#*exaggerated pointing* LUKE. LUKE SAME SHIRT

[bisaster-energy]

i haven't done one of these in forever thx nem mwah 💕

Tagging: @thepondstogether @dollopheadsandclotpoles @chaoticeddie @buffyboyfriend @dreamyicarus-png and literally whoever else!!

Hey guys! I wanna do a create yourself picrew chain with my favourite picrew :) tag 5 people (or more. or less im not your mom) once ur done.

here’s mine :))

tagging: @a-dotrivenitupontop​, @c4i-r0​, @xxriotgrrrlb0yxx​, @clumpofglitter​, @tennis-spawn​, @0beetle-legs0​ and literally anyone else who wants to do it

[bornagainmurdock]

to pay the price

author's note: brat tamer matt is insatiable and i'm losing my mind

contents: 18+ ONLY, smut, matt murdock x reader, gender neutral reader, bratty!reader & masochist!reader, impact play, spanking, choking, face slapping, check-in, use of 'pup' & 'pet,' degradation

work count: 1.4k

Matt had had enough of your brattiness. From pouncing on him this morning to wake him up, rearranging the bathroom making it take him 20 extra minutes getting ready, and hiding his left shoe, he had enough.

Matt had attempted to correct you with each bratty decision you made. He was gentle and kind until right now. You had just gotten home from work, and jumped right back into the bratty act: offering to bring him an iced cold glass of tea, but instead bringing him a glass of luke warm water.

You passed him the glass, Matt already able to tell by the temperature of the glass in his hand. He took a sip. His special look of dissappointment spread across his face and then contorted to a bit of anger. Out of everything you could have done, this was the final straw.

"Sit. Now." Matt pointed at the ground in front of him, unwavering.

"No." You stood where you were, rocking back and forth on your feet. You knew you were pushing it. You knew you had pushed it when you brought him the water instead of tea, but you didn't expect that to be the straw that broke the camel's back.

"I'm not asking. I'm telling. Sit." Matt's posture was perfect, his back not touching the back of the couch, arms at his side now and stiff.

You didn't move.

"I'm going to give you one more chance to listen. I've had enough of your bratty attitude today." Matt's body language remained the same: still, composed, and ready to pounce.

It's not like you were bad. You liked listening to Matt. Being Matt's sweet good pup. But perhaps you liked bratting a bit more, at least today you did. Pushing Matt to his limit. Sometimes you chose to psychoanalyze why you were bratty. The answer always being wanting more attention. Today, this time, it was for the rush, you thought.

Matt taking control of you, forcing you to submit under him. Being so fed up with your attitude that he pins you in place and has his way with you until you couldn't take anymore. Maybe you did want attention. No matter, you were already commited to the bit.

"Now, pet." He lifted his hands to his tie, loosening it around his neck, pulling at his collar and then undoing the first two buttons of his dress shirt.

You walked to sit at his feet.

He leaned over your body, your eyes looking up at him. "Good. Now, I think you need to be taug—"

You interrupt by taking his glasses off his face and putting them on your own.

"I'm Matt Murdock. I go to my job and do law. I know the DA. I am cool and hot and everyones in love with me." Your impression was vibrant. Your arms thrown around you to exaggerate your speech.

"That's it." Matt was slow to stand up. He hoovered aboce you still, focus on your body there under him. Matt reached towards your face, you expected to be slapped, or have your hair pulled, but all he did was take his glasses off your face and set them on the arm of the couch.

It was peaceful for a second, until Matt stretched his fingers over your hips, lifting you, and throwing you over his shoulder with a slap to your ass.

"Hmph." You struggled to escape his grip on you, kicking and pulling at his clothes to get some leverage.

He spanked you again and again until you where flinching and gasping with each hint.

"What a dumb bratty pup, hmm? Don't know how to behave. Especially when I've been so kind and gentle with you all day, guiding you to make better decisions, here we are." His voice was even and paced.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I didn't mean it." Your words slurred together through tears, Matt still landing hit after his on your ass.

He eventually made his way to the bedroom, throwing you on top of the conforter and crawling over your body until you were face to face.

"I gave you dozens of chances to be good. Apologize all you want, you deserve what's coming."

You slammed your eyes shut, unable to handle the intensity of Matt above you, entire focus on you and the way you were reacting to his words.

He leaned in closer, and you turned your head to look away, cheek flat against the bed.

Matt gripped your chin with force, realigning your face with his.

"You look at me. Your eyes stay here," he gestured towards his face, "And they do not move or you're going to regret it, you understand?"

You remained in that position for a few seconds before testing your luck again, turning to the opposite side.

Matt's hand snaked around your throat this time, pulsing at the sides with his finger tips. It was dizzying in the best way possible.

"What did I say, brat?"

"Look at you." You were coy, faking a sense of innocence.

"And what did you do?" He was spitting at the consonates with vigor.

"Looked away."

"When are you gonna learn your lesson?" His body was suddenly gone, across on the other side of the room. Matt's breathing still steady.

"I don't know. When are you gonna teach it to me?" You spat in response. It was daring, but abbsolutely worth it after what would come next.

Matt dropped whatever was in his hands onto the floor, when you attempted to look, Matt was above you again holding your chin in his direction.

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, making you wait for it. His own special brand of torture: testing your patience.

And then, when Matt himself couldn't wait any longer. fireworks. His palm contacted your cheek, burning a handprint into your skin there. The pain flushing your face, sending chills down your spin. Glorious. Magnificent. Truly a reward for a brat like you.

He was panting, hand coming down again at your face, reinforcing the bruise that would be formed by tomorrow. He knew his power, how much force to put in for you to enjoy.

"So fucking naughty for me," each thought was articulated with a slap, "My messy brat just wanted attention, hmm? Desparate and pathetic. So needy you couldn't control yourself."

You were breathless, trying to catch up with your lungs and choking on your own spit drowning your lungs. Eyes rolled back and shivering under lids. Almost unreponsive. Your heartrate soared, and Matt coule hear it beat inconsistently, and without any real drive. It was intoxicating, just like the whimpers you spoke into existence every once in a while.

"Fucking pathetic brat." He moved his hand back down to choke you, forcing a whine from you when he finally his the right spot on your neck. "Haven't even kissed you yet and you're already this messy for me."

You were gone and lost in your own head, Matt's name on repeat in your brain but never leaving your mouth. You opened your lips to speak and lost the words.

"Pet? Have anything to say for yourself?" Matt could be brutal and he knew it. He also knew you liked when he was rough with you, physically and verbally.

He also knew that sometimes it was too much, so when you didn't respond a bit of fear entered his radar. He removed his hands from your body and instead listened for your heart and your breathing to pick back up to a regular tempo.

"Hey," His tone was clear and gentle now, careful with each letter, "Color?"

Matt waited patiently. He lowered his body just enough to put some grounding weight onto you, something concrete to cling onto to focus outside of the scene.

It took a minute before the world reappeared around you. Too lost in space when he asked originally.

When you started blinking again, Matt repeated, "Color?"

"Green. Please hit me again."

He waited until you looked more alive before raising his hand to slap your face again.

"Fuck Matt." You whimpered, Matt holding his hand to your cheek to feel the heat radiate off you.

"Think you've learned your lesson now?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

You giggled, "I'm not sure, could probably use some reinforcement."

[jerzwriter]

First Date

Based on this ask from @lexicook74-blog, Trystan takes Carolina out on an official first date now that they are out in the open. This is pure, unadulterated fluff with a twist of sarcasm that makes them... them. I hope you enjoy it! 💗

Book: Crimes of Passion (Post Book 2) Pairing: M!Trystan Thorne x F!MC (Carolina Rose) Category: Fluff (with a twist of NY) Words: 2,495 A/N: @choicesoctober - Celebration - because an official first date for these two is something to celebrate! Also, @choicesprompts Flufftober - First Date

It was difficult to tell who was most excited to be back. Carolina had always known she was a New Yorker through and through, but her time in Drakovia had solidified that commitment. Now, she even loved the things she hated about her hometown. Although, she was pretty confident her romanticization of smelly trash bins and subway rats had just about run its course. For Trystan, it felt like a dream he never dared to believe had come true. No longer in exile, no longer forced to live a life his birth alone decreed. For the first time in his life, he knew freedom, and it couldn’t be any sweeter.  

But their return to the Big Apple wasn’t all fun and games. Mafalda wasn’t exaggerating about the amount of work awaiting them back at the agency. But they were eager to get back to it, working long days that often drifted into the night, which is where they were now.

The clock struck eight, and the sun’s few remaining rays washed the office in a soft, amber glow. Trystan placed another cup of coffee in front of Carolina, and she rewarded him with a tender smile before quickly returning to her work. He picked up a folder to do the same. But, when his cup of java did nothing to help his exhaustion, he leaned back for a quick break, studying his favorite subject as he did... his precious Carolina.

Love was an amazing thing. There she was with her hair in a messy bun, raccoon-like dark circles under her eyes, and while a coffee-stained shirt was the norm for Detective Rose, today, it was paired with a little spaghetti sauce from dinner. Still, as Trystan took her in, he was sure he had never seen anything more beautiful. Carolina glanced up and caught him staring. If she weren't so tired, she would have something witty to say, but sticking her tongue out at him would need to suffice. Pleased that she was being more immature than him for once, Trystan let out a chuckle. This was worthy of marking on the calendar, but so was something else on his mind.

“Today is Thursday, is it not?” He asked.

Carolina thought so but looked at her phone for good measure.

“Thursday it is,” she smiled. “The days seem to be melting into one another, don’t they?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We need to do something about that.”

“What do you suggest?” she asked as she closed her notebook. “Quitting the agency?”

“Of course not! But even Mafalda said we’ve been overdoing it since we returned. So I declare this weekend a work-free zone. Besides, we have plans.”

“We do?” She asked with a scrunched nose. 

“We do now,” he smiled. “We have never been on a proper date, and it's time we change that.”

“Trystan,” she rolled her eyes. “We’ve gone out plenty of times.”

“Gone out? Yes. But a proper date? No.”

“What do you call all the times we’ve gone out to eat?"

“Obtaining sustenance.”

“And when we went to the Yankee Game?”

“The game we attended with Luke and Ruby? Where I had to whisk you away to a private area just to kiss you?”

“Only for the kiss cam to snag us,” she laughed.

“Exactly! Had it been an official date, and the kiss cam had caught us... I would have given them quite a show.”

“You make a point,” she concurred.

“I make lots of them, Carolina,” he smirked. “If only you paid more attention.”

He quickly dodged the rubber band ball she threw his way.

“Maybe we should go to another Yankee game,” she laughed. “Clearly, my pitching isn’t what it should be.”

“I’m sure sure more Yankee games in our future,” he smiled. “But this time, allow me to spoil you... I can’t think of anyone more deserving.”

“Babe... I’m a girl from the Bronx; a Yankee game is spoiling me.”

“Understood, but can I please spoil you Drakovian royalty style for just one night.”

Carolina tapped her chin. “Drakovian royalty style. Hmmm. I suppose I'm willing as long as it doesn’t involve poisoning or knife fights.”

“I promise to leave those parts out,” he laughed. “Though a little wrestling at the end might be in order.”

“I wouldn’t object to that,” she laughed.

“Then that settles it! Saturday night... we have a date.”

~~~~

Trystan didn’t give away any details, only telling Carolina to wear something fancy and to be ready at six. Normally calm and collected, finding the perfect outfit was sending Carolina into a tizzy. Fortunately, Ruby was available for shopping and to help keep her friend grounded.

“You’re already his girlfriend,” Ruby laughed as her friend tried on her umpteenth dress. “You don’t need to put this much pressure on yourself.”

Carolina’s head popped over the dressing room door. “Yes, I do. It’s our first official date, and I want it to be... perfect. Besides, I’ve never gone out with anyone routinely followed by the paparazzi. If I end up on Page Six, I want to be killing it!”

“Killing it might be the wrong choice of words, considering it’s you two we’re talking about. And I’m sure you’ll look more spectacular than any of those snobby socialites on Page Six. Carolina... take a deep breath and just enjoy this.”

Across town, Trystan wasn’t faring much better. Luke was unwillingly getting play-by-play details as Trystan finalized plans.  

“So what do you think?” he finally asked. 

“What do I think?” Luke scowled. “I think this is the most bourgeoisie itinerary I’ve ever heard of.”

“Is it wrong for me to spoil the woman I love occasionally?”

“I suppose not,” Luke resigned with a sigh. “As long as you don’t do it too often. Otherwise, I may have to reconsider being seen with you in public. You’re already bad for my rep.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve heard that, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.” Trystan laughed. “But as long as Carolina is happy to be seen with me, that’s all I need.”

Luke shook his head mockingly. “You know, I would have never imagined you as a love-sick puppy when we met.”

“Funny, I never saw you that way either... then you fell for Ruby. Should we discuss that?”

Luke cleared his throat and returned his eyes to his laptop. “Why would we discuss that when I have to help you plan your date.”

“Sneaky way out... but at least I’ve got you where I want you,” Trystan winked. “Now, put your work away. You can come to help me select Carolina’s flowers.”

“Flowers?” Luke groaned.

“Yes. And after my date, I should probably help you plan a date for Ruby. Obviously, you need my help.”

“I may just take you up on that,” Luke grinned.

~~~~~

Saturday rolled around quickly, and Tommy did a double take when a tuxedo bedecked Trystan stepped out of a limousine in front of his bar, turning all heads his way. Even in a city used to sophistication and excess, Trystan had a way of commanding everyone’s attention.

Carolina’s uncle shook his head with a grin as Trystan approached the bar, a dazzling bouquet of cream-colored roses in his arms.

“You know, my niece likes the simpler things in life,” he teased.

“Obviously!” Trystan scoffed. “She’s in love with me, after all.”

“You might be many things, Trystan, but I’m confident simple isn’t one of them.”

“You can say that again,” Carolina replied from the top of the stairs.

Trystan took one look at her, and his jaw went slack, the flowers in his hand falling to his side. Carolina’s smile grew exponentially as she descended the steps in a stunning, barely there champagne lace slip dress that hugged her every curve. Flirtatiously draping the fringe shawl the saleswoman swore would complete her look over her shoulder, she sauntered to Trystan with a wink.

“So, you like then?”

 “Like...” he gasped, unable to come up with any words.

“Are you sure it’s not too much? I don’t really go on fancy-ass dates like this often.”

“Carolina... you are perfection...” he marveled. “Too much? Too much for whom? I assure you, I can more than handle this.”

“All right, you two!” Tommy barked. “I know you’re consenting adults, but can you please save that part of your date until you’re not standing in front of me in my bar!”

“Of course, Tio,” Carolina laughed, her eyes lighting up when Trystan handed her the bouquet. “What are these for?”

“They’re roses for the most beautiful Rose of all.”

A blush rose to her cheeks as her eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Do these lines work on most people?”

“I got you, didn’t I?” he smiled, then offered her his arm. “Now, let’s go, your chariot awaits.”

~~~~~

 A half-hour later, they were at Per Se, sitting at one of the finest tables in the house with a million-dollar view of Central Park West. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t opt for a private dining room,” Trystan said, pulling back Carolina’s chair. “But now that I can finally show you off, I want to ensure everyone can see us.”

“I don’t know,” she snickered. “I usually demand the private dining areas when on a date. All of the finest pizza joints in town have them. Of course, they’re usually reserved for kid's birthday parties, but still....”

“Yes, well, I’ll see if I can arrange for a balloon sculpture later on.”

“That would be perfect! Just skip the clowns!” she beamed as she perused the menu. “Now, tell me, do I have to eat fish eggs or snails here?”  

“Not unless you want to.”

“Yeah, hard pass.”

“Don’t knock it, Carolina. You’ll never know if you’ll like something unless you try it.”

“Hey, don’t act like I never leave my comfort zone. I did allow myself to fall for a cocky, exiled would-be-king, after all.”

“And how did that work out for you?” he asked smugly as the waiter approached.   

Carolina greeted the server with a wide grin, then shot Trystan a look. “I suppose I could start with the escargot... I just hope I don’t live to regret it.”

After dinner, the couple briefly strolled around Central Park, his arm slung casually around her shoulder. “So, you didn’t hate the snails,” he teased.

“I suppose if I were starving to death, and that was my only option, I wouldn’t turn them down,” she chuckled. “Now, the lobster tails, on the other hand...I’d never say no to them. But why did you tell me not to order dessert? And please... don’t be cheesy and tell me you’re dessert.”

“You underestimate me,” he laughed. “Dessert will be cheesy, but it’s not me... at least not yet. But first, we have to go to the heliport.”

“The Heliport? Why? Where are we going?”

“Downtown,” he answered with nonchalance.

“Downtown? You are aware the limo could take us there.”

“Of course,” he grinned. “But the traffic is woeful. Besides, I know you know this city like the palm of your hand, but you’ve never seen it this way. It’s breathtaking, and while I’ve seen it from the sky before, I simply have to experience it with you.”

“And why is that?”

He smiled like an impish schoolboy and merely told her she’d see, but once they were in the air, she understood.

“Oh my God, look at it!” she gushed.

Her city looked quite different from ten thousand feet above. Each one of its millions of lights twinkled like little stars that looked close enough to touch. She couldn’t turn her head away. But the only view Trystan was interested in was her; he was confident it was the most beautiful of all. He gently took her hand and held it for the remainder of the flight, peppering her hair with little kisses for good measure. Carolina closed her eyes only once, just long enough to take a deep breath and remind herself that this wasn’t a dream.

Back on solid ground, she still felt like she was walking on air. Enthusiastic as a child, she practically skipped through Greenwich Village, never letting go of her prince charming’s hand. 

“And did you see when we turned by the Brooklyn Bridge!” She beamed. “ I thought I would scream. It was so amazing! And the lights... there were so many lights! Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”

Trystan tugged her hand, stopping her in her tracks. His eyes locked on hers as he brushed a tendril of hair away from her moonlit face, his thumb trailing across her lower lip.

 “I assure you, I have.”

Carolina lifted herself up on her toes as their lips came together; her arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands found their way to her hips... the night just kept getting better.

“So, you don’t mind being spoiled?” he joked.

“Hmmm. On occasion. This has been magical, but then again... it’s always magical when I’m with you, and I don’t need all the extras to make it so.”

“Then you’ll love dessert,” he assured as they stepped in front of Veniero’s. “Nothing fancy at all.”

“You know about Veniero’s?” Carolina asked, duly impressed.

“Please. Do you take me for a Neanderthal?”

“No, just Drakovian,” she smirked. “Did you know they have the best cannolis in the city?”

“Yes, and I know how much you love a good cannoli.”

“I feel like there’s an inappropriate joke in there,” she giggled as he opened the door. 

“There is,” he agreed. “But we’ll save that for later.”

They ended the night sitting on a blanket underneath an old tree in Washington Square Park. Street musicians played nearby but couldn’t drown out the stream of little pleasure-filled sounds that escaped Carolina’s beautiful lips.

“If anyone were to hear you, they wouldn’t think a cannoli was the causation,” Trystan smiled.

“Please, this is Washington Square Park... no one is going to judge my cannoli kink.”  She snuggled up next to him and held him tight. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way...” she started, as a look of worry crossed his face.

“What is it?”

“Everything about tonight has been just perfect... the limo, the fancy restaurant, the helicopter ride... you really had me feeling like a princess.”

“But?”

“But just being here with you, kissing, snuggling, and watching people go by....”

“My luscious cannoli....”

“The cannoli from Vaniero’s,” she laughed. “There’s nothing better than this.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he replied, wiping a bit of cannoli cream from her lip. He pulled her close for a lingering kiss. 

“So, since this first date went so well,” she started. “Can we have an official second date? Next Saturday?”

“I’d be delighted,” he grinned. “What would you like to do?”

“Oh, no! I’m planning this one. Now I have to spoil you... Bronx style.”

@choicesficwriterscreations

Tagging others on reblog

[violetnotez]

I just read your headcanons about treating Mirio,shouto and bakugou's hounds and it was soooo cuuuute kafkksfbksgkbs I wonder if you can do the same headcanons for Izuko, Hitoshi and maybe Tokoyami? OwO ♡♡♡♡♡

Hey bb! So unfortunately I don’t write for Tokoyami 👉🏼👈🏼 but I totally got ya on Izuku and Shinso! ❤️

Original post

Music Collection | Tip Jar | Requests!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ ✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Izuku

Please be aware you will have to be this dude’s nurse 24/7

He is just always getting hurt

No matter what, he can promise you as much as he wants that he won’t get hurt or he’ll try his best to be safe...

Lmao that doesn’t happen

You don’t know how many times you’ll be hanging out with him, and you’ll notice he has a limp he won’t tell you about

Or he’ll be at your door, covered in scraps and trying to convince you “it’s nothing, really!”

You and Recovery Girl are like besties at this point

Worst part is unless he’s like at deaths door he REFUSES to act like it’s a big thing

Like “oh my fingers are purple and look like burnt chicken-it’s chill”

NO SIR IT IS NOT FUCKING CHILL

He takes pain like a champ tho, like he will grimace here and there but he’ll never do anything but that

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

“Izuku-for the love of-“ you huffed our with exasperation as you struggled with the hem of his shirt. “-just take off your shirt!”

Poor Midoriya’s cheeks were on fire, his face very much resembling a red strawberry as his bruised digits wrapped around yours, trying desperately to keep his shirt down over his chest.

It wasn’t as if you’d ever seen him shirtless, you had seen him like that countless of times....he just didn’t want to worry you. Yeah his last patrol was a little-rougher-than the rest...but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle!

But deep down he knew it looked pretty bad, the bruises blossoming under his skin, deepening with each hour as they were still pretty fresh. And even though they stung, and made it hard to move in certain positions, and-yeah it was kinda hard to breathe in certain ways....he was fine, he swears!

You stopped your tug of war against Izuku, hands falling limp against his thighs, your body hovering over his legs.

“Izuku please,” you pleaded, eyebrows furrowing in sympathy, “I know there’s something wrong...I just want to make sure your okay!”

“I know, I-I just-“ he stuttered our, green orbs full of guilt, “I don’t want to worry you!”

You huffed, feeling defeat flood your body, as you softly caressed the hem of Izuku’s shirt, his favorite one....

His favorite shirt.

It was cruel to do this to him, and you knew it was wrong, but of course you wouldnt actually do it...but that overwhelmingly cruel light bulb idea was now stuck in your brain and wasn’t letting go.

You sighed yet again, this time with an over exaggeration and devilish grin on your face.

“Oh, that’s okay then...” you stated, your words sickly sweet and understanding.

Izuku perked up, unaware by your drastic change in demeanor.

“R-really?!? It is?”

You looked at his slightly relieved face, smile still on your lips. “Yeah of course! If you don’t want to take off your shirt, I can always just cut it off of you-“

Izuku audibly gulped, wise eyes growing even larger.

You-you wouldn’t right? You knew well that this was one of his favorite tshirts, as it had his favorite hero on it plus it was the comfiest one he owned...he wouldn’t ever find a tshirt he loved as much as this one.

Izuku stared at your face, trying to see pass a bluff...but you were good at hiding your true emotions, eyes glinting mischievously in the hazy warm lights.

“So whats it gonna be ‘Zuku?” you asked softly, slowly trailing under the cloth of his shirt, leaving a lowing hum of electricity on his skin. “The scissors are right there after all-“

“I-I’ll take off the shirt,” he said sheepishly, cheeks glowing a shade of red.

You giggled at his expression, thankful he took the bait as you took his face in your hands, your thumbs trailing his infinite freckles.

He could be stubborn, but he always gave in...eventually.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ ✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Shinso

Really doesn’t like being “taken care of”

Like don’t get me wrong, you dotting over him makes him all warm and fuzzy inside,,,

But, idk, he just doesn’t like the feeling of being weak

Kind of like Izuku, tried to deny the fact he’s hurting

But he is much easier to persuade

Usually just takes a kiss or two and he gives in to your efforts

If you have to bandage him up, he likes to be a big flirt to cover up his grimaces

Gives you a bunch of blush worthy compliments,,,,,

Calls you his “Nurse Babe”

Whatever the hell that means

Honestly, after an hour of having your whole attention on him he is hooked

He will never be the same again...he is a hoe for that attention for eternity now 💀

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

Your finger were feeling as if they were being tugged out their sockets, the huge bucket of soft soppy warm water sloshing dangerously in its container.

You stepped into the room where a bruised up Shinso lay on the floor, hand lazily scrolling on his phone.

Hearing you enter the room, his head tilted towards you, his once bored expression peeking up into curiousty. His violet eyes watched you intently as you set down the bucket with a huff, kneeling next to his body as you submerged some towels in the luke warm water.

“Whatcha doin’ doll?” He asked, voice still gruff from a nap he had taken a few minutes prior.

You simply continued your work, small smile on your lips as you placed a few towels in the floor.

“Well, since the doctors said you weren’t clear for a shower or bath for the night,” you stated softly, “I thought I’d give one myself.”

“So a sponge bath?” Shinso said plainly. “I’m not some old man, kitten, I’m perfectly fine to take a bath-hell, I can take a shower just fine.”

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, shaking your head at him.

“When your bruises aren’t the color of your hair, maybe I’ll believe you-“ you gave him a small grin, swallowing down a ball of saliva. “-now take off your shirt.”

Shinso simply chuckled, an exasperate sigh leaving his lips. He knew too well that you were determined to nursing him back to health (even though he felt he was perfectly fine)....so really, there was no point in trying to believe him. And at this point...he wasn’t to sure he even wanted you to.

Having all your undivided attention on him was...nice-even if he hated admitting it.

“Doll, if you just wanted me to strip down...” he said cheekily, that shit eating grin plastered on his pale skin. “All you had to was ask.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, helping hin slowly peel his shirt off his skin-thank god it was a button down, or this would have been a hell of a lot harder.

But sitting in his lap, hands trailing gently against the soft skin of his abdomen and those piercing eyes watching your every move...it wa snaking your body feel particularly too hot for an otherwise cool room.

“Aw, you poor thing,” Shinso cooed with an air of arrogance, “are you flustered?”

“N-no,” you stuttered, kicking yourself internally for your obvious slip up, “I’m just wondering how the hell you lost so hard to get so many bruises.”

Shinso chuckled at your feeble attempt at a comeback, loving how you were so affected by this change in the atmosphere.

He deifnitely wnated to capitalize on this moment, his digits cradling your face as he forced you to look at him.

He grinned yet again, teeth biting his bottom lips as he gazed at you with a hungry look.

“Aw, but you are-” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave.

“-It’s okay doll, you don’t have to hide it from me...I like seeing you like this,”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧

[tangledstarlight]

oh all of this silence and patience (oh im pining in anticipation)

listen it’s still august in some timezones so this totally counts as posting something in august okay? okay! i hope people like this, it took me far too long to finish, but also special shoutout to the wonderful @ourstarscollided​ who really helped me with the whole first section of this fic, without her i truly would still be working on it, so thank you eunice, you’re the best!💜 okay enjoy! 

the first firefighter!luke fic for anyone who wants to read that first, though it can be read alone: ao3 / tumblr

also on ao3!

lil disclaimer: i’m still not a firefighter and i also know that they dont use fire poles anymore but lets just ✨pretend✨ for the visual okay. this takes place between part 4 and 5 in the original fic!

trigger warnings! lots of swearing, implied sexual content.

RATED T –– there’s no graphic scenes but there’s a lot of kissing and fading to black, so rating might change if anyone needs me to 😬

Word count: 6,072

“Look who it is!”

Julie feels a grin pull up on the corners of her mouth as she spots Luke’s station captain coming around the end of one of the fire trucks Julie is walking between, sending her a wave of the clipboard she’s holding. “You’re here early.”

“Yeah, class ended early and I thought I'd pop over to see if I could get some extra time with Luke,” Julie shrugs, holding up the pale grey burlap bag that Alex had packed their food into.

And there’s a sympathetic look that crosses over Harrison’s face, because she knows that the younger woman knows she’s in charge of Luke’s shifts and the reason why Julie comes over every Tuesday to have lunch with her boyfriend.

Because that’s why she was here. To have lunch with him like she did every Tuesday between her classes and when the fires of LA would allow. Sometimes Alex would text her to stop by to pick up a packed lunch for them, sometimes she made something herself, sometimes they just ordered in. The food wasn’t really the point, it was just getting to spend some time together. Julie had never really thought about it before, but there was always something, someone, somewhere, trapped or hurt or on fire. Luke was a very busy person, and it meant sometimes their lunches got interrupted by blaring alarms and him pressing a quick kiss to her lips before rushing off.

Tuesdays were apparently very busy days for a firefighter.

“What’s the master chef prepared for you this week then?” Harrison asks, crossing her arms and clipboard across her chest and lifting one brow, “Y’know Alex used to cook for us, he’d send Luke in every Saturday he was on shift with all sorts of goodies.”

Julie bites her lip to try not to laugh at the exaggerated sigh that leaves the older woman's lips as she shakes her head sadly. There was something about Vivian Harrison that just— put people at ease. The first time Julie had officially met her there had been a warm hug and teasing remarks and there was just something that had viscerally reminding Julie of her aunt Victoria that it was kind of impossible not to like the station captain after that.

“He was pretty busy so it’s just some sandwiches,” she wrinkles her nose a little before smiling, “I’ll tell him how much you’re missing his cooking though, I’m sure the blame will fall completely on Luke.”

Harrison laughs, and tilts her head slightly as she shrugs, “That boy of yours is just very easy to blame.”

She feels a sudden flush to her cheeks at ‘that boy of yours’ that she hopes can be played off by how warm it always is in the station. She can see Harrison’s lips twitching, like she’s about to say something teasing, but Julie is saved from it by two people walking past them and a change of mind.

“Morales, can you tell Patterson his lunch is here.”

“Sure thing Cap,” one of the guys says, shooting her a wide smile that Julie feels compelled to return quickly before he’s rushing off, past the fire engines and up some stairs. And Julie’s about to ask Harrison if they’ve been busy today and if she’d found time to visit the farmers market they’d talked about last time, but another voice interrupts, and Julie hadn’t even realised the other guy hadn’t followed his friend.

“So you’re Patterson’s girl, right?” The blonde asks, eyes scanning her up and down in a way that makes her want to hide behind someone. There’s something vaguely familiar about him, probably because she’s seen him in passing for the last couple of months but never talked to him. Which wouldn’t have been weird if most of the other people in the station hadn’t introduced themselves the first time Luke had invited her to one of their station parties, and made an effort to talk to her whenever she'd stopped by since.

“Yeah, I’m Julie,” she smiles politely, trying to put emphasis on her name. She doesn't mind being known as Luke's girl by people at the station who have actually made an effort to get to know her. 

“Right, right, nice to meet you Julie. I’m Nick, I’m sure Luke’s mentioned me,” he grins, teeth showing and shoulders pulling back like he’s expecting her to — what? Clap? A small furrow works its way between her brows as Nick starts up a conversation without even waiting for her response and she suddenly understands what Luke means about him. Because he has mentioned the condescending, stereotypical blonde frat boy before, and never in a good way. It was mostly followed by some very creative swear words and a mumbled ‘he’s going to get either himself or one of us really hurt one day’.

She tries to follow along with the conversation, nodding politely and laughing whenever Harrison forces one out, but Nick only seems interested in talking about himself, and normally she can feign interest, but right now all she wants is to talk to one person in particular.

There’s the sound of too many voices heading in their direction and Julie turns around, eyes searching for one person, but all she’s met with is a collection of firefighters she vaguely knows and tries not to let her disappointment show too clearly on her face.

“Wow Molina, don’t look so excited to see us!” An elbow nudges her side and Julie glances up to see Carrie Wilson has appeared in the place that Nick had just stood, eyebrows raised and a blinding smile as the other blonde frowns from behind her, still trying to carry on his conversation.

“No! I am glad to see you all it’s just—” Julie starts, eyes a little wide as she looks at the other girl because Carrie had only ever been nice to her, but Luke had a lot of stories about the blonde being ruthless and rude to people she was mildly inconvenienced by.

(One of Luke’s favourite stories was about Carrie loudly telling some girl that Nick was flirting with how he had used the same lines on her two months before. Luke told it every chance he could get, sparing no details on the look of horror that has taken over Nick’s face.)

“You’re here for Patterson,” Carrie cuts her off with a wink, elbow nudging her lightly again, ���Don’t worry, we all know. He should be down soon.” There’s something about how she says it that raises more questions than answers for Julie, furrow between her brows and mouth opening to comment when Carrie just nods her head behind her, and Julie turns around to spot Luke.

It’s impossible, Julie knows it’s impossible, but she could swear time slows down. Like she’s in some rom-com movie where the main character sees their love interest for the first time.

Only she’s not in a film, she’s stood next to a fire engine and trying to care about what the people around her are talking about and it’s far from the first time she’s seen the love interest. But the world still feels like it’s in slow motion all the same as she looks up as Luke calls her name from the second floor, grinning at her from over the banister and holding up one hand in that universal signal for ‘wait’.

And Julie waits, not that she could really do anything else with the firehouse blurring at the edges and Nick's voice fading into the background. Focus entirely on Luke.

She’s never seen someone slide down the pole before, didn’t even know that they still used them in firehouses, but Julie’s pretty sure it shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Though, she supposes, it could just be Luke. His hand wraps around the metal and Julie swallows as her eyes are drawn to his arms, to where his top pulls tight and his forearms are on show. If this was a film, there’d be some stereotypical song about sex playing in the background right about now. All her slightly hazy brain can supply is the chorus to Lady Marmalade on repeat. His legs wrapped around the pole, ankles crossed and thighs pressed together, comes into view as he slides down the metal, all cool and in control, and Julie's throat goes dry.

She knows how much strength it takes to slide down a pole. Her and Flynn had taken a few pole dancing classes a few years ago in an attempt to add some sort of exercise into their day. Julie can still remember how much her arms ached and the bruises that littered the insides of her thighs after even the simplest of moves.

It was hard, and Luke was making it look so easy.

His feet hit the ground, and even though she’s too far away to actually hear it, she’s pretty sure they must make some sort of thudding sound. Because that’s what happens, right? You slide down the pole and your feet hit the floor with a thud that shows you’re ready for action. Only Luke isn’t going off to put on his uniform and fight a fire or save a life.

He’s walking towards her, suspenders swaying and smile widening and eyes never leaving her face.

And look, she knows that she’s seen Luke fully naked, fresh out of a shower or panting on his back. But seeing him slide down that fucking pole in his white t-shirt, suspenders by his knees and hair a mess? Hottest thing she has ever seen. And he knows it if the way his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he gets closer is anything to go by.

“How long did it take you to practice all that, Patterson?” Carrie asks, and Julie can hear the teasing tone in her voice and would normally enjoy seeing Luke stammer and blush, but right now she’s the one feeling too warm and is pretty sure if she started speaking right now all that would come out would be a high pitched noise.

“About the same amount of time it takes you to do your hair,” is his easy reply and Julie watches as Carrie rolls her eyes, hair flipping over her shoulder, and because he’s momentarily not looking at her, Julie tries to pull her thoughts together. To get a hold of herself. This is not the first time she has seen him in his uniform, she has seen in him in far less, and she will not turn into a blushing mess right now!

“Alright you lot, back to work!” Harrison interrupts before anyone can say anything else, and everyone starts walking away, some nudging Luke as they go, some giving her a wave, and she thinks she must smile back, at least she hopes she does. Her brain is still very much focused on Luke and how his thighs probably looked coming down that pole without the heavy duty trousers. “You tell Alex I’m still a fan of the flapjack he makes,” Harrison says as she walks past, dropping an eye into a wink and giving Luke a look she doesn’t understand.

A tense smile pulls at Julie’s lips that she hopes comes across as genuine and not just her unable to speak because of her incredibly hot and infuriatingly knows it boyfriend.

“You alright, Jules? Looking a little flushed, need me to get one of the EMT’s?” Luke asks, all innocence and anything but subtle as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, teeth still chewing on his damn lip.

“Just—” she clears her throat, trying to glare up at him, but already knowing it’s ruined by the heat in her cheeks and how she can’t stop staring at his arms. God, she hasn’t been this distracted by his arms since their first date. Blowing out a breath, Julie drags her eyes away from where his arms are crossed across his chest — which, she’s like, 80% sure he’s doing on purpose right now, the little shit — and up to his face just as he raises an eyebrow at her.

“It’s just a little warm,” she finally manages to get out, raising her hand that’s clutching the reusable grocery bag too tight, “Alex sent me with lunch.”

Luke’s eyes light up at the mention of Alex and food, hands dropping from his chest to eagerly reach for the bag and Julie can’t help but giggle at how quickly he can switch from cocky to cute.

“Swee-et! Alex is best,” he grins down at her, drawing out the first syllable of the word and bobbing his head at her. “You wanna eat outside?”

Julie doesn’t respond, just nods her head and links her fingers through his empty hand, letting Luke lead her out of the fire station and to the little grassy area outside. There’s already a blanket on the ground, two bottles of water and a warmth spreads through her for a different reason as Luke pulls her down to the ground and spreads out the food Alex has given them.

They get an hour.

An hour to eat lunch and curl up together to talk and giggle and try to keep their hands visible at all times. It’s both her favourite and the most tortuous hour of her week so far. And Luke’s just leaning in to whisper something in her ear, his breath against her cheek sending shivers down her spine when the alarm starts blaring from inside and his head drops to her shoulder with a sigh that mingles with her own groan.

“I gotta go,” he mutters into the fabric of her t-shirt, and she can imagine how his lips would feel brushing against her skin if they were somewhere else right now.

“I know,” she sighs and carefully moves her shoulder so he has to lift his head up, eyes apologetic as they meet hers. “Be careful?”

“Always am,” Luke smiles gently at her and then he’s getting up and leaving her on the blanket and feeling the loss. Julie watches him go, knees pulled up to her chest and blowing him a kiss when he turns around to wave one last time like he always does when the alarm inevitably ends their lunch date early.

Which normally Julie was fine with.

He was at work. He had a job. He had an important job.

Running out in the middle of lunch was fine. And it would have been fine today, if he hadn’t slid down that damn pole and filled her head with all sorts of ideas and left her fidgeting in her seat. It doesn’t help that Luke clearly knows, if the way he presses a kiss to her forehead and mutters a sorry, eyes a little wide and promises to see her later.

Which is all well and good, but Julie can’t help but feel like he did it on purpose and wonders if there’s a way for her to make him feel just as flustered as she had an hour earlier.

//

It takes her a while to form a plan of revenge, and then it takes a while longer for her to gather all the things she needs. And okay, maybe at some point she forgets why she’s doing all this, and then Luke mentions the pole at the station and how it makes his muscles ache sometimes as he says he’s going for a shower and Julie remembers the sight of him coming down and redoubles her planning.

The hard part comes when she has to pick a day. Because she can’t lure him to her house, not while her dad is working odd hours and her brother is home and Victoria still has a tendency to show up unannounced. Which leaves finding a time when his apartment is empty.

Not an easy feat when Reggie works from home part time, and can’t actually be trusted to stick to his word when he says he’ll be out and Alex has a weekend routine he’s hard pressed to change and likes to get home from work and relax. Plus she has to check when Luke isn’t working on a weekend, which turns out to be the easiest part, because it turns out Harrison really likes her and was happy to schedule Luke a weekend off when she asked.

Sure, she could have enacted her plan while one or both of them were home too but, well Julie knows the boys are all very close, and she knows that they’ve accepted her into the closeness with welcome arms. But she’s not sure she wants to have sex while they’re eating leftover lasagna down the hall. Feels a little too close for her liking. Plus, she has a plan that might end up involving their bath and she’s not sure they’d want to be there for that.

So Julie bides her time. Changes her mind on what clothes she wants and practices different poses on her bed at night and drops little hints about a weekend alone together.

Alex makes plans first, announces that he’s going with Willie to an out of state kids skateboarding competition to help cheer on Willie’s little proteges. He makes a big deal out telling them all the dates and how they had plans to go to some couples spa on their way back and how his restaurant would be ‘more than happy to supply any meals for two that you two might want’.

It had gone over Luke’s head, just nodding and asking about the competition. But Julie had gotten the hint.

And then a few days later Reggie said he had ‘big plans’ with her dad and brother of all people. He’d said it one afternoon when she’d stopped by to see Luke before his week of night shifts, how they were going to go camping so her dad could take some photos for a project and Reggie could teach Carlos to fish, and then he’d dropped his eye in a dramatic wink when she’d asked if that was the same weekend Alex was also away.

(Julie knew that she probably should have found it a little weird how often Reggie seemed to talk and hang out with her family, but the first time she’d gotten home to find him sitting at the dining room table, helping her dad edit photos and offering to order pizza, had felt strangely right.

Like he had always been a part of their family.

Luke had asked her once, a few weeks after they first started dating if it was okay. If she didn’t mind that Reggie had seemed to attach himself to her family. He never explicitly said anything, but she’d known him long enough by then to see the hints, the secrets she wasn’t aware of yet. Of lonely childhoods and something lacking. The hints that he’d found that with her family. And even if she hadn’t been fine with it already, she wasn’t about to stop Reggie. The Molina’s had never been shy about taking in lost souls.)

So apparently she hadn’t been quite as subtle as she thought she’d been with her hints. Both boys clearly conspiring to get her a weekend alone with their best friend. Julie’s just glad that Luke clearly hasn’t noticed. Or if he hadn’t, hadn’t teased her about it.

And that their apartment is empty when she uses her key to let herself in on Friday evening, Hotdog already waiting by the shoes for Luke, head tilted as she looks up mewling softly in disappointment.

“Sorry sweetie, he’ll be home soon though,” Julie mummers, bending down to scratch behind the cat's ears before stepping out of her shoes, which Hotdog happily moves to sit on top of instead. “Be sure to make a big fuss when he gets in so I know, alright?”

Hotdog doesn’t respond, just fixes her eyes back on the front door to wait for Luke, and Julie moves further into the apartment, laughing quietly at the plate of brownies Alex or Willie have clearly left out for them on the counter, blushing slight as she reads the short message scrawled on a post-it note,

‘Don’t mess up my kitchen ;)’

She tries not to let herself think too hard or long about how clearly they all knew about her grand plans for the night. And the next day, and hopefully the whole weekend if things went according to plan.

Picking up the plate on her way through the kitchen, Julie shrugs out of her coat to leave on the back of one of the kitchen stools, because if Luke missed her shoes in the hall, he won't miss this, and she’s really hoping he’ll get the hint to head towards his bedroom. By the time she’s made it to Luke’s room she’s lifted the cellophane off the plate and taken a bite from one of the brownies. Definitely Willie who’d baked them, he was always doubling up the chocolate content. Where Alex was experimental in the kitchen, Willie was a traditionalist who believed chocolate was the best way to set a mood. Julie couldn’t really fault his logic as she moves into Luke’s room.

His room looks the same as it had the first time she’d seen it. Only now there’s a bottle of her perfume on his dresser, and some of her clothes on his ‘laundry’ chair, and polaroids of the two of them stuck in the corners of the photo frames of him and the boys. And Julie knows if she thinks about it, that her room at her dad's house is also littered with pieces of him as well, and she knows it’s only been a few months, but it feels like years. Like her life had been full of all these little gaps she’d never noticed until they were filled with Luke.

Putting the plate down, she starts moving around his room. Pulling out the firefighting coat he’d brought home a few weeks ago because he’d found a rip in the shoulder, rooting through his wardrobe for the plain blue cut off she’d seen the last time she was over and laying them out on his bed. Tilting her head, Julie mentally puts together her outfit one more time. Shorts, suspenders, Luke’s cut-off, coat, maybe the shoes? She bites her lip and decides to come back to it, to see how everything looks on.

It’s strange, Julie thinks as she clips one side of her suspenders to her shorts, how nervous she is about this. It’s not like this is the first time they’ll have slept together, but it is the first time she’s done anything like this. Dressed up in something other than a pretty dress for dinner that he’d taken great care of taking off her.

What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was weird? What if he got home and was too tired to do anything? He’d been at work all day, after a long week of working, maybe she should change her plans and do it tomorrow night? What if—

She cuts her own thoughts off with a groan, sitting down on the end of Luke’s bed to take a breath and fiddle with knee high sheer socks dotted with little stars that she’d ordered online. Logically, Julie knows that Luke will like this, that he’ll look at her with those eyes of his that can’t hide a single emotion and smile at her slowly and call her beautiful.

Because he’d been complimenting her since their first date, and every day since. Little things and big changes and all the between. He really did seem to like her just as much dressed up and with make-up on as he did when she’d just woken up on a morning with her hair a mess and pillow creases still on her cheeks.

And that in itself was scary.

Because he liked her for her and didn’t need her to change. She’d never really dated anyone before who didn’t want her to be less invested in music or spend less time with her family or who didn’t like Flynn or even one guy who thought she should try a different scent of shampoo. They’d all been relationships littered with red flags, big and small.

But not even Flynn could find a real warning sign about Luke. Maybe he was a little co-dependant on his friends, but neither of them could say anything because they were a little co-dependant too. And maybe he could be a little over enthusiastic, but he also knew when to give her space. He had a stable job and good friends and was cute and lived in a nice area and he had a cat.

And, once upon a time, he had had a similar dream to her.

One of the things Flynn had managed to dig up on him during her ‘background’ check was an old low quality video on youtube of three boys in a garage playing instruments that looked too big for them but taking the whole thing seriously. Voices cracking on the cover of Summer of ‘69 they were playing, but Julie had seen the way they grinned at each other, at the way a younger Luke had bounced around the small space and Reggie had rocked on his feet and Alex had thrown a drumstick in the air and caught it again. They were kids, but they were talented and it's at that moment that Julie realises Luke was right. They could have made it.

She wonders what would have happened if fate hadn’t intervened in the form of a fire. She’s pretty sure Luke has wondered the same thing too. He doesn’t talk about it much and Julie’s never sure how much to push because he seems happy in his life and choices. And plus, if it hadn’t been for a fire in a record store, there’s a chance they wouldn’t have met.

Julie frowns a little at that thought as she rolls on her second sock over her knee and stands up, straightening out her shorts and twisting the side of Luke’s cut off up and tying it into a knot. She’s never been the biggest believer in fate since her mom died but she thinks there’s something a little like fate that’s pulled them together. And she thinks they’d have met with a fire or without a fire, with music or without.

She wrinkles her nose at herself in the mirror at that thought, rolling her eyes at how cheesy it sounds even to herself. Fate and destiny, who did she think she was? They were just two people lucky enough to find each other.

An alarm goes off on her phone to tell her she’s got half an hour before Luke is due home and this is her last chance if she wants to change her mind.

Tilting her head a slightly to the side, Julie takes in her high waisted shorts, red suspenders dangling by her thighs, the way her t-shirt cinches at her waist and reveals just a strip of skin above her shorts where she knows Luke likes to rest his hands when he pulls her close. She’d taken extra care with her curls and all she had to do was apply some lipstick and touch up her eyeliner and she’d be ready.

It’s Flynn’s voice in the back of her head as she tucks curls behind her ears to lean a little closer to her reflection and, as she pulls back, smacking her lips once before letting them rest in a pout, she can’t help but reiterate it, “I do look hot.”

The front door shuts and Julie can hear Hotdog meowing and Luke’s muffled voice down the corridor as she’s pulling his coat over her shoulders. It’s far too big for her, hanging below her knees and she has to roll the sleeves up three times to free her hands, but the collar smells like smoke and metal and Luke and his last name is written across the right hand side and his station across her back.

That was the part that Flynn had said would really get him — his name on her. Luke wasn’t exactly possessive, but she and Flynn had agreed there was just something about it that was A Lot, in a good way. (Unlike buying a pole and installing it in Luke’s room for a weekend, that was A Lot, in a bad way. Her plan had gone through many different phases before settling on this one. Luckily, it was also the cheapest.)

“Jules?” Luke calls and Julie bites her lip as she carefully climbs on to his bed, and kneels in the middle before changing her mind and crawling off the other side to stand next to it instead.

“I’m in here,” she calls back and she hears something dropping to the floor, probably his bag she guesses, and then his footsteps sounding down the hall.

Julie’s glad she opted for the shoes, just simple black heels, but they give her an extra lift and something more for Luke to look at as he opens his bedroom door. She has one knee slightly bent and resting on her toes, coat sleeves hiding the way her hands are balled up at her sides and one shoulder raised a little higher than the other as she tilts her head at him, biting her lip.

He freezes in the doorway, mouth partly open like he’d been about to say something only to get lost somewhere between his brain and vocal chords as his eyes seem to lock on to the coat she’s wearing before traveling down to her bare legs and Julie watches him swallow, adam's apple bobbing. Just as his eyes get back up to her face she moves one hand to tuck her coat behind her hip and hook her thumb under her suspenders in a way she’s seen him do countless times.

And it gets the reaction she wants, his eyes zeroing in on her hand and tracing up the line of red that covers her chest. Luke’s tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip as he blinks and finally drags his eyes back up to her face, pupils blown wide and she watches as he lets out a heavy breath.

“Hi,” she breathes out, and almost immediately regrets it. She's trying for sexy but thinks it just comes across as gasping. Which she hopes she’ll be eventually at some point tonight, but would at least like to be touched a little first.

“You—” Luke starts, and his voice is rough like he’s not used it in hours so he swallows again and Julie’s momentarily distracted by the way his throat moves before his speaking again, “Is that my coat?”

“Maybe,” Julie shrugs, turning slightly so she can pull at the collar of the coat to peer down at the name stitched in the fabric, “Oh look, it does say your name. Would you like me to take it off?” She blinks up at him with a soft smile.

Julie doesn’t know if it’s the smile or her words or just everything about the moment, but Luke lets out a low groan and before she can even blink he’s stood in front of her, hands on her hips and fingers brushing against her strip of visible skin, just like she knew he would. And she’s thankful for the heels all over again when it gives her the little extra height that means Luke doesn’t have to bend down quite so far to brush his lips across her cheek.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he mutters, lips ghosting along her jaw and Julie has to rest her hands against his chest to steady herself as her legs already feel wobbly. If she didn’t love him, she’d almost hate him for how easily he can affect her.

“Luke,” she whines as he continues to avoid her lips and trails one hand up his chest to wrap around his neck, fingers winding into his hair to tug lightly which only results in making him huff a laugh against the skin below her ear before giving in and pulling back.

“So,” he starts, press a light kiss to her cheek again again, “fucking,” he kisses the corner of her lips, “beautiful.” And he finally presses his lips to hers, soft at first and then she nips lightly at his top lip and he flexes his fingers against her hip, tugging her a closer with her suspenders to deepen the kiss.

Julie walks them backwards until the backs of her knees hit the edge of his bed and Luke takes the lead from there, lowering her down without breaking the kiss. He pulls away just enough to gasp for a breath, and she looks up at him, chest heaving and takes her chance to start her own teasing trail of kisses up his neck and across his jaw.

“Fuck,” he mutters and Julie smiles as she sucks lightly at his neck and sees the red mark her lipstick has left behind. She just hopes it lasts long enough for her full plan.

//

“This was because of the pole thing a few weeks ago, right?” Luke asks a few hours later as they lie in the middle of his bed, blankets half pushed to the floor and Julie’s spent the last five minutes kicking her legs back and forth to try and dislodge the reminder from covering her legs without having to turn around or sit up. She’s perfectly comfortably lying on her front, licking chocolate off her fingers from one of the brownies that Alex and Willie had been correct in leaving for them.

“Maybe,” she tries to shrug, but it’s awkward in this position and she quickly gives up to just look at him from under her lashes with a smile.

Luke laughs, his fingers trailing up and down her arm and over her shoulder a few times before he sits up slightly and leans over to press a kiss to her shoulder, “If I’d known it would cause such a reaction I would have slid down that pole in front of you months ago.”

“It might have still taken us months to get to this. Your roommates have very annoying schedules,” she shakes her head sadly and she thinks her hair has to be hitting him in the face, but he doesn’t say anything, just carefully gathers it in one hand to drape over her other shoulder, his lips still brushing soft kisses across her skin.

“Yeah. I’d get rid of them if Alex didn’t feed me for free and Reggie didn’t get us so many free tickets to stuff,” he sighs, breath blowing against her skin as his nose nudges over her shoulder blade until his lips follow and his rest his chin on her shoulder, and all she has to do is turn her head a little to find his eyes on her lips. “Though it would be so worth it for weekends like this.”

“Guess we should just make the most of this one first, huh?”

It’s a little awkward, and Luke must be uncomfortable with his torso twisted like it is, but it’s easy to kiss Luke, and to roll over until she can push him back down until his back hits the mattress and she can hover over him instead.

“You sound like you have a plan,” Luke comments, and his hands rest on her hips, fingers tapping against her as he looks up at her with those damn eyes of his. The ones that can’t hide a single thought or emotion. And all she can see is love, and okay yeah, probably a lot of lust.

“There might have been some bullet point list involved,” she shrugs one shoulder, her hair slipping over as she moves and Luke’s fingers flex against her, squeezing one hip as he lets out something that sounds halfway between a laugh and a groan.

“That shouldn’t be this hot,” he shakes his head, but his eyes are still shining and Julie loves him.

So she tells him. And kisses him. And wonders if it’s too soon to suggest they spend all their weekends together forever.

[soemthingsparkly]

Request- kinda like a brothers best friend kinda thing and Rose is alive. Reggie is Julie older brother and she has a crush on his best friend Luke, but doesn't want to ruin anything between anyone, and Luke staying there for time being because of a argument between him and his parents again. But one day Luke and Julie both wake up sick and laid up on the couch or bed for a week with Rose caring for them. What if that week the thing they needed to get closer and admit there feeling for each other and get together, and Reggie approves. Please.

Thanks for the request, anon. 

I spent at least a week mulling over how I wanted to do this and I think the only way I can tell this story is to tell it in full. So it’s going to be a multi-parter. 

Stay tuned <3

--

Have Some Faith in Me

‘Never thought that I was weak Always thought I could get hurt pretty bad Still get up on my own two feet.’

Master Pretender, First Aid Kit.

Part One | Part Two

Julie is the one who answers the door that evening.

She stands in shock, looking at the boy who, until just now, had been missing for the past week.

The last time she'd seen him, he'd been brimming with rage, pacing outside the school, his cheeks flushed with simmering anger.

"Dude, calm down," Alex had told him, sitting on the stone balustrade and kicking his legs. His heels drummed rhythmically against the wall beneath him. 

Luke ground to a halt and glared at Alex. He threw his arms up. "How can I calm down, Alex? This is the worst thing that could possibly happen to us."

"I think that might be an exaggeration," Julie chipped in, sitting with the three current members of Sunset Curve. She and Reggie were waiting to be picked up by Rose. "Your mom just said you couldn't perform at the bar. Which is fair enough considering what happened last time."

Luke scoffed and swatted her comment away. "Shut it, mini Molina. It was just a couple of drinks, alright?”

Julie glowered at the wannabe-rockstar. "Yeah and you almost got Reggie killed."

Reggie, who had fallen off the stage in drunken glee, had ended up with twelve stitches in his head and had to wear a cast on his sprained wrist for a week. Alex had been grounded and Luke’s parents had confiscated his guitar. 

Suffice to say, band practice had not gone ahead that week. 

Alex pursed his lips, recalling the events, while Reggie looked up at the sky. "Dry day, huh?" he murmured, to which Julie rolled her eyes.

Luke turned to Alex for support, but the boy just shrugged. "Julie's kinda right, dude. It wasn't our best night."

Julie raised her eyebrows and gestured to Alex. "See? Someone gets it."

At this point, it seemed to occur to Luke that he was not going to get any sympathy or support from the three of them on the steps. He huffed and shook his head, before leaning down to grab his backpack from where it sat at Reggie's feet. But when went to swing it over his shoulder, a strap caught around Reggie's ankle and yanked him down the steps.

Reggie gasped as his shirt rode up and his bare back is exposed and grated by the abrasive stone steps beneath him.

There was a moment where they all just stared at the squirming boy, sprawled out on the lower steps, eyes wide and mouth drawn in suprise. None of them could quite believe that just happened.

And then Reggie’s face crumpled. "Fuck," he hissed, wincing, as he pulled his foot free.

Julie leapt to her feet and dropped to a knee in front of him. "Are you okay?"

Reggie eyes closed and he tipped his head back. "I'm okay," he said with a groan, before throwing a thumbs up.

Julie spun to glare at Luke. "Why don't you be more careful next time, huh?"

Luke stood, his bag hanging limply from his shoulder. 

"Reg, I'm –"

But when Julie frowned at him again, Luke's apology turned into a hardened resolve.

"You know what? Screw you guys," he growled, before turning heel and stalking off.

Still wincing, Reggie had moved to get up, but Julie grabbed his arm at the same time as Alex shook his head.

"Just..." Alex began, before sighing. "Best just let him calm down for a bit."

"God, he's such a drama queen," Julie huffed. "Seriously, why do you guys put up with him? All he does is get you both in trouble."

"That's not fair," Reggie said, sitting up and putting a hand to his sore back. He winced. "He's a good guy and he's our family, Jules. You know what that means to us.”

But when he brought his hand back, little spots of blood on speckle his finger tips.

Julie raised an eyebrow at her brother. "Family, huh? Family don't hurt each other like that."

"Julie, please," Alex said, softly. She looked up to him. He dragged his fringe out of his face before burying his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket. "Just leave it."

Julie pursed her lips, but dropped the conversation, instead ordering Reggie to lift his shirt so that she could inspect his back.

Just a surface graze.

"We'll talk to him later, okay?" Alex said as Julie pulled a pack of tissues out of her back to dab the beading blood from Reggie's pale skin.

But they didn't get to speak to him later, because, for the first time ever, Luke didn’t show for band practice. And the day after that he’d missed school - which, while it wasn’t uncommon, per say, did trigger some concern, especially when he missed another practice, and another, until Emily Patterson was on the phone in tears.

"No, Emily, I haven't seen him... No, the boys have been here, but not Luke..."

Julie had stepped into the kitchen and found her mom on the phone, her thumb and finger working her bottom lip in worry. Reggie was sat at the table, hands clenched together, knee jerking, heel rapping against the chair leg. His face was pale and sullen, eyes red and tired.

"Luke's missing," he explained to her questioning glance.

"Missing?"

"He hasn't been at school and he hasn't been to rehearsal. Me and Alex checked out all our regular hang outs. We even called Bobby and asked him to keep an eye out in case Luke decided to get a bus to him."

Bobby, their ex-bandmate, who had moved to Colorado with his family last spring.

"Would he...?"

Reggie shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time..."

But a week later brings them to now and Luke is not in Colorado, nor is he at any of their local haunts. Right now, he’s here shivering and shuddering on the porch of their family home.

He’s deathly pale and wears a sheen of sweat like another skin, the only colour in his white complexion the swollen red around his eyes and the dull blue tinge to his lips. His woollen Baja is soaked through and he holds his arms close at his sides, shoulders tense and tucked in. 

He looks like a bright idea someone decided to crumple up and throw away.

“Luke?” Julie utters when her breath finally returns to her.

Luke eyelids crack open and closed as he gazes at her, brows furrowing in confusion. “Is Reg...?” he murmurs, stepping forward. 

And Julie throws herself into his path, just as his knees give in and he drops like a stone.

--

TBC

--

Taglist:

@chaoslaura @lyra-pador @soni-dragon @fuckin-fudge-nutter @doveflight44 @bowtiesareavenged @redacted-thething @rightontheborderz @spookyghostalex @gutsy-wutsys @julemmaes @khat58 @fangirlwithanxiety @allhailthesanders @random-nerd-3 @alexpjoyner @whale-mafia

[morningfears]

Hiking

Rating: PG-13 (Language, mostly)

Summary: College!Luke and hiking for the 10k celebration. 

Word Count: 2.1k (...this was supposed to be a drabble, whoops)

“Tell me why we’re doing this again.”

You listened to the crunch of gravel beneath Luke’s feet, a signal that he was rounding the car to meet you at the trunk, and bit back a laugh as you reached for the extra water bottle you’d packed because you knew that he was going to forget his own. He’d been whining since you picked him up, a pout on his lips and sunglasses perched on his nose, and you knew that he’d stop the moment you truly got annoyed with him.

For now, though, you were enjoying making fun of him just as much as he was whining.

“It was my turn to pick our activity. I like to hike.” You pressed the bottle into his hands, a saccharine smile on your lips, before you closed the trunk and shrugged. “I also like to see you miserable.”

He turned his head toward you, bright blue eyes hidden by the sunglasses he’d snagged from you years ago, and scowled. “You owe me pancakes for this. It’s so early.”

“It’s nearly ten, Luke.” He waved a hand dismissively when you scoffed, unashamed of his status as the late riser in your friendship, and leaned against the car to take a sip of his water. “Don’t drink too much. If you puke on me, I will murder you. No one will find your body up here.”

Luke snorted at that, his hands moving to tighten the cap on his water bottle before he waved them at the nearly full parking area. “There are literally fifty other people on this trail right now. Someone would find me.”

“Shut up and start moving, yeah?”

Luke breathed an exaggerated sigh and made a show of dragging his feet, sending dust and rocks flying in his wake, but followed you toward the trail. He was joking - that much he made clear when he cracked a grin at your laughter - and you knew that he had no intentions of making the hike miserable for either of you. He was annoyed to be awake so early on his only day off but there was no one he’d rather spend the day with.

And, besides, it wasn’t the first time he’d gone hiking with you.

The first time Luke went hiking with you, you were both freshmen in college and equally shy. You were a friend of a friend of a friend - Ashton was dating your roommate’s older sister - and had somehow gotten roped into going hiking with the group of them. It was Ashton’s idea, to drag all of you out to the middle of nowhere right before fall break, and Luke had only tagged along because Calum and Michael dragged him.

While you weren’t exactly the most social of the bunch, it was clear that you and Ashton were the only ones who’d actually hiked before. Whereas everyone else showed up in black, wearing various old band t-shirts and, in Michael’s bad judgement and mildly hungover case, jeans, the two of you wore actual gym gear and appropriate shoes. 

Luke quickly fell to the back of the pack, happy to be away from the chatter and the attention as he struggled up the mountain, and somewhere along the trip, you fell back with him. He knew that you were capable of beating them all up the mountain - and probably back down, if he had to wager a guess - but you kept pace with him and never even made a face at the sweat that made his t-shirt stick to his skin.

You were halfway up the mountain before either of you spoke - to everyone’s surprise, it was him; he complimented the All Time Low sticker on your water bottle - but it seemed as if neither of you knew how to shut up after that moment.

Your friendship formed quickly, bolstered by your commonalities and strengthened by your differences. If you weren’t in class or at work, you were at Luke’s. And if you weren’t there, the pair of you could usually be found elsewhere together.

When he moved into a frat house and you moved into an apartment, nothing changed. The brothers knew you, just as your roommates knew him, but your nearly nightly outings - to diners, to the movies, to the mall, to the park near campus - shifted to once a week activities that you took turns planning once you both delved deeper into your respective majors.

Luke was your best friend, just as you were his, and you were grateful for the strange hike that brought him into your life. That was, however, to everyone’s surprise, all that you were.

You had a small crush on Luke when you met - even drenched in sweat and struggling to keep himself upright, trudging up the side of a mountain he was cute - but the more you got to know him, the greater your crush grew. He was everything you’d always wanted, all wrapped in an adorable package, but you told yourself early on that you weren’t going to push; whatever happened with Luke, happened.

You knew, deep down, that Luke felt the same. You saw the way that he looked at you when he thought you weren’t looking. You saw the way he blushed when you complimented him or the way he grew flustered whenever anyone pointed out how cute the two of you would be together. Neither of you hid your feelings well but you were content to see where things went.

You always said that you’d rather have him in your life as just a friend than not at all.

Your line of thinking had recently undergone a bit of a shift. You were both approaching your senior year; two semesters away from the great unknown. Luke had plans to stay in the city and work for a record company. You were weighing your options to continue your education and considering leaving to give life elsewhere a shot.

It hurt, thinking that you’d be separated from Luke after so long of him being your only constant, but you knew that you either needed to make a move or move on.

“Alright, you haven’t said a word in almost a mile. Stop thinking, start talking.”

Luke’s words, said through huffs of air forced past his lips, broke you from your thoughts and you blinked when you noticed just how far down the trail you’d made it. You were glad you’d chosen one so familiar - the one you hiked the first time you met and found yourself returning to, time and time again - as you’d mostly relied on muscle memory to make it this far.

“Nothing to talk about. Just stressing over that Media Law final. Baker’s a dickhead and is going to make it unnecessarily difficult.” You knew that you should tell Luke the truth, spill your worries as you normally did, but you couldn’t force the words out.

It was easier this way, to continue on as you had for the past few years, and pretend that the heartache blossoming in your chest wasn’t real.

“Bullshit.” Luke stopped, nudged you to the side of the trail to let others pass, and met your eyes to search them. “That was your sad face. Baker gets the mad face. What’s up? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Of course I do, Luke.” The words fell past your lips readily, confident and clear, because you knew that. You knew that you could talk to Luke about absolutely anything and he would be there to listen. You knew that he’d never judge or laugh, not if it was a serious discussion, and that helped calm the raging sea of emotions in the pit of your stomach.

But nothing could quell the ache that settled in your bones when he looked at you the way he was.

He had a habit of looking at you like you were the one who hung the stars and moon. His eyes, usually unfocused as he zoned out, were clear and bright and shining with an admiration that rolled off him in waves. Whenever he looked at you like that, right in the eye, he always had a hand on you in some way. This time, he had one hand on your shoulder and the other cupping your cheek.

“What happens next May?”

Luke blinked, confused by the question. “Next May? After graduation?” When you nodded, your eyes flicking between his own and the sand beneath your feet, he shifted his weight and nodded slowly. “I’m staying here and you… You’re going to do something amazing. You might stay here, you might move to fucking Siberia. But whatever you do, you’re going to do it well because that’s just the kind of person you are, honey. You can’t half-ass anything, even if you try.”

Luke grinned when that got a small laugh but it was quickly replaced with a frown when you shook your head. “That’s not what I meant.” You trailed off, almost embarrassed to ask, before the words escaped your lips in a near whisper. “What happens to us?”

That was a question Luke had long considered. He, too, wondered what would happen to you both as you moved into the working world and farther away from one another. He wondered what would happen if you left the city. He wondered how he would continue on without seeing you every day.

And he realized that he didn’t want that.

“We’ll still be us,” he answered finally, his voice just as quiet as yours had been. “We’ll see each other every minute we can and if you decide to go somewhere else, we’ll FaceTime so much that we might as well just livestream our lives to each other. If you leave, I’ll come visit whenever I can and you know you’ll always have a place to stay with me if you want to come back. Nothing will change for us after graduation because I love you and I won’t let it.”

Before you could speak, before you could ask him if he really believed that was possible, Luke continued speaking.

“You know that I mean that in every sense of the word. You’re my best friend and I love you but you know that I also love you with a  capital ‘L’. Being friends with you is something I’d never change but I don’t want to spend our last guaranteed year together wondering what could be. I don’t want to just dream about kissing you, I want to actually kiss you. I want to wake up to you asking me to go hiking and kiss you to convince you to stay in bed. I want to hold your hand and wake up beside you every morning. I want to be the annoying couple everyone already thinks we are because it’s us. And it always has been.”

It felt as if a weight was lifted from your chest as Luke rambled, words spilling past his lips in a rush. He was passionate, certain, and braver than you ever could be. He took the first step, just when you were beginning to think neither of you would ever make it there, and the only way you could think to respond was with a kiss.

Pressing your lips to Luke’s didn’t send fireworks erupting across the sky nor did it feel as if the earth was going to shatter at your feet. It did, however, feel as if you were exactly where you were meant to be. You were wrapped in his arms, hands tangled in his curls, and nothing had ever felt more right.

You were upset that you’d wasted so much time, waiting for life to just happen. But, as you pulled away and rested your forehead against Luke’s, you decided that nothing else mattered anymore. The future, the one where you and Luke existed and everything else came as it would, was all that mattered.

Luke, with his bright grin and flushed cheeks, grabbed your hand and began tugging you back the way you’d come. With a laugh, you dug your heels into the ground and shook your head. “Nope. Finish hike first. Then, we go to my place and shower.”

“You’re going to make your boyfriend hike two more miles?”

“For every half mile you finish, I’ll give you a kiss.”

“Make it every quarter and I get to touch your butt.”

“Shut up and start hiking, Hemmings.”

With another grin in your direction, Luke returned his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose and kept his hand in yours as he tugged you along down the path. In the future, there would be more hikes and more kisses.

And neither of you could wait.

___________________________________

Author’s Note: ....there’s not as much hiking in this as I wanted but I got started and it, uh, had a mind of its own. Anyway, two fics in like a week? Who am I?

[nostalgiabones]

Our Little Secret // C.H

So here is a little dad!sos AU crossover that I originally just wrote for @calumrose, but then decided to actually post! There’s a bit of a surprise at the end, so let me know how you feel about that! 😌♥️

“Are you so excited, baby?”

Mara is almost bouncing around the room at the news that Luke is on his way over, with a very special guest. Ever since she found out that Luke and his partner were expecting, she had been beyond excited to meet the new addition. She had become obsessed with dolls and babies – fascinated by the growing bump of her pseudo auntie, as well as her bedroom now being full of dolls. You’d never seen the almost three-year-old so excited by the prospect of anything in her life.

“Yeah mama!” She replies, wrapping her arms around the small baby doll in her arms. “So ‘cited!”

“Do you have your present for her?” Calum asks, remembering the small teddy that had been sat in the corner of her bedroom for around a month now. It was like one that Luke had bought her when she was born, so Calum thought it would be perfect to return the favour. “Should we go get it?”

Mara nods and reaches up for Calum, wanting him to pick her up so they can go to her bedroom to get it. “You’re so lazy, bub.” Calum laughs, but picking her up all the same. “Come on then.”

By the time Calum gets upstairs with Mara and finds the present, he hears a knock at the door and you greeting Luke and his family. “Who’s here Mara? Is it the baby?”

“Go see!” She replies, squealing in excitement, waiting at the top of the stairs for Calum to help her down.

“Where’s my favourite niece?” Luke calls out, his eyes landing on Calum and Mara heading downstairs. Mara gasps when she sees the baby carrier in his hand, almost like she didn’t believe that the baby was there until she saw her.  “There she is.”

Calum sets Mara down, waiting to let go until she’s steady on her feet, watching as Mara runs up to Luke’s waiting arms. Luke feels a little emotional at seeing her, now that he has his own baby; Mara was the first band baby, the one who made Luke want to be a dad, and now he gets to be one. “Hi, sweetheart. We have someone very special for you to meet. I know she’s really excited to meet you.”

“Can I see?” She asks, trying to climb out of his arms to investigate the baby carrier on the ground. Luke nods, kneeling next to her to make sure she doesn’t get too excited.

“Should we go sit down, baby? So you can see properly? Calum suggests, knowing she’ll want to hold her if Luke and his partner will let her. She nods, running off into the lounge, waiting until everyone follows behind.

You all head into the lounge behind her, Luke keeping a tight grip on Delilah’s carrier. He knows her nap will probably end soon, and he hopes it won’t be when Mara holds her. He doesn’t want to scare her off, especially when she’s so excited.

She sits on the sofa, making grabby hands towards Luke, to get him to give her the baby. “Okay, okay. I’m getting her, I promise.” He chuckles, kneeling in front of the carrier and undoing the clasps.

“Mara, remember what we talked about, okay?” Calum reminds her, his hand rubbing up and down her back to get her attention. “We have to be very gentle, okay? Delilah is a new baby, sweetheart. She’s not used to people just yet.”

Mara nods, and Calum isn’t sure if she actually paid attention. Mara would never intentionally hurt her, of course, but he knows what she’s like when she’s excited.

“Also, she’s not a doll, okay?” You add, receiving a laugh from the other adults in the room. Mara was gentle with her dolls, but also tended to drop them on the floor when she got bored of them.

Luke undoes the straps, slipping his hands underneath Delilah, making sure he’s got a good hold on her before he scoops her up. Making sure her head is supported, he puts her on his chest, one hand underneath her, the other holding her head.

“Baby!” Mara exclaims, kicking her legs against the sofa in excitement. Calum smiles at how happy she is, keeping his hand on her back to calm her down. Delilah curls into Luke, barely taking up half of his chest – tucking her legs up into a little ball against him. She squeaks and whines a little in her sleep at being moved, soon soothed by Luke’s gentle shushes.

It’s almost like Mara goes shy when Luke moves to sit next to her. Like Delilah suddenly became real to her, and she doesn’t know how to act. Calum notices the change in her, brushing his fingers through her hair in a reassuring gesture.

“It’s okay, little moon.” He tells her, kissing her forehead as she sits a little closer to him.

“Do you want to see her first?” Luke asks her softly, aware of Delilah sleeping on him. He knows Mara wants to hold her, but it seems as though she needs to warm up to her first. Mara nods hesitantly, her hand clinging onto Calum’s knee as a sign of nervousness. “Here we go,”

Luke repositions Delilah so she’s in the cradle of his arms, her head supported by the crook of his elbow. She curls into his body, rosy cheeks sucking on the pacifier that takes up most of her face. Luke rubs his thumb over the apple of her cheek, coaxing her face away from his t-shirt, so Mara, you and Calum can see her face.

“Look at that nose,” Calum comments, noticing the slope and perfect point was so similar to that of her dad. “Just like yours, Luke.”

“She looks just like him,” Luke’s wife pouts, admiring her in the cradle of his arms. “I carry her for nine months and give birth to her, yet she looks nothing like me.”

“What do you think, Mara?” Luke asks her, hoping that he’s easing her shyness a little. “Is she cute?”

Mara nods, peering over to look at the tiny baby in her Uncle’s arms. Luke strokes his pointer finger over Delilah’s hand, showing Mara that nothing bad would happen if she came closer to interact with her. Delilah just stretches to get comfy and wraps her tiny hand around the middle of Luke’s finger.

“Shall we say hi together?” Calum asks, encouraging Mara to interact with her. Mara nods once more and moves closer to Luke, gently reaching out and tapping Delilah carefully. “Be gentle, sweetheart.”

Delilah cuddles into Luke and Mara giggles at her movement, seemingly getting excited to meet her again. She copies Luke and puts her hand on Delilah’s free one, waiting to see if she grabs hold of it, like she did to him. Delilah stretches her tiny fingers out and tries to take Mara’s hand, curling around it in a reflex.

“Look!” Mara squeals, her other hand clasping over her mouth when she realises how loud she was. She’s met with a, “it’s okay, honey” from Luke when she sees her reaction.

“I see, baby.” Calum replies, happy that she’s finally warming up to her.

“Do you want to hold her with me?” Luke asks her, met with a more excited nod this time. “Okay, hold on.”

Luke moves Delilah against him once more, managing to cradle her with one arm whilst Mara sits on his knee, his other arm wrapped around her. She whines a little once more, her pacifier slipping out from her lips as the first hiccup of a cry escapes.

“Uh oh,” Mara says, grabbing the pacifier and keeping hold of it, to make sure it doesn’t fall onto the floor. She sits still whilst Luke gets them both settled, managing to place Delilah in Mara’s arms, whilst still supported by his own.

“Keep your hand there, okay? We have to make sure her head doesn’t fall.” Luke tells her. He knows he has her head supported enough that if Mara did move, she wouldn’t fall, but he wants to make Mara feel important. “Do you want to put her pacifier back in for her?”

Mara lifts the hand occupied by the pacifier and gently holds it to Delilah’s mouth, pushing it in with Luke’s help, waiting until she took to it again. Delilah is more than happy with the contact – her face pressed against Mara’s t-shirt to get comfy, her eyes fluttering with tiredness again. “Back to sleep...”

Luke chuckles at her words, resting his cheek on her head as he holds both her and Delilah. “I know. She sleeps a lot so she can grow up to be big and strong, like you.”

They spend a little longer cuddled up together before Mara decides she’s bored, and Delilah is ready for a feed. She’s soon back in Luke’s arms, swaddled in a blanket, content as he feeds her.

“Where did her present get to, bub?” You ask Mara, knowing her and Calum went upstairs to get it before Luke had arrived. You assumed that Mara had got too excited when she heard the door go and wanted to go downstairs before she got the chance to find it. “Did you find it? Shall we go get it?”

She nods and jumps up off the sofa, letting you take her hand in your own.

“It’s on the dresser in her bedroom.” Calum informs you, where he left it earlier. He watches as the two of you head to her room to get it.

“Mara looks so big now,” Luke pouts, snuggling Delilah a little closer in his arms. “I don’t know why but now we’ve got a newborn, Mara just seems so much older.”

“Don’t say that,” Calum groans, thinking about how much Mara is growing up. He agrees with Luke though. Now that he’s seen Delilah, it makes him realise how long it’s been since Mara was that age. “She’s still a baby.”

“So, what are you thinking about baby number two, Cal?” Luke’s partner asks.

Calum chuckles, a blush rising to his cheeks at her question.

“I don’t know,” He replies, shrugging his shoulders. “We talked about it, but we’ll probably wait until Mara is a little older. Maybe when she starts school.”

Luke and his partner don’t have time to reply before you come back into the lounge with Mara, carrying the present you had gone looking for.

“What’s that, honey?” Luke asks her, smiling at the grin on her face, her hands tightly clutching the soft bear. “Is that for me?”

“Noooo,” She giggles, moving closer to peer at Delilah in his arms, now finished with her bottle and back to sleeping. “It’s for ‘Lilah, silly.”

“Oh! Silly me,” Luke replies, the ‘oh’ exaggerated for Mara’s benefit. “That’s so kind! Thank you.”

“For you, ‘Lilah,” Mara murmurs to her, placing the bear on top of her, being gentle as not to wake her up.

Delilah is passed around to you and Calum, the two of you having plenty of time to snuggle her before it’s time for them to take her home.

It’s not until late that night, once Mara is tucked up in bed, that Calum murmurs an important question to you – one that has been on his mind since he found out the exciting news himself.

You’re tucked up in bed together, legs entwined under the covers; Calum’s warm hand slipped under the soft material of his t-shirt that you stole to sleep in. His warm palm fits over the small bump there, only visible to you and him – one that you’re nervous to reveal to the toddler sleeping down the hall.

“So… when should we tell her?”

***

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[incorrect-julie-and-the-phantoms]

Fanfic trope! Alex/reggie, alex kiss reggie after he says something kinda dumb but very very sweet? Thks!

Thank you for the prompt! I know this isn’t exactly what you were thinking but this little idea popped up into mind and nagged me until it was written. I hope you enjoy!

Hot Dog Engine, Alex/Reggie

Tags: Fluff, College AU, blink and you miss it angst, some pining

Alex’s problem was all Luke’s fault. 

Not that he had done it intentionally. But ever since Luke and Jullie started dating he had been absent from their hangouts, leaving Alex and Reggie to hang out. Alone. 

At first it had been awkward, both of them not sure how to act with each other outside the usual dynamic of their group, but that soon passed. Overall, it wasn’t that different than when it was the three of them. 

Without Luke there to distract both of them, Alex was paying complete attention to Reggie and noticing things that he would have otherwise missed. Like how Reggie had a habit of eating his skittles in color order, and that he had a habit of bouncing a little when he was really excited about something. How his eyes scrunched and his voice got a little higher pitched when he was being defensive. 

At some point Alex realized that he noticed these because he was staring. Staring at Reggie’s fingers, at his mouth while he ate. Staring over at Reggie whenever they were practicing or looking to him first whenever anybody had good news. Staring as he started another argument with him just so he could see his eyes scrunch that way again.

Didn’t take a genius to figure out what that meant.

He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but one second he was just a guy hanging out with one of his best friends and the next he was a guy who was hopelessly crushing on a sweet, oblivious idiot. Alex tried to ignore the part of him that was completely unsurprised.

It wouldn’t have been a problem, but Reggie was everywhere. At some point, Reggie had decided that bothering Alex was his favorite pastime and since then had started seeking out Alex whenever he was bored, always having something he was excited to talk to somebody about. So Alex had to just sit there with his best friend and pretend that he didn’t want to kiss him all the time. It got really hard  That Reggie flirting with every single girl who looked at him didn’t bother him. That it didn’t especially bother him when Reggie flirted with Flynn right in front of him at a party one Friday night.

That it was definitely not the reason he was sulking in the studio, trying to finish the reading assignment that was due Monday.

“Hey Alex,” a voice called out from the other side of the room. Alex glanced up to see Reggie lounging in the doorway. His signature leather jacket must have been too hot for the weather because he was just wearing a pair of slightly baggy jeans and a slightly too small t-shirt with his usual flannel around his waist. 

Alex looked back down at his book without replying, ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat at Reggie’s lazy smile. 

“Aleeeeex,” Reggie whined when he realized Alex wasn’t gonna answer him. “Entertain me I’m bored.” 

Alex chose not to acknowledge him again, turning the page instead. He heard Reggie huff in annoyance at being ignored and Alex repressed a grin of amusement. He was sulking for a reason dammit! He was so distracted with not paying attention to Reggie that he didn’t notice the sound of him walking over until it was too late.

“Oof!” Alex let out a quiet noise of surprise at the sudden weight in his lap. He looked down to see Reggie smiling up at him with an impish grin. 

“Hey,” Reggie winked.

“Can I help you?” Alex asked in mock annoyance.

“Yeah, hang out with me. I’m bored.” 

Alex rolled his eyes and looked back down at his book. “Go bother Luke.” 

“Luke’s with Julie for their six months,” Reggie waved his hand dismissively. 

“How disappointing for you,” Alex said dryly.

“I wanna hang out with you more anyways,” Reggie’s impish smile turned bashful at that. How he managed to look bashful while draped across Alex like a cat was beyond him. 

Even though Reggie had said it many times before, a warm feeling blossomed in Alex’s chest and he couldn’t help the small smile he felt stretch across his face. He hid his face in his book as he felt the warmth spread to his cheeks. Reggie shifted so only his head was in Alex’s lap instead of his whole body. They sat in silence for a moment, Alex pretending to read and that he didn’t notice Reggie’s expectant gaze.

Alex finally broke the silence. “Even if I wanted to hang out, I gotta finish this book by tonight so I have time for practice later.” He hoped that would be enough of an excuse to get Reggie to go away. “I have an exam tomorrow, and I’m not about to give Professor Covington a reason to fail me.”

“His obsession with failing you is kinda weird, huh?” Reggie mused. “Maybe he’s trying to fail cause he wants you to stay with him another year.” Reggie nudged Alex to look at him, eyebrows waggling. “Maybe Professor Covington has a crush on you.”

Alex shuddered and the other boy started shaking with laughter at his own joke. “Please no.”

“If you don’t want to do it you could always drop out and start a company with me.”

“Don’t you think that would be impractical?” Alex replied in a teasing tone. 

Reggie scoffed.  “Course not. I got the whole thing planned out”

“Okay,” Alex laughed, lowering his book, “then what does our company do?”

“Uh…” Reggie reached a hand up to scratch his nose pensively.

“Let me get this straight,” Alex said. He restrained himself from adding ‘which I am not.’ “You want me, a broke college student, to drop out of college with you, another broke college student, to start a company which you have no plan for?”

“Hold on,” Reggie said defensively, sitting up so he and Alex were face to face. “I totally have a plan.” 

Alex’s mouth went dry as Reggie put his face so close to his own, his field of vision narrowing to dark green eyes and lips stretched into a crooked grin. All he would have to do to close the gap would be to lean forward just a couple inches—

“Prove it,” Alex teased, mentally chasing the thoughts from his head as he gently pushed Reggie further away. He had gotten good at ignoring those kinds of thoughts the past couple months.

Reggie stood with exaggerated showmanship. “Well, I am so glad that you asked.” He grabbed the flannel from his waist, tied it around his neck like a really crappy cape, and struck a dramatic pose. “Are you ready for this awesome?” He asked with mock seriousness.

Dork, Alex thought to himself. “By all means Reginald. Blow me away.” Reggie opened his mouth and Alex just knew he was going to hear the biggest load of bullshit ever.

“Well, my slightly taller friend, have you ever been walking down the street and realized that if you didn’t get a hotdog in the next ten minutes you would die?’”

“No.” 

“Have you been looking for an easy way to get meals while on a long car trip that doesn't involve stopping at a restaurant?”

“Still no.”

“Have you ever wondered if you were getting the most out of your vehicle?”

“I don’t have a car Reg,” Alex reminded him. Where was he going with this?

“Well,” Reggie drove forward undeterred, “have I got news for you. Now introducing…” Reggie paused his theatrics to look over at Alex expectantly, “little help?” Alex rolled his eyes and began to give a drumroll with his feet. “Now introducing… the hot dog engine!” 

Alex snorted. “The what?”

“The hot dog engine!” Reggie said excitedly. “On the outside, a regular car. But when you pop open the hood, BAM!” Reggie loudly clapped his hands together, “a hot dog cooker right next to your engine, powered by the same battery!”

Alex started laughing at that. “Reggie, that is so dangerous. You could get oil or battery acid on the hot dogs which would kill you.”

Reggie gasped in offense, “where is your sense of adventure?”

“Must have lost it when I lived past the ripe old age of 18,” Alex said back dryly.

Reggie huffed before readapting his dramatic businessman persona. “Well not to worry, I have plenty more where that came from.”

“Oh goodness please no,” Alex said in mock horror.

“Leashes for fish,” Reggie shot out.

“Useless”

“Crocs that smell like pumpkin spice.”

“Who’s purposely gonna smell them?”

“Pet rocks.”

“Already done.”

“Umbrellas for your shoes,”

“What’s with you and feet?”

Reggie choked on a laugh and stared at him for a moment. Alex was definitely amused by this whole conversation, but if Reggie kept staring at him and saying stupid things that made him laugh they were gonna have a problem. He needed to shut Reggie up somehow.

His friend opened his mouth to suggest his next ridiculous idea, “what about an air cannon that blows out candles for you—hmph!”

The tiny ‘hmph’ of surprise was because Alex had figured how to shut him up, by launching himself across the room and pressing their lips together.

Oh god, Alex thought to himself the moment he realized he was kissing him. He pulled away, stepping back to look at Reggie who was staring at him wide-eyed, frozen in shock. Oh crap, oh god. What did I do? He’s gonna freak out he's gonna hate me he’s gonna—

“Well that just gave me a great idea,” Reggie cut through Alex’s train of thoughts.

“R-Reggie I’m so sorry,” Alex quickly stammered out his apology. 

“Alex—” Reggie tried to speak.

“I shouldn’t have just kissed you like that. I know you and Flynn just started having a thing and that you don’t like me that way—”

“ALEX,” Reggie said more forcefully. Alex stopped his rambling and stared up at his friend anxiously. Reggie took a deep breath, “my idea was that you could just bring your boyfriend to lecture to show Professor Covington you aren’t interested in him.”

That didn’t make sense, “who’s my boyfriend?”

“Well me, if you stop freaking out long enough to kiss me again.” Reggie’s face turned bright red as he processed what he said. “I-I mean if you want to. You don’t gotta um…” 

Alex felt the wide smile on his own face as he processed what Reggie was saying. He reached out and interlocked their fingers together. “Can I kiss you again Reggie?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

The second kiss was so much better than the first. The soft press of Reggie’s lips against his own made the butterflies he had been trying to digest for months fly around his chest for free. The hand that wasn’t holding Reggie’s moved up to cup the back of his head.

Eventually, Reggie pulled away, his breath was a little quicker than before and his cheeks were flushed. Alex felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest with anxiety and excitement. 

“I should probably tell you that I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Reggie laughed.

“Oh,” Alex felt the tips of his ears burn. “Yeah. Uh, yeah. I mean, me too.” 

The answering smile from the boy in front of him was blinding. “Oh nice, does that mean I can be your boyfriend and make Professor Covington jealous?”

“You do know professor Covington just hates me cause he hates everyone right?”

“Alex,” Reggie huffed in annoyance, “you’re ruining the moment.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Yes, you can be my boyfriend.”

Leaning in for their third kiss was Reggie’s response to that statement, and it was even better than the second.

Then the fourth which was better than the third. Then the fifth that was better than the sixth and so on until they both eventually lost count.

[justgillespie]

Missing (4/?)

Summary: Your next door neighbor, Luke Patterson (a.k.a. your longtime crush) has gone missing, and you think you could help finding him.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: None!

Part 5

•

As soon as you both finished eating, she took you to his room.

It felt weird to you to see the rest of the room you couldn’t visualize from your window. You could finally see some furniture and more posters.

“I promise I won’t go off limits, Mrs. Patterson.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry. As I said, this is a pretty special situation. Just call me if you need anything.”

That took you off guard. You didn’t actually think she would leave you by yourself.

“Thank you, again.” You said before she left.

You looked around for a moment, and giggled.

You couldn’t believe you were there. You made it.

You looked at your window room from there, and couldn’t help but think that just a few hours ago, you were there trying to figure out how to get to Luke’s room. Max would not believe this.

You started going through some notebooks found on a desk. Maybe one of those had some information about the band. But you didn’t find anything relevant. If there was something, you couldn’t really tell. He had horrible handwriting. You did notice signatures from the other band members. Mostly Alex and Reggie’s, but nothing else.

You moved on to check the desk drawers. You found a polaroid picture. He was there, with three other boys.

You opened your eyes wide. The band. They had to be the rest of the band. Of course, you didn’t know for sure, but you had a good feeling. You grabbed the picture. You would ask Mrs. Patterson if you could take it with you.

You then stood in front of his closet, thinking whether or not to go through it too. You decided to open it and give it a quick glance. Not touching anything, just looking at it.

And so you did.

You opened it and noticed that it was practically empty. A couple of jackets were hanging inside and a single flannel shirt. But you thought it was impossible for him to take every piece of clothing he owned. If he ran away on his bike, as his mom told yours, than he must’ve taken a simple backpack with him. Something easy to carry.

Just to take away the doubt, you checked the drawers and indeed, there were several shirts and pants in there, perfectly folded. You closed those and finally went up to that one poster you were so familiar with at this point. But there really wasn’t any more information besides the band’s name.

You then checked his night stand and, besides a lamp, the only thing that you found was a guitar pick. It was white, and it had the letters SC written on black. You took it and then, giving the room a last look, you left to meet Mrs. Patterson in the living room. You showed her the polaroid you found and told her that you suspected they could be Luke’s bandmates. You asked if you could take it and she said yes.

“I also found this guitar pick? I think he might’ve forgotten when he... left. I just thought that maybe I could take it with me just so when I find him I can give it back.”

You noticed the conviction in your voice, and by the sweet smile Mrs. Patterson gave you, you could tell she did too.

“Of course. Take it.”

“Thank you.”

Before leaving, you and Emily ate a couple of the cookies she baked while you were up in Luke’s room.

“Take care.” You said to her on the door, when she gave you a hug.

“You too, sweetie.”

“I promise to come visit you more often.”

“I’ll be waiting for you. I repeat, you’re always welcome.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, too.” You both released from the hug and you were already walking away when she called you again.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You turned to see her.

“You’re a really nice girl. I think you and Luke would get along perfectly.”

•

Tamra got home first, as usual, and she parked her car in the garage. As you thought she would. Which was the reason that made you leave her a note on the fridge. You decided to wait for Max in front of his house, on his steps.

His mom, Mrs. Miers, invited you to come inside but you told her you would just wait for Max there. She tried to convince you otherwise but you insisted, so she asked you to at least accept a glass of lemonade.

You emptied the glass just when Max was arriving.

“Hey! How did it go?” You rapidly got up on your feet and walked to him.

“Well, hello, I’m fine, thanks.” He rolled his eyes.

“Hi. So?!”

He sighed. “I did it. I talked to people... kind of.”

“What do you mean kind of?”

“Well... I asked my friend Ian to do the talking. I went with him, but he was the one doing the questions.”

“But you got information?”

“Yes- Ow!“

You squealed and hugged him, just like you did that morning.

“Hey, calm down, it’s nothing much, really...”

“It doesn’t matter. You got something, I’m so proud of you!”

“Don’t exaggerate.” He rolled his eyes, but smiled.

“I got something too, actually.”

“Let’s go inside.”

Max guided you to his living room, inside his house.

“You go first.” He said and you obeyed, since your information wasn’t much relevant.

“So first of all, I got into Luke’s room.”

“What?! Without asking?!”

“Obviously.” You said sarcastically and rolled your eyes. “Obviously not. I had lunch with Mrs. Patterson at her house today. We were just talking and I asked her if I could go check it out and she said yes... But I didn’t get much. Just this picture... I was wondering if you recognize them.”

He took the polaroid. “Yes! They are the guys. This is Reggie, Alex and Bobby.”

After all these days, you could finally give those names some faces.

“Great! Besides that, there weren’t any other clues. So what about you? What did you find out?”

You decided to not tell him about the guitar pick. It was something you would save for yourself.

“They practice at Bobby’s garage.”

“Do you know where he lives?”

“Well... no. Look, we were trying to be subtle since Bobby, Alex and Reggie went to school today. I honestly think they might know where Luke is. But they wouldn’t say anything. Today at school they were called by the principal. We supposed it was to ask them about Luke... My point is, we tried not to ask too personal questions in case they found out what we were doing.”

You wanted to protest but of course, Max had a point. If they were covering Luke, they were going to do anything to keep his location a secret.

“But I thought you guys weren’t classmates. You and the other guys.”

“We aren’t. Ian is. I mean, Ian has french with them.”

You nodded slowly.

“Oh, we also found out Amy’s mom is friends with Alex’s mom? From some pilates class... maybe it was yoga. I don’t know.”

“Amy? Amy our neighbor? That Amy?”

Max chuckled. “Yeah. Amy Campbell. Ian was actually the one who provided me that information. He and Amy’s older brother go to karate together.”

“Tomorrow is Amy’s birthday party! Do you think... Alex might go?”

“I doubt it. As far as Ian told me, Amy and Brandon never actually got to meet Alex... You’re going to Amy’s party?”

“Yeah. I already told her I would. You?”

“I told her I wouldn’t.”

“Max!”

“What? I don’t wanna go. At parties I usually just sit all night, eat and sing if I know the songs.”

“Come on, let’s gooo.” You insisted. “This isn’t a normal party, it’s a pool party!”

“Why do you want me to go? You’ll probably just leave me on my own anyways to talk to the rest.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t play the victim. I’ll drag you with me everywhere okay? Come on, what if Alex shows up after all? We don’t know, this could be good! Even if nothing happens, then it could be fun to distract ourselves for a bit. Please.”

He sighed and stared at you for a second before groaning. “Fine, fine. I’ll go.”

“Yay! I promise it’ll be worth it.”

You then said goodbye and went to your house.

After saying hi to your family, you rapidly went up to your room to get ready for your dance class.

“How was everything today, honey?”

Your mom asked you, later at dinner.

“I called Mrs. Patterson a while ago and she was so happy you went. She told me you two had fun together.”

You smiled. “We did. I’m planning on visiting her more often.”

“That’s a great idea.” She smiled back.

“Do you girls have any plans this weekend?” Your dad asked.

“I actually... Wanted to ask you something.” Tamra asked, and she seemed nervous. Which was rare to see.

“Sure baby, what is it?” Your mom said.

“What do you guys think if I bring Tyler for dinner, on Sunday?”

You heard how your dad dropped his fork and knife on his plate, while your mom clapped and you looked at your sister, surprised.

“Really? Is it that official?” You asked.

“Shut up.”

Tamra never actually brought any of her boyfriends to the house, for some reason. You were the only one that met them since they usually were guys from school. One time, she even dated a guy from your dance studio, who was her age.

This time, though, you never met him. You only knew he existed because she announced it to all of you at dinner once.

“Oh, Tamra! We’re so glad to finally meet him! I am so excited! What should I cook?”

“This counts as a special occasion, so we need dessert. Does he like cheesecake?” You said, excited too.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Dad!”

“David!”

You, Tamra and your mom complained at the same time.

“I’m just saying, honey, aren’t you too young for boyfriends?”

You rolled your eyes. “Dad, she’s eighteen. Leave her alone.”

“Well, she’s still my daughter. I think I have a say on this.”

“We’re discussing this later.” Your mom stopped. She faced you. “What about you, Y/N, do you have any other plans?”

“Actually, yes. Tomorrow is Amy’s birthday party. It’s a pool party. I was wondering if I could go?”

“I don’t see why not.” She looked at your father and he nodded approvingly too.

You clapped. “Perfect! Thank you.”

Later in your room, you took the polaroid and the guitar pick and checked them carefully. You saved them in your night stand before leaving to dance.

Luke was smiling in that picture, just like in any other you had the opportunity to see at his house.

You sighed. You really hoped he was okay.

The idea of Bobby, Alex and Reggie knowing where he is, really made you hopeful.

“Hey” Someone said, entering your room.

You knew it was Tamra way before you looked up to see her. She never knocks, so it was easy to tell when it was her coming to your room.

“Hey” You smiled at her. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I just... I came to tell you what happened.”

After you came up to your room, you knew Tamra stayed longer because your dad wanted to talk to her.

She sat on your bed, next to you.

“What did dad tell you?” You asked.

“Oh, you know. He started with this big speech about growing up, and that I should be careful, and stuff like that. But then he started started being emotional and said that he was afraid of me leaving the house or change my plans for college and other stuff.”

You frowned and then giggled. “He’s so dramatic.”

“I know. I won’t throw away everything I’ve planned for years just for a boy I’ve been dating for two months.”

“Not any boy, I can see.”

She rolled her eyes but blushed. “Anyways, dad also said he was happy for me and that I would always be his baby.” She said like bragging, with a shrug.

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Childish. Now, tell me, where is this Tyler from, anyways?”

“I met him at The Drop.”

It was a caffe near your dance studio. It had a mini library with books you could read while enjoying any kind of drink or food. You two would go there after class sometimes, or when your classes aren’t too long, she would wait for you there.

“It was a few weeks before we moved. You actually know him. He’s the barista.”

“Wait, that Tyler?! Are you serious?!”

You knew something was going on. He would always give dreamy looks to your sister and would talk different to her. You told her so, every time you noticed but she would just wave it off saying you were just imagining things.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” You said, a little hurt.

“I don’t know. Things were different with him. I was... scared. Of you not liking him, or something.” She admitted. And you knew that was a big deal. Just by the fact that she was showing her vulnerability, (which she barely ever showed to anyone), you knew she felt something strong for this guy.

“Really?” You asked, a little confused and flattered.

“Yeah. I’m actually terrified now. For the dinner. I really want you all to like him.”

“I’m sure we will.” You assured her. “Tamra I’m really, really happy for you.”

She smiled and hugged you. Tamra was almost never affectionate either, but when she was, you really appreciate it.

She stayed a little longer with you and you two chatted for a while until she went to bed and left you alone with the polaroid and the guitar pick again.

You really hoped you could get to something this weekend.

•

Taglist: @ifilwtmfc @sovereignparker @catbcyluke @marvelgirl300 @charlieschickens @kegkingbillyhargrove @differentsoulrascalsalad @imamysticalwitch @viamiasoncrack @sunnyrye

*The ones crossed out are the ones that I wasn’t able to tag! (Sorry!)

[littlemissaddict]

Prom?

A/n: Picture is not mine, I was sent it and asked if I could write a short something based off of it, so here it is. I hope you like it and I'm sorry it took so long.

Word Count: 1164

“Ow Julie, what are- oh” Flynn gasps trying to loosen Julie’s grip on her wrist until she sees exactly what's gotten her friend so worked up. There stood in the centre of the room was Nick with his arm wrapped around Carrie’s shoulder as they laughed, looking very much like they were back together.

Only hours earlier Nick had asked Julie to the prom which Flynn thought was a bit suspicious that he had left it that late to ask but she said nothing when she saw how happy her best friend was. Now though she had wished she mentioned her suspicions to Julie not that it would have changed anything and told you so’s weren’t going to make her feel any better. Flynn sighs, giving Julie’s hand a comforting squeeze and pulling her away from the doors and out of sight of Nick.

“I know you don’t want to hear this but you don’t need him Jules. You’re smart, talented and the kindest person I know” she says and Julie gives her a small smile “There’s that smile now come on we came to have fun and that’s what we’re going to do” she smiles pulling Julie to dance. It doesn’t take long before Julie’s smiling and laughing again no longer thinking about Nick and Flynn’s relieved that she’s having a good time after the rocky start to the evening.

That’s until she leaves her for a few minutes while she goes to the bathroom. When she comes back Julie’s eyes are glossy and the smile has fallen from her face. “I’ve called dad, he's coming to get me” she says pushing past Flynn and heading towards the exit. Flynn follows waiting with her until Ray pulls up and Julie promises to call her.

Julie’s quiet on the car ride home even despite Ray’s attempts to get her to talk and as soon as they pull up at home Julie’s out of the car. She heads straight up to her room and throws herself on her bed, curling up into a ball, face buried in her pillow. She’s annoyed that she’s let herself get upset over Nick and she knows that Flynn is right she doesn’t need him but it still hurts that he’s completely stood her up and gone running back to Carrie after he told her that it was over.

Sighing, she sits up unsure of how long she’d been laid there wallowing in her own self pity and she’s about to check when she hears a knock on her bedroom door.

“Yeah” she calls as Reggie’s head pops through the door, he comes into the room followed by Alex and at this point she’s surprised that Luke’s not there as well but she doesn’t say anything as the two boys cautiously sit themselves down on the end of her bed.

“Your home early” Reggie says, causing Alex to roll his eyes, way to point out the obvious dumbass, he thinks.

“We heard your dad telling Carlos that he was going to pick you up and that you were upset so we wanted to come see how you were” Alex explains.

“I’m fine, it’s nothing really just something silly that really shouldn’t upset me” Julie says because she knows it’s true. Alex nods and Julie knows that he understands what she means as in the time she’s known the boys, she’s learnt about his struggles with anxiety and how he manages to work himself up over the smallest of things that end up working themselves out in the end just like she knows this little problem will work itself out as well.

“Was it Nick?” Reggie asks quietly looking up from where he’d been fidgeting with his hands and Julie gives him a small smile as she nods. The boys had overheard her and Flynn talking after school when she had come round to get ready for the prom and Luke had given her a look that she was not sure what it meant but she knew he wasn’t happy about her going to prom with Nick. Since the night after the Orpheum, their relationship had gotten surprisingly more complicated especially now that they were able to touch each other but she was glad he wasn’t here right now to learn that it was Nick that had upset her as he would definitely have something to say. She’d probably hear it late though because no doubt either Reggie or Alex would tell him.

“Anyway we didn’t just come here to see how you were, we uh we have a surprise for you in the studio” Alex winks, like actually winks and Julie doesn’t know if she imagined it or not until the boys start laughing clearly at the look of shock on her face. They both stand, each reaching out a hand to Julie to pull her up from the bed and urge her to go see. 

Julie makes it down to the studio but from outside it looks dark. She’s confused but she rests a hand on the door and opens it gently. She gasps slightly when she takes in the studio. Someone, she’s guessing the boys, have decorated it with more fairy lights that give off a soft glow in the room which has been cleared of the coffee table and the instruments to open the space up and there in the centre was Luke. A smile, the first genuinely happy smile that she’s had all night, works its way onto her face when she takes in his appearance, he’s wearing a white dress shirt that’s slightly unbuttoned with black dress pants and matching jacket but on his feet he’s still wearing his trainers. Julie can’t help the giggle that bubbles up inside of her, it's ridiculous but completely Luke and she wouldn't have it any other way.

“Did you do this?” she asks, making her way towards him.

“The guys helped” he shrugs and Julie makes a mental note to thank them later. “Do you like it?” Luke asks, getting her attention again.

“Luke it’s perfect, thank you.” Julie thinks she can see a slight blush on Luke’s cheeks but she’s not sure if it’s just the lighting but it’s exciting all the same. Then he’s surprising her offering her his hand and bowing slightly but making sure to over exaggerate his movements.

“Can I have this dance?”

“Of course but there is no music” Julie giggles, playing along and bowing back before taking his hand. Luke points his free hand towards the stereo and it bursts into life as music begins to play, Julie’s shocked “That’s new” she says raising her eyebrows at him in question.

“Yeah Willie taught us a few things” he smiles as Julie steps forward, pressing against him as they begin to sway back and forth to the music. She hums in response thinking about how perfect the night turned out to be and how she got everything she wanted including the boy.

[phantom-sunset]

Thank yo so much to @screwunsaidemily​ for putting this gift exchange together.

This one is for @penguin-writes-books and is inspired by the above song

Titled: Polaroid

Rated: T

Ship: Willex

Alex has been distant recently, It wasn’t anything they had done. It was his family. His parents, to be more specific. He had finally come out to them and well...it didn’t go well. They’d stopped speaking to him completely and when he was home, pretended he wasn’t even there. His mother looked through him and his father never stayed in the same room if he was there. Alex could feel it was only a matter of time until they kicked him out completely.

Julie hadn’t joined in the anxiety party Luke and Reggie were throwing for Alex but instead patiently waited. She had an idea, she always knew when one of her boys wasn’t okay. She never pushed though, and instead waited for them to be ready to come to her.

Ray was waiting as well. Both he and Julie, and maybe Carlos too, had an idea of what was going on. Ray had already gotten their second guest room ready for Alex, for when he was ready to open up to them. When he was ready to live his life completely out in the open. Ray had hung a rainbow flag off of the porch, just a little outward sign that Alex was safe and welcome in his home, that all of them were.

Reggie had come to move in with them when he had come over with cuts and bruises littering his body. That time Julie did not wait. She went to Ray and together they went to Reggie’s house, packed his things and brought him back to his new home. That was four years ago, when Reg was only thirteen.

Luke was a different story all together. When he began to get quiet and his energy seemed to diminish, they all noticed. Reggie and Alex had bothered him until he spilled everything. Julie had waited instead. She sat next to him quietly, worked on music to distract him. Held his hand when he cried on her shoulder. Played big spoon to his little when all he wanted was to feel loved and safe.

When Luke had finally let her in, she walked right up to his parents house the next day after school and refused to leave until they sat down and watched the entire video history of Julie and the Phantoms YouTube page. She sat there for hours until they admitted that their son was full of talent and that instead of forcing him into an engineering degree that would absolutely destroy his spirit, they should support his music major.

They had agreed when Julie sat quietly on their couch and simply stared at them expectantly without blinking. She might only be seventeen but she was scary when she needed to be, Rose had made sure of it. 

                                       ___________________________

Alex really wants to stay home tonight. He’s not really in the mood to see anyone but none of his friends would allow it. He was pretty sure that the moment he came home today, his parents would kick him out. It was getting pretty blatant. If they didn’t do it, he was going to at least.

Julie hadn’t joined in the anxiety surrounding Alex like the boys had. Instead she convinced him that one night out wouldn’t kill him, adding on that if he got too anxious they’d leave straight away. 

Julie knew that Alex definitely wasn’t ok but she knew it was a matter of time before he spilled his soul to her. It’s just how they’d always been, since they were kids.

Carrie is having her annual Valentines Day party tonight. Flynn’s cousin is in town touring UCLA for the week. He’s planning on starting in September. He is super cute and extremely Alex’s type.

So Julie is planning a secret set up. Alex has no idea but she’d let Flynn, Reggie, and Luke in on the plan. She was still shocked no one had told him about it but counted it as a win. One fourth of her best friends deserved a distraction and boy was Willie the perfect one.

“Are you guys ready?” Julie said as she walked into the studio that had somehow unofficially become the boys home. Even though Ray had made sure they all had their own space in his house.

Reggie was pulling a bright red shirt over his head, his black ripped jeans and combat boots already on, his leather jacket hanging lovingly over the back of a chair.

Luke was pulling on a white tee with “My Bloody Valentine” printed across it, a butcher knife dripping blood cut through the print. “Cute” she says to him as she takes in the shirt. She isn’t just talking about the shirt and he knows it but he smirks at her and winks. She rolls her eyes and turns to Alex.

He’s wearing a baby pink t-shirt and light colored blue jeans. His black and pink air maxes complete the look.

“No. But I doubt you’ll let me sit this one out.” Alex answers her question.

“You’re right. Let’s go, the Uber's here.” Julie puts her arm through his, pulls him towards Reggie where she loops her other arm and waits for Reggie to thread his arm through Luke’s. They skip down the driveway, Luke’s humming ‘We’re off to see the Wizard’ as they go.

When they pull up to Carrie’s it’s jam packed. Parents dropping their kids off, Uber’s dropping off their riders, and a lone skateboarder, weaving between bodies like he’s made of air. Julie smiles because she’d recognize that long brown hair anywhere. The guy hasn’t cut his hair since elementary school.

As they walk in, there’s staff dressed in red and white handing out brand new polaroid cameras to each guest as they come in. “To save the memories being made here.” He says to them. 

“Obnoxious, isn’t it? All that money and we get outdated cameras” Flynn says from Alex’s side. He jumps up, startled at her sudden appearance.

“Fucking hell, Flynn. Stop doing that!” Alex hisses. 

“Why? It’s so much more fun when you react like that.” She answers. Julie, Luke and Reggie snicker from behind him.

“Anyway. This is my cousin Willie. Willie This is Luke, Reggie, and Alex. You already know Julie.” She says, pointing them out individually.

“Nice to meet you.” Luke says as he holds his hand out. Reggie echoes him and Julie smiles and goes in for a hug.

Alex hasn’t moved yet. He’s just standing there, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as he takes in Willie. He’s cute as hell and taller than Alex which was saying something. His cheekbones reach for the sky, and a jawline that should be illegal. He’s smiling at Alex, holding out his hand to shake and oh god, this was embarrassing. How long has he been waiting for Alex to move? How long has Alex been staring at him like a deer in headlights?

“The malfunctioning one is Alex. Give him a minute, he’ll be right with you.” Reggie said as he tears open his Poloroid camera. He turns to Luke who has his arm around Julie and is busy whispering her ear and snaps a picture.

“Shut up, Reg.” Alex clears his throat and offers up his hand, finally. He’s willing the blush on his cheeks to retreat, it doesn’t.

“So, I’m thirsty. Let’s go get some drinks?” Flynn says, grabbing Reggie’s hand and pulling him. He grabs on to Luke’s shirt who grabs onto Julie’s arm and their little chain disappears into the crowd at the speed of light.

“So, they’re not nearly as sneaky as they think they are.” Willie says. A wide smile stretching over his face. 

God, he’s teeth are so nice. White and straight. He probably never even needed braces. Alex shakes his head to clear his thoughts and realises Willie is speaking to him.

“Huh?” God, he probably sounds like an idiot. Way to make an impression.

“Your friends, my cousin. They’re setting us up.” Alex chokes on his own spit. Were they?

He turns towards the bar where his friends are standing. All four of them are watching him and he narrows his eyes. Reggie salutes him. Luke gives him a bouncy thumbs up. Julie and Flynn are batting their eyes and drawing little hearts in the air in front of them, their lips puckered in exaggerated kisses.

Alex rolls his eyes and turns back to Willie who had followed his line of sight and promptly burst out laughing.

“Wanna head outside? It’s super noisy in here and something tells me they won’t come back until we’ve gotten to know each other properly.” Willie suggests and Alex nods his agreement.

They end up spending an hour together. Alex lets Willie go first and everything he learns makes him like Willie more. He’s about to start college, UCLA is his first choice and he’s already been accepted. He’s going to be moving in with his uncle Robert (Flynn’s dad). The tour was an excuse to come to LA in order to see his family.

He’s from San Francisco, and is majoring in art. He’s sold his work in different galleries since he was fifteen. His mom calls him a prodigy but he just thinks he sees the beauty in things others don’t. He paints, sculpts, and does photography mostly but otherwise dabbles in everything.

Alex tells him about himself. He’s in a band. All four of them have also applied to UCLA for music majors. They’re going on tour over the summer, down the pacific coast. He tells Willie about the time Reggie and Luke convinced him to eat engine hotdogs and they all ended up in the hospital with food poisoning. Willie found that story hysterical.

It’s as Willie searches up the Julie and the Phantoms YouTube page to watch clips of their performances that he notices something and interrupts Alex’s story about how annoying Julie and Luke are in their mutual stupidity when it comes to their feelings for each other.

“Hey, do you mind if I take a picture of you?” Willie asks as he pulls the camera up to his eye.

“Only if I can take one of you.” Alex answers. It came out faster than his brain could process. Braver and flirtier than he intended but he let the question hang.

“Sure, hotdog! As many as you want.” He winks and smiles at Alex and snaps the picture. 

The little rectangle comes out of the side of the camera and Willie is shaking it and still smiling at Alex as he snaps his picture. They're both shaking the film to let it develop and laughing at the thought of people only ever having to do this for their pictures.

“God, how did people survive in the 90s?” Willie asks.

“Right? Like they had to carry around separate things for everything. Music, cameras, phones, planners. The bags must have been huge!” Alex answers and they laugh again.

Willie reaches into his pocket and pulls out a sharpie, he grabs the picture of him from Alex’s hand and writes something on the white border. When he hands it back, Alex’s face turns red yet again.

                                        Willie C. - 2.14.2021 🖤

Alex decides to do the same and grabs his own picture from Willie's hand, writing his own down too before handing it back.

                                        Alex M. - 2.14.2021 🖤

They end up staying outside and completely missing Dirty Candi’s performance along with the rest of the party. Neither one is sure exactly how long it's been but Willie’s phone chimes and he looks down at it, startled.

“It’s Flynn. Wow, it’s midnight already? Looks like we gotta go. This was perfect, thanks for hanging out with me all night.” Willie says and Alex smiles at him.

“Yeah, I had a great time.” Alex answers as they both stand up. Willie turns to walk away but only makes it a few steps before he turns back to Alex.

“Can I kiss you?” Willie asks when he’s in front of Alex again. Alex freezes in response. He can’t do anything but nod because Fuck, he’s wanted to kiss him all night.

Willie laughs softly and puts both of his hands on Alex’s face and pulls him forward. It’s soft and sweet. Willie’s lips feel like cashmere and he smells like pine trees and coconut. The scent makes Alex light headed but he refuses to pull away until Willie makes the move to. Unfortunately it’s way too soon when he does.

“Thanks.” Willie turns and starts walking away again, leaving Alex to try and stop his brain leaking out of his ears since it’s now turned to mush.

“Wait! Can I have your number?” Alex shouts to him as he leaves. Willie turns, walking backwards as he shakes his head. The wide smile is still plastered on his face.

“Nah. It’s more fun this way, hotdog.” Willie answers, holding up the picture he’d taken of Alex. 

“I hate that name! It’s how I almost died!” Alex shouts to him. Willie’s loud laugh lingers in the air around Alex long after he’s gone.

“Well well well, if it isn’t Alex C. Mercer. The boy who hasn’t been seen all night.” Reggie says as he throws himself down in the lounger next to him.

“Well, as setups go, I’d call this one a success.” Luke says from his other side.

“I definitely saw some flirting there.” Julie says as she sits down between Luke’s legs.

“How would you know? It’s not like either of you knows what flirting is.” Alex smirks at the two of them. 

Reggie’s snickers come from behind Alex and makes it difficult to keep a straight face. Luke rolls his eyes and leans his head back, pulling Julie back with him so that her back rests against his chest. Julie punches Alex in the shoulder and sticks her tongue out at him.

                                   _________________________________

It’s a week before classes start at UCLA and Julie, Luke Alex, and Reggie are enjoying being back. In their own homes, in their own beds (Alex’s happens to be at Julie’s house now). They decide to go to the beach and invite Flynn along. 

Alex hasn’t mentioned Willie since valentines day and no ones brought it up. After all, he’s six hours away and had never given Alex his phone number. Sure, Alex had gone full FBI and found his Instagram page but it was private and Alex had never worked up the nerve to request him.

He thinks about him a lot though. Looks at the picture in his wallet more than he’d ever admit. He doesn’t have to come out and say it to anyone though because they’ve all caught him with it. Julie just smiled sweetly and left it alone. Unfortunately, Luke and Reggie are assholes so they bring it up all the time.

So here they are, spread out on the beach and Alex is getting thirsty. They’ve been here for a few hours and whatever supplies they’ve brought have been depleted.

“Hey, I’m gonna go grab some drinks. If you freeloaders want anything you’re going to have to come with.” Alex says as he stands up and slips his flip flops on.

“Rude.” Reggie says and stands up to go with him. Julie goes too and the three of them make it to the cement. Luke stays behind with Flynn to discuss album art concepts.

They stop to make sure someone actually had the money and when Reggie pulls out a soggy twenty that he had accidentally went swimming with, Julie laughs at him. Alex pulls out his own thankfully dry wallet.

“Watch out!” The voice comes from behind Alex but he doesn’t have time to move out of the way before something solid and strong slams into his back sending him sprawling face first into the sand.

“What the fuck?!” He yells as he spits sand out of his mouth and brushes it off of his body where it stuck painfully.

“Oh man, You dinged my board.” The voice comes from behind him again and he turns, fury burning in his veins.

“I dinged your board? You almost killed me!” Alex yells back. He doesn’t look up, examining his skinned knee.

“Yeah, I did pancake you, huh?” he’s laughing now and Alex stands up to give this guy a piece of his mind but his thoughts are cut off abruptly.

He can see Julie and Reggie out of the corner of his eye, smiling widely and snickering to each other. God, he hates them so much.

“Hotdog! Wow, long time.” He says. Alex’s brain has shut off though because wow he looks better than he did on valentines day.

His skin is sunkissed, his hair lightened by the sun, and he’s wearing a crop top that shows off his toned stomach. Alex traces the V as it disappears under his waistband. Someone pinches his elbow and he snaps out of it. Thank you, Julie. 

“Willie, hi! How have you been?” When had his voice gotten so squeaky?

“I’ve been good! Starting school next week. Just finished moving in yesterday. How about you?” He answers. Julie and Reggie have walked away to the beach bar.

“Just got back from touring last night. Now we’re here. Relaxing before school starts.” Alex waves his hand out, encompassing the beach and the general area where Flynn and Luke are bent over her phone.

“You know, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that party. Kind of the best kiss I’ve had.” Willie chuckles and bumps his shoulder against Alex’s.

“Tell me about it.” Alex pulls his wallet out as he speaks. Pulling out the picture from his wallet and showing it to Willie.

“No way!” That smile that Alex hasn’t stopped staring at is back as he pulls out his own wallet and shows Alex the picture. The ink is faded, as if he’d been running his fingers over the signed name. The corners are crinkled and Alex beams because his looks just as well loved.

“Wanna join us?” Alex asks and Willie nods and smiles in response.

“Hell yeah!” He takes off his helmet and picks up his skateboard, following Alex back to their spot. The thirst that had been drying his throat moments before is completely forgotten when Willie laces his fingers with Alex’s.

[captcas]

Screwed (A Destiel AU)

Screwed by capthamm (Part 1 of 2)

Dean inherits the old family inn and has to move home to fix it up for selling. When the work proves to be too much, he enlists in the town's only contractor's help– his neighbor, Castiel. Dean is short on time, stuck in a hometown riddled with old flames, and falling for the man who lives next door. He's screwed.

notes: I'm halfway through season 7 and missing Mr. Castiel on my screen so this poured out. I'm almost finished but here is part one. My first ever attempt in the Supernatural fan fiction world... please be kind. Thank to my lovely beta, Luke <3 (@bawley_bug) read on ao3

At this point, Dean’s left thumb had been hit by the hammer more than any of the nails and he was regretting every single choice he ever made that led him to this exact moment.

Why the fuck did he think he was cut out for restoring an inn? Not just any inn– the inn. The one John ran before he got too old and retired, eventually– well let’s just say Dean isn’t here out of any sort of living guilt.

Dean’s not sure why he’s here.

If he breaks it down, it’s because he received a letter in the mail exactly two months after the passing of his father detailing how Lawrence would have no choice but to tear down the old inn unless someone from his family claimed it.

Sam’s not going to leave his law practice and the life he built for Jess and the twins, out in California.

Dean’s the only one left.

So, taking things extremely literally, he’s here because a bunch of lawyers told him he needed to be.

Another slam into his thumb jolts his train of thought off its tracks and convinces him to pack it up for the night. He snaps the tools back into his massive toolkit and stands back to look at the old built-in shelves he decided would probably be the easiest to tackle on his own. Nodding at the good-enough outcome, he turns to scan the rest of the main floor.

Maybe the built-ins are the only thing he’s going to be able to do alone.

Dean doesn’t like the thought of teamwork– especially not with the grumpy prick who lives next door. His neighbor stopped by the day Dean arrived because apparently it was John’s dying wish that their neighbor offer his services when his estranged son eventually showed up to fix the inn. (Leave it to his father to leave Dean feeling inadequate from the great beyond.)

“No, thank you.” “Excuse me?” “You offered, I’m declining. Debt, paid.”   "As you wish, Winchester.”   Even wrapped in the neighbor’s deep lumbering voice, Dean winces at his last name– it feels just as constricting as it did when he thought he’d be stuck in this town forever, “Dean.” “Whatever.”

Dean thought that’d be the last he’d see of the guy until he marched away and slammed the door just across the small garden. That house used to be for whatever innkeeper his parents had hired, but when the inn closed they rented it out to whichever soul felt like a one bedroom one bathroom home was enough to live in.

Apparently that was this asshole.

They’ve seen each other three more times since then, but never long enough to even exchange names. Dean isn’t sure why he’s keeping track– each time just as unpleasant as the first. Sure, Dean could’ve been friendlier, but warning bells rattled through him every time the neighbor’s stormy eyes met his. Dean may have sworn off unnecessary human interaction for the foreseeable future, but he’s not blind and his neighbor isn’t hard to look at.

But his life has no room for attractive neighbors with an attitude problem.

Convincing himself there must be someone else in this town who knows their way around a fixer upper, Dean heads to the Roadhouse for dinner and hopefully the name of someone else to help him get the inn fixed up enough to sell.

Walking through the front door of the restaurant-meets-dive-bar, the familiar smell hits him like a breath of fresh air. He can’t believe he held out for almost a week before eating here. The Roadhouse is one of the few places left in the town left untouched by rotten memories and painful nostalgia. Nothing but good ever happens once he crosses this threshold and it’s that fact that allows him to relax for the first time since moving back to Lawrence.

He starts to order his usual and Jo winks signaling she remembers even after all these years– Dean can’t believe she runs this on her own now. Jo always swore she’d get out of this town, break the chains of her mother’s legacy, but nevertheless here she is– here they both are.

Jo looks happy, maybe even at home– Dean? Not so much.

The plate drops in front of him and Dean catches his old friend lingering a bit. He looks up and says thank you and that was all it took to spark some small town gossip from Jo. While he didn’t come back to rekindle any old relationships– friendly or otherwise– Dean doesn’t mind her company and before he knows it he’s laughing and taking his last bite of burger. The conversation starts to die and Dean remembers why he came to town in the first place, “Oh! Jo, I meant to ask. I’m fixing up the old inn and I need help. Do you have the number of someone who–”

“Of course, Dean! Chuck retired, but Castiel took over, after Gabriel ran off to Thailand.” Dean raises his eyebrow and Jo laughs, “ That’s a story for another meal. Here,” she hands over a napkin with a number scrawled across it, “Castiel is the best in town and will fix up that inn in no time.”

Castiel.  

Dean racks his brain for any recollection of someone named Castiel from their childhood but the name doesn’t ring a bell— and a name like that definitely would ring a bell. He supposes people must move to Lawrence, just like any town, and resigns it to someone new since he left.

He can’t expect everything to stay the same while he spent the last 15 years trying to change in every way imaginable.

Thanking his friend for the help, Dean pays and heads home for the night. Finally having the name of someone to help has lifted a huge weight off his chest. He sighs as he crawls onto the old mattress in the first floor suite, thankful it’s dark enough that he can’t nitpick all that needs to be done. The sooner he can get the inn fixed up, the sooner he can sell it and go back to Sioux Falls and the life he chose rather than the one his parents forced on him.

Maybe it was the comfort of the Roadhouse or the knowledge that this process will move twice as fast with a little help, but Dean sleeps better that night than he has in years. When he wakes with the sun, he feels energized and ready to continue his work on his family’s property.

He decides to start with disassembling the kitchen cabinets and it doesn’t take long for him to find a rhythm in his work— four screws and a trip to the pile, four screws, trip to the pile. Lost in the easy monotony, Dean forgets his decision to call for help until late into the morning. Hoping to catch the contractor before lunch, he brushes the dust from his hands and digs in his pocket for the napkin Jo had written on last night.

He’s not sure why he feels so anxious as he waits for the man on the other end of the line to pick up, but he supposes it rests on the fact that this man only knows Dean by the reputation he left town with— John’s other son.

Sam was always the golden child— pretty blonde cheerleaders and a full-ride to Stanford are not even an exaggeration when it comes to his younger brother.

Dean, on the other hand, was always rough around the edges, emotional, and different — let’s just say he’d go for the cheerleader or the quarterback.

As soon as Dean was shoved out of the closet— his dad walking in on him and Benny not leaving very much up for debate— John shut him out completely. Dean brushed it off as his dad’s way of fighting every piece of homophobia he was raised with, but the fact is: it was more likely he was disgusted by his own son.

But that was ages ago and, from what Sam’s told him, John died swearing his love for both his boys.

Not that Sam would tell Dean otherwise.

“Hello?” A gruff voice breaks him out of his daze and he’s startled back to the present day.

“Uh, hi. Yeah, uh, is this Castiel?” It’s the first time Dean’s said the name aloud and he can’t help but notice how easily it rolls off his tongue.  

“This is. How can I help you?” The man is all business, clearly not as affected by Dean’s use of his name as Dean was.

“Oh yeah, uh, I got your name from Jo at the Roadhouse? My name is Dean Winchester and I’m fixing up the old Winchester Inn and I’m realizing the job may be too massive to handle on my own.” Dean winces at his blatant request for help, never one to ask outright for assistance, but as he looks at the pile of kitchen cabinets which need to be sanded, painted, and rehung, he knows he can’t do this alone. He realizes the man on the other end of the line hasn’t said anything when he continues, “Uh, that is if you have the bandwidth for that…”

Another pause before the man, Castiel, speaks again, “I can be right over.”

Dean didn’t really know how to respond, he was expecting to bargain for payment or at least for a delay in starting the project. He’s not used to this immediate willingness to help a complete stranger. He’s about to stumble through a response when he realizes Castiel is no longer on the other end of the phone. He shrugs, and sets it on the counter as there’s a knock on the door.

Shit. The only way Castiel could’ve gotten here that fast is if he’s...  

Dean opens the door to the man he’s now seen a mere four times despite his permanent residence on Dean’s property. His neighbor— Castiel— looks different today. The usual softness that accompanies the man overtaken by strong arms, an AC/DC t-shirt, and a tool belt placed perfectly on his hips.

Whoa, Dean.  

“Uh, hi?” Dean isn’t sure how one goes about re-introducing themselves to apparently the only help in town after being an ass before. But he’s here and Dean introduced himself on the phone and he still came.

“Hello.” The man– Castiel– greets Dean so matter of factly as he glances around Dean quizzically, presumably taking in the whole of the inn. Dean is a little taken aback by this whole interaction and the way it’s entirely different than any they’ve shared previously. Castiel’s eyes meet Dean’s and Dean can’t help but notice a hint of playfulness before Castiel speaks again, “So you do need help?”

Dean rolls his eyes and Castiel laughs sending a shockwave through Dean he hasn’t felt in ages. He promptly ignores it before motioning towards the foyer and inviting his new contractor inside. They don’t exchange any pleasantries, but rather head right to work. Castiel asks questions about everything from the crown molding and stair railing to Dean’s plan for the half shattered French doors.

The man is thorough and he knows his stuff.

Maybe teamwork with him won’t be so bad.

They finish their walk through and Dean is relieved to hear that Castiel agrees the upstairs mostly needs some fresh paint. John left some money to fix up the inn, but not enough for a total overhaul. After working through the budget, they decide it’ll be more cost effective if it retains its original charm.

“Well, Dean, I like what we’ve got here and I think we can make something out of this.” Castiel slouches into one of the bar stools near the kitchen island as he surveys the room one more time. Dean does his best not to notice the sweat slowly making its way down Castiel’s collar bone and beneath the collar of his t-shirt, and the way he says Dean, and his implication that this is theirs . Dean hasn’t shared anything for most of his adult life– mostly because he hasn’t had anyone worth sharing something with.

But this inn feels like it’s meant to be shared, and Dean can’t seem to find any reason not to do so with Castiel.

“I’m glad you think so. I suppose we should discuss payment…” Dean trails off as Castiel’s gaze becomes confused.

“I don’t intend on charging you a dime, Dean.” Castiel’s matter of fact smile returns and Dean can’t ignore the way his gut flutters.

He’s not a nun, Dean’s been attracted to people for as long as he can remember being alive. From Lucy Jones in kindergarten to a myriad of characters in his adult life, he’s always been a people person loaded with an innate attraction for the kind of itches you scratch and forget ever existed.

Castiel is beginning to feel like an itch he’d like to scratch.

But that’d ruin everything, especially Dean’s plan to sell the inn for as much as humanly possible and then get the hell outta dodge.

“I appreciate that, but I have to give you something…” Castiel waves Dean off and he realizes arguing would be useless. “Thanks.”

Castiel nods before taking time to study Dean until it almost feels awkward. Dean is typically the one doing the studying, and he feels naked under this man’s gaze. They remain in a silence delicately balanced between comfortable and awkward until Castiel speaks again, “Well, best I get back to my place. I will see you tomorrow morning, Dean.”

As Castiel stands, he adjusts the toolbelt around his waist and Dean forces himself to look away, not willing to tempt himself with the flash of skin exposed during the adjustment. The contractor must notice because he smirks slightly before nodding his head in goodbye. If he didn’t know better, Dean would swear Castiel walks a bit closer to him than is necessary. He shakes it off before heading to the bathroom to shower off the grime of the day before checking in with Sam, Jess, and the kids.

. . .

They work surprisingly well together.

His new partner is a quiet but sturdy presence throughout the day– rarely chatting about more than the weather or whatever task needs to be done– but on occasion Dean will learn a bit more about him. He’s started to compile a list of Cas’s likes and dislikes– for example, Cas likes that Dean gave him a nickname.

“Hey, Cas, can you hand me the socket wrench?”   "Cas?” “Uh, yeah, short for Castiel. You got too many syllables, man.”

Cas nodded and moved on with the task, but Dean can’t help but notice the small smirk everytime he has to call Cas by name. Cas also smiles whenever a screw goes in without a fight and when the first raindrop of an impending storm hits his forehead.

Dean likes it when Cas smiles. (Apparently Dean’s compiled a list for that, too.)

He’s tried to largely ignore the growing attraction for the man he’s working with for more than eight hours a day, but it gets more difficult with each glance to make sure the other is still in one piece and every accidental touch of hands when they pass off a tool.

At least Dean tells himself it’s accidental.

He hadn’t gotten enough out of Cas to even know if he “plays for that team,” as Sam likes to say. Dean is almost positive John wouldn’t have encouraged the two work together if Cas is gay, but there are moments that give him more hope that he deserves.

“Dean!” Cas’s steady voice startles him from the monotony of painting kitchen cabinets and his overflowing thoughts.

He puts down the paintbrush and walks over to the fireplace where Cas is supposed to be sanding down the mantle, “Yeah, Cas, what is it?” There’s that smile– sometimes Dean wonders if he uses his nickname for Cas just to get a glimpse of it.

“I’m hungry and I’m out of sand paper.” Cas looks up from the stool he’s been sitting on for hours with a hint of puppy dog eyes. Dean isn’t exactly paying Cas so he could definitely come and go as he pleases, but they tend to stick to a similar schedule everyday. Checking his watch, Dean sees it is lunchtime and agrees to head into town for a sandwich.

“I should probably get cleaned up a bit…” Cas trails off as he surveys his dusty jeans and sweat drenched t-shirt. Without trying to, Dean gets lost in the unfairly attractive mess of it all for a moment too long. He looks up to speak again and Cas is smirking almost knowingly.

Shit.

“Yeah, sure. You can use the shower here if you want but no promise there’s any hot water.” Dean scratches behind his ear nervously. This wasn’t any sort of purposeful invitation, but he can’t help but feel a wad of want fall into his stomach. Cas simply nods his thanks before heading into the main floor bathroom with a change of clothes he brought “just in case”. Dean laughed when Cas told him that he’s always that prepared and cited the fact that Cas only lives thirty steps away from the inn. He simply shrugged and said “You never know” and that was the end of that. Dean supposes Cas was right and the change of clothes had come in handy.

Though, not exactly how Dean thought they would.

As he hears the shower turn on, Dean goes back to painting kitchen cabinets in hopes of distracting himself from the very attractive, very naked man that is showering in the next room. It works for a while but eventually the knowledge feels stifling and Dean decides to clean up quickly and wait for Cas on the porch.

“What’re you waiting out here for?” Cas walks outside, resting his arm on the doorframe to only accentuate his bicep muscles. Dean knows if he looks at what is probably disheveled and wet hair from the shower it’ll take every piece of willpower he has not to jump the guy right then and there.

“Let’s go.” He leads Cas to his car without looking in his direction or answering his question. As Dean walks around the back of the impala he sees Cas smirk again.

Bastard.

They take the short drive into town before stopping at the hardware store. Dean needs to pick up some new screws so he can finish the cabinets and Cas needs some more sand paper so they decide to split up and grab what they need. Cas cuts right, beelining for the aisle like he lives here– now that Dean thinks about it, Cas probably does come here a lot– and Dean wanders to the left looking for the screw aisle.

He ends up finding them along with a confused pre-teen boy comparing screw sizes to an outlet cover. Dean laughs to himself before offering his help, “Anything I can help with?”

The boy turns to Dean, startled at first, but then relaxing when he doesn’t sense any immediate threat, “Yeah, that’d be great. My mom sent me in here twenty minutes ago, but I don’t know anything about this stuff.”

Dean laughs, “Well, your Dad should’ve taught you screw shopping at the very least.”

“How could he do that when he doesn’t know I exist?” The kid says it so matter of factly, Dean isn’t even sure he heard him correctly. He scans him for signs of distress, but whatever therapy he’s getting must’ve worked because the kid goes back to comparing screws without missing a beat.

“Fair enough. Here, you’ll want these ones,” Dean grabs a four pack of the screws the kid is looking for and hands it to him. “Then you’ll have extras in case you need to replace another one.”  

“Awesome, thanks! My names–”

“Ben? What’s taking you–” Dean winces, he’d know that voice anywhere and the fact she paused means… “Dean?! What are you doing talking to… what’s going on here?”

“Mom!”

“Lisa…”

Ben (apparently) and Dean speak at the same time, both turning towards the woman Dean hasn’t thought about in years. They were something– more than something– for about a year, but John’s pressure pushed Dean out of town and Lisa refused to leave Lawrence... so now they're here, awkwardly looking at each other in a hardware store.

“Lisa, look, I can explain–”

“Dean, I found the sandpaper and I also grabbed some extra paint for that wall in the living–” Dean’s cut off as Cas rounds the corner looking down at the sandpaper packaging and clearly missing all the fun in aisle nine, “Oh. Hi!”

Then Cas waves , an adorable wave that if Dean wasn’t so goddamn turned around probably would’ve sent him spiraling. Dean facepalms to hide his smile and proceeds to rub his calloused hands through his hair trying to decide what to say next. But Ben must be oblivious to the absolute shit storm happening a foot above his current height because he chooses this moment to chime in, “I was confused about which screws to get and Dean offered to help, Mom. That’s all. And look,” Ben holds up the package Dean handed him what feels like an eternity ago, “Got ‘em!”

That kid just saved Dean’s ass.

Lisa still looks a little stunned to see Dean– his return had seemingly not reached the far ends of the town gossip chain quite yet– but then she glances back towards Cas… and then back to Dean.

He’s about to correct her when she surprises him with a hug.

They didn’t exactly end on bad terms, but he probably could’ve been nicer when he told her he was leaving.

Hence why the hug catches him off guard, as does what she quietly whispers in his ear, “I’m glad you found someone that makes you smile like that again.”

Dean can't even formulate a correction before Lisa’s telling Ben to thank Dean for his help and the pair is heading down the other end of the aisle. He turns towards Cas who is staring intensely at a speck on the floor by his feet, but seems to be smiling all the same.

Maybe Dean isn’t wrong about him.

They check out and head back to the Impala in silence. It isn’t until they get home after swinging through the drive thru that Dean even realizes he forgot to grab the screws.

[jae-writes-fanfiction]

Caviar and Cigarettes

Ashton x Reader  -  Collab Masterlist - 3763 Words - Part 1 of 1

Notes: this was written as part of a collab event as a gift for @mermaidcashton using a mix of their different suggested tropes but specifically ‘waking up in vegas.’ I hope you enjoy it ❤️ also I’ve never been to a casino I’m sorry this is 100% based off of what I know from TV

Warnings: mentions of alcohol/alcohol consumption, people are on a plane which could be scary, light nsfw content, some swearing.

- - -

The overhead compartments creaked as the plane rushed down the runway headed for liftoff. The sensation always sent a shiver down your spine and caused knots to grow in your stomach.

You hated flying and had everyone been back in LA instead of visiting the UK on a press tour, you would’ve opted to drive to Las Vegas from home and meet the boys there. Unfortunately for you, being their one-person PR/Social Media Management team placed you behind the scenes for the entire junket. And now, it placed you in the window seat of a plane preparing to hurtle dangerously through the sky- although your friendship with the bride-to-be was partly at fault.

Next to you, Ashton rolled his eyes as you gripped the armrest tightly. Across the aisle he watched Michael and Crystal giggle at something, and just ahead of them he could see Callum and Luke watching a movie on one of their phones.

He loved his friends and was beyond happy for Michael and Crystal but each of their small smiles and soft looks felt stifling and Ashton found himself wishing things could just be like when they were younger. Everything felt easier then, it was much more fun going on trips, there was less pressure to do or say the right thing or post the right statuses. They were just four friends making music. Now, everything was different including you.

You silenced your phone and offered Ashton a consolatory smile. “I know you’d rather be across the aisle,” you said glancing over at the others, “but let’s try to be friendly it’s a long flight.” There was a slight edge to your tone and it didn’t go unnoticed.

“You’re right dollface,” Ashton bit back, “I’d much rather be seated with my friends. Not our social media manager.”

You felt a warmth spread across your face as you tried to think of a smart response. Ashton has always been the most aloof of the four when you joined the behind the scenes team yet every conversation with him turned sour.

When you didn’t respond Ashton decided to keep going. “I mean I offense but how the hell are any of us supposed to relax when you’re here hovering around? This is supposed to be a party! A vacation! But you make it look like work.”

“That’s right Ash,” you said icily, “because I am working. I have to make sure none of you do anything stupid while you’re ‘having fun and letting loose’.”

And there you go, Ashton thought, like always making everything else difficult. Why couldn’t you just be agreeable?

“Besides,” you said interrupting his thoughts, “the last thing the group needs is more dating drama. Your last stint did enough damage.”

There. You said it, after weeks of thinking it you actually said it. You didn’t blame him for how the breakup went and for a while you were proud at how little attention Ashton gave to the fan speculation. But then he deleted all their pictures together and made a few (now long deleted) vague tweets that sent the fan base into a deadly spiral that spewed death threats at his ex and caused you more than enough sleepless nights.

You felt a little guilty when he didn’t respond with another jape- but who did he think he was anyway? Sure he was attractive but he couldn’t get away with everything. Not this time. Not after you had to stage and arrange posts for him every time he swapped partners.

You huffed and slipped your headphones in. There was no hope for pleasant conversation, and you had no desire to fill the time with mobile games. The audiobook claimed to calm and soothe the overworked professional with meditation and organization tips. Compared to the $350 plane fare the $25 download seemed like a reasonable and informative way to fill the ten-hour flight.

By the halfway mark you’d been proven wrong on both accounts. The narrator’s lilting accent was distracting in all the wrong ways, and the information sounded like every motivational speaker ever; all hype and no substance. Twice you felt your eyes drifting closed and twice you managed to snap yourself out of it. The third time however you didn’t snap back awake as your head lolled to the side.

The brush of your hair against his shoulder alerted Ashton to the situation. He chuckled lightly under his breath, for a moment you were at peace. For a moment you were someone he didn’t know, someone he might’ve liked to know better.

But moments don’t last forever, Ashton knew this to be true and before long the light jostling of the plane woke you up. You blinked slowly trying to adjust to the lights and grimaced as Ashton came into focus. The intensity of his gaze puzzled you. Was there something on your face? The expression was unconscious, but Ashton saw it flicker across your face and that stung. Not even away more than a minute and you were already getting to him.

Uninterested in having another quiet row like a soon-to-be-divorced couple, he quickly looked away leaving you once again to choose between silence and the droning audiobook as the plane crossed the Atlantic and then the entirety of the North American continent.

The sun had already set when the descent started. Outside you could see the world swathed in swatches of brilliant color and dazzling shapes against the horizon. It felt like your heart skipped a beat. The Vegas strip was everything you’d expected. The hotel itself looked like a work of abstract art, it’s glass elevators sparkling under the desert sunset.

Late dinner reservations had been made for the five of them, and you took the opportunity to settle into your room, eat an entire room service pizza, and take a nap. They would be out on the hotel’s casino floor for the rest of the night and you were more than happy to join them.

By the time you put yourself together and got there, the house was in full swing. The music was loud, the people louder. You noticed Ashton first at a roulette table surrounded by other beautiful people. You turned to walk away and look for Crystal when he noticed you.

You smiled thinly and made your way over to him, you had to. Anything else would’ve been seen as rude and that was a problem you didn’t want to deal with.

You lightly touched his shoulder to let him know you were there and glanced over the table. He hasn’t lost anything but wasn’t winning either. Ashton froze at your touch, the innocuous gesture sent a shock through his body, and at that moment something changed.

The dealer called for bets to be placed for the new round as you settled in next to Ashton. The dark jacket paired well with the retro red shirt he wore and you had trouble looking away.

“You look-“ Ashton started but couldn’t finish the sentence, his wide eyes glanced over your body for one of the first times seeing it outside of business wear. The metallic accents caught in the low light and cast an ethereal glow over you that kept drawing his focus.

You flushed, “thanks...you do too.” The sentiment felt heavy despite the normalcy of the exchange and you quickly accepted a glass of something from a roaming waiter to loosen your tongue.

You glanced back over the table and turned to Ashton with a conspiratorial grin. You leaned in to whisper and Ashton felt your hot breath on his neck.

“Always bet on black,” you offered while biting your lip as he laughed lightly. Everyone said that everyone knew that was a rookie move. But for the moment it seemed like the best advice and you were shocked when he did it.

Not as shocked as you were when he won.

Ashton turned and looked at you, amazed.

“Ash that was so lucky!” You gushed openly and your genuine smile pulled at his heart.

“Maybe it’s just you,” he said softly, the honest edge to his voice surprising you. You laughed awkwardly trying to play off the sentimentality of the words but they kept playing over in your mind.

“I think the happy couple ran away for a little bit,” he offered quickly moving on, “but I think we ought to go celebrate.”

You nodded, “well since I did help you win, I suppose you could buy me a drink.”

Ashton grinned back and quickly gathered his winnings before wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you towards the lounge. You could smell his cologne as you walked and you weren’t sure if it was that or his hand on your hip that kept distracting you from whatever he was saying.

The hazy lounge atmosphere was almost as intoxicating as the cocktails that Ashton kept ordering for the two of you. The liquor burned in all the best ways and a soft sweet taste lingered on your lips. You felt warm and giddy, and surprisingly happy to have been spending this time with Ashton.

At some point, his arm wrapped around your shoulders and you laughed at one of his jokes. Had he been sober the sound might’ve broken his heart, like most secret things do if they’ve been dreamed about before.

You turned to say something but stopped with the words dead on arrival. Ashton was closer than you had realized while talking, your faces just inches apart. The red hue of the lights flashed across his features and seemed to show how truly beautiful he was.

For a moment the closeness lingered, and you could feel a tense stiffness in the arm around you, and electricity where his hand curled around your bare shoulder. Unconsciously you felt your face tilt up towards his, and Ashton felt the same desire to close the gap.

What am I doing, you thought trying to blink out of it, I technically work for him I can’t kiss him! Besides he doesn’t even tolerate me normally.

Ashton froze, unable to tear himself away from you, the soft tint of the lights exaggerated the shadows on your face and kept drawing his eyes back to your lips. His hand on your shoulder itched to run up to tangle in the hair at the back of your neck and pull you against him.

She doesn’t even want to be here, he thought suddenly, why the hell would she want to kiss me on top of that?

But somewhere in the back of his mind Ashton knew you were struggling over something similar. He knew you were at least tempted, otherwise you would’ve moved.

A scantily clad cocktail waitress interrupted the moment and sent you both back to looking away. Your stomach felt uneasy from the tension and you drank quietly for a while contemplating your next move. You needed to say something funny, something light to keep this good energy going.

“Look at the bartender,” you said, “can you imagine him working anywhere else?” Your joke was directed at a thin sort of person who without a doubt had the Vegas aesthetic down to a T.

Ashton felt his heart drop, couldn’t you say something nice? Did you always have to be so critical of everyone?

“That’s typical,” he mumbled into his drunk.

“What do you mean it’s typical?”

“You, princess. Always having some shallow thing to say,” he took a long drink draining the glass before turning back to your shocked face.

This had been a bad idea, you knew he had some problem with you but it had been enough.

Refusing to cause a scene on the crowded floor you swiftly stood. “It was just a joke,” you hissed through a clenched jaw before walking towards the lobby and elevators that would whisk you back to the safety of your room.

“Hey come back!” Ashton tossed money into the table and quickly darted after you, slipping into the elevator at the last second.

“We were having a good time,” he said defensively, “stop being such a spoilsport.”

“A good time? Sure, it’s all fun and games for you. Didn’t you ever stop to think that maybe something is majorly wrong when you can’t go twenty minutes without insulting me?”

“It wasn’t an insult it was a comment.”

You laughed openly, “oh that’s rich Ash. A comment.”

The doors slid open on your floor and you quickly turned heel and left. You heard his footfalls behind you and it took everything in you to resist slamming your door before he could enter the room. You angrily kicked your shoes off sending them in varying directions that you didn’t care to fix.

Ashton felt his palms get sweaty and his mouth dry. He didn’t want to keep watching you walk away anymore. “Can’t we just talk about this like friends?”

“Friends?” You felt your heart get all twisty at the words, “we’ve never been friends Ashton.”

When he didn’t respond you continued, crossing your arms in front of your chest as if the pressure would keep you still and safe.

“I used to think we could’ve been. When we first met I thought: now there’s the one- attractive and smart and mature. But all you’ve ever done is play games, spew pretensions, and hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said lamely taking a step closer to you.

“You don’t hate me? Oh that’s right you just hate the way I dress, and joke, and talk...” You met his gaze with a challenge and in another first of the night, he accepted.

Ashton looked at you with a fondness he had never expressed out loud and a gentleness that’s translated in how he took your hand in his and pulled you against him.

“I don’t hate you at all,” he said softly cupping your cheek with his other hand, “I hate that when you’re here you’re always working, I hate that you can’t ever just be with us, I hate that I miss you when you don’t answer a text, and I absolutely loathe that when you do it’s because you have to talk to me.” Because I want to talk to you, he thought unable to form the words in the mouth.

You suddenly felt very small pressed against him and you knew he could see the heat rising in your face.

“Professional was just easier,” you whispered unable to look him in the eyes, “because I don’t hate you either. For a long time I hated having to orchestrate and present people with you-“ because they weren’t me, you thought unable to say the words out loud.

His thumb softly traced the slant of your cheekbones as you hesitantly looked back into his eyes, and unlike in the lounge you did resist the urge to close the space between you, and neither did he.

The kiss was soft and filled with the emotion of everything not said, like all first kisses should be.

“I don’t hate you at all,” he whispered whilst placing kisses to the sides of your face, “not even a little bit, not even at all.” As your lips let a second time you both felt how surely the sentiment was quite the opposite and had been for quite some time.

Ashton was the only thought in your mind, and the only word on your lips as the kisses grew sloppier and needy. He tasted like cherry syrup from the cocktails and you wanted more.

A little disoriented from the alcohol you haphazardly walked backward pulling Ashton with you until you felt the edge of the mattress press against your calves. In a fit of giggles, you both tumbled back onto the bed.

You had never seen him smile like this before, his whole face seemed brighter and you knew instantly he was thinking the same things too. You moved in a flurry of hands and touches that struggled through the haze to remove clothes.

You straddled him to slide the jacket from his shoulders and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt until that too was discarded. Your hands trembled as they skated across his chest, and you felt him shiver as they were replaced with your lips. You slid down his body leading trails of kisses that stopped just above his belt buckle. The way it caught the light sent a delicious shiver down your spine and you tucked that thought away for another time.

Deftly you slipped the belt off before working on the slacks. You slowed and groaned softly upon revealing a dark red pair of lace pants under his trousers.

“Sweetheart,” you cooed teasingly as you repositioned yourself between his legs, “you should’ve led with this.” His hoarse laugh stifled into moans as you traced the lace with your tongue. Your eye wandered to the glittering bottle of champagne on the nightstand and between it and the heady look on Ashton’s face, you knew it was going to be a good night.

The next morning which really ended up being the next afternoon- you were pleased to wake up curled and tangled around a very naked Ashton. The pounding headache and dry mouth were a direct contrast.

You were thankful the curtains were still closed as the moderate darkness seemed to help the monster out hangover you were now feeling. You shifted slightly and were surprised to notice you weren’t entirely naked. You were wearing a t-shirt you didn’t remember owning. The words looked like gibberish but you gathered it was from the hotel’s gift shop.

The discovery prompted you to look around the room and you noticed something. Ashton’s fancy clothes and delightful red panties were joined by a pair of his jeans, another shirt, and an extra pair of your bottoms as well.

There were papers strewn on the nightstand and a shopping bag near the door that you didn’t remember buying. The cool air stung your bare legs and prompted you to curl back into Ashton who lazily smiled and kissed your temple as you rejoined him.

“G’morning darlin’,” he said through a yawn making you giggle.

“Do you remember going back out last night?”

Ashton shook his head but before he could say anything his ringtone cut through the silence and roused a chorus of pained groans from both of you.

He scrambled to answer it and you noticed the empty bottle of champagne on the other side of the bed, and what looked like a sacked minibar’s worth of trash with it.

I am never drinking again, you thought as the ringing subsided and your head began to throb.

“Michael wants us for brunch,” Ashton said tossing his phone back to the cluttered nightstand. You groaned at the thought of food and hoped it would be greasy enough to cut through the drunk brain fog.

You had to swing by Ashton’s room for him to get dressed making it a little later than anticipated when you finally got to the lobby. Crystal and Michael were sharing a love seat and as you both exited the elevator they erupted into raucous laughter and cheers that reverberated pain through your head.

“Aw fuck,” you hissed rubbing a hand on your temple. Ashton had an arm around your waist which kept yours from stumbling.

“Oh come on I expected a little more life after last night,” Michael called with a grin.

“I didn’t think Mikey was serious,” Crystal said, “do you have the papers on you?”

On top of them, Luke chimed in, “I got the whole crying jag on video it’ll make a hell of an update when we get back.”

You and Ashton shared a confused look and silently looked to Callum for help. He was drinking a delightful looking mimosa and sighed putting it down.

“I don’t think they remember,” he started before getting cut off.

“Awe no way! Look at them, they’re the picture of romantic bliss,” Michael taunted with a laugh.

You sighed, “come on now guys I know it’s a little odd for us to hook up but enough with the jokes.”

“Hook up?” Luke laughed, “that’s not what Elvis would have to say about it.”

You were trying not to get frustrated but it was hard. “Luke, what in the hell does Elvis have to do with anything?”

Callum cut in before the others could keep hounding you.

“Promise me you won’t freak out?”

You nodded and felt Ashton do the same.

“Alright,” Callum started slowly leaving time to gauge reactions as he spoke, “Luke and I got a call last night around 4:30, one of you were crying about how you ruined mike’s moment when you were too out of it to explain we came down here to meet you...”

As he spoke flashes of memories seemed to play in your mind. You almost remembered dialing the phone inside who to talk to, but certain you didn’t want to upset anyone.

“Apparently you’d just come in from one of those 24-hour chapels and we’re worried Mike and Crystal would be upset you stole the show.”

“Why would we go to a church?” Ashton asked slowly. Neither you nor Ashton were specifically interested in that sort of thing. Yet as he asked it you remembered stumbling through the lobby looking for something new to wear.

Your mind reeled trying to fit together pieces that you weren’t sure went to the same puzzle. You ran a hand through your hair a small ring on your hand catching in the light. You recognized it immediately as Ashton’s. Something borrowed, you thought unsure of why that mattered.

Callum shook his head as Michael dissolved into a fit of laughter.

“You dumbasses, you got married!”

You and Ashton quickly looked at each other and then back at the others and then back at each other trying to process this whirlwind of information.

The moment lingered longer than Michael found funny and without much else said you were whisked by the other happy couple off for brunch and out into a world where nothing would ever be the same.

[rebelcap]

We are not just friends —Part 3

Chris Evans x bi!latina!character (Sofia is a person of color, she's brown.)

Chris and Sofia meet when their best friends started dating, it all started at friends with loads of bumps on the road.

Warnings: drinking, smoking, drug use (weed), assault, Chris being Steve Rogers, commitment issues, my girl Sofia kinda messy, lots of fucking (eventually)

This is slow burn at its best, at least emotionally.

SERIES masterlist

Part 1 — Part 2

3. Cold

“Wear this patriot shirt?” Chris asked Sofia handing her a bag and she downright throws the bag over her head and kept doing the dishes with a smile. 

For the last five months, Chris had been trying to make Sofia a Patriots fan, so far. He was failing mostly because she found it hilarious and kind of endearing that he kept trying. 

“Sofia,” He said with an overly exaggerated whining pouting and his arms hung loose on his sides. “Please?”

“Dude, how old are you again?” She said with a smile splashing water in his face. 

“Look, little girl. You don't start watering me down—” He said putting his finger in the tap and  wet all off her shirt making her take a step back and gasp with a scream. “without some kind of retaliation.”

“Dude, I had a meeting.” She said looking down at her wet clothes. “What the fuck, Chris!” Sofía shocks her head and turns around to keep doing the dishes. 

“Oh, fuck. Shit. I'm so sorry Sof—” He tried to apologize but a glass full of water was thrown at his face interrupting him. Sofia was laughing looking at how Chris's face was dripping with water. 

“Oh my God, I got you. Ah, I got you so fucking good.” She laughed grabbing her stomach and had to crouch on the floor and Chris found the opportunity perfect. 

He grabbed the same glass and pour some ice-cold water from the freezer dispenser and pour it out directly on her lower back going down to her ass. 

Sofía let out a scream and jump up on the air as she runs in circles in the kitchen. 

“It's so fucking cold, on my Goooooooood!” She screamed as Chris couldn't hold it and fall down to the floor, barely holding the laugh until he felt an horrible feeling of thousands of needles perforating his dick. 

“What the Fuuuuuuuck-fuck. My dick!” He said cupping his balls and dick under his wet jeans as he moaned on the floor. “Oh my God.” 

“I can't feel my ass,” Sofía said touching her ass under her pants and her cheeks were ice cold and she kept laughing. 

“I don't feel my balls, I can't honestly feel my balls,” Chris said still on the now wet floor. 

They look at each of her and started laughing hysterically. 

“Luke is going to fucking assassinate us,” Sofía said looking around the kitchen, there was water pretty much all over. 

“We need towels,” Chris said walking to the bathroom and grabbed a few and throw some at Sofia.

They both dried up pretty much everything while they kept laughing on the occasional slip and ended up on their ass on the floor. 

“Oh man, what are we gonna do now? we're supposed to be setting the table.” She said and Chris seems to have an idea. 

“Take off your clothes.” He ordered with a hand and Sofíalooked at him for a hot second and peel off the wet shirt from her body and stood there. “I really didn't expect that you do that.” Chris mumble and Sofíashrugged as he assesses her body. 

Little waist, nice hips, and her tits had a perfect size, Chris was sure his hand fit perfectly around them. is that a nipple piercing? 

“Ah, yes,” Sofía answered what Chris thought was an internal question. “It did hurt if you wanna know.”

“Oh.” He said gulping down and sigh, turning around as he grabbed her shirt. “We could put them in the dryer,” Chris told her making sure she was following h behind. 

“Oh you're actually kind of smart,” Sofía laughed making a face entering the little laundry room in Luke's house. “Beauty and brains, woow.” She said in fake awe.  Chris trow her wet t-shirt making it stuck on her arm. 

“Shut the fuck up and get naked.” He orders her, again and she laughed. They put their clothes in the dryer and stand in front of each other covering themselves with towels. 

“Jeez, dude. Have some decency and cover your man-boobs.” Sofía said adjusting her towel around her underarm and went about to press her palms against Chris's nipples. 

He erupted it laugher like a twelve-year-old and let out a series of giggles covering his nipples with his fingers. 

“What?” She laughs bending over a little. 

Honest to God, this was awkward as fuck for both of them but they were trying to make it okay. For the last months, they have been trying to ignore the obvious unfinished sexual tension they been building up with innocent banter, that pretty much always ended up on some kind of someone touching the other on the name of fun and jokes. 

It never escalated because he had a girlfriend back in LA. A beautiful actress with clear skin as Amanda had told Sofia when they Google her out of curiosity. 

“You're competing against this, you could easily take her out,” Amanda said with a confident nod looking at the computer screen. 

“I'm not competing, jeez. I think we're over the phase ‘Try to fuck Chris’ .” Sofía shrugged looking at the gorgeous brunette with everything staring back at her. “but that clear skin, tho.”

“I don't think he's over his phase ‘try to fuck Sofia’, I've seen the way he looks at you when you're not looking and it's not that I-want-to-bend-her-over—well,” She interrupted herself and make a face. “maybe yes. But there's more.” Amanda explained and Sofia scoff. 

“There's not more than that.” 

“But if he broke put with her girlfriend, you'll fuck him?” 

“If he's up to, yes. Besides, that he's our friend and your boys' friend. Dude, Captain America.” She said making a point. 

“Captain America.” Amanda agreed. 

“Hey, you okay?” Sofía asked, she was sitting on top of the washing machine with her legs crossed and holding her towel on her naked body. Chris was leaning on the opposite wall right in front of her, towel around his waist and his eyes were down.

~~~

“Uhm?” He asked looking up. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah,” He said with a little side smile and look down. “I don't know.” 

Sofía stayed silent waiting for him to tell her what's going on, Chris signed a few times and cross his arms over his chest. 

“We broke up.” He finally said and looked up at her reaction. Sofia’s brows went up and let out an inaudible Oh. 

“Shit. What happen?... Did you guys had a fight or something like that?” Sofía asked with a frown.

“She wanted to take a break,” Chris said shaking his head. “I think she was trying to let me down gently.” 

“Man, that's—”

“Yeah,” He agreed before she could even finish but Chris knew what she was going to say. “It was over since the last time we got back together, I just… I couldn't let her go and I guess she didn't want me to.”

“Do you love her?” Sofía asked almost in a whisper.

“I did,” Chris said looking at her between his eyelashes. “I don't think I'm still in love with her.”

“Fuck.” She sighed. “But you okay?”

“I think I'll be okay, I got you,” Chris said with a wide smile and Sofia awwwwh him and extended her arms for a hug. Chris took the step forward and hug her, pulling her close as she caresses the back of her head slowly. 

“You've got me, you're my dude. You know that, right?” She said with a smile. This wasn't that I want to fuck you talk, this was the actual friendship that they developed these past months.

“I know, I know.” He said nodding against her neck. “Fuck. I'm so glad I meet you.” Chris laughed. 

Sofía couldn't agree more as they smiled, the clothes were done.

~~

Thanks everyones, glad someone it's reading this.

Tag list:

@letsdothemonstermash

[searchingwardrobes]

This is a future fic from the universe of my self published novel What Hindered Love. It’s pretty much 4k words of fluff. Spoilers for my book, obviously.

Summary: They've come a long way, but sometimes Chloe Wren Barrett still forgets she isn't alone, and sometimes Micah Barrett forgets he's been redeemed. Thankfully, they have each other to remind them.

Tagging:  @snowbellewells​​​​​​ @teamhook​​​​​​ @xhookswenchx​​​​​​ @ekr032-blog-blog​​​​​​ @sherlockianwhovian​​​​​​ @superchocovian​​​​​​ @thislassishooked​​​​​​ @ohmakemeahercules​​​​​​ @kday426​​​​​​ @onceuponaprincessworld​​​​​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​​​​​ @nikkiemms​​​​​​ @kmomof4​​​​​​ @hollyethecurious​​​​​​ @bethacaciakay​​​​​​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​​​​​​ @welllpthisishappening​​​​​​ @wellhellotragic​​​​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​​​​ @captainswanapproved​

The microwave makes its dull whirring sound, and Luke Barrett spins around the room in tune to its rhythm. His brother Lincoln sits on top of the kitchen counter, peering into the large bowl next to him.

“Does the chocolate go in first, Daddy?” the four year old asks.

“No, Lincoln,” Luke corrects him in a bossy tone, “you have to pour the hot fudge all over it so it’s nice and chocolately, right Daddy?”

Micah chuckles, thinking how he sounds exactly like his mother. As if said woman can read his mind, Chloe calls out from her spot on the couch in the living room.

“You better not be letting Lincoln sit on the counter top, Micah Barrett!”

Micah exchanges a sheepish, guilty look with his two boys, then grins mischievously. He winks at them both as he answers his wife, “Of course not, sweetie.” Lincoln starts to giggle, then claps his pudgy hands over his mouth as his brown eyes widen.

“Riiight,” Chloe quips, but the snap is out of her voice. She’s nine months pregnant, and doesn’t see the point in fighting over all that much.

Micah opens the bag of pretzels and shakes them into the bowl just as the timer dings on the microwave. Luke bounces up to open the microwave, and Micah shakes his head, still finding it hard to believe the boy is tall enough now to reach it.

“It’ll be hot,” he warns his son.

Micah grabs the oven mitts and carefully removes the jar of hot fudge. He slowly pours it into the bowl of pretzels, using a spoon to stir it.

“Why ya gotta stir it?” Lincoln asks, leaning over the bowl.

“If you don’t,” Micah explains, “not all the pretzels get covered in the fudge.”

“Ohhhh,” Lincoln says, as if Micah has imparted vast knowledge.

He lets both boys stir a little until the mixture is, as Luke and his mother so eloquently put it, “chocolatey.” Lincoln hops down from the counter before Micah can stop him, and he winces when the boy’s head comes dangerously close to hitting the edge.

“Can I carry Mommy her treat?”

“Snack, Lincoln, not treat,” Luke corrects with a roll of his eyes, “she’s not a dog like Lightning.”

“He can call it a treat if he wants to,” Micah admonishes his older son as little Lincoln’s face falls. He remembers all too well what it was like to be the baby brother on the receiving end of constant bossy lectures. He loves Josiah, but he could be a self-righteous know-it-all at times, too. He sees it sometimes in Luke, and it bothers him. Chloe says it’s just an oldest sibling thing.

Micah gives Lincoln the bowl, but knowing well the lack of coordination in four year olds, he helps him grasp the sides, then stays close beside him as they walk to the couch. Chloe’s eyes brighten as Lincoln proudly gives her the “treat,” and Micah knows her reaction has more to do with the beaming little boy than the contents of the bowl.

“Thank you, Lincoln!” she enthuses. “You are so sweet!”

She leans over to give him a kiss, and then gives one to Luke as well when the seven year old pouts that he helped too. Micah then shoos them off to bed, eliciting more pouts.

“Your mother needs peace and quiet to relax,” he admonishes them, “and it’s past your bedtime anyway.”

Both boys frown in exaggerated fashion, but shuffle down the hall anyway. Micah waits to hear the sink running to ensure they are brushing their teeth. When both bedroom lights click off, he returns to the couch. He shoos Lightning, the golden retriever, off Chloe’s feet. The dog, who he swears now prefers Chloe over all others, slinks with disappointment to her dog bed in the corner. Micah settles in at the opposite end from Chloe, lifting her badly swollen feet and settling them in his lap.

“I warn you, they’re disgusting,” she tells him around a sticky mouthful. She swallows, then continues, “I feel like I could stick a pin in them and water would gush out.”

Micah struggles to mask a grimace as he begins to knead the pads of her feet. She isn’t exaggerating, they feel like water balloons. “Don’t be silly, Wren, they aren’t disgusting.”

Chloe laughs out loud. “Liar! Don’t forget; now that we’re married, I can read you pretty well.”

Micah smiles sheepishly and shrugs, “Okay, I admit. They aren’t . . . pleasant. But you’re on your feet all day at work, you need some relief.”

Chloe relents, leaning her head back and sighing with pleasure. She pops a sticky pretzel in her mouth as she scrolls through Netflix, choosing a romantic comedy. Micah shifts so that his back is against the arm of the couch and his legs are stretched along Chloe’s. He continues to massage her feet, which are feeling slightly less like water balloons and slightly more like normal appendages. He isn’t looking at the TV, instead studying his wife’s face. She looks content, yet there’s fatigue around her eyes.

“I’m so glad I’m here,” he finally says.

Chloe turns from the TV with a confused expression, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m glad you don’t have to do all this alone this time around.”

The furrow in Chloe’s brow deepens, and she shakes her head, “But I wasn’t alone with Luke. You were there.”

Micah lets out a shaky breath. He’s left the past behind, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t still have regrets. The biggest being how deeply he hurt Chloe. “Not really, Wren. Remember all the appointments I missed? How I constantly let you down? How because of the drugs I was just one more burden for you to carry?”

Chloe’s face sets itself in firm lines as she clicks off the TV and sets the bowl on the floor by the couch. She reaches her hands out towards him. “Come here.”

Micah obeys, squeezing himself between his wife and the back of the couch, wrapping one arm around Chloe and resting the other across her swollen abdomen. Chloe cups his face with her hands and kisses him thoroughly. When she pulls back, she rubs her thumbs across his cheeks as she stumbles over her words.

“I usually speak with actions,” she chuckles, “hence the kiss.”

“I’m not complaining,” he tells her with a grin.

Chloe’s eyes narrow in intensity. “But hear this, Micah Barrett. If there’s one thing God has taught me in the last couple of years, it’s that the past doesn’t dictate our future. We made mistakes when we were young, we both did, but Jesus is all about fresh starts and second chances. Right?”

Micah turns his face to kiss Chloe’s palm, grasping her wrist in gentle fingers. He rubs his thumb over her pulse point, then leans down to press a light kiss to her lips. “Maybe you should preach next Sunday,” he chuckles.

Chloe’s eyes sparkle as she shrugs one shoulder, “Let your dad know he can take the day off.”

Their laughter turns to playful kisses, which turn to passionate ones. Micah runs his hands along the swell of Chloe’s breast, enjoying the moans he elicits from her. He rests his hand against her womb where their daughter is growing, and a sudden thump against his hand has them both gasping.

“You felt that?” Chloe exults as she catches his eye.

“I did,” Micah breathes in wonder. He presses his palm to the same spot and his rewarded with another firm kick. They both laugh as Chloe scoots to a seated position.

“I hope that means you’re ready to join the world, little one,” Chloe coos as she runs her hand over her belly.

Micah’s heart swells to the point that he thinks he might burst. He gently takes Chloe’s chin in his hand and turns her to face him. “I love you,” he tells her with all the emotion he can convey. It still doesn’t seem like enough.

But Chloe hears it; she knows. The look that crosses her face tells him that; the look he can’t describe, but knows so well. “I love you, too.”

****************************************************

The clock on the nightstand reads a quarter past two in the morning, and Micah blinks his eyes, wondering what has awakened him. He rolls over to find Chloe’s side of the bed empty, and understanding dawns. He throws back the covers, quickly pulls on a shirt, and heads down the hall. He finds Chloe pacing the living room, rubbing her belly. Lightning is keeping pace with her, whining under her breath as her claws make a click-clack sound on the hardwood floor.

“Is it time?” he asks with concern, frustrated with himself as he stifles a yawn.

Chloe shakes her head. “I’m not sure. I mean, I don’t think so. The contractions are strong, but they aren’t regular. I mean the last one was nine –“

Chloe’s breath catches and her words are cut off as she leans over suddenly. One arm cradles her belly while the other grasps the back of the couch. Micah rushes to her side, reminding her to breathe. She does, in and out, in and out. Finally, she straightens and brushes sweaty hair off her forehead.

“Whew, that was a strong one,” she tells him, attempting humor and a wobbly smile.

“I could tell,” he replies, his brow furrowed. “So what was that again about it not being time? Because it looks like time to me.”

Chloe bats his arm away from her side irritably as she resumes her pacing. “But they aren’t close enough apart yet; at least not all of them. Some have been five minutes apart, some three, but then others are nine or even ten minutes apart. And then I’ll have some that aren’t even that painful.”

Micah eyes his wife with concern as she waddles her way around the room (not that he would tell her that she was waddling). Chloe is not a huge pregnant woman (though she claims to be), and her stride is not normal for her. Her belly seems to have dropped, altering her stance. Not a good sign.

“Um, Chloe,” he says hesitantly, “I really think we need to go to the hospital.”

She shakes her head again stubbornly. “I can make it until the boys are up and head to school. My water hasn’t even broken yet.”

“But didn’t they have to break it at the hospital with Lincoln?”

Chloe waves him off again as if he’s a pesky fly. “Did you not hear me? The contractions aren’t regular. They’ll just send me home.”

Micah crosses his arms. “Chloe, why are you so adamant about not going to the hospital?”

Tears suddenly spring to Chloe’s eyes. “I don’t want to scare the boys. I wake them up, they worry. They get up in the morning, and I’m not here, they worry. And school . . . they have school tomorrow . . .”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Wren,” Micah says quickly, stepping in front of her to stop her pacing. He puts his hands on her shoulders and forces her to meet his gaze. “You are not alone this time, remember? We are not alone. Remember that list in the kitchen drawer? The list a mile long of the people who offered to come over and be with the boys when the baby comes?”

Chloe’s panic has abated somewhat, but concern still lights her eyes. “We can’t wake your parents up in the middle of the night. And Josiah and Kate can’t leave the kids.”

Micah is just about to remind her of the other dozen names on the list, when she suddenly clutches his arm in a death grip. She leans over, this time unable to suppress a groan from the pain of the contraction.

“That’s it,” Micah grumbles as he scoops Chloe up into his arms. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

********************************************************

Micah remembers Chloe saying she was a fan of epidurals, and Micah can see why. He’s a fan of them now, too (except for the long needle they had plunged up her back; that made him a little squeamish). Luke’s birth had been surrounded by so much chaos, it’s true, but he also clearly remembers Chloe’s excruciating pain. They had both been so young, and neither of them had a clue what they were doing. He knew full well the panic in Chloe’s eyes had only been mirrored in his own back then.

Maybe things would have been different if labor had happened more slowly with Luke, if there had been time for an epidural. Because here and now, Chloe is calm, smiling, laughing even. (Okay, so she’s laughing at a Friends rerun on the television, but still. Laughter had been the farthest thing on her mind the day Luke was born.)

“Knock, knock,” a bright voice says from the doorway. Micah turns to see his mother standing in the doorway, his father behind her. “Can we come in?”

Micah glances at Chloe, who smiles and waves them in. “Sure, of course. I’ve got my happy juice now.”

“Smart girl,” Elizabeth chuckles as she leans over to give her daughter-in-law a kiss on the cheek. “In my day, everyone was doing all-natural home births. Remember that, Tom?”

“Yes,” Tom says, eyes stormy, “I almost lost both you and Micah. Absolute foolishness.”

Chloe’s eyebrows raise, “That’s a story I haven’t heard.”

Elizabeth flashes Tom a look that clearly says not the time, then turns back to Chloe with a bright smile on her face. “For another day, dear. Is there anything the two of you need?”

“Micah hasn’t had breakfast yet,” Chloe says, giving her husband a pointed look.

“But I can’t eat in front of you when you can’t have anything,” he protests.

“Yes you can,” his mother argues. “Tom, go get the boy a sandwich.”

Tom chuckles as he steps for the door, slapping Micah on the back, “In situations like these, just do as the women say, son. Want to come down to the cafeteria with me?”

Micah shakes his head as he looks Chloe over. “No thank you. I don’t want to leave her.”

Tom nods in understanding, then steps out. As soon as he leaves, another family member walks through the door.

“Kate!” Chloe cries out, hugging her cousin tight when she reaches the bed. “How did you manage getting over here? What about Haley and Noah?”

Kate waves Chloe off as she straightens. “Josiah’s with them. And Hannah got your two off to school, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Chloe says, voice thick. She glances at Micah, and he knows he doesn’t have to say I told you so.

Kate looks Chloe up and down and frowns, “She’s not here yet? You’ve been in labor for eight hours already.”

“Make that ten,” Micah speaks up, “this stubborn woman here didn’t want to bother anybody and was in agony for two hours before we ever got here.”

“I wasn’t in agony,” Chloe corrects, rolling her eyes, “and what would be the point of getting here two hours earlier? Our little Clara is still staying stubbornly put.”

“Well,” a voice says from the doorway, “hopefully this can help speed things along.”

A nurse comes in with a syringe of Pitocin. It only takes the medicine half an hour to kick in, and then things really do speed along. Chloe starts feeling the contractions, even through the epidural, and she’s soon fully dilated and effaced. Then it isn’t long before the doctor is there, and Chloe is pushing. Micah is surprised when Chloe allows his parents and Kate to stay. He holds her right hand while Kate holds her left. His parents stand on the other side of the room, both laughing and crying as their granddaughter enters the world. Chloe has to push for a long time – turns out Clara is face up when she should be face down – but Micah is amazed at how calm and steady his wife is. When Clara crowns, Chloe reaches down to feel the top of her head, and smiles in wonder. The connection seems to spur her on, and as Chloe pushes one last time, laughter bubbles out of her. The laughter seems to be contagious, because soon everyone in the room, even the doctor is laughing.

Clara’s cry pierces the air, and the doctor shakes her head, laughter still spilling from her mouth. “She’s so beautiful,” the doctor tells them, beaming and shaking her head. “I’ve delivered hundreds of babies during my career, and never once has a birth made me laugh with joy.”

A nurse takes the wee girl from the doctor’s arms, and places her against Chloe’s chest. “Yes,” Chloe says, tears mixing with the laughter, “joy. Absolute joy.”

“That should be her middle name, don’t you think?” Micah asks, reaching out towards his new baby daughter, his heart turning over in his chest when her tiny fingers clasp his.

“Clara Joy,” Chloe whispers, then beams up at him. “Light and joy. It’s perfect.” Then she leans forward and kisses him soundly, despite the audience.

*****************************************************

Chloe awakens to Micah’s soft voice. She turns her head and smiles to see him leaning over the hospital bassinette, changing Clara’s diaper. His smile his adoring and his blue eyes sparkle with joy, even in the dim hospital room. Yes, her daughter’s name is perfect.

Micah still hasn’t noticed that Chloe is awake as he scoops his daughter up gently in his arms. Chloe is glad, for as she watches him pace the room, talking in a low voice to their daughter, she feels she’s getting a glimpse inside her husband’s very soul.

“You are the most beautiful thing I ever laid eyes on, baby girl. Don’t tell your mother, though. She’s gorgeous, but you?” Micah swallows thickly. “You, my dear? Words can’t describe this feeling. It’s different than with your brothers.” He brings little Clara closer to his face and whispers conspiratorially. “Another secret, okay?” He chuckles as if Clara has answered him somehow, and Chloe bites back a laugh of her own. “Not that I don’t love them just as much, but with you, my daughter? I don’t know . . . I’ve never felt this way. This urge to protect? I would die for your brothers, your mother, but for you . . . “ Micah shakes his head, and Chloe can clearly see he’s frustrated that he can’t find the proper words. “I feel like my heart is outside my chest.” He sighs and kisses Clara’s tiny head.

Chloe clutches a hand to her own chest and thinks that Micah has found the perfect words after all.

*****************************************************

Three months later, Chloe awakens again to Micah’s soft voice. But this time, it’s coming through the baby monitor. Clara has been a great sleeper from the get-go, but until now she had been sleeping in a Moses basket on the floor by her and Micah’s bed. Tonight is her first night in the nursery now that she’s outgrown the baby basket.

Chloe smiles against her pillow as she listens to Micah on the baby monitor. He doesn’t talk baby talk; oh no, he converses with their daughter as if she can carry on an adult conversation with him. A bittersweet feeling fills Chloe’s heart as she wonders if he spoke with baby Luke the same way. He probably did.

“Now Clara,” he says in mock sternness, “you are dry and your tummy is full. You stopped crying the minute I came in the room. What is this about, huh?”

Chloe adjusts the video monitor and watches as Clara slaps the crib mattress with both hands. Both feet, clad in footsie pajamas, kick as well. She can’t see on the grainy video feed, but she can imagine a bright, toothless grin on her daughter’s face.

“Oh, that’s what I thought,” Micah laughs. The back of his head appears on the video screen as he reaches down to gather Clara up in his arms. Then both move out of the video’s range, but the creaking sound lets Chloe know they have settled in the rocking chair.

“You just wanted to see me, was that it? Well, I don’t mind that at all, baby girl. Just this once. But don’t tell your mother; she already says you have me wrapped around your finger.” Chloe giggles as she hears Clara squeal. “Yes, yes, I know. As much as I protest, it’s probably true.”

It’s quiet for a few moments, and Chloe feels herself drifting off. But then her husband begins to talk again, and the thickness of his voice arrests her.

“I don’t like to admit this to your mother, but I’m holding on to these months as tight as I can. I missed them with your brother, you see.”

Chloe brushes a tear away at the anguish in her husband’s voice. Will he ever stop paying personal penance for his mistakes? She wishes he could forgive himself. Wishes he could see himself the way she does; the way all three of their children do. Even Lincoln, who isn’t even his flesh and blood.

It’s quiet again in the nursery, until Micah’s voice begins to sing. God, but she loves that man’s voice! She remembers the way she reacted to his singing when she first started coming to church. She chuckles to herself. It wasn’t exactly holy, that’s for sure.

Chloe fights sleep as her husband sings Clara a lullaby, but his voice is so soothing, that her eyelids flutter and soon Micah’s voice has lulled her to sleep.

*******************************************************

Chloe is awakened next by a painful fullness in her breasts. She groans as she eases up, glancing at the clock in surprise to see that Clara has slept past her early morning feeding. Bleary eyed, Chloe snatches up the baby monitor and panics for a moment when she sees the empty crib. But then she realizes Micah’s side of the bed is still empty. She smiles to herself as she pushes the sheets aside; she has a pretty good feeling about where she’ll find both father and daughter.

Chloe pads quietly down the hall, not wanting to awaken the boys. She stops in the doorway of the nursery, a smile filling her face at the sight before her.

Micah is in the rocking chair, Clara asleep against his chest. His head his lolled to one side, the top of Clara’s head resting against his chin. Clara’s mouth his open, and drool spreads across the shoulder of Micah’s shirt. Still, it’s the most beautiful sight she’s ever seen. She rubs at her chest, feeling a physical pain in her heart. She’s let go of the past, but still, Micah is right too. She never got to see him like this with Luke. And it still hurts to think of all they lost.

Chloe kneels beside the rocking chair and rubs gently at Micah’s shoulder. “Hey,” she whispers softly as he slowly awakens. He seems a little disconcerted at first, but then he glances down at the baby against his chest and smiles as he massages the back of his neck.

“I can’t believe I fell asleep,” he mutters, “and I have a bad feeling my neck and back are going to regret it later.” His jovial smile fades as he looks into Chloe’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Chloe smiles gently as she tenderly runs her hands up and down Micah’s strong arms. Tears pool in her eyes when she answers. “I just love you so much. You are such an amazing father. And I just wish – I wish you could see it, too.”

Micah blinks the moisture from his own eyes as he grasps Chloe’s hand in his and brings it to his lips. He simply nods at her in understanding.

And it’s enough.

*******************************************************

Later, it’s Micah listening through the baby monitor. He knows that Chloe would be embarrassed if she knew; she thinks she can’t sing, but her high, bright voice is a soothing balm as she sings to the baby. He can picture them in his mind: Chloe rocking gently as Clara contentedly nurses at her breast. The words spill over Micah’s soul, and his wife has no idea of the freedom that they bring. She isn’t singing a lullaby; she’s singing a worship song.

She’s singing her love to her savior, and there is no sweeter sound.