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5sosfanfictioncatalogue · 9 days

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Fics Written in 2015 Masterlist

chips of glass (ao3) - asymmetric calum/ashton E, 40k

Summary: A month before 5 Seconds of Summer’s first gig, Calum puts up an ad on craigslist.

Ashton is the one who answers.

come alive and bring the thunder (ao3) - merlypops michael/luke E, 36k

Summary: Prince Luke of the Faeries is forced to marry King Michael after a War between kingdoms threatens to tear their lives apart… and maybe Luke and Michael fall in love too. Maybe.

do it better (ao3) - lourrygum OT4 N/R, 8k

Summary: takes place during the time michael lost his passport and was stuck in the US while his band performed in the UK. He feels upset about it and stops answering their calls and may or may not unfollow them on twitter, leading to questions and anxiety.

or, ¾ of 5sos go to the US to see michael and end up fucking him senseless.

Grabby Hands (ao3) - antisocialhood calum/ashton, michael/luke/ashton N/R, 7k

Summary: Ashton likes wearing big sweaters, curling up with his daddy and sucking him off while they watch TV, and sometimes Calum likes to treat his princess to something special.

he’s got blue eyes deep like the sea (ao3) - orphan_account luke/ashton M, 5k

Summary: He groans, a sickening pain shooting through him. He can feel something wet beginning to trail down his leg, and in his hazy mind, he just barely manages to put together that it’s slick, and he’s just presented.

Fuck, he’s an omega.

(or, the one where luke goes into his first heat at a party, and it all goes downhill from there.)

Hold my hand and kiss my cheek darling (the world is watching us) (ao3) - Abbypd luke/ashton, michael/calum G, 23k

Summary:

“But why do I need a fake boyfriend to come out?” Ashton asked, glaring at his manager – a woman in her forties who usually knew exactly what she was talking about. This time, the young singer wasn’t too sure. “Because why else would you have waited for two whole years to come out? With a boyfriend you can just tell them you didn’t know you were into guys until you met him. It will be romantic and everybody will love it.”

Or Luke and Ashton are both idiots who are too scared to admit that their kisses aren’t just for the cameras.

i am a pale imitation of a boy in the sky with a cap in his hand and a knot in his tie (ao3) - antisocialhood michael/luke, luke/oc N/R, 8k

Summary: It’s just, Michael likes Luke and Luke likes how good Michael is at sucking him off.

me and you just singing our song (ao3) - rory_the_dragon luke/ashton E, 6k

Summary: Luke’s come a long way from the kid he used to be.

He doesn’t know if anyone else has noticed, but Luke feels the difference.

And as soon as Ashton Irwin walks into Michael’s garage, Luke suddenly feels fifteen and blushing all over again.

(Or: the one with the very first band practice)

Never (ao3) - notonguexwithbutt michael/luke M, 41k

Summary: “I rub him through his jeans and he pushes against me as he sucks on my lips and scrapes his fingers across my back, undoubtedly leaving marks. After a minute I don’t think I can wait any longer so I sit up again and reach for the waistband of his jeans. His arms fall beside him and he reaches up to grip his hair, looking up at me with his swollen lips parted and eyes dark from being so dilated. He looks so wrecked and I haven’t even properly touched his dick yet.”

Michael and Luke work together at a pizza shop and Michael seems to hate Luke but really he’s just in denial. Michael’s POV.

Oil and Water (ao3) - dafeedil michael/calum E, 25k

Summary: Calum’s heart sinks a little bit, and he’s not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s because he’s allowed himself to fall victim to Michael’s seduction yet again, or maybe it’s because he’s disappointed in himself for being so willing to try something that could so easily be dangerous. Or maybe, the most likely of all, it’s because he can hear Mali’s voice in his head telling him how stupid he’s been to have found himself—quite literally—backed against the wall like this, with a boy he barely knows whispering dirty promises into his ear when he doesn’t even know the first thing about real relationships.

Or, Calum spends a night with the boy that smells like smoke, and as it always is with bad addictions, he keeps getting sucked right back in.

rhythm of the night (ao3) - lourrygum michael/luke, calum/ashton, ot4 E, 6k

Summary: It was great when Calum and Ashton finally stopped being dumb and got together but its not so great when the lines between where they can and can’t fuck get a little blurry and Luke and Michael have to endure it

or, Michael and Luke are turned on by Ashton and Calum’s sex sounds and also by each other.

Shameless (ao3) - HeartnArrow N/R, 39k

Summary: Luke is captain of the hockey team, one of the most popular guys in school along with calum hood, came out as gay last year. ashton is a nerd who gets straight a’s and has yet to have his first kiss at the age of 17. michael is his best friend who isn’t really a nerd but has known ashton since preschool. ashton has always watched luke from afar, admiring him at the hockey games and in the hallways. he’s had a crush on him since freshman year but luke doesn’t even know his name. or Luke was looking for a fuck buddy while Ashton was looking for love.

Something Better (ao3) - notonguexwithbutt michael/luke M, 10k

Summary: “It’s like Luke is trying to say so many things with one look and somehow Michael is understanding them all. Or is he? Because to him it looks like Luke is saying ‘push me up against a wall and fuck me’ or maybe it’s something more like 'do something, I dare you.’ Or maybe Michael’s just really turned on by the sight of his best friend covered in sweat and staring at him with dark, dilated eyes.”

Luke gets his wisdom teeth removed and feels quite affectionate and honest in the haze of his anesthesia. Later, he’s embarrassed about the things he confessed to Michael, so Michael does what he can to even out the field.

Something to Prove (ao3) - velvethood (orphan_account) michael/ashton E, 18k

Summary: “Ashton, he showed you his new song.” And okay, Calum doesn’t need to explain it any further for Ashton to know what that means. Michael is always so reluctant to show the words in his head, because they’re a little darker and deeper and colder than the other boys’ writing, but Michael came to Ashton without a second thought. He knows what that means.

The Demon In My Nightmares (ao3) - Shirosaki michael/luke N/R, 15k

Summary: A tear streams down Luke’s cheek as he remembers his nightmare. “He’s not real.” Luke tells himself quietly as he looks down at his bed sheets, shaking. “He’s not real, calm down Luke.” He hears a dark chuckle from the corner of his room, causing the blonde to freeze. His eyes widen as he hears footsteps coming toward him. “Y-you’re not real.” Luke says shakily. A low laugh comes in response. The blonde closes his eyes tightly, and then reopening them, waiting for the person in the corner of his room to disappear.

In other words, Luke is having nightmares with a demon named Michael in them.

This is the Beat of My Heart (ao3) - bogshops michael/luke M, 22k

Summary: “It was just like any other day; the blond boy had decided to walk home, saying he needed to take a breath, and as he finished walking down the staircase that lead inside the Church, he spotted a different face in the crowd. An odd boy staring deeply at the various faces coming out of the old building.

The boy was pale; he had dark hair and a bottle of beer between his lips. For a split moment Luke got himself lost in the figure across the street, the slim boy looked like he was around his age, with piercing green eyes and the best lips Luke had seen in his entire life.”

or the one where Luke is a religious boy, until Michael appears in his life, takes advantage of him and Luke decides to have a little revenge.

Three Thirty AM (ao3) - lourrygum michael/luke E, 7k

Summary: Michael feels bad. Worse than bad. He feels like the ultimate knob and he knows he should stop encouraging Luke to talk in his sleep, to talk about Michael in his sleep, to talk about getting fucked by Michael in his sleep. He knows this, and he knows that he definitely shouldn’t respond when he talks, shouldn’t push his hair out of his face so he can see his eyes squeeze closed a little tighter, his bottom lip quiver, his skin flush.

He absolutely should not tell Luke how much he does want him, how he loves how wrecked he looks when he’s barely even touched him, and how much hotter he’ll look when it’s Michael getting him off as opposed to him doing it himself.

or, Luke is sleep talking and Michael really shouldn’t be encouraging him.

Two, Two, Four (ao3) - cashcakeplz ot4 N/R, 9k

Summary: “So, let me get this straight. You…want to have a foursome…tonight?” Luke asked, raising an eyebrow at Calum.

or the one where Calum and Luke seduce their boys into a foursome.

unlikely lighthouses (ao3) - asymmetric Michael/Calum E, 37k

Summary: In the middle of the North American leg of the ROWYSO tour, Calum builds a friendship bracelet and Michael starts to have dreams of another version of them

We’ve been waiting for a smell like yours. (ao3) - Abbypd ot4 5k

Summary: “Are you alright?” he asked, and Luke turned his head to face the boy. He opened his mouth to answer but the boy sniffed him and pulled a face Luke could not quite place. “Fuck, want me to get you to Ashton safely?” he asked, and Luke looked at him, confusion very obvious in his eyes. “The scent isn’t very strong yet, but it’ll get worse within a few minutes.” He explained, though Luke still didn’t understand. Niall started pulling Luke with him. “What is going on?” the youngest blonde asked, following the boy towards the exit of the classroom because he didn’t really have a choice.

Or where Luke goes into heat in a class he doesn’t share with his three alpha’s

#5sosfanfictioncatalogue #5sos fanfic #masterlists #5 seconds of summer #5sos #2015fics #2015fics masterlist

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years

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His Good Sweater: Chapter 10

Masterlist

Shoutout to my bestie @acollectionofficsandshit for all the drunk comments she made while betaing this one... Wish you guys could see them lol

Word Count: 4.8k

Recommended song: “Amnesia" by 5SOS

Pierre paces in his dinky trailer at the Circuit of the Americas and desperately tries to forget you exist. He had already taken down the pictures on the wall but the images were burned into his brain. He had shoved your shirt under his bed, having absolutely no idea how it had made its way halfway around the world to taunt him.

He was slowly unraveling like a spool of thread on a loom as you wove him irrevocably into the tapestry of your life.

The race in Austin started in less than two hours and you hadn't texted him. Not once in the handful of years he'd known you had you neglected to wish him luck before a race, even if it was 2 am your time or you had exams, you always took thirty seconds to warn him to be safe and finish well.

He was beginning to think you hated him for how he'd acted at the gala last weekend, jealous and possessive from afar. Talking to you would have been the better choice. But seeing you laugh and dance the night away had hurt too much. He’d slipped out early after Victoria assured him she could find a ride and sped home to fall apart.

He had only barely managed to piece himself together in time for the race.

Pierre checks his phone for the third time in as many minutes and swears under his breath. He didn't know why he expected it to ring and for your face to pop up at this point. Even if you called to tear into him, he'd still fall to his knees at the sound of your voice. He just wanted to hear you speak, didn't care what was said, only that he could latch onto your words and lose himself in them.

Hope sparks when his phone chimes but he nearly throws it across the trailer when he sees Charles' name.

Heard from her yet?

No. At this point I'm beginning to think I never will again.

Maybe she fell asleep early?

It's 5 pm in London. I'll bet you she's eating a bowl of takeout from the Chinese place down the street, not sleeping.

Its still possible. Don't dwell on it. This isn't the headspace you wanna be in before a race. Block it out. I don't wanna see my best friend wind up hurt today.

Pierre didn't reply, if only because Charles was right. Worrying would get him nowhere. After his shitty qualifying yesterday, he started thirteenth on the grid so he had his work cut out for him. Austin offered plenty of opportunity for overtakes; he could get the job done if his team made the right calls.

And if he made it to the podium, you would have to text him.

The thin mattress groans when he sits to unlace his hastily tied race boots. He folds his legs to sit criss cross and places his palms on his knees. The familiar pose already has some of the tension leaving his shoulders as his eyes slide shut. He breathes in for ten seconds, reflecting on what ails him. He holds the breath for five seconds before releasing it slowly.

He repeats the process until he comes to terms with the fact that you won't be wishing him luck. That was your choice; there was nothing he could do about it and therefore no sense reading into it. He had done all he could to convince you to trust him. The ball was in your court; he had to be patient and wait for you to take a shot.

“Focus,” he murmurs to himself, forcing any erroneous thoughts from his head. “Walk through the track.”

The circuit at Austin was challenging, consisting of a mix of 20 sweeping corners and scattered hairpins. He was almost lucky in a way to be starting so far back on the grid because turn one was only a few hundred meters from pole and their tires would be slightly colder and less grippy upon arrival than his would be. The few extra seconds afforded to him by starting thirteenth could mean the opportunity to leap frog past his rivals in the first corner.

The counterclockwise circuit meant he would have to keep an eye on his front left tire too, as it would wear faster than the others. He'd change gears an average of 66 times per lap, higher than similar length tracks like Monaco. Pit stops cost an average of nineteen seconds, meaning he would need to build a significant gap to the driver chasing him in order to avoid the threat of any undercuts.

There were too many variables occupying space in his mind to afford you a sliver of it.

Some time later he decides that his four leaf clover tucked safely in the worn leather of his wallet will provide all the luck he needs and switches on his pre race playlist after popping in his ear buds.

"Sights on the podium," he murmurs to himself, hand on the doorknob. "Let's race."

The bass flows through him as his feet carry him to the Alpha Tauri garage on autopilot, through the back entrance and to his plain white driver room. The familiar beats are a numbing salve spread on his frayed nerves, his anticipation rising like a crimson wave in his veins. He leaves his clothes in a haphazard heap in the corner and changes into the white fireproofs hanging nearby, thoughts momentarily veering to you knocking on the door and stripping them right back off.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he runs through his usual stretch sets until Pyry arrives to walk him through reflex exercises.

"How's your head?" Pyry asks, running him through more cool down stretches. "Do we need to take a minute and do some meditation?"

"Beat you to it," Pierre grunts out, pushing back against the hand on his head to work his neck. "I'm good."

"You sound better than you have all week, I'll give you that. Keep that focus, use it to propel yourself forward."

"Run me through the lineup again," Pierre requests, "I need something else to think about."

Because if he let his mind follow the path it wanted to, it would inevitably lead to you and undo the work he had done to avoid that. He needed to be empty of anything that wasn't racing, anything else was an unnecessary distraction that had the potential to end in disaster.

Pyry rattles off the grid in order of who Pierre needs to overtake, pausing between each name to give him time to recall their driving styles and potential chinks in their armor to exploit. He knew from tapes of previous years that Stroll often ran wide into turn one, giving Pierre the option to brake late and sweep up the inside. Vettel was half convinced the track was cursed, so his mind would work against him enough that Pierre could exploit it and get past at some point. He continued until he got to Hamilton and Max locking out the front row, where he would need a bit of luck to overtake.

"You got it?" Pyry asks, stepping back.

Pierre rolls his shoulders and nods.

"Get shit done mate," Pyry says and bumps fists with his driver. He slips out to allow Pierre a moment to center himself before slipping into his race suit, leaving it half unzipped and tying it around his waist before following his trainer.

Pyry leads the way to where the matte navy and white car waits, mechanics swarming it like studious worker bees tending to their queen. No one talks to him save his engineer because words from anyone else threaten to break his carefully constructed race mentality. If they wanted him to bring home points, they knew to leave him alone once he was suited up.

His mind is blank of anything but statistics as he twists his ear buds in and pulls on his balaclava and helmet. As his vision narrows to the sliver of track he can see through his visor, so does his focus. With forty minutes to lights out, he's directed out onto the track. He rips the wheel to the right as he exits the garage, getting a decent powerslide for his efforts.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would land on the podium, if only to see the look on your face when he did.

**********

It took an unfathomable amount of restraint to keep yourself from calling Pierre to wish him luck.

You texted Max instead, wishing him a safe and comfortable podium a half hour before lights out. He hadn't responded, likely already in the garage with his trainer going through his pre race routine.

The pace Max had set the day before had awarded him pole position and the margin between him and Hamilton had been enough that you were confident in his ability to hold off the Mercedes for all fifty six laps.

If you were honest with yourself, you were disappointed that the Alpha Tauri you so desperately tried to ignore would be starting in thirteenth. You try not to think about it, instead queueing up SkySports and opening your laptop for pre race coverage. You avoid the interviews in favor of listening to the commentators analyze the grid.

"It should be an easy win for Max as long as he fends off Hamilton until the first round of pit stops. The undercut works well here, as Red Bull proved last year, and I'm sure they plan on doing the same thing this year."

You hum in agreement, gingerly sipping your steaming tea. You really ought to consider a career as a sportscaster at this point based on how often you came to the same conclusions they did.

"I think one of the biggest shakeups is Russell starting all the way up in eleventh after his amazing qualifying for Williams yesterday. Think he can hold onto that position?"

"He's got some fierce competition not far behind in the form of Alpha Tauri. Gasly starts thirteenth- surprisingly far back on the grid given the otherwise flawless performance he's shown this year. But it seems likely that he should be able to overtake-"

You flick the tv on mute, unable to stomach listening to them sing his praises. You numb your mind with social media until the Formula 1 theme plays on your laptop, alerting you that there's a few minutes until race start. Tire blankets are peeled off and the drivers weave their way through the formation lap with the exception of Kimi who takes his traditional straight line approach to warm up his supersoft tires.

Most of the front runners are on ultrasofts, indicating a two stop strategy. It was Pirelli's recommended approach, and you were glad that Horner heeded their advice for once and let Max use the ultras in Q2. It would give Max the upper hand over Hamilton who starts on the yellow sidewall tire and thus slightly slower lap times.

Crofty and Brundle break down the notable turns as the cars line up on the grid, pointing out the sharp hairpin only a few hundred meters from pole position. If Max got away clean, he would be ahead of the cramped pack and have an even better edge over the silver arrows who would be forced to queue behind him.

The traditional "lights out and away we go" kicks off the grand prix, engines roaring into the first turn. Max does manage to get away clean and is awarded with an immediate advantage. Turn one proves tragic for the Alfa Romeo of Raikonnen and the Asthon Martin of Stroll who collide and cause Kimi to spin. They rejoin at the back of the pack, your eyes snagging on the navy and white of an Alpha Tauri as it streams past.

Your heart spins in a similar fashion when the GAS driver tag leaps up two places in the timing table, suddenly in eleventh due to the incident. Your gaze snaps to the laptop humming on your legs before you remember its Max's driver cam you queued up. The Dutchman is silent as his engineer relays information about the incident and informs him of the widening gap between those chasing him.

“Confirm received,” Gianpiero says calmly. No matter the situation or how heated Max got, he always kept his head. It was what made the duo such a good match and had likely kept Max from going off the rails on more than one occasion.

“Yeah,” Max says shortly, clearly pissed about how quickly Hamilton was approaching. “Let me know when I’ve got enough charge to get out of range.”

“Yep, will do. Just keep this pace and you’ll hold him at bay.”

Live coverage replays the incident between Stroll and Raikonnen from the view of onboard with Pierre. The instant the 10 on the halo appears in the center of your screen you suck in a breath. He yanks the wheel to avoid colliding with Ocon, who had to do the same to keep from hitting his teammate as they navigate through the carnage.

You chew on your lip and try to refocus on the battle between the front runners. Not much is happening in the midfield for the next thirty or so laps and Max just barely manages to build a solid enough gap between himself and Hamilton to dive into the pits comfortably without losing places.

Your phone rings and you answer it without checking who it was as the only person you wouldn't answer was currently occupied.

"Hello?"

"Why the fuck didn't they pit Daniel?!"

You grin, noting the blistering beginning on his front left tire as SkySports switches to his onboard camera. "Because he's about to pass Charles," you tell Dan's girlfriend. She didn't call you often during races. It was likely that she knew you were nearing your wits end and this was her way of offering support.

"He won't be able to with those tires- oh." She breaks off when Daniel passes a DRS detection zone and his rear wing opens, allowing him to pass the Monegasque with ease.

"Told you," you say with a touch of reprimand. "You're always too nervous about those things. Daniel knows how to drive, just trust him to get the job done and he'll bring home another trophy for your apartment."

"I don't live here," she points out and you roll your eyes. She had lived in London as long as you had known her, but she was almost always at Daniel's apartment whether he was in town or not. Daniel digs in as the camera follows him for a lap, highlighting the widening gap between the McLaren and the Ferrari.

"You basically do. At this point, you're paying rent for a dusty one bedroom apartment on the east side that you set foot in maybe once a month." She scoffs but you push on, "a waste of sterling if you ask me, when you're at Daniel's every time I ask you to do anything."

"You act like I never- there goes Pierre!"

His name sparks dread in your gut as your attention flicks back to the screen in time to see him overtake Bottas on the inside of turn one. He'd managed to claw up to fifth with the move, somehow gaining places while you weren't looking.

"Good for him," you croak, trying your best to be genuinely happy for him. He was pushing the car to the limit and you'd be amazed if he didn't wind up on the podium along with Dan and Max. Charles and Hamilton were the only ones in his way, and something told you Charles wouldn’t put up much of a fight when his mate reached his gearbox. Hamilton would prove a challenge but he had been making tiny mistakes all day. Nothing significant, though enough to add up to him barely holding onto second while Daniel rode his gearbox.

"He's got ten laps to get past those two," she murmurs as if momentarily forgetting you were on the phone.

"Can we talk about literally anything else please?" You whisper, half tempted to shut off the race completely.

"Babe, you have to face the music at some point. Either you never want to see him again or you love him, which is it?"

She never failed to be anything but brutally honest. You appreciate it because everyone else let you brush off your problems, but she called you on your bullshit. She would needle you about it until you folded.

"I think it's better for both of us if I pretend we never met, don't you?"

"Easier for you, yes," she agrees. "But it'll kill Pierre. You don't think you could keep in touch with him, just as friends?"

"I don't know if I can handle that. I can barely look at him without wanting to bawl my eyes out."

She sighs, pausing to contemplate what to say. Voice soft, she continues, "Why don't you just take him back? Clearly it's ruining both of you. Are you really gonna let the press wreck the best you ever had? I know its hard but-"

"I'm not like you," you cut in. "I can't just ignore the articles and the comments and pretend there aren't people out there that hate me for being with him. They came to my house, disrupted my family. Hell, Ben can't even go to school without being mobbed by his classmates demanding answers. If my suffering is what allows my family to go about their lives then so be it."

"If that's what you wanna believe."

You sigh, tangling your fingers in the hem of your shirt. "It is."

"Alright," she says, voice teetering on a knife's edge. "I know better than to try to change your mind when you're like this. He's on the podium by the way. Oh, and watch what you say to Max- Pierre will read into it."

She hangs up without a goodbye, leaving you to deal with the realization that the podium is indeed VER RIC GAS on your own. Your eyes are glued to the Red Bull and McLaren drivers, blatantly ignoring the one in the white suit as the anthems play and the champagne is sprayed, turning away to busy yourself with making coffee when Daniel hands his liquid filled race boot to third place.

You weren't quite sure how you were supposed to watch what you said to Max- there was no reason to in your mind. Max was your next closest friend on the grid and you had every right to congratulate him if you wanted to.

Resolute in your decision, you text Max and Daniel a quick congratulations before shutting off the TV and closing your laptop.

Max's insane custom ringtone he'd selected for himself nearly makes you jump out of your skin when it blares from your phone.

"Hey great race-"

"Did you see it? I wasn't sure if you'd watch it- did you see my move on Hamilton when he tried to get past me?" He was talking a mile a minute like he was still out on track. "I was like- and then Dan tried to overtake me on the final lap and I was like no way! And then-"

"Max," you chime in, dragging out the 'a' with a sing-song voice. "You're rambling."

"Oh right. Yeah but I made it! Led every lap and finished with another win."

"That's great." You force as much enthusiasm in the words as possible, trying to match his chaotic energy. "You did great. I know it probably doesn't mean much, but I'm proud to be your friend. You beat a world champ!"

"It means a lot-"

"Who's that?"

You stiffen at the familiar cadence. You had assumed Max was back in the garage when he called, but he must have still been in the podium room. You could picture him in his race suit, smudges of grease and dirt staining the pristine white. Beads of sweat probably ran down his neck, begging to be brushed away by your tongue.

"Uh, no one," Max says in a lame attempt to cover up his digression. "I gotta go," he whispers to you.

"Let me talk-"

"Wait don't," you start, but the call ends abruptly and you blink. You stare down at your phone, completely dumbfounded. Of course his instinct would be to talk to you, to share the euphoria of a podium with you. It was the first victory in three years he wouldn't have you to celebrate with.

It was only a matter of time until his resolve popped like the cork on his champagne.

**********

Pierre's phone is in his hand as soon as Max hangs up. He hefts his trophy in the other, a wild grin on his sweaty face as he snaps a picture. He makes sure he's the only one in the frame, shamelessly wanting himself to be the center of your attention.

"Mate," Daniel pipes up, catching his eye, "you think that's a good idea?"

Pierre sighs, cutting the Australian a glare. "I'm just trying to fill her in."

"Wasn't your plan to give her space?"

"It's been a week, isn't that long enough?"

"Take it from me, sometimes it takes months for someone to figure things out. Hell, you know how long it took me to sort through my feelings for-"

"I know," Pierre cuts in. "I know. I just- a snap can't hurt can it? C'mon, I just got a podium! If it goes bad I can blame it on the post race jitters."

Daniel holds up his hands and shrugs. "You're a grown man. Do what you want."

Pierre studies the photo, scrutinizing the way his hair was plastered to his head and the awkward way he'd posed to keep anyone but himself out of the frame. It's his genuine smile that he knows will do you in, and ultimately the reason he sends it.

His phone is a lead weight clutched in his grip as he winds through the paddock, constantly stopped by vips and team members congratulating him. None of what anyone says registers, he just tries his best to match their mood and sputter praises about his team's contributions to his podium.

The snap you finally send back is only from the eyes up, but it's enough. He's surrounded by people in his driver room, but for ten seconds it might as well have just been him staring at a sliver of your face on a screen.

The tiny lines at the corners of your shining eyes tell him you're smiling, which is a step in the right direction even if you won't let him see your entire face. It's enough to reignite the hope that slumbered in his chest while waiting for you to pull the trigger and make a move.

He sends back a video of the people in the room, who cheer when they realize they're being filmed. 'Wish you were here,' is what he captions it and sends it without giving himself a chance to overthink.

Ten minutes pass with no reply.

The beer he’s already consumed have given him a pleasant buzz as well as an excuse to make a bad decision or two. He takes another video of the room to post to his Instagram story, 'Missing you' written in the lower left corner.

Fuck, he hopes you'll see it and regret leaving him on read. Instead all he gets is a text from Charles chastising him for stirring up drama.

Really Pierre?

Blame it on the alcohol, he texts back.

I know you aren’t drunk. You can’t form a coherent sentence when you are.

Guess i gotta drink more then

Pierre doesn’t turn anyone bearing alcohol away. He's two celebratory shots deep when Daniel finds him sulking in a corner. "You've got my girl texting me freaking out over your story. I've seen it and I gotta agree with her. Was that really necessary?"

"She left me on read," Pierre says like that was enough explanation. His head was spinning and it was getting hard to keep the room upright. "And it's the truth. I miss her like hell. I want her here. She was supposed to come, you know? I was gonna have her fly in with me on the jet. She doesn't start class again until June. I had this whole week planned out. I was gonna show her Texas- she’s from New York and..."

He trails off when he notes Dan’s pitying smile. Daniel sighs and runs a hand through his curls. "I know. I get it, okay? I know it's hard but you can't force it. You've gotta let her come back on her own, all you're doing now is pushing her away."

He was fucking clueless when it came to these things. He'd had you for a few precious moments and now that he'd lost you he didn't know how to act. His mind was running on hazy autopilot; he barely knew which way was up, let alone did he trust himself to make any sort of important decision.

He stares down at the shot he'd been handed at some point before throwing it back. The cheap whiskey burns his throat but he barely registers the sting. "Should I take it down?"

"She already saw it," Daniel says gently, as if he anticipates how bad the fuck up will hurt. And it does. It hits him like a tire wall at two hundred kph, knowing that you were probably ranting or crying on the phone with Daniel’s girlfriend. "But yeah, that's probably best. People are already wondering what happened between you two, no need to throw fuel on the fire."

"You're probably right-" Pierre cuts off when Charles arrives with a grimace on his face. He shakes his head and gives his friend’s shoulder a squeeze.

"For once I'm not the dumb one."

"You're a dick, you know that right?" Daniel says, allowing Pierre to delete the post. It takes him a few tries before he gets it down, but undeniably rumors will be circulating in the morning if they weren’t already.

"Honestly what were you thinking?" Charles demands, edging towards full blown yelling. "I told you to leave her be. The gossip stemming from this isn’t gonna help.”

The last thing he needed was someone else telling him how stupid his decision had been. At least Daniel had the decency to show sympathy.

"Honestly?" Pierre responds with the same intensity, his anger flaring. "Honestly, Charles, I was thinking that she was happy for me but was too afraid to take the leap. She haunts me. Every second I’m awake I have to force myself away from her. Even when I’m asleep I can’t get away from her. So I don’t know, maybe I wanted to haunt her too."

“This isn’t the way you win her back and you know it.”

“I know!” Pierre throws up his hands. “But what else am I supposed to do? She won’t talk to me. She has no problem talking to Max or Daniel but apparently she draws the line at me.”

“You know it’s not-” Daniel's eyes flick to his phone and he fights back a grin. All it does is remind Pierre that he lost the person that could bring that sort of smile to his own face. "Fellas I wish I could stay and help but I gotta get going. Charles, I think Pierre needs another drink." He slaps five American dollars in the Monegasque's hand. "First one is on me."

Pierre is too deep in a spiral to care when his friend drags him from the party to a bar just south of the circuit. Somehow it was within walking distance; the floor was sticky and the lighting was for shit but he didn't care.

Pierre's focus was on downing shot after shot, erasing the broken image of you his mind had conjured up. He never should have posted the story. It only served to feed into what the media had been speculating for the past week and dredged up more tension between you.

Pierre stops checking his phone two shots later. The liquor provides a wet blanket over his senses, dousing him in cold water and scrambling his brain. He could barely remember his own name, but yours still lived in the corner of his mind.

Even drunk, he refused to forget you.

Two hours and who knows how much alcohol later, Charles helps Pierre back to his hotel room.

Pierre falls asleep as soon as he hits the mattress, head too blurry to dredge up memories of you.

#are you feeling the angst yet #pierre gasly #pierre gasly X reader #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fantasy #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fantasy #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula 1 rpf #f1 rpf #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fanfiction

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calpops · 3 years

Text

barely breathing | c.h.

You and Calum cope with your daughter getting sick and all of the memories it brings back.

1.5k words

dates with cal masterlist | my masterlist

~~~

White walls and uncomfortable plastic chairs invade Calum’s world once more. The sterile smell in the air burns deep and the beep of machines brings him back to six months ago, back to a time before your baby could be in his arms, back to when every breath was a fight for her life. Now his arms are empty once again and worry spirals around him in hazy vision and short breaths.

He knows you’re beside him but even that knowledge isn’t enough to pull him from his panic as white coats rush through the halls. His eyes shut, burning and pushing back tears, and all he can see is Mila smiling up at him from her incubator for the first time, all he can hear is her first giggle at the brush of his finger on her nose. All he wants is to hear her first word and see her first steps.

Calum clutches at the arm of the chair instead of your hand, knowing the force is too much and that the slight bite of pain from white knuckles helps remind him to stay alert. He hears you sigh, maybe yawn, he’s not even sure through the disconnect he still feels. It reminds him of the broken breath you took over the phone when you called earlier in the day. Two words had gotten him to his feet from his lax sitting position on Ashton’s couch. His songwriting journal had fallen to the floor. Mila’s sick. His heart had pounded at the explanation and the next two words you barely managed to utter. Come home. He was out the door before either of you could take another breath.

“She’s gonna be okay.”

Calum hears your voice and he rationalizes with your words and finally knows what it feels like to be on the receiving end of something that feels so far out of reach. He doesn’t know how he convinced you she would be okay when she laid in an incubator, or even how he convinced himself, he doesn’t know why he can’t seem to grapple with that sentiment when her prognosis is less dire. All he knows is numbness. He’s numb to the truth that you speak, numb to the bright lights flashing before him and numb in his fingers and chest and just barely feels your hand settle on his forearm.

“Love, look at me.”

He manages to look up and find concern in your gaze. It’s the same gaze you gave him when he came rushing through the door that afternoon to see Mila in your arms and hear the panic in your voice. She’s barely breathing. Three words and little gasps and wheezes had rushed you both to the hospital with glass walls of worry separating you. It’s the first time he’s looked in your eyes since.

“I think you’re having a panic attack,” you tell him, voice soft and trying to be soothing. Calum nods past a shallow breath and feels his shoulders tighten as they shroud in on himself. “You need to breathe. In… and out.”

Your hand runs up and down his arm with each instruction of in and out and within a few minutes he feels again. He feels your fingertips and the honesty in your words and the love in your eyes. The numbness shatters on the tiled floor below when the doctor’s voice cuts through.

“Hoods?” he asks and lets his gaze skirt to both of you when you immediately stand, Calum thankful that you haven’t dropped your hold on his arm. He’s sure it’s the only thing keeping him steady. “You can come see Mila now.”

The walk down the hallway is silent for you and Calum. Harsh lights pool down from above and Calum blinks back the brightness and the burning in his eyes as you both come upon an all too familiar door. You’re not in the same unit as when Mila was born, the NICU two floors above but the sentiment of a hospital room and your child being inside is eerily similar and heartbreaking.

“We have her using a nebulizer,” the doctor says and Calum realizes he’s been talking the entire time; filling the two of you in on how she’s doing. He steels himself and recollects some words. Pneumonia. Asthma. Medicine. Okay. When the door opens and Calum’s eyes land on Mila he feels his breath catch in the back of his throat.

“Can she come home tonight?” Calum hears you ask and he knows he should pay attention, it’s one of the only questions that really matter, but he’s too transfixed on images at present that remind him of the past.

Mila lays still and quiet, the nebulizer giving her medicine to help her heal. But all Calum can see is his newborn daughter taking in oxygen through tubes, the glare of plexiglass form the incubator and an entire life flashing before his eyes. His hand clutches yours as he forces out another deep breath. He can feel himself swaying and zoning in and out on the conversation you hold with the doctor. He’s glad to have you by his side, takes comfort in the soothing motion of your thumb running across the back of his hand. He remembers coaxing you to Mila’s side when she was just days old, encouraging you to reach into the incubator to hold her hand. This time it’s you who gives Calum a push.

With small steps and whispered words he follows your lead to Mila’s side. As soon as he can see her eyes staring up at him he breaks; the glass wall that had been up comes shattering down as he sinks into the chair at her side. He whispers to her and once he starts he can’t stop. He wants her to know that he’s there; a piece of guilt from being away for the day weighing on him unknowingly.

“Cal,” you cut in amongst his mindless blather of I’m here now. He turns to look at you, breath still coming with thought but feels himself ease when your eyes are gentle. “Don’t say that.”

With newfound curiosity Calum looks at you with questions in his eyes. He’s not sure what he’s not supposed to say, words tumbling out without much thought other than of Mila. He’s not sure what not to say or why he shouldn’t say it. You sit by his side, take his hand again and glance at Mila, eyes glossy but strong.

“Don’t blame yourself for not being there,” you finally explain. “It’s not your fault she’s sick. You being there this morning wouldn’t have changed anything. We’d still be here right now.”

Calum nods, rolls his shoulders back and bites his lip through the urge of a sob trying to break through. He understands what you mean and while a part of him can grapple with it and believe it there’s still a hairline fracture of doubt that threatens to break him again. He knows you can see it and appreciates you continuing to talk him away from the shards of broken glass.

“She was fine this morning. Smiling and giggling. It just happened, Cal. One second she was fine and the next she was coughing. You came rushing back. You’re always there for her. Never doubt that.”

A deep breath finally escapes Calum and belief floods him in its place. Your reassurance calms the stormy thoughts in his mind. The reminder of Mila’s smile and giggles replaces images of an incubator and fights for life. His grip on your hand tightens and he motions for you to come closer; you abandon your own chair and settle into his lap and arms. Calum decides this is okay, that the only way it will be better is once you’re all back at home, sitting in the rocker of Mila’s nursery with both of you in his arms.

“Did he say she can go home tonight?” Calum asks, finally finding his voice though it does shake with the effort. “I wasn’t listening.”

Your laughter makes the drab hospital room a little lighter. The kick of Mila’s foot in recognition of the noise makes Calum’s heart and worries a little less heavy.

“Yes. They’re going to finish her dose of medicine and then send us home with everything we need to take care of her.”

“Good. That’s good,” Calum mumbles and buries his face against your shoulder. He doesn’t want to take his eyes off of Mila but he needs a moment to remind himself that you’re there too.

Calum finds himself able to breathe and listen the next time the doctor comes in, finds that his need to be with Mila ends with him holding her from the hospital and sitting with her in the car as you head home. His only want, to sit in the rocker and have you both, comes to light as the moon shines through sheer curtains.

“I’m taking tomorrow off,” Calum says as the sway of the rocking chair guides Mila into sleep, her comfort in your arms insurmountable. “We were supposed to go to the studio but she’s more important.”

You can’t argue with that. Nor would you ever want to.

~~~

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rubix-writings · 3 years

Text

Punisher Pt. 6

Sixth part of Punisher. Not a super exciting chapter, but it’s important. This is a Chicago PD/Fire imagine with an original character. I don’t own any of the plot points or characters from the show. Also, it doesn’t follow any particular season or sequence in the shows.

Series Summary: Josephine (Jo) never expected to find support and pure love when she left Los Angeles. She ran away to Chicago and was content with living an insignificant, hidden life. But everything changes when she walks into Molly’s to get a job.

Josephine (OC) x Jay Halstead

The italicized lines are internal thoughts of the character.

Warnings: language, mentions of drinking, mentions of a fight and harassment

Things have drastically changed in the days following the bar fight. Instead of Jay avoiding me, I avoided Jay. Whenever he came to the bar to order drinks, I immediately went to tables to grab empties and refills. Or when he walked over to close a tab I would find something to clean in the back. I know what you’re thinking and yes, it is childish and the worst way to handle things, but right now I don’t know what else to do. Honestly, I can’t think straight right now. Everytime I try to think through all the possibilities of a potential relationship between Jay and I my irrational thinking kicks in and I end up with an outcome that couldn’t possibly be correct. I can tell that I’m hurting Jay, that he was hurt after he spoke to me and I froze instead of reciprocating any sort of feelings.

“Jo….Jo!.... Earth to Jo!”

“What, sorry?” I turn to Emily.

“Can I get a refill please?” I move to grab the wine bottle and refill her glass.

“You okay Jo? You seem a little out of it today,” Silvie interjects.

“A little?” Emilly scoffs as she sips her wine.

“Just tired, I’ve had a lot of late shifts,” it’s not a complete lie.

“You sure it doesn’t have to do with someone with a name that rhymes with Ray?” Emily jokes.

“Em, please not today,” my body is exhausted, it can’t handle trying to explain the situation further.

“You can talk to us, about anything,” Silvie reassures.

“Yeah, I know I joke about it, but we’re here for you,” Emily agrees. The girls get up from the stools and move to the table with Matt and Cruz. What is wrong with me? I just need to not think about him and eventually things will go back to before I met him. I didn’t always know Jay Halstead, and the world still turned.

“Hey Jo, can I get a beer?” Will asked. Of course, I really should look for a different job. I grab a beer from the fridge and pop to cap for Will.

“Here yah go Will.”

“Thanks, can I ask you something?”

“Um…” I stutter. “I guess it depends.”

“There’s this guy I know who likes this girl.” Will whispers. I glance back to the table he just came from, Natalie laughs as Maggie finishes telling a story. Ah, gotcha.

“Alright.” I stop wiping down the counter and lean on my forearms so we can speak in a whisper.

“The girl is great, everyone likes her. But, she’s just had a major life change and he doesn’t want to be ‘taking advantage’ so to speak. But people can see that she very obviously has feelings for him too. What do you think he should do? Since you are a female.”

“Is that the only criteria you have?”

“You are also a bartender.”

“Whatever. Has this ‘guy’ made his feelings known to her?”

“Yeah, it’s shamefully obvious.”

“Good, he’s going to have to be patient. Since she just went through a major life change, she’s probably scared and doesn’t want to hurt him in the process.”

“Okay, is there anything he can do to help?” I take a deep breath and think hard for a minute.

“I think the best thing he can do is to show her that he’s not going anywhere, that he’s willing to wait as long as she needs. Because there’s no telling how long that’ll be, so being reassured in that would help a lot,” Will nods and takes a sip of his beer.

“You see why I wanted a female bartender to talk about this with?” I roll my eyes. “Thanks Jo, really.” I smile at Will and go back to wiping down the counter.

“Hey! Hey guys! Listen up!” Mouch runs into the bar with Trudy in tow.

“Hey, hey! Listen to the man!” Hermann grabs everyone’s attention and Mouch nods in gratitude towards his best friend.

“Not everyone’s here…” Mouch looks around. It’s true, some of the firemen and Intelligence Unit - including Jay - are missing from the bar tonight.

“Oh my God,” Trudy groans, “We’re renewing our vows!” The bar immediately erupts into joyous screams to congratulate the couple. I haven’t seen Trudy smile this big before, her cheeks must be hurting. The couple are herded into a giant hug from their friends and coworkers despite the objections.

“Jo, get the champagne! We need to toast!” Hermann shouts and I start passing out champagne flutes. Once everyone has some champagne, Hermann stands on the ledge to make a speech. “These two lovebirds have stood the test of time not to mention life threatening events because of the love they share. I won’t get too sappy cause I don’t want Mouch to start crying, but the love you have is special. You can tell by the way you look at each other or the way you talk about each other. Not many people get to experience that, but I can’t think of two people who deserve it more. We’re excited to continue on this journey with you. Cheers!” Everyone yells out before taking a sip. The couple are bombarded with questions about the renewal and how they came to the conclusion.

Hermann’s words swirl around my head, I want to be loved like that. I’ve only experienced harsh, painful love. Love that isn’t really love, more like imprisonment.

****

The days leading up to the renewal were hectic, since Trudy enlisted my help early on. It wasn’t an ask either, she threw down some binders for food options and told me to pick what I think would be best. Of course I did as told, since Trudy scares the shit out of me, and ever since I’ve been her go-to girl. I would be lying if I said the entire planning process wasn’t fun, one day Trudy brought cake slices to the bar to test out.

Currently, I’m fulfilling my last duties - transforming the bar. It feels right that Mouch and Trudy settled on the bar, it only took Hermann offering it up multiple times a day. The bar is empty as everyone has shifts today so they could get tomorrow off. It took me about an hour to move all the tables and stools around to provide a walkway for the ceremony. Once that was done, I took a break to lay on the floor since I never workout, but probably should start. But quickly, I realized my time crunch since I needed to run back home to get ready. The rest didn’t take long. Hermann brought over all the ironed out tablecloths before his shift, so I put those on the tables and booth tables that were left over after moving stuff around. I just started filling up vases with water for the flower arrangements when there was a knock on the door. Thinking it was Trudy coming to take a quick peek I didn’t think to look through the peephole first.

“Hey, I have some stuff Trudy needed to be dropped off,” Jay spews out quickly. Stunned by Jay’s presence, I silently move out of the way so he can enter.

“How are you?” I force out.

“Good, ugh work’s been really hectic,” Jay puts the box of decorations on a covered table. “You?”

“Good. I somehow got roped into doing all this,” I move to look through the box. It’s filled with framed photos of Trudy and Mouch, including a photo from their wedding day.

“Look, Jo. I’m really sorry about stepping in. I just… the guy had it coming,” I laugh.

“He did. But I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me. It’s not worth you losing your job.”

“I would love to be able to stand here and tell you it will never happen again because I know that’s what you want to hear. But my only regret from that night was not stepping in sooner. And if I lose my job from punching out a guy who harasses and assaults you then so be it.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, I’ve wanted to tell you this sooner, but you’ve been avoiding me like the plague,” I cringe.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to go about everything afterwards so I just avoided it. I know I hurt you and I really am sorry.” Jay smirks and nods.

“I should let you get back to all of this,” he moves his hands gesturing to the pure chaos behind me. “I’ll see you later.” My hands begin to shake. Say it, now. Go! Everything starts moving in slow motion, I want to tell Jay that I care. That I care for him and what happens to him, and the feelings I have are so confusing it’s infuriating. But it’s as if I’ve gone mute and my throat is too dry to speak.

“Wait!” I call out as Jay’s hand encompasses the door knob. He looks back at me, his blue eyes only make it harder for me to speak.

“Yeah?” He questions as I stand there opening and closing my mouth trying to speak. He takes his hand off the door knob, and like magic my heart rate decreases and my vision finally begins to clear.

“I could use some help here, if you’re free,” I stutter out. He smiles and slips off his coat.

“Tell me where to start.”

Taglist: @whit85-blog @bestillmystuckyheart @nocturnalherb16 @5sos-imagine @miranda0102

#chicago fire imagine #chicago pd imagine #chicago one #Chicago Fire #Chicago PD #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x oc

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fiveisnumber1 · 3 years

Note

I'm getting attached to way too many 5SOS songs for these two but you recommended it and I got hooked so here's another impromptu music analysis cuz can't stop, won't stop:

Here I am waking up Still can't sleep on your side There's your coffee cup The lipstick stain fades with time If I can dream long enough You'd tell me I'd be just fine I'll be just fine

I have SO MANY THOUGHTS. I analysed these verses as both Reader and Five. Sort of like a split screen/back and forth thing.

Reader obviously can't sleep in Five's room or stay there too long in the beginning before the grief of his disappearance threatens to make her cave in on herself. She finds his hidden stash of coffee beans and coffee cup cuz of course she got him that cup, she knew how much he loved coffee but that Reginald didn't allow it, so she knows where he keeps it and it makes her cry thinking about it cuz she misses him so much. She holds it and it's like she can feel the ghost of his fingertips still. And when she falls asleep finally after running on her own caffeine highs to avoid sleeping (before Diego and Grace catch her out), when she crashes she manages to sleep long enough to dream of Five who whispers to her that everything will be OK even though when she wakes up he's still not there and there's an emptiness in her soul and next to her.

Similarly, with Five: He also can't leave Reader's makeshift grave for the first few weeks. He can't bring himself to leave but he can't bring himself to stay long either cuz he's in despair over her loss. Her diary and locket is the "coffee cup" for him and like her, if he manages to sleep, she always haunts his dreams and tells him he'll be okay and that they'll see each other again which is hope he can't bear to give himself but simultaneously needs to keep going.

So I drown it out like I always do Dancing through our house With the ghost of you And I chase it down With a shot of truth Dancing through our house With the ghost of you

They both drown out their reality and misery. They try to forget. Reader dances around the manor pretending to be happy but she's still haunted by the memories of Five because it's literally his home and he snuck her around all these halls so they're tainted with him mumbled the stories for her in their one-sided conversations when she was invisible and trying to avoid getting caught.

For Five, Reader's ghost is literally with him at all times through his hallucinations so he tries to use that to forget that Reader isn't actually with him. His reality of the apocalypse is the bitter truth despite him making Reader up in his mind to keep him company to drown out the loneliness.

They both pretend to be happy with each others ghosts but those ghosts simultaneously remind each other about their bitter truth that they're actually far apart. They're simultaneously trying to drown out and chase the truth of each other with the remnants they have of each other.

Cleaning up today Found that old Zepplin shirt You wore when you ran away And no one could feel your hurt We're too young, too dumb To know things like love But I know better now (Better now)

So I imagine Reader finding Five's notebooks where he was calculating for time-travel and just sitting down with her head in her hands and shaking because Five just had to go and prove himself to Reginald who just had to be an asshole and refuse to be understanding. If only he had treated the Hargreeves all better maybe Five wouldn't have been so hurt and angry and the desire to prove his superiority to Reginald for some measure of control wouldn't have existed and forced him to be rash while lashing out.

Five probably finds something in the rubble belonging to Reader or maybe just her diary entry detailing how hurt she was when he left her behind but also talking about understanding his pain and it makes him ache because she understood him and his hurt and his ambition unlike everyone else and he took it for granted.

And they're obviously so young and just children but they're in love. They're too dumb to understand what it means or how to deal with it cuz it's so much emotion in such a small time but they know how it feels now that they've lost one another. They regret not saying anything and they know themselves better now and wish they had realized the depth of their feelings earlier.

Too young, too dumb. To know things like love. Too young, too dumb

The repeated lines just make my heart ache even more. It's just emphasis on their longing for each other and sort of speaks to that heightened desire over the years to see each other again the more they are apart and their hearts grow fonder. Theoretically, they were kids who shouldn't have had such a deep attachment to each other but they did. Five made a dumb mistake that landed them in a mess but it wasn't entirely his fault either and it led to their separation.

So I drown it out like I always do Dancing through our house With the ghost of you And I chase it down With a shot of truth That my feet don't dance Like they did with you

This last line hurts like a bitch. They'll continue to move on and pretend everything is fine cuz they need to keep going but they're missing their most important piece which means they can't dance exactly the way they did when they were together. They falter without each other cuz there's an empty space next to them both occupied by each other's ghost just waiting to be filled by the real person they miss. They'll drown out the truth of their emptiness as much as they can but they can never drown out the fact that the person who made them want to dance was each other.

Anywho here's my analysis. I can't wait to see what you add and I hope you liked it! :D

As always I love your analysis! I wrote a lot so I’ve put read more link below:

Here I am waking up Still can't sleep on your side There's your coffee cup The lipstick stain fades with time If I can dream long enough You'd tell me I'd be just fine I'll be just fine

When I hear these lines it gives me the feeling of time standing still, nothing is changing and it’s only little things that even dictate the passage of time. I think this is really fitting for both the reader and Five. The academy is frozen in time for the reader. The rooms of the building are the exact same and untouched from when she left to when she arrived in the future. Nothing has changed, especially so with Five’s room. It’s little things like the amount of dust collected that even show that time has passed. As for Five every day is the same in the apocalypse. It’s only the rising and setting of the sun and the changes in weather that really dictate time.

In terms of the coffee cup, I imagine after a while the reader starting to use it as it makes her feel closer to Five. She’d keep it in her room and take perfect care of it using it for whatever drink she had. The color of her lipstick staining the glass. Somehow when exploring the academy ruins, Five finds the cup perfectly intact with the lipstick stain of the reader’s on it. Five takes care of the mug but as the days, months, and years go on, the lipstick stain fades away and it breaks his heart because it’s just another part of her that he realizes is gone.

The repeated line of “I’ll be just fine” can also refer to what the reader tells other people who are trying to care for her like Grace and Diego during such a difficult time. She continues to push the issue away when they try to help by offering up the excuse of I’ll be just fine even though she won’t be fine and she is not fine.

So I drown it out like I always do Dancing through our house With the ghost of you And I chase it down With a shot of truth Dancing through our house With the ghost of you

With this, it’s both Five and the reader trying to ignore the reality of the situation they’re in. The reader tries to involve themselves in a brand new life. They make a group of friends, they spend time with Diego, they do piano, they do boxing, they work on their powers. The reader is drowning out the pain with other things but when it comes down to it she can’t escape the ghost of the memories living in the academy house.

As for Five, he turns to drinking to drown out the problem. When the pain of knowing that the reader isn’t there is too much he will chase down the problem with a shot of truth. Truth, in this case, being alcohol.

Cleaning up today Found that old Zepplin shirt You wore when you ran away And no one could feel your hurt We're too young, too dumb To know things like love But I know better now (Better now)

Even more so than finding his notebooks, I can see the reader helping Grace clean up some of the old rooms (excluding Five’s) and underneath Klaus’ bed she finds and old academy uniform, and although it’s not one that directly belongs to Five it’s still the exact outfit he wore on the day he ran away because he was angry and hurt by Reginald’s dismissal of him.

So I drown it out like I always do Dancing through our house With the ghost of you And I chase it down With a shot of truth That my feet don't dance Like they did with you

When I think of these last lines I imagine that on really lonely nights Five and the reader both get up and dance alone. They have their arms placed as if they were dancing with someone else as if they were dancing with each other, but there’s no one there but the empty air. Dancing alone, even in the loneliest of moments, is never the same as dancing with the other person.

Also like imagine this as a scene in the show with this song in the background: On a starry night in the apocalypse, Five is having a drink next to the reader’s makeshift grave at the ruins of the academy. Wanting some form of familiarity he gets up and starts to dance with the imaginary version of the reader that he has, even though he knows she isn’t real. At the same time, the Reader is in her room on a similar starry night and decides to pretend to dance with Five even though she knows he is not there. As they spin around dancing, the scene goes back and forth between Five in the apocalypse and the reader in her room making it look like they’re dancing together even though they are in two different places alone. As the song nears the final lines Five spins the reader out and there is a split-screen where Five is in the apocalypse with one arm extended and the reader is in her room with one arm out. It looks like they’re holding each other's hand but then the shots pan out and there’s nothing there. And the two of them sadly once again realize that they’re dancing through the shared house with a ghost of the other.

Just wanna add, I listened to the live version of the song, and god does it hurt to imagine Addison taking the reader to a concert and her hearing that song for the first time live. Like while everyone else is waving their cellphone flashlights side to side and having fun singing alone she just gets a distant look in her eyes as she remembers Five. Thinking of that is just like ugh, a stab in the heart really. I’d recommend it if you wanna be sad: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iwsXebE_f64 (watch 0:00-3:53)

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mashtonasfuck · 4 years

Text

protect the earth

Continuum Part 1

Characters: OT4

Chapter warnings: A mention of implied death with reference to an afterlife

Word Count: 1K

A note from Lucy: Here we go! Part 1 coming at you. She’s short, but I felt it was important to outline the lore in this universe before we go any further. If you have no idea what this is about, then please check out the links on this masterpost before reading! This is very different for me, so I hope you enjoy it! Special thanks, as always, to Beth.

You can find my masterlist here

This work must not be reposted anywhere - I do not give my permission for it to appear anywhere other than on my blog, or on my ao3 page.

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Calum stood in the corner of the room watching the scene unfold before him. He always hated this part. People’s lives changed in the blink of an eye and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. He could only guide them in the right direction, and hope that they heeded his words. Carrying souls onto their next life was usually Luke’s job - however the other man had been called elsewhere, Calum volunteering himself to take Luke’s place. Variety was the spice of life after all - or so he’d heard. Calum watched the heart monitor flatline and stepped further into the room. No one could see him unless he willed it, and he knew that this particular soul would struggle with the transition between lives. A shadowy figure rose from the bed, Calum reaching out to take their hand. The girl’s hand felt tiny in his own, a wave of sadness washing over him as she looked up at him in confusion.

“You’re okay, sweet one. It’s your time to move on.”

The girl furrowed her brows at Calum’s words, looking back at the people surrounding her earthly form.

“But what about Mummy and Daddy?” She looked up at Calum then, his heart aching for the life she wasn’t able to live.

“It’s not their time yet, love.” He explained gently, crouching down to her level, “but they will be okay, and you will see them again, I promise.”

The girl looked at him for a few seconds, tears threatening to spill over, before throwing herself at Calum. He cradled her in his arms as she cried, and he sighed internally. He knew this one would be difficult, but he didn’t realise how much it would affect him. He stood slowly, still holding the girl tight to his chest, before turning around and exiting the room.

–

In the beginning, it hadn’t been like this.

When the universe came to be, the four of them had been little more than atoms floating around an empty cosmos. A guiding force had shown each of them what they were to become - earth, air, fire and water - co-existing to create a balanced and ordered world. None of them remembered much about the beginning. They simply existed alongside each other, nurturing the world they had been entrusted with.

The air was the first to create a physical form. The winds came together to create Aether who floated across the earth, healing any part of creation that may need it. The earth followed not long after, giving life to Yggdrasil - the tree of all life and knowledge. From the water came Tangaroa, bringing forth life in the rivers and oceans. It was some time before fire offered up a physical form - eventually giving life to Vulcan.

All four beings existed in harmony for many years, until the day that Vulcan lost control.

The day had begun like any other with Aether chasing away the night and ushering in the day. Yggdrasil stood strong, surveying the realms and their inhabitants, sending word to Aether if anything was out of sorts. The water was calm and still, Tangaroa enjoying the dawning of the new day. Below them all, Vulcan was growing restless at being underground for so long. Their fury grew with each day that passed, the fire that burned inside them desperate for some sort of escape. The stillness of the world above was mocking them with each sunrise. As they surveyed their realm, Vulcan’s anger bubbled and boiled until the earth could contain it no longer. Lava spewed from a mountain top, laying waste to everything below it. Yggdrasil let out an unearthly scream as the fire from below landed upon the soil, Aether and Tangaroa immediately rushing to their aid. Tangaroa ordered great tsunamis to rise up over the land in an effort to contain Vulcan’s fury, whilst Aether created great winds to try and force Vulcan back under the ground. Where the fire met the wind, it did little to contain it. The more Aether tried to push it back, the more it spread. Realising that the winds were not going to prevent Vulcan’s assault on the land, Aether instead focussed on saving as much of creation as they could. Tangaroa was the only one who was able to match Vulcan’s might. The water doused the fire and halted it in its tracks, but the efforts were short lived. Vulcan spread their fury as far as they could, sending their fire to the furthest reaches of the earth. The further inland the fire burned, the harder it was for the water to combat it. Tangaroa called upon Aether to create great storms that would rain down upon Vulcan’s fire, turning the world dark. As quickly as they would douse the flames, more would surface. Their efforts were proving fruitless, but it was their duty to protect the earth - even from one of their own.

For many days and nights Vulcan laid waste to the land, the other three beings unable to contain the fury from below.

On the 10th day, Vulcan’s anger finally abated, a stillness falling across the world. The fire appeared to vanish back underground, and the storms gave way to the sun once more.

Yggdrasil surveyed the land all around, weeping at the devastation caused by Vulcan’s outburst. The earth smouldered under their gaze, the once plush landscape now an ashen grey. Where the lava had risen from beneath the oceans, new land had begun to form - the once clear horizon now littered with small islands. Yggdrasil paused for a moment to observe these new landmasses. The islands were still in their infancy, but Yggdrasil could feel that they were not to be feared. The energy from within these new formations was still too weak for Yggdrasil to connect to, but they could sense its presence. They pondered this for a moment - they could feel that the land was fertile and good. How could something so pure be borne out of so much devastation?

All three beings felt the moment that Vulcan rose to the surface. Tangaroa and Aether materialised at Yggdrasil’s side, watching as a shadowy figure began their descent from atop the mountain.

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So - it’s finally up! Thank you so much to everyone who’s been hyping this up over the last few days - I hope you enjoy this first look into the Continuum universe. I spent a long time researching for this fic, and hopefully that shows in this first chapter (my reference document for this fic is almost at 5000 words). The concept of religion is something that has fascinated me for a long time, and I enjoy reading about different deities from different religions. There is a lot more to come and I can’t wait to share more with you!

Disclaimer: I do not claim to know everything about the deities/religious figures that I mention in this fic. I’m sure there will be something I have misinterpreted, or just missed all together. Please know that it is not my intention to offend, or appropriate anyone’s religion.

Please let me know any thoughts/feelings you have about this so far! Shoot me a message here

If you want to be added to my taglist please fill in this form

Taglist: @pxrxmoore, @queer-5sos, @irwinkitten, @kindahoping4forever, @sadistmichael, @loveroflrh, @mysticalhood, @adoringlrh, @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles, @koalacal, @maluminspace, @malumsmermaid, @lashtonswildflower, @irwindoll, @castaway-cashton, @everyscarisahealingplace

#cashtonasfuck #cashtonasfuck writes #continuum #continuum part 1 #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer fanfic #calum hood fic #ashton irwin fic #luke hemmings fic #michael clifford fic

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joannie95 · 5 years

Text

Legacy Part- 25

Pairing: Carter! reader x ?????

Summary: Everyone knows Peggy Carter is a force to be reckoned with, who could have guessed her granddaughter would hold the same ferocity, if not more.This story follows y/n Carter’s life as she faces the obstacles life pitches her.

A/N: Since I explained the family I created for Sharon in the last chapter I will be referring to her as either Sharon or Agent Miller so it doesn't become confusing since the reader is also a Carter and Sharon never went by Agent Carter while working at SHIELD.

A/N: The descriptions for each weapon were found on Wikipedia

Warnings: None

Phil, Clint and Natasha stand in the corner as they watch you work. Ever since you saw Sharon you locked yourself in your lab; instead of sitting around and pouting, you decided to be productive.

"She looks angry." Phil notices the look on your face.

"Of course she's angry, you didn't tell her Sharon was here." The redhead stated.

"I did tell her!" He tried to defend himself.

"Actually you waited till she cornered you to tell her." The archer started laughing.

"Are you ladies done chatting, I'm trying to work over here." You heard a chorus of sorrys coming from them.

"Go find out what she's doing." Natasha slightly pushed Phil in your direction.

"Do you think I have some sort of death wish? Clint should go check."

"What? Why me?" He argued.

"You named your baby after her, do you really think she'd hurt you for bothering her."

You clench your fists and let out a breath; you were getting very irritated with them at this point, and were close to snapping. They started to get louder, arguing about who had the guts to bother you. "Alright, that's enough!" You slammed your hands down on the table. "You can either keep quiet while I work or leave."

"Sorry." They all looked down and mumbled in unison.

"Now if you'd all shut up for a second I can show you your new weapons." You said with a smile.

Natasha and Clint looked at each other and ran up to you with excitement in their eyes.

"They need a few adjustments but they're just about ready. Nat, I made you an electroshock weapon that can deliver electrical high powered discharges from two bracelets worn around your wrists when activated." You connect a few more wires, close up the panels and hand them to her.

"Each bracelet illuminates blue lights charged from electrical capacitors that wrap around the circumference of the bracelet allowing you to electrocute someone upon contact. I call them black widow's bite."

"Oh, I'll definitely get some use from this." She slides them on and watches in amazement as they light up.

"Clint I actually made you a couple of items. The first is a collapsible bow along with a specialized arrow quiver that is designed to organize and store arrows as well as assemble and present them on demand." You snap your arm and open the collapsible bow as you hand it to him.

You hand him each arrow as you list them off.

"They come with a standard arrow, a stun arrow that is non-lethal and knocks someone unconscious or into a dazed semi-conscious state. An explosive arrow that serves as a remote explosive that could be triggered via the remote in your bow. These arrows contain an explosive tip that can be detonated at any time after it's been fired on impact. Lastly, a grapple arrow with three small claw-like prongs that was made to function as a form of grappling hook."

"The second is a wrist bow that stores seven miniature arrows, three on either side and one in the centre already drawn ready for quick fire. Once it's fired another arrow moves into the center it includes standard arrows and grappling hook arrows."

He straps on the wrist bow and shoots an arrow that narrowly misses Phil.

"This is amazing." He lets out a laugh

"Do you guys mind giving Y/N and I a minute?" Phil walked up to the three of you.

They both furrowed their brows and gave looks of hesitation.

"It’s fine, I'll meet you guys later." They both walked out as Phil walked towards you.

"I know you're mad, and I'm sorry."

You let out a long breath.

"You know I'm not mad Phil, you know how I feel about Sharon so the fact that you didn't give me a heads up that she's here just hurt."

He pulled you into a hug. "I'm sorry, I promise if I ever hear anything you'll be the first to know."

"Thank you, Phil."

You both looked up when you hear Albert’s voice. "Miss Carter, Director Fury wants to speak with you.

"Alright, thank you, Albert." You look towards Phil with a raised brow. "Do you know what that's about?"

"Absolutely no idea." He puts his hands up in defense.

"What can I do for you, Nick?" When you arrive at his office you see him sitting behind his desk and Sharon standing to the side. She rolls her eyes as you walk up to the desk.

"I need you to train with Agent Carter, show her what to expect."

"You mean Agent Miller." You scoffed and crossed your arms.

You could see the look she was giving you, if looks could kill you'd be six feet under.

"No, find someone else. How about Natasha I'm sure she'd love to show her how it’s done." You said with a smirk on your face.

"I wasn't asking Agent."

"Nick, I'm sure there are better people I can train with."

"That's Director to you Agent, don't forget it." He raised his brow towards her.

You let out a small chuckle but once he looked at you, you covered your mouth and tried to pass it off as a cough.

"You two will train together and that's final."

"Yes, sir." You both mumbled and walked out of his office.

You turned and looked towards Sharon.

"Meet me in the training room in one hour. Don't be late." You walked away, not giving her a chance to speak.

You were sparring in the gym with Natasha and testing out her new weapons.

"She's half an hour late Nat, how does she expect us to take her seriously if she can't show up on time." You moved side to side, dodging every punch she threw.

She caught you off guard grabbed you by the wrist and flipped you onto your back.

"I don't know what your problem with each other is, but if this is how its always going to be, then I can't work with her. If we're going to be out on the field together, then I need to trust that she'll have my back, and being late is not helping her case."

Before standing back up you swept your feet and knocked her on her back. As you helped Natasha back up the doors swung open and Sharon walked in your direction.

" Agent Miller, you're late. When I told you to meet me here in an hour, I meant it."

"I'm here now aren't I?" She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

You walked up to her so you were right in her face.

"That doesn't matter, I gave you a specific time and you should have been here. If you're not gonna take this seriously then you can walk out that door."

"Yes, ma'am." She spoke with gritted teeth. You weren't sure if it was your tone, the fact that Natasha was standing behind you, or that you were giving her a threatening look, but she stood down.

The next hour was spent with you sparring with Sharon, knocking her on her ass a couple of times as Natasha watched from the sides.

"That's enough for today,” You slightly shoulder check her as you walk out. “Next time we train together, I expect you to be on time."

Legacy Tags:

@agentmarvel13 @1v-kayla @5sos-wdw @a-dancing-hufflepuff @annoylinglyaries @avngrsinitiative @bradfordsgreekgod @babypink224221 @captainam-erika-trash @carisi-sonny @chook007 @cosmiccomicloverqueen @daniellajocelyn @doctoranon @ecamille-xo @editsbyjenny @ellieababy @futuremissstark @gummiwormsandonedirection @henrietteoaks @hermionie-is-my-queen @ineedmorefanfics @isabella-bby @jaemingold @junitorials13 @katykyll @klanceiscannon14 @littlephoenix-fire @lovemarvelousfics @l0kisbitch @ludwigvonbaethoven @maddie-laufeyson @magnificentsoulecollector @mikariell95 @mistressoftorture @moli1497 @nanajaeminniee @orderoftheflamingflamingos @paintballkid711 @pastelpurplexoox @princessizzy36 @shallowshawn @sillydecoy @spodermanpete @starstruckgardenstudentzonk @stuckyandsciencebros @thatweirdchick147 @tienna-laufeeyson16 @wishiwasanavenger @xalinx @zaza-jones @izzyisavengersupernaturaltrash

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x-ximenas · 4 years

Text

Midnight (Pt. 3)

Prompt: Midnight - 5SOS. A bit of Stay - Post Malone and When You Walk Away - 5SOS

Pairing: Female!Reader/Roger Taylor

Warnings: Sad sad things, angst, alcohol consumption and my terrible grammar and punctuation remember English’s not my first language.

Word Count: 3,102 words

A/N: So sorry for taking this long to put this up, I was waiting for my proofreader to answer my e-mail but before I realised a long long LOOOONG time had passed, so I decided to just post it, I gotta admit it’s not my best work, but I hope the people that enjoyed the past few bits enjoy this one as well. If you liked this bit, I’d love to hear some comments! If you’d like to be added to a taglist for upcoming parts comment, dm me, ask me… just communicate with me!

A/N pt.2: Like most of the time, I took a few literary liberties, there are some movie things, there’s some real stuff, so… yeah.

A/N pt.3: If you’re looking to read some Brian stuff, I have a multipart story (pt. 1, pt. 2) -sadly not finished- but if you read it and like it, I’ll do my best to do something about it.

// Part 1 // Part 2 //

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The last few days had broken the cycle Y/N had remained in for the last few years, yet they remained monotonous all the same.

Quite in brand for the London life, the birds never came out to bask in the sun, for the sun never came, similarly to Y/N it had stayed hidden behind the grey coloured clouds too scared to face the outside. For tourist or newcomers, the clouds were a threat and an impediment when you desired to tell what time was it; you could barely distinguish when time passed, for the colour palette remained the same, a scale of greys that lightened or darkened as the hands of the clock advanced.

The bed Y/N laid on had never felt this cold and empty, she had lost the shield that protected her body from the incoming breeze that blew through the open windows; now, all she faced was an old scent that brought tears to her eyes, tears that ultimately fell, no matter how hard she tried to stop them from doing so -how stupid are you? she reprimanded herself with an unconvincing tone. Those tears were hot and burned the skin as they rolled down her face, they were tears fo anger and disgust, feelings not only directed towards herself but directed to Roger as well.

The route that travelled from her door to her room looked deserted because as of lately there were no clothes to pick up from the carpeted floors. Her skin had grown quickly unaccustomed to him, there were no ghosts of kisses and touches, she had even lost the few bruises his lips had painted on her skin. Not only did he walk out of her life -unwillingly so, for the note that he left behind didn't hint on his activities- he had left her body, but not her soul, never her soul, and that pained her.

A knock...

A single knock.

If Y/N could describe said knock the word that first crawled inside her mind would be undecisive, maybe hesitant, especially because there were no other knock following the first. To Y/N it was evident who was knocking on her door, she quickly discarded the thought of her friends checking on her for they had no decency and no respect for her personal space they tended to just walk in without an invitation, unlocking the door with the spare key Y/N had given them years ago; this person was Roger, she was certain of that, he always waited for her to open the door for him, to answer for his calls, but due to the recent situation he had placed them into she had no energy to answer the door for him, to look him in the eyes and not burst into tears of both anger and hurt.

Roger had come in search for her before and she never answered, he swore that once -a few days ago- she locked the door right before him rejecting his presence; other times he had heard her choke sobs, not quite prepared to talk to him. It broke him to pieces to hear her cry and not do anything to stop it, furthermore, he knew that he was the cause to her tears, her cries and her pain. He was well aware of his actions, but standing there, with only a wall separating the two of them he realised he never thought of the consequences they would bring.

"Y/N, please open the door, I really want to talk, I... I'm sorry" Roger's voice drawled out, a hint of exhaustion deep in his voice, annoyment was soon to find a home there too if Y/N kept on ignoring him. His usual raspy voice had lowered its tune a few semitones and the roughness of the rasp became more prominent, such tone made Y/N shiver and her heart ache. She wasn't ready, not quite, not yet.

Y/N's mind had been running in circles, more than ever before, she wasn't sure on what to do with the situation and herself, troubled when thinking about ways to explain her knotted up mind, how to get out the heartbreak in sentences and also explain her anger and all the strong emotions that ran through her body for people to understand -maybe even help herself understand. Every time she thought about what to do she came empty-handed, she had tried to prepare a speech that soon was going to be presented to the perpetrator of her afflictions, a speech that was supposedly helping to fully convey her feelings, a mirror where he could gaze into and turn into a person that understood, a song that he could resonate with, a painting that he could break apart to gaze at the full picture. She wanted for him to understand how troubled her mind had become, but her words trembled, the mirror broke every time, the song was offbeat and the painting was off frame.

She let time pass, she did reach the door but she never found the strength to open it, she just stood in front of it, leaning on the back of couch placed near, her back was arched forward as her arms crossed on her chest pulling the front of her sweater closer to her in hopes that it could aid with the coldness that she currently felt.

Their bodies were placed parallel to each other, the wall and door parallel as well. Roger was leaning on the door, his arm resting on the cold material, his head finding its place on top of it soon enough, his gaze was lowered, but his eyes were closed, he knew she wouldn't open the door, but he was going to die trying, hoping to make things right.

"Please..." he whispered, the sound blocked by the door, never reaching her ears.

Y/N was just waiting, she was expecting the sound of his steps indicating his departure. With a sigh Roger took his head off the wood, sparing one last look at the door before leaving, he was tired of coming, of calling but he had to leave things straight with her, she deserved as much, he made the mistake of not doing just that before, he had to at least do it now. His steps were slow and dragged out, not caring to pick up his feet as he went and with that Y/N empathizes, for she felt as tired as his steps sounded.

Y/N let a breath escape from between her lips as she felt herself unwind, her shoulders loosening as she finally sat down on the single sofa she was just leaning into. Her eyes stung and her throat felt tight and constricted, she felt like crying her eyes out, but the tears never came. Her eyes resembled the ever-threatening clouds that hovered over London, omnipresent and always grey, but not omnipotent, not always ready to rain down.

As Y/N stared out the window her mind divagated, ever since she caught Roger with Gina she did such thing more often, her mind was always active, always working on a memory or a thought, but mostly remembering. Her head was mostly filled with the poisonous memory of Roger holding someone else, causing pain to pull at her heart; other times she filled in the gap with memories that once upon a time she considered oh-so-joyful that even made her hopeful, that helped the threading of an unrealistic future with Roger, now all that they brought were pain and a strange feeling of incompetence.

Y/N shook her shoulders as if it could help to shake the venomous thoughts that constipated her head, pulling her hair from between her fingers she bit her lip, holding down a scream. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, reddening the skin around the pressure point, she felt stressed and sad, angry but lonely.

Her lip started to hurt badly, her teeth had been sinking into the soft skin far too long, but she took notice her lips weren't the only thing that stained, the palms of her hands' pounding and burning from how hard her nails had been digging there as well.

Y/N's emotions had been taking different directions and rightly so. She got sad and cold whenever Roger was near her when she could sense his presence from behind the thin walls; but just as soon as he left a sudden feeling of heat and anger boiled through her veins, the sadness and pity she felt dissipated whenever red clouded her view. Said red was quick to soften, but it never turned to pink, that colour had been long forgotten, only grey was left when the numbness and emptiness returned.

A huff escaped her lips as she stood up from the couch, a hand rubbing the right side of her face as she headed to the bathroom, despite her initial idea of not wanting to leave the house too afraid to even go near alcohol she finally decided against said original thought. Since the encounter at the café -if you could even call it that- she hadn't touched a single droplet of alcohol, she had tried her best to stay away from it, afraid that it would ultimately lead her to Roger and her spitting out her feelings the wrong way; but oh, did she crave the burn of the booze down her throat, she desired the warmth it provided, warmth that she lacked for she had no one resting by her side, just a ghost of a memory that she desired to get rid off with the daziness that alcohol provided.

In an automated way, Y/N prepared the shower for her liking and jumped under the water, the warmth it provided as well as the force it hit with quickly made her muscles lose some tension. Y/N finished showering soon enough, doing a quick job on drying her body before wrapping a towel around her chest and another around her hair.

Y/N headed to her room and as she passed her mirror she couldn't help but notice how red the skin around her eyes and nose had become from the constant crying and blowing off the nose; a groan left her mouth accompanied with a 'fuck', her demeanour quickly changing when she remembered that no one really cared. So with that same attitude, she headed towards her closet, pulling out a pair of bell-bottomed high-waisted jeans and a white blouse, pairing the whole outfit with a pair of dark brown boots.

As she stared at the mirror her hands travelled to her face, pressing her cold fingertips against the swollen skin. After she felt the tips of her fingers warming up she loosened the pressure, moving her hands upwards to her hair, teasing it slightly as she ran her fingers through the knotted up strands; then she picked up the strands in both of her hands, pulling it upwards in a high ponytail, and as she stared at her reflection she realised that her face was better off with all her hair being pulled away from the frame of her face, so she took the end of the makeshift ponytail and started twirling it around her fingers, laying the twist of hair on top of her head, keeping it in place with a series of hairpins and a rosé coloured ribbon.

Taking her purse from where she had hung it up by the door she headed out her cold flat and as she reached outside the building she lived in a gust of air hit her face, a few drops of leftover rain hit her skin leaving a refreshing feeling behind, she felt alive for a few seconds as she breathed in the familiar scent of petrichor a sigh of content naturally escaping from her.

The time she took in search of a cab was short and before she realised she was in her usual pub, Ben waving at her from the bar, wave she could barely reciprocate as her mind fogged up with even more images of Roger, images she hoped that alcohol will blackout soon enough.

Plopping down on the uncomfortable seat of the bar stool Y/N's eyes met with Ben's and without the need of words, he kept himself busy making her a drink, he could tell by how the corners of her eyes sloped downwards and how her teeth pulled on the inside of her cheek that something had happened and he was willing to listen to whatever she had to say.

He placed the tall glass in front of her as he leaned in her direction, making her huff through her nose and twist her neck to face him, a dark look crossing her eyes, a strange combination of anger and maybe even grief, sadness and hatred, but not towards Ben; he knew that look well enough, having been in the receiving end of it many times, but never the recipient of the feelings, he was aware of the fact that she needed more alcohol to even get her tongue loose enough to start spilling out whatever was pulling at her severely hurt heart.

It was drink after drink, Ben obviously had to keep count of them but numbers never crossed Y/N's mind, she just needed for the number to grow enough for her eyes to blur from the intoxication and not from tears. A sad trembling sigh escaped Y/N's lips making Ben's head shoot up, it was his queue, she was ready to talk.

"Is it my fault?" Y/N said, her voice hoarse from the lack of use.

"What did I do? What does she have that I don't? Did I arrive at the wrong time? Did I meet him at the wrong time? Because I don't know how to explain any of this, was it me? Did I feel too much? Did I do too much? Was I too much?" Y/N's eyes met Ben's as her words slipped from her lips constant but shaky all the same. Tears had started to pool yet they stayed static on the rims of her eyes, threatening to fall on the wooden bar. Her breathing was accelerated, heaving and she looked as if she was starting to have a hard time doing it.

Ben's hands held hers, tenderly rubbing circles on the soft skin of the back of her hand "Breathe with me -inhale, exhale- and tell me what happened that made you question yourself like this, you're not making any sense, love."

"He has someone else, Ben, he's been fucking someone else and he's been seeing her in public, he holds her hand, he kisses her in the street... It's- It's like someone crawled inside my head and decided to fuck with me, this someone hates me! Th-they decided to give me the most beautiful wings I have ever seen, they knew I wanted to-to fly! But -Y/N inhaled quickly, her hands moving from side to side as pain controlled her words and motions, then she proceeded- as I was ready to flutter away to-to the stars, the sun in search of my desired reality they f-fucking ripped the wings off, they brunt them even when they were still attached to my body and made me watch it all, they laughed in my face... This someone cut my brain open and realised what I feared the most and made my harshest insecurities a reality" Y/N's words were poetic sounding, the use of allegories and metaphors were nothing new for Ben, quite used to the way Y/N expressed herself.

As Ben was ready to tell her some reassuring words that might or might not help ease the pain that burnt through Y/N's body, she interrupted him. "It was such a foul move, I felt betrayed Ben... Does destiny, God or fucking- ugh! I don't know, who hates me that much? Why after the night we had did I have to see that? Why did I have to fucking see him walking into the café he knows I love with another girl? Why? Why couldn't he just tell me he had someone else? Why does he make it seem as if I was nothing to him? As if I meant nothing? Why does he make it seem so easy to just not care? -then Y/N's voice lowered to a mumble- Why did he call me his? Why did he say he was mine when he clearly isn't? Why think about a future that doesn't exist?" Said that she pulled out the crumpled up note he had left on her on the countertop of her kitchen, the paper felt heavy on her hands it burned her skin and as her eyes skimmed past the last few words left on the note -'A future for the two of us'- her eyes burned too.

Ben was left with his mouth agape, so many tiny revelations pushed in a single statement that made his heart hurt for the poor girl in front of him. He looked at her -no, he observed- her hands were in fists and he could swear that he had caught a glimpse of a crescent-shaped figure on her palm when she unflexed her fingers; her eyes were red and the skin looked irritated from the constant brushing of the tissues and other fabrics she used to wipe away the tears, tears were constantly invading her eyes they were almost intermittent, never quite falling but always present; her posture that usually shifted between trying to look confident and relaxed was tense, she was hunched over herself, some people might describe the posture as a shame and insecurity ridden posture and it felt so strange on her.

Y/N sniffed and stood up from the stool, pulling her purse up to her chest, attempting to pull out enough money to pay for the alcohol she had drank; she wasn't sure how much money she had handed Ben, but she trusted him enough to know that he wouldn't have added drinks that she hadn't actually drunk to her bill so with a tired smile she finally decided that it was time to tap out.

Waling outside the pub she was met once again with the familiar weather, humid with a light wind, she breathed in as if to help her ease herself before hailing a cab. A black car stopped in front of the pub and as Y/N sat down on the leather seats of the cab she offered the driver a kind smile.

"Where to?" He asked, but Y/N's heart spoke before her head did and so, she found herself heading to Roger's place.

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lukeysgirl · 5 years

Note

hi i was wondering if you could do one with calum where he finds out you cut yourself or he sees your cuts and just what his reaction would be plsss thank you i love your writing

of course! it’ll be a bit graphic though so be wary…

warning: this involves self-harm and sensitive topics

i m a g i n e sitting in the kitchen of the boys’ beautiful pad on the cliff side of Laguna Beach, California.

You could hear the boys exchange words and bursts of laughter in the living room, forcing yourself to bite your bottom lip in envy. It wasn’t like you were the only one who had to suffer this unrelenting sadness, but it seemed like it tortured you more than it did the people around you. The boys, for example, are a sad lot who have their moments but are always ready to get back up and smile again.

You, though, were different.

The poison in your mind poked at your thoughts constantly, feeding you lies in order to reel in a reaction. And unfortunately, the results were typically expected and very, very grave.

You held the small pocket knife in your hand, the carbon fiber handle warming up quickly in your palm. You could feel your hand get clammy, but that wasn’t something that bothered you much. So much so, you paid no mind to it. Your head was busy focusing on the cold blade that tickled your wrist as you lightly dragged the knife up and down your forearm.

I shouldn’t, you thought to yourself, attempting to rebel against your depression. But it was much smarter than you, knowing that you’d attempt to think your way out of it.

Tears begin to well up in your eye sockets as you press the blade into your flesh, denting into it but not quite cutting it. You were begging with yourself to stop, your bottom lip escaping your teeth to quiver in fear. But you already had the blade ready to carve, and your mind was more than ready to start.

And with that, your drag the blade down as harshly as you could.

One… two… three… five… eight…

All you could do was watch as your hand had a mind of its own. You could feel your flesh open up unwillingly, bringing much discomfort all around your body through your veins. You could the blood flow down your forearm and drip to the floor, creating a small puddle. Some of your salty tears drop onto your arm, unsure if it was adding to the pain or not.

But the suffering was loud enough that you didn’t even hear Calum offer another round of beers and began towards the kitchen to get them.

“Hey Y/N,” your boyfriend hums as he grabs the handle of the stainless steel refrigerator door and shuffles around for beer. You felt your heart begin to race, unsure as to how you were going to explain all of this to Calum because this conforntation was surely to be inevitable. “Why aren’t you in the living room with all of us–”

His brown orbs look over at you while closing the door, his hand now holding a pack of beer. They narrow at your back, having you shut your eyes as though it would help. But only silence ensued as Calum’s eyes first looked at your back, noticing that your shoulders, arms, and back were exposed.

To keep your scars a secret, you always wore flannels, sweaters/sweatshirts, and long-sleeved shirts.

So to be showing this much upper body was extremely foreign to Calum. He then looked down to see the crimson mess that was forming on the white tiles. Immediately, Calum puts the beer down and grabs your shoulders to turn you around. He sees the knife in your hand and aggressively removes it from your hand.

“Y/N, what the fuck!?” Calum shouts astonishingly, his eyes completely horrified. You looked away from his as you felt his hard, calloused hands carefully hold your damaged forearms. Blood was coating his fingers, but he wasn’t paying too much attention to that. “Wh-what are you… doing…”

“I…” you began in a whisper, your mouth still open but words refusing to exit. “I’m… I’m sor-ry…” Sniffles and uncontrollable breathing made it difficult to attempt to explain, let alone speak. You knew that this wasn’t a sight anyone would like to see and you hated to show the person you love this.

“Baby, no no no,” Calum quietly whimpers, his eyes threatening to cry as he continues to gently hold your forearms. You could see the hurt in his face, with his cheeks rosy and soft lips trembling. “Why? Why would you do this to yourself, Y/N?”

“I don’t…” you whisper, going quiet without finishing the sentence. But Calum knew how it would end as he stares sadly at your bloody arms. You were fearful for the rest of his reaction, but you withstood it and allowed him to stare at you.

But, you didn’t expect him to let go of your arms and begin shifting through the cabinets of the kitchen. Your eyes followed his movements as he takes out a towel from the lower cabinet and heads towards the sink. Calum wets the towel enough for it to be damp but not soaking as he twists the towel between his hands to remove the excess water.

He then returns to you, without any change in his face, “come.” You raise your forearms hesitantly up to him, offering them while waiting to see what he would do next. You then feel the warm towel sit on your arms.

“Ow…” you mouthed, watching as he began to dab the towel to remove the blood on your arms. It stung harshly, but it wasn’t enough to have you yelp in pain. You simply watched in awe as Calum removed all the blood from your arms. It left a somewhat light red residue, but it was no longer a bright red mess.

Calum then bends his legs and begins to clean the floor with the same towel, flipping it over to use a clean, unused side. You resumed staring as he cleans the floor up, washes the towel and tosses it on the counter to dry. He then gets another dry towel and puts it over your forearms.

“Let’s go upstairs and fix you up,” Calum suggests warmly. “Okay, beautiful?” He gives you that cute, gentle smile that makes your heart skip countless beats. You just stared at him, forgetting the pain.

“You’re…” you began quietly, “you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be?” Calum asks as though you asked something silly. “My baby is suffering. I’m going to support you for the rest of my life, Y/N. That includes emotionally as well.”

“But you don’t have to,” you insisted, “I’m such a burden. Especially when my body is basically trying to kill itself.”

“You act as if I’d let that happen,” Calum began as he pressed his hand against your back. “I love you, and that includes loving your flaws and imperfections.” You were still in awe but Calum just chuckled and pressed his lips against your forehead. “Your scars and wounds are absolutely beautiful, Y/N, and I can’t imagine having you any other way.” He pauses and shakes his head. “Let me rephrase– I’d rather you not hurt yourself but the way you are now is perfect to me. I want to be here for you for the rest of my life and fight your demons with you.”

Calum… you just looked at him as he began to lead you towards to the bathroom to fix your arms up. And as he did, you could feel Calum’s fingers just gently dent into your back, completely soothing you and making you feel safe.

omg i havent written any 5sos stuff in so long, i hope this was good!! please reblog n like n let me know what u think! also, leave some reqs in the inbox, im back and ready to write

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fandomblues · 5 years

Text

Project Best Friend [Billy Hargrove]

Fandom ; Stranger Things

Pairings ; Billy Hargrove x Harrington!Reader

Summary ; The thought of hating Billy Hargrove had been ingrained into your mind by your brother, but after being forced to spend time with the boy you were supposedly supposed to dislike, it became apparent you never really disliked him at all.

Warning(s) ; swearing

Word Count ; 2.9k+

Author’s Note ; i know i’ve been gone forever and this crappy piece of writing probably doesn’t make up for it and i’m really sorry. i’ve been having such writer’s block for the stuff on this blog and i haven’t had much inspiration to write anything especially with stranger things having been gone for so long. i’m a lot more active on my sideblog @cloudfiveclub these days if you guys wanna chat about 5sos/cnco or just in general really xx

masterlist

this is for @moonstruckhargrove ‘s 1k writing challenge! sorry for such a late submission love 😫

Well, fuck me.

Your eyes shifted from your teacher to the back of a mullet which sat a few desks away from you. You gritted your teeth, eyebrows automatically pulling together at the mention of the boy’s name. As if in slow motion, Billy Hargrove twisted around in his seat, throwing you a smug smile. His tongue slithered out to wet his bottom lip, and his left eye fell shut in a flirtatious wink.

Your breath hitched in your throat when he did that, and your eyes widened on cue as you glared back at him menacingly. When he caught sight of your reaction, Billy pulled his lips together in a sarcastic pout and frowned; mocking your obvious displeasure at having been paired with him for the project.

You let out a heavy breath as you gripped the sides of your desk angrily. You felt like you could almost break the wooden table in half in your current state.

“Miss Harrington? Is it quite alright with you?” your teacher, Mrs Blanchard questioned. She gazed at you over her spectacles, obviously concerned at your reaction.

Every one of your classmates immediately turned around to face you, and all 26 pairs of eyes were on you. You glanced around the classroom, noting the obvious eagerness in everyone’s eyes as they awaited your answer.

It wasn’t a secret at Hawkins High that Billy and your brother were archenemies. You had wanted to steer clear of Steve’s drama at the beginning, but your sibling had very selfishly dragged you into his petty feud with the Californian boy, and that was the end of your regular life. And, of course, as the baby sister of Steve Harrington, there was the expectation that you were supposed to hate Billy just like him. You’d never had any personal run-ins with Billy, and he seemed like an unpleasant person on the surface, seeing as how that was the only side you had ever seen of him whenever he came to provoke your brother.

Your eyes swept across the room nervously once more, before you made eye contact with Billy once again. He raised his eyebrows at you, clearly giving you a “I dare you to say no” look. You shrunk back in your seat when he did that, and kicked yourself mentally for even feeling slightly threatened by him.

Still, your mouth fell open, and you found yourself telling Mrs Blanchard that everything was fine.

“What?!”

Steve’s face was mere inches away from yours, and his loud protest had startled you dearly. You jumped at the sudden loudness of his voice, grumbling silently as you folded your arms across your chest.

“It wasn’t my decision...,” you protested weakly, a hint of whine evident in your voice. Steve stared at you with eyes as large as saucers, scoffing in disbelief. He shook his head profusely, slamming his locker shut, which caught the attention of a few students around the both of you. His eyes swept across the hallway, throwing everyone an annoyed look, and immediately everyone turned away from the two of you to mind their own business.

“Y/N, I am not putting you alone with that douchebag,” he stated simply, lowering his voice so no one else could hear the both of you. You gritted your teeth as you looked up at your brother.

“Steve, I don’t have a choice! Mrs Blanchard won’t let me change partners this far into the day!” you whisper-shouted back.

“You know how Billy is, he’s going to take liberties with you and there is no way in hell I’m-”

“-Steve, it’s only for like two weeks. I promise I’ll be careful and it’s going to be over really fast. I-”

“What are you two talking about?”

Billy interjected your conversation with Steve, coming up behind you like a ninja and immediately slinging his arm around your shoulders. Neither you nor Steve had even noticed him; who knew how long he had even been listening in on your discussion.

Your brother breathed out heavily as he expressed his annoyance at Billy’s actions wordlessly. He reached out, yanking you forward and away from the denim-clad boy roughly as he attempted to put distance between the both of you. You let out a yelp when he did so, but failed to make any sort of protest.

“Nothing that concerns you,” Steve said between clenched teeth, staring the other boy down. Billy snorted, but failed to make any comeback.

“Well, I’m just here to collect your sister because if you haven’t already heard, Harrington, we have a project to work on together that is thirty percent of our final grade. So if you would very kindly-”

“Yeah, like I’m going to just hand her over and leave her alone with someone like you, Hargrove,” Steve interrupted meanly.

Billy’s eyes widened as if on cue, and he took an intimidating step forward, hands balling into fists in anger.

“Someone like me? What’s that supposed to mean, Harrington?” he questioned lowly. You could almost hear the growl in his voice, and before things could escalate, you hopped out of Steve’s grasp anxiously. You threw him a warning glare and wedged yourself between the both of them to stop any fists from flying, laughing nervously.

“Alright, that’s enough. I’ll see you at home, Steve,” you rushed out, grabbing Billy’s arm and pulling him away from your sibling. You rushed your partner out the building before Steve could start complaining about anything.

“Ooh, aren’t you eager to get me alone?” Billy teased as you slowed to a stop in front of his car that was parked in the usual spot. The parking lot had been mostly cleared by this time, so Billy and you were the only two people there at the moment.

You huffed, letting his arm go and rolling your eyes.

“Don’t keep deluding yourself, Hargrove. I just hate my brother’s over-protectiveness as much as you do,” you replied, stepping away from him and making your way over to the passenger side.

You saw him roll his eyes out of the corner of yours, but he unlocked his car anyway and climbed into the driver’s side. You pulled the passenger door and got in with him, and an almost awkward silence settled between the both of you.

You had never been alone with Billy at all, in fact, you barely knew him. The only conversations you had ever had with him were never the good ones; you only ever talked to him to stand up for your brother. But now, you had to do a whole school assignment with him then would eventually contribute to the decision of whether you could advance to senior year or not.

Billy broke the silence first by breathing out deeply.

“So where we heading?” he asked as he started up his car, revving up the engine.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Uh, the library, I guess. We can source for information there first,” you half-suggested.

Billy then frowned, turning to face you. “Wait, you were serious about working on the project?”

Your jaw dropped when he said that. You scoffed in disbelief, shaking your head. But honestly, why were you even surprised? This was Billy Hargrove you were working with. If anything, you should be surprised he even bothered to come and look for you to at least suggest getting to work.

Yeah right, Y/N, you know he really just wants to get in your pants.

You pushed that last thought out of your head, and threw him a “duh” look anyway.

“Yes, Billy, you said it yourself that it carries thirty percent of our final grade so it’s important. And two weeks can actually go by really fast so we shouldn’t waste anytime,” you pointed out, placing emphasis on his name.

He cocked an eyebrow but uncharacteristically kept his mouth shut, simply speeding off towards the library.

“You know, you actually look like an aardvark when you’re upside down.”

You gritted your teeth in annoyance at Billy’s dumb comment, turning around to glare at your partner. He laid upside down on his bed, feet leaning up against the wall and head dangling off the edge as he stared at you, head tilted slightly in amusement.

God, you would never admit it to yourself but Billy was super attractive. Especially with him looking at you like that. But still, just because he was being cute you couldn’t let him slack.

“Can you just get down here and help me out?” you demanded, facing your work again as you extended the line of your timeline. Your hand twitched, and the ruler shifted slightly, causing you to mess up the perfect line you had been attempting to draw.

You two had been tasked with coming up with an essay and clear explanation on the cause of The Great Depression and the first few days were spent at the library, collecting information and borrowing necessary materials. But then the both of you got into a whole series of dumb arguments every half an hour. You had caused such a ruckus the librarian banned you from the library after a string of repeated warnings.

So that paved the way to the argument on whether the two of you should work on the project at your house or Billy’s. Both of you didn’t want to go to each other’s place and neither of you were very willing to compromise, but after almost a whole hour of tantrums, you decided to toss in the towel and agreed to head to his place.

So that’s where you were at the moment. And unfortunately for you, Billy was near impossible to work with. He got distracted every ten seconds and you had no idea how you were going to get through working with him for another twelve days. The only good side you could see to this arrangement was that he was nice to look at, which would help your brain relax after thinking about such a depressive event for such a long time.

“Oh, so bossy,” Billy joked as he rolled over, sliding down onto the floor to sit next to you. He leaned over your shoulder as he watched you correct your line, breathing heavily against your hair annoyingly on purpose. He seemed to love getting under your skin.

You jerked your shoulder to push him away, but it only threw him off for a moment before he went back to irritating you.

“Look, Billy, why don’t you make yourself useful?” You said in a huff, reaching across the paper to grab a borrowed book to toss it at him. “Pick out the important keywords. Important years or dates. Draft up the first version of our essay. Whatever, I don’t know.”

You heard him sigh heavily behind you, followed by the flipping of several pages and the scratching of pencil lead against paper. You sighed quietly in relief at the prospect of finally having gotten Billy to contribute to your work. Both of you worked in silence for a while, before Billy tapped you on your shoulder to get your attention.

You turned to face him, only to be greeted by him shoving the book in your face. You blinked in surprise, withdrawing back to get a clearer look at what he was trying to show you. Scribbled on the bottom right corner of the borrowed library book, was a tiny doodle of you. Your head been drawn large and wide, disproportionate to your cartoon body. Billy had drawn your eyes large and bug-like, and had over-exaggerated your curls. The only way you could identify that it was even a drawing of you was the distinctive and very accurately drawn angry frown that was plastered on your face, the same frown that you so often threw Billy.

You gasped all too loudly, snatching the book from Billy hurriedly as he snorted. “Billy! This is public property!” You squeaked. You thought you would’ve been steaming mad, but for some odd reason, you couldn’t help the dumb smiled that crawled onto your face. The drawing was so fucking pathetic but hilarious.

Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.

You coughed when you realised you had let a grin slip through, and you re-wore your annoyed look, tossing a glare at Billy. But he had seen your smile; he had gotten you to stop being so pissy and serious about everything. You huffed, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you stared him down. He had that stupid smile on his charming face.

“Ha! So you do know how to smile, Harrington. For a second I thought you were only engineered to be mad all the time,” he teased. This time, you let the giggle escape, and you doubled over, clenching your stomach as you laughed alongside with Billy.

Fast forward two weeks, you were starting to realise you liked Billy a little too much.

But in your defence, he was charming as hell. You did try finding excuses to dislike him at least a little, but each time nothing came up and instead, your heart gave you reason to find ways to spend more time with him, much to Steve’s dismay especially. Sure, you guys had that project to work on together, but you found yourself more and more unwilling to actually leave him after you guys were done for the day. You started looking forward to school just because you knew you would see him.

And really, after actually bothering to get to know him and spend a few days with him, you realised he was pretty nice company to have around. He wasn’t as rowdy or asshole-like as people said he was. He was actually nice to you. Sure, he liked annoying you and messing with you, but you knew it was all in good fun.

Plus, once you started being less serious, you strangely noticed, Billy was more willing to put in effort into the project. And you guys actually made a pretty decent team, and you were actually proud of how you stuff turned out. So came the deadline and you turned your work in, hoping that Mrs Blanchard would give you guys a good grade. The lesson went by ordinarily, but Billy caught you on the way out.

“Hey, Harrington. Good job on that project,” he congratulated, slinging his arm carelessly over your shoulders. You laughed, steering him to the side and down the hallway so as not to block the other students who were exiting the class. You noted the strange looks people tossed you; confused as to how Steve Harrington’s sister was getting along so well with Billy Hargrove himself.

“Don’t get your hopes up so high. I think we did a good job, but Mrs Blanchard may think differently,” you pointed out as the both of you made your way to your locker. He waved your concerns off, plastering a smug smile on his face.

“I think we’ll do amazingly. We make a great team, don’t you think?” he asked. You raised your eyebrows, pink tinting your cheeks at his question and you nodded along hesitantly. “So my place as usual?”

You stopped abruptly in the middle of the corridor, turning to face him in confusion. “But we’re done with the project,” you told him, although your tone made it come out sounding more like a question.

“So?” he snorted as he resumed walking, pulling you along with him. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Friends. The word seemed to roll so nicely and naturally off his tongue. He seemed so comfortable saying it, and it sort of hit you at that moment that it seemed that Billy actually really, genuinely liked hanging around you. Not like how he pretended with Tommy and Carol and a few others. He had confessed this to you when you both were taking a break from working a few days ago.

But as much as it made you feel special, you still couldn’t help the disappointment. But why the hell were you even disappointed? Still, you threw Billy a grin, nodding in agreement.

“Of course we are.”

The both of you stopped at your locker and he leaned against the one next to yours. You were very fully aware of how his eyes were on you the whole time you were getting your stuff, but you chose to ignore it. Billy did a lot of stuff you could never really explain, so you just left it.

“You know, Max is actually staying back for a few today,” Billy suddenly said. You quirked an eyebrow when he said that as you shelved a textbook in your locker.

“So do you want to just drive around for a while?” he continued, drumming his fingers against the locker door next to yours, softly creating a clanging sound. You narrowed your eyes at him. There was a suspicious feeling you couldn’t shake, but you had no idea what it was. But you shrugged anyway, agreeing to his suggestion.

“Why not?” You said, before looking around playfully. “Just make sure Steve doesn’t see us,” you teased. Billy couldn’t resist rolling his eyes at the mention of your brother. You were well aware he still hated him to the core although he considered the both of you as friends.

“Fuck him,” Billy said crudely, earning a warning but playful glare from you. He smirked at you and brought his face a little closer to yours. “Should I fuck you too?”

Classic Billy. You knew he was joking, but you still blushed. “Ha Ha, very funny,” you said sarcastically. “I hate you.”

You closed your locker and slung your bag on, only for Billy to swoop in and place his arm round your shoulder again.

“Yeah, tell me again,” he joked, bringing you closer to him as the two of you stumbled down the hallway. “You love me,” he added on, almost like an afterthought.

You rolled your eyes when he said that but laughed anyway.

“Keep telling yourself that, Hargrove.”

| TAGS |

@dacremontgomerylover @so-not-hotmess @moonstruckhargrove

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove imagine #dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery x reader #stranger #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #moonstruckhargrove1k

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whatevertbbhhb · 5 years

Text

Amnesia (Loki x Reader songfic)

Word Count: 2070

This was inspired by the 5sos song “Amnesia”

Its really badly written angst, I guess

I drove by all the places we used to hand out getting wasted

Y/N slid into the stool next to me.

“Cmon Loki!” She urged “Just one drink!”

“I don't wish to become like my obnoxious, frankly quite rowdy brother.” I mumbled in response, sipping at my water.

She scoffed. “Loki I’m sure that you would be a much more dignified drinker than your brother.”

My expression remained stoic, however, and she took note.

“Allright then. Suit yourself.”

“Come lady Y/N let us dance.” Thor boomed, appearing by my side and making me cringe. She took his outstretched hand and began to dance with Thor.

I tried to calm myself down. Assure myself that there was nothing between Y/N and Thor, but i couldn't shake my feeling of discomfort. I snatched up a shot from the tray beside me and downed it in one go.

“Y/N” I tapped her shoulder and she turned to face me. Her cheeks were pink and her hair was slightly damp as she squealed and grabbed my arm, pulling me deeper into the crowd.

“Loki stop being so stiff!” she laughed, swinging her hips. As the alcohol began to take its effect, I slowly felt myself begin to let go as well as I placed my hands on her hips and began to dance.

I thought about our last kiss how it felt the way you tasted

“That up there,” I said, guiding Y/N’s arm to the right angle, is Sirius, and that's Auriga. Right next to that bright star, way to left, is Sagittarius.”

“Wow, you sure do know a lot about stars” she said in awe. Her head was resting on my chest and we were surrounded by a cocoon of blankets up on the roof of Starks tower.

“I used to enjoy spotting constellations with my mother back on Asgard. She taught me all that I know.”

“ You know, I never thought that I could experience love, not after my mother died. Who could love a creature-”

“Loki…” she cut me off “Don’t speak like that your brother-”

I cut her off “Until I met you. Love, you complete me and I don’t deserve you.”

“Loki, you deserve so much more than me. Don’t ever think for a second that you don’t deserve love; every single person on this planet has a chance for love and redemption, and you seized that chance.”

I tilted her head up so that I could see her eyes. She fluttered them closed and leaned in to place her plump lips on mine. Her hair felt soft as I ran it through my fingers, and her lips tasted like the hot chocolate that she had been drinking.

And even though your friends tell me your doing fine

Are you somewhere feeling lonely even though hes right beside you

“Y/N and Eric make a great team.” Said Tony, strutting into the kitchen with an empty glass in his hand. “I just got off a meeting with Fury and Y/N. It was a good idea teaming them up, the mission is going exactly as planned.”

“What exactly does the mission entail” Clint asked, leaning over the back of the couch to look at Tony. He had just come back from a vacation with his family so he still had to be filled in on certain things.

“Y/N and Eric Eisenhart went to New Mexico. Fury wants to start a S.H.I.E.L.D chapter there, that way we have response teams available faster. Eric is one of the higher ranking S.H.I.E.L.D agents.”

Clint nodded in understanding. “And Y/N was willing to leave everyone here?” Clint asked, surprised. He knew you as a deeply affectionate and caring person who loved her friends, and was shocked that you would pack up and leave everyone so quickly.

Tony looked up from washing the glass to see Loki slip away from the kitchen.

“She asked for the mission” he said in a hushed voice.

“And her and Loki?” Clint questioned, equally quietly, gesturing to the door Loki had just left from.

“She broke up with him. One day, they were happily, quite grossly might I add, in love, and the next she was running out of his room demanding I send her on the farthest possible mission.”

“What did the douche do to her?” Clint growled, cracking his knuckles.

“Slow down there Buckaroo. As far as we know, nothing. I even watched F.R.I.D.A.Y’s recordings and it was her choice. I’m not a big fan of Reindeer Games, but Hell, poor dude doesnt deserve this.

when he says those words that hurt you

do you read the ones I wrote you?

I sat down on the hotel bed after a long day of looking for real estate for the new S.H.I.E.L.D chapter. As my head hit the pillow, I heard three consecutive bangs on the door.

“Come in” I wearily called, still lying down on the bed. Eric charged in.

“Y/N what are you doing lying down?” he screamed. “We are way behind schedule and you are lying down!”

“Eric, calm down, we are not behind sc- “

“We are!” He cut me off “Just because your Avengers ass can save the world with your own powers doesn't mean the rest of us can. You shouldn't have come on this mission! Just because you wanted to get away from your ex doesn't mean you have to botch up the security of-”

He was cut off as I used my powers to slam him into the hallway. I banged the door shut and let out a choked sob. I never wanted to leave Loki. He was my everything, my life and now, now i can't even talk to him. His father threatened to smite me if I continued seeing his son, and he forced me to never speak to him again. Odin continued by saying that I could not be with his son, or not only my life, but his too would be in danger, and I love Loki too much for that. I collapsed on the bed and snatched up my phone, scrolling to the beginning of my text message history with Loki. Without him, nothing would ever be the same.

Sometimes I start to wonder was it just a lie

If what we had was real how could you be fine?

I slammed the door shut behind me as I entered my room. Yes why did Y/N want to leave everything behind. It was that Eric guy I’m positive. He stole my Y/N and she went with him. So much for everyone deserving love.

Cause I’m not fine at all

I can’t take it. How could she do this to me. “HOW” I screamed. She promised. “YOU PROMISED” I flung my dresser across the room. I smashed my bed and threw objects everywhere. Falling to the ground, I screamed my throat raw. I am a monster, I guess, so why not act the part.

I remember the day you told me you were leaving

I remember the makeup running down your face

I woke up to see Y/N packing a suitcase.

“You have a mission?” I asked, confused. She sniffled and continued packing. Y/N, what's wrong love?”

“Don't call me that.” She said.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“I said, don't call me love. Your not capable of love.”

“Y/N?” I asked, hurt. “don't say that.”

She stood up, dragging her suitcase behind her and shoved me out of her way. “I can't love a mon-monster” she said and ran out the door.

And the dreams you left behind you didn't need them

Like every single wish we ever made

I locked myself in my room. Y/N, the one person who truly loved me, or so I thought, had called me a monster. Through my tears, I saw a glistening object on the desktop. the promise ring I had given her was lying on the desk, along with every last shred of hope I had that she still loved me.

I wish that I could wake up with amnesia

and forget all of the stupid little things.

Thor barged into the room. “

What did you do to Y/N brother?!” he roared, squeezing me by the shoulders.

“Do you think I asked for this?” I looked up at him with despair. “She just left.”

“He’s right.” Tony said from the door. “Y/N said he didn't do anything.”

“WELL THEN WHY DID SHE LEAVE?” I screamed

“She said she didn't, well she didn't love you anymore.” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

I went limp in Thor's arms.

“Brother…” he said, “I-”

“DON'T” I screamed. “JUST LEAVE ME! I JUST WISH I COULD FORGET EVERYTHING”

like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you

And the memories I can never escape

“Whatcha reading?” Y/N asked, resting her head on my shoulder.

“A Midgardian play, this Shakespeare fellow was quite the talented man.”

She fell back on the pillow and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Mmk, just shut the lights when you finish. I wanna cuddle.”

“My darling, you know I always have time to ‘cuddle’ as you call it.”

She smiled as I marked my page and reached over to turn off the lamp.

“Love you” she said as she snuggled her face to my chest. I stroked her hair with one hand and place the other on the small of her back.

“I love you too my darling.”

Cause I’m not fine at all

The pictures that you sent me are still living in my phone,

I’ll admit I like to see them I’ll admit I feel alone

I sat in the rubble that was formerly my room and turned on the device Midgardians so often had their faces glued to; a cell phone. Countless photographs of Y/N were still on my collection of photographs. Her smile was frozen, caught in that moment, a moment of pure joy. Something that she apparently could not experience with me.

And all my friends keep asking why I’m not around

“Brother, I know it is not easy after…”

“Just get on with it”

“Loki you need to come outside.”

“I go on missions with you and your stupid society of Avengers.“

“Loki that's not enough. You need to focus on your own health.”

“How can I without her, Brother?

It hurts to know you’re happy yeah it hurts that you’ve moved on

It’s hard to hear your name when I haven’t seen you in so long.

“Reindeer Games, get down to the briefing room, were having a meeting” Starks voice boomed through the PA system in the tower.

I quickly cast an illusion to hide my wrecked state and made my way downstairs.

“All right now that you’re here we can start” The Black Widow said, standing up as I entered the briefing room. I was in a dazed state as she began droning on about logistics and charts, and I was just about to fall into a doze when I heard her name.

“The new S.H.I.E.L.D chapter is going very well, Eric and Y/N are…” And my mind collapsed. My illusion fell away as I ran out of the room.

If today I woke up with you right beside me.

Like all of this was just some twisted dream

I hold you closer than I ever did before

And you would never slip away and

you would never hear me say

I couldn't take it anymore. I had to see her. I cast an illusion of my lovely Y/N with a shaky hand. I was warned against casting too many illusions; spend too much time with illusions and reality will begin to slip away, but what difference would it make. My reality, my Y/N had already slipped away. Her illusion stood in the middle of the room, her face neutral and still. I slowly approached her and traced the outline of her face.

“Y/N my love- I'm sorry I wasn't good enough.”

Cause I'm not fine at all

No I'm really not fine at all

Tell me this is just a dream

Cause I'm really not fine at all

Does anyone want a part 2?

#loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x you #angst #loki angst #marvel #marvel fics

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highroadsteve · 6 years

Text

a long distance — t.h.

pairing: tom holland x reader

warnings: angst/sadness

author’s note: short story. totally written from the song ‘why wont you love me’ by 5sos. tone inspired from ‘ghost of you’ by 5sos.

masterlist

italics = flashbacks. bold = present.

“I told you a relationship would be too much.”

“I know. You don’t need to fucking say it.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

“So am I.”

Tom took the drink he had in his hand and put it up to his lips, taking in the entire thing at once. He forced it down his throat in hopes of it affecting him faster. The feelings were still in his heart, and it was such a constant feeling, he just wanted to get rid of it already. And it seems the only way to do that is by letting the alcohol enter his system.

“You might want to slow that down, mate.”

“Fuck off.”

The woman over the intercom had mentioned Tom’s plane number, signaling the time of boarding. Grabbing the two large suitcases and the small carry-on, he turned around and stared at her. Those beautiful eyes of hers were glistening with tears, the pink color of her waterline was becoming more intense, and they were staring right back at him, burning into his empty figure.

He was leaving her again. She was going to be alone for another six months, even though a couple months ago he had barely returned from a previous six months of work. They both absolutely despised it, their relationship going to ruins because of the time apart. The facetime calls turned into phone calls, and phone calls turned into texts. It was all heading towards a terrible path, and they both felt it in their hearts that it wasn’t working anymore.

But that was the price of being an actor. Having to be the face of a fictional character caused him to go to hundreds of different cities around the world, spreading the word and joy to everyone. Countless plane rides taking him to his new home of a few months. Him getting too invested into a character, that he forgets Tom Holland even exists and he has responsibilities. One of them being dealing with a relationship with the one person he fell in love with years ago.

“I’ll see you soon, love.”

Sigh.

“I know.”

The small television screen of the bar allowed Tom to mindlessly watch it, no thoughts in his head, just his eyes following every tiny movement. The giant men tackling each other as they ran across the green field made Tom’s eyes unfocus and stare straight at the ball flying across the screen. His face blank, and his eyes tired.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go home?”

Tom nods slowly. Harrison stared at him for a few seconds, then sighed and shook his head.

“Okay. Call me so I can take you home.”

Harrison goes up to the bartender and tells him something, who only nods in response, before he leaves after patting Tom on the back.

Fifteen minutes. It had been fifteen minutes since Tom sent her a text saying he’s on the plane. After putting all his stuff in the compartments over his head, he sat down at his seat and rested. The text was sent with an apology, but received no response. He tried keeping himself occupied by scrolling through the hundreds of emails he had, and the thousands of comments on his Instagram posts.

Thirty minutes. Before he knew it, it had been thirty minutes. Tom was looking for a movie to watch on the screen in front of him that was attached to the plane seat. Attempting to keep his thoughts occupied, he chose a new movie he’d never seen before, hoping he could get engrossed in it.

Two hours. It’s officially been two hours. Usually, she would respond with a ‘be safe’ or a cute little smiley face after almost five minutes of sending it. She rarely was too busy to respond to anything. However, this time there was no response at all.

She most likely has a good reason, Tom thought.

Swiping up on his phone screen to bring up the control center, he pressed the button with the airplane icon on it. He proceeded to lock his phone and lean his head on the window, watching the clouds below him.

“You really need to get home, man.”

The bartender spoke, drying a glass with a hand towel. Tom looked up at him from previously having his head in his hands. His bloodshot and swollen eyes were out of focus, and if you stared long enough you would notice that the softness of his brown eyes was gone.

“Sir?”

Tom shook his head, clearing his throat and wiping his eyes.

“I know. I’ll give my mate a call.”

Sitting alone on the bed in his new hotel room that was checked out to him, he switched quickly through the television channels. He had no idea what else he could do, he was bored out of his mind, and he didn’t want to bother her anymore. His phone was sitting next to him, lighting up occassionally due to text messages from some friends or new emails.

But he didn’t answer any. He didn’t answer any because he was waiting for hers. She responded with a ‘stay safe.’ a few hours ago, but when he texted ‘i love you’, she left the message on read.

He tried not to let it bother him, he didn’t want to annoy her and create an argument when they weren’t even physically in the same room. So he stayed quiet about it, deciding to let it go.

Tom stared at the phone in his hand, the screen too bright for his liking. The blurring of his eyesight due to the drunken tears threatening to spill out, had caused him to get frustrated. Frustrated at not being able to see the names of the people in his phone. Frustrated at not being able to see the letters on his keyboard. Frustrated at himself for even being in this fucking situation.

“Good morning baby, how‘ve you been?” Tom asked with a roughness in his voice from being woken up at four in the morning.

“T-Tom, I can’t do this anymore.” He heard her heavy breathing and a sob break through her voice. Tom sat up quickly, rubbing his eyes in worry.

“Wait, what? Are you okay love?”

“Laura got engaged.” Tom furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Why is she calling him up so early in the morning to tell him something so small and irrelevant?

“Uh, good for her? Baby, I’m confused, what does that have to do with anything?”

“My best friend just got engaged. A-And I’m over here with a boyfriend that I only get to see once every year. Tom, I’m so tired of it.” He heard her cries through the phone and it broke his heart. He knew what was coming, and he desperately didn’t want her to say it.

“I-I know baby, but we promised each other we were going to wait no matter how long it takes. Trust me, it’s hurting me too.”

“Tom, I can’t wait anymore. I’m done. I hate being alone. I hate having to sleep by myself. I hate feeling so empty and...sad. I don’t...”

“What...what are you saying?”

“I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

Tom clicked on his contacts and scrolled to the first letter of her name. He did it, unconsciously, wanting to call Harrison instead. It’s been months. And she’s still inhabiting every single inch of his fucking mind. She was still a habit he can’t seem to break.

He pressed on her name and clicked the icon with a phone on it, then proceeded to call. The phone rang once, twice, three times.

It continued to ring until he heard the familiar voice of her voicemail. Repeating the same steps, he called her twice more.

After seeing that she wasn’t going to pick up, whether it was because she was ignoring it or she was sleeping heavily, he rang up Harrison to take him home.

The morning after the missed calls, she sent him a text, claiming that she was sleeping and she didn’t hear the call. Tom, with a migraine pounding at his head and a deep pain stabbing into his heart, he texted back:

What happened to us.

No response.

119 notes · View notes

defcliff0rd · 6 years

Text

but how sorry? // luke hemmings smut [au]

summary: luke is your brother’s biggest rival and, unbeknownst to him, you disregarded every caution he told you to take

warnings: rated m // nothing besides angst (duh) and smut i think??

word count: 7.2k

author’s note: so i think my last smut was written in either 2015 or maybe even 2014 so this may be really rough but be gentle pls all i know from 5sos popping back into my life is that i’m still a michael girl through and through but fuck luke has grown and i’m so here for this so enjoy!! (as per usual there’s far too much backstory but that’s always been part of my backstory sO leggo) // i also didn’t edit this but i will later so pls be gentle!! // part two here!

going to your brother’s matches was always... interesting, to say in the least. it was loud, smelly and hectic. the overly buff men circulating around the room, collecting bet money, were intimidating, the whole point of them to subconsciously threaten you into betting. calum always made you come with his best friend, ashton, so that he’d “worry less that you were gonna get felt up by some pervy fuck and he’d have jump over the ropes and knock him the fuck out” (he always had a specifically colorful mind).

this was the second time calum was going against the current champion, luke hemmings. this was a rematch from two months ago - the only guaranteed chance he has to attempt to win his title back. calum had been training since the second he lost, nothing but a fierce need to get his status back.

when calum threw yet another sloppy jab that luke easily dodged, countering it with a knee to his stomach, you were growing antsy—along with the rest of the crowd. “what’s wrong with him? why is he doing so bad?” you yelled into ashton’s ear.

ashton’s eyes didn’t leave the ring, a frown permanently etched on his face. “luke’s an asshole, he’s taunting him,” he replied. “feelings are getting in the way. cal’s fighting with his heart, not his head.”

“and emotions make you sloppy.”

“exactly.”

the ghost of a smirk and the dancing in luke’s eyes confirmed that, the polar opposite of calum’s rage and glare. time was running out and this was the last round. stakes were high, both of them fighting more for their right to brag and shame rather than having the actual title. both of their chests were heaving, the fight obviously taking its toll. calum’s nose was bleeding, a gash above his eyebrow and you weren’t sure if the blood he kept spitting out was coming from his mouth or his nose. luke had a large gash on his cheekbone and a split lip, his tongue continuously poking out to get rid of the blood. the fight wasn’t going to go on much longer.

calum went for luke again, running him into the corner of the ring. it clearly knocked the wind out of luke but he quickly retaliated, elbowing him in the back of his head. it was enough force to give him the upper hand, throwing an uppercut right underneath calum’s jaw. he stumbled back and luke used his disorientation to his advantage, throwing a strong right hook at calum, hitting him right beneath his ear and knocking him down. the crowd went silent, waiting for calum to rise.

but he didn’t. and with the announcement that luke hemmings had successfully kept his title, the crowd roared. you were frozen in your spot, waiting for calum to move and when he finally did, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

you and ashton made your way through the crowd and to calum, ashton’s hand grasping yours protectively. calum had pushed himself up on his hands, letting one of the girls who cleaned the fighters up (they were nowhere near real nurses) dab at the wound above his eyebrow. you couldn’t help but watch luke, his body glistening from sweat and his muscle moving beneath his skin as he accept congratulations. you watched as he made his way over to calum, crouching down and speaking to him. you were pleased to see that luke was taking the high road when calum’s lip curled and he jumped up, attempting to attack luke. he moved away easily, calum still recovering from his last hit and not being as fast as he usually is.

you shot luke a deathly look and he finally met your eyes, a smirk growing on his lips as he winked at you before heading to the lockers.

“what the hell did you say to him?” you snapped at the blonde boy, the door to the only locker room slamming behind you.

luke didn’t even jump at your arrival. he turned around to face you and you couldn’t help but notice his appearance. even though his left eye was beginning to bruise, he still looked good. his hair was still wet from his shower and the joggers he wore were low on his hips, his torso bare. “you’re gonna have to be a little bit more specific, sweetheart,” he mused, crossing his arms as he leaned against a locker.

narrowing your eyes at him, you stopped until you were only a foot away from him. he straightened his posture, blue eyes looking straight into your as he waited for your next move. “i get that this is the point. that-that the whole idea behind underground fighting is no rules or regulations, to just win, but there’s no need to be an ass,” you told him.

luke scoffed, laughter falling from his lips. “all hood did before our match was shit talk me,” he reminded. “i beat him, not once but twice. i think i’ve earned bragging rights.”

“don’t bring me into it,” you warned.

luke raised an eyebrow. “and why would i do that?” he asked.

“to get under his skin,” you shot.

this wiped the smirk from his face, his jaw muscles flexing. he shook his head, stepping away from you and reaching down to grab his sweatshirt. “you told me not to say anything to him, so i didn’t,” he began, pulling the hoodie over his head. he zipped up his gym bag, pulling it over his shoulder. “i made a promise to you and i wouldn’t betray that just to get under your brother’s skin. i’m a bit more talented than that; i don’t need to play dirty.”

the door opened and you spun around to see calum walking through the door with ashton right behind him. “y/n? what are you doing back here?” he asked, his eyes trained on the the blonde boy behind you.

“i was just looking for you, thought you’d be in here,” you lied smoothly.

luke made a noise from behind you. “have a wonderful night, ladies,” he ridiculed, his shoulder carelessly knocking against calum’s as he passed them.

you could feel the tension in the room, calum still obviously pissed about his loss. “so,” you started, clasping your hands together. “drinks?”

you sat at the rounded high-top table, swirling your cosmopolitan with a tiny black straw. the mood around you was much lighter, calum having plenty of drinks in him and a girl on his lap. ashton had chosen not to come out tonight, having work early in the morning, so that left you by yourself with calum and his entourage. you wanted to just go home, curl up in bed and watch reruns, but that was until luke walked in the door.

he looked even better than he did in the locker room. he must’ve gone back to his apartment, conveniently only a few blocks from the club. he had on a white button up shirt, the first couple of buttons undone enough to show that he wore a loose gold chain on along with the one closer to his neck. the shirt hung out of his black skinny jeans and you couldn’t see due to the dim lighting but you could tell that he wore the same scuffed up black boots that he always wore.

he looked absolutely delicious, yet you could see the stress through how tense his shoulders were as he stood between two stools at the bar, a mostly full beer sat in front of him as he took shots, the various rings on his fingers shining and his chipped nail polish barely there. downing the rest of your fruity drink, you stood up. “i’m empty, i’ll be right back,” you told calum, who acknowledged you with a sound as he took yet another shot.

you appreciated that he was distracted, letting you waltz up to luke and take a seat on the stool right next to luke. he glanced over at you, taking a swig of his beer. “y/n,” he greeted shortly.

you put one leg over another, pivoting your body slightly toward him. “luke,” you replied. “i’m surprised you came here tonight. you usually celebrate at your apartment.”

“i figured the best kind of celebration would be not having to clean up after a bunch of drunks, so the club it is,” he answered. his eyes finally moved to look you up and down, admiring the way the dress clung to your body and exposed your thighs. “you look good.”

you smiled, playing with the cardboard coaster in front of you. “thank you. you should see yourself,” you flirted.

he laughed breathily, running his fingers through his curly hair. he went to say something when the bartender came over, asking if he could get either of you anything. “a refill for whatever she was drinking, i’m good,” luke recited.

your teeth dug into your bottom lip and you were waiting for him to say something—normally he’d be making suggestive comments and touching you but he’s done neither. “luke, i’m sorry about earlier,” you apologized quietly but loud enough so he’d hear you.

“don’t know what there is to be sorry about.”

you frowned. “i didn’t-i was worried about calum, that’s all. i was worried that he was hurt and-” your lame apology was cut off by luke.

“you thought that i brought you into it to throw salt in the wound,” he finished. “i get it.”

you couldn’t find anything to say; not without flat out lying. the first time you and luke hooked up was the night before calum lost the championship. both of you had been drinking but neither of you were too drunk to make a clear decision; but not before making sure the he knew calum couldn’t know. he promised and the next handful of times that the two of you hooked up, it was an unspoken agreement. calum was not to ever find out. you hadn’t expected luke to react this way, though.

“i’m sorry,” you finally said. “it was wrong of me to just assume.”

the drink was placed in front of you but you hardly noticed, too focused on the blue eyed boy who would barely even look at you. “it doesn’t matter, y/n,” he waved off. finishing off his beer and throwing a few twenties on the bar top, he stood up. “have a good night.”

he went to walk away but you grabbed his hand, halting him. “luke, i don’t want you mad at me,” you appealed, your eyes begging.

you could’ve sworn you felt luke’s fingers add pressure to your own hand before he shook your grip loose. “don’t want calum seeing you, princess.” the pet name was spoken effortlessly. it was something he usually did: sweetheart, princess, baby. but his tone was different this time; more callous, angry.

watching him disappear into the men’s bathroom, you took a deep breath and downed your drink as quickly as possible. you glanced over at your brother, finding him still occupied with the alcohol and company, so you made your way through the crowds and through the door luke disappeared behind. he was washing his hands, his back facing you and unaware of your presence. a quick glance told you that the bathroom was empty and you locked the door.

either seeing you through the mirror or recognizing your touch, luke didn’t react when your palms slid over his lower back and toward his stomach. “let me make it up to you,” you cooed, playing with the edges of his shirt.

luke laughed. “calum know you’re in here?” he asked.

you frowned, removing your hands. “what’s really wrong here, luke? you can’t just be mad that i accused you of telling calum about us,” you accused, crossing your arms.

he barked out laughter, the dry sound only annoying you more. “there is no ‘us’ to tell him about,” he responded.

“can you stop being so cryptic for five damn minutes and actually talk to me? like an adult?” you shot at him.

he stared at you for a few moments before scoffing. “i’m done with this,” he mumbled, walking toward the door.

“this conversation or me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. somewhere along the meaningless hookups, you grew fond of luke. the two of you didn’t speak often outside of your sexual interactions but they eventually got longer, you staying the night at luke’s and spending innocent time together. the morning the two of you made (and completely screwed up) breakfast, laughing and throwing food at each other felt more intimate than when you were rolling around in the sheets the night before. it almost made dealing with calum’s wrath worth it.

luke had paused in his tracks and you watched as his fingers tapped on the side of his thigh before running them through his hair and turning around, taking long strides until he was right in front of you. grabbing your face, his crashed his lips against yours. you made a noise in the back of your throat but responded immediately, loving the way his rough hands felt against your skin. you gripped the silk material of his shirt, tilting your head slightly as his lips parted and his tongue touched yours.

it sent a shock straight through your body, eliciting a moan that disappeared into his mouth. one hand moved down to your waist, pushing you against the cold brick wall. the other moved down to your neck as he gently bit your bottom lip and pulled away with a ‘pop’. the grip on your neck tightened slightly, his fingertips touching your jaw while he moved your head to the side. he wasted no time in pressing his lips to your skin again; kissing from the corner of your mouth all the way to your ear and then down your neck.

your hands had moved to unbutton his shirt when he made a tsk sound, moving the hand on your waist to your wrist, stopping you. “no, you don’t touch me,” he instructed, a piece of hair falling onto his forehead. “not til i say so.” a devious smile formed on his lips, moving his hand so that he could run his thumb over your bottom lip. “actually...”

“what’s that look fo- oh!” his actions cut off your sentence, lifting you up and setting you on the top of the sink as if you weighed nothing. goosebumps spread all over your body due to the cold temperature of the marble top. “lu, ple-”

luke shushed you and pressed himself between your legs, grabbing both of your hands. “keep these...” he put them on either side of you, palms down on the counter. “right there. until i say so, okay, sweetheart?” sweetheart. in that low, guttural voice that he used whenever he was horny. you swallowed, nodding obediently. he smiled, his hands grabbing your hips roughly and pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss on your lips. a whine escaped your lips at the loss of contact when he pulled away. “i know, baby.”

his lips moved down your neck, sucking and nipping at various places, no doubt leaving marks in his wake. “so pretty,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against the marks.

“i thought no marks was the rule,” you breathed out.

“that was your rule, honey,” he pointed out, his fingers moving to the strap of your dark blue dress. “not mine. didn’t see you stopping me anyhow.” he toyed with the strap for only a second longer before he moved to pull down the bust of your dress, revealing that you weren’t wearing a bra. “fuck,” he muttered, his thumb brushing against your already hard nipple. “little eager, aren’t we?”

you laughed slightly, your head falling against the mirror at the feeling of his tongue touching your nipple. “guess we don’t all have the control that you do,” you offered, your hands almost disobeying him and burying themselves in his hair once his lips closed around the hardened nub, sucking harshly. “please let me touch you,” you begged.

you whimpered as his teeth closed down, tugging before moving away. “uh uh, not yet,” he instructed.

“then touch me, actually touch me.” the second the words left your mouth, you knew you’d made a mistake.

luke pulled away, both hands back on your thighs and his mouth away from you. “excuse me?” he asked. “i don’t think that’s how you ask, darling.”

chewing on your bottom lip, your fingers curled into a fist, turning white in attempt to keep them from grabbing at luke. “i-i’m sorry. i’m sorry,” you apologized brokenly, lust overtaking every part of you—especially the part of your brain that formed words.

“but how sorry are you?” he inquired. you were prepared to continue begging but his fingers slid up your thighs, disappearing under your dress and humming when his fingers touched your bare slit instead of cloth. “no underwear? it’s almost like you were expecting this.” he faintly moaned, his free hand going underneath your jaw and guiding your face up so he could press his lips to yours. it wasn’t frantic, moving slower and deeper than your previous kisses.

“luke,” you breathed against his lips as his fingers brushed against your clit, already overly sensitive.

he pulled away just barely, his forehead resting against yours. “damn, babygirl, you’re already so wet,” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours. “for someone who should be keeping her distance from me, you sure seem excited for my touch.” his tongue peaked out, licking your top lip. “maybe you’re not such a good girl after all.”

“please,” you begged, feeling his middle finger dip into your entrance just enough before moving back up to your clit with a feathery touch. “i need-i need something.”

“what do you need, baby? tell me,” he demanded.

“i need you.”

luke smirked, pulling away to look at you through hooded eyes. “that’d take far too long, i’m fully dressed,” he answered, a taunting tone in his voice. “i’m sure there’s a much easier way to help you out.”

you groaned, your teeth digging into your bottom lip. the blue in his eyes had darkened, the bruising around it somehow making him look even hotter. “your fingers,” you barely got out as he slow moved his finger on your clit at an antagonizing pace. “your fingers, please.”

he complied, slowly pushing in one finger. he gauged your reaction, watching as your lips parted. your hips moved without your consent, luke’s free hand moving to your hips to hold you in place. “you’ve been listening so well, babygirl,” he said in a warning tone. “don’t ruin it now.”

you nodded. “another finger, please,” you whimpered, your legs shaky. “please.”

he must’ve taken pity on you because he didn’t hesitate to listen, pushing a second finger in and curling upward, causing your body to slightly lean over and cry to leave your lips. his lips met yours again, messily moving his lips against yours as his fingers moved in and out of you at a steady pace. his hand moved from your jaw to your thigh, pushing it to spread them further. hiking your dress up as far as it would go, he tapped your clit with his thumb before easing it into the same tempo his fingers were moving. “luke, i-” your own moaning cut you off.

“what was that?” he asked.

“i can’t- can’t last much longer. please.” you couldn’t form the words but you were hoping he got the gist. make me cum.

“yeah? you wanna cum?” he asked, speeding up the movements of his fingers, curling them just at the right times. you tightened around him, feeling a knot in your lower stomach. you were sure he felt it, nipping at your jaw. you were just about to let go, your walls fluttering around his fingers when you felt empty.

your eyes shot to him, watching in disbelief as he wiped his fingers on his pants before running his fingers through his hair, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe his mouth. he chuckled when he noticed his shirt was now stained with the smudged lipstick that was on his mouth. “what are you doing?” you asked, out of breath.

he lifted a shoulder. “we’re in public, don’t wanna risk calum finding out,” he said.

“you’ve got to be kidding me,” you mumbled, adjusting your dress and standing on wobbly legs. luke was a few feet away from you but he kept his eyes on you, making sure you wouldn’t fall. “so much for not being pissed.”

luke laughed. “i asked how sorry you were, you couldn’t have possibly thought that i’d let you finish,” he pointed out.

you vaguely remembered him even saying that but he had a point. if he was ticked off in any way, he’d never let you cum. “what do you want from me?” you ground out, your frustration high due to your denied orgasm.

he didn’t respond immediately, slowly taking steps toward you. he reached up, using his thumb and forefinger to lifted your chin up. “what i want, from you...” he trailed, the pad of his thumb brushing your chin. “is to stop being so scared.”

“scared? what do you mean?”

he hummed. “ever since we’ve been doing this thing between us, i’ve been pushing you passed your comfort zone. helping you figure out what exactly it is you want, how to get it.” you stomach twisted as you listened to him, remembering how timid you were before him. you’d kind of just go along with whatever your partner wanted. luke has showen you that you enjoyed being dominated and, god, did luke know how to deliver. “you know that i would never ask you to do something that you don’t want to. so i’m giving you a choice.”

“okay,” you answered in a small voice, eyes wide.

“i’d be more than happy make you cum. as many times as you’d like.” yes please. “but only if you come back with me to my place.”

you scoffed, a relieved smile on your face. “that’s it? let’s go, lu-”

“and only if you tell calum it’s me taking you home.”

the smile fell off of your face, blinking in confusion. “you-you want me to tell calum that you’re taking me back to your place so that we can have sex?” you asked in disbelief.

luke shook his head, dropping his hand. “no, i want him to know that you’ll be with me. i don’t care how you tell him, but i meant what i said. i’m done with this. i’m done sneaking around like a fucking child,” he explained.

“i can’t do that,” you told him. “you know that. i can’t do that to him.”

luke laughed dryly. “can’t do that to him?” he echoed. “you’re not doing anything ‘to him’. any issues between me and him are in the ring and they don’t control you.”

running your fingers through your hair, you sighed in frustration. “we’re just hooking up and you want me to screw things up between me and my brother over it?” you questioned.

“i want more, y/n, and there’s no way you don’t know that.” his admission caused you to freeze, your lips parting in shock. “if you don’t, you haven’t been looking. i kept it lowkey because that’s what you wanted but i’m not continuing this that way. i wanna be able to take you out; spend time with you and see where this can go. if you can’t or won’t do that, that’s fine. but this casual thing is over.”

you were stunned. you had no clue he felt that way and, even though you felt the same way, it only made things harder. you were scared to enter anything serious with luke. you’d seen how he’d been with other women and how his lifestyle is. you also hid behind the fling because worrying about your brother in an illegal, anything-goes fight club—but to have a boyfriend involved in it? you’d never sleep.

before you could say anything, a banging sounded on the door, someone on the other side threatening to get security. luke sighed loudly, grabbing your hand and guiding you to the door, unlocking it and shooting a deadly glare at the man no the other side who began to eye you. once both of you made it back to the bar, he let go. “i’m leaving in ten minutes,” was all he said but you heard the silent words. tell him or it’ll be without you.

with a cloudy head, you made your way back over to the table. it was empty and you couldn’t find calum anywhere. it was a blessing and a curse, the option of telling him not even an actual one. you knew luke was around watching you from somewhere - you hoped that he would see that you didn’t have a choice. but either the blessing or the curse was taken away when your brother finally showed again, sweaty and holding a beer. “y/n, i had thought you’d gone home or something,” he said, plopping onto a stool. he took a swig of beer before setting it down “how long you staying?”

you shrugged, taking his beer and taking a big chug. “i don’t know, i’m getting a little bored. i might head home soon,” you replied. he nodded, eyes scanning the dancing people. “hey, did you see that luke was here?”

he furrowed his eyebrows, a weirded out look on his face. “luke?” he repeated.

“hemmings. luke hemmings.”

luckily he was too drunk to acknowledge that you’d referred to luke with just his first name, an intense eye roll following your reply. “ugh, yes,” he said, disgust apparent in his voice. “dana said that he was holed up in the bathroom with some girl. how fucking gross, right?”

forcing laughter, you repressed the same stab of pain in your chest at his words. “i guess,” you agreed uncertainly.

calum eyed you for a few seconds, turning his full attention toward you. “is everything alright?” he pondered.

twisting the ring that sat on your middle finger nervously, you tried to figure out how to go about it. “do you know anything about luke hemmings?” you wondered. “i mean, outside of the ring. is there any solid reason that you hate him?”

he guffawed, throwing his head back as he laughed. “he’s a cocky prick,” he replied simply. “talks shit too much. needs to fuckin’ grow up. shall i continue?”

“you’re cocky, too. and you talk a lot of shit,” you pointed out.

he shook his head, finishing off his beer. “we’ve got nothing in common,” he assured you. “why’re you asking about hemmings?”

this was it. this was your opportunity to either do it or don’t. you desperately wanted to—wanted to see if you and luke could make it—but what if it didn’t turn out to be worth it in the end? what if luke screwed you over?

you decided you had no reason to think that. he’d never given you a reason not to trust him, following through with any and every promise he’d made. "i, um- luke kind of-”

“so how was it?” a brunette girl asked, leaning against the table on the opposite side of you. you had no clue what she was talking about but she was looking straight at you, waiting for an answer.

“what are you talking about?”

“you were the girl in the bathroom with luke hemmings, right? how was it? he looks like he’d be a great fuck, i’m cur-”

calum interrupted her, a look of amusement on his face. “s’cuse me, babe, but i think you’ve got her mixed up with someone else. there’s no way my sister would’ve gone anywhere with hemmings,” he assured her, looking toward you for confirmation. with every second you didn’t reply, calum’s face dropped more. “are you fucking kidding me?”

the girl had slipped away, sensing the shift in the mood. “calum, that’s what i wanted to talk to you-”

“no,” he snapped. “hemmings is the one guy i told you to stay away from and you choose to... what? fuck him in the bathroom? cheap thrills over your own fucking brother?”

“no, it’s not like that,” you defended. “luke and i have been sort of, um, seeing each other the last couple of months.”

calum scoffed, shaking his head. “is that supposed to be better?” he asked. you remained silent. “i can’t do this right now. you have a ride home?” you didn’t, especially if luke had already left, but you nodded anyway. “good,” he finalized, grabbing his jacket and retrieving your pone from the pocket. he dropped it onto the table and, without saying another word, he left you alone at the table.

you pursed your lips, rubbing your temples. you weren’t sure if it had gone better or worse than you planned but you hoped calum would be more level-headed when he was sober. you grabbed your phone, cursing quietly to yourself.

from: luke hemmings wish you the best, y/n.

it was timestamped from five minutes ago, your conversation with calum longer than you figured. clutching the phone in your hand, you hurried out of the club, the cool air hitting your skin. you weren’t going to let all of this happen for nothing; you weren’t going to lose luke that easily.

the walk to luke’s apartment only took ten minutes, your feet only slightly aching from your heels once you’d made it up the four flights of stairs. knocking on his door, your nails tapped your phone nervously. you’d almost given up when the door swung open. besides his button up shirt being unbuttoned and his boots kicked off, he looked the same as he did at the club; only a little bit sleepier.

before he had the chance to say anything, your hands grabbed his cheeks, pulling him down to your level and then crushing your lips against his. he only missed a few beats before his hands found your waist, fingers splayed along the tight material of your dress as he kissed back with just as much passion. your hands moved to the back of his neck, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck.

this elicited a groan from him before he used a hand to blindly feel behind you and shut the door. before you knew it, you were pressed up against the wall. neither of you bothered to see where your phone dropped or what frame on the wall fell down. both of you were breathing heavily, lips not even centimeters apart. “don’t do this if you’re not in it, y/n,” he warned quietly. “i wasn’t kidding earlier.”

“i know,” you breathed, your fingers playing with his gold chain. “i want it, too.”

that’s all it took. you caught the sight of a small smile before his lips were pressed against yours again. it was different this time than any other, though; this one was with a promise. a promise of a relationship, a promise of an actual shot at something. his hands gripped underneath your thighs and lifted you up, pressing his body flush against yours. one hand moved from your thigh, sliding up your waist and brushing your boob until it was just beneath your jaw. he tilted your head to the side as your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently, causing his lips to fall from yours. a groan emitted from his through, his hips grinding against yours.

you frantically moved your lips up his jaw, biting and sucking while luke’s blunt nails dug into the flesh of your ass. he moved his hips against yours strategically, the roughness of his jeans moving against your bare pussy. he was slow, though, not done teasing you. “luke, please...” you moaned.

he grunted, moving the two of you in the blink of an eye; your back pressed against the cushions on the couch and him between your legs, leaving sloppy kissing along your neck, reaching down to your collarbone. “you know,” he began, sitting up and undoing your heels. “i’d love to make you cum. how desperate you were in that bathroom-” he tsked, dropping your first heel. you laid there, watching his chest move as he breathed heavily, his tongue poking out to wet his swollen red lips. “you’re so fucking gorgeous. but i wanna make this worth it; make sure that you know you’re not taking a chance on me for nothing.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat as he threw your other heel behind him, not flinching as it banged against something. “luke, you don’t have to do that. i need you,” you pleaded, hoping he would go through with this.

but this was luke, of course, and you never better. he traced his fingertips down your bare arm, the chipped black nail polish contrasting against his skin. his fingers loosely wrapped around your hand, bringing it up to your lips and pressing a chaste kiss there before dropping your hand. “lean up,” he ordered softly.

you took this as your opportunity, maneuvering yourself so that you could flip the two of you. it caught him off-guard enough to work as he was now leaned back against the back of the couch. you pressed your lips to his, your hands holding his face in place as you attempted to distract him enough so that he wouldn’t regain control. you knew you were treading dangerous water—luke was always in control. there was no way he’d let you continue this.

but he did, allowing you to control the pace of the kiss and following your movements. one of your hands wandered down the side of his face, letting your nails scratch along the side of his neck. he groaned at the sting, his grasp on you tightening. while you slowly made your way down his chest and abdomen, he touched the zipper of your dress lightly before yanking it down. both of you heard the fabric tear. “you ripped my dress,” you commented against his lips.

he chuckled deeply. “you don’t really care though, do you?” he asked rhetorically. “take it off.”

even in the switched positions, he still had the upper hand and it excited you even more. you pulled away, pulling the dress over your head as quickly as you could. before you could return to your spot, luke leans up and attached his lips to your nipple, wasting no time by biting and sucking it until it ached and you were whimpering. he didn’t neglect your other boob though, his fingers twisting and pulling at the hardened nub. “this isn’t fair, you’re still fully clothed,” you breathed out, your eyes fluttering while you pulled at his hair.

his lips made a popping noise as they left your skin and you looked down, meeting his darkened eyes. “well, sweetheart, it’s a little difficult to take anything off in the position you’ve put us in,” he drawled quietly, his focusing moving to your lips. he let you push the button up shirt off his shoulders before he changed positions again, putting you back on your back. he stood, looking at you threateningly. “don’t move,” he instructed.

you made no attempt, subtly squeezing your thighs together in a vain attempt to relieve some of the pressure. your eyes following him as he looked down, a piece of hair falling his eyes while unbuckling his belt and pulling his jeans down. he left his boxers on but instead of covering your body with his own, he knelt to the ground, his torso between your legs as he leaned to press kisses along your body. “i want you...” he trailed, opening his mouth to leave a wet kiss just below your boob. “to tell me...” he moved down to just below your belly button, his lips never fully leaving your skin. “that you’ll be...” he sucked at the sensitive skin just above your core, making sure to leave a mark. “my girlfriend.”

“yes,” you breathed out immediately, not needing anytime to think about it. “i’ll be your girlfriend.”

he smiled a genuine smile before he hooked his arms around your thighs, angling you just right so he was leveled with your pussy. a moan escaped yor mouth, your head falling back as luke closed his lips around your clit. he began slowly, releasing his mouth so he could lick a slow line.

“oh, babygirl. i love how responsive you are,” luke cooed as he felt your legs shake beneath his hands. “i’m gonna move my hand so i’m gonna need you to keep your foot right... here,” he directed, grabbing your ankle and steadying your foot flat on the floor. he used the same hand to tease you, tracing along the inside of your thigh gently until you felt his touch ghosting along your clit.

“luke!” you cried out, involuntarily moving the leg that he’d told you to stay put.

luke stopped, moving your leg back where he had it. “y/n...” he warned.

you whined lowly. “i’m sorry, luke. i told you- i can’t handle all this. i need your cock.” you’d hoped the use of the dirty word would excite him enough to make him sway.

“patience, love.” with that, he pushed a finger inside of you easily, moving with ease due to how wet you were. “that’s the beauty of us. i’m far more aware of what you can handle.” your fingers dug into the couch pillow behind you, trying to steady yourself. he was moving slow enough to make sure that there was no chance of you actually coming. when he added another finger, he went even slower. he even curled his fingers upward, just barely, for emphasis. “and it’ll be even better when you wait just a little bit longer.”

“oh fuck!” you cried as his fingers picked up speed and he attached his lips back onto your clit, sucking harshly. your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your entire body lost in the sensations that touched every single nerve in your body. he hummed lightly, the vibrations only adding fuel to the fire. the sight of his face buried between your thighs and the feeling of his hair brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, you couldn’t hang on much longer. “luke-”

“the feeling of your tight little pussy shivering around my fingers,” he tutted, a smirk forming on his lips. you sighed shakily, your eyes closing as you anticipated the inevitable orgasm. just as you were about to cum... “but it’s better when it’s happening around my cock.”

you groaned in frustration as his fingers left you, leaving you hanging on the edge yet again. you lifted your head, ready to scream at the teasing blonde boy in front of you, when you found him standing with his boxers finally off, his fingers gripping his cock. he slowly moved his hand up and down, precum leaking out of the blushing red tip. “apparently i’m not the only one you’ve been depriving,” you taunted.

he chuckled, removing his hand and wiping his back with the back of it. “worth it,” he promised, digging into the drawer of the end table to retrieve the condom. your idea, given the amount of times either of you were too eager to make it to his bedroom. he took his place between your thighs, leaning over you and pressing his lips to your slowly, the charm on his necklace resting in the dip of your throat. your head slowly fell back as he pushed inside of you, the feeling an instant relief—but it wasn’t enough.

“come on, luke,” you breathed into his ear, your hands grasping at his back tightly. he had bottomed out but he wasn’t making any kind of move.

“what d’you want, sweetheart?” he asked, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. “ask nicely and you’ll get it.”

you breathed out deeply, one hand moving to press into the nape of his neck. “please, luke. please fuck me,” you murmured into his ear, your words slow and sultry.

he made a noise in the back of his throat as he finally moved, moving back until it was just the tip of his cock inside of you before slamming back inside. he thrusted inside of you, angling his hips upward to hit all the right spots. “oh god, luke, you feel so good,” you whimpered, your nails biting at his skin.

one hand kept him steady while the other found your throat, adding just enough pressure as he forced you to meet his eyes. he rested his forehead against yours, breathing shakily as you scraped your nails down his back. “so fucking tight, baby,” he whispered. “you feel so good.”

between his words and his cock hitting every nerve they could, you were approaching your orgasm quickly. “i’m gonna- can i please-” you couldn’t make the sentence form, moaning as he bucked his hips at the perfect angle.

“cum, angel. let go around me,” he allowed, watching as you fell apart only moments afterward. electricity working through every part of you, finally satisfied from being denied for so long. he worked you through his, groaning as he felt your nails dig into his skin. “fuck.”

as you came down, still sensitive from your orgasm, you felt his thrusts begin to grow sloppy as he worked toward his own finish. “cum for me, luke.”

he groaned, burying his face in your neck as ripples ran through his body and he stilled, filling the condom. he stayed for a few moments, both of you catching your breath. he finally removed his sticky body from your own, removing the condom and standing up to throw it away.

you grinned as you sat up, grabbing his button up and pulling it on. he reappeared, running his fingers through his dampened hair. “looks good,” he complimented, grabbing his boxers and pulling him on.

“what does?”

he laughed breathily. “my shirt on you, the hickies, the sex hair. take your pick,” he listed off. he dropped onto the couch, rubbing his forehead.

curling your legs up, you sat on the opposite end and faced him. “did you mean what you said?” you asked. you had to be sure he meant every word. “do you really want me to be your girlfriend?”

luke’s eyes lingered on you, licking his bottom lip. “c’mere,” he mumbled. you moved over, curling against his body underneath of his arm. he pulled the blanket off the floor and covered the two of you. you waited as he grabbed the remote and turned on the tv, friends playing quietly. you smiled when you felt his lips press against to the top of your head. “of course i did. i wouldn’t have said it if i didn’t.”

☆ ☆ ☆

right so the ending is corny as all hell but i had no clue how to end it without dragging it on and i feel like all of this is patchy and shitty but like i said it’s been while rip !! i’d love to hear any thoughts though!!

#luke hemmings smut #5sos smut #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings imagines #5sos imagines #5sos imagine #5sos blurbs #luke hemmings blurbs #smut #my writing #im so fckin nervous about this omg #gonna log off for another three years brb

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thruheavenandhighwater · 6 years

Text

The Light In Your Eyes and The Dark In Your Heart

[[ PART TWO]] [[ PART THREE]]

Pairing: Calum Hood/ Reader

Requested By: Anon

Word Count: 1,536

This thing you had with Calum, whatever it was, had been going almost as long as you could remember. A few thousand years at the very least. It was wrong, and both of you knew it. Everything about it was against every single rule that either of you had. But there was something about it- something about him- that made you just not care when you were near him.

You’d met him in China, sometime during the Shang Dynasty. He was on Earth collecting souls for Hell, just like you were doing for Heaven. You both had the abilities to completely camouflage yourselves among humans, just like every other angel or demon that ever had or ever would exist. But you knew as soon as you saw him just what he was. You could practically smell the sulfur emanating from him the moment you touched down on the outskirts of the city.

Disgusted and annoyed you had made your way into the city, your list of souls to collect memorized. You were speaking with your first human, an elderly homeless woman who's wrinkles told the story of her long life, when you saw him. He was tall, towering over everyone around him. He was tan, as if he'd spent a month sunbathing in preparation for his trip to Earth. And as much as you hated to admit it, he was handsome. So incredibly handsome. You were instantly distracted by his beauty and absolute confidence, your conversation with the elderly woman stopping almost completely as you watched him laughing with a young man of about 14.

Your jaw slacked slightly as you watched him. His movements so calm and fluid that you were almost impressed. You'd been collecting souls for over six hundred years and you still had to give yourself a pep talk before every trip. And here he was, walking around the city like he owned it. It was infuriating and captivating all at once. You were just about to return to your conversation with the woman when suddenly he snapped his face up to look at you, winking with a smirk before continuing down the road with the young man. You couldn't find words in any language to describe the way that look made you feel. Even know, thousands of years later, you still couldn't.

You were in Heaven, preparing for another trip to Earth. Your list was short this time, only fourteen names. This wouldn't take more than a week at most. Part of you was glad, this was your last trip for a while since you'd decided to take a few years off to fully explore the place you called home. But part of you, the part that ached for his touch, was disappointed. You never knew when Calum would be on Earth, and you never knew where. All of your meetings were just by chance, and the shorter the trip the less likely it was that you'd run into him.

You touched down on the side of a highway a few miles outside of a small Indiana town you'd been to a dozen or so times before. Walking along the familiar road toward town you couldn't help but let your mind wander. You thought about Calum and the last time you'd seen each other. It was in Germany, nineteen years ago.

You remembered the way his hands had fallen so easily to your hips as he pressed you against the door of his hotel room. You remembered the way his eyes switched from deep brown to black almost seamlessly. You remembered how it felt to run your fingers through his thick, black curly hair.

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of your memories. It couldn't happen again. It could never happen again. You both knew how much trouble you could get into if anyone ever found out about you. But neither of you knew what exactly would happen, since no angel and demon had ever been caught sleeping together before. You couldn't speak for Calum, but you definitely did not want to find out.

You got to town just before 9:00 pm and found your hotel. Once you were checked in you manifested all of your supplies into the room. The wonderful thing about your job was that you always had complete access everything you would ever possibly need, but never had to carry any of it. As you were hanging the last of your clothes in the small closet you decided to stay in for the night and get an early start in the morning. You took a long shower and changed into a simple, white pajama set before curling into the slightly uncomfortable hotel mattress before falling asleep.

The next day you were walking through town, the name of your first soul, Amelia Sanders, burning in your eyelids as you tried to find her among the crowd. You eventually found her, sitting on a park bench reading a book. You sat down on the other end of her bench, and she smiled up at you politely. She was young, only twenty-seven years old, and she should have had a lot of years ahead of her. But you knew that in just a few months time a distracted driver would run a red light and hit her, killing her instantly.

Every single human is predetermined from birth to go to either Heaven or Hell. But sometimes, more often than either side liked, they would exercise their free will and it was your job to step in and either try to guide them back to the right path or note that everything was going as scheduled. Your job was not to tell people that they're going to die, or to be on their best behavior. You were, essentially, a glorified Jiminy Cricket without the musical number.

After a few minutes, Amelia stood from the bench and turned to walk away. She turned back as she was putting her book into her bag, “I really like your top.” She said with a smile. You returned her smile with a small “thank you” before she turned again and walked away from you. You pulled your notebook and pen from your pocket and began to take a few notes about your short encounter with her when you felt someone sit down next to you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a pair black jeans, whoever was wearing them had their long legs spread wide enough to take up half the bench.

“Morning, angel.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. Everything around you instantly silenced. You looked to your left, your eyes trailed up his body before meeting his. The black t-shirt he wore made his arms look absolutely massive as they laid across the back of the bench you were now sharing.

“Calum.” You answered, looking back down at the notebook in your hand. He slid closer to you, a playful chuckle falling from his lips.

“Come on, now. Is that any way to say hi after all these years?” You kept your eyes on your notebook, determined not to look at him again. But the way he was dragging his fingertips across your shoulder blades was weakening your defenses. “I've missed you, angel.” His voice was low and husky. You heard another chuckle from him as you felt a shiver run down your spine at his words.

You shot him an annoyed glance, “Can I help you, Calum?”

He brought his left hand to his lap, moving it down his thigh as he sucked in a short breath. “Better than anyone I've ever met, baby.”

You rolled your eyes and turned away from him. “You're disgusting.” You groaned as you tried to stand up to leave but were stopped by Calum's large hands on your hips.

He pulled you back down, this time much closer to him. “What's with this attitude?” He smirked down at you, and you felt your stomach start twisting itself into knots. “Haven't you missed me, too?”

“Nope.” You lied through your teeth.

His smile grew as he placed his right arm over your shoulders, his left hand coming to rest on your thigh. Your proximity to him was enough to make your knees weak, making you suddenly thankful you were sitting down. “You sure about that?”

Clenching your jaw you answered him again. “Absolutely positive.”

He traced his fingers slowly up your thigh, touching you barely enough to even be felt, but enough to cause your breath to hitch in your throat. He moved his face closer to yours, his lips landing just a few centimeters from the curve of your ear. “I know you're lying, angel.” His lips grazed lightly against your skin as he whispered, his hot breath clouding your mind.

Another shiver made its way through your entire body before you turned to finally face him. He switched his eyes from brown to black, that same beautiful smirk on his full lips. You noticed a single black curl had fallen onto his forehead, nearly touching his cocked eyebrow. You bit your lip, forcing back a moan that threatened to escape. And just like that, he had drawn you back in.

~~~~~

I loved writing this so much! My first AU in a very very long time! There is definitely a part two in the works, so be on the lookout for that! If you’d like to be tagged in future 5sos fics, please let me know!

And a super huge mega thank you to @gotta-try-something-new for helping me with the graphic for this! You’re the best!!!!!

Tag List: @crownedbyluke @sweetcherrycal @blue-skies-are-alright @lmao5sosimagines @therainydays4 @rosecth @thesoundsyoumake

#calum hood fanfiction #calum hood au #5sos fanfiction #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #my words #this was actually the most fun to write #and i might be like half done with part two oops #i hope that anon likes this #and isn't mad that i'm splitting it up like this #sorry mate but it had to be done #tliyeatdiyh

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