#this may help recovering alcoholics too so :)

[grandline-fics]

Terms of Endearment

DESCRIPTION:  You call them by a term of endearment without realising 

WARNINGS: just fluff, mentions of alcohol in Luffy's

CHARACTERS: Ace, Sabo, Luffy | Law, Kid, Shanks, Marco, Zoro

WORDS: 1,933

A/N: The next part in this in honour of reaching 500 followers. Hope you all enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

ACE

You knew nothing would ever happen between you and the Division Commander. You knew he was just a likeable guy who was friendly and warm with everyone. Countless times you told yourself that he was just nice with everyone and yet still you couldn’t help but feel your heart beat just a little faster when he smiled at you and you couldn’t stop yourself from liking him a little more each time he spoke with you and spent time with you outside of chores and tasks being done onboard the ship. It didn’t matter though, even with the knowledge nothing romantic would happen you were happy to be considered a close friend of Ace’s.

One morning you were perched on the edge of the ship’s railing and keeping a critical eye on the thick wall of cloud draped over the entirety of the sky above the next island you were approaching. It made a stark difference to the clear blue you and the rest of the crew were currently under. You were no stranger to the absurdity of the ever changing weather and separate climates certain islands had but seeing what you were going to be greeted with was starting to sour your mood. It wasn’t as fun stopping at an island if there was a storm to endure.

“Glaring at the clouds won’t make them change you know.” You looked over your shoulder to see Ace hop up onto the railing and sit down beside you. Glancing out of the corner of your eye you were jealous of how relaxed he was and let out a long sigh as you returned your stare to the clouds you could now see were darker than you had originally thought. 

“Who knows, stranger things have happened on these seas.” You mused, scowling harder now that the idea was in your head. “Maybe I have the ability to control weather and neither of us knew it? Don’t know unless I try.”

From beside you Ace laughed, reclining back to support his body on his elbows and grinned up at you. 

“If that were possible, that’d be a pretty dumb gift. Glaring at clouds to make them obey you? You’d get a headache all day.” You rolled your eyes and laughed, getting more comfortable too, lying down and tucking your arms behind your head. 

“Look we can’t all be super amazing and control fire like some people, Ace.” You teased, a small yawn breaking from your lips as your eyes closed. You were still a ways away from the stormy island so you may as well make the most of the sunshine and warmth until then. “Some of us are just boring.”

“I definitely wouldn’t call you boring.” Ace told you. Safely in the knowledge that you couldn’t see him, he could observe you carefully with softened gaze. “You’re one of my favourite people to hang out with.” 

“Aw thank you love, you always know just what to say.” Your relaxed smile brightened considerably but you were too drowsy to open your eyes again to look at the man beside you. It was also why you hadn’t realised your slip of the tongue. Ace however tensed and sat up a little straighter from his once relaxed position. His eyes were widened and a soft pink was dusting his freckled skin. All this time he’d thought his feelings were one-sided and now he was hit with the reality that it might not be the case. Overcome with a burst of excitement and hope he quickly lay back down and used his hat to hide his giddy expression and began to think about how to subtly broach the subject when you were awake.

SABO

“You’re not going to improve if you don’t keep your focus.” Hack lectured, swiftly knocking Sabo back with ease. Sabo managed to recover from the attack and retaliated with one of his own that was completely dodged to the point it made the attack look so pitiful. Hack paused in the sparring match to frown at the younger Revolutionary. “Seriously, what’s with you today? Do you need to take a break?” Quickly Sabo shook his head and forced himself to keep his attention on Hack but even then he couldn’t help but feel your presence silently calling to him. 

You were oblivious to the power you had over the Chief of Staff, even from the very first day you joined the Revolutionary Army you’d somehow managed to make Sabo immediately endeared to you. Given Sabo’s personality he was able to pass off his momentary slips and lack of concentration when you were around and for the most part others hadn’t made the connection. Most being the word. People like Hack, Koala, and Dragon however knew. Normally Hack wouldn’t mind and ignore it but this was the third time in the short amount of time of the sparring match that he’d seen Sabo zone out and look your way as you were speaking with Dragon about a recent mission you’d been on. Enough was enough. After knocking Sabo onto his back, Hack turned and called you over. You finished your conversation with Dragon and approached the sparring pair with a soft, expectant smile while Sabo got to his feet. “I want you to spar Sabo with me. Perhaps having two opponents will help sharpen his dulled senses.” 

You became concerned to hear Hack’s less than complimentary tone at the blond and you looked to Sabo with a light frown, scrutinising his features carefully. Could it be he was sick? Was something else be bothering him? It wasn't like the Chief of Staff to be so distracted especially when it came to his training. At the suggestion of you fighting along with Hack, Sabo’s expression became a mix of uncertainty and irritation. He didn’t want to spar against you but he couldn’t outright deny Hack requesting you join them given he had no real reason to oppose it. Sabo could only take a breath and adjust his stance while praying he didn’t make an embarrassment of himself.

At first having you as part of the fight helped Sabo when it came to focusing on the fight, by having two skilled fighters attacking he didn’t have the ability to pay attention to his personal feelings. However when he kept his sight on Hack as the priority he’d slipped up and forgotten you. You took the window of opportunity and ducked under Sabo’s arm, your face less than inch from his. Quickly you hooked her arm around his and tucked your foot around his ankle, twisting and knocking him to the ground. You kept a firm hold on Sabo’s wrist and pressed your knee into his back. “Give up sweetie?” you asked innocently, unable to see Sabo’s eyes widen. Before he could respond you were abruptly called for by another Revolutionary to go out on a mission. Pouting you released Sabo and left him and Hack. 

“Please tell me I didn’t imagine that…” Sabo uttered, almost begging Hack. He looked up to see the Fishman grin at him and help him to his feet. 

“No I heard it too. Funny thing is I don’t think they noticed they did it.” Sabo watched your retreating form and brightly smiled. 

“Interesting.”

LUFFY

For the most part Luffy can be considered fairly clueless about a lot of things if they don’t involve his ambition to be King of the Pirates and obtaining the One Piece, doing whatever he wanted and eating all he wished. That included his own deeper feelings at times. However no matter how complex Luffy’s emotions were about certain things he found it easier to break them down into more simplistic views and gain a better understanding about them. He found he had to do that with you and the longer you were part of his crew the more he had to take an inward look at his feelings. So far he was able to discern that he liked you, he liked being around you and it was mutual because you’d been all too eager to join his crew. For the longest time it was simple as that. 

Things however became complicated one night after he and the rest of the crew helped free another town from a corrupt ruler. As always the celebration was a large affair with plenty of food, music and drink. While Luffy wasn’t a drinker and happily indulged in all the food he could get his hands on, you were pulled into a drinking contest with some of the locals along with Nami, Zoro, Franky, and Usopp. You’d managed to hold your own for a respectable amount but when you felt the world being to tilt and your mind grow hazy you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle anymore. 

Staggering from the table you somehow managed to wander to the only spot you knew you’d feel completely safe and content with. You didn’t know how you managed it, call it instinct or sheer will but you stopped beside your Captain and slid down to sit on the soft grass beside him, leaning against his back for support. Luffy looked over his shoulder to grin at you before continuing to eat. “You lost huh?” he laughed before taking a large bite of a meat skewer.

“It’s cheating when Zoro plays.” You grumbled, shifting to get more comfortable against your Captain. “He’s so smug too. Didn’t even wanna win anyway.” You fell into soft laughter with Luffy and then drifted into content silence. Subconsciously Luffy moved while he ate, seamlessly turning so you were leaning against his side and neither of you seemed to even notice the new position.

When morning came and you woke with a hangover and lack of memory you let out a worried groan, hoping that whatever you’d done wasn’t too embarrassing or at the very least you hoped that everyone else was also too drunk to remember too. Wincing you pushed yourself up to see that you were in your own bed. Hazily you tried to force your brain to work and managed to pull out the image of Luffy which made sense, he was your go-to for anything. Knowing he didn’t drink, you knew you could also rely on him for the truth on what you failed to remember. You found Luffy sitting on Sunny’s head just as you knew he’d be but you became worried to see him frowning, deep in thought. “Everything okay Luffy?” you asked, flinching when Luffy’s head swiftly snapped around to look at you intently. 

“No! You’re not allowed to call me that.” Immediately worry and guilt took hold. What had you done? Would he ever forgive you? Oh no, what if it was so bad he’d kick you off of the ship for good. 

“Wh-what do you mean?“ You asked panicked and feeling sick which was not from the hangover. “Whatever I’ve done I’m sorry but I don’t remember. Please tell me what I did wrong. I can fix it.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Luffy’s expression became confused. “I’ve just decided that you can’t call me Luffy anymore I like what you called me last night after I helped you to bed better.” 

“Oh…” you couldn’t tell what you were feeling in that moment exactly. Desperately you tried to think what you called him, silently thankful that whatever it was hadn’t offended him. “Well if you want me to call you that instead you have to remind me.”

“You called me dear.” Luffy grinned while your face reddened.

[gloriaris]

making virgin cocktails!

my older brother is an adult and now that he can legally drink, he's expanding into cocktail making. i am underage in my country and have taken a vow with myself to never drink or do substances, *ever*. so as he's been making cocktails for my family and I am the only one choosing not to drink (not even a sip. though my little brother is underage, he likes to try drinks), we've been looking into virgin drinks. here are my favorites:

- Shirley Temple, a classic.

- Shirley Temple, but with Pepsi/Coke/Dr Pepper instead of sprite. This one is my favorite.

- Troll slobber. This one is from his DnD cocktail book, and is fairly easy to make virgin; it's just Sprite/7Up or a generic alternative and a couple scoops of rainbow sherbet. It's super delicious, somehow.

Non-cocktails, but cool beverages:

- Mint-chocolate milk. Make a chocolate milk with your preferred method and add a couple drops of peppermint extract. If it looks boring, you can add some food coloring. This one originated as a virgin alternative to a drink with mint lacquer, but it was found that extract was much more flavorful and so this isn't really a cocktail.

- Fizzy lemonade. It's exactly as it sounds. Simply make your favorite lemonade recipe, but substitute water for club soda.

To make your drink look fancy:

- Dip the edge in colored sugar. Add sugar to a small plate and moisten your finger. Drag your wet finger against the edge of your glass until it's moist, then tip onto sugared plate. Wiggle until no more sugar sticks.

- Garnishes. Of course, you have your basics; cherries, mint leaves, and lemons; but get as creative as you want! Do you want colored ice, or a pickle, or a scoop of canned fruit? My brothers both made drinks today with whole slices of pineapple as a garnish.

i hope this helped! making fake drinks helps me feel closer to my family if they're drinking, and they're also so, so fucking delicious.

[tiamathh]

Your life in a parallel universe?

Note: Hi! Tysm for the person who left this idea in the suggestions form <3 if anyone wants you can send ideas here: FORM as well! Take care and Like and Rb if you enjoy!

♡ Masterlist ♡

Pile 1

Hi Pile 1! Your life in a parallel universe is filled with learning, you may be an academician or a "guru" of sorts. You may live in seclusion, preferring your own space and having a lot of books especially on the occult, you could also be very committed to spreading knowledge and could have apprentices. Your job may be related to spirituality and magik as well, where you could help people out through rituals and communication with deities. You may have to face a lot of obstacles and could also face troubles with fatigue, especially recovering from spiritual fatigue that can manifest physically. You may not have a lot of luxury or money, but you will be content, satisfied and happy with your life, you will also be extremely knowledgeable.

There will be A LOT of good people in your life, ones on the same wavelength as you who you can rely on, and a lot of romance too. You may have like a lifelong partner, like the first person you date turns into the person you spend the rest of your life with. You could have a fear of travel and prefer staying where you are, you could live on the outskirts of some town or the countryside, somewhere with a lot of nature where you can essentially grow your own food and stuff, all natural here, living with what the earth gives you, does not mean you will like abandon society or technology or anything you will just like living from the earth and in nature. Talking about your love life because it seems very prominent here, you and your partner will be similar in so many ways and have businesses together, probably online like tarot, reiki, etc and your partner will be extremely optimistic and strong and charming!

Song: That old feeling - Chet Baker

Pile 2

Hello Pile 2~ In a parallel universe, you are probably at the top of the career ladder and living a life of luxury and fame. Not only do you have anything you could ask for materially, you also hold a lot of power over people, which could sometimes make you a little bit arrogant. In general, you will be a social butterfly and almost like a socialite where you run in circles with famous wealthy people as well. You may have gotten the success through a startup or idea you came up with on your own during a time of feeling lost and directionless, a true rags-to-riches type story. Your belief, originality and slight recklessness with your leaps of faith that brought you there. In a parallel universe, you are impatient and impulsive, but your intellect and charge pulls you out of any mess you may find yourself in. You are a spendthrift and want nothing but the best from life because you can afford it and will be very worldly, travelling whenever you can.

You may retire early and let someone else deal with the workload while you can spend your time seeing the world, experiencing new cultures and new food, especially. Moreover, you may have a lot of friends who you can have fun with, but they could also be overly ambitious, the kind of people who will look for others weaknesses to exploit them, leading to you having to be cautious around them. You may have a lot of flings and romantic rendezvous' but you may feel a lack of connection when it comes to having long term romantic partners. You are also very courageous with the decisions you make, and could love extreme sports like paragliding and bungee jumping and stuff. Lastly you may not have the best relations with your family because you could have cut or minimised contact with them in this universe.

Song: The Leaders - ATEEZ

Pile 3

Hey Pile 3 my star pile (literally)! In a parallel universe you are definitely in the public eye, probably as an artist or performer. You may have a lot of fame and reputation and live a life of thrill, there could be drugs and alcohol involved as well, and you may feel like you have to depend on them to be able to fully unleash your potential as an artist. You are rich but also charitable, I'm getting for some of you guys it's because your PR manager wants you photographed while doing charity to improve your reputation with fans and potential collaborators. Although you will feel fulfilled because you can share your art with the world, you won't feel satisfied because you may feel stuck having to cater to an audience or the people around you and could often feel lonely and left out from the bigger picture, feeling like if you make any changes to your art or style, or start experimenting, people will abandon you, and you will have a fall from grace leading to a downhill spiral.

Parallel universe you is stressed and anxious about their future even though they are good at saving and may be good at investing as well, however they don't get to spend enough time with their friends and family which may lead to feelings of unhappiness. You are also very emotionally mature and connected with how you feel I just keep seeing water flowing, in a parallel universe you go with the flow, even if you are anxious and stressed you will just let it be and ignore it with a staunch belief that at the end of the day things will be okay. You may have an older feminine energy in your life to help you through everything, this may be like an older sister figure and could be with you through thick and thin. Your romantic life could be lacking because you may not feel confident enough in your ability to be committed to someone.

Song: Need you Now - Lady A

[fllagellant]

Do You Know What Dry Socket Is?

Informational post about something a lot of people might be unaware of.

So, let’s say you loose a tooth. You fell and knock it out, maybe you pulled it at home for whatever reason. All that is important in this scenario is that you’ve lost a tooth outside of a dentist visit, so there is no field professional there to walk you through the healing process.

Now, how do you recover from this? Saltwater rinse, wad of cotton to help slow the bleeding, painkillers, eating soft foods. It stands to reason that, like any other recovery period that involves the mouth and teeth, you’d also need a straw. Makes sense, easier to get liquid into your mouth and you’ll have more control over where in your mouth it goes. Makes sense, right?

You are about to give yourself dry socket.

The main difference between most other well known recovery periods from a jaw / mouth injury, is that the act of sucking on a straw can dislodge the blood clot from your gums.

The reason is, for a few days, your blood clot is actually smaller than the hole left behind by the missing tooth. Gums do heal quicker than most other tissue on your body , so the opening will close to be smaller than the blood clot itself. But there is a period of time, the first few days of healing, that the blood clot is at a serious risk of coming loose or being dissolved away . This risk does not truly go away until healing is over , but the likelyhood slowly goes down.

This blood clot being removed will reveal the traumatized and damaged nerve + the jaw bone to the open . Unsurprisingly, this is extraordinary pain, that nothing can soothe. Any fluid gets into the wound ? Food particles ? You inhale / exhale too hard ? That nerve is going to Ache. Not to mention , you’ re at an even higher infection risk now .

And the things that can cause dry socket are so innocuous , that unless you know about the possibility , you may do these actions without thinking.

1) Straws ( and Sucking )

The pressure from drinking through a straw is enough to pull the blood clot from your gums . This pressure can be caused by anything that requires sucking , this includes smoking as well . Anything that requires a strong pull into your mouth to eat / ingest is exerting the same pull on your loose blood clot . If you suck on a straw now , you can feel the kind of pressure vacuum you make in your mouth . That pressure does not care about what it might cause to dislodge .

2) Spitting Out Blood

At least , for the first 24 hours . After 24 hours ( specifically , after your gums stop consistently bleeding ) and you start doing saltwater rinses , you’ re free to spit . But regardless , forceful spitting can do the exact same damage as drinking from a straw . It’ s the pressure and force you cause . When you do saltwater rinses , don’ t really swish. Tilt your head side to side and slowly push the water around . For the first 24 hours , you are encouraged to swallow blood instead of spitting , to avoid the risk of spitting out the start of a blood clot and prolonging the bleeding cycle . Keep in mind the nausea this can cause .

3) Alcohol and Hot Food/Liquid

Paring these together since they cause similar issues . Alcohol can melt a blood clot , and abundance of heat can increase blood flow too the clot . Both of these will cause the clot to dissolve or come loose , but cold food/drink is more recommended . Yes , cold can cause an ache if it manages to come into direct contact with the healing area , but it will not affect the blood clot as seriously as hot food/drink will . Room temperature is also okay for consumption.

4) Exercise

Light exercise is okay , but anything that ups your heart-rate is upping blood flow to your wound . Nothing strenuous, nothing that pushes endurance , nothing that you know will exhaust you . Even if you heart-rate jumps from something like chasing a cat down because they have something they shouldn’ t have can cause increased blood flow ( trust me , it felt like I was undergoing divine punishment because I stopped my cat from eating a tuff of dog hair . ) The sudden taste of blood is a warning to slow down what you’re doing .

While dry socket can heal on it’s own, the gums will cover the exposed bone regardless of if there’s a clot there or not, this pain is not something anyone deserves to struggle with . Once again , dealing with dry socket is dealing exposed bone and nerve .

Dentists are expensive , and if you cannot afford a dental visit after the loss of a tooth, I only want you to be aware of one of the more serious complications that come with such a thing happening . Everyone deserves to heal in comfort , and I only want people to have the best chance at having a complication free healing process .

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @mochie85 divider by @fictive-sl0th <3

Summary: It's been a long time coming... But now the day for you and Loki to say 'Yes' and enter the bond of marriage has finally arrived. A covenant for eternity.

Chapter Two - y/n's Bachelorette Party

Warnings for this Chapter: suggestive smut/light smut, partying, alcohol, dancing, talks of babies?

Word Count: 4,2k

a/n: So... This chapter is a little wild - as it should be, right? After all, this is Y/N's bachelorette party! 🥂

A huge shoutout in this chapter goes out to @sagitternolunaspace ! Thank you for helping me with the Midgardian (pre-) wedding traditions! Also a huge thanks to everyone who helped me along with this chapter and gave me ideas for the party!

💍 Chapter One °☆• Chapter Three 💍

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• A Covenant for Eternity Masterlist (coming soon!)

Loki had barely returned from his little two-day mission, when he immediately went to see you, of course - and somehow on the way between the gym and your shared apartment, the both of you ended up on the common living room sofa; kissing and cuddling. Well... At some point rather casually making out; not wasting a single thought that anybody could just walk in.

"I missed you," you breathed into Loki's ear, as he was hovering above your laying body; head buried in the nape of your neck. Soft lips caressed the skin there, while one of your hands tried to tame his wild raven curls.

You could feel your fiancé smiling against your neck. The muscles in his upper body twitched as he pulled back and readjusted his position. He placed both his hands beside your head, causing his biceps to bulge against the leather.

"Words are not enough to describe how much I missed you, my love." His lips found yours once again, but when he wanted to pull back this time, you didn't let him and so Loki just took you with him; causing you to end up straddling his lap.

You could feel the god smirking in the kiss; big hands gripped your sides and roughly pushed you closer against his chest. Loki's lips muffled your squeak and before you could react was his tongue suddenly involved in the ever-growing passion of this little reunion.

Heat grew within your veins, and even though you still were in the common living room, you couldn't resist the temptation.

You rolled your hips against Loki's; causing the god to break free from the kiss. A low groan left his mouth, before his jaw dropped in the sudden wave of arousal which just drowned him.

You just smirked. It didn't happen too often that you were able to catch him off guard like that. "Seems like you really did miss me," you breathed; tucking on a few loose raven curls.

But Loki recovered fast and within the blink of an eye, your wrists were held together in the firm grip of your fiancè's right hand.

"Naughty girl..." His low, husky voice caused a shiver to run down your spine.

Now Loki was the one smirking. How the tables have turned...

The god moved his left hand from your hip to the hem of your t-shirt; his mission clear. But before he was able to complete his mission, a loud, happy sing-song voice, coming undoubtedly from the hallway bursted the little, steamy bubble you and Loki were in...

"Oh Y/N!"

Wanda.

Your friend scared you so much, that you flinched and literally fell off of Loki's lap - and almost from the sofa, "Woah!" but your soon-to-be husband caught you in time.

Not a few seconds later, Wanda, Nat, Jane and Pepper appeared in the doorway; giggling like a group of teenage girls.

"Y/N!" Wanda sang out again. "It's time, babes," added Natasha, while Pepper started to grin smugly. "Ooo, girls, I think we may have interrupted something." The blond woman referred of course to the position you and Loki were in... Him, manspreading on the sofa and you, well... A leg draped over his lap and hand on his chest.

Jane started to giggle, while the other three ladies were grinning broadly. "Of course, we interrupted something. We all know that they can't leave their hands off of each other."

Loki, being the smug and self confident god he was just smiled charmingly at your friends and ran a hand through his long, wavy raven curls. "Well, you can't blame Y/N, can you, ladies? I have that effect on women," he smouldered; winking.

While Loki had the perfect response at the ready, you just blushed and wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

"You have that effect on Y/N - and that's enough," Nat said with her arms crossed; stepping closer. The others followed her.

"No need to be embarrassed, babes." She winked at you. "Come on, it's time."

You blinked; were utterly confused now. "Time? Time for what?" The gorgeous spy rolled her eyes. "Ох, ради бога... (Oh, for god's sake...) Your bachelorette party of course! We've got only three weeks till the wedding, so come on!"

You blinked once again. "B-Bachelorette party?" "Yes!" The whole group chanted; giggling, before Wanda summoned a folded paper with her magic and let it float into your hands. Still taken by surprise, you opened it.

It was a list. A packing list.

"Go, pack your stuff! Departure is in 30 minutes!" Jane urged you on. "B-But, I can't just leave, I- Loki-" "Ah.Ah," your best friend cut in. "Mischief will survive two days without you." With those words, she grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet. "You won't be mad at us for stealing your girl for the weekend, right, Mischief?"

The god sighed, but smiled. "I'm afraid I won't have much of a say in this, so... As long as you're going to bring her back to me unharmed..." His words caused the Widow to roll her eyes and the other women to giggle. "You do remember who I am, Laufeyson? Who we all are?"

Loki smiled. "Of course, Miss Romanoff."

About an hour, quite a few goodbye kisses and some hectic, chaotic and definitely uncoordinated packing later, you sat inside a fancy limousine together with your girls - and a bottle of champagne.

"Here's to your wedding, sweetie," Wanda proposed a toast and lifted her glass with the sparkling liquid inside. Pepper and Nat followed. "Here's to the fact that we are related soon!" giggled Jane and brought the glass up in the air as well. You smiled a bit tensed, but joined in. "Here's to me marrying the love of my life." You all clung glasses and took a sip. Shortly after, you felt the hand of your maid of honour on your shoulder; gently kneading the muscle. "Relax, babes. I know that we kinda assaulted you with this, but that's the fun thing about it. Don't worry, it's gonna be great." You smiled. "I know, Nat."

With the time passing, you indeed got more and more relaxed and were really looking forward to where your friends would take you. "Okay, girls, tell me... Where are we going and what are we going to do?" You asked, knowing very well that you most likely would get no answer.

All of them giggled. "Nice try, but we definitely won't tell you a thing," Pepper said. "Yes, let yourself be surprised!" Wanda agreed. You sighed, but kept on smiling. "Alright, alright! Just tell me if there's gonna be strippers involved, because if there are, Loki's gonna kill you all - and I don't want that."

Nat shook her head. "There's not, no." "I mean, we thought about it," Wanda giggled. "But I said that you won't probably want that, because 1) Mischief would kill us, like you said, and 2) You can get that every day, because you literally have your personal stripper, so..." The Widow explained and took another sip of the champagne. "That's right. We would've never find a man that's hotter - at least for you," Pepper said. You giggled, "Wise decision, ladies - and I mean, you got a point." and shrugged your shoulders. "If I think about it... I should ask Loki to strip for me way more often, 'cause I certainly miss something out if I don't..." The girls laughed and wholeheartedly agreed with you.

About two hours, another champagne glass and dozen party songs later, you and the girls had reached your destination. Nat blindfolded you and helped you out of the limousine, while the others 'checked if the coast is clear'. You were nervous, but also overly excited about what was to come. After all, you had absolutely not a single clue what they had planned.

"Okay, babes, are you ready?" "I think so, yep. Hit me." Nat smiled - unbeknownst to you, and led you a few steps forward. "Alright..." She started to untie the blindfold again, "I hope you are excited to spend Friday and Saturday here with us." and uncovered your eyes.

Slowly, you opened them; peeking at first. You could recognise a huge, quite fancy building. Curiously, you opened your eyes completely - and only mere seconds later they widened to the size of plates; jaw slacking. "Oh my gosh!" You squeaked up; taking everything in. "Is this... Is this what I think it is?!"

Your friends laughed and nodded. "Indeed," said Nat. "The spa hotel you always talked about," continued Jane. "With dozens of different saunas, swimming pools, wellness, a restaurant..." listed Pepper. "And in the 'basement' is a disco with a bar," giggled Wanda.

You squealed.

"A-And we're going to stay here almost the whole weekend?!" They all nodded again. "All inclusive, of course. Only the best for our bride." Nat winked at you.

"You all are insane, I- Ahhhh!" You quickly pulled your friends into a group hug; close to shedding a few tears of happiness. "Thank you all so, so much! I love you, girls."

Once Natasha had checked everybody in, three kind bellboy carried all the bags to two rooms on the same floor. You shared a room with Natasha and Pepper, Wanda and Jane shared one - which was straight opposite yours and Nat's. Then you all went to explore the rooms and unpack the bags. It was beautiful, luxurious and perfect for a weekend.

A spacious king-sized bed, big bathroom, balcony, walk-in wardrobe, mini bar and even a huge flat screen TV.

Your friends definitely spared no expense. That much was clear.

The first thing you all did was, of course, to explore the whole hotel and what you were able to do two and a half days. Turned out, there was a lot - like mentioned before by Pepper and Wanda, but also so much more.

Since you were the bride, you got to choose where to start. Being still a little high on adrenaline and excitement, your decision was easily made... The 'adventure' section of the huge swimming pool area with at least ten or fifteen different water slides. The moment you laid your eyes upon these, the kid in you screamed at you to go there.

Unfortunately, there was a problem you didn't recognise you had - until you were on the way to the women's bathing cubicles. "Girls..." You stopped in your tracks; eyes wide. "I don't have swimwear. You didn't tell me to pack something, so I didn't..."

Pepper, Natasha, Jane and Wanda exchanged a look, before they all broke into wide smiles. "Finally..." laughed Pepper. "She realised it." "We thought you'd never get to it," giggled Wanda.

You just blinked; looking incredulously at your friends - until Natasha started to rummage through her bag and revealed a little package; neatly wrapped in pink wrapping paper. "There was a reason why we didn't tell you to pack something. Besides, it would've probably ruined our surprise," she sat and handed you the gift. "Unwrap it!" Jane literally couldn't wait for you to see what's inside.

"O-Okay, thanks." You started to unwrap it, "Is it the obvious item I think it is?" and giggled - but your laughter immediately died in your throat when you held said item in your hand. It was a swimsuit. An emerald green bikini. And it wasn't just a swimsuit... It was probably the sexiest you had ever seen... Beautifully tailored and definitely able to show off your curves. Perfect for you.

You swallowed; taking in the piece of swimwear. "Um, girls... Are you sure this is a swimsuit and not lingerie?" They all giggled, but nodded. "We can confirm, it's a swimsuit," answered Pepper. "But we thought since you are about to get married and this is your bachelorette party, you could use something sexy, too, you know?" "Besides, it's definitely multifunctional. When Mischief sees you in this... He's gonna loose his shit," Nat winked at you.

You couldn't help but giggle girlishly. "I could be a bad, bad girl and send him a pic of me later; ask him what he thinks." A murmur went through the crowd. "Little minx," your best friend teased you, while the others just giggled.

Once you thanked your girls thoroughly and everybody got changed, you all made a beeline to the slides - and what could you say? You didn't have this kind of fun since you were probably a teenager. You didn't regret your decision even in the slightest. Nat, Jane, Pepper and Wanda loved it as well and so it was no wonder that you all spent the rest of this exciting Friday in that department of the hotel.

Around 7 p.m., everyone returned to their shared hotel rooms, in order to shower and get ready for dinner. The hotel also had a restaurant - of course, and it turned out that the food was absolutely delicious. With bellies full of delicacies, you all pondered about what to do for the rest of the evening. A decision was rather quickly made.

"Again, babes, you are the bride... Your decision."

You remembered your best friend's words and decided to pay the disco downstairs a visit. After all, you had every reason to celebrate, right?

You were currently standing inside the spacious bathroom; changing into your cocktail dress before Pepper, Jane and Wanda would come around. It was literally the first ten minutes (besides showering) you had for yourself. A few moments to breathe and take everything in. With your one hand helping your body to slip into fresh underwear, the other hand went to press your fiancè's name on your phone in order to give him a call. It was time to finally get in touch with him... You tapped on the speaker button and let it ring, but Loki didn't pick up. Shrugging your shoulders you ended the call.

After you were done, you switched with Nat.

Fifteen minutes later, everyone was ready to go - the other girls as well and so, you went downstairs together.

The disco was huge for a 'hotel disco'. A spacious, fancy room with a bar, bar stools, bar tables, some sitting accommodations, a mirror ball, and of course a big dance floor in the middle. When you arrived, the party was already in full swing. It was crowded, but not overly crowded. Perfect conditions.

The first thing you did was, of course, going to the bar and getting drinks; drinking a toast to your upcoming wedding, the bachelorette party and friendship.

After that you stormed the dance floor; taking all your friends with you.

In the middle of the crowd, Nat called suddenly out to you; literally screaming through the music and singing people. "Babes, your phone is ringing!" You had placed your mobile on a little bar table at which your best friend stood; taking a break from all the dancing and having something to drink, while you were currently dancing with Wanda.

"What?!" You yelled back; letting go of Wanda and turned to face the Widow. "I said your phone is ringing!" "Who is it?!" "Wait, I'll check." There was silence for a short moment. "Your Disney prince!" She answered with an audible smile. "Can you-" "Already on my way!" No five seconds later, you had your mobile in your hands.

"Thanks!" She just winked at you. "No phone sex, yeah?! We are in a disco, babes!" You rolled your eyes and shook your head, but also couldn't stop yourself from grinning. "Shut up!" Nat laughed and watched you leave for the toilets.

It were small moments like this which reminded you why Natasha was your best friend.

"Hey, babe," you happily answered the incoming call, "I know, I texted you that I'd call again, but well... I'm sorry." and bit your lip. "Where have you actually been? You hardly miss a call from me."

On the other end of the line, Loki stood beside a huge black party bus. The bass of the current song could be even heard outside, like the god noticed. "Hello, darling, I-" He didn't get really far to explain something... One of the bus doors slid open; revealing a definitely tipsy Tony. "Reindeer Games, 'r ya comin' back now?!" The billionaire literally yelled at the god. Therefore you weren't able to overhear it.

A frown formed on your forehead. "Loki, I- Is that... Was that...? Did Tony just- WHAT? Babe, what the hell are you doing? Where are you?"

Without answering Tony, he stepped further away from the bus; swallowing hard. "Well, love, I... I am at my bachelor party."

You blinked; brain seconds away from a restart. "What? Really? The boys took you out for your party at the same time?" "Seems like it, yeah..." Loki agreed; running a hand through his raven curls - unbeknownst to you.

"Well..." You started to smile. "As I can hear, you followed my advice and gave them a chance..." At the other end of the line, Loki smiled as well. "Yes, I did." A beat of silence passed, before... "Well, where are you? What are you doing? Spit it out, soon-to-be-hubby! I'm curious!" You demanded in a playful tone; giggling.

"I am afraid I don't know. My brother, Stark, Laing and Banner ripped me rudely out of my reading session three hours ago and since then we are, um, driving around in a party bus, did Lasertag and uh now, we are really partying. Lots of music and lots of alcohol."

You giggled. "Yep, sounds like a bachelor party. I'm excited to hear what you'll tell me tomorrow. Or well, rather where this journey took you and-" "Y/N! Our song is on!" Jane's voice cut suddenly through the air and your sentence; echoing through the empty ladies bathroom. "Oh my gosh, I'm on my way! Babe, I gotta go. We are at the disco and mine and the girls song is on!" Loki smiled - something you weren't able to see either. "Alright. I won't bother you any longer then. Have fun, my love." "Thanks! Have fun, too! But please look after yourself and don't drink too much, yeah?" "I promise, but only if you promise me the same, darling. I love you." "Yes, I promise! I love you, too."

You quickly hung up and literally stormed back to Wanda, Pepper, Jane and Natasha, who were already dancing to the song. "Come on, babes!" Nat squealed and took your hand; pulling you into the dancing circle.

"I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want!" You started to scream along the lyrics; pointing at Jane - who jumped on the train, of course.

"So tell me what you want, what you really, really want!" She hollered back at you; showing off her amazing dance moves.

"I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah!" You answered with the next lines of the song, before everybody joined you in singing.

"If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends! Make it last forever, friendship never ends!" By now you were all laying in each other's arms; fully embracing the song. Neither you, nor your friends cared about what the people around you were thinking. This was your bachelorette party - and you had every right to celebrate and be happy.

A few drinks, dances and songs later, you and the girls made their way back to your rooms. You weren't absolutely hammered. Nobody was. But definitely drunk.

It was quite late, when you and Nat found the way into the spacious king-sized bed you shared. You'd share with Nat anyway nearly anything. She was your best friend after all...

The following Saturday started very lazy for you and basically everybody else, too. You weren't the only one who had to sleep off your slight alcoholic intoxication and because of that didn't leave the bed until 11 a.m... Therefore turned breakfast almost already into lunch.

It was definitely time to get to the wellness part of this little trip. While the sauna called out for Nat, Wanda and Jane, the Thai massage sounded really inviting for you and Pepper. So, the group split up.

Ten minutes later, you found yourself laying on a massage couch; face down - gazing through a hole in the head support. Nothing but a towel was draped over your bum; covering little of your naked skin. You didn't care, though, just like Pepper. The massage you received from the two women standing beside the massage couch was exquisite.

You heard Pepper sigh in satisfaction. "Yep...," You answered almost drowsy. "I wholeheartedly agree, Peps."

After the massage, you and Pepper kinda switched with the other three girls. They went to get a massage as well and you and Mrs. Stark headed for the sauna.

Again you wore nothing but a towel, as you sat down on the wooden bench beside your friend. "Have you already called or texted Tony today?" You asked; looking at the blond woman. She just laughed and shook her head. "No, not a chance. I know him. He's probably still sleeping off his drunkenness somewhere." "I haven't heard from Loki yet, too... I texted him, but it seems like he isn't addressable yet either." Pepper turned to face you; smiling. "Well, it must've been a good bachelor party then." You giggled. "Apparently, yes."

Once the both of you had sweated enough, you took a shower, swam a few rounds and then rejoined with Nat, Wanda and Jane, in order to slowly round off your bachelorette party - and one of the private whirlpools was your chosen destination. Nobody else was around. Just you and the girls - and five glasses of champagne.

You all clinked glasses; smiling. "Thanks for this, girls. I absolutely enjoyed it. Best bachelorette party ever." "That's great to hear," started Wanda. "Means we made the right decisions."

Everybody laughed and took another sip of the expensive liquid.

"Now, babes... Tell us... What are you looking forward to the most in this new chapter of life?" Your best friend asked. "I mean, getting married is a big step, after all." Jane and Pepper agreed. "Especially when getting married to Loki. I think we can all say that we never expected to see Mischief marrying someday," said Wanda; giggling - to which also everyone agreed. "You turned him into a better person, babes. Can't deny that." Jane nodded at Nat. "She did, definitely. Thor tells me the same at least twice a week... What a good influence she is on his brother and how good she is for him."

You couldn't help but blush and smile sheepishly. "Well, I... All I did was giving him a second chance in life. A chance nobody thought he deserved." You swallowed hard; thinking back to the days how everyone looked at Loki through spiteful eyes.

"I felt that there was so much more behind those beautiful blue eyes. Not just the villain and power-hungry god he seemed to be. Because he's not. He's so much more. All he needed was someone who truly cares about him. Who listens to him and well... Who shows him love." "Aww..." The girls cooed. "That's beautiful," said Pepper. "That's true love," swooned Wanda. "Yes, but you didn't answer my question, babes." Natasha winked at you.

You smiled. "Well... Honestly? Everything. Sharing that deep bond with Loki - and with that the rest of my life. Calling him my husband..." A pleasant shiver run down your spine at that thought. "And well, I, uh, I wouldn't say no to start a family." You blushed in an even darker shade of red. It was something you never revealed to somebody besides Loki.

"Ahhh, oh my gosh, yes!" Your friends squealed; completely excited. "Please, Y/N, yes! You gotta! I wanna become an auntie!" Jane was completely excited. "Me too!" Agreed Nat. "Besides, you have the actual privilege to have a baby with that man. There are about a million ladies out there, who'd kill for a baby from Loki." "Nat!" You gently slapped her arm, but couldn't help but smile. She just shrugged her shoulders; smirking. "It's true, babes, and you know it." "Plus, you are going to have so much fun making that baby," Wanda commented; wiggling her eyebrows. You laughed, "Oh definitely. I absolutely don't doubt that, but..." and shook your head; your demeanour suddenly shifting very quick. "I talked with Loki about it and he, uh, he doesn't want kids. He made it very clear. I accepted his decision, of course, because I love him and didn't want to lose him."

All of the girl's jaws dropped. "He really said that?" Asked Jane in disbelief. You nodded. "Yeah... Repeatedly. He says he doesn't know how to handle children and that it has never been a priority in his life." "Ouch... But I can understand him. It's his choice and he has his reasons, so..." Nat said and the other girls nodded. "That's what I thought, too. I can't pressure him into this. I never would."

After a thoroughly relaxing day in the wellness area of the spa hotel, you all went back to your rooms; had a shower, packed the few things you had and just enjoyed the evening together.

On Sunday morning, it was already time to say goodbye again and the fancy limousine who drove you to the hotel picked you and your friends up again, in order to drive you back home.

Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @herdetectivetheorist @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @km-ffluv @brokenpoetliz @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @jaguarthecat @icytrickster17 @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @kimanne723 @lou12346789 @smolvenger @lokisrealpurpous @isaidoop @lokisgoodgirl @aagn360 @cakesandtom @alexakeyloveloki @glitchquake (Continuing in the comments!)

[themidnightcrimson]

nightclub ∗ eo

summary: in which you and your ex, lizzie, catch up in a nightclub bathroom.

words: 5.1K

warnings: top!lizzie, bottom!reader, fem!reader, angst if you squint, strap (r receiving), lots of french kissing, alcohol, really nasty fucking, there may be errors bc i was so feverish writing this

this post is for 18+ only. minors dni.

masterlist.

The neon blue and purple lights blinded you as you stepped into the club. Loud, pulsing music boomed in your ears as you inhaled the scent of alcohol and mixtures of over-drenched perfumes on the bodies of the crowd of people dancing. It was a warm room compared to the cool, spring night air.

Your friends had goaded you to come to the club tonight. It was a VIP establishment, made apparent by the celebrities and people of notoriety that you had already spotted in the large, luxurious club. Lizzie’s friends were your friends, and as such, you were invited to the after party for the Love and Death premiere even though you hadn’t talked to Lizzie in months. Whatever you had together fizzled away after an accumulation of arguments and misunderstandings. Lizzie was a slippery fish to catch, and you didn’t have the strength or energy to catch her. It was depressing.

They vowed to you that she wouldn’t be there tonight, which you believed independently from their promises because Lizzie never came to these kinds of things. You knew she would attend the primary premiere party earlier in the afternoon across town, but this kind of late-night event was never her thing. Your friends wanted you there not to celebrate her show, but to just be there with them after hiding yourself away for so long.

Still, walking through the crowd, you couldn’t help but dart your eyes around to catch a familiar blonde head or recognizable green eyes. You thought you heard her voice at one moment but realized it was a stranger talking that just so happened to sound like her. It was dizzying, knowing that there was a slight possibility she would be there, that you would face her after everything and face all the words that were left unsaid after your parting.

Relief washed over you when you found your group of friends nearby, who spotted you and waved you over. “Y/n!” they greeted you, giving you extra tight hugs and prolonged greetings.

You were wearing a thin little black dress, strapless at the chest and fading into a sheer skirt that rested above your knees. It wasn’t anything too fancy, but it was sexy enough to grant you leering looks from various people around. The validation soothed you, if you admitted it.

Your friends, donned in the purple hue of the club lights, knew they had to ease you into the night. They huddled around you in an area of white couches, ordering drinks after drinks and just catching up on life, as much as you could catch their voices amidst the music and voices. A few women and men approached you within the first hour, asking for a dance or to buy you a drink, which you politely declined each time although your friends tried to peer pressure you into accepting them. As recovered as you were, you just weren’t ready for a new stranger yet. You needed the comfort of your friends, of familiar places and familiar voices.

It had been hard to avoid Lizzie the past week, with the billboards and videos promoting the show, but you had managed well enough. Seeing her in a picture or video wasn’t enough anymore to evoke feelings within you, good or bad. She was a stranger now. Just another face you knew in a past life.

In due time, you and your friends mingled onto the dance floor. You were never much of a dancer, but several shots were enough to make you relax and dance to the music. It was freeing, moving your body to the music so loud it drowned out any thoughts your mind could formulate. Your friends danced all around you, holding onto each other, pairing up, sometimes letting a stranger come in and dance with you, grabbing at you, making unwanted advances that you declined by giggling and dancing away back to your friends. Somehow, more alcohol got in your system—some of your friends might have went back to the bar. You were at the perfect sweet spot now, aware and coherent, but relaxed and euphoric.

In a matter of an hour, you desperately needed to sit down and breathe for a minute. Your friends were relentless engines, staying on the dance floor while you struggled through the crowd, elbowing through until you arrived back to the couches and plopped down, catching your breath. You ordered a glass of ice water and chugged it, putting the chilled glass against your hot forehead so you could cool down.

“Taking a breather?” a man’s voice asked, and you looked up to see a guy your age standing in front of you, holding a drink.

“Oh, yeah,” you chuckled, wiping the condensation from the glass away from your forehead. “Dancing is tiring.”

He chuckled, and you could hardly see his face under the purple and blue lights. “Well, I was going to ask you to dance, but I guess would it be okay if I took a breather with you?”

You hesitated, setting the glass down and reaching down to your heels that were aching your feet. “Um…” You glanced across to the crowd of dancers, trying to point out where your friends were. You couldn’t see them, but you knew they were close enough because you could hear one of your friends’ goofy laughter. “I don’t know, I think my friends will be coming over soon.”

You didn’t feel like meeting anybody new, or making small conversation that would be pointless by the next morning.

“You sure? I could buy you a drink.” He had a friendly demeanor to him, and he wasn’t being exactly pushy, but you would’ve appreciated it if he just got the hint and moved on.

You smiled politely and waved your hand in the air. “No thanks.”

“Oh, c’mon,” he said, laughing and casually tucking his hand into his pocket. “Just one drink. Hey.” He lifted his hands in the air. “I’m a nice guy.”

You could have barfed on him right there. Instead, you just sighed and said, “Look, I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“Or I could get you another water,” he insisted, and you started to feel anxious in your stomach. You glanced back over to the crowd and tried to find your friends, but you couldn’t, and this guy stepped in front of your view. You looked up at him, getting nervous at how close he was now. You tried to think of some other way to reject him, still not wanting to be rude or harsh even though you were getting irritated. Your friend’s laughter was not in earshot anymore, and there was no else in this corner of the club—until your eyes saw someone walking towards you.

She came through the crowd of people almost like a mirage. Even from far away, under the dark purple and blue lights, her eyes shone like glittering moons, the lights casting off the sculpted heights of her face that you could still remember leaving kisses on. Her lips were pursed in neither a smile nor a frown, eyes fixated on you as she floated towards you.

She was wearing a beige suit, as per usual, and your heart broke a little at seeing that her hair was longer now. It went right past her shoulders, effortlessly styled into sandy blonde waves. She was holding a martini as she came and stood beside the man.

The guy noticed that you were staring right past him, so he turned around and jumped upon seeing Lizzie standing there like a statue behind him. “Oh,” he said, and it was obvious that he instantly recognized her. His mouth formed the word, “You’re—” before he stopped and looked back to you. “Oh, my bad.” He must have just then recognized you from old paparazzi pictures. “I’m so sorry.” He looked at Lizzie, whose eyes darted at him as she tightly smiled, and he practically scurried away.

Your throat felt tight as you looked up at her, every inch of you turning into stone as if she had Medusa’s glare. It became hard to breathe suddenly, and your face burned like molten lava.

“Hey,” she said so casually, her pursed lips pinching into a half-smile.

“Hi,” you whispered, knowing that she definitely couldn’t hear your meek voice over the loud music, but she knew what you said, anyway.

“Can I sit?” She gestured to the cushion beside you, but you felt like you were about to pass out. You faintly nodded, so she walked over, taking a seat on the cushion beside you. It was a respectable distance, but you could feel the cushion dip with her weight, so you scooted over a little. She sighed and flipped her hair over her shoulder as she leaned forward and sat her martini down on the table.

Her perfume struck you like a bolt of lightning. That sweet nostalgic smell that you had breathed in so many times, that had stuck to your clothes for weeks after you stopped talking, that you sometimes picked up in the air at random times and in random places, and it always brought back a rushing flood of memories that pained you. You turned your head, pretending to just scratch your nose as you tried to rid your sense of her beautiful but painful scent. It was overwhelmingly suffocating for you.

“I didn’t expect you to be here tonight,” her velvety voice spoke loudly over the music. “When I saw you across the room, I thought I was hallucinating.”

“Yeah, me too,” you mumbled, leaning forward and grabbing one of your friends’ half-empty drink and downing the rest of it. You could hear Lizzie take a sharp breath as she realized what you were drinking for.

“You didn’t expect me to be here tonight? At the party for my own show?” she asked with an edge of humor in her voice. You still couldn’t bring yourself to look over at her.

“You were never one for appearances.” You cleared your throat and wiped your nose again, trying to look anywhere else but her. There were a silent few moments where you could feel her looking at you. God, you hated how her gaze still made you feel like you were under the only beam of sun in the whole world, how it burned through the side of your face and made your nerve endings go crazy.

“You look beautiful tonight,” she said softer, and finally, you looked at her. She was sitting towards you, her legs crossed, hands clasped at her lap. No matter how calm she looked in the face, how much she could tame the ocean of emotions in her eyes, Lizzie’s hands always told her truth. They were fiddling with the ring on her thumb, twisting it around and around. It was funny how she did that without even realizing, and you’d seen her do it probably a thousand times.

“You do, too,” you whispered. She looked magnificent. Her skin was glowing, her eyes were complimented by her dark makeup, her hair looked perfect. She smiled softly, that familiar dimple forming in her cheeks.

A few more beats of silence ensued, but you kept your eyes on her, focusing on keeping your breathing slow and steady.

“I missed you,” she mouthed, and you could only hear the faintest sounds of her voice strings cracking.

“You didn’t miss me until you saw me just now,” you blurted, unsure if it was the alcohol or time between you making you so honest.

Her perfect eyebrows sewed together. “That’s not true.” Her hands stopped fiddling. “I have—I miss you every day.”

It felt impossible to keep looking at her—because you knew she was being truthful. With every second you saw that beautiful face, your breath left you more. You tore your eyes away and stared mindlessly at the table, rubbing your nose again to get her perfume out of your scent.

“Hey,” she said softly, to get you to look at her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. “Y/n.” You felt her scoot closer to you on the couch, her knee touching yours. “Look at me, baby.” That single word wrenched your stomach into such painful knots you almost doubled over.

“Don’t call me that!” you blurted, finally facing her. She looked taken aback at first, but she eased in, reaching out for your face. Her gentle, soft hand cupped your chin, and it instantly eased you. It was one of her old tricks.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, leaning in so close she only had to whisper for you to hear her. “I’m sorry I haven’t called. I wanted to, but I didn’t know… I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

Her eyes trailed over your face, her other hand slinking across the back of the couch so that she had you completely in her corner. Her knee was still touching yours. You caught the slightest twitch of a smirk on her lips as her thumb grazed over your chin, the very edge of it catching your lip so lightly you could hardly feel it. Her touch, her simple touch, soothed your heart. You had missed it, you had missed her so much that you felt imbued with a vibrating energy at seeing her now, at feeling her hand on your face.

“Lizzie—”

“Did I tell you that you look so beautiful tonight?” she cut you off, her lips curling further into a smirk like a cat’s tail. Her eyes were trained on your mouth, and this time her thumb rubbed your lower lip and bent it down a little. Her irises, tinted by the club lights, were flooded by her widening pupils. You wanted to crawl inside there, to drown inside those shiny emerald pools.

“You did,” you remarked, not helping the little smile on your lips.

She touched your lip again, biting her own. There was no air between you now, only her minty breath fanning on your buzzing lips. “Can I kiss you?”

Your immediate thought was yes. Lizzie was irresistible to you. She exuded comfort and seduction in the same beat. There was an undeniable magnetic field between the two of you that drew you together any time you were near each other. That you learned in the very beginning when you first met her and tried to resist her. You just knew that Lizzie was going to be that one ex you went back to time and time again. There was no stopping it, no defying gravity, so you nodded. You would always be hers, anyway.

Lizzie leaned forward and let her lips graze yours, pausing to breathe the same breath, her nose nestled against yours, eyelashes tickling the tops of your cheeks. Finally, she closed in, holding your chin as she kissed you. It was more overwhelming than her perfume. It was gentle, as she always was at first. It was pure and nostalgic, a sort of intimate greeting. Then it grew hotter, and so did your skin. Her lips moved eagerly against yours, tongue teasing your lower lip but not going in. The sound of her breaths getting faster twisted a knot in your stomach, dizzying you in her poisonous kiss as her hand landed on your mid-thigh. You grabbed at her shoulder, letting out a small whine that seemed to break her from her trance.

Lizzie broke from the kiss with a gasp, moving her open mouth to your neck as she caught her breath, her upper body leaning against you now. The air around you was electric as she breathed against your neck, your hand weakly holding onto the shoulder of her blazer.

After a few moments, she pulled away from your neck, looking at you with inebriated eyes. Her mouth half-smiled, the tip of her tongue rolling against the back of her teeth as she stared down at your now puffy lips.

“Dance with me,” she huskily demanded, grabbing your hand and standing up.

You could barely get a hold of yourself as she pulled you up from the couch and led you to the dance floor, realizing that a simple kiss from her had made your knees weak and legs wobbly.

Almost forgetting that you were in a club with dozens of people, you felt shocked by all the bodies that Lizzie led you through until she found an open spot on the floor. Turning to you, she yanked you closer to her by the hand.

The music playing was sultry now, with deep, throbbing bass and incoherent yet sensual lyrics. Lizzie’s hands held your hips as you started to move in rhythm with the beat.

“You’re just as demanding as I remember,” you said into her ear so she could hear you. She only sucked her cheeks and squeezed your hips, keeping you tight against her.

“You’re just as beautiful as I remember,” she said back, to which you playfully rolled your eyes.

“That’s the third time tonight. I’m getting tired of it.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t love my praise.”

You eyed her competitively as she smirked, tonguing her cheek deviously.

For a few moments, it was just you, Lizzie, and the music. You looked into each other’s eyes, somehow silently speaking all the words you wanted to say with them. There was no more distance between your bodies, and your arms wrapped around her shoulders as she guided you against her. You and Lizzie didn’t have to speak to have a conversation.

Your body grew hot when she leaned down and nosed her way through your hair to start kissing your neck. The room grew darker and warmer as you felt her suck on your neck, right on the sweet spot she knew you had. Your hand trailed up to her hair, tangling itself in those soft, delicate waves. She was all over you now, consuming you like wildfire. Her kisses grew wet and hard as she trailed them up to your mouth before kissing you again on the lips, biting your lower one and piercing it with her teeth before releasing it. You gasped and kissed her again, just as eagerly as she was.

Lizzie’s hands trailed around your hips, her rings rubbing into your flesh as she grabbed hard at your ass, pushing your hips into her. It was then you felt that she was packing, and through the desire that throbbed through you, you wondered if she knew you would be there tonight or if she had packed for some random stranger she was expecting to take home. Either way, you grinded into her, feeling the vibrations of her growl against your mouth. Her body grew rigid for a moment, pressing desperately close to you, her hand crawling up the center of your back and up your neck until she grabbed your hair and turned you around, pulling you against her from behind.

“Lizzie!” you exclaimed as she pinned you against her, her hand crawling up your throat and gently holding it. The music, the lights, her touch, her voice—it was all just too much. She grabbed your hips and grinded you against her, her piece rubbing right into you.

Her lips came to your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe. “I want you, y/n.”

She was bunching your skirt up so she could touch your thigh, grabbing and clawing at it. You hoped to God no one was filming anywhere near, or else the Internet would explode with pictures of Elizabeth Olsen and her ex y/n practically dry humping in a club.

“I need you,” she growled again, her body pressed hot and close against yours so that you were starting to break a sweat. “Please.” She kissed sweetly at your neck, hands on your hips loosening their grip so that she wouldn’t come off as too coercing.

Turning around to look at her, you tugged at the collar of her blazer, watching the absorptive lust in her eyes that was obviously becoming too much for her to bare. Biting your lip, you smirked and nodded.

The door to the club bathroom was practically kicked open as Lizzie burst through it, dragging you in behind her. There were also purplish blue neon lights in the single bathroom that was extremely small and a little dingy for being a respectable establishment. You could still hear the muffled music from inside the bathroom.

As soon as the door closed, Lizzie forcefully pushed you against it. The force of your back hitting the door knocked the breath out of you, but she was on you, grabbing your face and kissing you harshly. Her hand trailed down to reach beside you and lock the door.

“You can’t wear things like this,” Lizzie growled, breaking the kiss to look down at your sheer skirt, grabbing two fistfuls of it and pushing it up your hips so she could see your thighs and the little lacey panties you were wearing under it.

“You don’t like it?” you husked, turned on at the way she was looking up your skirt while biting her lip hard.

“It’s something I would’ve never let you wear out alone,” she murmured, looking back up at you as she reached one hand between your legs, cupping your pussy. “It’s just too fucking hot.”

Gasping, you grabbed at her blazer as she started wildly kissing your face and neck, and you could already feel your makeup melting off.

Moving your panties to the side, she pressed her fingers through your folds, instantly moaning at how wet you were. “Fuck, y/n.” The curse sounded like pure sex dripping from her lips.

Leaning forward, you dove your mouth to her neck and started biting her soft skin, inhaling a concentrated scent of her perfume where she had applied it to her pressure point. You almost couldn’t believe she was real, that this was your Lizzie pinning you to a club bathroom door, her hand up your skirt and in your panties.

“I can’t take it,” she whined, grabbing you and moving you to the adjacent wall, pushing you up against it, making sure her hand was cradling the back of your head as she pinned you to the wall.

Lizzie’s breaths were ragged as she fumbled at your panties, ripping them down your legs and kicking them to the side with her heels. She grabbed at your bare pussy, coming back in for another hot and heavy kiss on the mouth. You struggled to breathe, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and trying to meet the force with which she was kissing. She was becoming desperate and needy for you, her tongue shoving its way through your lips and settling into your mouth. She grabbed your face with her free hand and tilted it so she could press her tongue further into your mouth, the tip tickling the back of your throat as she devoured your mouth and moaned into it. Her hand massaged at your clit, relishing all the wetness between your legs that she knew was all for her.

“Fuck,” she cursed again, pulling away from the kiss to catch her breath, your mouths moistened with each other’s. Pressing her face into your hair and inhaling, she reached down to her belt with her free hand.

Desire throbbed through your feverish body, feeling like Lizzie’s presence had sobered you up and then got you drunk again. She tugged harshly at her pants, practically ripping them open and reaching in to take out her strap. She licked her lips and breathed heavily through her mouth as she looked down for a moment. She paused before suddenly wrapping her arm around your butt and lifting you up, causing you to shriek and hook your legs around her hips. She pressed you against the wall, keeping you completely stuck between it and her, her mouth on yours again.

“Lizzie,” you breathed, feeling dizzy at the passion frenzied in the air between you.

Upon hearing you say her name, she stopped, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other holding her cock. She looked up at you with as clear vision as she could through her tainted desire. “Can I? Please?”

You put a hand to the back of her head, tangling your fingers through her hair. Of course, you wanted her to, but you had never seen her quite so desperate for you like this in a long time, and you wanted to draw it out.

“Please,” she repeated, leaning down to bite at your shoulder. She was pressing you so hard against the wall you could barely breathe, let alone move. If she wanted to, she would.

“Please what?” you asked innocently, as if she wasn’t standing there holding her strap towards you in anticipation.

Her eyes flickered up to you, shadowed under the dim neon lighting. “Please let me fuck you,” she begged, nipping at your lips and kissing all over your face, pressing harder into you. “Please, please, please.”

You didn’t want to cut her off while she was hot, so you dug your nails into her back and whispered, “Yes.”

She nearly gasped when you said it, her teeth sinking hard into your neck and making you cry out. However needy she was before, it was even worse now as she tore into your skin and steadied herself, lining the tip of her strap with your entrance and guiding it inside you all at once with one forceful snap of her hips.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried out, knowing no one outside would hear you through the music and the thick walls.

“Fuck, fuck,” Lizzie cursed against your neck, adjusting you so that your legs were wrapped tight around her and you were locked between her and the wall. Grabbing at your skirt again, she yanked it up around your hips and held them as she withdrew her hips and then thrust them forward again.

To be honest, you hadn’t been with anyone since her, which you wouldn’t tell her because you knew there was an element of jealousy in the air at the thought that either of you might have been with other people, and Lizzie always packed large. Your eyes squeezed shut as she thrust herself into you hard and fast, giving you no time to adjust.

“God, I’ve missed you,” she exclaimed against your shoulder, her hands moving to your ass and grabbing it hard as she fucked you against the wall.

Keeping your ankles hooked behind her, you tried to spread your thighs wider so it would be easier, but even with that and how wet you were, she was just too big and you were too tight.

“Lizzie, slow down,” you pleaded, grabbing at her blazer and leaning your head back against the wall so you could breathe.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, looking up at you and kissing your jaw gently. She listened as best as she could, slowing down her thrusts, but it was obvious she couldn’t help how hard she snapped her hips each time.

After a few moments, you started to adjust, and she started to lose control again, and the searing pain faded away into unfiltered, throbbing pleasure. You grabbed needily at her as she hammered into you, the strap moving just right against her own clit that she started to moan into your neck.

“I’ve missed your pussy, fuck,” she grunted, and the dirtiness of your words made you realize the dirtiness of the situation. How she was fucking you wildly and desperately, pinned up against the wall, in the club bathroom under neon lights, after having just seen her for the first time in months only some twenty minutes ago.

There was no space between you, only as much as she would allow to withdraw her hips between each thrust, and you thought that Lizzie might crush you to death against that wall.

“Oh, fuck!” she moaned, fucking into you even harder as her heavy breaths filled your ear. You turned your head to kiss at the side of her face, trying to soothe her. It only drew her attention to your mouth, because she turned and caught your lips with her own, shoving her tongue down your throat again. The sound of your head hitting the wall caught her attention, so she lifted one hand away from your ass to cradle the back of your head. You were helpless, pinned mercilessly there against the wall, and all your senses being filled with Lizzie was building a pressure in the pit of your belly. She was so deep inside you, stretching you out, kissing you so hard and deep, your body was overwhelmed.

In an instant, your orgasm crashed over you, walls squeezing around her cock as you practically screamed into her mouth, her moans mixing with yours. You trembled, knowing that if she wasn’t keeping you against that wall with her own body and strength, you would’ve slid right to the floor.

You could tell Lizzie was close, but she was not stopping as she chased her own high, fucking you through your orgasm and making another one quickly build behind it. You were a melted puddle in her arms now, weak and overstimulated, stretched out and used.

Lizzie finally pulled away from your mouth, instead choosing to occupy her mouth with biting your shoulder. “Fuck,” she groaned, her thrusts getting sloppy and unhinged. Her hand on your ass was digging her nails into your flesh and undoubtedly leaving bruises, but you didn’t care. You wanted her to cum.

“Cum for me, Lizzie,” you whispered, scratching at her warm back underneath the blazer. “Cum for me.”

She did, fucking harder into you than before, crushing you so hard against the wall that your back ached and you could barely breathe. You held onto her, holding her head as she trembled and shook and moaned against you for several moments until finally she sighed, putting some pressure off you so you could breathe again. It took her several minutes to come down, and you stroked her hair every minute of it, kissing her cheek as she nuzzled her nose into your hair for comfort.

Finally, she pulled away and looked at you, her makeup smudged and hair wild, with a gleam of sweat on her forehead. “Holy fuck,” she whispered, looking down as she carefully pulled out of you, noticing the way you winced a little. She tucked her strap away and buckled her belt, gently setting you down on the floor. You could feel how bad your back ached now, and how weak your legs were. Knees buckling, you hooked an arm around her shoulder, and she held you up against her, grinning down at you devilishly.

“God, I missed you.”

“Will you pick my underwear off the floor, please?”

[rensukei]

↻ ...something so innocent

in which you make one right move, and you're suddenly all they want. ft. tsukishima kei & iwaizumi hajime

cw use of feminine clothing and pet names but never directly uses she/her prns, heavily suggestive. not proofread. wc: 1.2k

a/n ik this topic is vague but i LOVE the song i got the idea from. lay me down in my grave in 60 years and play this song. watch me come back to life from this mf beat. also apologies for the lack of paragraph indentation my computer just didn't like the idea of keeping those spaces ig

of all people to test, tsukishima was not one of them; especially on the night that the sendai volleyball team was hosting a formal.

you in your pretty little dress, seated right next to the refined blonde—short his glasses this evening, instead swapped out for contacts and an all black suit—, were so perfect, keeping a watchful eye on your posture and tone of voice while in the presence of such opulent volleyball figures.

you turn to meet your painstakingly handsome fiancé, cursing him for how good he looks clad in black. "how's the wine, kei?" you ask, well aware of the answer.

he sets his glass down, taking extra care to not clang it against the table. "i'm trying my hardest to not wince at the taste of it." he lowly says with the hint of a smirk pulling at his lips. "i'm sure you aren't doing to well with it either though, princess. last time you had wine you were crying on the bathroom floor with my shirt because you thought you 'lost me.'"

"oh please, that was one time! i can handle a little red wine... and don't try to act like i don't notice you clenching the fabric of my dress with every sip you take, hypocrite." you reach ahead of you, grabbing a full glass of water. "have some."

"as if this will help," he takes a sip, "it feels like i've been served straight rubbing alcohol."

you giggle at his quip, "oop," you gently place your hand on the edge of the glass, "don't spill, kei." suddenly speaking just loud enough to where he could hear your faint whisper, you were too focused on the task at hand to realize the intimacy of your actions, "we don't need to be crying on the floor with my shirt now, do we?"

its by the grace of god that he didn't throw that very glass across the room and run out the door with you in his hand. something in the tone of your voice—or perhaps just the hushed, innocent nature of which it came across—made him flush a furious claret, similar to the repulsive beverage that may or may not have contributed to the slow heat rising to his cheeks.

after quickly recovering from the affect your words had on him, he sets the water down on the table as his hand slides underneath the tablecloth and onto your leg. his head dips down, lips dangerously close to your ear as his head is now hidden from the rest of the guests.

"oh, but we could be, princess," he softly mutters, "wouldn't that be fun? 'could put on a show for everyone—you'd like that now, wouldn't you angel?"

and just as quickly as it happened, it ended just as fast. his stature returned to his normal posture as if nothing happened; as if the most sinful words didn't fall past his lips. one thing stayed, though; his hand kept it's place on you underneath that table for the rest of the night.

iwaizumi had just gotten home after a long day at practice, walking into your shared home with a huff as he sets his bags down. moving into the kitchen following the faint smell of cooking, he finds you above the stove with shorts and a tank top on, tied together with a pretty little apron hugging your figure.

"ah, welcome home, haji!!" you drop the utensils from your hand and run up to welcome him with a tight embrace.

he receives your affection as a small grunt slips past his lips at the impact. "well hello, angel," he revels in the way you fit against him, then quickly remembers that he's a sweaty volleyball trainer who hasn't showered yet. "ah, hold on, let me go shower-"

"let me run it for you," slipping out from his arms, you flip the stove off and move the empty pan to the sink, "i haven't actually started cooking yet so it can wait."

moving across the kitchen to where you keep your aprons, your back faces the worn out iwaizumi as he watches your hands slip behind you to undo the bow that was so neatly tied. but, uh oh, it seems as though it's accidentally gotten all knotted up-

"oh gosh.. haji, can you come help me with this? i think- i think it's stuck.."

its a mystery as to why something so innocent could possibly effect him this way. ...helping you untie the knot on your apron? this does not prompt him bending you over the counter in any instance. ever.

he tries his damned hardest to swat the indecent thoughts bubbling up in his mind away as he makes his way over to your struggling frame. it was so hard not to just fold you over right then and there; your hands behind your back, your hair up and out of the way... it was all too perfect.

he couldn't help the way his hands instinctively slid beneath the rough fabric of the apron, feeling the supple top under his calloused fingers.

"you know, doll, i had such a long day," he says lowly as his hands find their way around your body, "would you mind... helping me out a little?"

the unexpected movement and actions of your lover catch you by surprise, a sudden warmth beginning to pool. "oh, baby- i haven't even started dinner y-"

"aw, but it's okay, pretty. i'm not too hungry, anyways," he turns you around to meet his gaze, a look you know all too well at this point in your relationship. your head lifts as you reach up and graze his lustful lips with yours in a feverish kiss as he undoes the problematic knot at the small of your back, an action he's a bit too familiar with as his skillful hands waste no time.

needless to say, dinner was neglected and the shower was (fortunately) postponed.

ps. i was going to do three-four charas but i got bored and impatient ;)

©𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 :: tpwk!!

[builtbybrokenbells]

The Green-Eyed Monster

After a particularly shitty day, refuge in alcohol seems like the best option to help Jake recover from his poor mood. Y/n, his long time girlfriend joins him and his bandmates at the bar with high hopes to salvage the night. Jealousy, which had never been in Jake’s vocabulary, makes its first groundbreaking presence and laughs at its own disastrous effects.

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 17k (oops 🤭)

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (actual filth), unprotected sex (wrap it), borderline hate-fucking, rough sex, oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), fingering, dom/sub, degradation, name-calling, slapping, spanking, overstimulation, forced orgasm, touch of bratty sub, biting, mutual masturbation, praise, pet-names, swearing, jealousy, possessiveness, drinking, toxic themes, angst (with a happy ending, pinky promise), arguments, probably definitely missed some, sorry!!

Here’s some filthiness with a touch of toxicity and angst because my last few posts were a bit too sweet 🥰 had to switch it up somehow. got a little carried away with this bad boy. had to cut some out cause i got too into it, so if it seems a little fast paced at the end, please keep that in mind! just couldn’t stop myself. it’s long, smutty, intense and does end well, i promise 😃 also very poorly proof-read cause i can’t sleep and decided to post this tonight instead of tomorrow, so please be nice. as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

also, side note: all of the love I’ve received for Picasso has made my heart incredibly happy. I was very nervous posting it, and you guys really eased my worry. I appreciate you all dearly, your kindness makes me want to keep writing ♥️

~

Jake was in a terrible mood, and there was no doubt about that. Perhaps in the beginning, the idea of a lighthearted night at the bar was intriguing; something to take his mind off his mistakes in the studio earlier that morning, and hopefully to make up for his and Josh’s incessant bickering. It didn’t take long for that idea to turn sour in his mind, too. By the time you both realized it wasn’t going to brighten his spirits, you were already clad in a miniskirt and low cut body suit, hanging over the bar-top to tip the bartender. He thought it best to keep his mood to himself and just try to enjoy the sight of you all dressed up. It worked for a while; the tension remained minimal due to his hand permanently anchored to your hip, reminding him of all he had to be grateful for.

Once he’d gotten a few drinks into him, the familiar smile you loved so much started to grace his lips. The tension in his shoulders melted slightly, leaving him lax against the back of the dirty bar booth. His protective grip around your waist had turned into a loose hang over your shoulders, gently guiding you into his side with a loving undertone. Every so often, he even managed a laugh at his brothers antics, leaving you to believe the night may still be saved. But, only to your trained eye, you could still notice the cloud of irascible energy in his eyes.

You were quite certain that when he’d arrived back to your shared home earlier that day, the bedroom would never recover from the shock of the pornographic scene. You’d been able to pick up on his frustration through limited texts, only to have the speculation solidified when you finally caught sight of the expression on his face as he walked through the front door. When it never came, an uneasiness settled in your stomach. Jake’s favourite method of stress-relief was fucking you, which was always quite fine by you. Knowing that he still had all of the pent up anger left you conscious of the fact the night was teetering on a thin line; if it went well, no harm nor foul. If not, you were going to have to plan ahead for a rest and recovery period.

You were more than shocked when your long-term boyfriend pitched the idea of joining his brothers at the bar. In his ill-temper, he usually turned into a bit of a recluse. But, you thought it best to go along with the idea. If he thought it would cheer him up, you were happy to oblige, and never complained about seeing his band mates. They’d turned into the best of friends over the years, and they were your favourite company to keep aside from Jake. You opted to believe it couldn’t be the worst idea in the world. So that’s where you ended up: sitting in a bar booth with Jake wrapped around you and laughing alongside the other three boys.

They’d picked a small bar that you all frequented. It had low traffic and strong drinks to keep spirits high. There were dart boards, pool tables, complimentary table peanuts and some slot machines if you ever decided to try your luck. They kept a steady stream of dad rock flowing through the sound system when the karaoke wasn’t open to the public, and the bartenders had grown into acquaintances over the months of regular visits. If you were to go to any bar, this was the perfect one to choose. You all had yet to have a bad experience, aside from an occasional wandering hand from a too-drunk regular, or a drunken snide comment that was easily brushed off. The night was destined to be good, assuming Jake was kept in good spirits.

You picked up a shelled peanut, cracking the soft exterior with your thumb. You took one half of the shell and placed it on your napkin, and took the other one and tossed it across the booth. It hit Sam in the side of the head, as he was turned to speak to Danny who was beside him. He whipped his head towards you, the soft thud of the impact catching his attention. He immediately knew the culprit, as you’d been doing it intermittently the entire time you’d been there. You gave him a sweet smile, one filled with innocence, as if to say you would never do such a thing. His accusatory stare made it difficult to hold back laughter. He picked up the shell, which had fallen anticlimactically to the table, and tossed it back in your direction. It bounced off your chin and dropped down into your shirt, causing an eye roll from you. Sam pointed a finger at you, a silent warning not to do it again. You picked it from your cleavage and placed it with the rest of the waste atop the napkin. You vowed to leave him alone, just long enough for him to forget about it, then strike again.

Josh, who was caught in conversation with his twin brother, suddenly smacked his palms against the tabletop, catching you by surprise and making you jump. You turned your attention to him, eager to know what the disturbance was about. “Drinks!” He announced. “One for you, brother dearest?” He asked Jake. He gave him a nod. Josh’s eyes trailed to your glass, noticing the liquid threatening the end and muddled with melted ice. “And for you, pretty lady?” He asked, flashing a smile. Nobody else noticed, but Jake’s eye gave a small twitch, and his jaw clenched at the term of endearment.

“Another Mojito, please.” You grinned, not willing to pass up an offer of a free drink. He had no worries buying them for you. You and Josh had been playing the same game for half a decade; he’d do something nice for you, and you’d hit him back with something even better the next time. The timeless battle had begun after you both had realized arguments of payments and repayments were getting you nowhere. Jake had found it endearing, never a worry in his mind about anything non-platonic. He trusted you with his life, as he did with Josh. He was more than happy that you were so close with his brothers, and would be the first to speak up if he were uncomfortable. But, the war had gone to extremes by times, ranging from signed albums from big music names they’ve met, to rarity collectors editions of his absolute favourite films. If the tally was still running, the amount of money and thought you’d put into each other would be unfathomable.

You looked over to your boyfriend, picking up on the sullen attitude once more. He caught your eye and you gave him an inquisitive look, but he just shook his head. You thought it best not to push him, instead leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek. Before you pulled away, he turned and gave you a real kiss, holding you there for a moment. When he pulled back, he gave you a small smile. You felt your nerves fizzle away, finding comfort in the small gesture. He was really good with always making sure you knew he wasn’t mad at you while he was generally upset. It was a small, constant reassurance that helped guide you through his occasional short temper.

When Josh returned, he placed everyone’s respective drink in front of them. “Thanks, darlin’.” You smiled, stirring the drink with your straw. You took a sip, a hum of gratitude immediately sounding from you. Mindless chatter ensued for a few moments, nothing of importance being spoken into existence. Then, the music over the speakers started to get louder and the lights were dimmed. The trashy coloured lights surrounding the dance floor flicked on, letting everyone know the time had hit double digits. A familiar note sounded, causing you to perk up instantly. Josh caught your eye, raising his eyebrow and nodding to the open dance area.

Without a second thought, you jumped up, reaching your hand out to him. It was a simple action, one that you’d done thousands of times over the years of you and Jake dating, and it had never been an issue. Jake was not a dancer, and you were sure he never would be. You theorized he may even try to skip out on your first dance at your wedding. Josh, on the other hand, was always happy to pick up the slack in that department.

You were a lighthearted spirit, one who loved fun and didn’t care about wandering eyes or judgment, not caring if your dancing or singing was making a fool of you. It was something that drew Jake to you in the first place, and he loved watching the sparkle in your eye as you lived your life to the fullest. He was usually happy that someone was always willing to dance with you; it ensured you were safe and it gave you someone to share a memory with. He was usually quite encouraging of Josh’s antics, especially because it meant the spotlight was off of him and he wouldn’t have to join you on the dance floor. He would never stop you from enjoying yourself, but certain things, as you’d come to understand, were just not Jake-esque.

That night, the sight of you so close with his brother, singing the song back to each other and him twirling you around, set him on fire. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was Josh’s unwavering pet names for you, or the way he always looked at you like he was head over heels for you, or the constant comments of Josh telling him how lucky he was. Or, how it looked like Josh was adding to your light, when in turn, sometimes Jake felt like he dimmed it. Especially on nights like that one, in particular, when he was perpetually angry and wasn’t sure how to shake it off. Or, maybe Jake was still pissed off at Josh’s critique and jabs at the studio when Jake was struggling to play his solos. Whatever it was, for the first time in his life, he was jealous of you and Josh. If looks could kill, his twin brother would have been on the floor.

“You okay?” Sam asked, picking up on Jake’s glare in the direction of the dance floor. His jaw was hard-set, knuckles white from the grip on his glass. Jake turned to face his younger brother, breaking out of the trance he’d found himself stuck in.

“Yeah.” Was all he replied, taking a long drink from his cup.

“It’s just Josh and y/n, they’ve always been like that. You’ve got nothing to worry about, brother.” Sam tried to ease the tension.

“Have they, though?” Jake snipped back, almost immediately. “Like that?” Sam and Danny looked towards you both, studying your actions for a moment. Eventually, they shrugged and gave a nod.

“Yeah.” Sam said, not finding anything out of the ordinary. “Come on, man. Josh would never do that to you, and neither would she. Y/n’s been head over heels for you since the day you met her.” Jake sent a look of warning to his sibling, silently telling him to stop trying to make the situation better. Jake knocked back the last of his drink, letting the bottom of the glass fall back on the table with a thud. Without another word, he stood and went to the bar.

As he waited for the bartender to fix his next drink, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander back over to you. He expected you both to filter back to the booth when the song ended, but the next tune caught your attention, too. Josh had his hand on your hip, and yours was loosely hung around his neck. You were close to him, but not provocatively close. Still, to Jake, it was more than enough to get his blood boiling. You were laughing at him singing the lyrics to you, swaying your hips in time to the beat. Even in his jealousy, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty. The wrinkles forming in the corner of your eyes, the radiant grin, the way your hair cascaded down and framed your face. He thought you were breathtaking, and for once, he was envious he wasn’t up dancing with you, instead.

He hadn’t realized the song had ended until you presented yourself in front of him, breathless and buzzing with joy. He felt himself soften slightly when you wrapped your arm around his midsection and leaned into him. “Hi, handsome.” He could tell you were tipsy; he could hear it in your words. He let his hand fall from his drink, bringing it to your face and running his thumb over your cheek. The anger seemed to melt away as soon as you touched him, and he was fully engrossed in your presence. The thought of you dancing with Josh became a distant memory to him as soon as you stood on your tip-toes and placed a kiss on his lips. “What’s wrong?” You whispered, concern thick in your voice. He looked down at your face, not knowing exactly how to answer.

“I… I’m okay.” He assured you, leaning down for another kiss. He realized he may have been a bit irrational, especially now that you were with him, showing him ten times more affection than you were with his brother.

“You can talk to me, honey.” You pried just a little, hoping he might open up. He snaked his free hand around your waist, letting it rest dangerously low on your back.

“Think I just needed a kiss.” He brushed your concern off, but you could still sense the indifference in his voice.

“Whatever you say.” You hummed, turning towards the bar. He kept his hand on your lower back, but turned with you. He grabbed his drink and sipped at it while you caught the bartenders attention. He rushed over, giving you a smile.

“Mojito?” He asked. You nodded enthusiastically, happy he remembered your order. He grabbed all of the ingredients, making small talk with you while he made your drink. “You’ve got some good dance moves.” He complimented. You let out a small laugh.

“Thanks, the really good ones only come out when I’m drinking.” You joked.

“We’ll have to keep them coming your way, then.” He said, placing the new cup in front of you. “There you go, beautiful.” The fire that had died down in Jake reignited as if the bartender had poured a gallon of gasoline on it. You noticed his grip on you tightened, and when you looked up you saw the tension of the muscles in his jaw. Jake grabbed his wallet and pulled out a bill. He threw it on the counter and guided you away before you could respond. You looked up at him, noticing the vibration of anger in his hands.

“Jake, what is going on with you?” You only let him lead you away so far before planting your feet on the ground, forcing him to stop with you. He turned his head towards you, eyes filled with an emotion you had never really seen from him before.

“Me?” He snapped. You recoiled at the harshness of his voice. You could see him soften a bit, but he was still ablaze with whatever he was feeling. “You’re all over Josh up there, and then you flirt with the bartender in front of me and I’m what? Just supposed to sit there and watch?”

“What?” You were certain you couldn’t have given him a look more bewildered than the one you were giving him, then. “Did me dancing with Josh bother you?” He didn’t respond, but his eyes did dart away from you. “Jake, I just… we always dance together. I didn’t really think… I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, no, y/n. I’m sorry.” He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand and pushing his hair back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I know it’s not like that. I’m just in a shitty mood, and I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“We can go home, baby.” You offered, making sure he knew you were okay with that, too.

“No, you’re having a good time. I just need to loosen up a bit, I guess.” He let out a small chuckle, one that was barely noticeable.

“I’d have just as good of a time at home, alone, with you,” you leaned up to his head, lips inches away from his ear “in bed, naked.” His arm around you tightened, pulling you into him slightly.

“Careful,” he warned. You placed a kiss to the sensitive area just below his ear, lingering there for a moment.

“Just so you know, the bartender could only have me in his dreams.” You whispered before you pulled away. “I go home to you, remember?” His lips upturned into a smug smile.

“Get over there and keep drinking,” he ordered “before I have to take you to the bathroom.” The look in his eye led you to believe he wasn’t joking. You felt a blush creep up to your cheeks, taken off guard by the bluntness of the statement. He gave you a wink, subtle enough to go unnoticed, but obvious enough to send a rush of arousal straight to your core. “Don’t get too drunk, though. I’ve got a long night planned for you.” He promised, placing a delicate kiss to the top of your head, as if the words he said weren’t laced with filth.

You joined his brothers back at the booth, both of you sliding in as if nothing happened. Jake resumed his earlier position, slinging an arm around your shoulder. His whole aura was much lighter than it was a few moments before. As the boys divulged into conversation, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to your interaction with Jake. He wasn’t a jealous person; in fact, you couldn’t recall a time off the top of your head where he had been. You’d been dating him for just over five years, knowing him better than anyone else. He could be slightly possessive at times, and even that was rare, but he was never outright jealous. Above all else, he was protective of you. He was always quite comfortable with the fact that you were his, and nobody stood a chance. At the same time, you’d never given him a reason to believe otherwise, because there was none. You were hopelessly in love with Jake, and always had been. To you, no other boy existed in that sense. He was everything you needed, and beyond that. Still, the idea of him radiating with jealousy sparked something inside of you. It was new, intense, and admittedly, very hot.

You shook the thought away, realizing it was not the best time to be thinking about how attractive you thought he was. You were broken from your thoughts when the volume at the table heightened. You looked up to see Sam and Danny locked in an arm-wrestling position. Josh had his hand on his brothers shoulder, encouraging him, while Jake was leaned in to the table slightly, cheering Danny on. You couldn’t help the laughs that you let out, finding the whole scene boyish and amusing. After a few moments of struggle, Danny took the win and pinned Sam’s arm down to the table. Jake let out a triumphant noise, removing his arm from your shoulder to reach across the table and giving Danny a congratulatory high-five.

“Pay up.” he said to Josh, now holding out his hand to his twin. Josh rolled his eyes, but fished his wallet out of his pocket and grabbed a twenty, sliding it across the table. Jake grabbed it, a smug smirk on his lips, and put it in his own. The betting war between the brothers was uncontrollable. They loved to put money on the stupidest of things, and when there was nothing pre-existing to bet on, they made something up. It was never about the dollar amount, more so just bragging rights.

Jake rested against the booth again, the satisfaction of winning giving him some momentary cockiness. Instead of returning his arm around you, he let his hand rest on your thigh under the table. You did your best to keep your expression the same, trying not to focus on the warmth of his palm on your exposed skin. His fingers drifted under your skirt, slowly making their way between your legs. He let his hand rest stop there for a moment, not wanting to push you too much. “So, y/n,” Josh started, catching you off guard. You looked up to meet his eyes. “I think that pool table is calling our name.”

“Rematch from last time?” You joked, raising an eyebrow.

“Redemption is a better word.” He corrected.

“And if I beat you again?”

“You won’t.” He dismissed you, not even considering the possibility. “But, if on some off chance you do, dinner is on me the next time we go out.”

“You said that last time.” You teased. “No originality.” You let out a small tsk. He feigned a look of offence. The conversation was allowing you to take your mind off Jake’s wandering hand.

“Fine, what’s your idea?” He conceded.

“I don’t have a better one, I just like making fun of you.” You shrugged. “Anyone else care to join?” You asked the rest of the table. There was a mutter of agreements and nods. Josh slid out of his seat first, followed by Sam and Danny. Jake was hesitant to move his hand from your leg, holding you there for a moment. You turned your head to look at him, giving him an inquisitive look.

“Better not keep him waiting.” Jake murmured, looking over your face. Your breath caught in your throat as he moved his hand up a little further, fingers inches away from your underwear. “What’s wrong?” He asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Behave yourself, Jacob.” You said, your lips upturned into a smile, too.

“Mhm, careful.” He gave the same warning as earlier. You knew very well that in every sense, he was always going to be in charge when it came to anything bedroom related. Still, it always proved fun to push his buttons. He pulled his hand away, ushering you out of the booth. As you stood, he delivered a quick smack to your ass. You let out a gasp, quickly looking around to see if anyone noticed. When you found you were in the clear, you gave him a glare over your shoulder. “Love you.” He said, smiling in response to your reaction.

Instead of answering, you began to walk away. He made a mental note, ensuring he would get you to say it, later. He followed you as you made your way to the pool table, where you both noticed that your company had picked up some extras. There were three new faces, two girls and a boy. “Ah, thanks for finally deciding to join us!” Sam bellowed as you walked up beside him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, in a very annoying younger brother type of way. You rolled your eyes, attempting to wiggle your way out of his grip.

“Who’s your new friends, Sammy? Had to find some people who don’t know enough about you to make fun of you, yet?” He let you go with a dramatic, but light, push.

“Get out of my face,” he said, a smirk on his lips.

“You love me.” You nudged him with your elbow.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Your eyes turned towards the new faces, taking in the sight. Both girls looked quite similar, and the guy was nothing like the boys you’d come to the bar with. He was tall, had short, blonde hair and bright eyes. “I don’t know their names. Josh started talking to them.” Sam shrugged.

“Figures,” you laughed, knowing all too well how much of a social butterfly he could be. Jake was standing behind you and Sam, opting to stay out of the conversation. Eventually, when Josh caught sight of you, he waved you over. You joined him, allowing him to introduce you to his new friends. The girls were friendly enough, but didn’t particularly stick out as memorable in your mind. The guy was nice, too, but his wandering eyes were very noticeable and very uncomfortable. “Nice to meet you all.” You addressed them all together.

“So, is this your girlfriend?” The guy asked Josh, which produced a booming laugh from both of you. Jake, on the other hand, did not find the question very funny. And he found Josh’s answer even less tasteful.

“A man can dream,” Josh sighed, humour clearly laced in his tone. You smacked his arm, chuckling at the thought. “Unfortunately, just my best friend, my confidante, my partner in crime,” he paused, looking over to you. “Soulmate?”

“Too far,” you warned, but couldn’t help the smile that broke on your face. You knew he was drunk, just by the formulation of his words. The statement itself was nothing out of the ordinary; Josh loved teasing Jake, although he never really managed to bother him with it. That night, though, was an entirely different story. Every word that Josh spoke seemed to piss him off even more.

“So you’re on the market then?” The unfamiliar boy asked. Your eyes widened, shocked at the bluntness of his question. That seemed to be Jake’s breaking point, as he pushed through Danny and Sam to join the conversation. His arm snaked around your waist in an instant, the familiar feeling immediately comforting you.

“Absolutely not.” His tone was firm, but not threatening. When you looked up to see his face, you were certain that if his expression were rewritten in a comic, that would be the scene where smoke was coming from his ears.

“Ah, sister-in-law was probably a good descriptor, too.” Josh said, giggling at his brother. Jake shot him a glare in response.

“Sorry, man. Promise I didn’t mean any harm.” The boy raised his hands in defence, showing Jake he wasn’t trying to start anything. Jake calmed slightly, nodding in understanding.

“I think a game of pool will certainly lighten the mood!” Josh announced, drawing the attention away from the tense moment. He grabbed a cue from the rack on the wall, breaking up the group. The boy who you couldn’t really remember the name of followed Josh, leaving you and Jake to yourselves for a moment. The two girls were chattering amongst themselves, completely uninvolved in the situation.

“Soulmates, eh?” Jake looked down at you, a look of annoyance on his face.

“Jake,” you warned, giving him a pointed look. “If this is because I’m upsetting you in some way, let’s go and talk about it. If it’s just because you’re in a bad mood, quit it.” You told him. You weren’t mad at him, but you weren’t willing to be chastised all night when the root of the issue didn’t even begin with you. He’d never once had an issue with the nature of your’s and Josh’s relationship. The surfacing of his anger on a night where he’d already been upset seemed to be an indication that he wasn’t solely upset at Josh’s words, but more in general. He wasn’t the best at processing his emotions, and tended to direct them at smaller situations to avoid dealing with the main issue.

A note of apology flashed in his eyes at your words. Before he could answer, you broke away from him to grab a cue for yourself. He watched you, feeling a fizzle of regret form in his chest. You weren’t acting any different than any other night, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling from himself. He was too deep into his miserable mood to break out of it, now. He was pulled from his thoughts when Sam called him over to the pool table next to the one you and Josh were playing on.

Josh had started the game, fully keeping your attention on the table rather than Jake’s sour mood. Sam and Jake had started their own game, eventually joined by Danny and one of the girls from Josh’s new posse of friends. The guy had moved on to try his luck with another group of people, clearly only at the bar in attempt to get laid. The second girl was hovering around the other part of your group, watching the game with intensity. You tried not to notice, but every so often her eyes would drift and land on Jake. You shook off the distraction, zoning back in on your own game. You lined up your cue with the cue ball, and shot at a solid ball. It rolled in flawlessly, and you moved on to the next.

“Cheater,” Josh grumbled as he watched your next ball sink, too.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You shrugged.

“Could never hate you, mama. Just strongly dislike you.” He gave you a cheeky smile. You gave him a scoff of disbelief, knowing for certain there was no world to exist where Josh would dislike you, or anyone, for that matter.

When your turn finished, you stepped back to observe his. As he lined up his shot, your eyes drifted over to the table next to you, finding Jake and Sam laughing at a joke one of the girls had spewed out. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look away from Jake’s smiling face, trying not to focus on it. But, in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but think about how that was the happiest he looked all night. As much as you wanted to be annoyed at him for questioning your loyalty, you couldn’t find it within yourself. Yet, anyway. The sight produced more sadness than anything else. You swallowed your insecurity, chalking it up to you overthinking the situation.

The night carried on, the empty glasses piling up by the pool tables, and your inhibitions greatly diminished. You and Jake had silently made the agreement to steer clear of each other in avoidance of a blowout at the bar. You stuck with Josh, bouncing from pool, to darts, and even the dance floor a few times. Jake found himself constantly engrossed in the nameless bimbo that had taken an interest in him. Somewhere between drink seven and double digits, you’d both engaged in undiscussed competition to see who could piss the other off, more. When the clock neared twelve, the karaoke section of the bar opened up. After picking up another beverage at the bar, Josh was pulling you in the direction of the stage.

He put the songs in, shutting down your inquiries and telling you it was a surprise. When you both got on stage and grabbed a mic, Jake was seething before the first note of the song played. “Seriously, Josh?” You laughed as the name of the song flashed across the screen.

“Come on! It was a good choice.” He grinned.

“You’re trying to start shit.” Still, even as you scolded him, his drunken delight was incredibly entertaining.

“He’s being an asshole,” he said, making sure his mouth was away from the mic. “I’m sure he’s trying to do the same thing with her.” His eyes floated in the direction of his twin, who now had his arm hung loosely over the other girls shoulders, similar to his hold on you earlier in the night. Red flashed in your eyes, but instead of lingering, you turned to Josh, no longer worried about the choice of music.

“Let’s give a performance of a lifetime.” Was all you replied. He smiled, happy you were on the same page. You both divulged into the song, very dramatically singing the words to ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ by Elton John.

By the end of the song, you had almost completely forgotten about Jake by the pool table. You weren’t sure if it was because of the liquor in your system, or the sheer amount of fun you were having. You were still a bit breathless by the time Josh’s second choice lit up the screen. This one, although not a duet, was probably one of the most venomous choices he could have made. Mixed between Jake’s love for Jimi Hendrix, how often Jake played it and dedicated the song to you, and the connotation of the lyrics, you were surprised Jake didn’t get up on stage and strangle Josh in retaliation. Your eyes widened, looking over at him in concern.

“He’s been mad at me all day, and he’s taking it out on you. Let him be upset, he’s being a dick.” Josh said, his words assuring you that he would take the heat for the song choice. It felt nice to know that Josh also thought Jake was acting out of character; jealousy had never been in his vocabulary, and the toxic game you found yourselves caught in was something you had never done before. You and Jake had barely had more than an argument in your years of dating. The longer it dragged on, the more painful it became. He had a short temper, but you couldn’t recall a time it had ever been pointed at you, let alone caused a spiteful interaction. As much as it was hurting your feelings, it was fuelling an anger within you that you weren’t sure even existed before that night. The liquor and the sour mood didn’t mix, and you should have known that from the beginning, but had no idea it would divulge into anything close to whatever the current situation was.

By that point, all of the boys had caught on to the tense nature. Sam and Danny were baffled that Jake was even willing to put his focus on another girl, let alone his hands. He was nothing if not loyal to you. Usually, his eyes would never even drift to another girl. Everybody was more than aware that he loved you as much as his music, if not more. They were also very aware that you and Josh were acting out of retaliation, fuelling the fire and hoping to get the last dig in and end it for good. The girl remained quite oblivious to the whole affair, just happy to be receiving some of the attention. Sam let out a long exhale as Josh began to sing you the lyrics to ‘Foxey Lady’, him and Danny certain that this was the brutal climax to the entire night. Jake was vibrating with anger, and there was no consolidation when you’d given up your hesitancy and sang it back to him. Sam and Danny shared a look, silently agreeing that they were going to have to put a stop to the situation one way or another before it got too out of hand.

Jake bargained with his temper, deciding on how to respond. Anger would be too easy, and too obvious. So instead, his course of action was the most disastrous one he could think of. Rationality was completely out the window by that point. He grabbed the girls hand, who he still hadn’t learned the name of (and he didn’t really care, quite frankly), and pulled her towards the dance floor. You didn’t notice at first, too caught up in the singing and laughter you were sharing with Josh. Everyone else did, however, and were awaiting the storm that was brewing. At the height of the song, you finally noticed that Josh had become a bit distracted from the performance. You looked to him, realizing he was staring off at the dance floor, and followed his gaze.

You cut off your singing mid-sentence, your heart plummeting to your stomach. Jake was dancing, in midst of twirling around the girl he’d been using as leverage all night. When he pulled her back in, his hand rested on her hip and he gave her a smile. It was a sickening sight for you. You slipped the mic back onto the stand, cautiously stepping off the stage, and headed straight for the door. You threw back the last of the liquid in your cup and set it on an empty table as you passed by. As the door slammed behind you, tears prickled your eyes and a lump began to form in your throat. At the sound of the door, Jake’s head turned to the stage, finally noticing your disappearance. Panic struck him, realizing he’d definitely taken it too far. He caught Josh’s eye, but wasn’t met with any type of reassurance. He’d won the battle, but at too much of a price.

He cut the dance short, not caring about any formalities, and followed hot on your trail. When he got outside, you were already on your way down the street, far clear of the parking lot. He muttered a curse under his breath, and took off in a jog after you. “Y/n!” He called, but you didn’t turn back. You kept your pace steady, hoping that you could make it home before he caught up. Your shared home wasn’t too far away from the bar, only a few minutes by foot. You thought if you could make it there before him, you could regain yourself a bit more. When he realized you weren’t going to slow down, he ran a little faster.

He managed to catch up, grabbing a hold of your hand to stop you from going any further. You tried to shake out of his grip, not willing to make any conversation with him, but he refused to let go. “What?” You finally snapped, turning to look at him. “What do you want, Jake?” He recoiled slightly, never once hearing you speak to him in that tone.

“I…” he trailed off, eyes wide and unsure of what to do.

“You what?” You asked again, tears still falling from your eyes. “Came to tell me all about your new dance partner? I can go get my shit out of the house and you can move her right in, in my place, if she’s so fantastic!”

“I don’t even know her fucking name, y/n.” Jake rolled his eyes, only fuelling your fire even more.

“That’s the point!” You yelled back, finally freeing your hand from his. “You don’t even fucking know her, and you get up and dance with her. It’s been five years and I can’t even get you to do that with me! One hand, Jacob. I can count on one hand how many times you’ve danced with me. I got tired of hearing no, so I stopped asking!”

“Jesus Christ, all of this over a fucking dance? You were practically fucking Josh all night, and I haven’t said a word about it.”

“That’s a lie, but we’ll unpack that later.” You scoffed. “It’s not about a dance, Jake. It’s about effort.”

“Effort? Like I dont give you my entire heart every day?” You opened your mouth to respond, but closed it and proceeded to turn around and walk away. You weren’t willing to have a screaming match in the middle of the street, especially while he was still mad. If there was one thing you knew about Jake, it was that while he was upset, he had very little rationality. “So you’re just going to walk away?” He snapped. You turned on your heels, giving him the dirtiest look you could muster.

“Get in the fucking house. We can talk there.” You pointed in the direction you were walking in. His eyes held the same emotion as yours, but he obliged, anyway. When you saw him start walking towards you, you turned and walked, too. The few minutes it took to get to the house were uncomfortably silent. When you reached the front porch, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. You flicked off the porch light when Jake made his way into the house, too.

You stormed to the kitchen, discarding your purse on the table and throwing your keys beside it. You did your absolute best to make it up the stairs in a stormy fashion while still wearing your heels. You didn’t have much time to gather a thought, because he was hot on your trail. “So what is it, then? If it’s not ‘just about the dancing’?” He mocked you with air quotes, hiking your temper up even more.

“The small things, Jake. Yeah, we wake up to each other every morning, and I get a kiss goodbye, but the small stuff matters. Like dancing. I love to dance, and the only time I’ve ever gotten to dance with you, I had to practically beg you. You’re with some complete stranger, and that’s what you decide to do to get under my skin? That was really low.”

“So you’re mad that I used it against you while Josh was up there singing my fucking song for you?” He took a step closer, face inches from yours. “You got plenty of dancing in with him tonight, I figured you got it all out of your system.”

“You’re missing the. whole. point.” You annunciated your words carefully. “I was up dancing with Josh because you never would! It hurt me because you won’t do that one simple thing with me, ever, even when you know how happy it makes me! And she got to have it with a snap of her god damn fingers, even if it wasn’t for the right reason. I got to watch you do something with another girl when I have to beg you to give it to me.” You sat on the bed, pulling your foot up onto your knee and messing with the strap on your heel.

“Didn’t seem like you missed me too much, tonight.” You closed your eyes, expelling a long breath to calm yourself down.

“I was only dancing with him because I couldn’t dance with you, Jake. I was only hanging out with him because all you wanted to do was argue with me.” You kept your voice steady, trying not to feed into him. “Do you think I prefer dancing with your brother? Getting asked if I’m his girlfriend, when we’ve been dating for half a decade?” You inquired, still messing with the strap of your heel. He let out a sigh, grabbing your ankle and pulling your foot up to rest on his thigh. He carefully undid the strap of your shoe and slipped it off your foot. He held his hand out, motioning for you to lift your other leg. You gave him a look of confusion in response.

“What? I’m mad at you, it doesn’t mean I don’t fucking love you.” He grumbled. “Give me your other foot!” He ordered, anger still present in his tone. You did as he said, allowing him to free you of your other shoe. When it was off and both of them were discarded in the closet, he resumed the conversation. “Certainly looked like you were enjoying yourself.” He finally replied. “With your… hmmm, what was it?” He asked, placing his fingers on his chin and pretending to ponder the answer. “Oh, yeah! Your confidant, your partner in crime, your soulmate!” He bellowed. “Who can only dream of being your boyfriend!” He let out a mocking sigh, laced with fake dreaminess.

“I don’t understand why tonight, after years of being together, Josh and I’s friendship is bothering you. You think if there was really a problem, you would have said something, oh, I don’t know, years ago?” You stood again, feeling more secure without your shoes on.

“Because you were using him to get under my skin!”

“God, you’re insufferable sometimes!” You shouted, pushing past him to go back downstairs. He was on his game, not letting the sudden movement deter him. He followed you as you walked. “You were doing the exact same thing! And in case you forgot, you were being a dick before we even got to the bar! I gave you ample opportunity to speak up, or go home, or just tell me what was bothering you, but you insisted you were fine and that you wanted to stay. Then she comes around, and all of your issues are suddenly resolved! You’re laughing and joking like you would any other day. All it took was for me to step out of your way for ten minutes.” You grumbled the last part, making your way into the kitchen. You opened the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and cracking the lid. You took a long drink before recapping it and setting it on the counter, just in case he pissed you off enough for you to throw it at him.

“If anything, it just gave you an excuse to be alone with him.” Jake hissed. “It’s not just about the dancing, or the karaoke, or the even the ‘funny’ passes. He looks at you like he’s waiting for me to fuck up, just so he can swoop in and finally have you all to himself. He practically undresses you with his eyes every time you walk in a room. Or maybe because it always seems like he makes you happier than I can. He dances with you, and sings with you, and buys you all of those gifts that he always just seems to know that you want.” You spun on your heels, facing him with a little bit softer of an expression than any of the previous.

“That’s what you’re worried about? You think he makes me happier than you do?” His eyes darted away from you for a moment, likely to avoid letting you know how he was really feeling. “Jesus Christ, Jake, are you blind?” He didn’t answer, causing a resurgence of annoyance in you.

“If I’m the only thing standing in the way of you being with him, go ahead. I’m not stopping you.” He snapped. “He shits on me all day at the studio, then I get to come home and watch him put his hands all over you, my girlfriend, and I’m the bad guy for being upset?” Your vision turned red, infuriated at the thought of him even thinking that. You took a step towards him, your nose practically touching his.

“If you’re so mad at him, why the fuck are you taking it out on me?” You questioned. “I told you, I would have been more than happy at home with you. You know why? Because I fucking love you, you idiot. I could say it a million times, and you wouldn’t care. Because obviously it’s all about Josh, and how I’ve been meticulously planning on using you to get to him for half a decade. Just waiting for the right time to strike, yeah?” You spat. “It doesn’t matter what I say, because no matter what, you’re always right, hmm?” You pushed your finger into his chest, really extenuating your point. “Nobody else in the entire world is allowed to have an opinion, because Jake knows it all! He’s got it all figured out!” He grabbed your wrist, forcing it down to your side and stopping you from prodding at his chest again. You were nose to nose, chests heaving with anger. You weren’t sure if he was going to tell you to get out, or if you were going to leave before he got the chance. You didn’t have a clue as to what was to come next, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to spin you around and push you against the island countertop. He let go of your wrist, grabbing a fistful of your hair instead. He pulled your head back gently, just so your ear was touching his lips.

“Did you like him singing that song for you?” He asked, his voice low and his breath tickling your skin. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal at your new found position. When you didn’t answer, his grip on your hair tightened. “Answer me.”

“Yeah.” You hissed, just for arguments sake. In reality, it was nothing compared to when Jake played it for you. Josh singing it had nothing on when Jake sang it, or hummed the lyrics to you. Josh had nothing on Jake, period, but you were too stubborn to stroke his ego.

“Yeah?” Jake questioned, his knuckles white against the hold on your hair. His hips were pressed into your ass, locking you against the counter indefinitely. “You’d rather go home with him?” He seethed. “Have him take your high heels off, wake up to him every morning?” Your heart was drumming against your chest. You weren’t willing to give in to him, but you also weren’t sure where he was going with his point. When you didn’t answer, he used his free hand to yank your skirt over your ass. His hand graced your exposed skin, the touch almost too gentle to fit with the current situation. After a moment of silence, he lifted his hand and brought it down forcefully, causing you to gasp at the contact. The ring that he adorned on his finger left a sharp sting long after the slap was delivered. “Fucking answer me.”

“N-no,” you stuttered, all of your confidence fleeing you. In place of it, there was a growing arousal between your legs and your tendency to submit to him was showing.

“That changed awfully fast.” He taunted. His hand still rested on your ass, but he’d moved it closer to your hip and held you in a firm grip, instead. You could feel his erection growing against you; the position alone was enough to get him going. “Color.” He barked.

“Green.” You said without hesitation. His fingers hooked into the side of your panties, his fist still anchored in your hair. He took a small step away from you, freeing your underwear from your body and letting them fall to your ankles.

“Since you don’t know how to make up your mind, I’ll do it for you.” He explained. You bit the inside of your lip, not daring to make a peep. “By the time I’m done with you, he won’t even be a thought in that pretty little head of yours.” He dipped his hand between your thighs, spreading them apart slightly. “The only word you’ll be able to say is my fucking name. M’gonna remind you why you come home to me.” His fingers ran through your cunt, getting a feel for the wetness that had already begun to pool. “That sound okay, angel?”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, already knowing the rules to the game.

“Almost don’t want to let you cum. Haven’t been a very good girl for me, have you?” He hummed, spreading your arousal up to your clit. He swirled his finger around it for a moment, producing a whine from your throat. “So needy already. Pathetic.” He noted, applying a bit more pressure to his area of focus. You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the pleasure after hours of torture.

“M’sorry, sir.” You pleaded, knowing it was in your best interest to grovel for a while. “Promise I’ll be good for you from now on.”

“Come on, you expect me to forgive you that easily?” He chuckled. You didn’t respond, only let out a shaky breath when he removed his finger from your clit. “Gonna have to make it up to me, angel. You know that.” You heard him undo his belt buckle, pulling it from the loops on his pants. He set it on the counter cautiously, making you believe its use for the night was not over. He unzipped his zipper and freed himself from his pants in a swift motion. He tugged at your hair, silently telling you he wanted you to turn and face him. You did so, almost breathless at the sight of his face. His hand was still in your hair, pulling your head upwards slightly, making sure you couldn’t look away from him.

You wanted to break character so bad, to kiss him and tell him you were sorry, and that you loved him. You wanted to tell him everything you were too angry to communicate before, but you stayed silent. Instead, you gave an innocent bat of your eyelashes. He leaned down, likely feeling the same way, and pressed his lips to yours. It was sweet at first, but quickly turned needy and sloppy. You reached out for him, pulling him closer by the fabric of his shirt. You thought you would get in trouble for it, but in that moment, he allowed it. The small act satiated his need to feel wanted. You messed with the buttons on his shirt, trying to free him from it. After a few moments of struggle, you managed to slip it off his shoulders. He let go of you only for long enough to rid himself of it, and returned to his previous hold. He broke from the kiss, realizing he’d been far too accommodating for his liking. He raised his eyebrow, as if he expected you to know what he wanted. After a moment, you caught on, luckily just fast enough.

You sunk down to your knees, now eye level with his exposed cock. He still had his hand in your hair, holding it out of the way for you. You reached up, wrapping your hand around him before lowering your mouth to the tip and slowly bringing him into your mouth. You started slow, working yourself up to speed. He didn’t push you; as dominant as he was during sex, he was always hyper-aware of your comfortability. After a few moments, you started to hear a few curses fall from his lips. It gave you the encouragement to take him further, relaxing your jaw and your throat as you pushed your head down on him.

“Fuck, baby.” He sighed, unable to hold back his words anymore. You hummed against him, continuing your pace. Soon after, he tightened his fist in your hair, holding your head in place. He thrusted forward into your mouth, keeping a steady rhythm with his hips. You tried your best to keep yourself relaxed, making it easier for you to continue on. “Doing so good, sweetheart.” He groaned. The praise sent a shiver down your spine, your excitement for what was to come next was debilitating.

He sped his movements a bit more, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each re-entry. You felt tears from in the corner of your eyes, unsure how long you could keep up with him. But, you were more determined to please him than anything else, because it always meant you’d receive a fantastic reward. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, feeling too good to even look down at your face. As the tears rolled down your cheeks, you felt yourself gag, throat constricting against him.

His cock twitched in your mouth, bringing him back to reality for a moment. He pulled back, completely removing himself from you. “Should just cum in your mouth and leave you here like this.” He theorized, trying to attain his earlier tone of voice but failing. His chest was heaving with every breath, eyes glazed with lust. He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him, and he didn’t have the willpower to walk away from you, now. “You wouldn’t like that, would you?” He asked, his hand falling from your hair to your face, using his thumb to wipe away a few stray tears.

“No, sir.” You answered, finally regaining yourself a bit.

“I know, baby.” He sighed, realizing he could likely get off just by watching you looking at him that way. “Couldn’t do that to you. You know that.” You nodded, grateful he drew that conclusion. “Stand up for me.” You did as he said, raising slowly and ensuring you had your balance, not wanting to topple over. He brought you into a kiss, hands pulling at your shirt. If he knew you didn’t care, he would have ripped it off of you. He managed to free it from your upper half, pulling out of the kiss to bring it over your head. “No bra?” He inquired, fingers trailing over your now exposed torso. He brought his thumb to your hardened nipple, running the pad over it before pinching it between his fingers. You let out a gasp at the suddenness of his actions. “Such a little whore.” He quickly took his hand and swiped away any items littering the island. Your eyes widened at the action, watching as papers and books tumbled to the floor. He didn’t react, only placed his palms just below your ass, lifting you up onto the counter.

The cold countertop took you as a shock, causing you to tense for a moment. “Only for you.” You finally replied, watching him as he anchored your skirt above your hips.

“Didn’t seem that way tonight.” He muttered, forcefully shoving your legs apart. He took a step back for a minute, admiring the obscene display he’d left you in. You rolled your eyes.

“Jake-“ he cut you off with his eyes, his glare louder than any words he could speak.

“Kind of humiliating, isn’t it? When everybody at the bar thinks Josh gets to take you home, thinks he gets to see you like this?” He asked, not advancing any closer to you. You didn’t answer, just watched him. “How do you think that makes me feel? Watching you run around like a whore with my brother, begging him for attention?” Your face flushed at his words, embarrassed at the degradation.

“M’sorry, Jake.” You mumbled, not daring to move, in hopes of keeping him in good spirits.

“Are you? Or are you just saying it to get what you want?” He pried.

“I mean it.” You finally looked up to meet his eyes. He barely acknowledged your words before speaking again.

“Because you’re mine. You do know that, right?” You gave him a nod. “Nobody else gets to see you like this, ever. Nobody else gets to see how pretty you look when you’re desperate to be fucked.” He gave a small smirk, grabbing one of the chairs and pulling it over to him. He positioned it directly in front of you, taking a seat on it. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach, having an idea about what he was planning. He leaned against the back of it, never letting his eyes leave you. “You know that, right?” He pressed.

“Yes, sir.” You affirmed.

“Show me, then.”

“W-what?” You stuttered, wanting clarification.

“Touch yourself. M’gonna watch. You’re going to show me all of the parts of you only I get to see.” He ordered. You didn’t move right away, wondering if he was serious. “Do you have a problem with that?” His tone was condescending and his gaze was burning into you.

“N-no, sir.” You shook your head.

“Good.” He raised his palm to his face, spitting on it. He lowered his hand to his cock, stroking himself as he waited for you to start. “I don’t have all day, angel.” He stated, almost sounding bored. You broke out of your shock, bracing one hand behind you to hold yourself up and lowering your other hand to your heat. You gathered your arousal, slowly running your fingers through your cunt, really giving him a show. You saw his jaw clench as he drew in a long breath, silently telling you he approved of your actions. “If you’re gonna act like a whore, you’re gonna get treated like one.” He explained, eyes laser focused on your fingers. “You love the attention so much, so I’ll give it to you. But you’ve gotta work for it, and you better not cum unless I say you can.”

“Yes, sir.” You let your fingers trail up to your clit, rubbing small circles. Your breath hitched in your throat, pleasure stemming from the sensation, but also from the sight of him touching himself. You had no idea how he could ever doubt your love for him, because you were hopelessly and utterly infatuated with him. Every movement, or word, or expression always made your heart flutter. He was perfect, and nobody in the world could ever compare to him. You applied a bit more pressure, letting your head fall back at the feeling. A quiet moan escaped your lips, hitting him with force. He closed his eyes, trying to stop himself from getting up and fucking you right then and there.

You lifted your hand that was supporting you and leaned back on your elbow, instead, giving him a better view. You brought your hand to your breast, the pad of your thumb drifting over your nipple while you touched yourself at the same time. You really wanted to give him a show, part of it being because it was a show of an apology, and the other part being quite selfish. You knew that the faster you gave him what he wanted, the more likely he was to get you off. Your eyes drifted back to him, settling on his face and soaking up every bit of his expression. He had a scowl, and his jaw was hard set. His eyes were almost feral looking, and he was watching you intently. His hand was wrapped around himself, slowly but steadily moving. It was just enough to get a bit of relief. You could tell he wanted to save his stamina for when he finally decided to fuck you.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” He ordered.

“You, Jake.” You sighed, another groan escaping your mouth. His breath caught in his throat at the sound of you saying his name like that.

“Mhm,” he made a noise of confirmation “You better be.”

“I am,” you promised, catching his gaze. “Only you.” Your steady pace mixed with you being incredibly turned on was causing a knot to form in the pit of your stomach. He knew you well enough to pick up on it by your expression alone.

“Don’t.” He warned. You gave him a pleading look, hoping he’d have a bit of mercy on you. In response, he only shook his head. You let out a whine, slowing your movements to hold on a little longer. You felt the pressure ease, relief crossing your face. “So you can listen,” he noted. “Good job, baby.” The praise was heavenly, washing over you with a warm embrace. You knew he couldn’t keep up with the current situation for much longer; he was eager to get his hands on you again. He didn’t have to say it aloud for you to know that. You took a break from your clit, slipping your hand down a bit further.

You slipped your middle and ring finger inside you, making sure to keep your eyes on him, wanting to see his reaction. You gave him an innocent smile, setting him on fire. You slowly pumped the digit into yourself, clamping down on your bottom lip with your teeth and letting out a sigh of pleasure. You couldn’t keep your eyes on him for very long, equating it to torture in your mind. You only had to work at yourself for a moment, riling him up faster by the second. “God, I wish it was you touching me, instead, Jake.” You whined, eyelids fluttering closed for a second.

It was almost like you flipped a switch; suddenly, the sultry looks and lust-filled noises drove him over the edge. He stood, almost knocking the chair over as he did so, and advanced towards you. His hand found the back of your neck, pulling you up to meet his lips. There was no gentle nature to be found, just volatile desire that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. Once he’d fulfilled his need to kiss you, both of his hands grabbed you by the hips and roughly brought you to the edge of the island. He grabbed your wrist, abruptly moving your hand to your side. He replaced it with his own, fingers gathering your arousal and pushing inside you. He let his thumb slide up to your bundle of nerves, brushing it over the sensitive area every time he pumped his fingers into you. You were over the moon at the new found contact, although abrupt. You were trying to wrap your head around the rapid change while welcoming it at the same time.

“F-fuck, Jake.” You moaned, letting the weight of your head fall back into his hand.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” He whispered, trying to cover his own tone of neediness. He didn’t need a verbal answer to his question; your expression was more than enough. As much as he was dominant, he was also a giver. Knowing he was making you feel good was more than enough to satisfy him. Watching you was great, but it was nothing compared to him being the reason behind your pleasure. His fingers curled upwards ever so slightly, hitting that spot inside you he knew all too well. “How fast can you cum for me, angel?”

“I-i don’t..” you trailed off, only focused on the feeling of his hands working magic on you.

“You don’t what?” He asked. You could hear the smirk in his voice without even looking at him. “Make it quick, before I change my mind.” He leaned down, making you lean back, too. He pulled one of your nipples into his mouth, gently grazing his teeth over it. You hated to admit that he already had you teetering on the edge. After years of practice, he knew you well enough to know exactly what to do. An expert of sorts, if you had to label it. You reached a hand out, grabbing on to his bicep for support while your other one was anchored on the countertop. You had already pushed yourself to the edge once, and it wasn’t hard for him to get you back there.

“Jake, m’gonna cum.” You announced. His pace didn’t change, only encouraging you further. It was embarrassing at how fast he could bring you to an orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Come on.” His voice was low, only audible due to how close he was to you. He said it like he needed it, too. It only took the small push from him to send you into your first orgasm. Your legs were shaking, your arm barely holding you up. You barely managed his name through the mess of vulgar noises that came from your mouth. Instead of coaxing you through your orgasm, his movements never tapered. By the time you were coming down from the high, the overstimulation had already started to take over.

“Jake!” You gasped, unable to free yourself from his grip.

“You’re fine.” He said, a hint of venom still in his tone. Your eyes were screwed shut, the unpleasant feeling starting to drive you insane. He noticed the look of discomfort on your face, questioning himself for a moment. “Color.” He whispered, the act completely out the window. His thumb was still working over your clit, just with less pressure.

“Green.” You hissed, knowing deep down that you could handle it. You knew the reward after was worth the moment of discomfort. He wasn’t sure if he believed you, so he gave you another chance to speak up. “Green.” You said again, noticing he was holding back a bit. At the assurance, he continued working at you. The feeling was intense, but you coached yourself through it, and eventually, the knot in your belly tightened once more, although not fully covering the uncomfortable sensation the movements were producing. When your next orgasm tore through you, it was powerful enough to make you lose the strength in your arms. If not for Jake holding you up, you would have fallen backwards. When you relaxed against him, he slowly withdrew his hand from you. Your chest was heaving, sweat glistening on you, and your face was flushed. He took in the sight, letting the picture burn a memory in his brain.

He only let you recover for a moment before ridding himself of his pants completely and sinking to his knees. You let out a groan, barely back to earth from his previous actions. His eyes looked up to you, wordlessly checking to see if you were ready to keep going. He didn’t speak again, but placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs. Just when you relaxed into him, thinking maybe he’d gotten his fill of being an asshole, he let his teeth sink into the sensitive skin. You jumped slightly at the sudden feeling, not expecting it. He continued on, barely aware of your reaction, and sucked a few marks into you. By the time he’d worked himself up to your cunt, you had surpassed your overstimulation, and quickly became eager for him to continue on.

“You want it, don’t you?” He teased, mouth only inches away from your heat.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

“How bad?” His eyes flickered up to your face again. Your lips turned downward, almost into a frown.

“You want me to beg for you?” You questioned, not realizing how challenging your tone sounded. His eyes turned stony, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“Thought you said you wanted me, angel?” He pulled back slightly. You felt your stomach sink, hoping you hadn’t made too much of a mistake.

“I do, Jake. I’m sorry.” You rushed out.

“Then fucking tell me how bad you want it.” His scowl had returned, his order clearly stating that he wasn’t in the mood for any argument. You realized it was less about dominance, and more about him needing to hear the words, needing to feel needed. You reached down, placing your hand on his cheek and letting your thumb run over the soft skin.

“So bad, Jake. I need you.” You whispered. Involuntarily, he leaned into the touch. You could feel his rigidness soften, almost immediately calmed by the feeling of your hand on him. “Please.” You gave him a look of desire, softening your features. “I want it so bad, I’ll do anything. Only you can make me feel this good.” That seemed to be exactly what he needed to hear. He didn’t make you work any harder for it; before you were even finished your sentence, his mouth was on you. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, holding on to him while his tongue ran through you. You let out a sigh of pleasure when he focused on your clit. His fingers sunk into your skin, holding you as if he was scared you were going to get away, sure to leave marks in the morning. He was working at you as if he starved, cautious as to not miss out on a second of the experience.

You were unable to contain any of your moans, giving him exactly what he wanted to hear from you. You’re tugged at the roots of his hair, another way of letting him know how good he was making you feel. He pulled back from you for a moment, moving his thumb in place of his tongue. “Does that feel good, baby?”

“So good, Jake.” You struggled to get the words out, too caught up in the moment.

“Don’t be shy. I wanna hear all of those pretty noises.” He ordered. He didn’t let you respond, already having his tongue take over again. He slipped his index and middle finger back inside you, adding the extra bit of stimulation for you. He was determined to fulfil his earlier promise; he wanted you so fucked out that he was the only thing you could think of. Little to his knowledge, he didn’t have to do much for that to be true. He was always at the front of your mind, wiggling his way into every thought and action. This part was just a bonus for you.

In retaliation to his statement, you decided to up your game a bit; if he wanted to hear noises, you were more than willing to give it to him. The moans and curses you let out were pornographic, sure to be heard by the neighbours if they listened hard enough.

You could tell he was enjoying himself, too, humming against you and taking in sharp breaths when a sound he particularly liked was heard.

His fingers curled upwards in just the right way, causing you to give an involuntary tug on his his hair. He only used it at motivation, ensuring to repeat the same action with each movement. His skills at guitar had paid off fantastically for you in the bedroom. “Fuck,” you groaned, feeling the familiar pressure build once more. “God, please don’t stop, Jake. Feels so good.” You whined, letting your head fall back in ecstasy. He took the praise to heart, making sure to keep his movements steady. He was focusing on keeping his hand and tongue at the same speed, wanting to allow you to get the most of the pleasure. It didn’t take much longer for you to come undone, gripping at his hair and uttering curses. He only eased up when you started to come down, taking the opportunity to get a good look at you. Your eyeliner was beginning to run, and your lipstick was smudged. Your hair was messy and your eyelids were heavy as you looked down to meet his gaze. He had to admire your beauty even in the disarray. He thought you were the most beautiful thing that ever walked the earth.

He removed his fingers, standing in an instant. He took hold of your hips again, pulling you as close to the edge of the table as he could. Your head was still spinning as he used his hand to line himself up with your entrance. He had no more willpower to wait any longer. You both let out a sigh of relief when he pushed himself inside of you, the feeling intensified by the lingering sensitivity of your last orgasm. The position was a bit awkward, making it hard for him to move, but it didn’t bother either of you very much. The intimacy was what you craved, and it was giving you just that. He brought one of his hands to your face, letting his thumb trail over your bottom lip. You parted your lips, pulling the digit into your mouth and lightly suctioning your cheeks around it. He let out a long exhale through his nose, the tail end of it sounding more like a growl produced from his chest. He slowly moved his hips, rocking into you agonizingly slow. You opted to just enjoy it while it lasted, knowing the gentle nature would be out the window soon.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, a small pop sounding as he did so. His hand drifted towards your neck, fingers ghosting over your skin. His thrusts didn’t speed, but did get more forceful. You couldn’t help but let out a gasp as the tip of his cock brushed your cervix, sending a jolt of pleasurable pain through you. “Just like that, baby?” He asked, eyes boring into you. His fingers tightened slightly on your neck, leaving you to believe his concerned inquiry was a bit misleading. “Does that feel good?” You hooked your leg around his waist, drawing him even closer. It gave him the answer he was looking for, although nonverbal. “Such a dirty little whore.” He hummed, clearly pleased by your action. “Is this all you wanted? To get fucked?” His eyes scanned your face, the flame still dancing in his pupils. “Didn’t matter whose bed you were in, as long as there was a cock inside you?” His fingers tightened again, finally enough pressure to restrict the blood flow. “Or did want to go home with him?”

He knew you were unable to answer; he was talking to himself, and taunting you in the process. He knew the minute he took his hand away from your neck, you’d be talking back, and he wasn’t particularly fond of that idea. He leaned in, lips hovering over your ear as he fucked into you. He knew he’d have to release his hold on you soon; he may have been willing to degrade you, a few slaps or spankings, but never seriously harm you. He didn’t want you to fear he would, either. “You think he’d fuck you like this? Make you feel this good?” He whispered, breath hot and tone gravelly. He clamped down on your neck tighter once more, completely restricting any blood or airflow. He felt you let out a pointless, choked gasp, not getting anything from it. He bit down on your earlobe, one final move before he loosened his hand. You let in a long, desperate breath, filling your lungs as much as you could. You coughed, sputtering for a moment at the sudden burst of oxygen. He let his fingers gently massage the area he’d just assaulted, wanting you to know without breaking character that he was, in fact, just acting. His head was still down by your ear, scared if he looked up he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from cumming.

You were agitated from his words, feeling the bratty part of you start to surface once more. If he was so willing to talk down on you, you weren’t afraid to give it back. You hadn’t fully thought out the whole thing, only depending on your bruised feelings for clarity. “Don’t be so cocky. You call this fucking?” You challenged, voice was still raspy from his hand around your throat. He stiffened, pulling back from you as if you’d burned him.

“What did you say?” His hips stopped, too. His expression was feral, and his body tense.

“What, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” A smirk was playing on your lips. “If you’re not going to do it right, I can go call-“ your sentence was cut short by his palm retracting from your throat and colliding with your cheek, throwing your head to the side. It caught you completely off guard; your train of thought disappearing and his body language now anything but loving. Admittedly, he’d hit you a bit harder than intended, but he was in no state of mind to cater to you. Without so much as an utter of concern, he pulled out of you roughly grabbed your hips, yanking you off the table and onto your feet.

You didn’t have time to process the change before he spun you around. His hand found your hair and he forced your upper half down onto the countertop. He wasn’t gentle with his touch, shoving your face into the table until your cheek was squished against the wood. He took in the sight, your skirt still pushed up to your bellybutton. In a rash decision reliant on emotion, he grabbed a fistful of the bunched up fabric and gave a hard pull, busting it at the seams and ripping it from your body. He could buy you another to make up for it, he decided. Now less concerned about the sex, and more worried about your favourite skirt, you opened your mouth to protest. “Jake-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Your time for talking was over; you’d pushed him just a bit too far. He let the now torn clothing fall to the floor, grabbing his belt from beside you. He maneuvered it so it was folded in half, all whilst still holding you to the table. “You think he could do a better job?” He seethed, running the cold leather across your bare ass. When you didn’t respond, he lifted the belt and brought it down with force, causing a sharp sound and a lasting sting. “Do you really think anybody could?” His hand in your hair tightened, driving your cheek even harder into the table. He had no care for your comfortability, now. “I should just leave you here, make you get yourself off, instead, since I’m not doing it right. Would you like that?”

“N-no,” you squeaked, mentally preparing for another blow. Just as you expected, another searing sensation spread across your backside, causing you to jump.

“If you want him so bad, then go. But don’t think for a second he can give you half of what I can.” You could hear the sneer in his voice. “Do you understand me?” You weren’t sure if he wanted you to answer, or if it was rhetorical. When the belt flashed across your skin the third time, it was made clear he wanted a verbal confirmation. “I said, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes, sir.” Tears were spilling onto your cheeks, teeth grinding at the pain from the leather. But, you had pushed him, and you were more than aware of the consequences when you misbehaved.

“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again.” His tone dropped, less authority and more finality. You heard the belt fall to the floor, followed immediately by him lining himself up with you. There was no adjustment period before he pushed himself into you again, taking no mercy with the power behind his hips. You let out a yelp when he slammed into your cervix, but he was in no hurry to ask if you were okay. You had no time to recover before he repeated the same action.

His hips were moving at a brutal pace, all of the anger from the night being let out at once and building up to a dramatic climax. He was still holding your hair, never easing up on the weight of his hand holding you down. His other hand was holding your hip, keeping you in place while he fucked you. There was no ability to keep yourself quiet; the sounds falling from your lips were obscene, pleasure bordering pain creating a whole new feeling. He pulled your hips back a bit, giving more space between your legs and the edge of the table. He slipped his hand around to the front of you, fingers finding your clit with expert precision.

“How’s this? Good enough for you?” He growled. You couldn’t find the words to respond, eyes squeezed shut as all of the stimulation acted together to bring you to the brink of insanity. His finger danced over your already sensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing another orgasm out of you almost effortlessly. He was almost smiling at the noises you were making, arrogant enough to know how good he was making you feel.

“F-fuck, Jake,” you managed out, some form of confirmation that you heard his words.

“What’s wrong?” He tormented, voice wavering slightly at his rapid movements. “You asked for it, now you can’t handle it?” He showed no signs of slowing down or easing up; he was determined to prove a point, now, and he wasn’t backing down. He heard a familiar moan fall from your lips, your walls tightening against him slightly as you did so. He knew you were close, and it was only encouraging him further. Within a few seconds, you were caught up in another orgasm, all of your muscles tense and your throat coarse from crying out his name. You couldn’t allow yourself to relax as you came down, his hips nor his fingers letting up.

“Jake, please, I can’t.” You pleaded.

“You can, and you will.” He dismissed you, fully aware of the state you were in. He could see the tears staining your skin, your mascara fully running down your face. Your cheeks were red, burning with heat, and sweat glistening on your forehead. “Color.”

“Green, fuck!” You expelled, frustrated with your own unwillingness to give in. Every nerve in your body was on fire, begging you to stop, or take a break, but you were still enjoying yourself. You knew he was, too, and that was most of your motivation. He continued as if there was no question asked in the first place, never easing up on your clit, either. You were on the brink of screams, desperately trying to contain the moans ripping from your chest.

“You gonna give me another one, angel?” He asked, venom still present in his tone. You knew he wasn’t being so generous with orgasms for your sake, it was solely a personal agenda for him to prove a point. You were completely unwilling to cum for him again, but his fingers were forcing your body to betray you. He knew it, too, only allowing the cockiness to grow. “You ready to admit it, now? You want to tell me the truth?” He hissed, eyes never leaving your face. Before you could reply, the pressure in your belly peaked once more. He’d successfully forced another orgasm from you, letting the pride settle in his bones. Before you fully came down, he was already lifting your upper body off of the table so you were standing. He was aware of your lack of strength, assuring he was holding you tight enough so you wouldn’t fall over.

He pulled out of you, still supporting you with his arm, and turned you around. You were exhausted, completely at his disposal. You weren’t the least but worried, knowing he would take care of you; if you said the word, he’d stop immediately. “Arms around me.” He told you, a little gentler than his earlier orders. You obeyed, snaking your arms around his neck. His hands fell to your ass, lifting you up in one swift motion. You wrapped your legs around him, almost as if it were muscle memory. He carried you over to the wall, pressing your back into it. As much as he enjoyed the accessibility of the last position, the simplicity of doing whatever he pleased to you, he wanted to see your face. He kept one hand firm on your ass, holding you up, and guided himself back inside you with his other. The position change had given you a minute to calm down, just as he was hoping it would. He rested there for a moment, not making any further advances.

“Look at me.” He snapped. You lifted your eyes, barely keeping them open, and met his gaze. His expression was hard, but no longer malicious. He couldn’t find it in himself to stay angry with you; the sight of your face so close to his was enough to immediately soften his heart. “I want to hear you say it, angel.” He whispered, stare burning into you. “Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.”

“You are, Jake.” You breathed, unable to lie about it and risk any more punishment. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody could replace you.” Your voice was quiet, all of your energy completely drained. But, you were speaking from the heart, and he could tell. He leaned in, resting his forehead on yours. Slowly, he started rocking his hips into you again. The feeling was so much different, now. His movements careful, filled with love. He’d proved his point beyond intention, and he was well aware of it. All of the anger was gone, and he just wanted to be close to you, now.

“You’re mine, baby. You know that.” He hummed. “Nobody else even gets to think about you, like this.”

“M’yours, Jake. All yours.” You promised, hoping he’d lean forward just enough so you could kiss him. “I don’t want anyone else.” Your fight was gone, now, not as if there was a lot there in the first place. Your back talk seemed to hurt him a little more than intended, and all you wanted was to make up for it.

“I know, honey.” He assured you. “Me, too.” His sincerity was staggering, the softness of those two words were the most profound vulnerability he’d ever shown during sex. You felt like you were seeing right through him. “Gonna take care of you, now. Okay?” You managed a nod, filled with relief when he leaned forward to connect his mouth with yours. You tangled your fingers in the hair at the base of his head, holding him to you. You didn’t want him to pull back, savouring the loving gesture as if your life depended on it. The sensation of him fucking into you so carefully while he was kissing you was more euphoric than anything else you’d felt that night. Not often did you get slow sex with Jake, and it was just as phenomenal, if not more. Something about the emotion, the complete transparency, was unmatched.

“I love you,” you mumbled against his lips, causing his fingers to tighten on you. He pulled back slightly, just enough space between your mouths to speak.

“Fuck, y/n, say it again.” He ordered, but it sounded more like a plea.

“I love you, Jake. So much.” You groaned, losing yourself to the feeling of him inside you. You were sure there was nothing that could feel better than that.

“I love you, y/n.” He closed his eyes, jaw clenching as he rode through the blissful proclamation. You could tell he was close, and you were eager for him to get there. “God, you feel so good.” You let your hand come up to his cheek, holding his face while your thumb drifted over the soft skin. “Can you cum for me one more time?” You nodded as best you could with his forehead against yours.

“Just kiss me, please.” He didn’t need to be asked twice, his lips were on yours again in an instant. You kissed him with a hunger that could only be satisfied by him. He picked up his pace a bit, silently begging you to cum, just so he could, too. He had been holding himself back for long enough that it had started to become painful. He pulled you down on him every time he thrusted, just for a little more impact. That was enough for you; with the added pressure, he reached the spot inside you that only he could. Your legs tightened around him and your fingers grasped at him, letting him know you were there again. He pulled back, wanting the full view this time. Your head fell backwards against the wall, eyes closed in pleasure. You breathed his name between moans, finding it impossible to think of anything but him as your final orgasm washed over you.

At the sound of his name spoken so beautifully, and the sight of your blissful expression, he couldn’t help but lose himself to the feeling, too. He pulled you down on him one last time, holding you there as he spilled his release into you. He slumped over, pressing you further into the wall and letting his head rest in the crook of your neck. He was breathless, completely overpowered by euphoria. He didn’t withdraw right away, wanting to savour the moment of intimacy with you. Nothing but heavy breathing sounded through the kitchen, both of you chest to chest and feeling your heartbeats against each other. He turned his head inwards towards your neck, placing a few kisses into it. He left a few light marks, just as a final reminder of the entire night.

“You okay?” He asked, still resting his head on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” He murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too.” He finally pulled back from you, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Bath?” He asked. You nodded, giving him a small smile. He carried you to the bathroom carefully, not pulling out of you yet in avoidance of a mess. Once you were in the bathroom, he withdrew and let you get cleaned up. He flicked on the faucet for the bathtub, letting the warm water run before closing the drain stopper. He grabbed your package of makeup wipes pulling a few out and setting it back on the counter. “C’mere.” He whispered. You turned towards him, leaning into his hand reaching for you. He gently wiped at the smudged makeup, cleaning you up as best he could. He discarded the dirty wipes in the trash and placed a kiss on your lips.

By the time he finished, the bathtub was full and more than ready for the both of you. He flipped off the faucet, helping you in first. As you settled in, he couldn’t help but notice the marks littering your thighs and ass. He felt a sinking feeling of regret, checking your face for where he’d slapped you. It was red, slightly irritated, but seemed as though it would fade away soon. There was a small welt on your cheek from where his ring sat on his finger. He got in, too, settling behind you and pulling you into him. The warm water soothed your aching muscles, allowing you to fully relax into his hold. With your back pressed against him, you were fully surrounded in comfort. You rested your head against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. After a moment, he lifted his hand to your cheek, fingers gently running over the inflamed area.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He said, lips turned down into a frown. “I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.”

“I’m okay.” You promised, turning your head and placing a kiss to his thumb. “Let’s just… never do that again. The sex was great, but I don’t like fighting with you. I also really didn’t like whatever we were doing at the bar… it was gross and childish.”

“I agree. No girl in the world deserve the time of day, especially when I have you to come home to. I started the whole thing. I know you and Josh would never do that to me. You guys really weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, I was just in a shitty mood.”

“Yeah, but I knew you were upset. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I was being an asshole, and I really shouldn’t have let him sing that song. I knew it was a bad idea when I saw it come up on the screen.”

“You didn’t pick it?” He asked, fingers still caressing the spot on your face where he’d slapped you.

“No, of course not, Jake. I was mad at you, but I’d never go that far.” His stomach sank.

“I’m sorry I danced with her. I knew it would hurt you, and it was wrong. I shouldn’t have assumed you would do that, either.”

“That did hurt me, a lot.” You admitted, feeling no need to lie about it. “You’ve never really been jealous before. Where the hell did that come from?”

“I don’t know.” He was honest. “I was mad at Josh all day, and when I saw you guys being so nice to each other and dancing to those songs, especially while I was so upset…I guess it just felt like he made you shine a little brighter than I did, tonight. I feel like I dim your light, sometimes.” He mumbled the last part, almost afraid to admit it out loud. You felt your heart break at his words.

“Jake, Josh is my best friend. My brother. Of course I have fun with him, but that’s all it is. Yeah, I love him, but I’ve never once felt that kind of love for him. I’m in love with you. You don’t have to make me shine all of the time, because you complete me. You can’t always make me shine brighter, especially when you’re the one who ignited the flame in the first place.” He had one arm snaked under yours, lazily strewn across your torso just under your chest. He used that arm to pull you closer to him, still letting his fingers dance over your cheek.

“I love you.” He sighed. “I never want to do that again, either. It was so stupid. I never want to hurt you like that again.” He placed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll never be able to say I’m sorry enough to make up for it.”

“I’m sorry, too. If me being so close with Josh makes you feel that way, I can take a step back. You’re the most important person to me, no matter what.”

“No, baby. Never bothered me before, I guess I just felt a bit forgotten about. Got in my own head, and instead of talking to you about it, I tried to make you feel the same way. Next time, I promise I’ll talk to you. You’re my most important person, too. Seeing that look on your face when you left the bar made me realize how easy I could lose you, and I never want that to happen.”

“Guess we learned our lesson, then, ‘cause I really don’t want to lose you, either.” You laced your fingers through his, running your thumb over the back of his hand.

“The sex was fantastic, though.” He chuckled after a moment of silence. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too bad. I got a little to caught up in the moment.”

“I’m okay,” you laughed. “Maybe a bit sore, but it was my own fault. Shouldn’t have talked back like that.”

“You were being bratty, weren’t you?” He pondered back to the earlier scene in the kitchen.

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean it. Just wanted to get under your skin.” You giggled, sinking a bit lower into the water.

“I know, beautiful. You did a good job at it, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah, my ass knows it, too.” You grumbled. He laughed, leaning down and peppering a few kisses over your shoulders. You melted into the touch, happy to have things back to normal.

“Hey, y/n?” He asked, lips still drifting over your skin.

“Hmm?” You hummed, eyes closed in peacefulness.

“I don’t want you to stop dancing with Josh. But I do think that maybe I wouldn’t mind dancing with you, too, if that’s okay.” He whispered. A smile broke onto your lips at his words.

“That’s more than okay, Jake.” He dropped his other arm, wrapping it around you, too. He pulled you into a hug, love completely surrounding you, now. “I love you.”

“I love you, angel. God, I’ll dance with you every day for the rest of my life if it means I get to have you like this.” He sighed. “I was stupid for not wanting to, before. I can sacrifice a little embarrassment to get a smile on that pretty face of yours.” You couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Don’t have to do that to make me smile, baby. You know that. You can have me like this for the rest of your life even if you don’t dance with me.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind it. I’d do anything to make you happy.” You almost rolled your eyes at the statement. He said it as if he didn’t do that already.

“You already give me the world, Jacob. What more could you do to make me happy?”

“I’ll stop when I can give you the universe, instead of just the world.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll buy you a new skirt and take you out tomorrow night, make up for everything. Wear your best shoes, cause you won’t be able to get away from the dance floor.” A smile grew on your lips, too.

“Can’t wait.” And you meant it. Not just for the dancing, or a night out, or the promise of a replacement skirt for the one he’d destroyed. You couldn’t wait simply because you were excited to be with him. You were certain you could live the rest of your life deprived of all modern comfort, but if Jake was by your side, you’d be the happiest person to have ever lived.

[universalistotalis]

Beautiful Temptation

Suna Rintarou (Haikyuu! Timeskip x Reader)

Masterlist!

Hello! I’m kinda back after a long time! This has been saved in my drafts for so long too, I just had to share it with you all! Hope you give our dear Suna some love! x

!!!Minors do not interact!!!

Warnings: nsfw, language

WC: 930



Suna Rintarou was intoxicated by you. He may have had his fifth drink of the night in his hands but he has been drinking you in ever since you entered the room. And now, he was dizzy.

The alcohol wasn’t kicking in yet, no. The visual of your plump, cute, little figure prancing inside the bar was driving him fucking insane. Never did he think he’d see you wear that short of a dress being so cool and laid back, when at work, you kept everything professional. As he got to know you, he admired you for your work etiquette and quirky personality that he wished, prayed even, that you would swoon for him like all the other women around you. Even just a little…



His eyes were watching you like a hawk all night, memorizing the way you laughed and the way you crumpled your face at every shot you took. He didn’t want to acknowledge it, but he was so whipped, it was unbelievable.



“Let’s goooo!” One of your friends shouted and your group went to the dance floor to have more fun.



He was about to lose his goddamn mind at this point. His pants got tighter at the view of your hips dancing to the blasting beat of the song. Albeit shyly, but damn! He swore he tried his best to look away, it was for your AND his own sake.



But fuck it! Your dress was riding up your thigh and he was already shaking at the amount of soft flesh you were flashing him with.



“Shit.” He cursed your name underneath his breath. You were such a temptation to endure but he didn’t have the strength to fight his feelings tonight. So with one big gulp of his liquid courage, he walked straight to you.



The hand on your hip came as a surprise. You’ve heard stories about this from your friends but it startled you nonetheless. This was your first time partying and you never thought someone would do such a thing. And as you turned around, you never could have thought who had the audacity to lay a finger on you.



“Suna!” Your voice squeaked.



“Hey there, sunshine. Fancy seeing you here.” He smirked, stepping closer and leaning into your ear.



It wasn’t fair how beautiful Suna Rintaro is. You tried your best to always keep your composure around him but sometimes, it was an impossible task. The flashing lights casted highlights and shadows on his pretty face and each time, he seems more irresistible than ever. His smirk never wavered and his touch ignited a fire deep within your soul. And if that wasn’t enough, he sent a wink your way.



You were burning at this point, ready to fucking combust at any moment. Your breath hitched but you recovered quickly and returned his friendliness with a smile. And it may not look like it but that was enough to make him deranged.



“W-what are you doing here?” You stuttered as he took a step closer.



He shrugged his shoulders. “Same as you? I just wanted to have a good time.”



You wanted to wipe the stupid foxy smile on his handsome face. It was ridiculous, the things that he was making you feel. He was so tall and the way his body was dancing to the beat, so graceful and suave, was making you water in the mouth.



Get yourself together!



“Do you come here often?” You asked, breathless, still dazed, running out of things to say.



“No.” He replied, taking your hand as you both swayed to the music. His arm extended upwards, probing you to do a twirl and you did. But as your back faced him, he took the chance of catching your hips and connecting yours with his front. “I’m glad that I’m here the same time as you, though. Aren’t I a lucky guy?”



Hairs on the back of your neck stood up as he breathed on your nape. His lips ghosted on your skin and his hands squeezed at the plush of your waist. You couldn’t help but sigh at his actions, surprised at how good the electricity felt. You leaned further into him, allowing him to give you a full embrace, his warmth encasing your being. It was almost comforting until you felt the wet and stinging sensation of his teeth, his tongue, and his mouth on your neck. He then sucked unapologetically and there was nothing you could do but extend and expose everything you had for him.



“Hmm, you like that, sweetheart?” He chuckled, not missing the hitch on your breath. His hands didn’t waste a second of pushing you more onto him, losing all sanity at your proximity. “God, fuck! You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you. I can’t keep hiding myself from you any longer.”



His whispers were so aggressive, mimicking his death grip on your skin. His hips bucked and pushed harder onto your ass making his bulge known.



You have never felt so wanton! This was so wrong yet so right! Your head was swimming from all the new sensations that he brings. And it doesn’t help that you wanted him to death too! This was what your fantasies were made of! Him touching you in places for you to reach euphoria…



“Fuck.” You cursed, softly as you felt his fingers swiftly touch your breasts.



He chuckled, the sound vibrating on your back. “Oh, baby, what I’d give to hear you scream that for me.”



A whimper left you again as he turned you around to face him. “Please, go home with me tonight, angel. I promise to take care of you.”



“S-suna, I—“



“Please.” He pleaded, kissing your forehead. “Please, I need you so bad.”



You licked your lips, not knowing what to say. “I-i’ve never done this before.” You whispered and stuttered.



Suna tucked your hair behind your ears and gave you a sincere smile as he said your name. “No need to worry about that, I’ve got you. I swear I’ll take such good care of you… if you’ll let me.”



With your lips almost touching, you lost all inhibitions.



So you nodded and agreed to his beautiful temptation.

—

Masterlist!



HAVE YALL SEEN THAT MAN IN THE FUTURE GODDAMN! I AM SEATED SIR!

had to repost this just because :( hope you enjoyed and lmk whatcha think! <3

[supernaturalscribe67]

T-Shot

Words: 8,204

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Castiel x Trans!FTM!Reader

Warning(s): Language, Needles, Description of testosterone injection, slight angst if you squint, hurt/comfort, description of afab anatomy (use of the word 'clit' once), fluff, Castiel not understanding social cues

Summary: The reader has started his journey with testosterone, and his boyfriend, Castiel, promises to be with him every step of the way. What Castiel didn't realize was that the testosterone would change (Y/N) more than he realized.

Request:

Hi I was just wondering if you could do a Sam or even Cas fic (romantic) where reader is trans FTM and also asexual. Where the reader starts testosterone and sam or cas helps them with the new changes. You can just have fun with it. Make it a sad a bit too but end with a happy note :)

Anonymous

A/N: Someone please come and take this pen away from me. This fic was only supposed to be, about, 3k words, I don't know how it turned into my longest fic. I hope you guys enjoy! Feedback is much appreciated!

~Much Love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

As he descended the bunker steps, the paper bag crinkled in (Y/N)’s hands. It was the best sound he had ever heard in his entire life. For, in that very bag, was the key to achieving everything he had dreamed of and more, allowing him to get one step closer to the person he was destined to be. And it all came in a little glass vial.

(Y/N) looked in the library but found it empty, so he walked down the hallway to his bedroom. His steps were rapid, anxious, yet excited. When he entered, he saw Castiel on his bed, who sat up. The movement of the door startled him, but he was quick to recover. (Y/N) flashed a small smirk his way.

“Hey,” he greeted and closed the door behind him.

“You’re back,” Castiel stated and stood from his spot on the bed. He took a couple of steps closer to him. “How did it go?”

(Y/N) held up the bag. “I got it.” His smile widened.

Castiel matched his grin as he stepped even closer. He reached a hand up to cup (Y/N)’s cheek and gave him a soft peck on the lips. “I’m glad to hear that it went well. When are you scheduled to take your first dose?”

“Well, the doc said I can take it anytime I want to start. I just have to make sure to keep it spread out to a dosage every week. So, today’s, what? Wednesday? I’ll be taking them every Wednesday from now on. Preferably at night. Easier for me to keep track that way.”

Castiel nodded as he listened intently to everything (Y/N) told him. “I see. When will you plan on taking it tonight?” He tilted his head to the side. 

“I was going to wait until after supper, but I’m too excited to wait.”

“May I watch you?”

“Of course, babe,” he said before he walked past Castiel and over to his bed.

(Y/N) sat the bag down before he took his shoes off, kicking them to the side. He then unbuckled his belt and let his jeans fall to the floor with a light clink. He stood in nothing but his boxers and t-shirt. He would have taken his binder off to make himself even more comfortable, but he was so focused on getting the medicine in his body that he didn’t even consider it an inconvenience. As (Y/N) sat on the bed, he beckoned Castiel over and patted the spot next to him. Castiel followed his instructions and sat down, his hands folded between his knees. He watched with great concentration as (Y/N) grabbed the paper bag and ripped it open. Inside the bag was a long, rectangular box, two different sets of needles, four syringes, alcohol wipes, and band-aids. Castiel studied the supplies curiously.

“This is everything I’ll need for the month. I have my testosterone, the bigger needles to extract it, the 23-gauge needles to inject it, syringes, alcohol wipes for sterilizing my skin and the surface of the vial, and cute little cat band-aids for when I’m done.” (Y/N) explained, showing Castiel all of the supplies as he talked.

Castiel paid close attention. He examined everything presented to him, taking in as many details as he could. He picked up the small box and opened it. The vial dropped into his hand when he tilted it to the side. His eyes narrowed as he examined the clear content. As he moved his hand back and forth, he watched the solution swish around inside.

“This is what you put into your body to change yourself?” He asked.

“Yep. It may not seem like much, but once it kicks in, you’ll start to see the differences.”

(Y/N) grabbed the box of alcohol wipes and opened them up. He grabbed two from the pack; one for the injection location and the other for the vial. He set the unopened packs beside him and did the same with one of the band-aids. The needles soon followed, one of each being placed beside him, each of their packages opened to allow easy access when he went to switch them out. Next, was the syringe. It, too, stayed in the sterile plastic, but was opened for easy access. He then turned to Castiel and held out his hand. Castiel carefully placed the vial in his hand, and the process began.

(Y/N) grabbed the syringe and connected the larger needle to the end of it. He set that to the side and grabbed one of the alcohol wipes, ripping the corner of the packet with his teeth. Using the wipe, he cleaned off the top of the vial. He disposed of the wipe and grabbed the needles and syringe. The needle was uncapped, and he could feel the nerves bubble inside of him. He pulled the plunger of the syringe, allowing air to collect inside. The doctor said it would make for a more accurate extraction. With caution and precision, he injected the needle into the cap, tilted the vial upwards, and took out the dosage prescribed. The mere sight of the testosterone dripping into the syringe sent euphoria coursing through his body. 

With the extraction completed, he replaced the needle with the 23-gauge. He took a deep breath to steady himself, took out the other alcohol wipe, and disinfected the area on the top of his thigh. 

“Alright, the moment of truth,” he mumbled.

Using one hand to grasp the flesh of his upper thigh, (Y/N) gently guided the needle to his skin. The initial prick shocked his muscles a bit, as he wasn’t aware of how tense he had been. They were tight, and he knew he had to focus on relaxing them, otherwise it would hurt worse than it was supposed to. He didn’t stop pushing it in until the needle was fully in his thigh, the base of the needle almost flush against his skin. Once it was sheathed inside of him, his thumb shifted to the plunger and he began the injection. It wasn’t much - the doctor explained that the first couple of dosages would be smaller until they got a good sense of how his body was reacting to the medication - but it felt as if it took an eternity before the syringe was empty. When he was done, he, carefully, pulled out the needle. A small dot of blood mixed with testosterone appeared on top of his leg. He capped the needle and set it off to the side before he grabbed the bandage and placed it over the blood. 

He stared at the band-aid for a moment - it came in a cheap pack of twelve and had a blurred image of two kittens cuddling on it - before he looked up at Castiel.

“I did it,” he smiled brightly. “I just got my first t-shot.”

Castiel’s eyes shifted to (Y/N)’s and he mirrored his smile. He took a second to look over his features. Slowly, his expression shifted from joy to slight confusion. “You don’t look different.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “It takes some people a couple of months to notice any physical changes. It’s not magic. Wish it was,” he mumbled. “That’s why I need to do it every week, so it stays in my system and makes the changes.”

“Ah,” Castiel nodded. “Well, I’m proud of you, (Y/N),” he took his hand in his.

(Y/N) furrowed his brows. “For poking myself with a needle?”

Castiel shook his head. “You told me that getting your testosterone was going to be your biggest step in your journey of self-discovery so far. I’m proud that you were brave enough to take this step to become the person you’ve been destined to become.” Castiel reached up and gently cupped (Y/N)’s cheeks.

As cliche as it was, (Y/N) could feel his heart skip a beat. Ever since he told Castiel about wanting to start testosterone, he had been nothing but supportive. He always expressed that he wanted (Y/N) to live the life he wanted to live and that he would be by his side for the best and the worst of it. (Y/N) got lucky enough to have a partner like Castiel. It was as if he came right out of a dream. For that, he would always be grateful.

(Y/N) reached up and brushed his fingers against Castiel’s knuckles. “I love you, forever and always.”

“I love you, too. Forever and always.” Castiel replied, leaned in, and kissed him softly.

*~*

“Holy shit, this pizza is so good,” (Y/N) mumbled as he shoved the rest of the crust into his mouth, stuffing his cheeks full.

Sam and Dean gave him a questioning stare as he ate, their bites slow and methodical compared to his. Castiel, on the other hand, stared at him with an intense look of concern. It had been a little over a month since (Y/N) started testosterone and, while there hadn’t been many noticeable physical changes, there was one thing that everyone took notice of almost immediately; his intense change of appetite. 

Man, could that boy eat.

It wasn’t the fact that he served himself more during meals, either. If he wasn’t eating a meal, he was snacking. He snacked on chips, candy, fruits, vegetables, sandwiches, you name it. Anything that could be placed in a pantry or fridge had been eaten by (Y/N). Dean couldn’t even count on one hand the amount of times he had gotten on him for eating in the car, only to get a stern glare from both him and his boyfriend. Castiel hadn’t been too sure why (Y/N) began to eat as much as he had been. When he asked about it, (Y/N) simply told him that it was because of the testosterone, but didn’t give many details other than that. It left Castiel with a lot of questions that sat in the back of his mind, curious about the other aspects of testosterone that caused non-physical changes to occur.

(Y/N) reached for another slice, hesitated, and then grabbed the last two slices.

“Hungry?” Dean asked with a quirked brow.

“Starving,” (Y/N) mumbled, his mouth still recovering from his last bite.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked. “That’s, at least, your fifth and sixth slices.”

“Sam’s right, (Y/N). You’ve been eating a lot recently. Are you sure you’re alright?” Castiel asked warily, placing a hand on (Y/N)’s knee, rubbing it comfortingly.

(Y/N) chuckled. “I’m fine, babe,” he said, cheekful of food. “It’s just the testosterone. It makes me really, really hungry.”

Castiel flashed him another concerned look, despite the nod and small smile he gave. (Y/N) noticed his hesitancy and he flashed him a closed mouth smile. He placed his hand on top of his, swallowed his food, leaned over, and placed a small peck on the corner of Castiel’s lips. 

“I’m fine, babe, I promise.” He said as he looked into his eyes. 

Castiel studied his expression for a moment before he smiled again, one that was more genuine. “Alright.”

(Y/N) nodded briefly. “Okay, I’m going to the bathroom,” he said before he pointed at Sam and Dean. “Don’t touch my pizza.” The threat dripped from his lips. 

Sam and Dean raised their brows and watched as (Y/N) stood from the table, his eyes still piercing their souls as he left the room. Dean shook his head and took another bite of his food. Castiel glanced over at (Y/N)’s plate, then cast his gaze down to the table. His hands were on his knees, and he rubbed them tightly. Sam, noticing the distraught on his face, cocked his head in curiosity.

“What’s up, Cas?” he asked, placing his food back onto his plate. He folded his arms on the table.

Castiel gazed up at him for a moment before he shook his head. “I’m just worried about (Y/N). He doesn’t normally act like this.”

Sam gave him a sympathetic smile. “It’s a pretty big change, the testosterone. It’s as if he’s going through puberty all over again.”

“Sam’s right,” Dean chimed in, some pizza sauce and spittle peaking out of the corner of his full mouth. “Sammy ate like a pig when he hit puberty.”

“Not helping,” Sam deadpanned. “It’s just a side effect of the drug. It won’t last forever.”

“That’s what he told me, but I didn’t think it would change him like that.”

Sam chuckled. “Trust me, you’ve just scratched the surface of the side effects. It’ll be an interesting journey, to say the least.”

That comment didn’t seem to ease Castiel’s worry, which Sam took notice of. He sighed.

“Tell you what,” he dug into his pocket and took out his phone. “I have a couple of articles regarding the side effects of testosterone. Keep in mind, not everyone goes through the same experience, though, and not in the same order as others, either, but I can send them to you so you can at least have an idea of what (Y/N) could go through.”

Castiel nodded. “Thank you, Sam. That would put my mind at ease.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Dean shrugged as he chewed the last bite of his pizza. He brushed the crumbs off of his hands. “So the kid has a bottomless stomach, who cares? The only bad thing about it is that he steals all the damn food! I didn’t even get a chance to have more,” he gestured to the empty, grease-filled pizza box in the center of the table.

Sam rolled his eyes. “You’ll live,” he mumbled.

Dean looked over at (Y/N)’s plate, eying the single intact slice. It was obvious that the gears in his head were turning.

“Dean,” Castiel said in a deep tone of warning.

“What!?” He held out his hands dramatically. “I’m hungry.” Dean paused, eyes still glued on the food. Casually, he reached over and grabbed the uneaten slice. He brought it to his face and was about to take a bite when a loud, booming voice echoed throughout the kitchen.

“Drop it!” (Y/N) shouted.

Dean visibly jumped, eyes wide as he turned to see (Y/N) in the doorway, eyes laced with red fury. He quickly put the pizza back onto (Y/N)’s plate, got up from the table, plate in hand, and walked swiftly over to the sink. Sam snorted and took a bite of his food as (Y/N) stalked over to the table. He glared daggers into the back of Dean’s head. If looks could kill, Dean would have been dead…again. (Y/N) sat back down. 

“Asshole,” (Y/N) grumbled under his breath, picked up one of the slices, and took another bite.

*~*

Every fiber of his being was sore. Grave digging was not for the weak, and that was exactly how (Y/N) felt after the salt and burn. The three of them came out of the hunt with some minor scrapes and bruises that were certain to go away on their own over time. Injury-wise, he was fine, but his muscles screamed in pain and agony as he moved from the Impala to the motel room door. They begged for relief in the arms of a hot shower, but he knew his blessings were limited. The pain, however, wasn’t the only thing he noticed during the aftermath of the hunt. Once the adrenaline wore off and his senses finally came back to him, there was one crucial detail he had failed to take notice of before then.

(Y/N) smelled horrible.

It wasn’t as if he had gotten blood or guts on himself during the hunt. All he did was sweat. He knew there would be some changes in the way his body odor smelled, but, in no way would he have assumed it would be as pungent and foul as it was. He even made sure to layer on the deodorant during his pre-hunt preparation as an extra precaution, but it was all to no avail.

“I call first shower,” (Y/N) said as Dean took the room key out and unlocked the door. “Have I always smelled this bad?”

Dean scoffed. “I was going to offer you the first shower, anyway. You smell awful. I was going to say something earlier, but I figured Sammy would yell at me or something.”

The three of them entered the room, welcomed to the sight of Castiel laid back on his and (Y/N)’s shared bed. He sat up, eyes immediately scanning over their bodies, taking in all of their details for any sign of injury. Sam shook his head and walked over to his duffel bag that lay on the floor next to the opposite bed.

“Yeah, ‘cause you would have probably been a dick about it,” he retorted.

“I would not!” Dean exclaimed as he strode to his bag.

“No, please, be a dick about it. I wanna know for the next time.” (Y/N) shook his head and retrieved some night clothes from his duffel.

“What would Dean have been a dick about?” Castiel asked, head tilted slightly to the side.

“About telling me if I smell.” (Y/N) answered.

Castiel furrowed his brows. “I thought it was considered rude to tell people they smell bad.”

“Yeah, random people. Dean’s my friend, though, and friends help each other like that. They tell you if you smell or look bad to save you from embarrassment in public.”

“Does that apply to myself as well?”

(Y/N) smirked. “Yes, Cas, it does.”

“So, should I inform you of the red and white spots that you have on your face?”

(Y/N)’s smirk vanished and was replaced by a deep frown. Wordlessly, he walked past Castiel and to the bathroom. The dim light illuminated the poorly decorated room, the vent whirring to life. He stood in front of the basin and studied himself in the mirror. Upon closer inspection, (Y/N) gaped. Accompanying the blotches of dirt scattered around his face were red, angry zits. There were some across his cheeks, some on his forehead, and a giant, ready-to-pop whitehead on his chin. Castiel made his way over and placed his hand on the doorframe.

“Is everything alright, (Y/N)?” Castiel asked cautiously.

“No! Everything’s not okay!” (Y/N) whined and squeezed past his boyfriend so he could point an accusatory finger at Sam and Dean. “Some fucking friends you are! First, you don’t tell me that I smell bad, and now I find you didn’t tell me that my face looks like it lost a fight with a pizza!?”

“(Y/N), plenty of adults have acne. I didn’t think it was a big deal,” Sam defended himself.

Dean pursed his lips. “I thought Sam would yell at me.” He shrugged.

Sam shot Dean a glare and (Y/N) sighed.

“I went out as an agent like this.” He complained.

“You look fine,” Sam said.

“Fine? I look like I got out of a five-hour Leave of Legends session and drank Mountain Dew nonstop! That mixed with my voice sounding like I’m going to beg my mom for the new Fortnite Battlepass doesn’t necessarily scream agent.”

Sam and Dean both held in their laughter as they looked away. (Y/N) shook his head. 

“I’m so glad you two find this funny,” he grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest.

Castiel came over and placed a hand gently on his waist. “(Y/N)?”

(Y/N) turned his gaze to Castiel, absentmindedly leaning against him. “Yeah?”

“Despite the marks on your face, I still think you are the most handsome man I have laid eyes on.” He offered a soft, sweet smile.

(Y/N) stared at him and took a deep breath, lips pursed. Slowly, a smile crept onto the corner of his lips.

“You always know what to say to make me feel better.” He said, leaned up, and kissed Castiel on the lips.

“Ew!” Dean exclaimed as he picked up one of his pillows and chucked it at the couple. “Get a room!”

*~*

Another day but, fortunately, not another hunt. It had been a month since the group had been able to rest from the copious amount of cases available, and they were taking advantage of it. They deserved a small vacation. (Y/N) and Castiel spent quality time together in the man cave, curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over their laps. A movie that (Y/N) had practically begged Castiel to watch played on the television. Castiel was laid back against the arm of the couch, his arm draped around (Y/N)’s middle so he could hold him close. A bowl of popcorn, coated deliciously in butter, sat between them.

“I don’t understand the conflict that the two storm-chasing teams have with one another. What happened to cause the rift in their relationship?” Castiel asked, eyes glued to the screen.

(Y/N) shrugged. “Honestly, they don’t go into detail about why they’re against one another. I wish they did,” 

Castiel hummed and went back to watching the film. A couple of minutes went by before the sound of footsteps came closer to the room. Dean poked his head into the door. He looked at the TV and then down at the couple.

“Hey,” he said.

(Y/N) glanced at him, grabbed the remote, and paused the movie. “Yeah?”

“I’m heading out on a supply run. Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m good, thanks,”

“Alright, I’ll be back in a bit,” Dean moved away from the door and began to make his way down the hall.

(Y/N) watched the doorway intently as he listened to the footsteps disappear into the distance. “Can you do me a favor, babe?” 

“Of course,” Castiel said, his attention fully on (Y/N). “What is it?”

“When Dean comes back, can you distract him?”

Castiel furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“I might, and I’m saying might, have played a prank on Dean that he’s not going to be too happy about.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, you know how, recently, I’ve stopped having my period?”

“Yes?”

“I had a lot of tampons and pads left over, and I didn’t necessarily want them to go to waste. So, I figured, what better way to get rid of them than to prank Dean with them.”

“How would you prank Dean with menstrual cycle products?”

(Y/N) bit his lip, anticipation filling his chest. He practically counted down the seconds, awaiting Dean’s imminent return. His muscles were tense, and the urge to run began to rise inside of him.

“Let’s just say Baby has some new decorations.”

“(Y/N)!” Dean’s voice echoed throughout the bunker.

Castiel’s head whipped toward the door, then immediately returned to (Y/N). “I’ll distract him.”

“God, I love you,” (Y/N) planted a kiss on Castiel’s cheek. “Bye!”

Without a second to lose, he threw the blanket off of him and dashed out of the room as quickly as his legs would allow. 

*~*

(Y/N)’s jaw dropped in a massive yawn. The mere sight of his bed made him want to collapse, but he knew he would hate himself in the morning if he didn’t change into something more comfortable beforehand. Castiel was sat at the end of the bed, loving gaze attached to (Y/N) as he went over to the dresser to get dressed. He was practically on autopilot as he moved, grabbed an oversized t-shirt and a pair of night pants, and proceeded to undress. However, something stopped him in his tracks as he took his binder off. His head was cast down, studying his chest intently. 

Castiel had witnessed that many times before; a dysphoric episode. There had been times when (Y/N) would sit and question himself about his appearance, whether out loud or mentally. Castiel would always take the time to remind him of how handsome he thought he was. How perfect he was. The progress he had made with testosterone. How in love with him he was. That moment, though, seemed different. Castiel stood from the bed and walked over to him.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” He asked softly. 

(Y/N) glanced up at him before his attention shifted to the full-body mirror that rested beside the dresser. He tilted his body so the light from his bedside table illuminated his naked torso. In the warm light, he was able to get a better look at his chest. He smiled.

“Cas! Look,” he gestured to the mirror. 

Castiel stepped closer to him, gaze locked on the mirror. He paid close attention to his chest to see what had caused the sudden happiness in his partner. The presence of smaller hairs scattered precariously around his upper torso was evident in the light. When he glanced up at (Y/N), he noticed that the smile that had been on his face had somehow widened. 

“My chest hairs finally came in! I thought it was gonna take, at least, a couple more months.”

Castiel grinned. “That’s wonderful, (Y/N).” He studied the hairs more closely. “Will they continue to grow?”

“Probably. They should grow a lot thicker, and maybe a little bit longer.”

Castiel stared at him with adoration. Wordlessly, he reached up, cupped (Y/N)’s cheeks, and kissed him. (Y/N) raised his brows, but immediately returned the kiss. The kiss was long and light, filled with love. When Castiel pulled back, (Y/N) slowly opened his eyes. 

“What was that for?” He asked quietly, reaching a hand up to caress Castiel’s.

Castiel hesitated before he let out a sigh. “Admittedly, I was rather nervous about this whole process at first. I was unsure of what would happen and how it would affect you. I never want to see you hurt. However, I see how happy you are when you see yourself now. The negative thoughts you used to have about yourself diminished greatly, and you’re even more handsome than when we first met. I’ve come to realize that my love for you can, indeed, grow stronger, and it does so every day.”

(Y/N) could feel his heart and chest swell. If he was in a cartoon, he swore his pupils would turn into hearts.

“I love you, too, Cas,” He said softly as he wrapped his arms around his waist and laid his head against his chest. “More than you’ll ever know.”

*~*

(Y/N) had been in bed for three hours. Within the past week, he had started to experience bottom growth. Although he was excited to be able to start that part of his transition, to fully feel like his body was conforming to the person he was, he had to admit that the pain was more intense than he had originally anticipated. It wasn’t a constant pain, but when it arose, it felt like a dull, throbbing pain mixed with the sensation of a thousand needles simultaneously stabbing his clit. Painkillers worked for the first couple of days, but the relief gradually faded as the pain became more intense. No matter which way he sat down, stood, or laid down, nothing could dull the ache.

He had done some research on different forums about bottom growth, and he found that only a small - minuscule would be a more accurate word - amount of transmen experience full-on pain during bottom growth. So few that there was barely any information on how to relieve the pain. He could only assume that those people saw the thousands of comments claiming no one would have pain that they were too afraid to post about their own experience. He cursed himself for being so unlucky. His transition had been going so well. Of course there would be a hiccup. That was just his luck.

Perhaps it was similar to that of period cramps. Perhaps the intense pain would only last a while before it went away. Perhaps he was kidding himself. That he was the only transman to experience that level of discomfort. Perhaps that was just karma for thinking he could be a real man.

Fuck that. If pain was what it took to be a man, he was prepared to endure it, even if it killed him.

The icepack had turned warm and no longer provided relief. He had his eyes closed, head tilted back into the pillow, his fingers tangled tightly into his hair. A hiss passed his clenched teeth as another sharp pain attacked his nerves. As the pain slowly subsided, there was a light rasp on the door.

“Come in,” he groaned. 

The door opened a crack. Castiel poked his head into the room before he stepped inside. A worried look was prominent on his face as he closed the door and moved closer to the bed. 

“(Y/N), are you alright? Sam and Dean told me you’ve been in here for quite some time.” He asked, taking a seat next to him.

(Y/N) inhaled sharply as the dip of the bed caused discomfort to shoot between his legs. Castiel glanced between (Y/N)’s legs and his eyes.

“No, I’m not okay,” (Y/N) whined. “I started bottom growth and it hurts like Hell. I’m tired and hungry, but the aches are so bad that I don’t want to get up or go to sleep. I just want it all to pass,” 

Tears brimmed in the corners of his eyes as he ran his hand down his face. Castiel’s feeling of worry only intensified as he saw how (Y/N) had been affected. He shifted in his spot.

“(Y/N), I don’t like seeing you like this. Let me heal you,” he pleaded with him as he reached his index and middle finger towards his forehead.

(Y/N)’s eyes grew wide and he snatched Castiel’s wrist before he could be touched.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled, eyes narrowed and words dripped in venom.

Castiel raised his brows, taken aback by the tone of voice that was used. It was the first time (Y/N) had ever spoken to him like that.

“(Y/N), please, I can see how much you’re hurting. Let me take care of you.”

“No! Because I don’t know what your stupid angel juice will do to me. I’ve worked so hard to get where I’m at,” his voice was strained, broken.

“I just want you to be happy again.”

“I am happy!” (Y/N)’s loud voice echoed off the walls of the room as he sat up quickly.

He instantly regretted his movement when a painful shockwave struck his nerves. He clenched his jaw, cupped his crotch, and laid on his side, his back to Castiel. Castiel reached over to comfort him, but his hand was roughly shoved away. (Y/N) paid no mind to the expression of hurt Castiel had.

“I fought with myself my entire life to figure out who I am, and I fought even harder to get to where I am right now. If being in pain will turn me into the man I want to be, then so be it. Your father already made one mistake by putting me in the wrong body. I’m not going to sit here and let you reverse the progress I’ve made to finally fix his fuck-up.”

“(Y/N)-”

“No! I don’t want to hear it. Now get out.”

Castiel froze, surprised by the demand. It had been a while since he saw (Y/N) so angry, and the last time wasn’t even directed toward him. He never raised his voice at Castiel. Sure, they had their spats here and there, as most couples do, but they never shouted at one another. They knew how to talk about their problems, work through them, and discuss the way that they felt, something a decent amount of relationships lack. This was a whole new experience for Castiel.

He hated it.

At first, he contemplated talking to (Y/N) again. Try to convince him to take his offer to heal him. He hated seeing his partner in such a painful state, the same as at the end of any hunt. Castiel’s first instinct would be to heal him. To make the pain go away. To be able to see the smile he adored so much, which was hidden by the layers of agony he was experiencing. Alas, in the end, he decided against it. Instead, he opted to follow (Y/N)’s wants. He stood slowly, and quietly, from his spot on the bed and walked over to the door. His eyes never left (Y/N), his mind performing one last battle with itself, the urge to speak overwhelming. He held the desire back as he opened the door and left the room.

*~*

The library was quiet. Sam and Dean sat on either side of one of the tables, Sam with a pile of books laid out in front of him and Dean with his laptop and a small bowl of snacks. The occasional sound of pages being turned and the mouse pad click filled the room. Aside from the occasional small talk, they said nothing. Castiel entered the room, and their attention turned to him.

“Hey Cas,” Dean greeted.

“Hey Cas, how is he?” Sam followed up.

Castiel walked over to the table and sat down to the left of Dean. A sigh escaped his lips as he slouched in the seat, his folded hands resting on his stomach. He had a visibly defeated look on his face as he took some time to answer Sam’s question.

“He is in a lot of pain. I attempted to heal him, but he wouldn’t let me. He got upset with me and kicked me out of the room. I’ve never seen him so angry before.” Castiel shook his head.

Sam and Dean stared at him for quite some time.

“You tried to heal him?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” Castiel confirmed. “He is in a lot of pain. I am certain I can make it go away.”

“Cas, he doesn’t want to be healed,” Sam said.

“I realize that, Sam.”

“No, I don’t think you do. I can tell you’re still upset about the whole thing. What (Y/N) is going through right now is a normal part of the transition. Granted, he has it a Hell of a lot worse than most, but, that’s why we called you. We thought you would be able to come over and comfort him.”

“I thought healing him would be comforting. It was supposed to make him feel better. To get him back to normal.”

“See? ‘Back to normal’. Don’t you see how that can be misconstrued?”

Castiel looked at him curiously. “I do not.”

“Well, what you see as something to be healed, (Y/N) doesn’t. He’s very proud of the pain he’s in. He views it as an accomplishment. To heal him and take that pain away, it would be as if you’re stripping him of that achievement.”

“Sam’s right,” Dean chimed in. “When he first noticed the bottom growth, he came to us saying, ‘Guys! Guys! I have a dick now!’.” Dean mocked with a smile, causing Sam and Castiel to grin as well. “And then, when the pain started, and we began to get worried, he would say, ‘It hurts like Hell, but I still have a dick’. He was still happy about it, even though it hurt.”

Castiel nodded, considering their words. “I see,” he trailed. “I know that this was a big deal for (Y/N), but I didn’t comprehend why he was willing to go through the pain. I understand, now, that it’s because he’s finally happy with himself and the progress he has made. The way I worded my concern for his wellbeing made it appear as if I wanted to reverse the work he has done.”

“Exactly!” Sam nodded.

“I would never want that, though. (Y/N) appears to be in the best mindset I have ever seen him in, and I wouldn’t want to jeopardize that. I would never reverse the progress, even if I could.”

“We understand that. We know how much you love him-”

“Yeah, it’s kind of gross,” Dean mumbled.

Sam sighed. “As I was saying, we know how much you love him, and we recognize you would never say or do anything to threaten that progress, but when someone is in a lot of pain, they don’t always think clearly. Take Dean for example. When I have to stitch him up after a hunt, he says some pretty mean shit to me, but he never means it.”

“At least that’s what I let him think,” Dean whispered to Castiel just loud enough for Sam to hear.

Sam ran his fingers through his hair. “Dean, you’re not helping.”

“Sorry,” Dean cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair.

“(Y/N) is still head-over-heels in love with you.” Sam turned back to Castiel. “Pain can just make us say some stupid stuff. It would probably be best to give each other some space right now, think about what we discussed, and talk to one another tomorrow.”

“I think that is a good idea,” Castiel said as he stood from the table and brushed off his trenchcoat. “Will you keep me informed on how he is throughout the day?”

“Of course, man, yeah,” Sam smiled up at him, which Castiel was quick to return.

“Thank you. I will be on my way, then.”

“Where are you going?”

“To retrieve some of (Y/N)’s favorite treats to give to him. I’m hoping that might make him feel better.”

Sam’s smile widened. “That’s a good idea.”

*~*

It took (Y/N) over two hours to be able to fall asleep. The pain hadn’t been constant, but with how exhausted he was and the tears burning in the corner of his eyes, all he could do was lay there and think. He couldn’t believe the audacity that Castiel had to ask if he wanted to be healed. Scratch that. Castiel hadn’t even asked if he wanted it. He had simply told (Y/N) that he was going to heal him. He didn’t need that, though. He didn’t need to be fixed. (Y/N) was perfect the way he was, even if some things still needed to be tweaked. Nothing about him was broken. Therefore, nothing needed to be fixed.

Perhaps he was overthinking Castiel’s intentions. Truly, he never meant what (Y/N) interpreted it as, right? Castiel loved (Y/N), even though his physical attributes were changing, right? Of course, he did, otherwise, he wouldn’t have practically begged to heal him. Right?

With the image of Castiel’s pain-filled eyes in his mind, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of guilt swell in his stomach. 

He had never snapped at Castiel before. He didn’t think Castiel deserved it. Especially now. All he had tried to do was make him feel better - in Castiel’s own way - and (Y/N) took the anger he had for the pain out on him. How could he do that to him? The shame was eating him up inside. There wasn’t much he could do, though. The aches and pains made any desire to move or speak vanish. He knew he had to apologize, to make things right, but it would have to wait until he felt better. 

Eventually, after another round of pain, (Y/N) could feel the exhaustion wash over him. His eyelids slid shut, and it didn’t take long for slumber to come.

*~*

The pain was more bearable when he awoke. It was more of a dull throb rather than needle-like stabbing. He was able to move around with mild discomfort. Even though he was more mobile, the exhaustion from the day before was still very much present, despite the hours of sleep he had gotten. The desire to crawl into his bed once more was intense. Thankfully, the lack of a hunt made that possible. So, as soon as he awoke, he got up, grabbed himself a water bottle, painkillers, and snacks, and retreated to his room.

While the pain had subsided substantially, his thoughts were clearer than before. He was able to think back to the spat he had with Castiel in greater detail and understanding. With a mind free of any pain-influenced thoughts, he felt even more guilty than he had before he slept. The hurt he had seen in Castiel’s eyes was practically burned into his soul. The only other time Castiel had looked at him with those eyes was when he was on the brink of death after a hunt gone wrong. He never wanted to be the cause for that look. He shouldn’t have snapped. Not at Castiel. Never at Castiel.

As he lay in bed, he pulled out his phone, brought up Castiel’s contact, and texted him.

Hey, babe. Could you come to our room when you get the chance, please?

He placed the phone onto his lap and began to nibble on the nail of his thumb. He couldn’t think of anything else. Nothing could shift his attention away from the problem at hand. Even if he tried to occupy himself with mindless scrolling or one of his hobbies, he didn’t think he would be able to concentrate on anything else. The whole disaster could have been avoided had (Y/N) thought about Castiel’s intentions rather than his insecurities. That was one of the character flaws he had to work on.

It wasn’t long before three soft knocks echoed against the wooden door, and (Y/N)’s head whipped up.

“Come in,” he said.

Just like before, the door opened a crack and Castiel poked his head inside before entering the room. Instead of the worried look he had before, it was replaced by intense nerves. Not only that, but, in his hands, Castiel held a small, decorative box, some items poking out of the top. The box was the least of (Y/N)’s worries.

“Good morning,” Castiel greeted, almost cautiously. “How are you feeling today?”

“A bit better. A little achy, but nothing like it was yesterday.”

“I’m glad.”

They sat in silence. (Y/N) still laid back on the bed while Castiel stood a couple of feet from him. The guilt only intensified. To think that Castiel was nervous to get closer to him because of his outburst broke his heart. Rightfully so. He patted the spot next to him on the bed. Castiel took the silent invitation and moved over to him. As he got closer, (Y/N)’s attention shifted to the box.

“What’s in there?” He asked quietly.

Castiel looked down at the box and then back at him. “It’s some of your favorite snacks,” he said and held out the box to him. “I figured it would make you feel better.”

Carefully, (Y/N) took the box from him and examined the contents. Inside were, indeed, some of his favorite snacks and candies. The guilt was killing him. He gave a small smile and set the box to the side.

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” Castiel gingerly sat beside him on the bed, careful of the way it shifted under his weight. “(Y/N), I wanted to apologize-”

“No, Cas,” (Y/N) interrupted. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, okay? I should be the one to apologize for what happened.”

(Y/N) turned his body in the bed, his face contorting slightly to a look of discomfort from the ache and settled for laying on his side so he could face Castiel.

“I should have never yelled at you like that. I should have never yelled at you at all. You were only trying to help. I realize that now, and I’m so sorry for the way I treated you.”

Castiel nodded. “Sam informed me that my intentions might have been misconstrued because of the pain.”

“They were at the time. The pain clouded my judgment and, in a sense, it made me assume you wanted to get rid of my bottom growth altogether. I know that’s impossible, and I don’t know what could have made me think otherwise. If you were capable of changing me to that extent, I would have asked you months ago to use your grace on me instead of taking hormones,” he let out a dry chuckle. “But, Cas, I hope you know that my being in pain doesn’t give me a reason to talk to you the way that I did.”

“I understand,” He replied, gaze cast down.

“Hey, look at me,” (Y/N) reached over and, using his index and middle fingers, turned Castiel’s head so that their eyes were connected. “You don’t deserve to be talked to like that, especially by me. I was a terrible boyfriend at that moment.”

“No, you weren’t,” Castiel shook his head as he grasped both of (Y/N)’s hands in his. “I’ve had time to reflect, and, if I’ve learned anything from my time on Earth, it’s that people make mistakes. It’s okay to make those mistakes as long as you take accountability for them. I took accountability for my mistake, and you took accountability for yours.”

“You’re right, accountability is very important, and people do make mistakes, but those mistakes shouldn’t hurt the ones we love. I love you, Castiel, more than you’ll ever truly know. You’ve stood by my side through every second of my transition and have continued to show your undying love and support for me, even when I’m a dick to you. You even got me a damn basket of my favorite snacks, even after what I did,” Tears streaked down his cheeks, and his voice began to quiver as he spoke. “You are so kind and caring and compassionate, and I don’t deserve you.”

“Stop,” Castiel reached a hand up and used his thumb to brush the tears away from his cheeks. “(Y/N), I love you, too. More than I ever thought possible. You deserve everything, and I wish I could give it to you. It hurt me so much to see you in pain, that I didn’t even consider your feelings. That was selfish of me, but, I know, from now on, I will consider what you want before I consider anything else.”

(Y/N) sniffled. “Oh, Cas, you’re not selfish. You are the most selfless person I have ever met. The fact that you care so much about me is one of the reasons why I fell in love with you in the first place. I wouldn’t change it for the world. I just need to learn to keep my damn mouth shut when you’re trying to be nice,” he chuckled and leaned his forehead against Castiel’s. “Can you forgive me?”

Castiel opened his mouth to protest, to say that (Y/N) didn’t need to be forgiven, but he took a page out of his newly found book of social knowledge and gave him a small smile. “Yes, I forgive you. Do you forgive me?”

(Y/N) attempted to do the same, to say that Castiel had done nothing wrong, to repeat the same line he had just preached. But he just copied the smile and gave a faint nod. “I forgive you.” He whispered as he leaned over and kissed him sweetly.

The kiss lasted a couple of seconds before they pulled away, enjoying their sweet embrace. (Y/N) shifted on the bed to get more comfortable and, again, winced when the ache returned. Castiel took notice, his eyes roaming (Y/N)’s body.

“Are you alright? Would you like me to get you anything?” He asked.

(Y/N) shook his head. “No, babe, thank you. Maybe we could just lie in bed together for a bit while I snack on the treats you got me?”

Castiel smiled. “That sounds like a great idea.”

The two of them adjusted themselves in the bed so Castiel was laid on his back and (Y/N) was laid on his side. His head and hand rested on his chest while Castiel’s arm was wrapped around his shoulders. (Y/N) reached over, grabbed one of the many bags of candy, and sat it between them. They sat in a comfortable silence, wrapped in each other’s embrace, never wanting to let go.

Everyone seeks some type of support and comfort from others. Whether it be family, friends, partners, coworkers, or complete strangers, the strength and stability of the human race depend on the support of others in some way, shape, or form. (Y/N) was lucky enough to be put in a situation where he was surrounded by people who loved and appreciated him for who he was. Despite the trials and tribulations of the past and the ones yet to come, he knew he always had loved ones in his life to fall back on in times of trouble. 

And (Y/N) would cherish that for as long as he lived.

[fruitsoxs]

me: *manifests in anyone's inbox as soon as wolfwood is mentioned*

hey socks! (love your name too btw) I haven't interacted yet but I really enjoyed reading your stuff, so here I am - Wolfwood prompts, you ask? how about him overhearing the reader get off, and maybe even them moaning his name? I know that's a classic prompt but haven't spotted anyone who wrote it for our man here

i like your mind anon--

pairings: wolfwood x (gender neutral) reader

warnings: !nsfw minors dni! , masturbating , descriptions of moaning, a bit of religious imagery but not a lot , idk wolfwood may be being a bit of a creep but you love him so it's okay

notes: just as a general rule i try to keep the reader gender neutral when answering requests unless the gender is specified- so if you want the reader to have a specific gender just ask :) also it's a bit short but i hope it's okay!! also i kind headcannon that they take turns deciding who gets a room the themselves-- and it just so happened to be your turn--

A better man would have ignored the sweet noises coming from your room the moment he heard them through the thin walls. However, Wolfwood is not a better man. In fact, he considers himself to be the worst of the worst. Someone’s whose sins are unforgivable in the eyes of God. So maybe that’s why, instead of respectfully ignoring the situation, his ear is pressed up against the cool wall as he drinks in every last noise you make.

At first he was a bit worried. 

Vash had passed out the moment his head hit the pillow, but Wolfwood’s head was full of all kinds of thoughts. Things he couldn’t fall asleep to without a fuck load of alcohol probably. So he’s left tossing and turning in the uncomfortable bed by himself for a while- until he hears a small whimper from the room next to him. The room you’re staying in.

He’s up immediately, a cold fear washing through his body. Are you hurt? Did somebody break into your room? He’s close to grabbing the punisher and knocking down the wall in between the rooms just to make sure you are safe- and then the next noise happens.

A moan.

Oh.

His face instantly erupts into a fiery shade of red, his heart slamming against his ribs. That wasn’t a very heavenly noise. He looks over to make sure Vash is still asleep (he should know by now that even the end of the world couldn’t wake that man up), and lets out a sigh of relief when he sees that his traveling companion is still passed out. 

Another soft moan erupts from your room, and the noise shoots down right to his dick. He’s already getting hard. It doesn’t help that he’s imagining what you look like right now. Sprawled out on your bed, lips parted and face flushed. He imagines your legs parted, your hand in between, touching yourself just the way you like.

Another moan - and he can practically see it leaving your pretty lips.

He doesn’t even realize how close to the wall he’s gotten, chasing the sounds that emanate from your room. You get louder the closer he gets, and he’s able to pick up on more sounds. It’s a beautiful symphony to his ears.

At some point his hand sneaks down to his groin, as he starts palming himself through his pants. This is wrong. He shouldn’t be listening to this- but another moan from you and all his guilt melts into a need. A lust that no man who carries a cross should have. He grunts as he dips his hand into the waistline of his pants, wrapping his hand around his dick. You whimper out something - a name or a curse. He can’t tell, you stutter it out so softly. He can’t even feel jealousy for whoever’s name falls from your heavenly lips. He doesn’t have time, because you begin to whimper in just a way that has him pulling down his pants.

His mind is blank at this point, too focused on the string of curses and moans that leave your lips. His hand moves, pumping his shaft with an intensity he hasn’t felt in a long time. He’s not sure if he’ll ever recover from this. He moves his hand a bit faster, a bit tighter-

“W….Wolfwood~”

He freezes. 

His eyes widen and his body tenses completely. What was that? There’s no way…he definitely just heard you wrong. His hand drops to his side and he presses his ear against the wall. He’s sure he heard his name just now. But then, like a prayer, his name leaves your lips again. 

He stands there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Before he hikes up his pants and sprints out his door. He slams his fist against your door and calls your name.

You emerge a little while later. Your hair is a mess, your eyes wide, and your cheeks a beautiful pink. It’s a perfectly normal sight for anyone who doesn’t know what you were just doing. Wolfwood knows though. He can’t help but stare at you for a second, and he wonders if you can tell that he was doing the same thing.

After a moment, you begin to ask what he’s doing but he cuts you off. “The walls are thin.” Is the only explanation he gives before he crashes his lips against yours.

[tobias-hankel]

❤️2023 Quan-Tea-Co Fics Recs🖤

The wonderful members of our discord server, Quan-Tea-Co, have written a lot of fanfics this year - this is the rec list!

🖤 SFW No Ship Fics

the friendship we have is a rare find by cherubcurls, Gen, In and out. “I've got this.” she affirmed to herself breathily, looking down at her hands that held two cups of coffee rather than one, still steaming, still fresh. Her heart swelled with affection. She grinned, “We've got this.” OR; Penelope and Spencer agree to meet up to have a study session before finals. A couple of things change and they end up not studying at all.

and i saw my life in photographs of faded memories by whateverislovely, Gen, Morgan reminds him just a little too much of the football players who bullied him relentlessly all through high school and even college. He’s big and imposing, with bulging muscles and a look on his face that says, Are you kidding me? when Hotch informs him that Spencer is the newest member of the BAU team. Five times Spencer misinterprets Morgan's intentions, and one time he's finally able to straighten things out.

where do we begin to get clean again by whateverislovely, Teen, Spencer often participates in toasts with the group using water or tea or potato chips instead of alcohol. This fic explores the events that may have led him to stop drinking.

silence like a cancer grows by whateverislovely, Teen, Diana doesn’t forgive Spencer for having her institutionalized… at least, not right away.

❤️Mature No Ship Fics

Surrender by @starzzyeyed, Mature, He doesn't want this, not really. He never wanted it. But he's in too deep now, and getting out seems less and less possible as the days trickle on, like sand through an hourglass. Or: An in depth look at Reid's addiction, and what it might have been like for him.

what’s this, the consequences of my actions? by cherubcurls, Mature, Because Spencer wasn’t used to safe. He needed adrenaline to pump through his veins and soften the blow for him to have a good day. His family never really liked how violent he was. OR; Spencer comes back home from a particularly horrible fight and his Dad is less than amused.

Solved Game by Boots17, Mature, Solved game: a game whose outcome can be correctly predicted from any position, assuming that the game is played perfectly. A season 12 canon divergence in which Mr. Scratch dies a little too early, Reid accepts the plea deal, and Cat Adams plays a very long game. Years later, the two finally get their rematch.

Ships are under the cut

🖤SFW Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid

A Gentle Touch Hurts So Much by ProfessorWorm, Gen, Spencer has unaddressed childhood fears dredged up by Aaron’s attempt to help him recover from his knee injury.

Day 4 - FFC - Second Love by a1_kitkat, Teen, Spencer never much cared for anniversaries, neither does Aaron… this time there’s an exception.

There Are Secrets That We Still Have Left To Find by @starzzyeyed, Not Rated, Spencer Reid is seven years old the first time he comes out to anyone. Three times Spencer comes out, across three different points in his life, all with three very different outcomes.

❤️NSFW/Mature Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid

Subscribed by AestheticTek and @goobzoop, Explicit, After stressful cases, Hotch finds that camming in lingerie helps him to decompress, while Reid happens to stumble upon the most attractive man that greatly resembles his biggest crush, his boss.

The Absence of Sound by BluePenguinLightning, Mature, The sudden onslaught of sounds startled Spencer Reid awake, not that he ever slept well anyway. He hadn’t slept well in two hundred and seventy-four days. In all honesty, he wasn’t even sure how he managed to make it that far. In which Reid somehow manages to survive a sadistic psychopath but that's only the beginning.

kill your indulgences by cherubcurls, Explicit, Hotch was his; his to keep, his to possess, his to feed on. “No,” he tried to mumble. As best as he could with his canines still firmly lodged onto his throat. “Mine.” OR; Hotch lets Spencer feed on him.

The Boy by house_of_lantis, Explicit, Lord Aaron Hotchner is one of the most ruthless rulers of the City. But despite his fearsome reputation, Lord Hotchner is respected by his people and beloved by those closest to him. He strives to bring order and justice to the City and to protect it from anyone who dared threaten it. Spencer is the newest addition to Aaron’s private harem, stolen from his previous master. Affectionately nicknamed the Boy, he is the exclusive body slave to Lord Hotchner and he learns to navigate the politics of the harem.

Hide and Seek by Highway58, Explicit, An Unsub fixates on the BAU Team, determined to make them his passion project. Spencer Reid is his ultimate target but in order to get to him, he has to go through the people he holds most dear in his life.

Heathen by Highway58, Explicit, The dreams would not stop. Ever since the unexpected case in Las Vegas when he forced himself to confront his painful past, Spencer Reid had not been able to sleep. The visions haunted him relentlessly... he couldn't resist the need to forget it all. Something was happening to him. Something he'd been suppressing for most of his life, ever since that one moment in his childhood he couldn't--wouldn't--face. Soon, very soon... he wouldn't be able to resist his own biology. Even though he had no idea it was even part of him. He was just a Beta... right? Spencer Reid approaches a crossroads he never imagined he could face.

Ain't Always Gold by Highway58, Explicit, Omega Spencer gets knocked up by his Mate Aaron Hotchner in the wake of Emily's death and he doesn't know it until it's about to kill him.

Call Me Daddy by goobzoop, Explicit, Aaron teaches Spencer how to date, but it’s not women he’s making him better for. It’s himself.

Let Me Be Your Only Choice by TobiasHankel, Explicit, After Spencer is kidnapped by Hankel, the team expects to find the omega scared and possibly beaten. They didn’t expect to find Spencer next to a dead Alpha and dying from bond rejection. With limited options and a dying Spencer, Hotch is forced to make a decision that Spencer can’t even consent to in order to save his life.

Every Version of You by goobzoop, Explicit, Hotch's whole world comes crashing down the moment he witnesses his husband get injured right in front of him. Spencer makes it through, but the road to recovery is more difficult than he could have ever imagined. Or, amnesia fic!

A Fool There Was by reasonablerodents, Explicit, Hotch is using Spencer to take out his frustrations regarding his failing marriage. Spencer is so desperately in love with him that he’ll put up with anything- just as long as he can be close to Hotch.

Touch The Leather by reasonablerodents, Explicit, “Well, the problem with shoes is- um, they’re dirty, there’s a staggering amount of bacteria even on the cleanest ones, I don’t want…” He trails off again, swallowing hard. Or: Hotch wants Spencer to prove how much he loves him.

Room on the Third Floor by Matthew1972, Explicit, One minute Aaron Hotchner is walking free, contemplating a forever with Spencer… the next he gets snatched away. Locked up in a cage to the whims of an unsub unlike any other he's ever faced. A hunter and wildcat shifter trafficker. But then, his inner panther and human self alike refuse to be tamed and collared to live out his days as the wildcat alone. To be another victim sold. Will his defiance become his downfall? Or does Aaron get to return home to Spencer and see through on his proposal?

🖤SFW Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid

Maybe Someday Soon by @justjasper, Teen, "Derek talks about you." The Morgan women know that he's in love with Reid. They also know that he is absolutely clueless about it.

Washed Away by TobiasHankel, Teen, It had been over a year since Spencer Reid went missing after he was kidnapped by Tobias Hankel. He was presumed to be dead, but Morgan refused to believe it and move on. After a case takes the team back to the same state Spencer went missing in, Morgan might just get the answers he has been looking for.

❤️ NSFW/Mature Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid

Spun Hearts by JustJasper, Explicit, After a harrowing case Morgan needs control, and Reid needs a fix, and they wind up in bed. Reid sees this as a potential evolution of their relationship, but Morgan is adament that he's not gay. The path towards what they both want isn't a simple one, and a recurring case brings some painful things to bare as they both try to navigate what they are to each other.

When We're Together, Our Bodies They Start Fires by JustJasper, Explicit, 2x06, "The Boogey Man", Reid sits in a police station practicing trying to lockpick a pair of handcuffs with a paperclip. Some short time later, he misses a hangout with Morgan, who goes to check on him.

🖤 Other Ships

Home by KatrioneSpecterRossi, Explicit, Emily Prentiss/David Rossi, Usually when there's a disturbance in the middle of the night, it involves Emily waking up from a PTSD-induced nightmare with her gun pointing at her bed partner's head. This time when she wakes up, it's for a very different reason...that turns out being a great deal more fun.

Level Pegging by Starzzy, Explicit, Elle Greenaway/Spencer Reid, “I don’t need, or frankly have the time to have sex,” he manages at last, somehow forcing his feet to move and take him forwards to the coffee maker. He almost forgoes the sugar entirely, wanting the bitter taste to wake him up from this walking nightmare he seems to be living in right now. “All I’m saying is, you wouldn’t be my first,” Elle says as she comes up to stand next to him.

❤️ Crossovers

I Used to Dread the Thought of Falling Quickly by Chaotic_Librarian, Explicit, Supernatural, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Spencer Reid/Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Spencer Reid/Dean Winchester, Spencer Reid/Sam Winchester, Spencer Reid knows how to stumble into odd situations. But being kidnapped and then promptly flirted with? Seduced? by two of the FBI's Most Wanted? That has to take the cake. That, however, won't stop him from falling in love.

Entertained by Chaotic_Librarian, Explicit, Supernatural, Spencer Reid/Sam Winchester, Sam's sitting on his bar stool on the miniature stage again, his guitar in his lap.  Another stool serving as his table with a half-drunk glass of whiskey, he looks out across the mediocre crowd.  Typical Wednesday. That's his preferred crowd, anyway.  Joanne managing the bar, Pauline working the floor, and him on the stage as cheap entertainment.  Strumming his guitar and singing country songs he learned by heart years ago.  Sometimes he'll do requests.  But not often.  Not a lot of Kansans approach the stage when he's playing.  They just let him do his thing.

I Must Admit that I was Reeling by Chaotic_Librarian, Explicit, Supernatural, Spencer Reid/Sam Winchester, Aaron Hotchner/Dean Winchester, Spencer goes way too far to get closure on his fling with Sam Winchester. Because it was just a fling, right? It's not like they're meant to be, right?

To Love And To Be Loved In Return by reasonablerodents and Starzzy, Mature, Grease (1978), Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia/Derek Morgan, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner accepted a long time ago that he was never going to be able to be his true self. Not only was it illegal, it was highly unlikely that he’d ever find someone willing to be in hiding with him for the rest of their lives, unless America got a whole lot more open and accepting. That all changes when Spencer Reid transfers to Oakdale to finish his senior year.

Thank you everyone for making such great works this last year! The Quan-Tea-Co server is open to new members as long as you are over 18 years old. Invite Link.

[nekrosdolly]

healing

leon comforts you after you relapse.

cw; BULIMIA, eating disorder talk and mentions, vomit, afab!reader, unspecified age gap, older!leon, alcoholism mentions and references, recovery, relapsing, binging mentions. please, under any circumstances, do not read if any of this may trigger you.

a/n; this was a request from an anon, and though i told myself i wasn't taking requests, something in me felt compelled to do this one!

you really did try, but recovery has never been linear. leon has told you that same thing before, too. with his alcoholism, it was the same story. he'd do great for a few days, weeks even, and then it would all crumble at the mere scent of alcohol. all in all, he knows that while recovering, someone is more fragile. sensitive, so to speak. you're no different.

you'd been doing great so far- no binging, no vomiting, and less exercise. you hadn't been so hypervigilant about how you look. your boyfriend, leon, has been a great help. he's always reassured you whenever you had doubts about your appearance, lapses, or whatever comes up, he's there. he knows you've struggled with this for a long time and he doesn't make you feel bad or weird about it, unlike the other people that had come before him.

he's different in the way you need, and you appreciate that.

you knew today would be bad, but you still held out hope. even when you woke up to not one, but a few new zits on your face, and your hair awry and seemingly unmanageable. even when you did your skincare routine and somehow your cleanser got in your eyes, which burned like hell. even when the shower randomly went cold and ruined your morning. everything was out of your control and that had triggered something in you. you'd never been much of a control freak.

except for this. where you are now, retching up your breakfast as quietly as humanly possible so as not to disturb leon. but that's the thing with trained agents. their hearing sharpens, their senses heighten, so it's no surprise that after you're done ridding yourself of your stomach's contents, that he's entering the bathroom. and you're still there, kneeling before the toilet with bile coating the innards of your mouth and esophagus, your face sickly and somewhat grey.

he's concerned, as any good boyfriend would be. he grabs a washcloth without a word and wets it, then kneels down beside you to wipe the bile off your lips. to you, it feels like a waste of effort. to him, he's showing he cares.

"i'm sorry." are the first words to leave your mouth, "i said i was going to get better a-and now i'm not."

"we've had this talk before, baby." he murmurs, setting the washcloth in the sink.

"c'mon, let's get you some water." he pulls you up from the floor with gentle and warm hands, then flushes the toilet's contents.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

in the kitchen, you rinse your mouth out with the cup of water he's provided for you in a desperate attempt to get rid of the bitter yet sour taste lingering on your tongue, and the feeling coating your gums. he rubs your back slowly, his warmth seeping through the thin material of your shirt. you haven't changed out of your pajamas since you woke up, and by the likes of how the day is going, you aren't going to. he presses a kiss to your hair and wraps his arm around your waist, trying to make you feel at least a little better.

he takes the hand you'd been using to force yourself into throwing up and rinses them off, even though there's nothing on them besides dried saliva (and the slightest bit of stomach acid.) you lean against him, a soft sigh leaving you.

"you know, i'm not mad at you." he says, now patting your fingers dry with a kitchen towel.

you look up at him, a little confused.

"you apologized earlier."

"oh."

"yeah. i just want you to know that i'm not mad at you for relapsing. y'know, it happens, and i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about doing it either." his words somehow bring you a small sense of comfort, that familiar warmth in your chest sparking.

"i'm glad you didn't." you mutter, a slight rasp to your voice.

he chuckles dryly, "yeah, so am i. it's hard, i know, but you can do it. someday, you won't even think about it anymore."

you shake your head softly. "it's not the same as drugs, or alcohol. it's rewired my brain."

he nods his understanding.

"well, whatever it is, you're not alone in this. i'll always be here to support you in any way you need me to." he gives your side a small squeeze and you rest your head against his shoulder.

you know, deep down, that he's trying his best to help. at times, namely today, you find that he's succeeded in his mission. he's seen you at your worst as well as your best and he's stayed. the promise ring he gave you a few months prior proves that he's more than likely staying for the rest of your days.

that thought, in and of itself, warms you up a little more.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 1: Stuck

Birmingham, England, 1919

Much like America, it is an empire of industry. Giant factories tower over the slums and shacks, with drunks, thieves, and whores alike all sulking in the shadows. Smoke and ash cloud the sky and block out what little sun there is, as well as fill everyone’s lungs with foul air. With sparks flying everywhere it’s a miracle nothing catches fire. The gloomy and dreadful atmosphere is enough to make anyone faint, vomit, or lose hope altogether.

But I’ve got something these folks do not. 

I am an American.

While that may not be astonishing to some, to me it means that I’m independent, as well as rambunctious and a bit of a rebel even for my culture. My family always says I’m too rash and stubborn, and that it will diminish any chance of me finding a husband and settling down for a proper life. But I’m in no mood to marry, so sue me for actually enjoying my life.

However, at the moment I seem to be in a bit of a pickle. You see, I don’t travel much. Yes there’s the occasional trip out of state, but never in a million years did I think I’d ever go to England. Of all places, my family chose to vacation in Manchester, England. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a beautiful country with gorgeous countryside views and polite accents… that is until you reach the deep city. Then it gets bustling and dangerous, which is how I came to be where I am now. We decided to travel by train, stopping in Birmingham on the way to London before we headed home. Lord knows why I decided to stray away and get a better look at the intriguing shops, but after an hour of desperately searching for my family it finally sunk in that I was, quite frankly, alone. Talk about a dumb-headed move on my part. I passed back and forth through the train station for hours as night fell, growing more and more worried about what kinds of danger Small Heath, Birmingham has hiding in the darkness. 

Right now, people are giving me mixed looks of pity, confusion, and judgment. I know I’m not much to look at, with my messy blonde hair stuffed under a simple hat and my slim figure dressed in a gray dress with black heels. I probably look much richer than I really am, which makes my fear of criminals spike even more.

“Might I help you, young lady?” A sinister voice calls out.

He's a drunk, I’m sure of it. A man in a ragged overcoat staggers over, and he’s reeking of alcohol.

“No, I’m waiting for someone. Please leave me alone.” 

“Oh, no. You’re all alone? Perfect…” He licks his lips and starts reaching his hand out-!

“Back off! She’s with me.”

I look over and see an older man wearing a trenchcoat and bowler hat. He’s got a simple mustache, is smoking a pipe, and carrying a briefcase. Is he a cop?

“Says who, old man?” The drunk slurs.

But instead of answering, the man slugs the drunk in the nose and ushers him off. When he turns back to me the bowler hat man extends a hand to shake.

“Excuse me, miss. I’m Inspector Chester Campbell. Who might you be?”

“I- I’m Verena, Verena Steenstra.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Verena. I’m here for private matters, sent by Churchill on account of a BSA munitions robbery. I am here to weed out prime suspects and possibly recover some stolen items that belong to the Crown. You wouldn’t happen to know an Arthur or Thomas Shelby, would you?”

I shake my head. “Sorry, can’t say I have. I’m new to these parts, just having arrived from America yesterday.”

He nods. “Well it’s best if you don’t, miss. They’re ruthless, the lot of them. Gangsters, bookmakers, racketeers. The gang they’re part of call themselves the Peaky Blinders. You best be getting indoors instead of wandering these dreadful streets at this hour.”

When Campbell sees my uneasy expression he frowns. “You do have a place to stay, right?”

“Actually sir, I was… left here by mistake. My family left hours ago and I’ve been here ever since.”

Campbell’s eyes soften a little. “I’m sorry to hear that, miss. If I knew the area I’d find you an inn or hotel, so the most I can do is guide you to the desk clerk in the train station.” He gestures for me to follow him and leads me over to the back desk, where a middle-aged lady is typing. “Hello, would you happen to know where this young lady might find any lodgings?”

The lady gives me a once-over and tilts her head. “Maybe ask Harry at the Garrison. That’s a local pub nearby. You can’t miss it. Just ask for Harry.”

We thank her and head back outside, where it’s starting to get dark.

“I’m sorry to leave you here, but I’ve got my own appointments to attend.” Campbell grips his briefcase and waves to signal a passing cab. “You’ll be alright?”

I try to give a convincing nod. “Yeah, as good as I can I guess. Good luck with your investigation.”

“Best of luck to you too, miss. You’ll need it if you want to survive this wicked city.”

And with that, the inspector climbs into the cab and is driven off. Leaving me, once again, alone. But at least this time I have an idea of where to go and what to do. I tightly grip my small suitcase and begin walking down the bustling streets, trying my best to ignore the… less than Christian crowd that hovers around. 

“God does not care if you live in a slum or in a mansion!”

A man’s voice draws my attention, and I look to find the source coming from down the street. He sounds Jamaican, and seems to be a minister of sorts. 

“God does not care if you are rich or you are poor!”

I approach slowly, not wanting to interrupt. “Excuse me, sir? Where would I go to find the Garrison?”

The man frowns at me, confused. “What’s a lass like you doing in this part of town? Don’t you know it’s dangerous?”

“I understand that. I’m looking to find a place to stay, so I’ll ask again. Where can I find the Garrison?”

The man looks at me as if I’ve signed my own death note, then points to the building down the street. “There. But God be with you if you want to persevere with what kind of men go in there.”

I thank him and walk towards the building. It’s definitely a pub, because there’s drunk men staggering out and vomiting everywhere. 

“Look out!” Someone shouts.

Without warning, a small person plows into me and sends us tumbling into the dust.

“Dear God, what on Earth…?” I gather myself up and get a look at the person, or should I say kid. He’s a young boy with a conservative haircut, wearing dark pants, a white shirt, and gray vest. One might say he dresses just as professional as any stockbroker. 

“I’m sorry!” He says in a worried manner and looks as if I’m about to slap him. “I didn’t mean to, I swear!”

I gotta say, seeing this boy speak in an English accent is downright cute!

I kneel down to seem less intimidating and hold out a hand. “Hey hey, it’s alright, kid. It was an accident. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He nods and shakes my hand, now looking at me differently. “You sound different.”

“I’m American, from New York. Now what was it you were running from?”

“Oh, right!” He points to the alley he just ran from. “I’m playing hide-and-seek with my aunt.”

I frown. “And you’re out here, in the dark, at this time of night? It may not be my place to say, but you should probably go back inside. Where’s your aunt now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well that’s not going to get us anywhere. You got a name?”

He smiles and nods eagerly. “I’m Finn, Finn Shelby. I’m 10 going on 11!”

“Wow, that’s old! So Finn, how about you head inside with me and we can find a way of contacting your aunt? That sound alright?”

“Finn! We were looking for you!” A man comes walking up, wearing dark clothes and a cap. When he sees me next to Finn, the man’s eyes darken. “Who are you?”

I ignore his question and look at Finn. “Do you know him?”

“Yeah, he’s my brother John.”

Now I know that I can trust this man. “I’m nobody. Just a lost tourist who’s looking out for Finn.”

The man looks confused. “Why? You don’t know him.”

“That doesn’t matter. I’d look out for him as if he was my own child because no kid should be wandering around at this time of night.”

He scoffs. “What are you, some nun or midwife? Doesn’t matter. Come on, Finn.” John takes the boy’s hand and starts walking away. 

“Nice to meet you!” Finn calls before they’re out of sight.

“Goodbye!”

Now to get back to the task at hand. While being as inconspicuous as possible, I sneak past the gruff men and enter the strangely quiet bar. I gotta say, it’s surprisingly clean. Compared to the filthy world outside you’d think the king himself would eat here. But I know better. I can tell this place has seen its fair share of violence, but I give credit to the barman for keeping it spiffy. Gruff and sketchy-looking Brits sit scattered all over the room. Murmured conversations ghost around the room, confirming that this is yet another place I shouldn’t be at. A few turn their heads, but seem uninterested… for now. I hold my suitcase close and discreetly make my way to where the barman is standing.

“You don’t know me, but the desk clerk at the train station said to ask for someone named Harry.”

The barman, just like everyone else, seems to think I’m a fish out of water. “I’m Harry. What do you want?”

“She said you could tell me where to find a place to stay. I’ll pay what I can, I swear. I just need somewhere to sleep until I can find a way to get back to America.”

His face changes. “America? You mean you’re stuck here?”

“For the time, yes.”

First Harry goes to say something but then seems to look over at someone behind me. This changes his demeanor and he gestures for me to sit.

“Can I get you anything?”

I shake my head. “I don’t drink.”

“I do,” a woman’s voice says behind me.

A dark-haired woman wearing a gray suit sits up next to me, her face being shielded by a hat.

Harry nods respectfully at the woman and pours a shot of whiskey. “On the house, Polly.”

She gladly takes the glass and downs it, looking at me with calculating eyes.

“Name’s Polly, love. Polly Gray.”

“You seem to be a woman who knows what she’s doing, and how to conduct authority,” I reply.

“And you seem to be a woman who has nowhere to go. Am I right, love?”

I look away and become more interested in staring at the table. “Yes, ma’am. I’m currently homeless, jobless, penniless, and on the verge of hopeless.” I look back up. “But I’ve got a song in my heart and a gleam in my eye, so that’s all I can do for now.”

Polly laughs and twirls the shot glass in her hand. “Well a song and dance isn’t going to take you far, love. It’s best if you come with me.” She stands back up and starts pulling her coat back on.

My thoughts freeze. Did I hear that right? This person, this complete stranger who has no inkling of who I am, wants me to go with them? Where? And what for? Inspector Campbell said to be careful.

“Wait- what? What do you mean?”

Polly walks to the door, unfazed by my questions. “I saw you interacting with Finn. You treat him as both a child and an adult, which is something I respect. You’re not too sour but still know when to show a firm grip. I’d like to hire you as his tutor. He needs help studying, as well as someone to make sure he doesn’t shoot his eye out.”

My jaw drops. “Shoot his… But how-?”

“Don’t ask. I have to deal with the most ridiculous idiots this side of England, you have no idea!” She scoffs as I follow her back into the inky night. “The fact is that I need a tutor, and you need a roof over your head. So, do you want the job or not?”

I try to form words but all that comes out is a babbling mess. My thoughts are fried! What reason do I have to even trust this Polly character?

“You’re conflicted,” Polly states plainly. “I can understand why.”

“Yes! Because- because I’m alone! I- I have no one to help, but everyone says I can’t trust anyone here, and then you happen to be passing by… I don’t know what to make of it!”

Polly puts a hand on my shoulder. “Love, one of the things I always go by is my faith. If fate had it so you would be here to help Finn and get my attention, then God has spoken. My trust is not so easily won over, so I suggest you consider this chance very seriously.”

She’s right. Everything’s led to this. Besides, she’s right. I need a job.

“Yes, I accept your kind offer.” I hold out a hand and we shake. “Thank you, Mrs. Gray.”

“I may be your employer but there’s no need for that formality. Polly’s fine, love. And yours?”

“Verena Nora Steenstra,” my name flies right off the tongue. 

“That’s Dutch, I’d imagine?”

I nod. “Yes, after my great grandmother. My father’s Dutch, my mother’s Irish.”

“Ah yes, you Americans and your mixed heritages.”

She doesn’t seem upset by it, and I’m glad she doesn’t inquire further. My family isn’t cruel, but we’re not exactly the most wanted people in New York. My uncle on my mother’s side is part of the Irish mob in Brooklyn, so our reputation is a bit strict.

Polly leads me through the dark streets and people seem to be aware not to test her. Crowds scatter away to let us pass, not even daring to meet her eye.

“You have authority here?”

“Of sorts. People know better not to start a quarrel. Here we are.”

The house itself is simple-looking on the outside, something I admire. Polly opens the door and shows me inside, which displays a traditional cross hung in the hallway. I follow her past a kitchen and into a small room near the back, one containing a simple bed and vanity as well as a single window.

“Bathtub’s down the hall. I’ll leave you here to settle in, I trust the lads will guide you through the house. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must attend a family meeting. Finn’s around here somewhere if you wish to chat.”

I set my suitcase on the bed and look at Polly with sincere gratitude. “Thank you so much. You really saved me from a tight pickle, and I promise I will do everything I can to repay you.”

Polly smiles and, to my uttermost surprise, comes over to give me a hug. “No problem, love. You seem like a decent girl, even if you are American.” She snickers and goes to walk out, then turns to say: “One more thing: when you meet Thomas, just know he’s a bit rough around the edges.”

I squint in bafflement. “Thomas? Who’s-?”

But she exits before I can finish. So just to be clear: Now I need to teach a boy from a family I just met and am expecting to meet someone who’s ‘rough around the edges.’ Yay?

[doublejango]

Blitz is extremely wary of alcoholics and drug addicts. The depth of trauma his dad caused him isn't something he can just get over with the snap of his fingers, but it did teach him to worry about those people, and to recognize problems when he sees them.

---[content about addiction and recovery under the cut]---

Blitz cares. He knows full-well that day drinking can be fine and many people can do it in moderation, but that for some, it absolutely isn't fine and isn't something they can control or moderate. For some people, the problem is insurmountable, and they need to get help. And yes, he's afraid of becoming addicted himself. He knows he could, all too easily. But his experience with an alcoholic father is a big part of why he was worried when he pointed out the way Stolas was drinking. He's doesn't want to lose him to alcohol.

Blitz had to fight to help get his sister to go to rehab for drug use, and did the same with Verosika, trying so damn hard to get her to ease up on the drinking, to get her to see that she needed help (and probably still does, at least in the show canon).

He regrets that he screwed Verosika over. I headcanon that he tried to get her to go to rehab and she wasn't interested, so he accepted that and tried to keep going with their relationship as long as he could... until he couldn't. Until she said she loved him, and he broke her heart and ended things in the absolute worst way he possibly could.

He couldn't let himself fall in love with an alcoholic. He wouldn't have survived it and he knows that--and Blitz wants to live.

With his sister, he paid for her rehab as long as he could, as much as he could and worked his ass off to make sure he had enough money to keep that going, to never have to ignore a bill from her facility. She hated him and didn't want anything from him, clearly, but he was her brother: taking care of her, as much as he could, felt like the least he could do, even if she hates him for it. She's alive. She's alive, and so it was worth it. It was all worth it.

Even if she blames him, he still cares. He still feels responsible for helping her. For making sure she is never abandoned.

Because that is one of the ways that addiction hurts the people in the addict's life: they feel responsible. They want to help and they can't. They love them deeply, but can't save them. And speaking as someone who has had painfully close experience with helping people get into rehab... the addict often never forgives them for it for a long, long time. Having an intervention is beautiful in theory, but often damages the relationship for years, until the person in recovery reaches a stage where they are ready to work on that. Where they understand that it wasn't them someone was rejecting, it was the drugs, the alcohol. The lies. The pain. The self-destruction.

Blitz knows this. So no matter how much Barbie Wire hates him now, he knows he can't really talk to her about their childhood yet. He can't have that relationship with her yet. He effectively does not have a sister, and never will, not until she chooses that role again. But, because he knows and understands, he will always be open to her coming back. He'll be happy about it when it happens--if if happens. He may not be able to verbalize his understanding, or be great about talking about his feelings in general, but that doesn't mean they aren't there.

Recovering addicts can sometimes be the most wonderful and inspirational people, but they can also be the most vindictive and cruel during recovery, especially if recovery wasn't their choice and they felt forced or shamed. It's a hard, ugly truth... and Blitz will still hold onto his love for them. He doesn't just stop loving someone, doesn't just stop caring, even if he seems like he does.

So, yes. He was worried about Stolas's drinking. And yes, he's worried about Verosika's. He can't be in a relationship with an alcoholic--for both their sakes. He knows he isn't a stable enough person, and at the same time, he can't bring himself to enable someone's addiction. Not if he loves them. Not if he has ever cared about them. It doesn't mean he doesn't understand the misery that can push someone to need to rely on substance abuse. It doesn't mean he doesn't get it. It means he wants better for them. He wants them to survive. He knows people hate when others have boundaries, addicts especially, and it can be fucking heartbreaking to enforce them... but he will, when it comes to substance abuse. It will break his heart, but he'll do it...

And he will never stop hoping for the people he loves to heal. To recover. To get better. Even if he is a shitty, broken person, he will hold onto hope for them, and try to help them get what help they'll accept.

[justali-anne]

Drunk Skelebros Take

I just had a hilarious idea (at least in my opinion)!

Imagine that when Sans and Papyrus get drunk, they become the OPPOSITE kind of drunks to their usual selves.

Sans, for example, would turn into a wild party animal when drunk. In addition, I like to imagine that he has a very low alcohol tolerance (more on that later), so give him a couple of shots of whiskey and he's already in a hyperactive state. Expect drunk!Sans to be singing and dancing at the drop of a hat, flipping tables, disappearing and reappearing out of freaking NOWHERE, and having intense mood swings where he either laughs at everything or finds the most ABSURD reasons to cry ("fish don't have legs, bro, how can they run if they don't have any legs? *sob sob*"). However, even with all these absurd outbursts, there is one thing Sans will NEVER do when he's drunk: talk about his problems. In this state, Sans will be more focused on the present moment than any of the grievances in his life, and even if you try to pin him down and get him talking, he'd be too delirious to give you a comprehensible chat anyway. Bottom line is, someone will definitely need to babysit this guy when he's drunk, because left to his own devices... Well, he might just destroy the whole bar.

Papyrus, on the other hand, will actually slow down and become slightly more introspective when he's drunk. He'll just suddenly start asking the strangest, most "profound" questions and try to be all smart and philosophical, but they're really just a bunch of utter nonsense. ("ART? WHAT IS... ART? IS ART WHAT YOU CALL PENCIL MARKS? OR IS ART SOMETHING GREATER LIKE... THE UNIVERSE?") It doesn't stop there, either. Papyrus will take random strangers to the side and ask them strange questions, sometimes it's about the utter philosophical nonsense above, or it could be a bit... too personal for them. ("DO YOU EVER THINK THAT IF YOU HAD TAKEN A DIFFERENT PATH IN LIFE, YOU WOULD'VE ACHIEVED YOUR HOPES AND DREAMS BY NOW?") However, there are times where Papyrus could get really upset or even angry while drunk. He'd start bemoaning the littlest annoyances and all the problems in his life, which is the exact opposite of what Papyrus is normally like, so this kind of behaviour will be jarring to everyone around him. On the surface, Papyrus might seem fully functional while drunk, but out of the two brothers, surprisingly it's PAPYRUS who conks out first. Yeah, Sans may have a low alcohol tolerance, but Papyrus isn't much better.

My headcanon is that skeletons, in general, would have pretty sensitive and powerful magic. My reasoning for this is that while most monsters have organs and stuff to help them with their bodily functions (they just function differently due to magic), skeletons (and ghosts) will need a LOT more magic to achieve those same functions. Talking, eating, moving etc. So logically, I think alcohol would actually disrupt that magic, and if they have too much alcohol, a skeleton could actually fall apart and lose their basic functions. It's not fatal, just give it time and the skeleton can recover, but it's still pretty dangerous and terrifying when it does happen. The skeleton would just be in a state of paralysis and that's not good for anyone. And the weaker a skeleton is, the more likely this alcoholic paralysis is gonna happen.

Therefore, Sans and Papyrus have to be extremely careful about what they drink and how much they consume. A shot or two is enough to get them hammered, after all. Sans is more vulnerable, of course, for obvious reasons, but that doesn't mean Papyrus can take much more. He's tough, but he's still vulnerable. Both of them would start shaking and rattling if they drank too much. And hangovers are a NIGHTMARE. Sans would probably be bedridden, and Papyrus would pretend that he's fine and he's functioning properly, but if his rattling is any indication... yeah, he'd suffer.

Also these alcoholic principles don't work the same way on ghosts, since they're non-corporeal. I think the effects of alcohol on them would be different depending on the type of ghost, whether they have a body (like Mettaton) or not (like Napstablook). Or even if they're somewhere in-between (Mad Dummy/Mew Mew). I'll leave that for another time.

So, enjoy drunk skeletons!