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passthe5sos · 11 days ago

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F O U R ; P L A N

"Well, now that you've got your gun, It's much harder now the police have come, and I'll shoot him if it's what you ask, but if you just take off your mask you'd find out everything's gone wrong, now everybody's dead."

Rory

Every bone in my body feels brittle. Being wanted only for sex is a weird feeling. Never before had a guy ever come to me explicitly for sex. It's always been 'did you take the math notes?' and 'what'd you get on number eight, i just guessed'. I had never ever felt like I've been wanted in a sexual manner. I hadn't ever seen myself as a sexual being. Someone who can find joy in the simple pleasures in life. I always just thought that sex was necessary for procreation, but remembering the feeling of Niall's hand in mine. Even though Giselle says he took advantage of my weakened state, cause I was so caught up in the moment, I didn't think of the implications. I was never raised to read between the lines. My mama always wanted me to see the good in people, and wanted me to help them see the good in themselves too.

Don't even get me started on the way Harry was talking about it, like he believed we were committing the worlds biggest sin. I don't understand why me going upstairs was so problematic. I mean, I get Niall's intentions were a little askew, but I wouldn't have let him get far at all. I probably would have freaked before he even got to kiss me, if he kissed me. Giselle says that she hardly ever kisses her one night stands, that it's so much more emotional than sex. I don't get that, but maybe one day I will.

Giselle sleeps peacefully beside me. We talked about what happened to me on the stairs. I talked about Louis, how he basically fell asleep on me, and gave me his weed stick, which I found out is called a blunt! So I look 1% less stupid. She looked a little distraught over me bringing up Louis, but she wouldn't explain why. She also said that she hadn't mentioned them to me before (the boys who aren't American) because she didn't know I was into that kind of thing, and since I so totally am, we imagined booking a trip to Europe. Meeting hot Italian boys, French kissing the french, her drinking in Ireland. Honestly, it was the perfect way to fall asleep if my brain hadn't been running all night long. It's like my brain drank coffee. I was exhausted, and all I wanted was to sleep, but it was escaping me. I guess it's a good thing then, cause I didn't dream of those gorgeous sea green eyes. Why do boys get all the good things? The hair that does what you want it to, why can they just roll out of bed in yesterdays clothing with no makeup? Why don't we bully them for not shaving under their arms? Your armpits don't need to look like jungles boys. Makes me wonder what boys looked like in the cavemen era, women and men were probably covered head to toe in hair, and they didn't complain then? I feel like men have devolved.

I finally fall asleep, and I probably looked like shit so Giselle didn't wake me in the morning. We really didn't speak much on the weekend. I think she kinda felt bad about forcing me to go to the party, and all that happened when I clearly didn't want to go. As upset as I think I am about everything, I couldn't ever be mad at her for making me go. I really could have let her go on her own, but that idea made me feel sick knowing she was having a bad time too in the end.

I say I'm not as upset as I think I am (or probably should be) because I learned something valuable. What sex means to the average man. To me, it's everything, just as kisses are. Both are super personal to me, considering I haven't done either. It would take a lot of trust in me to do that with someone else. But to guys like Niall, a proclaimed 'ladies man', sex means nothing. I need to protect myself a little better around these kinds of people. These guys aren't high schoolers, they are full grown adults who still have the mental capacity of a 12 year old boy, meaning they are way worse. I just hope Niall isn't going to talk about me, call me a prude or something nasty. Technically, I wasn't the one who ruined it, it was Harry. Thank God for Harry. God and Harry being in the same sentence sounds just as strange as the devil and God being in the same sentence. Like I feel like Harry isn't menacing, but he kinda intimidates me a lot. More than I think I'd ever admit out loud to myself, or to anyone for that matter.

Everything about him feels like his was created to be just that, magnetic, devilish. He's like the first ever sin created, fresh, new, and pure in a way that's totally warped and evil. It makes me sick to my stomach. His voice too, killer. It's deep and monotone. I wonder if he's ever been happy before. Probably not. It was deep and God forgive, but attractive like all British voices are. But I've heard British voices, and there's nothing so liquid gold like his. Music to my ears. He's barely spoken ten words to me and I already find him interesting. I just wish Niall hadn't been... Well, so boyish. I think I could have genuinely liked Niall. He's not too much like Harry, not sure how true that statement is or not, but their vibes are a little different. Niall is more like a camouflage snake I suppose. You don't realize it's true intentions until it's venom is coursing through you while it drags you back to it's place for a midnight snack.

But they were just too cute to forget about. Maybe that's their motive. Look like cute little bunny rabbits (minus Harry, he's more like a scary bat, no vampire pun intended), and lead girls into your bedrooms.

The ceiling looks rather interesting this time of day. The popcorn ceiling is painted a fun white color, cause how fun can white paint actually be. I run my finger against the plump part of my lower lip. To kiss someone. To have sex with someone. I wish I hadn't been so afraid, I would have slept with Niall, I'm sure of it, if I hadn't been so afraid of it. Even with all that being said, Harry stopped us from doing anything, not even me. It's like he knew it was going to happen, and he was waiting there to save me. Harry, saving someone. Funny, vampires don't save people, they kill them. Unless I'm like some sort of prey.

You know, in the way that predators play with their food for a while until they devour it. I suck in a quick breath. Can that even be possible? They're both toying with me on purpose, making me think one thing so I ignore the other red flags. I should really as Giselle's mother for a lesson on reading people, it would help me so much in cases like this. I feel like a fly stuck in a spider web. They have me right where they want me, but they're not going to pounce yet, they want to watch me squirm. And boy, do I squirm.

The door pushes open and I lurch upward to sit making Giselle shriek. "You scared me!" we both shouted at the same time. She groaned and shut the door behind her, sitting down on her bed. "You okay, you don't look okay?" I asked, taking in her appearance. Her lips were downturned in a frown. Giselle never frowns. "My mom called."

Dread. All I feel is the cold washing of dread. "What about it?"

"They found another body in the park last night, around 8 this morning." I let out a deep breath. "Who is it this time?" she looks to the side, eyebrows deep in worry. "Do you remember Eleanor from the bakery? Her daughter came to visit this week, she's been away at college..." Giselle trails off and I sigh. Wow. I went to school with Eleanor's daughter, Ruby. Ruby was two years older than me, so we never spoke, but she always brought treats from the bakery her mom worked in and gave them to the kids who didn't have lunch. Usually just bread, she brought cookies once for the teachers and staff, and she brings cupcakes for kids on their birthdays. "I don't understand what's happening. The people in Georgetown are so sweet." I stand up, running my hands through my messy hair. Giselle nods solemnly. "Yeah, Ruby was a friend of mine actually." I stop pacing and sit down on her bed. "I'm really sorry Giselle." she stutters out a breath, her tears bubbling up in her eyes. "We need to do something about this. I'm putting in an application at the station, and I think you should too. The station needs all the help it can get." Giselle rants. "We need to put a stop to this." my eyes widen and I cup her hands in mine and nod. "Yeah, I can help. I'm not much good when it comes to field work, but I can do something behind the scenes." I nodded, promising away my assistance, and probably every waking minute I have until the case closes. I unclasp a hand from our little bundle on her lap and wipe away at her tears.

"Too many people have died, and I worry every day who's going to be the next one. What if it's my mom, your mom, you!"

"Hey, shh, you said it yourself, the people who were killed were probably affiliated with the gangs. So, we can start with Ruby and her family, see what they know." Giselle's eyes hardens as she shakes her head. "No way would Ruby ever be into something like that, I mean, she gives out cupcakes to people for God's sake, not run ins with drugs and murder!" I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight while she cries. "I know this is a difficult thing to process, but you and I both know, that Ruby getting to go to UCLA is a bit weird, even for this town."

Ruby is one of the first girls since Georgetown Community College, and Greensboro University was crated, to be able to go to a different, more impressive school. Most of the people that lived in Greensboro did that all the time, but then the college was made, and it was slightly more affordable than any other university, so most kids chose to go there instead if they could swing it. My first guess is that Ruby got involved cause she needed the money to go to school, but I'm no investigator, what do I know?

"No! Absolutely not, I am trashing these right now!"

Officer Westbrook, Giselle's mother wasn't all that impressed with our idea, as you could call it. "But mom, please! We have to do something!" Giselle argued, walking around the precinct like she owns the place. "Giselle Tahlia West, I will not! I mean not, have you or your friends apply for jobs here. That is putting a direct target on your backs." Giselle's mother shot back quickly.

The idea of working for the station hadn't been totally uncalled for for me, I wouldn't mind helping save people. But Officer Westbrook thinks that Giselle and I working for the station will cause some discourse. We could lose friends over it. I mean, wouldn't that be a good thing? If people distance themselves for us, there's probably a reason, no? That would be super suspicious to me. But in her world, that puts a direct 'kill me before I catch you' sign on our backs. Of course it made me worry, but at the same time, this was an important job. I can understand why Officer Westbrook wouldn't want her own daughter to work there, but her not wanting me to work there warmed my heart. I felt like a part of the family.

Officer Westbrook tears up our printed resume and job applications, tossing them into a shredder. That's a bit deep. "Giselle, maybe we should go." I suggested, tugging on her flannel jacket sleeve, but she rips her arm away. "No, not until I'm working the case."

Officer Westbrook shuts her eyes, pressing her fingers against her temples. I glance around, a couple people that worked here were staring at us like we're crazy. "In my office, now." Giselle's mom snapped and the both of us walked into the office directly behind the front desk. Giselle's mother, Sharon Westbrook, shuts the door, shutting the blinds as well. This feels just as bad as coach yelling at me. Giselle and I take a seat each opposite the desk. "I'm going to have a nice calm discussion about this with the both of you, and when you leave, you will smile, and forget today ever happened." Sharon sits down on her chair. She folds her hands up, fingertips pressing against each other. She takes a gulp of air. "I haven't been completely honest with you baby." She stares at the empty space in between Giselle and I, like she can't bare to look at either of our faces. "So far, we've accumulated a head count of 250 bodies. Some, more mangled than others, most, without identification." Sharon begins, twisting the silver band on her ring finger in a nervous habit. "Ruby was just... 251. Before she was killed, we hired six men and three women to try and infiltrate their ranks, find out who they are, but nobody budged. Nobody in Greensboro or Georgetown knew anything about gangs, rivalries, most barely even knew anything about the murders." Sharon's tongue darts out to swipe across her bottom lip. "Ruby was one of the women we hired, and she came down this week to look into the case." Giselle slams her hands down on either arm rest, shooting up. "Oh my fucking God mom!" Giselle shouts, turning around and grabbing onto her hair.

"Shh!"

"I'm sorry, what does this mean then?" I asked, leaning forward. Sharon scratches the top of her head. "It means, there are six men missing and two other women who haven't checked in. The gang knows the police are trying to find a way in. Those six men's bodies will be found somewhere, and those two women will be found somewhere else. It's astonishing how well these people work." Sharon's gaze dropped down to the wooden desk. "We sent them in on a suicide mission. All they wanted to do was help!" Sharon chokes, tears pooling in her eyes.

She takes a couple calming breaths and Giselle finally sits back down after pacing. "We want to help too," Giselle pleads. "We need to help, I need to get justice for Ruby, for everyone."

Sharon just shakes her head. "I can't hire either of you for this. The officers in the precinct aren't allowed to hire any family members. And even if I could, I don't want to put either of you in danger." Sharon stands and I know that is the end of this conversation.

Leaving feels like a blur, and Giselle and I don't speak the entire walk home. She seems... Different. I mean, I would be too if my mother hired a friend of mine to infiltrate a gang and ended up being murdered in the process. I guess I was wrong then, about Ruby being involved with the gang. She died doing what she loved, helping people. I haven't seen the body, and even when Giselle begged before we left, the records were all sealed and impossible to break into now, the entire file on the gangs have been encrypted. So, nothing can be edited, or even looked out without the proper information.

Giselle and I walk to the house together. Her mom said something about giving the both of us a car to share so we're not stuck walking around everywhere. It's very sweet of her, but I never learned how to drive and Giselle and I don't have the same class hours every day, so I'd end up having to walk home or to class anyway. "You okay Giselle?" I asked, stopping her on the driveway. She nods, not meeting my gaze. I know she's thinking of something, she doesn't rest until she gets what she wants, but her mother kinda scared me. I want to live my life honestly, I have a lot more thing's I want to do. Like go to Italy with Giselle, and French kiss the French. I rest a hand on her shoulder making her look at me. "Giselle-" I warned but she shook her head. "I know what my mom said, but we need to do something. 250 people have died! Died!" I hush her but she shakes her head. "I could really use your help. There are six guys who's bodies haven't been found yet, and there are two other women who haven't been found yet. I know you swore you'd keep yourself safe while away at college, but Ruby... Ruby would've gotten involved, she would have wanted people to save the others and stop the gang. I need your Aurora."

My heart clenches at her words. I have no other choice I guess. My hands are shaking as I nod. "Okay. What's the plan?"

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aussiexlovexaffair · 3 months ago

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domestic moments with clingy bf!luke words: 1.1k request fill: anon ask! genre: tooth-rotting fluff tw: none! author’s note: y’all i need you to peer pressure me into posting istg but hope you enjoy!! Also I kinda got distracted so this might fall into a more domestic category than clingy lmao listen to: “she will be loved” by maroon 5

“Lucas Robert Hemmings, you’re suffocating me..” You grumble from underneath the blond boy wrapped around you like a koala. He cringes at the use of his full name.

“S’ not enough…” Luke shoves his head into the crook of your neck, rubbing his button nose against your warm skin. “You’re not close enough.” He adds tiredly, his lips barely moving as he speaks in his soft accent. Ever since Luke had gotten to the States, the thick Australian accent he once had slowly started to fade into a more gentle version of it. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss his voice before.

You giggle at the observation. “You’re literally on top of me. I don’t think I can get any closer.” This time, the boy lifts his head ever so slightly with narrowed eyes and lips pulled thin in disappointment. “Hey, don’t give me that look. I’ll call your mother.”

Luke lets out a soft exhale through his nose. A smile gradually forms on his lips. “I don’t like that you and my mom are so close. You call her more than I do.” Shrugging, you roll your eyes at his comment. “Not that it’s a bad thing. I like that she likes you..”

“I do too…” You agree sheepishly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that nervous when meeting someone.” Resting his cheek against your chest, Luke laughs quietly.

“Stop it— did I make her seem that scary? I thought I made her look cool…” He pouts faintly, reflecting on how he described her to you. Shaking your head, you press a kiss to his forehead that garners a hum of approval from the back of his throat.

“Not scary, but meeting anyone’s parents is terrifying. I know she loves you and I know that she’s protective of you, I get it.” You shuffle up the bed and rest against your headboard, leaving Luke laying his head against your stomach. His lanky arms snake around you to anchor himself to your body. “Remember when you met my dad?”

Luke feels his face heat up instantaneously. “Yes, I remember when I met your dad.” He huffs, letting out a high-pitched groan at the memory. He recalls when he first came face-to-face with him. In the moment, he imagined what it looked like to him— some lanky loser with a pimply face and red cheeks holding hands with his prize of a daughter. Luke shoves his face into your skin shyly. “My voice cracked so bad.”

You can’t help but let out a loud snicker when the memory resurfaces. Luke had gone to shake your father’s hand and introduce himself, but it all went awry when he opened his mouth. He didn’t get a single word out before it had happened, either. But it did break some of the tension between the two of them, so it wasn’t entirely bad.

Luke’s eyes shoot upward at you at the sound of your laugh. “Hey.” He sulks. “That’s mean. Don’t tease me…” He detaches himself from you for a moment before fixing his position so he can sit right beside you against the headboard.

Grabbing your phone, you decide to turn on some background music for the moment— something to set the mood— and scroll through your playlist. Eventually, you stumble upon one that you commonly played in quiet moments like this: the combined playlist that you and Luke had created some time within your relationship. The first song, “She Will Be Loved” by Maroon 5, reminds you of the car ride you two had taken back to your house after your first official date.

You two had gone to an arcade and blown Luke’s most recent paycheck that he earned working a servo back home. At first, you insisted that you use your own money or at least split the expenses between the two of you, but he was adamant that he took you on a proper date, whatever that meant for him. Afterward, you’d gone to a 24/7 diner for dinner, another thing that Luke refused to let you pay for. “It’s my job..” you recall him saying to you after you’d complained about feeling guilty.

Catching you in the middle of zoning out, you feel Luke rest his chin on your shoulder, watching the phone screen. “Whatcha doin’?” He breaks your concentration, sliding his hands up your side comfortingly.

Pressing the title of the song and connecting your phone to the speaker in your room, you swivel around in his arms to face him. “Just thinkin’.” The sound of the song playing low in the quiet of your room has a smile growing on his face.

“I play this song a lot…” He begins quietly. Luke reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers together. “I like thinking about that night too. I remember I had just gotten my license too, so I was thinking the entire time: ‘God, please don’t crash. Please don’t crash..’” His cheeky smile grows at the sound of your laughter.

“But you didn’t.” You interrupt him. He nods, his teeth catching his lip piercing absentmindedly.

“I almost did—” He interrupts himself with a giggle. “I almost did after you, uhm.. You kissed my cheek when I dropped you off. You kinda just… walked off afterward but I felt like my face was on fire.”

You hum in response, recalling hearing him attempt to say something smooth afterward, but failing to come up with anything. “It was cute, I remember.”

His hands grasp at your hips, tugging you impossibly closer to him. “And then I watched you walk inside and immediately after the door closed, you texted me: ‘Let’s do it again sometime.’ With a winky emoji at the end and I don’t think I’ve ever felt that good in my life.”

Your eyes wander down to where his slender fingers subtly dig into your sweatpants. “You’re touchy tonight..” In your voice, there’s an obvious hint of playfulness.

He crinkles his nose and looks away, his spotted cheeks heating up. “I can’t help it…” He returns his gaze to you, his smile lighting up the dim room. You now understood why some people called it his ‘hamster face’ — the combination of his scrunched nose and toothy grin resembled one strikingly.

His grip on you grows firm for a moment and he flips you onto your back, tumbling after you in a mess of limbs so that he can lean over you. A few strands of his once perfect quiff hang in his face, but you do him a favor and fix it. “This close enough for you, idiot?”

Shaking his head, he allows his arms to give out and he falls on top of you, practically smothering you once again. “Luke!!..” You groan, your voice muffled by his shirt, the material practically in your mouth from the proximity. His body slumps, finally finding himself comfortable, and he exhales softly. “Mhmm.. I think I’m close enough for now.”

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