#domestic!calum

[chamaleonsoul]

Home

Rating: G Word count: 1,144 Pairing: Luke Hemmings/Calum Hood Summary: With Luke’s arms wrapped around him, bodies fitting together from head to toe, warm, Calum can only be grateful to be home.

Read on AO3

[wiiildflowerrr]

@Calum5SOS, 15 August 2014

[lover-of-mine]

The way I'm writing the fluffiest thing ive ever written with hunger games playing on the other screen feels weird.

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝚇. 𝙼𝚊𝚢 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: POV switching, soft!Joel, protective!Joel, alarm clock!Joel, unlearning trauma responses, dicking down as a form of therapy, domestic fluff, self-worth anxieties, they're cute and weird together as usual | WORD COUNT: 4.1k

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: With the cloud of fear gone, you can finally see what's been in front of you the whole time.

It was the little things that stirred something in him. 

How you let him look after your nose until it had healed. How you used to only talk with Calum quietly, phone pressed hard against your ear, but then you started ambling around the house as you spoke a little less hushed and eventually on speaker, the both of you carrying on casually. Joel never asked to say hi, but you’d started seeking him out in the house to say hi to your brother over speakerphone.

Your eyes were a little less wide and startled now whenever the floorboards creaked as he walked into the room. You showered with the bathroom door open. You snuggled up naked against him every night, just for the comfort of warm skin against warm skin. You finally stopped fretting all the time about sitting down if he was up doing something.

It wasn’t the readily notable things that made Joel’s heart soar. It was all the small pieces that amassed and signaled your comfort and renascence. It had nearly been a month since you moved in, but it felt like you’d lived and shed lifetimes of existences in that short span – some hyperlapse of growth and dropping the things that weighed you down. Your belongings had been unpacked and given a place of their own amongst Joel’s things. The house was even starting to take on a little bit of your scent.

Joel felt like if he blinked it would all vanish in a second. He’d always seen resilience in you, but this was a new sort of strength you were trusting him with. The strength to let go and hand things over to someone else. To pass along some of that worry and fear and uncertainty to someone who wanted to shoulder it on your behalf for a little while. He could see the way you’d pause sometimes, like you were about to hold your tongue or insist on handling something yourself, and then take a deep breath and let him lead the way. It served as a way for your brain to just be able to turn off. No heightened awareness. No decision making. No worrying. Just a calm, quiet nothing.

Before you, he’d never thought that gifting someone with nothingness was much of a gift at all. But now you’d sink into that safe little place in your mind and not have a worry, and suddenly he very much understood what he was capable of giving you – understanding just how much of himself he could offer.

You hadn’t even made a fuss when all the packages of clothes got delivered. He’d wondered if it was too invasive to take pictures of the tags on your more faded, worn clothing and have Sarah find something similar but new. He admitted what he’d done, not wanting to hide anything from you, and you’d responded with a little grin. “Never had a personal stylist before,” you’d deadpanned. He was beyond relieved you hadn’t taken it as an insult or controlling or strange. 

In fact, it was him who had the first big feeling of reluctance on anything concerning the nature of your relationship. You were still healing, discolored bruising midway through fading, when you’d initiated sex. It threw him off, to say the least. Here you were, in an impromptu living arrangement, practically dependent on him for money, food, shelter, and everything in between. As much as he wanted that side of your relationship again, it left him feeling a bit gross to want it when you were still coming back from that harrowing experience with your dad. Wasn’t it inherently predatory to continue with a physical relationship with all that still in the air? You’d said you wanted to share a room and a bed, but this was something else entirely.

What if you felt obligated? Like you somehow owed him for the compassion and kindness he’d shown you? Was he putting off an air of expectation? Your options were limited in terms of independence, and he couldn’t quite shake the guilty feeling that clouded him. That was, until you’d made him look you square in the eye when you said, “I think right now – maybe more right now than I ever have in my life – I just need to feel loved. Like somebody wants me. And cares about me. I wanna feel like you feel that for me.”

The urge to pour every ounce of love into you right then and there, however you needed it, coursed through every fiber of his being. When you followed up with a soft little “please, Joel?”, that was it. He was more gentle with you than he probably needed to be, but you didn’t seem to mind it. He took his time now that he had it. And god did it feel good to love you unrushed.

Something wet, warm, and insistent building between your legs is the first thing your bleary mind registers. The gentle scratch of facial hair at the crux of your thighs comes through as your eyes flutter open. The fuzzy red numbers on the dresser clock come into focus and display a time that is well past when you should’ve already been awake.

A low, throaty moan floats up from halfway down the bed, and Joel’s firm grip on your hips is ensuring your slick, wet heat stays fused to his feverish mouth. His tongue rolls over your pearled nub and presses against it firmly, and suddenly you’re very awake.

“Joel?” you say in a breathy, sluggish whimper.

“Mmmmpphhh,” comes his muffled, self-satisfied response.

Now that you’re awake, he apparently feels like he doesn’t need to hold back any longer. He doubles down on his efforts and greedily mouths and tongues at your drooling center. Your legs fall apart to make way for him, and he seizes the opportunity to get closer and deeper.

“Oh fu– Oh my god,” you gasp. “Joel, we’re–we’re gonna be late.”

There’s no real conviction in your words, but you still want to entertain the guise that you’re being responsible. He makes some disagreeable noise and keeps going. You prop yourself up to properly see him, and his wild eyes meet yours. He doesn’t look away while he laps and spits and sucks. Your face screws up at the sight of him, something obscene in the way he unapologetically devours you. When he slips two thick fingers inside, you fall back with a loud moan. His responding grunt reverberates through your budding arousal. Maybe being late was okay – just this once.

“Can you go faster?” you croak.

He suctions harder and pumps quicker, and you’re already on the precipice. Your hands fly to his hair, searching for something to hold onto as you’re catapulted into bliss. One wet suck on your clit is all it takes to send you over, and the room is filled with the wet sounds of Joel’s efforts and your breathy little whines as you fall apart. You’re only halfway back down to earth when he’s scrambling to his knees and pumping himself over your bare torso. You’re quick to take him into both hands, his own flying to the headboard for leverage as he leans over you, and stroke with a steady rhythm. 

He’s rambling garbled nonsense as he spurts all over your lower belly, finally crashing down on top of you and pulling you flush against him. Little puffs of humid breaths coast against the skin of your neck where his mouth lazes slack, supple kisses. His lips have laid a repetitive path there, and part of you knows it's some sort of penance for there ever having been violence placed upon it. Like over time and with enough effort he can undo whatever ghosts of harm still remain. He cherishes the place where your breaths flow and your voice lives.

You find your voice now, a wooly, amused little thing, and tell him good morning. He chuckles against you, his body rocking gently with content.

“Good mornin’ to you, too, sweetheart.”

“A very good morning, I think,” you stress. “Well, as long as we’re not super late.”

“I’m on pretty good terms with the boss. I’ll put in a good word for us if we need it,” he chortles.

You playfully slap his shoulder and shake your head. He was so much more relaxed these days, and it didn’t seem like it was just because he was in his own home. Something about having you close seemed to lift a weight off him. Even though he hadn’t known all the depth of what you’d been going through, it had apparently still come to his attention in some way or another – some subconscious awareness that you weren’t doing okay. You tried not to dwell on the guilt that brought, knowing you’d caused him so much distress.

Joel between your legs was a pretty damn good alarm clock. It had been a little strange at first not plugging a wake up time into your phone, but it quickly became a routine of Joel waking up before you, getting your coffee started, and heading back upstairs with it for you to drink in bed for a few minutes. On a few occasions he’d wake you like he did this morning, mouth and hands and body pressing into yours and making you come alive before he made you come undone.

He peppers you with kisses and compliments and eventually reminds you that you’ve got to get into the shower in the next few minutes unless you want to be running around crazy to get out the door on time. He slips into the shower for no more than five minutes and gets dressed before heading downstairs. You amble into the bathroom and angle the handheld shower head against the wall before stepping into the stall. You hadn’t asked him to install it. He’d just set up one day and worked it into the existing system. He didn’t make any mention of a reason for the change when he demonstrated to you how to operate it, but you knew. That first night and that triggering shower spray of water into your nose and mouth. It had been enough for him to alter the environment for your comfort and peace of mind.

The scent of coffee drifts from downstairs as you towel off. You slip on the softest t-shirt you’ve ever felt in your life and pair it with a fitted pair of jeans. You really have to figure out a way to thank Sarah for sourcing all these new clothes for you. It was a relief that she didn’t seem to have any sort of issue with you dating and now living with her dad. You’d said hello a few times when Joel happened to be chatting on the phone with her, but you hold onto the hope that maybe one day you can get to know her better.

“It’s gonna be a granola bar for breakfast sorta mornin’,” he announces as he strolls into the bathroom where you’re brushing your teeth. “Gonna grab a few for the ride.” His soft, warm palm rubs a few passes along your spine. He gives the side of your head a quick peck and heads back downstairs.

Your coffee, complete with its “disgusting caramel bullshit” as Joel likes to say, sits on the kitchen counter in a to-go cup. Joel calls from the front door for you to grab your lunches he packed. “Yes, chef!” you call back in a sing-song tone. Him taking over kitchen duties was certainly something you still weren’t used to. He wouldn’t even let you clear the dishes, let alone wash them. He’d allowed you to cook something a time or two, but only after you’d put your foot down and told him you really wanted to.

You felt guilty a lot of the time just basking in all of this love and care, but for Joel’s sake you held your tongue. It certainly wasn’t a bad thing to have to get used to, and it was undeniable that it made him happy.

“Hi, beautiful,” he hums as he opens the truck door for you. 

You smile and drop your cup into the holder of the console and lean to the side to tuck away the lunches. When you stand up straight again and grab the door for leverage to get into the truck, Joel holds you still for a moment and presses a soft kiss to the nape of your neck.

“You smell so good,” he groans.

“If you keep this up, we’re never gonna get to work,” you half-heartedly chide him.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he laughs back.

You snort and haul yourself up into your seat. Joel closes the door and doubles back to lock the front door. You crunch through several bites of the granola bar until you make it to a red light. Red lights had become a time where you held hands until the light turned green again. You’re not sure how it started or who started it, but it was just how things were now. Better. Consistent. Affectionate. You cover his knuckles with your palm and caress over each little ridge. The light changes, and you go back to eating your breakfast until the next red light.

You didn’t know it could be like this. He’d always been kind and caring and considerate, but you hadn’t ever been in a sustained sense of calm to truly absorb it. It was a complete sweep to your nervous system. It wasn’t just how he openly forbid you from messing with the dishes or even the dishwasher. He was upfront about it, no stepping on eggshells for fear of setting you off on a defensive eschewal. “Last time you tried it, it was too upsettin’ for you. You aren’t gonna punish yourself. You’re not gonna push yourself like that.”

And instead of the shame for not being able to override the triggers, you accepted it. He was right: it was too much right now. It wasn’t helpful to you or your healing to push yourself. Rather than crumble into yourself, you spoke up and asked what you could do instead. You, too, were upfront about it, how you needed to feel like you weren’t dead weight around the house – a burden.

“Find some options of somethin’ to watch. Read me the synopsis or whatever. We can pick what we wanna watch that way.”

So, you sat at the kitchen table most nights reading up on possible movies or shows while he cleared the dishes and loaded them up. When you snuggle up on the couch together after dinner, Joel almost always talks through the first 10 minutes of it. On the occasion that whatever you picked not being that good, you end up flipping through the TV channels while Joel tries and fails to stay awake. He holds you, nuzzles you. Clingy and endearing and protective.

You know it’s time to head upstairs, and you gently nudge him awake. He grumbles “5 more minutes,” snuggles you closer, and sometimes even pouts when you insist that it really is time to head upstairs. He checks all the locks, brings you both up some water, brushes his teeth next to you. He tells you how soft you are when he gets snuggle up against you again when you finally make it to bed.

It was a strange new world, knowing what to expect every day. The same familiar comfort of his company. The easy way you fit right into his home life, like he’d just been waiting to prove to you how much you were meant to be here. You wonder if one day the memories of your past life will begin to fade, leaving you like the bruises on your body all yellowing their way to nothingness.

“Ahhhh, just look at that,” he rasps. “Look how perfect you look takin’ this dick.”

You follow his call and glance up to catch your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Foot up on the counter. Joel’s forearm slung across your chest, hand cupped on your shoulder for leverage, while the other holds your thigh to keep your leg angled open. He fucks you from behind so you can both watch how you come undone for him.

“Never seen anything prettier than this.”

You note the blown out pupils and general hazy focus of yourself in the mirror. He’s right. It’s intoxicating to watch him, yourself, and where you’re connected.

“First one to ever open you up like this, and look at her. Just suckin’ it in like she’s starved. Fuckin’ hungry for this cock.”

You brace your hands on the edge of the counter, against his forearm, leaning into the mirror. Anywhere for something to steady yourself while he takes you hard and fast. Just like you asked. Just like you needed. All the nerves and doubts from a half hour ago feel like a far echo in the past. 

“Never even took a cock before this and look how good you do it,” he praises into your ear. “So fuckin’ good at just takin’ all of this, chokin’ it so tight—”

He lets out a deep rumbling groan, clearly getting caught up in his own dirty mouth. You loved seeing him like this, unrestrained and raw. Free to be less gentle with you, treat you like you weren’t some fragile thing moments away from fracturing into a million pieces. Ever since you moved into the safety of his home – the safety of his arms – all guards went by the wayside, all worry about saying or doing the wrong thing forgotten. You were both free now to confront all the unsightly and tangled parts of yourselves. All the ugly imperfections of your insecurities, worries, and shortcomings. All laid out bare for the other to acknowledge and decide it didn’t matter because the affection and devotion didn’t change despite these things coming to light.

“— But you’re my good girl, so of course you’re gonna take it so perfect for me, huh? Proud of my good girl takin’ all this cock all up in her guts.”

You reach between your legs to rub yourself, and Joel groans, “Fuck yeah. Can feel you gettin’ tighter. Lemme have it, baby. Lemme fuckin’ have it.”

Your body goes rigid with the force of it, a loud sound tearing from your throat, and you begin to shiver at the aftershocks. You fall limp against the counter and sigh heavily as you feel the hot bands of his spend shooting over the globes of your ass. It had all happened so fast you were glad that at least one of you remembered to pull out since you hadn’t stopped to use a condom.

A dopey smile spreads across your face when you feel him lean closer and hum a little sound of satisfaction and fatigue. Little whispers of how beautiful you are and how lucky he is. He starts the shower up, and you cock a self-assured eyebrow at him when you switch it to the overhead instead of the handheld he’d installed for you. Maybe if you’d been in here alone you would’ve used the shorter one, but Joel’s body pressed up against yours signaled to your brain that you were okay. You were safe here. You could bask in the aftermath of your physical intimacy and extend the dreamy bubble just a little longer as you held close to one another, giving little kisses here and there, washing each other’s hair.

There was no pounding pulse in your ears. No tight gut. No general unease. Just a gossamer of contentedness in perpetuity. He helped you choose between the two casual dresses Sarah had bought online for you. A pretty light blue wrap dress with fluttery sleeves. The brown, flat sandals felt a bit silly to wear, but it certainly looked like something that would make sense with the dress. Joel matched a simple button down and gray slacks, the cuffs rolled up against his forearms and the top buttons left open. You followed a YouTube tutorial on the simplest low bun you could find, and Joel opted for a light gelled look for himself.

“You sure I should drive in these things?” you fret.

You wiggle your foot to draw Joel’s attention. He tilts his head and says you’ll do just fine. He’s been teaching you to drive in earnest, and even quick trips to the store or to grab some dinner have made your confidence on the road grow like crazy. Driving in something other than slip ons or sneakers, however, was new, but neither were really appropriate for a graduation ceremony.

Kenzie’s graduation today was what had spurred this morning’s bout of insecurities and shame about not being as far ahead in life as you “should be.” You wanted to support your friend, but you couldn’t deny that you felt embarrassed in a lot of ways to be attending a celebration of people years younger than you who had their shit together with a degree to show for it. Joel had let you air out your thoughts and feelings but put a stop to it once you waded into “I feel like a loser sometimes” territory. 

He’d pointed out the hand you’d been dealt and what you’d managed to do with it, especially being able to hold onto kindness despite it all. It’s what had drawn him to you in the first place, that natural warmth and helpfulness he saw every time he came into the store to buy those lemonades. He stressed that those are the sorts of things people can’t really be taught. You avoided a pity party for yourself, but you still couldn’t completely shake the feelings of inadequacy. Joel fell back on what had been most effective as of late to shirk the bad mood entirely, and that’s what eventually got you bent over the bathroom counter.

You manage to drive without incident to the convention center where the graduation is being held. You walk arm in arm with Joel and feel steady on your feet. He finds you some seats and wraps an arm around the back of your chair, allowing for you to lean into him for the duration of the ceremony. Kenzie looks like a supermodel walking the stage, even from where you’re sat several sections back. You jump up and cheer with genuine excitement.

“Ooooohhhhhh! Oh my god. Lemonade Daddy is here?!” Kenzie squeals when you meet up with her outside. “Fuck, he looks good,” she gushes to you as if Joel weren’t standing right in front of her, looking a touch embarrassed at the compliments.

“He does, doesn’t he?” you agree, giving him a playful nudge that makes him roll his eyes and grin.

You take photos with her and even let her take a dozen of you and Joel together. Joel flushes even worse when Kenzie and her fellow graduate friends all gush over how cute he is, giggling excitedly over what a great catch you’ve got and how good you two look together.

“You got a brother? A cousin? A nephew??” one of them probes.

Kenzie isn’t quiet for long enough to let Joel answer, although you’re not entirely sure he’s upset about that at all, and simply tells him that if he does then he needs to bring them along to her graduation party in a couple of weeks. Joel’s eyes slide over to you in a silent question, and you smile shyly back at him.

“Oh. Yeah. I already RSVP’d us,” you inform him.

“Sounds like a great time,” he says without missing a beat. “We wouldn’t wanna miss it!”

You beam up at him and press a little kiss to the scruff of his beard. Kenzie’s dad shows up and chats with Joel for a little bit, and you overhear Joel mentioning he could “take a look at it when we come for the party.” You smile to yourself at him always managing to get caught up in contracting stuff one way or another.

You drive home and sling your fancy sandals off your feet the moment you get through the door. Joel laughs and shakes his head before picking them up and putting them neatly in the organizer just by the front hallway. It warms something in your chest to see him take your silliness in stride, not admonishing you for being messy or being annoyed that he had to clean up after you.

Always patient. Always kind. You wonder just how many things  you would have excelled at if only someone like him had always been in your life. There was no way to go back in time and know, of course, but the promise of what the future with Joel held was a damn good second chance.

tagging:

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@favorite-fan-fic @confusedpuffin @fishingforpike @lavema @drunk-and-capable

[jakeysbuttsheeks]

Fall into you

Warnings: domestic abuse, violence, angst toxic relationship, adult content, language, profanity , cheating , soft Jake

Word count: 2k

Parings: Jake X fem reader

"dont fucking make me beat the shit out of you like I did last night. Tell me where the fuck you went!" your boyfriend, calum spat in your face , gripping your arm too tight for your liking.

Calum was the sweetest any guy had ever treated you . But he was sick . He'd get into this mood where he'd be a completely different person , yell at you and hit you even .

Last night it got bad and you ran out after he bruised your cheek and cut your lip open , you had the red marks of his nails digging into you at different parts of your body like your arms and neck .

You left to stay at a hotel and you came back to get your things and finally leave him. But to your suprise he was at home and obviously wasn't going to let you leave again.

"Calum you're hurting me-" your voice breaks as you try to slip your hand out of his grip but he only twists your arm tighter , making tears swell up in your eyes.

"what the fuck are you packing your shit up for?" He asked ,this eyes looking at the bag with all your things behind you on the bed.

"I can't do this anymore Calum" you cry , trying not to fight back because you knew that only makes him worse .

"do what?" He softened his voice , but his gaze still furious as his eyes shifted from your eyes to your lips .

"be with you! I can't be with you anymore!" You cry out , he still wouldn't let go of your arm as he pulled you in closer .

"you're leaving me?" He asks , his tone dripping in sadness.

You couldn't answer as he pressed his lips against your gently , apologetically. He loosened his grip on your arm and you melted into the kiss. It was times like this that you cherished him. You did love him. He was an awfully handsome man with a kind heart . you convinced yourself to look at the good parts over the bad because you thought you didn't deserve any better.

"I'm sorry" he breaks away from you , his eyes teary , he cupped your cheek and caressed his thumb over your bruised cheekbone and you melted into his hand as tears streamed down your face.

"I'm so sorry love" he whispers in strain as he kisses away your tears and pulls you into a hug .

"let me make it up to you. Please don't leave me . If you need a change or something let me take you out tonight" he pleads , his voice wavering.

You nod , giving into him . You knew you'd miss him if you left anyway. And he was right . A change of scene would be better. And he said he was sorry too.

He spent the day sweetly caressing you and keeping you close , no yelling and no getting physical.

You almost forgot you had the horrible purple bruise and swollen lip . You were remind when you dressed up that night to go out with him.

You covered it up with slight make up and lipstick, hoping no one would notice the claw marks. You dressed up pretty and left with calum .

There was a bar you and calum were regulars at . The drinks were cheap and the music was perfect . It was your spot .

The two of you walking in and greeted the bartender before ordering your drinks. You had this weird sensation of someone watching as calum spoke to you about something you couldn't careless about.

You turned and looked behind you , trying see if anyone had there eyes in you.

"y|n- are you listening" calum interrupted and you quickly looked back at him and nodded before he continued off .

For once it felt like there was a stronger energy in the room other than calum. Usually you wouldn't bother about anyone or anything around as long as calum was with you . But the air felt different. Like there was someone else stealing the spotlight.

You paid zero to no attention to anything calum was talking to you about and lost interest completely when the band started playing.

One of your favourite songs , you met eyes with the guitarist as he started the first few notes of the song.

"hey Adam?" You call out to the bartender, your eyes not leaving the little stage in the bar.

"yeah?" He calls back as he's busy making a drink for someone.

"who are they?" You ask , pointing to the band . Because usually they'd just be a guy or a girl up there singing or doing something small . But this was a full out band and they sounded too good to be playing in a place like this.

"Greta Van fleet. Some band from Michigan" Adam answers nonchalantly.

"I was talking to you" calum says in tone too deep for your liking and you immediately feel yourself sink down into the floor and wither away as you met eyes with him . He had that furious look in his eyes and you gulped .

"I'm sorry. It's just- they sounded too good- I-" you stutter .

"it's alright" he says , his tone back to calm . And he starts talking again , continuing what he was saying. But you had your ears on the band , tapping your foot to the rythem.

Calum eventually shut up and got lost in the band's music as well . The whole bar did . They were cheering them on . But what almost threw you off your seat was the way the guitarist kept looking at you .

Was he the strong presence you were feeling before?

Your heart almost melted when the corners of his lips curled up into a cheeky smile , his eyes directly on your as he teased his guitar. You couldn't help but and blush and smile back at him.

"okay what the fuck is going on here?!" Calum snapped and you flinched at the sudden action of him slamming his empty glass on the counter and getting of his seat .

"w- calum-?" You stutter in confusion as he walked through the crowd, approaching the little stage the band was on.

The guitarist met eyes with you for a second as he looked at calum with confusion.

"shut the fuck up" calum yelled as he grabbed the guitarist's wire and wrenched it out of his guitar , causing a loud shrill before the band stopped .

The guitarist set his guitar down and looked like he was ready to throw hands at calum for that as calum got on the stage .

"calum stop!" You scream as he grabs the guitarist's collar .

"get this sick fuck off the stage we don't need him fucking ogling at my girl and flaunting his shit up here" calum yelled at the bartender who was equally panicked and confused.

"WHOA WHOA WHAT'S GOING ON" the other band members dropped their instruments and came over .

"calum what the fuck!?" You yell as you try to wrench him away from the poor guitarist but he shoved you away making you trip back.

"hey! Don't handle her like that!" The guitarist snapped , radiating the same energy as calum .

"don't fucking tell me how to treat my fucking girlfriend!" Calum smashes his fist across the guitarist face. And it seemed to have unleashed some sort of anger that the guitarist had been fighting back .

"Jake no!" One of the band members yells at him before he could immediately punch calum back .

"STOP IT!" you scream as they violently wrestle eachother around the stage and started lashing out at the eachother.

The guitarist knocked calum off the stage as he fell onto a flimsy table and broke it . Calum immediately got back up and punched the guy across his face again . But the guitarist was quick to throw his fists into calum's stomach making him fold.

The guitarist basically had calum pinned down to the floor as he punched him .

The other members of the band tore the guitarist away and tried to hold back calum with you .

"take this shit outside!" The owner of the bar yelled . People were filming and you were honestly so embarrassed .

Calum had blood oozing from his mouth and a black eye but he still wanted to fight that damned guitarist. And you couldn't hold him back long enough.

The guitarist had a bleeding nose and a bruised cheek and a violent stare .

"woah man cut the shit!" One of the band guys stopped calum from coming back up to Jake.

"calum stop it please" you pleaded as you grabbed his arm and held him back.

He landed a back handed slap across your face , making you fall back and immediately let go of him as he barged back to Jake who was ready to throw hands again .

"I'm gonna call the fucking cops!" The owner warned but he was ignored.

"are you alright?" One of the band guys asked as he held your shoulder.

"calum" you mutter under your breath as you tried to stop the two again.

The two guys brutally hitting eachother, enough to cause serious damages as the band guys kept trying to pull them apart .

The guitarist wouldn't give in till calum was passed out . He was finally torn away from calum as he lay on the floor half consious.

"are you okay? Do you know him?" The guitarist asks you , breathing heavily.

"he's my- he was-" You breakdown as you try to find an answer.

"shit your bleeding" he says as his hand comes up to touch your face , his fingers barely touch your jaw as you move away.

"sorry" he apologizes immediately. But you couldn't help but find comfort in his presence. The fact that you knew he was stronger than calum but you just knew he'd never use any of that strength on you .

But with calum it was obvious he was a violent person. He tried to be good but he just couldn't.

For the first time you felt safe . Safe with a man you didn't even know . Safe when your boyfriend was beaten to the ground by him. P

"my name's Jake" he said , realising that he came out to strong when you barely knew him .

"is he your boyfriend?" Jake asks. You nod tearfully.

"I'm sorry I beat him up. He shouldn't have hit you" Jake said apologetically.

"thank you" you rush out , like a call for help. And you see a spark in his eyes.

He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the sound of cop cars .

"shit! Sam did we get all our stuff?!" Jake yells as he walks away from you to the exit of the bar.

"yeah get in the car the cops are here!" One of the guys yelled back as he walked out.

"do you want a drop home or-" Jake asked softly, waiting for you to answer.

You looked at calum passed out on the floor , he was gonna wake up any second. And what next after that ? He would just beat you up . Maybe this was a sign. Maybe Jake was here to save you.

"yeah" it rushed out of you as the sound of police cars get louder.

He grabs your hand and quickly walks out of the place and pulls you into a busky van with him in the back seat . it smelt comforting. Even tho it was the dead of night and you were in a van with a bunch of strangers , you felt warm and comforted. And finally safe .

"which way love?" Jake asks .

'love' it came out of him like he said it out of habit. Calum never called you anything of the sort . It was either your name or 'babe'.

The question made you realise how you actually had no where to go . You could barely afford your own apartment when you met calum. And then you sold it and moved in with him after. You had no family or friends in this town , you kept to yourself alot. You were truely alone . It made you cry .

"it's alright love you're safe now. We're nice people" one of the guys turn around in his seat to look back at you , you recollected him as the singer .

"at least we're nice people, I donno about Jake , lashing out like that" the singer said , giving Jake a death glare like he was scolding him .

"hey! You saw how he treated her" Jake said, putting his hands up in defence.

"oh yeah? That doesn't mean you go all crazy and get us kicked out of-" the singer argued but was interrupted by another band member you remembered to be the drummer .

"alright cut it out both of you" he yelled as he drove the van , looking back at y'all from the rearview mirror.

"do you really have nowhere to go uhh-" the drummer stopped mid sentence when he realised he didn't know you name.

"y|n" you said . You heard Jake murmur your name under his breath , thinking you couldn't hear him .

"do you really have nowhere to go y|n?" The drummer asked. And you shook your head in embarrassment. You almost regretted getting into the van with them .

"you can stay over with us- I mean we have a guest room , with a lock- or I could get you a hotel room" Jake spoke nervously. And you immediately shook your head.

"just drop me off at the nearest hotel . I'll be fine" you say , you voice stuffy from your blocked nose.

"don't be absurd! We couldn't possibly leave a woman who's bleeding and scared at some hotel room like that!" The other guy yelled , the bassist. Almost like it made him angry.

"Sam's right . Do you wanna stay over ? We're safe people" the drummer says with honesty as he drove cautiously.

"I don't wanna be a bother-" before you could even finish your sentence the singer protested.

"a bother!? Don't be stupid!" He snaps .

"are you sure?" You ask softly.

"of course!" "Hell yeah" "definitely" they answer together in unison.

"come stay with us . I promise were nice people" the singer adds .

"fuck off Josh you're scaring her! Who the fuck says that to someone like that?" Jake pushed the singer's shoulder.

"what!? I'm being nice and she knows it!" Josh snaps at Jake and then looks at you in concern . You almost giggle at them . Their presence was so comfortable.

"alright if I'm not a bother" you answer and the boys protest at you for saying the word 'bother' .

Your mood is already much better as the van pulls up into the driveway to a nice warm looking house .

They got out and carried their equipment and instruments in , Jake helped you into the house before closing the door after you .

You felt like a misplacement for a second as they put their equipment away and took their shoes off . But after they were done they brought their attention right back to you .

"oh poor thing . Let me get something for that bleeding lip" the drummer says before he scurries off . You touch your lip and find it wet , unaware that it was bleeding.

"I'm Sammy" the bassist says as he reached his hand out for you to shake.

"and I'm josh at you're service" the singer says with a slight bow making you smile .

The drummer came back with a first aid box .

"and I'm Daniel. The only thing that can keep these assholes from killing eachother" the drummer said with a kind smile .

"come sit down" Josh said like an excited child when their favourite uncle comes to visit.

"we're siblings by the way , if you couldn't tell" Jake says , offering you a glass of water .

"oh thanks you" you say as you scan the four faces and take the glass from him.

"all of them except me of course" Daniel adds .

"aw come on don't say that! We may not be brothers by blood but we're brothers damnit" Sam said like he was offended , you giggled , Forgetting the whole scene that had happened in the bar.

"do you mind?" Daniel asked as he sat down next to you with a alcohol swab in his hand .

You open your mouth to answer but you shake your head instead, blushing in embarrassment.

He wiped your lip with the swab and you hiss. You met eyes with Jake who was staring between the two of you in pure jealousy and you blush harder .

"alright there you go" Daniel said , purely respecting you and not eyeing you up in anyway.

"fatass you're next" Daniel says as he walks over to Jake .

Jake rolls his eyes and stays put as Daniel wipes all the blood of his nose and mouth, and then tending to any open wounds . Your heart melts at the intimacy of them . It felt good to know there was good people in the world.

You felt like you didn't deserve them . They were too kind to you . No one had ever been. You grew up with egoistic parents that always put you down and never let you think you were worth loving. And your friends had crossed you one too many times for you to trust again.

The boys had gone off to bed after showing you the guest room .

Once you were alone with your thoughts you broke down . Thinking of what was to happen now . How could you go back to face calum ? What about your things in his house ? You should've left when you had the chance .

There was a knock at your door and you startled up , quickly wiping your face and sniffing in your snot before answering.

"it's open!" You answer, slightly panicked that you were a bother by using this room .

"I got you clothes for you to change into . You couldn't possibly sleep in those . And the bathroom is just down the hall feel free to use it" Jake says as he stood by your door , not daring to come in and invade your personal space .

"thank you" you say in overwhelm. You quickly got off the bed and headed to the door to take the clothes from him . And he noticed you were crying.

"hey uh-" he starts as you put the clothes on your bed .

"are you alright?" He asks comfortingly, his eyes looking at you simpathically .

You didn't answer. You had so much to say and You didn't know what to tell him , your eyes tears up and your heart clenched and you saw him tense up thinking he shouldn't have asked.

"I'm here if you need anything- we're here- so just let us know okay?" He says quickly, reaching for the door knob to close the door .

"jake-" you call , stopping him . He looked at with concern, waiting for you to talk .

"can you-" your voice broke . You felt empty and stranded .

"can you hold me?" You let out a sob and he immediately slips his hand from the door and strides up to you and hugs you , wasting no time .

You ball up his shirt in your fists as you sob into his chest.

"shh it's alright" he soothes, petting your hair gently and holding you close butnot too tightly to make you uncomfortable even tho you were holding him tight .

You sob harder , letting everything out. It was like he was a saviour. The comfort he offered you was immense and you couldn't believe it .

"you're alright doll" he hums . Even tho you barely know him , and he had you so close to him in his own house , he still treated you respectfully , held you respectfully.

You sniffle and break away to look at him , noticing you had made his shirt damp from your tears .

"fuck" you whine as you rubbed your hand on his chest to try to take off as much of the snot as you could .

"I don't mind it's alright" he smiles.

"I'm sorry" you ignore him as you keep wiping the snot off and he holds your wrist gently stopping you.

"it's okay y|n" he says , looking into your eyes and you blushed hearing your name from his mouth out loud for the first time.

You let go of him and he moves away from you , still smiling at you .

"I'll be in my room if you need me alright?" Jake says sweetly as he walked over to the door .

You look down and blush at the interaction with him as he leaves .

"oh by the way" he stops just before he could close the door.

"I wasn't 'ogling' at you on stage, I just thought you looked pretty" he said giving you a wider smile before he left , closing the door behind him .

Your face was heated and your heart was racing. The way he held you and cradled your head , petting your hair and muttering sweet comforts to you like you were the most delicate thing after brutally beating up your boyfriend well, ex now . And the fact that all you knew about him was his name his brothers and that he played guitar.

There might be a part 2

[orangeinecstasy]

ʚ masterlist ɞ

requests: open

✦ : inhaler

robert keating

one word: part one, part two

the strokes

halloween party

ryan mcmahon

cup of music: part one, part two

about you

ryan bf thoughts

elijah hewson

pool party: part one, part two

creative writing

josh jenkinson

film fest

✦ : 5 Seconds of Summer

luke hemming

relax nsfw

luke bf thoughts nsfw section

pretty boy

calum hood

bf calum thoughts, part two: nsfw

cherry cola: part one. part two. part three. part four. part five. part six. final. (Hiatus)

ashton irwin

bf ashton thoughts nsfw section

micheal clifford

coming soon

✦ : the 1975

matty healy

bf thoughts nsfw section

blurb; domestic matty

ross macdonald

bf thoughts nsfw section

george daniel

coming soon

adam hann

coming soon

[solstitios]

yoooo! i'm rocket (she/her) and this is my manic pixie boy... man... pyro? idiot? callum, who is absolutely named after calum hood from 5sos i have a few pages up for him at the moment but this post may be better served regarding initial interesting in plotting! i do prefer d*scord for plotting just an fyi; feel free to like this post and i'll send you a dm to connect! ♡

tw: mentions of domestic/physical/familial abuse, accidental death

yes he DID forget how to speak korean when he got to ansong. yes he spent a week literally not being able to understand/read anything around him (this would be a fun plot for anyone who has a muse who speaks eng!) and i don't know how he did it. but one day he woke up and he could just suddenly understand everything again so he's ok now

is from sydney but doesn't remember that now. there's a picture of the sydney opera house on one of his mementos

came from a household with a very strict father and mother with little backbone; as the older son he was always being pressured to be amazing by his dad and would get hit when he didn't meet his father's standards (and then really started acting out as a result, but we'll get to that)

SUPER IMPORTANT TO KNOW: callum has a sister who is 2 years younger named callie and they were super close and i would love if someone brought her to the rp hello 2nd muse idea for y'all !!!

so once his dad really started laying on the trauma lol, callum began his rebellious era — literally just saying fuck all to his grades at school, hanging out with shitty people, getting involved with things he really shouldn't have

got arrested at 17 the spring before his high school graduation, father knew people in the city to get them to let him off with a smack on the wrist but nearly got his ass beat

father banished him to go live with his uncle in korea for the next decade. had a really hard time adjusting at first because his korean sucked. did some odd jobs, tutored english, wanted to be a cop but he couldn't because he wasn't technically a citizen so he actually started training to willingly enlist in the korean military

this happening while he was visiting aus for his bday: he just turned 27 this august so right before his frontal cortex stopped growing he thought it would be a great idea to set off illegal fireworks while was rly drunk with his friends... yeah ok buddy. ends up, i shit you not, "dumb ways to die" accidentally k*lls himself AND HIS SISTER with the fireworks striking them both. i swear this was more tragic when i was first conceptualizing him but writing this out now it's so stupid fjkdhfjkgf

except now on the bright side, he's dead but gets to be a firefighter! oh the irony

persona

personality wise he's like a pretty cool dude. fun to chill with. really likes fires. is calm and cool and that friend that always knows the right thing to say except he's got a lot of demons in him that keep him in his head a lot but is so frustrated because he can't even figure out what the demons are. loves his job. super into fitness and staying in shape. makes lists for everything. slightly neurotic. really wants to get a dog. left-handed. may come across as hard to read at times. nolan fanboy. good taste in memes but bad tiktok taste. only dresses in black/gray/neutrals outside of his work uniform. surprisingly makes banger charcuterie boards

tl;dr

childhood traumatized man accidentally k*lls himself and his sister

potential plots

someone who goes to the same boxing gym as him and maybe they have beef about something pretty juvenile? LMAO

one of your kitchen appliances catches on fire and you're too scared/embarrassed to call 119 so instead you run down to the third floor and make callum handle it instead

someone to go with him to one of the events posted on the community bulletin!!!

for females: callum meets you for the first time and when he does he gets deja vu. he feels like he's met you before (it's all his subconscious trying to push out his memory of his sister callie)

for males: someone younger he treats like an older brother (again, his subconscious longing for his sister)

[dangerously-human]

I was tagged by @mademoiseli, @mrgartist, and @saxifrage-wreath for two different 10 songs games, one asking for 10 songs I've been listening to a lot lately and one asking for 10 songs that come up when I put my music on shuffle. So I decided to combine them by shuffling my Spotify On Repeat playlist.

1. Waking Up - We the Kingdom (Lockwood & Co playlist, captures the vibe of hope over despair and death over life as well as specifically the feeling of coming back from the Other Side - "I am alive in the land of the living" sung as victorious, love it!)

2. Told You So - The Band CAMINO (Guaranteed a spot in my Spotify Wrapped, favorite TBC banger)

3. Dancing on My Own (Tiësto Remix) - Calum Scott (Red October was fun while it lasted)

4. Can't Leave the Night - BADBADNOTGOOD (Lockwood & Co playlist, bangin' choice for a theme song)

5. Groceries - Mallrat (Lockwood & Co playlist, impeccable domestic fluff vibes, listened to for at least an hour straight for reasons of my latest flash fiction prompt response)

6. Haunted - The Band CAMINO (Lockwood & Co playlist... Are we sensing a theme... Speaking of, theme song and title source for Living With the Ghost of You)

7. BREAKFAST - half•alive (Look at that, more Lockwood & Co playlist, fantastic Locklyle song that makes me Feel Things about vulnerability and the push-pull of letting someone see you as you really are, thematic for more than one WIP - in fact it's been a competition for which gets the lyric title and which - "Here's a safe place to lay your heart down, it's a second chance, it won't be your last" GAH)

8. Captives Come Home - Run Kid Run (I loved this song in high school and I'm so happy to have it on the Lockwood & Co playlist as a song addressing the Other Side/Harrowing of Hell connection while also just being great imagery for the kids pulling each other along through Dark London, I'm completely not over "So hold on tight let's go, and leave behind false sense of hope, as I'm waiting for the world to end I'm clinging onto oxygen, pulling captives by the hand, come home" and then "the world is falling faster falling, so take this step and leave, to bring you home from the other side" like HECK you've got Other Side and Creeping Shadow references plus take my hand Lucy and let's go and the general climax of the story like WHAT)

9. Spiders - Bear's Den (Lockwood & Co playlist, excellent Black Winter angst song, with bonus imagery that fits in beautifully with the spiders/haunting motif in the series, also a theme/title source that a couple WIPs are competing for - "I can't take back all the hurt I've caused, everything I love I have somehow lost, it's 4 in the morning and the spiders are crawling in my mind replaying pictures of all that I can't undo, love, I'm trying, but I can't pull myself out when the darkness comes")

10. Last Man in the World - The Band CAMINO (Had to listen to the album on repeat ahead of the concert, you know how it is)

I tag @fairytale-lights, @mybrainisalibrary, and @loubuttons to participate, if you would like!

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

T-Rated Lashton Masterlist

and I breathe disaster, ever after (ao3) - expectopatronuz T, 25k

Summary: The Winter Soldier lands, and if Calum felt heavy before, now he feels empty. Everything inside of Calum, his heart and lungs and stomach and throat, they all drop right down to his feet. Calum is dizzy, he’s breathing but nothing is coming in. His mind is blank, every moment of his life up to this minute, gone. None of it matters, not a moment, except for this; Calum reaching out, the handle tearing away from the side of the train, and the way his heart fell out of his chest when he realized that there was nothing he could do, that it was too late.

or, Calum is Captain America and Michael was his best friend (and maybe more)

Burned By Love (ao3) - JcLoveex (orphan_account) T, 3k

Summary: “I don’t think you do babe, I think you’re lying.” Luke smirked lightly, even though his pants were so fucking tight. “Are you lying Ashton? You don’t want me to fuck you, you want that guy to fuck you don’t you? You want him to spread you open and fuck you senseless don’t you? Want him to eat your ass and call you those names you love so much while you ride his tongue, don’t you Ash?”

Or the one where Luke has to remind Ashton who he belongs to.

Christmas Tree Farm (ao3) - no_clue_who T, 14k

Summary: Ashton walked into the apartment to see Luke pacing around the room, phone on his ear. Ashton waved to him as he slowly closed the door, he watched Luke climb up onto the couch and onto their coffee table. He put his bag down, and took off his coat and scarf, trying to ignore Luke’s conversation with his family.

“Yes mom, I’m going home,” Luke said, stepping down onto the floor again, “Ben and Jack won’t have to do everything-” Luke waved to Ashton once he saw him, “Yes mom, I won’t leave them alone to do anything. No, he, he isn’t sick, I won’t have to take care of him.”

Ashton walked into their kitchen and grabbed something, trying to remember who Luke would have taken care of. He turned around and saw Luke back on the table, one hand gesturing wildly.

“No mom I can’t,” Luke stopped talking and looked at Ashton, “He might be going away!”

domestic bliss (ao3) - sunshineash T, 8k

Summary: 5 times ashton irwin kicks luke hemmings out to sleep and 1 time he lets him stay

Energy Drinks, A Black Cat& Other Signs of Vampirism (ao3) - Headgehog_Louis007 michael/calum, luke/ashton T, 80k

Summary: “What? it’s just garlic bread.”

“Aren’t vampires like.. I mean.. don’t they not like garlic?”

A fic in which Michael is a vampire and every trope about vampires is wrong.

fight so dirty but your love’s so sweet (ao3) - softirwin luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 11k

Summary: Luke hates a good ninety-five percent of his job.

A solid thirty percent of that comes from the fact that he works as a receptionist at a hotel, which he thinks is possibly the most thankless job humanity could possibly have created. A further ten comes from the fact that his desk is right next to the kitchen, meaning mouth-watering smells are constantly wafting under his nose, and Luke’s not allowed to eat on shift.

Fifty-five percent of it, though, is Ashton.  

-

written for the prompt 'lashton bad boy’

give me something real (ao3) - rocketshiptospace T, 14k

Summary: or, the five times luke and ashton hid their relationship, and the one time they didn’t.

give you my sunshine, give you my best (ao3) - lifewasradical T, 2k

Summary: Luke knew it was a bad day from the moment that he and Ashton woke up. Correction, Luke was having a perfectly fine day, almost bordering on a good day, but from the second that he laid eyes on Ashton in the bathroom as he brushed his teeth, he had the inkling that this was not going to be a good day for Ashton.

Or, Ashton has a bad day and Luke tries to work it out with him.

hold you closer than I ever did before (ao3) - softzindagi T, 32k

Summary: “What’s the date,” Ashton asks, cracking an eye open at the doctor. He wants to know how many months he’s lost, he doesn’t want any bullshit spiel doctors tend to give.

She looks back at Luke and gives him a nod, like hearing it from Luke will make it better, more real somehow. Luke comes around the side of his bed and reaches out for Ashton's hand, as if trying to ground him, his blue eyes looking so fucking sad. “It’s September 30th, 2025.”

or; Ashton falls at a gig, loses four years of memory, and forgets he and Luke are together.

if these walls could talk (they've seen way too many things) (ao3) - softirwin T, 26k

Summary: luke gets stuck at ashton's during lockdown

if we make it through december (ao3) - allsassnoclass (brightblackholes) T, 28k

Summary: “I didn’t tell them,” he blurts. Ashton falls silent on the other end of the line. “My family. I didn’t tell them about the breakup. And I know that I should’ve and I swear I will, but Gram asked about you today and it’s probably her last Christmas with us and you know how much she loves you. I couldn’t do it. It’d break her heart, and I can’t do that to her. Not right now. So if you– I mean. What I’m trying to say is that you’re still invited to Christmas, if you want. You don’t have to, I can make an excuse for you, and I swear I’ll tell them after the holidays, but I thought maybe… maybe you’d want to see them one last time.”

I’ll Give You The Best Years (ao3) - FayeHunter T, 4k

Summary: Luke and Ashton have their backyard wedding

let me love you - @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) T, 10k

Summary: Luke Hemmings is a rockstar with a troubled past. He’s struggling with an alcohol addiction and a career that’s going downhill, but Calum isn’t giving up on him. Calum suggests Luke a fake boyfriend to help keep the bad press away. That’s where Ashton comes in, Ashton who is an embodiment of sunshine. Luke’s hesitant due to his failed past relationships, but he agrees, because he knows this is what he needs to save his career.

rebound feelin’ like a rerun (ao3) - lifewasradical T, 33k

Summary: “Alright what the fuck?” Michael shouts, dropping himself down in the open corner of the couch. “What the fuck?” he says again, leaning forward on his knees, staring at Ashton across the room.

Ashton just shrugs. “He left me.”

The lack of emotion in his voice is concerning, completely free of the bubbling laughter and attitude filled charm that normally coats his words. It’s just empty, sort of bitter but mostly void of feeling, like he’s detached himself from the situation completely.

“But why?” Luke finds himself saying.

“He doesn’t love me anymore.”

Somebody To Love (ao3) - heart_is_gonna_flatline T, 8k

Summary: Or, Luke needs someone to love but can’t seem to find the right person. He always turns to his roommate and best friend Ashton for comfort. He meets Calum. Will he be the one for him?

something’s telling me you’re the one (ao3) - rocketshiptospace T, 9k

Summary: Luke opens his locker and a paper falls out, fluttering to the floor and landing in front of Luke’s feet.

He quirks a confused eyebrow and picks it off the floor, studying it closely. It’s a simple, hastily folded and very crumpled piece of yellow lined paper, obviously torn from a notebook.

On it, written in a slightly messy handwriting he doesn’t recognize, is just one simple sentence.

‘Fuck them, I think your glasses look cute.’

or, luke has a crush on ashton, who’s totally out of his league and someone’s leaving him little love notes in his locker.

Warm On A Cold Night (ao3) - LyricalPary (hoseoky) T, 6k

Summary: In retrospect, Luke probably shouldn’t have offered to give Ashton a ride. He knows that now, thanks to the awkward silence and the nerves in the pit of his belly. But at the same time, what was he supposed to do? Leave Ashton standing out there in the harsh cold of winter? Of course not. Good people don’t do such things, and Luke likes to think of himself as a fairly good guy.

(Or, Luke and Ashton get stuck during a snow storm. But, maybe it’s not as terrible as it seems.)

when I'm down, you'll always know (ao3) - lifewasradical T, 1k

Summary: Luke couldn’t explain how he ended up laying across the floor in his bedroom, staring up at the ceiling in silence, counting the freckled dots across the plaster. He couldn’t remember most of the day anyways, lost in a haze of empty thoughts and mindless nothingness.

Or, Luke is having a numb day and Ashton is there to help, like always.

[littledrummeraussie]

Angie, my love. If I can request an Ashton piece where he sees the reader for the first time in years and all the feelings he once felt come back at him like a truck… please?

My lovely lovely Sunny 🌻 A little bit of angst, a little bit of feelings. Hope this will make you happy (or cry, whichever you need!) A journey through Ashton’s feelings, as you asked. ❤️

masterlist. | want to be added to my taglist? | Christmas Blurb Fest 2022

I loved you once. [a reunion kinda blurb with Ashton]

warnings: a look back on a past relationship. angst mostly, with a lot of feelings.

word count: 1411

----------

He loved her once.

Ashton couldn’t believe his eyes when he spotted her. It’s been like what, two years? Maybe even three. He couldn’t remember, there was so much going on in his life that it was almost impossible to recall the last time he had seen her. But she was there, real and so beautiful that it made Ashton’s heart beat faster and his stomach suddenly filled with butterflies.

He didn’t know why it happened, why today? He’s been visiting this specific coffee shop for a long time now – you could say he was one of the regulars, someone all the baristas knew and loved. But Ashton hasn’t seen her here before. Maybe their paths just never crossed. Maybe this was the first time she came here. Maybe she saw him in the shop before and didn’t want to bother him.

What Ashton knew was that the beautiful girl, his past lover, was now standing in the same coffee shop as him, only a few people between them in line. She was blissfully unaware of his presence, and Ashton couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

He loved her once.

It was like all his past feelings came back to him suddenly, like lightning struck him while the sky was clear and blue, shaking him to the core. It felt like that very first time he met her, both of them attending the same house party, and none of them wanting to be there, seeking peace and quiet in the backyard. Ashton found her sitting at the edge of the swimming pool, legs dangling into the water and when she looked at him he swore he had never seen anyone as beautiful as her.

He kicked off his boots, and not caring that the legs of his jeans were getting soaked he joined her, mesmerized by her smile and the colour of her eyes. People always told him he has beautiful eyes, but clearly they haven’t seen hers yet – if they did, they wouldn’t say such foolish things. They got so lost in conversation that Calum literally needed to drag Ashton home because they had a thing early in the morning, but not before exchanging numbers and promising to go on a friendly date once they were both free.

He loved her once.

Their so-called friends date ended with kisses shared in Ashton’s car in front of her building, none of them really wanting to let go of the other, and asking for just 5 more minutes before they needed to part. Ashton’s hair was tousled and his lips kiss-swollen, while the girl was giggling, hiding her warm cheeks in his neck as they tried to say their goodbyes in front of the door, pulling back the other at the very last moment.

That night Ashton couldn’t sleep, but he didn’t mind it, not at all. He was staring at the ceiling, a smile plastered on his face as he recalled their date, the things they talked about, the food they shared, the pictures they have taken and the way her kisses lingered on his lips, making him act like a kid who was falling in love for the first time. And maybe he was.

He loved her once.

It felt like a dream come true, like she was the missing puzzle piece in his life that suddenly fell into place. Ashton couldn’t wait to see her again, to go on more adventures, to experience the beauty of a new relationship that could turn into something long-lasting, a domestic bliss he craved deep inside. His friends said he changed for the better, he looked happier and healthier, and it was a joy spending time with him.

She made him laugh at midnight, both lying on the floor and listening to music, not a care in the world. He slept in in the mornings because he had her soft body curled against his side, breath feather-light on his skin. She taught him how to bake, and he showed her how to play the drums. He made her look at the stars with him, making wishes and trying to count them, and she dragged him to the beach before sunrise to watch it together, cuddled under a blanket and drinking coffee they brought from home.

Maybe this was what life was really supposed to be about – the simple beauties of the world, shared with someone you care about. Someone you love.

He loved her once.

Ashton was lost in thoughts and memories, heart thumping against his chest as their past played like a movie in his mind: the very first time he felt her skin against his own, the touch of her fingertips on his sides, how soft and real she felt in his embrace as they made love. The day they first introduced themselves as a couple to their friends, that first video call to his mother when she officially met with the girl after Ashton’s been gushing about her for weeks. He remembered the time they took a trip to the cabin in the woods, their first shared concert and her first 5SOS show where she was standing right next to the stage, looking at Ashton all through the night.

Every little thing they shared together convinced Ashton more and more that he found the love of his life, his soulmate, his one and only for the rest of eternity. Whenever he looked at the girl he felt like he could burst from all the feelings whirling inside his heart, and yet, he never felt so calm and sure about anything.

He knew he wanted to marry her. And he was sure the feeling was mutual.

He loved her once.

Their whirlwind romance ended only eight months after they met at the house party. Or maybe it was ten, Ashton wasn’t sure anymore. If he wanted to be honest, he couldn’t really recall how and what ended their relationship. The only thing he knew was that one day they stopped calling each other, the days stretching long and into weeks, later months. Eight months of knowing each other turned to ten, and during the last two they did not talk to each other, so really, he didn’t know when they really ended all of it.

Ashton still remembered the business trip she went on which soon turned into a disaster when she needed to change plans and go back home to deal with an unexpected tragedy. She told him she needed a little bit of time to sort everything out, and he understood it, of course he did – he wanted to be with her and help her any way he could, but his own responsibilities were looming over his head and he couldn’t make the trip to see his girlfriend. They started missing each other’s calls. The texts they sent went unanswered.

Slowly, but surely they disappeared from each other’s lives, like they were strangers who took the same bus only for a few stops, not knowing when the other got off and disappeared forever. Ashton never let anyone see the pieces of his broken heart – how could he, when they were so tiny they looked like glass dust, with no way of putting them back together?

He loved her once.

And yet, after all this time, as she was standing in line in front of him, Ashton felt like a warm hand slid inside his chest, collecting the crystalized dust and shaping it into a new heart, cradling it softly and carefully. Ashton knew that he loved her once – and he wasn’t sure. Maybe he still loved her.

It happened in a blink of an eye; she turned away from the counter, their gazes meeting in the middle of the busy coffee shop, and Ashton swore her eyes were still the most beautiful in the entire world. And Ashton knew then and there: he definitely still loved her.

The girl gave him a tentative smile, a little wave of her hand, and Ashton did the same, mouthing how good it was to see her again. She tried to hide her chuckle, then nodded at the far end of the shop, settling down to a table, an empty seat right across from her. For the first time in a long while Ashton felt like the butterflies left his stomach, and settled inside of his heart.

He loved her once. He loved her now. And maybe she loved him back too.

----------

@mymindwide @fuckyeah5sostakemehome @suchalonelysunflower @talkfastromance4 @ashtonsunflower @in-superbloom @wiiildflowerrr @lovelywordsblog @heyitskelseaj

[frary-us]

Toby Regbo's Instagram Story from May 27, 2024 supporting his brother, Louis, who is starring in the play "Let Loose Sid." (x x x)❤️

I'd love to see them act together someday. Talented family.🙏

Update May 29th: A rave review! Fantastic!🌟🙌

[wiiildflowerrr]

@Ashton5SOS: Found this in @Calum5SOS's room.... Why though

@Ashton5SOS: Find out next week on, "who's egg plant is it anyway" ...

19 February 2015

Just one of Cal's five-a-day?

[allsassnoclass]

For wip word search, ‘violet’ if it appears or ‘hand’

hi annie! i have 5 wips that i'm using for this game and violet doesn't appear in any of them :/ but we have quite a few instances of hand (or hands), so here's one from each of the 5 documents!

from mundane suffering, a little destiel thing that was supposed to be for domestic december

Dean pushes the heel of his hand through the dough, stretching and pulling it back in a steady rhythm that feels like second-nature to him now. 

from my baberoe lover, please stay songfic

He wasn't sure if he would wake up.  Babe is the lighter sleeper of the two now, wandering the halls of their house at all hours, unable to shake the phantom feeling of his rifle in his hands, the niggling feeling that something will go terribly, horribly wrong if he doesn't keep watch.

from my malum kid fic!

“Hello,” Calum says to Michael.  “Who are your friends?” “This is my Uncle Luke and Uncle Ashton,” Mason says, grabbing them each by the hand and tugging them closer. “We’re his favorite uncles, right Mason?” Luke says.  Mason nods enthusiastically.  Michael rolls his eyes. “I’m an only child,” he tells Calum.  “Mason doesn’t have any other uncles.”

from a haunted house with a picket fence

Michael hums.  Calum glances at him out of the corner of his eye.  He looks solid, like Calum could reach out and touch him without his hand going straight through.  It’s still hard to reconcile the person next to him with the one who keeps flickering out of existence, but he also isn’t the guy who’s picture got plastered online when he first disappeared.  There’s a heaviness here that Calum didn’t get from any of those images, a distinct otherworldliness that can’t be captured in still images.

and from unmute chapter 3

“Luke, come on,” one of the roadies that flew with them says, tugging him away with a hand on his waist, making a clear path for him to follow out of the crowd and saving him from having to continue talking.  He weaves in between people, pulling away and taking some deep breaths as soon as they get out of the crowd. “Alright, darling?” his mum asks after he’s inhaled a few times. “Yeah, fine,” he says.  “Are we going?”

send me a word and if it's in my wip, I'll give you the sentence it appears in!

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝚅𝙸𝙸. 𝙵𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: POV switching, inherent power imbalance due to boss/employee dynamic, fucked up family relationships and drama, abusive relationships, tooth aching fluff, everyone is incredibly horny | WORD COUNT: 9k

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: Life at home is the worst it's been in a long time, and you've never felt better.

Winter drags on in the wet, tedious sort of way that it does in Texas. Luckily for you, Joel Miller fills all those dull gaps with his own personal brand of sunshine. Morning kisses when he picks you up. Stopping somewhere to sit and have a morning coffee for 10 minutes and pulling faces when he tastes your overly sweetened caramel flavored drink. Sneaking kisses at the office when no one else is around. Sending flirtier and flirtier texts throughout the day until he comes to pick you up from the office and drives you home. 

It’s never been easy to shift from the nebulous bliss of being with him, but lately it’s even more challenging. It’s entirely possible the nature of your relationship advancing has created a stronger attachment and thus a stronger sense of loss when you have to part, but a large component of your misery whenever you have to say goodbye is the heavy, mercurial domestic picture that awaits your return every evening.

Kenzie continues to send texts, but you haven’t responded to any of them. You aren’t sure how to or if you even want to. Apologizing and making amends feels tempting and like the “obvious choice,” but you’ve grown sick and tired of placating and doing all the work to fix things in your relationships, especially when it always seems to be for someone who’s done wrong by you. So, you let it sit, and, before you know it, weeks of ghosting her fly by.

It’s not like you don’t have enough bullshit to deal with already. You do work full time, and when you get home it’s even more of a rotten environment than usual. Your dad has been on edge ever since Calum came to visit. He hadn’t spoken a word about it to you, although you had a feeling he was well aware that you knew exactly what had transpired. Instead of sitting with his own unpleasant feelings and thoughts in the aftermath, your dad had decided he’d rather distract himself from it with heavier drinking and lashing out at you.

Baskets of laundry flipped over because one shirt was “folded wrong.” Every plate in the house broken in half because you left the dishes in the sink from dinner one night. Holes punched into the hallway leading to your bedroom when his sports team lost a big match. Screaming at you until he was red in the face when you forgot to bring the mail in before it started raining.

It was the worst he’d been in a while, but something about Calum’s visit and Joel’s constant peripheral presence gave you the sort of resilience you’d long thought had been leached from you. There was nothing to do except ride this wave out and hope his wedding planning with Denise would start to serve as a distraction to shift focus away from you. She’d been overly eager to start outlining and scheduling right away, and you could tell it surprised your dad in a way that bordered on irritation.

But for now, you had to turn down Joel’s invitations to dinner at his house several times even though it shattered your heart into a million tiny pieces to have to tell him no. Worst of all was his unconditional, forgiving nature about it. You’d just say your dad was “strict” and “in bad moods” because of Calum’s visit. He’d tried pressing the subject once, but you shut it down immediately. It was bad enough having to deal with all this at home. When you were with Joel, you didn’t want to think about all that. Being with him was the only part of your life that wasn’t marred by your home life, and you wanted to keep it that way.

You wish you could tell him every day you’d love to stay for dinner and for bedtime and for all times. He’d mentioned how he “didn’t mean to keep buggin’ you about it” but that his house is quiet these days and he “misses the company.” He’d cringed at himself and laughed. “Christ, that sounds so fuckin’ pathetic.”

You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs how it made you feel warm and appreciated just to be wanted in his presence. To share his personal space with you like it was yours, too. How much you ached for him. How every time you had to say goodbye to him felt infinitely harder than the day before. 

You know you’ll get there eventually. Spending as much time as you please with him once you strike out on your own. Away from the toxic homelife keeping you from blooming into more than just a shell of your full potential. Separated enough from the dark cloud hanging around your head to understand how to speak freely and without fear of being abandoned. But, until then, you just have to take it day by day and keep reminding yourself there are good things on the horizon.

Eight times. You’d already turned him down eight times when he asked you to come have dinner with him at his house. Just something casual. No expectations. Just to enjoy each other for a little longer than the end of the work day. He’d only kept asking because you very clearly wanted to say yes. He wasn’t sure why you didn’t. Just another puzzle in the heaping pile of puzzles that already veiled you.

Your brother’s visit had revealed a few things, maybe more than you’d realized, but Joel hadn’t been successful in broaching that topic with you even though he’d tread so carefully in his approach. Your hackles were already raised when he inquired after your brother’s injuries and if they’d healed up. When Joel tried to be sly and ask the same of your father – a roundabout way of indirectly confirming he and Calum and gotten into that bad of a physical altercation – you’d briskly and coolly replied that “everyone was back to normal” and “thanks for asking.”

So, he left it at that, at least outwardly. Inwardly he’d begun to finally admit what’d been subconsciously festering for a while now: your dad was aggressive and volatile, past the point of somebody with a bad temper or an attitude problem. You’d never shown up with any physical indications that someone was hurting you, but Joel wasn’t stupid enough to think that external harm was the only type of mistreatment that could negatively impact someone, especially a parent to their child.

He wanted to get you away from your house as often as he could just because he didn’t know for certain you were truly safe there. If Calum had been on the receiving end of that, what sort of shit was coming your way? What did your dad deem necessary and appropriate when interacting with you? It was driving Joel insane with dread, but he focused his energy on what was within his control instead of worrying himself sick over everything else.

It’s why he’d started sending you goodnight texts that quickly turned into goodnight texts with pictures and sometimes goodnight texts with pictures and a phone call. Sometimes you’d share your screen with him – something he was completely unaware was possible and thus blown away by the concept – and pull up something on a streaming service app. You’d watch a show or part of a movie together and talk and laugh the whole way through.

It was a good way to spend time together, particularly since the opportunity for even moderate physical intimacy was practically nonexistent. Now that he’d had those small facets of you, that small taste of what he was missing, he was ravenous for everything that was you. Luckily for him, you never shied away from taking the lead on that.

10:28 p.m.

Your dad is passed out drunk by now. It should be safe to call Joel without any interruptions. You just hope he’s still awake. You were horny to the point of being antsy, and, while you weren’t sure exactly what it would entail, you knew a call to Joel would help things. The video call rings only a couple of times before his cheesy grin is taking up your screen.

“Hi, handsome,” you purr into your headphones.

“Hi, beautiful,” he greets in return. “You sittin’ in the dark again? Sure wish I could see more of you.”

You tap a low light lamp on your bedside table and dimly illuminate yourself for the call. For Joel.

“Pretty.”

“I, um, I guess I just wanted to call because I wasn’t ready to say goodnight yet,” you admit. 

“Me neither,” he says softly. “I’m glad you called. Love seeing your pretty face and hearin’ your voice.”

“What if there was… other stuff that was pretty to look at? And hear?” you propose in a throaty voice.

He perks up at the insinuation immediately. “Yeah? Whatcha got to show me, sweetheart?”

“I was just feeling sort of wound up, I guess, and I thought maybe you could, um, talk to me while I… you know.”

His lip twitches up, devilish and smug. “No idea what you mean. Gonna have to spell it out for me, I guess.”

You huff and roll your eyes, which just makes him chuckle. “When I came over that day and you were saying all that stuff to me, I really liked it. It, um, made me really wet. The stuff you were saying to me.”

Joel groans and tilts his head back. He gets closer to the camera like he can get a better look at you that way. “Yeah? Got you all wet talkin’ about how bad you need me to touch that soaked little pussy of yours?”

You let out a small gasp and nod vigorously. Your hand travels with a mind of its own below your clothes.

“Mmmmm, already touchin’ yourself? Take your panties off and spread out real wide for me.”

You comply and nearly tear your clothing with how forcefully you yank it down and off. You lay on your back and let gravity take your knees to the mattress on either side.

“Lemme see her.”

You hold the phone under the covers and angle it so your glistening arousal catches on the screen. For good measure you ghost a fingertip across your clit and over your entrance to spread the wetness and create more shiny contrast for Joel to gorge himself on.

“Put the other headphone down there,” he husks. “I wanna hear you touch yourself.”

You promptly pluck one of the earphones out and drop it between your legs. You give a test rub and triumph at how well the sound picks up. Joel notices as well and makes a strained throaty sound in response.

“Fuck yeah, that’s so good, sweetheart. Just like that is perfect.”

“Tell me what to do,” you breathe. You don’t want to think about anything. You don’t want to call the shots anymore. You want to hand it over to someone who will do all the decision making for you and turn you out the other side fully satisfied.

“You’re gonna take that finger and rub it right on that pretty little clit. Gonna write out on it who makes you get like this, all needy and wet. I want you to spell it out for me: j-o-e-l. Lemme see you spell it out for me, baby. Out loud so I can hear it.”

You whimper at the simplicity of it that somehow evokes so much command and control. It’s like he’s marking you as his territory without even being in the same room, and it makes the back of your neck prickle and sweat.

“J.”

His breathing is notably heavier as you begin spelling his name.

“O.”

“Nice and round. Just like that.”

“E.”

It’s hard to concentrate on keeping the phone angled so he can see everything, but you do your best.

“L.”

You let out a small sigh and relax your back into the mattress. “I put your name on me, but I know the real thing would’ve felt better,” you pout.

“Soon, okay? I promise real soon I’ll take care of you. For tonight we’re gonna make this work. You tell me what your favorite letter was to write on that pretty little clit of yours.”

“O and L felt really good.”

“Yeah? You do some O’s on it again while I get my cock out for you, okay? Got me fuckin’ hard as a rock over here listenin’ to ya.”

You do as he asks and rub small circles on your sensitive pearl. Your mouth goes a little dry watching him unzip his pants and pull his stiff length from his boxers. Your absentminded swirling grows faster when he grips it and eases vertically in smooth, slow tugs.

“You’re gonna go up and down now when you do L. Now watch me and see how fast I go, and you’re gonna go the same speed, okay?”

“Okay,” you quiver in excitement. 

You’ve never done anything like this before, and it’s exhilarating. You study his pace and mimic it on yourself. It’s a heady little exercise to watch him try not to rush, and everything feels like a warm fog around you as he picks up speed.

“Doin’ so good. Just like that. Look at how good you’re doin’ for me. Sound so pretty, too.”

It could be 5 minutes or 5 hours since you started. You’re so locked into following his tempo that time sort of softens and liquifies. The lewd sound of him spitting into his hand for lube takes you right up to the edge, and you tell him so.

“Hang on just a little longer, sweetheart. We’re gonna come at the same time. You just hang on a little longer,” he rasps. Your breathy panting and wet fingering sound loud in your ear, but you can still hear the slick drag of Joel’s fist as he jerks himself faster. His voice sounds ragged and pitched when he speaks now. “Okay, baby. You just – ah fuck – you just keep goin’ until you come for me. Make some pretty – christ – pretty sounds for me to come to, sweetheart. Give me those pretty sounds so I can come for you.”

“You’re gonna make me come,” you whine. 

“Keep goin’. Keep talkin’.”

“I’m thinking about if it was your hands instead of mine, and it’s gonna make me come.”

Joel doesn’t get another word in before the hot band in your lower belly snaps. You tuck your head sideways into your pillow to muffle your cries, which becomes much more difficult when you glance at your phone just in time to hear and see him moaning and shooting white ropes of spend. 

You stay quiet as you both come down from the intoxicating cloud of each other. You could drift off, peaceful and unaware, right then and there. Joel cleans himself up with some tissues, and, even in a nonsexual context, watching him hold and maneuver himself sends a fresh wave of arousal through you.

“You feel good? Feel better now?”

“Yes,” you hum, all loose and mellowed. “Thank you.”

“Should be thanking you. You’re the one that made the call.”

“Next time’s your turn then,” you titter.

“Next time it’s gonna be in person, and next time instead of your fingers playin’ with that pretty little clit it’s gonna be my tongue spelling it out on you.”

One thing to always be grateful for: Joel Miller doesn’t break his promises.

Some of the downright alarming things Joel has seen and learned about your life recently are apparently of no concern to you. Noticeably more buoyant and lighthearted, you were more touchy, more talkative, more relaxed over the past few weeks, and as much as he’d like to claim it all as his impact, Joel knew a huge factor in your sudden radiant ease was getting to see your brother for the first time in months. 

He seemed like a good kid if not a little guarded, but at this point that just seemed to be a familial trait. You’d divulged – or let slip – that he hadn’t texted in all the time he’d been away because your dad had cut off his phone line and left him virtually stranded, and he didn’t know your number to reach out once he got a new line. You’d tensed up immediately after sharing that tidbit, but Joel had known you long enough to understand when he needed to train his emotions and make no sudden reactions or expressions. It sounded a bit callous to respond with “sounds like a pain in the ass,” but it was a better choice than ranting about how your dad sounded like a complete piece of shit who didn’t even deserve the title of father.

You’d relaxed again when that’s all he responded with, and he added it to the growing list of reasons why he had to frequently talk himself out of confronting your dad about what the fuck his problem was and threatening him within an inch of his life if he ever, ever thought about treating you with an iota of the same energy he gave your brother.

And the way Calum had seemed so earnest when saying his goodbyes and declaring his appreciation for Joel’s protectiveness for you, his big brave kind strong sister. It felt like an unspoken moment of gratitude, something deeper and weightier than just what was being said. Between everything that had gone down in your house on New Year’s and whatever had happened New Year’s Eve with your friend, he was surprised if not relieved to see you doing so well. It felt a little selfish to so quickly embrace this burgeoning relationship with you, but he couldn’t deny it felt right more than anything.

And when your file came across his screen when he was double checking stubs for payday, it felt like a sign from the universe that he caught the tiny numbers next to your name that revealed a February birthdate. It was roughly a week and a half away, but that was enough time to plan something for you. He wasn’t sure if Calum would be coming to visit or if your friend from the store would be celebrating with you, so he decided to just go as big as he could without it feeling like too much – just to make sure you were getting the sort of fanfare you deserved without making you feel embarrassed or guilty for being prioritized.

Valentine’s Day was coming up, and he’d been panicking about whether or not he should do something for you. Of course he wanted to, but he wasn’t really sure what was fitting for whatever the two of you had. The last thing he wanted to do was make some big show of his feelings and send you running the opposite direction. Maybe one day you’d let him do that, though. He hoped, at least. He wanted nothing more than to learn every part of you so that he could praise it and show it the reverence he already felt.

He almost blows it a few days leading up to it when he asks if you have any plans for your big day. You skirt around the question, of course – something about not really being the “birthday type,” but he doesn’t believe that for a minute.

“Real believable comin’ from the girl who made me a lemonade cake for my birthday only a few months of knowing each other because she remembered that was the drink I got at her grocery store job every time,” he snorts.

You huff and hide a bittersweet smile. “It’s different when it’s somebody else.”

He nearly told you all the details of his surprise right then and there just so you could know that he saw you for you and wanted to celebrate ever being lucky enough to know you.

“Well, if you don’t have any plans, you care to indulge me with my little gift idea?”

Joel clocks the way you shoot him a dubious look, no doubt thinking back to the numerous Christmas presents he couldn’t help himself from giving you. It makes him feel a strange sense of pride knowing how much that had meant to you. Hopefully lightning could strike twice in the gifting department and this birthday could be as much of a success as Christmas had been.

“Yeah, because you famously do impersonal, thoughtless gifts,” you deadpan.

“Everybody has a different spectrum of gifting, okay?” he chortles. “So, you gonna be nice to me and let me take you somewhere?”

“I dunno. Depends on what you had in mind,” you tease.

He leaves out the finer details but tells you the date and the timeframe, and your face falls. “Oh. I can’t be out that late. My dad wouldn’t let me do that. Thanks for thinking about me, thou–”

“Just tell him you’re stayin’ at your friends like you were on New Year’s Eve. He doesn’t have to know you’re just around the corner.”

It’s a simple enough scheme, and your eyes light up. You know it makes sense, and, best of all, you know it could actually work. He’s relieved you didn’t take it as some loaded, suggestive offer because in all honesty he just wants this birthday idea to work out. If you get to stay in his house overnight again, that’s just the cherry on top. 

When he drops you off that evening, the kiss is long and tender. He's more determined than ever to make you see how much you deserve to be celebrated.

You’d been reserved to your loss of doing anything fun for your birthday with your and Kenzie’s falling out. Calum had sent a little text to say happy birthday earlier since he was going to be swamped with work on the actual day. But then Joel had stepped up – a tendency over the last several months that had now formed into a full blown habit of his – and informed you of some “simple, fun” idea he had to celebrate with you. It was a relief to know he hadn’t bought you a gift like he’d done at Christmas because you still hadn’t completely gotten over the weird feelings of guilt over it.

You had never been fond of surprises and had more than your fair share of bad ones in your lifetime to turn you off the concept entirely. But for Joel, you’d let him surprise you with something. He’d earned enough of your trust to have your blessing to do that. It sounded silly when put so simply – I trust you enough to let you spoil me – but it was genuinely how you felt. You knew there was nothing he expected in return, and you were going to try your best to accept the genuine gesture without any feelings of guilt or unease that you weren’t giving something back tenfold.

Accept the affection and attention from a person who solely wants to give them because they care about you. It was a difficult concept that didn't quite resonate in your mind yet, but you were trying.

Your dad had slowly given into the wedding planning with Denise. Her parents and sister had taken an interest in it as well as in him from what you could gather, and that meant it was time to pull out all the stops. Beguile and soft soap them all until they would never suspect the wolf in sheep’s clothing, would never think in a million years this was a man who would readily and without provocation put his hands on those weaker and smaller. Sometimes you felt sick to your stomach knowing what awaited Denise and her kids, but there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it. You know even if you tried to warn her, she wouldn’t believe you.

You weren’t going to dwell on any of that tonight, though. A gift of grace from the universe left you in your house alone to get ready and pack an overnight bag. It also left your thoughts in overdrive trying to figure out where and what this “simple, fun” gift was going to be. Joel had said to wear something comfortable “but not like pajamas or anything.” It was as helpful as it was vague, so you opted for a comfortable t-shirt and some wide legged lounge pants that were probably pajama bottoms but whatever. 

Kenzie still had all your best pair of jeans at her house since you’d never gone back to get your stuff left behind. Her dress and tights as well as your bra and panties from that night were still somewhere floating around Joel’s house. You’d have to grab them tonight. Maybe you could mail her things back to her, and she’d return the favor.

Joel’s truck barely shifts into park before you’re bounding down the front steps and wrapping yourself around him.

“Hi, birthday girl,” he greets with a warm, tight hug.

“It’s technically not until two days from now.”

“Okay, then it’s a three day affair. Party starts tonight and doesn’t stop ‘til 12:01 the day after your birthday.”

You grin and giggle, planting a soft kiss on his chin and jaw. “What happened to ‘simple’?”

“Gotta adapt to the times, Pluck. Things change, and now we’re turnin’ this into a full blown event.”

You groan and shuffle to the passenger’s side where Joel cuts you off and opens it for you. He takes your bag and loads it up and doesn’t let you get out of the car when he drops it off at his house before heading out to the mystery location. It’s about 10 minutes of driving before you realize his energy has shifted into something uncertain and nervous.

“So, listen,” he starts and clears his throat. “Your birthday bein’ all close to Valentine’s Day — well, it sorta – it’s kinda ended up a little romantic themed, but I don’t mean for – I don’t want you to feel like it’s a — I don’t want you to feel pressured like it’s a date or anything, okay?”

You force down the pitched cackle that’s threatening to burst from your chest. That is what he’s so worried about? That it might be too romantic? That it might be so thoughtful and tender-hearted that it was unmistakably intimate?

“Well what if I wanted it to be a date?  What then?”

His head practically turns off its axis with how fast it whips your direction. He’s never looked so excited and jubilant in all the time you’ve known him.

“Yeah?” he breathes.

“Yeah,” you giggle. “So, is it a date?”

“I guess it’s a date then, sweetheart.” His cheeks go round and flushed with delight as he beams.

You faintly recognize the shopping center that the truck just passed, but you can’t remember what all is out this way. You’re in the parking lot of the “fancy cinema” before you recognize where Joel is taking you.

“Alright, birthday girl. We’re gonna go inside and get some popcorn and whatever else, and then we’re gonna go grab our seats,” he informs you brightly.

“We’re gonna go see a movie? What are we gonna go see?” You’re excited to know what kind of movie Joel picked out for you.

“Well, not just one movie. It’s a special double feature with an intermission in between and everything. Figured we’d make a whole night of it since this is the Year of Movies for you.”

“Really?” you squeak.

“Yep. They’re a little older, but they’re good. I’ve seen both of them, but it’s been a long time. Pillow Talk is first and then it’s Some Like It Hot for the second one. I think it’s about an hour and a half for the first one and then a little break before the second one, which I think the site said is a little over two hours runtime.”

“This is amazing,” you gasp. “I didn’t even know we had something like this around here.”

“Yeah? You like it?”

“You weren’t even joking when you said this was going to be a whole event. This is so… I can’t even believe— I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m so excited! Thank you, baby!” you gush.

You lean across the seat and draw him into a brisk, intense kiss. You pull away and plant several pointed pecks on his cheeks and jaw and chin for good measure.

“You called me baby,” he notes in a soft, low voice. “You’ve never called me anything but my name before.”

“Oh, is that okay? I didn’t even realize I said that.”

“I liked it,” he admits sheepishly.

“Well, baby, let’s get outta this car before we miss our double feature,” you croon.

He chuckles a little and kisses your cheek before hopping out of the truck and coming around to your side to open your door for you. It’s almost dizzying how floaty you feel walking next to him. There was something about just being out and about with him like this so publicly, how freely and easily he wrapped his arm around you, and you don’t even care if you run into somebody you know. A fellow Miller Construction employee, an old coworker from the grocery store, or even your dad. It felt like it didn’t matter if someone saw you. It didn’t matter whether their reaction would be friendly or hostile or favorable or neutral or dismissive. It didn’t matter because Joel was with you, and, even if you couldn’t exactly say how, you just know down to your bones that he would face it head on and handle it for you both, no questions asked.

There’s a sort of implied promise of safeguarding with Joel that makes your brain feel quiet and sharp, like it can fully receive information and expunge all the burdensome, defunct neural pathways that were forged in all the years of stress and loss and fear you experienced prior to knowing him. Mental faculties refreshed and favoring clean new circuitry that optimized your well-being and happiness.

You sip on the bubbly, bright Coke he got for you to share as he grips a comically large bucket of popcorn in one hand and various sweets in the other. This place is like no theater you’ve ever seen before, and you start to wonder if this actually was a super expensive gift after all. When you see the dual pod reclining seats and swiveling side tables, you know without a doubt this costs way more than your average movie date night.

There are a handful of middle aged couples dotted throughout the gorgeous theater space, but it’s mostly older couples filling the seats. You’re the youngest person in the room by a longshot. When you locate your seats, Joel pauses and looks over the middle armrest separating the seats. You wordlessly lean forward and push it back, making for one large space without any barriers.

You get situated in your seats and play with all the buttons to see what they do. Joel watches on, amused and smiley, and nibbles on popcorn. You finally settle on partially reclining for both of you so you can still snack. The lights flicker and dim, and the first film starts.

“Can we cuddle?” you whisper.

He grins ear to ear and answers by way of wrapping an arm around you and pulling you snug into his side, his other hand coming to rest on top of yours in your lap. He kisses your temple and takes the pieces of popcorn you feed to him.

The movie is funny and silly even if you don’t entirely understand all the references and older technology mentioned and used. By how mellow and cuddly you both are, you’d think that was your hundredth time having an evening out like this. There was something familiar and comforting about being with Joel, and the lack of pressure or nerves about it all the entire time had you thinking Pillow Talk might just end up being your favorite movie after this because how could you not be biased now that it was associated with something so lovely?

You both get up to stretch and use the bathroom during intermission. Joel finishes first because for some reason there’s never a line in the men’s room, but he’s waiting in the hallway for you when you get out. He wraps you into a tight hug and kisses on you before walking you back to the theater. This feels like the soft launch of your relationship, and it’s hard to not get ahead of yourself with what it meant and why and how it already felt so fucking good and right.

The second movie is another lighthearted feature with solid comedic elements. You burrow and snuggle into Joel’s side this time around, hand rubbing gently across the little pouch of his belly that’s overfilled with popcorn and soda and small chocolate candies. His thumb traces your arm in gentle lines, and you can feel his whole chest vibrate when he laughs. You can’t help but look up at him a few times with a mawkish grin, which he uses as an excuse to dip his head down to kiss you.

Despite the literal hours and hours of movies you’d just sat through, you don’t feel tired in the slightest. Raw energy emanates from you, and you know Joel must feel it, too. You spend the drive back to his house thanking him roughly a million times for such a wonderful birthday and perfect gift. He basks in the influx of positive feedback and appreciation, so you make sure to lay it on as thick as he’ll tolerate.

He’s got a bounce in his step as he walks around to get your door for you. You don’t make it all the way inside his house before you’re already asking if you can stay in his bed with him tonight instead of the guest bedroom like you’d planned.

“Of course,” he huffs in disbelief. “If I ever say no to somethin’ like that, haul my ass to the doctor because somethin’ would be seriously wrong with me.”

He carries your bag upstairs for you, and your chest pounds with errant heartbeats as you pass the guest room and head for his bedroom. You creep up behind him and run your hands over his hips and towards his groin.

“I’m not really tired,” you say soft and suggestively.

“No? You need somethin’ to help get you all relaxed so you sleep?” he returns, none too intent on hiding the darkened want dripping from his words now.

“Kinda wanted to see your dick again,” you hum. “Feel it in my hand again.”

“Oh?” He turns his head sideways to gauge your unexpected admission. 

You nod firmly and rub your palm over where his pants have tented and are now straining against his hardening bulge. “Can’t stop thinking about it.”

That much was true. Perhaps a burning curiosity now that you had a male partner, you’d begun imagining all the things you could learn to make him feel good, to touch him in just the right way that makes him cry out for you louder than any other partner he’s had in the past. You might’ve rubbed his name all over yourself at his instruction, but he wasn’t the only one with a possessive side.

“Maybe we could get undressed for bed, and…” you trail off and shrug.

He turns around completely to face you and crowds your body. “Just said you weren’t tired,” he points out cheekily.

“Beds aren’t just for sleeping.”

He concedes to that and runs his hands under the hem of your shirt, pausing for a moment for you to give him the go ahead, and gently pushes it up until it’s over your head and forgotten on the floor. He repeats the action on himself and focuses his attention to undoing your bralette.

“This okay?” he checks.

“Yes,” you say firmly so he knows you want it, no doubts and no hesitation.

He continues on like this - an item of clothing off you followed by the same item of clothing off him - until you’re both bare. You can’t decide what you want to touch first and more of, so your hands just end up traversing his body in frantic little passes. He’s much more methodical – and proficient – when it comes to you. Teasing his thumbs across your hardened nipples, cupping your ass in his warm palm and squeezing it, nosing at your temple, neck, and ears.

You settle onto the bed together, and his deliberate exploration of your body has your mind going blank. He pairs sensual caresses with attentive kneading, and the combination has your entire body feeling like a willow tree in the wind. Before you can’t think of anything other than what he’s doing to you, you prop yourself up and bid for his attention.

“Can I put it in my mouth?” you ask softly.

“Yeah? That what you want?” he groans. “ You wanna taste your first cock, sweetheart?”

“Mmmhhhhhmmmm, yes. Can I?”

“Okay, go ahead.” He lays back and cups your face, tenderly caressing it for a moment, and looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. “It’s all for you.”

The assertion that his patent arousal and carte blanche invitation was all yours sent an intoxicating, simmering thrill through you. It’s just the sort of endorsement you need to delve into this new sort of sexual experience and not be so in your head about it. You shimmy down, planting chaste little kisses along his chest as you work your way to his stiff length, and let yourself pause at the thicket of coarse hairs surrounding the base. You breathe in the scent of him – a concentrated, earthier smell of his usual aroma – and gently run your fingers from base to tip.

You look up at him and feel a rush of power when you see his face already warping into a pleasured frown and pinched brow. You hold his gaze and draw tiny kitten licks all the way up to his cockhead. His breath hitches when you lick at the topmost portion of the underside, so you do it again. He can’t look away as you round out your lips and slowly sink them over his tip before just as slowly drawing them back up with a little bit of suction. 

You can already tell you’re not going to be able to fit much of him into your mouth. Maybe with a little practice and just getting used to the sensation, but not a viable option today. You work the rest of what you can’t fit into your mouth with your hand and switch out suckling his tip with messily tonguing at it and the slit. You soak in the small sounds of surrender he’s making and try to just let your instinct guide you to make him feel good.

“Look so pretty,” he husks. “What’re you thinkin’ about?”

You could try to save face and lie, but it didn’t feel right to do that. It was feeling less and less right to ever not be completely honest with Joel. “I know I’m supposed to inflate your ego by saying how big you are, but you’re actually — like, you really are big, Joel,” you point out a little bluntly. “How the hell do people do this and not have their jaw hurt the rest of the day?”

He laughs under his breath and brushes some stray hair away from your eyes. “S’okay, sweetheart. You just show me your best. Just wanna see those lips wrapped around it. Don’t gotta take all of it at once.” You nod, and he grins like an imp. “Not today, at least.”

He’s teasing, of course, but for some reason it makes you want to learn how to take him to the hilt. You flatten your tongue and take him down until your gag reflex threatens to go off. Your eyes are watering by the third time, but you don’t look away from Joel.

“Christ, you can’t look at me like that when I’m in your mouth,” he groans. “Gonna make me come way too fast lookin’ up at me like that.”

“Like what?” you breathe, a little teasing and a little turned on by his admission.

“Like you–christ– like you wanna tell me thank you just for lettin’ you suck it.”

“Like I really, really like it?” you tease. “Like it’s all I’ve been thinking about doing since I first saw how hard you get for me?”

His brow pulls in a pained sort of bliss, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. You take him in your hand slowly while you talk.

“Because I have. I’ve been thinking about touching it. And licking it.” You accentuate your words with a flit of your tongue around the slit. His eager responsiveness to your talking gives you the confidence to keep going. 

“Thought about how big it’s gonna feel inside me but I don’t even care. I just want you to fill me up with it and stretch me out on it. I know you’ll make it feel so good for me.”

“Oh fuck, yeah. Ah, fuck, I would make that tight little pussy feel so good takin’ my cock, baby.”

You moan and mouth at the underside of his cockhead, letting the fat tip of him smear and bob across your lower face. You think he might just enjoy seeing how messy and uninhibited you get when you’re lost in the buzz of sucking him off.

“You’re so warm and hard. Feels so nice in my hand. I wanna know what it’s gonna feel like to have it inside me,” you say, sounding a little out of breath and needy. “I get wet sometimes just thinking about it, ever since I watched you on the couch that first time. I wanted to know what you tasted like after you were done and it got all over our hands.”

“Christ you gotta—” he grits. His hands are clenched into fists on either side of him, bunched up fabric caught up in his grasp. “Since when have you had a mouth like this on you? Jesus fuckin’ christ.”

“I like you watching me. I like you seeing how much I want this. You taste so good.” You spit loudly onto his cock and mouth at his balls for good measure but decide to pull away from them when the sensitivity and movement of them are a little too foreign for you to feel confident focusing on when he’s this close to climaxing. You flatten out your tongue and run it up and down his length while you work his tip in wet circles with a strong turn of your wrist.

“Thank you for letting me suck your cock, Joel,” you murmur in a syrupy, coy tone. You bat your eyes for good measure and continue getting as much slobber as you can onto him so the noises are louder and louder with each suck or tug.

“Ohhh ffucckkkkkk.” He’s writhing and panting, and you want to give him that final push to where he can’t hold back any longer.

“I want you to fuck me raw so I can feel you come inside me,” you moan. “I wanna feel your cum drip out of me, baby.”

 His eyes snap to yours, and then his whole face is pulling and contorting as you lick and suckle along the underside of his cock. Hot ropes of his seed splash onto your face, but you keep your mouth open as wide as it will go so you can wiggle your tongue side to side on him. He’s making the most incredible sounds you’ve ever heard, and it resets something in your brain. You know you want to hear those same exact sounds as many times as humanly possible. 

“Wow,” you breathe when he finally starts to come down. “That was incredible.”

“God dammit I didn’t mean to come that quick,” he hisses. “Snuck up on me. You’re a damn devil in angel’s clothing, holy shit. Talkin’ like that and lookin’ at me like that.”

His flushing is attributable to his release, but you also recognize a delightful little nugget: he’s slightly abashed at orgasming so quickly.  When he’s walking back from the bathroom with some hand towels to clean you up, you catch him muttering to himself about get a fuckin’ grip, Joel. Considering this was your first attempt at a blowjob, you are admittedly proud of how fast he unraveled.

“Well look who’s pleased as punch,” he snorts. “Over there with that shit eating grin.”

You giggle and cover your face but don’t deny you’ve got a sense of pride at making him come so easily. He playfully pulls you to the end of the bed, and you squeal in surprise and delight. “Yeah, real proud of yourself now, but we’ll see who’s laughin’ when I get back to business down there,” he laughs.

He gently wipes your face clean of his spend and huffs a laugh when you’re lying there beaming up at him.

“You sure you never done that before?”

“Positive,” you chirp. “But I’m glad that out of anybody it was you.”

“Now you’re just tryna soothe my bruised ego,” he chuckles.

“No, I mean it. And… I mean, if there was other stuff we could do that was new for me… I wouldn’t say no to that,” you extend. You roll your hips against him and relish the stifled groan that vibrates through his chest.

“Well, coupla things gettin’ in the way of takin’ it there,” he says after a beat, like he’s trying to let you down gently.

You deflate a little at the rejection, now feeling a tinge of embarrassment yourself, until he clarifies that it’s nothing to do with not wanting it.

“First off, I just came. A lot. So, with guys it’s different. It takes a while to, uh, ‘get operable again’, if you know what I mean,” he explains.

“Oh, I– Sorry, I didn’t realize—”

He’s waving your apology off and continuing on before you can expose just how inexperienced you are with men. The last thing you want to do is come across as naive and incompatible with him. “Trust me, if it was up to me, I’d already have your legs thrown over my shoulder and be drilling down into you, sweetheart.”

Your lips part slightly at the mental image, and he grins knowingly.

“And then there’s also the fact that I don’t have any protection, but I can, you know, I can pick some up soon if you’re feeling like — if you’re sure you’re ready for that. No rush at all, though. There’s no pressure, okay?”

“I want to,” you insist.

His expression is tender and amused with an edge of sleepiness. “Okay, sweetheart. Then we will,” he promises. “I’ll pick some up soon, and we’ll take that step.”

“Okay,” you pout. 

“Lemme make it up to you in the meantime,” he suggests, crawling into bed with you and running a hang up your inner thigh and making you gasp.

He takes you apart in his mouth, spelling out his name just like he promised, and it’s him you dream about that night when you’re curled up into the swell of his broad chest.

Something hard and insistent prods at your thighs and finally stirs you awake. The sun hasn’t come up all the way yet. The heavy scent of Joel fills your nostrils when you take a deep breath. Sleeping next to him in his room was ecstasy on an entirely different level, a rehabilitation for your nervous system if there ever was one. You’re very much awake now when you realize just what it is that you’re feeling pressed against you.

You stay on your side as you were when you woke, but you turn your head enough to see the gentle rise and fall of Joel’s chest. He was still knocked out with no indication that he’d be conscious any time soon. He’s not on his side, but he is angled towards you enough that his hardon continues to make direct contact. You turn in nimble, measured movements so as to not disturb him until you’re facing him completely. Your eyes are drawn to the hefty length of him, thick and resting on his thigh.

You reach a hand down and curl around it with featherlight touch. He shifts slightly but doesn’t wake. You get a firm hold and give an experimental stroke. This garners a stronger, definitive response. His forehead and eyebrows twitch and wiggle, mouth drifting open a little and making small, silent shapes. Heartened by the effect you have over him, you stroke a little faster and study his face for any changes. 

He lets out a soft grunt and subconsciously ruts towards the friction. He’s got a sour little shape to his mouth now as he becomes half-conscious of his surroundings and fully hard.

“Mmmmmm, what’reyoudoin’?” He sounds groggy, voice thick with sleep and dazed arousal.

“Woke up to it,” you whisper throatily. “Looked like it needed a little attention.”

He sighs and opens his eyes, and they twinkle back at you with something challenging and playful. “You decided to give a helpin’ hand, huh?”

“Hand. Mouth. I’ll give you whatever you want,” you murmur.

“Missin’ a couple orifices for that list to be complete,” he chuckles. His eyes are resting shut, still not entirely awake for the day, but a big grin spreads on his mouth. That is, until you say to hell with it and resort to begging.

“Can you fuck me without a condom? Just once? Please? I wanna feel you so bad. Please, Joel. Please.”

His eyes are wide open now and darkened by your shameless appeal. “We really shouldn’t…..” Even he doesn’t sound convinced. 

“I won’t ask again,” you promise, doing your best to not sound too let down. “Sorry. I just keep thinking about it.”

He studies your face for a moment, and the flicker of a decision dances on his own. “Maybe just once. Right? Just for your birthday. Just a little gift for your birthday, just this once, okay?” he rambles, sounding eager in the way his voice pitches up the longer he speaks. You nod, a yes yes yes whispered, and resume stroking his now leaky cock.

He’s quickly between your legs and making out with your pussy. It’s only been a handful of times, but he works you like he already knows every little spot you like and every little tell you have. You come when he adds a second finger. He wipes his glistening mouth and chin on the sheets and crawls back up your body like a cat on the prowl.

“Think you’re ready?”

“Yes, please. I can’t wait any more. Please.”

He notches himself at your entrance and holds your eye as he begins pushing inside. You’d expected more of a painful sensation, but it doesn’t go past slight discomfort and stinging as you adjust. Joel looks worse for wear as he tries to keep a level head and not go too fast.

God you feel so good and so warm and fuckin’ soft and fuckin’ chokin’ me spill from his lips as he feeds you his cock inch by inch until he’s fully seated inside you. You whimper at the stretch and fullness, clawing at him to hold you closer while your body accommodates him. He obliges and cradles you against him. It’s overwhelming in the best of ways feeling him above you, inside you, all around you.

He slips a finger between your legs to work your clit and help you fully relax around him, and you’re both caught off guard when the simple motion elicits an orgasm. You’re making insane noises, you’re sure of it, but you don’t care. The sensation of clamping down onto him is otherworldly. He himself is making little grunting noises of effort – to not move or to not come, you’re not sure.

The spasming begins to subside, but you can’t stop whimpering. It only worsens when Joel starts to shift his hips and gently fuck into you. Your head snaps back the first time the drag of his cock gets plunged all the way back inside you.

“Feels good, huh? Comin’ all over me just from a little touch. Coming just because you’ve got this fat cock in you, huh?” he goads. “You gonna choke my cock again, sweetheart? Gonna come all over this cock again once I start fucking you just how you wanted?”

You speak, but it’s mostly just babbled whines. You tilt your hips slightly and cry out when the change of position gives him an open range of motion.

“There you go, there you go,” he rambles. “Takin’ it raw, aren’t you? Didn’t want anything else for your birthday, did you? Just wanted to open up this cock and have me shove it into this tight fuckin’ pussy. Never had a cock before and now she can’t get enough.”

He bends his head and latches onto a peaked nipple, and you’re gone. Your entire body seizes up with the force of your climax, and you swear your vision goes flat for half a second. Joel fights against the drowning clutch and pull of your cunt as he hastily pulls out and finishes on your mound with a gravelly moan.

By the time you both regain enough energy to speak, the sun is fully in the morning sky. Joel convinces you to get up so you can shower together and eat breakfast. He tends to you every step of the way of your blissful morning together.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

tagging:

@thethirstwivesclub @cumberpegg @survivingandenduring @windsweptarmadillo @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu

@bizarrelove-triangle @doblasftcisco @canteenee4 @koshkaj-blog @sunandmuun

@janaispunk @halfpastgrace @toomanystoriessolittletime @pastelpinkflowerlife @bonezone44

@pastelnap @ellenmunn @sherrycherry03-blog @confusedpuffin @reneerocks3617

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@ficrecreblo @witchy-and-persnickity @lyuir @indiegirlunited

[darkfictionjude]

I named my MC 'Calum'! It means "dove" in Scottish Gaelic, from Latin "Columba". 🕊️

Doves are considered as birds of good fortune in many cultures and religions:

- a symbol of the Holy Spirit, the Baptism of Jesus, and a messenger of good news/blessings upon men by God in Christianity— in Orthodox Christianity, doves are also believed to be the incarnation of a recently deceased person's soul

- the bringer of the first sign of life (an olive branch) and God guiding Noah's Ark to the land after the Flood, and a symbol of the human soul (which is said to "chirp") in Judaism. It was also believed the choosing of a bitter food like an olive leaf meant doves served God than man

- associated with Love Deities like Ishtar and Aphrodite, both goddesses also having an association with War (more the former than the latter. see: Aphrodite Areia): a more direct war connection comes in the form of Hachiman from Japanese mythology: the (syncretic) Deity of War and Archery.

Aphrodite's main festival would also require her altars to be cleaned with the blood of a sacrificed dove (👀)

- helping, with a spider, Prophet Muhammad to hide from his murderous pursuers in a cave by making a nest and laying eggs in it by the entrance in Islam: pursuers thought the nest and the spider web would have been disturbed visibly if someone entered the cave, and so left it alone

- white doves are technically common pigeons with white privilege: pigeons have been domesticated by humans for many purposes, most importantly as homing/war pigeons as a way of fast communication. They are also equally derided for being "rats with wings" in cities, viewed as carriers of disease. Most people also tend to believe doves and pigeons are different bird species (ie. me about a couple years ago) instead of white doves being domestic pigeons, which is a subspecies of rock doves or "common pigeons"

- symbol of peace and pacifism in art and politics

Love all these doves facts. Also it’s actually a very good name! Thematically it fits with religious connotations and the concept of a soul. And it does fit in with the other siblings names as it is an old fashioned name and it’s strong and I’ve always thought that MC regardless of anything is very strong💜 (with all the things they’ve endured in their short life they’d have to be)

[ghost-of-you]

Catch 22 - CH - Bonus Chapter

Paring: Calum Hood x Original Female Character

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: none, this is just fluff.

Author's note: Okay, so, I've had this written as bullet points but with nothing really concrete since I first outlined the series, but it didn't really fit with what i posted, so i just let it be, until a few days ago when @getsojaded said a few nice things about this series that had me thinking about it again. Then this was born. It's just domestic fluff. The angst writer in me didn't know I could write something that's just fluffy, but here we are.

If you just came across this, I don't think you need to read the whole series to think this is cute so if you just wanna read some fluff maybe go for it oskaoskaoksoaks.

The title for this one is from sweet nothings by Taylor Swift

read it on ao3

Series Masterlist

playlist

_________

You're in the kitchen humming...

Emma follows the noise more than anything else. She’s not really used to waking up alone anymore so when she rolled over in bed to find Calum’s side empty, she was confused. Then she heard the clanking coming from the kitchen, so she sleepily moves to their closet, grabbing the first of Calum’s hoodies she could get her hands on, before walking through the house, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, watching Calum's back as he reads something in his phone while leaning against the counter and humming a melody she doesn’t really recognize, the band was back in the studio, so for all she knows it could be something new he’s working on, before walking up behind him and wrapping her arms around his middle.

“Hi,” she says, leaning against his back, her head on his arm.

“Morning,” Calum says, turning his head to kiss the top of her head, and she giggles.

“What are you doing?” She asks, leaning her head to the side a bit more, glancing around all the ingredients around the counter before looking at his phone so she could see what he was reading, finding a brownie recipe. 

“Woke up feeling like baking,” he shrugs and she giggles.

“Okay, you need help?” She asks, moving to sit on the chair next to them.

“Not unless you’re ready to tell me the secret to your brownies,” he teases, glancing at her with pleading eyes and a grin, making her laugh.

“Okay,” she agrees, folding her sleeves so she could use her hands, pulling her hair up, and the bowl next to her closer and he turns to her, looking surprised.

“Wait, really?” He asks, face lighting up, making her heart flutter as she nods.

“Yeah.” The nod becomes a giggle when he leans forward, kissing her, then becomes a laughing fit when she almost falls off the chair as she chases his lips when he pulls away, making him have to catch her so she wouldn’t end up face first on the floor, laughing too.

“You okay?” Calum asks when he finally stops laughing, and she nods.

“You’re gonna be disappointed though,” she scrunches her nose, looking at him.

“Why?”

“It’s just chocolate,” she explains, pressing her lips together and turning to the counter, pulling the bag of flour and a measuring cup.

“What is just chocolate?” He frowns as he watches her pour the flour into the bowl.

“I add melted chocolate and cocoa powder to the batter, then I put some chips in it just for good measure,” she laughs, glancing at him while motioning for him to get the sugar for her.

“So it’s just an insane amount of chocolate?” He asks when he hands her the bag, and she nods. 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” she giggles as she adds the sugar and he slides the cocoa powder to her.

“Not disappointed, I should’ve guessed it was something like that,” he chuckles and she smiles at him as she mixes, “so you just put the chips in the microwave, or do you need to melt it in some fancy way?”

“Microwave is fine,” she says and he nods, kissing the side of her head as he moves to the microwave, “did you melt the butter?” 

“Yeah, it’s in the other bowl, you mix wet and dry separately, right? So I already mixed it with the eggs,” he tells her, making her laugh, “wait does the chocolate go with the wet or the dry?” He asks when he moves back and she raises an eyebrow at him, “never mind, stupid question,” he laughs, mixing the chocolate in. 

“I’m gonna get a tray,” she says as he finishes the batter and he grins at her. 

“You think they’re gonna turn out as good as yours?” Calum asks once the brownies are in the oven, sitting on the chair by the counter and pulling her to him so she's standing between his legs.

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t,” she says, leaning into his chest and hiding her face in his neck when he wraps his arms around her. 

“We’ll see,” he says to her hair, and she nods. 

“In a few minutes, yeah." 

"I'm gonna let Duke out," he says, letting go of her and she pouts at him, making him laugh and kiss her, earning him a giggle.

"I'll make coffee and clean then." 

The counter is clean, the dishes are washed and Emma is checking to see if the brownies are done when Calum comes back.

"Love?" He calls from somewhere behind her as she looks around for the oven mitts and she hums in acknowledgment, "do you remember the first time I had your brownies?" 

"Yeah," she laughs, opening the oven door and pulling the tray out, "you joked I was your favorite person and that I should marry you, hard to forget," she adds, setting the tray on top of the oven, "why?" 

"You are my favorite person," Calum says, and she chuckles, turning to him, finding him down on one knee, her eyes widening as she looks at him, "would you please marry me?" He asks, opening the ring box, but she's answering before he's quite finished speaking.

"Yes," she says, her voice sounding way too high as she drops to her knees too, "oh my god, yes," she repeats, throwing her arms around him, almost making them fall back and he laughs as he holds them up and her tightly against him, before she pulls away and starts kissing him. 

"Can you let me give you the ring now?" He asks against her lips and she can't stop smiling as she nods and pulls back, giving him her hand.

"I love you," she says once the ring is on her finger and she throws herself at him again.

"I love you too, so much," he says, cupping her cheeks and kissing her, before pulling them up.

"Did you plan this?" She asks, looking at the brownies and back to his face and he shakes his head.

"Not really. I've been trying to find the right moment and this felt right, so I just went for it. I was right to assume you would prefer something like that, right?" He asks, studying her face and she nods.

"Yeah, that was perfect actually, if you tried to pull something too elaborate I would've freaked out." 

"I know."

"This is just," she breathes, looking at the ring, "I love you so much." 

"Me or the ring?" Calum teases and she rolls her eyes.

"You know I would marry you in a parking lot with a ring pop."

"Yeah?" He asks, pulling her to him and she shakes her head, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"No, I'm only with you for the money," Emma jokes and he laughs.

"Damnit," he complains looking away, but he’s still laughing. 

"Babe, I've been in love with you for a decade," she says, cupping his cheeks to get him to look at her again.

"It's a long-term investment," he jokes and she gives him an unimpressed look.

"Idiot." 

"Your idiot," he grins at her, leaning in so he could kiss her, and she giggles against his lips.

“I can live with that,” she grins, kissing his cheek and moving away from his hold, opening a drawer to look for a knife for the brownies.

"Wait," she stops, closing the drawers without pulling anything out, turning back to Calum, "who gets M on the ceremony?"

______

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