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idolatrybarbie · 1 year ago

Text

the world tipped on its side

chapter five - satellite

series masterlist | read on ao3

pairing: francisco "frankie" morales x f!reader

word count: 5.1k

rating & summary: explicit | you reflect on the concept of love.

warnings: smut, swallowing like a champ, references to past physical injury, reference to frigid parent dynamics, dead parents, reader has a disability, angst, hurt/comfort, pining, emotionssss, pathetic!frankie moments.

notes: @wannab-urs gin hurt my feelings so now everyone must suffer next chapter but enjoy this while we're here. i kind of think this is trash garbo but (at the time of queuing this) i'm in a weird headspace coming back home for the first time. also it's late and i've been traveling all day so i'm choosing to ignore myself. goodnight and enjoy.

Friendship. That’s what this is.

Friendship with a man who called you the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Said that you’re so beautiful it’s scary. Who you had just sex with.

You don’t see much of Frankie on set, except for the few chaste and directive conversations between you, himself, and Ashton. In those moments, the very last thought on your mind is whatever is going on with you and him. It’s work, that’s the priority. Not that you give a shit about the movie, but it’d be nice if everyone wrapped and returned home in one piece.

Every time you try and talk to him, someone else pulls you away. This goes on for the first two days of filming in the woods. You don’t know what this is—this pull that keeps you circling him, even if you never quite seem to gain on Frankie in the chase. The sun and moon, bouncing light between each other at all times. You’re trying to figure out which role you are playing.

You catch him in a personal moment on day four, just getting off the phone with someone behind a production trailer. He looks momentarily startled, but not deterred by your presence. A good sign.

“Hey,” Frankie says. He sounds exactly like he did over the phone.

“Hi,” you return. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Yeah. I figured,” he says. “I mean, me too. Just with the—” He’s motioning vaguely at the helicopter parked thirty feet from you.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I don’t want to do it here. Maybe you could come over, or…”

“I’ve got my daughter this week,” he says with a shake of his head.

“Oh, shit. Right. I’m sorry,” you say.

“Don’t be. Things are just really…tight right now. Time-wise.”

The pager at your hip buzzes. Ashton calling everyone back to set.

“I’ll call, okay? I promise,” Frankie says. The words make your chest cold and you hate it. This is selfish, surely. The man has a kid, for crying out loud. Who are you to deny or resent dad duty?

But you do. At this moment, you really do, wishing that the small being he has called his pride and joy would cease to exist for an evening. It’s horrible, so you nod and that's that. Back to work you go.

You wait until the end of the week. Frankie does not call. You hate, hate that you’ve been reduced to the girl in movies that would pine over the phone and wait for that special boy to call. Because really, are any of them all that special? Is Frankie?

Sure, he touched you and it felt like a match to your insides, but does that mean anything? You’re out of practice. He’s the first person to pay you any mind in that way since you became disabled. The more you think about it, really think about it, the more the argument for Frankie Morales falls apart.

Mia comes over on a night where missing Sam makes her heart ache a little too much to be alone, bringing with her a shitty bottle of rosé. You’re half a glass deep when she starts to ask that needling question, What’s wrong? And finishing the bottle by the time you sigh as an answer to her asking for the millionth time. You agreed to be open after the—spat? Blowup? Long overdue reuniting best friend fight?—but it still takes some time. She is prying open a mussel to find a very shitty prize.

“It’s stupid,” you say. “I’m stupid.”

“You’re not, and it isn’t,” Mia says, a frown on her face. Your lips stay sealed in a pout and she turns on those evil, adorable eyes. “Tell me.”

You hold out for about five minutes, some action flick moving quietly across your flat screen before you finally give in.

“Jesus! Fine,” you relent. “It’s like being waterboarded.”

Mia grins with satisfaction before her face snaps back to sober (as much as one can be after a whole bottle of wine) seriousness. “Spill.”

“You’re going to say it’s dumb,” you say.

“You’re projecting.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“I slept with Frankie.” A bomb explodes on screen, illustrating what is most certainly happening inside Mia’s skull at this very moment. “Yeah…”

“Was it good?”

“Mia!” you scold, swatting at her knee.

“Hey! You can’t blame me for asking. I love Sam but I have eyes,” she says. “He reminds me of all the guys we went to school with that have photos with fish on their Tinder profiles.”

“You’re terrible,” you sigh.

“You know it, baby,” she smiles. “So you slept together. What next?”

“We haven’t talked about it.”

Mia holds her tongue for a moment, trying to formulate this sentence in the least explosive way possible. “Do you want to?”

“Uh, yeah,” you say.

“I have to ask. You’re not exactly the talk it out type of person anymore,” Mia says.

Ignoring that, you say, “He’s busy. I’m busy. I hate it.”

“Call him,” Mia tries.

“Did that. Not really an over-the-phone kind of conversation,” you say.

Mia hums thoughtfully. “Okay, well. Try it out with me first.”

“What?”

“Whatever you’re going to say to him, say it to me. I know exactly where your mind is going with this—oh no, he has no time for me. Is it even worth discussing this matter that is very important to me if I project unimportance from the other party onto my feelings?"

You don’t say anything, willing another bottle of wine to appear next to the empty one on the coffee table.

“You can’t tell me I’m wrong. It’s what you do,” Mia says, confidence in the way she straightens up against the couch. And she isn’t wrong, but maybe you aren’t either. Frankie isn’t her. Frankie isn’t your best friend. He’s friendly, and you fucked.

“Okay, fine,” you say. You focus in on Mia’s eyes, imagining a different pair of them staring back at you. “I just—I want to tell you that what happened…was a first. In a long while. And I don’t know how to say it like a normal goddamn person, but—”

You can’t focus, words flying out of your mouth too fast for your tipsy brain to keep up. Your feelings are a jumble in your head, a vintage game of Scrabble lost to time. Mia’s not Frankie either. You’d have to explain it and provide all this context that you can’t even put words to for her to understand. For this to feel any ounce of real. Frankie would simply get it. But he won’t, because at this rate you’ll never get to tell him.

“I don’t know,” you sigh.

“Well I can’t make you do anything. I know you, and you’ll do what you think is best. Even if you know the alternative might be better,” Mia says. You can’t help but laugh. “I kind of get it, how your dad felt? When we were at school.”

The mood turns. Not sour, not quite the same. Your living room has a palpable edge ebbing through it now, carried through the occasional waft of alcohol between you, Mia, and the open, empty bottle.

“Do you remember him when we were in college?” you ask, voice quiet.

“Your dad? Of course. He was so, I don’t know—hands-on? He was around way more than my parents were,” Mia says.

He showed up every third weekend of the month with a few containers of leftovers; macaroni pie, frozen meatloaf and mashed potatoes, fresh tomatoes from his garden.

A man who only softened when you elected to up and leave. A man you resented until the day he died. A man you still resent, deep down in your soul. Yet you miss him.

The first time your heart’s been activated in years to throw you off assured feet and your first instinct is to run home to Dad. He lingers in your car, in the way you hold the gravy boat at Mia’s Thanksgiving dinners; his gloves are what you wore in the months of a tiresome film shoot amid an unending New York blizzard.

You hate him. He loved you. For the sixth time this week, you ponder driving home to clean up his grave. You can’t right now, because of work. Maybe when the summer’s over. The leaves will have started to fall. The headstone could use a good power wash.

“Where’d you go?” Mia asks.

“Hm?”

“You disappeared on me for a second,” she says.

“Thinking,” you say.

“Mm, don’t do too much of that. You’ll break your brain.”

“Already broken.”

“That’s too bad,” Mia smiles. “Had some pretty great thoughts sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“All the time,” she corrects. Mia gets off the couch, taking a minute to steady herself. “I’m calling a ride.”

“Excellent idea,” you nod. “See? Look at you. Responsible, quick-witted. You can do the thinking for the both of us.”

“Slow your roll, Romeo,” Mia cautions, staring into her phone. She looks up at you. “The night is still young. I’m only going home because you’re dry.”

“There’s a reason you keep alcohol at your place and I don’t,” you say. There have been some days, far behind you now, where you might’ve just drank the pain away. Certainly not the way to go.

She leaves you with another laugh and a smile, promising to text you when she gets home. The apartment stills as soon as the door shuts. You almost open it again, reaching for the knob to lean out into the hall and call Mia back. You don’t, instead letting the quiet envelope you. This doesn’t feel the same as the loneliness that would lurk in the shadowy corners of the room. Your lamps finally feel tall enough to reach those spots, dawning light on them and banishing the feeling.

You let yourself sit with it. Not lonely but alone. This isn’t permanent and it’s not a death sentence, as uncomfortable as it feels right now. Mia is there, along with an assortment of friends whose names you’ll have to dust the cobwebs off of soon. Even if Frankie never calls, you’ll be okay. A bittersweet realization for this dull and itching moment.

Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you pass the bathroom, you pause. You watch yourself, not in judgment like the last time. Plain observation. You blink three times in one minute before moving on.

It’s odd, looking without really looking. You’ve oscillated between dissection and avoidance of yourself for the last handful of years. This is a new skill to build. Look, there she is. A blink in passing.

Wherever you go, there you are. Get used to it.

Back on the studio lot for the rest of the week, you don’t see Frankie. The occurrence becomes less and less significant as the days pass. You almost delete his number from your phone altogether. Almost.

At lunch, you go through your phone to his contact, finger hovering over the trash button. In the end, you decide against it. It’s a number you might need for work. It’d be a pain in the ass to have to go down to payroll for his contact information—like you don’t have the digits memorized. Mia joins you at some point, minutes blurring together as you eat in pleasant silence.

Shooting goes over almost two hours because of rain leaking through the roof onto a set piece. You get home close to midnight. The street lamps bathe everything in a warm glow. Puddles have collected in the divets of the road, water reflecting the artificial light alongside the cold moon.

The elevator ride up to your floor should be like any other. Your instincts know better. Watching the digital numbers change as the metal box ascends, your stomach flips in your gut. You’ve always been acutely aware of the environments you found yourself in, bullshit meter finely tuned to warn you when shit was about to hit the fan.

It’s an instinct your father grew and nurtured in childhood. Because of him, all hard edges and unreachable wells of emotion. He was iced over solid. You found yourself carefully skating over that surface, around and around again for years until you left.

When the elevator doors open, you half-expect to see him standing there. Risen from the grave like a corpse from your dreams. The wall of shiny metal parts into two, and you see someone. Not your father. The breath caught in your throat flashes from crisp to boiling, a tube of Icy Hot slathered across your lungs.

You’ve never told Frankie where you live. So what is he doing here?

Before you’ve even made it to your door, you ask him.

“Thought I’d missed you,” he supplies as an explanation. “Or that you were ignoring me from inside.”

“I can ignore you from outside, too,” you say, setting your bag down. Taking keys from your back pocket, you avert your eyes as you get a grasp on the one for your front door.

“Listen,” he begins, watching as you turn the lock. “I—”

“Look, Frankie. I don’t have time for this. Or you, or your games.” Turning the handle of the door and pushing it open, you grab your things and step inside your apartment. “You said you’d call. You didn’t. End of story.”

“The phone works both ways,” he says. You try not to be shocked at the audacity.

“Well this,” you say, pointing between the two of you, “doesn’t.”

You’re shutting the door when he gently rests a hand on the reinforced wood.

“Please just—let me explain?” Frankie asks. You don’t close the door but don’t open it any wider for him. At that, he says, “Thank you.”

Glancing behind you to find the living room clock, you say, “You’ve got two minutes.” Two minutes to midnight.

“I wanted to call, but I—” Frankie cuts himself off. “I was a coward and that’s not fair to you. I’m sorry. I don’t usually feel this way about people. Not in a long time.”

His words are scratching at your heart. You hold your steely gaze against him, ignoring your insides slowly melting behind the door.

“I really like you. More than I’ve liked anybody. More than I like myself most days. That night in Florida was confusing for me. You wanted me there, and I wanted you. And then you said it was scary and I realized just how terrifying it is. This is.” Frankie takes a breath. “I didn’t want this to be weird. Didn’t want to box you into a corner with all of this shit I’m feeling because that isn’t fair and—”

He’s been avoiding focusing on you, instead staring at the nice tile scuff between the doorway and his boot. Frankie looks up, words playing straight on his face. He looks like he’s seen a ghost when all he’s looking at is you.

“And now I’m some fucker on your doorstep begging you to listen to me tell my sob story.” From the sounds of it, that’s the last thing he wants.

“Sometimes things don’t work out. That’s life,” you say. You’re telling yourself that this is the smart decision. Ice him out and your heart stays safely in your chest. Close the door and he’ll forget all about you.

Frankie’s eyes are wide, expression raw. He isn’t observing or puzzling over you, he’s barely hiding anything on that face of his. Frankie is bleeding emotion all over your door. You want to take him in your hands and kiss it better. Lick the gore from his mouth, words crimson and dripping off his chin.

So you do.

Setting your bag down in the corner, you open the door wider to see all of him. He stands tall, all broad shoulders under his slubby blue button-down. You’re kissing Frankie before you can consider anything else. He takes ahold of the frilly sleeves of your blouse to pull you closer.

Licking at your teeth, Frankie walks you backward into the apartment. The door is still open. You maneuver around and press your back against it, closing with a thud. He breaks the kiss to murmur another apology against your cheek. You let him, pushing your tongue back into his mouth again.

Gripping the hair that sticks out at the nape of his neck, Frankie moans into the kiss.

“Are you—? Can we?” he asks, whisper-quiet. “Should we?”

No. Yes? You aren’t sure that it matters much anymore. “Do you want to?”

“Always.”

“Okay.”

The kiss is gentler from there on, moving through the front hall and living room with Frankie attached to your face. He almost trips himself taking his boots off. You both make it to the bed, thighs catching at the edge of the mattress. Lying down, he joins you. This is immediately better than that shitty motel, and you haven’t done anything yet.

Frankie moves onto his side, distracted by your lips as he works at the front zipper of your pants. You move your hand to join his, pulling the silver tab down over metal teeth like you’ve done a couple hundred times by now. He huffs in a wordless thanks, pushing your pants down until they are bunched at your ankles. You toe them off along with your socks, leaving you in nothing but underwear from the waist down.

He’s looking at you like an eclipse, utterly fascinated. You begin to shrink in on yourself under his gaze, but he gently runs the pads of his fingers over your cheek. You lean into the warm touch, three matches dragging against your skin to set your face alight.

Frankie kisses down your body, undoing a few of the buttons that sit over your chest. He doesn’t take the shirt off of you, instead pushing it up as his lips kiss over your stomach. You jerk, the soft feeling sending a jolt through your body.

“Please,” you whisper. “Please touch me.” You hate that you’re begging, but love to hear yourself do it.

Frankie does too, moving his mouth over you as he keeps your underwear on. He licks at you over the lycra material, soaking the already damp fabric where your clit sits beneath it. Dipping his tongue low against the gusset, he slips two fingers under your waistband and tugs it away from your skin. The panties peel off of you.

Frankie bunches them in his hand, leaving them beside him on the bed. Without warning, he’s on you again—really this time. He licks at your cunt fervently, like this is the last chance he’ll get to give head. You close your eyes and pull his head closer to your body, small moans slipping past your lips.

This is still a bit of an apology. The thought comes to you amidst your fuzzy haze as you drip onto his tongue. Frankie groans below you, taking your right thigh in one hand and hoisting it onto his shoulder. He’s attached to you again, a different set of lips.

Most of his attention is focused on your clit, his tongue swirling at it between moments when he presses it flat against the whole of you.

“You’re always so sweet for me,” Frankie mumbles. “Wet and pretty. D’you like it when I fuck you with my mouth?”

“Yes, fuck—always,” you sigh.

Dragging him up by the hair, you kiss him again. You need to before you say something stupid. One hand is held softly at your jaw while Frankie’s other hand works you over, pressing hard against your clit.

“God.” Your heart is racing underneath your skin, beating too fast to be quite comfortable.

Frankie’s so close and everything smells like him. Frankie and sex; two things this room has never been exposed to in your tenure here. You should make a candle.

You scratch at his chest, half-hoping to draw a bit of blood as you whine his name.

“Yeah honey? That good? Nice and slow, or—?”

You nod and he slips a finger inside of you, pressing against the front wall of your pelvis. This returns you to begging for more, for anything. For him.

At the edge of an orgasm, Frankie’s fingers leave you in search of a condom. You reach out to the drawer of your bedside table, yanking it forward. Amongst a stash of pens, sticky notes, and batteries is a handful of them. Frankie takes one and opens it up, sliding the latex over his cock. One day, you’ll get your mouth on that thing. Right now you both have other plans.

He works his hand over himself a couple of times before sinking onto the mattress with you. His arms cage you in at either side as he slides in slowly. He’s only halfway inside you when you nod to yourself, a hum barely audible.

“What?” he asks.

“Noting that you’re a missionary type of guy,” you say.

That pulls a laugh from him, morphing into a squeezed moan as you hook one leg over Frankie’s hip. He’s pushed the rest of the way inside of you, breathing heavily at the surprise.

“You’re gonna kill me.”

“Would that be so bad this way?” you ask. It’s hard to keep up the sarcastic banter when you’re so full of him.

Frankie sighs. “No.” The word is punctuated by a thrust of his hips, the force moving you up the bed half an inch.

What you would give to have him fuck you into the headboard; pound you into the mattress. He can’t, shouldn’t, and seems to know it already. Frankie grants you your wish of laying on you though. Just lightly, a feather of a man on top.

Frankie’s cock kisses the end of your cunt before he pulls out again. You hold onto him, pressing him closer as you keep your face in the shadow of his neck. Picturing the scene, pants off and shirts on, almost makes you laugh. Another punch of his hips fucks the thought from your head as you sink your teeth into his skin. Frankie hisses, losing his rhythm with a slight stutter.

“Do that again,” he says, waiting. You do, kissing at the tender skin of his throat this time before you bite him. The flesh between your teeth is soft and elastic, pulling away from his body.

In Frankie’s absence, your appetite has grown. Maybe that’s what it is: starvation. Waiting for days to get your fill once again. You need him inside you—in your cunt, under your skin, between your teeth. You would devour him if he’d let you.

“You feel so fucking good.” His words come slow, contrasting the small gasps he pulls from you on every thrust, leaving you breathless. Frankie is holding you in almost a cradle now. Claustrophobia settles between your bodies deliciously, the world shrinking down to a pinhole as he fucks you.

It doesn’t quite feel like fucking, though. The way Frankie touches you is too soft in some places, and the way he’s looking at you is killer. His eyes flash with that unexplainable thing, stirring your stomach as you feel your peak again. This is a murder. He’s returning the favour.

The next kiss Frankie gives you is bruising. The heat of your skin against his boils over, the oxygen blur caused by your faulty lungs and the slap of his hips against yours doing you in. You come with a groan, panting into his mouth as he continues to thrust into you.

“So pretty when you come,” he says beside your ear. “So pretty always, sweet thing.”

He pulls out of you, jerking himself off through the condom over your body. You shake your head, removing the thin piece of rubber. You pick up where he left off, spitting on him and stroking Frankie’s cock with the tight circle of your hand.

“Fuck,” he moans, long and loud. “Honey, slow down. Where do you want it?”

“In my mouth.” Testing, you give him a kitten lick at the tip of his dick.

“Oh god.”

You shake your head. “Just me.”

He comes with a few more strokes, striping your tongue, your lips, your chin. You let him go to gather it from your skin onto your fingers. It’s only a little shiny here in the half-dark. You can feel Frankie watching when you press your index past your lips, tasting more of him.

He groans. Again, he says, “You’re gonna kill me.”

Frankie lays down on the empty side of the bed. You brace for his after-sex questionnaire, but the conversation never comes. He rolls onto his side to face you, slipping his arms around your torso as you face away from him.

Eventually he asks, “You still like me being here? Now that it’s here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Florida, it’s a vacation. This is a little more…” Permanent. Memorable.

Whenever you went home for the summer, your childhood bedroom plagued you with thoughts and memories long buried of your amateur firsts. Your brain still sort of worked like that—you’re sure that if you went back to your old unit in California, the handful of PAs and dolly grips you spent nights with would be one of the first things on your mind.

“Yeah,” you say, answering the question. “This is better.”

“Better?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you mumble into the pillow.

“Too late,” Frankie says.

You sigh. “How can you be the coolest guy ever and an absolute donut at the same time?”

“You think I’m cool?” he asks.

Unlike him, you’re honest. “Unfortunately.”

Frankie hums, the rumble of his chest sinking into the bones in your spine easily.

This is all easy. Listening to him breathe, letting him in your space, falling asleep against him. If you weren’t so thoroughly fucked and tired, the simplicity would freeze you, desperate to scramble away. All you can do is lay there, falling asleep in his arms.

When you wake up, Frankie’s gone. Again.

Something painful seizes your chest, an icy claw poking razor-sharp fingers through the slats in your ribs. The sheets on the empty side of the bed still have the faint glow of body heat. He must’ve left recently, or maybe he’s still up. You can catch him before he puts his boots on and walks out your front door—out of your apartment, out of your life.

Franke interrupts your thoughts when he returns to your room, a mug in his hand.

“Did I wake you?” he asks. His morning voice is low and gravelly. A feast for the ears.

“No,” you shake your head. “I thought you left.”

“Moved my boots. They were getting dirt on your nice carpet.” Right. You remember him leaving them somewhere in your apartment. “I made coffee.”

“I’m okay.” You let your breathing even out as he sits back down on the bed with you. “We should…talk.”

“That’s all we ever do,” Frankie says. “Well, that and…” The other thing you two are so proficient at these days.

“I mean really talk. About this,” you say.

“Right,” he nods. Frankie sets his mug down, steam rising from the top. “I guess I do owe you a secret.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that.”

“It doesn’t,” he agrees. “I want to tell you.”

When you told him about the accident, about everything that changed, you’d handed him this soft and precious thing of yours that no one else had ever seen. With the roles reversed, your palms itch. You can’t help but think that you’ll drop his.

“But you have to promise me something first,” Frankie says. “Don’t say anything until I’m done, okay? Please.”

“Okay.”

A long moment of silence draws on between the two of you as he stares at your bed sheets. Frankie’s mouth twitches, filtering through his vocabulary to find the right words. Then finally, he speaks.

He tells you about a region in South America called Tres Fronteras. About a phone call, a decision, a heist. The money, most of it lost to the unforgiving land and sea. Frankie lost a friend, a wife, and a life he was trying to carve out for himself. All for riches that were never going to be his.

“I killed people. I was good at it—that and flying planes. And then all of that ended with the service. For a while there I was…a bit of a trigger-happy coke head,” he says, almost rolling his eyes. Frankie can’t seem to look at you, the same way he couldn’t in the hall. “Took a long time to clean up my act.”

You understand what he meant on that beach, an apology waiting behind your teeth as you keep your eyes on him. You don’t verbalize it. Instead, you take his hand into yours. Gently, you squeeze.

“I guess you aren’t the only one squirrely about secrets,” Frankie whispers.

“Can you look at me? Please?”

Frankie surrenders, face drawn when he meets your eyes.

“That’s not the person you’ve shown me. It’s not the guy that I see. We change. For worse or for better.”

You would be lying if you said that his admissions don’t unsettle you; that this is an easy pill to swallow. But you know him. You want him. He and you are cut from the same cloth in the end. This changes nothing.

“Which one do you think you are?” he asks.

“Worse.” But that can change. Is changing, even as you sit here.

“And me?”

At that, you smile. “Better.”

You want to tell him that the promise of seeing him had been one of the only things getting you through the slow, thick haze of summer. That the thought of him never calling was a little devastating, no matter how sad that sounds. You miss his touch and want his eyes on you always. You’ve never had such a quick turnaround in opinion about anything. It’s selfish, really.

“I’m kind of a bad person,” he says slowly. It’s half warning, half realization.

“Good and bad are concepts from make-believe. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

“So what do you worry about?” Frankie asks.

“Reality,” you say. “My whole life is centered around making other people believe in something fake. Concentrating on what’s real? That’s been keeping me sane lately.”

Mia’s words. Frankie’s attention. That tangible feeling of warmth, different but the same, when you are around both of them.

“And you’re real,” you say before he can ask. “A bit of a fuck up, but so am I.”

“That must be why we get along,” Frankie says.

“Must be.”

You want to add you’ll be okay to that list of real things. You need it. You’d kill for it. Silently, with your head against the pillow, you make a decision.

tags: @wannab-urs / @anoverwhelmingdin / @iamskyereads / @for-a-longlongtime

#pedrostories #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal fanfiction #fic: the world tipped on its side

53 notes · View notes

utilitycaster · 2 years ago

Note

The wildest part about the reaction to Ashton’s comment is that Laudna herself didn’t even seem to take it personally? Her reaction to it seemed more like “ok that’s not true and I’m going to push back on it, but you’re clearly having a self destructive dark night of the soul and I want to make sure you’re okay”. Like give our girl a little more credit here.

Hey anon,

Hope you don't mind but you are getting a heavily edited and more measured part of the threatened rant because like. Yeah. That's the thing isn't it? Laudna is the one who sought out Ashton while they were drinking. And when he slips into self-pity, she tells him to snap out of it, but she's not mad. I happen to agree with this meta that Ashton isn't saying "I know loneliness and you don't"; they're saying "I know the very specific loneliness of not knowing where I came from". (I also think there's a possibility that they're saying "I know the loneliness that comes from knowing the people who weren't there when you came back to life could have been and chose not to"; it's not that Laudna didn't wake up alone the first time, it's that she was alone because everyone else was dead whereas the Nobodies could have chosen to stick by them and did not.) And then, the next day, he apologizes (something Imogen does not do), and she tells him not to be too hard on himself.

Laudna clearly looks on this conversation positively. She even brings it up when she talks with Imogen in that manner - she doesn't say "wow can you believe what that asshole said?" but rather focuses on Ashton's compliment to her. I mean, it's nothing new, for people to carefully ignore any context that might more sympathetically frame a character they hate, or to defend how perfect and traumatized their Mary Sue-ass interpretation of a female character is in such a way that it denies the actual agency and emotions of that character as portrayed on screen, but it's just as stupid every time, as is the constant insistence that the best way to have a ship is to isolate two characters such that they only have each other, that they're the only ones who can ever truly understand each other.

You know, I've seen people draw parallels between Laudna telling Imogen the choice is up to her regarding how they proceed tomorrow, and Imogen telling Laudna that the choice was up to her during her resurrection. And here's the thing: Imogen's appeal to Laudna during the resurrection failed. The goal of bringing Laudna back succeeded, but Imogen's specific attempt was a minor hindrance, not a help.

I can't help but wonder if Laudna leaving things to Imogen might end up the same; that they keep going on, together, but these hairline fractures keep building up and never healing, and perhaps one day there will be too many.

Shippers keep saying this is so beautiful because it's about giving each other choices when they've never had any, but that's patently untrue. Laudna had no choice in Delilah, but really, given how normal people even in small towns like Heartmoor Hamlet have been towards her, or the fact that she's not significantly weirder than Weva Vudol, or the fact that every shopkeeper in Exandria is, canonically, fucking bananas, there's a lot she could have done in those 30 years. I mean, she somehow made it to Gelvaan which is not exactly something you fall into from Tal'Dorei without making some kind of decision. Imogen had no choice in her powers but otherwise she's had no shortage of choices. In fact, that's quite literally what Laudna is saying: Imogen always had the option of going to live in a cottage and raise horses. Imogen has always had choices, and doesn't need to kill the gods to free herself.

For that matter, could you not draw a similar parallel between Laudna's transformation at the hands of Delilah without her choosing, and Ashton, who was part of a ritual as a young child below any reasonable age of consent that permanently changed them physically? Or FCG, who was quite literally programmed to be who they are? If you take off the shipper goggles and actually remember that there are five other characters, suddenly these parallels become far more widespread.

But also: here's the thing about leaving all the choices up to the other person. It protects you from the possibility that they might say no to you. It reframes things: had Laudna not been successfully resurrected, she's not saying no to Imogen; she's making her own choice, even though the result is the same. If Imogen goes with Otohan now, well, then Laudna can tell herself that it was Imogen's choice to side with the woman who murdered her, but at least she has the thin comfort that Imogen didn't exactly say "no" to a direct appeal; that it's merely an implied rather than explicit betrayal.

It's just...I know this campaign is a little weird in that this massive world-ending event is happening comparatively early; but also, Imogen and Laudna have known each other for two years. And obviously Imogen isn't Vex, she isn't Vax, she isn't Fjord, she isn't Beau or Yasha, but like, you know what all of those people did when they were facing a dangerous situation and thought death was imminent? They, through word or action, looked at the person they loved and didn't just say "I love you", they said "I'm in love with you", "can I kiss you," or opened the door naked. They said "I might die tomorrow and I cannot go forward without telling you that this is something more than just friendship to me," knowing that it was possible that, on the last night of their life, the person they loved might turn them down. Hell, Keyleth did initially turn Vax down, and he still did it.

Imogen and Laudna? They spent the night the same way they might have at the very beginning of the campaign - before the campaign, even. Laudna said she loved Imogen in what, episode 6? They've been sharing rooms and beds for two years. Nothing has changed in their relationship. And it is my suspicion that nothing will, until one of them actually asks something of the other. And again - that's all it will take for me to go from "this is boring and empty" to "ok, this is a ship" - for them to be able to take a risk.

I could quite honestly go on but like...this reply, which I got shortly after Laudna's death (when I said there was value in a story in which she remains dead) has haunted me since.

It really explains everything, doesn't it? It's why people were mad when I said it was valid for Imogen to be upset at Laudna about the gnarlrock; it's why they were mad that I said that there was no canonical basis for the people of Gelvaan or Relvin mistreating Imogen (in fact, it outright contradicts what we've seen in canon); it's why they hate Ashton right now. It's why if Imogen is interested in the gnarlrock as a way to find relief from her powers and gets mad at Laudna for breaking it, she sucks, but if Imogen considers starting the apocalypse to find relief from her powers it's totally fine. It's why they'll harass people for saying "you know, it could be an interesting story if Laudna dies permanently," and then turn around and offer more sympathy to Otohan - the character who would have been responsible for that permanent death - than they do to Orym, the character who has lost two family members and nearly his own life to her. Because Otohan might have murdered Laudna, but damn, at least she seems to ship it.

They don't see Imogen and Laudna as separate characters who can grow and change - they don't even refer to Laudna as her own fucking name, just as part of a portmanteau - and they are terrified whenever the two have even the slightest conflict (not unlike Imogen and Laudna themselves) because it means that the characters interact with people other than each other. Laudna dying permanently isn't a character death to them - it's "throwing [the ship] away." Laudna having other conversations and relationships is a threat to the ship, even if Laudna enjoys it - in fact, especially if Laudna enjoys it. Other people coming into Imogen's dreams with the express purpose of helping her is a threat. Because if either of the characters ever realize that this codependency isn't serving them, and that they have other people who will stand by them and won't leave them to their loneliness...well. The constant reassurances that they have each other might no longer be enough if they have other people.

That's why the shippers are mad at Ashton. Yes, because it's a possible competing ship; but also because they pointed out that Laudna had six people by her when she woke up, not just one, and that opens the door to Laudna realizing she has other people who will stand by her, and who aren't openly and repeatedly entertaining an alliance with her murderer. They do not actually give a shit about how Laudna feels.

#answered #Anonymous #long post #critical role #critical role spoilers #me @ laudna: girl your security blanket is full of asbestos fibers #anyway for those wanting more rants in this vein please feel free to ask me why this is not comparable to caleb and veth's relationship #or uh. really anything about why it's like. not good or interesting as a ship

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honey-milk-depresso · 3 years ago

Note

HCS for the NRC staff with a child Fem MC who behaves like Klee uwu

The title says it all-

Also, I'll make it a little more

f a n c y-

And I'll make this gender neutral, hope you don't mind! ^^

TWST adorable but chaotic child, s/o (Klee) (Platonic)

Dire Crowley

Oh sevens-

Now, now, he knows you don't mean it-

he wants to believe-

But-

You know-

Aiyah-

You create a giant mess no matter what.

He tries his best to steer you out of trouble

But then again, Crowley can't help but fall to victim to your adorable face,

and actually, most of the time it's unintentionally from both you and him

mostly-

You just thought he wants to hang out,

and you're elated when he does so!

But... it might end with an explosion...

Correction, explosions.

But, regardless, you're his little s/o,

and he can't deny you that you don't give joy in his life <3

Divus Crewel

You

Drive

Him

N U T S-

How can such an adorable child,

cause this extraordinary amount of mess in one day???

How-

Divus is like a strict mother,

always reprimanding and nagging you to stop.

But, he knows you don't really mean it.

Sometimes, you didn't even know that could happen.

And how could he stay that mad with those adorable little puppy eyes?

He couldn't.

Well, he won't fall victim when you suggests something dangerous to do.

No puppy eyes.

You won't fool him.

But alas, you're his precious little pup at the end of the day.

Anyone who dare try to put you in harms way,

he would take care of them promptly,

or wait for that instant karma of yours to trigger.

Explode them into the oblivion, little precious pup <3

Mozus Trein

He's so done-

absolutely-

he's this old, come on now-

And he's got three kids, what did you expect.

All he can do is just watch the chaos unfold,

as you jump around, completely oblivious of the troubles you have caused.

He reprimands you, but you can tell slowly, he's losing it and he's about to give up.

But, he can't really, right?

You are still a child,

how can he expect you to know anything.

And he can't really give up on you when you keep staring at him with big, sparkling eyes every time you show him a crayon drawing of you, him and Lucius.

He can't give up on you.

He lets you play with Lucius, so long as you don't leave wherever Trein is.

He looks up from his papers and...

And.... Lucius looks so done as you cuddle him and coo about how cute Lucius' paws are.

Sigh, you really are a troublesome child to deal with, aren't you?

Ashton Vargas

Honestly,

has no idea wtf he's doing-

The minute he's not around and he comes back within another minute,

BOOM there's explosions and students screaming everywhere.

Well,

Like-

Dang-

He can't really say "damn" unless he wants Divus to frickin smack him with his stupid stick-

But regardless, Ashton still remains as a cheerful father figure to you,

And boasts to you about his muscles,

and that you should try coming with him to fly on brooms!

Just... make sure not to cause an explosion behind you.

It's survival of the fittest when it comes to taking care of you,

who knows what will happen wen you're around.

Explosions? Fires? Arson-

Who knows!

But usually no one gets SERIOUSLY injured.

So, all is fine!

Just remember kiddo, you're his number one besides himself! <3

Sam

Oh my-

Oh dear-

This can't be good-

Honestly did not expect a cute child like you,

to be the cause of all the explosions behind you.

Are you a child???-

He knows you don't mean it,

but it's kind of unsettling to him that you seem unfazed by the explosions behind you..

But, you're still a child, maybe you don't know..?

He hopes that's the case-

Sam himself is still learning how to handle a kid,

and you are like-

God level difficulty-

Because you are just

c h a o t i c

Much like him but you're way more than that.

He tries his best to nag at you to stop,

but ultimately can't resists your puppy eyes.

You're too cute!

AHH HE CAN'T TAKE IT-

He usually shows you all the cool things his store has,

and what they can do!

And I swear he shed many tears- a tear when you drew a picture of you and him with so much youthful innocence in it.

Ahh, you are such a problematic, little monster child. He loves it <3

901 notes · View notes

irwinkitten · 5 years ago

Text

got lucky | c.h

requested by anon: ok so for the bi!reader concept: last year i ended my relationship w this girl the main reason was because she was really insecure and jealous especially about me being bisexual like anytime i would talk to a guy she would just get so upset about it and she would make such gross biphobic comments and at the time i had so much internalised biphobia that i tried to convince myself i was gay n stayed in the relationship longer than i should have because i rly liked her i guess lol anyways (1/4) we ended and a while afterwards i started seeing this guy who i’d known of for ages (friends of friends type situation) but we just never really talked before or hung out but from the first date we clicked and the sex was crazy good like the type of sex were ur ditching ur vibrators cuz he’s that good lmao so one weekend we went to this party together and of course she is also there, i was so surprised and i could see her eyeing us the whole night, so when she came over i was anxious af (2/4) and this guy knew i was bi! it was no secret, i worked really hard to accept myself! so she comes over and she deadass goes “are you straight now? i knew you would end up with a man!” and she’s all smug but also hurt and im standing there like what the fuck and THEN this dumb man goes “ha guess the sex is so good i made her straight again” and i’m literally about to cry over how gross the whole interaction is and im so shocked i can’t even defend myself, i dumped him that night obviously (3/) last messgae: so basically can you pls do a redo of the gross situation where instead of being with that dumb guy its with calum and he is so protective n sweet n NORMAL n encourages u to stand up for urself about bisexuality / your sexuality, because what happened to me happens too often and its disgusting and gross and no one deserves that!! only if u feel comfortable/inspired tho, no pressure!! love u laura, thank u for creating such a safe space for all the queer babies it means a lot 💘 notes: i kinda enjoyed writing this one esp for my sweet anon baby. i love u and i hope this is everything you wanted ♥ warnings: biphobia, implications of emotional abuse

word count: 3.2k

donate to my ko-fi here

“Hey what’cha doing sweets?” Calum’s voice pulled you from your musings, your hand idly tracing patterns against the paper but the pen remaining on the desk. You wrenched your thoughts from the spiral you seemed to have fallen down, a smile crossing your lips as you felt your heart flutter at the sight of him.

“Nothin’. Just thinking.” You finally replied as he pulled up one of the spare chairs next to you, the bustling activity of the coffee shop falling into your background noise as his thigh pressed against yours.

“Really? Normally you doodle when you’re just thinking.” He countered with ease and your eyes dropped to the paper, noticing that the pen remained where you’d placed it when you first sat down. Subconsciously you must’ve realised that the route your thoughts had gone were not suitable to put down on paper, your fingers picking up the pen and mind falling blank immediately.

“Oh.” You breathed before placing the pen back down and packing away the pad and pen.

“What’s running through your head, doll?” Calum’s voice was quiet and concerned, you shrugged.

“Just, a lot on my mind is all. You’re not my keeper just because we’ve slept together.” You admitted quietly and he frowned before picking up his bag and for a sinking second you thought he was going to walk off, but instead, he took your bag from your hands and slung it over his shoulder.

He looked back at you expectantly and you sighed before standing up, leaving the coffee shop with him, your eyes on the floor as you fell into step next to him.

“Your place or mine?”

“E’s gonna be home and I don’t want to hear them rant about me bringing people back.” You muttered and Calum nodded.

“I think Ash is out. He’ll probably head out to Luke’s if I show up with you.” At his smirk, you rolled your eyes fondly before shoving him towards the bus stop. His indignant “hey!” was only ignored as you two waited for the bus, his arm slung over your shoulders.

Selfishly, you leaned into his touch, trying to ignore the fact that your stomach was doing flips at his touch alone.

The bus journey was a quiet ten minutes, but Calum seemed to understand that you weren’t willing to talk with so many people around, so he was content to just keep you close, and you were unwilling to pull away until his stop came up.

When you reached his shared house with Ashton, you noted that the car was gone from the driveway and Calum smirked.

“Looks like he’s out. C’mon.” His hand tucked around yours and pulled you inside. And for a second you wondered if you could distract him with sex, but then the guilt appeared and you could feel the tears of frustration appear as your thoughts swirled and you felt dizzy.

Calum had stepped ahead, turning to see you stood leaning against the closed door, head in your hands and he knew something was wrong. Stepping back to you, he dropped your bags and took your hand in his, pulling you upstairs to his room and your stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“Cal I-”

“I’m not suggesting that.” He muttered. You fell silent at that and as he pulled you into his room, you felt unsure, but he gave you no chance to really deny him as he crawled into bed before opening his arms out to you.

“Cal.”

“I know you. You don’t do emotional stuff well but I’m here for a cuddle and an ear if you need it.” You fell into the embrace easily, your head resting on his chest as his arms wrapped around your shoulders, his lips finding your temple as you finally felt something in you snap, the surge of emotions overwhelming and frighteningly vivid.

“I keep telling myself that I never was a lesbian, that I still found men attractive but Poppy made me feel like having that attraction was stupid since I was dating her and that I was a lesbian and it’s so fucking confusing because I like you, but I can hear her voice screeching that I’m not right, that I’m a lesbian or faking it or a freak.” And for the first time since you left Poppy, you cried.

Calum had been waiting for this. When the split had happened, you’d been ready for it, you’d already left her mentally, but this was what he knew you needed. He knew that the relationship with her had been toxic, but you’d never revealed the extent of her behaviour.

His heart broke.

“Just because you like both men and women does not mean you should feel so guilty over your sexuality. There’s a B in LGBT for a reason, doll. That’s you. You’re bisexual and you should be proud of that, not ashamed because some bitch with a control issue couldn’t handle the fact that you liked more than women.”

You found yourself gripping his shirt with your fists as you pressed your face into his chest, trying to stem the tears that seemed relentless. But Calum held his silence whilst you got it out of your system, knowing that you needed to get this off your chest.

“I’m sorry.” You finally got out, but he simply shushed you.

“She was a shitty person with an attitude to show. You shouldn’t apologise for the bitch.” His words were simple but it gave you a breath of ease, pulling away as hands rubbed your shoulders gently.

He was definitely too good to you, but he was there for you regardless and you were certain that you loved him for that.

“There’s gonna be a party on the other side of town in a couple of weeks. Ash took over the old Firefly down on Hartley. He’s revamping before opening the bar to the public. You fancy going?” And you smiled at the gentle distraction he was offering.

“We get at least a free drink if we show up, right?” And Calum laughed as he kissed your temple.

“He wouldn’t say no to me. Or you. In fact, I’m almost certain he’s expecting me to do full introductions on that night since Luke and Mike will be there with the others and their girls.” You rolled your eyes.

“It’s not like I went to school with Luke or anything.” Came your sarcastic retort and Calum laughed as the two of you settled for the evening.

“Pretty sure Luke last saw you when you started dating Poppy. He’s put two and two together but he won’t say anything unless you mention it. Even then he knows it’s not his place.” Your heart seemed to swell another size in affection for Luke.

“You’re making it difficult for me to not fall in love with you Cal. Good dick, you know how to use those lips and fingers of yours, you make me feel like I belong and you respect boundaries without me having to ask.” You finally muttered and Calum gave you an almost wistful smile.

“You may have been with Poppy but that didn’t stop me from being friends with you. You’re someone I’ve genuinely cared about from day one. Not gonna chuck that away because of who you are. Plus growing up with my mom and sister almost made certain I’d be in touch with my feminine side.” He teased but the sincerity and understanding in his tone eased your shoulders.

Your features softened at the admittance and you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Then I definitely got lucky to have you in my life at least, falling in love or not.”

—

When the day of the party rolled around, you felt sick with nerves and you couldn’t understand why.

When Calum rolled up to pick you up—he was driving to Luke’s who lived closest to the bar and you’d both get a ride back to yours before he picked up his car the following morning—he could see the nerves and the grimace on his face spoke volumes.

“What?” You all but demanded when you were debating outfits. He’d been sitting on the bed watching, but got up and held his hands out to you.

You took them hesitantly. His thumbs almost immediately started to soothe across the back of your hands to help relax you.

“Word has gotten around that Poppy is planning to show up. We haven’t exactly been quiet about our relationship, but I didn’t think she’d pull something like this.” And your stomach churned uncomfortably.

“We’re still going. Ashton promised free drinks and we’ll be in the VIP area right?” You checked and Calum nodded.

“Ashton has already told the bouncers that she’s not allowed near the VIP section. They’re checking and rechecking the lists to make sure she isn’t on one of them.” He explained and you let out a breath of air.

“Okay. It’ll be fine. It’s being handled and I’ve got you. Now which outfit do you think I should wear?” He studied your face for a second before a smile broke across his lips.

“The dark purple with the deep plunge. Is it wrong of me to flaunt in her face what she lost?” And you laughed as you kissed him.

“I mean, yes. But I also know that you want to show me off properly now that we’ve got things really settled.” You murmured and he grinned back unabashedly.

It was still an uphill battle, but he’d given you a lot to think about. And after gentle convincing, you’d found an LGBT friendly therapist who helped you process your thoughts. It helped you come to terms with accepting the toxic relationship that you’d been in but also it highlighted how beneficial Calum had been as a friend and confidant.

It also gave you the courage to ask Calum out officially, wanting to be with him entirely and not just in the evenings.

He took that in his stride and things shifted once more between the two of you. When you opened up to him about some of your sessions, you knew that your trust had been well placed because he never indicated anything to his friends and so you were never subjected to pitying stares or glares.

You were almost sure that you’d fall in love with him faster than you fell for Poppy.

The drive to Luke’s was filled with your nerves. You hadn’t seen Luke in years and you were also meeting his two other friends, Ashton and Michael as well as their partners.

“Ashton’s excited to finally meet you and stop telling me to be careful when I go to yours.”

Despite Calum living with Ashton, your schedules never seemed to match and more often than not, Calum could be found at your place, a small sanctuary from your hectic lives.

Ashton never begrudged that time you shared together, but Calum had mentioned a few times about how snappy he was being on the subject.

“He’ll chill when he realises I’m not out to break your heart or steal something.” You muttered with a chuckle. Calum snorted in return as he pulled into Luke’s driveway.

Your nerves return full force as he pulls you to the front door and steps in like he lives there.

“Hey fuckers, anyone about?” He called through and was met with calls of confirmation, another yell following that they were in the dining room. Your fingers squeezed Calum’s tightly and he didn’t hesitate to return it, his thumb soothing across the skin on the back of your hand.

“Look who it is!” A voice crowed loudly as he stepped into the dining room, followed by loud calls of greetings.

There was a flurry of introductions and you felt like the spotlight was being shone on you, under scrutiny from his best friends gazes once they had greeted their friend and Calum had introduced you. Or re-introduced you in Luke’s case.

“Well c’mon, the last time I saw you we were leaving school. What’s been happening to you?” Luke finally asked, indicating to the seat next to him. A small smile graced your lips as you sat down, Calum falling into the seat next to you as you shrugged.

“Life I guess? It’s been definitely more interesting with the different jobs and moving about. Building up a social life again.” Luke’s face filled with a frown at that.

Michael came in next.

“Building up a social life? Did you not have one?” His words held an innocent curiosity, yet you felt yourself hesitate.

“My ex was controlling to the point that I couldn’t do anything without their permission. They managed to make me believe that no one really wanted me around and I lost touch with old friends, like Luke.” You glanced to the side and he was frowning.

The others held varying degrees of stunned shock or disapproval.

“Well then he was a cunt.” Michael muttered and your eyes refused to meet theirs at the assumptions. Luke stayed quiet but his hand rested on your knee, squeezing it. You shot him a gentle smile in return.

“Well it’ll be good to have you back in our lives. Especially with these two knuckleheads.” He nodded at Ashton and Michael who immediately protested and you laughed.

It felt like you’d known them for years as you all had a few shots. Ashton, despite being the owner of the bar, wasn’t worried about turning up with his friends. He’d already explained to his staff that he’d be around for the rest of the night once he arrived and he’d told the small groups he’d be here and there.

After a handful of shots, the group of you made your way to the bar, your arm linked with Calum’s. There were separate conversations happening between you all, their girlfriends including you on their pamper night whilst the boys discussed a possible games night for all of you.

When you arrived at the club, you saw the queue of people waiting to get in and the subsequent groans from the line as the bouncer let you in, no questions asked.

Ashton guided the group of you to the VIP section and the music was still loud but you could still hear each other talking. You were chatting away with Luke’s girlfriend, arm still linked with Calum’s as Ashton disappeared to get drinks.

Calum pulled your attention away briefly, his lips by your ear.

“I’ve spotted her. She’s not seen us yet so don’t worry.” You barely nodded, acknowledging his words as you listened in, fighting to keep your nerves down.

The night continued and you were all a few drinks deep. Calum’s arm had barely left your waist all night as you talked and danced and drank. You’d been welcomed into his group of friends with an ease you never realised existed.

You’d deliberately not tried to seek out Poppy, silently praying that the universe would comply. But as the group of you stood out in the smokers area, huddled together under a heating lamp, your stomach sank as she stepped out, her eyes narrowing on you.

“Fuckin’ knew it!” You could feel the alarm in your face as you stepped back into Calum, his arm going around you protectively.

“Poppy, you’re drunk.” You felt curious gazes from your new friends, but you didn’t spare them a glance.

“You break up with me and go running to his arms, I knew you weren’t a fuckin lesbian. Pretending to try it out? Just another straight girl seeking attention. Fucking freak.” She snapped and your stomach sank.

“Get it through your thick head that she’s bisexual.” Calum snapped in your defence, earning a glare from Poppy. But Calum didn’t shrink from the glare, your glance to his face confirmed he was giving her his own. You were mildly impressed that she didn’t back down instantly.

“She’s a fuckin liar! Years of my life wasted on this bitch.” She spat at your feet and you took in a deep breath.

“You don’t get to control me anymore, Poppy. I’ve liked both men and women, but you never liked that because it meant that I had more chances of leaving you. And I wished I’d have left you sooner. Calum certainly thought so.”

“Of course you fucked the first man to pay you any attention.” Your heart sank once more at her declaration and you felt your mind fall into the old trap that you’d fought with for so long.

“No she never. In fact she slept with a few girls long before she slept with me. But I was her best friend as she tried to deal with the mess you created in her mind.” Calum snapped back. You felt your heart swell for him.

Poppy stepped forward, her hand raised but then Ashton stepped in front of you.

“Get out. You’re no longer welcome in this bar.” He made a gesture and security slowly made their way over.

“She shouldn’t be fucking welcome!” Poppy yelled back, but Ashton held firm.

“She is my friend. You are not. Get. Out.” When the bouncer rested a hand on her arm, she shrugged it off and stormed away. Your entire body was trembling.

“So that was the ex, huh?” Michael commented and you could feel your hands trembling as you nodded. “Why didn’t you correct me?” Calum spoke up for you as his hands took yours.

“It’s been a battle for her. Poppy had convinced her she was a lesbian, that she was wrong for having any attraction to men. In Poppy’s world, either your gay, lesbian or straight. Being bisexual isn’t acceptable in her eyes.” Calum’s arms wrapped around you and you stood there, holding onto him for dear life.

“Well that makes two of us then.” Michael’s casual comment had your knees go weak and you let out a weak laugh.

“Thank you Ash.” You finally murmured when you pulled away from Calum. Ashton didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you in a warm hug that was both comforting and reassuring.

“Hey, you’ve been the best thing for my best mate. And you were friends with Luke once before. I’ve definitely got your back. And I get why you didn’t say anything and don’t hold that against you.” He muttered and you breathed a sigh of relief before returning to Calum’s embrace.

“More drinks or are we gonna go back to Luke’s?” And you shook your head.

“Let’s stay. I’m not gonna let her ruin it,” you leaned forwards so your lips were by his ear as the others went inside, “also I want to see if we can christen the bar in one of the toilets.” You breathed. Calum groaned as his grip around you got tighter and he pulled you in for a kiss that promised more.

“Oh you’re so fucked sweetheart. Especially since I know where the individual lips are and they aren’t attended by anyone.” You held back a moan at that thought before pulling away, your hand in his.

“Dance first?” And the innocence in your tone made him laugh as he followed behind you willingly.

“Menace.” The term was laced with affection as he caught up to you, kissing the spot just below your ear.

You simply grinned in return as you pulled him onto the dance floor, Poppy long forgotten as he danced with you.

@sexgodashton, @goth5sos, @calumsmermaid, @empathycth, @wildflowergrae, @calpops, @rosecolouredash, @cal-puddies, @clockwork124, @loveroflrh, @stellar5sosrecs, @ashtoniwir, @cthla, @liketheydidwithyou, @sc0ttish-wildfl0wer, @bluehairedtracii, @drummerboy794, @feliznavidaddycal, @i-calumhood, @wokeupinjapanisabop, @converse-luke, @madbomb, @ccnicole02, @youngblood199456, @aulxna, @megz1985, @lukesidentitycrisis, @snapback-irwie, @neonweeknds, @666yourwitchyfriend666, @gamerboymike, @cashtonasfuck, @ashtaway, @conquerwhatliesahead92, @itjustkindahappenedreally, @twoamhood, @kchillout, @damselindistressanu, @colormekaykay, @findingliam-o, @sublimehood, @sugarcoated-pain, @singt0mecalum, @singledadharrington, @calumspeachy, @colourfulcalum, @lostincalum, @burncrashbromance, @asht0ns-world, @a-mnd, @flusteredcliffo, @loti18, @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave, @clumclum-hood, @fangirl-everythang, @lashtondaddies, @calumssunshine, @ambskiwi, @abundant-stars, @caltattoohood, @seedless-vascular, @myescapefromthislife, @lmao5sosimagines, @beyoncesdragon, @jae-writes-fanfiction, @cxddlyash, @tresfandom, @utterly-u-n-p-e-r-f-e-c-t, @niallisworld, @lietomevalntyn, @babylon-corgis, @monochrome44, @behind-my-hazeleyes27, @ghost0fy0u, @lyllibug, @bloodmoonashton, @balsamic-cal, @calumsbaldhead, @washedout-ky, @calumssunshinee, @ghostofmashton, @summerellaz, @a-little-less-sixteen, @cashworthy, @smokeinherlungs, @longlastingdaydream, @h0tsos, @sweetcherrymike, @5sosnsfw, @sugar-nico, @sunnysideblog, @angel-cal, @samros95, @maluminspace, @lukeinblue, @cakesunflower, @allamerican-betch, @britnicole11, @gigglyirwin, @everyscarisahealingplace, @loverofcashton, @iovehemmings, @g-l-pierce, @jannimoeller3, @wildmichaelflower, @lukeskisses, @5sossstan, @youngbloodchild, @alloutofcashton, @tobefalling, @abb-lan-5sos, @calumsbub, @flameraine, @here-for-the-uproars, @mateisit-balsamic, @ilovelukey, @sarahshepherdblog

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heartbreakgrill · 5 years ago

Text

That Smile; Luke Hemmings, Pt. 4

description: in which songwriting is over, but there’s still lyrics left to be written.

a/n: FINISHED SERIES

You glared at the wall across from you, fist clenched in your lap, teeth grinding together. The bass bounced from wall to wall in the studio, in tune with your fast-beating heart. You resisted the urge to scream, to curse the world, to quit your job and move to western France with all ties cut to anyone you ever knew.

Especially him. His stupid face was grinning at the carpet, skinny jeaned legs crossed over one another boot clad foot bouncing in the air. His hair was ruffled, messy from running his hands through it time and again, pushed behind his ears by a pen on his left side. Those stupidly gorgeous blue eyes were trained on the floor, too, almost nervous to meet anyone’s eyes.

They wrote a song without you- well, Luke wrote it, he even composed all of the instruments. Then, while you were working with another client for a grudging week, they recorded it. Now, they were playing it for you with proud shoulders, like, “Look! We can do it without you!”

This was your last week together. After a little over six months of bonding, partying, drinking, falling, and, yes, songwriting, it was coming to an end. You had never grown so close to a set of clients before, and you were terrified at how much it was going to hurt, saying goodbye. You hadn’t spoken to Luke since the week prior to your absence. You texted in the group chat about a few ideas, spoke to Calum both on the phone and in real life, and had even gone on a double date with Michael, Crystal, and a god-awful redhead. Ashtons girlfriend had taken friendly to you after a few mores parties, so youd even seen her for lunch and shopping with Crystal a few times.

But, he just wouldn’t speak to you.

You didn’t know why. You racked your brain for reasons and answers, afraid to even ask the questions. He averted his gaze when you looked his way, shrugged off your compliments on his outfit or lyrics, hadnt even liked your latest Instagram post. You were craving for his attention, pushing up at the universe which was destroying your year.

Two heartbreaks, and it had only been six fucking months.

Calum, who was sitting next to you- of course- tapped his fingers against your wrist to get your attention. You looked away from Luke, who looked back at you. He was disappointed to see you staring at Calum, a small smile lifting the corner of your lips. You murmured something, Calum smiled, and you looked back to Luke.

He went to look away, but simply couldn’t. He was avoiding your pretty face because he wanted to get detached before he had to say goodbye entirely. He knew you guys could hang out, and you were planning to come to Ash’s next weekend, but it wouldn’t be like it had been weeks before he got your confession. Plus, he was going home to Australia for a month or two, before the album was released, tour started, so his heart could mend.

He loved you, and you loved somebody else.

“So?” Ashton spun around in the studio’s chair, cheeks pudgy with a smile, “What do you think?”

You looked away from Luke, “Oh, it was really good. Really...good. What’re you gonna call it?”

Luke felt brave energy on the tip of his tongue. “Why wont you love you,” he said, directly into your gaze.

You furrowed your brows, your head tilting involuntarily. “Wh-“

“Yeah, we think were done now. That was the last song were gonna have on the record.” Michael interrupted without even meaning to.

“So today is your last day?” Your breath hitched, eyes already bleary with goodbyes.

Calum slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, “Yeah. It is.”

You leaned into him without even meaning to, but Luke noticed. His bravery turned to venom, dripping off his frowning lips when he stood, headed for the door, and said, “Better get to confessing, Y/N.”

You stared at his empty seat, cheeks pink with embarrassment and sadness. Calum’s eyes screwed up with confusion, “What?”

Ashton and Michael looked towards you as you bent at the waist, cradled your torso. Calum got a better hold on you, hugging you as you began to cry. Ashton joined him on the other side, sitting on the arm of the couch. He rubbed your back, pushing hair out of your face.

Michael spoke, “What does he mean by confessing?”

“God,” you wiped at your cheeks, “God, I’m sorry.”

“What?” Ashton inquired.

You sat up a little bit because your chest hurt so badly, “I lied to Luke and told him I was in love with Calum because I love Luke and I didn’t want to make things weird. It was after my boyfriend broke up with me, so I was scared, and tired and my heart hurt so bad. And now Ill never see him again because he’s going back to Australia. And he didn’t even tell me that! He told Calum! Calum told me, and I feel stupid.”

Calum chuckled, sharing a knowing look with Michael, “Y/N, you dont have to apologize for defending yourself. You deserve the right to.”

“Yeah, its just human nature. Plus, I’m not sure it would make things weird,” Michael pursed his lips with quirked brows.

You looked up, “What?”

“Y/N, are you still scared?” Ashton playfully pinched your arm, smiling down at you when your eyes flickered to his.

“Tired?” Calum squeezed you in his arm.

“N-no, I’m just sad,” you admitted and pushed your hair back behind your ears.

Calum helped pull you from the couch, Michael gathered your things into your bag, and Ashton handed you Luke’s abandoned hoodie. Calum spoke as it happened, “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to freak you out or scare you, but his plane leaves in six hours. Ill send you his address-“

“I did you one better; Its in your Google maps,” Michael grinned like a child when your head popped out of Luke’s sweater, which Calum had pulled over your head.

You looked to Calum, confused, “Its raining, dont want you to be cold.”

“Get to his place, Y/N, drive safely, but drive quickly. Get there and tell him before its too late,” Ashton hugged you tightly.

Michael did, too, and, finally, Calum squeezed you in his arms. “Go, on, then.”

You hesitantly stepped towards the door, a small smile meeting your eyes, “Yeah?”

They nodded before you turned on your heel, taking off like a bat out of hell.

As you drove, it all began to make sense. The song he wrote, the way he looked you in the eyes and told you what it was called. The way he held you after you got sick, the way he looked at you when you were with Calum. The longing in his eyes when he saw you leaving the studio, at parties when you were dancing. He’d dance with a few times, but when youd get too close, he would linger away, deflated, defeated, and alone.

The way he smiled at you.

When you arrived, the rain slowed to a drizzle. Your name was still on the guards checklist, and he pointed you towards Luke’s house with ease. You quickly texted Calum you were there before turning off the car and abandoning your phone on the passenger seat. You jogged to his front door, stopped with your fisted hand against it.

Your eyes shut, rain falling from your eyelashes and hairline like tears. With three rasps on the door with your knuckles, you stepped back. The door hesitantly opened- he must have seen you in the peep hole. His eyes racked your body, almost smiling when he saw his damp hoodie clinging to your frame, before he met your eyes.

“Y/N, I’m sorr-“

“No, okay?” You stopped him with your hands and voice, “Just, no. Don’t speak, just let me get this out, okay? Luke, I am sorry for lying to you. I dont love Calum, unless you count as a friend. He is an amazing guy, but, Luke, he’s not you.”

Lukes eyes widened, their familiar blue color shining down at you.

“I have denied my feelings for so long because I am so afraid of you. You are tall, and so sweet, and insanely talented. And you look like fucking Aphrodite. You’ve been with so many pretty girls, so many talented, pretty girls who just- I dont look like them. Plus, I was scared because I was broken up with and, even though I’d lost feelings, it just hurts knowing someone doesnt want you anymore. I-I, dont know, I think I was just holding myself back because. There’s no reason, just because. I know I’m not a size 0 and I know I’m crazy loud and I get drunk sometimes and I can be kinda annoying, but, Luke, I never want you to sing Why Won’t You Love Me? and think of me. I want you to sing Valentine and Better Man and just think of me.”

Luke stepped forward, enveloped your hips in his hands. You pressed yourself against his chest before he responded, “Those size 0 girls just aren’t you, either, Y/N. They’re not loud or crazy or, yeah, even annoying. They dont make my heart leap when they sing or my fucking head spin when they laugh or look at me. You make me smile so much more than they could. Fuck fear, Y/N, just let go and give into it. There’s nothing to be worried about because I will be there to catch you, okay? I cant just think about when singing those songs, though. Y/N, you are in my head all damn day, it’s fucking grueling because I just want to hold you in my arms and kiss you all the damn time.”

“Then do it.”

When he pulled away from you, eyes screwed shut in overwhelming joy and satisfaction, that damn smile was grazing his lips. You kissed it off of him, clutching at his shoulders before your hands moved around to the buttons on his shirt.

“Gonna invite me in?” You whispered against his lips, squealing when he lifted you in the air and pulled you inside.

TAG LIST: @oopsiedoopsie23 @pixiiiiee @kingxnichole

#luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings x you #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings imagine #5sos blurb #luke hemmings blurb #5sos x reader #5sos x you #5sos imgaines

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zairapvrker · 5 years ago

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Teeth: Vampire!Luke // Chapter 6

Author’s Note: writing this gave me three migraines and two breakdowns followed by an existential crisis, but at least it’s out! i’m so so so so so sorry for the long wait.

Summary: Luke knows the rules and his boundaries, he has respected them for centuries. He knows he should stay as far away as possible from every human on his path. But that was before she came along.

Warnings: mentions of death, unedited.

masterlist | chapter 5 , chapter 7

Luke made his way through the populated hallways of the high school he’d condamned himself to attend, huffing in annoyance every few steps. He swore to himself the last time he did this to never ever try and pursue this kind of torture again - but he couldn’t really argue with his motifs after all, they were the same as forty years ago. Her.

For God’s sake, it’s not like he needed to be here - hell, he was born way before high schools were even concieved by the human mind and surely received a more than proper education - but she was, so he was.

“Stupid, moronic, unbearable teenagers” he murmured frustrated, avoiding a freshman who almost spilled the contents of his water bottle on him while tripping on air in an attempt to rush to his classroom. He hadn’t had a good night, usually he would unwind reading while waiting for sunrise, but he couldn’t deny that scaring the hell out of the creep that had dared put his hands on Bea hadn’t been fun. They guy deserved to walk away with far more emotionally scarring memories of the encounter in Luke’s opinion, but Ashton had interveined before the blond could have his true fun. His friend was more adamant than him in keeping a low profile and causing as little trouble as possible, and the fact that he’d enrolled in high school was already enough attention in Ashton’s opinion.

He scoffed, his train of thought interrupted as she walked into the classroom along with one of her new friends, Calum, he believed. Just before sitting down in the seat right behind the blue-haired boy’s, Bea spared him a small smile. Luke believed that if his heart was still beating, it would’ve stilled for just a split second. He didn’t like how human she made him feel, how everything he thought he’d finally suppressed for forever, came back with just a smile. This time was going to be different.

I hadn’t slept well, of course. I was already drained of all energy and emotion the second I stepped into the house. Then, of course, I had to deal with my mother’s questions, concearn and worry. It was far too late for my liking when I finally made it to my bedroom and even later when I could lay down on my bed after a trip to the police station and probably the longest shower of my life. However, sleep did not come my way as easily as I had hoped it would’ve. I could still feel the guy’s hands on me, grabbing and pulling and I could still see the fury in Luke’s eyes - somehow frightening yet comforting, foreign and absolutely familiar at the same time. Tossing and turning was all I managed in between short and troubled sleep breaks in which nothing but dreams of him saving me, over and over again through the centuries, kept me restless.

So it was no surprise to me when just after ten minutes of lesson, my mind slipped back to those dreams, my head hiding into my crossed arms and my eyes closing as the voice of my Physics teacher was washed away slowly.

I found myself wandering around golden decorated corridors, with paintings hanging in every corner and soft, distant music accompaining my steps. I caught my reflection in a mirror and stopped to stare at myself in disbelief. I let my hands caress the deep purple shiny fabric of my dress, a spectacular ball gown which reached the floor and had a very poofy skirt thanks to the heavy layers of fabric weighing me down. My hair was twisted in a very complicated updo, leaving space to dangling earrings. I let out a short surprised sigh as another hand sneaked around my waist, holding me close. “You look breathtaking” lifting my eyes to find his in our reflection, I smiled. It was like everywhere I went, there he was. “Thank you” I murmured back, his lips opening into a smile as well. Truth be told, he looked far more breathtaking than I did. As soon as he hooked my arm through his and guided me to the ball room, I felt like just a spectator, as if I was remembering a memory far far away. Rationally, I knew it wasn’t possible that this was something I had lived, I knew it couldn’t be me the one dancing around with Luke at a party in the Victorian England. Another part of me, the very irrational one, was telling me a whole other story. It lasted very little, the peace, the fesivity, the light conversation and atmosphere. I realized it felt like disaster followed us, everytime I saw him in my dreams. This time I was being dragged away, screamig his name, before I fell to the ground hurting, silent, as he ran towards me. Everything went black.

I woke up wincing lightly, hoping no one had caught it. I found Calum looking at me from over his shoulder quizzicaly, before turning around quickly. “Ms. Longford, is there a problem?” the teacher’s voice called. So much for not being noticed, I thought. Sitting up properly and emerging from my hiding spot behind Calum’s back, I shook my head. “No, everything’s alright”

Luckily, the bell interrupted whatever he was going to say next, as students started walking out of the classroom. My blue haired friend looked at me as if he wanted to ask something, but apparently let it go. “I’ve got to run to my next class, see you in English?” he asked as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Yeah, see you later” I smiled, earning one back before he walked away. As I quickly packed my stuff, I couldn’help but frustratedly sigh at the headache that was starting to creep from the back of my head. I still had too much time of school left for this inconvenience.

“Come with me” this time, unlike every other time, his voice didn’t surprise me. I turned around, finding him there looking at me with a grave expression. “Why?” and as much as I wanted my voice to sound firm and sure, I couldn’t help but find it shaky and light. His expression softened a bit and he just offered me his hand, surprisingly, I didn’t even have to think twice before grasping it in mine. He dragged me out of the classroom, not caring for the looks people were giving us, not even when we walked past Michael and Ashley - both having weirded out expression plastered on their faces. “Luke, can you at least tell me why am I following you? I needed to be there for my History class, we were going to start a new chapter and I really can’t afford to ditch-” “You can afford to ditch, you haven’t been absent one day” he interrupted me as he took a sharp turn for the back exit that lead to the football field. “And how would you know?” I stopped dead in my tracks, both out of breath for having to keep up with his freakishly long legs and fast pace and the accuracy of his statement. He stopped too, turning around in the middle of the path caved in the grass by generations of students who didn’t want to take the long walk to the field, and looked at me dead in the eyes. “Because I observe you”

“What?” I let out kind of shocked, but he didn’t answer rather started marching towards the bleachers once again. “Hey, no, Luke!” I tried to let go of his hand, but he was holding it too tight. “For fuck’s sake, can you at least let me breathe? I may come to school everyday but I sure as hell don’t partake in every gym class” I complained, almost panting an embarrassing amount, as we reached the bleachers and I finally plopped onto the nearest seat.

“Sorry” he just said, barely seeming so from his tone. I flashed him a very little amused smile as he sat down next to me. “What have you dragged me out here in the freezing cold to talk about?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest to hug my jacket closer.

“I now realize I probably shouldn’t have” he said staring straight at the empty field in front of us. I did too, waiting for him to say something. “I just can’t keep watching you being like this” he admitted, almost whispering. “Like what, exactly?” I asked, defensive. He looked at me briefly but intensely, as if to ask me to think twice about what I’d just said. “I’m perfectly fine” I stated firmly. “I’m just...” But I soon realized I didn’t really know what was up nor how to finish my sentence. “How is it any of your business anyway?” I asked. “I barely know you”

He scoffed. “Oh, you do know me, you just don’t realize it yet” “What’s that supposed to mean?” it was safe to say I was highly confused by now, yet I couldn’t let myself drop the argument. I had too many questions regarding the dreams that had plagued my nights for a month now, the fact that I felt like utter shit almost every day, how I seemed to trust him so easily and every reason why seemed to be him. But it just couldn’t be.

“You know what? You’re right. But you’ll figure it out by yourself, you always do” he said, not moving an inch. “I just don’t want it to end like it always does” “You talk like you know something I don’t” I let slip, just above a whisper. “It’s because I do” he smiled at me, and I swore it was the most familiar smile.

“Do you want to go study?” I asked, tired of being cold. “Since you made me ditch History” he laughed lightly, then nodded. Shortly after we were in the only classroom we found unused, the one where the school band practiced. I sat down at the first free desk and watched as Luke sat at the piano, taking a book out of his bag and started reading. Every few minutes my gaze shifted from my notes onto his figure, still focused on the pages he was reading, and had to force myself to keep my concentration. “Do you play?” I asked, giving in to the curiosity. He looked at me from over the rim of the book, nodding slowly. I smiled, secretly hoping he would understand what I meant. Luke shook his head, smiling softly, before letting go of his novel and finally letting his fingers dance on the piano keys.

As he played I couldn’t help but observe him, how he was lost in the music and how peaceful he seemed, opposite to how he always appeared. Beautiful as a broken angel. Suddenly, I felt my heart beating way too fast for it to be normal, almost producing a ringing in my ear, as a sense of déjà vu overtook my mind. Only this time, the scene unfolding in my head belonged to a different time.

“I lied” he stopped playing as soon as the words left my mouth, facing me with a questioning look. “Maybe I do know you” his eyes sparkled with a light I couldn’t quite place, before he said “We’ll see about that”

I had only just finished to get my friends off of my back for seeing me ditch class with Luke, having to endure questions and sly remarks all the way to my house - after having accepted Calum’s ride - when my mother decided to keep asking about the day. I brushed her off, feeling a little guilty only when understanding that she was worried. Strangely enough the events of the day had kept my mind quite busy and off of the fear. But now, a new question needed answers.

Maybe Luke was just crazy and messing around with me, maybe I was loosing my mind or maybe, just maybe, he was right. All I knew was that I needed answers and he was the only one who could give them to me. With a new sense of determination and the knowledge that as soon as I closed my eyes dreams would come to me, I laid down on my bed, trying to fall asleep.

The scene that presented itself to me wasn’t so distant like the others. No Shakespearian theaters, Victorian ball rooms, not even the reoccurring propaganda for The Great War or the bombs flying over the night sky followed by the deafening alarms. No, this felt more familiar to what I was used to seeing every day: an high school. The banner that hung up high above the school entrance read “Congratulations class of ‘84!″ So this was graduation day? Soon after I spotted what my gut told me were my friends, sitting on the stairs before the glass doors, I walked over to them: once again my own will faded away as I stood back and watched. Conversation flowed easily between the group, but I excused myself rather quickly to go look for someone, instantly knowing who. I didn’t need to wander through the deserted hallways for too long, following the soft melody that was echoing through the walls. It brought me to the music room, where I found Luke sitting on a desk strumming along on a guitar. The same he’d played for me today.

“I knew I’d find you here” I heard myself say, resting my shoulder against the door frame. He looked up and flashed a smile in my direction. My eyes wandered across his figure, lingering for a second too long on the way his white shirt hugged him perfectly. “Why aren’t you outside with the others?” he asked with a sly smile. I watched as I saw myself blush a little. “I was looking for you, why aren’t you?” he shrugged in response and came closer to me.

Resting his forehead against mine and his hands on my hips, he whispered softly “We need to get out of town before sunset” “Why do we always have to run?” I asked. “So that we can be together” came his answer. “I know” I murmured. “I just wish it was easier” shrugging, I let my eyes lock with his blue ones. He just planted a soft kiss on my lips, acknowledging the feeling. “We’re going to make it this time” he assured me. I simply nodded, but that didn’t ease the feeling of hopelessness that coursed through me. It was a carefree afternoon, the one I watched unfold between the group of freshly graduated teens, spent mostly at the fun fair organized by the school for the event. Still I felt it was too soon to say goodbye when I watched Luke drag me away from the group and to his car, before starting to drive.

We’d made it into the next town over by the time the sun had started to set, somehow the air in the car was thick and heavy - but not from the summer heat. “We should’ve been further away by now” he murmured as he sped up just a little. “It’s alright-” “No, it isn’t” he cut me off harshly. “Listen Luke, I’m sure this time is going to be different. They’re going to leave us alone-” “They never do, Beatrix!” he shouted angrily, leaving me speechless. I faced the other way, looking out of the car window, trying to hold back my tears. “I’m sorry for raising my voice” he said, sounding small. “I just can’t afford to lose you again” “You’ll never lose me” I wiped a fallen tear. “You quite literally can’t” I laughed softly, turning around to see the small smile that had formed on his lips.

It was night time when we stopped in the first motel on our way and settled into the room. The worry seemed to have dissipated just in the slightest, but all my senses were highly aware as I watched this version of me get into bed along with the golden haired boy. “I wish it had been me, that night” I heard myself whisper in the dark. “Don’t even say it” “But I do” I sat up. “I’ll always do” “You don’t know what you’re talking about” he sat up as well, looking at me. “Spending the rest of eternity like this, condemned to this life” he spat out the last word as if it’d been venom. “Watching you slip right out of my grasp just as we’re so close to happiness...” his voice broke and I saw myself looking for his hand and finally holding it in mine. “Then change me” I suggested, my voice faltering. “It’s not what you want” the harshness he was trying to mask was still prominent in his voice, putting a stop to the conversation. But before anyone could add anything, everything started going downhill as usual.

As a fight ensued between Luke and the mysterious man that had barged into the room, I tried to offer some aid but was immediately told to run, so I did. However, I didn’t make it as far as I had wished - only getting to the lower floor and hiding behind the ice dispenser. “You can’t hide forever!” sing-sung the voice of a woman, hearing her steps come closer and closer. I grabbed an empty bucket and tried to hit her with it as soon as she cocked her head around the corner, but she didn’t even falter and swiftly turned around, effectively kicking me to the ground. Almost unconscious from the pain I watched, powerless, as she pressed a knee down on my chest, leaving me breathless. “You’ll both never win” she murmured before stabbing me. I had seen this all before, how he managed to find me just mere seconds before the life would leave my body, how he crouched down to listen to me beg him to find me in another life and how he promised to. But I had never seen how he‘d stay there, near me, whispering he loved me again and again. I had never seen the despair of a man who had just lost everything so clear in his eyes.

I woke up trembling, damp from the sweat and panting. This could not just be a dream, this out of every other nightmare felt way too real to be just that. I noticed how, like the first time I started dreaming of him, my body still felt stiff and was still hurting from the injuries inflicted to me in the dream. And what was he going on about? What did I mean with change? I tried to calm down a little, sipping a bit of water from the glass on my nightstand, before deciding that this was entirely too strange to ignore. Somehow, someway I knew Luke and he knew me.

Not even thinking about how to find him, I put my shoes on and grabbed my jacket before sprinting out of my room and down the stairs, yelling a “Be back in a while!” to my mom and not even waiting for an answer as I slammed the front door shut behind me.

tags: @keithseabrook27

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halcyonnhood · 5 years ago

Text

Changes || l.h

Summary: Sarah struggles to come to terms with her feelings for Luke, Ashton's a good friend, and Luke is an understanding boyfriend.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: implied past abuse. lots of emotions. a few curse words.

Authors Note: More Luke and Sarah content! Here the first part if you missed it. This part may seem redundant, but that's okay. I think this ended up being a vent fic, so please just try to be nice to me. If you ever have any thoughts about the luke & sarah universe just send me an ask!

- - -

Love feels a lot like sunshine on the first day of spring.

Not that Sarah would know what love feels like. She doesn't. She doesn't even know if she loves Luke romantically, how could anyone be so sure of that? Luke seemed so certain of his feelings when he told her and she had been oblivious to it the entire time. All she knows is that she feels different whenever she's around the lanky man. She feels warmth from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, as if she were basking in comforting sunny rays. Everything seems so much brighter and prettier with him, it reminds her of seeing flowers for the first time after a long snowy winter. She doesn't know if that's what love feels like. She could just be happy to have Luke home.

If Sarah is honest, she's envious of Luke and all of his certainty. He's always been so sure of everything in life. Sure that he was born with music in his bloodstream and talent flowing from his fingertips. Sure that he was made for fame in LA. And he had sounded positively sure when he announced his love for her when he returned from tour. She hadn't been so lucky, in fact, she is the complete opposite and doubts everything. She hasn't quite found her passion in life, she often times regrets moving to LA, and she can't figure out all of these twisted emotions. She wishes it could come to her that easily.

“What're you thinking about?” Luke questions, breaking the girl out of her daze. He twirls more noodles around his fork and watches her with his kind blue eyes.

Sarah bites the inside of her cheek for a moment and decides to tell him the truth, “Love.”

The response nearly makes him choke on a mouthful of food and his coughing sends bits of liquid spewing everywhere. If Sarah hadn't grown accustomed to both him and the boys, she would've considered it gross. She also would've marked this as a failed first date, but it's Luke and it's nothing she hasn't seen before. The sight just makes her laugh as she hands him an extra napkin.

“Love,” Luke repeats. She swears his eyebrows might fly off his face if he raises them any higher, “Love, right. What about it?”

“It's just that you were so certain about it...And I don't do love, Luke.”

Luke's expression softens, “I know.”

“You know?” Sarah looks up at him in confusion.

“I know you don't do love. I know practically everything about you. Sarah, you've only ever told me you loved me once and that was just platonically. That's okay. It's only the first date, I shouldn't have been so quick to say that.”

The two sit in silence for a while, the slurping of noodles being the only noise between them. Sarah wants to be able to tell Luke that she loves him, because that's just what you say in response to someone who loves you. It's something you should say if you think you love someone. It's definitely what you say after you kiss the man that loves you, but the words never come out. Someday she hopes she'll be able to say it to the man and mean it with her entire heart and soul. All she knows currently is that she's enjoying the date and every time he smiles at her, she feels warmer.

“I don't do love, but I do other things. I bake sweets, I take care of petunia, and I write really nice music reviews on every app I own.” Sarah finally breaks the silence. “It isn't a lot-”

“But it's how you show that you love me,” Luke finishes for her.

Sarah lets out the breath she was holding, relieved that he understands, “Yeah. I know my fears are irrational, but I don't want not saying it to stop whatever this is,”

“I have to say, I've enjoyed this date and it'd be an awful shame if a second never happens.” Luke tells her. She can see the playful twinkle in his eyes, but the words ring truthful.

“That really would be disappointing,” She agrees. “I am looking forward to you beating traditional ramen. That's pretty hard to top,”

“Sounds like a challenge,”

/ / / /

Everything has to change. The seasons, the time, and emotions all go through changes. The summer turns to fall and long days turn to early sunsets. Sarah's tough exterior turns into a poorly supported shield. Which she isn't very happy about. She is not vulnerable. Or soft. She is consistent and strong. But she still finds herself lacking her normal demeanor whenever the blond curly headed demon is around.

Ashton invited Sarah over to his housewarming party, so naturally, she drives over with the tupperware full of cheesecake strapped safely in the passenger seat. The absurdity of buckling food into her car puts her in a giggly mood, but she didn't spend the night before baking it just to have it spilled onto the floorboards. She balances the gift bag on top of the containers and tries to carry it into the new home with steady hands. The task proves itself to be more difficult than she expected, because the bag covers her line of sight, and she doesn't know the layout of the house. She's barely into the foyer and she's already hit her hip on the sharp edge of a decorative side table, making her let out a hiss of obscenities at the pain. Ambling through hallways blindly is obviously not her strong suit, so when the bag is lifted out of her vision, she's happy to find Ashton in front of her. And to properly see the entrance to his house.

“You swear like a sailor, Sarah. You do know that, right?” Ashton asks her with a dimpled smile.

“Only because you have a table in your foyer!” Sarah huffs. Ashton laughs and turns to lead the two of them towards the kitchen, “Who puts tables in a foyer?”

“My interior decorator. It's been two minutes and you're already insulting my house, I'm wounded.” Ashton shakes his head in mock disappointment. He points towards the empty space on the counter next to the wings, so she can set down the containers.

After setting down the contents, she turns and takes in the sight of his new kitchen. She wishes she could find more to insult, but she really enjoys it, “It looks nice, Ash. I like the blue in here.”

“Me too, it feels appropriate. So, what'd you bring this time? Since you nearly fell protecting it,”

“I made two cheesecakes just for you! It took some research, but I made them coffee and cappuccino flavored,” Sarah tells him with an excited smile. “Just had to feed into the addiction,”

Ashton wraps her into a tight hug, “I think that might be the sweetest thing you've ever done. Thank you, Sarbear.”

“You're welcome. Just try it, loser. Since you're my biggest critic and all,”

Sarah leans against the counter while Ashton cuts himself a piece of each. She lets her eyes wander past the kitchen entryway to the living room where she can see some of their friends messing around. She can hear Luke's laugh before she sees him, even just the sound makes her heart race. When she does finally see him in the back of the room, curls bouncing as he laughs with Michael, it makes her heart clench. After multiple dates, lots of hanging out, and scattered kisses, she can still feel her heart melt into a puddle at the bottoms of her feet. And it frustrates her more than anything, because this is not her and this is not how she acts. Not towards Luke or anyone in her life. She can't figure out when she started looking at the man romantically, not in a best friend way or ‘just a couple dates’ way, but full blown “I dreamt I married him once” way. She does not do emotions, no matter what her stupid subconscious might say.

“It tastes delicious,” Ashton tells her. It breaks her daze and she focuses back on the black haired boy who gives her a sly smile.

Her eyebrows raise in shock. A compliment from her friend is rarely heard of when they like arguing so much, “Wait, really? I'm glad you like it,”

“Of course I do.” He rolls his eyes. “I know that look, by the way.”

“What look?”

“The one you have everytime you look at Luke. It's the same one he's given you for the past year. It's the same look that Michael gets when he thinks about Crystal,”

Sarah is immediately shaking her head, because she knows that look. She's seen Luke giving her that look, “No! There's no look. Besides, you guys have only been home for like three months, how can yo-”

“It's been a lot longer than that, he loves you and you know it. Sarah, I know you're this protected, cold, and unfeeling person, but stop denying this.”

“I'm not unfeeling, I just keep my emotions to myself. You learn to with five brothers at home.” She tells him softly, “I do love you and the boys.”

Ashton looks up from his plate in shock, “I love you too.”

“You all have been my best friends since I moved here. I've been up Luke's ass since day one and accepting that my love for him isn't platonic anymore is hard. All I've ever known is best friend Luke, not boyfriend Luke who is romantic and soft.”

“He can still be best friend Luke, but with a few upgrades. Admitting that you love people will not make the world implode. You'll be fine telling him,” Ashton encourages.

Sarah stares at Ashton silently. She's never realized that he could read her so well, but she's not sure what else she expected. He could see that she loves Luke and he can tell she's scared. She just wishes these things were as easy for her as it is for everyone else.

“And that's coming from the brother who wouldn't say that unless he trusted both of you completely.”

Ashton eats his piece of cheesecake in silence after that, the sounds of their friends filling the empty space. Deep down, Sarah knows that he's right. She knows that Luke loves her and she should tell him that she loves him too, but there's something terrifying about the unpredictability of emotions. She could tell him she loves him and there's the chance that his feelings could change. Or maybe he would realize he never loved her at all. If something ever did happen between them, could they ever go back to being best friends? Even worse than that, she hopes she never has to go back to being only friends.

What's the worst thing that could happen? Sarah knows that Luke loves her, he may have taken a step back from vocalizing it, but he shows it in other ways now. The worst thing is that she gets nervous and bails while trying to tell him. It wouldn't be so bad, to be able to show him her feelings for once. Right when she decides to tell him, Ashton bumps her shoulder and breaks her focus.

He holds his fork out to her with the last bite of cheesecake on it, “It's delicious, I swear. It's just rich and you're over here feeding me two slices.”

“You made the choice to try both,” She shakes her head, but still takes the fork to finish it. “Thank you though. I know how hard it is for you to compliment me.”

“Ashton complimented you? That's a miracle.” Luke comments. The unexpected sound of his voice makes Sarah jump, which brings out bubbling giggles from both men.

“Don't expect it too often. Anywho, I have a party to host. Catch up with you guys later!” Ashton winks at her, then leaves the two alone in the shiney new kitchen.

“Hey, honey.” Luke whispers as he pulls her into a tight embrace, “What were you guys talking about?”

Sarah snuggles into the warmth of his hug, “Just my absolutely amazing coffee flavored cheesecake and his poor choice of tables in foyers,”

“Sounds like an entertaining conversation,” He chuckles. He releases his grip from her and studies her playful expression.

"Oh, absolutely! You really missed out on that one. Just about as exciting as Ashton could get!”

"That's a shame, I must be so boring in comparison. I was just going to ask if you wanted to come over to my house after this.”

Sarah blinks up at his hopeful eyes and tries to keep the smile on her face, but she feels her brows furrowing some, “It'll be pretty late once we leave, Lu”

“I was asking if you'd like to stay the night with me.” Luke tells her softly.

His face has gone all serious and there's something in the sincerity of him inviting her over that just makes her crack right then and there. Sarah wants, scratch that, needs to tell him about the mess going on in her mind. He always knows how to organize the mess and it's not going anywhere until she finally admits what the issue is.

“I think we should talk,” She lets out a nervous sigh. By the look on his face, she can tell that's the wrong response to the invitation, but he recovers quickly and just gives her a tiny nod.

“Yeah, of course! Let's just get some privacy.”

Luke leads her to one of the rooms upstairs and explains that it's a guest room. He keeps glancing at their intertwined fingers and she knows that he must be thinking of the worst possible scenarios. She really wishes he wouldn't, she's just scared and needs to talk to both best friend Luke and boyfriend Luke. To accept that there's a difference in the two now, but all the same. And she needs to realize that no, the world will not implode if she tells him she loves him. It didn't when she told Ashton and it won't this time. The world will still be here continuing on with life and she'll be a bit more soft around the edges.

Except that Sarah has never learned to be soft or vulnerable. She grew up with five brothers and drunk parents. She was never given the chance to act like a proper little girl. It was always screaming, fighting, and blood. There were never any tears shed or lapses in her tough exterior, because the situation hadn't allowed for it. So, when she packed up and moved to LA she tried her best to push her own limits and act girly. She learned how to do makeup on her own and taught herself how to bake, without five boys waiting to make fun of her or parents to take everything away. She was trying to work on expressing herself when she met the boys and being surrounded by four boys meant that the exterior went right back up. They are her family here in LA and that means having three more brothers to protect herself from. She isn't sure she'll ever get the chance to be soft, but she wants to be. Especially for Luke.

Luke squeezes her hand lightly as the two sit on the bed. Sarah can't make out his expression or what he's thinking, but she still squeezes his fingers back in response.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Luke asks, breaking the silence. The question lingers heavily in the air and Sarah wishes a black hole would swallow her whole.

“Of course not,”

This time, Sarah can feel his warm blue eyes burning into her skin, “It feels like you're going to.”

“I'm not, I promise.” She tells him with furrowed eyebrows. She stares at the cream colored carpet beneath her feet and makes a note to tell Ashton that it was a bad choice. Light colored carpets are just asking for stains.

"I know we're still in the ‘new’ stage of this relationship and I'm really not trying to push you into being more serious. But you need to tell me things,” Luke lets go of her hand.

She watches as he paces the length of the room and struggles to piece together the words she needs to say. Everything is scattered in pieces, the words that Ashton told her, what she wants to say, and the stupid fucking carpets. But nothing is coming out, yet again.

“You never tell me things and I'm really trying to understand, but I can't when you used to tell me everything. If you can't talk to me and we're only three months in, we can't do this. Sarah, I am trying my best here and I don't know what else to do.”

"I told you everything because you were my best friend. And now you're my boyfriend and things feel different.” Sarah says quietly.

“I'm still your best friend,” Luke tells her. He squats in front of her sitting spot and strokes a thumb over her soft hand.

Sarah avoids his gaze, “I am used to being cold, it's just how I grew up. I had to. Then I met you and was able to express some things to you. Now that we're together there's a whole new set of emotions and I have never had to deal with them.”

“Are you trying to s-” Luke starts, but she cuts him off. He just pushes a strand of hair behind her ear and watches as she takes in a shaky breath.

“I love you, Luke.” Sarah tells him. And she waits for the world to implode, for the house to crumple on top of her, or for him to laugh. The only thing that happens is Luke looking up at her with glassy eyes as he kisses the backs of her hands.

“I love you too, Sarah.” He smiles, “Is that what all this was about?”

“I was scared that something bad would happen if I told you. That you would change your mind or you would laugh at me...I don't know, my family never reacted well to me talking about love and I didn't want a repeat of that.”

"Oh, honey,” Luke whispers and joins her on the bed so he can wrap his arms around her. “I would never ever do that to you.”

Sarah leans into the warmth, “I'm trying to get better at this. I just have to remember that you guys are different and emotions aren't weaknesses for you.”

"Never. You're human, you're supposed to be emotional. I know your family wasn't very nice to you, but you're here now. You have a loving boyfriend and three brothers who would do anything for you.” Luke explains softly.

Luke wipes the tears from her cheeks and places a kiss on her forehead. He remembers Sarah telling him stories about her family and how she wasn't too fond of them. She ended up in survival mode most of the time, but it never hit him that she was so cold because of it. He doesn't even think that she had realized that before tonight. She was just scared of emotions and didn't know what love felt like due to family. He hopes that she knows that they would never treat her badly.

“I'm sorry for crying all over you, I promise that it's not because of you,” Sarah giggles a bit, “I just love you so fucking much and I can say it,”

“You can say it,” Luke laughs with her, “I love you more than you'd ever realize.”

For once in Sarah's life, she feels completely at peace. She can do the whole “emotional” thing and nothing bad will happen, because all the bad stuff is in the past. It feels good to admit all the pent up stuff. And most importantly, loving luke DOES feel like sunshine on the first day of spring. Warm, fuzzy, and everything nice.

And she's certain that she's happy. So sure of it. She gets to be happy with the best person in her life and that's all she could ask for.

#5sos #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #michael clifford #calum hood #5 seconds of summer #5sos fanficton #5sos fanfic #luke hemmings blurbs #luke hemmings fanfiction #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings fanfic #5sos writing #be nice to me please #luke and sarah #5sos fluff #5sos blurb

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calpalirwin · 5 years ago

Text

Breathe

A/N: Inspired by a s***ton of song lyrics

And away, and away we go

~~~

One month.

That’s how long you had been crying yourself to sleep. That’s how long you had stared at his side of the bed, wishing he was still there. That’s how long you thought the pain was never going to fade. That’s how long you stared at your phone, fingers itching to call. But you knew it would only set back any progress you were making.

So, your phone stayed silent, your fingers stayed itchy, your eyes stayed red, your pillowcase stayed stained with your tears, his side stayed empty, and the pain stayed just as painful as ever.

One month.

One month until it didn’t hurt to breathe.

Coincidentally, one month was also how long it took until he couldn’t breathe himself. Almost like your pain had finally passed on to him.

~~~

“Hey, it’s Ash,” your voicemail played and you stomach twisted at the voice. “I… uh… your coffee cup… the lipstick… it’s faded… I know you didn’t always wear lipstick because you said I smeared it too much for you to be bothered… but uh… god, it was a work of art when you could be bothered.”

You stared at your phone, finger hovering over the delete button. You took a breath to steady yourself. You had finally moved on from utterly heartbroken to trying to survive. And now his voice was going to drag you right back down again. You wanted to be angry. But, something about the way his voice cracked, like he was crying himself, kept you from deleting the voicemail. Instead, you turned your phone over and went about your day.

~~~

“I wasn’t even trying to do anything other than have a night out with the guys. And then you were there. And then I was doing anything I could to catch your attention. You took my breath away that night. You still do.”

~~~

“Do you remember when I took you to San Francisco? God, we had it right, didn’t we? I can still smell the perfume you were wearing. That sweet little scent that you sprayed on yourself in that shop. I swear my shirt smelled like that perfume for weeks.”

~~~

“I don’t dance… I wasn’t ever really much of a dancer, but you always wanted to. Didn’t matter where. God, the way you looked in parking lots as our feet moved over the painted white lines. My feet don’t dance like they did with you.”

~~~

“What we had was real, right? God, I wish had amnesia because I’m not fine at all.”

Your jaw tightened as you listened. If only he knew you had asked yourself the same question. If he wasn’t fine, why had he left you so easy? The nerve of this guy!

~~~

“Sorry about my last message. That wasn’t fair of me to assume this hasn’t been hard for you. But, God, have you tried getting over you?”

~~~

“Does he know that you hate drinking? Does he shave before he kisses you? Does he let you miss me or does he say something funny or clever to take your mind off it? I hope he does. I hope he realizes that he has the greatest girl laying on his chest. But, please… lie to me and say it isn’t true. Tell me there isn’t someone else.”

~~~

One month.

That’s how long you had watched your phone ring. That’s how long you had listened to his messages, his voice broken and stone-cold sober.

That’s how long you waited until you finally picked up the phone the next time it rang.

“What?” you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose. “What confession do you have tonight? And why? Why now? I’m not a booty call, Ashton! I’m not someone you can call every time you get lonely. I have more self-respect than that!”

“Uh.. Y/N? It’s Cal…” Calum’s voice sounded over the line.

You pulled your phone back to check the caller ID. “Oh, sorry.”

“Yeah,” the man rushed past your apology. “Look, I’m sorry to do this, but can you get down here? It’s Ash.”

“Cal… Ash is…”

“The last person you want to see, I know. But, I’m desperate Y/N. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

You sighed. “Where are you guys?”

~~~

“Y/N!” Calum exclaimed in relief when you made your way into the bar.

“Where is he?” you said shortly.

“Over here,” Calum said, leading you to a very depressed looking Ashton sitting by himself in a booth. “Hey, mate, look who’s here.”

Ashton’s hazel eyes looked up from his glass to find you standing there. He would’ve smiled, but it hurt to move.

You looked at the glass in front of Ashton, and glared at Calum. “God damn it, Cal! You promised me!” you scolded the man. When Ashton called things off 2 months ago, you made Calum swear that Ashton would stay sober.

“Would you relax? It’s Coke, damn…” Calum said, not bothering to hide his irritation at your misplaced anger.

“Can’t get drunk anyways,” Ashton deadpanned. “Can’t get over you that way.”

“I, on the other hand, can,” Calum forced a grin. “I’ll be over at the bar if you need me,” he told you, resting a large hand briefly on your small shoulder before walking off.

You sighed and slid into the booth with Ashton. Now was your chance to get everything off your chest. To put Ashton Irwin in his place for breaking your heart. As you opened your mouth, prepared to unleash holy hell on this man, a soft “I’m sorry,” reached your ears, Ashton’s lips barely moving.

“What?” you asked, leaning in closer to hear better.

“I’m sorry… I… I didn’t know what I was thinking… I just knew I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Losing you.”

“So, you thought pushing me away was the answer?” you scoffed.

“I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Ashton!” you yelled, clenching your fists as a tear slid down your cheek. “God damn it. Do you know what you did to me?” you hissed. “I missed work because I couldn’t drag myself out of bed. I thought I was going to go blind from crying in the dark for so long. God, I couldn’t fuckin breathe!” You hastily wiped at your eyes. “And when I finally got to a point where I thought I could survive again, you started leaving me those damned voicemails! But sure… you’re sorry. Cuz that’s the magic phrase to fix 2 months of shit.”

He stared at you, listening to you unleash your fury. When you stopped he opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“If you say you’re sorry, I swear I’ll slug you,” you growled, glaring at the man across from you. God, did he have to look so sad?!

He closed his mouth and just stared.

“Well…? Say something, damn it!”

“I’m sorry.”

In a blind rage, you swiped his glass of Coke off the table, getting a small satisfaction of the look of the shock that crossed Ashton’s features and the shattering of glass. “What did I just fuckin say?”

“But, I am, okay? And I know that doesn’t fix anything, but it doesn’t make me less sorry. I was doing what I thought was best for you, okay?”

“What you thought was best for me? Ashton, you don’t get to make that choice for me!”

“I know, and I’m so-”

“Ashton Fletcher…” you growled, daring him to say he was sorry again.

His hands went up defensively. “I know, okay?”

“You didn’t even give me a chance…” you said sadly, the fight leaving you “You just gave up. On me. On us. Over in one phone call like it never mattered.”

“I know. I’m the stupid one who ended it, and now I’m stupid one regretting it. But, you’ve clearly moved on. And I have to live with that mistake. Go home, Y/N. I’ll stop calling.”

“Moved on?” you asked. “You think I moved on?”

“Well yeah. I’ve seen the stories.”

The stories… of course. “You mean the stories that smeared my name? The stories that claimed you broke up with me because I was using you?”

“The stories that showed you out with someone else not even a week later?” he shot back, tired of being on the defensive. “The stories that got brought up in interview after interview that I then spent more time defending you than getting interviewed?”

“Oh, boo fuckin hoo! I’m Ashton Irwin! I do 3 interviews between tour dates! I want to brag about my life, but they keep bringing up my ex who’s heart I ripped out without a second thought!” you mocked.

“So, you don’t deny it.”

“Deny what?!”

“The guy?”

“What guy?!”

“From the STORIES!” he roared, his hazel eyes flashing dangerously. “God, Y/N, it wasn’t even a week later…”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s a good thing you’re famous and pretty. Honestly, is Luke borrowing the one collective brain cell you guys have? He’s my friend, Ash. A friend you actually met along with his wife, who was conveniently cropped out of the pictures.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah… God, do you really think I would do that you?”

“So, you haven’t…?”

“Moved on? Gotten over you? No, Ash, I haven’t. I can’t. And more than that, I don’t want to.”

“Why? I broke your heart, Y/N...”

“Because I still love you. Because I’ll let you ruin my life over and over again if it means I get to keep you for just a second longer. Because I need you more than I’ve ever needed anything in my entire life. Because even though you broke my heart, I’m desperately wishing you’ll put it back together.”

“Can I have a second chance? I don’t deserve one. I know that. But, please? I’ll get it right this time. I promise.”

Instead of answering him, you stood up. He dropped his gaze to hide his hurt, a sigh escaping his lips. If he was honest, he was surprised that you hadn’t stormed off earlier. He didn’t deserve this conversation, let alone a second chance.

So, when your hands wrapped around his neck, he had just enough time to give you a surprised look before your lips were on his. He quickly got over his surprise and melted into you, his arms snaking around your back to pull you closer to him.

When he had gone out earlier that night, Ashton never would have dreamed that he’d end up with you straddled on his lap, lips locked together. But, he was glad it was happening, and he was never coming up for air.

#breathe #ashton irwin #ashton blurb #5SOS #galcal irwin

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mayve-hems · 5 years ago

Text

Wrapped Around Your Finger | Michael Clifford

Type: IMAGINE | ONE SHOT | MULTI CHAPTER

Summary: After hearing her brother gossip that Michael is wrapped around her finger, Maverly Hemmings decides it’s time that she knows if he really is wrapped around her finger.

Word Count: 5.0k

Note: If you would like to request a one shot / imagine / story prompt then I am accepting requests currently and I would love to take them! This has also not been proof read, just editing for spelling errors. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Cussing, smoking, implied smut

Michael Clifford’s fingers dug into the plastic of his red XBOX controller as he twisted the joystick around to face his best friend's characters. He dug a pickaxe into Luke’s character, forcing Luke to respawn without any elements he had in his Minecraft inventory. Michael let out a spurt of laughter into his microphone, letting all of his friends hear him.

“Sucks to be you now, doesn’t it?” Michael asks Luke. Just an hour before Michael went on a homicidal mission to destroy Luke, Luke accidentally shoved Michael off the edge of a cliff and onto stone blocks that ended Michael’s Minecraft life. “Hemmings!” Michael screamed into the microphone. Ashton winced from Michael’s loud voice, regretting turning the volume of his headset up high to hear Luke’s whispering.

“Shut up, Clifford!” Luke whispered into his microphone. Luke’s least favorite -and favorite- siblings lives in the room right next to his. Maverly and Luke agreed that after midnight, Luke wouldn’t scream during video games, and Maverly wouldn’t wake him up in six hours with a bucket of cold water. Maverly also wouldn’t be loud if she was doing something like playing video games -Maverly pretends to be Jack Hemmings on a lot of video games- or listening to music. After Ben and Jack graduated, the twin Hemmings were left to disagree with each other. Luke took his brothers’ room, and Maverly was finally by herself. “Don’t make me get May in here to kill you a thousand times over.”

Michael laughed. “It’s Minecraft, bro, now Call Of Duty.”

“Suck my dick, Clifford,”

“Hey!” Ashton whined. He placed a few more blocks of dirt down into his optical illusion island. He created the realm by himself for when he had been struck with boredom and the inability to actually do homework. Michael logged onto Ashton’s account a few weeks ago and discovered the replication of H.H. Homes Murder Castle and the not-so optical illusion he was attempting to create. Michael whined until Ashton shared it with everybody. “Don’t cuss.”

“Fuck off, Irwin,” whispered Luke.

Michael finished his arrangement of a villager hotel made for absolutely nobody, with purple stained-glass windows. His Minecraft character ran away from the hotel before turning around to make sure he’d moved enough so he could see the entire building on his TV. White quartz outlined the outside thirds of the hotel while orange cement outlines the floors of the middle. Three-by-three windows are the walls for each of the eighteen apartments, showing the single red bed next to a furnace. Michael made every single floor grey, except for the lobby of the hotel. He made the lobby floors oak wood with a jungle wood-plank counter.

“Okay bet my dudes,” Michael says, setting his controller down after viewing the hotel. He’s satisfied with how it currently looks. “I think I’m going to go to sleep.”

“That’s gay,” replied Calum. “It’s barely two, Pussy,”

“Nah, dude,” Luke interjected. “I should probably sleep too. When May falls asleep early, she wakes up early. I’m not fond of having soaking wet clothes.”

“Pussy,” Calum muttered.

“Same,” Ashton paused his game, already starting to log off. “I want a cheese toasty.”

Calum groaned. “I hate all of you wimps.”

They all said their goodbyes and insults before logging off, leaving Calum playing Minecraft by himself in his own realm. Michael opened the sheets of his bed, ready to fall in between the duvet and mattress. Luke shut off his TV and attempted to navigate his way through his bedroom in the dark. He stumbled onto his bed, banging it against the wall. He’ll hear about that from Maverly in the morning. Ashton snuck into his kitchen and began to make one of the best cheese toasties he’s ever tried.

Michael looked through memes on his phone before falling asleep. He stumbled upon ones from his favorite band and let out little spurts of laughter at the inside jokes. He swept to the next meme, ready to laugh again. Tapping against the window above his bed distracted him from reading the meme. The orange-haired teenager glanced at his window, seeing nothing wrong, before looking back at his phone.

Tap . . . tap . . . tap.

He looked at the window again to see a small rock striking the glass and bouncing back to its origin. Michael waited for another to hit the window, and when it did he opened the frame to stare out at the culprit. A curly-haired girl with a leather jacket and ripped skinny jeans was holding a bunch of pebbles in the palm of her hand. Without thinking, she pitched another one at the window, almost hitting Michael in the face. He was suddenly wishing she wasn’t the pitcher of their softball team.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Michael called out to the golden-haired beauty. She resembled her brothers a lot in personality and looks except in her own little way. She was the youngest of the Hemmings kids, but she knew how to hold herself as if she were the oldest. Ben and Maverly compete for control . . . a lot.

“You coming down or what?” Maverly asked through a snicker. She spoke as though it was obvious; I’m throwing rocks at your window so you’ll come down and visit me. What else would I be doing? In certain angles, you could see how she also resembled her mum more than her brothers. “Hello? Mike?”

“Luke said you’re sleeping,”

“And you say you’re not a nerd,”

“I’m not a nerd!” Michael protested.

Maverly reached into her pocket for a cigarette. The boys aren’t stupid -it’s completely obvious that Maverly’s breath smells like cigarettes every so often- but they keep the secret from her family. In return for keeping the secret, she does assignments for them that they’ll fail otherwise. “You were just playing Minecraft with my brother for eight hours straight,” She stuck the butt of the cigarette between her lips and flipped open the Zippo lighter. She lit the end of the stick before sucking in the smoked and pulling the cigarette out of her mouth. “I can leave if you want me too. Just thought we could do something fun tonight.”

Michael considers her offer for a moment. “I’ll be down in a second.” Michael jumped into a pair of jeans off his bedroom floor along with a tank top he ripped out of his dresser. He slipped into sneakers and a snapback before bolting down the stairs and out the back door. Maverly is flicking ash off the cigarette when Michael reaches her. “What do you want to do?”

“Go to the beach?”

“You literally called me out of the house at two AM . . .” Michael pinched the bridge of his nose. “. . . to go to the beach?”

Maverly rolled her eyes. “If you don’t want to go then you don’t have to,” She put the cigarette back into her mouth for another drag. She offered it to Michael, the one of the group that’s never smoked anything before, and he accepted it. The blonde watched her elder friend figure out how to smoke. He took a deep breath of the smoke before sporadically coughing up smoke. Maverly laughed. “Your decision. Take it or leave it.”

The group jokes that Maverly has Micahel wrapped around her dainty finger, which is absolutely true. Michael denies his crush on the Hemmings girl and claims that they’re just friends. Several times, Michael has dropped whatever task he was working on just to hang out with Luke’s twin. Though their hangouts only lasted a few hours in Luke’s basement with a game of Guitar Hero and a bowl of popcorn, he’d still do anything Maverly wanted to. “Let’s go,”

Maverly went to take back her cigarette but Michael flinched away. He shoved the end back into his mouth and took in a deep breath. Maverly laughed and pulled another out of her pocket. “You’re so innocent.” Maverly giggled. “I’m going to end up corrupting you, Clifford, and your mum is going to hate me.”

“Babe,” Michael said before taking a drag off a cigarette and leading Maverly to the fence gate. The Clifford’s don’t live too far from the Santa Cruz boardwalk and beach -just an hour drive- which has prompted a bunch of midnight beach visits from Michael, his family, and his best friends. It’s always been normal for Maverly and Mali-Koa to tag along with their brothers to the beach. Michael’s never gone with just Maverly to the beach before. “You’re not going to corrupt me, don’t worry.”

“Whatever you ‘wanna believe, Clifford,” Maverly chewed on her lip piercing. Maverly and Luke were at Calum’s house when he prompted a tattoo idea to his mum. A beautiful one- his sister's name tattooed on his arm. Maverly sketched a design for Calum to go off of, and Joy Hood signed the document for teenagers that wanted to get tattoos. Maverly pulled her wallet out of her pocket while Calum was receiving the needles ink and asked for a lip piercing. Luke got one too. Liz Hemmings had a heart attack. “That eyebrow piercing-”

“-Is because Luke has a lip piercing and Cal ‘n’ Ash have tattoos,” Michael finished. He took another drag of his cigarette. Maverly stopped walking towards her Jeep and turned to her friend. “What?” Maverly slapped a tattooed area on Michael’s arm. Michael looked down at his now-reddening arm to see what her problem was. He understood that she meant the ink underneath his skin. “Shut up.”

Maverly giggled.

“Luke is such a pussy,” Michael dropped the rest of his cigarette on the ground and crushed it with his foot. “His brothers and friends have tattoos. Hell, his own younger twin has a damn tattoo and he still won’t get one.”

Maverly shrugged. Underneath her leather jacket, the one that matches her older brothers’, she has an entire sleeve of tattoos sitting on her skin from her wrist to her shoulder. A beautiful feather with her brothers signatures in chronological order starting from the stem to the middle point where blue baby footprints start walking to the end. Above the rainbow-shaded feather is the quote ‘Die with memories, not dreams’ delicately written in Liz’s handwriting. The chain of a pocket watch holds onto the top of the feather and wraps all the way around her wrist once then loosely wrapped around her forearm once until it’s right below her elbow. An exact replica of Andrews’ old pocket watch, down to his full name engraved on the glass. The arrows point to the time Maverly was born. Between the feather and the pocket watch sits a sunflower mixed halfway with a yellow rose; in the middle of both flowers are bother of her great-grandmother and great-grandfathers signatures. That whole configuration was her first-ever tattoo; she sat still for several hours just for that.

“Why doesn’t he just get a tattoo with your parents or literally anyone?” Michael asked. “You have a twin tattoo already, he just needs to match it.”

Liz and Andrew got small tattoos to replicate their youngest daughter. Liz got the feather Maverly has, along with all of her kids' signatures in chronological order with six blue baby feet and a single pink pair walking towards the end of the. Hers was shaded with black instead of a rainbow, though. Andrew got the pocket watch wrapping around his arm as a father-daughter tattoo just like Liz and Maverly had already done. Everyone hypothesizes that Luke’s just afraid of needles.

“He’s a pansy, my friend,” Maverly unlocked her Jeep and reached for the drivers' side door. She hopped in and pressed the clutch to the floor. The key turned in the ignition to which Maverly changed the gear to reverse. She waited for Michael to put on his seatbelt before pulling out of his driveway. Maverly enjoys having a manual transmission Jeep Wrangler; Luke is less likely to drive it. She pointed to the fraction on her wrist bone for Michael to see. “He just has to get one-half tattooed right there and the twin tattoo would be finished. But no!”

“I’m starving,” Maverly complains, gripping her steering wheel until her knuckles turn white. Their hour-long drive has been delayed almost another hour due to road construction. You’d think the highways wouldn’t be as busy at literally four-in-the-morning but Maverly has been stopped in the same spot for roughly fifteen minutes. “Michael!” the tall girl screams, startling her passenger.

He stirs from his sleep and rubs his eyes. “Pizza.”

“There won’t be a pizza place open for like three more hours,” Maverly realized she’ll be stopped for a while longer so she shoves the gear shift in neutral and lets the vehicle idol while she searches up stores around their current area. Nothing seems interesting. She notices a Walmart sitting near the boardwalk. They’ll last a while longer and stock up with food there. “I’m bored.”

“I’m tired,”

Maverly brushes hair out of her face. She’s not tired- she’s wide awake and kicking. Absentmindedly she outlines the four skull rocker hands at the top of her wrist. The fourth one is shaded pink, while the others have no color at all. Her older brothers got theirs shaded in with blue for the place they took in the chronological sibling order; except for bare-skinned Luke.

Her parents agreed that the only way they would sign for a tattoo is if it has meaning; otherwise, she has to wait until she is of legal age to get anything else. As a result of that rule, she’s filled her entire arm with tattoos honoring her family; from Luke’s favorite guitar with the sound waves of ‘I’ll go with you’ substituted for the frets, to a red outline of Ben, Jack, Luke, and Maverly standing in order when they were younger shifted a little bit above an outline of them standing together at Ben’s graduation in the same order. One of her favorite tattoos has to be a replica of her Grandma’s recorder player with flowers and planets shooting out of the brass horn. Maverly cried when that one was finished.

“Michael, wake up,” Maverly demanded. Michael let out a loud groan, sitting up complete to stare at the piled-up road ahead. “What’s your favorite color?”

The orange-haired boy wanted to smack the shit out of Maverly for asking him such a question instead of letting him sleep. “Red,” Michael bit. Maverly chewed on her lip ring with a smirk. She thought it was red, and boy was she correct. “What about you, Maverly Stella What’s your favorite fucking color?”

“Orange,” Maverly answered before shoving the gear shift into first gear. The line in the construction zone was starting to move. Maverly looked at Michael’s orange hair with a smile; he didn’t know that orange has always been her favorite color but she admired the bright color sitting on top of the blonde strands. A little part of her had hoped that it was orange because of her. “What’s a weird fact about yourself?”

Michael sighed before rubbing his face with his large hands. His fingers rubbed his eyes until he began seeing swirling colors in his eyesight. “My middle name is Gordon. Yo-”

“-Give me something that’s actually weird.”

“Um . . .” Michael thought aloud. “There’s this hella’ cute girl I know and she would never like me back. That’s weird. What’s a weird fact about you?”

“There aren’t any weird facts about me, Gor, I’m a normal human being,”

Michael let out strings of laughter. He could barely contain the giggles erupting from his body. “You’re not weird? Your name is Maverly, while you have brothers named Luke, Ben, and Jack.”

“Dad joked that Luke and I would be twins to Mom and said she’d name one Maverly if we were,”

“Your arms are covered in tattoos!”

“They all have a specific meaning.”

“You smoke cigarettes and nobody in your family knows!”

“Ashton’s my supplier and you guys keep secrets.”

“You’re fucking beautiful and you don’t have a boyfriend!”

Maverly giggled a little bit. A blush was beginning to creep across her cheeks, but at night illuminated by only dim headlights, Michael would never see. “I’m saving myself for someone certain.”

“You drew up all of your tattoos!”

“Natural talent in drawing.”

“You have an excuse for everything, don’t you?” Michael asked. He crossed his arms and looked out the window. He was no longer feeling tired. Maverly sped the Jeep up, leaving the construction zone and going into an area where she could easily speed. “How do you drive this thing anyways?”

Maverly moved her hand from the gearshift the grab Michaels. His hand felt warm from her palm as she set it over the stick. “Just wait,” she sped up a little bit before hearing the engines correct pitch for turning over, then released the gas pedal and stuck the clutch to the floor. She gripped Michael’s hand and changed from third gear to fourth. Her feet switched positions with the clutch returned and the gas pedal back down. She replicated the same thing to put the Jeep in fifth gear, then she released Michael’s rugged hand. “It’s easy. You just have to hear it and remember.”

Michael stared out the window again. He hated how his hand felt underneath hers- rather he hated that he liked being able to touch her hand. Luke’s had a strict No Touching My Sister rule for the boys. That doesn’t stop Maverly cuddling Calum or Ashton. They’re like her brothers also. “You’ve been driving for long enough that you remember.”

“That’s the point,” Maverly snickered. “So. I was thinking we could get something at like Walmart or whatever. You hungry?”

“How the fuck do you pick out a cantaloupe?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maverly you’re supposed to know this shit. Which cantaloupe is the best?”

“I don’t know, Michael!”

“Fuck it. I’ll just get this one. Do you have a knife?”

“No?”

“Then get one!”

Maverly dug a brand new metal spoon into the meat of her half of the cantaloupe. She pulled the melon away from the skin and shoved the huge bite into her mouth. “This is good, you picked out a good one.” the blonde laughed.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he dug into the other half. “Just eat your stupid cantaloupe.” the juice from the melon dripped down his face from his first bite. He wiped it away with the collar of his shirt. “It’s getting everywhere.”

“Michael, we’re at the beach. You’re going to get some type of wet no matter what,” Michael stopped chewing to stare at his younger friend. Maverly broke her stare on the dusk sunrise to see why the boy was silent. Michael blinked a few times, trying to insinuate a sexual innuendo that Maverly barely understood for a few moments. “I mean that works too, but-”

“May, why are we here?” Michael set his spoon into the carved out center inside the melon. “Not just wanting to go to the beach at literally two AM. Why are we here?”

Maverly laughed. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why?” Michael pleaded. “I just want to know why you didn’t choose your brother or I don’t know . . . Calum?”

“If you didn’t want to come then you didn’t have to, Mike,” Maverly shoveled more melon into her mouth. Her belly was empty and running on a McDonald's coffee she bought herself before entering Santa Cruz. “I would have left you alone and bothered them.”

“It’s not that,” Michael set the round end of the melon into the sand. His hands grabbed her face so she’d look at him and understand that this was a real question of his. Why did Maverly choose Michael over the ones closest to her? “I wanted to come. But why did you chose me.”

“I still can’t tell you that,” Maverly stared at Michael’s face, feeling herself fall a little bit more in love with him. Without looking at her end of the cantaloupe, she still carved out a piece with the spoon and stuck it into her mouth. “That’s confidential.”

“That makes it sound like you’re going to kill me, May,”

“I’m not going to kill you.”

It’s no secret to Luke that Michael is absolutely smitten over the youngest Hemmings; the rest of their friend group always torments Michael that he’s wrapped around Maverly’s skinny little finger. Ashton jokes that hidden in one of Maverly’s tattoos is a meaning for Michael and her hidden crush on him, but he only says things like that to Maverly. The first time that was said, Maverly was laying next to Ashton, helping build his H.H. Homes Murder Castle. Maverly set TNT off inside of the castle in frustration towards Ashton and destroyed almost the whole outline. Even though he was angry, Ashton understood that Maverly fancied his younger friend and that she did not want to talk about it. Calum laughed when he realized the Clemmings ship was practically in love with each other and did absolutely nothing to push them together.

“Then why are we here!” Michael screamed.

“I want to go swimming,” Maverly shrugged. She forced herself away from Michael so she could see the sunrise again. Maverly Hemmings is known for appreciating nature and basic artistic masterpieces. She’s amazing at makeup. She’d be wearing a full face of makeup if she didn’t feel comfortable around Michael. She wants to paint the sky onto a piece of paper and replicate it into an eyeshadow look for somebody, but she knows that nobody would appreciate it. “I thought you’d like to go swimming with me.”

“It’s five.”

“And?”

“We could have swum in your backyard.”

“That’s not the same.” Maverly set her melon down into the sand like Michael’s. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to taste the cantaloupe on his lips and the cherry chapstick he denies using. The blonde wants to run her fingers through orange strands of hair and the stroke of his calloused thumbs across her cheekbones.

“Yes, it is,” Michael stared back at Maverly. “Why did you bring me out here?”

“I wanted to swim,” Maverly stated again, but slower.

“Why didn’t you tell me to grab something to swim in then?”

Maverly paused to think up a reason. It took her over a minute. “I didn’t think about that.”

“Yes, you did,”

“No, I didn’t,”

“I bet you ten dollars that you’re wearing a swimming suit under your jacket,”

A blush made itself apparent on her face. She’s not wearing a swimming suit under the jacket; she’s not wearing anything underneath her clothes beside a red bra with matching panties. “Then fork up the money, Clifford.”

“Prove it to me then,” Michael said with complete seriousness. He was almost certain that she had planned on embarrassing Michael by being the only one in the water, or if he wanted to swim he had to skinny dip or wear soaking-wet underwear all the way home. Of course, Maverly Hemmings would be the one to do that to him. He can’t believe that he’s practically fallen for her thousand times over. “Prove it to me that you’re not dressed to swim in the ocean and try to embarrass me.”

Maverly blushed even harder. “You don’t want me to prove it to you.”

“Yes, I do,” Michael was angry. His mind had completely convinced him that he was just going to be embarrassed. If so, he had a few friends in Santa Cruz that would take him home. Or, he’d wake up Calum or Ashton and request that they drive to the boardwalk. Maybe he should just be a dick and wake up Luke, spoil the news that his perfect little sister snuck out and drove two hours to embarrass him.

“One-hundred percent sure?” Maverly asked. “No doubt that you want me to prove to you?”

“One-hundred,” Michael enunciated. “Prove to me that you’re not just a bitch.”

Maverly swallowed. She tugged at the zipper of her leather jacket with shaking hands. Slowly, if fell down the track to Maverly’s jean button. She was sweating, a result of a black leather jacket and a humid beach, so her palms and fingertips felt slick when she pulled the zipper completely away from the attaching side. She opened the jacket and felt thankful the beach was empty besides them. The skinny girl shrugged the heater off her shoulders and let it fall into the sand. Like it was just something she normally did, her hand reached for the melon to take another bite.

“I swear I didn’t think about that,”

Michael’s eyes were sitting on her boobs in the red bra. Two inches of lace wrapped around the bottom of the bra and covered a tattoo Michael didn’t realize she had. He couldn’t stop staring at her not-so flat chest.

“If I knew you fetishized boobs so much, I would’ve worn actual lingerie,”

“I’m not- I don’t- I . . .” Michael felt the smallest bit of constriction in his pants. He forced his eyes to the dark sky to ignore the topless girl in front of him. “Again, why are we here?”

“I can’t tell you,”

“Why can’t you tell me?!”

“Because I was seeing if something Luke said was true!” Maverly screamed. She turned to grab her jacket from the sand and put it on as quickly as she could. She wasn’t feeling confident enough to show her bare torso anymore.

“What did Luke say?”

"Nothing," Maverly dismissed. She waved her hand like it was the end of the conversation and fished her keys out of her pocket. "Let's go."

"You drug me out here, Maverly Hemmings!" Michael screamed. "I said I would go with you to Santa Cruz and two AM, you woke me up to share fun facts, I helped you pick out a cantaloupe, I bought you cigarettes with my ID, I- I am sitting in the sand with you at five AM after walking around Walmart and testing how soft pillows can fucking be!"

"I'm sorry!" Maverly cried. "I . . . I shouldn't have brought you out here and- and I just thought-!"

"-What did you think, Maverly?"

"Would you shut up and let me talk!" Maverly yelled. She didn't have an excuse, just that she wanted to see if Michael really liked her. "Would you like to know the real reason I drug you all the way out here?"

"Gladly!"

Maverly grabbed a handful of his shirt to bring them together and she shoved her lips to his. It felt like lightbulbs burst around them with such power that their ears were left ringing in the darkness of Santa Cruz. It felt like sparks were fusing their lips. It felt like when you bite into sweet fruit. It felt like the sun after a long rainy day. It felt like electricity flowing through every vein and nerve. Maverly was the first to pull away and rest her head against Michael's with her fingertips dancing through small strands of hair.

"Luke told you guys how you're practically wrapped around my finger," Maverly whispered. Michael pressed his thumb to the corner of her lips. "Michael Clifford, I've loved you for years and . . . I just thought that-"

"You're stupid." Michael laughed before kissing the girl he loved again. His hands ran their course on the curvature of her body, leaving tingles over every area they touched. He released her lips from his and watched how she reacted. She smiled and seemed relaxed as if she just smoked. But she didn't- it was just the effect that Michael had on her. "If anybody asks," Michael whispered. "I threw rocks at your window instead of the other way around."

"Wake up!" Maverly screamed before pouring a bucket of ice water on her sleeping twin brother. Michael laughed from the open doorway of Luke's room as Luke jumped up from his bed in just a pair of blue boxers, confused and whipping around to face Maverly. "Hi, I love you but-"

Through shivers, Luke lifted Maverly in a bridal style and exited his room. He didn't say a word; just walked past Michael and into the hallway. Michael followed behind, wondering if Luke even realized he was there.

"Luke?" Liz asked. Luke ignored his mother and continued towards the open balcony.

He's had enough of being woken up with water in a bucket and having to change his sheets and dry his mattress! He's tired of being freezing and having to sit in a bathtub of boiling water just moments from waking. He's tired of it. He stood on the balcony and held his little sister close.

"Luke, no!" Maverly pleaded, not wanting to be thrown in the pool. She had just showered and put on clean clothes! She didn't want to repeat the same process!

After a make-out session with Michael on the Santa Cruz sand, they skinny-dipped in the ocean like it was something normal. Michael slept on the way back to his house but only grabbed clean clothes from his bedroom. Michael and Maverly managed to have a -quiet- shower together with lots of making out and 'Stop looking at my boobs, Maverly Hemmings!' They dressed, took a few-hour nap, and thought of the best way to wake up Luke. Maverly knew she had to go with what she normally did.

Luke swung his sister over the railing of the balcony, and she landed in the pool. A belly-flop hurt her stomach but she still surfaced infuriated with her brother. Luke clapped his hands together as if removing dirt and started back into the house.

"Go help your girlfriend," Luke demanded tiredly to Michael.

"How do you . . ?" Michael trailed off to his friend.

"The hoodie, dumbass," Luke answered.

Michael looked over the railing at his girlfriend going up the ladder of the pool. Maverly peeled the 'CLIFFORD 95' hoodie off her body and cursed at Luke. "Whoops.”

Request here

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pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles · 6 years ago

Text

Colour Me In Part 3

“Oh that is not good,” Michael cracked up and Calum just glared at him.

“Will you shut up unless you're going to help,” he grumbled fiddling with his bass. Lunch with Eliza had been amazing, and he'd really felt like he was starting to get somewhere with this girl. Kevin's sudden appearance at lunch had him worried.

“Maybe it's better to get it all out now,” Michael tried to sound reassuring.

“Get what out now?” Luke asked, entering the room trailed by Ashton.

“His new girl's best friend is gonna tattle on him before he gets a chance to get it,” Michael told them.

“Wait I thought you weren't talking to Nat?” Luke asked slightly confused.

“No, dummy, the deaf girl, Eliza.” Ashton poked Luke in the side to get him out of his way. “I thought you guys were having lunch today?”

“We did,” Calum told him, “but her closest guy friend, Kevin,” Cal made a face when he said the name, “came out of nowhere and told her I looked familiar. So when I ask her where he works she says he's a model and works the door at Emerald City.”

The guys laugh but Calum cuts them off “and The Chelsea,” the guys stopped laughing, “and Lucky's,” Calum finished.

“Ooooh that fucking sucks dude,” Luke sat down facing him.

“Of all places though, I don't think there's a girl in that bar that hasn't seen your dick at some point,” Ashton laughed.

“You're one to fucking talk,” Calum huffed, “you're worse than me. Didn't you have Cass over last weekend?”

“I did actually, she says hi by the way, keeps joking about wanting a threesome with both of us,” Ashton chuckled.

“She's not joking,” Calum shot back raising his eyebrows.

“Okay so Cass, Kimmie, Jen…” Luke started naming names.

“Hollie and Haley,” Michael chimed in.

“…Alanna, Charlotte, Jay, and most currently Natasha….so yea Calum is a straight up fuckboy.”

Kevin leaned towards Eliza, nodding his head furiously as he signed with quick dramatic gestures.

Eliza, sitting across from him on the couch, threw up her hands in exasperation at the way Kevin was so concerned for her well being over Calum. He'd insisted on her coming over after work so they could talk.

“Did you think I didn't know that? He's in a band. I work for a publicist. Laura, my co-worker even had a thing with his friend Ashton. You and Mags act like I've never encountered fuckboys before. Besides have you seen Calum? I'm trying to have some fun here.” Eliza’s hands were tense as she signed slowly and deliberately, her face a mask of sarcasm.

Kevin laughed and rolled his eyes setting his phone down so he could look at her while they talked.

“Listen,” he signed,” I just don't want you to get hurt. None of the girls had anything bad to say about him except, the second you fall for him Calum lets you down gently, but he does not stick around.”

“KV, you know I don't have time for a boyfriend. My job is crazy. My personal project, Mr Zachary James, is a little shit who won't stay out of trouble, and my boss is terrifying. I know I'm not as experienced as you, or Calum,” Eliza smirked at him and Kevin flipped her off. “The guys I've dated have been boring or turned out to be assholes. I want an adventure, is that so wrong?”

Kevin rolled his eyes, “This is pointless, all the women in your family are stubborn as hell. Just be careful. I do think it's cute he's learning to sign. How much you wanna bet that's your sister?” He signed as both their phones buzzed.

Open Group Chat

Mags the Mighty Okay today has been insanely busy. I know you two are huddled up discussing lunch with Rock Star. What's the consensus?

Maggie sat back and waited knowing both of them were desperately trying to be first.

King KVN so you already know your sister is impossible, but I found out dog boy has been getting it with all the models, thots, and bad bitches that work at Lucky's and The Chelsea. This bitch doesn't care because she's thirsty. I'm trying to talk some sense into her.

Big EZ basically everything he said is true, but he has to be extra about it. From here on out every time you call him dog boy I will scuff one of your sneakers.

Mags the Mighty so wait you're okay with Calum fucking around like that? I mean he's hot and for a vacation hookup or weekend hookup sure. He's taking you on dates, asking about your family, and even signing… Maybe he likes you.

Big EZ I don't have time for any of that Mags. Besides look at Patrick and Miguel it's not like I've got a great track record

King KVN those dipshits weren't your fault and I will not tolerate my best friend putting herself down. Miguel was too insecure to handle a woman as smart and beautiful as you and he cheated to compensate. That's on him not you. Patrick is a sad little man with a sad little dick who tries to slide into your DMs WEEKLY even though he's supposedly happy with his girlfriend.

Mags the Mighty You're so extra Kev. we are not here to discuss Eliza's dismal history with men. Besides that was high school and we're all trying to pretend that never happened. When do we get to hang out with rock stars?

BIG EZ I haven't heard from him since lunch. He got all weird after Kev popped up. If you messed this up for me. I swear I will maim you.

Just then Eliza's boss interrupted their conversation with a flurry of text messages. Another client, country music party girl Shelby Keeler, had just been arrested in Texas in a bar fight, and TMZ had footage. Evie already had Maria Reynolds, the only person helping her with the nightmare that was Zachary James, on a plane to Houston to do damage control.

Not only that but his ex girlfriend, model and heiress Daisy Moss, was rumored to be hanging back around. Zachary was smart enough to try and keep this from Eliza and Jeanette, his manager, as their drug fueled bust up in a hotel suite had almost destroyed his career and cost him most of his sponsors.

Zac had been a child actor and teen pop star before washing out at 17. A couple years after that he'd built a following on YouTube with a series of videos documenting his failed comeback attempt, his struggles with mental health, and life post fame. He showed how he cared for his mom who was deaf and had a bad back from a car accident. His sister was in and out of his life as she bounced between rehab and addiction.

He'd developed his YouTube channel as a launch pad for phase 2 of his career getting a reality show on E that was entering its fifth season. However, two years ago he'd met Daisy, and since then his life had been chaos.

Eliza sighed, annoyed that her weekend was now going to be spent worried at the prospect of all her hard work with Zac going to shit. She realized when she finally got home she still hadn't heard from Calum since they'd parted ways after lunch. That was unusual but it was the weekend and Calum was probably at some bar with one of his girls. Eliza was stunned how pissed off the idea of Calum hitting on another woman made her.

Calum didn't know what to do. He wanted to text Eliza and somehow explain himself, but there was nothing to say. Everything Kevin could tell her was true, and for the first time in a long time Calum felt a bit ashamed of his behavior. Not out of regret or a sense of morality, he hated how it looked and what it might cost him. He declined to go out that night, and instead huddled up in his apartment with Duke.

Calum pouted the entire weekend. He didn't leave the house or talk to anyone for two days. Instead he ordered takeout, worked on a song, or watched videos on his laptop. He checked Eliza's Twitter and Insta but there were no posts. He even checked Zachary James’ accounts to see if work was keeping her busy, but found nothing.

Eliza spent the entire weekend with Jeanette keeping an eye on Zac. Daisy was back around and had even come by the house a couple times. Luckily he was ignoring his ex, for now, but between him whining about his failed relationship, and Jeanette bitching about Zac, Eliza was irritated for 48 hours, and it gave her a headache. By Monday morning she was in a terrible mood and took part of the morning off to spend some time with Oliver. They went to Marian's because lemon bars always lifted her spirits.

She saw Calum pulling out of the parking lot as she started to turn in. Eliza thought he saw her, but then he was gone. After placing her order and settling into a table on the patio she found herself distracted, glancing at the entrance hoping to see him walk in. Finally she'd had enough, Eliza wasn't going to let Calum ghost her without calling him on his bullshit.

Haven't heard from you since Friday, makes me wonder if Kevin frightened you off. I gotta admit, I'm disappointed, didn't think you'd scare that easily. I thought you were tougher than that.

She hit send and immediately wanted to take it back. She sent Kevin a screenshot of what she'd done and to her surprise he was awake and answered back.

Yaaasssssss, tell him about himself. I will say this tho… Your boy was nowhere to be seen this weekend. All his boys came out to Lucky's Saturday night, and I know for a fact both Haley and Nat hit him up this weekend. No one's heard anything.

He could always have girls you don't know about.

Stop that, we all know I know everything

Eliza stopped laughing when Calum’s name popped up

I'm an ass. I knew what Kevin would tell you, and it's all true, I can't deny that. I figured you'd be done so I just didn't feel like talking to anyone this weekend. I stayed home and worked on some songs.

Do you really think I was that shocked? You're in a band, you're young, and hot. You had a hickey when we met up at the dog park. I may not be very experienced, but I'm not some sheltered, naive, stupid little deaf girl.

Okay okay I'm sorry, I should have texted you. It looked bad, but I never ever thought you were naive or stupid. I think you're smart, funny, and charming. I thought a woman as classy as you could do better than someone with my history. Let me take you on a proper date. We can even be chaperoned.

What are you even talking about? Chaperoned?

Yes, let me take you out to dinner and Oliver and Duke can come along and make sure I behave like a gentleman.

You're playing the Duke card, that's completely unfair.

Tomorrow night? I can pick you guys up.

Tomorrow is fine. Tell me the time and place and I'll meet you there. I’m not ready to have you meet my mother.

Eliza realized she was holding her breath and exhaled suddenly very nervous. Her first real date with Calum, and he was determined to treat her like a lady. She wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that. What she was sure of is that she needed to figure out what to wear. She texted Maggie and Kevin and headed to work.

Eliza glanced back at Oliver in the back seat as she put the car into park. The little dude was smiley and wagging his tail although a bit apprehensive by the unfamiliar surroundings. Eliza has been thrilled when Calum told her he wanted to try Mohawk Bend, it was her sister's favorite pizza place and very dog friendly. The hostess waved to Eliza and Oliver doing a bit of a double take.

Kevin had outdone himself with her outfit tonight. He'd put her in black leggings and her black push up bra that made her boobs look huge. He then wrapped a tan cashmere scarf around her chest, hiding her cleavage so her mom wouldn't bitch. Over that he'd layered a burgundy lightweight dress, that was actually a swimsuit cover-up, using one of his belts to turn it into a cute tunic. They'd decided on simple makeup with a dark burgundy lip, black motorcycle boots and a careful application of gold highlighter to her face, body, and hair to complete the look. Her hair was in a loose Grecian braid with gold wire wrapped throughout helping tame her curls.

Calum saw Eliza walk up to the podium and show the hostess his text message about already having a table. She looked amazing without trying too hard. He'd promised to behave like a gentleman, but as his eyes took in her curves as she walked up the table, his thoughts turned carnal. Oliver and Duke greeted each other like long lost friends. Eliza smiled at him and his mind went blank. He grabbed his phone.

I had this really cool plan to impress you with some new signs I learned this weekend, but I'm too nervous to remember any of them.

Eliza wanted to scoff at the idea of Calum Hood being nervous around any woman, but despite looking insanely handsome in his all black t shirt and jeans combo, he was fidgety and sweating.

He let her decide what to order so they could share. She chose the white mushroom pizza and fish tacos to split.

They played with the dogs while they waited for the food to arrive. When it did they took turns going to wash their hands and Eliza couldn't help but notice Calum left his phone on the table when he got up.

Dinner was lovely. They went through extra napkins as they kept getting sauce everywhere. Calum fed her tacos, she wiped sauce off his chin. They kept laughing at jokes no one else got with Oliver and Duke dozing snuggled together under the table. Calum heard an older couple making comments about them being on their phones.

How do you sign mind your own business?

Eliza looked up at him and he shot a quick glance at the older fellow giving them a sour look.

She looked back at Calum signing

“Mind your own business?” he asked out loud as his hands mirrored hers. She nodded and Calum heard the guy mutter “How was I supposed to know.”

Calum insisted Eliza take the rest of the pizza home to Maggie, paid the check with a generous tip, and walked them to her car. Standing next to her car they stood there texting, neither of them quite ready to see the night end or push it further.

Until a text from Evie broke the spell and Eliza needed to go.

Calum held up a hand mouthing “wait, wait” and sent another text.

I remember one of the things I learned now

Eliza looked up and Calum raised his eyebrows and signed “Can I kiss you?”

She nodded and reached up resting her hand on the back of his neck, pulling him towards her as he lowered his lips to hers.

They both melted into the kiss, lips parting, tongues colliding and his hand gripping her hip pulling her closer. Eliza felt him get hard and she pushed her body against him. Calum broke the kiss, panting and looking at her with nothing but lust in his eyes. Eliza wanted him to keep going but he shook his head.

I don't want you to think you're just another girl.

He signed “good night, I'll text you,” before giving her another quick kiss and picking Duke up so he could say his goodbyes.

@wildhearthood @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @cal-puddies @biba3434 @grittyisathot @angelbabylu @itstheholls @irwinkitten @5sos-ficssmut @cal-pal-cuddles @calumh-excess @1dthewantedlove @you-of-ghost @babygirlcashton @sublimehood @sugarcoated-pain @calteahood @the-fifth-season @kchillout @flannelpunkcalum @unabashedlymyself @5-secondsofcolor

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lukesbum · 6 years ago

Text

Dark Heart: Part One

a/n: hi guys/anyone who stumbles upon this! this is my first fic and i’ve been wanting to write this story for a while, so if there are any kinks please give me some slack until i get the hang of things!! like/share/give me feedback!! im going to be posting this in parts and i think there are going to be a lot! im already editing part two, so give that a read when i post it!!

a hogwarts!5sos fic. enjoy.

_____________________________________________________________

Rosemary hated potions.

The professor never had office hours, the room smelt like burning hair, and frankly she just wasn’t very good at it. She would read and read and read, practice tons, and had potions memorized to the point where she could recite the ingredients like you could recite the alphabet, but for some ungodly reason her perfectly measured components would blend together in every and any way but the way they should have.

Her best friend Mikey would try to help her out, he showed her all of his tips and tricks that earned him an A in potions every year, but his tricks weren’t in the recipe. If she couldn’t even master the recipe then why in god’s name would she stray from it???

“My way is just so much easier, Rosie.” Mikey would say, shaking his head and laughing at the frizz her hair was taking on by the second. “If you do what I’m telling you to do then it’ll make it easier to get a perfect end result.”

“Mikey, I can’t just...not follow the directions.” Rosemary had told him this time after time, but he just wouldn’t drop it.

It wasn’t until her professor asked her to stay after one day that she regretted not listening to her friend.

“I want you to work with Ashton on your upcoming project. He’s my top student, you could learn a lot from him.”

“Who even is Ashton?” The thought of working with a stranger on something that was such a large part of her grade put a pit in her stomach and she could feel her palms beginning to sweat. “And isn’t Michael top of the class? I’ve been working with him and-”

“I adore Michael, I really do, and while he has been earning nearly perfect scores I think Ashton would be a much better teacher.” The professor shrugged and gave Rosemary a small smile.

“Well, why can’t I just meet with you? I know you don’t do office hours but-”

“Miss Dare, please. You’ll be working with Ashton Irwin and that’s final. I’ve asked him to meet you here tomorrow at noon, does that work?”

Rosemary just nodded, not wanting to talk back to her professor for a second time.

She didn’t even have the energy to go back to the common room, solving a riddle did not sound appealing when Rosemary was giving herself a headache from worrying so much. Rosemary had her friends and that was that. She never really went beyond them because her anxious interior presented a somewhat bitchy exterior that strangers got a taste of and chose to leave it at that. Even Calum considered never talking to her after the first night they met. After both being sorted into Ravenclaw, the two shy first years found themselves seated together at a then very intimidating table full of older kids who already knew each other. Rosemary kept giving Calum clipped answers to all of his questions and wouldn’t look up from the plate she was picking at. To say he was surprised when she sat with him in the common room the next day- even if they just sat in silence while he drew in his sketchbook and Rosemary read- would be an understatement.

Later, Rosemary found herself sitting with Calum and one of his friends- a Gryffindor- in the great hall for dinner. His friend was okay, she had met him more than a few times at this point and could tolerate him for the time she was forced to hang out with him (Calum never forced Rosemary to hangout, but she wasn’t going to deny Calum of having one other friend just because of her pre-decided dislike towards Gryffindors).

“Luke,” She interrupted whatever Calum was saying to pose her question. “Do you know an Ashton?”

“Ashton Irwin?”

“Uh,” Rosemary pursed her lips and thought for a moment. “I think so. Do you know anything about him?”

“Do I?” Luke let out a mix between a laugh and a sigh. “Yeah I know him. Why? You fancy him?”

“No. No, god no. I don’t even know who he is. My potions professor wants me to work with him on our next project.” With a shrug, she chose to omit the fact that the reason she was paired with him was because he was exelling and she was not.

Luke tapped his ringed fingers against the table, he was always trying to add something different to his uniform to make it..well, less uniform. Rings, painted nails, even makeup were all things he dabbled in. Honestly, Luke was hot. If it weren’t for the gossip Mikey had told her about how he’s been working his way around all the Hufflepuffs in their year then she would totally go for him.

“Well, Ashton’s a bit of a dick. I don’t think he’s rude, but he’s not pleasant to be around. I had divination with the blockhead and he was just kind of an asshole, didn’t even try and wrote off the class as bullshit.” Luke shrugged. “I got on well with him though. Overall a nice guy, I’m sure he’ll cooperate for your project.”

Rosemary nodded, the information made her a little less on edge about the whole situation. “Thanks. I’m meeting him tomorrow at noon.”

“Where?”

She looked at Calum with her brows drawn together. “The potions classroom?? Where else?”

“I just wanted to know. Jeez.”

With that the raven haired girl let out a sigh and started to stand. “Can we go now? Both of us?”

Calum rolled his eyes. “You just go, ya grump. I’ll meet you later.”

“Calum I just don’t have the energy to stand there and not be able to figure out the riddle. Last time a first year had to let me in. A first year.” Rosemary pouted. “Please? I’ll give you whatever homework answers you want.”

“You really think I trust your potions homework?” Calum smiled and stood. “Bye Luke.”

___

Rosemary had been sitting in the potions room since five minutes before noon and twenty minutes later she was still alone. Leave it to her to not appreciate Mikey’s help and be left to work with some lazy, rude, probably overall dumb-

“Are you Rose?”

Rosemary jumped from her stool and placed a hand over her chest. Jesus. Very smooth

“Hello?? Don’t tell me you’re stupid and deaf.”

She finally turned to face him. “Excuse me?”

And she thought Luke was hot.

Ashton was tall and had broad shoulders, his hair fell in loose waves to the nape of his neck and one curl sat on his forehead. He wore his uniform without a tie and had his pant legs rolled so you could see his deep green socks peeking out. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows exposing his forearms.

The boy smirked and walked towards her, placing a book down on the table and leaning back on it with his elbows. Rosemary took in his uniform one more time, of course he was a Slytherin. His whole presence just carried cockiness with it and, frankly, she didn’t have the patience for that.

“You heard me. I’m Ashton by the way.” He stuck out a hand and all she could do was stare at his lopsided grin and bite the inside of her cheek. “Pleasure.”

Turning away from him, she opened her textbook and leaned forward to read the directions printed inside of it.

“Are you ready to start?” Ashton took a step closer to you, he was too close now and you could hear your heart beating in your ears.

Rosemary cleared her throat. “Yeah, but can you not stand so close to me?”

“Why sweetheart? Am I making you nervous?”

“Just-” She took a deep breath. “Personal space. Please.”

Surprisingly, Ashton moved to stand on the other side of the table and set himself up across from her. Once everything was in its place he held his hands out in front of himself. “Good?”

“Uh. Yeah, thanks.” She set up her own cauldron and avoided his eyes. “And it’s Rosemary.”

“What?”

“My name isn’t Rose. It’s Rosemary.”

Ashton let out a chuckle and raised a brow at her. “Same thing, darling.”

“Rosemary.” She huffed, seeing how her afternoon was going to turn out.

“Fine. Rosemary. Let’s start.”

Ashton turned out to be an okay teacher, just not a very friendly one. He followed what was written exactly and worked at a slow pace so Rosemary could keep up. She couldn’t help but stop to look at him a couple times, how could she have not noticed him before? His confident stature was one that demanded attention and even the sound of his voice was sexy. With tousled hair and large hands that knew exactly when to reach up and adjust it, she couldn’t see one flaw in his appearance. Even the flaw she could detect, his attitude, seemed forgivable when she was looking at him; his eyes and jawline, his prominent adam’s apple, and-

“Hello, did you hear me? Let’s call it a day, my arms are starting to get sore from stirring.” Ashton pushed a strand of lock from his forehead and shut his book, looking up at Rosemary as if inviting her to do the same.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Are you doing anything right now?”

She stared at him for a moment.

What?

“You mean after this?”

Ashton shrugged. “Well we’re done now so. What are you doing now?”

“Oh, uh,” Rosemary started packing things into her bag and kept her eyes trailed on the ground. “I’m supposed to meet with my friend Michael and-”

“Fuck him. Come with me.”

Excuse me? “Michael is my best friend so-”

“He’s a Puff right? I know ‘im. It’s fine, he won’t mind.”

“What? How-”

“Well we-”

“Ashton.” Rosemary rolled her eyes and swung her bag over her shoulder. “Stop interrupting me. It’s really fucking rude.”

“Watch your mouth, sweetheart.” Ashton’s smile fell and he took a step towards her.

Oh. Rosemary’s mouth went dry and she knew the right reaction should be anger. The audacity of this boy to tell her how to speak as if she were a child? How dare a complete stranger stand there and reprimand you with that look. Although those were truly her thoughts, her body betrayed her. Her breath hitched in her throat and she knew Ashton could tell, her bottom lip went between her teeth and she felt heat in her cheeks.

“C’mon. You’ll have fun.” Ashton passed Rosemary and at the same time took her bag from her shoulder, shrugging it onto his own and standing in the doorway, expectantly. “Please?”

As if she had a choice.

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dearagony15 · 6 years ago

Text

Fall Into Your Sunlight.

BLOOD SERENADE.

Chapter. 1 Fall Into Your Sunlight.

Saint Hills. 2016.

6 am. The alarm had rung, loudly. Skyla was walking fastly out from the bathroom. She was throwing her towel on her bed and taking a rubbermaid from her desk, pulling her red straight hair to the top of her head and tighted it up. She was looking at the clock. Hm, 6am. Time is up, she said to herself and then turning off the alarm bottom. She was taking her jins jacket and her backpack, ready to go to school again.

Skyla Marianne Herbert, 16 years old. One of Lincoln High School’s students. Smart, multi talented and food lovers. She had a best friend named Dave Spencer. Skyla first best friend since she has moved here. Dave was an introvert guy and so does she. That is why, they both fits each other to rejecting people around. And Skyla loves the way Dave talking to others because he was a quite sarcastic man, full of silence and mystery. He always use the same tone when he was talking, except when he gets mad his tone will be a little bit higher. She knew him very well.

Tinnnnn tinnnnn.

Dave was beeping his car, giving Skyla a sign that it was their time to go to school together. Skyla was walking through the stairs fastly, almost like she was dancing like a queen there. Yeah, she is very active person and faster while walking or doing everything. She always win running competition at school. But never want to join sports club or athletic. She hates being sweat and now she starts to hate sunlight though.

“Sorry, it took you so long,” said Skyla apologies to Dave. She was sitting in the passenger seat and closing the door.

“Welcome back to Saint Hills,” said Dave to her without a single smile.

“Thanks.” Skyla replied cheerfuly. “Well, good morning,” she said again to him and giving the best smile to him. Wish he could say something nice today. She misses him so much.

Dave was looking at Skyla, nodded and roaring the engine while she put the seatbelt to her body. He almost never talk or say something first except Skyla makes her moves. Kinda cold hearted guy. Makes all girls at Lincoln adored him so much.

“Hei.” Skyla shook his arm to get Dave attention. “If someone said good morning to you, you should have replied it back. It called respect and care, Spencer.” She reminds him with her soft and perfect intonation. Sounds so adorable and clingy. But that is her. Dave can stand for it.

“I do,” said Dave short and simple.

“How? I didn’t see or listen it.” Seems like she wanna starts the war, but well--- that’s her. Cheerful and hilarious. If she suddenly keep silence, means something happened to her. Dave knew it very well. And have to become accustomed with that.

“With my way.” Dave said again while driving to Lincoln.

Skyla nodded in a long silence.

Dave just kept quiet too. He was rolling down the window besides him and let the fresh air come into them. Well, it was 6;15 am by the way. Still freezing and foggy. Saint Hills was more colder because of the different climate and geographic. And she loves it.

“--- okay. Not in the good mood, Huh?” Skyla tried to humor him, at least make a joke for today before heading for a Math test together.

“Don’t be too sensitive, Skyla.” Dave turned around the steer at the corner of the street and passed a long road with many people jogging and running.

Skyla nodded. She made him mad again. Always. But he looked cute though. She smiles in the silence. “Okay.” She nodded.

Dave was driving slowly. The sun was warm outside and when he passed by the traffic light, the sunlight was shining through them by the opened window from Dave’s side.

“Ouch.” Skyla closed her eyes quickly with her palms covering her face when the sunlight passed them by.

“Are you okay?,” asked Dave. He looked at her seriously, worried. But still with a half focused on the road too.

Skyla still closed her eyes behind her palms until she makes sure that the sunlight passed by. “Yeah. I’m good,” she replied, confused though. “I forgot my sun glassess. Damn.”

Dave was opening the dashboard and giving one glasses to her. Not a sun glasses actually, just a normally glasses he knows she dropped it there sometimes. “Take this.” He gave it to her.

“Thanks.” She took it and smile to him. “My eyes---.” She was wearing that glasses and stopped to continue her words. It’s not the right time to talk about this now. No, when Dave still have a cold words to her. She hates it.

“What happened with your eyes?,” asked Dave now, finally, still driving carefully.

“Nothing.” Skyla answered him. Take a revenge now with a short answer.

“Elaborate nothing.”

“It’s just---- nothing.”

“Okay.”

Skyla was turning the radio station on to kill the damn silence situation in the car. And SUM 41 song was playing on air with the titled With Me, her favorite one. Make everything so awkward now. She checked her phone many times and opening her Math book, try to remind all the things she read and learned last night.

Dave was looking at Skyla from the mirror in front of his head. He knows this girl being too sensitive again and again almost everyday especially when she got back from England. Sounds weird because she looked different after came back here and he never asked about what had happened. “Getting irritation a whole week?” Dave glanced back at her and then back to his steer again. 100% focused. “Your eyes.” He added again with a soft voice now.

Skyla nodded. “Yeah. Somehow. It’s gonna be more sensitive. I don’t know.” She covered her face while the sunshine was shining up above the car.

“You did something wrong with your eyes? Like--- plastic surgery or something. In England.”

“Oh my God, no.” Skyla denied it. “I won’t do that even if I want to.” She added with a lower tone, like talking to herself.

“Eyes like Yuna Final Fantasy 10 is cool.” Dave smile, trying to make a joke but Skyla sulked herself.

“Yeah. That’s why you like her.”

Dave smile again and now was staring back at Skyla for a second only. “Go and do your medical check up.”

“Come on, Dave. It’s such a simple thing. This glasses help me so much. Thanks for that.”

“Okay. And when will you start to driving again?,” asked Dave, changed the topic. Trying to keep the conversation on. But in a second he thought that he chose the wrong topic. He was in a dangerous area now. And it’s too late to take it back.

“Why? You hate to see me everyday or you getting bored drops and picks me up everyday or you girlfriend doesn’t like----------,” Suddenly Skyla was losing her temper. Her emotions ups and downs. Burning inside her head. Now she can’t handled it anymore.

“Silence, Skyla.” Dave cut her words with an intense look. “You’re on period or something?”

Skyla exhaled. She was trying to control her emotions now and almost crying. “Sorry. And, no. It’s over.” God, she doesn’t know what happens with her.

“Your emotion.” Dave replied it back to her.

“I know. Sorry.”

“What happened when you were in England?,” asked Dave finally.

“Nothing. All same.” But actually not much.

Still Dave distrusted of something. “Did they fight again yesterday when you got home? Your parents.” Dave asked. He can’t believe her statement.

“I don’t have parents.” She said, fed up.

“Skyla---”

Silence for a second.

“Always,” replied Skyla then. “They always fight and throws everything around--- nothing’s changed.”

Dave nodded and keep driving. “It’s been a year. Right? Since that day. Dan.”

“Yeah.” Skyla knows what Dave wanna talking about. It’s about Dan, her brother. Who died a year ago, car accident at Saint Hills. That was the reason why she hates driving and chose to left Saint Hills a year ago. And now she has come back here. Bring all the puzzle back into this town.

“That’s your reason to stop driving?,” asked Dave in a long silence. He stopped his car in the parking lot. Waiting for her to answering his serious question. But Skyla just turn off the radio station.

“Kind of.” Skyla replied him, released the seat belt and came out from Dave’s car.

Lincoln. Like usually, always crowded and full of lies and dramas. Skyla was waiting for Dave to come out from his car. She was standing behind the window and seeing a red SUV car was arriving with a high speed race, parking besides Dave’s car. And then she saw a tall, modest and pale guy came out from the driver’s seat. Looks like a duplicate from Ashton Kutcher as well. Then a girl--- Maureen, maybe, as she had remembered, came out and following that tall guy. The wind blowing harshly. Make a chance for both of them to look and staring each others, feeling the same smells.

Skyla was looking at that guy and so does him. She can smells something different from him and Maureen. Something like---- not normal things, that makes her feels so addicted and attractive to them. And she doesn’t know what is it. Just a strange and strong scent around them. And it’s not like a perfume or cologne. The scent--- is more than that and it stinks her a lot.

“What is this scent?,” asked Skyla to herself. She touched her nose many times to get away that scent.

“Hi, Skyla,” said Maureen nicely. She grabbed her boyfriend’s hands tightly in front of her. Her lovely Ashton Kuthcer. And smile flirtatious. Ewww.

“Hi. Do you know me?,” asked Skyla innocent. She can hear Maureen’s boyfriend laugh and she looks so stupid in front of them. Omg, where’s Dave at the moment like this. And the scent, really makes her sick.

“Nice to see you---, Skyla.” The Ashton Kutcher twin now was talking to Skyla, smile, look nice almost perfect and--- creepy.

His eyes. Skyla doesn’t like his eyes. Reminds her of something--- or someone in her head she can’t remember clearly. It’s like a dejavu to be honest.

Maureen just gave Skyla a sweet weird smile. She didn’t answer Skyla’s question and walked away like a greedy princess with her boyfriend. The couple looked like a parody of Kate and Prince William in the real suck life. Full of fake drama.

Skyla smirked at her. “Annoying,” she said in a low tone. Grumbling about them.

“Who?,” asked Dave suddenly appeared behind her shoulder.

“Who’s that tall, white pale guy? I’ve never seen him in a while. He drove that red car like a racer. He’s new here?,” asked Skyla to Dave. Her eyes keep watching to that couple until Dave was talking and giving her an answer.

“He’s Chambells. You don’t recognize him?,” said Dave amazed.

“--- Chambells?” Skyla repeated that name and thinking for a minute. She feels so familiar with that name. “Well, You know, since ---”

“Yeah. I knew.” Dave cut her words.

“So, who’s that guy? Identical of Ashton Kutcher or something?”

“Yeah, Lucius Chambells. They looked same, actually. Do you remember The Chambells family?”

“I don’t know. Just feel so familiar with that name. You tell me.”

“Of course you do. They have been a part of Saint Hills’ for almost many years. Lucius is the youngest. He sent aboard by his father from Saint Hills for duties a year ago.”

“Duties? What kind of duties?,” asked Skyla curious.

“I don’t know. Church’s service maybe.”

“Owh, finally there’s one thing you can’t solved it.” Skyla smiled to Dave.

“It’s not my problem, anyway.”

“Yeah you’re right. Go on, continue your story.”

“Now, seems like he has come back here. With Maureen, his long term girlfriend.”

“But, how did they recognize me? They called my name, like, Hi Skyla,--- well, we’re not a friend and I’ve never talked to them as I’ve been remember in my entire life.”

“Efraim and Meredith Chambells was a priest-preacher couple at St. John. And Lucius was a part of the music team at that community. Maybe they have had met you before and you just forgot.”

“Really?” Skyla not so sure about that.

“Yeah. You left this town almost a year, right?”

“Wow. You know more about this town very well. Better than me,” said Skyla. She pushed Dave shoulder and smile, looked surprised, giving it as a compliment to him. “That’s a compliment. I’m not flirting.”

“Yes, you are,” replied Dave indifferently. He walked by, left Skyla behind.

Skyla was running to catch Dave. “Hei. I’m not flirting, Dave. I said the truth from the bottom of my heart,” she tried to pleading herself. Acted like a cute puppy. But Dave too shy to give her a response for that.

“First class, Math. Remember?,” He reminds Skyla as an order.

“Arghhhhhhhhhhhhh. You are ruining my mood!,” said Skyla punched Dave shoulder as a joke.

“You have to drive yourself home.” Dave walking to his chair and sit beside Skyla.

“No. It’s your job. You made a promise before.” Skyla reminded her best friend about that again. She grinned and showing her teeth now. Pretending to look angry or something.

“Shhh.”

“Silence. I know.”

During Math exam.

Dave looked fine with all the questions in his papers. His hands never stop writing. But not with Skyla. She looked flustered. She’s already done with her questions exam but something stuck in her mind. Something like what? Something like--- Oh my God, she realized that The Ashton Kutcher twin was sitting behind her and now was staring, glaring to her. His eyes full of hunger and curiously of something too. Makes her feels so cold and creepy at that moment. She look toward by turning her head to Dave, try to get his attention but Dave just focus with his paper only. It’s sucks and annoying. And when she saw a number in her paper again, her mind reminds of something. Something like a flashback memory in her mind.

30 29 28 27 ------------------------------------------ bipppppp bippppppppppppppppp.

“No. No. Please, Dan. Don’t leave me alone. Please!” Skyla screamed behind the mirror of Emergency Room at Saint Hills Hospital Center. Her body was wet, shaking, sweat and full of blood. Smells blood everywhere. She can hear the impulse slowly was going down and down from the outside of Emergency Room. No heartbeat, almost. She knows what would it be but she tried to ignored all the bad possibility. She can see the Death was standing beside Dan’s iron bed. Ready to do his jobs.

“No. No, don’t do that. Don’t do that to him. Hei! Take me! But let him go. Release him away! Hei!” Skyla screamed to Death, or someone invisible from the outside of the Emergency Room. She tried to get in but the nurse guarded against her and forced her to stay or they will get her into the medical patient, as an unconscious patient.

“Can you just sit and calm yourself down, please Miss Herbert?,” asked the old nurse lady. She was grabbing Skyla’s hands and forced her to sit back and relax. Her eyes was glaring and--- red.

“No. I can’t. He’ll take my brother if you don’t let me in and make a deal with him,” said Skyla was trying to explain to her but she knows the old nurse lady won’t understand her instead will think she was a crazy girl after became a survivor from the accident.

“Him? You mean Death? How dare yourself to make a deal with Him?,” she asked Skyla again with full of emphasized with her words.

Skyla was standing up now, looking eye to eye with the old nurse lady. And she smells something, like a weird scent of flower or sage or anything name on it. She hates that scent. More than she hates smell of blood. “How do you know that? You can see Death too?,” asked Skyla curious. She can feel something weird, strange, strong and very powerful with the nurse. She’s a witch? No. Her aura was totally different with the other people here. She’s not a part of us. No. Skyla can feel it. That was one of the gift God gave to her since she was born. Got a supernatural weird annoying sense, she called it.

“Who are you? You’re not one of us,” Skyla asked the nurse again. Her eyes was looking deeply into her red eyes too. Wish could see or find something.

“You’re fast enough to realized about it, Miss Herbert. That’s mean you will going to 17 years old. Good age to be turn. That’s a beautiful gift for you.”

“What do you mean?,” asked Skyla again.

“You will know or you have already knew.”

“I don’t have time to play Sherlock Holmes with you!”

“Yes, you’re right. Your time much less since from now.”

5 4 3 2 1--------------------------------------------- bippppppppppppppppppppppppp.

Skyla can hear it. She was turning around her head and walking toward the door of Emergency Room. “No! Please! Let me in!,” said her to the old nurse lady. Wish the nurse would help her to come inside. But the old nurse just kept quite and ignoring her. Just watching her faded. “Please,” she begging please, desperately.

The doctor and nurses tried so hard as the best as they could to saved Dan. But it’s not worked. He sustained bad injury almost all over his head and body, bleeding and swollen. That was a fatal car crashed but Skyla didn’t get any injury even her blouse and jins ripped out and dirty. No physical injury. Nothing. The doctor team had done with the medical check up but she’s fine. That was really weird and strange things. In fact, Skyla sat in the passenger seat. So the doctor assumed that was a miracle here at Saint Hills.

“I’m sorry, Miss Herbert. That was his destiny to die, Miss Herbert.” The old nurse lady explained to her. “Just to keep you saved.” She added again.

Skyla was walking closer and now she was standing in front of the old lady, glaring her red eyes she frightened too. “I don’t need your words. I don’t need Dan to die just to keep me save. I need him alive to keep me save!”

“It’s written all in the prophecy.”

“What kind of stupid prophecy?! Back to reality, Please!” Skyla was screaming to the old lady but no one notice about them. Seems like all the circumstance frozen.

“This is your reality you have to face it through, Miss Herbert! Own it as the Chosen Lady!” She shouted back to Skyla now.

“You’re crazy. Screw you. May your soul burns in hell.” Skyla cursed her.

“You will know what’s like to be in hell when you wake up then.”

Splashed of light and Skyla can’t remember anything again. All she had known she was lying on the white bed in hospital, smells of medicine mixed with everything there. She only knows that she lost Dan. Forever. She feels so bad and her heart become so numb.

Tap tap tap. Skyla heard footsteps was coming closer. It was not the same sounds like the doctor or nurse but it was different. Tap tap tap. And no heartbeat. She was counting in her mind with her cold eyes. Mourning. Dying. And they were coming closer to her, the Chambells. Efraim and Meredith Chambells. They were walking into the room wore a couple of black suit and handed a Bible in their hand. Skyla was turning around her head and expecting her parents to come but the Chambells showed up. Where’s mom and dad now? They supposed to be here. Now. Dave. Where is he now? Skyla keep questioning it.

“Are you Skyla Marianne Herbert?,” asked Meredith nicely. Her face looked so pale like a porcelain. Her black hair was straight into her shoulder, neat and perfectly beauty. She was looking at Skyla, waiting for her answer with giving her a sweet warm smile.

“Who are you?,” asked Skyla with her soft voice. She was sitting on her bed with her hospital uniform. Looked so pale and weak. She wasn’t feel good. Seems like many blade and knive was stabbing all her body. It’s tortured her since she woke up.

“I guess your answer is yes.” Meredith nodded. Still with a smile politely.

“Who the hell are you?,” asked Skyla again. With her cold voice, her eyes glaring back at them, full of hate and anger.

Efraim taking over the conversation now. “We’re from St. John. I’m Efraim and she’s my wife, Meredith. We give our condolence about your brother, Dan.” He said with a soft tone intonation. Feel so peacefully and warm.

“Thanks,” replied Skyla.

“Where’s your parents?” Efraim asked her. Because he didn’t see anyone there.

“I don’t know. They supposed to be here also.” Skyla was rubbing her chest. She feels something burning inside and makes her want to throw up.

“Are you okay?,” asked Meredith coming closer to touch Skyla’s face. At that moment she could smells Skyla’s blood rushing through her vein. Fresh, addictive, attractive and totally pureblood. That’s why she could heal by herself and The Oracle said about this girl was right. She was caressing Skyla’s back head, acting like a mother figure she knows that girl needed the most. And she read all her mind. The Oracle has came to her already and compelled her to forget what had happened. Poor little girl. Her time will come, said Meredith.

“Yeah,” replied Skyla then.

“You were at passenger seat at that moment, right?,” said Efraim to Skyla. “I saw your last report medical check up from doctor. And it said that you’re totally good without any injury with your body.”

Meredith didn’t surprise to see Skyla’s last report in her husband’s hand. It described that Skyla’s blouse ripped out from her breast, means that maybe it supposed to be a place she could have bad injury there. And blood stain almost in her body but she’s fine, no scar. Clean. That was a miracle? Or means something.

Skyla shook her head twice. Confused. “I don’t know. I don’t know what happened to me!,” she said full of emotional.

“Do you remember the last thing that happen before that incident?,” asked Efraim again.

Skyla was trying to remember all in her mind. But she pissed off. She was feeling so bad about it. She hates everyone around and where is her parents? Where’s Dave too?

“Please, try to remember all as you can. Maybe we could help you.” Meredith added.

“You’re here to pray or to investigating?,” asked Dave suddenly appeared behind Efraim’s back. He was staring at them one by one with his blue eyes and feeling so annoyed to them.

“Dave,” called Skyla surprised but happy.

Dave hugged Skyla tightly and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry. I have to handled something last night. Are you okay?” He asked while looking at Skyla’s face and he feels that her body’s temperature was so hot like a fire burned.

Skyla nodded in her silence but Dave knows her silence means something happened.

“Look at me and answer my question,” Dave said as an order.

“You can take a look by yourself, Dave. No scar or bad injury. I’m freaking alive. Like a freak one! A monster or a walking dead, maybe,” she said with a high tension of emotion. Her eyes glaring at him and she almost pass out.

Dave was so worried. He didn’t know what he’d gonna do. “Fever only? That’s impossible,” he said to Skyla with his soft intonation from his voice.

“That’s why we’re here. We could help her, Mr. Spencer.” Efraim cut their conversation though.

“You?,” asked Dave uncertainly.

“Yes,” replied Efraim politely.

“Doctor is better than your consultation, by the way,” replied Dave sarcasm.

“Doctor would never gave you the right explanation about how she could have saved from the fatal incident. I bet you saw the crime scene before you came here, Mr. Spencer,” said Meredith to Dave.

“So, you’re a Witch or something?” Dave asked.

“We can help, if you let us. But if you---”

“Get them out from here, Dave,” said Skyla.

“You allright?,” asked Dave again. He looked at Skyla. She’s sweat, pale and her body temperature suddenly became cold.

“Get them hell out from here!!!!!!” Skyla screamed in front of them.

“We’re very sorry about your brother. But this is the last thing we could do for you and for us,” said Meredith to Skyla.

“Devil,” cursed Skyla.

Meredith and Efraim didn’t care about it. The last thing Skyla could remember just, a flashed light and darkness.

End.

After school, in the parking lot.

“Skyla,” called Dave. But no reaction from her. “Skyla.” He repeated again and shaking her shoulder.

“Yeah?,” replied Skyla shocked for a while.

Dave was looking at Skyla’s face, guessing by himself. “What are you thinking about?,” he asked.

Skyla shook her head. “Thinking--- about what?,” she asked again, confused.

Dave pointed his finger, showing her what he questioned about. “Them?”

“Who?” Skyla asked again when she saw Lucius had a serious debate with Maureen not far from the parking lot area. She can hear them fighting each other, talking about cheating, sex things and breaking up thing.

“Lucius and Maureen,” added Dave again make it clear his statement.

“What?” Skyla had realized that she was looking at that couple almost couple minutes ago. Dave knew it and she was freaking out now. Blushing too. “No. I’m just--- I don’t know. Let’s go.”

Dave suddenly was throwing his car key to Skyla. She fastly responded and caught it with her right hand. Epic. “Nice catch.”

“Thank you.” But what’s that mean? She confused again.

“Now, you have to drive me home,” Dave said to her while walking into the passenger seat.

“No. No. Dave, I can’t.” Skyla was in panic situation.

“You can’t or you don’t want to?”

“I—I can’t. You know why.”

“I know. So what? Face it and move on.”

“Dave, it’s been a year and I’ve never ever driven since that day. Even in England.”

“Yeah. It’s been a years. So?,” asked Dave. He feels so irritated hearing Skyla blowing up about England.

“---” Skyla didn’t answer him. She kept quiet. Frozen.

“You know, everybody’s here used car. Helps a lot. It’s the only transportation here instead you prefer to walk.”

Skyla smiled bitter to him. “Seems like you don’t want me in your life anymore. You tried to pushing me away.”

“Stand up for yourself. Now I was trying to make you that way.”

“I can stand for myself, Dave!”

“But you’re not, actually. You ran away. Once you’ve done, you will do the same.”

Dave words totally hurts Skyla’s feelings. “Because I went to England?! Did you think I run away?!”

“What else?”

“What?”

“You just left that day. Remember? As a best friend, you didn’t say goodbye or anything. You just left.”

“You kept all questions in your mind and now you throwing it all in front of my face. This is the new you, by the way?”

“And this is the new you? Came back to town, you totally different. Your appearance, emotionally stuffs, reckless self control, afraid with sunlight. You’re a vampire or something?”

Skyla can feel it at that moment. Lucius was staring at her, when he ended debating with Maureen. Maureen has just left. Skyla can feel it. That looked was so intense and made her feel so--- frightened and secure too at the same time.

“Okay.” Skyla ended that stupid debate with Dave and enter into the driver’s seat. She just wanna save her pride only. She knows Lucius keep staring at her. Even it’s her first time to see him eye to eye but she feels like she have known him before, somewhere.

Dave followed her and sat at the passenger seat, waiting for her to start the engine. But she didn’t do anything except kept quiet and frozen. “What’s wrong?,” he asked. Worried though.

“Just so you know. I’ve never left without said goodbye, Dave,” Skyla was trying to explain. Her eyes focused with one red dot in front of the lensed view. Seeing Lucius keep standing outside in the same place with the same attention to her eyes, straight to the hell or heaven.

“It’s okay. I understand. I’m over it,” replied Dave cold like usually.

“No. You have to know this.”

“Meaning?”

“I came to you at that night. To said goodbye. I remembered that.”

“No, you’ve just left.”

“I called you. You didn’t answer your phone. I texted but you just read it. You chose your girlfriend and ignored me at that time. When I needed you the most. Andrea, remember?”

Dave kept quite. He didn’t say anything instead of keep listening to her.

“It’s okay.” Skyla added again. “If you wanna take your time to date some girls around, I understand. I’ve never want to tight you, though. So, I understand. I am.”

“Why did you blow it up now? You can called me from England. Phone call, email or anything.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because---” Something missing in Skyla’s head. And she suddenly stopped talking as if something forced her to stopped by.

“What?”

“----- I can’t remember it--- anymore.”

“It’s ridiculous, don’t you know that?! Have you met a guy in England? Even your parents didn’t care about you except me, Skyla. I was so worried at that time!”

“I know! I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay? I’ve told you thousand times.”

“Don’t you know secret will ruin relationship?”

I know, very well. Skyla nodded and answered it by herself.

“Okay. Keep drive, I have to do my things,” said Dave ended the arguments.

Skyla still can’t do it. Even she was trying to start the engine, the flashback and all the scene was playing back in her mind. Made her feel so horrible and frightened. She still remember that day. All the scene in her head. “I’m sorry.” She said. Released the seatbelt and came out from the car. Dave just watched. In a second he saw Lucius keep watching of him but in a next second he saw Lucius has left. So was Skyla.

#shortstory #fantasy #Writersoftumblr #vampires #story #original

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lankydoodlelukey · 7 years ago

Text

the soul tattoo - fourteen

pairing: Luke/Reader (Y/N)

rating: PG-13: cursing, mentions of sex, etc etc

word count: a nice long 3k to apologize for taking two years to give you the next part of this story...

summary: If one day you woke up with a random tattoo on your body, you were destined to meet your soulmate soon. When (Y/N) finally gets her soul tattoo, she’s in for a shock when she finds out who her soulmate is.

masterlist // the soul tattoo season 1 recap

Luke’s POV

I expected my life were to get better the second (Y/N) was out of the picture. But I was wrong. I thought that if I made her feel the hurt I felt every time I saw her and Michael together, things would feel “even” between us. But as I lay in my bed, alone and staring at the ceiling, I wondered why I even felt this way. (Y/N) was not my soulmate, yet it almost felt like she was. I debated with this back and forth for hours. Before I knew it, it was four in the morning. We were to leave for the last leg of the North American tour in a few hours. I sighed. Why was (Y/N) the only thing running through my head?

Once the plane took off into the sky, I really thought that I would be in a better head space. Being on stage was where I was happiest. Seeing all the fans in the audience singing along to our songs and having a great time made each day of being in this band so much more worth it. I was excited to get away from all the soulmate drama. But when we hit the first city, I was distracted. I was missing my cues, forgetting lyrics, tripping over myself and completely forgetting the choreography we had during some of the songs.

At first, I thought I was just having an off day, but it soon became a frequent occurrence at the following shows. I was off my game just because I couldn’t get a girl out of my damn head. It didn’t help that every time I tried to hang with the boys during our free time, they would all be on the phone facetiming with (Y/N). A few times, I even heard her ask for me, but I refused to see/talk to her. I couldn’t bear it. People were starting to notice that something was up. I had to dissuade everyone and just tell them that tour life was getting to me, but deep down I’m sure everyone knew that wasn’t it.

The tour continued on for a month and a half. My soulmate had asked to come and visit me on tour, but I declined. I told her that I would see her when I got back. I still couldn’t understand why I was being pulled in (Y/N)’s direction and away from my soulmate. None of this made any sense. I felt like I was losing it. I found myself having dreams about (Y/N). In the dreams, she was my soulmate. We spoke about music and our dreams. With her I didn’t feel empty. I didn’t feel like an object. I felt whole.

The only person that knew about what I was going through on tour was Ashton. A couple of years ago, Ashton had thought he found his soulmate, but the job made it hard for him and his soulmate to be together. It was one of those rare cases, but both of their soul tattoos faded. They fell out of love quicker than they could fall back in love and restore everything. It was a hard time for Ash. There was a moment when he just wanted to leave the band because the pain was unbearable. We all convinced him that leaving the band wouldn’t help him. The boys and I were there for him during that hard time.

A week into the last leg of the tour, Ashton came up to me and asked what’s wrong.

“I don’t know, mate. My head is all over the place. I can’t get her out of my mind,” I said with a sigh. Ashton laughed.

“Luke, it’s perfectly okay to miss your soulmate!” He said, patting me on the back. I shook my head.

“That’s the thing, Ash. I wasn’t talking about my soulmate. I was talking about (Y/N),” I whispered. Ashton became quiet. He sat down next to me. We were in our hotel rooms, a couple of hours before our show in Atlanta. Calum and Michael were out exploring the city.

“Did you and (Y/N)…?” Ashton inquired. I scoffed.

“No, nothing happened. I would never do something like that, especially to Michael, or my soulmate, for that matter,” I said. “But, Ash. I’m telling you, the first time I met her, I just knew. I thought I knew when I first met my soulmate. But when I met (Y/N), I never felt anything like it before. It actually physically hurt me to see Michael with her.” I put my head in my hands and rubbed my forehead in frustration. “But I just can’t seem to find a reason why I feel this way. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

Ashton laughed. I looked up from my hands and gave him an agitated look. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh. It’s just that… that explains everything. It explains why you’ve been such a dick to her and why you refuse to see or talk to her. And why you decided to turn into a rabbit before tour and fuck your soulmate so obnoxiously,” Ashton said with a hint of a tease.

“Will you shut up about that?” I groan, slumping in my seat.

“So what does this mean?” Ashton asked. “Is (Y/N) your real soulmate?”

“You’re just as lost as I am, mate,” I said.

“Well, we have about less than a month and a half till tour is over. We leave for Bali a week after that and Mikey just told me (Y/N) is coming with. Can you get your feelings in check by then?”

“Oh, for fucks sake. (Y/N) is coming to Bali too?”

“I would be surprised if she didn’t…” Ashton said, trailing off.

“Great. This is just great. How do you just forget your feelings for someone you feel so strongly about?” I ask aloud. Ashton sighs as he stands. He puts a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. If not, write a song,” he says with a shrug and walks towards his room.

I sigh. This is going to be harder than I thought.

---

(Y/N)’s POV

The boys are almost back! It’s crazy to think that almost two months has gone by. To getting my soul tattoo, to being Michael’s girlfriend, it’s clearly been an intense two months. Now the boys are days from leaving tour and we’re set to leave for Bali in less than a week.

I was nervous. A few weeks ago, Michael had asked me to join him and the boys and all their friends. We were facetiming one night and he just blurted it out. At first, I was skeptical of the idea, but since graduating university, I hardly took days off for myself. I worked my ass off every day. I told Michael I would love to go, but I had to find out from my boss if I could go before I committed to anything.

I first brought it up to (Y/F/N) and her reaction was different than I expected. I figured she was gonna dissuade me from going.

“YES! Oh my god! Yes, you should go. Bali is gorgeous and you’ll have so much fun. You deserve a vacation, dude. I’m so jealous,” she said excitedly.

“Why don’t you come with us?” I asked. “You’ve already met Michael and you guys seem to have gotten along. Plus, it’ll be fun if we went on this trip together. It is a friendcation after all!” If (Y/F/N) came with me, I would ultimately feel so much better. She would help put me at ease having to see Luke and his soulmate together. I knew that I really needed to decide what I wanted to do with Luke. Tell him the truth or let it be? Despite me trying to deny it, I knew I still liked Luke. Having (Y/F/N) there with me would also help stop me from doing anything stupid, especially when there was a 100 percent chance tequila would be involved.

“I dunno, dude. I’d have to call off a whole week from work.” I saw her mind working as she tried to mull over the idea of going to Bali. “I wish Michael had asked you a month before and not a few weeks before they leave.”

I grabbed her shoulders and shook them. “(Y/F/N), PLEASE! There’s no way I can go on this trip without you! The hotel will be free because the boys are paying. I’ll pay for your plane ticket! C’MON!!!!!” I exclaimed.

“I’ll think about it…” she trailed off. I collapsed into my pillows and groaned in frustration.

“UGH. Why are you like this?” I sighed.

---

I eventually convinced (Y/F/N) to come on this trip with me. Her now fiancé wasn’t too happy about the fact that we were going on a vacation with a bunch of dudes, so he decided to tag along too. I was a little peeved, but at the same time, this entire trip was basically a couple’s trip. Me and Mikey, (Y/F/N) and her fiancé, Luke and his soulmate, Ashton and Cal with girls they met on tour, and a few of their band buddies and their girls. It was going to either be a giant party or a huge orgy... I was hoping it was the former instead of the latter.

When I told Mikey of our plans, he was so excited. I had called him the second I got the okay from my boss.

“Wait, really!? You can come?” He asked, excitedly. I laughed.

“Yes, Mikey! I can come with you to Bali!” I squealed. I could hear him jumping up and down in excitement. I had already started Pinteresting pics of Bali and things we could do and outfits I needed to buy for the trip. Michael was already sweet enough to cover my flight tickets and hotel rooms.

Now two weeks later, the boys were finally back. I was physically and emotionally prepping for this moment since Mikey had asked me to join them on their Bali trip. I had decided that after this trip, I was going to tell him the truth about my tattoo. I was scared, but he deserved to know. It gave me a lot of anxiety not knowing how he was going to react. I went too long not telling anyone and that is a mistake I regret making. If this backfires and he’s ends being upset, then I’m just going to have to face the consequences. I deserve that.

I was at work when I got a text from Michael.

HELLO, I AM BACK IN LA. WHERE ARE YOU AND WHY AREN’T YOU NEXT TO ME, the message read. I giggled.

I’m at work u idiot. I’m off at five pick me up for dinner? I responded.

LOL MY BAD YEAH I’LL COME GET YOU THEN

WHY ARE YOU YELLING I replied.

IDK IM REALLY EXCITED IM SORRY AJJDNEFAOIJDOAIH

I laughed. My little goofball. The laughter was soon gone the second I remembered what I planned to tell him after Bali. God, I couldn’t do this to him. How could I let myself be so stupid and drag this along? I shook it off. It’s fine. Less than a week till Bali, I can do this.

---

Luke’s POV

We were back in LA. We leave for Bali next week. I was excited to be back, but I was a wreck. The entire last days of tour, I thought I was going to be able to get (Y/N) off my mind, but the closer the date came to getting back to LA, the more I had dreams about her. She was taking up my entire brain and I hated it.

The second we landed I called up my soulmate. We got in a good fuck. She thought I just missed her, but deep down we both knew that this relationship had become purely sexual. If anything, she was a distraction. I felt awful for using her, but I felt worse thinking about (Y/N) with Michael. My life had suddenly turned into a live version of Jesse’s Girl. But since (Y/N’s) coming with us to Bali, I had to have something or someone to get her off my mind. We all know I do stupid shit, especially when there’s alcohol involved.

I tried to convince the guys to just make this a boy’s trip, but they all complained that they had already invited their girls to come with us. It was too late and I had to suck it up. As much as my soulmate and I had nothing to talk about anymore, at least we had something we could do with each other. Each day I spend with her, I realize how much we aren’t meant to be for each other. Coming back from tour and seeing her again in person confirmed that, even if the sex was great.

After my soulmate fell asleep, I put on a pair of sweatpants and walked to my balcony. I closed the door behind me and called my mum.

“Hey mum.”

“Hi sweetie! How was the flight?” She asked.

“Just fine, mum. We’re back in our LA house right now,” I said.

“Oh, that’s great! How are you? You sound down, baby.”

I sighed. My mum always knew something was up without me having to say anything about it. “I’m okay. Things could be better. I’m still so conflicted about my soulmate. She just doesn’t seem like the right girl.” I look through the glass doors to see my soulmate fast asleep on my bed, her bright red hair sprawled out around her, a huge contrast against the pearly white pillows I had. She seemed so quiet and innocent when she was asleep – completely opposite to how she was when she was awake.

“Honestly, Luke, the second you told me about her, I knew something was wrong. I know you wanted to give her a chance, but you sound miserable.”

“I know. I feel miserable. Do you remember that other girl I was telling you about?”

“Oh, yes! (Y/N)! The one dating Michael?” She asked.

“Yes, that’s her. I still think she may be my real soulmate, mum.”

“Luke, sweetheart, I’m only going to say this once because I’m your mum. Get your shit together. If you’re unhappy with your soulmate, then break up with her. Just because she may be your soulmate, it doesn’t mean you’re obligated to be with her. I want you to be happy, baby. But you can’t do that if you force yourself to love someone we all know you do not love.”

“What… Mum!?” I was shocked, my mum was never forward like this.

“I’m sorry, love. You’ve been calling me about this situation for weeks now. It’s been two months since you got your soul tattoo. I know you think that you’re going to have this great big love like your father and I - I’m more than sure you’ll have it soon, but clearly this woman who’s claiming to be your soulmate, isn’t making you happy and that’s fine. That just means she isn’t the one for you. Tell her how you feel. In the long run, you’ll both feel better about it.”

I was quiet for a moment. I hated that she was right. But all of what she said was true. I was too afraid to face how I really felt. I denied everything wrong with my soulmate because I thought it was right, because some unwritten rule somewhere said that I had to fall in love with my soulmate. It’s very rare, but sometimes these things just don’t work out. I had to face the facts one way or another.

Once I got off the phone with my mum, I went back to bed. I was so caught up with jet lag when we landed, but once in bed, I couldn’t sleep. I laid on my back, staring at the ceiling, just thinking. My soulmate was fast asleep next to me. I looked at her for a moment. She was beautiful and she was fun to be around sometimes, but deep down I knew she wasn’t my girl.

Hours later, I decided that after our trip to Bali, I was going to end things with her. I knew that that wasn’t how this whole soulmate shit is supposed to work, but I couldn’t bear another day being with her. I could tell that even the boys were starting to get irritated with her. They were just too scared or too nice to say anything to me about it. So that was the plan. Bali is in a few days. I just had to figure out how I was going to tell her and if I was going to confess my true feelings to (Y/N) after that.

---

yeeeeeet I finally gave you guys another part! I have to admit, I’m so freaking nervous about this. My heart is beating and my hands are shaking as I type this. I have written and edited and re-edited and re-re-edited this part and the following parts so many times. I knew that I couldn’t hold onto them anymore, so here it is. The only explanation I have for taking so long is this: life gets in the way and there’s nothing you can really do about it. Once time passed and I figured it was time to get back to this, a year had come and gone. I simply lost the inspiration to write. But here we are, two years later and I finally have the next 13 or so chapters ready for your eyes to read.

I hope you love it.

{r.h.}

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