#I’d thank the opposing team

[doremimosasol]

SWEATY AFTER A QUIDDITCH GAME, FRUSTRATED AND STORMING INTO YOUR DORM ROOM

YES? YES

[lucijawriteswords]

locker room | luke hughes

summary: you find an angry luke in the locker room after a loss and figure out exactly how to help him.

warnings: 18+!!!! SMUT. oral (m receiving), swearing, slightly angry luke, whimpering, begging if you look hard enough. a little fluff. poor rutger gets caught in the crossfire. pretty tame (just wait for my next one. it’s on its way.) not edited, i’m impatient

word count: 2.5k

A/N: hello! welcome to my new venture. i’ve not written anything like this before so please, give me some grace- and feedback, if you’d like. tell me how you feel, who you want me to write about, what you want me to write about. with that, let’s get into it, shall we?

18+ below the cut

you heard laughs echoing from the press stand where the opposing team was giving post game interviews. you scoffed as you strode by, muttering to yourself. absolute ref show.

the path to the locker room was second nature to you, ingrained in your head, as familiar as your own bed. you’d been there enough times. familiar faces passed you as players quickly headed out, a few gracing you with a look, even fewer with a smile. you smiled back at those who did. one caught your arm, a freshman who’s name you hadn’t learned yet, right as you were about to turn the final corner, and gave you a warning glance. “he’s really upset, y/n. really upset. just thought i’d warn you. i’m not sure if he’s sad upset or mad upset but regardless i figured i’d let you know.”

you knew this. you knew it the second the buzzer screeched at the end of the third and luke stormed off the bench, shaking his head. you knew when you heard a loud snap and then the angry voice of an equipment manager, scolding luke about breaking a stick.

you knew luke.

“thanks, kid.” he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. you reached up to gently pat his shoulder; friendly, comforting. “hey, don’t do that. you played amazing. the refs were horrid.”

he nodded, releasing your arm and bringing his hand up to wipe under his nose, followed by a loud sniffle. at the same time, you heard a scoff echo from around the corner and turned your head to find a brown, curly head and a bare shoulder disappearing back through the locker room door.

the freshman- who’s name you still couldn’t remember- looked at you, panicked. you just huffed out a sigh and drew your hand away from his shoulder. “oh, goodie.”

“i- y/n, he’s gonna think- shit,” he breathed out, letting his head drop backwards.

“hey, whatever he thinks doesn’t mean shit because it’s not true. he’s upset anyways and now he’s gonna spiral cause he thinks i’m messing with his freshman teammate. so, good game, honestly, but i’m gonna go figure out that situation before it’s too late.” you rushed out, pointing towards where luke’s head had disappeared to.

the freshman- you really had to learn his name- nodded and muttered a tiny ‘bye’ before making his way down the rest of the hall. you offered a quick wave as you stepped around the corner and pushed the door to the locker room open.

upon your immediate surveillance, there was no luke. but, you heard water streaming against tile, and the showers don’t shut off or turn on automatically, so that means that someone turned it on and was still in there. you did a quick second scan of the stalls, and upon seeing that everyone’s jerseys were hung up, bags folded, and there were no shoes resting underneath a stall- except luke’s- decided that it must be, could only be, luke in the shower.

“luke?” you called, making your way across the maize and blue carpeting.

“in here,” he answered, voice clipped. impatient. upset.

“can i come in?”

“yeah, i don’t care. ‘less you have rut with you, in which case, stay out there.”

“rut?” who the hell names their child rut?

“rutger, honey. my replacement, apparently.”

you surmised that rutger must be the freshman, and decided that yes, rutger was a name you’d have a hard time remembering.

“baby, he’s not your replacement. we were just talking.” the water shut off as you were talking and you heard bare feet slapping against the wet tile, followed by a low ‘fuck.’

“why are you swearing, lu?” you wondered, taking another stop towards the showers.

“forgot my towel. would you grab it for me? it’s hanging in my stall.”

you chuckled, walking back towards his stall and grabbing the towel. it was rough, pilled. threadbare on one end. “ew. gotta get you a new towel, babe.” you giggled, sticking your finger through a hole in the corner and turning, wiggling it at him.

“can you just bring it over here you weirdo?” he grumbled, but a small smile graced his lips as he poked his head around the wall.

“can i explain?”

“honey, i’m soaking wet. can it wait?” still upset, then.

“no.”

“go, then.” he bit out, exasperated, angrily gesturing at you to explain. you made a face at him before speaking.

“he was just warning me that you were upset, lu. i was thanking him and he looked sad so i told him he played well and that it was a ref show, ‘kay? just talking.” you finished, tossing the towel to him. his head disappeared behind the wall briefly before he made his way fully out, towel wrapped around his hips.

“alright. just don’t want him getting any ideas.”

“wait, lu, doesn’t he have a girlfriend? i swear, one of the freshmen this year has a girlfriend.” you thought out loud, following him towards his stall before plopping yourself onto the ground, electing to sit rather than stand as he got dry and dressed.

“oh. yeah.”

you laughed without humor, watching his back flex as he undid and redid the towel around his waist.

“glad i got you that shitty towel. didn’t feel like getting dripped all over, if i’m being honest.” you said, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin on them.

luke froze, turning his head with a devilish smile on his lips. your playful expression dropped as he turned all the way around, water slowly trailing down the planes of his chest. you gulped.

“lu, don’t even think about it- LUKE!” you started, trying to get up, but it was to no avail, because in a split second he was standing over you, shaking his head like a dog, sending water all over you- and the rest of the locker room, for that matter. “you little shit!” you screeched, holding your hands up to your face, the water splattering unceremoniously on you.

you heard his hoarse laugh as he finished tormenting you, turning back to his stall and pulling a sweatshirt over his body. you heard the rustling of fabric as he reached into his bag and pulled out a pair of sweatpants. your hands still covered your face, trying to be prepared if your child of a boyfriend got a second wind, but by the wet thump of the towel against the ground, you assumed he’d pulled the sweatpants on.

“i’m not gonna splash you again, baby. you can move your hands.” luke said, his voice calmer than it was a few minutes ago.

“why aren’t you putting your suit back on?” you asked, taking in his outfit.

“not going out the front, so nobody’s gonna see. just gonna go out the back, s’where i parked anyways.” he spoke towards the ground, pulling on socks and slipping his feet into a worn pair of birkenstocks.

“nobody’s even here anymore,” you added absentmindedly, looking down at your apple watch. 11:37. “it’s late.”

“yeah, honey, i know. you got a date with rutger at 11:45 or something?” he mumbled, the sass making its way back into his voice at in response to your apparently stupid statement.

“oh well, pardon me, mr. perfect. wasn’t sure if you were too busy being mad at me for talking to someone to look at your watch. oh, boy, am i excited to walk to the car, freezing and wet with your mopey ass.” you cut out, voice raising at the end, having had enough of him. “i get that you’re upset about losing but come on, luke. he’s got a girlfriend, he’s younger than me, and i would never do that to you.”

“oh, so you admit that i was right for thinking that? you’re defending yourself pretty heavily, y/n, i dunno. you sure he’s not waiting for you?” he whipped around. there was no more playfulness.

“you’re kidding, right?” you returned, voice emotionless.

he simply shrugged, nostrils flared slightly, anger written all over him. tense shoulders, arms crossed. wide stance.

“god, luke, you’re such a child sometimes.”

“oh, i’m a child for being protective over my girlfriend, but it’s fine for you to get all up on him and touch his arm? fucking double standard if you ask me.” he was harsh, accusatory.

your mouth dropped, incredulous at his words, but more so his tone. “don’t you fucking DARE talk to me like that. once you’re thinking straight and decide to not be an asshole, text me. i’m gonna go to my dorm tonight.”

you shook your head, pulling your phone out of your pocket and clicking into snapchat, swiping into your roommate’s chat, starting to type a message to her to ask her to pick you up, but you felt a hand close around your arm, spinning you back. you were ready to fire off more words but said words were nipped in the bud as you felt luke’s mouth on yours, hot and heavy. any anger you had took a backseat as you felt his tongue on yours, his hands finding their place on your hips, pulling you into him.

he kissed you desperately, hard enough to almost hurt. you moaned when he bit lightly on your lip, sticking the tip of your tongue out to flick his upper lip. a type of retribution. something between a moan and a growl clawed it’s way from his throat, angry and ready to be released.

you pulled away, shoving him firmly backwards by the chest. his eyes were apologetic and he looked like her was about to say something but you quieted him by pushing him down into the bench in front of his stall. “talk later,” you muttered, kneeling in front of him.

“baby, i was mean to you, you don’t have to-” he cut himself off as you undid his sweatpants and pulled him out, felt him heavy in your hand. you pulled slow, languid strokes over his cock, relished the way his head tipped back, the way his adams apple bobbed, the way he whimpered when your thumb ghosted over his angry tip. you grinned at the noise, deciding to tease him even more. his breath caught in his throat, a wet, choked, noise, as you dragged your tongue across his slit, letting your saliva mix with the precum that was gushing out of him. he looked down at you then, bringing a hand to the back of your head to gather your hair. “don’t tease me, baby. can’t take it.”

“gotta ask nice, pretty boy.”

“please, y/n. i need your mouth, i need to feel you on my cock, please.”

a wicked grin carved itself onto your face as you spat into your hand and gave him three long, hard strokes from the base. “all you had to do was ask, lu.” you purred, taking him into your mouth, moaning around him at the taste, the weight, the relief of feeling him in your mouth, on you tongue.

you heard his head thump against the wood of the stall, his breathing ragged as your moan vibrated around him. you felt him twitch in your mouth as you pressed your tongue flat against the underside of his dick and swallowed around him, curses falling from his lips.

“god, y/n, not gonna last. take me so good, baby,” he cut out, voice strained as he bucked into your mouth, hips and words stuttering in some sort of fucked up prayer to your mouth.

you smiled as much as you could with a mouth full of dick, moaning around him to try to get him there faster. his fist tightened in your hair and a whine escaped your lips, buzzing on his cock.

you looked up at him through your lashes, saw the flush on his neck making his way up to his cheeks, pride in the fact that you made him like that, that you could have him like this. that you could reduce him to a moaning, whimpering mess with only your mouth. you moaned at the mere thought, feeling him swell in your mouth.

you tapped his thigh twice, knowing he was getting close. his eyes met yours, hazy and hooded and drowning in lust, in you. you nodded, wanting, needing to see him when he finished.

his chest heaved, eyes trained on you as you worked him, bobbing up and down his cock, spit coating him at the base.

“fuck, y/n, look so pretty like this. so pretty, baby.” he whimpered, impossibly close. you moaned around him, long and loud, wanting to taste him. “so close, baby, so close.”

you took a deep breath, steadying yourself, before pushing your head down further, feeling his head hit the back of your throat, your nose pressing into the soft skin of his pelvis, feeling him tense under you. a long, drawn out call of your name left his lips as you swallowed around him, trying not to choke.

“fuck, gonna cum,” he whispered, lightly pushing his hips into your mouth, thighs shaking as he finally let go, warmth filling your mouth, his cock jumping wildly. you moaned, tasting him, feeling his hot cum coat your tongue and throat, swallowing it down as much as you could with his dick still in your mouth. he hissed, pulling your head off, overstimulated. you swallowed again, not wanting to miss a drop, settling back onto your knees, looking at him trying to collect himself.

“you still mad?” you quipped, cocking your head. he rolled his eyes at you, still trying to catch his breath as he tucked himself back into his pants. “gonna take that as a no,” you answered yourself, pushing yourself up, brushing your hands over your knees, feeling the imprint of the carpet and your jeans on the skin.

he stood up, gathering you into his arms and pulling your head into his chest. you nestled your head there, arms draping lazily around his waist, leaning all your weight onto him, the lateness of this rendezvous catching up with you. you smiled into the softness of his hoodie. “i’m sorry, babe. just get jealous, you know how i am.”

“i know, lukey. it’s okay. but you know i would never do that to you, to us, so i got defensive.”

he pressed a quick kiss into your hair, muttering an ‘i know,’ tapping your butt lightly so you would jump. you did so, weakly wrapping your legs around his waist, clinging to him lightly, knowing he had you. you rested your head on his shoulder, pressing a light kiss to the column of his throat. “can we go home? i’m tired.”

he smiled, readjusting you so he could grab his keys from the hook in his stall. “‘course we can, baby.” he kissed the side of your face, and you felt the smile still gracing his lips.

[gay-dorito-dust]

okay so if jace and aemond are both in love with reader how do you think they would react if reader was on the other side of the war and they had to fight them on dragon back???

Jace felt his heart break upon realising that he has to fight you. He doesn’t wish to be the reason you are brought to harm that he had once promised to keep you away from, he doesn’t think his heart would be able to handle it, but the realm was being plunged into war and you were unfortunately on the opposite side thanks to your father for pledging your house for Aegon.

Jace had tried to offer you his hand in marriage but your father wasn’t having it, proclaiming that you were already betrothed to someone else. Your father was aware of Jace’s feelings for you but wasn’t about to let his child marry the bastard son of Rhaenyra.

So without any options for him to take to secure your safety, Jace had come to terms with the reality that he had to kill you in order to help his mother sit the throne she was promised, would this war away at him for the rest of his days? Absolutely. You were his heart, his light, his breath of fresh air but now you were the thorn in his side that he couldn’t remove for he didn’t want to forget the delicious pain you brought him by making him love you.

He didn’t want to do this but his family had lost too much to the greens, so seeing you take their side without so much of a fight has to be the greatest betrayal he’s ever experienced, his heart hurt with the notion that he hasn’t once crossed your mind when you had been nothing but all consuming in his. Jace could only hope that the next life would be more merciful for the both of you as you both lunged for the other.

Aemond valued duty above all else for he didn’t have anything else, he was a kinslayer, the worst thing that you could possibly hope to be in Westeros. He had doomed himself from the start by claiming Vhagar that night on driftmark but he didn’t care because for the first time he felt like someone and felt useful for his family.

I wish I could say that he’d wouldn’t dare engage with you in combat but I’d be lying, if anyone before him opposes his family, then they are as good as dead regardless of how he felt in the past. However apart of him was certain you have come to hate him with a rage as blistering as dragonfire for what he had done to Lucaerys at Storm’s End.

He had ruined any and all hopes of your future together for good that day and drove you into siding with his half sister, the true heir to the throne, as you screamed with your whole chest upon Cannibal. Your mind has been made up as had his along time ago, his family needed him to win the war, he was there biggest asset and you were team black’s greatest asset they had at their disposal; your clash was an inevitable one.

Aemond know his heart might always belong to you but you were never his to claim, it wasn’t fate as you were promised to the likes of Benjicot Blackwood. Aemond had caught you both exchanging pleasantries beforehand once but didn’t think much of it until war finally broke across the realm, only then did it started to make sense. You were never his when your heart belonged to another and he wasn’t fully yours either when his heart was set on brining victory to his family over the love that could’ve been.

[katemoneymartinsgf]

Caitlin Clark x Swimmer Reader

A/N : This has been unfinished in my drafts for a week. I’m just projecting atp.

…..



You stood quietly, watching as everyone gathered behind the blocks for the men’s 500m race. Your eyes followed the swimmers as they lined up, but your mind was elsewhere.

“How many until the 200 fly?” you asked your friend Cami, who stood beside you, slightly tapping her foot.

“This race, then a 15-minute break. The boys have their 200, and then you’re up,” she replied.

You nodded, nerves tingling in your stomach. Walking to the warm-up pool, you noticed a familiar figure getting ready in the lane next to you.

Abby Reed.

You and Abby had swum together your entire life—well, technically, against each other. Every club team, every meet growing up, she was always on the opposing side. Abby was an incredible swimmer, you couldn’t deny it, and for some reason, you were always second to her. No matter how hard you tried, she was a step ahead, and she never let you forget it. She had this hold over you, but no one ever truly looked into it. No one knew the self-doubt that gnawed at you every time you faced her.

Your fingers absentmindedly traced the block in front of you as you fought the wave of doubt. You needed to place at least 5th in prelims to secure a spot in finals. Fifth place—that’s all you needed. But all you could think about was her. Abby. In the lane right next to you.

A gentle hand rested on your shoulder, pulling you from your thoughts. You turned to see Cami, her expression encouraging.

“You’ve got this, dude. They don’t stand a chance,” she said with a grin.

They did. They all stood a chance, especially Abby. You knew Cami was just trying to be supportive, but you were thinking practically.

“Yeah, I’ll be back,” you mumbled, needing some space. You walked away toward the empty locker room. You didn’t mean to be rude, but you hated anyone talking to you before a race—especially now.

“Hey,” came a soft voice from behind you.

Anybody but her.

“Hi, Cait,” you sighed, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease just a little.

“Is this a bad time for me to say you’re gonna do great?” she asked, reading you perfectly, as she always did.

You let out a breath, the weight of the day pressing down. “Abby Reed is in the lane next to me. The gap between her and the person ahead of her is three seconds, and I’ve never beaten her. I don’t stand a chance. This isn’t even my main event. I can’t get started fast enough, and this is my last–”

“Okay, okay, slow down. Breathe,” she interrupted, taking your hand and pulling you to sit on the bench.

She knelt in front of you, her eyes meeting yours. “None of that matters. You can have the best swim of your life today, but you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. Don’t think about Abby. Don’t think about anyone but you. You’re so incredibly fast, but you’re stuck up here,” she tapped your forehead gently, “instead of just swimming.”

You exhaled deeply, leaning your forehead against hers. Caitlin had been your rock through everything. She had this way of making you feel like it was okay to let your walls down, even if just for a moment. You hated being vulnerable, but with her, it felt... safe.

“Thank you, Cait. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Honestly, the number of times I’ve kept you from crashing out should be rewarded,” she teased with a smile.

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, feeling her melt into you instantly.

“Best reward,” she murmured as you pulled away.

“I love you.”

“I love you more. Now, go warm up. You’ve got 15 minutes before your race,” she reminded you, giving you a reassuring nudge.

You grabbed your goggles and stood up, but before you could walk away, she caught you by the waist and pulled you back for another kiss. This one was a little rougher, but the way she held you made it so sweet.

“Okay, now you can lock in,” she smirked, letting you go.

…

The whistle blew, signaling the end of the break. The men’s 200m fly was up first. You stood off to the side, watching the water ripple as the swimmers took their marks.

Fifth place—that’s all you needed. Just 5th. But as you stood there, every part of you screamed that it wouldn’t be enough if you didn’t beat Abby.

A familiar pair of hands settled on your shoulders, and you tensed for a moment before relaxing, realizing it was Caitlin.

“Remember what I said. Don’t personify the competition. Head down for as long as you can,” she whispered.

You nodded slightly, eyes still locked on the block in front of you.

“One more 50 for the boys. Y/N, get to your lane,” Cami’s voice broke your trance.

You turned back to Caitlin, locking eyes. Her steady gaze gave you all the reassurance you needed. She believed in you.

You walked toward your block, hand brushing hers until you were forced to let go.

“Swimmers, you may exit the pool,” the referee called, signaling the end of the men’s race.

You stepped up onto your block, glancing to your left. Abby was there.

“Good luck, Y/L/N,” she said, but you didn’t acknowledge her. Don’t personify the competition.

“Swimmers, take your mark.”

Beep.

The starting buzzer sounded, and you launched from the block, your body moving on instinct. You focused on the water in front of you, refusing to let yourself check the lanes around you. You didn’t think. You just swam.

The race was over before you even realized it. You hit the wall and looked up at the board.

1:57.48. Sixth place.

In any other circumstance, you would’ve been proud of yourself. But there it was—Abby Reed, 1:55.32, second place. Four places ahead of you.

A pang of disappointment shot through your chest. She’d beaten you. Again.

“Swimmers, please exit the water,” the announcer called.

You pulled yourself out and immediately walked toward the warm-down pool, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s okay. It happens...” Cami started, but Caitlin cut her off.

“Let her cool down. She’ll be okay.”

You were so grateful for her at that moment.

…

After warming down, you retreated to the locker room, seeking a quiet corner where you could be alone. The race kept replaying in your head. This was supposed to be your moment, your chance to prove you belonged here. And it was gone.

You heard soft footsteps approaching, followed by Caitlin’s voice.

“Red, yellow, or green zone?” she asked, her tone gentle.

It was your code. Red meant leave you alone. Yellow meant you were upset but could be talked down. Green meant you were okay enough to joke.

“Red... but I need you,” you whispered.

Without hesitation, she pulled you into her arms as you let the tears fall.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” she murmured, pressing soft kisses to your head.

“I suck,” you mumbled into her chest.

She pulled back slightly, cupping your face with her hands. “No, we’re not doing that. You are a talented swimmer. So what if you didn’t beat her today? That doesn’t make you any less amazing.”

“But if I can’t beat Abby Reed, how can I ever be considered good?” you questioned, voice cracking.

“Because…” Caitlin paused, gathering her thoughts. “Because you’re more than a race. You’re more than Abby Reed. You’ve been so focused on her that you’ve lost sight of what makes you great. You’ve got the talent, but you’re too caught up in her to see it.”

You exhaled shakily,still hiccuping over your tears.

“breathe my love” she instructed

You finally released a full breath her words slowly sinking in. She wiped the tears from your cheeks, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Thank you,” you began, but she cut you off with a kiss.

“No need to thank me. Just remember, I think you’re incredible. But I’m not gay or anything, so don’t get any ideas,” she teased, making you giggle as she kissed you again.

You rested your head on her chest, taking a deep breath as her warmth surrounded you.

“Not to bring it up again, but if I had one more chance, I’d dust her,” you muttered.

“Keep that energy because… you’re in the finals,” Caitlin said calmly.

“What? How?” you asked, jumping away from her in disbelief.

“Third place DQ’d. You bumped up to eighth for the finals,” she explained, smirking.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Because I needed you to process everything first. You were too caught up in it. Now, you can go into the race with a clear head.”

“Caitlin Clark, you’re something else,” you said, kissing her passionately.

You pulled away, doing a little happy dance. “I’m gonna smoke her.”

Caitlin grinned. “That’s better.”

She leaned in close. “Now, go eat, stay off your feet, and get ready. I’ll be back after picking up some packages and dropping something off with Kate.”

“You got my pickles, right?”

“They’re in Cami’s cooler, with a lemon lime gatorade.”

Your heart warmed. To be loved is to be known, and Caitlin truly knew you.

You pulled her in for another kiss, then peppered her face with quick, playful ones right after.

“Remember when you said you weren’t gay…?”

“Shut up,” she says, pushing you away with a laugh, walking off with a teasing smile.

“I love youuu!” you call out after her.

“I love you… STAY OFF YOUR FEET!” she yells as she gets farther away.

...

! Cut to the race because I said so !

You hear your coach's voice as you walk behind the blocks. “You got this, Y/N. Head down, don’t breathe, don’t think—just swim.”

You nod, scanning the crowd with a sudden surge of fear. You need her here.

Finally, your eyes find Caitlin, standing with Kate and the rest of the Iowa basketball team. Your gaze locks with hers, and she nods, arms crossed around her chest as always. She’s just as locked in as you are.

You walk to your place behind the block. The announcers call out each swimmer’s name, but you try hard not to listen when her name is announced.

“Hey, Y/L/N… don’t embarrass your girlfriend. That would be a shame,” Abby calls out from two blocks away.

Your body freezes for a moment. Abby knew exactly how to push your buttons, especially the ones that made you feel like you weren't good enough for Caitlin. It's been a while since those thoughts crept in, but leave it to Abby to bring them back. What a bitch.

You glance back at the crowd, locking eyes with Caitlin once more. She sees the nervous look on your face but returns it with a stare that says, deal with it later. It’s crazy how the two of you could communicate without speaking. You nod again, pushing all other distractions aside.

“Swimmers, step up.”

You take your place on the block, just like you’ve done a million times before.

“Come on, Y/N. Outside smoke… you got this,” you whisper to yourself.

“Swimmers, take your mark.”

BZZZ

Before you know it, the race has begun. And in what feels like a blink, it’s almost over.

As you approach the final 10 meters, you put your head down and give it everything you have. Every ounce of strength left in your body goes into the last push. You hit the wall and immediately look to see if anyone has finished ahead of you.

Two swimmers… and one of them is Abby Reed.

The crowd erupts.

For a split second, your heart sinks, until you catch the same look of heartbreak on Abby’s face. You turn toward the monitor.

Y/L/N - 1st place. 1:54.27. Meet Record.

“No way…” you whisper to yourself. You glance up to see the entire Iowa swim team behind the blocks, cheering like crazy.

“And that is a new meet record, folks! Outside smoke never fails! The medal is yours, kid!” the announcer shouts over the mic.

You pull yourself out of the water, immediately engulfed by your teammates’ hugs. But there’s only one person on your mind.

Breaking free from the crowd, you head toward the stands. Caitlin is already making her way down to you.

You leap into her arms as she spins you around.

“I’m so fucking proud of you! Look at you—MY 200 FLY GOAT!”

“I love you so much. Thank you for always believing in me.”

She pulls you in for a deep kiss. “I love you even more,” she says between kisses.

This is the most public you’ve ever been with her. Cameras flash all around, and you know this will be all over social media by tomorrow.

But right now, nothing can take away from the high you’re on.

As the adrenaline from the race begins to fade, the weight of everything that led you here settles in. All the early mornings, the grueling practices, the moments of doubt—all worth it for this moment. But more than the medal or the meet record, what makes this feel so monumental is having Caitlin by your side. It wasn’t just about winning; it was about knowing that, no matter the outcome, she would be there, arms open, heart full. And now, in front of the world, there’s no more hiding, no more fear. You’ve always been enough for her—just as you are.

You pull back slightly, resting your forehead against hers, the noise of the crowd fading into the background. Caitlin smiles, that familiar sparkle in her eyes, and you feel your heart swell. This is where you’re meant to be—both in the pool and in her arms. As you stand together, the cameras flashing, the team cheering behind you, one thing is clear: the journey, the victories, the challenges—all of it means more with her by your side. And in this moment, everything feels exactly as it should.

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

stand and fight

── jacaerys velaryon x fem!targaryen reader

surprise i can’t contain myself so this is a series shdbxndjfvnsj

little a/n before we begin ── CHANGING AGES!! jace is only 13 when aegon is crowned king but in this, you and he are both 18. as with my aegon piece, i know everyone’s long names and titles but for the sake of not typing it out each time i use first names (i.e. criston instead of ser criston cole). reader is alicent and viserys’ child, but is living with rhaenyra and her family because she was always of the opinion that her father wanted rhaenyra to be queen. even once aegon was crowned, she refused to refer to him as king. as a result this caused a huge feud with reader against alicent, aegon, and aemond and she was all but banished from her home. about 2 weeks after aegon is crowned, reader and dragon (stormfyre) ran away and have been with rhaenyra and fam ever since. of everyone on team black, you’re closest with jace. everyone suspects something romantic between you both, but nothing has happened as of the start of this. takes place before, and during season 2 episode 4. you’ve been warned

wc: 1.6k (future chapters will be much longer and feature a lot more of jace, promise!)

PART ONE

Your relationship with Jacaerys (not that you could really call it a relationship), wasn’t always how it is now. He wasn’t the one you sought out when you wanted quiet but not alone time, and you weren’t the first person he searched for when he entered the room. Certainly not when you first arrived and Rhaenyra announced that you’d be staying with them.

In fact, in the beginning, you were sure he hated you.

Being on opposing sides of this ‘war’, part of the reason why he took such a strong disliking to you was because he thought he had to. You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite. You’d long since grown tired of hating people simply because you were told to.

On the evening you and Stormfyre ran away, the entire time you were flying was spent worrying and just praying to the Gods that you wouldn’t be turned away, or killed.

Rhaenyra was there to greet you when Stormfyre finally landed, and once you told her how bad things had gotten at home and that you didn’t know where else to go, she immediately offered you a room. Though you were Alicent’s daughter, you were still her half sister and had always been kind to her and her children. She knew you wanted no part in this feud, that you and Helaena were innocent in all of it.

After you wrote a note and Rhaenyra sent a raven to deliver it to Alicent, she informed you that they were just about to sit down and have dinner and she’d love for you to join them.

The first thing you noticed as you took your seat across from Lucerys, was how Jacaerys was glaring at you.

No one had taken more than a few bites before he put his fork down and loudly stood up.

“Why is she here?” He pointed at you, not even bothering to hide his anger.

“Jacaerys sit down,” Rhaenyra shook her head. “You know as well as I do that she is innocent in all of this. I have invited her—”

“To stay with us? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, she’s one of them! How do you know—”

Hearing that last part, Rhaenyra pushed her chair back and stood up. “Do not speak to me in that way, I will not tolerate it. I have invited her to stay for as long as she’d like and that is final. Now sit down.”

“Yes Your Grace.” The sarcasm was loud and clear, but Rhaenyra opted to ignore it since he did in fact sit down again.

You had your worries, but this confirmed it. You couldn’t stay. On the way over you told yourself that if anyone showed hesitation or anger at you being there, you’d leave as soon as you felt safe to do so. To live in a place where you were in fear of saying the wrong thing or suddenly being asked to leave, was no different than if you’d remained at home.

“Your Grace, I am a bit tired. Thank you for the lovely meal but if it’s alright I’d like to retire for the evening.”

Jacaerys once again didn’t even attempt to hide his anger. He rolled his eyes as he continued to eat.

“Of course, please don’t hesitate to ask if there’s anything you need.” She gave you a small smile, and as soon as you turned the corner you could hear her beginning to bicker with her eldest son.

After you’d been in your room about an hour, there was a series of soft knocks at your door. If you’d been doing anything other than laying in bed, you probably wouldn’t have heard.

When you opened the door and were greeted by Lucerys, to say you were surprised was an understatement.

“My Prince, I —”

He gave you that look, the I’m a kid please don’t use my title it’s weird look, and when you tried again and called him by his first name, he smiled. His hands had previously been behind his back and when he brought them forward, in each was a small plate with what appeared to be some sort of cake.

“Jace was rude and I know that’s why you didn’t finish dinner,” he said simply.

You opened your mouth to say that wasn’t true, but when he gave you that look again you couldn’t help but laugh.

“For being so young, you’re quite perceptive.”

He nodded as he sat down and handed you a plate. “Mom says I’m good at reading people. I forgot forks so we’ll have to use our hands.”

“You wish to stay and eat with me?”

Again, the young boy nodded. “It’s not fun to eat alone.”

The first few minutes, the 2 of you simply enjoyed the desserts in silence. You were relieved to find that it was a comfortable silence. When you were both finished, Lucerys, who insisted you call him Luke, took the plates and said he’d be right back. When he returned only a moment later, his first question surprised you.

“Why did you run away?”

“I — it’s complicated. Since Aegon was crowned king, there have been a lot of… fights.”

“You don’t think he should be king?”

You wondered how much to tell him, seeing as he was only 11. “No,” you decided to just tell the truth. “I think your mom should be.”

“She’s your… half sister, right?”

You nodded. “Yes, she’s my half sister. The same way that Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond are her other half siblings.”

“Do you not like them?”

“My other siblings?”

He nodded.

“I’m using this word too much, but it’s complicated. My relationship with each of them is different. Or was, before things went bad. Aegon and I used to be inseparable when we were really little. Everyone used to joke that we were twins. Though I’m a year older than Aemond, I always looked up to him. He’s the one who taught me how to use a sword, and I will always be grateful for that. Helaena and I are still close, she understands why I left. In fact that reminds me I need to ask your mom if I may send a raven to her tomorrow.”

“Even if you don’t think he should be king, why did you leave? Did they hurt you?”

“No, not yet anyway,” you gave a sad smile. “But it wasn’t just them that made me fearful. Other people haven’t been so kind. It’s why I’m so grateful that I’m allowed to be here, even if it’s only temporary.”

Luke looked surprised, as if it hadn’t occurred to him that you’d leave. “But you’ll stay with us for a while right? I’ll talk to Jace, I swear it.”

You quickly wiped a tear and smiled at the young boy in front of you. “That means a lot to me, truly. But please don’t talk to your brother on my behalf. He has made it clear I’m unwelcome and I fear that anything you say will make him angry with you as well.”

“If you don’t stay, will you have to return home?”

That was something you hadn’t even thought about. Initially while flying you feared being rejected. But even if that did happen, what would your plan have been?

“Possibly. I do not know where else I would go.”

“Jacer— there you are, you’ve had us searching everywhere,” Rhaenyra smiling as she saw how comfortable her son was around you. “Why don’t you let her get some sleep, hmm? You can see her in the morning.”

He groaned, but Luke did give you a hug and a “goodnight” before heading out of your room.

Rhaenyra turned to follow her son, then turned back around to face you again as she thought of something she wanted to say.

“I’d just like to apologize for my older son. I do not know what has gotten into him as of late but he had no right to speak to or about you that way. I will see to it that he—”

“Please, Your Grace—” she gives you that same look that Luke did, and you smile at how similar they look. “Rhaenyra, you and he have nothing to apologize for. I am technically one of them, and I’m intruding on your home.”

She is quick to shake her head. “You’re not intruding. I know what it can be like over there, and for your wellbeing I am glad that you felt safe enough to come here. We will think of next steps for tomorrow, although I really do hope you’ll stay a while. It seems Luke does too. I’ll let you get some rest now.”

“Thank you, I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you,” you get off of the bed and embrace your sister for the first time in who knows how long. She rubs circles on your back and it brings tears to your eyes, your own mom wouldn’t ever embrace you like this.

Rhaenyra leaves a few minutes later, and you finally crawl into bed.

As you lay there and wait for sleep to come, you think about the events of today. And you can’t help it, eventually your mind drifts to the boy who sat across from you.

With the dirty looks he gave you, how he spoke about you as if you weren’t there, there’s no doubt in your mind that he hates you.

It’s hard to believe that if Aegon weren’t crowned King, and Rhaenyra held her place on the iron throne, that Jacaerys would’ve been the next heir.

Even harder to believe is that to ensure both families remained united, you and he would’ve already gotten married.

You finally start to feel sleepy, and just before you drift off, your final thoughts are of Jacerys. If you do end up staying, you wonder if things will always be like this.

TAGLIST ──

@simpingbigtime | @chillingyuh | @themoon-mine | @greenvita | @frostooo | @darylspersonalwhore | @athxnss | @thatbird-fromrio | @yohanseyebrowmole | @koobratzy | @ganertys | @kodzuvk | @lovelyteenagebeard | @m1lilachp | @lotus-888

[silent-sanctum]

hiii mijin! hope you are doing well 💕 can i req a beach day with jotaro and the crusaders, y/n getting hit on, joot getting jealous, pol and kak clowning him, those shoujo anime cliche we all know and love 😂 thanks !

Hello anon! Your beach day request has been heard! Initially, I had this planned to only be at most 600+ words, but then I went ahead and found the plot to be... a lot more 😬 Also this takes place in an au where everyone survives post-DIO's World. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! ♡

Volleyball - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 2.2k

It’s been 3 months since DIO’s defeat and no one else deserves a break more than the Crusaders.

Everyone had time to recover from their injuries and although some had worse wounds than others, they still managed to make it out of the otherwise deadly voyage alive.

It was Joseph’s idea for the team to meet-up once more in a popular beach near New York-to hang out as friends for once rather than just allies or colleagues. He promised that any expenses in relation to this one-time hangout would be covered using the “good old Joestar funds” as the old man put it.

And since the new school year wouldn’t start until a month after, and that being around familiar faces was a nice experience, Jotaro wasn’t opposed into joining, more so after knowing you were going too.

Speaking off, a part of him held onto this ounce of pride when you and Jotaro decided to be something more than being “just close friends” and who would’ve guessed that this decision would be made in the middle of a mission to save his mother.

Now, not only is Holly alive and well but he also gained a new lover for her to dote on and gush with.

And whether it was conscious or not, you both stuck around for each other, often finding ways to meet one way or another. It felt nice to have you here with him no matter the place.

So having to hop on board a plane yet again and fly off to the States for a day or two wouldn’t be too excruciating when he knew you’d be there to make the sudden meeting a bit more tolerable.

Day after arrival, here he was- sitting underneath a beach umbrella in his dark shorts, drinking juice while watching his grandfather and Polnareff compete at a game of volleyball. You were there beside him in the shade, dressed in a loose blouse and shorts, applying sun screen as you attempted to convince him to play a game with the crew.

I’d rather be at home. Despite your many tries, Jotaro stayed stubborn and said he’d be fine watching you play with the guys. You didn’t push the offer again and after a sip of your citrus drink and a quick peck on his cheek, off you went to lead a waiting Kakyoin to the playing field.

And for the next few hours, it mostly stayed like this- Jotaro and Avdol resting underneath the shade, him watching the volleyball match with his Walkman in hand listening to music, the Egyptian reading a worn-out book that’s most probably from his archives, and the rest of the group out in the sun playing their 3rd round.

Throughout his time there, Jotaro kept his eye on the game and on you specifically, mirroring your excited smile and laughter with his more subtle lip curl and huffs. In an addition to having himself be yours, the relationship helped him negate all the passing girls who took interest in him and tried to approach him.

Not that he had a hard time ignoring them to begin with it.

What Jotaro hadn’t considered was the onlooking men taking interest of you, and the thought struck him square in head when as a volleyball match ended, one of the nearby boys- an American with a blonde mop of hair and tan skin- walked over to you all smiling and shit.

Normally, you conversing with someone with the opposing sex wouldn’t bother him this much, but the second he watched the guy offering you an ice cream cone bought from the nearby vendor, he could hear himself scoff and scowl. “Why’d you accept that?” He muttered, continuing to glare at the man consistently keeping up a lively conversation with you. “What are they even talking about this long?”

“Such an irritating sight that is, right?” Jotaro glanced at Polnareff coming over to be annoying and take part in this dilemma. Behind him, Kakyoin followed. Both of them crouched by the delinquent and joined him in watching you talk with a stranger. “Can’t be helped when she’s just as attractive as you are.”

“You didn’t seem to mind it when boys from our school approached her though,” Kakyoin said.

“It’s because I know they won’t risk meeting me when they think of trying,” Jotaro replied. “But I got a feeling that guys from here are more gutsy than in Japan.”

To hammer down on that point, the blond began to point to his biceps and not-so-subtly flexed them for you to see, and you responded with a calm, wide-eyed “woah”. Jotaro rolled his eyes, rubbing a hand over his thick bicep once. “Why not head over there then? If you’re this jealous?” Polnareff said.

“I’m not jealous.” Both the cherry-haired and Frenchman stayed silent, giving him a mere deadpan. “… Fine. Just a bit.”

“So go there and introduce yourself as her boyfriend in your-” Kakyoin gestured over Jotaro’s frame. “-punk delinquent-esque ways.”

“And you can’t judge us for poor advice anymore when Nori here upgraded from telling you how to do things to instead doing things your way!” Kakyoin nodded, bumping fists with Polnareff.

Jotaro judged them regardless with one vertical look-over at the both of them. “I still don’t trust any of your advises. Besides,” he sighed. “After knowing her more, I don’t think she’d like me suddenly walking there and getting possessive.”

“But it’s not being possessive when you’re establishing boundaries monsieur Kujo,” Pol said.

“Don’t call me that,” Jotaro scowled. “Also I don’t get why you two are always in my business. It’s annoying. Leave me alone.”

Not that his “threats” were effective against this duo, who simply shared a look with each other before replying. “What are you talking about? We’re buddies!” Polnareff chuckled, wrapping an arm around the raven-haired teenager. “Who am I to leave a pal behind to wallow in their own self-pity?”

“Also to be honest, it’s entertaining to see you struggle over stuff like this,” Kakyoin said with a smirk. That and paired with those shades he bought from Egypt just made him all the more smug. “Gets all the ladies but can’t handle one-”

“You shut-”

“Hey!” All three paused to look at you waving from a distance with that damn American and his friends still standing near you. “These guys want to play a round but Grandpa Joseph’s tapping out for the day. I’m afraid his bones have become too brittle-”

“No it’s not!” Said the groaning old man plopping down on the sand the moment he reached his and Avdol’s shared blanket. “I didn’t want to overpower those kids that’s all!”

“L-”

“We’re tougher than we look gramps!” The blond called out in return just as Jotaro was about to say something to you. And that didn’t help alleviate any increasing irritation boiling in him. “How about you guys?”

“Us?” Pol asked.

“Yeah! A friendly competition between us youngsters sound good?” He said, ball already in hand. “Just one set of 2v2!”

“I’m down-”

Whatever Kakyoin had to say about accepting the invite got cut off as Jotaro stood from his spot and walked over to your side with his hands in his short pockets. By the time you were beside him, the blond and his posse faltered for a second when they saw how much taller, built, and intimidating this supposed teenager from Japan was compared to them.

“I’m joining.”

You gazed up at him with widened eyes and a dash of pink to your cheeks. “Jotaro-ssi…”

“O-Oh for sure man,” the American cleared his throat, nervous as he looked over his shoulder to his friends. “How about you guys-”

“You chickening out?” Jotaro said in his characteristic blunt mannerisms. “You wanted to play volleyball, looked for a player, and now that he’s here, you’re passing the torch to your buddies?” From the corner of his vision, you crossed your arms facing them, more amused than pissed at his intervention.

He could spot the single bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to play off his cold feet with false bravado. “Nothing wrong than wanting to let my pals have a shot at a game, but since you’re asking for it,” he made show as he tossed and caught the ball. “It’s game on. Though I got to warn you, I have a nasty spike.”

“It’s true!” Polnareff yelled out from the sidelines. “I saw how he moves on the other net.”

Jotaro rolled his eyes and walked off to your side of the field. “Hey, do you even know how to play volleyball?” You said with a whisper. “You haven’t played once during our time here.”

“I’ve watched you and the others play this entire afternoon enough times for me to figure out how to do it,” he said with casual ease, glancing down at you with a shrug. “If a novice can beat an expert Darby at his favorite baseball game, then this will be nothing.”

“Well yeah but you know playing a video game is drastically different than playing an actual game, right?”

He huffed, unbothered. “Makes this better for me.”

With everyone in their respective spots, one of the blond’s friends served as the referee and starting from the other guy’s side, the whistle blew and the ball flew.

True to his word and his ability to study and adapt on the spot, Jotaro managed to keep up with you and his opponents on the playing field, exchanging the ball countless times without break. All the while, the Crusaders watched this one game like die-hard fans at the Superbowl.

It shouldn’t be that much of a shocker when he knew that both of you had physical advantages: Your lithe self allowing you to be more agile and nimble to traverse the court and catch the ball before it fell, while he had the strength and height to send the ball back to the other side, often times targeted to the edges.

And just as the timer was about to hit the 29 minute mark, Jotaro noticed the American get into a stance with a smirk plastered over his tan face. He cocked his head and rose a brow. The nasty spike I assume.

You sent the ball flying to their side and just as he predicted, the blond took over center field and leapt, arm reared and hand poised to deliver his so-called “nasty spike”.

His palm got into contact with the ball’s surface and with a clear smack, the ball was sent flying over to your side. But as he was about to receive, a glint of rose gold zipped past his vision and next thing he knew, the ball was up in the air as if it was caught mid flight to the ground.

One second glimpse at your knowing look, Jotaro didn’t hesitate to follow your footsteps. He leapt off the sand and rose his hand. In that split second, Star Platinum’s purple gloved hand enveloped his and upon contact with its surface, the ball practically launched itself at the American at a raging speed akin to an incoming missile.

The sand erupted in a loud boom, causing a shallow crater with plumes of sand flying off in many directions as the ball hit the ground. It rolled off the now-incapacitated blond stranger’s body.

His friends couldn’t even move nor make the effort to blow the whistle from the shock of it all.

Jotaro tongued the inside of his cheek, casually pocketing his hands back in his shorts as he glared at the American. “Nasty spike ,” he scoffed. “What a joke.”

You whistled, impressed as you looked down the crater. “You did a number on him.”

He reached over to grab your wrist. “Let’s get out of here.” With a gentle tug, you complied to his wish and followed him out the sandy court. He didn’t even bother meeting up with the Crusaders, who were equally stunned at what had happened.

“You’re not at all questioning why I’m not at all offended at you knocking the man out?”

“I’m questioning why you decided to cheat and use Sanctuary midway.”

“The game was ending in a minute anyways,” you said. “And I wanted to finish it off with a bang.”

“By letting me launch a ball at his face?” You smiled and nodded. “And you’re okay with that?”

“He’s a weirdo,” you grimaced. “His fetishes were showing when he said something about how exotic and pretty I was, and it pissed me off.”

Hearing that made Jotaro want to turn around to the guy for one more solid punch to the face. “But I saw you talking to him for that long.”

“Made you jealous, didn’t it?” You said, smug. “I lowkey wanted to bait you into playing a game with me by riling you up a bit, and for you to finish off that creep with what he deserved.”

“I wasn’t-” He bit his tongue, not finishing his train of thought. “I was a bit jealous and I’m glad I got to wreck that shit-eating face of his in the process, but can you not make me feel like this on purpose? It doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Duly noted and I’m sorry,” you said, eyes cast downward as you bowed your head a bit in sincere apology. “I’ll just tell you outright who and when to punch someone next time, promise!”

Jotaro paused in his tracks and with one good look at your determined sparkling eyes, couldn’t help but sigh and smile at you with uncharacteristic fondness.

“Yeah... I’d prefer that.”

[bazpango]

PLEASE tell us more about the hockey au. if you have the bandwidth 🥺

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK @rei-dio ❤️ Also sorry in advance there is a LOT under the cut

I would imagine that Light is a ✨prodigy-once-in-lifetime-talent✨and has always known he’d make the NHL. He’s adored by the fans, the league, and the media for being personable and charismatic off the ice. His first year is explosive and he almost overnight makes a name for himself. I imagine every hat-trick he’d make a show of picking up a lucky fan’s toque and wearing it for press-hits. When he plays, I’d imagine he researches information on opposing teams so he can get in their heads and take the trash talk to another, more vicious intimidating level.

Soichiro played in the JHL in his youth, and then was given an opportunity to coach abroad before Light and Sayu were born. I think it’s be fun if he were Light’s coach, and the team would be respectful of the fact they’re father and son. Soichiro would be equally hard on everyone. Very egalitarian head coach. I have no practice drawing this man and don’t like this drawing but whatever.

(Ok just like, gut instincts) L Lawliet is a star player and was also a ✨prodigy-once-in-lifetime-talent✨ who’d grown bored and complacent with his wins. He’s one of those players who is ultimately as much a nuisance as a necessity on the team, because he’s always kind of dicking off and doing whatever but he always pulls through for his team. Also he fuckin’ CHEWS ON HIS MOUTHGUARD CONSTANTLY. When he and Light are bickering on the ice, Light throws genuine insults and L basically just calls Light a bunch of condescending nicknames like kid, champ, etc. L is known for being a stone wall in interviews so Light doesn’t know anything about the guy.

The first time he feels the thrill of a challenge is the first time he plays Light Yagami, and the rivalry is born. L says something crass during the puck drop and it makes Light so angry that he scores two goals against him in the first ten minutes of play. These drawings below I wasn’t gonna include because I don’t like them at all, but RE: off the ice, I’d imagine that Light is media trained and always comes off professional, whereas L straight up says he doesn’t like the guy (on LIVE television) and thus, the rivalry is born

[allzelemonz]

Might As Well: Negan Smith X FTM Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 4, Forced Proximity Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘man’ and ‘guy’ Physical Sex: AFAB, neutral wording used except in warnings section Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Negan says trans people are hot, Negan being gay, Negan has a dick size fixation, Negan is his own warning, cave in, trapped together, trans reader, trans male reader, vaginal sex, mention of pregnancy possibility but nothing positive, brief masturbation, top Negan and bottom Reader, mention of Reader being thick, mention of future oral sex Summary: While scouting through a cave system, you and Negan get cut off from the others.

The cave-in happened without a lot of warning. Just enough rumbling for everyone to panic, not nearly enough to get Negan out. The rocks fell, filling the whole passage and leaving the rest of the scout team on the other side while you and Negan stand between the fallen rocks and a natural dead end. You can faintly hear Simon and Regina shouting at the rest to shut up, but nothing beyond that.

You look back at Negan, eyes searching for injuries on your boss. “You good?”

He nods. “Dandy, just fucking dandy.”

“Alright!” Simon shouts from the other side of the rocks. “We’re gonna need some tools, probably wood to prop up the cave, get the fuck back to the truck.”

Negan smirks, leaning against the wall. “That’s my Simon, getting shit done.”

“Still gonna be a while.” You run a hand along the rocks. “Shit’s pretty thick, boss.”

“It ain’t the only thing.” Negan mutters, tilting his head as he looks you over. “Would you be absolutely offended if I said I wanted to stuff whatever hole you got, man?”

“Funny, boss.” You mutter, still scanning the rocks to find some kind of opening.

“You think I’d joke about that?” Negan huffs. “You’re a good lieutenant, don’t get me wrong, but my first pick for you was husband. And since we got a while, well… we might as well, huh?”

You look back at him, finding his face oddly steady as opposed to that typical bullshit expression.

“Now.” He sighs, setting Lucielle aside and starting to unbuckle his belt. “Either I beat it to your handsome fucking face or I get to stick this uncomfortable problem between your legs. But I am gonna get off either way, cause you’ve had me hard for like an hour.”

You watch with a bit of a swirling mind as he pulls himself from his pants and starts to stroke.

“Feel free to jump in.” He groans lightly as his head rests back against the cave wall.

You feel a dryness in your throat, a throbbing below the waist, and the immediate image of your boss fucking you into the rocks beneath your feet.

“Okay…” Your voice comes out scratchy and low enough that, in the back of your mind, you wish it would always sound like that.

He pauses, smiling over at you. “Any boundaries I need to know about?”

You crinkle your brow, not fully expecting him to care about something like that.

“Look, man…” He sighs, shaking out his hand. “You ain’t the first guy in that situation I’ve had and you definitely won’t be the last. All I wanna know is if I can touch everything without a lotta grief or if I should just hold your hips and fuck.”

It surprises you for half a second before you realize that, of course, Negan has not only fucked the occasional non-traditional guy but knows how to make that fuck go over well enough that he can empty his balls. “Second one.” You mutter, unbuttoning your pants.

“I’ll keep that in mind. You okay on your stomach?”

You nod, carefully kneeling on the rocks and pulling your pants down your thighs.

“And as far as I’m concerned your dick would probably be huge.” He chuckles as he takes your hips and guides you to prop them up as you settle on your stomach. “You got the biggest balls kinda attitude, but it’s like you don’t give a shit and that’s hot as fuck for me.”

“Thanks…” You mutter quietly, trying not to feel any particular way about the small affirmation.

“Anytime.” He presses his tip up against you, dragging it gently. “Maybe we can find you a nice big dick so you can fuck me next time. One that suits you, gotta be at least eight inches and nice round nuts for a guy as hot as you.”

He presses in, sinking in one thrust as he groans and squeezes your hips. Your back arches on instinct, the filling sensation making everything throb and heat in seconds. Your hand goes to your mouth as he starts to move, not wanting to make anything echo through the other caves.

“Taking it like a champ.” Negan mutters. “Fuck, I can get real deep with you.” He grinds into you, his balls pressing firmly against your skin. “Ya gotta let me cum inside, baby, it’s too good. Dr. Carson’s got pills and shit, just say I can.”

You nod lightly. “It’s fine, boss.”

“Yeah…” He picks up his pace, hunching over you to get deeper. “That’s my guy, huh? Giving the boss everything he can.”

You press your head against the cool rock floor and bite deep into your hand to keep the sounds at bay. Negan’s good. He knows how to fuck and fuck good. Every shove forward now brings you close and it’s one final thrust that brings Negan over that gets you too. He floods you, warm and already leaking out around his dick as it’s settled as deep in you as it can go. You shutter and groan into your hand as your body milks him dry. The two of you lay for a moment, Negan lowers your hips to rest on the ground and hums into your neck as he rests lightly on top of you.

“Next time we’re stuck, I’m sucking whatever dick you got.” He mutters against your skin, giving you a small kiss. “I know there’s shit to make it bigger, and I’ll be damned if I can’t find something. You got no idea how much I wanna get my mouth around it.”

“You plan on getting us stuck in a cave again?” You mumble, a bit tired from the intensity as you lazily shift under him to get more comfortable.

“You could just come see me.” Negan smiles against your neck. “I’d suck you off anytime.”

[phoebejaysims]

Social Clubs Mod - DOWNLOAD

Tired of your sims walking aimlessly through town? No friends, no hobbies, no purpose? Put an end to their lack of a fulfilling social life by creating a million and one clubs for them to join and/or get kicked out of! 

With 50+ activities for you to push, including activities from over 10 different mods, and 4 specialised club types, you can create almost any club you can think of: book clubs, invite-only hangouts, afterschool clubs and more! Grow memberships, take part in tournaments and ship cute little subscription gifts straight to your sim’s door.

Note: This mod is very extensive, so please thoroughly read the documentation in the download that I’ve painstakingly written up.

Compatibility: Should be base game compatible however expansion packs, store content and mods add more content.

7 New Objects: Credit to @aroundthesims who has generously allowed me to use her items as well as @twinsimming who converted 2 items for me. Full credit in the documentation.

Testers: @desiree-uk who not only tested the mod, but contributed ideas for club activities, the banking system and the subscription gift system. @simsdeogloria who kindly offered to test the mod and caught some bugs that I had completely missed.

Credits: Full credit in documentation. However, thank you to @olomayasims​, IcarusAllsorts, Arsil, Buzzler & @zoeoe-sims​, @anitmb​, @greenplumbboblover​, @flotheory​ as I push some of their mods as activities.

Club Types

Custom Club: Push specific activities (or no activity at all) and watch your active and inactive club members congregate and do said activities. Push bowling, swimming, rumba, nectar drinking, collecting, studying, music lessons, among many other things. 

Subscription-Only Club: While members won’t meet up, force them to pay a subscription fee to the club owner for your own purposes. Consider: food subscription service, council-tax payments, school fees.

Book Club: Choose a book for the book club. Your sims will sit together, have discussions, and read said book.

Formal Gathering Club: Set musicians and/or a speaker (podium or pulpit). Have your club members sit down and act like they’re listening to said musicians and speaker. Choose a skill to increase while the club is in operation.

Club Vibes

Clubs can have different vibes depending on the cost and activities, attracting or repelling different types of sims. There are sports, games, intellectual, low-brow and high class clubs. Some personalities will be more inclined to join than others.

Customising Clubs

Set different open days, open hours, required club outfits, subscription fees, gender, age, career and trait requirements/restrictions, forbidden actions etc.

Autonomy

Allow or restrict autonomy in different ways. Make clubs open or closed invite, allowing or disallowing sims to join, leave, or be kicked out of clubs with or without your own input. Put club boards around town and let sims browse. Impress observers by having a great club session and watch them beg to join!

Tournaments

Win tournaments and gain club acclaim. Get cash prizes, find yourself in the newspaper, and find out if any of your fellow club members are playing for the opposing team. Your own sim isn’t exempt from the repercussions of being a club traitor!

Banking

Create Bronzo accounts for your sims. You can link these accounts to schedulers and have the club fee delivered straight into the account. Take out loans, find the best interest rates online and stay out of your overdraft. Try not to get your account details stolen at the all new ATMs that you can place around town and don’t leave your debit card laying around near strangers!

Download MTS: http://www.modthesims.info/d/677428

Conflicts: None.

If you would like to donate to say thank you, you can do that at my Ko-fi, here.

It’s been a long 8 months getting this mod done; thank you all for your patience and enjoy! @ me if you post any pictures of your clubs—I’d love to see your pictures.

[burnthoneydrops]

Could you do a fluff Jamie Tartt imagine where the reader takes care of a drunk Jamie who forgets that they've been dating for months and thinks they're back in their crush phase after they and the boys went out celebrating a win?

Drunk in the Back of the Car (j.t. x fem!reader)

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 654

warnings: language, alcohol

a/n: here you go love! i hope you like it and requests continue to be open!! (also first time writing for jamie so pls be kind lol)

The early 2000’s pop music blasting through the speakers was about to make your brain explode. The boys were celebrating a great victory in their match earlier that day and had all decided to crash this club that Colin had found. The flashing lights and sticky floors were slightly off-putting but the boys just wanted to celebrate and Jamie had insisted you came along too. Keeley and Roy were somewhere, probably at a table stuffed in a corner as Roy hated anyone spotting him. Isaac immediately bought a round of drinks upon entry and thus started the flow of alcohol. You were just glad that you and Jamie had agreed that you would drive home so he could properly celebrate. 

Speaking of your boyfriend, he was nowhere to be seen. A group of you had been gathered in front of the bar, chatting and drinking and dancing- though somewhat badly- and then as the night aged on and people found different things that piqued their interests, the group dispersed into smaller groups across the club. You were clumped together with Colin and Sam, chatting about the opposing team from the earlier match, while Colin interspersed some lyrics from the rap songs that were playing overhead. While laughing at Colin doing this weird dance while rapping, you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

“Your boyfriend is smashed,” Roy commented as he held Jamie under his arms. He was clearly having a hard time standing on his own and it seemed like Roy had dragged him from wherever they were previously stationed. 

“I’m fine grandad,” Jamie retorted, though slurred and he clearly had to put a lot of thought into the short sentence. 

“I’ll take him,” you smiled at Roy, silently thanking him for making sure Jamie got back to you. He nodded and passed Jamie over to you before he walked off, probably going back to find Keeley again. You grabbed one of Jamie’s arms and threw it over your shoulders, leaning his weight into you. “Looks like I’d better get this one home. Enjoy the rest of your night lads”. Sam and Colin say their goodbyes before going to find the other boys. 

“Woah, you better be careful there. I’ve got a girlfriend and I don’t think she’d like you touching me like this,” Jamie tries to stand up straighter to get away from you, but almost immediately tips back over. 

“I am your girlfriend,” you laugh. 

“No way,” Jamie says quietly, in an ‘I can’t believe it’ type of way. 

“Come on Jams, let’s get you home”. 

Despite the copious amounts of effort it took to get Jamie through your front door- which included him almost throwing up in the back seat of your car- you finally got him in bed in a semi-comfortable position. Once you were sure he wasn’t going to throw up in the bed, at least long enough for you to get ready for bed, you headed to the bathroom to take your makeup off and change out of your clubbing outfit. 

“Y/N?” You heard Jamie call from the bed. 

“Yes love?” you question, sticking your head out of the bathroom doorway. 

“How’d you get into my house?” 

“I have a key Jams,” you laugh. 

“Did I give you that?” He tilts his head. 

“How sloshed did you get Jamie?” You move closer to him, sitting down next to him on the bed. 

“Oh my god I’ve got Y/N in my bed,” he whispers more to himself. 

“I’ve been sharing a bed with you for the past two months, love,” you remind him, moving his hair away from his sticky forehead. 

“Holy shit, no way,” he mutters before passing out again. You laugh at his antics and go back to the bathroom, finishing your nighttime routine before grabbing some water and aspirin for the morning. You were so going to make fun of him tomorrow for this.

[sc0tters]

When You Love Someone | Trevor Zegras

summary: Trevor made one of the biggest decisions in your relationship today, so it’s only right that a look back in time at some of the highlights in your relationship happened.

song: Dive - Ed Sheeran

request: yes/no

warnings: none.

word count: 1.85k

authors note: with everything that I’ve written and have planned for Trevor, it’s only fair I give him one good piece where he’s cute. If you want to check out more of the celly playlist, you can do so here.

The perfect fairytale.

That was how you described your three and a half year relationship with Trevor. The two of you met at Boston University where you two were in the same classes for your journalism degree. He had sat next to you in the last seat available in the hall, asked you for a pencil and the rest was history.

December 16th 2019

It was a cold day in Boston, but that didn’t stop your from making sure that you were there to support Trevor for game day. He had been through the game of his life, literally. The New York native was bruised and battered and still managed to pull off a hatty despite the constant hits from the opposing team “Trev!” You called out with a grin as you spotted him. It was a post game tradition for him that you were the first non teammate that he hugged.

The boy picked you up as he squeezed your body in the hug “you wanna put me down?” You asked with a giggle, somewhat taken aback by the fact that he had done that, sure Trevor was clingy but he wasn’t usually one for showing it to the world.

He just looked at you as he smiled “we should go out to celebrate,” Trevor announced causing you to agree with him “I could do with some food.”

The hockey player shook his head “like on a date,” he corrected himself causing you to blink repeatedly.

Yeah you liked Trevor, a lot too, but the idea of him liking you back? Now that was something you didn’t plan for “I’d like that,” you tried your best to remain calm as you placed a kiss on his cheek.

That night he asked you to be his girlfriend.

March 27th 2020

Trevor had told you that he needed to talk to you. You would have been alright with it but he had been so vague that you grew nervous.

It wasn’t that you thought he was hiding something but you had grown sick to your stomach with worry. The text was sent last night but you had crashed early after being sat with your notebooks as a blanket deep in studying for finals.

So as you almost knocked his dorm down, you prepared for the worst “oh thank god,” you murmured as you pulled him into a hug.

Trevor laughed as he wrapped his arms around you “you okay?” He asked as her and his fingers through your hair.

You looked up at him as your chin softly dug into his chest “are you?” You shot back as you smiled.

The boy pulled you into his room as he knew it was a conversation for the private “I gotta tell you something,” he confessed as he tucked the loose strands of your hair behind your ear.

The hockey player sighed as he sat you down “you promise you won’t be mad?” It wouldn’t take a genius to know that you wouldn’t take it too well and that was what terrified him.

A soft laugh fell from your lips “of course I won’t.” You nodded as you placed your hand on his knee.

After seeing that he was physically okay you had grown calmer “I can take whatever you say.” You added as you motioned to him continue.

Trevor took a deep breath before he continued “an agent from the ducks is coming tonight,” there was a major home game for Boston and Trevor was set to have the game of his life.

You let out a gasp “that’s great!” You smiled as you couldn’t understand why he was so scared reveal it to you.

But when the hockey player still had the frown on his face you knew there was more to the story “why isn’t it great?” You furrowed your eyebrows as your lips formed a pout.

Trevor sighed “they want me to sign,” he explained as he tapped his fingers on your thigh, something he did when he was nervous “tonight, win or lose.” The way your facial expressions dropped were something that Trevor was never going to forget.

You forced a smile onto your lips “I’m proud of you.” You mumbled as you pecked his lips.

The hockey cocked his head “you are?” He was surprised that you weren’t upset “I’ll always be proud of you.” You spoke in a duh tone.

January 25th 2022

It had been weird adjusting back to the hockey season at Boston University without Trevor on the team. You missed your boyfriend like crazy so when Jamie asked if you wanted to come to their game against the Bruins to surprise him, you jumped at the opportunity.

The thirty minute car ride felt like the first eternity of your night. The second was when Trevor had been knocked over by one of the Bruins players and he had to take a minute before he got up.

It was fairly safe to say that you still never knew how to handle Trevor getting hurt. When you watched his games in front of your tv or laptop you always had to have a blanket nearby that you could just throw over your head as you’d shove your fingers into your ears to avoid hearing what the commentators had to say about the hits.

Thankfully just like usual Trevor got up as he sent the Ducks bench a thumbs up to show them that he was okay. Being able to play for the rest of the third and even helped the team get a victory from it.

Unfortunately for you it took you longer than you expected to get down to the locker rooms so it meant you had to wait for a bit for him to come out.

Trevor’s hair looked damp as he came out with Jamie who he was in the middle of a conversation with but when the Canadian flashed you a smile, the New York native almost lost it “thought you couldn’t make it,” Trevor murmured as he threw his arms around you engulfing you into his massive hug.

You giggled as you nodded “found a way,” you motioned to Jamie as you mouth a thank you to the younger boy.

The hockey player couldn’t seem to get enough of you “wanna show me your dorm?” He asked as he placed kisses against your forehead going down to your temple.

It was a room he had seem plenty of times before “you saw the tour video!” You scoffed in a duh tone.

Your boyfriend just smirked as he brought his lips down to your ear “yeah but we haven’t done it in there.” He mumbled letting his breath hit the shell of your ear.

Something about the distance always seemed to make you two so horny!

May 3rd 2023

Your big day had finally come, not the wedding one, or one where you had a child. You were graduating.

Sure it was a little upsetting that Trevor wasn’t going to be there but he had a game the next day in New York so you weren’t going to complain.

Your parents rented an AirBnB near the university and that was where you had spent the night before graduation so that you could get ready with your family.

You were busy lining your lips when someone knocked on the door “can someone get that!” You called out as your room was the closest to the front door but you were busy.

There was a laugh as your mom opened the front door “it’s for you honey!” She smiled as she motioned to you to hurry up.

Although it was unintentional you rolled your eyes “what could possibly be so important that-” you stopped in your tracks as your eyes went wide “oh my gosh!” You gasped as Trevor smirked “hi baby,” he smiled as he held his arms out causing you to hug him.

It was a moment that took you by surprise “what are you doing here?” You asked as you couldn’t believe that he was stood in Boston.

Trevor kissed your forehead “couldn’t let my girl graduate without me being here.” He explained as he took in his pretty you were. The boy loved how your grin was toothy as you looked up at him “I love you so much,” you mumbled as you leaned onto you tippy toes to kiss his lips.

The Ducks player swore that you could kill him each time your lips touch his “I love you too,” he smiled as he fixed the smudged lip liner “now let’s go watch my baby graduate,” he added being careful to not your your lip makeup again when he kissed you for a second time.

August 11th 2023

You were staying at a resort in Bali, a trip you had convinced Trevor to go on as you were desperate to see the island. It was a trip that you had both been counting down on as you needed some serious bonding time.

It had been the best few days of your life but today Trevor had sent you down to the spa to have a ‘relaxing day’ which as peaceful as it was, you missed your boyfriend. So as you watched the floor counter in the elevator increase, there was a level of excitement that grew in your bones.

You had been so excited to tell him about your day that you didn’t even noticed the rose petals on the floor or the scented candles that were lit “you will not believe-” you were cut off at the sight of Trevor down on one knee with a ring box in his hand.

Trevor couldn’t help but smile when he saw your glowing skin from the facial that you had done during your time at the spa. He had forgotten that he hadn’t started talking when you had tears in your eyes as you nodded “I remember the first time I met you,”the Ducks player began as he had never told you the story “called my mom after class to tell her I met the girl I was gonna marry.” You were the only girl he had spoken to during that lecture. You made your way to him as he continued “every fight, every kiss, every moment made me fall more in love with you.” That first year of Trevor being in Anaheim almost broke the two of you up, but once you got through it as a couple you were better than ever.

It made you giggle “yes,” you nodded causing the boy to laugh.

The hockey players tongue darted out of his mouth “haven’t even asked you yet.” He pointed out causing you to scoff “hurry up then,” you joked as you cupped his cheek with your hand.

Trevor took the ring from the box as he smiled “marry me?” He asked as you nodded. The boy slipped the ring onto your finger, almost being knocked off of his feet when you kissed him.

The kiss was soft and warm, like it was content and full.

Like it was between two people totally in love.

[ssivinee]

❇︎Subtle Vivacity❇︎

BEBE! Bada Lee x OC Team! F Reader: The competition was growing in intensity every single minute that passed. Bada felt like a nervous wreck for the most part, but not because of the competition. It was because of you.

Word Count: 4.1k

Note: I literally haven't posted a fic in so long, my bad guys🫡. but I'm back! AND THANK YOU GUYS FOR 600 FOLLOWERS. IT ACTUALLY MEANS SO MUCH TO ME🥹.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Lia Kim strode towards the opposing side with a mission in mind, picking Mina Myoung as her no-respect dancer. You stared at the two, already envisioning the scene that was about to unfold. The details of the two old best friends having a fallout were no secret, and as you watched, the feeling of skepticism surged within you. 

As a dance teacher, you weren’t a stranger to young students having bad blood. But these were adults. People who could’ve worked it out behind the scenes, yet here they were, about to battle it out. And you just knew it was gonna be a shitshow.

The crews were absolutely hyped, their excitement filling the fight zone. However, your expression contorted, a grim gaze settling on your face, conveying a different feeling amidst the enthusiasm.

“This match-up is finally happening,” Yoonji says, and Rena of Tsubakill held her hands together, almost hoping for a good match.

“I understand having disagreements, but I’d be highly disappointed if they let their emotions get in the way of dance,” you told the camera during your confessional interview.

Dancing should be fun and full of expression that anyone can enjoy, but your expectations come low with this match-up, as you find your eyes fueling bitterness.

“You seem to have a lot of complaints.” “It’s not that I had complaints. The title of chief choreographer at 1MILLION. I wonder if you earned that solely with your effort.”

“It’s not like I stole it from anyone,” Lia Kim points at herself, her face showing off a slight arrogant feeling. As Mina talks, you begin to space out. The hostility in the air was something you didn’t want to hear.

“This feels like a waste of time and a waste of a battle,” you mumble, but Emi hears it, nodding at your statement. “Maybe they should just have a fistfight to duke it out,” the sub-leader jokes, and you laugh, lowering your head to conceal your reaction.

The battle begins, and as you watch, you can’t help but roll your eyes, eyeing the interaction in disdain. Mina couldn’t properly respect the battle, walking around and almost paying little to no attention to her old friend. She then approaches her opponent, and the two almost hit each other.

You scoff with a laugh, “They can’t be serious right now?”

Some dancers found it cool or scary, but you weren’t entertained, not at all. The rest of your crew could clearly be seen staying seated on your bench with looks of disgust. “Doesn’t look like Doyennes is enjoying the show,” Minah points out to her leader, causing Bada to look over in your direction discreetly.

She stared at your crew, seeing the repulsed faces. Your eyes looked bored yet stern as you watched the two dancers battling it out.

“They look fucking crazy,” you mouth silently, telling yourself, but as if Bada becomes the best mouth reader in the world, she understands as her eyes grow wide at your words.

Your eyes roll back as the battle ends, the scene that occurred leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “Should’ve just fought each other,” Bell says, and the rest just nod, not even having the energy to talk after that.

After a few other dances, the ace battles were about to begin. You find yourself turned around, delegating with your crew. “It's either you or Serena,” Athena says, and the other girls nod. You look over at Serena, your youngest, having the most wins and battles despite not showing everything she’s got.

“You think you’ll be up for it?” You question, and everyone looks at her as she gives you a determined nod. “Well, that fixes it then.”

Serena had gone up and challenged every single ace but wasn't chosen once. When it was her turn to pick, it was only between Waaxcky and Baby Sleek, one more hesitant than the other. Your youngest gives the two a friendly smile, “I’ll go with Baby Sleek.”

As if the whole room freezes at her choice, silence engulfs everyone but your crew, who cheer. “This one's gonna be good,” you hear Maya say as she and Bell giggle from behind you.

You stand up behind Serena, arms crossed, as she starts off hearing, “ZOO” by the artists of SM. The song choice has you smirking as Serena’s innocent eyes transform into an intense gaze. Your eyes glide to the right, staring directly at Bada, who you knew helped choreograph this song. Her eyes didn’t leave the younger dancer, probably wondering how she would dance to the song.

As the pre-chorus hits, Serena moves her body, hitting every tick she can, isolating the upper half of her body. She then goes on her knees, hitting dime stops as the chorus comes up. 

Just like a zoo!

Serena acts like an animal crawling on the floor as she bounces back up, hitting a move that feels almost impossible. She bent her back, showing her face upside down to Baby Sleek, then slid black down smoothly head first.

You were hyped, only showing a smile and little jumps at the tricks she pulled. 

The crowd was gradually getting into it, some cheers filling the air as Serena continued to showcase her dynamic moves. As the second verse approached, she switched to a more fluid style, transitioning between smooth waves and sharp pops. The versatility in her dance style was apparent, and the spectators were captivated by the unexpected yet impressive performance.

Baby Sleek, on the other hand, appeared a bit taken aback, her usually confident demeanor showing signs of uncertainty. The complexity of Serena's routine seemed to catch her off guard. Bada observed from her seat, a raised eyebrow indicating her surprise at the unfolding scene.

As the music reached its climax, Serena unleashed a flurry of quick footwork, perfectly in sync with the beats. The energy in the room heightened, and even those who initially doubted Serena's choice were now nodding in approval.

The final beats of the song echoed, and Serena struck a powerful pose, her eyes locking with Baby Sleek's. The room fell silent for a moment before erupting into cheers. Your crew, especially, erupted into joy, proud of Serena's stellar performance.

Bada's eyes were fixed on you, a subtle acknowledgment of the skill displayed by your crew's youngest member. Serena bowed to Baby Sleek, offering a smile, a gesture that carried sportsmanship.

As Serena returned to your crew, you gave her a nod of approval, “Good job. You killed it.” The younger dancer beamed with pride, her eyes gleaming with accomplishment.

The judges held their cards, and when the results were revealed, it was a unanimous decision in favor of Serena. Other crews had a go, even leading into the crew battles, but they finally revealed rankings for the no-respect battles. The show continued with all the groups having a crew dance battle. The day was now about to end with the rankings of each crew.

The crew rankings were announced, and Doyennes had taken second with ten wins and three losses. So when the girls retreat back to their rooms, they cheered. The adrenaline still lingering in everyone's veins.

“We killed that shit!” Maya squeals and Bell is seen hopping by her side, full of excitement. “If only I didn’t lose twice,” Athena grumbles, and Emi adds, “And if I didn’t lose once.” You shook your head at the girls, “Your battles were both against Wolf’Lo members. They’re tough to beat in battles. You guys did good regardless.”

“People should’ve danced against me more during the ace battles,” Serena mumbled as the other girls were cheering and trying to hype the other two up. You look at the youngest, knowing that look of disappointment anywhere. “Chin up, baby. You did good,” You tell her, taking a seat beside the young dancer as you rest your arm on her shoulders.

“Besides, they were scared of you out there. Take some pride in that,” You told her in Korean, and she smiled a little, feeling better at the words of encouragement.

The Korean was something that only you two bonded over the past few months, and Serena learned a lot from you. She knew you viewed her as your younger sister, and she also saw you as her older one.

“We’re gonna kill this competition,” Serena says, suddenly becoming bold with her words of choice. “We’ll show them who the Professors of Dance are,” You tell her, a confident smirk painted on your face.

Suddenly, the monitor turned on, and everyone saw Daniel. “Here we go again,” you heard Emi voice out. “Street Woman 2, the 1st battle, no respect, battle with the worst dancer. Did it help you figure out the other crews? To try and secure your ranking or go up in the ranking, here’s the next mission you’ll have to face soon.”

Everyone sits up except you, leaning back and relaxing on the sofa, almost knowing what the mission would be. “Your next mission is… the Class Mission.” You smile at the words. The mission where leaders had gone viral multiple times for their pieces. Safe to say you were excited, but you held it in, wanting to hear what the songs were first. 

“In the class mission, the elite members of each crew will be assigned to four classes. The leader class, sub-leader class, middle class, and rookie class. Each class will finish a dance video.”

“These are gonna be hard, but I know my girls are capable enough to hold their own,” you said in your confessionals.

“In each class, there will be one main dancer to be the protagonist in each video. The main dancer will get extra points, stand at the center of the video, and direct the dance video. Individual scores will be given out in the class mission. The points will be distributed differently in each class. The three fight judges will rank the dancers of each class from 1st to 9th places.”

“So we have to stand out regardless of whether we're the main dancer or not?” Maya questions, and you nod. 

Daniel explained the rest and the benefits that Wolf’Lo gets, and then the leaders began picking which dancers to put in which class.

You sat in another room, thinking hard about the next decisions you were about to make. One person from your crew would have to sit out, and 2 positions were already set in stone for the crew. You are in the leader class, and Emi is in the sub-leader class. So, who were the next choices? 

“I have to be smart about this,” you mumbled as the camera rolled and recorded each name you wrote down on your paper.

When thinking about the rookie class, you didn’t think of the least experienced member but the most youthful one, so Bell was your pick. You then contemplated the last three, Serena, Athena, and Maya. You wanted to put Serena in one of these classes, knowing she was such a strong dancer but Athen and Maya seemed to be a duo that worked like yin and yang, so you opted for the two instead.

“Joined by the best producers in South Korea, here are the songs for the class mission.”

“Oh, we get to hear them now?” Bell states, almost jumping in her seat like a rabbit.

The first song was the Dynamic Duo’s ‘Smoke.’ The crew listened and grinned as they stared at you. “The songs are totally your style, Lo,” Emi yelled, and everyone agreed and you sat there, only nodding your head as you listened to the song. It was aggressive and hip, something you were fond of hearing. “I can definitely work with that.”

Then Crush popped up on the screen, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, not being too fond of the artist. Ehem, with the things he’s done in the past that we don’t talk about.

It was then time to show ‘Click Like,’ and as much as you weren’t fond of the guy, you hated to say that the song was groovy and easy to listen to. “It sounds sexy as hell,” Emi says, almost pondering. It wasn’t exactly her strongest suit, as contemporary was storytelling, but she knew she could make it work somehow.

When ‘Swipe’ and ‘Twerk’ were revealed, you felt a weight come off your shoulders, knowing you picked the right girl for each class for sure.

It was finally the day to choose the choreography for each song and you danced in your designated hideout, doing some final markings for the dance. As the headphones settled comfortably over your ears with bass-boosted music, you didn’t hear the knock on the door. 

Bada peaks her head in, volunteering to get you as every other leader was in the fight zone, already preparing to present their dance. The leader of Bebe didn’t want to intrude and seemed like she was scoping out the competition; however, she couldn't resist gazing at you.

You weren’t facing the door, but Bada felt the immense aura you exuded, the power in your motions clearly pronounced even if you weren’t going all out.

You flaunted remarkable control over your body, a trait Bada undoubtedly possessed. Yet, there was a distinctive quality when it came to your interpretation of dance. The way she clearly saw your muscle flexing, the change in dynamics in certain parts, the way your blonde hair danced with you.

Safe to say, she felt a bit intimidated watching you.

After what felt like forever, Bada decides to step in, tapping your shoulder. You look over, seeing her with a friendly smile as you slip the headphones onto your collarbones, “Everyone else is downstairs now.” Your eyes somewhat widen at the words, and Bada finds your bewildered face adorable. Your siren eyes practically turned into large innocent bubbles.

“Oh god, I’m sorry. Did I make you guys wait for too long?” You ask, settling your devices onto the table as you pat your clothes down a bit. “No, we were gonna start in ten, but I just wanted to let you know,” Bada tells you, not wanting to admit that she basically spent three of those ten minutes staring at your dance. 

“Well, thanks for letting me know,” you tell her, then sipping on your water. “Let’s go down now?” You question, and she nods, moving to the side to let you pass. She closes the door for you. “What a gentlewoman,” you tease, and Bada’s cheeks go pink, making you chuckle at the flustered sight.

As you guys make your way down, you see all the leaders seated on the floor, and the two of you decide to sit next to each other on the rear end. Halo then goes first, and you stare at the dance with dull eyes. She made it work, but as a collective team? It didn’t suit a group performance, or any of the other leaders for that matter.

The feedback was lethal, which was expected in this class. It felt like a barrage of bullets targeting each dancer as they showed their pieces. Nob, Funky Y, Mina, Lia, Kirsten, and Akanen faced the same feat, everyone having more unfavorable things to say about their dances. You stayed quiet for the most part until it was only you and Bada left.

Deciding to go next, you stood on the walkway, rolling your neck a bit. Other crews watched in their hideouts and couldn’t help but compliment you over and over again even if you hadn’t started yet. 

“God, how can someone look so cool?” 

“Doesn’t she look like a Barbie?”

“This mission was probably a piece of cake for her.”

As you began, Bada expected highly of you from what she had already seen from her sneaky preview and you didn’t disappoint. You played it smart, and the choreography was easy to follow. It would appeal to the audience, and Bada knew, with a face like that, you were stealing everyone's hearts as they watched you.

The movement of your hips were fluid, and each move connected perfectly with power and energy. 

This had Bada feeling nervous.

She believed that you and Kirsten were her biggest competitors but for different reasons. Kirsten was a dancer who had the most unique style amongst all the leaders, making any dance her own.

You, on the other hand, were the most similar to her, but almost felt like a better version. You were taller, had more experience, excelled in advanced styles of dance, won competitions, and worked with several global artists.

At this point, you were the only one to look out for.

You ended up blowing out a flame on your pointer finger, and Bada wanted to clap for you but held back. “It definitely felt the coolest as of right now,” Funky Y said, “but I think only some of us can pull this off.”

“This is a dance I would like to do, the power, the fluidity, dynamics. It was entertaining to watch,” Kirsten says, and you nod at her, appreciating your friends feed back. For the most part, everyone said similar things.

Then it was Bada’s turn, and as soon as she began, you knew the fight would be tough. Bada seemed to embody the song perfectly, and it had you smirking. ‘I’m so fucked,’ was what you thought. The tall leader was the definition of charisma and charm, and it irritated you a little bit.

It was a competition, and you were admiring a competitor. 

In most cases, you’d be okay with this, but seeing how you and Bada almost mirrored each other in a way didn’t sit well in your mind. It felt a little unsettling, not realizing the similarities until the she danced.

“While watching Bada, I could find no flaws,” Halo says. That’s when a lot of the compliments were rolling in, and somehow, the two of you were now in the same boat. The votes were evenly split, four for you and four for Bada. Then Mina brings up a point that the choreos chosen seemed to be easy to steal.

That somehow caused a stir for people to reevaluate their decision, but in the end, Bada ended up taking the crown. You pat her on the back, “Congrats.” “Thank you,” she bows at you.

"Your choreography is fun... just don't get too comfortable now," you playfully tease, but she senses a hint of seriousness in your words. "Don't worry, I'm not. I can't be, especially with you in this competition," Bada teases back, and your eyebrow raises at the playful tone.

You held a sly smirk. 

Let the fun begin.

It was now time for the leader class to perform, and you stood beside Kirsten as you waited for your turn. “You ready for this?” Kirsten whispered to you, leaning in a bit. “Always am,” you confidently stated with a smile.

The first group went first, but your attention was fixated on Bada the entire time. You marked the routine as the song played, but your eyes couldn’t stray away from her alluring figure. As Bada rolled her hips, you couldn't help but let out a low groan.

How could someone be so sexy? Bada could quite literally just stand there, and STILL look that good.

As your group took the stage, you casually fixed your hair into a low ponytail. The music started, and during the lighter parts, your expression changed, and your thumb flick signaled the beginning of what promised to be an extraordinary performance. You seemed lost in your own world, drawing everyone's attention with captivating expressions.

You danced with an approach that seemed like a mix of Bada and Kirsten. The power and force were Bada’s style, but the usage of space and foot work were similar to Kirsten.

It wasn’t “their style” but while watching the two practice for a bit, you brain picked up certain portions that you liked from each. The group finishes off and you and Kirsten pose with your left hands on your back, the hand interpreted lighter and its flame, and a little reverb to the movements.

The announcement of a reaudition brought a momentary sigh. Akanen and Bada performed first. Despite Akanen's skill, Bada's towering presence seemed to overshadow her. The tall dancer felt like a lion on that stage, and everyone had to be wary of it.

When it was your turn, dancing with Kirsten felt like a trip down memory lane. The camaraderie and playfulness between you two filled the stage with an energy echoing the past. Both leaders strategically occupied the space, ensuring every eye was fixated on them. Bada, in particular, watched you intently, her gaze never wavering.

You two work so well together, Bada thought. She wasn’t sure if she felt jealousy bubbling within her or anxiety. You and Kirsten were just too good to overlook. Bada would’ve liked to put the two of in your place to show who the better dancer is amongst you three.

But seeing how all these interactions with you… it felt like you were putting Bada in her place without even trying.

The duo of you and Kirsten ended and cheers, screams, and yells could just be heard. Yet when they hear Shownu speak again, the fight zone quiets down.

The announcement of a reaudition between you and Bada sparked more excitement. Speculations about the impending battle buzzed among the crews. "This battle is gonna be intense," Harimu exclaimed. Baby Sleek pondered on the similarities between your dancing styles, a sentiment echoed by Halo, who had a front-row seat to the choreography selection.

As you and Bada stood in the middle of the stage, the energy was electric, ready to set it on fire. The music played and the synchronization of your movements to each lyric showcased a dance battle that promised to be nothing short of thrilling.

Light it up.

As you and Bada approached the flickering flame, there was an undeniable intensity in the air. The atmosphere charged with electric energy as the two of you prepared to unleash pure power onto the dance floor. The crews, judges, and Daniel could sense that something extraordinary was about to happen.

As you both simultaneously blew out the flame, the movements displayed the grand usage the two of you had on your bodies. They were aggressive, energetic, and filled with intensity that seemed unreal to everyone else as they watched on the sidelines.

Your chemistry with Bada was visible, and as the two of you danced side by side, it felt as if the entire room was witnessing a performance by a duo that had been seamlessly engulfed in dance together for years.

The synergy between your movements was more than just coordination; it was a shared language, a non-verbal dialogue that spoke volumes about the connection you shared. The dance floor became a canvas, and each step, each gesture, painted a vivid picture of unity.

The unfolding scene was hypnotic. The onlookers were drawn into a trance as they heard the resounding echoes of your footsteps and witnessed the unparalleled control you both had over your limbs. So when the two of you ended the performance, both facing the judges as you both blow out the flame, you heard the clapping around you, everyone acknowledging the two of you as amazing dancers.

As the judges discussed, the decision felt like it could go either way. Many of the crews pointed out that both of you should just be the main dancer instead, end of story. You peer over to your right, feeling Bada’s ansty movements, as she couldn’t stand still. 

“No matter who wins, you did amazing,” you whisper, leaning into her ear as you pull her into a side hug, gripping her waist ever so slightly. Bada’s body heats up at the feeling of your breath on her ear, and she feels even more nervous. 

But now, it was because of you. 

Your large hands felt warm, and your slender fingers wrapped on one side of her waist, a sensation she didn’t know she needed. Before Bada could respond, the three judges sat back down, and Shownu brought the mic up, “The main dancer we chose for this class is…”

The anticipation seemed to tighten its grip on Bada, making her almost oblivious to her own actions as she subconsciously held your hand. You glanced down, a slight smile playing on your lips as you met her gaze. The announcement of "Bada" prompted a heavy sigh of relief from Bebe's leader.

You clapped, pulling her into a genuine hug. "You were insane," you mumbled, planting a kiss on her temple, feeling honored to engage in such an intense competition.

Monika, beginning to explain the challenging decision, expressed, "You two felt like one person dancing on stage. I still can’t wrap my head around it, in all honesty. The choice ultimately came down to who we felt fit the song better, and that was Bada."

"The two of you, being tall dancers, feels like you’ve started something revolutionary," she continued, and both of you bowed, smiles etched on your faces.

After the competition, you found yourself alone in your hideout, taking a moment to rest. A knock interrupted your light nap, and you welcomed Bada in with a smile. "What’s up, main dancer?" she greeted with a chuckle. "I saw the lights still open in here and just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"That’s sweet of you," you replied, sitting up. "But I’m fine. Just wanted a little break before heading out." Bada suggested heading out together, and you agreed, ensuring you had everything before leaving.

As you walked together, Bada broke the silence. "The way you dance… It’s so entrancing." You smiled at her. "Dance has been the only thing I’ve known for years, Lee, so I’d hope it feels like that."

“Maybe you can teach me one day?” Bada asks, her face full of mischievousness, but she is being literal.

Who wouldn’t wanna learn from the famous Lotus?

In Bada’s mind, you were someone that people wanted to be. Maybe she wanted something more out of the lessons from you, but only time could tell right now.

Bada had expected you to just laugh and shake off the idea, but while walking, you look at her straight in the eyes, not breaking any eye contact as she sees a smirk on your plush lips.

“When the show doesn’t take up our schedules, I’ll take you up on that offer.” You wink, walking away, into your car, leaving Bada standing there a bit distraught.

Well… I’m screwed, Bada thought while walking away, hands covering her eyes as she shook her head, trying to calm down her flustered self again.

You were dangerous for her, and it felt like you could possibly be Bada’s downfall in this competition.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Tag list (OPEN): @bada-lee-ily @froufrousnowman @amararosesblog @tikitsune @nimixe @lorenztired @sammybeefangirls @cephox @1luvkarina @badasgirlfriend @keiddeu @mikaleialt @maknaehyucks @fillthwvoid @aestrelle19 @cool-ultra-nerd @itsbokutosjuicyass @gaymoregayandgayer @tnu-ree @cutelittleakira @hallotherenicetomeetyou @jksjx @2silverchain @avocifera @efyyylee @wiselight @dkluvs @kaylinsimpson @santasbitch @strawblueberrys @smh-anon @badaswifey @pupbistro

[jusst-you-race]

max and charles, 18!

i hope you don't mind that i made this volleyball au (i miss it) and also that it's... not really a kiss <3 thank you for the prompt!!!

a kiss as encouragement

The whistle blows as Charles slams the ball down on the other side of the court, easily breaking through the opposing block. Max swears loudly, and Checo winces, shaking out the hand that the spike had hit. There’s a chorus of cheers behind him from his team but Charles doesn’t turn to them just yet, instead he waits for Max to look his way. It doesn’t take long, they always seem to find each other’s gaze across the net.  

Charles blows a kiss at Max. Max scowls in response.

“Oh my god Charles you need to stop being a menace or the other team is actually going to kill us.”

Charles rolls his eyes.

“It’s for encouragement, Pear.”

“Encouragement?” Pierre asks sceptically.

“Yes. They are playing terribly today. Max always responds well to being pissed off.”

They both watch where Max has pulled the other team into a huddle, and can just hear his angry spitting from where they’re standing. Daniel looks like he’s trying very hard to placate Max, Lando and Oscar look like they're trying very hard not to laugh. 

Satisfied, Charles turns back to his own team. 

Lewis is levelling him with a very unimpressed look. 

“Charles, if you’re done winding up our opponents now? I’d like to actually talk about strategy.” 

A little bit sheepish, Charles worms his way into the group huddle, tucking himself into Pierre’s side. He only half listens to what Lewis is saying; Pierre is setting today and Charles knows his play style back to front so he’s not worried about missing any tactics. Instead his mind wanders, as it so often does, to Max. 

The blown kiss had mostly been a joke, something he knew would get under Max’s skin, which is Charles’ favourite activity after volleyball. But really, deep down, when he forces himself to acknowledge it, he did sort of want to blow Max a kiss.

It’s not just a kiss you want to blow…

Charles ignores his traitorous brain. The little voice in the back of his head that whispers about Max when he’s caught off guard and not violently beating it back with a stick. It’s getting a little bit louder every time they play the other team, and today has been especially bad. Max had shown up in a clearly borrowed t-shirt that must have been from Lando, judging by how it seemed a size too small. The way the shirt hugs the swell of Max’s chest has been incredibly distracting today, and Charles is genuinely glad that Pierre has been setting. He would have been absolutely screwed if Lewis was making him work for it with his clever sets. 

“Charles isn’t listening, he’s clearly thinking about Max.”

Charles winces, caught, and embarrassed that even Valtteri has picked up on it. Lewis just rolls his eyes. 

“Well Charles will just have to keep up,” he says as he waves his hand to dismiss the team and steps back away from the court. Charles flashes him a winning smile in an attempt to placate him, and then strides to his position by the net. 

Max is directly opposite him now. 

They lock eyes as George prepares to serve somewhere behind Charles. He brings his hands up to protect his head without breaking eye contact with Max. 

The whistle blows.

Max blows a kiss.

Charles’ brain short circuits.

[activesplooger]

ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍᴇ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ | ᴠᴏx x ᴀꜱꜱɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴛ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Notes: (MDNI) okay so hi! first post, and first time writing something like this. im just making this for fun I dont rlly expect people to see it lol but if you do lmk if you have any suggestions! This is sort of a little precursor to the main story with this being about Vox’s past and what he used to be like. enjoy, lmk if you like it or have advice.

Masterpost!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Knock knock

“Sir?” 

“Come in”

You walk into Vox’s office, a small sleek space riddled with parts of unfinished technology and a large desk facing various fatback TV’s. Your boss is fixated on the screens in front of him, perched at the edge of his chair as he stares at the Radio Demon displayed walking the streets of hell.

“Ahem, Sir?”, You interrupted. 

Vox whips his large head at you and smiles nervously “A-Ah! Y/N! When did you get here?” He stands up from his chair and stands awkwardly to cover the TV’s displaying the overlord. This wasn’t an unusual sight, you knew about your bosses infatuation with Alastor and the various cameras he had set up around Hell to keep a close eye on him.

You quirk an eyebrow at Vox and smirk “I have the coffee you requested, Sir.” Setting down the large black coffee, you give him a reassuring smile and whisper “Don’t worry, I won’t tell the others.”

Taking the coffee in his large hands, he smiles and let’s out a relieved exhale “Thank you, Doll, I don’t know how I’d get by without you…” His eyes flicker from the monitors to you “Big day today! I’m finally gonna let him in!”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You knew about Vox’s plan to invite his old pal to join the Vees, but you didn’t know that he’d actually go through with it. Alastor’s reluctance to accept the changing tech industry, a change which Vox fully supported and aided in, caused a tension between the Alastor and the Vees. Despite their opposing views, Vox wasn’t going to let that get in the way of his infatuation their friendship. You had only met Alastor briefly, bringing Vox some paperwork while they chatted in his office. The Radio Demon gave you a wide (and slightly unsettling) smile as he took your hand and shook it firmly without warning. A chill ran down your spine as he touched you, something was telling you that he wasn’t entirely genuine with his joyful demeanor. That, and, he just gave you the creeps. Alastor didn’t exactly have the purest reputation in Hell.

“Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you! Quite a pleasure!” The demon’s staticky voice threw you off for a moment, but your boss had a TV for a head so you paid it no mind. You quickly introduced yourself and went about your day doing various tasks that Vox requested. Though your interaction with Alastor was short, something about him just made you uneasy… “Oh well”, you thought, “It’s hell, who doesn’t give you the creeps?”.

Sometimes, Vox would have you assist his partners Valentino and Velvette whenever he didn’t require you. As you spent more time with the two, their opinions on Alastor became very clear. They definitely weren’t charmed by him the way Vox is, and pretty much brushed him off as some old fashioned “prude” (Valentino’s words).

All of this led you to wonder why in the hell Vox would want Alastor, the demon who despises technology change and doesn’t get along with Valentino and Velvette, to join his team thats literally all about change in technology and would have to see Velvette and Valentino on a daily. But at the end of the day, Vox knows Alastor way better than you do. He must have a good reason to be so enamored with his presence and invite him to his business.

“That’s great news, Sir. I wish you luck!” you replied. Vox flashes a charismatic grin and waves a dismissive hand “Luck? No need! I’m sure he’ll say yes, who wouldn’t want to join us? We’re the fastest growing overlords in Hell!” The TV demon lets out a hearty laugh as he continues, “He’d have to be out of his mind to decline a once in an afterlife time opportunity!”. 

“He is out of his mind” you think to yourself, but again you dismiss the negative thought from your mind. Your boss must have good reason to be this confident, who were you to judge? You barely even know Alastor, your opinion is loosely based off his reputation and Velvette and Valentino talking shit on him.

“Right, of course, Sir. My apologies. Do you require my assistance with anything else?” you inquire. Vox taps a teal claw to his screen as he thinks. He smiles, 

“You know that extra office we have?” 

“Yes, sir.”

“Get it ready for our new member for me will ya, Doll?” 

You nod your head and turn to leave “Right away, Sir.”

“Oh and, Y/N?” 

Stopping in your tracks you turn to face him, “Yes?” 

“Thank you.”

A soft smile creeps onto your lips at your bosses praise, it’s always nice to hear that you’re doing a good job. “My pleasure, sir”.

The day goes on as usual. You set up the extra office for Alastor, putting in some furniture but trying to leave it relatively bare for him to add his own personal touches. By the time you finished, it was getting pretty late. Vox hadn’t been seen since you saw him earlier that morning to bring him his coffee. “Maybe he’s in his office going over some details with Alastor…” you think to yourself. Still, it was strange, you figured if The Radio Demon actually agreed your boss would take a victory lap through the building and gloat to everyone. But, you hadn’t seen him at all. In fact, it’s been eerily quiet… 

You walk to his office and see the door was slightly ajar. Softly pushing open the door, you call out “Si-“ a gasp escapes your lips before you can finish. The once sleek and high tech office was now in shambles. His desk was broken in half and the TV’s that sat upon it were broken. Glass littered the floor from smashed windows and TV screens. Still, none of the mess could compare to what was sat in the middle of it all. 

Your boss was slumped lifelessly against the broken desk, the glass of his TV head was shattered and no longer displayed his face. Frayed wires with little sparks of electricity were visible as they spewed out of his broken head. The only sounds in the room are the buzzing of electricity and the faint sounds of the city coming through the broken windows.

“What the fuck happened here…”

———————————————————————

Part one?? Maybe idk ahah lmk what u think and if u have any ideas. <3

Masterpost!

[simp999]

Hi! I saw your requests were open and thought I'd pop in to ask How Would The Mercs Reach To Their S/O Picking Up Phrases Or Slang That They Use! Bonus points if S/O also says phrases in the Mercs' native tongue ^^

THIS IS THE STUFF, PEOPLE!!!! I love this prompts so much oh my gosh, thank you so much for requesting!!! I may have gotten a tad carried away with Sniper's part, whoops..

Merc's Reactions to Their S/O Picking up Words/Phrases/Slang That They Use - drabbles

Total wc: 2.4k

Mercs included: All

Masterlist

Scout:

After being around him for such a long time, it’s not too surprising that sometimes you’d accidentally slip into a bostonian accent for some words. But the first time Scout caught you saying one of his lines was in the middle of battle. - Your two classes didn’t really mesh too well, so you wouldn’t be near each thother too often. Which means that he has no idea how long you’ve been doing this for.

You hadn’t noticed Scout run behind you after noticing you turning a corner. You jumped down from the ledge, spotting an opponent right below you. With a big swing of your weapon and a crit hit that landed perfectly on the back of their head, you shouted:

“Hah! Take that, chucklenuts!”

Scout couldn’t help but laugh at that, feeling pride wash through him. That means you think he’s funny! It’s not a direct complement, but it sure feels like it for him. It probably didn’t help that you yelled “BONK!” as your hit landed, too. It didn’t really matter to him if you guys ended up winning that battle or not, because that was a big enough win for him. (Though, you did end up winning with how much quicker he was on his feet.)

It really just made him fall even more in love with you.

Soldier:

Hearing him go on about war and America so often eventually meant you using references some times, or throwing in a few words relating to those things at times. It’s happened before where your team was right close to losing, so the opposing team felt more lax and confident. You were the start of the comeback, killing their Medic, and shouting:

“It ain’t over 'till it’s over, Maggot!”

Soldier didn’t even catch the fact that you used one of his most common nicknames. It just kinda flew over his head.

Of course, it wasn’t just words and phrases that you’d stolen from him - It’d be wrong to say that you didn’t get a bit more chaotic, too.

The one that struck him right in the face, though, was when you sacrificed yourself for him, while killing multiple enemies. You had shouted “Death before dishonor!” as you did. 

It had landed you the victory.

After the battle, he had quickly picked you up and threw you on his shoulders, holding your legs in place as he marched on. He gave you a whole speech about how “YOU DESERVE A MEDAL OF HONOR, CUPCAKE!!”

Pyro:

-Uhhhh

.

.

-jk, as if I’d leave my favorite firebug out ;)

Obviously, mimicking any common phrases of theirs wasn’t really possible…but! I can promise you that they only fell harder for you when you started adapting their little tweaks to sign language that they tended to use. One thing that was very common of Pyro to do was to use the short form of “I love you”. They loved the fact that it was so much quicker to do, and easy, and it’s so simple!

There’s a good chance that you weren’t completely fluent in sign language when you first showed up as a merc, so you had Engineer and Pyro gladly help you. So, that’s what made them even more excited to see you pick up on their mannerisms.

Because you knew the right way to do it. Pyro knows this, because they’ve seen you either learn it with Engie, or do it before.

Their favorite thing was seeing how you got more comfortable with sign language with time. Your movements are so much less stiff, and much quicker. It’s almost second nature to you now, and they can’t express how happy it makes them!

Though, lots of cuddles and gasmask kisses seems to do the trick.

Heavy:

Heavy caught you the first time you said it. His favorite step in your relationship was the night he decided to call you милая (milaya). You two were snuggled up next to eachother after a long day of battles, enjoying eachother’s warmth. (He’s a human heater, so this happens pretty often.) He wasn’t really expecting you to catch it, throwing it in the middle of his sentence to try to hide it. - He’s still a bit nervous about trying new things, you know! - But, you had indeed questioned him on what it meant. He merely explained that it was a term of endearment, and he struggled to find similar english words and ended up fumbling with Honey, Darling and Sweetie. Your face had gotten a little warmer at that, but you had expressed how much you liked the name and he had began to use it since. Now, it simply rolled off his tongue with ease when talking or calling out to you.

Ironically, it was nearly the same situation, only months later. You two were once again cuddling after a long day, though much more tired. This time, you two were laying down on Heavy’s giant bed with him on his back and you on your front right on top of him. You were almost out like a light, but you had noticed that your throat was dry. A glass of water was within Heavy’s reach, so you had mumbled in a groggy voice:

“Mind passing me that glass of water, милая(Milaya)?”

The way you said it without the russian accent almost tripped him up, but he froze right before picking up the glass for you. He figured you must have meant to use his nickname, Misha, or even his actual name, Mikail. He didn’t ask you about it, as you were asleep before he could form the right sentence. 

It had plagued his mind for a while though, and may have made his face go pink a few times during battle. 

Engineer:

Do you guys have any idea how wild some southern phrases can be?? Imagine picking up on that! But I won’t go into that, instead, imagine adapting his southern conjunctions. Ya’ll, ain’t, Y'all'd've. .. okay maybe not that last one, but still.

Something more common that you most likely picked up on was sometimes no longer pronouncing the G at the end of words. Fixin’, attackin’, goin’, etc. Just like Scout, you probably also had a few words that slipped into that southern accent.

But by far, the most common thing you did was drop the G and use ‘y’all’. Dell definitely noticed, and probably poked fun at you at times.

“Ya’ll wanna play darts or somethin’ later?” You head poked into the common room, where most of the usual mercs were hanging out, already drinking beer and chatting away. He’d let out a snicker, then follow it up with something along the lines of:

“Yer startin’ ‘ta sound a lil’ too much like me, Honeybee.”

He definitely gently teases you about it, “correcting” you if you “forget” to use the southern version of whatever you said.

“Don’tchya mean ‘ya’ll’?”

Demoman: (small gore mention)

Man, don’t get me started with all the weird stuff he says. The thing is, he doesn’t often use the same insults, so you don’t end up picking up on the more obscure ones. You might slip and say “ya” instead of “you”, and you might pick up on using “bloody” to accentuate what you’re trying to say. You might also pick up saying “aye” to get people’s attention. 

He thought it was absolutely adorable, and would often follow through with whatever you said with something of his own. 

You really wanted to use your favorite line of his on the battlefield one day, but he just so happened to be with you when you got a sweet domination, taking an opponent’s head clean off. You kinda forgot that he was with you, as he was focused on another opponent, so you let the line slip:

“Hah! They’re going to have to glue you back together… IN HELL!”

You weren’t expecting him to notice, or at least make it obvious that he did, but he immediately called out after you:

“AYE, THAT’S RIGHT YE BLOODY BADASS! THA’S HOW IT’S DONE!!” 

Medic: (Gore mention)

It’s common for Medic to use filler words such as "eh, ah, um, er, eheh, aha, ja", and you’ve adopted that little habit. He finds it adorable that you started copying him!

Though, he definitely treats it as an experiment, as he does with most things. He also probably tallies it up. Like, he’ll just be having a conversation with you and have his notepad handy, and he only stops tallying when it seems like you might be catching on.

He’ll purposely use one of the filler words more often than others to see if you’ll do the same. It works! For some you begin to use them right away, others may take a while of exposure for you to start absentmindedly saying them. 

The first time you used a german, non-filler word was in a fit of panic.

You had been practising some stuff on some subjects that Medic had allowed you to borrow. Of course you were interested in experimenting with bodies and animals, even people, sometimes! -You got with Medic, this is to be expected. - He knows he’s taught you enough for you to be safe to do this type of stuff on your own, and he allows you to use the medbay whenever. 

He had walked in to tell you to come take a break to have something to eat, when you accidentally cut your hand with a scalpel. Without a second thought, you quickly let out a hushed “Scheiße!” before turning around to take care of the wound, spotting Medic. He didn’t have time to question you about it, since taking care of you was the only thing on this mind at the time.

Sniper:

The first time it happened was when Scout had asked you to hang out. He apparently wanted to show you something cool, but you were busy making yourself a snack. Mundy had just walked into the kitchen when he heard your reply; 

“Cheers! I’ll be free in a bit!” 

Scout didn’t seem to notice anything. Or if he did, he didn’t mention it. He just started rambling on about whatever cool thing he was about to show you. Sniper didn’t want to bother you when you seemed genuinely interested in Scout’s mostly one-sided conversation, but if you had looked over at him, you would have been able to spot a slight raise of his brow and the tiniest hint of a smirk.

The second time was when Demo had accidentally spilled some of his scrumpy on you. He was extremely apologetic, but you kept reassuring him that it was alright.

“No wuckas, Demo! I’ll just go change real quick.”

Yet again, you walked off before he could question you.

The third time got him backstabbed. 

Though he’d never admit it, he often sometimes watched you through his scope, wanting to keep his S/O safe. This time, you just so happened to be semi-facing him, when you ran into a sticky bomb. You had noticed it a moment too late, so you weren’t able to dodge it. You only had enough time to mutter a quick “...Piss.” before being sent to respawn. Sniper was able to read your lips, and he couldn’t help but snort and let out a chuckle, not allowing himself to listen to his surroundings.

Finally, you did it when it was just you and him in his camper van. The two of you were bored and looking for something to do, when you had spotted something behind Mundy. You gestured towards it;

“Hey, wanna pass the deck of cards, mate?”

He froze for a moment, then he allowed his smirk to grow. You sat in silence, wondering what was so funny. He noticed the look of confusion on your face.

“Mate… really? You’re not doin’ that t’make fun of me, are ya?”

Your brows only furrowed further together, “What, what’d I do?” 

He never called you ‘mate’ anymore, not after the two of you got together. Usually, he called you ‘Roo’ or ‘Love’.

“You called me ‘Mate.’”

“I-” You look at him in disbelief, finally making proper sense of his previous sentence. Then a smile began to slowly grow across your face, “no.. did I really?”

“Yeah, you’ve been playin’ parrot for a while, now,”

You shake your head and cover your face in embarrassment as you lean into his side. You hadn’t even noticed!

“S’alright, Roo. ’S pretty funny,” he snuggled a little closer, only to give you a small peck on the temple, “n’ cute, too.”

Spy:

One thing for certain was that he very rarely used your actual name. It was always pet names and names of endearment- always french ones. 

‘Mon amour, mon coeur, ma/mon chèr(e)’, etc. And since you hung around him so much, it wasn’t rare to hear him use french swears and insults dropped in conversation every so often when talking about past battles and such. Once, he had accidentally spilled his glass of wine, and he uttered “Merde..” under his breath. The same thing happened when a burnt piece of his cigarette had fallen onto his suit, though this time he had said it a bit louder. He’d called people ‘con’ or ‘connard’, ‘crétain, putain,’ and many more. One that was a little more common around the others was ‘ta geule’, or ‘ferme ta geule.’ You eventually learnt that it meant something along the lines of “Shut up”. 

One day, when you were extremely frustrated with an overly obnoxious opponent who really enjoyed taunting you, you muttered:

“Ferme ta geule, connard!”

As the opponent fully came to face you, trying to make sense of the words you had let out, they got backstabbed. 

You were simply a distraction. 

Though, that didn’t stop the way Spy’s cigarette fell from his lips as he finally thought twice about what you had said moments prior.

“Mon amour, it’s best you don’t start using those words too often.”

July.27.23

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Congratulations on your milestone!

If it’s not too late, I’d like to request Spencer/Reader post prison with this lyric.

“You’re the cure, and your eyes have dug me out of my grave more times than I could ever count. You’ve always been the one to breathe me back to life - The Cure by The Movielife

Thank you.

Oh how I love post prison angst! And this was the perfect song for, thank you darling!

You’re the Cure

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary - you’ve always been the ray of light in Spencer Reid’s often dark life. But in the wake of his incarceration, can you be his cure?

CW - past drug addiction, past parental abandonment, mentions of Maeve arc, prison arc, emotionally distant Spencer, break ups, bad mental health, mentions of not eating and bathing, an almost relapse, heavy drinking, maybe one swear, tears, hopeful ending.

WC - 4.4k

Spencer Reid had never seen himself as someone who needed saving. Being forced to grow up at ten years old when his father abandoned him and his sick mother, had a way of instilling in him that when things went wrong, he could only rely on himself. 

His drug addiction only went to further perpetuate the notion that he was on his own. Even when his brain was muddled by the dilaudid he knew his team was aware of what was going on and not a single one of them ever said anything. 

So Spencer got used to fending for himself, keeping his emotional issues internalised. He loved his friends but he learnt not to count on them. As such he made a habit of keeping his cards close to his chest, never letting anyone in fully. 

Spencer Reid could only truly depend on one person and that was Spencer Reid. 

But then he met you. 

You admittedly joined the BAU at the worst possible time. Spencer was off work while he dealt with the grief of losing Maeve and he heard all about you through stories from Garcia and JJ. Both women described you as a bouncy, happy-go-lucky, ray of human sunshine. And to be perfectly honest, that filled Spencer with dread. 

It was one of the darker moments of his life and the idea of someone coming in and trying to force their light onto him was the last thing he needed. Spencer liked to deal with his trauma by wallowing in it on his own, he didn’t need other’s trying to cheer him up, to drag him out of the shadows. He wasn’t looking for someone to try and make it better, to take his pain away. 

And then you showed up and you breathed him back to life without even realising you were doing so.

From the moment he met you he had instinctively gravitated towards you, like you were magnets of opposing poles who were inherently drawn to one another. But his wounds caused by Maeve’s death were still so raw that he wasn’t in a position to open his heart up again. 

So the two of you fell into a wonderful friendship, probably the best one Spencer had ever had in his life. You were the light to his dark, the sunshine on his cloudy day. You were the first sip of coffee in the morning, the crisp pages of a new book. You were his favourite song. 

You were his cure. 

The whole team joked about the two of you, often referring to you as work husband and wife. Truthfully what you had was essentially a romantic relationship minus the intimacy. And at some point Spencer found the scars start to heal and his heart began to open up again without his realising. 

Almost two years after you joined the team, when Spencer kissed you for the first time, it was like the most natural thing in the world. 

You’d been leaving work together one night and you offered him a ride home like always but somedays Spencer enjoyed taking the metro to clear his head after particularly long days. 

He walked you to your car nonetheless and as you were saying goodbye he leant in and kissed the corner of your mouth as though it was something he did all the time. And then he kissed you again, this time directly on the lips and the strangest part of it was how it didn’t feel strange at all.

You never talked about what it meant but you didn’t need to. The next time the two of you went to the movies he slid his hands in yours as you walked towards the theatre. He spent the night with his arm protectively around your shoulders while you snuggled against him. 

And outside of your door after he walked you home, he kissed you again, this time much more passionately. You’d subsequently invited him in and the two of you finally took your relationship to a whole new level. 

You never defined your relationship per se. Somewhere over time Spencer started referring to you as his girlfriend and it was just so simple. 

Your relationship had grown and blossomed as though it was the easiest thing in the world, like you’d always meant to be together. Up until he’d met you, Spencer’s life had been full of complications but you were the least complicated thing in the world. 

You were the full stop to the end of all his paragraphs, you banished all the darkness from his life. You were the cure for everything that ailed him. 

But then he was arrested. 

Being locked in a cage for two and half months for a crime he didn’t commit brought all those demons out of the shadows that you had chased away with your light. He was sure even your sunny aura couldn’t bring him back from this. 

And after his release, he started shutting down. 

It started in small ways, ones in which you didn’t even really notice at first. Conversations became more one sided, his casual touches were few and far between. Then he started leaving for work earlier and earlier and you started getting used to waking up alone in an empty bed. 

During his stints of mandatory leave from the BAU you barely saw him and you knew that was by design. It became apparent that he was avoiding you, pushing you away along with the rest of the team. 

But you weren't the rest of the team. You were his partner, you shared a home together; a life together. You were once able to pull him out of any hell he was going through without even really trying. But this time he seemed so lost you worried he’d never find his way back to you. 

Even when he was home, mentally he was elsewhere. Perhaps he was still stuck inside a prison cell at Milburn, or maybe he was trapped in a perpetual nightmare that revolved around Cat Adams. 

You tried to comfort him, to offer him a reprieve from his dark thoughts but after so many attempts you gave up trying. There was only so much you could do and to be perfectly honest, you didn’t think there was any way of freeing him from the clutches of his monsters. 

Seven months after his release from prison, the two of you called time on your relationship. 

You moved out of his apartment and in with Penelope as a temporary measure while you found your own place. You took an indefinite leave of absence from the BAU while you worked on piecing your life back together. 

You didn’t see or speak to Spencer for several months that followed the break up. You made Penelope promise you not to tell you anything pertaining to him, it wasn’t your job to worry about him anymore. And even thought it killed her to do so, Penelope agreed to do this one thing for you. 

Spencer had allowed himself to get swallowed up in the darkness and this time even your magnificent light wasn’t enough to cure him.

***

Three months after the break up you still felt just as fragile as you did the day you moved out of his apartment. Your heart had taken a beating, it was bruised and battered and it would take a long time for it to heal, you knew that. But after three months you thought you might have made some progress. Instead you were still stuck at square one.

You’d moved out of Penelope’s last month into a tiny little studio apartment not far from Dupont Circle. You hated it if you were honest, but it was better than continuing to put Garcia out by sleeping on her couch. 

You hadn't been back to the BAU since the break up and had recently started looking for other jobs. You’d interview at the DC Field Office and were hopeful to get an offer, but it would be bitter sweet. You loved the BAU, you didn’t want to leave, but you knew you couldn’t work with Spencer again. Not with the way your heart shattered everytime you simply thought his name. 

You were trying to move on, it was all you could do. But what you didn’t realise was Spencer living in a whole new level of hell. 

***

The final nail in Spencer Reid’s coffin was when you moved out of the apartment. And what made it a harder pill to swallow was the fact it was his own fault you’d done so. 

He’d thought he’d been protecting you by bottling up his emotions and not dragging you down into the pit created by his time in prison. He thought if he didn’t talk about it, it would go away. This was one thing you couldn’t shield him from, one thing he needed to work through on his own the way he’d grown so accustomed to doing before he met you. 

But he’d pushed you too far, right out the door. And from there his life simply spiralled out of control. 

He left the BAU, just up and quit one day without any warning. He knew it was terrible timing with you taking a leave of absence but he couldn’t stop himself. He woke up one day and decided he’d had enough. 

For the months that followed he didn’t leave his apartment much at all. He wasn’t eating properly, wasn’t showering as frequently as he should and barely sleeping more than a couple of fretful hours a night. 

To be alone with himself like this for eternity would be agony. Without you there to breathe him back to life his appetite for living died. 

On one of his rare trips outside of the four walls of his tiringly lonely apartment, he brought a vial of dilaudid. He kept it in the middle of his coffee table for weeks, unopened, just as a reminder that he could take it if he wanted to. 

But thankfully it never did come to that. Instead of getting high, a particular rabbit hole he may never find his way out of, he drank. 

In actuality, it wasn’t much better and he knew that. Just because he’d never had a dependency to alcohol before didn’t mean he couldn’t develop one, clearly he was susceptible to addiction. But drinking was the only thing that helped numb the pain, aided in distancing himself from his tormented thoughts. 

Without you the demons were able to sneak closer and he lived with them among the shadows. You were always the one to shoulder the brunt of his misery but now he had to face it alone because he’d pushed you away. The lightness in your heart that he had always envied was gone, casting him forever into blackness.

He needed you here, the cure when his thoughts turned to cyanide, when he was going out of his fucking mind. 

He’d been drunk for more days straight than he could count and with each passing day the dilaudid grew more tempting. He moved it from the coffee table more often, rolling the vial around his hand, tapping his nails against it; contemplating the sweet release that would come with just one hit. 

But it never would be just one hit. 

The things he’d seen and done in prison haunted his every waking breath and seeped over into the small window of sleep he managed. He was never going to be the same after that experience, it had hardened him in a way he never realised possible. 

It had created a shell around his heart, a solid armour snugly encasing the organ in order to protect himself from his own emotions. But ultimately it hadn’t just been himself his emotions had been locked away from. 

In the seven months you stayed by his side after his release he hadn’t once been able to tell you he loved you. It only occurred to him after you walked away that he hadn’t said that to you since the morning he’d left for Mexico. 

In seven months the most physical contact the two of you had was a few occasions when you’d dared to place a kiss on his cheek. You hadn’t kissed properly, hadn’t been intimate, hadn’t even so much as held hands since before he made the decision to go to Mexico. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t think about it. There were multiple times he’d almost initiated something, almost drawn you into his body when you were laying in bed side by side yet miles apart. But he always stopped himself.

The sad fact of the matter was: Spencer didn’t trust himself to be with you anymore. But in order to survive in prison he’d had to become someone he didn’t recognise and it wasn’t so easy for him to shed that new persona. And as if to really drive that point home, when he’d had Cat pinned against the wall with his hand around her throat, he knew he would never trust himself with you again. 

The darkness was inside of him now, leaching into every pore. If he was the kind of man who could have killed Cat, or Scratch, and slept well afterwards, who’s to say where he would draw that line? 

As much as he missed you with every strangled beat of his shattered heart, keeping you away from him kept you safe. And he only ever wanted you to be safe. 

But without you, he may well meet his demise at the bottom of a bottle, or the bottom of a vial.

You were the cure. Your eyes have dug him out of his grave more times than he could ever count. You’ve always been the one to breathe him back to life. 

And so maybe it was inevitable that he called you, perhaps it was a feat in itself that he’d managed months on his own. But when he found himself on his bathroom floor, half a bottle of whiskey clouding his brain and a needle full of dilaudid in his hand, the only thing that was going to stop his relapse was you.

He didn’t expect you to answer but he prayed you would. And maybe someone was looking out for him, maybe there was some kind of higher power smiling down on him because you answered after three rings. 

“Spencer…” your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke his name. Just those two simple syllables from your lips wrapped him in a blanket of your warmth. 

“H-hi Y/N.” His own was hoarse, run down. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken out loud and it showed. 

Tears rolled down his cheeks, heavy and thick as the hand holding the needle trembled. 

“Did you…did you want something?” Your voice held the weight of the pain he’d cause you and made even more tears fall. 

“Uh…” he stared at the needle, brushing his thumb along the plastic tube. This was so unfair of him. He couldn’t do this to you, drag you back into his mess like this. He knew if he asked you would come running in a heartbeat. But it wasn’t fair of him to ask. “It’s nothing. Forget I called.” 

“Are you sure?” Your tone was riddled in concern. 

“Y-yeah. Sure. V-very sure.” He stuttered, choking a little on his own tears. 

Before you could reply he hung up the phone before he could change his mind and beg you to come and save him from himself. He tossed the device aside and focused on the needle. He leant back against the bathroom wall, pulling his knees up to meet his chest. 

The cool tile on his bare feet was a nice repreve, but the dilaudid would be better. 

His shirt sleeve was already pushed up to his elbow, the tie was already secured around his bicep. The needle was full, all he had to do was press it into his waiting vein and all of his problems would melt away. 

But this was one grave he may never be able to dig himself out of. Once he relapsed there would be no going back, no getting sober this time. But his sobriety didn’t mean as much to him as it once had, and perhaps it was worth succumbing to his demons for a chance at peace.

***

Despite how hard he tried to sound like himself, it was easy for you to see through Spencer’s thinly veiled lie. And as much as you didn’t want to involve yourself anymore, you couldn’t help yourself. 

Taking care of Spencer Reid came as naturally to you as breathing. You didn’t intend on doing it, and most of the time he didn’t need looking after. But you did it anyway in small, every day ways. 

You did it in the way you made him coffee every morning before work. You did it in the way you ran your fingers through his hair after a stressful day. You did it in the way you grasped his hand when he needed something to ground him, when you offered him a soft smile of encouragement when he needed it. 

He’d always called you his cure, as though you were the antidote to all the horrors in the world. He’d told you that your smile was the sweetest medicine, that your mere presence in his life was therapeutic. 

So if there was any way you could help him, even after he’d pushed you away and caused you to leave, you would find it and you would do it. Which was why after he hung up on you, you were quickly jumping in your car and driving across town to the apartment you used to reside in. 

The door wasn’t just unlocked but it was open a crack. Immediately your heart started to race and you were so glad you hadn’t officially quit the BAU yet and you were still in possession of your firearm. 

Your hand shook as you pulled the weapon from your holster, nudging the door further open with your shoulder. You made quick work of taking in the room. It looked to be ransacked, like someone had broken in and turned the place upside down in search of something. 

You held your breath as you silently started across the room, manoeuvring in and out of piles of debris left behind in someone's wake. You headed towards the closed bedroom door, gun pointing right ahead of you. You focused your hearing but thus far couldn’t make out any distinctive sounds. 

Pushing open the door, you found the bedroom in much the same state as the living room. You tried not to allow yourself to get sentimental as your eyes swept across the unmade bed and you thought back to late nights and early mornings snug beneath those sheets with Spencer. The bed that was so big but you’d never know it as he always kept you as close as humanly possible. 

The bathroom door, like the front door, was open a crack and a light pooled from inside. It was then you heard the sound of haggard breathing punctuated by loud sniffing, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to well and truly stand to attention. 

As you listened to the unmistakable sounds of a grown man sobbing, you lowered your gun and tucked it back in your holster. 

A deeply disturbed and troubled man had ravaged this apartment but it was not the work of some petty criminal. Spencer had turned his home into a reflection of his own tortured mind, you had no doubt. 

You were somehow more tentative after you knew someone hadn’t broken in. You had never seen Spencer cry before, he always liked to put up a tough exterior, probably something to do with him being the baby of the BAU for so many years. 

You’d seen him vulnerable, probably more than he’d ever let anyone else see him, but you’d never witnessed him with his walls stripped away completely. And honestly, the thought of it scared you a little. 

But no matter how scared you were, despite how much he had hurt you, you pressed on. 

You inched open the bathroom not wanting to startle him and found him on the floor, hugging his legs to his chest and sobbing into his knees. But the truly terrifying part was the vial and needle discarded at his side. A silk tie was fashioned into a tourniquet around his arm.

“S-Spencer?” You gasped, covering your gaping mouth with your hands. 

He stiffened and slowly lifted his head from where it had been buried in the fabric of his slacks. His eyes were red rimmed and tears silently streamed down his cheeks. His hair drooped lifelessly onto his forehead and his face clearly hadn’t seen a razor in months. 

He somehow looked even worse than when you visited him in prison. 

“Why are you here?” His voice cracked and his words were slightly slurred. 

“You didn’t sound like yourself on the phone. I needed to see you with my own eyes.” You heard the sadness in your own tone, unable to hide it. 

“I’m not myself.” He exhaled a breath that sounded like he had been holding it in for years. “I haven’t been since prison.” 

You swallowed, daring to take a few steps further into the bathroom. Spencer let his legs fall and stretch out in front of him on the linoleum and you slid down to sit next to him, the only thing separating you was the drug paraphernalia. As if reading your mind he exhaled again before he spoke.

“I didn’t take it.” He wouldn’t look at you, instead he looked down at his hands. “I wanted to, but I didn’t.” 

“Why are you slurring then?” You watched the side of his face. He clenched and unclenched his jaw several times. 

“Whiskey. Not dilaudid. I swear.” 

“I’ve never known you to drink.” Of course it was a relief that he hadn’t taken the drugs, but hearing that he was drunk wasn’t a whole lot better. 

“I hadn’t had a drink in nearly ten years. I gave it up around the same time as I quit dilaudid, I guess I worried it would become one vice replacing another. But I needed something. And alcohol was the lesser of two evils.” He was still slurring but he was surprisingly coherent. 

It didn’t surprise you in the least that Spencer could still string a logical sentence together when he was inebriated. 

“Why did you call me, Spencer? Of all the people you could have called, why me?” You whispered as though you weren’t entirely sure you really wanted an answer to that. 

He finally looked at you, glancing to his side with his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip in contemplation for a moment or two as though formulating a carefully curated answer. But really, the answer was incredibly simple. 

“Because you’re my cure.” He shrugged, his tears had dried up but the stains on his cheeks remained. “And right now I am in desperate need of remedy.” 

“Spencer…” You sighed, your own eyes misting over with tears. “I was always here for you, you could have talked to me about anything but instead you shoved me aside and tried to deal with things on your own.”

“I’ve never been very good at asking for help. I’ve only ever been able to rely on myself. People leave. People aren’t reliable. But you…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “You brought the kind of sunshine into my life I could only dream of. You have saved me in more ways than you will ever know. Your mere existence in my life has been more help to me than I can explain to you. That’s why I call you my cure, because it's the best way I can think to describe what you are to me.” 

“I knew you would be different after prison, Spencer. No decent man can go through an experience like that and come out unchanged. But in your bones you are still the Spencer Reid I fell in love with.” You tried to tell him much like you had countless times in those torrid seven months. You hoped this time he might actually hear it. 

“I’m really not sure that I am, Y/N.” He raked his fingers through his tangled hair with a meek shake of his head. 

“I am.” You nodded. “I’m sure. Spencer, whatever you had to do inside was for your own protection. It was every man for himself and you did what you did to survive. And Cat…? After everything she’s done to you, I wanted to strangle the bitch too.” 

Spencer’s eyes widened, looking a little like deer caught in headlights. He was gnawing on his bottom lip haphazardly as he stared at you. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, Spencer.” 

“Do you really think I can come back from this?” 

“Yes, Spencer.” You repeated, defiance in your voice. “And I’m going to help you. Whether you want me to or not. Because my love for you is stronger than the pain you caused me. I will be by your side, showering you in light until there is not even a sliver of a shadow for your demons to hide in. Let me be your cure, Spence.” 

You reached out your hands towards him, palm upwards and fingers spread to create enough space for his own to slot between them. He glanced between your face and your hand a few times before his lip quipped up ever so slightly at the corner in a small smile. 

And then he reached for you, his fingers finding those spaces between your own that always seemed like they were made intentionally to fit his. It was as though someone had crafted you both perfectly for each other. 

Spencer had never been a believer in higher powers but it was the only reason he could fathom for how you had found him. 

In a world consisting of nearly eight billion people, what were the chances of the two of you meeting? What were the odds of two perfectly imperfect people finding each other and slotting together in such an inconceivably faultless way? 

As you sat there hand in hand, Spencer knew he would do anything to keep you by his side for as long as he lived. Even if it meant allowing you to see all his flaws, all his cracks. Because he was certain now you would love every one of his broken pieces. 

You were the light casting away his shadows. You were the air being breathed into his lungs. You were the thread holding him together. 

You were the cure.