself see us being more than what we are right now without it turning into shit. I know how hard that is, how many times we’ve proven we aren’t made for each other.

“Then prove it,” she finally murmurs, her voice a little stronger now, like she’s challenging me, daring me to back it up.

I nod against her, not sure if she can even feel it, but I know what she means. It’s not about words anymore—it’s about what comes next, and whether we can make it work. “I will,” I promise, and for once, I really believe it.

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐭

Summary ➳ Gambit lends an ear and his comfort to you. 

(A/n) ➳ I feel like I spent too much time writing this because I wanted to get his accent right. But I thank all those who gave me advice, especially @a-roguish-gambit. I also started playing RDR2 so you guys can expect content for the game soon too!

Word Count ➳ 1.1k 

Content Warnings ➳ Female Reader, swearing, violence, blood, pet names (cher), mentions/fear of abandonment, light sexual content, cock blocking??  

It wasn’t your choice to be pushed into the Void after Wade and Logan. When you watched their bodies disappear, you too were taken to the Void without putting much of a fight. And from the moment you arrived, you knew you were over your head. 

From the moment you arrived, Wade and Logan’s bickering and banter was constant, and their fights weren’t often but deadly. You stood on the sidelines whenever they fought because you knew they could easily take you out. 

Especially now.  

What was supposed to be a ride to find the Resistance members became a bloodbath, the first sign of a fight starting was your cue to leave the car and wait for them to calm down. 

You sat against the tree, watching the two grown ass men throw kicks and punches that could kill a person with ease. Logan's claws pierce Wade’s body and how Wade’s katanas and knife slice through Logan’s outfit and skin.  

“Guys, seriously?” You muttered, this fight would’ve been much entertaining if she had food with her. You were tired of it, physically and emotionally, and you weren’t surprised when you fell asleep to the sound of them battling.  

But when you awoke, you were in a different place. Some kind of hideout.  

But with three others who you learned to be Blade, Elektra and Gambit. All of them talked about getting back into Cassandra’s lair, but Wade did most of the talking as Logan did all the drinking.  

“You?!” Wade suddenly shouting in some kind of encouragement, pointing directly at you.  

They all stared at you, waiting for a response but you had no idea what they were agreeing on, going back in her lair or getting a way out.  

“It’s the same thing, kid.” Logan interrupted your thinking, as if he read your thoughts. But it seems he was tired of the fighting and wanted to a seat to drink in peace.  

“Sure, I guess.” You said, mainly to get the stares off you. 

Everyone agreed that they would set off early in the morning, giving you the chance to look around the hideout. You peeked your heads in the room as you already felt like you were trespassing, so you promised yourself that this would be the last room before you ate something. 

“Bonjour, cher.” Gambit’s voice made you jump, quickly pulling your head out to turn and look at him. “Ain’t polite to be peekin’ in on folks, now is it?” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” 

Gambit reached out to push the door open further. “Ain’t no harm done.” With a wave of his hand, he welcomed you in. “Don’t be shy, cher.” 

You walked in once you got his approval, he followed right behind you, closing the door with a click. The room was not what you expected, with mismatched furniture and some playing cards lying around, it spoke of him.  

It was Gambit’s space, and it felt like an extension of him. 

“So, how long you been stuck in dis here Void?” Gambit asked, sitting on his couch and patting the cushion beside him.  

But you shook your head, choosing to lean against the wall. “Not long. I got caught up in Wade’s mess.” 

Gambit raised an eyebrow, his expression changing to surprised. “You’ new to all dis chaos, eh? Coulda fooled me.” He grinned.  

You shrugged, trying to laugh. “More like I got dragged into it. Wade... He stopped getting in trouble for some time but this time, I wasn’t quick enough to dodge it.” 

“If dere’s somethin’ on your mind, cher, you can talk. Sometimes it’s easier t’spill your guts to a stranger.” Gambit noted. 

You looked at him, seeing sincerity in his eyes. For a moment, you hesitated, but you broke. “I’m worried. Scared.” You admitted, whispering. “That this plan won’t work. If it doesn’t, everyone in my universe... They’ll forget me. It’ll be like I never existed.” 

You didn’t mean to say much, but once you started, you couldn’t stop. “I’ve been abandoned once before, left to fend for myself. I worked so hard to make a name but now it’ll be for nothing. Everything I’ve done, everyone I’ve known... Gone. Just like that.” 

You felt embarrassed after you finished ranting. Your eyes widened as you raised your hands, stumbling over your words, a poor attempt at explaining yourself. “Shit! I-I know you said-” 

But before you could finish, Gambit was there in front of you, pulling you into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around you like a shield, protecting you from your worries.  

“It’s alrig’t cher. You’re alrig’t.” He whispered, his voice soothing as he held you close. “You ain’t gotta apologize for feelin’ like dis. Everyone gets scared, even Remy.”  

You felt yourself slowly relax in his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calmed you a little. In that moment, you didn’t care about the fear that’s been eating you away.  

You hesitated at first, but then you wrapped your arms around him. You both stayed like that for a while, neither of you saying a word, just taking comfort in each other’s company. 

Eventually, Gambit pulled back slightly, just enough so he could look down at you. You met his faze, your breath hitching as you realized how close you were. 

And then, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. It was slow soft at first, a mere brush of lips, but it deepened as the seconds passed, both of you losing yourselves in the moment.  

You felt his fingers running through your hair as you reached to cup his face. You shut your eyes, your hands moving to his coat and attempt to take it off him.  

The door flew open with a loud slam. You jumped, darting away from Gambit. 

“Hey, what’s going on in here?!” Wade shouted as he strutted into Gambit’s room. His tone was annoyingly cheerful. “We don’t have the budget for intimacy coordinators! Johnny must’ve taken it all.” 

You cleared your throat, crossing your arms as you felt your face become warm. “Wade! I... Uh... Nothing, nothing’s going on.” 

You could tell by how the whites of his suit widened that he was smirking under that dammed mask. “Oh really? ‘Cause it looks like I interrupted something juicy!” 

“Jus’ havin’ a lil’ chat, mon ami. Nothin’ to get excited ‘bout.” Gambit fixed his coat, seemingly normal. 

Wade then shrugged, turning around. “Alright, but if I hear any smoochin’ sounds, I’m comin’ right back!” 

As soon as the door closed behind Wade, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your heat still racing from the near discovery. You glanced at Gambit, who was watching you with a smile, and couldn’t help but laugh. 

Gambit stepped closer to you, hooking his finger under your chin to have you look at him. “As we were, cher?”  

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission. 

[kaibutsushidousha]

Kodaka April Fools tweets 2024

Lying just because it's April Fools' is so dull. Honestly painful to watch. Lying in general doesn't do you any good. In my younger days, I told every lie I could, saying some genuinely insane stuff about being a supreme leader of evil and whatnot, and thanks to that, now that I'm in my thirties, I got famous for all the wrong reasons and can't find a stable job because people think I'm associated with the yakuza... Sigh, I wanna deck my cringe younger self's face. Quit lying for fun while you can.

My classmates aren't doing great either. Thinking you're hot shit during your school days always comes back to bite you... My advice to my past self: slow and steady effort is worth more than any talent. Also, the part of life you spent larping with that silly horse laugh is not going to be one you'll want to remember later. I wish I could make that clear to him. White lies aren't a thing. Talent is never enough. My class is proof of that. Wanna know what my classmates are like now that we're in our thirties?

Akamatsu became a piano teacher. Her player skills capped off in her teens, it seems. But she's not that good at teaching so she's considered kinda mid at her job. And now she's struggling with the father of a student incessantly hitting on her. Tough world to live in.

Toujou opened a housekeeping company but she was too strict with her employees so everyone quit. And now she's doing everything on her own. Sucks to be in your thirties without any successors or employees. She's a prime example of how being so much better than anyone else doesn't do you any good. Well, she's always working for celebrities, so she's doing well financially, but I heard about some major court fight about a missing item under suspicion of theft from one of her clients. That can't be nice.

Yumeno got to her thirties still saying magic is real, so she's past the point of no return. She agrees that's an unhinged way to live, but she's too old to suddenly change gimmicks. Work takes her all over the country, but her gimmick doesn't allow her to publicly drink, so she has to get plastered alone in her hotel room after shows. I wish she could fix her life with real magic.

Harukawa? ...Haven't heard that name in a long time. Now she was a living edgy fantasy. The past tense was because I hadn't heard of her in a long time. I don't know the details, but apparently, she went to some war zone outside of Japan because her first love didn't want to date her. Takes some real edgelord to react to a broken heart like that, but if she's still alive, I have no idea how her thirties are treating her. My personal guess is that she's a mother of many.

Chabashira opened her Aikido school but is having a hard time attracting students. So she had the idea of starting an anti-sexual-harassment campaign that could double as advertisement, but thanks to her cluelessness when it comes to romance, she got canceled for mistakenly tossing men in regular couples. She's still doing the "degenerate males" bit in her thirties. Girl really needs to get on with the times. Rumor goes that she still downs huge packs of tequila bottles with Yumeno every now and then. Really don't think there's any salvaging her reputation.

Shirogane is an office lady still continuing her cosplay hobby on the side. She could be doing well if she knew how to keep her mouth shut but frequently rambles about cosplay history and etiquette, so no one likes having her around. Stay emotionally dependent on a single hobby long enough and your passion starts to close you off to others. That's her problem.

Angie was the most successful in the class! She made big money both on the art and the religion fronts. However, there were some controversies about her devotees selling counterfeits of her paintings at exorbitant prices and one magazine made a huge news coverage of it, which resulted in her catching the police's attention. She's been recently untraceable, with the rumors saying that she'll never be back to Japan.

Oh, and Iruma... Up until some point, she had the best life of all of us. She made big money off of her inventions' patents. So far so good. Things only started going off-rails after she married an ex-stripper. The two started a YouTube channel together. And later, her husband ran in last year's elections and lost big time. They got an awful debt from his election campaign and she had to get into side jobs to pay it off. And her husband? Disappeared. No word from Iruma herself about what happened. Tough world to live in.

No further updates from Kodaka in the past 3 hours, so I assume he went to sleep and will come back to tweet about the 7 remaining boys in the morning.

[spellboundstarlet]

KATE MARTIN X WIFE READER - pt one is here.

authors note; comments + reblogs are always better than likes!! i loveeeee feedback!

request; “i loved your pregnancy hcs with kate, could you do some of after the baby is born? like taking turns with the baby, meeting the team etc? love your writing!” — first off, thank you so much angel 💕 i hope this was good!!

word count; 640 words

— kate sat next to you with fear in her eyes as she watched your body be taken over by tremors. the poor girl hadn’t even heard of “the shakes” until the nurse explained how, and why this was happening to your body during labor and that it might possibly happen after birth aswell. for you, it was also quite frightening, the feeling drowning out all other senses besides the pain of your contractions. despite trying her best to stay strong for you, the sight of you lying there, broke her heart. there was nothing she could do besides hold your hand.

— as soon as the two of you find a quiet moment together with your baby resting peacefully in his bassinet, kate lovingly positions herself next to you, gently pressing her lips against your knuckles. her voice when she spoke was all that could be heard in the room, besides the baby’s unlabeled breathing, “you did so good, baby.”

— your wife and you had both had agreed that there were to be no visitors allowed until after the three of you had safely returned home. every family member who asked, was told the same. after the two days you spent in the hospital, then you’d open your home for only close family on both sides. under the condition that nobody was ill at the time of their visit. the two of you stayed focused on your little family and creating a sense of privacy during your time together, making sure that your experience remained undisturbed and cherished.

— during your entire time postpartum, she was your rock. physically, mentally, and emotionally. from the minute you brought the baby into the world, she is there to provide nothing but her love and support. whether that be feeding the baby in the middle of the night while you slept, or listening to you as you ranted. no matter what, kate was there.

— most nights, you’d open your eyes, the sound of the baby's cries gently nudging you awake, making you to rise sleepily and shift your weight to the edge of the bed. you’d yawned and drag your feet over to the bassinet, barely a couple of steps away, kate would get up aswell. the blonde’s hair was tousled from sleep, but she still remained gorgeous. your wife was a bit groggy, but determined to tend to the baby. 

"hey, baby, you should rest. i’ll handle him for now," kate whispered to you softly, before kissing your forehead and sending you back into bed.

— on the phone with your overly persistent mother, she begged and pleaded to come see her grandbaby. but, with her living out of state, you didn’t want to risk the baby getting something she caught on the plane over. so you told her “no”, over and over.

“i don’t want to sound mean, mom —“ but you were cut off by kate, who was usually the sweet one in the relationship, “i don’t mind being mean. you can wait. he’s not going anywhere.”

— around a month and a half later, you’d decided the baby was in a place where he could meet extended family or friends. kate’s teammates began coming over. first it was kelsey and a’ja, then the others followed suit. eventually, caitlin and her girlfriend flew down aswell. the amount of flower bouquets you had by now was insane, and you finally had to ask people to stop bringing them, just in fear that they’d take over your whole home. 

— you and kate often took turns. whenever something needed done, you’d just hand the baby off to the other one. your favorite moments were when all three of you cuddled together or when you’d wake up to kate and the baby sitting in the rocking chair in his nursery.

taglist; @bveckers @kmoneymartini @cosmopretty @charlottehughess @aubreygriffin @favreader23 , divs by @/anitalenia

[simpingland]

Hi hello how are ya I'd like to request something

Can you write something with Ewan Mitchell and his co star (fem pronounce) where they're at an interview and goofing off, reader joking about getting sleep while they're putting on wigs for hours and stuff like that, maybe a little more serious talk about their characters

(Readers character is jaces twin and aemonds love interest)

Thank you!

Flirting and sleeping// Ewan Michael x fem!actress.

Summary: playing Aemond's love interest have the perks of giving you a flirty partner during promotion and a comfortable shoulder to sleep on set.

Gif not mine

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last interview of the day, after a whole week of promotion. Always the same questions, always the same answers. Keeping your outfit spotless for a whole day, with your make-up intact and hours of sleep accumulated.

"How is it possible that you are always sleepy?" Your colleague Ewan asked you when he saw you yawning.

"I'm a very reflective person, the night inspires me" you joked, and watched as he shook his head, smiling.

"These things feel like an eternity," he complained.

You were about to agree with him when the new interviewer sat down opposite. She greeted you, and Ewan, as always, was a gentleman, serious and attentive.

You, however, found it hard to pay as much attention. You glanced sideways at Ewan's every gesture, and he seemed to make a great effort to listen. After all this time you had learned to read his expression of feigned listening as well as his real one.

"After so many serious scenes, I suppose you keep your spirits up between scenes...are you bored on set or are you too busy?" The girl looked at the two of you.

"I tend to stay focused. Getting into Aemond's mind is quite complicated..." Ewan's tone amused you. He turned to look at you. "What?"

You let out a laugh, the interviewer looking confused at the scene.

"Sorry honey," you turned to the girl, "but Ewan is lying to you. He was concentrating at the beginning, when he took his job very seriously."

You watched as Ewan leaned back in his chair, hiding a smile and waiting for you to tease him, which he quite enjoyed.

"This guy was scary on the first day."

"It's thanks to the costume and make-up team," he interrupted.

"Oh, no, Ewan, I mean the day of the script reading. That sweatshirt was terrifying." What you said made the interviewer laugh, and Ewan joined in the fake discussion you had formed.

"You speak out of envy," he replied, crossing his legs.

"For this kind of thing, he's very formal. They always put together nice outfits for him, but in real life, it's nothing like that. "

"And what's Ewan like in real life?" Ewan himself asked.

"He's weird... weird and kind of flirty."

He turned red, shaking his head as the interviewer let you speak. You were basically getting more information out for her than she intended to get.

"Yeah, yeah...there's nothing shy about this guy here. He makes all the girls on the set smile with his 'good morning, love'. And they all love to put him his wig in the morning, his patch..."

"Why don't you let the girl do the interview?" Your partner interrupted you with mock seriousness.

"Excuse me, but I'm answering the question. Ewan was very focused at first. No one dared speak to him once he put on that wonderful costume. But as soon as Susan in make-up told him he looked 'sexy'..." you snapped your fingers. "He became a sex symbol on set and enjoys it like nobody's business. He doesn't get bored on set because he spends the hours between scenes practising with his sword, chatting with the crew when he goes to get his coffee..."

"You should tell her how you spend your breaks..." he grinned mischievously. You looked at him, hiding a smile. You mostly spent them with him, but people didn't need to know that.

"You tell her."

"She spends her dead hours asleep or breaking things." The interviewer let out another laugh. "Oh, yes, she's snored through her make-up. I've had to put up with her nodding her head every morning. And the few times she was awake, she would steal my wig to take pictures. Remember what Susan said to you when she caught you?" she looked at you as if to scold you, and you looked ashamed.

"That I was going to mess it up..."

"Exactly! This girl is a mess on legs. The first day of shooting, she tore the fabric of her cape. The first day we shot together, she almost broke the carriage window... and the wine glass. Let's not forget the wine glass on the last day."

"I dented it," you confessed to the girl.

"The whole team was praying you'd fall asleep before you touched any more stuff." Continued your partner looking back at you.

"I've had the broken stuff deducted from my pay, you know."

"Yeah? And how much money have you earned then?"

"Let's just say...I've gone into debt to HBO..."

You laughed at your own joke as Ewan tried to refocus on the poor interviewer. You really had been the clumsiest person on set, and that was in stark contrast to the careful attitude Ewan had had in that same period. Many times, you had led him astray, getting him involved in a game where you both could let off steam while the sets were being set up. He loved to show you his swordsmanship, and of course, he was good at it. He had experience.

But on some other days, when it was anynof your turns to act, Ewan was much more focused, and although you were embarrassed to entertain him at first, he always made a point of sitting next to you. He helped you revise as much as you helped him. And while your gallery was filled with pictures of you making an idiot of yourself with his wig, and Ewan making an idiot of himself with his wig too, Ewan had his gallery filled with pictures of you asleep in the most unlikely places on the set, and pictures of you posing with whatever mess you had made. And Tom had been in charge of recording those occasions when you slept leaning on Ewan's shoulder while he reread his script. That would stay between you two, and you'd been going through the photos before bed for months, unaware that Ewan was doing exactly the same thing, grateful to have an excuse like promotion to be near you all the time.

"The relationship between your characters has been a much-discussed topic on the network and among fans. The girl changed the subject to a more serious one, to the one that really mattered, the series.

"You mean incest?" you asked.

"More like the feud between Blacks and Greens."

"Oh, right..."

"That's the thing with this series," Ewan interrupted. "The incest is the least of your worries."

"Right, silly me," you said wryly.

"It's common sense, of course."

You smiled at each other, admiring each other fondly, perhaps too fondly, as you always did, leaving the girl a bit of an outsider, and were surprised when she asked again.

"The good thing is that you don't look like each other. The relationship you have in the plot is a parallel to Romeo and Juliet. How do you approach this dynamic? Do you want it to be really romantic or something toxic like Rhaenyra and Daemon?"

"That I suppose can always be left to the audience's opinion," reasoned your partner. "For me there's certainly something romantic about it. Aemond is a character that transforms into something perverse but at the beginning he didn't seem to have such a strong quality. The writers wanted to make him that way, evolved. And I think her character is designed not to contrast but to show that there is something good in Aemond." You smiled downward as you listened to him, you had already talked about it during rehearsals. "When we did the casting, the director told me that they were looking for an actress with a sweet aura, well, so that ond couldn't naturally react violently towards her. They introduced me to this arse next to me and... you get a bit attached to her.

"I love working with Ewan, he's always so flattering..."

The girl smiled at you before asking.

"You're okay with the romance?"

"Well..." you thought for a second. Of course, the kiss you two had just rolled around was too passionate for it to be a toxic relationship. You shot the kiss as a very intimate scene, where Aemond approached your character with some fear, and it took you a moment to return the kiss. It was a slow kiss, tense and sweet. But when you return it, it was hard to separate again. Of course, what was left to shoot that day was done with flushed cheeks and dodging glances. Sparks had been flying between you and Ewan since the day you were brought together in that room for the test.

"Yes, I think it's different from Rhaenyra and Daemon. There's a lot more respect and a lot more equality between them. From the very beginning, we were going to treat our plot from the 'first love' trope, and we saw no better way to recite our lines than the longing and desire they have for each other. And how much Ewan and I love each other transcends the screen too much."

You saw how intensely he looked at you, maybe you had said too much. You were silent for too many seconds. You put on that mischievous grin again. "As much as Ewan is a great actor, I don't think anyone can pretend to hate me."

"Wow, that means the next season is going to be very promising for your fans. Thank you so much for this time, and for the tidbits from the set."

"It's been a pleasure, honey," you dismissed her.

"Our pleasure, I love your t-shirt, by the way," said Ewan, the girl was wearing a t-shirt with a poster of Daemon and Aemond on it.

You didn't know how to look at him after that. Had your answer been something of a confession? Maybe the kiss hadn't been that intense for him and you had just made a fool of yourself. Of course it was a bit weird the last ten minutes of your promo day.

You shared a taxi to the hotel, with silly small talk. When you arrived, you were walking up a flight of stairs when your heel broke.

"Oh my God, I can't believe it! My stylist is going to kill me!" You picked up your precious heels, Ewan didn't laugh at you, but he did smile at your desperation.

"Don't worry, we'll ask someone to get us some glue."

"A branded heel fixed with glue?"

"Well, it certainly wasn't made of steel, if it breaks easy it's easy to fix."

You walked all the way up the stairs barefoot. Ewan stopped.

"What are you doing?" You asked as you saw him stand back and pull out his mobile phone.

"Smile and show that heel," he asked. When you did he took the picture and smiled to himself. "For the collection. "

"Thanks to your tip-off they won't get me for period films, you know."

"You started it, I remind you. You've taken away my reputation as a serious, up-and-coming actor."

Ewan grabbed your heels from your hand as he saw you with your hands full with your mobile and wallet.

"The truth is, that poor girl was trying to be professional and we got into a play fight in front of her."

"I think she had fun. Of course, after always answering the same thing, this time I remembered why I like this job so much."

"I hope I didn't offend you, Ewan. You know it was all a joke."

You stopped at his door, yours was just opposite.

"All of it, all of it?"

"What do you mean?"

He licked his lips, thinking about how to phrase the question. You knew what he meant, now came the awkward part. Why the hell did you start talking about love?

"All the weeks since I've known you have been filled with something...special. And you were right when you said that I can't pretend to be repulsed by you, because... I definitely feel the opposite. I like every minute that you are beside me, not only for how talented you are but...how sweet and funny everything is with you. You're also quite gorgeous if I am allawed to say. And no, it's nothing of a method actor if I tell you that I have a crush on your bones just because Aemond would be... I want to make sure this feeling isn't just mine."

"You're telling me you like me?"

"Yeah, basically yes."

"And you're asking me if I like you?" You were clearly in shock.

"It's good to know you understand me...now I need an answer."

Yes, OF COURSE YOU DO. For some reason nothing came out of your mouth, and you could only look at him. Ewan read that silence as a definitive no and, after swallowing his breath, he nodded and gave up without losing his gallantry.

"I'm going to call room service and have them bring some glue."

He turned to open his door as you suddenly became aware of everything. You didn't know what he was babbling about when he opened it, but when he turned again to offer you passage, you jumped on him. You grabbed his face with impetus, and kissed his thin lips again as you had that day on the set. This time there was something even more authentic. Ewan held your waist as he regained his balance. This kiss surpassed the one in the scene, this one felt completely free, completely real and without consequence. Needless to say, you didn't go back to sleep in your room for the rest of the promo tour.

[e-nonsense]

Ok so I absolutely love your batsis stories. But may I ask of you to make one where Batsis smuggles a baby capybara into the manor?

Like in the dead of night brings it home and the 1st person to figure it out is technically Ace then Damian?

If not, that's fine.

pairing. Batfamily x batsis!reader

summary. Reader smuggles (and fails) her new pet into the manner.

warnings. swearing, jason Todd. NOT PROOFREAD

authors notes. i feel like I’m known for my batsis works and thank youuuu i genuinely enjoy writing batsis. capybara’s are lowkey kinda cute. How did I forget to post this?

wc. 0.?k

You shrieked nearly silently as you tried to hush Ace’s barks and growls at the fuzzy small animals in your arms. You shuffle as silently as possible, as it was an hour past midnight. Ace’s growling was making hard though.

The animal in your arms was fast asleep thankfully, you ran up the stairs, skipping steps as you went up. You made it to your room quickly, shutting the door just as soon as Ace made it in as well.

Your room was neat, the back wall was a bookshelf, filled to the brim with not your books but Jason’s. As your older brother spent most of his time brooding in your room.

You dimmed the lights so it wasn’t too bright for the animal in your arms, Ace growled at it again before jumping onto your bed claiming his spot on the comfortable mattress.

A knock on your door startled you, “ukhti?” His title for you in Arabic came through the door. “Are you awake?”

Swearing under your breath you placed the baby capybara on your bed, hiding it behind a pillow. Ace growled again and you glared at him, the brave dog looked down and pretended to sleep in response.

Creaking your bedroom door open and looking down at your little brother’s tan face, “hi Dami. What can I do for you?”

“Ace was barking,” he murmured, half asleep. Tonight was one of the few nights he stayed back from patrol.

“Oh, yeah he was just..” you shrugged, huffing at the unamused look on the boys face. “No use lying to you huh,” you snorted, stepping aside for him to enter.

“But you gotta keep it a secret,” he raises a brow but nods in agreement.

“Okay.”

You moved to your bed lifting the pillow to reveal the sleeping baby capybara. You grinned sheepishly as you stroked its fur.

“We are keeping it,” Damian nodded. “No matter what Father and Pennyworth say.”

You raised a brow in amusement before agreeing.

The two of you spent the next hour and a half fighting over names for the capybara before deciding to get a second opinion when Jason stormed in swearing at Bruce.

He froze and stared at you and Damian. “What the fuck is that?” He pointed to the capybara. He didn’t like the look you and Damian shared, now he was sat on your bed, a book open in front of him.

“This is bullshit,” he huffed boredly, eyes scanning over the words on the page. The position he was sat in comfortable, you and Damian had fallen asleep on him and now he was stuck between the two of you.

A week had passed since that night and the three of you hid the capybara — “Jason Jr” you had decided much to Damian’s disappointment — hidden from Bruce. Your other siblings pitching in after they found out.

One morning you were all sitting at the dinning table, a rare occurrence considering your family. The room was quiet while Bruce eyed you and Damian.

“So. Either of you want to explain this?” He asks, pointing at Alfred, who’s carrying your capybara.

You and Damian share a glance before you offer Bruce a sheepish smile. “It’s a long story?”

“We have time,” Bruce says leaning back in his seat.

There was no story, truthfully you just saw it and thought it was cute, but that didn’t stop you from fabricating a lie.

© hells-escapees. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[pedroscurls]

secret crushes (pt. 2)

summary: you thought you would be leaving this trip with hugh, but the feelings he has for you is just too much that it scares him. so, you rely on ryan and blake, unsure of what to do next. pairing: ryan reynolds x fem!reader, blake lively x fem!reader, hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 6.8k warnings: this is pure filth y'all, smut (f/f, m/f, fingering, oral sex - f receiving), bit of angst but i promise there's a happy ending, unconventional throuple, no use of y/n. a/n: shout out to this anon and @celestiamour / @celestiaras for this idea! i'm definitely out of my comfort zone with this, but i just love this dynamic so much. i hope i did this justice - they're just all good looking people and how can you not be attracted to all of them??? this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to blake lively, ryan reynolds, and hugh jackman. prev. part

“He actually left,” Ryan says, entering your hotel room to see you leaning against Blake in the middle of your bed. The entire week was spent with Hugh and you both barely left each other’s side, but it wasn’t until last night where he admitted that he was scared. The potential of the possibility of committing himself to you scared him. He had just gotten out of a marriage with someone who he thought he would be with until the end of his days and he had originally agreed to go to Hawaii to figure things out. To decide whether he was ready or not to be with you, but he hadn’t expected you to be here too. 

“I thought he was supposed to be a nice guy,” you whisper, hands wringing on your lap. “We had such an amazing week and… He just said he needed time to think, needed some space.” 

Blake’s rubbing your back, her cheek resting on the crown of your head. “He’s newly divorced, babe.” Blake says softly. “Give him time.”

You sigh and lie back on the bed with Blake whose arms wrap around you. She brushes your hair away from your face as you snuggle against her. She and Ryan had always brought you just as much comfort as Hugh did. 

“I can’t believe you guys thought it would work,” you mumble, feeling the bed dip as you look over at Ryan who sits at the foot of the bed. 

“Well,” he shrugs. “It did.” 

“For a week, Ryan.”

“I bet the sex was good though,” he grins. You narrow your eyes and grab a pillow to toss it in his direction, seeing it hit his face. Then, he tosses the pillow back in your direction as he lies on the other side of you. “He’ll come around, trust me.”

“I trusted you and came here,” you say, gently hitting his chest. “And now look what happened.”

“Yeah, you had the best sex of your life for an entire week. You are welcome.” 

Blake lets out a quiet laugh and stands up from the bed, hands on her hips as she looks down at you and Ryan. “Get up. We’re here for another week. Let’s make the most of it.”

Ryan nods, gently nudging you and pinching your side. 

“Ryan!” 

“Come on, baby. Whatever Blake says, goes,” he winks. 

“You’re both so lucky that I love you both,” you groan, sitting up as you stand from the bed. You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t think about Blake and Ryan in a way other than friends. You had always been intrigued by Blake– her confidence was alluring, captivating, and her deep blue eyes always made you feel like you were the only one she saw. You wouldn’t tell Hugh or Ryan, but there was a brief moment where you and Blake shared a kiss on New Year’s Eve. 

And Ryan – well, you always imagined that the best way to shut him up was to just sit on his face. You were sure he’d devour you until you couldn’t handle it anymore and you wondered if he would talk during sex as much as he does now. 

Ryan comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, holding you tight against him as Blake leans against the wall, biting her lower lip as she watches the both of you. 

“Well, it’s a good thing we love you too.” He grins, kissing your cheek. “Can you imagine if we didn’t? My god, you wouldn’t even be here with us right now.” 

Ryan’s arms are so strong around you, but all you can focus on is the look on Blake’s face. She’s staring directly into your eyes and while you can feel Ryan’s length press against your backside, you can’t help but want to walk towards Blake. 

“Babe,” Blake calls out to Ryan. “Take the kids to the beach?” 

Ryan nods, brushing his lips against the side of your neck before he pulls away. “Yeah, baby. Take care of her.”

“Wait, wait,” you say, looking between Ryan and Blake. “Are you guys– Is this…” you bite your lower lip. “I don’t want to get in the middle of this and–”

“You won’t,” they both say simultaneously. 

“We both want this. Do you?” Ryan asks, looking over at Blake and then back at you. 

“I do, yeah,” you mumble, surprising yourself. “I just don’t want things to change between us.” 

“If anything, it’ll make us stronger.” Blake smiles reassuringly and then walks over to you, bringing her soft hands to your cheeks as she leans down to capture your lips. You melt into her, hands resting on her hips as you slowly move your lips with hers. 

Ryan can’t help the tightness in the middle of his pants, his manhood pressing against the fabric almost uncomfortably. He watches Blake’s hands move from your cheeks down your back, pulling you flush against her front. She darts out her tongue to flick against you, your lips parting for her.

“Okay, okay,” Ryan calls out, clapping his hands together as you and Blake pull away from each other. You don’t look at Ryan and neither does she, both of your eyes staring into each other’s. 

“I’ll be leaving now,” Ryan says. 

“Okay, bye, babe,” Blake says, twirling a strand of your hair between her fingers. “See you tonight.”

“Bye, Ryan.” You grin, glancing over at him as your eyes move from top to bottom, noticing how his hand moves the center of his pants to squeeze himself. He finally leaves your room and leaves you and Blake standing in front of each other. 

“You know, Ryan and Hugh do know about our kiss.” Blake smiles, breaking the silence. 

“They do?” you ask, biting your lower lip. 

“Oh yeah. The look on their faces,” she says, brushing her thumb across your lower lip. “Is this okay? Ryan and I don’t do this, but you– You’re really something.” 

“Well, I’m extremely attracted to you and to Ryan,” you admit. “And Hugh, obviously.”

“Hugh’s gonna come around,” she reassures you. “In the meantime, wanna have some fun?”

You grin, “you did say to have fun on this trip and be open. I just–” you say quietly. “I’ve never been with another woman before. It’s always been something I’ve been curious about, but–”

Blake kisses your lips, gently nipping at your lower lip. “Oh, I’ll be your first?”

“And probably my last,” you answer. 

“Good, I like that.” Blake grins. “But before anything can happen, how about we go and grab some drinks?”

“I can’t believe this trip,” you laugh, grabbing your bag off the counter and following Blake out of your hotel room.

—

A couple of hours later and you and Blake are facing each other at the counter of the hotel bar. You’re dressed in a pair of denim cut-off shorts and a white tank-top while Blake is wearing a spaghetti strapped, loose white summer dress. You’ve both had a shot of tequila and two drinks each and as the hours pass, you become increasingly more comfortable with her as you anticipate what will happen once you bring her back to your hotel room. 

“So, tell me,” she says, looking at you from the rim of her glass. “Hugh? Is he…”

“A very generous lover,” you tease, winking in her direction. “I’m still hoping that the space he needs will give him clarity and I’m hoping that he sees how good this can be.”

“He will,” Blake says matter-of-factly. “You don’t see the way he looks at you, but me and Ryan do. He’ll come around.”

“For right now, though,” you begin, biting the tip of your straw. “Do you wanna head back up?” 

Blake grins. “Yeah, that sounds like a great plan.”

Once you and Blake both pay for the drinks you’ve bought, you lead her away from the bar and back to your hotel room. You’re still very aware of her high profile status, so if anyone were to have captured any candid photographs of the both of you, it would certainly look like two really good friends enjoying a drink together. Besides, she is still married.

As you get closer to your hotel room and there are less and less people passing by, Blake’s arm snakes around your waist. You lean back against her as you swipe your key card to open the door to your hotel room. Once inside, Blake then leans down to press soft kisses along your neck, turning you around in her arms. You drop your bag on the floor and stare into her eyes, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. 

The gaze that she holds has you captivated. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest as your mind focuses solely on Blake. You’re nervous, but she provides a sense of calm and reassurance that you need. 

Then, you both slowly lean into each other, lips beginning to part as mere inches separate your mouths. You can feel Blake’s hot breath against yours, the smell of liquor mixes between you and you’re the first to lean in further, brushing your lips against hers. 

Blake moves her hands to your waist and brings you flush against her as she presses her lips firmly against your own. It intensifies within seconds, whimpers and moans bouncing off the walls, tongue grazing each other, teeth nipping and biting at lower lips. 

You walk backwards with Blake leading you until the back of your knees touch your bed. Slowly, you lie back down and bring Blake atop of you, your legs spreading apart for her to settle between them. Blake’s lips are so soft, so smooth as she moves her lips from your own to graze along your jawline. Her hands move to the button of your shorts, undoing it quickly as she begins to unzip. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of her teeth grazing your skin at your neck, brushing against one of your many hot spots. You feel the wetness begin to pool between your legs, staining your panties and you reach down to push your shorts off your legs. 

Blake has to pull away, leaning back on her knees as she grabs the ends of her dress to lift over her head. She’s kneeling in front of you in a pair of white lace panties and bra. You lick your lower lip, grabbing your own tank top to lift over your head as you toss it to the side. 

Blake’s eyes darken with desire, realizing that you hadn’t worn a bra with your white tank top. Your chest is exposed for her and without hesitation, she leans down to pepper kisses along your chest, moving her lips closer to your peak. When her soft lips wrap around your nipple, you arch your back up into her, hand moving to rest on her shoulder. 

She then moves her focus onto your other breast as you reach up to undo her bra. You watch it fall from her frame and immediately, you gasp at the sight of her exposed front. Blake then begins to place light kisses up your chest until her lips hover above yours. Your chests press against one another and you feel Blake reach down to run her fingers across your throbbing heat, your panties completely soaked.

“I’m just as wet,” Blake whispers, pushing your panties to the side to run a finger across your folds. 

A shiver runs down your back as you part your legs even further for her, rolling your hips anxiously. Blake smiles to herself, her own heat throbbing in anticipation. From the moment Blake met you, she had always been so attracted to you. Your work ethic, your dedication, your kindness… She always felt drawn to you. 

You reach between your bodies and gently tug on her panties, feeling her wiggle them free from her legs as she hovers above you completely exposed. You slowly roll her onto her back, biting your lower lip at the sight of her. You pull your own panties off and then reach between her legs, slowly sliding a finger past her folds. 

It excites you, knowing that you’re making Blake feel this way. You watch as she rolls her eyes shut, biting her lower lip as a quiet whimper escapes her. You lean down, pressing soft kisses along her jawline as you begin to pump your finger in and out of her, slowly sliding in a second one. 

Before you can even continue and bring Blake closer to the edge, she pulls your hand away. She’s about to say something, but is ultimately left speechless when she sees you bring your fingers to your mouth and suck the remnants of her off. 

“Wow, you’re naughty,” she grins. Then, Blake pulls you down and gently moves you to rest on your abdomen. You’re about to turn over on your back, but she instead lies on her side next to you, reaching down to spread your legs. You rest your cheek against the mattress, lifting one leg up against the bed, opening yourself up for her. “I would have never guessed,” she says, moving one hand down to run along your back and down to your backside, giving it a tight squeeze. 

Blake then reaches between your legs and slides two fingers in without warning. You push back against her, a loud moan escaping your lips as she wastes no time in beginning to pump her fingers in and out of your depths. You’re so wet that the sounds of squelching echo off the walls. She rests her lips against the back of your shoulder, using her other hand to wrap around you and reach down to grasp your breast, massaging it into the pit of her palm.

She can feel you getting close. You’re squirming against her, trying to break free from the sensation because she knows that when you reach your high, you’re going to shake and tremble against her. So, Blake keeps a tight hold on you, gently biting down on the back of your shoulder as she pulls her fingers out of you and rolls you onto your back. Without waiting for you to catch your breath, she brings her hand back down and rubs your clit so fast that your hand shoots out to hold onto her wrist. 

“Oh, you’re almost there,” she grins. Your free hand grips the sheets of the mattress, knuckles turning white from the tight grip as your back begins to arch in the air, toes curling at the sensation.

“Blake,” you whimper. “Oh god, Blake!” As you begin to reach your high, Blake then thrusts two fingers back inside of you, pumping them in and out at a fast pace to allow you to ride out your orgasm. 

After a few seconds, Blake lies back down next to you and brings her fingers to her lips to suck off your release. She grins in your direction, seeing your chest heave up and down as you try to catch your breath. She then reaches for her phone and snaps a picture of the both of you. The photo isn’t revealing much– it’s just a photo of the both of you obviously lying down in bed, hair messy against the white sheets as you look completely fucked. You look so spent, so satisfied and your lower lip is caught between your teeth when she takes the picture. It’s very obvious that you two were having sex, completely naked, the frame stopping just a bit past each of your collarbones. 

You hear a quiet whoosh sound and look at her. “Did you just send that to–” Then, your phone vibrates and you reach for it on the nightstand. A few more vibrations come through and you hear her quietly whisper, shit. 

Furrowing a brow, you look down at your phone and widen your eyes. “You sent that to our group chat?! With Hugh?! Blake!” 

It’s a group chat with you, Blake, Ryan, and Hugh. Ryan loved the photograph and sent a snarky remark, but Hugh… All Hugh said was Damn. 

You toss your phone to the side and then climb on top of Blake, looking down at her. “I can’t believe you just did that.” 

“Hey,” she grins, hands resting on your hips. “As much as I enjoyed this – and we aren’t even yet done – Hugh’s the person for you… and he’s gonna certainly regret leaving you the way he did.”

You roll your eyes and lean down to peck her lips. “You’re insane,” you chuckle.

Blake shrugs, “Maybe, but you love me.”

“I do,” you chuckle, moving your lips to her jawline. “And I’m gonna show you just how much I do.” Then, you lower yourself even further until you're at eye level with her heat, leaning in instantly to lick a stripe across her folds. Oh, the night was only just beginning.

—

After a couple of days since sleeping with Blake, Ryan decides to take you out. You’re feeling a lot better since Hugh left and you had Blake and Ryan to thank. After that picture that Blake sent to the group chat, Hugh had only reached out to you once. He didn’t say much or didn’t give any indication that he had made up his mind of what he wanted, but it was enough for you. 

HUGH: I’ll see you when you get back to New York. 

One simple text unnerved you. You were excited, but nervous. Hopeful, but anxious. At least it gave you peace of mind that you would at least have a conversation with him. 

You only had a few more days left in Hawaii, so Ryan had something special planned. He didn’t say exactly what, but he did say to wear a bathing suit. So, you’re dressed in a yellow floral two-piece. Similarly to the same bikini that you wore when you saw Hugh for the first time since the trip, you tie the knots of your bottom, letting it rest on your hips as you tie your bikini top at the base of your neck and back. 

You slip on an oversized white t-shirt and grab your bag, stepping out of your hotel room to see Ryan at the end of the hall. He’s dressed in a white tank-top and light blue board shorts, paired with a baseball cap and his sunglasses hooked on his tank top. You approach him and smile, wrapping your arms around his large frame. 

“Hey, naughty girl,” he teases with a wink, pressing a gentle kiss on your temple. “I heard amazing things.”

You roll your eyes and gently slap his chest, feeling him reach for your hand to pull you against his side as he leads you back towards the elevators. “Not even a hi, good morning, how are you doing today? from you, huh?”

Ryan scoffs. “Not a chance.” He lets out a quiet laugh and then enters the elevator with you, pressing the button to the lobby as he looks at you. “But fine, hi, good morning. How are you doing today?”

You laugh with him and shake your head. “I’m okay. Hugh texted me last night.” 

Ryan’s arms cross over his chest and you notice the muscles at his arms. You bite your lower lip and then catch his gaze, a knowing smirk on his lips. “And what did our dear friend Hughie say?” 

“He said he’d see me when I get back to New York.”

“Ominous,” Ryan points out, leading you out of the elevators and towards the lobby where a car was waiting for the both of you. 

“You’re such a bad liar,” you repeat. “You already know he texted me, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” Ryan shrugs. “But maybe not.”

“You two are best friends. I’m sure you guys talk about everything.”

Ryan smirks. “Oh, we were definitely talking about that picture though.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you climb into the car with him. He tells the driver the beach that he was going to take you to and leans back in his seat, looking over at you. 

“Blake had nothing but great things to say,” he tells you. “Did you have fun? Did you like it?”

You arch a brow in his direction and nod. “I’d do it all over again.”

Ryan clears his throat, feeling his manhood stir awake as he thinks back to what Blake said about her time with you and the picture that she sent of you both in bed. He knew he liked you the minute he realized you could keep up with him. It’s also surprising at how good you can put him in his place. 

“Mm, I’d like to see that.” 

You bite your lower lip and then look up at him. “Maybe you can,” you wink teasingly. 

“No way,” he says quietly. “Really?”

A quiet silence engulfs the two of you as Ryan waits patiently for you to answer. Then, he sees you let out a quiet giggle as he reaches out to poke your side. 

“You little tease!” 

“What me and Blake do behind closed doors will only be for me and Blake’s eyes.” 

“Fine,” he says. “But at least I’ll get to have my own way with you,” Ryan whispers in your direction, seeing you lick your lower lip in anticipation.

“You’ll have to work for it,” you wink. 

“Did you give this much of a hard time for Hugh? Or is it just me?”

“Just you,” you grin. “But I do have something in mind.” 

Ryan sighs dramatically and leans against your side, looking up at you as he bats his eyelashes in your direction. “Care to share?”

“No, where’s the fun in that?” 

Ryan shakes his head and sits back up, arm draping around your shoulders. “Fine, fine. You’re worth the wait.”

Your cheeks heat up and you lean into him, shutting your eyes. You’re grateful for Blake and Ryan because they are taking your mind off Hugh and you aren’t sure where this will leave you, but you’re trying to just live in the moment. You know that you’ll be a bundle of nerves when you’re heading back to New York, anxious of the conversation that you and Hugh will have. 

“Ryan?” you ask, feeling his hand gently run along your arm. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you and Blake are okay with this?” 

Ryan hooks a finger under your chin to look up at him, his deep brown eyes staring into yours. “It’s more than okay,” he reassures you. “Even if it’s just a one time thing. We’re always gonna be here for you. No matter what.” 

You sigh contentedly and then lean back into his side. “What are we doing today?”

“Paddleboarding. Private beach. Just you and me.” 

“Oh, you’re gonna put me through a workout?” 

Ryan smirks. “Maybe afterwards.”

“If anyone’s gonna be put through a workout, Ryan, it’s gonna be you.” you wink, feeling the car stop. 

Ryan chuckles and undoes his seat belt. “Blake was right. You are naughty.” 

He climbs out of the car and walks around to your side, helping you out with a gentle hand. You climb out and stumble over your feet, falling into his chest as you look up at him, biting your lower lip as you bat your eyelashes up at him innocently. 

“Oh, don’t give me that look. We all know that you’re far from innocent,” Ryan points out, one hand resting on your waist. “Come on. Let’s at least do something that I planned.” 

You chuckle and then gently push him away, closing the car door behind you as you follow Ryan to the beach where two paddleboards are resting on the sand. The waves are calm, which should make it a bit easier. You pull off your oversized shirt and then begin reapplying sunscreen on your body, seeing Ryan’s eyes focused solely on you. He clears his throat and removes his shirt, dropping his eyes momentarily to the boards. 

“Ryan, can you get my back?” you ask, turning your back to him as you hold up your sunscreen and move your hair off to the side. 

Ryan steps up to you and takes the sunscreen, spraying it along your back as his large hands move to spread it around evenly. His front hovers dangerously close to your backside and it isn’t until you push back against him that he lets out a quiet groan. 

“We’re not gonna end up in the water if you keep doing that,” Ryan threatens playfully, moving his hands to your hips and gently giving them a squeeze. “We can always skip it and you know, move to something else.”

“Nope,” you smile, turning around to look up at him. “Let’s at least get wet.”

“You’re telling me you aren’t yet?” he winks. 

“Why don’t you check?”

Ryan bites his lower lip and reaches down between you, large hand moving into the bottom of your bikini as he drags the tip of his finger across your folders, eyes staring deeply into yours. 

“Oh,” he whispers. “Oh.” 

You lean up and run your fingertips across his chest, hands resting on his shoulders as your eyes flutter when he continues to run his finger across the length of your sex, feeling your wetness begin to pool between your legs. 

“Are you sure,” he says quietly. “You don’t want to just take this…”

“I’m sure,” you interrupt him, taking his wrist and gently pulling his hand away. You then lean up to wrap your mouth around his finger, swirling your tongue as you taste yourself. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Come on then or else I’m gonna take you on the sand.” 

“Wouldn’t be my first time on the beach,” you wink, taking your paddleboard and following him into the water.

Ryan knows that you and Hugh had sex on the beach last week. He didn’t have to even ask Hugh because his face said it all – and the marks you left along his body too. 

You and Ryan spend the next thirty minutes on the paddleboards and it calms you, even though Ryan wouldn’t stop making you laugh. It isn’t until you lose your balance that you fall into the water. When you come up and lean over your paddleboard, you see Ryan who is laughing hysterically at you. 

“Not funny!” you exclaim, moving back onto your paddleboard and lying on your back, chest heaving up and down as you shut your eyes. “I don’t have core strength like you.”

Ryan subconsciously flexes and lets his eyes rake over your frame, feeling the center of his board shorts tighten. “I mean, it was kind of funny.” 

He then jumps into the water, swimming over to you. He gently takes your paddleboard with you lying atop of it closer to him, moving one hand down your abdomen. 

“What?” you ask quietly, biting your lower lip as you look over at him. 

“Wanna head back?” Ryan asks, his voice deep and laced with desire and want. 

“Only if you say sorry,” you smirk.

“Fine,” he huffs. “I’m sorry, though, you look good all wet and–”

You then jump into the water with him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs snake around his waist. His hands move to link at your lower back, forehead resting against yours. 

“You never shut up, do you?” you whisper, lips brushing against his. 

“Never,” Ryan grins. Then, he leans in to press his lips against yours. He wastes no time in gripping your backside roughly, forcing your hips to move and roll against his growing erection. You gasp against his lips, which Ryan then takes advantage by sliding his tongue past your lips. When he releases his hold on your backside, you continue to roll your hips, yearning for more friction as you feel your walls begin to throb anxiously. 

“How about I make you?” you finally say, pulling away from him. 

“And how’s that? You gonna sit on my face?” 

You bite your lower lip, looking into his eyes as the silence engulfs you. You notice his eyes begin to widen when he realizes just exactly what you had planned and without waiting for you to respond, he begins swimming back to shore with you trailing behind. Once the water reaches your shins, Ryan takes your hand and pulls you fully out of the water with him. 

“Come on,” he says over his shoulder. Ryan takes you to a shaded area covered by trees and then lies back on the sand, not bothered by the fact that your bodies were still completely wet from the ocean. He takes you down with him, motioning for you to hover over his lips. 

“Ryan, wait,” you whisper, hands moving down to rest on the sand above his head. “I was just– We’re at the beach.”

“Thought you already had sex on the beach,” Ryan says, gazing up at you. “And I thought you wanted to shut me up. This is the only way how.” 

Your eyes narrow and then kneel at either side of him, your core hovering inches above his lips. You then undo the knots at your bikini and take it off from your body, letting it rest on the side as you feel Ryan’s hot breath against your core. He reaches up to run his thumb across the length of your sex before resting on your clit, applying firm pressure as he slowly moves the pad of his thumb in circles. 

You bite your lower lip, letting out a quiet moan. He doesn’t waste any time before he moves his lips to your core, licking a stripe along the length of your sex. You tremble against him, hands curling into fists in the sand as you slowly roll your hips against his mouth, feeling his tongue where you need him the most. 

“Mmm, goddamn,” he mumbles against you, arms hooking underneath your legs as his hands move to rest on your hips. He holds you still against him as he begins sucking at your clit, darting his tongue out to flick against your bundle of nerves. He can feel you shake against him and Ryan holds you firmly against him. He knows you want to move away, knows that the sensations are becoming too much. He then moves his hand between your legs, sliding one finger past your folds as he slowly pumps it in and out of you, tongue moving in circles around your clit. 

“Oh god,” you moan aloud, head tilting back as you bring a hand up to his hair, gripping it in a tight hold. Sand gets into his hair, but you can’t help yourself. Ryan knew just exactly what he was doing, his tongue and finger moving in time with each other. 

Then, he slides in another finger, the sounds of your wetness and his lapping it up with his mouth sounds almost filthy, paired with the backdrop of the waves clashing with each other. Your body begins to quiver, knowing that you’re about to reach your high because your walls slowly begin to tighten. 

Ryan doesn’t let up. He only pulls away to catch his breath before his mouth is back on your core. Fingers move at a faster pace, tongue firmly pressed against your clit as he moves his head in circles. 

“Ry– Ryan!” you moan aloud, pressing firmly onto him as your walls clench around his fingers, wetness pooling between your legs and down his chest. 

Ryan laps at your juices like a starved man, licking you clean as he pulls his fingers out of you. He sits up and pulls you down onto his lap, watching as your chest heaves up and down as you try to catch your breath. You look down at him, his chin glistening with your slickness and a smirk lining his lips. 

“You taste fucking good, you know that?” he grins, licking his lips as his manhood presses firmly against the fabric of his shorts. “But if I’m gonna fuck you, I want to do it on a bed.” 

That sends shivers down your back as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, nodding in agreement. “Take me back to the hotel then, Ryan.”

“Only if you admit how good that was,” he smirks proudly.

“Oh, it was amazing,” you reply. “Not only because you shut up, but because you definitely know what you’re doing.”

“And we still have the rest of the night,” he winks. 

—

It’s the last day in Hawaii and you’re packed and ready to go. The rest of the trip was a dream. You were truly spent after an eventful two weeks. You don’t remember having so much sex before Hugh, before Blake, and before Ryan. You crave more of it though. Crave more of it with each of them individually. 

And even when you’re in the plan with Blake and Ryan, they don’t make things awkward. It’s like nothing has changed except for the lingering stares, the soft touches. Their kids are fast asleep and you’re sitting across from them, eyes darted out the window. 

It isn’t until Ryan speaks first that you turn your attention to them both.

“So,” he says, leaning forward. “Blake and I want to just tell you how amazing this trip has been. This last week, especially.”

Blake nods in agreement, flashing you a smile. “And we also want to tell you that we’re always going to be here,” she adds. “In whatever way you need or want.” 

“And it won’t mess with our friendship? Your marriage?” you ask hesitantly, biting your lower lip. 

Blake and Ryan shake their heads simultaneously. “If anything, I think it’ll just make us stronger,” Ryan points out.

Blake agrees. “You just bring something… Animalistic out of us.”

You smile shyly, biting your lower lip. “These last two weeks have been a dream,” you admit. “I don’t know how I’m going to go back to work and the real world after that.” 

“Well, our door is always open,” Ryan winks. 

“But I bet you’re ready to see Hugh,” Blake comments. 

“I’m nervous, but yeah. I’m ready to see him.” You reply, reaching out to rest your hands on each of theirs. Ryan and Blake had not only given you peace of mind, but memories that you would cherish forever. “I love you guys.” 

Ryan smiles and pecks your lips. Blake does the same, lingering as she pulls away. 

“We love you too.” 

—

Back in New York, you’re already deep in your work. It had been a full week since coming back from your trip and while you still regularly spoke with Blake and Ryan, even going so far as to spending the night with them, you still have yet to hear from Hugh. 

—

Hugh, Ryan, and Blake are walking, hearing the sounds of cameras going off as they pay no attention to the paparazzi. They’re making their way to your coffee shop, dressed so casually and completely different from what they had been wearing while in Hawaii. 

“Wait, wait, so you two–” Hugh says, looking down at Blake and then over at Ryan. 

Blake nods. “Ryan too.”

Hugh’s eyes widen, feeling jealousy settle in the pit of his stomach as he looks over at his best friend. “You and–”

“Don’t worry,” Ryan grins. “She’s only got eyes for you, which, by the way–” he says. “Dick move leaving her in Hawaii.”

“I needed time to think, mate.” Hugh says, shrugging a shoulder. “And you should have warned me that you had invited her.”

Blake gently nudges Hugh’s shoulder, arms crossed over his chest as they continue walk down the street. “By the way, was she naughty with you too?” Blake asks, biting her lower lip. “I mean, she’s just so innocent looking and then behind closed doors, it’s just the complete opposite.”

“Oh, I know!” Ryan chuckles. “I mean, she shut me up by riding my face–”

“Okay, okay,” Hugh says, shaking his head. “She does like to be dominant in bed,” he answers. “It’s quite hot, really.” Then, he points at Ryan and grins. “She rode my face too, but it’s not a competition, so…” 

Blake looks between the two and lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head. “Yeah, but I think I win. I’m not gonna tell you exactly what we did, but I will give you a number.”

“A number?” Hugh and Ryan ask, approaching your coffee shop.

Blake nods. “69.” Then, she steps inside and walks towards you, pulling you into a tight hug. Hugh and Ryan look at each other with wide eyes before they both step inside, watching as Blake’s hands run along your back and your face buried against the side of her neck.

“I just told the boys what we did,” Blake whispers, pulling away to look down at you. 

“Is that why they look like that?” you point out, looking over at Ryan and Hugh who both have slightly wide eyes and a shocked expression. 

Blake turns around and wraps an arm around your shoulders, leaning against your side as you both erupt into a fit of giggles. “Yeah,” she laughs. “That’s exactly why they look like that.” 

You shake your head with a smile and then look over at Hugh, eyes locking with his. You’re instantly aware of all the moments you shared in Hawaii, the deep conversations, the laughter, the sex… You wonder if he’s thinking the same thing and you have to let out a quiet laugh when you see Ryan gently nudge him forward. 

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Blake says, kissing your cheek. “If you need anything, babe, just let us know.” 

You nod and then walk towards Hugh, meeting him in the middle of your coffee shop. 

“Hi,” you say quietly. 

“Hey, baby.” Hugh responds. “Can we go talk?” 

You nod and lead him to your office in the back. His hand rests lightly on your lower back, following you to your office. When you step inside with him, he shuts the door and takes a seat, pulling you gently down next to him. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out.

You don’t respond. You don’t even look at him because you know that if you do, you’re going to lose your resolve and give into him. 

“I just needed time to think and I couldn’t do that with you there,” Hugh admits. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want this,” he corrects himself.

“You left me in Hawaii,” you finally say. “After an amazing week with each other, you left. Don’t you think I had things to figure out too? That maybe I also needed time to think?” 

Hugh sighs. “It was selfish of me, and I’m sorry. I just got scared because I know what will happen if I give this my all. It’s just who I am. If you’re with me, I’m making you a priority.” he bites his lower lip, gently taking your hand in his. “If you’ll have me–”

“Of course I want you, Hugh,” you interrupt him. “I’ve wanted you for months now. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know that I want to give it a chance. I want to try.” 

Hugh breaks out into a small smile and then pulls you onto his lap, lips hovering against yours. “Me too, baby.” Then, he leans in to press his lips against yours. It’s a different type of kiss than what you’re used to. It’s not filled with an urgency to rip each other’s clothes off. Instead, it’s slow and soft – like it’s the first time he’s kissing you, memorizing every inch of your lips. 

You have to pull away, remembering that you’re still on the job. You look deeply into his eyes and rest your forehead against his. There’s a comfortable silence that fills the room, just gazing into each other’s eyes as an unspoken excitement engulfs the both of you. 

“So, Blake and Ryan, huh?” he says, breaking the moment with a smirk.

You blush and nod slowly, pulling away to look at him. “They were there for me.”

“Good,” Hugh says. “That photograph of you and Blake though…” he growls lowly. “I think you’ll have to tell me one day all the things you both did that night.”

“I can give you a number,” you repeat teasingly. 

Hugh smirks, standing to place you on the edge of your desk. “Maybe you and me will have to give that a try,” he says, standing between your legs. “What do you say?”

“Oh, I’d say yes please.” 

Hugh grins and then presses his lips back against your own. You know that this this only the beginning of a beautiful relationship with him.

On the other side of the door, Blake and Ryan are eavesdropping, a grin lining their lips as they lean against one another. “We did it,” he whispers. 

“We did,” Blake smiles proudly.

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Embers of the past. // Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: ANGST, war, grief, loss, major character death(s), hurt/no comfort, tragedy + not proofread

WC: 1.1k

A/N: first time writing pure angst IDK 😭 I couldn't sleep and I wrote this short fic so uhm 😀

He reminisced about you quite often, about the moments you both spent together; in youth and in adulthood.

“Aemond?” You call out his name and he wakes up from his slumber, your face hovering over his as the sunlight scatters around your form because of the way you blocked it with your head.

“Y/N?” He groans, rubbing his eyes as he properly sat up, fully awake now, “Yes, It is me, The septa is looking for you at the request of Ser Criston Cole” You tell him, and he looks around, “You know how she is, He will say how un-princely it is to fall asleep under the godswood!” You pull him by his arm, rolling at the thought of the septa lecturing you both, and he gets up, before brushing off the dust from his clothes.

“Let us go now, otherwise You'll be late for your training.” You quickly urge him, dragging him along by the arm and he stumbles forwards but immediately picks up pace. “Will you be watching me train again today?” He asks and you nod eagerly, “I love seeing you train.” you reply, causing him to blush before locking your arm with his and moving to the training grounds.

He remembered how in his youth you used to stare at him in awe whenever he trained, that stare never changed, it felt as though you always saw a side of him that no one ever did, your eyes filled with pure admiration, solely for him alone.

He admired you as well.

His admiration grew with age, as you both grew up, it turned into an emotion that would soon engulf you both into pieces, burn you both alive in its flames of passion. Love.

He loved everything about you.

The way you spoke, the way your voice would become a pitch higher whenever you talk of your interests, the way your eyes would gleam with brightness as you stared at him, the way your face would brighten up when you would see him.

He adored you so much.

So why is that your eyes which once beamed so brightly seem soulless? Your face is void of any expression which was once always smiling, your body so cold to the touch, no longer providing the warmth he once basked in. Why?

His grip on your body tightened as he was lost in thought, “My prince…” Ser Criston's Cole’s voice was filled with nothing but pity, but why was it filled with pity anyway?

He remembers now.

You had died.

Taken away from him, a cruel punishment for his action of accidentally slaying his own nephew, his own kin. He couldn't save you in time as the men sent by Daemon Targaryen had arrived before he could even reach out.

He walked into a room where the floor was covered in blood, your body lying amidst it with your gown stained with your own vital fluid.

He thought he had lost a part of him even forever when he lost his eye, but the day he lost you was the day he lost himself.

He became a ghost of a person he was before, his mind filled with nothing but grief and sorrow, Did he truly deserve it? You had done nothing wrong to be the victim of such a crime, it should be him that should be dead because of his own actions, not you.

Yet the gods were cruel.

Aemond, turned mad, unable to deal with the grief that weighed upon him so heavily which he turned to endless training and bloodshed, venting his frustrations out in such a way.

Till he met Alys Rivers.

“I know of the troubles you suffer from my prince, I can help you.” She had told him the moment he met her, and he scoffed, almost chuckling at her stupidity, “I know the sorrows that weigh upon you, my prince, the way you dearly miss her.” It was what caught Aemond's attention, how did she know of you? The only ones that knew were the ones closest to him.

“I can help you avenge her, but…” Those first few words were enough for Aemond to agree with Alys, she need not say more, in return, he helped her live a secure life than before, providing protection to her while she exchanged the visions she used to see.

It was all what led to the moment.

Him facing off his uncle above the God's eye.

The dragons roared as the fight begin, attacking one another for few minutes, struggling to gain the upperhand until Vhagar caught Caraxes by the neck, causing the dragon to panic and yank Daemon off, but Daemon held on tightly, his plan changing, jumping off his dragon in a suicide-mission to deliver the final blow to Aemond.

Yet he failed and fell to his death.

Aemond thought he had won, and that he had finally avenged you.

But he plummeted from the skies, watching both the dragons fight above him, he was knocked off from his dragonback when Caraxes lunged at Vhagar in order to avenge his rider,

As Aemond descended through the air, he had remembered what Alys had said to him. “You will see her once again after defeating your uncle.”

He understood what it meant now.

He reminisced about everything, everything leading up to now, each and every moment he spent with you, suddenly he felt alive as each second passed on and time moved forwards, how ironic as he was falling to his death. Yet it did not feel that way to him, he did not feel the doom anyone would feel nearing their death, instead he felt more alive than he ever did in the days he spent living without you.

Even as the air felt like a million spikes being shoved into his body, he found peace in it, the way the harsh air penetrated through his clothes and hair felt anything but terrible, contrary to it, he oddly found solace.

The waters welcomed his body as though they were waiting for him, Aemond found it harder to breathe, yet he did not struggle; simply closing his eye and welcoming death, accepting his fate. He felt as if he was only mere moments away from you.

Maybe in death, he won't be separated from you.

Even in his final moments, his mind refused to wander off to anywhere but you.

As the life left his body, he had only one thing in his mind.

Your face that smiled ever so brightly and warmly at him, just as the way you used to.

[deepestnightcolor]

Just imagine Elliot ranting to his friend (Reader) how he just can‘t really put the scene from his mind onto paper, the reader of course would love to help him…

turns out the scene was about a beautiful woman masturbating, that lands her on Elliots bed with him telling her how to touch herself (to get it as accurate as possible of course) with him so close to her, watching and analyzing her every movement while he takes notes for his story

(You can add as much to it as you want)

ᴀ/ɴ: Okay, anon, wow. What is your BRAIN! I drooled a little over this, honestly. And I was SO excited to write this. I hope I hit the right spots with this, because hehehe. Had my head go brrrrrr. Thank you so much for your time and attention and your willingness to request! <3

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Elliott (SDV) x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 2007 words.

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: alcohol consumption, masturbation, making out, being watched while masturbating, finger fucking, teasing, pining.

☾ ʙᴇ ᴍʏ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ ☽

Usually, Elliott tried to avoid talking about his writing on Fridays. The reason for that was simple: Fridays were spent with you in the saloon and needed to be honoured.

This Friday was different, though. Something was bothering Elliott, and even though he tried not to show it, he did show it. On accident, of course. A dramatic sigh left his lips, wettened by the beer he was sipping, eyes looking out of the window wistfully. His whole body language screamed “HELP ME OVERCOME THIS WRITING PROBLEM”, and you just weren’t one to let your friends suffer.

“What is it, Elliott?” You asked, leaning your elbows on the table so you could take a closer look at the author. “It’s nothing,” he sighed, voice filled to the brim with drama and expiration. “You sure?” “Yesss, everything is finnnnneeee.” The stretched-out “fine” ended in a drawn-out sigh, hazel eyes looking up at you, just begging for you to ask again. You sipped your own drink, eyebrow cocked at him. “You suuuuuuureeeee?” “I mean, it’s Friday...,” Elliott began, his lips now pushed forward in a cute little pout, “I don’t talk about my writing on Fridays.” “And if I tell you that it really is fine?” “Well…Maybe I would be able to make an exception then,” he murmured, adding a quiver to your lower lip. Oh, Elliott. So cute, so dramatic, lying it on thick for you today.

“Alright, it really is fine for you to tell me about you-“ “There is this scene I am struggling with,” he quickly began, scared you could change your mind faster than he could get his words out, “and I think you would be the perfect aid.” You hummed, licking your lips clean from the stickiness of the alcohol. “Is that so? And what is that scene about?”

The shimmer of mischief in Elliott’s eyes should have worried you, even more so when it was combined with him lowering his voice to a hushed whisper, telling you how he needed to tell you at his shed. It wouldn’t work here, you see, confidential information would be shared with ears that shouldn’t yet hear it. So of course you agreed, following your friend to his home without even a seed of doubt planted in your mind. “You want what?” You asked, disbelief drenching your voice. “I know, I know, it must sound absolutely ridiculous, yet you must consider! I am stuck on this scene, and I could use a beautiful muse like you!” “So, and just to be clear I heard you right, you want me to masturbate in front of you!” Elliott gave you this awkward, pleading grin, head cocked to the side: “Uh…Yes. Though it would be professional, I promise! No words will be shed about this – I just… I just really could use it for my book.” His hands clasped together as if he was silently begging you, and yet again he pulled his face into that cute little pout. “Pretty please…It is one of the last elements of my book and I-“ “Fine.” Surprise flashed over Elliott’s face, and really, you yourself were surprised. Both of you had expected that it would have taken a lot more to convince you, yet who was Elliott to complain? “Great, great! Thank you so, so much, darling! How about you lay down and get comfortable already, and I will just get my pen and paper.” “You will take notes about this?” “Why, yes!” Well, that had answered it, hadn’t it?

You took a deep, shaky breath as you began to take off your top, the little skirt that you had thrown on for the saloon. After a moment of hesitation, you even discarded the bra that had been holding your tits up, allowing them to bounce free. With a glance in Elliott’s direction, you allowed yourself to slowly find a spot on his mattress, but as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were surrounded by his scent. It would have been a complete and utter lie if you had tried to say that this didn’t begin to turn you on; lying almost naked in your friend’s bed, surrounded by his smell. About to be watched by him. Goosebumps arose on your skin, your clit twitching gently at the thought. You had always found Elliott handsome, but he had always seemed to keep his distance; most often hiding himself behind his manuscripts. This…was incredibly raw and open.

The sound of a chair’s legs scratching along the ground caught your attention. Elliot’s flustered face appeared in your field of vision, leading you to blush as well.

“You look…stunning,” he whispered. There was no dramatics in his voice, no exaggeration. Only that sweet, honest compliment. You gave him a smile, biting down on your lower lip. He had taken off his coat by now and rolled up his sleeve; his hair tied back in a top knot. He looked absolutely delicious himself, the way he started to write his notes. Hazel eyes taking you in completely, just to scribble something down on the paper. He had lit up a candle on the nightstand, the flickering flame accenting his sharp features in a way that made you want to drag him onto the bed with you, but instead, you slowly let your fingers slip down your neck, to your breast. The movement caught Elliott’s attention, and you could feel his gaze following the dance of your fingertips. You, on the other hand, shamelessly focused your attention on him. Being watched like this had a thrill to it that you hadn’t expected, but now fucking loved. Your thumb was now caressing your own nipple gently, mind wandering to the thoughts ofhow it would feel if Elliott was the one doing it. The goosebumps that appeared in your skin weren’t solely because of the pleasure you felt from teasing your nipples, but also because you believed Elliott’s hands on you would feel much better.

He scribbled something down again as your hand travelled down further, catching the hem of your panties. You lifted your hips, slowly sliding them off your hips. Your lower lip was bitten as you felt the air brush your cunt, and the throw of your panties towards Elliott definitely wasn’t an accident.

His eyes lingered on your cunt as it was exposed, taking it in with a deep inhale. He wrote something down, then scribbled over it, running a palm through his hair while shifting on his seat. “Oh, yes,” you whispered as your thumb caught your clit, giving the bundle gentle flicks of your thumb. Elliott swallowed thickly, his feather scratching the paper in a newfound frantic. You pressed your feet in the mattress and spread your legs wider, your eyes slipping shut as the gentle waves of pleasure washed over you. You had only just started, but feeling Elliott stare at you like this…Yoba, it made you wet. As if to prove it to him, you allowed a single digit to run through your folds, only to suck it into your mouth. The low groan coming from next to you caught your attention, yet when you looked, Elliott was fixated on the paper, feather just barely able to follow all the words that were supposed to spill out of it.

You slowly allowed your hand to pick up the journey along the curves of your body again, slowly stroking up and down your thighs with quivering fingers. You knew a pair of hazel eyes were following each and every touch, and you easily began to rub your clit again. More warmed up than the first time, you let a moan of pleasure leave your lips, not even opening your eyes when you heard Elliott shift on his chair, his hot breath hitting your skin soon after. “Mhhh,” you cooed, arching your back in a little just for show, dipping a finger into your cunt, your perverted mind wishing it was the author’s dick instead.

The quivering gasp next to you was the first thing that caught your attention. Looking over at the man, you could see that his hand was placed firmly in his lap, eyes wide. “What’s wrong, Elliott? Got a little hard there?” You whispered. Pride that your looks turned him on so much filled you, making you add another finger. The brunet grunted, shifting in his seat again under the pretence of getting more comfortable, but the lustful expression gave him away.

“You just look so luscious,” he breathed, his hand now wrapping around his shaft through his pants with barely an ounce of shame. “So pretty for me,” he added, willing himself to at least pretend to write down some more notes.

You didn’t really care about that, your eyes were now solely focused on his hard dick, just barely hidden behind his hand. Fucking yourself with your fingers, you whimpered his name, causing his attention to snap towards you.

You were close, you could feel the orgasm building up beneath your touch, but you just…you just needed a little more. “Elliott, kiss me? Fuck, please,” you whispered, a high-pitched moan leaving your mouth as you circled your clit again. Elliott’s lips pressed against yours in a captivating kiss; teeth clattering against teeth, tongues battling for dominance. Even though you had just asked him for a kiss, his hands automatically began to roam, finding your clit with ease and replacing your thumb there. Him rubbing patterns into the bundle of nerves while his tongue licked over yours sent shocks of pleasure up your spine, leaving your brain light and empty. In all honesty, Elliott couldn’t hold back anymore. His hips sloppily and greedily humped against your thigh while he rubbed your clit, sucking on your tongue with a tenderness you had expected from him, but also with greed that made your heat throb.

“El- Gonna-“

He didn’t let you finish the sentence, too busy to fill your mouth with his tongue again, his humping growing faster against your leg. The squeal that left you made him moan lowly, rubbing the bundle of nerves despite your orgasm already being torn out of you.

Your free hand reached for Elliott’s hair, tugging the long strands as you moaned, your body spasming at the feeling of your orgasm recking through you. Not even the tug caused Elliott to show any signs of mercy, his thumb steadily kept up its circling, with him only pulling away from the kiss to watch you shiver and squirm beneath his late touch.

“Elliott!” You cried out, eyes rolling back as you felt one of his fingers enter your sensitive gushing cunt, the grin on his face almost diabolic. “Are you going to cum a second time, my muse? It would be great for my story,” he whispered to you, working his finger into you while his thumb was still tracing patterns on your clit. His lips peppered gentle kisses upon your chest, making your heart thump against your ribcage.

“Elliott, can’t, oh, Yoba!” You tried to hold on to his wrist, but his merciless treatment of your slit didn’t even falter. “El! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your body squirmed away and drew closer, like the tides at the beach, but in the end, he still pushed you over the edge. With a quivering cry you released, your hips snapping up to get the author’s finger knuckle deep within you, your legs spreading and snapping close – it was as if your body was malfunctioning.

As your back met the mattress, Elliott’s fingers on you began slowing down. Gentle kisses were casted upon your skin, attempting to calm you down. Your hand was still buried in Elliott’s hair as he came down next to you, one arm wrapped around your waist. In the bliss of two orgasms, you rolled around and slowly snuggled into his side, pressing your face into his chest.

“You know,” you whispered after a while, voice still hoarse, “I think your book really needs a sex scene…And I know just the muses.”

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Sparring Matches

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: The BAU undergoes PT evaluations, that includes sparring matches. And in the ring will be the secret couple, tipping off the rest of the team.

Warnings: Canon level violence secret relationship, slight suggestive language

Word Count: 2.7k

Masterlist

The BAU were all sat in the bullpen trying to get work done when their Unit Chief, and Y/N’s secret boyfriend, walked out of his office, overseeing his team. “I have some bad news,” he announced, catching everyone’s attention.

“Another case?” Rossi guessed, coming out of his own office.

“No, the new Section Chief wants us to perform physical evaluations.” That earned groans from Spencer and Garcia. Meanwhile Derek and Emily were already placing bets about how each other would perform in each activity.

“But we haven’t had to do physical training in years because of field hours!” Reid protested.

Internally Aaron chucked at the doctor’s childlike protest, reminding him of Jack when he didn’t want to do something. “I’m sorry but he’s insistent and won’t be allowing waivers for any of you… except Rossi as well as Garcia because she’s never in the field.”

“Whoo!” she cheered, earning another groan from Spencer.

“And due to a recent incident… we will also be evaluated in hand to hand combat.” Everyone on the team turned to look at Y/N.

“He snuck up on me!” she defended for the millionth time. “I still beat him.”

“Still got a broken rib out of it,” Derek informed tauntingly.

“You’re one to talk,” she scoffed. “You throw yourself through doors even if they’re unlocked.”

“Oh yeah? We’ll see who fairs better in the ring.”

Before Y/N could get another jab in her boyfriend spoke. “Seeing as we are one of the most hands on units the Section Leader wants us to compete with each other so he can get an idea of our capabilities and because we are the most evenly matched. Thank you,” he dismissed, promptly walking back into his office so he didn’t have to witness anymore bickering. As much as Aaron loved the team, especially Y/N, he didn’t enjoy their bickering for prolonged periods of time.

Later that night at home, Aaron and Y/N were discussing the upcoming PT tests. “Why does he want us to fight each other?” she asked, plating their dinners.

“He said that based on reports we end up in physical combat a little too often,” he answered, setting the table. “He said that if we struggle too much then he’ll make it mandatory for us to have SWAT more often and no one will be allowed to move in on an unsub without SWAT presence.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous,” Y/N cried, carrying over the food. “Stupid bureaucrats thinking their ideas are god’s gift to the FBI without even being in the field within the past five years.”

Aaron chucked, taking his seat across from her. “Well an evaluation isn’t too bad of an idea considering…” his voice trailed off as both recalled the weeks Y/N spent lying in bed waiting for her rib to mend itself enough so she could walk.

Y/N blushed, always getting intensely embarrassed whenever anyone brought that up. “He was twice my size and snuck up on me. And then I still managed to pin him with a broken rib,” she pointed out.

“Yes you did,” Aaron agreed, admiring her scowl.

“So do you know who will be fighting who?”

“Yes, it’s a mix of someone you’re fairly evenly matched with and someone who’s very different. You and Prentiss will spar, as will JJ and Reid, then I’ll be against Morgan. As for the opposites I believe it will be Prentiss and Reid, JJ and Morgan, and then you and I?”

��You and I will spar?”

“Yes, don’t worry I won’t blindside you,” he chuckled.

“Oh I’m not worried about that,” she smirked coyly. “I’m a bit younger than you, a bit more spry if you will.”

“Well I don’t know that I can call you younger considering you just used the word ‘spry.’ Besides it’s not a competition.”

“Sure,” she hummed sarcastically.

That only egged on the normally cool Unit Chief. He put his utensils down, forgetting his meal before hardening his expression. The same look he gave the team when he needed them to stop behaving like children, causing Y/N to squirm. “I guarantee you I’ll have you pinned by the end of it. I’ve never had difficulty pinning you before.” Y/N choked on the sip of wine she was drinking at that comment. Before she could say anything her boyfriend was at her side with a napkin. “Be careful, Y/N,” he said slyly, bringing the napkin under her chin. She stared at him in disbelief at his ostentatiousness as he backed away, trailing the napkin across her skin with a smirk.

~

After a week of intense sexual tension it was sparring day. Everyone was stretching in the FBI wrestling room except for Spencer who looked like he’d pass out. “Don’t worry Spence, I’ll go easy on you tomorrow,” Emily smirked.

He looked dissatisfied but took it with a sarcastic “Thanks.”

JJ and Spencer were the first to get in the circle but as soon as the whistle blew and JJ started advancing at him he dropped to the ground. “I yield,” he pled, raising his hands.

“C’mon pretty boy, you gotta do better than that,” Derek called. But Reid was completely unwilling to fight if there was no real danger so JJ was declared the winner.

Next up were Y/N and Emily. “Be careful, Y/N. I’m kind of infamous for hand to hand combat,” Emily bragged.

“I was a marine for four years,” Y/N shrugged arrogantly.

“Whoo girl fight,” Derek jeered from the sidelines.

“Shut up, Derek,” both women called, not moving their gazes from each other.

Also from the sidelines Aaron was resisting the urge to tell Prentiss to go easy on Y/N. Not only would it infuriate Y/N, it would clue the team into their relationship. Hiding a relationship from profilers was difficult but so far Aaron felt that they had managed. As the whistle was blown, Aaron watched in mild horror, keeping his expression hardened, as his girlfriend fought another very highly trained FBI agent.

Derek and Reid came to their boss’ side. “My money’s on Prentiss, she’s stronger,” Derek bet.

Aaron stayed silent, worried he’d betray some sensitive information while being so focused on the fight. Fortunately for him, Reid chimed in with his analysis. “While Emily was a part of Interpol, a very specialized group of agents, Y/N’s younger and more agile. Her training in the marines, while not having as much focus on hand to hand combat, will help her and I’d argue makes her stronger than Emily considering the amount of carbo loading they do.”

Before Morgan could disagree Aaron watched as Y/N pinned Prentiss by literally sitting on her back and pulling Emily’s arm behind her back up in the air. When the whistle blew, declaring Y/N the winner she simply stood up, helped her teammate stand, and went to the bench for her water bottle without a word, not wanting to humiliate her teammate anymore.

Next it was Aaron and Derek stepping onto the mat. Y/N watched them with unwavering eyes, hoping her expression wasn’t too worried. Aaron was tough, he got into more than his fair share of scraps with unsubs and he was still strong and fit. But Derek was well… Derek. He practically lived at the gym when we weren’t on missions and had the most takedowns on the team, preferring to throw himself at the unsub rather than shoot.

Y/N forced herself to look away from the mat, turning her attention to JJ who was approaching. “This should be interesting,” she commented, observing the flurry of fists.

Y/N hummed in agreement, busying herself with the objects in her bag. “Yeah but Derek’s got him. Hotch is tough but Derek’s favorite pastime is taking down unsubs.” Looking up Y/N couldn’t help but cringe as Derek landed a punch on Aaron’s face but he took it like a champ, barely even flinching before pushing Derek back.

The match was long and bitter but it ended with Morgan pinning his boss to the mat. Both were exhausted with labored breaths as the whistle blew. The second it did, Derek moved off of Aaron, sitting at his side trying to catch his breath. Emily went over to Morgan, leaving Y/N the opportunity to go over to her boyfriend without making it too obvious.

“C’mon,” she said as casually as possible, helping him off the mat. Helping him over to the bench she brought him his water bottle, as did Emily for Morgan.

“We’ll continue onto the next portion tomorrow,” the ref informed us before taking his leave.

At Aaron’s house, Y/N was trying to treat his cuts and bruises as best she could. “Are you sure you’re up to sparring tomorrow?” she asked, placing an ice pack against his bruised jaw.

“I’m fine, just some superficial cuts and bruises,” he dismissed.

“Still that was pretty brutal, I could hardly watch.”

Aaron took the cold compress she had been using on him earlier, pressing it to her visibly bruised collarbone. “Was hard to watch you too,” he murmured, feeling a little embarrassed about being so sentimental and protective.

Y/N smiled softly, trying her best to hide it so her boyfriend wouldn’t get too embarrassed. “Let’s get you to bed,” she suggested, helping him up. “This is the longest we’ve gone without a case in a while. You should enjoy it.”

“By sleeping?”

“Yes, sleep is one of my favorite things.”

~

By the next morning Aaron’s face was mostly healed and it was time for the other sparring matches. First up: JJ and Morgan.

While JJ was far more agile and quicker than Derek, all it took was him getting a grip on her and she was pinned.

Next up were Reid and Prentiss. Spencer didn’t immediately collapse but after she swept his leg he never got back up.

And finally it was the two secret lovers. “Don’t worry, L/N, I won’t blindside you,” Aaron smirked just like he did when he first told her they’d be fighting. This was also the first instance of teasing the team had ever seen from their stoic boss.

“You couldn’t move fast enough,” Y/N sneered in return.

With the blow of the whistle both advanced, trying to gain the upper hand. As Aaron tried to grab Y/N she dropped down, kicking him in the legs. It wasn’t enough to knock him down though, only sending him stumbling a few steps. As Y/N was scrambling up, Aaron had already regained his footing. Approaching her again he grabbed her wrist giving him the opportunity to punch her in the face but he hesitated, not wanting to hit a woman much less the woman he loved. His hesitation gave her enough time to twist her arm from his grip. Taking the opportunity once again, she kicked at his legs, sending him sprawling on the ground. She then straddled his abdomen, smirking in victory. But Aaron wasn’t done yet, easily flipped her so now she laid on the mat with him straddling her hips. He watched in amusement as her eyes widened in shock and she tried to struggle free but it was no use seeing as Aaron was twice her size.

The whistle blew again bringing both back to the present. Keenly aware of the position they were in in front of the entire team, Aaron immediately scrambled up onto his feet. Reaching a friendly, professional hand down, he helped Y/N up. “Good match,” he said awkwardly before scurrying off to the bench where his water bottle sat.

Y/N took a second to catch her breath, trying to figure out what would be the least awkward and obvious next move. Fortunately for her, JJ was already bringing her her water bottle. “Thanks,” she wheezed.

“Yeah, how’re you feeling?” JJ sympathized, also just having taken a bit of a beating.

“Aside from having the wind knocked out of me? Fine. I’ll just need a few minutes,” Y/N coughed out.

On the other side of the gym Derek had the biggest grin on his face, very much enjoying teasing his boss. “That was quite the match. Interesting method of pinning L/N.”

Hotch was trying to quickly think of a way to dismiss Morgan without drawing too much attention to him and Y/N. So he just gave him the stern Unit Chief look that instantly shut everyone up. “That’s not appropriate,” was all he said before exiting towards the locker rooms, eager to be back in the safe authority of his suits.

On his way out it took most of his willpower not to think too much about the way he had his girlfriend pinned.

~

The sound of Aaron’s ringtone jolted the two FBI agents up. Aaron grabbed the phone from his nightstand, keeping an arm wrapped around Y/N as she pulled the sheets tighter, cuddling into his chest. She let out a soft groan at being woken up as Aaron answered it. “Hello?” he answered in his groggy morning voice. After a few seconds of muffled information from Garcia he spoke again. “Okay call the rest of the team. I’ll be right there.”

“Another case?” Y/N asked, not even thinking.

“Yeah, sounds like a serial killer in SoHo,” Aaron informed as he hung up. Realizing what just happened he cursed. “Shit.”

“What?” Y/N asked, still gaining her bearings.

“I hadn’t hung up yet.”

“Shit,” Y/N cursed as well. “Okay it’s fine, if anyone says anything you fell asleep on the couch with Jack.”

“Yeah, okay,” Aaron agreed beginning to get dressed in the dark.

Y/N’s phone then went off. “Hello?” she answered, already knowing who would be on the other line.

“Good news, we’re going to New York City, bad news there’s a serial killer,” Penelope announced.

“Okay, I’ll-”

“Ow!” Aaron deep yell and a crash cut Y/N off.

“Was that Hotch?” Penelope gasped in shock.

“No!” Y/N answered too quickly. “Uh no,” she tried to answer more nonchalantly, “it was a guy but definitely not Hotch.” She cringed at her words.

“Ooh details,” Garcia begged.

“Another time,” she promised. “I have to get dressed. See you in 15.” And with that she hung up. She groaned, throwing herself back onto the pillows. “They’re definitely going to figure it out. I don’t have my car and I live on the other side of town we won’t make it.”

“We’ll walk in a few minutes separated. We still have plausible deniability,” Aaron tried to soothe Y/N. “It’ll be fine.”

“You’re surprisingly calm about this,” she observed, getting up to find her clothes.

“Would it be such a bad thing if they found out?” he asked shyly.

“No,” she answered, “not the team. I worry about the Section Chief and others.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it if I have to,” Aaron promised, wrapping his girlfriend in his arms before pressing a kiss to her temple.

Once they pulled into one of the far parking lots, the couple scoped out the other cars as best they could from their seats. “I think we’re good,” Y/N informed. “Follow me in like 3 minutes later?”

Aaron nodded as Y/N opened her door but the second she opened the door, Derek’s car pulled up with Garcia in the passenger seat. “I knew that was Hotch’s voice!” she yelled.

The couple groaned. “Not a word to anyone outside the team, got it?” Y/N immediately demanded.

“Of course, of course,” Derek promised.

“When did you know?” Aaron asked.

“We all had our suspicions but we knew during your sparring match. You were way too comfortable sitting on top of each other. And then my lovely Ms. Garcia’s phone calls confirmed you spent the night together,” Derek smirked.

Meanwhile Garcia was already group calling Emily, Spencer, JJ, and Rossi. “Hotch and L/N confirmed,” she squealed.

Masterlist

[moviecritc]

second best ⋆ max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x teammate!reader

summary: max realizes that your situationship isn't going anywhere, so he decides to start a pr relationship for his own public image

word count: 1K

warnings: angst, hurt without comfort

a/n: this turned out amazing actually, i'm very proud of it <3 yk i loveee to write abt this blond dutch

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

“I think it's better if we stop seeing each other.”

Y/N frowned slightly. She was under Max's arm, lying on the bed in the hotel in Imola.

“We’re on the same team, Maxie. We see each other all the time,” she said, completely oblivious to what Max was saying. She even smiled a little.

“I mean this,” Max sat up, forcing her to do the same. He swallowed a bit. “I think we should stop sleeping together.”

Y/N pressed her lips together and wiped the trace of sweat from her forehead. “Oh,” was all she could articulate as she chewed over that sentence. “Why?”

“For our careers,” he said immediately, as if he had it premeditated. “There are already a lot of rumors, if this got out…”

“What?” That didn’t make any sense. “We've been sleeping together for over a year, and now all of a sudden you're worried about rumors. Don’t bullshit me, Max. What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N felt around the edge of the bed, searching for her underwear.

“I'm telling you, this is affecting our careers.”

Y/N clicked her tongue and stood up, finishing getting dressed. “Bullshit, Max. When you want to tell me what's really going on, let me know.”

Y/N left the room, slamming the door. Max leaned back, knowing that Y/N was right. It wasn’t about their careers, but about the pressure. His father and the rest of the team were pressuring him to have a relationship with a model, and YN was an obstacle in that equation.

Max never explained anything to her. They stopped seeing each other outside of work environments and even while working, they avoided each other as much as possible. Y/N refused to feel hurt. It wasn’t a breakup because there was nothing to break. In the end, they were just two teammates with too much sexual tension to satisfy. Even if that tension lasted a year and a half, three vacations together, a Christmas dinner, and countless private dates.

Y/N was determined to move on, focusing on her job, fighting for the title, and maybe—just maybe—accepting that date with Carlos at the end of the season.

But Max had other ideas, because two weeks after the breakup, the pages were on fire because finally, someone had conquered the cold heart of Max Verstappen. He and a woman nine years older had been seen dining and kissing in Monaco.

She was surprised, that was the last thing she expected from Max. Nine years older than him. Y/N couldn't help but dig a little, stalking her profile and seeing how pretty she was. That really hurt, had it meant so little to him?

Y/N flew to Monaco alone when she used to go in Max's private jet. From then on, she realized how much Max was in her routine. Arriving at her apartment, she found it cold with the plants dried up; she hardly had any clothes there. She knew she’d have to write to Max to get her things back, but she delayed it as long as possible—which wasn’t long. Y/N wrote to her friends to see if they wanted to go out, but no one responded; she hadn't written to them in over four months.

She spent that night alone at home, looking at her phone every now and then without expecting any messages. She found herself drinking and then went out for a walk, desperate to feel something. The next morning, photos of her were out, looking horrible with traces of mascara under her eyes. She also woke up to a simple message from Max:

Can we meet?

They agreed to meet at her apartment, Y/N knew the way almost with her eyes closed.

“Good morning,” said Max. He looked as usual, shorts and a t-shirt, a bit of gel in his hair, and clean-shaven.

“Hello,” Y/N said, clearing her throat. She stood still at the door until Max motioned for her to come in.

“Come in, please,” he said calmly. She nodded and entered, looking for traces of that woman, though the apartment still smelled of her perfume.

“Is she not here?” she asked, turning on her heels to look at him.

“No. That's what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You want to talk to me about your girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

She let out a laugh, the same thing she had told her friends at a dinner while he had a hand almost reaching her inner thigh.

“You never have girlfriends, do you?”

“Y/N, it’s not what you think.”

She crossed her arms. “You know what I think? I think you’re a hypocrite. A damn hypocrite who, because I didn’t suit him, found someone easier.”

Max approached Y/N. “It’s PR, they forced me.”

“They forced you?” she let out a painful laugh. “Did they force you before or after ending things with us?”

Max stayed silent. They had pressured him, but the final decision had been his. He couldn’t find a way to explain himself. That silence meant everything to Y/N.

“You're pathetic. Totally pathetic.”

“Y/N, I’m sor-” he took half a step towards her but backed off immediately.

“Bullshit,” Y/N exploded. “Do you think apologizing is enough? You treated me like a fucking toy, damn it.”

“I didn't… I never wanted to hurt you,” Max choked on his words.

“But neither did you want to treat me well.”

Max stayed silent, feeling like the stupidest man on earth. He wanted to shout that she was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time while kissing her until he ran out of breath. But he said nothing. Y/N looked away with a long sigh.

“I’m going to collect my clothes,” she said, clearly disappointed in her voice. She hoped that Max would follow her, not let her pack her things and beg her to stay. That he’d tell her she was worthy of love.

Max waited, sitting on his couch, running his hands over his face, searching for the words.

Y/N came out of the room and walked past the living room, intending to leave without saying goodbye.

“I'll break up with Kelly,” Max stood up, stopping her with his words.

“Do you think that will help? You’ll still hide me as if you’re ashamed.”

“Y/N…” He couldn’t find the words.

“No. I'm leaving. I'm tired. Of you and all your crap.”