#going to take a break and wear white t-shirt and jeans for like a year

[yelenasbraid]

the view between villages pt. 3 — joe burrow

mini series summary — it’s been years since you’ve seen your high school & college best friend, joe burrow. you went to high school together, went to ohio state together, but separated when joe transferred. distance wasn’t kind to you, and the total difference in careers stretched you further apart. when you reunite with him unexpectedly, you’re not sure you have an explanation. you’re not sure if he’ll take your explanation. little do you know he’s been ready and he’s been willing.

chapter summary — you and joe catch up, but not without the lovely company of anxiety.

warnings — fem!reader, some angst, fluff, this is LONG sorry!

songs that inspired this part — the edge by sydney ross mitchell, the roads by jonah kagan

note — been a little mia so sorry about that! life has been crazy but i’m hoping with the break coming up i can enjoy some much needed time off. here’s part 3 of the view between villages! hope you enjoy!

YOU’RE PACING, running around your room trying to piece together some semblance of an outfit. yours and joe’s catch-up day was here and you weren’t at all prepared. you spent the better part of the last 24 hours stressing, your anxiety trying to convince you that going would further ruin what you could have with joe. your rapid heartbeat and freak-out over what to wear diminished that.

you settled on something cute, but cozy. something that you were confident in, but also allowed you to breathe whenever you’d eat. your hands shook as you did your hair, your palms sweaty as you tried to steady the curling iron. it slipped, burning part of your finger. you hissed, slamming the iron down on the counter while you ran your finger under cold water.

“he’s probably not stressing about this like i am,” you grumbled as you dried your finger off, rummaging around for a bandage. you didn’t know that joe was feeling a very similar way, that his mind was racing and that he couldn’t wait to see you. his nerves ate him alive, creating a problem when it came to choosing an outfit.

joe rummaged through his closet, trying to find something that he could wear. it was a picnic, so something he didn’t mind getting dirty. which was nothing. he ran a shaky hand through his hair; he hasn’t felt this nervous for something since prom junior year of high school.

flashback

“joey, honey, you look great,” robin patted joe’s chest as he observed himself in the mirror. the suit he had on fit him, hugging his muscles and his stature better than he could have thought. yet, he still felt like he was gonna be sick.

it was the night of prom, and you were his date.

the thought of you, fitted in a beautiful dress, makeup done, and looking dolled up, it made him nervous. it made his hands shake. it made his heart slam against his chest. how did he manage to snag you as his date to prom?

“thanks, mom,” he exhaled, picking at his sleeves and flicking his eyes over his outfit. he didn’t wear suits. he didn’t like them. yet he was in one.

“you should get going, you don’t want to be late,” his mom patted his shoulder, “and don’t be nervous, remember, she’s your best friend,” she reminded him. joe nodded his head, saying the over and over in his mind. you were his best friend. that’s all. nothing more, right?

end of flashback

he settled on jeans and a t-shirt, completing the look with some white sneakers. it was nothing fancy, but it was also put together. he didn’t look like he rolled out of bed. as he fiddled with the final touches in the mirror, his mind drew back to you. you were his constant during school. you were always there, even when he wasn’t a good friend. you picked him up, but one question sat with him: why did you leave? why did you go radio silent? as he stood there, mind wondering down twisting roads, a haunting thought fogged his mind: why didn’t he reach out? why did he go radio silent?

could this be his fault?

he shook his head, attempting to banish the anxiety that spread its fingers over his mind, wrapping its tail around his legs. it was time, that’s what it was. time caused you two to distance yourselves. joe convinced himself of that, but he found himself convincing himself of another statement: he missed you. terribly, achingly so.

“get yourself together, joe,” he muttered to himself, walking out of his home. he stepped into his car, starting his drive to your place. his hands wrung the steering wheel, stressing over the tiniest of things. what were you going to talk about? was it going to be easy? were you going to be ready when he got there? his mind rattled off thoughts and before he knew it, he’d pulled up to your apartment. he parked, got out, and walked to your door. he knocked, stepping back. a few silent, agonizing moments went by before the door opened. his breath caught, and you weren’t wearing anything particularly fancy. you just answered the door.

“i’m almost ready i just have to find my keys���” you trailed off, leaving the door open as you walked back into your apartment. your mind was also scrambled. you’d misplaced your keys, lost your phone twice in your bed, and not to mention the burn on your finger from your stupid godforsaken-

“found em!” you called as you snagged the keys from the counter. your stomach was eating you alive. the nerves were tightly wound up, making your stomach seem to vibrate.

“you pick where we’re eating,” joe told you as you locked your door.

“you know i’m indecisive, joey,” you breathed as you walked with him to his car. oh, he knew. it was why he already had a place picked out.

“there’s this really good place downtown, i think it sells pizza?” he teased, and he watched your face brighten. he was still nervous, his hands sweating from the rapid heartbeat in his chest.

“can we go?”

“uh, yeah,” he answered as he opened your door for you. with a blush on your cheeks, you thanked him as you stepped into the car. it was definitely an upgrade from what he had in high school. well, anything was an upgrade from the car he had in high school.

—

pizza was picked up, as well as some drinks, and you drove to the park by joe’s house. it wasn’t a quiet drive, but not in a bad way.

“no, no that was the winter soldier. i’m telling you they did something to him,” you argued. this conversation started awkwardly by joe asking you if you were still into marvel movies. you said you were, and it turned into you talking about the newly released thunderbolts trailer.

“why would they do that? they spent all that time deconstructing what HYDRA did to him just to say, ‘yeah just scrap all of that let’s do it again!’ i don’t think so,” joe argued back.

“i really hope you’re right because if they do anything to bucky,” you clicked your tongue as you finished your sentence. joe understood, and he chuckled. he missed these conversations. the easy ones, the ones where he could be himself and no one would judge him. he couldn’t be the nerd he was on national television. he couldn’t theorize in depth about aliens on national television. he could with you though.

“we know you’re storming the big man’s house,” he teased, turning into the park. you laughed, and it felt natural. there was one issue that sat between you, and you both knew it. the reason for the years of silence. the fear that he wouldn’t accept your explanation. the fear that you wouldn’t have any sort of reasoning. it settled deep within both of your chests, and nothing would be completely normal until it came out.

joe parked the car, turning it off before stepping out and getting your door for you. you got out, and helped joe bring your supplies to an empty place on the grass. the sun was just beginning to set, casting beautiful hues of purple, orange, and yellow into the sky. you missed how joe was looking at you, seeing the sunset reflected on your face, how your eyes were pools of warmth form the sun. time may have ravaged your soul, but you were still as beautiful as the day you parted ways.

you turned, your eyes meeting his. a blush crept up his neck and reached his cheeks and ears. blushing like school children, you decided to focus on setting up the picnic. you flicked out the blanket, spreading it out on the soft grass below you. joe set down the pizzas, the napkins, and the drinks. you both sat down, opening the pizza boxes, inhaling the comforting aroma of pizza.

“i knew i forgot something,” joe muttered, flicking through the pile of things on your picnic blanket. you watched with curiosity, and then it dawned on you.

“did you forget the plates?” you asked him, a smile creeping up on your face. blushes of embarrassment tinted joe’s ears red. how could he be so stupid? he forgot the very thing to hold the pizza he bought.

“yeah…” he trailed off. he wanted it to be perfect. he didn’t want anything to be out of place or missing. he felt that if he did, it reflected badly on him. it usually did when it came to games. people blamed him for a lot of mistakes, even when he didn’t make them. he carried that weight, and he was used to it.

“it’s not a big deal,” you shrugged, grabbing a napkin, “plates are for losers anyways,” you grab a slice and cradle it in a napkin. you watched as joe’s shoulders sagged, relief flooding his features. you didn’t know all that went on, or the emotions he felt this season, but there was one thing you did know: joe was a perfectionist. he needed everything to be perfect, and he struggled with that in college. you could see him still struggling with it now.

joe grabbed a napkin, placing a slice on it. he appreciated how you read him. that without saying much, or anything at all, you picked up on things. you filled a hole in his chest, your warmth rooting down into the depths of his soul, reminding him of who he was. you were the rock he stood on, the hand who pulled him out of the darkness, the safety net that caught him when he fell. his chest constricted as the realization dawned on him.

he was still madly and utterly in love with you.

—

it was dark before you left the park. you spent hours there, catching up on everything. from his football career to his family, from your graduation to promotion at work. talking to joe filled you with such joy, a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time you’ve realized. you meshed well with him, your ideas and beliefs parallel to one another. he was still the boy you were best friends with, the boy who had a star wars themed bedroom and watched spongebob on the weekends. he was still joey, just with more muscle and a lot taller.

you gathered your things and the remaining pizza slices, climbing back into the car. the car ride back to your apartment was silent, and the urge to grab his hand was overwhelming. your eyes watched as one hand rested on the steering wheel while the other rested on his thigh. you just caught up after 6 years, grabbing his hand didn’t make sense. no matter how badly you wanted to feel his fingers locked with yours.

his fingers drummed against the steering wheel, his eyes lazily scanning the road ahead of him. he glanced over at you, watching as you turned your fingers over in your lap.

“what happened to your finger?” he asked, seeing the angry, red mark after passing under a streetlight.

“i burnt it doing my hair earlier, it’s no big deal,” you shrugged, but the throbbing in said finger was a big deal. it was worse now that you weren’t completely distracted. with a rush of confidence, fueled by adrenaline, he grabbed your hand. his hands were surprisingly soft, but you could feel the hard skin that’s built up over the years. his hands were warm, and it was the distraction you needed from the throbbing in your finger. you smiled to yourself, feeling your cheeks warm as you held joe’s hand. this had to be a movie.

he pulled into your apartment, throwing the car into park.

“take the pizza,” he told you as he helped you out of the car.

“what? no, i can’t do that,”

“yes, i insist,” he shoved the box into your hands with a smile, only making you smile and roll your eyes. he walked with you up to your apartment, watching as you fiddled with your keys. you didn’t want to leave. you wanted to stay with him, keep talking to him and just be with him. you didn’t realize how healing it was to just sit with him.

“i had fun,” you started, smiling up at him.

“i did too,” he agreed, shoving his hands into his pockets, “we need to do this again,”

“we definitely do,” you agreed. silence sat between you, but so did tension. it strengthened with every passing second, but you weren’t going to do anything about it.

“well, i’ve got to get some sleep. got work early in the morning,” you awkwardly sighed, fitting your key into the lock.

“yeah, me too,” he agreed.

“night, joey,” you smiled as you turned the lock. his heart thumped against his chest, his hands shaking in his pockets.

“y/n, wait,” he called, softly grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. you expected him to say something, but he didn’t. instead you were met with his lips on yours. bliss erupted in your stomach, fluttering away as his lips melded against yours. kissing him back was like second nature, but your heart thumped so hard in your chest you thought you were going to be sick.

he pulled away, cheeks rosy and eyes sparkling. he watched you, his stomach churning and his heart aching. what the hell did he just do? he kissed you, but why? he was in love with you.

“i…i’m sorry i don’t know what got into me-”

“it’s ok,” you soothed, trying to calm your fraying nerves, “i um, yeah it’s ok, promise,” you awkwardly stumbled your way through the words, the words that were failing to come to you. you just kissed joe burrow, your best friend who you haven’t spoken to in 6 years prior to this, and you liked it. you wanted him to kiss you again. you wanted him to touch every single inch of your body and it terrified you.

“ok,”

“goodnight, joe,” you smiled, watching as he walked off. he was shaking, his legs like jello as he made his way back to the car. he sat there for a minute, his breath shaking as he turned the car on. he’s always wanted to kiss you, and he did, but should he have? should he have waited? his chest tightened, but he shook it off. no, no you said it was ok, so it was.

you stumbled into your apartment once he was out of sight, and you pressed your back against the door. you panted, thoughts consumed with the taste and feel of joe’s lips on yours. you locked the door and disappeared into your bedroom, shutting your door behind you.

neither of you were getting any sleep that night.

tags: @joeyfranchise @wickedfun9

[b4rfbrain]

clothes aren’t fun anymore i don’t think i like fashion that much anymore everything is just in-group signaling and it’s so…… boring. and tired. i’m tired.

i feel like no one cares about the actual clothes they wear and more so just what it means or says about them that they’re wearing it

maybe i just need to leave new york

[seeminglydark]

A look-book and little break-down of Caro’s style and fashion Journey. I didn’t include their cheer uniform or GasCo uniform because those really didn’t influence their actual style much, other than the Varsity jacket and work jacket. I thought it would be fun to set it up almost like a magazine article and I’m in love with the results. I hope you enjoy it too. (The cover is my fave thing ever, just so you know.)

Here’s the Text:

Caro Greene, Cheerleader to Ghosthunter! An exclusive look at superstar Caro Greene’s style evolution. From femme to them!

The Teenage Years! Caro has been aware the high-femme style their parents chose for them was not the look they wanted for a long time, but didn’t know how to address it. Pairing their best friends tee-shirt over their Prom dress was the first step in figuring out their own personal style! From there, they tested out the route of borrowed too-big sweaters whenever they weren’t under the watchful eye of their family.

GasCo Era! Years of emotional neglect build until Caro chops off their hair, an asset more important to their parents than their happiness, and finds themself abruptly homeless, with nothing but some jeans, shirts and an oversized jacket belonging to their long-gone boyfriend. They get a job at the local gas station, and are gifted a new jacket that fits, with their new name on it, in their favorite color! More gender exploration leads them to a better haircut, and their first time trying a binder, and starting to not hate how they look.

Thrift stores, Sneakers, and T! Now in a new environment with supportive people at the GasCo, Caro discovers thrift stores and the tacky ‘80s aesthetic of their dreams. After years of other people controlling their body and looks, starting on low T is a big step in taking back control. They start wearing crop tops and sleeveless tees to show off new body hair, but also love chunky colored sweaters since they’re always cold. Sneakers go with everything, and when you’re short, the possibilities are endless in the kids shoes section.

Mil-Liminal! Caro’s podcast Mil-Liminal goes viral, and they are given the choice of staying faceless and anonymous, or taking the stage in live shows. They decide to do a face reveal, and that means choosing an iconic ‘look’ for their live performances. They choose their favorite color, GasCo Purple, and a jacket that is a blend of their varsity jacket and GasCo work jacket, two clothing pieces that always made them comfortable. They wear their trans identity on their sleeve, and top it off with the snapback look they donned years ago on their first venture ‘out’ as a teenager. The rest is history!

Current Caro! Which brings us to the present! There’s been some small changes, oversized sweaters and tees with a cosmic theme, which is new for the usually spookified Caro. They’re sporting white hair instead of their trademark blond, and have added a cross earring and a pendant to their Mil-Liminal uniform. A black snapback shows up as often as the purple one, and there’s a new bounce in their step, but perhaps they’ve just been indulging in too much coffee these days.

Caro Green is from my webcomics Seemingly Dark and Mil-Liminal, and podcast Mil-Liminal.

[periprose]

Can I have a Logan Howlett x Angel!Fem!Reader where Logan sees the reader in the kitchen having a bit of a meltdown and uncomfortable feeling over holding a knife (for like, cooking reasons or smth) and he calms her down because the reader just doesn’t want to hurt anyone :(? I’d appreciate it thanks! (I’ve seen you wanted more Angel reader, so im here to reciprocate :3)

AHhhh this fits so well Anon (maybe unintentionally so, the previous fic had a little snippet about Angel's mom trying to stab her when she was young...) but I love your brain. I made it a bit longer and added some stuff and it's set before the previous Logan Gains a Guardian Angel fic (LGGA for short) so they're not together yet.

Knives Drip Chocolate (or, Logan Gains a Guardian Angel)

Word Count: 2.9k

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt with comfort, mutual pining, idiots in love, mild traumatic flashback stuff (but no violence)

LGGA Masterlist

Logan is always ready for a late-night snack.

It’s hard for him to feel full, a lot of the time– he didn’t always have the easiest access to food, and he’s known for a while, if there’s a brief period in his immortal-like life where he can just relax about food and supplies, he shouldn’t take that for granted. 

Plus with an accelerated healing factor, sometimes his body starts digesting food too quickly, leading to faster body repair, but nothing to feel satisfied about.

So he’s got tons of cravings. Something that you are constantly bothered about, even now, as Logan knocks on your door, asking yet again if you’d accompany him to the kitchen.

Not that you actually mind. Sometimes you think you’d follow Logan into hell if he asked nicely enough, despite your occasionally evasive attitude keeping him on his toes.

“Angel, please. I’m starving.” Logan’s grumpy complaints are muffled behind your door, and you wonder why a nearly 200 year old man needs you so badly, to be by his side, when he’s spent so long being a loner.

“I’m coming.” You yawn, pulling yourself out of your bed– Storm is your roommate, and she’s passed out, stone cold. You quickly finger comb your hair, and fix your giant t-shirt, so your shoulder isn’t so exposed.

Silly, because you know Logan doesn’t care.

It’s bad. It’s really, really bad, because you don’t want to get attached to Logan, not when he’s sure to toss you aside like he’s done with the rest of them eventually. But you can’t help yourself– Logan is easy to be around, he knows your fears and little quirks, and he has never treated you like you’re so different for being a little quiet, like him. 

You know everyone has noticed. When you open your bedroom door, and Logan stares at you for a moment– an unreadable, soft glance in his eyes, one that you could choose to ignore, but don’t, as you stare back at him– you know all the other X-Men see it. Some silly crush you have on him, that clearly confuses Logan himself as he shakes his head, and pulls you by the arm out of your room, your PJs and hair askew.

Logan himself looks good, you have to admit– wearing lazy sweatpants and a white tank-top, his arm muscles looking especially defined tonight– and you pull your arm away, embarrassed that you give into these feelings so easily.

He’s only ever going to be your best friend. Even now, there’s nothing romantic about the way Logan asks if you want a ham and cheddar sandwich, too. He’s just looking out for you. 

Jean, Scott, and Storm have literally asked you, more than once, if you and Logan had maybe slept together, or kissed, or anything that would be a culmination of some supposed lust, in which case you always laugh awkwardly and deny everything. 

Your excuse is that it’s deeper than that, and it’s one-sided. What would be the point of bringing it up if it would just end in heartbreak?

“Earth to Angel.” Logan shakes your arm, breaking your stride. “Hey, that’s kind of funny, isn’t it? You’re always up in Heaven. Daydreaming about who the hell knows what.”

“Haha, Logan.” You mockingly say in a deadpan voice. “What is it?”

“Your wings are flexing a little bit, again, like they’re about to open. They’re kind of pulsing.” He says it in a soft tone, ushering in some concern he has, and you find yourself wishing that you were someone normal, someone that Logan didn’t have to care so much about. 

It’s not that you’re not happy to have his concern, it’s just that you don’t know what to do with it. Thank him for it? You have never been used to people looking out for you.

“It’s fine. Sometimes I get muscle spasms, it’s nothing to worry about.” You mutter, knowing it has to do with anxiety, but Logan looks a bit unconvinced.

“Okay. But if you keep having weird tremors, I’m taking you to the hospital wing so you can get diagnosed.” Logan states, and you open your mouth to argue, but he tuts. “No arguing about this. Last thing we need is for you to die from stress or cancer or something.”

Your heartbeat quickens, not at the mention of cancer, but because Logan used we and now you’re just thinking about how you’re always together.

Not like that, though.

“Okay, Logan. I get it.” You shake your head. “I won’t die.” 

“Not yet. We got snacks to eat.” Logan agrees, as he leads you into the kitchen.

/

Logan’s got you working on making hot chocolate as he makes the sandwiches, pan-frying them till the cheese is hot and melty. 

It’s not really a common mix, you think, but you’re just happy to be helping.

“Careful. Milk boils over fast.” Logan comments from next to you, mostly focused on his own side of the stove, and you roll your eyes.

“I know that.” You retort, but as you look away from the stove for one second, the pot of milk nearly does boil over, and you swear, reducing the heat quickly.

Logan starts laughing. “Told you.”

You shove him lightly, and he has a stupid grin on his face, one where you know Logan takes such joy in teasing you at times. Like this is one of the greatest pleasures in life.

You move the milk over to the counter, to let it cool, and then remember something semi-important. 

“Logan? Don’t forget, Scott wanted extra ham for the Hawaiian pizza they’re making tomorrow–” As you’re reminding him, Logan wordlessly shows you the empty ham package, telling you that he used all of it for the sandwiches.

“You snooze, you lose.” Logan shrugs, and you close your eyes in partial defeat, trying not to laugh at his antics.

“I guess, but you never seem to lose, and Scott’s always chewing me out for your ‘mistakes.’” You point at yourself, tongue poking through the side of your mouth, and Logan raises his eyebrows. “Tell me: Am I snoozing, or are you just lucky that I take the blame?”

“Ah, Angel… you’re obviously asleep.” Logan smirks, and you scoff at his audacity, having expected a semi-apology from him. “No one ever said you had to take the blame for my snacks. You could’ve just told him it was Jean, and he wouldn’t have asked any questions.”

You blink at him. “Lying to our team’s leader aside, why Jean?”

“C’mon. Scott’s crazy over her, they’ve been together for however long, and he can never say no to her. It’s the perfect excuse– he wouldn’t even ask her about missing food, so not to offend his sweetheart.” Logan pauses, a thoughtful look taking over his features, and he scratches his chin. “I guess love really is blind.”

“Wow. You had that takeaway based on gaslighting both Scott and Jean? You really are an unfeeling old man.” You giggle, and Logan glances over at you, his face heating up at your laugh, a sweet sound that always pushes a warmth into his chest.

If Logan was honest, he understands Scott perfectly. Sure, he could play the part of the curmudgeonly old man, and lie to you– but in truth, he was doing that because he likes you.

Just like Scott. Logan likes you so much, that he would honestly lie to you just to protect your relationship– whether that be about missing food, or if you talk about some other dude someday, and he has to pretend he’s all ecstatic for you, as he often worries about. 

He knows it’s bad. And he doesn’t like it, either. Logan insists to himself, in pure self denial, that this love he has for you doesn’t exist, because he would rather be given even a little bit of your presence as a friend, than to be entirely shut out by you upon imminent rejection.

But even he knows he protests too much. Of course he loves you, how could he not?

Logan thinks of you as his personal guardian Angel. It’s silly, of course– but you’re the one who helps him make better choices, doing the right thing more often than not. He’s an idiot– you’re a beautiful genius of a woman, and it bothers him so deeply that you keep to yourself.

He looks over at you. You’re chopping up a bar of dark chocolate, and your gaze is intensely focused– Logan has seen the same expression on you when you’re beating up a bad guy. You’re thinking, murmuring something to yourself, probably thinking about hot chocolate.

Your eyes turn wide, glassy, and you inhale sharply.

Logan immediately comes to your side. “Angel?”

Logan’s voice doesn’t fully register to you.

The knife gleams in the low lighting of the kitchen, as you turn it over and over in your hand, dark brown chocolate smudging the blade, and then you look down to your palms.

Where your hands are covered in dark, melted chocolate, after you’ve been holding the chocolate bar to chop it up– the liquid is almost amber in hue. 

“...blood.” You whisper something unintelligible, but Logan catches the last word.

You retch to yourself, hyperventilating over the counter, back hunched over, the knife still clenched in your palm.

“Angel, hey–” Logan squeezes his way between the counter and your right arm, where your hand is holding the knife, and he firmly pulls it away from you, grabbing it blade-first without even thinking about it, and you gasp, shouting at him to get away.

Logan stops, at a loss for words. You’re trembling, you’re no longer holding the knife, but you can’t stop looking at your hands.

He grabs your arms a bit more gently, turning you towards him, and you’re lost in some train of thought that Logan can’t stop.

Mom sliced up one of my hands once… it’s been years, but it looked just like this.

Then I got her back, by accident… it was an accident, Angel.

“What’s wrong?” Logan looks down at you in fear, worry that something may actually be very wrong, and you haven’t told him a thing.

He thinks he shouldn’t have assumed you were always alright. He knows you aren’t– he just finds it difficult to surpass your avoidant attitude. He’s never seen you have a full blown panic attack like this before.

Your wings are subtly twitching again, folded against your back, but threatening to open up to full expanse, and you shake your head, lip quivering, as you look down at the floor.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” You utter so softly, so heartbreakingly tiny, and Logan feels himself turning cold at your words, wondering if you’d really done something that terrible.

With a kitchen knife, of all things. He wants to hug you firmly now.

He knows even if it was true– there’s no way that was your fault, no way Logan wouldn’t have sussed that out based on instinct. 

“It isn’t…” Logan starts, wanting to say it wasn’t your fault, but he doesn’t know how that will go over with you. “You’re not going to hurt anyone. Where is that coming from?”

“Just a bad memory.” You say with a shaky breath, the most information you’re willing to give him at this moment, and you know– you know– Logan is never going to be satisfied with that answer.

You don’t want to scare him off. This is the first time you could even say you have a best friend, and you don’t want Logan to pity you or feel like you were incapable of taking care of yourself. You don’t want him to see you like your mother did.

Logan frowns. Then, instead of asking you a question, he traces the back of your wings, which causes a shiver in your body.

You close your eyes, expecting to feel tense, scared, and horrified, but instead you feel calm, almost placid. Being touched by Logan makes you feel like everything is going to be alright.

Your wings stop shaking, and Logan hands you a wet paper towel. You wipe your chocolatey hands, which puts you at ease, seeing your clean hands again. 

“Sorry. I don’t mean to make you my caretaker.” You whisper, always worried about others’ perception of you, and Logan shakes his head.

“I don’t mind, Angel. As long as you’re alright.” Logan has a tentative look on his face, and you’re almost embarrassed, that you like being taken care of so badly, and he hugs you tightly, arms wrapped around your back, a near bone crushing hug that has you nestled in his chest, fit under his jaw as he places his head on top of yours.

Your heartbeat slows down. You’re not panicking any more, but it seems like Logan, too, is reaping some sort of benefit by being so close to you. He inhales deeply, and the sigh rumbles through his chest into you.

You could almost cry. You spent so much of your childhood never being close to anyone, and being held is cathartic in a way you can’t even describe.

Logan doesn’t let go until you do. Then he has the audacity to look a little sheepish, like he had done something un-Logan and uncool, and you almost feel pained, like you should push him away, and go to sleep on your own.

It’s such an odd feeling, to both want his concern, and to wish you never needed to do so.

You stare up at him, and Logan smiles, a soft smile that he hopes reads as comforting rather than a snarl, and you can’t help yourself for what you ask next.

“Could I sleep in your room?” You ask, biting back the immediate disclaimers of it’s okay if you don’t want to. “I’m just better when I’m around you.”

There’s also the thing of waking up Storm if you enter back in now, and explaining that you had yet another panic attack. She’ll be mad.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.” Logan murmurs, wondering if you meant to make that sound so devotedly sweet, something that causes his insides to seize a little.

He feels better around you, too.

You’re usually good at hiding this side of yourself from him– it’s another step deeper, another step too far into your relationship to take back– and now you worry you’ll never really be able to separate.

Logan ruffles your hair, and all is right again.

/

He makes you eat at least a bite of the sandwich, and sip a little hot chocolate– the rest is placed in the fridge for some other mutant to eat.

Logan won’t let you go to sleep without a meal, or in this case a few nibbles, if he can help it.

“Moods are worse on an empty stomach.” Logan grins, and you smile, feeling a little more at ease.

“You’re not you when you’re hungry.” You joke, and Logan rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, save that for when we’re pilfering Kurt’s Snickers bars.” He snorts. 

Logan leads you to his room, oddly silent the entire time. It’s not that Logan isn’t typically quiet, it’s that it feels more tense. He’s keeping to himself, and he doesn’t seem to have anything against you– he has only a kind expression for you, when you meet his eyes.

Finally, you both arrive to his bedroom door. Logan is lucky– he doesn’t have to room with anyone– and you’ve been in here plenty of times.

Still, that doesn’t explain why it takes him a second to enter in the room, as you follow him in.

It’s sparsely decorated in here– one poster of the Calgary Flames is on Logan’s wall, and there’s a mug with random, assorted pens on his desk. His bed has never been filled with loads of stuffed animals and pillows like other X-Men (read: Jubilee) would have. There’s a pile of assorted flannels, jackets, and scarves hanging off a coat rack.

It’s comforting, though. Logan is a simple man, and you like being close enough to understand him, to see the small remnants of things he likes.

“Well. The bed’s there, if you’d like. Don’t let me stop you.” Logan points to the bed, and he starts walking towards the leather recliner next to the window.

“Logan. Stop.” You grab him by the arm, and he pauses, slightly scared, mostly enthused by what you’ll say next. “It’s okay with me if we sleep next to each other.”

“...Okay.” Logan watches as you climb into his bed, hoping it’s comfortable, and doing a weird thing of personally memorizing the way you lay and snuggle down, in case you never do this again.

You’re next to the wall, so Logan stays on his side, lying down close to the edge of the bed. And you’re keeping your distance– so is he.

You turn, and Logan is already looking at you. He glances away.

“Good night, Angel.” Logan utters softly, and with that, you turn to your side, to fall asleep.

/

When Logan wakes up, he freezes, so not to move you. Somehow, through out the night, you ended up snuggled around him, sprawled against his chest, your arms lightly wrapping around him.

He loves it. He’s glad to see he’s been useful for once– he gave you a good night’s sleep.

[reidsbabyhoney]

night out | hozier

the one where he gets drunk and falls in love with you all over again.

pairing: hozier x wife!reader category: fluff cw: drinking, being at a bar wc: 1.7k a/n: I'm so so sorry this took so long to write, I just had midterms for all of my classes and had absolutely no free time, but I'm finally on break so Im hoping to get more stories out these next couple of weeks! this was a request, so i hope you love it. reader is a book store owner and that is very self indulgent of my dreams of one day maybe owing a book store if nothing else works out for me. (outfit described can be found here, but as always imagine it however you like

masterlist hozier masterlist

This was the first time in what felt like years that you and Andrew were finally taking up an offer to go out.

Since the tour began, the band had invited you both out multiple times, but neither of you accepted, claiming to be too tired after the shows.

Since this was the first time that you had been able to join Andrew on tour, you were taking up as much quality time as you could get from him when he wasn't busy running around during sound check and doing interviews.

That was another reason you both declined going out multiple times deciding to spend...quality time with each other behind the doors of hotel rooms.

But tonight, you both agreed to go out when Alex asked if you would be joining the rest of the band, saying they were going to a bar just down the street from the hotel you were staying at.

Walking down the sidewalk to the bar, you’re hand in hand with Andrew who’s softly humming to himself.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he says, taking in your outfit.

It was nothing extravagant, though you did want to look a bit nicer. Just a simple satin slip dress with some red boots for a pop of color and your usual purse.

“Mm thank you, you look handsome tonight too, I say we just go back to the hotel room,” you respond with a mischievous smile.

He’s simply wearing a jumper with a white t-shirt underneath and a pair of jeans, but the way his sleeves are rolled up makes you want to drag him back to the hotel room and stay there for days.

At your remark, he playfully pinches your hip and shakes his head, “No, you minx. We’re going out because you wanted to, let’s keep that in mind.”

You let out a huff as he opens the door to the bar, which looks to be busy as you eye the tables are full of people.

Surveying the bar, you quickly spot Melissa and both make your way towards the table they’ve claimed.

After greeting them all, everyone goes their own way. Alex decides to drag Andrew to the corner of the bar where the pool tables are stationed.

Over hearing his plans on getting your husband absolutely hammered tonight, you simply shake your head with a small laugh and send him off with a kiss.

An hour passes and you've had a few drinks, deciding to stay near the table and observe everyone in the cramped space.

Realizing you haven't seen Andrew in a while, you get up from your spot at the table, asking Joy if she’d seen him anywhere.

“Oh yeah, last I saw he and Alex were by the bar, I think Melissa might be over there too,” she says, pointing to where Andrew’s tall body stood at the end of the bar.

“Thank you.”

You walk over to where the three of them are standing, deciding to talk to Melissa first since Alex seems to have your husband deep in thought.

“Please tell me he hasn’t had more than 4 drinks,” you say to Melissa as she just lets out a laugh.

“I’m afraid he might be well past that y/n/n.”

Turning towards Andrew you see him looking at you as if he was met with the most divine creature in the world.

“Go on, talk to the pretty girl Andy,” says Alex, trying his hardest to hold back a laugh.

Your eyebrows basically reach your hairline as he says that, no way he’s so hammered he’s forgotten you’re married.

“Hi, em, hi, m’names Andrew, or Andy’s fine too,” he says looking a bit shy.

You just look towards Alex instead of answering, "Alex, when you said you planned on getting him hammered, I didn't think you meant it was going to be this bad!"

All he does is laugh and shrug his shoulders, finding this situation amusing.

Sighing, you know there’s no way that he’ll believe you’re truly married if you try explaining it to him now, so you decide to play into it a bit.

Smiling you shake your head and respond “ I’m y/n, it’s great to meet you Andy.”

Both Melissa and Alex just laugh, deciding to leave you both in the empty corner of the bar.

“I hope I’m not being too forward y/n, but you’re truly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You grow a bit shy at his words, your cheeks covered in a faint blush. The conversation is reminding you of when you first met years ago, his words almost the exact same.

“No baby, not too forward at all."

“I just, well not to sound creepy, but you caught my eye while you were sitting down over there and I'm afraid to admit I was nervous to go over and introduce myself first," he says looking down at his hands as if he's embarrassed by his confession.

Your smile brightens at his words. You're truly about to swoon over this man all over again.

"Well then, I'm glad I came over here first. How about we go sit down with our friends over there yeah?” you say, pointing to where the rest of the band is.

Andrew responds by quickly nodding his head and grabbing your hand to guide you through the still very packed bar.

“Here come the lovebirds.”

Of course it’s Alex that says this, still finding extreme delight in your husband's current state.

Looking at the rest of the table, it seems like he’s caught everyone up on what’s happened because they all look at you with small smiles on their faces.

Taking your seat at the booth, sitting between Joy and Andrew the conversation starts back up again.

Your husband turns towards you and begins asking you questions.

"So, y/n, where are y'from," he asks. He's looking at you as if trying to memorize your every feature.

You shy under his intense stare, and it takes you a second to respond.

"Well, I live in Ireland."

His eyes basically pop out of his skull at your answer, surprised as if there aren't millions of people living in the country.

"Seriously, me too," his eyes bright with excitement realizing that this could possibly go somewhere, little does he [currently] know, it already has.

"Yeah I live in County Wicklow with my husband."

His face brightens then immediately falls once you finish your sentence.

"Husband?"

"Baby, look at your left hand for me, yeah?"

Doing as you say, Andrew looks at his hand that's rested on the table, finally noticing the wedding ring on his finger.

"Now take it off and look inside," you say, taking off your ring to show him the matching engraving details on the inside of both your rings.

"Andrew & y/n. April 23, 2022," he says reading the date of your wedding.

It takes him a second to realize what it means, but once it clicks, he's looking up at you, wide eyed.

"We're married! Alex, why didn't you say I was married to her," he says turning to his friend, who seems all too pleased that this conversation is happening.

Alex simply takes a swig of his beer and chuckles, "Y'never asked."

Andrew then turns towards you with embarrassment washing over his features, "Gods, I'm mortified love, and you're never going to let me live this down are you?"

You just shake your head and laugh, planting a kiss on his cheek, "Nope."

Laughing at his reaction, you decide that it may be time to leave, realizing it's nearing one in the morning.

"C'mon, let's go back to the hotel so you have enough rest to actually be embarrassed about this tomorrow."

With that, you get out of the booth and say your goodbyes to everyone.

Walking out of the bar, there's a slight chill in the air, causing Andrew to take off his sweater and hand it to you.

Taking it, you pull it over your dress and walk hand in hand back to the hotel.

Reaching your room, you pull out the key card to your shared room, opening the door wide enough for both of you to walk in.

"I can't believe I'm so far gone I didn't even remember we were married," Andrew says as he sits down on the bed to take off his shoes.

"I know, me either, I mean how could you forget you were married to me," you say jokingly, dragging your hands down your body to emphasize what he was forgetting.

Andrew just laughs and shakes his head.

He notices you going to the bathroom and turns towards you, "Aren't you coming to bed?"

"In a bit, I just need to take off my makeup," you reply.

Andrew patiently waits for you in the bed in his pajamas which consist of a pair of pajama pants that are far too old to still be worn, and a beat up shirt he'll eventually take off, claiming to be too hot. (Even though he'll later wrap his arms around you dragging you as close as he possibly could, and wake up in the morning complaining that you "radiate too much body heat", even if he's the one that starts the cuddling.)

Shortly after, you make your way out of the bathroom, fresh faced and in your own pajamas.

Getting under the covers you turn on the lamp on your nightstand and expectantly wait for Andrew to do the same.

When he doesn't, you look towards the end of the bed where he's sat.

"Andy, aren't you coming to bed?"

"I, I know we're married but, it feels odd sleeping with you, I feel like I should take you out to dinner first," he says sheepishly, finally turning to face you.

"Don't worry, you've wined and dined me many times, so I'm not worried about that, now let's go to sleep," you say.

Finally Andrew gets on his side of the bed, turning on his side so that he's facing you.

Letting out an exasperated sigh he just shakes his head and one final time asks, "I'm never forgetting about this am I?"

Letting out a fake snore, you pretend you're asleep instead of answering him though he already knows the answer.

Andrew just chuckles, knowing that whatever comes tomorrow would be worth it, cause he got to relive what it felt like to fall in love with you again.

divider: @fairytopea

tags: @man-i-love-folklore @the-song-of-flowers @songbirds-sweet @cowboycatreign @harnans @celery-grace @genevievetaylorsversion22 @alexis-34 @inejghafawifesblog @colddarkearth23 @hauntedworld @sleepy-time-dreamy @lemon9de @midsummervixen

[into-the-grey]

New Year, New Us

Best Friend!Noah Sebastian x F!Reader (18+)

Summary: You and Noah have been close forever, but who knew that new year's could make such a mess?

W.C: 6.6k

Taglist: @anything-more-than-human @blend-in-with-the-madness @rumoured-whispers @thisbicc

Warnings: Alcohol, drunk sex, p in v (unprotected, cause they're idiots), slight fingering (f!recieving), sadness, angst.

Masterlist

A couple more warnings under the cut for those who don't care about spoilers.

Spoiler Warnings: talk of abortion, talk of pregnancy, talk of pro-life v pro choice

ON WITH THE SHOW

The day had been dragging on, and the city was buzzing with excitement and preparations for the coming evening. New Year's Eve, time to wish the last year farewell and move into better days.

Or so you hoped.

The guys had decided to have a get-together. What was originally going to be a few friends and a few drinks had quickly turned into planning a party. You were a little nervous, but it wouldn't be the first time you'd gone to a party at their house.

Noah usually stuck by your side during these events, being a buffer between you and a stranger was easy enough for him. He knew you could get anxious, but he also knew you liked meeting people. It was complicated, but he understood.

'What's the dress code?' You asked him jokingly, your phone on speaker while you brushed your hair. You'd been on the phone with him for about an hour while he ran some last minute errands, picking up snacks and an extra case of white claws.

'I don't know if there is one, but considering the amount of girls Folio invited, probably clothing optional,' Noah snickered.

'Hey, maybe you'll get lucky with one of his spares,' you joked, spraying your hair with a heat protectant before picking up your straightener and adding some curls around your face.

'Maybe,' he said. You could hear his smile in his voice. 'I don't know, I was just gonna wear something casual.'

'What, sweats and an oversized t-shirt?' You asked, running your fingers through a curl to break it up into a soft wave. 'Come on, it's new years, have a little bit of fun with it.'

'And what? Wear my stage clothes? A glittery blazer?'

'Okay first of all, you know that blazer was amazing, and second, you have nice clothes. If I have to do a FaceTime fashion show with you later, I will.'

Noah laughed, knowing you weren't kidding. You would take any excuse to dress him up, and sometimes it was good, other times it lead to some weird outfits.

'I'll tell you what, I'll just match whatever you wear. So if you go over the top, I'll go over the top. Deal?'

'Ah yes, more fuel for the dating rumour fire,' you smirked. 'Fine, I'll send you a picture of what I end up picking.'

'I'm not committing to anything until you show up, Y/N. I know you'll find something insane and then change before you leave just so I'm overdressed.'

'I would never-!' You tried to scoff, but Noah cut you off quickly.

'November 2014, that party at Damon's house.'

'Oh shit, yeah I forgot about that,' you mused. 'You looked good in pink.'

'And you were in jeans and a T-shirt, you brat.' You could hear him trying not to laugh. It had become a cherished memory, despite the awkwardness at the time.

Noah's bright pink sweater had looked pretty good though, and you would stand by it.

The clicking sound of the handbrake being applied sounded through the phone, telling you that Noah was home.

'Alright, I'll be over in about an hour, okay?' You told him, shaking out another curl and watching your hair bounce in the mirror.

'Okay. I meant it, I'll match what you do, so don't fuck me over this time?'

'I won't, I promise. I'll figure something out so you might get a girl later,' you teased. You could picture him rolling his eyes as he said goodbye.

The phone beeped, disconnecting the call and resuming your Spotify playlist. While you finished your hair, you ran through some outfit ideas in your head. If you were going to try and get Noah to look good, you needed to wear something he couldn't argue with.

You had just the outfit in mind.

***

The sun had finally set, and it was time to go. You Ubered to Noah's house, since drinking was an inevitability. You had already planned to crash in Noah's room, like so many other nights.

As you entered the house, the boys were setting up, stashing drinks in coolers and searching for bowls to serve chips in.

'Hey Y/N!' Folio called, waving as you passed.

'Hey! Have you seen him?' You asked.

'Upstairs, he told us you're probably gonna make him wear something stupid so he's trying to hide all his worst clothes,' Folio cackled.

'That sneaky shit,' you laughed, heading up the stairs. 'He's not getting off that easy.'

You had thrown an oversized sweater on over your dress. It felt too early to be wearing something like that, and the sweater made you feel more comfortable until the festivities started.

Plus, Folio had wandering eyes, and you didn't need that just yet.

'Noah,' you called out, tapping on his bedroom door.

'Yeah?'

'Quit hiding your clothes, I have a mental inventory of your wardrobe, dipshit.'

The door swung open, and Noah scowled at you. You met his scowl, flipping him off before you both laughed. You trod into his room, seeing a pile of clothes crammed under his desk.

'Only you would have dedicated my entire closet to memory,' he said, sitting down on his bed.

'Because I think I bought eighty five percent of your clothes?' You shrugged, sitting on his desk chair and crossing your legs.

'So what's the vibe? A sweater and heels?' He asked, raising an eyebrow and looking you up and down.

'Oh no, this is just until the party. The sweater is staying in your room,' you smirked, looking from him and back to the pile of clothes. 'You tried to strip everything, didn't you?'

'Maybe...'

In the closet there were only a few tops left. Most of them were oversized tshirts or bad omens merch. But in the back you could see a few nicer shirts.

Noah watched as you stood, grabbing the black button down and tossing it at him.

'Where's your suit pants?' You asked, peering through the pile under his desk.

'Second drawer, in the back. The belt is with them.'

'Glad to see you've accepted your fate,' you told him with a laugh. Noah's lips curved into a small smile.

'With you? I know you'll keep your promise. No point fighting you.' He stood, turning away from you and taking his shirt off.

While you found his pants and belt, he buttoned up his shirt. Next you went rifling through the jewellery stand, selecting a couple of rings and his gold watch.

'I swear to god, Y/N, you're not seriously dressing me up like one of those Mafia guys in the books you read, are you?' Noah groaned, buckling his belt before turning to face you.

You picked up the chain he usually wore, debating if it was too much. Ultimately deciding against it, you put it down and closed the closet door.

'If I am, it's not intentional, but you look good,' you told him, handing him the rings and the watch.

He slipped the accessories on, looking at himself in the mirror on the closet door. You stood beside him, arms crossed and lips pursed. You hummed to yourself, trying to think what was missing.

'Lose a button,' you finally said.

'Seriously?' He laughed.

'If my tits are gonna be out, so are yours. Lose a button. And roll up your sleeves, Jesus, we're not in church anymore,' you giggled.

Noah's cheeks heated at the mention of your tits, but you didn't notice it. Now he was curious to see what you were hiding under the sweater.

As he followed your instructions, you realised that the house was starting to fill with noise. People were arriving, and someone had turned on the stereo.

'Shit, it's eight already?' Noah said, looking at the watch on his wrist.

'Yup. Ready to mingle?' You said, giggling. You tried to mask your nerves, but Noah knew you too well.

'If you want to stay up here we can, you know? Or I'll just stay with you the whole time?'

'I'll be okay,' you promised him. 'Get two drinks in me and I'll be a functional adult, no anxiety to be seen.'

He rolled his eyes at you, shaking his head slightly.

'Alright, you win, mingling it is.'

Before you could leave the room, Noah tutted at you.

'Forgetting something?' He asked.

You pursed your lips, quietly regretting your choices. Sure, your dress had convinced Noah to let you play barbie, and he looked hot, but now you had to bite the bullet and lose the sweater.

Sighing, you quickly lifted the sweater off, draping it on the back of his desk chair. Noah's eyes widened as he took in the dress... if it could be called a dress.

It was more like a second skin. It was unbelievably tight, hugging every curve. The neckline was more of a navel-line. The cleavage of the dress plunged down, showing off the space between your breasts and a little below them. The spaghetti straps weren't so much straps as superfine chains, and the hem of the dress hit the midpoint of your thigh, just cresting that part where it was dangerous to bend over.

A flush of warmth surged through Noah as he stared at you. Sure, you were best friends, but he wasn't blind.

'Holy shit, you weren't kidding about having your tits out. Where have you been hiding that?' He asked incredulously, crossing his arms over his chest.

'It was an impulse buy a few years ago. I've been waiting for an excuse to drag it out,' you shrugged, clearly feeling a little insecure.

'Y/N, I'm not leaving you alone tonight. The guys won't keep their hands to themselves if I do,' he laughed.

'Oh shit,' you giggled, knowing he was trying to boost your confidence. It was working.

'Maybe you should leave the sweater on, Folio's girls might get jealous...'

'Let 'em.'

***

Noah kept his promise, staying nearby and keeping an eye on you throughout the night. At first you hadn't thought he'd need to, but a couple of guys tried to hit on you, and even Folio got a little comfortable after a few drinks. When Noah wasn't busy batting away the other girls, he was close by, keeping people's hands off you.

As the hours wore on, and midnight grew closer, you found yourself drifting from a conversation to a drinking game and back again.

Outside by the fire pit there was a game of "never have I ever" going, and for the short time you and Noah joined, you ended up downing three shots and finishing a white claw. Noah didn't drink as much during that game, but he didn't do so well with beer pong.

You were both sufficiently buzzed when someone turned the tv on for the final countdown to midnight.

Noah dragged you inside, standing in a quiet corner while people filled the living room.

'Have you got a resolution this year?' He asked you, leaning against the wall.

'Have you?' You said simply, mirroring his stance, facing him with your shoulder on the wall.

'Nothing serious,' he said with a laugh, 'I wouldn't mind getting laid.'

'Oh god, same,' you agreed, turning and leaning your back against the wall. 'It has been way too long since I've had a good fuck.'

Noah nodded, chuckling with you. Through your drunken stupor you didn't see the way his eyes trailed over your body.

'Me too,' he nodded. 'You ever thought about the whole "friends with benefits" thing?'

'Yeah,' you sighed, 'but most guys who want that are only trying to cheat on their girlfriends or wives. I've never found a guy who was open to it without being a total sleaze.'

'Shame,' he said softly. The room was filling with people, everyone's eyes on the screen as the ball began to drop.

People began to yell out, counting down.

'Hey, Noah?' You asked, a stupid idea forming in your mind.

'Yeah?' He asked, watching you as a grin spread over your lips.

'Wanna do the midnight kiss thing? Just so we can say we did?'

THREE!

TWO!

ONE!

As the city filled with cries of "Happy New Year" and fireworks filled the sky, Noah's lips crashed to yours. It was sloppy, it was drunk, there was a lot of teeth to start with because the two of you were laughing so much, but it was fun.

His hand grabbed for your face, pulling you to him while you figured out your harmony.

You pulled back, giggling as you looked up at him. Your lipstick was smeared across his lips, his beautiful smile now tinted with streaks of deep red.

For a second, you were frozen, looking at each other with dumbstruck grins.

And then he kissed you again.

And this time it was careful, tender. This wasn't a joke anymore.

You kissed him back, feeling your body fluttering in every way while your head spun. His hand snaked to your lower back, pulling you closer to him. Your hand ran into his hair, your heart hammering in your chest.

You clung to him while your arm locked behind his neck, his tongue exploring your mouth in ways you'd never experienced.

For a moment, the din of the party fell away. It was just the two of you, clinging to each other like you'd just found the only life preserver left on a sinking ship. Fire burned through your veins, his touch only stoking the flames. It had been so long since anyone had touched you that way, since anyone craved you the way Noah seemed to in that moment.

His hands stayed on you as you panted, a small gap forming between you while you accustomed to breathing again.

'Upstairs,' you breathed, 'now.'

Noah didn't need to be told twice. He took your hand, guiding you through the still packed room of people making out with whoever they had chosen for the night. You climbed the stairs behind him and quickly made your way to his room. He lead you in, locking the door behind him and taking two quick strides towards you.

His hands ran over your body, pushing the chains off your shoulders while his lips pressed against yours fervently. You fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, wanting to just rip it off of him and send the buttons skittering across the carpet...

You'd never thought you'd want to do this with Noah, but now, the idea couldn't turn you on more.

His head dipped to your neck as you shoved the shirt off of his shoulders, his teeth clamping onto your throat and earning a whine from you.

His hands dropped lower, pulling the dress down until it pooled around your feet. You fought with his belt, determined to have him just as bare as you.

Finally, he helped, his rushed hands unbuckling the belt and letting his slacks fall to the floor.

Noah laid you down on the bed, hovering over you and kissing every part of your body he could reach.

'I have wanted to do this for so fucking long,' he breathed, taking your pert nipple into his mouth and sucking hard while his fingers slipped into your panties.

'Oh fuck,' you whimpered, his finger swirling over your clit.

Your core ached for him, and in your haze, you didn't have much patience for foreplay. You were so wet already, you didn't need it.

'Noah,' you begged, 'please...'

Returning to your face, Noah freed himself from his underwear, his cock springing up and slapping his abdomen. It was swollen, angry, and already leaking.

He slid your panties to the side, lining himself up with your entrance.

'You're sure about this?' He asked gently, kissing you again. The fervour had dimmed for a moment, his tone earnest and his eyes searching yours. All you had to do was say no and he would stop...

'I'm sure,' you told him, kissing him again.

'Okay.' He kept his lips on yours, kissing you deeply as he slid his cock into you. Slowly, inch by inch, he stretched you open. You hadn't had a real man between your legs in years, and vibrators only felt so real...

Noah moaned against your lips, your mouth falling open as he seated himself as deep as he could.

'Holy shit, Y/N, baby you feel so good,' he murmured, his cock twitching while you each adjusted to the squeeze and the stretch.

'Fucking hell, Noah,' you couldn't think of what to say, your mind was blown with pleasure and he hadn't even moved yet.

Slowly, Noah began to move, rolling his hips in a fluid motion. Your back arched into him while he figured you out.

'Does that feel good, baby?' He murmured, taking one of your breasts in his hand and pinching your nipple lightly, 'or do you want faster?'

'Faster,' you agreed, whining, 'oh god, you're so perfect.'

Noah chuckled against your skin, kissing at your neck and your jaw while he sped up. 'You're so wet, so tight,' he told you, 'you're everything I dreamed you would be.'

'You dreamed about this?'

'Mhmm, a lot.'

The idea of Noah secretly fantasising about you set your body on fire. You wondered how many times you'd missed him staring, how often he thought about it. Did he think of you when he was alone? Was it your name on his lips when he finished himself off in the early hours of the morning?

You could only hope he never found out that you'd named your favourite vibrator after him. It was a secret you had been harbouring for a while, and in those hours where it kept you company, you felt a pang of guilt every time you finished with a cry of his name.

But here? Now? You finally got to fulfil that secret dream of yours, knowing he thought of it too. Fuck the consequences. That would be a problem for tomorrow.

'Show me,' you mewled, 'oh god, show me what you dreamed about.'

Noah grinned, raking his teeth over your throat gently.

'Gladly.'

His hand dropped from your nipple to your pussy, his thumb swirling over your clit and shooting sparks through your body.

His pace increased, and he lifted your leg over his shoulder, letting his cock stroke deeper.

'Oh fuck,' you whimpered, feeling his tip drag along the fleshy spot that would turn you into a puddle.

'Good girl,' he grinned, kissing the inside of your leg as he fucked into you, 'look at your pussy, so eager for me, god, you're so perfect.'

Your muscles clenched, his words only driving you closer to climax.

'Keep talking, baby, please,' you begged.

'You like dirty talk? Or is it when I praise you?'

'Fuck, both, both,' you whined, gasping as he tormented you right where you needed it. Spots began to cloud your vision as he dragged you closer to the edge.

'You're doing so good for me, baby. I'm getting so close,' he breathed, 'you're getting so tight, you're gonna make me come.'

Endurance was a distant dream. With the drunk fog in your brain, there was nothing to think about. You were both operating on pure instinct and sensation, and the high was ready to crash over you like a tidal wave, dragging you into its deep waters.

'I'm gonna come,' you told him, your back arching and hands reaching for anything to hold on to. The delicious feeling was so close, teasing you.

'That's my girl. Come for me, I wanna feel you fall apart for me,' he groaned, his thrusts starting to falter and his fingertips digging into your hips. 'Come with me, baby.'

'Don't stop, oh god,' you cried, your muscles clenching hard around him.

'Fuck, so tight, so good,' he groaned, his head falling back as your orgasm finally peaked. It took everything in you not to scream.

Noah's laboured cries matched yours, moaning as he gave you his all, fucking through both of your orgasms and emptying himself into you.

'That... was... exactly... what I needed,' you gasped. Noah rested his head on your chest, his eyes fluttering closed.

'Definitely,' he agreed.

***

You awoke the next day to the sun peeking through the blinds.

An arm laid over you, the skin warm against yours. You rolled over in bed, trying to get away from the sunlight, and opened your eyes.

Through bleary eyes, you saw Noah. He was disheveled and his lips were covered in deep red streaks, completely knocked out on the pillow beside you.

The sight made you giggle a little, until you realised it was your lipstick.

And that you were naked.

And that your thighs were sticky.

'Oh shit,' you whisper, your head pounding as you sat up. Thankfully Noah didn't stir, and you slid out of the bed quietly.

Last nights events seeped back into your thumping head as the cool air hit your bare skin. You could still feel the ghost of his grip on your hips. In the mirror you could see the bruises of hickeys left on your neck and chest, each one ringed with a smear of lipstick that had journeyed from your mouth to his and all over your body.

Thankfully, your panties were still on, so you grabbed your sweater, throwing it on and covering yourself.

Your face burned as you looked at Noah, sleeping so peacefully. He slept like the dead, and you had never been more grateful for that. Snatching your phone off of his desk, you ordered an uber, not wanting to be around when Noah woke up.

The rest of the house seemed silent, and it was only nine. You hoped that everyone would still be asleep as you grabbed your shoes and your dress and silently left the room.

The house was a disaster, cups and streamers littered the halls and most surfaces. You paid no mind, edging your way to the front door. As you passed the small alcove where you and Noah had stood, you remembered what happened when midnight struck.

You had been the one to come on to him. You asked him to kiss you. You made things weird. Shame burned through you as you shook your head, cringing at yourself and the headache that the motion brought on.

Sure, the parts you could remember had been fun, but there was no way your friendship could be the same after this. You couldn't be sure what happened in those black spots.

You'd had a crush on Noah for a long time. Anyone with eyes would, and anyone who knew him loved him. Of course you'd fallen into that trap.

How could you be normal with him after having a taste of what could have been? And how quickly would he be repulsed by what happened?

Mercifully, the Uber didn't take long to arrive. You slipped out the front door, closing it as quietly as possible as you disappeared into the morning sun.

***

Noah tried to call you later that day. You had already decided to lie and say you slept for most of the day. But the weeks after? They were hard to bluff your way through.

He was your best friend, he knew something was up, and it was clear that it was hurting him that you were avoiding him.

He worried. He made it clear that he was concerned about you, pushing to talk to you. Every time, you blew it off and tried to dissuade him with a half truth about work.

You dodged phone calls, and you sent as many short texts as you could, trying to assure him that everything was fine, you were just busy. You even did everything you could just to keep yourself busy, trying to keep yourself somewhat honest.

Noah knew better than to believe you. He knew this behaviour. The last time you had dodged him like this, you were hiding the time you had spent in hospital after a bad night. When he finally found out the truth, he made you promise to call him instead, and this was the first time you'd broken that promise in years.

After a few weeks, he stopped waiting for you to come to him. Noah showed up at your house unannounced. He had let himself in and he sat on your couch to wait for you to get home from work.

When you opened your door that afternoon, you hand your head low. His truck in the drive was a giveaway, you knew he was waiting for you.

You considered not going inside, but you knew that he would stay all night if he had to.

Unlocking the door, you entered the house quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't notice you. Instead, his eyes followed you as you toed your shoes off by the door and kept your head down.

'Hey,' he called.

'Mm,' you mumbled back, beelining for the kitchen. You figured you could busy yourself making dinner or a coffee, anything to avoid him for a minute longer.

'Y/N.'

His voice was stern this time. You froze, shoulders hunched and shrinking in on yourself. Pursing your lips, you listened as he stood up and crossed the tiled floor, his socked feet almost silent.

'What's going on?' He asked you softly. He stood in front of you, his arms crossed as he stared you down.

He didn't look mad though. His stance might have, but you could see the worry in his eyes. It tugged his lip into a slight frown while he waited for your response.

'I told you, I'm fine, I've just been really-'

'Busy? Yeah, so you've said. If you were "just busy", why are you sneaking around your own house like you're scared of me?'

You felt the blood drain from your face. He had you there. Your fingers tightened, clenching into fists and loosening again while you tried to think of anything to say. You were sure you looked like a goldfish while you stammered.

You were panicking, but he wasn't going to let you leave, and you couldn't avoid him. Instead, he carefully took your hand in his. He was gentle as he lead you to the small living room.

'Y/N, what's going on?' he asked, sitting on the edge of the couch while you stood awkwardly, picking at your fingernails. 'You've been off since the party, and I know it's me. All I can wonder is "what did I do?" And you won't tell me.'

You paused, holding a breath. He thought it was his fault. Of course he did, you'd never given him any reason to think otherwise.

'What do you remember from that night?' you asked, your voice small as you sat down on the wooden coffee table. You couldn't meet his eye, too afraid of what he would say if he knew the truth.

'Not a lot,' he said, 'I remember that we played some drinking games, and I remember losing really badly at beer pong, but after that is mostly a blur.'

'Mostly?'

'I...' he trailed off, his thumb running over his palm awkwardly. 'I remember that we kissed, at least, I'm pretty sure we did. I was that far gone that it could have been anyone...'

You took a deep breath, preparing for the worst as you summoned the courage to tell him the truth.

'It was me. And it was my fault. I said that we should kiss, just so we could say we had a midnight kiss with someone. I didn't think this would happen. I didn't think we'd go that far, but even then, it was still my fault. It was my idea-'

'Y/N, you're rambling and you're being cryptic, I'm gonna need you to take a breath and spell it out for me,' Noah prodded gently. 'Whatever it is, I'm sure it's no big deal.'

'It really is a big deal,' you said, your throat trying to close over the words.

'How bad could it be?' He said softly, a reassuring smile lifting the corner of his lips. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he tried to meet your gaze, but you couldn't.

Your head dropped, staring at your fingers while the words caught in your throat. You hadn't said them out loud yet. You were so scared he'd regret it, or find it repulsive.

'We...' you stammered, swallowing hard, 'We had sex.'

Noah froze. His eyes widening while he processed the information.

'We... We had sex on new years?' He asked slowly, his face flushing as he spoke.

'Yeah.'

'That's why you've been avoiding me?'

'Mhmm,' you hummed with a tight nod, picking at your fingernails again. 'I know it's stupid, but I didn't want to ruin things between us and then I did it anyway because I was too scared to talk to you and-'

Noah shifted from the couch, moving to sit beside you on the coffee table and taking your hand, squeezing it firmly.

'Y/N, breathe,' he told you, his other hand rubbing your arm gently. He was going through the same whirlwind of emotions that you had gone through that morning, but somehow he handled it with ease.

'I can't, this is all my fault, I started it.' You were adamant. You'd been telling yourself the same lines for weeks now, trying to absolve him of fault. 'I initiated, I made the mistake, and I didn't want to drag you into this. I hoped that it would blow over and we would just forget because you're my best friend and I don't want to fuck that up-'

Noah shook his head, cutting you off again. You weren't oblivious to the way his face screwed up as you called it a mistake. 

'Don't do that to yourself. It takes two, and I'm sure I was more than willing to be involved.'

You pursed your lips, remembering the things he'd said. Silently you cursed yourself for the way your body tingled at the memory of his words. His hand on your arm seemed to burn at the thought.

'You were. You told me you'd dreamed about it before. I assumed that was just the alcohol.'

Noah's pink cheeks and awkward laugh gave him away quickly.

'Uh, nope. Definitely a case of drunk words being sober thoughts.'

You turned to him, a quizzical look on your face and a hint of a laugh bubbling in your chest. All the emotions you'd been fighting had reached a point of delirium.

'Hold it, you've actually dreamed about us fucking?' You asked him incredulously. You were flattered, but also baffled. How could he want that with you?

Noah nodded, chewing his lip and looking around the room for anything else to focus on. He could feel your eyes boring into the side of his head while he rubbed the back of his neck.

'Look, now is probably the best time to put the cards on the table,' he said quietly, scratching his jaw. 'I've wanted a lot more with you for a while now, but I didn't think you wanted the same since you were always pushing me at other girls, so I just shut my mouth. I didn't want to force anything on you, but Y/N, dude, come on. I've been in love with you for years, and you're the only person who doesn't seem to notice it.'

You froze, furrowing your brows and shaking your head a couple of times before looking up at his sheepish smirk. Your mouth opened, a smile on your lips as you processed what he said.

'Did you really just call me "dude" and say you're in love with me in the same sentence?'

Noah nodded, pursing his lips as he laughed at himself. 'Yup.'

'For gods sake, what a way to share your feelings, man.'

'I know,' he chuckled, 'but I'd rather you know instead of hiding from me and beating yourself up about a night I only wish I could remember.'

You smiled, blushing and laughing softly. 'I guess now is probably the time where I'm supposed to let you down easy and tell you I'm flattered, but I really just want to be friends?'

'Wow, just go straight for it, huh?' he chuckled, gently placing his hand on your back. 'Look, if that's how you feel, then thats okay with me. I'd rather be your friend than not have you in my life.'

You smirked, looking up at him. You could see the slight disappointment in his face as he looked at your entwined hands, but he was doing his best to hide it for your sake.

'Oh my god, Noah, look at me,' you said, his eyes lifting to yours, sparkling in the low light.

Your heart fluttered as you lifted your free hand to his cheek.

'I'm kidding, you dipshit, fucking kiss me already,' you told him, a grin on your face.

His eyes lit up, and he didn't need to be told twice. His lips were on yours in seconds, and it felt a million times better sober. His fingers stayed tangled with yours, his other hand pulling you close to him.

That same feeling of fire burned through you, wanting nothing more than to feel him everywhere. Your head spun and your heart pounded in your chest as he kissed you, his soft lips felt like home. You started to wonder what you were drunk on that night, was it the vodka, or him?

Your fingers ran into his hair, and you had to break the kiss so you could let out the giddy laugh that was building in your stomach.

'You're cruel,' he told you, his face inches from yours as his thumb ran over your knuckles.

'And yet, you love it for some reason?' You shot back, pecking his lips.

'I do,' he grinned, 'I really do.'

'Good, cause fucking hell I love you.'

***

If only that was where it had ended. A dopey, saccharine happy ending.

But no.

There was a consequence you had yet to encounter. A choice you had yet to pay for.

Something so simple, so many people fall into the same trap. And you didn't even notice, you wouldn't have either.

Until the app on your phone told you that it had been a while...

Two months, to be precise. You didn't dare tell Noah yet. Not until you were sure. He was busy preparing for a UK tour, and you'd only been together as a real couple for a month.

So you couldn't tell him until you tested with a doctor. Home tests could be wrong, right?

The doctor ordered blood tests, and waiting for those results was agony.

But here you sat, digesting the information the doctor had told you while you sat on the side of your bed.

You were pregnant. Seven weeks pregnant, give or take. But it didn't matter, you knew exactly when it happened.

This was not how this was supposed to go. If you were ever worried about upsetting Noah before, this was going to fuck him up.

You didn't even know his stance. Was he pro choice? Pro life? What would he say if you told him that you didn't want this yet?

Should you even tell him?

Of course, there was no way around it. You'd have to do it soon if you wanted to just take the tablets. You couldn't wait til he was on tour. He would see you in pain and know something wasn't right.

He deserved to know, didn't he?

It took him a little while, but Noah eventually found you in the bedroom. He saw you sitting on the side of the bed, crying softly to yourself, hand clutched to your belly.

'Hey, baby, what's wrong?' He asked, moving swiftly to your side and sitting with you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you to him, rubbing your back.

'We need to talk, and I don't know how you're going to handle it,' you whimpered, sniffing hard.

'You're not leaving me, are you?' He asked, his tone low and worried. You felt his arms tense around you, but you quickly shook your head.

'No, god no,' you coughed, looking up at him. 'I just got off the phone with my doctor.'

'Are you okay?'

You could see his eyes widen with fear, the idea of anything bad happening to you squeezed at his heart.

You weren't sure how to answer that question. Hell, you hadn't even said the words out loud yet. You'd only found out a few days before, you'd barely had time to process the home test, let alone the phone call confirming it.

'I'm pregnant.'

'And you don't want to be.'

'Not right now,' you said quietly, shaking your head. 'I'm so sorry, Noah. I'm sorry if you want this, but it's not what I want right now. I want us to be together for a while longer before we even think about kids, or marriage, or any of that. I'm still learning about this side of you, I want that to myself, I want to make stupid choices with you and not have to worry about a kid yet. One day, sure, but not now.'

'Baby, breathe for me. It's okay,' he assured you, 'I understand. And whatever you choose, I'm with you. But you're right, we're so new to each other like this... and I want to be able to steal you into empty bedrooms for a while,' he chuckled. 'I want you to myself too. One day, we'll talk family, but you're not ready and I'm not ready, and that's okay.'

He wrapped you in a tight embrace while you sniffled, trying to control your breaths as he stroked your hair.

'I love you, okay? No matter what,' he breathed, kissing the top of your head firmly.

You nodded against him. 'I love you,' you told him, your voice muffled by his hoodie.

'I have something to run by you,' he asked, 'I was gonna ask anyway, but I think you need it now more than ever.'

'Mmh?'

He chuckled as he rocked you from side to side. 'I was wondering if you wanted to come to the UK? I know you've got a lot of personal time you need to use, and I really don't want to be without you for three whole weeks...'

'I'll talk to my boss,' you said softly, 'but a few weeks away sounds like a realy good idea right now, with or without the chaos.'

Noah smirked, kissing your head again.

'We'll get you in to the doctor as soon as we can, and I'll be there with you every step of the way. And when everything is over, we'll be on our way to London,' he told you, his tone soothing.

You loved how good it sounded, and his voice was exactly what you needed in that moment. The tears finally slowed, knowing he was with you and that he had your back.

'I love you,' you told him earnestly.

'I love you too,' he said.

'No, like, I love you,' you murmured, 'I love you so much for supporting me with this, and just being there in general. You hold me together a lot more than you need to, and I don't know why the fuck I thought you wouldn't be with me on this one.'

'Neither do I, whatever you need, I'm always with you.'

'And I'm with you.'

Sinking further into his embrace, if that was even possible, you let him soothe you. This was love. This was everything you ever wanted, and you'd never felt better.

Who knew that New Year's parties could be so special?

[random-imagines-blog]

One Thousand Cheers {Dean Winchester x Female!Reader}

Wordcount: 2669 Requested by: @ab1nsur Summary: While hunting demons on the beach, you get caught up in a rather revealing contest. Warnings: Swearing, Spring Break chaos, A touch of non-consensual touching, demon mischief.

Demons on a beach during Spring Break. This felt like some sort of teen romance novel, and you could see the cover now - some red painted muscular guy holding some lusty teenager, the sunset behind them. Course, demons never actually looked like that. The ones you were looking for blended in well enough, looking like bikini-clad twenty-year olds who were looking for a hookup, rather than for souls. “Ever feel like you’re too old for this crap?” You asked Dean, standing up on a bench to try to look over the crowds for your demons, or for anyone who looked like they were being lured away. “Spring Break - what I wouldn’t give for a week off to feel like a stupid kid again.” 

“This is your idea of a fun Spring Break?” Dean said, his eyes too busy scoping out the beach, and making sure that his Revolver was tucked away inside of his jacket. He’s the one that stood out for wearing one, in this almost 90-degree weather. The sun going down didn’t cool anything any. “My break was another hunt, and I’d be lucky if it wasn’t somewhere that was raining all the time.” 

“I think that’s why you are the way you are. You didn’t get to party enough,” You chuckled. “Didn’t get to raise a little hell like these idiots.” 

“Yeah, that’s my problem alright. Didn’t party enough,” Dean grunted. Then his eyes seemed to catch on something, much like how a cat will suddenly spot a squirrel and look ready to pounce. “To the left.” 

“I see one to the right,” You whispered back. “Split up?” 

“Going to have to,” Dean said. “We’ll meet back up over there.” 

He motioned his head to one of the larger stages that seemed like it was preparing for a Wet T-Shirt Contest. You rolled your eyes at him. Of course, that’s where he would want to end up. “Alright, but only because it’s a good central location. Not because I wanna watch you get an eyeful.” 

Before he could come up with a witty retort, you were off the bench and walking among the people. In your jeans and white t-shirt, you didn’t exactly fit in with them either, but at least you weren’t wearing a heavy jacket. Your own weapon, your knife, was tucked into a holster attached to your leg, and your fingers brushed against the hilt with every step that you took towards the woman who had flashed her black eyes at you. It was tough to maneuver through the crowd, tall men often standing in the way of your line of your vision, a couple of them playfully trying to touch you. You slapped their hands away and carried on, too focused on the mission to give them a piece of your mind. Otherwise, you would have picked them apart and left them absolutely decimated with only your words. 

There she was. A fucking stunner. The vessel must have been a supermodel or something because this demon was getting a lot of attention, exactly like it wanted. It had it’s pick of tall, muscular, college-age men who didn’t actually think much about their future and would make a deal for something as stupid as money. Bargain away their soul for a couple of fun weekends in Cancun or something similar. 

Going up and incapacitating it wasn’t an option, not with so many witnesses. There was no way you were going to be able to form a salt circle around it with all of these people around, it would get trodden on, if it didn’t immediately mix with the sand. But you couldn’t let it just take these men away either. If you could save their souls, best bet you were going to try.  

“Hey, you,” You called out, jogging a little closer, running the back of your hand against your forehead where sweat was starting to gather and drip into your eyes. All the attention turned to you in that moment, and the demon knew that it had the advantage here. Its smirk made you want to rage. You had to use some quick thinking to get these men away. 

“Can I help you?” It said, in a sickly-sweet voice. The fucking confidence in these demons - must be a younger one.  

“You’re the bitch who gave my brother herpes, aren’t you?” You said, your mind flashing to Gabriel of all people, and the trick that he had pulled on Sam, making him pretend he was in a commercial for Herpexia. “Yeah, I remember you. Now I know my brother is too chickenshit to say anything, but I will.” You put your hands around your mouth to mime a loudspeaker of some kind, getting more people to look. “THIS CHICK HAS HERPES. DON’T SHARE A DRINK WITH HER OR SLEEP WITH HER. SHE WON’T EVEN CALL YOU AFTER ANYWAY!” 

The demon growled, a touch of its true nature showing, the eyes darkening as the guys around her started to subtly walk away, deciding that it just was not worth it. So at least one part of your idea was coming to fruition.  

“You play dirty,” she said, her head tilting menacingly towards you. The eyes were so focused on yours. You stepped in a little closer, your hand closing around the hilt of your weapon as a little room was made by the absence of her suitors. 

“Yeah, I was inspired by a tricky angel, what can I say?” You said, your own gaze glaring. “What happened to just hanging around crossroads, huh? Surely that has more dignity than picking up these scraps.” 

“Dignity? Now - you’re one to talk,” The demon said, the smirk growing on her painted red lips, which perfectly matched the bikini that she was wearing. Her hands were on her hips. She knew there were still too many people for me to do anything drastic, like go charging. “Always hanging around the Winchesters. Clinging onto Dean.” 

“I don’t cling,” You scoffed. “I said, actually. It’s something that friends do. Which you wouldn’t know, because demons don’t really have friends, do they? You’re not the most likeable sort.” 

“Friends?” The demon said, chuckling, which got on your nerves. “Come on, y/n. Even from down below we can see how bad you have it for Dream-Boy Dean. Which is why you cling.” 

“I think this part, right here, this is why you guys have a bad rep. The deals, the hellhounds, the annoying possessions, they’re all bad, but this right here? This is why you’re never going to have friends,” You glared, feeling yourself getting riled up. Which of course is what they wanted. 

“We take bets down there, on how hurt you’re going to be when he turns you down,” The demon-woman giggled. “I bet a hundred souls that you’re going to call on one of us. Make a little deal so that he’ll love you the same way that you love him.” 

"This isn’t going to stop me from killing you, you know. Actually, it’s making me want to do it more. And then you can go back down to hell and pass on the message that all of you are going to lose your money, nobody wins. You’re all just - so damn wrong.” 

Your stomach was churning inside of you. The anger was making you start to become careless, but it wasn’t just the words that she was saying which were pissing you off. It was the fact that she had a goddamn point. OF COURSE you clung onto Dean Winchester. Has anyone seen him? He’s one of the most handsome men in the world, women and some men everywhere fell for him. And you had the pleasure of getting to know him, which made your admiration worse. He was a badass, he was confident, he was funny, he had this bad boy look down pat. But of one thing you were absolutely sure. You would never, ever be stupid enough to make a deal with a demon. Not for love, not for power, not for anything. If you ended up ever confessing your feelings to Dean, and he didn’t feel the same - that was that. You already prepared yourself for it. 

“So do it,” The demon-woman said. “Kill me. But you know I’ll be back. That’s the thing that you really should hate about us demons. We always come back.” 

“Yeah, it’s really annoying,” You had to admit. Your hand fastened around the hilt of your knife. “And it makes prison sound pretty damn worth it.” 

She backed up, turned around and started to run, weaving through bodies. It appeared to be more of a dance than anything else, with her bare feet against the sand. You found it a little harder, running in your sneakers. The constant dipping into other people’s deeper footprints made your thighs burn as you kept moving. You wanted to have your knife in your hands but considering how many people were around, how there could be accidents, it wasn’t the smart thing to do. So, you were stuck just following, hoping to tackle. No, praying to all the angels that you knew that she would get hit with one of those giant beachballs that people were throwing around, so you could drag her out of there easier.  

Dodge and weave. The people were growing closer and closer together. You were having to use your elbows. With the congestion, you felt like you were a piece of floss, struggling to get between teeth. You kept getting sprayed with something, water probably. No, ugh, it smelt like beer. Someone was actually shaking up their beer and then pouring out the foam over people. 

You wrinkled your nose, wiping it away from your eyes before it could get into them, and then looked around again. You had totally lost her. There were other girls around in red bikinis but none of them had her face. You pushed more and more - until you found yourself being against a stage. Two arms came down and grabbed onto yours, pulling you up, confusing you further. 

“And we have our last volunteer for the wet t-shirt contest!” An emcee said, different colored spotlights dancing around your body. “What’s your name, jeans?” 

There were cheers coming from the crowd that you had just elbowed your way through. Your mouth went dry as you realized that everyone was now looking at you. You turned your eyes to the DJ booth where a man that looked like he was out of an LMFAO music video was standing, mic pointed out towards you.  

“Y/N,” you said, loudly.  

“Y/N! Come and stand with the other contestants, you all know how this goes don’t you?” 

While he explained the rules of this stupid contest that you now couldn’t get out of, since everyone was looking over at you, you looked through the crowd. Your eyes first landed on the demon, who was smirking at you from amongst the crowd. Her ruby red lipstick made her look all the smugger and you shook your head at her, mentally threatening to make her exorcism as painful as possible. The next pair of eyes that you caught were green, and boy, were they wide.  

Dean Winchester could be a bit of a gambling man, often with his life, but he would have never bet that he would see you be a part of a wet t-shirt contest. 

One by one, the girls in your lineup had buckets of water poured over them. Your heart was pounding when your turn was coming up. You weren’t dressed like these other girls. You didn’t have on a skimpy bikini top. Hell, it looked like the girl two down from you wasn’t wearing a bra at all. She looked like Jennifer Aniston in Friends. You looked down to make sure that you were wearing one, and yes, thank Chuck you were, and it wasn’t one of your bad laundry-day bras either. 

A gasp came out of you as a bucket full of COLD water was poured over your head. It was freezing absolutely freezing, and made you feel chilled down to the bone. But it had the effect that they wanted. Your white t-shirt was now drenched, and clinging onto your body, the way that the demon claimed you clung onto Dean. The cold had the effect on your body of making your nipples harden and start to point out of the thin fabric of your bra. The crowd in front of you went wild, a hundred, a thousand cheers coming out from them as they clapped for your body.  

You warmed up pretty quick from how flustered you were feeling. Your eyes were still stuck on Dean’s as his trailed down your body, taking in the sight of you. It wasn’t the most exposed that you had been, since he had given you a hand with stitches on your abdomen before, but it was all about context. This wasn’t seeing you because he was helping. This was him seeing you because you somehow got put into a contest meant to give straight men and lesbians material for their spankbank. 

And even though you hadn’t wanted to enter - you got in second.  

And a bonus of a 100-dollar cash prize. 

That part wasn’t so bad. 

You took it without any pomp, just accepted the bill out of the emcee’s hand and hopped off the back of the stage with the intention of circling back around and trying to avoid the mass of people. Music was playing louder now that the contest was over. Free drink tickets were being thrown out from the stage. People were being pulled up to dance. It was basically a stampede over there, and you had to finally resign yourself to the fact that if the demon was in there, she was out of your reach.  

You saw Dean exiting the crowd out of the corner of your eye and walked in his direction, pulling the shirt away from your skin, though once you let go, it immediately clung right back with a sick squelching sound. You crossed your arms in front of yourself instead, protecting what little modesty that you had left.  

“Not a word, Winchester,” You warned him. He put his hands up innocently, though you knew that he had something on the tip of his tongue that he wanted to say. 

You watched him as he took his heavy jacket off and he put it around your shoulders. You weren’t cold any longer, but you did take the opportunity to cover up, muttering a thank you as you crossed your arms in front of yourself to hide your wet t-shirt from view. “Can’t complain about a hundred bucks though,” he said, with a corny smile.

“I can complain that the demon bitch got away. I swear, she did that on purpose. Lead me to the stage so that I would get picked. Crowley is probably down there, laughing his ass off, knowing that his demon did this.” 

“We’ll find them,” Dean said, resolutely. “- after you buy me an overpriced beer. You can afford it.” 

You nudged him with the new weight of the jacket, making him chuckle. It was a welcome sound, after being humiliated and disappointed. “Fine, fine. One beer - but we’re looking for these hellspawns while we drink, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said, gruffly. “We’ll squish these cockroaches.” 

You nodded and he put his arm around your shoulders, leading you towards one of the makeshift bars on the beach, selling beer at three times the price of what they should be. Your heart was beating quickly again inside of your chest as you were pulled in close to him, the smell of his leather surrounding you. Your words flickered back to what the demoness had said - you clung to him. But right now, it almost looked like ... 

He was clinging to you. 

[echoalyssa]

Counterparts | Brian O’Conner

The night air is warm, almost comforting. The city of Los Angeles seemed to have decided to go to sleep tonight. The city, normally bustling with life, was quiet, peaceful. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks up at the moon.

I’m standing in front of Mercy Park’s garage checking the oil level of my bike. My brother Logan is lingering by the bay doors, rearranging a stack of Husky jacks that really did not need to be rearranged. He was skeptical about me going riding with someone outside of our crew, but I had known Brian for years.

He drove with Dominic Toretto. Toretto’s crew were technically our rivals as we worked out of the same part of LA. Though Dom and Kaneko, the leader of the Mercy Park Crew, had come to an agreement to coexist.

We’d decided to leave the JDM’s at home tonight. It was perfect weather to take the bikes out and we’d both been neglecting the machines.

         The loud thrum of Brian’s bike alerts me that he is around the corner. I glance at Logan and narrow my eyes at him, begging him to go back inside and talk to Toby or Ximena. He was ridiculously worried about Brian considering his girlfriend’s dad was the cop who had almost brought us all in. 

Brian comes around the corner and pulls into the garage’s parking lot. He nudges the kickstand out with his right booted foot and then turns the key in the ignition to shut the machine off. He tugs his helmet off, revealing his blonde curls and striking blue eyes. The smile that he aims at me is intoxicating.

He dismounts his bike and crosses the distance towards me. I open my arms for him immediately. His arms go around my waist, and I loop mine around his neck. He smells like oil mixed with an earthy undertone. Brian holds me for a good minute before he steps back and flashes me with that grin again. 

“It’s been too long.” He glances over your shoulder and raises his hand in a wave, “Hey Logan!”

I hear the garage door close and know that my brother has finally left us alone.

“You look good.” I murmur back to him. And he does, he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and black jeans. He has his steel toes on and a thin gold chair dangles around his neck. He’s showered recently, his hair bearing the signs of water. Though somehow there is a dirt smudge just under his jaw, as if he just can’t quite seem to stay away from the grime of working on cars.

Brian pokes the tip of my nose with his index finger and then glances at the garage behind me. He tilts his head in the direction of the street. Even though both crews were on good terms did not mean that we should be hanging out together in broad view.

I pull my hair into a loose braid before sliding my helmet on. Brian starts his bike again, throwing a leg over. He maneuvers it backwards so that he can pull back out onto the road. It’s currently wrapped in white with the signature Toretto decals on the gas tank.

My own bike, a Kawasaki Ninja is blacked out. I went for stealth. The machine roars to life underneath me. Brian nods in my direction and together we rev the engines before taking off down the road.

I let Brian lead; I didn’t mind where we went as long as I would get an adrenaline rush. He takes us through a few side streets before we hit the ramp to the highway. He turns his head, checking to make sure that I am still behind him.

The second he confirms that I am still following behind him like his little shadow, he tucks and takes off down the empty highway. My heart soars as I accelerate after him. The red needle on my speedometer quickly craws into the triple digits.

We’re absolutely soaring, breaking felony speeds, but neither of us have plates. The wind whips his t-shirt around, making the fabric crawl upward so it bunches around his chest and exposes the hard planes of muscle. 

There aren’t many people out on the highway, but we weave through the ones that are. We’re perfectly in sync, reading each other’s movements without needing to communicate. I give the throttle a little more and go surging past him, but only for a moment. He overtakes me. It continues like this for miles, each of us going for the lead. The city is a blur around us.

I outstretch a hand to the wind, feeling the way it pushes my arm back in because of the speed. Anyone who saw us together must have been in awe, we give off an almost ethereal aura. Yin and Yang. Light and dark. One and the same.

We were brothers. But bound by more than blood. We were twins as well. Counterparts. Gangster princes of the city we met.

No amount of words could describe the perfection of the moment between the two of us. A picture would do no justice.

Adrenaline pumps through my veins, one mistake and we would be dead, but there was no fear. Only the urge to go faster, to push the limits. That was the thing about Brian, he understood. That if speed was to lead to our demise, we would go out smiling.

Almost too soon, Brian drops a hand to his side, signaling that he is going to take the next exit ramp. He leans into the turn and checks once more, that I’m behind him. We maneuver down a few side roads and then come to a stop atop a hill. The stars are bright tonight, almost defying nature. 

Brian dismounts his bike first, and then he’s in front of me. I haven’t even finished setting up my kickstand before his hands are pulling my helmet off and his lips are brushing against mine. I sigh into him, trusting that I can tip toe the bike and kiss him back. It’s like a weight has been lifted off of my chest

He pulls away but rests his forehead against mine, his fingers brush the strands of hair that had escaped my braid back behind my ears. “I missed you.”

The only response I can find is to pull him back towards me. There wasn’t much time to spare for either of us, both crews were constantly traveling for boosts, but the time that we did have together… we savored it. Loyalties to the crews aside, the two of us would always come back to one another.

[sturniolos-blog]

Babysitter - Matthew Sturniolo x Y/n Oneshot

warnings - fluff, kissing, swearing,

also read ‼️‼️: name change on the daughter just because this fic is not where y/n is the biological mother, but i am going to keep estrella and mailo for when y/n and matt are biological parents.

—————————

7:39am

I wake up to my phone blaring from a call, contact name says ‘The dad of the kid i start babysitting’

Hoping i’m not late i check the time, it’s only 7:40, my job wasn’t supposed to start till 11.

I pick up the phone, “Hello?” I asked in the most not tired voice possible.

“Hey, uh this is y/n right?” Matt asks.

"Yeah, you're Mr.Sturniolo right?"

Matt chuckles, "Please call me Matt, i'm not old."

"Of course, Matt. So what's up?” I rub my eyes and get out of bed as i keep my phone against my ear.

“I’m sorry this is such late notice but do you think you would be able to get here before eight?” He asks.

I let out a small sigh.

“Okay that’s okay i can just be late-”

“Wait what? No! Sorry i’m trying to find a shirt to wear.” I laugh in embarrassment.

“Oh okay great, see you at eight?” Matt confirms.

“See you at eight.” I hang up the phone.

—————————

7:58am

I ended up picking grey cargo pants with a plain white sweatshirt.

I walked up to the given address, nice ass house by the way. I walk up to the font door and knock, the door opens and it reveals a brown haired man, bright blue eyes and stubble on his cheeks, covering his jaw, he was wearing black jeans and a black t shirt. He looked like he was really young so i thought there was no way he could be a whole ass dad

I look at the number again, it said 434.

“Sorry, i might have the wrong ho-” The man cuts me off.

“Wait you’re y/n?” He asks, sort of in disbelief, looking me up and down.

“Yeah, uh- babysitting?” I laugh.

“Oh okay, i’m sorry you look young.” He says, opening the door for me to walk in as i do so.

“Says the teenager.” I joke.

He looks down and laughs, “You’re totally right. Flora!? Come down here please!” Matt yells, a little girl that looks almost exactly like Matt runs down the stairs.

“What did I say about running down the stairs?” Matt scolds as the little girl, presumably Flora hugs his leg.

She had brown fluffy hair that went all the way down to her belly button.

She had blue eyes and was milk white like Matt.

“Sorry daddy.” She hugs his leg as he ruffles her hair.

“I’m gonna ignore it just because we have a guest and daddys running late. This is y/n, she will be hanging out with you for the day while daddy works.” He tells her, i give a small wave and she smiles at me but continues holding onto his leg.

“She’s usually shy at first, actually she might be shy the whole time, she gave my last babysitter a really hard time so i’m so sorry if today is trouble, and what time is it?” He glances at the clock, “Shit. I mean- Flora don’t say that word i really gotta-”

“Okay, Matt you can go, i’m sure we will be fine.” I smile.

Matt takes a break, “Uhm- Right, right. I’m so sorry, y/n. I really didn’t think they were gonna call me in this early-” I cut matt off as he apologizes again.

“Matt seriously, it’s fine. I don’t mind at all. Go ahead.” I laugh.

“Right, right. Okay,” Matt bends down and puts his arms out for Flora, she wraps her arms around his neck.

“Okay, daddy will see you later okay? Love you baby.” He kisses her cheek and quickly leaves the house.

Flora walked towards the window, watching Matt pull out of the driveway.

“It must be hard when dad leaves.” I start, “I know what that’s like, it must hurt, huh?” I ask.

She just nods and stares at the now empty driveway with just my car now.

“Daddy said I was born really early, while he was still in school. But then Mama left so he said he had to quit.” She says, her voice quiet.

“Yeah, it must be tough. How old are you, Flora?” I ask her.

She puts up a five on one hand and a three on the other.

“eight years old? Wow!” I fake gasp.

“So when do you start highschool? Next year maybe?” I ask her, she looks at me and giggles but shakes her head.

“Nooooo!” Flora drags out.

“Really? So you’re already in highschool?” I ask as she giggles some more.

“No silly! I’m in 3rd grade!” She says.

“Oh no way!” I laugh too.

—————————

6:24pm

I look at our two drawings.

“What is that?” Flora points to mine.

I hesitate for a second, “I thought we were drawing dogs..”

“We were supposed too. But that’s not a dog.” She shakes her head, almost disappointed.

I gasp, “Okay one more round, now let’s do cats.”

Matt’s Pov

I walk inside and take my jacket off. Sighing as i rub my forehead. Expecting the house to be trashed and the babysitter to be gone, (that’s happened before) but instead I hear laughs and giggles come from the kitchen.

“That’s not a cat!” I hear Flora yell.

“I promise it is!” I hear Y/n speak now.

I hear Flora giggle at Y/n’s response.

I walk into the kitchen and look at a bunch of papers and crayons scattered everywhere on the kitchen table.

Flora looks up first, “Daddy!” She yells, running up and hugging me.

“Hey baby!” I smile, leaning down and kissing her head while hugging her.

She hugs me tightly before letting go.

“I had lots of fun daddy!” Flora yells.

“That’s great! why don’t you go play while i talk to y/n?” I suggest.

“Okay.” She sighs before running to her play room.

Y/n smiles at me as she starts to put away the crayons. She was actually really pretty.

“So how’d today go?” I ask her, helping her clean up the papers.

“It was great actually, i think she likes me but im not gonna jinx it.” She laughs.

“she seems like she loves you.” I smile, “Does that mean you’ll stick around?” I half joke, half serious.

She looks up at me, stopping her movements. “Of course, i’m not going anywhere.” She continues to put the crayons away as she finishes.

“See you saturday, Mr. Sturniolo.” She says, saying bye to flora before leaving.

—————————

1 month later

9:35pm sunday

I was cleaning up after i made dinner for alora and i, Matt had a party for influencers to go to. I didn’t mind staying longer, in fact i liked it. Made me feel less lonely.

I put Flora asleep about an hour ago, she insisted to wait up for matt but i stroked her hair a little and she fell right asleep.

Honestly i had a fat crush on matt, he was 25, and im 23, thats perfect, he is a beautiful man anyway.

I was in the kitchen when i heard the front door open. I was wiping down the counters and i see Matt.

“Hey, how was your night?” I asked him.

He nodded and put his keys down on the table, “it was good.. good..” He trails off, “what about you?” He asks as he watches my movements as i wipe the counters.

“It was great. Flora is asleep now, i told her that if she went to bed you’d be here to see her in the morning.” I smile at him as he continues staring at me, i throw the now dirty paper towel away.

“Okay, so i made pasta which i put in a container for you, it’s in the fridge, and i also packed Floras lunch for school tomorrow because i figured you would be too tired to pack it.” I told him, he just stared at me.

“Are you okay matt?” I asked him.

He clears his throat and looks down, fiddling with his fingers, “Um, yeah yeah, of course. thank you so much you do a lot and have done a lot this past month, so thank you for that.”

“I mean of course, i love flora and y- i love taking care of her.” I catch myself.

“Right.” Matt nods, looking around the room in awkwardness, which has never happened before.

“Yeah, right so i’m gonna go now.” I smile.

“Or maybe you don’t have too…” Matt trails off, i give him a confused look, but he walks up to me, and gets real close. “You should stay..” Matt breathes out, he got so close to where his lips were almost hovering over mine.

“I can..” I swallow harshly and nod. “I can stay..” I whisper.

“Good.” He mutters before he leans in and kisses me, it catches me by surprise but i immediately kiss back, my hands going around his neck as his go around my waist.

He hums into the kiss and bites my lip, making me let out a soft gasp and matt takes his chance in sticking his tongue in my mouth. I moan against his lips as he presses me against the counter.

“Daddy?” We pull away from the kiss to see flora.

—————————

i know this is such a bad ending but this is probably the last i’m posting till the weekend so i just wanted to get it done because i feel bad for like disappointing you guys.

taglist: @sturniolosmind

[looney-mooney-studio]

Linda Flynn Fletcher/Linda Cipher throughout the years! Full image ID under the cut cuz there’s a lot of text to transcribe lol

New Astrophysicist: Eager to start her new career! Wants to prove herself after Lindana’s legacy. Craves fame on her own terms. Willing to do WHATEVER it takes! Silver jewelry. Silver star shaped earrings. Purple headband. Colorful striped shirt. Purple choker necklace. White Labcoat. Bell bottom blue jeans. Shoulder length red hair.

Dating Bill: more confident in self and career. Starts dressing more professionally, without sacrificing personal sense of style. Starts wearing gold jewelry. Yellow button up shirt. Gold triangular earrings. Yellow headband. Black choker necklace. Blue jeans. White lab coat.

Possessed by Bill: PARTY GIRL! Colleagues just think this is what she’s like when she’s drunk. Acts kinda slutty? MESSY HAIR (Bill’s not used to vessels with so much hair, so he keeps messing with it.) lineart different - more Gravity Falls style than Dwampyverse style. Doesn’t know how to wear a shirt. Lost a shoe - Linda will have to find it later. Mostly same as last design, but without the labcoat.

Pregnant: hair grows faster during pregnancy. Shows off her belly! Patches clothes - Bill starts breaking things, but she blames their body’s hormones. Design is same for both pregnancies because she just reuses her old pregnancy clothes. Same “dating bill” design, but with longer hair, a crop top, and a green patch on her blue jeans. Gold wedding ring.

Full Bill Cultist: Dresses more and more like Ford. Invests in hippy stuff. More obvious about being with Bill. Colleagues think she’s starting to go a little bit nuts, but can’t argue with her results. Red turtleneck. Tan jacket. Shoulder pads. Black slacks. Brown sneakers. Gold triangle earrings. Gold headband. Gold beaded necklace with a big triangular bill cipher charm. Gold wedding ring.

Post Breakup: doesn’t take care of self. Ironically looks more like if Bill were possessing her. Still wears yellow, but it’s washed-out. Her relationship with Bill is broken, but still fresh. Tired, trying not to sleep a whole lot. Caffeine addict. Messy hair. Green headband. Green flannel jacket. Yellow t-shirt. Tan cargo pants. Green sneakers. TIRED.

Dating Lawrence: letting herself be a little bit cringe. Having fun! Reminding herself of things she enjoys outside of what she did with Bill, like music and fiber arts. No yellow OR red. She’s being DIFFERENT for a little while. Pony tail. Black scrunchy. Teal sweater dress. White belt.black leggings. Purple leg warmers. Black sneakers. Clunky upside down teal teardrop earrings.

Now: wears yellow again, but on her OWN terms now. Isn’t afraid anymore. Trying out new things! Opted out of rings with Lawrence. They have antique lockets instead. Whole family has them, including a custom-made locket for Perry. Takes a lot of classes. Content to be a stay-at-home mom with a lot of hobbies. Her career isn’t important to her anymore, she doesn’t even have one. She’s FREE. White short sleeved button up shirt. Yellow sweater vest. Green khakis. Yellow orthopedic shoes. Peach colored headband. Teal pearl earrings.

[spechblend]

My Guide to Patch/Crust DIY Pants That No One Asked For:

(If you see this guide go through changes, you’re not crazy, I update it all the time)

I’ve noticed that my DIY pants had been noticed on here, so I’d thought I make a guide for new punks getting into the scene 💖

I’ve been in the punk scene for a little over two years now, so don’t take everything I say to heart, I’ve got lots to learn.

Typically, you want to start out with a good base. For instance, the pants you choose can make or break your project. I don’t suggest buying super expensive pants, but don’t buy them super low quality either. You want something that lasts, as crust or patch pants are meant to be your only pair.

EDIT: Before I start any new project, I look around my stuff to see if I can repurpose anything. Old T shirts, bed sheets, bags, you name it. It’s so much easier to repurpose your stuff before buying new things, and you save money doing it. Before you buy pants, see if you can find a pair you already own! I had to buy new ones because I only had one other pair of jeans that I wear to work.

I’ve seen some tutorials floating around for DIY can spikes. Please be very careful doing this. If you’re moshing in a vest made with cut up aluminum, you can seriously hurt someone if you’re not careful. Be on the safe side and either borrow/buy pre made studs and spikes or save the DIY can spikes for non-moshing vests/pants/cuffs.

If you’re moshing with any studs or spikes at ALL, they should be blunt!!!

Good places to buy pants

Thrift (it’s a bit of a crapshoot if you have a hard time finding sizes, but if they’ve lasted long enough to end up in a thrift store, then it means they’re more likely good quality. Check the tags!!)

Edited above, been informed of how Goodwill treats disabled employees

ASOS (I recommend if you have a hard time finding your size. I can’t guarantee the sustainability of this site though.)

Mercari (Like an online goodwill. I find a lot of awesome clothes on here. You can download the app.)

Depop (I seldom shop on here, but similar to Mercari with a wider range of brands.)

How the Pants Should Fit

The fit of your pants can also affect how they lay on you. I suggest buying pants slightly larger on you, if you’re covering them in patches. When you start sewing, you’re going to find that they’re going to shrink a little bit. So please avoid tight fitting jeans if you can! Straight or relaxed fit are the best.

EDIT: If skinny/fitting pants are all you got, sometimes making relief cuts at the knees help when you try to bend down.

Patches

Patches are going to be what makes your pants unique! There’s quite a few you can choose from: plain patches, band patches, politics patches, etcetera. If you’re going to cover the entirety of your pants, I suggest going to Joann’s or Michaels (fuck Hobby Lobby) for fabric. Buy a yard or two canvas or pleather (or both). Otherwise, I usually cut up old T-shirts for my fabric.

How to Make Your Own Patches

Stencil (very straightforward, here’s a guide) (please check out Anarchostensilism on insta/Tiktok/Deviantart)

Paint (Buy white/black stencil fabric paint. I don’t suggest acrylic, since it’s not made to move with fabric)

Where to Buy Pre Printed Patches

crustpunks.com (Hella good, fast shipping, affordable!! Made by punks for punks)

nuclearwasteunderground.com (I found this one randomly)

Etsy (While I hate them for the way they treat their sellers, unfortunately this can be a main source of income for some.)

Shows, punk meets, friends

If you’re going to make crust pants, it’s imperative that you have crust bands on your patches, that’s what makes them crust! (Apart from never washing them)

Edit: I would do your own research on the crust punk subculture, there’s a lot of discourse out there on what makes punks crust punks and so on.

Washing your pants is not a black and white rule, but you can ruin the integrity of your work if you carelessly throw them in the washer. Like if you were to throw a suede jacket into the washer, there’s certain steps to take!

Here’s an enlightening guide on crust.

Here’s some crust band recs!

Nausea

Anti Cimex

Dystopia (my favorite)

disrupt

Doom

Heresy

Discharge

Amebix

Things to Add to Your Pants

Buttons (you can buy or make your own. Here’s a guide for DIY bottle cap buttons)

Pockets (easy to monkey wrench with a few spare patches, but here’s a pattern)

Handkerchiefs (the hankey code, much like the lace code, is pretty much dead. But it’s up to you if you want to signal something with it.)

Wallet chains (here’s a cool guide to making your own!)

Bum flap (by far the coolest thing on this list. Makes your ass not hurt when you sit on the sidewalk. Here’s a video)

Make them convertible (I made mine into zip off shorts. Here’s a video)

I made this up, but I added removable knee pads to mine.

Pant Inspiration

Have no shame in taking reference! Here’s are some cool accounts with awesome pants!

carnifexofhate

dontditchitstitchit

no_name_no_reason

okshrimpet

annals_of_the_crustwar

a_lifeisabuse_e

That’s all I got! Remember to never wash your pants ✨

[beachbabe000]

How Did This Happen // Chris Sturniolo One Shot

Summary: It's y/n's birthday, which they never celebrate. They finally go out for their birthday one night, and things take a turn in a way that wasn't expected

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

My heels clicked on the floor beneath me as I looked around the club trying to find my friend. Matt was supposed to meet me here an hour ago. This club is so busy though he probably got lost. I pull at my tight black halter dress that has been riding up since I left the house. By the time I left I didn’t want to change. I don’t usually wear things like this, but tonight was a special occasion, my birthday. Yeah, yeah, the cliché go out on your birthday. I know. But I also never go out either. This is the first birthday I’ve ever really done anything for myself or celebrated. Matt insisted we do something fun this year after he heard that I never do.

I met Matt a year ago now. We’ve been good friends since, the friendship just kind of happened and flowed into what it is now. His brother Nick is cool, though we never really had a close relationship blossom. His other brother Chris on the other hand, we never really got along. We both just annoy the hell out of each other. It is what it is.

I finally see Matt sitting at the bar, looking around constantly, no doubt trying to find me. As I walk up to him waving, he breaks a smile and walks towards me. He embraces me in a hug, “Hey, Happy Birthday. How does it feel going out for once?” I smiled sheepishly. “Weird. Not sure how I feel about it yet.” I look behind him spotting Chris at the bar. His arms are spread behind him leaning on the bar as he sits on the stool. “What the hell is he doing here?” Matt looks back, “Oh. I’m not sure, he just wanted to come. No doubt he was bored and wanted to talk his head off to people.” He looks back towards me, “Want a drink? I’m buying.” His wallet was waving in front of my face. I smirked at him “Let’s do it boo.”

We get to the bar and I order a margarita. My smile huge as the bartender hands it to me. Someone leans up next to me, “You look good.” I could tell by the voice it was Chris. I look over with an annoyed look on my face. “Thanks. So do you I guess?” He’s wearing a red backwards cap, black jeans and his grey hoodie with a white t-shirt peeking out. Not much to it but I’d feel bad if I didn’t return the compliment. He smirks at me. “Happy birthday. Next ones on me.” He told the bartender looking from me to him. “Why? Don’t you hate me?” sipping on my straw. He looked me up and down. “Kind of hard to hate you when you look like that.” Smirking again. “Nauseating” I rolled my eyes. “You love it.” His tone cocky.

I start to get a little tipsy and head out onto the dance floor. Matt is with me and we’re dancing around to Cyclone by Baby Bash. My arms are above my head as my hips sway back and forth, my hair sweeping my shoulders as my head moves with my hips. All of a suddenl I feel two hands on my hips guiding me to the music with them. I naturally lean my head back on their shoulder as I grind with them. Just tipsy enough to not think about who it was and more so lost in the music and my buzz. “You’re a good little dancer.” I could feel the warmth of the mystery persons breath tickle my ear. My eyes instantly shot open, I pull away and turn around coming face to face with Chris. “What are you doing? Can’t you find someone else to pester?” He smiled at me, “I’m not pestering you. I’m dancing with you. Let loose for once y/n.” He raised his hands halfway from his sides and dropped them back down. Looking me up and down again a smirk still plastered to his face, he walks to me slowly and places his hands on my waist. “Come on, sway those hips again.” He pulls me closer into him as we dance front to front. I can feel his breath on my face as he’s looking down at me, eyes hooded. I start to go with the music again letting my front glide with his.

His hands begin to move down to my hips, pulling me closer to him. One of my legs are between his as I grind into him. My head leans back slightly and I feel his breath start to move its way down to my neck and a small kiss placed. “Chris” My hands find his shoulders to grip on as he dips me down a little for better access to my neck. He places a rougher kiss there before pulling me back up to face me again. “Yes?” He asks looking intensely into my eyes. “What are you doing?” He chuckles “Dancing.” I shake my head. “You’re not just dancing yapper.” The nickname I gave him out of annoyance a long time ago. “heh, I’m not yapping much right now am I?” His tone is becoming more husky. His leg between my thighs moves up more to grind into me. I groan and my breath hitches. I look around trying to find Matt. He’s sitting back at the bar talking to some girl, looks like he’s been there a while. Not paying any attention to what’s happening. He must have left once he saw Chris move in to dance, letting him off the hook. Surprisingly not weirded out that he would want to dance with me in the first place.

“He’s busy.” Chris nips at my neck pulling a small moan from me. The song switches to Peaches and Cream by 112. One of my arms is now around his neck as my other hand is on his arm that’s wrapped around me. We’re fully grinding into each other now. Another moan escapes my mouth as I feel a wetness form above his leg. “hmm am I turning you on?” He chuckles into my ear. I struggle to get out the words, “Shut up.” Before he pulls my hips closer, if even possible. This movement brings my warmth completely against the top of his leg and he moves my hips down to grind more into it. “Fuck, Chris, stop.” My hand squeezes his arm as he continues this motion. “Do you really want me to though?” To the outsiders eye it just looks like we’re dancing normally. To my eyes, I can’t even see right now. He then pulls away from me completely causing me to lose my footing from the sudden loss of contact. He catches me with his arms before I fall. “What the fuck Chris!” He stands me up as he chuckles to himself. “Come with me” He tilts his head towards a direction and grabs my hand.

I have no idea where we’re going as he pulls me in a random direction, but at this point I don’t care. I just want to feel him against me again. We come in front of a random door and Chris pushes it open. He locks the door behind him. It looks like we’re in some kind of supply closet. There’s no light and I have idea where a light switch is. Luckily a light randomly comes on and I see Chris moving his hand from a string hanging from the ceiling. “Hey.” He says as he moves towards me again. Before I know it his hands were under my thighs and I was straddling him against the wall behind me. “You never answered me, do you want me to stop?” His face was centimeters away from mine. I can feel the warmth coming from his mouth blowing against mine as he breathes his words. He looks from my lips to my eyes. “Ma?” He whispers against my lips, our eyes not moving from each other’s. After a few seconds of contemplation, which at this point, what am I even contemplating? “No” and with that one whimper from my mouth he dived in.

His lips were against mine in a heated hard kiss and his groin pushed into mine roughly. I moan loudly while sinking my fingers into his shoulders. He’s grinding into me over and over the stimulation enough to make me moan out “Chris if you keep going I’m gunna lose it” He bites my neck before letting me go and yanking up my dress. “Not yet ma.” He pulls down my red thong slipping my feet through the holes. Grabbing my thighs again he set my legs over his shoulders and held my hips keeping me against the wall. I can feel his breath on my pussy as he looks up to catch my eyes with his. Keeping eye contact he licks a trail up my lips bringing a long moan out of me. I close my eyes and lay my head against the wall. He brings his hand up to my folds and presses his thumb to my clit to rub circles. “Fuuuck Chris” He then sticks his tongue in my hole and tongue fucks me while keeping his thumb going on my clit. I moan nonstop at this point as he abuses my pussy. “I’m cumming I’m cumming!” I lock my hand on his curls and push him closer to my warmth. Finally, I feel my walls clench and my juices flow out into Chris’s mouth.

He stands me back on the floor, coming back up and wiping his mouth. “You good ma? Ready to go again?” I looked at him in disbelief. “Again?” He smirked at me. “Yeah again.” He unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants down to his knees. I have no time to speak before he lifts me up around his waist again. “I’m not done with you yet.” His tip grazed my entrance. The feeling causing me to go lightheaded. “Well what are you waiting for then.” As soon as the sentence left my mouth, he slammed into me. “Oh fuck” I let out in a long moan. We sat there like that for a second, both getting used to each other. We looked at each other, finally realizing what was happening. Giving in he started moving. His thrusts were slow at first. “Chris, come on. Fuck me.” That seemed to send him over. His thrusts became faster. “You’re driving me crazy y/n” He whimpered out. “How has this not happened sooner.” He was struggling to speak now. “Just shut up and keep going.. Oh shit!” He hit a spot that really got me. With that response he knew where to go and kept hitting it. My moans were so loud, but no one could hear with the music and commotion happening outside the closet, so I wasn’t worried. My hand found the wall behind me as I grasped his shoulder for support. “Chris, I’m so close. Don’t stop oh god right there.” The thrusts he was giving me was pushing me so hard against the wall I was sure I’d have marks on my back after this. I felt my release come upon me, “I’m cumming, oh fuck Chris!” With that sentence my walls clenched around his dick. The feeling of my walls clenching sent him over the edge as well. We came together not parting. After a minute of sitting there and basking in each other’s juices he sat me back down and pulled out of me. His hand next to my head and the other on my hip, we caught our breaths. He looked up at me, my eyes soon meeting his. “We’re doing that again in the future right?”

I chuckled in response. “Hell yeah.” He smiled. “Don’t call me yapper anymore and I might let you cum again.” I smirked, “No promises.” His smirk met mine, “Then no promises on my end either. I’ll just edge you and not finish the job.”

[taylorsv3rsion13]

we never go out of style || c.f.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

words : 3.0k

synopsis : things were always rocky for conrad and you. after the whole break up, will everything be the same the year later? or will it all turn to shit.

(belly and cam cameron are a thing in this series btw)

The Fourth of July for me was one of my favorite holidays. It's a tradition in Cousins. Susannah decorates the whole house, the dad's come up for the weekend, the boys shoot off fireworks, and most importantly, I get to see my mom.

Usually I was just here, following after the boys with Belly. But this year, I feel like I'm apart of the plans. I have friends.

I finished eating the rest of my cereal.

"Can I have your milk?" Jeremiah said from beside me.

"Yeah. You and your weird obsession with milk." I laughed a little.

I watched as he chugged down the rest of the milk in my bowl/

Conrad walked into the kitchen, "Yo, I'm gonna go wash off the clams. Did you get the lighter fluid?"

"Mm! Yeahh, it's already on the beach." Jeremiah said, a milk mustache on his face.

Conrad whistled in response.

Steven and Susannah came in, Steven wearing a nice dress shirt and Susannah wearing her overalls and t-shirts.

"Are we done with the portrait?" Steven asked.

"Yeah, for today." Susannah smiled.

This year she was painting portraits of all of us. She used to paint them when we were younger, but then we all stopped.

"But you do look good in a dress shirt, Steven." Susannah complimented. "Oh! Which makes me think. If Belly doesn't hurry up and ask Cam to the ball, you should take her."

"Ew. No way." Belly exclaimed from beside me.

"No, no, no, yeah, yeah, I'm already going with Shayla." Steven added.

"To the debutante ball?" Laurel asked as she walked in, holding a batch of towels.

"Yes." Steven said laughing a little.

"As an escort?" Laurel asked.

"Yes mom. Shayla's coming today with Nicole and Gigi, so you'll meet her." Steven said.

"That's wonderful." Susannah smiled. "Oh and girls, don't forget that Ms. Covington's first rehearsal is tomorrow, so uh, tick-tock. I'm not as worried for Belly, but Y/N, you haven't found anyone."

"I know, I know, I'll get to it." I said to Susannah, smiling.

"Yes, and I'm asking Cam today." Belly said.

"Suddenly, I don't know any of these kids anymore." Laurel exclaimed.

I looked at Laurel, squinting my eyes a little, "Wait are you wearing makeup?"

"Yeah, she's wearing makeup." Steven said.

"Oh, my god. She definitely is!" Susannah squealed.

"So What? We're having a party." Laurel said.

"Mhm." I nodded, winking at her. "Anywho, I'm going to go finish getting ready."

From the window of my room, I could see Conrad, shirtless as he was cleaning the clams.

I put on a semi sheer mesh crop top that was red, and a pair of blue jean shorts. I had also added in a white bow in my hair.

I walked downstairs, Laurel making eye contact with me.

Susannah pushed past her though, "Oh my god, look at how gorgeous she looks!"

"Oh Belly, I need you to make up the guest bed." Laurel said to Belly.

"It's okay, I'll make the bed this year. I know Belly's getting ready for Cam." I winked

"Wait, Dad and Victoria are staying here?" Belly asked.

Laurel just gave her a stern look.

"In the room next to mine?" Belly whined.

"Yeah." Laurel smiled, as Belly groaned making us laugh.

Susannah jumped up, "Oh, speaking of dads, yours called. He's closing a deal, so... he can't come."

Jeremiah looked at Susannah blankly, "What?"

The back door closed and Conrad came in, "Did you say Dad's not coming?"

"Mhm." Susannah said.

"But I got some serious fireworks for the show this year." Conrad said.

Susannah shrugged, "We'll take a video."

"It's not the same." Jeremiah mumbled.

Conrad leaned against the kitchen sink, smiling and staring into nothing.

"What are you so smiley about?" I asked, smirking at him.

"No reason." He smiled back.

I took out a flat white sheet, throwing it up into the air and watching as it fell down onto the mattress.

I heard a laugh from the door and Conrad stood there, watching as I put the sheet on the bed, "You have to fold the bottom sheet at a 45 degree angle if you want the tight corners."

I sighed, attempting to fold the corners in a 45 degree angle.

"Yeah not like that." Conrad laughed.

"Okay then, help me." I said, putting the sheet down and laughing a little.

I moved out of the way as Conrad moved to the bed.

"You have to pull this down." He said, as he fluffed the sheet a little. "Like this. Come here."

I shuffled over to his side of the bed as I watched him fold the sheets.

"See?" He asked as he stared straight at me.

"Thank you" I chuckled.

This was the first time I've seen Conrad normal. Like last year. We were actually getting along.

"Do you think it's weird how my mom isn't staying in the house this year?" I asked.

"No, what if she's seeing someone." Conrad asked.

"Ew no." I said to him.

Conrad threw a pillow at me, making me laugh.

"It's gonna be fine, don't worry about it." Conrad smiled.

God his smile. It always made me melt like this.

"Sorry your dad isn't coming this year." I said, looking up to him.

"Don't be. I'm not."

"Y/N?" I heard Laurel's voice shout from downstairs.

"She's here!" I exclaimed, grabbing ahold of Conrad's arm and running down the stairs with him.

My mom stood, her arms held out wide open, but a man was behind her...

"Mom!" I screamed as I let go of Conrad's arm and ran up to hug her.

"Y/N!" My mom said, hugging me back.

I smiled as I looked at her, "I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you as well! Oh and this is Daniel, he's my..."

"Boyfriend?" I asked.

She smiled, "Yeah, I think I told you about him."

"Yeah, you did, just not his name." I said.

I walked up to him, "Hi Daniel."

"Hi Y/N, it's so nice to meet you. Your mom has said so much about you." He said.

I went inside as my mom and Daniel stayed outside talking to Laurel and Susannah.

Another car pulled up, and we easily recognized it as Belly's dad.

All of us peered out from the window in the door.

"Woah, she's hot." Conrad exclaimed from beside me.

"Conrad." I scolded, hitting him in the arm.

"I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking."

"I wasn't thinking that." Belly said defensively.

In a minute, Conrad and Steven began play righting because of Conrad's remark about Victoria being their potential step-mom.

For once this whole summer, it made us feel like all the summers before. As if nothing had ever changed.

"Guys! They're coming!" I said, hitting Conrad in the arm again.

Jeremiah, Conrad, and I ran into the house, leaving Steven and Belly to greet the parents.

The party was amazing. Gigi was talking to Susannah, Jeremiah was hanging out with Victoria, and Conrad was hanging out with Nicole...

I mostly hung out with Belly as she waited for Cam to show up.

Jeremiah, Belly and were mixing up concoctions in the kitchen after Victoria had showed us how to make her pomegranate margaritas.

"What are you three making?" Conrad asked as he came into the house.

"Pomegranate margaritas!" I exclaimed.

"But with a twist." Belly added.

"Well you have to use the good blender." Conrad said as he showed off a blender.

Jeremiah just stared at the blender. "Oh no. I haven't used that blender since the great Kool-Aid debacle of 2011."

Conrad laughed a little, "I remember, the counters were sticky for- two summers?"

"Ew. I remember that." I said.

Suddenly, it was four of us making margaritas for everyone. We added in protein powder for fun.

"No! Keep your hands on it!" Jeremiah yelled over the blender as we let go of the lid.

"Dude, you know what I miss?" Conrad asked Jeremiah.

"Huh?" Jeremiah asked.

"Watching Laurel and Amanda put Dad in his place. They'd walk in and they'd be like, "Adam." " Conrad said, accenting the name Adam.

"Adam." Laurel and my mom said as they entered the kitchen "You came."

All of us turned our heads to behind us to see Jeremiah and Conrad's dad walking through the door frame.

"Happy Fourth!" Adam said.

I looked over to Conrad, who didn't look as happy as he was a few seconds before.

"Dad!" Jeremiah said, "You came." He ran up and hugged his dad.

"Hey guys, hey Connie." Adam said. "I'll have a little of what you're mixing up there."

"Oh yeah sure." I smiled, handing him a glass.

"Y/N! How have you been?" Adam asked.

"Good, I've taken a lot of time to work on myself."

"Where'd everyone go?" Susannah's voice came out through the kitchen.

Adam looked over to the door, "Hey."

"Adam. You managed to get off work." Susannah said, yet I could sense the tension between the two of them.

"Yeah, how could I miss the Fourth with my family?" Adam said, smiling.

The tension was thick in the kitchen. None of us making a sound as we all stared at each other awkwardly.

"All right, well, let's get back to the party." Susannah said, clapping her hands.

I followed out after Belly and tried to get away from the kitchen as fast as we could.

All of us made it to the beach, hanging out and talking.

"May I present! The Belly special!" Belly exclaimed as she came down with a pitcher of the pomegranate margarita.

Nicole and Conrad were sitting next to each other on two different sun chairs, Cam Cameron had come and he was sitting on the inflatable unicorn with Belly, Steven and Shayla were sharing a floatie, and Jeremiah and I were sharing one as well.

Somehow, we had turned this into a drinking game, with all of us drinking much more than we probably should have.

I don't get Conrad." Nicole said as all of the girls sat on the dock. "It's like one minute, he's all over me, and he stays over, but we don't even fuck, right?"

Shayla, Belly, and I nodded.

"And then this morning, he's like, super into me, he was all over me, and now he's like all about football." Nicole continued. "And I know you've dated him before, Y/N, so like, what's up with him?"

"Oh yeah, he's really hard to read. Especially this year."

"Do you really think he actually likes me?" Nicole asked.

"Of course he does, Nicole. He talks about you to everyone a lot." I said.

"Really?" Nicole asked.

I nodded yes.

"Hi!" Cam said as he came down.

There was a water bottle in hand, "You may want to hydrate." He smiled as he offered it to Belly.

Belly smiled cheerfully as she grabbed his cheeks, "Cam Cameron, you are so sweet! Isn't he sweet?" She asked us clearly under the influence.

Shayla smiled, "Mhm."

"Do you want to go for a walk on the beach?" Cameron asked.

"Belly, by the way, I love that dress." Shayla complimented.

"Really?" Belly asked. "Thanks, Taylor got it for me actually."

"Mm, Taylor has great taste." Shayla smiled.

Belly laughed a little, "Yeah, I know, right? She totally does. Oh, my god. You know what? You and Taylor are like twins." Belly laughed yet again as she rambled. "Because you're both super into fashion and you're both like baddies. And you both like the same summer boys, which is.."

Shayla laughed awkwardly, "We do?"

I made eye contact with Cameron as he nodded subtly.

"Come on. Let's go for that walk." Cameron said as he tried to get Belly to sit up.

"No, no, no, Cam!" Belly said. "I'm talking. One sec. Look Shayla, like don't worry, because my brother is an absolute idiot. And it didn't mean anything."

"Let's go for a walk." Cameron said again more urgently.

"Wait, what? What didn't mean anything?" Shayla asked.

Belly stammered, "Uh, them-them kissing."

"Hey..." I said as I pushed Belly closer to the land.

"It was like... He like, loves you. He loves you and, wait, does anyone want another drink?" Belly asked.

I could see the look on Shayla's face. It dropped straight to sadness.

"Everyone's leaving. Tell them not to go." Belly said as she motioned to the group of girls packing up.

"Stay, you guys." I said, though they knew I was slightly urging them to leave.

"Oh, Shayla doesn't feel to well. I think we had a little too much." Nicole said.

"Oh, okay, but I mean. I still feel. I still feel gr-great." Belly said.

"I'm gonna head out as well." Cam said as he took the glass from Belly.

"Why?" Belly asked.

"I just think that we can catch up when you know, you're a little less..."

"A little less?"

"Um, just drink a lot of water."

"Okay. But I'm not, I'm not drunk." Belly explained.

I knew shit was going bad, so I walked off, away from the drama that had basically already unfolded.

"Conrad!" I said as I saw him walking past in the bushes as Belly and Cam were still talking.

"Yeah?" Conrad asked as we both began walking with each other. His body was covered in dirt.

"Belly's messing a little stuff up..." I said.

"Oh she's hammered." He laughed a little.

I watched as Conrad began to wipe off the dirt from his body with the cold water in the shower.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked.

"Yeah?"

"Did you buy me this for my birthday?" I asked, holding onto the sun charm. "And did you buy yourself a matching one? The moon to the sun?"

He just stared at me in shock, his mouth slightly hung open.

"Are you drunk as well?"

"No, I've had little to none to drink." I laughed.

"Wait, so you did give it to me?"

"Can you give me some privacy, please?"

Susannah came walking out, holding onto the cake.

"Where'd all the kids go?" Susannah asked.

"Uh, more for us." My mom laughed.

"I agree, Amanda." Susannah smiled.

Belly came out of the kitchen after Susannah, "Ooh! I want the piece with the strawberries!"

Her foot twisted and I watched as she fell to the floor, bringing Susannah and the cake down as well, shattering the cake stand.

"Belly, are you okay?" I asked, running to her.

"Honey, are you okay?" Adam said as he ran to Susannah "Here let me help you."

"Adam I'm fine." Susannah said as Adam attempted to help her up."I got it. I got it. I got it."

"Come on, please." Adam said.

"Stop it." Susannah hissed through gritted teeth. "Now, just go away." Susannah said.

"I-I'm sorry." Belly said as she stared at Susannah on the floor.

"Come on, let's go." Belly's dad said as she helped get Belly up from the floor.

I helped the boys as we cleaned up the backyard. The adults were inside, discussing what ever, while also checking in on Belly.

Conrad swept up the pieces of cake in the water with a net and Jeremiah and Steven threw away plastic cups and other things.

Jeremiah and Steven were bickering about who was worse at throwing cups or keeping a garbage bag open.

"Hey, dumb and dumber, can you guys get the fireworks ready and Y/N and I will clean up." Conrad said.

"Yeah, sure." Jeremiah responded.

I looked over to the left and Adam came out from inside. Conrad seemed a bit tense, but he continued to pick up the pieces of trash left behind.

"You go talk to him, I'll clean up." I said, taking the bag away from Conrad.

"Hey, Dad." Conrad said.

"Oh. Hey." Adam responded as he took out his cigarette.

"Yeah, and Belly's upstairs with her dad."

"Why'd you let her get so drunk?" Adam asked, "You're lucky her and your mom didn't get hurt."

"I didn't know she had a lot to drink." Conrad said.

"You're the oldest, you're supposed to look out for the younger kids. And you haven't been doing that. This year or last year."

"I don't know why, but I just thought I could talk to you." Conrad scoffed before walking back into the house.

"Con." I called out, but he didn't respond.

His dad had also attempted to make some conversation but that didn't work.

"Just leave, Dad." Conrad said.

I walked in after Conrad, but he was nowhere in the bottom level. I ran up to his room, not even caring to knock.

"Hey, Connie." i said, as I sat down beside him. He had his head in his hands.

"You know you can knock." Conrad said cooly.

I sighed, "Conrad, I know your dad is being a dick right now. But please. It's the Fourth."

He stared straight at me. Just staring and nothing else.

I could feel myself melt under his gaze. And it sucked. Did I like him again? It feels like I did after all the encounters we've had.

"What, is something on my face?" I asked as I began to wipe around my mouth.

He laughed a little, "No, no, just thinking."

I grabbed a towel and ran out to the pool. It was nights like these that the pool felt even more alive. When it was the Fourth and people would light up fireworks in the sky.

What caught my eye was Conrad standing at the docks.

Do I run to him?

Yes...

"Do you hate me?" I sighed as I stood beside him.

Conrad turned to look at me with a smile, "Who could ever hate you."

"Y/N" Conrad said, breaking the moment of silence.

"Yeah?"

"About the necklace..."

"Oh, no please, I'm sorry I even brought it up, I was just messing around. I know it's probably for Nicole or something." I laughed a little.

"No, no... I um... I actually did get it for you and for us."

I stared up at him, "Then why didn't you give it to me? Why did your mom give it to me?"

"I don't know." He whispered. "I got embarrassed I guess."

"Why?" I asked.

"Y/N, you don't know the effect that you can have on people." Conrad said in all seriousness.

I laughed awkwardly, "Effect on people? Conrad, I don't, I just don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah..." He said quietly, "You do."

I felt us get closer, closer than we have ever been in a year. He stared down at my lips and I stared up at his. We were inches away. Inches before I could have fucked everything up for us.

A firework came from behind us as it sparked green in the sky, bringing my attention away from him.

I stared back up at Conrad, hoping he would come and look back at me. But he didn't, so I only looked back down.

Yet, I could still feel his gaze straight on me as I looked away. He wanted me to look back to him as well, but I didn't. I just couldn't meet his eyes.

I breathed heavily as we both stared across the water, watching the fireworks light up in the sky.

I knew we both felt the same. And I knew we just couldn't get back together.

[mistressreaper]

Love On The Brain 2

⚠️: swearing, violence, unwanted touching by a stranger

I hope yall like this series so far as much as I do❤️❤️ And thank you so much once again to @spark2flame they are gonna help me so much with this series!!

“Move nerd!” A shoulder slammed into yours causing you to stumble forward in the busy hallway. You glared at the blonde and met his crimson gaze.

“Nerd? I prefer just being called more intelligent.” Bakugo stopped in his tracks and turned to face you. “Don’t be rude just because you couldn’t solve a math problem and I could.” A small crowd had gathered around the two of you, wondering if a fight was going to break out. A smirk grows on Bakugo’s face.

“So you think you’re so intelligent huh? Then what about this?” He pulls a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and throws it, hitting your nose. You picked the ball up and unfurled the paper, a long math problem presented itself at the top. To be fair this was a harder problem than the teachers should be giving middle schoolers. Running through the multiple processes in your mind you smiled and looked up at Bakugo.

“145, if you think I’m wrong go have the teacher check it.” With that you walked away, but not before crumpling up and throwing the paper back at him.

—————

You were sitting on the bench waiting for the bus when someone huffed and plopped down next to you. “You were right, nerd.” Shifting your gaze Bakugo had his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. “Do ya think you could start helping me in that class?” A smirk covered your features as you looked at him.

“Of course I can, on one condition.” He raised an eyebrow at you waiting for your answer. “Stop calling me nerd.”

•••••

“Hey, nerd.” The nickname stuck, but now there was no malice behind it. A large hand ruffled your hair as Bakugo leaned against the lockers.

“Bakugo!” You groaned hurriedly fixing your hair. After tutoring him in middle school you two quickly became best friends. You were the first person who had stood up to him and he had respected that.

“Kirishima is having a party tonight, you going?”

“Obviously. When have you known me to miss a Halloween party? What’s your costume?”

“Ghostface.”

You hummed, “Simple but hot, you’ll have all the girls swooning I’m sure.”

“Maybe but I’m only looking for a certain one”

You closed your locker and picked up your bag, “Well I’m sure you’ll get her Kacchan.”

————

Memories flooded back as you got ready. You and Bakugo were invited to Kirishima’s annual Halloween party as always, except now Bakugo has to have more elaborate costumes to maintain a low profile. You had on some torn black fishnets, a short black dress and a pair of chunky black boots. You didn’t have time to plan a costume so this would have to work. Walking back to the living room you caught a glimpse of Bakugo. Ripped black jeans and combat boots are all he had on at the moment, you could feel your cheeks turn pink. “Have you seen my long sleeve?” He asked.

“Did you look in the dryer?” He gave you a deadpan look, “I’ll take that as a yes. If it’s not there or in your closet then I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Fuck it then I’ll wear this.” He pulled a form fitting white t shirt on. “You ready?”

“No costume?”

“Nah, I told Eiji I’d do a couple songs so there’s no use in hiding this year.” He spun his key ring around his finger while he waited for you.

Bakugo parked the car and helped you out due to the loose gravel and the boots you chose to wear. “How the fuck are you walking in those?”

You chuckled, “it’s not hard, just takes practice.” You two arrived at the front door and Kirishima greeted you.

“There’s my two favorite pals!” Eiji’s eyes looked over you and he gave a low whistle, “You���re looking good sweetheart.” A huff came from beside you and Bakugo’s face was contorted into a scowl.

“Where’s the set up?” With that Eiji led you through the massive house and the whole time Bakugo’s hand was on your back, helping you weave through the crowds of people. When you got to the makeshift stage Bakugo turned to you, “Hey be careful while we’re here okay?” You nodded. As he was getting ready you somehow found your way to the kitchen to pour you and Bakugo a drink. You got back to the stage and handed him the cup of beer. He downed it in one go and brought the microphone up to his lips, “How’s everybody doing tonight?” The cheers from everyone echoed. The music started and you smiled to yourself, of course this should be the song he starts off with.

“I've been searching for an answer, but I ain't found one. I've been known to tear shit up and go off like a gun. I've been drinking way too much, but now I think I'm done.” The music drops and a smirk is plastered on Bakugo’s face, “Fuck that shit let’s start a riot!”

You were in the front of the crowd, swaying your hips to the music and sipping on your drink. You were the designated driver for tonight but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little bit to loosen up.

The night continued on, Bakugo finished performing a while ago and he and Kirishima were getting shit faced. You were still nursing your second cup since it would be your last for the night. There was some rock music playing over the speakers and you’d be damned if you sat down now. You continued to dance, the alcohol helping out a bit. The sound drowning out your thoughts. You felt an arm snake around you waist and someone brush up against your backside, “Well don’t you look lovely tonight.” You glanced behind you and saw a handsome man with long white hair, he was dressed in all black with bright red shoes.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You hummed. You continued dancing with the man, grinding up on him. You saw Bakugo round the corner and send a frown your way, but you didn’t pay any mind. Probably mad about something he and Eiji were talking about. Your mystery man’s hands started tracing up your body, stopping right below your breasts before lightly squeezing them. “Hey there watch-“

“Alright that’s enough!” The man’s hands were ripped away from you and you whipped around to see Bakugo shoving the guy back. “Keep your hands off her!”

“Bakugo!” You yelled but the music was so loud you don’t know if he heard you. You saw the man you were dancing with say something you couldn’t hear, then suddenly Bakugo’s fist made contact. The two men were on the ground pummeling each other before Bakugo got the advantage and pinned the other man. Over and over his fist landed blows, finally you were able to snap out of your trance and run over.

“Katsuki! Quit, get off of him!” Bakugo looked up at you, a crazed, jealous look in his eyes. He stood up and wiped the blood from his nose.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed your arm and dragged you out to the car. You could smell the alcohol on his breath.

When you got to the car you dug your heels into the gravel, “What the fuck Bakugo? Why did you do that?” You ripped the keys from his hand and marched around to the drivers side. You were fired up right now and not wanting to listen to any excuses from him. “Get in the fucking car.” You barked. The ride home was silent. No talking, no radio, nothing. You pulled into the garage and killed the engine. “I could’ve handled that.”

“Really? Because it seems like you were just taking it.” Bakugo huffed and gave you a pissed off look.

“Who says I didn’t want him to do that?” You yelled.

“Oh yeah, because you wanted some random pervert to come feel up on you. Whatever.” He got out of the car and slammed the door. You did the same and stormed up to him.

“Katsuki Bakugo! Look at me!” The blonde spun around fiery red eyes boring into you. “First off I could’ve fucking handled that, I was saying something before you interrupted. Second off what if that guy fucking sues you? This isn’t like that one punch fiasco last month, you beat the ever loving shit out of that guy! That could kill your career and-“

“Would you shut the fuck up already!” He yelled. You flinched from how loud his voice was, Bakugo has never yelled at you in the many years you’ve known him. “I don’t care about that right now! He had been messing with other women all night long, harassing them to no end. So when I saw him with you,” He paused and looked at you. His eyes had already softened from the sharp, hateful gaze they were just a moment ago. “All night I watched him to make sure he didn’t go near you. The one time I looked away he was all over you and I couldn’t stand it!”

“Kats-“

“You have no clue do you?” You gave him a confused look. He shook his head, “Nevermind.” He began walking away but you reached out and grabbed his hand.

“Katsuki,” you said softly, “Let me patch you up please. Your knuckles are busted.” He let out a sigh and nodded. You took the lead and kept a hold of his hand until you got to the kitchen. He sat in the chair while you got the first aid kit from under the sink. You sank to your knees in front of him and started wiping his knuckles with the alcohol wipes. He hisses at the stinging but doesn’t flinch away. You begin wrapping the bandage when he says something that shocks you.

“This isn’t how I pictured you on your knees for me.”

[dietmountaindewbae]

xix. start to melt

alex turner x reader

word count: 7069

summary: A conflict arrived at the christmas dinner, feelings were served for dessert and a bitter taste of the past had to be swallowed down to prevent any heartaches, it's hard to see him (2014 Alex!) but even harder to resist him, now that he's there with his new girl, would it be easier to pretend that he was just some lover?

warnings: sp*t, ch*cking, hitt*ng, degr*ding

song recommendation: start to melt by peter bjorn

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New York became a crazy town when December wooshed into the air, the stores had become empty shelves, restaurants were packed with people, and on every corner, a Santa was ringing his bell and singing. This year's Christmas was just like the others, just with some tiny changes you ignored.

You ran alongside your boyfriend into the building where your friend would host a Christmas dinner, packed with a big pot you wait for the elevator to take you up to the apartment, "James, help me with the pot, it's too heavy on me" Jack, your boyfriend that sometimes could be such an ass when he was annoyed, eyed you up and down, you were visibly struggling with the red heavy ceramic pot, and on his arms, he was holding the presents for everyone, yes they were a few but not so heavy.

"Honey, I can't just drop the boxes and grab the pot, you know how long it took you to wrap them up..."

"Maybe I wouldn't have if you had helped me-" He interrupts you by kissing your nose.

"Calm down.... we're almost there," He says to you, "And it's not even that heavy for you" Before you could blast off on him the bell dings and the doors open.

"Hi!" Your best friend's boyfriend Nick says, "Oops! That looks heavy, let me help you... oh smells nice" You look from the corner of your eye to Jack and he easily ignores what Nick said. You went running to Giselle in the kitchen, you were stoked to see her and she hugged you tightly, her arms wrapped around your shoulders to push you closer and whisper in your ear.

"Don't freak out, but he is here.... and he brought the girl with the red hair, and white dress comin' at ya" Your heart shrinks when you see her walking in slowly to the kitchen with a big merengue pie, a bright and sweet smile on her lips, you didn't know what to even say to her, her presence makes you feel uneasy.

"Nice to see you, I'm Ariel" You hug her like protocol and introduce yourself with the most fake smile, then from the back came in who you were expecting the least out of all, he hugs her close with his arm around her waist, he came inside wearing the same leather jacket you used to borrow, a stripped red, gold and silver shirt you used to wear around his bedroom, stiff vintage jeans and boots, he takes a look at you, from head to toes, slowly, taking a deep breath in, you wore a long sleeve black short dress with a chunky belt around your hips, and knee high boots his face showing nothing and everything at the same time while you stood confused and angry all at once "This is-"

"They already know me..." He said in a cocky and cold tone, you held your breath, you didn't know how to feel about his presence, or why had he even had the nerve to be here after counting ties with his for so long, you had stripped out of any feeling about him, you set a goal to treat him as a ghost and just focus on Jack.

Giselle sensed the tension, and knew what she had to do immediately, "Ariel, would you be so nice and help me set the table?" She added some needed social pressure to her, no one knew her, and she seemed like the type to love being loved, she grabbed Alex's hand pulling him to go with her but he released his hand and signed her to wait for him.

He walks two steps closer to you, breaking the meter barrier from one corner of the kitchen marble table to the other "How are you?" He asked almost whispering, you had no reply, you went to turn on the oven, and the giant pot went inside, "You've lost weight" He added as he searched for an answer from you in any sort of way.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" You spat back.

"We're going to play ghost, just like the ol' times aren't we?" He chuckles.

"No" That's all you said before you walked out of the kitchen, he squeezes your arm grabbing your attention.

"I'm here, and I'm real, don't act like I'm dead to you 'cause we both know that will never be the case," He said your name like a decease as he slowly let go of your arm, his intense gaze was locked on yours, "Who is that, huh? New boy toy?" He asks referring to Jack in the back as he puts order to the presents

You cross a foot in front of the other, running your tongue on your cheek, leaning against the table, speaking confidently "You have told her about me, haven't you? She walks in and somehow she's so happy to see me" You whisper to him, staring at him with a scowl when he stays silent, "That's low, and even for you Turner" You walk off, running to kiss Jack passionately by the christmas three, you didn't doubt that Alex had seen it. He had to see that you were better now, better off without him, or at least that's what you wanted things to be. You went to say hi to the rest, caressing the little face of Jamie's and Katie's kid, hugging them tightly because despite the separation they still messaged you from time to time, especially Katie and Bree, both of them came to visit your when they had the chance, attended to the fashion shows you walked in, you stayed in touch with Jamie, and Matt sometimes took pictures of you for his Instagram, he had some sort of thing for taking pictures of people's back.

After a massive heartbreak during the release of Suck It and See, you were at the hands of time and patience, Giselle stuck with you even though she was going to join the boys during the tour, Nick had told you several times how he was doing bad too, had lost weight, looked sick until he completely changed from night to day into a lady's man and a casanova, a total heartbreaker, a million dollar man. That's around the time when other girls came into his life, and began to date again, it seemed like he had gotten over you so quickly that it broke your heart even more, he had promised you marriage, but all of that fame, you simply couldn't make him surrender that part of his life to you even though you tried several times, you never told him to quit music, you just wanted him to let you into that part of his life that was sensitive, why was he so afraid of commitment?

For almost two years you had restored yourself and moved apartments since in yours you could still hear his boots walking around the place, and the sound of his guitar in your living room, he had left a few things in there that Nick was so kind to give back to him since you couldn't even see him on a picture, and the internet was flooded with them. After a while you returned to your job, as an editor for fashion magazines and a blogger as a hobby that soon turned into more than that, you had become famous, a model, a muse for many campaigns, and quickly into an it girl. People were writing articles about you but his name was written all over them.

At a party, you met Jack, and he was a prince charming at first, he was a barely recognized photographer and his career exploded when he began to take your photos, then those other girls came around... and you started to feel left out, but he promised you that nothing ever really happened, he had other priorities in his life now, and you didn't feel like the center of his universe anymore. Were you happy? That's a question that you ask yourself daily, and leaving Jack was always something that bothered you to think about. When you tried, you surrendered to him and felt guilty even to try to break up with someone who could do what Alex couldn't, and that was to get engaged with you, you weren't strong enough to break the engagement, you thought no one else would do it, just Jack. He asked you in the same place he had met you, in front of thousands of people, what else could you say but yes? You convinced yourself that was the right thing to do.

Time later his name echoed in the dark and appeared at 3 in the morning like a phantom, his name written all over your emails, and texts, you only once replayed, he visibly was struggling with alcohol and sometimes drugs, Nick had told you everything about it and had told him several times to leave you alone until he eventually did, but that peace only lasted for a few months and then, AM dropped like a bomb all over the world, you tried your best to fight thru the sound waves all over the news, radio, blogs, newspaper, magazines, his face was all over yours once more, rumors about his new girlfriend Ariel like his muse for AM. You were far away from Alex by living in New York while he lived in sunny Los Angeles and that kept you at peace, you thought someday the album and his name would die out, but it never did, not even to the day.

Now there you were, in front of him feeling like an orphan, filled with sadness with a cozy coat of rage, you all sat down to eat, Alex had chosen to sit in front of you, what was the reason for that? You were far to know, Giselle and Nick were well aware of it.

"Would you excuse us for a minute?" Giselle stood up and grabbed your hand, you whispered a sorry and she took you out to the balcony, and you grabbed your cigarettes and fur coat.

Once she closed the door, you put your hand on your head and lit up a cigarette that you craved more than the food itself, "Care to explain to me what the fuck is he doing here?"

"Woah! Don't get mad at me I didn't know he was coming either," She said, "He just tagged along with Jamie and Matt, he carried so many gifts for everyone, how could I say no to that? How could I say no in front of Jamie's kid?" She snatched a cigarette from your box, and you leaned over at the balcony and stared into the yellow lines of cabs and cars.

"Sorry for yelling at you like that, it's not your fault"

"No, I know it isn't, I'm sorry 'bout Ariel"

You rolled your eyes, "She's so lovely it makes me feel ill" She was a ray of sunlight and a fresh California breeze while you were the gloomy mornings and foggy air of New York. Ariel was the thing that he always needed, someone who always cheered him up, someone who enjoyed being out and about, someone who had no problem making conversation and meeting new people.

"I know..." She grunts, "She even has the name of a fucking-"

"Disney princess!" Both of you said in unison, making each other laugh hysterically, "I know!"

"You're a piece of shit" You whisper shouted to Giselle.

"Shut the fuck up or we're getting kicked out of my dinner" You both giggled to each other, hugging each other tightly, Giselle was more than your best friend, she was your sister, the type of friend you had never thought you would get, you were thankful for her. She grabbed your hand and walked you back to the table, you glanced at Katie's baby, at the diamond on her ring, how did the rest make it while Alex was still living the life, breaking hearts, dating models, hanging out, why was he like that, hell did he loved that life more than you?

Then Ariel mentioned your name dragging your attention back to her, Alex's arm was around her shoulders, looking at her looking at you, "I love all of your blogs! Have you got any words of wisdom for girls who are starting their own thing too?" God, what was that? an interview for Today?

"Let me have more wisdom juice and I'll give you some words" You elegantly finished your glass of wine while the rest laughed at your joke, you grabbed Jack's hand and kicked his foot under the table, Alex's chest raises as he takes a deep breath in, "Well, be brave and work hard, even if you think it's not paying off, it is, so just keep working on it, and choose someone that supports you thru it" You glanced at Alex, "Someone that you can trust, that makes you feel strong and loved" He squints his eyes at you, and you sit back with a smile.

She kissed Alex on the lips, cupping his cheek, Giselle was kind enough to serve you more wine and sneak a little bottle of vodka into your hands, she winked your eye at you, Alex seemed bothered by the words you chose to say, but you didn't care at this point, you saw Jacks head on his phone chatting with his stupid friends, and his hand had let go of yours, you grabbed it and his hand was holding yours loosely, and moments later he let go of it to type with both of his thumbs, you swallowed down a big lump, feeling lonelier than ever. Jack was well aware of Alex, but he felt nothing about it, he wasn't thinking about how you felt about it.

"What do you do for a living Ariel?" You poured yourself another drink.

"Oh well, I'm a content creator" You raised your eyebrows with a smirk on your face, "But I started just like you, I felt deeply inspired by the way that you started so I thought if you could do it... well, why not me?" You nodded your head slowly glancing at Alex from time to time, he was looking away or pretending to look at Ariel but he was without any doubt looking at you.

"Oh that's... amazin', isn't it?" You turned to look at him, and he smiled kissing Ariel's head.

"Yeah of course it is, we had fun makin' 'em vines things didn't we?" She smiled at him and giggled nodding with her luscious red hair.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you guys knew each other" Said Ariel with a little fainted smile.

"Oh! no, no, no, in fact, I don't even know his name" Giselle covered up her laugh with a cough.

"When is the wedding?" Katie jumped in to change the subject visibly feeling uncomfortable by the little confrontation, "Don't think I haven't seen that bling bling on your ring ring!" You put your hand up in the air, showing off the ring that Jack gave you, all of the girls were in awe while you saw in Alex's face every emotion going past him, he couldn't believe it, he had swallowed down the most bitter pill ever. He couldn't even see Jack's face without wanting to kick him off his chair.

"Congratulations!" Ariel said, "You guys make a lovely couple"

The rest of the evening everyone kept talking about Giselle and Nick's engagement, Matt and Bree's upcoming wedding day, Forest's birthday, and his Christmas gifts, a few asked Jack about his work but he didn't say much until he put your hand on your inner thigh after a while of being on his phone he had finally turned it off.

"Don't you wanna go upstairs, baby?" He whispers to you, "I'm getting bored," He caressed your thigh getting higher and higher, you were about to go off on him until his phone buzzed, and he directed his attention to his phone, his hand sliding off of your thigh but you quickly put your hand on his, and turned his face his eyes fixated on you.

"Ok, let's go" You both excused yourself, and he went to the bathroom while you went to the kitchen to clean some plates while the rest took their things to the living room, and sneakily you joined him in the bathroom, where he hungrily waited for you, he kissed you so passionately it almost made you feel like you were right at the beginning of your relationship, he was fast and giddy, sliding his hand in between your legs while his hand grabs on your ass tightly, he slides down your panties, putting his fingers inside you harshly, it hurts but you try to enjoy it, "Mmm, God you're so wet" You giggled and kissed him, taking out his dick from his jeans, he flipped you, back on his chest and you leaned over the sink as he slides his dick inside you, you don't really feel anything anymore, but maybe if you moan a little, touch yourself more, you'd like it more, but his stupid phone buzzed and buzzed, someone was calling him, "Wait like that, it'll be fast" You rolled your eyes, and pulled away from him

"You take longer in your phone than what you take in fucking me" You clean a little smudge from your lipstick, fixed your hair and belt. You left him inside the bathroom and returned to the kitchen, everyone was talking and drinking by the three, Alex glanced at you, and scanned you up and down, walking discreetly towards you.

"Blew some steam off?" You sighed, and poured yourself a glass of vodka, "You don't seem like you're having fun" He pulled the little hairs off your head, rolled your eyes, and fixed your hair.

"Go fuck yourself," You said, he laughed at you and smiled.

"You go fuck yourself darlin' you look like you need it" You scoffed and walked towards him, it was on.

"Go fuck myself? Right... don't think I don't see you staring at me you perv, I see behind your cockiness and smirks, you think you're better than me? go on and tell her about me... you fucking coward, you can't ever face things, you don't have the balls to" You smiled at him, feeling wildly satisfied, this was better than an orgasm.

"You think you're so fucking awesome with your piece of shit boyfriend, who can't even last five fucking minutes with you"

"Who are you to fucking judge?" You quickly backfired, he pulled himself closer to you, squeezing your shoulder.

"Oh really? Do you think he pleases you? I know more about pleasure than any of the other dickheads you could ever fuck" You chuckled and moved your head to the sides, "Say no all you want but I know that I just need my pinky to make you come in seconds than that asshole in an hour" You looked down to his veiny and strong rough hands, you remember how you fidget at night with his death ramps ring, you bot down on your lower lip.

"But that asshole had bigger balls to commit to me, and you will never be brave enough to do that" He looks down at you, starting to feel a bit sad, and he took a step closer to you.

"Is that why you're so mad at me? Because I didn't propose to you?" He said with a serious tone.

"I don't give a shit about that, and you know it, you never wanted anyone to screw up your rockstar life because you love it more than sex, you even loved it more than me, even more than her" He gets angrier by the mentioning of the relationship you and he had, he squeezes your shoulder harder, each time he was starting to feel more sensitive, you penetrated places beneath his thick skull that always made him feel weak, "Admit it" How could he admit to something so far from the truth? There was nothing that fueled him with anger more.

"That's a lie and you know it, there were so many things behind you couldn't have understood-"

"What couldn't I understand, huh? I loved you so much I opened up to you, but you just opened up a window and called it a door, tell me what couldn't I understand Alex? Because I'm here and after this, I will make sure that you never see my face again... I'm doing you a favor" You spat, it devastated you to say these words, "I never wanted to get engaged or to have kids, but I would have loved to have your kids and to be part of your life like the closed lock on the door of our backyard, but you never gave me that chance because the only thing that you loved more than me was you and your fucking life" You walked away leaving him speechless and you ran across Jack, your stupid man child boyfriend.

"Hi baby, sorry I had to attend that call, you know it's important, right?" 'What could be more important than you and your fucking friends talking about pussy and tits?

"I know, tell me what is it" He looked at you strangely, was he playing dumb or didn't he see how bad you felt? And you dealing with him was the last thing you wanted to do.

"Look" He put his hands on your lower waist and pulled you in closer to whisper to your ear, you could already imagine what was he going to say "I know you're upset because Alex is here" You hated to even hear his name and the worst part is that he knew it, "But my friends are also making a dinner, do you wanna ditch this one and go with me?" You put your hands on his chest pulling him away slowly, "Or can I go? I swear I'll be back before midnight"

"I'm not your mom Jack if you want to go just fucking go" You walked away to sit with everyone by the tree, Jamie had pulled out his guitar while Katie held Forest on his tiny and puffy feet to dance and wave his arms, he looked so tiny and cute, it truly made your heart melt because you knew, that would never be you, Giselle sat close to you, and watched you observe Ariel, clapping her hands and singing along, her smile bright as the sun, she was stunning in her white dress and golden jewelry, red lips the same color of her hair, you would never be like her, you were stuck in your skin, pushing everyone away after one single thing went wrong, Giselle saw you struggling and she discreetly grabbed your fingers squeezing them, you turn to look at her, she gives you a tender smile to warm up your insides, you squeezed her hand back and walked off to the balcony, you put on your coat and head outside.

New York was covered in fog and the light of the cars shone through the gloom, the cold breeze froze your hands but you managed to light up your cigarette and put your back against the wall, then you heard someone stepping outside, you glanced and it was Alex. He stood in front of you, staring at you up and down, he put the back of his hand against your cheek, just like he used to, you felt something weighing in your heart, "Do you do that to Ariel?"

"No" He answers quickly, caressing your bottom lip, and pulling it down, "I would never touch her or love her the same way I loved you"

"Then why are you with her?" You asked him.

"Why are you with him?" Both of you stare into each

"I was just trying to begin' again, you were with her, you had moved on... and I hadn't," You said with honesty, "I can't even say your name,"

"Meeting you was the worst thing that happened to me too, you showed me what true love was, but I was afraid to let you down, to not be what you wanted"

"You were what I needed," You said, your throat closed, and your cheeks became warm, and your eyes watery, your lips became a pout, you couldn't speak, so you stare at him, you both saw the mess that was behind all the scowls. He leaned in closer to you and you stepped back, and his lips rosed yours, it had been so long since you had felt something inside you sparked like that, you had lost it the day he left you, you kissed each other, he had longed for the taste of your mouth, of bitting down on your plump lips, of the smell of your perfume, nothing about your appearance was different but you felt different, and that foreign feeling of love was getting thru the tall wall you had built, more tears rolled down your cheeks warming up the kiss, he had yearned for this kiss for so long, the taste of your salty tears that he used to wipe away with the same love and tenderness.

"I only came here 'cause I knew you would be here, I needed to know if you still felt the same, I can't keep my feelings in disguise," You thought about it, yes, you felt the same way, but would it be worth to take the risk and maybe end up devastated like last time, would you handle another broken heart?

"I can't," You said.

"Do you love him?" He asked, and you only saw him straight in the eyes, "Do you love me still?"

"Would you hurt me again?" You asked, "I don't care if the rest says that you've changed, I need you to earn me back again because I'm not gonna let you destroy everything I build up just as easily" You cleaned up your tears and went back inside quickly fetching your bag and locking yourself up in the bathroom.

You sat down on the floor and curled into a little ball by the sink, you had that gut-destroying feeling of your limps turning inside out, you wanted to rip off everything away, and you silently cried holding in all the rage, and the need to tear the whole place down, and then you heard someone forcing themselves in with a key, Giselle wooshed inside the bathroom to hug you, you felt like a tiny deer being hunt.

"How I hate him... I hate to hate him, and I hate that I still want him even after everything he did to me" You cried so quietly in Giselle's arms because she understood everything so well, even during the times she went thru this, you were with her, "I wish that I had never seen him, everyone tells me that he has changed but I don't trust them, I only trust you, I hate everyone else," She slides down to the floor with you, handing you another tiny bottle of vodka, "And then he asks me if I love Jack..."

"Do you?" She asks, but not because she doesn't know, she wants you to admit the truth.

"I don't... he acts like fucking Mr. Brightside when he's with all of his friends, but I know how he's like when the party ends," You emptied the bottle down your throat, "I hate him too," You said under your breath.

"Me too" You both giggled at the irony, "I hate that you think you're in love when the only person I've seen you love more than me is him," She said, "You still love him and you can't say no, but I know how hard it must be to let him come back, you know I love you, and whatever you choose to do I'll always be by your side," You hug her tightly and she lets go of you to wipe down your face and your little bambi eyes, "I'm glad some of that black went away, your eyes were too smokey" You botch chuckled and nod, "Fix that makeup and go outside, I'll be waiting for you with a bigger bottle of these" She waved the little vodka bottles and you nod, doing your makeup all over again with the things you brought, you fixed your eyeliner and smudged it a little, reapplying your lipstick and blush.

As you headed out, you saw Alex singing to Forest while Jamie played with him, he kept laughing with his sweet baby voice, and Giselle handed you a glass and poured you a drink.

"Sing the new song you made on the plane," Ariel said, "He's been working on it with Miles" You paid genuine attention to what Ariel said, he's been working with Miles again? That must mean a new TLSP project or maybe just a new song for Miles.

"First impressions of the century..."

You were completely shocked when you heard him sing once more, flashbacks of you at your old house shacking the tambourine to the rhythm of the music while Alex sat with his little messy and shaggy hair, he looked just like a puppy, and now he looked like a real tough man with all of that muscle and his slick hair, he had grown up so much too, you missed his side profile and his tender voice, now it had gone deeper, and you could hear exactly what the song could be like the moment he began to play it, your eyes light up when he says.

"Used to be my girl"

Giselle turns to you slowly, and everyone else looks at each other, then Ariel, Alex, and back to you, you hated the feeling of Ariel being so blinded by his charm, she clapped her hands so excited by the song.

"Isn't it great?" She glanced at everyone and all of them smiled nodding their heads.

"Yeah.... it's g-great" Giselle stutters with a kind and pityful smile. Pour Ariel, you hated the fact you might be guilty for her broken heart. Would you risk that? She seemed excited and in love with him, you wouldn't have wished that ache in the heart of anyone.

The rest of the night was full of surprises, opening the gifts at midnight, Jack simply messaging you a late Merry Christmas.

"What a fucking asshole," You said showing the message to Giselle she sat crossed leg in her fancy white shiny dress with a big bow on her back, you loved it.

"Maybe you should say goodbye to him and hello to you know who" Giselle whispered to you. No one else but her would or could understand what kind of love Alex and you had, it was no ordinary love, no passenger love, she was certain it could be the real thing, but things happened, and she was there to stand by you because she also knew someday you would see him again, if he was meant for you, out of fate or out of will.

"What about Ariel?" You asked.

"Maybe Alex can work something out, you don't know anything about her and their relationship" She insists.

"But I do know him, and they've been together for a while-"

"I need to talk to you" You glanced at Ariel when he went up to you, she was busy on the couch watching The Grinch with Jamie, Katie, and Forest, you looked at him up and down, and he held out his hand for you. You simply stood up and went with him to the bathroom.

He shut the door with a lock, cupping your cheeks and kissing you with the same need and passion as the years before, as if nothing had changed between you, "Alex... don't... stop" You mumbled and pushed him away.

"Don't stop? that's what you mean?" He suggests, pulling away from your mouth, you open your eyes and his hand drops to the back of your head, "That's what I thought" He forces a kiss on your lips and his hands grip your hips and push them against him.

"No Alex, I'm being serious... what about her?" You asked him, sorrow in your eyes when you asked about her, even if you didn't know her you could picture how she felt, he could make you see heaven, drag the moon and the stars to your feet, and still break your heart into a million little pieces.

"I'll tell her after this, ok? You don't have to worry about it" He kissed you and then he pulled away deep in thought, "And Jack?"

"Don't worry about him either, I'll just text him" You bite down on your lower lip, "He gets what he deserves" You said with a smirk, finally, how hungry were you for the moment to dump a man by text.

"Can I trust you will drop that wanker?" You roll your eyes, he drops his gaze to lock your eyes on him, the wrinkles in his forehead making you smile.

"Can I trust you with her?" He nods his head.

"Yes, you can" You were losing yourself entirely on him, his smell, his face, his lips, the touch, the need, the gripping, pulling, and bitting, you were out, "I love you more than anything or anyone... I never meant to-"

"We're just making things worse Alex," You said to him.

"Why?" He asks with genuine innocence.

"By saying I love you when everything is about to crumble to pieces just because of us," You said, "And I don't know what you did to that girl or what you do to girls to get them and convince them, but this one... you're gonna fuck her up, and I don't wanna be-"

"You won't, I know her, she doesn't know the full story and she's not the type to judge a book by its cover, she will understand" You rolled your eyes, and he sighed out of annoyance and despair, like a little kid in a store. He insists that you trust what he's saying, he pinches your cheeks together and you push his face away before he can kiss you.

"How are you so fucking sure she will understand? No girl ever is like that, every girl wants to be the only one in a man's life, if not the first to come then the last to stay... Alex, she loves you"

"But I love you!" He shouts, and you shake, as the feeling of cold shivers running all over your body electrocute your skin, "If I'm not with you I don't think I'll ever be capable of loving someone else, I can't let you get away, not again... I was so afraid of what could happen if you got engaged to me, everyone in the media would find out things about you even the most superficial things, that might tear us down, and you'd eventually start to hate that, how they violate and expose your private life thanks to me, and then, you would eventually start to hate me too"

"Why would you ever think that?" You asked pulling him closer to you, "No, I wouldn't ever leave you for something that stupid, they won't ever know what we have, who I am and who you are, I know exactly who you are, and I love you, I truly do" He took the ring off your hand, and threw it away, "Let's start again, I trust you'll figure things out, just... please don't get anyone hurt"

"Oh, I won't... but I don't promise anything about that fucking jackass you're-" He smiled to himself, "Were dating" He grabbed your wrists, "How did you manage to spend all of that time with that asshole...?" He bit down on his lip, his thumb pressed against your chin exposing your neck and slowly kissing it, your skin filling up with shivers.

"Oh, fuck... the same thing I asked myself every fuckin' day" You sighed breathing against his shoulder, you loved hearing the sounds that his wet lips made whenever he pressed a subtle kiss on your cheek, the warmth, and the little tickles, "He just didn't have it, didn't have the attitude, the confidence... the size" Your hand went down to grab his cock tightly as you bite down on your lip, "Spit in my mouth baby, I know you miss it" You open your mouth for him to spit in, his warm saliva all over your tongue, his kisses your mouth erotically and hard, and he pulls away to slap you in the face.

"Oh... fuck you're just makin' me-" He groaned as he gripped your arms to the side, pushing you against the sink, ass pressed against his hard dick, "That dress, such a shame that asshole didn't see it like that..." Your dress crumbled up to your hips, exposing your thin black panties and your round ass he kneaded like dough.

"Let's make this quick, Alex, I know you can" You smirked, and he quickly undo the buckle of his jeans to pull out his pulsing red cock, it felt so warm inside you, both of you moaned at the feeling of your bodies, he felt so warm and big, filled you up to the point you swore you could come just as easy, and he felt that electric shocks running up his body, his cock slides inside you with ease, your walls immediately adjusting to the size of his cock and he loved feeling your muscles contracting, tensing and squeezing, your little peachy fuzzy hairs on your arms raising up when his fingertips traced over your flushed and tender skin, how your body moves when he thrusts inside you, your back bends and your neck nudges to the side, he pressed his lips against your sweet spot, he looks at you thru the mirror, such a fucking picture.

"Ugh... fuckin' christ, keep going please...!" He covers up your mouth some of your hair sticking to your lipstick.

"Do you want everyone to hear you fucking, you little perverted slut?" He smiled bitting down on his bottom lip, he looks at you thru the mirror, your pupils dilated, cheeks flushed, hair messy and ruined, "Maybe they should know how good I fuck you, no one else could fuck you just as good, just as deep... you hear me?" You hummed as a yes, "You love it, don't you? I bet you missed being degraded to the ground, being pushed to the limits, that khaki wearing little shit couldn't even get closer... this is what you needed, a good and deep fuck from a real man to get you to see who can really give you what you want" He smiled, kissing your cheek and speeding up spanking your ass, and chocking you with the hand that was on your mouth, he pulled your hair back and he smelled your hair, the smell of vanilla and your poisonous perfume stung that part of his brain that flashed so many memories, he had missed that smell, he had certain melancholy about it whenever he smelled something similar, you were everywhere and he couldn't get you out of his skin.

You face had gone red, all stained with your lipstick and your tears and he keeps pushing his hips harder and harder, he sees your face thru the mirror, enjoying the view of your pleasure, you felt every single thrust and contraction of your walls, his fingers rubbing your sensitive spot relentlessly, your mouth making out chocked moans only Alex could get off on, he never had seen you get this needy, and after years of forcing your own release out of your body you finally relaxed and felt every part of your creamy and juicy release running down your thighs, one more thrust and you had gone into oblivion, Alex closed his eyes and pulled out of you so quickly when he felt you had finished, he dropped you to your knees and pulled your head back, sticking out your tongue to taste his cum all over your tongue, running it thru your teeth with a big smile, you were like a work of art in his eyes, with all of that body paint on your legs, on your arms and on your face.

"My God... I missed you so much" He went down to his knees, running his hands down your hair and letting them sit on your nape, "When we go out I'll tell her, ok?" He sighed.

"What the fuck? It's christmas Alex!" You said to him, he smacked his lips and smiled at you.

"Sorry, I-I forgot, I just want us to begin again, as soon as possible," He held your hands together.

"Let's give ourselves some time before we do this, I need to talk to Jack's parents about the engagement-"

He puts your hand on his face, "Calm down, babe"

"We're gonna make things worse Al" He grunted and kissed your mouth tenderly.

"Woman, I promise I'll be with you when it all falls down"

"Fine" You kissed him once more, you both entered into each other's heart, making you smile from the inside out, teeth colliding, heart touching heart, wrapping each other in to never let go, kissing until your mouths were dry and your lungs were out of breath.

"Soon you'll be mine woman, all mine, even through you always were but this time I'll make sure it's for good"

A/N

Merry christmas everyone! thank you so much for reading and voting on my chapters, and sorry for the people that are called like the people in this chapter no bad intentions were put into choosing the names of the characters, it was easier to name a few people. I hope you have a lovely and cozy christmas.

love you! 💞

[mangoisms]

i'll be the dangerous ledge (you be the parachute)

━ chapter eight: you are beautiful like i’ve never seen | read chapter seven

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 5.6k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

The first day of the four-day series between the Gotham Knights and the Metropolis Monarchs is soon upon you.

Like usual, Knights fans show up for their team. Even if they suck and have, on average, the worst win-loss record in the entire MLB, well. Gothamites take loyalty seriously. And you get it, anyway. Only you can say they suck miserably. Not the pretentious jerks who came down from Metropolis to jeer at the Knights. 

“They’re just jealous,” you say, sulkily biting into a pretzel, then offering it to Tim wordlessly as your eyes scan the packed stands. To your pleasure, despite the likely outcome of today’s game — and this series, the first one between the two teams finally taking place in Gotham — you see that those dressed in grey and blue, the Knights’ colors, outnumber those in Monarchs colors, which are white and red. 

He takes a bite, then, around a mouthful of pretzel, asks, “Why would they be jealous?”

“Metropolis got passed up to hold the All-Star game this summer. Which makes sense. They held it already a few years ago and Gotham’s never held it.”

“Sure.” Tim sips the absurdly large cup of Zesti, then offers you some. They were out of Soder, to your displeasure and his amusement. Still, you don’t say no, leaning over to wrap your mouth around the straw, your eyes still looking out at the field. With it being May, spring is in full-force and will soon be replaced with summer, though today, tendrils of it are already creeping in, humidity stifling you, along with the beaming heat of the sun. 

You’re in jean shorts and a Knights jersey, unbuttoned with a white camisole underneath, along with the Knights ballcap you bought last time, situated backwards over your hair. Finally, with a beat-up pair of Converse, you have a pair of black crew socks patterned with the Wonder Woman symbol. You are quite fond of her. All the Wonder ladies, really. Strong, beautiful women who can kick your ass to the moon and back — what more can anyone ask for? You’d said the same thing to Tim when he saw your socks and teased you about them. He found that very funny, though you aren’t totally sure why. 

The one in question is dressed in a maroon t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of surprisingly beat-up Vans, finished with the Gotham Knights cap you bought for him the last time you two were here. He wears his properly, though, unlike you, with the bill carefully hiding his face from any prying eyes. The air in the stadium is so charged with tension from the oncoming match, though, you doubt even if he took it off, no one would notice. 

“Bet you twenty the benches clear,” he says.

“That’s not even a question, Drake. Try better.”

“Alright… I say, the benches clear before the fourth inning.”

You squint thoughtfully, then nod. “I say after. You’re on.” 

The benches do clear after the fourth inning. But only in the ninth, both teams showing a, frankly, incredible amount of restraint despite the tense game that had them, shockingly enough, neck-and-neck. 

By the ninth inning, both teams were tied 4-4. But a grounder at the bottom of the inning allowed the player on third base to make it home, effectively breaking the tie. The stadium exploded into noise, the Knights themselves celebrating, too, and one thing led to another and then both teams were spilling onto the field, fists flying. 

Look, you aren’t saying the Monarchs are weaker because they’re from Metropolis. But the truth of the matter is, most of the Knights’ team is made up of Gotham natives and, well, this is Gotham. Can’t go around defenseless, not with the likes of the Joker, Scarecrow, Two-Face and more. More than that, you just think, in general, as being a team often at the bottom of the barrel… they must be holding in a lot of anger. 

And by the blood you two see, that anger is coming out full-force. Not at all helped by the tension among fans, who cheer on their teams, of course, but then…

Tim’s hand tightens around yours warily as a Monarchs and Knights fan start yelling at each other near you.

“I think,” he murmurs, lips near your ear in a way that has your heart stuttering, “we should go before we get our asses kicked.”

“You’re saying you wouldn’t protect me?”

“I don’t assume that you are a person who explicitly needs my protection. But if you ask…”

“Aw, no. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to your pretty face.” Fists start flying. You pull your legs in as someone drops a cup of beer, feeling droplets of it against your skin. “Yeah. I think we should go.”

The two of you leave posthaste, along with a decent amount of people also trying to avoid trouble. 

“So,” Tim starts when the two of you are in the safety of his car, blue eyes twinkling with something like mischief. “Pretty, huh?”

You refuse to be embarrassed. It’s, like, a fact of life. Everyone knows this. The sky is blue, the grass is green, Tim Drake is ridiculously pretty. So pretty he practically reinvents the word every time you see him. God, you like him so much. 

“Yeah,” you sniff, crossing your arms. “So gimme my twenty bucks, pretty boy.”

Tim grins and gives you your twenty bucks and the two of you get the hell out of there. 

(“So, like, would you… want to go to the All-Star game?” he tries to ask you nonchalantly later that night.

“Tim.”

“Maybe I want to go to the All-Star game.”

“You don’t even like baseball.”

He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, knowing you caught him out, so, he ends up going for the kind of honesty that makes your breath catch. 

“Well, you do, so.”

You watch TV for a minute, trying to settle the raging feelings inside you.

“Alright… I’ll let you buy us tickets to it if you let me buy tickets to the Knights kickoff game when the season starts.”

“But you don’t like football.”

You give him a look that says Hello? Are you stupid? Because so what? He just said it. You like baseball, so he tolerates it. He likes football — or, well, the Knights — so you’d tolerate it, too.

He doesn’t get that, you think.

That you’d do anything for him.

But he can’t, for obvious reasons.

So, you’ll just have to remind him. 

And he understands, too, laughing. “Alright. Deal.”

You think he agrees so easily because the football season doesn’t start until September and it’s only the middle of May. 

But little does he know, you will in fact be saving up money for the tickets and you will be hunting Reddit forums for tips on seating and ticket dealers, thank you very much.)

(Also, the Knights manage to win the next game, and you say manage, because a handful of them were suspended for fighting, along with a handful from the Monarchs; but you suppose that evens the playing field.

They lose the two after, but no one really cares. It’s nice to be able to win a game. And also a little bit nice to have seen the fight that unfolded between the two.)

The nice thing about teaching social studies is that the state of New Jersey does not require an assessment test for it. The only tests they require, starting from third grade to ninth grade, are for the English Language Arts, Math, and Science — the New Jersey Student Learning Assessments, otherwise shortened to NJSLA and colloquially known as the SLA’s.

The SLA’s are taken in the spring semester, in the second to last week of school in June. While your fellow teacher aides and teachers scramble to prepare reviews and ensure the students are ready, you and Ms. C can, for the most part, kick back and relax. Final grades are due next week but you two have them ready, so you don’t have to stress about it.

Still, it’s not all great as you feel the usual guilt that comes with watching teachers and students alike fret over the tests. It is collectively known that the standardized tests aren’t indicative of anything at all and Gotham Pointe is the kind of school that wanted to move away from measuring knowledge with tests, but they are state mandated and so, unavoidable.

To that end, you and Ms. C agree to not make class stressful for any of the kids in the lead-up to the tests and you think you succeed for the most part. You get roped into proctoring for the eighth graders, who scare you much more than the sixth graders, and you’re pretty sure they could tell, too, so that’s just great… It’s easy work anyhow, if not boring and procedural. 

But soon, the SLA’s are taken and done with and you are about to enter the final week of the semester. 

The weekend calls for highs in the eighties and the familiar cloak of humidity that will only get heavier as you approach the height of the summer. Gotham has brutal winters that dry out your lips terribly and unforgiving summers that make you sweat from every pore you have. 

But with it being only the first weekend of June and spare cloud cover that gives the occasional break from the sun, the weather is pleasant. Pleasant enough for you to decide to brave your allergies and convince Tim to have a picnic at Robinson Park. Cleaned up directly following the earthquake by Lex Luthor and then again recently by Wayne Enterprises, it has become a nice place in the city to visit. As nice as it can get in Gotham, anyway.

The park takes up a fairly sizable swath of central Gotham, east of the Upper East Side and south of Coventry. Not as far as Otisburg, where the Knights Stadium is, which is part of the northernmost area of the city. (Well, the northernmost area is probably, to be accurate, Bristol, the neighborhood where Gotham’s wealthiest reside, but you digress.)

You and Tim occupy a small, quiet area on the south side of the park. A large tree and perfectly-cut shrubs hide you from the prying eyes of others. 

The park is bursting with greenery, a breath of fresh air — literally and figuratively. The healthy trees and shrubs and freshly-cut grass remind you that New Jersey is technically known as ‘the Garden State.’ Hard to remember when you’re downtown Gotham, standing among towering skyscrapers, brightly-lit screens, and smoggy skies, but here, it is a nice reminder. 

You say this idly to Tim as you two eat an early dinner — caprese sandwiches he made, with lemonade brought back from the manor, courtesy of one Alfred Pennyworth, and the freshest strawberries you have ever had the pleasure of looking at and eating. 

He nods at your words, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Ever since No Man’s Land, the park’s thrived. Nothing ever dies.”

“That’s not ominous at all. And… what about No Man’s Land?”

No Man’s Land, the cataclysmic earthquake that struck Gotham City several years ago — like when you were fifteen or something — that caused the death of millions and displaced even more. Though, you might say that is because of the US government’s response. Instead of continuing to fund rescue efforts and help, they abandoned Gotham, turned it into No Man’s Land. No longer part of the United States and those who stayed also exiled. Of course, many didn’t exactly have a choice…

The city has since been rebuilt, with all buildings built stronger — earthquake proofed. When it happened, the only buildings left standing were the ones owned and built by WE because Bruce Wayne specifically called for them to be earthquake-proof. He was also the last to leave, the last to fight in front of Congress. If not for the philanthropic efforts he does around the city, then for that, you have real respect for him. 

Tim shrugs, sipping his lemonade. “Apparently, Poison Ivy camped out here for the entirety of it. She left eventually when the city opened again but since, the park’s been healthy. Even during winter.”

“Huh,” you say. The conclusion is obvious, then, that she might have something to do with it. Well. You’ve heard she’s leaned more morally grey these days. Still wanted by the police and all but… you don’t know. It’s a nice notion, to keep some of the only greenery in the city healthy no matter the season. 

You’ve never frequented Robinson Park before now — again, allergies — but Tim often looks too pale for your liking and now that he isn’t working at WE, you are more inclined to get him out of Rose Oaks. Even at the risk of a stuffy nose and watery eyes that’ll bother you tomorrow. 

You finish your sandwich and lemonade, help yourself to more than a few strawberries, which are a delicious mix of sweet and tangy, then lay down, sprawling out on the blanket. Well. Not totally sprawling out. The sundress you wear doesn't allow for that. Yeah, you are wearing spandex underneath but still. It’s the principle. No one is allowed to get an eyeful under your dress. Other than maybe Tim. Definitely Tim.

The thought makes your face warm and you shove it away, distracting yourself with grabbing a napkin and digging through your tote bag for your makeup bag. 

You dab at your mouth and open your compact mirror, checking for any food that might’ve caught on the darkly-tinted lip balm you’re wearing. Looks fine, though it’s faded towards the center from eating.

Tim sits upright next to you, his body twisted toward you and one hand planted on the blanket as he leans back on it. His eyes are elsewhere as he lifts a strawberry to his lips. Your eye twitches as he bites into it and some of the juice dribbles down his hand and nearly out the corner of his mouth — you say nearly because his tongue darts out, catching the droplets before they can fall, and you’re pretty sure a meteor could hit Gotham right now and you would absolutely be none the wiser.

Doesn’t help when he lifts his hand to his mouth, either, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he catches the trails of strawberry juice. Pink lips move, shaping words, but you don’t notice, because this has to be a new circle of hell or something, you don’t give a shit what Dante thinks, this is the worst. 

With concerted effort, you turn your eyes to your compact mirror and dig for your lip balm. 

Forgetting that he had said something while you were staring at him and wondering why god was so cruel, you jump when his jean-clad knee brushes the outside of your thigh, the texture rough against the softer skin there. 

“Wh-huh?”

You look at him and he’s finally looking at you, the sunlight doing too much for him in the way it sets off his pale skin and his dark hair, his eyes a softer shade of blue than you’ve ever seen, like the sky in Metropolis, considerably less smoggy than Gotham’s. He’s cleaning his hands with a wet wipe — yes, he seriously brought wet wipes because he said ‘eating fruit is serious business’ — lips quirked as he gazes down at you.

“Did you hear me?”

“No. What did you say?”

“I said, do you know what that tree is?” he asks, nodding to the tree next to you, tall in height with faintly yellowed leaves.

You squint. “Should I…?”

“I guess not,” he says. “You’re more into social studies than science.”

You’re also not him, brain stuffed full with the oddest of facts. 

No one is like him. But this is thought with a ridiculous amount of fondness, as par the course. There is little he does that annoys you and info-dumping about some odd thing that grabbed his attention is not one of those things.

“So, you know, then?” you ask, lifting the lip balm to your mouth and reapplying it, a tad distracted as you keep an ear out for him.

“It's shagbark hickory. Carya ovata. Look at the trunk.”

You look at the tree trunk. 

“See how the bark is peeling and a little weird? That’s how you can tell.” 

“Kinda creepy, isn’t it?”

He exhales a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

You turn your head, eyes scanning for another tree. You spot one some distance away, a pretty thing with white flowers blooming on the branches, reminding you vaguely of a cherry blossom.

“What about that one?” 

Silence meets your words. Your eyes flicker from the tree back to him. “Tim?”

Instead of looking at the tree you pointed out, he is looking at you. Not just at your face but your —

“Sorry,” he says quietly, lifting a hand to you. “You just have some lip balm right here…”

Just as he finishes speaking, his thumb slowly swipes the underside of your mouth, the slightly calloused pad of his thumb just barely catching the actual skin of your lips in a way that sparks a fire inside of you. 

There is no way for you to save face, you think dimly, and you know that to be utterly true as your eyes then find his thumb as he pulls back. On the pale skin, the smudge of your darkly-tinted lip balm stands out. 

You meet his eyes again in the next second and they seem a shade darker, more like the blue waters of Metropolis Harbor instead of their clear skies. It’s more than that, though, it’s the look in them, the weight of his gaze, like a physical thing, burning straight through you, and the urge to be close to him, to press your lips to his, is monumental, practically religious, like even that wouldn’t be enough, like the only way you might be satisfied is if you two were one, cells and atoms intermingling.

You want so much.

Too much that you can have.

The shriek of laughter from a child shatters the moment and he looks away quickly. Your heart pounds out of your chest, face unbearably hot. For him, too, red rises high in his cheeks, not doing anything to detract from your attraction. Exacerbating it, if anything. 

You raise your eyes to the sky, closing your eyes, trying to calm yourself.

Next to you, Tim clears his throat and suddenly flops down beside you with a grunt, arm brushing yours.

“White flowering dogwood.”

“Huh?” you ask, eyes opening as you glance at him. He’s looking up at the sky, allowing you a view of his sharp jawline, the slope of his nose, and the press of his full, pink lips. God…

“The tree,” he says, voice a little rough. “The one you asked about. It’s white flowering dogwood. Cornus florida. It can be pink, too, but, well, as you can tell, that one is white.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah.”

You loathe the slight awkwardness that falls over you in that following silence. He seems to dislike it as well as he clears his throat. 

“You were right about this,” he says, voice back to normal, soft, soothing tenor, music to your ears. “It’s nice.”

“A little vitamin C does wonders for the mood. And complexion.” You pause. “Your complexion, to be clear —”

“Alright, alright,” he says, faintly amused. “I get it. I’m pale.”

The silence that unfolds in that next moment is considerably lighter, more comfortable. You force yourself to relax, crossing your ankles idly. 

“Any plans for the summer?” he asks after a couple minutes.

“Hmm, no, not really. Probably pick up a few more classes. Might visit my family.”

In the corner of your eye, he nods. “If you get any more of those offers to bring someone, count me in.”

“Yeah?” 

“Well…” he trails off and you turn your head as he moves, a hand digging through his bag. The sound of something crinkling, before he pulls out an object wrapped in wrapping paper, the same kind you use in class for finished products, that way they don’t break.

A grin pulls sharply at your lips as you take it from him. 

“It didn’t turn out so bad,” he says, a smile in his voice, though your eyes are on the mug, which you eagerly unwrap. 

You can’t help your gasp. “Tim…”

The mug the two of you shaped is no longer dull grey clay, soft and malleable, but hard and durable; you still hold it gingerly, smoothing your thumb over the now-smooth surface. Underlaid by a soft shade of blue, the mug is iridescent, glimmering green, blue, yellow, purple, and many more colors, almost like the surface of the water.

“I had to get some help,” he admits. “But I got the hang of it eventually. Despite this little… imperfection —” he reaches out to brush a finger over the lip of the mug, where it’s a bit wonky “— I think it turned out nice.”

“Told you,” you say, your matter-of-fact words belied by the soft wonder in your expression. “Perfection is a false ideal. And boring. This is beautiful, Timmy. Seriously. Thank you.”

“‘Course,” he says softly, a kind of warmth in his voice that makes your heart skip a beat.  

You look at the mug a little longer, taken at how it shines under the sun, then wrap it up again, passing it back to him. He puts it away. 

Warmed at the thought he put into the mug, you two sink into a truly comfortable silence, broken by the laughter of children nearby, the distant and usual wail of sirens, and the chirp of birds.

He hums thoughtfully. 

“What?”

“The birds.”

“Let me guess, you’re an expert in birds, too?” 

“Something like that,” he says softly. “Listen.”

“I’m listening.”

Multiple birds chirp in that following silence. Quick, repetitive.

You scrunch your face up. “Pretty sure I’ve heard this one, like, every morning.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Downy Woodpecker. Very common.”

You hum in acknowledgment, able to pick it out now that he’s put a name to it. The two of you lapse into silence again, a concentrated sort of energy coming from him as he focuses on something.

“Ah,” he murmurs, as another call joins. “Now this is a treat…”

“Share, share.”

“Any guesses?”

“Pigeon.”

He exhales a laugh. “Not even close.”

“Social studies. Not science. Or whatever that area could be classified as. Zoology?”

“Ornithology,” he says, because of course he knows the correct name, his arm brushing yours as he drops it to his side, like yours is. Fingers brush yours. You don’t pull away, allowing your pinky to skim his before his fingers slide against yours, filling the gaps. Your heart stutters as you let yourself bask in the contact, then attempt to focus on the bird call that just joined the Woodpeckers.

It’s not as repetitive or quick as the other one, calmer, in a sense.

“What is it?” you ask, voice unknowingly dropping into a whisper. 

Tim’s voice is just as low when he next speaks. “American Robin. Relatively common, too.”

His thumb rubs over your fingers right after, making your chest tighten with warmth, so all you can do is pinpoint the call of the Robin, that clear string of whistles the only sound in the silence. 

He is quiet for some time after, the both of you listening to the Robins and Woodpeckers sing. But eventually, he picks it up again, easily singling out bird calls and putting names to them.

You two spend several hours there, mostly dozing, but towards seven, you find yourself filled with perhaps too much sun and warmth, so he suggests something cold. You pack up and drop your things off in his car — you grimace at the grass clinging to the blanket and the way the blades of it catch on the material in the trunk but Tim waves a hand at it, unbothered, saying it’s not an issue. For him, with the ability to easily afford car washes and interior cleanings, you believe it. 

He pops by a Wawa’s to gas up while you search for nearby frozen treats but you get distracted by the attendant in the neon vest that quickly comes over to gas up the car. 

“This is why I could never get a car,” you say, watching the attendant punch the premium grade — at Tim’s request — then pull out the nozzle. “We didn’t have this so sometimes my parents made me fill up the car and I hated it. Something about it just makes me nervous. Like I know I’m pressing it for gasoline but I’m like… What if it did a little switchy-switchy and now I’m filling the tank with diesel and now it’s ruined and my dad’s going to kill me.”

Tim looks fondly amused. “So, shouldn’t the act of someone else doing it for you help?”

“No. Not even a little bit. Because yeah, I am nervous, but at least it’s me. We all grow up with different ways of doing this and I dunno. Besides,” you say, craning your neck to watch the attendant stand idly by the gas pump, numbers ticking rapidly as the tank fills up; the price makes you grimace. “This kind of feels like a safety risk, at least here in Gotham. What if they put in diesel?”

“Well, the good thing about that is they’re liable for it. So, I would think that makes it easier.”

You grunt. “I guess. I just think it’s a tricky thing, okay.”

He shakes his head, smiling. “Have you found anything?”

“Just some fro-yo places.”

“Fro-yo’s cold.”

“Yeah, but it’s fro-yo. I don’t want discount diet ice cream, I want ice cream. The whole concept of fro-yo is questionable.”

Tim laughs. “Who knew you had such strong opinions on New Jersey’s self-servicing laws and frozen yogurt?”

You flush, because despite the tease, he looks fond, and that’s too much for you after everything today, so you grumble a little bit and turn your eyes back to your phone.

The two of you end up at an ice cream parlor in the Upper East Side. Tim gets mint chocolate chip ice cream, much to your horror. 

“That’s basically toothpaste. You might as well brush your teeth then eat some chocolate.”

“Okay, drama queen. Relax. Maybe if you tried some —” the red spoon waves under your nose as he gets in close and you turn your head, bracing a hand on his chest, though you aren’t trying that hard to push him away. You find yourself noting the muscle there, something you’ve noticed since the two of you slept together on the couch. Tim has a lithe frame but there is no shortage of power, evidenced in the way he can easily carry a large pack of water bottles without losing breath. You can carry it, but even you have your limits for how long, limits he easily surpasses, you suspect.

The car doors unlock as you near it, parallel parked perfectly (and he made it look easy, too, though you won’t give him much credit on the driving front since he’s a little too much for you) in front of the ice cream parlor. Tim had asked if you’d ever driven the scenic route up in Bristol, to which you responded of course you hadn’t. That’s all the way north of the city, off the interconnected islands entirely. Much too far for you, at least with your bike. So, he matter-of-factly said that’s what you two were going to do and maybe if you stuck around long enough, you could see the sunset from there. It sounds awfully romantic but you try not to think about that.

Instead, you redouble your efforts on teasing him as the two of you pause by the car.

“Bleh. I’m not going to ruin my taste buds with that. You should try this.” You scoop out some of your ice cream, lifting it to him. 

“Chocolate chip cookie dough. Revolutionary. You’re really breaking barriers there.”

“It’s classic, Timothy. Do you deny that?”

“Have you even tried mint chocolate chip?” he shoots back, spoon still proffered. “Instead of, you know, jumping on the hating bandwagon.”

“Wow.”

He grins, stepping closer, wiggling the spoon at you. “Try it.”

And the mistake here, of course, is thinking that you have it in you to deny him. At least for something as unserious as this. 

And he can see the moment you give in, grin turning victorious as he lifts the spoon and you, with your face flaring with heat at the action, only just barely realizing it, have no choice but to take it. 

But the sharp minty flavoring combined with the sweetness of the chocolate chips saves it — you — from getting too weird.

Tim laughs, delighted, as you swallow it, face scrunched up in disgust. 

“I almost feel like you picked that one to torment me.”

“Tormenting you is fun,” he agrees, before dropping his spoon back into his cup, then taking your wrist, hand still holding the forgotten spoonful of ice cream, and guiding it to his mouth.

“You don’t deserve the goodness of my ice cream,” you say, forcing a scowl and a light-hearted glare in a desperate attempt to control the tidal wave of fizzling heat that envelops your insides at him doing that. Mostly his gall. Seriously what is up with him…

It seems to work as he releases your wrist, red spoon cleaned from his mouth — that’s going to haunt you while you eat — and he laughs again. 

You punch his chest lightly, grumbling, then go around him, checking the street for any oncoming cars before going to the passenger door. 

Tim slides in a second later, still chuckling as he turns on the car and leaves his cup of ice cream in the cupholder. You bluster about it for a little but eventually agree to help feed him some of it, since the drive might take a while. Along with that, he lets you commandeer his phone and the music, naturally turning on ABBA as he pulls out and starts for the Sprang Bridge that’ll take you to the northernmost island, with Otisburg and the Knights Stadium in the east and Burnley and Park Row to the west. Continuing north, you hit the Kane Bridge that’ll take you off the islands entirely.

Take A Chance On Me plays on the speakers as you dutifully spoon the last bits of Tim’s ice cream into his mouth, then set the cup aside. Traffic slows you down but you don’t mind. You’ve never actually crossed this bridge, you think, in your entire time here. To the east is Amusement Mile and Gotham River, while west shows the rest of the Atlantic, dark waters stretching out into oblivion.

Tim hums the song idly, barely sparing a glance over his shoulder as he moves into the left lane that is going faster than the one you are currently in. Even with his admittedly reckless and impatient driving skills, you are nothing less than smitten as he taps the rhythm to the song on the steering wheel. 

Hiding a smile, you finish your own ice cream and get comfortable. 

It takes a while to finally get off the bridge and onto the two-lane road for Bristol. Considerably higher in elevation, it affords you exactly what he said — a scenic route of Gotham, overlooking the entire island. Even Metropolis, off in the distance. The sun is starting to set, too, washing everything in gold. 

At that, he pulls off the main road to a small gravel-filled area with no other cars and a single path that leads through the woods. 

“I guess this is the time you’re going to finally murder me and dispose of my body?”

“Naturally. But only after we watch the sunset on Spillkin Hill,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt and turning off the car.

“Ah, of course, of course.”

The trail leads to a grassy hill that overlooks the city. Tim brings out the blanket again and you collapse there, a little sweaty and a little out of breath. He offers you a drink from his water bottle, which you gladly accept. 

From here, you can see everything. The Kane Bridge, with bumper-to-bumper traffic, Amusement Mile, rollercoasters arching high into the sky, Knights Stadium, sun glinting off the metal, floodlights on and bright. Up here, away from the true reality of what goes on in the dark, the city looks beautiful washed in the golden light of the sunset.

So does Tim, you think, breath catching in your throat as a breeze ruffles his dark hair and your fingers twitch to run through it, to put it back into order. His skin glows under the light, thick lashes casting shadows over the swell of his cheeks, cornflower blue eyes softened in a way that makes you want to lean in. 

You don’t.

Instead, you look back out, biting at the inside of your cheek. 

You had thought and hoped that your feelings might be short-lived, just a crush, just an infatuation, but what you are learning, since the day you two went to the rec center, since he spent the night, is that it will not be that simple. These feelings, you think, are the kind that stick with you, the ones that will make themselves known every time you spy a flowering dogwood or hear the call of a Robin. 

But that’s fine. Tim has brightened your world, made it that much warmer. You just want him, in any capacity that you can have him.

Even with his odd behavior today and from the last few weeks, behavior that has you second-guessing… Hope is a dangerous thing to have in Gotham City, after all.

But who are you kidding, right? That’s half the reason you stay here. 

And maybe, just maybe, it can finally pay off here.

You’ll have to wait and see. 

━ end notes

1. the stuff about the state tests for NJ — i did search that stuff up, however, the SLA stuff i just made up bc i like acronyms. so :D also! new jersey and oregon are in fact the only states in the us with self-service laws still in place, so basically, you cannot fill up your own gas. i always have a chuckle when i remember that LMAO

2. about the poison ivy thing, i just thought that would be some Fun Gotham Lore. i also don’t know if others would know, exactly, that she was inhabiting it during no man’s land because during that event, it was all hush-hush and mostly rumors, but afterward, there had to be more talk about it, especially when the kids she was taking care of were turned over to officials, you know?

3. here’s a website where you can listen to the calls of both the downy woodpecker and the robin mentioned here!

reblogs are appreciated!