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#Ashton said okay it's time to be vulnerable and soft and ask for help and willingly put myself in this position
thatfaerieprincess · 4 months
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I don't usually blog directly abt CR I just reblog but uhhhhhhhhh I am STILL thinking about Ashton getting his head inspected by Essek. That was literally almost everything I wanted from that scene!! I have been dreaming about nearly exactly that scenario for MONTHS!!
Ever since we first saw Caleb in C3 I've been sitting on this fic idea I'll never write where Caleb and Essek get to sit Ashton down in their shared study and inspect them and ask them questions and answer questions for them!!! I wanted Ashton to be treated SO gently and so respectfully and yet completely depersonalized as just A Thing for them to study, but still being checked in on!! Caleb being SO careful to make sure Ashton doesn't feel uncomfortable bc of his own history Being An Experiment, the two of them getting Ashton's full story and just Making Eye Contact over their head!! Swapping notes and theories, Caleb filling Essek in on what he knows abt the potions of dunamis, teaching Ash abt what they know, Caleb keeps going into teacher mode, Ashton being somewhat zoned out when they aren't being spoken too, sitting in a comfortable chair just letting themself be moved and positioned! Caleb asking if they need any water or snacks or extra pillows !! Ashton is deeply uncomfortable but in a very comfortable way, not used to being treated with this kind of respect and care, especially not being studied by someone who isn't LEERING !! They give Ashton a full briefing at the end with all their conclusions!! Maybe some other time they run some tests on their abilities!!
And obviously the scene in c3e95 is entirely different by way of No Caleb, but with just Essek that was p much everything I could've wanted!! Being asked "may I touch?" And then taking their jaw and tilting their head?! Peering into the hole in their head and going "O.O Oh Boy!" Getting to teach Ash abt dunamancy and the Luxon!! The only thing that could've made it better was if Essek mentioned the need to confer with his partner about it!!
My only dearest hope rn is that Some DayTM when all this is over and they get that chance to study a little more in depth, that Caleb can be there too. Idk if it'll ever happen again like that in campaign and not just post-campaign fic but!!! I was at peace for like 10 whole minutes there! nevermind Everything Else that happened in this episode!!
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masterqwertster · 10 months
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You know I love you, right? with Ashton and any of the bells hells
Gentle 30 Prompt So quote not directly used, but the spirit is definitely there.
They're running laps around Ligament Manor's tree because that's what Orym wanted: everyone exercising together.
Ashton has already lapped everyone but Chetney several times and they're still going while half the crew has dropped out and the other half is seriously considering it.
The problem is, he's running out of energy when he should be able to keep on hauling ass. A few days ago, this wouldn't even be a problem. But a few days ago, he hadn't–
burned. exploded. died. revived. hurt the people who mattered most. shattered their family. showed them all how fucking broken he is
"You okay there, Ashton?" FCG asks, soft concern in their tone.
Ashton blinks back to present, finding their pace slowed and FCG wheeling along at their side.
And their hand is pressed to their sternum, right over where the Spark reformed its crystal within their chest.
"I'm fine," they dismiss.
"Ashton," Fresh Cut Grass says sternly, coming to a stop, their halted momentum bringing Ashton to a standstill as well. "We all promised: no lying to each other on this retreat."
Ashton sucks in air through his teeth. They did all promise that, and they've all been holding to it. It's just... it's a stupid fucking problem that they won't want to hear about, won't be able to fix. So what's the fucking point in worrying any of them? Life moves on and "I'm fine" is a lie everyone tells, even to themselves.
"Ashton, what's wrong?" FCG insists, poking his side.
A quick glance reveals no one else is here for them to be vulnerable in front of. It's... easier, mostly, when it's one-on-one.
"I think it took something with it."
"The who the what now?" FCG asks, obviously confused.
"The Spark. I think– I think it took part of me with it, when I had to puke it back up. The previous crystal it was in shattered, and the new one... it made it from me. And now I feel... less. Less sturdy, less stamina. More... f-fragile," Ashton softly confesses, studiously looking away from their friend. They're no good if they can't take hits all day and keep going. It's the mistake that just keeps taking.
"...Well, I wish you woulda said somethin' sooner. I coulda tried to heal you up already if I'd known," FCG responds with a touch of consternation.
Startled, Ashton's eyes are drawn back to his smaller companion. The aeormaton seems to be considering their magic and capabilities, their spell components.
"I– I'm not sure this can be healed, Letters," they quietly admit. It's kind of why they kept quiet about it. Didn't want to get their hopes up, didn't want the disappointment of another hurt no one can fix.
"Maybe not. But I'm certainly gonna try. That's what you do for the people you love, right?" he asks with all the innocence in world. Like telling Ashton that he loves them doesn't shake the genasi to their core.
"I mean, that's what the definition of love you decided on sounds like. Being there for the people you love, no matter what. Helping them and supporting them through whatever paths they take. I love you like that," FCG continues on. "I wanna be here with you. I wanna help you. So I'm gonna try to heal you."
"...Okay," Ashton whispers back, trying to keep the tears from falling. "Okay."
So here's the deal, this is inspired by one of the uses of Greater Restoration being it can "end one of the following effects on the target: Any reduction to one of the target's ability scores." So technically, FCG (or Fearne) could restore Ashton's CON score back to 18, if they knew to try. However, I will be completely unsurprised if, should this actually be attempted, Matt vetoes it on the grounds of "you/your spell isn't strong enough to undo what was done by a titan shard."
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For Vague Angst Dialogue:
11 "They shouldn't treat you like that." with Fearne, if you please?
Prompt Ok, so, confession time... I may have been a little dumb and reblogged some prompts because I liked them, and forgot that they're for ask games. However, I cannot stop thinking about this prompt and I've been looking for a reason to get back into writing. So, thank you so much for the ask, and I hope I can do it some kind of justice! (However it may be awful kdlakjhdlajsh) This ficlet is set in the hotel room in Yios. Also, hope it's ok that I don't write the exact line into this. <3
"Can any of y'all smell burnin'?"
Fearne could, in fact, smell burning. Fearne could also feel burning. But just as she was about to leap out of bed, there was a hoarse scream, and a splash, and then in place of the fiery heat licking up her left side there was the icy shock of a cold glass of water.
"Take that, you little bastard hellspawn!" cried the tremulous voice of one Mr. Chetney Pock O'Pea.
"Chet!" squealed Fearne, shooting bolt upright and clutching a screeching, soggy and very displeased Little Mister to her chest "Why would you do that? He was just trying to make himself all nice and cozy!"
"Cozy? That creature attempts arson on a daily basis, Fearne! How long d'you think it's gonna be 'til he actually kills one of us?" Chetney questioned, his normally adoring gaze replaced with one of a very pissed-off and sleep-deprived old man.
"Rheaaahk!" retorted Mister.
"Awwww, my poor baby boy!" cooed Fearne, her attention immediately diverted "It's okay bubba, Mommy's got you, she's not gonna let the nasty little man hurt you anymore. He doesn't get to yell at you like that.". Mister draped himself over her shoulder with a foul glance at his attacker, and a few more disgruntled chatters. "There we go. All safe and snuggly". Fearne looked up from her position on the bed to see the rest of the Hells watching her, unimpressed but not sure how far to take the matter. A flash of worry crossed her mind. What if they tried to make her sleep separately from Mister? What if they tried to make her get rid of him? He was her only little piece of home, her constant throughout all of her travels and uncertainty. Without him, she would feel so vulnerable, so out of place, so-
Orym's tiny hand brushed her shoulder. "It's okay, Fearnie. I think he's learned his lesson for tonight. How about we find him some sort of heatproof blanket tomorrow? That's the joy of being in a city. They've got a fix for every problem, you know.". Fearne's jaw unclenched at her best friend's steady voice, and she was once again reminded of how grateful she was for the ever-calm and rational presence of Orym.
"Okay." she whispered, and stroked the soft (but slightly damp) fur of her beloved fire monkey.
The rest of the group made noises of agreement, and started getting comfortable again in their respective cuddle piles. Laudna wistfully stroked Pâté, before nodding at Fearne, and Imogen put a hand on Laudna's shoulder in understanding. Ashton grunted in acknowledgement before turning their back to everyone, and Letters gave a last nervous glance around the room before powering off once more. Relief and gratitude flooded into her bones at the immediate acceptance from her team.
"Sorry for throwing water at you, Fearne." said Chetney, a shadow of guilt on his wizened face.
"No, that's okay, Chet. Thanks for not letting me burn to death." replied Fearne. She laid down and offered him her arms, and drifted back to sleep with Chetney as a little spoon, Orym in the bend of her knee, Little Mister in the crook of her neck, and the knowledge that no matter the problem, her little family would always help her find a solution. Even if there was some impromptu baths, arguments and chaos along the way.
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calpalirwin · 3 years
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Summary: Ashton gets back to his craft
Word Count: 2.3k
And away, and away we go!
__
To say that watching Ashton under a year and a half of quarantine and uncertainty was difficult would be an understatement. Watching him ride out his lowest lows as he chased for the slightest high broke your heart in ways you didn’t know were possible. Sure, there were the moments when you thought he was pulling himself out of his personal pit of hell- the immediate release of CALM a week into lockdown, the creation of Superbloom and its release, along with the mini virtual concert. But oftentimes your usually happy-go-lucky sweetheart of a boyfriend was incredibly short-tempered, the smallest of things igniting a wildfire of frustration that tested both your patience and relationship with him. 
It was a tense year and a half, filled with screaming matches, tears falling like broken glass, and slamming doors. But it was also a year and a half of heartfelt confessions, new routines allowing for renewed intimacy, and selfish desires that the time would stay stopped.
Oh, but the way he lit up like the sky on the 4th of July when he learned the news that he could go back into the studio with his boys? Worth every damn thing watching his grin as he circled the date on the calendar in a wide streak of black Sharpie. 
And when those studio days turned into rehearsal days? You thought he’d fall apart as he tried to spit out the words. 
“BABE!” Ashton’s voice boomed the second the front door opened, loud with excitement.
“What?” you asked, coming to greet him.
Your own cheeks hurt looking at the grin plastered across his face. “Rehearsals!” he whooped.
“Are you serious?!”
“Yeah!”
“For tour?!”
“Yes and no. We have a show!”
“ASHTON!”
“I KNOW!” His arms were around you in a flash, picking you up and spinning you around as both of your laughs bounced off the walls. 
“Dizzy, dizzy!” you called out to him still laughing.
He set you down on your feet, and then his lips were on yours in a bruising kiss. “FUCK!” he couldn’t stop laughing or smiling. “Baby, I’m so excited. I have a show. With the boys. It’s real. We’re back. If we get to do this show… God, baby, it changes everything. I- It means we really get to go back. We won’t have to keep postponing our tour. We can put out the new album. And…” the words fell in a flurry as the reality of what he’d been missing for so long being within arm’s reach again set in. A rogue tear rolled down his cheek. “Fuck, I’ve missed this feeling.”
“I’ve missed seeing you this happy,” you smiled at him, catching the tear with your thumb before brushing his wild hair from his face.
“You’re coming right?” he asked, his smile faltering as his voice took on a note of fear. 
“To the show? Of course, babe. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
His lips curved upwards again, but it didn’t quite match the smile he’d been wearing when he first came bounding through the door. “And tour? If we get that far? If we get that lucky?”
“Stop,” you said, holding his face in your hands. “Stop the spiral. Let yourself be excited.”
“But-” The doubts were beginning to rear their ugly head. He had already allowed himself to believe the covid shit was behind him once before. 
“I don’t want the rug pulled out from under you either,” you told him softly. “But allow yourself this moment, Ash. And we’ll deal with the rest later.”
His eyes fluttered shut for a second as he leaned into your touch. When he opened them again, the kaleidoscope of colors that were his hazel eyes were soft. “I-” he started, words of how sorry he was for all the times he snapped harshly at you, how grateful he was for you toughing it out with him, and how he selfishly wasn’t ready to start missing you again a trapped jumble on his tongue. “I-” he tried again.
“I know,” you interrupted, stretching upwards to nudge your nose against his. “I know.”
~~~
While he hadn’t been able to get the words out, he found a different way of expressing himself in a way that left you both breathless and at a loss for words. 
And when you woke the next morning, rolling over to find his side of the bed empty, despite your excitement for Ashton, your heart ached for the reality of what was to come of him stepping back into the spotlight. 
But the bed was still warm, suggesting it hadn’t been long since he had left, and when you stumbled downstairs, you easily found him standing in the kitchen, his back to you as he poured coffee into two mugs. “Morning,” you greeted, wrapping your arms around his bare waist and pressing a kiss between his shoulders.
“Oh, hey,” he said, turning in your arms to kiss the top of your head. “You coulda stayed in bed. I was bringing up the coffee.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he giggled. “What? Did you think I’d left already?”
Your shoulders shrugged as you let go of your hold on him. “Yeah.”
“Without saying goodbye, first? C’mon, you gotta know me better than that.”
You shrugged again, reaching around him for one of the coffee mugs. “Well, thanks,” you murmured, taking a sip.
He frowned as he grabbed the other mug. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Y/N… C’mon, we’ve been stuck together in this house forever now. You think I don’t know when you’re hiding from me?”
“I- It’s nothing. When do you gotta meet with the guys?”
“Not for a while. Stop deflecting.”
You sighed. “The bed was empty, okay? Let’s face it. For the shitshow that’s covid, it gave us a lot of time. A lot of time we don’t normally get to share because of our jobs. And that’s all I want to say about it because I’m happy, Ash. I’m happy you have studio days and rehearsal days again. I’m happy you have shows again.”
“But you can be happy for me, and pissed about an empty bed. You can be both at the same time.”
“Yeah, but it makes me feel fuckin’ lousy, Ash. Like this is the reality of your job. We’re not strangers to it. I’m just being selfish.”
He chuckled, taking your coffee mug from you and setting it along with his on the counter. “I’m not ready to miss you either.” Then his arms were pulling you in close to him, his hold both strong and gentle. “Wanna be selfish with me before I have to leave?” he asked, his breath hot on your neck, the kiss hungry as it traveled up the column of your throat to your lips. “Be selfish with me until we can’t.”
And how could you deny Ashton’s request when he held you, looked at you, and loved you the way he did?
~~~
A couple hours after Ashton left for rehearsals, you left yourself to go surprise him. The house was too quiet without him, and rehearsals were different from regular studio time. More special in a way you couldn’t put words to. 
For some reason you were nervous as you pushed your way into the studio, his head snapping up at the sound of the door. “Baby!” he grinned up at you from where he was sitting on the floor next to Calum. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d surprise you guys. Bring you all some lunch,” you said, holding up a food bag as proof. 
“You’re the greatest,” he beamed, pushing himself up onto his feet and crossing the room to you. 
“So you rehearse on the floor?” you questioned with a teasing smile.
“Well, we were taking a small break,” he told you with a sheepish smile.
“We were actually ordering food, but this is way better,” Michael chimed in, taking the bag of food from you, and giving you a quick hug hello. “Ash is right. You’re the greatest.”
“Yeah, best surprise ever, especially for Mike,” Luke laughed and Calum nodded in agreement.
Happy chatter ensued as food was passed around, Ashton sitting as close to you as he could, his nerves making the tips of his fingers shake. “You okay?” you whispered, gripping one of his hands tightly in yours.
He nodded. “Yeah. Just nerves about getting back into things.” He gave you a quick kiss before getting up to go sit at his drum kit. And how he could manage to look both so at home and so vulnerable at the same time was beyond you. 
You looked over at the other guys, wondering if they were seeing what you were seeing, and Calum nodded knowingly at you while Luke and Michael offered up sad smiles of confirmation. Sighing, you got up and made your way over to Ashton, wedging yourself between him and his drum kit. “Talk to me,” you urged softly.
“It’s been a long time.”
“It has,” you agreed. “But you didn’t stop being a musician. You still played. You still made music this whole time.”
“What if we mess up? What if I mess up?”
“What if you don’t?”
He scoffed lightly. “I’m being serious, Y/N.”
“I am, too. Look, Ash. These are your boys. Playing music with them is what you were born to do. And I’m pretty sure they’re having the same worry as you about messing up. And it’s okay if you guys mess up. That’s why you’re having rehearsals.”
He let out a slow breath. “Yeah… Suppose you’re right.” He pushed his hands through his hair, taking another slow breath. “Okay. Okay, I can do this. Muscle memory.”
“Muscle memory,” you smiled reassuringly at him, draping your arms across his shoulders and leaning your forehead against his. “You got this, baby.”
“Will you stay? Having an audience… having you… It might help.”
“Of course, babe.”
~~~
The night of the show, you stood off to the side and out of the way as Ashton and the guys talked with the press about being back after almost two years of not playing a show together. You watched with a smile at the way Calum and Luke started humming their responses, and Michael took over the conversation when Ashton started fidgeting with his hands, giving Ashton that brief pause to collect his thoughts and settle his nerves. 
“Muscle memory,” you reminded him softly when they all came back to prepare to go on stage.
“Muscle memory,” he nodded, shrugging out of his jacket. But his hands still shook as he draped it over a chair. So you grabbed them, holding them still in your own hands. “Fuck, I hate this,” he whispered in defeat.
“You’re allowed to be nervous, Ash.”
“I know. I just hate it. Of all the feelings I’ve missed, this isn’t one of them.”
“So focus on that. Focus on how great it feels knowing that there’s a crowd of people out there waiting for you guys. And fuck the rest.”
“It really helps that you’re here, you know that?”
“I wouldn’t miss this moment for anything.”
“I-” he started, but a stagehand came rushing through, ushering them towards the stage.
You kissed him swiftly. “I love you, too. Now go be amazing.”
Again, with a smile plastered on your face, you watched them from the wings. It was effortless how easily they fell back into performing live with each other, as if covid had never stopped them. The perfect team of brothers. 
Ashton’s eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree when he came backstage, a sweaty smile on his own face as he hugged you tight. “That was amazing!” you beamed.
“That!” He pointed a finger towards that stage. “That I’ve missed!”
“This!” You grabbed his face in your hands. “This is the Ash I’ve missed.”
“I was trying to tell you something before I went on. Something I’ve been trying to tell you for a while now actually.”
“Oh?” 
“Yeah… I, um… Fuck, I dunno why this is so hard for me. But I wanted to say thanks. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to love lately. I know I’ve been more moody than usual under covid, and I know I’ve taken a lot of my frustration out on you.”
“Ash-”
He held up a finger, cutting you off. “Lemme finish. I- I know I hit some of the lowest lows I’ve hit in a long time because of covid. And I know this shit’s far from over, and there’s probably going to be more rough moments as we get back into the swing of things after so long. But thank you, okay? I dunno what I would’ve done without you.”
“Ash-”
“Hold on. There’s one last thing. When we go on tour, I want you to come with us. If you can, of course. I just… I’d rather not miss you if I don’t have to. I- I need you. In a way I never thought I’d need someone. And for reasons I don’t think I’ll ever understand. But I need you.”
“Can I talk now?”
“Yeah.”
“For as much as covid has sucked, it gave us a lot of time to be together. A lot of time we didn’t have before.”
“You told me that already.”
“Shush. It’s my turn. We’ve seen the best and the worst of each other. And for all the times we could have given up, we didn’t. Every unlovable moment, we just loved each other harder. And for a while I wondered why that was. And it’s like you said. For whatever reason, I need you the same way you need me. And getting to see you get back to being this happy again… I wanna keep seeing it. And I wanna keep seeing it in ways that don’t keep us apart. So… I was talking with my boss, and with the band, and your team. And this was supposed to be a surprise but…”
“You’re coming on tour?” he interrupted, voice full of hope.
“I’m coming on tour,” you grinned.
__
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calumxkisses · 4 years
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The One That Got Away | c.h.
pairing: calum hood x reader
genre: angst (again)
summary: part two of ‘Take My Breath Away’.
a/n: hello everyone! here I am with part two! I’m going through a lot lately, my mental health is not the best and writing an angst sequel seemed to be the best choice. I’m sorry, I promise I’ll write some fluff next! 
song for this part: the one that got away
♡♡♡ 
Smiling faces and dancing bodies were moving all around you, everything seemed to move too fast and too slow at the same time, making your head spin even more. Your breathing was getting more and more heavy and the tears flooded your eyes, to the point that you were seeing everything blurry.
“Take my hand.” Someone whispered close to you, inviting you to grab their hand. You didn’t recognize the voice but it was the only thing that seemed to be able to save you from that situation, so you grabbed it and, trying not to collide with the bodies in the crowd, you followed the body of the one who could only be an angel.
The evening wind hit your face as soon as you stepped outside, causing you to feel shivering all over your body and you cursed yourself for not wearing something heavier and more suitable for such a cold night. 
“Are you feeling better?” The voice spoke again. With all that confusion you didn't even have time to see who helped you. So you looked up and a pair of big green eyes was staring at you intently, with a hint of concern hidden behind the irises. His black hair was now messy and several tufts kept falling on his face, soon pulled back by his hand.
“Ashton, I-” Words made it hard to get out of your mouth, not that you had much to say. A second before you were dancing with Sierra, a taste of tequila in your mouth and a hint of a smile on your lips, and the next second Calum was on his knees, with a ring in his hand and a broken heart just a few steps away from him.
“Sierra went to grab some water. I didn't know anything, I swear, he didn’t tell us anything.” He spoke quickly, each word accompanied by a shorter sigh. Panic took possession of his every single cell, and the worry in his eyes was increasing by the second.
Calum had made a marriage proposal. He had looked for a ring for her, had asked her father's hand and dropped to one knee, on his birthday, to propose.
He loved her, everyone knew that, but you never expected his intentions to be so serious. You never imagined someone else would be standing in front of him, ready to scream 'Yes!' and to hug what you considered your soul mate.
On the other hand you should have expected it. Calum had confessed to you his intentions, or at least tried, a few months ago, before she interrupted you. You were lucky to have had the chance to talk to him, a fortune that had become less and less present after Crystal and Michael's wedding.
Not because you walked away, your heart was broken but it was still beating hard for the boy, and you needed to have him by your side, but because he didn't reciprocate that need. He no longer had the need to share his life with you, because it was now she who controlled how much he drank at parties, who consoled him during the darkest nights and who made him tea on the coldest afternoons.
“How’s she doing?” You heard Sierra ask Ashton, and only then you realized that you were lost in your thoughts.
“He proposed to her.” It was the only thing you managed to say, even though thousands of thoughts continued to float in your mind.
“I’m so sorry.” Sierra simply said, her hand on your shaking arm and her eyes carefully watching you, ready to hold you as soon as you collapsed.
But you didn’t collapse, not at that moment at least. Seconds earlier you were on the verge of a panic attack, with a broken heart and a mix of emotions that gave you a headache. Now, however, you no longer felt anything. 
Sure, a sense of sadness accompanied your every single breath, but you didn't feel anything so strong anymore.
What was left to do? By now you had lost everything.
Friday was no longer your movie night. You no longer spent nights with him star gazing after too many drinks. You no longer had to imagine a scenario in your head where you confessed your love to him - because it no longer needed. Calum was no longer yours.
Had him ever been? Once you would have said yes, you would have sworn that that bound you two had was too unique and strong to be experienced by anyone else. But looking back, in the middle of the night of that January 25th, the truth seemed to make its way through all those lies you had always convinced yourself: Calum and you had a good relationship, useless to deny it, but he didn't feel the same. He didn't feel butterflies in his stomach when he heard you laugh, he didn't smile at the sight of your smile and he had found someone who probably understood a little more about astrology.
"Sweetheart.." Ashton whispered, too worried about the thoughts you were getting lost in. He knew about the bad places your mind went and he knew very well that his best friend, no matter how hard he tried, was the only one who could come and get you back.
"I'm fine." You simply said, because you felt better, but you didn't know if the worst was over or if a tornado was preparing to overwhelm you.
"You don't have to lie, you can be honest with us. We are your friends, we are here to help you." Sierra looked at you carefully as she whispered words of comfort, ready to pick up your pieces if needed. Her hand was soft on your face as she tried to bring a few strands of hair behind your ears so that she could read your eyes.
"It was unexpected and I don't want to lie and say that I'm happy, but I'm fine." You kept convincing yourself. But a little voice, deep in your head, kept repeating Calum's words and you were sure that, shortly thereafter, you would explode. 
Maybe you weren't fine, the complete absence of emotion was wrong and you knew something was going to happen. A desperate cry, a furious scream, a leap into the freezing hotel pool, whatever reaction was preparing your body had to be hidden from your friends. You were in pain, sure, and you were going to suffer even more in the days to come, but they didn't have to miss such a happy moment just because you fell in love with the wrong guy.
Ashton smiled trying to convince himself of the words that had just come out of your mouth, but he didn't believe you and even Sienna didn't seem to have bought your lie.
But they knew, deep in their hearts, that pushing you to talk about it wouldn't do you any good. 
A deep sigh escaped Sierra's lips and, giving you a light pat on the back, she gestured for the door. "Do you want to go back in? It's cold out here and everyone is probably wondering what happened to you." Her words came gently out of her mouth, too worried that a harder tone would break you.
"I think I'll stay out here a little longer. Thanks for everything, I love you." You whispered, sitting on the ground and leaning your back against the wall.
Ashton gave you a kiss on the head before looking at you one last time to make sure you were okay. Sierra did the same before going back inside, followed by the black-haired boy.
Being alone was certainly not the best idea and you certainly would have preferred to have another shot of tequila dancing to some song you didn't know the name of, but you needed to breathe, to take a moment for yourself.
What will you do now? Certainly your plans didn't include Calum before, but they seemed to belong to a different you now. To a carefree, happy you, ready to take on the world. 
But now it all seemed so different, a single moment made you a different person, with an uncertain future that certainly couldn't be in Los Angeles anymore. Your friends were here, and so was your life, but you couldn't stand and watch someone else be happy next to Calum.
For a brief moment, you blamed yourself for everything. It was your fault that you hadn't acted, but it wasn't the time to continue digging your own grave.
"What are you doing here, doll?" He whispered and he didn't need to see your face to know that something was wrong.
This was one of your favorite things about him: he could read you better than anyone else. You didn't need to talk to know what you were going through and often he knew what you were feeling before you even knew it. 
Like that time when Michael jokingly made a comment about how you were dressed to go to a party. You were very proud of the choice of your outfit and you were convinced that those words didn't hurt you, but Calum knew that your big heart was paying attention to everything and he ended up spending the rest of the night telling you that you were beautiful, reminding you that especially when you lingered looking at the other girls' dresses.
Quickly you ran a hand under your eyes trying to eliminate any possible trace left by your tears before answering him with a lie.
"I'm just getting some air, that's all." You prayed that Calum would believe the lie and go back inside so he wouldn't make the situation worse.
"Then I'll keep you company." And there was no way to stop him. In the blink of an eye, Calum was sitting next to you, with his knees bent and his arms resting on them and the jacket he had been wearing divinely a few minutes before was now resting on your shoulders, protecting you from the cold.
"Thanks." you whispered without even looking into his eyes, you didn’t have the courage to show him all your vulnerability.
Calum noticed, as he had noticed your absence as soon as he got up after the proposal. It had seemed odd not seeing you again and seeing Ashton and Sierra running out with you, but he wasn't surprised. 
He knew that something was wrong, he realized how your eyes didn’t shine anymore and how you no longer smiled in his presence. And he missed it. He missed laughing with you, going on a walk with you through the crowded streets, he missed seeing you busy cooking his favorite dishes, and he missed seeing you cry for movies. He missed you.
He knew that he had neglected you, that he had abandoned you, he had realized that he had locked himself in his little bubble of love and left you to suffer outside, watching his perfect world as yours collapsed.
He couldn't understand how things ended, he didn't want to admit his mistakes because then it would all be real, the crack in your friendship would become too big and definitive and he didn't want it.
There was no longer the couple that everyone expected to see drunk together, there was no longer the chemistry that had distinguished you for years and Calum knew you were sad, he had noticed, but he didn't know why and this was hurting him, not because you didn't open up to him, but because he hadn't been able to understand for himself what was happening to you. He read you like a book, as always, but he didn't understand the words he read, not anymore.
"What is going on?" He whispered and mentally cursed himself for asking. He shouldn't have asked, he should have understood.
And for the first time, you felt you had to tell him. By now he had made the proposal, he couldn't go back, but you knew you had to tell him.
For yourself, because you would have removed a huge weight from your heart and for what your friendship had been, based on mutual trust.
And for the first time in your life you used all your courage, a courage you didn't even use to defend your friend from the bully in second grade, and you opened your mouth.
“I love you.” You simply said, knowing of the enormous act of selfishness you were committing. He was having a nice night and you just ruined it with your confession. The guilt made its way into your body, but it was too late now.
Calum had heard loud and clear and the words kept repeating themselves in his mind. He must have known that from the way you had acted when he told you about his girlfriend, when you stared at her from afar at parties and from the way you left at Michael's wedding.
“I love you but you love her.” You repeated. The words came out by themselves, he didn't answer and the silence worsened your mood. It was the only thing you were able to say. 
Calum didn't know what to answer. He felt great affection for you, but love? Love was something else, you taught him that. Love was what he felt for the girl who was waiting for him inside, with a ring on her finger and tears of joy in her eyes.
Calum didn't know what to say. No words would have been adequate, no words would have comforted you but a lie, but he had always told you the truth and he wanted to keep doing it.
"I'm sorry."
"Everyone keeps repeating it, you know?"
"I'm sorry because I care about you but not like you care about me and I don't want to break your heart." And he believed what he said. He loved you, he was ready to face the whole world for you, he would climb the steepest mountain to see you happy and he would break the leg of anyone who hurt you. But he didn't love you as you deserved, he didn't love you as you loved him.
"I know, Calum, that's okay. I don't want to lie to you and say I'm fine, but maybe one day I'll be better. I see how she makes you happy, I see that you love her and I'm happy that your heart is able to feel love. It'll be okay. "
You didn't know if those words were reassuring Calum or you, but you had to convince yourself. You had to believe it was going to be okay, that it was just another broken heart, that Calum wasn't your soul mate. It hurt to know he wasn't yours forever, but it would be okay.
"I don't want to say anything cliche but I want to tell you that you will find someone too. You will love someone more than you love me now. There will be someone who will know how much sugar you like in your coffee, what are your favorite books and that will bring you flowers when you are sad... it won't be me, but it will make you happy just the same. And I will be there, you know? Ready to accompany you to the altar if necessary. I will always be by your side. I know we are no longer as close as before, I'm sorry, but I'll always be there for you, okay?” 
It hurt to hear that, but Calum was right. There would have been someone else for you, but it wouldn't have been him. And it was enough for that night. 
Calum was trying to make you feel better, to sweeten your broken heart, not to make you lose the same hopes he had lost for so long. And you were grateful, deeply grateful, but the pain in your chest was returning and you knew it was going to stay there for a while, too long to be comforted by the very person whose party kept going behind the wall you were leaning on. 
"That's the problem, it won't be you. It will seem stupid, but I always thought we would end up together, in my head it was all planned: sooner or later it would happen, you would confess your feelings to me in some place of ours, like in the park downstairs on a summer evening, or after an adrenaline-filled concert or under a starry sky, at the party of someone we don't know. It was all so simple, wasn't it? I was so convinced you would be my one, that I didn't pay attention to what was really going on. And then you fell in love, but not with me. You opened your heart, but not to mine.“ 
In the distance, a song was playing. You didn't recognize the song, not even the singer, but you were sure it was a sad song and a little wry laugh came from your lips. What a coincidence, you thought. Someone else has suffered as much as you and has found themselves writing your emotions on a paper, accompanied by a sad melody and it was playing now, now that you were going through the same. 
You took a deep breath and continued. 
“And I want to scream at you, tell myself that it's your fault... but it's not. What is your fault? None, you fell in love, and it's beautiful. Feelings are not commanded, we cannot decide who to love Calum. You have not decided to love her as I have not chosen to fall in love with you. It happened, though, and that's okay." 
Calum kept silent, your words repeated in the silence of that cold night but no words seemed enough. What should he have answered you? You were right. He hadn't chosen to fall in love with her, otherwise he would have chosen you. The only one capable of always loving him, in joy and pain, in health and in sickness. And he had imagined where to confess his love, he had thought of the ideal place in which to express his feelings, but not you.
There were too many words pending, too many unspoken confessions and too many feelings at stake. You wanted to tell him how happy it made you to have him around, how you loved the way he paid attention to details, how he made you feel loved, accepted, appreciated. And how you loved the way he ran his hand through his curls, the way he cared if his old neighbor had enough sugar and the way he brought you melted ice cream, because he'd driven all over town to find your favorite flavor, ending up getting lost in an unknown street.
There were too many things you had to tell him, things that perhaps he deserved to know. But you couldn't do it, not anymore. Your selfish moment had to stop, because it wasn't right to ruin that special night, you had done it enough already.
"I think I'm going home, I'm sorry but I need it. I wish you happiness Calum, really." You said getting up and wiping the dirt off your dress. Calum sat there, his gaze fixed on you. His mouth opened for a moment, as if to say something, but then closed immediately.
"I know and I know I won't see you for a while. If you don't come to the wedding I'll understand, but I'd love you to come. You're still my best friend, you know, right?" In that instant, Calum felt something in his chest, a pain he hadn't felt in a while. He knew how everything would go and he didn't want to lose you. He loved you, but he knew things were going to be different now.
"You are still my best friend, Calum and I love you, even if you are a loser." You said with a smile on your lips, but one tear escaped your eyes, and another, and before you knew it, you started crying.
For the first time, Calum didn’t hold you. He didn’t stand up and whispered sweet words to you as tears flooded your face. There was nothing to do this time, he couldn't help you and there was nothing that made him suffer more than knowing that he would no longer be the one who would go through everything with you. 
Would you have remained friends? Probably, but everything was different now and nothing would be the same as before, like when you read each other’s mind, like when you spent whole afternoons cuddling Duke and listening to old songs.
"Don't be a stranger, okay?" He whispered looking into your eyes and a tear also fell on his face. He wiped it with his hand quickly so you wouldn't see how he was suffering too, he didn't want to make it more difficult, but you noticed it and your heart tightened a little. After all, he cared and you knew he always would.
"Okay." You reached down to hug him one last time, for a few more minutes. He returned the gesture, holding you tightly.
And for the last time, you picked up the pieces of your heart and walked away, leaving the curly boy who took your heart, who protected it, who kept it warm, safe.... but who had taken too much care of it and ended up breaking it.
Calum watched you go, turn the corner and leave his life and something broke inside him too, because for once, he wasn't the one who left and he wasn't ready to let you go.
Maybe if he had used different words, you would have stayed. If he had thought carefully about his life, his future, he would have seen you by his side, ready to conquer the world with him.
Would that have been right?
"Calum?" A soft female voice whispered behind him as the door to the outside opened.
And in that moment he realized that it wasn't going to be right, that you didn't deserve to suffer further and that your heart needed to beat again, to be happy… even if he wasn't the reason why.
And so Calum got up, wiped the dirt off his pants, kissed the lips of his now fiancè and went back inside, and while everyone was having fun, he couldn't help but think of you.
In another life, maybe, you would be his girl,
You’d keep all your promises, you against the world.
In another life, he would make you stay,
So he wouldn't have to say that you were the one that got away.
The one that got away.
-
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1994sunflower · 4 years
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but why did this get to be so angsty…..oops?
in which everything is a bit different when you get back together
Ashton had almost gotten used to your absence in their lives, especially after months without it. Almost forgot what it was like to see you going in and out of Michael’s room, hear your kind voice greeting him and especially seeing Michael so passive. 
Michael wasn’t constantly looking around, searching for anything that could irk him. He even managed to walk around campus without getting pissed off and beating some poor soul. Honestly, he hadn’t been mad at all. It’s as if that swirl of anger he had constantly felt without you had dissipated into nothing but gratefulness of having you back and complete veneration of you.
Ashton could remember it vividly, the way he barged into Michael’s room the morning after you had gotten back together. Of course he had no idea, no one did, yet. So it was an understatement to say he was surprised when he opened Michael’s door, ready to yell at him to get up and kick him out of the lows he always got when he didn’t wake up with you next to him like he had been doing for the past months, and instead to be faced with an already awake Michael. And not only that, a Michael resting comfortably in your arms, his head on your lap and his arms around your body. Your hand was brushing through his hair softly, your eyes gazed his face silently. His eyes were closed and Ashton couldn’t remember the last time he had seen him look so serene, so still, calm and at ease.
Michael himself wasn’t what was so surprising though, it was the vulnerable position Michael was in for you, the way he looked so peaceful or your presence. Ashton’s mouth had flapped open, unsure of what to say, what to ask. He was frozen. There were so many questions roaming in his head. Mainly, what you were doing there. Had Michael really found a way to worm his way back into your heart? Even after everything, had you found it in yourself to give him a second chance?
You only looked up when the door swung open and you gave Ashton a smile, a type of frail smile that said that everything wasn’t completely back to normal just yet. It was that which gave Ashton a lot of the answers he was searching for. Namely, that you were too good for this world, let alone Michael. But you were back anyway. And Ashton couldn’t help the relief flood through him. You and Michael had always meant to be together, if not obvious by how destroyed he was without you, it was with how, with you, he was at his happiest and healthiest. But that didn’t stop him from still feeling disbelief that you had gotten back together, after all those months of suffering, it was over. He wouldn’t have to be constantly worrying about his friend anymore, he would be alright.
“Good morning.” You said sweetly. 
Ashton had almost started to believe Michael was asleep, had let himself be lulled under by your soft touch and gentle breathing. But then Michael groaned out loud and raised his head enough just to hold you closer to him, his arms around your person tightening protectively. 
“Fuck off.” He said to Ashton. Michael had just gotten you back and he’d be damned if he let anything, or anyone, take away any time he had alone with you. He was soaking up everything he had been so deprived of for so long.
And there was the Michael the rest of the world knew. It was as if the universe wanted to remind Ashton just how different you two were, as if he needed a reminder.
So Ashton didn’t take offense when he slowly backed out of the bedroom, the door closing behind him. The shock didn’t wear off, the questions of what exactly happened, when they happened were still running wild in his thoughts. But maybe just knowing that something happened, whatever it was, was enough. That you were back with Michael and neither of his friends looked miserable, for the first time in a long time.
Of course, it wasn’t like it was before. You didn’t roam around the house with the certainty that it was your home too. Not for a while, at least. It felt like you moved with the hesitancy of a visitor. And he could tell it hurt Michael to see it. Michael’s heart clenched every time from knowing the pain you still felt was his doing. He watched you with worried eyes, frowning ever so slightly each time you would even the slightest thing off, like knock instead of using your key or ask if you could use the kitchen. He wanted to call you out on it, to insist that you stop feeling so foreign in the house he had considered a home thanks to you, he wanted everything to go back to normal as if his mistake never happened, but he didn’t want to push something he knew he was at fault for.
Michael had kept his word. He bought a new couch. A nice, white one that didn’t have the cracks and, well, character (or past) of the last one. But that was the point. It wasn’t as winding but it got the job done. Barely. 
Though, Ashton didn’t really feel like he could complain especially when Michael paid for it all himself. Michael bought it to try to mend the divide you felt between yourself and the house. But still, both of them noticed the way you would still hang back awkwardly just before reaching the couch. You would bite your lip, fiddling with the hem of your skirt and staring blankly at the spot. As if the portion of the room itself was a haunted place for you, one that brought too many painful and humiliating memories that everyone in the house was aware of. 
If he could, Michael would tear the flooring by its roots and replace it for you. But he couldn’t so the most he could do was usher you as gently as he could to the couch, holding your hand so tightly Ashton sometimes wondered how he hadn’t broken it (but frankly, with your small frame next to his large one, he wondered often how he hadn’t broken you, in general). Or Michael would take you away all together, to his room, or if you were particularly upset that day, anywhere else but the suddenly cramped house.
Michael had always treated you like you were special, much more than he treated everyone else. But this new level of devotion was jarring even to Ashton who had seen it all. Michael would watch you constantly, making sure you were happy, relaxed, comfortable. If there was even a hint otherwise, he was up and getting rid of anything or anyone that could be the cause. 
It was a lot like how it was in the beginning of your relationship. He spent more time with you than ever, if that were even possible. Texting every time he could, even if you didn’t answer, even if you were busy. 
He forced himself to be more open with his thoughts and emotions; not that it wasn’t something he wanted to do, it was just something he wasn’t the type of man to normally do with his quiet and daunting demeanor. But he did it anyway because if he wanted you to see how special and vital you were to his life, he needed to make you feel it. So every time he saw you, he would tell you how beautiful you were, how much he loved you, wouldn’t really ever want to leave your presence. It was reminiscent to a lovesick boy trying to impress his crush. That’s how he felt, really.  
Instead of you coming over, it was him that would always leave to go to your apartment, just like it was before you two were even officially together, or at the very start of your relationship. You spent a lot more time in your apartment than before, which was weird for Ashton to get used to. Not only having you around less than before but also having Michael go from never leaving his room to being almost constantly away from their shared house. It was to make you more comfortable. He knew your new attitude of uncertainty was because of the memories in his house and while he wanted to completely destroy that new association, he also didn’t want you to feel that way more than you had to, he wanted his girlfriend back, his relationship back, to normal. So if that meant barely spending time at home and instead in your apartment that had become more of a safe space, a place where it almost felt like nothing had changed at it, then he was up for it. There, you were back to the sweet, shy, happy girl he loved. You were playful, touchy and confident in yourself and the relationship. It was like being in paradise for Michael to hear your giggle, feel your intimate touches like when you placed your forehead against his, or blushed as he held you tight.
Whenever you did come over, he could see the difference in your smile. It broke his heart but again, he didn’t quite have the right to call you out on it when he was the cause of its change. It had gone back to being the big, bright and bubbly one it had always been. But it didn’t reach your eyes. Even your laugh, while ever chiming and like a melody to Michael’s ears, ended just too quickly and with not enough of a quirk to your lips to be natural. You were forcing yourself to look unbothered, maybe for his sake. And that just made Michael angrier at himself. You were hurting still. Less than before because you knew you were loved, needed, wanted, with Michael. But nevertheless, at least a little. And Michael was starting to feel a deep resentment at the house, the place that sparks all these feelings back to your mind and heart. At least you still had the same way of melting into him whenever he took your small body in his arms. 
That piece of normality was the starting point and the point that held out hope for everyone that was around to see that everything would be okay. Bit by bit, you fell back into a routine that was similar to how it was before. It was different mostly in the beginning but eventually you got to the point where it felt like no time had passed at all. Sometimes, to you and Michael and even to outsiders like Ashton, it was so easy to forget that there was ever a point where you weren’t together. 
Definitely when it came to your sex life. It was as healthy and frequent as ever, if Ashton was to be a judge. It shocked him just how much he heard you going at it, very reminiscent to the time before the breakup where he would constantly hear you through the seemingly paper thin walls and he would have to leave his home to give you privacy and himself quiet. He was beginning to wonder if it was to make up for lost time. He could almost believe the months he spent with absolute silence were a dream, one he likely wouldn’t get anymore. 
But your intimate moments with Michael were the most familiar. Everything was the same, your connection, the feelings, the words, the dynamic. You returning back to it felt natural, as if it was always meant to happen. As if you weren’t returning from anything because it felt like you were never gone.
-
Ashton had learned a while ago, even before you had gotten back together, that mentioning parties was a big no no around Michael. Sadly, not everyone was close enough to Michael to know that. Especially the guests that were trying so desperately to impress him. They never thought much whenever they spoke of it and that would just result in a world of problems for all parties. Maybe Ashton should’ve warned them, or maybe they should have put the dots together before they opened their mouth. 
Michael was always on the new white couch across from them, you curled up at his side, his knuckles brushing gently across your hip. His eyes wouldn’t leave your face, watching you with the precision he had begun to always watch you with, careful to look for any signs of sadness, upset or discomfort. And normally you didn’t feel any of that, you were fine. You were beginning to not feel that certain sense of doom, or have the awful memories creeping back to your mind every time you entered his home. Time was stealing your wounds and Michael was patching them up with love and care. But despite that, it was impossible not to feel the shame, humiliation and memories come back tenfold whenever the guests would make an attempt to get noticed.
“Michael, dude, are you going to the party tonight?”
Ashton’s eyes closed with dread every time. Your own eyes clouding over as if your mind was suddenly very far away, bringing you to where you couldn’t escape the hurt and embarrassment you had slowly been separating yourself from. If that wasn’t enough to alert, and frankly, piss off Michael then your tensing at their words sure did it. You were frozen.
His cold eyes shifted to his guests immediately, narrowed and angry. “What the fuck did you just say?” 
It wasn’t their faults, not really. But Michael took it as an offense that they clearly had so little regard for you. And showed it when he stood to his full daunting height, taking a step forward getting ready to take a hold of anyone he could reach. Ashton usually would be ready to step in between but it never got to that.
Your small voice would cut through the tension. “Mikey…” Your small hand tugged on one of his belt loops. “It’s okay.”
Ashton watched, holding his breath, as Michael sat back down. Albeit begrudgingly and still angry, but he said nothing more as he moved you onto his lap. Ashton wasn’t sure what angered Michael more, his own actions being thrown in his face or the effect they still had on you.
Or maybe it was both. 
Especially when it wasn’t just happening in an unassuming way like Ashton’s guests’ slips of the tongue. And it wasn’t just when he was around to defend you either. Because, again, it was different and no matter how easy it was to forget when you were alone, it wasn’t just forgotten. 
More than once had you heard whisperings of your name, heard the judgement passed between strangers to you whenever you passed by. It was easy to know what they were saying, how much they pitied you or felt your forgiveness was a disgrace to yourself. The stares, the judgement, made you feel like a doormat. At least thats what they thought of you.
You wished you were stronger so their words wouldn’t cut so deep. But even when you pretended they didn’t, Michael always knew. Maybe it was the way your smile was weaker than normal, you were less talkative. Or maybe it was one of those days you returned home crying. Either way, he always knew and he was on you immediately.
You never told him their names or faces, fearing his retribution to them would be worse than whatever hurt they could’ve cost you emotionally. It wasn’t that you regretted your decision, in fact in times whenever you were with Michael, especially as time slowly healed your wounds and made your memories bearable, you felt as if you couldn’t be loved more. You’d made the right decision and everyday you were reminded more and more of it. Michael’s regret made him become the man he had been with you and even better, making sure there was no way anything could happen that would take you away from him again, covering all of the bases. Everyone could see it, Ashton mentioned how different Michael seemed with you every time you were alone with him. And you were grateful that he hadn’t let his guard down after the first few months of you back together. 
There were issues, there were problems, bad memories and mistakes. But you were working through it. And you didn’t regret your decision to let Michael back into your life. Because Michael had made it quite obvious that he was utterly in love with you. You weren’t the doormat everyone thought you were, you weren’t the weak girl that took her cheating boyfriend back. And Michael bristled at the thought of those rumors swirling around. He hated the thought of himself as someone that did something that awful to you, even if it was true. And he hated people trying to drill the idea into you that you had made a mistake. 
Not when you taking him back felt like the greatest thing to ever happen to him, apart from having gotten you in the first place. He was more grateful to you than he was to anyone or anything before. Without your selfless forgiveness, he wouldn’t know where he’d be without you. He just knew it would’ve likely led him to self destruction. 
So he could easily feel an anger rise in him at the thought of strangers trying to make you feel bad for it. Tried to take away your sweet mercy from him. Tried to take away the most precious person in his life, the one that brought him goodness and love. His future. The love of his life. The one he had fought so hard for, regretted loosing and hurting, suffered so much without. Especially when he remembered how empty, sad and without reason he felt without you. 
But again, your relationship was different but only at first. Your relationship slowly healed back to normal, the difficulties being more at the new beginning where the wounds of the betrayal were still fresh and constantly being reopened by the slightest thing. Slowly it faded out. Time healed you, healed your relationship.
And when you were forgetting, so were the strangers surrounding you, even without Michael having to do much. He suspected it was Ashton’s doing, he had seen Ashton watching the couple whenever you murmured sad recounts of the day in Michael’s arms (the times you had been so open whenever it wasn’t just you and Michael - which was so rare), seen Michael’s hardened glares as he thought only of protecting you and keeping you with him. It wasn’t hard to imagine Ashton spreading the warning of Michael wrath if the harassment didn’t stop. Michael didn’t do anything to stop him, he was right. If it wasn’t Ashton, Michael would have been the one to deliver the message and he would’ve done it with much less decorum. And he knew you would’ve appreciated Ashton’s way much better. 
He didn’t deserve you, but he hoped you were good enough to know that and still love him despite it. And you were. 
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twstdreams · 5 years
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hello i loved the sabotaged flying and catching s/o post you did! if you don’t mind could you do a part 2? same situation except with characters ruggie, leech twins, jack, and a character of your choice plz? you don’t have to do it! but if you do it’ll be much appreciated:) have a nice day!
Previous request: (for context) During flying class someone jinxes their crush’s broom and sends them free-falling but just before they hit the ground the boys rescue them. To show their gratitude, their crush gives them an innocent peck on the cheek afterwards (oblivious to their feelings) before leaving
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Heroes, Villains, and the soft spot in between pt. 2
Floyd Leech
At first, Floyd is envious. Your flying looks like so much fun with all of the spontaneous ups and downs and spirals, maybe he’ll do the same when it’s his turn
Yeah, you’re screaming but maybe it’s from exhilaration? Like when you’re on a rollercoaster and filled with excitement
He realizes your screams are due to terror when you start free falling at a speed that can’t be safe while you wildly thrash in the air
Floyd scrambles to catch you in his arms, magic softens the blow, but the two of you are sent tumbling from the impact. You end up as a pile of entangled limbs with him below you to absorb most of the fall.
Floyd is a maelstrom of emotions. He’s upset that you lost control, he’s mad that he almost let you fall, and he’s certain, given the state of your broom, that something was amiss with it. Before he can act on his whirlwind of emotions, they’re all quelled by a soft stroke on his cheek.
“Are you alright?” you asked, eyes roaming his figure for injuries and tone filled with worry. Aside from the dirt on your uniform, you appear otherwise unharmed and that calms him more than Floyd will ever admit.
“No-oh!~ It hurts! Maybe if you give me a k-i-ss it’ll feel better?” he teases. Uncertainty and hints of disbelief swirl in your eyes as you bite your lip lightly. Before he can assure he’s just kidding, a heart-wrenchingly gentle kiss lands on his cheek.
“Feel better now?” you ask tentatively, “Did you cast some spell that needs kisses as a catalyst to heal wounds?” Floyd smirks at your naivety.
Jade Leech
Jade is reassuring you while you wait for your brooms. It’s your first time flying and you have jitters but it’s a compulsory component and Ashton Vargas is hardly the empathetic mushy type
Jade sees your broom is rather stiff and offers to switch with you, but you’re scampering to the start line before he can closely inspect your broom
You have an uneasy start, unsteady and quivering, but soon you’re high up in the skies with your classmates 
Then your broom sputters and in the blink of an eye, you’re plunging towards the hard ground
Jade acts quickly, casting a spell with an enchanted item, which slows your descent and has you landing on a magic bubble rather than solid rock. The bubble pops as you descend on it and you land on your feet and into Jade’s arms. Your fingers dig into his jacket in an attempt to stop yourself from crumbling on the spot.   
“Why don’t we head back to the café?” Jade suggests, his voice smooth and steady as it lulls you back to reality. If you looked a little closer, you’d notice how Jade grit his teeth, but at the moment you simply clung onto him for strength. You don’t trust your voice yet so you nod in response. In the distance, you hear chatter and screams, apparently, you weren’t the only one to fall prey to this horrid scheme. But with each step away from the chaos, a little bit of normality returns to your life.
“Take a seat here, I’ll get you something warm to drink,” Jade insists while pulling out a chair for you. You fiddle with the utensils as you try to distract yourself from that horrid first attempt at flying. The thought of ever going into the skies again is enough for your stomach to start performing acrobatics. 
“Enjoy.” Before your thoughts can spiral, your favourite warm beverage is in your hands. Jade sits beside you with a cup of his own, but he waits for your reaction.
“Thanks,” you murmur and bring the steaming drink to your lips. As the hot liquid runs down your throat and fills your body, you finally feel at peace. The corners of your lips turn upwards slightly. The warmth in your hands spreads to your heart. Impulsively, you turn towards Jade and share this precious warmth with a kiss to his cheek. An unexpected blush blooms on his face, but it only serves to make your smile bigger.
Jack Howl
He doesn’t really like you, okay? He’s not paying extra attention in class to you. You don’t catch his eyes or grab his attention.
He won’t unnecessarily associate with people, no matter how often his gaze wanders to you.
Then he hears your shriek and he acts on adrenaline. 
You’re falling and he couldn’t care less what anyone said about him. He could hardly be worried about looking vulnerable with your impending death
He breaks your fall, and both of you roll on the ground from the sheer force of the fall
His muscular arms wrap around your body as he takes most of the blow from the fall. Your head is spinning and you’re too unsteady and bruised to do much else but remain in his hold. He starts yelling but the ringing in your ears makes it hard to identify what he’s saying. 
“… so weak! … so stupid! What were you doing?” His mouth unleashes something in between a barrage of insults and a lecture but his trembling arms and contorted expression tell an entirely different story. He’s worried about you, maybe even scared for your safety.  Eventually, silence fills the space between the two of you but his arms still cage your body.
“Sorry for worrying you,” you said softly. You stare up into eyes with trepidation, and before your brain can overthink it, you clumsily kiss his cheek. The shock loosens his hold on you but his surprised visage is enough to send a deep blush to your cheeks. You quickly blurt out some sort of thanks and then run off before Jack has a chance to properly comprehend the situation.
Ruggie Bucchi
Ruggie notices some classmates snickering a bit too much, and he recognizes the malicious glint in their eyes even if they do try to conceal it
He’s not too concerned until he sees one of them point specifically at you
He’s a little surprised, Savanaclaw kids certainly have their flaws but at least most had the guts to openly confront each other. They couldn’t be bothered with subterfuge and sabotage, they just fought each other 
Ruggie wastes no time confronting the group, intimidation and confrontation a familiar tactic for him. He didn’t become the vice dorm leader of Savanaclaw Snaps through gentleness, and he extracts the information he wants
Unfortunately, the idiots don’t even have an inkling about how to undo the jinx. He snaps their wands in half from rage alone
Before he can teach them a lesson, your screech pierces Ruggie’s ears. Worry instantly fills his mind, Ruggie is used to breaking up fights, not saving people
Ruggie doesn’t have the same inherent fountain of magic Leona does, but it’s enough to cast a shaky spell that prevents you from splattering. It doesn’t stop the tree branches from smacking your body or the rocks from cutting your flesh during the fall though. Ruggie is by your side in an instant, cradling you carefully.
While all your limbs are intact, scratches and bruises litter your skin. White-hot fury flows through his blood. He engraves the faces of the perpetrators into his mind, planning to teach them a permanent lesson. Your groan brought his attention back to the situation at hand, and he barely suppresses his anger in favour of carrying you to the infirmary. 
With a gentleness that surprises even him, he holds your body like a precious doll or perhaps like a knight saving his liege. He anxiously paces outside your infirmary bed as your wounds are being cleaned and dressed.  Eventually, the two of you are left alone after being advised that you’d need rest and were excused from physical classes for a while.
“Ruggie?” you croak. His swinging tail stills at your voice.
“Yeah?” He trudges towards you. You beckon him with his hand, and he can’t help but follow, sitting beside your bed. Bandaged and weak, he has trouble finding the willpower to deny you.
“Come closer,” you murmur. He bites his lip but obeys anyway. Slowly, as to not agitate your injuries, you lift yourself up with a tired grin. Your lips graze Ruggie’s cheek, it’s hard to muster up enough strength for much more, but it’s enough to perk up his ears and his tail lets you know he definitely felt it.
“Thanks for saving me,” you whisper before closing your eyes and finally resting, feeling safe with Ruggie beside you.
Cater Diamond
Cater heard rumours of some students planning on hexing some brooms, but he didn’t think it’d happen, least of all to you. There were plenty of vengeful and colourful characters at the school but many were all bark and no bite
“HELP!” Hearing your plea for aid was all it took for Cater to kick it into high gear
Cater immediately grabs a broom and starts flying to catch you. 
The broom wavers a bit from the impact of you falling into his arms, but aside from messy hair, the physical damage is minimal
Cater teases you, saying how you’re lucky to have a friend like him to save you with a grin. He holds you a bit too tight which betrays his cheerful facade
“Safe to say that class is over today, yeah?” His voice is light but there’s a tightness in his throat that Cater struggles to bury. His arms haven’t left your waist, even as the two of you descend on solid ground.
“Thanks for saving me.” Your words are sincere but your voice can’t help but waver after the traumatic experience.
“I’d say we deserve a treat,” Cater declares. Your eyes widen, but since he just saved your life, you decide to trust whatever plan he’s come up with. A small fragile smile forms on your face as you nod. Cater keeps a hand on your shoulder as he guides you.
Each step is easier than the last and eventually, your legs have enough strength to support you. Even then, Cater keeps a hand on your body and its presence is reassuring, so neither of you comment on it. 
“Here we are!” Cater announces before opening the door to the cutest patisserie you’ve ever seen. Pastel pink and green are accented by white giving the shop both a spring vibe and elegant theme. Shelves are lined with macarons, cookies, petit fours, cakes, and sweets to tempt just about anyone.
One glazed cake catches your eyes with bright colours and a flavour combination that sounds too good to pass up. Cater catches your gaze and orders it before you even need to ask. The dessert tastes even better than it looks. The contrasting textures and complementary flavours make for a great bite of food.
You finally feel happy after that disaster and the person responsible for that is right beside you with an easy smile. An idea sparks in your mind and it must show in your expression because Cater lifts an eyebrow up in a silent question.  You press a firm kiss on his cheek on top of his Diamond.
“Not as sweet as these desserts, but I hope you accept it as thanks for today,” you explain. Cater feels his heart swell, grateful for the affection. He’s now determined to show the culprits behind your life-threatening fall how heartless he can be. 
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toohardtoforgetcth · 4 years
Text
Too Hard To Forget
Chapter Two
Warnings: Swearing, angst, the usual 
4,570 words
A/N: I’ve been waiting to post chapter two of this fic until I got some interest in the first bit so here it is! Feedback is so so appreciated since this is the first piece of writing I’ve ever published and I’d love to know what you think!
It had been twelve days since Parker’s awkward exchange with Calum at the record store, and eight days since he had put the fear of God into her outside Grace’s room. She was surprised to discover he hadn’t been in to visit Grace in four days. In the short time she’d known him, she’d come to realize that it was unlike him to go more than a day or two without visiting.
Despite being downright terrified of him, Parker felt drawn to Calum. Every time he knocked her down, she found herself wanting to come running back for more. Parker’s curiosity got the best of her, and she couldn’t stop herself from asking Grace where he’d been.
“Everything okay with your grandson—Calum, right? Haven’t seen him all week,” she asked nonchalantly, but the old woman saw right through her.
She smiled a knowing smile, making Parker blush. “I told you he wasn’t so bad, didn’t I?” she winked.
Parker made a face. She would never say so, but she had to disagree with her on that one. She wondered if Grace really knew the effect her grandson had on people.
“Anyhow, he’s been so busy with work. Poor boy. It’s a terrible job. He could do so much better, he just doesn’t know it.”
Parker pondered this for a moment. Hating his job would explain why he was so moody all the time—she couldn’t imagine having to wake up every morning and work your life away at a place that made you miserable. “If anyone can convince him, it’s you, Grace,” Parker smiled.
» » » » » »
Friday afternoon, Parker still hadn’t seen Calum. She had been hopeful every time the front door opened and disappointed to discover it wasn’t him. She wasn’t sure why she felt that way—Calum scared her, and she should really learn to just let it go. Maybe there was a part of her—a competitive part—that wanted to win his friendship, simply because his cold demeanor made him a kind of challenge.
Calum wasn’t a nice guy—that much was obvious. He had given Parker plenty of reasons to want to stay away from him. He was clearly not interested in her—as friends or otherwise. In fact, he had been nothing but hostile towards her since their first meeting. But still, she couldn’t stop thinking about the man with the chocolate brown eyes. She daydreamed about those eyes, his muscled frame, soft brown curls. He was alluring, and Parker wondered what he was really like, under all the black and tattoos and leather, wondered if he had a soft side that anyone besides Grace was ever privileged enough to see.
• • • • • •
Calum was sick and fucking tired of Tom’s bullshit. He was this fucking close to quitting today and telling him to go fuck himself when he got a call from Gram. No matter what kind of shit Calum got himself into, Gram was always there when he needed her most, saving him when he didn’t even know he needed saving.
“Hi dear,” her shaky voice sounded from the other end.
Calum sighed deeply. He missed her voice. He missed her. He felt like shit for not going to see her, but he’d just been feeling so inexplicably angry and irritable the past week, and honestly, it was draining him. He knew he should visit, wanted to, but Calum couldn’t hide anything from Gram and he didn’t want her to worry. And he had to admit that subconsciously, he’d been avoiding Parker. Calum thought maybe some distance from her would keep his mind from wandering back to her, but so far he had been unsuccessful. He had a pretty good idea why he had been so bitter lately, and it was because of a pretty blonde with grey eyes. Parker was throwing him off—he’d never spent more than one night thinking about the same girl—and he didn’t like it.
“Hi, pretty lady,” he breathed, relaxing a little.
“Everything alright, honey? I haven’t seen you all week,” she sounded sad. It broke Calum’s heart. You piece of shit, he thought to himself. She doesn’t deserve this.
“I know,” he exhaled. “I’m sorry, Gram,” he said sincerely. “I don’t have a good reason. I gotta get back to work, but I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay? I promise.”
• • • • • •
Parker was coming back from her lunch break when she noticed Calum emerging from the double doors of the lobby. Her heart skipped a beat when she locked eyes with him. His dark eyes bore into hers, leaving her feeling strangely exposed. He said nothing, looking away from her as he put a cigarette between his lips, stopping to light it as the door shut behind him.
She hadn’t seen him since he lashed out at her for listening at Grace’s door, but apparently Parker had a death wish.
“Hey,” she greeted quietly with a small smile as she approached the door, more out of politeness than to spark conversation. She knew he wouldn’t stop to chat with her, but Parker wasn’t going to ignore his existence, the way he did with her. Hopefully he didn’t rip her head off for trying to be polite.
Calum caught her by surprise when he responded.
“Hey.”
Progress, Parker thought. A definite improvement from the complete silence or burning hostility that he usually greeted her with. Taking advantage of his sudden mood change, Parker stopped in front of Calum. He watched her with curious eyes, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing a cloud of smoke to the side.
“Haven’t seen you in a while,” she observed casually.
“Been busy,” he replied with a shrug.
God, he made it so difficult to have a normal conversation, but Parker was determined to change his falsely skewed opinion of her.
“Grace has been missing you. She talks about you all the time,” Parker commented, heart picking up as she noticed his eyebrows drawing together and his shoulders tense. Shit, wrong thing to say. Fuck, here we go again.
“Like I said, I’ve been busy,” he pushed off the wall, standing to his full height and looking down at Parker. “Doesn’t really concern you, anyway, does it?” he spat bitterly as he flicked his half-smoked cigarette to the pavement, stalking away.
Parker stared after him, wishing she had kept her mouth shut. What was his problem?
• • • • • •
Later that afternoon, Jenna sat cross-legged on Parker’s bed, painting her nails. Parker lay on her back, Loki curled up between her legs.
“What’s got you all moody today?” Jenna pressed, recognizing the face Parker usually made when she was overthinking.
“Ugh,” she groaned, flipping over onto her stomach. Loki let out a displeased meow at being disrupted, launching off the bed. “Stupid Calum,” Parker rolled her eyes in frustration.
“Ooh, hottie grandma’s boy? Elaborate, please,” Jenna gushed, scooting closer.
“I ran into him at work today. I haven’t seen him all week, and then he showed up out of the blue. He actually said hi to me, so I tried to make conversation since that’s the most he’s said to me, like, ever.” Parker sat up, facing Jenna. “And then he just—snapped at me. I don’t know what I did—why he hates me so much,” she flopped back down on the bed, blowing out a sigh.
Jenna giggled. “Not everyone is going to like you, babe. That’s life. Anyway, he sounds like a total d-bag. Why do you even care what he thinks?”
“I don’t know,” Parker admitted. “He just seems—different. I can’t help but feel like there’s this whole other side to him and I don’t know why but I feel this, like, need to get to know him. He is a d-bag,” she laughed, “but I can’t stop thinking about him.”
“Sounds like you need a distraction,” Jenna’s face twisted into a sly grin. “We’re going out tonight.”
• • • • • •
Calum was sitting comfortably on his couch, trying to unwind with a beer and a bad movie after a particularly shitty ending to an otherwise great visit with Gram. He had been avoiding Parker, and after a week of not seeing her, he felt the unwelcome feeling of butterflies in his stomach the second he laid eyes on her. It was a sensation he was wildly unfamiliar with but had grown accustomed to feeling whenever she was around.
And then she had to open her mouth and ruin everything. This girl really knew how to get him going.
To be fair, she hadn’t really said anything wrong. Her comment only pissed Calum off because he had already been feeling guilty for blowing off his visits with Gram and he was mad at himself. His response was harsh—he could tell it hurt her. He wished he didn’t care, but he did. As much as he hated to admit it, Calum was intrigued by Parker, and it was unsettling. He didn’t like feeling captivated by her—it made him feel vulnerable and Calum was not vulnerable. Parker made him feel like he had no control, and he hated it. He was trying and failing to come up with a way to get this girl out of his head when his three best friends burst through the door of his apartment unannounced.
“Put a shirt on, we’re hitting the town tonight,” his friend Michael shouted enthusiastically, heading straight into the kitchen and rooting through Calum’s fridge for a beer. He pulled out three, handing one to Ashton and Luke before opening his own.
Besides Gram, Calum loved only three people in this world; Michael, Ashton and Luke. The four of them had been best friends since high school, and they loved Calum unconditionally, despite his harsh tendencies and his troubled past.
“Boys, I’m relaxing,” Calum stretched his long legs out on the coffee table. “I’m not in the mood for your drunken misadventures tonight.”
Luke launched himself onto the couch, head landing in Calum’s lap. “Too bad, babycakes, we’re going out. So get up, get dressed, get pretty. You got ten minutes.” Luke reached up and pinched his cheek affectionately, taking a long swig of his beer.
Calum rolled his eyes at the tall blonde with the bright blue eyes, but he couldn’t help the grin that graced his lips. He’d been thinking about Parker all day, and truthfully, he could use a night out with his boys.
• • • • • •
Parker was feeling good, having downed several drinks since arriving at the bar with Jenna and a few of her other friends, but she was getting tired of dancing. Deciding she needed a break, she and Jenna wove their way through the crowd of tightly packed bodies before reaching the bar. She ordered a vodka and cranberry for Jenna and a beer for herself. She was sliding her cash across the bar top when she felt Jenna’s hand close around her forearm.
“Oh, my god,” she leaned in. “You’ll never guess who’s here.”
Parker followed her friends’ gaze to the other end of the bar, where Calum was leaning against a pillar, talking with three other ridiculously attractive men. Parker groaned. She came out tonight to think of things other than Calum, and there he was, in all his glory, demanding her attention.
“Why are they all so hot?!” Jenna gaped.
As if on cue, Calum turned his head in their direction, his dark eyes meeting Parker’s. His face fell, clearly not impressed upon seeing her here. She looked away immediately, flushing.
“Oh, Jesus. He saw me staring. Kill me now.”
“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Jenna brushed her off with a wave of her hand. “Come on, let’s go back.”
She grabbed Parker’s wrist, dragging her back to the dance floor. Parker threw a subtle glance over her shoulder, where she caught Calum’s eye again. He was still watching her, not a trace of a smile on his lips.
• • • • • •
Calum stood by the bar, unmoving from his spot by the pillar. He’d been nursing a beer for the last hour, no longer in the mood to get drunk. His focus was on the blonde dancing with her friends, hips swaying and body moving in all the right ways. He hadn’t expected Parker to be here tonight, and it killed his vibe. The very thing he had come here to distract himself from was dancing fifty feet from where he stood, and he couldn’t tear his thoughts—or his eyes—away.
Calum was nothing if not experienced when it came to women. He had an attitude and a hard edge that women just seemed drawn to. He would never understand the obsession they had with the bad boy type, but he wasn’t complaining. Calum was not a relationship guy. He had two rules—never stay the night, never bring them home. Their place, quick and dirty, then disappear when they fell asleep—that’s how Calum liked it. He liked to be in control. That’s why Parker unnerved him—he’d never been drawn to anyone the way he was to her. She fascinated him in a way he didn’t understand. He’d been watching her all night, and he was starting to get irritated. He needed something else to occupy his racing thoughts.
“You got your eye on that pretty blonde one, don’t you, pal?” Ashton nudged him, snapping him out of his reverie.
“What?” Calum shook his head as if to shake the image of her out of his mind. “No. I just—I know her.”
“Bullshit. I know that look,” Ashton mused.
Calum scoffed. “I don’t have a look.”
Ashton was the oldest of the four of them, and he knew them better than anyone. There wasn’t a thing he could hide from any of his boys, least of all Ashton.
Ashton’s expression turned sympathetic. “Cal, you can’t tell me you don’t get lonely. All you do is work, and Gram is the only girl you spend more than a day with. Don’t you think it’s time to try sticking with one girl, maybe?”
“Fuck off, mate. It’s none of your business,” Calum snapped.
Ashton’s expression softened. “I’m just worried about you, man. We all are.”
Calum pushed off from the pillar, annoyed. He knew Ashton meant well—it was obvious how much he cared for his boys. Like brothers. He was the glue that kept them all together. He was wise for his age, and he was the one they went to when they needed advice. But Calum wasn’t in the mood for his profound bullshit tonight. He needed a smoke.
Calum pushed through the throngs of people in the bar, earning glares from a few of them as he shoved them out of his way. He felt himself calm down almost immediately once he opened the heavy metal door at the back of the bar, the cool air hitting his face. He stepped out onto the deserted patio, pulling a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. He lit it and closed his eyes, leaning back against the brick wall. He let the smoke burn his lungs, but it didn’t clear the fog in his brain like he had hoped it would.
Calum considered what Ashton said to him inside. He was pissed off at Ash for calling him out, but he had a point, though Calum would never admit it. He couldn’t explain why he didn’t want to settle down. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the girls he slept with, it’s just that he couldn’t see himself doing ordinary things with any of them. They were all just nameless faces, there to satisfy a need and that was it. He couldn’t picture himself waking up and making breakfast, staying up late watching movies, grocery shopping, with any of them. The only person he daydreamed about doing those things with was Parker. And that scared the living shit out of him.
Maybe his problem was that Calum didn’t know how to be someone’s boyfriend. He hadn’t grown up with parents, his grandfather died when he was only eight, and Gram never remarried. Calum was good at being alone. He wasn’t happy, but it was all he had ever known. The only girl he ever had somewhat of a relationship with—if you could even call it that—was Kendra, his first year out of high school. The rest of the boys went off to college while he stayed back and worked, and they dated for all of a month until she started sleeping around on him. He never loved her, but after that he decided that would be the first and only time he let himself care about someone.
When he finished his cigarette, he stubbed it out under his boot and headed back inside. He ordered himself another drink, returning to where he left the boys. Parker was still dancing, and Calum used all the strength he had in his body to force himself not to look at her.
A dozen feet away, he locked eyes with a cute brunette in a tight dress, leaving very little to the imagination. She flashed him a sexy smile, raising her drink to him.
Yeah, that’s exactly what he needed right now. A distraction in a tight dress.
He returned her smile with a lazy one of his own, which she took as an invitation to approach him. Good. Calum liked it better when he didn’t have to do all the work.
“Can I buy you a drink, handsome?” she asked in a sultry voice.
“Depends. You gonna take me home?”
• • • • • •
Parker took a break around midnight, her feet aching and her mouth dry from the alcohol. Walking past the bar to the bathroom, she caught sight of Calum sitting on a stool, a beautiful girl with long, dark hair standing between his legs. He was smiling, his hands on her hips, and Parker felt a pang of jealousy hit her in the chest. You have nothing to be jealous of, she scolded herself. He’s an asshole—why do you like him? In that moment, Parker realized that she most certainly had feelings for Calum, even if she didn’t really know anything about him. Even though she was confused about what those feelings were, she knew she didn’t like seeing him with another girl. Parker changed her mind about taking a break. Seeing Calum with someone made her want to down several shots and forget he existed.
• • • • • •
Half an hour later, Calum said his goodbyes to the boys, leaving the bar with his arm slung around the shoulders of the brunette. As they passed the dance floor, he scanned the crowd for Parker. Calum spotted her in the same place she had been earlier, only this time she looked up and their eyes locked. He flashed her a cocky smile and winked, feeling equal parts satisfied and guilty at the expression that crossed her features.
He’d have to be blind not to see that look. It was written there, plain as day, on her face. She was hurt.
• • • • • •
Calum untucked himself from the grip of the sleeping brunette, slipping out of the bed that wasn’t his own. He didn’t even remember her name. She was pretty, but Calum hadn’t really been in the mood tonight. Something didn’t feel right, and a nagging voice in the back of his head told him it was because of a certain grey-eyed girl. He found his clothes on the floor, quickly dressing and shrugging on his leather jacket before finding his boots. He tugged them on as he shut the door silently behind him, leaving the girl with nothing but his first name and a night she wouldn’t forget.
Calum couldn’t say the same.
Calum stepped outside, thankful for the fresh air—the girl’s apartment was stuffy as hell. She didn’t live too far, taking Calum only 20 minutes to make it back to his apartment on foot. Enough time to have a smoke and clear his head. Despite the smoke burning his lungs, he was unable to erase the image of Parker’s face when he left the bar. Why had he taunted her, on purpose? What reason did he have to want to hurt her? When Calum finally settled in his own bed, he found himself wishing he never went out tonight.
» » » » » »
Parker spent most of Sunday morning being lazy in bed, hiding under the covers until the early afternoon, moving from her bed only to be lazy on the couch instead. She was having a great night dancing with her friends and letting loose until a certain moody, tattooed brunette ruined her night by going home with another girl. She wished that it was her going home with Calum, and that thought disturbed her. He was an asshole and Parker knew nothing good could come of her feelings for him, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She had left the bar shortly after he did, her good mood spoiled when she thought about what he was doing.
» » » » » »
Parker awoke on Monday in a foul mood. She spent Sunday sad and stewing over Calum and how she’d never have him, but today she felt downright angry. Calum was a jerk and he was trying to hurt her, and for what reason? She deserved far better. Her sour mood only got worse when she arrived at work and spotted Calum in the hallway. He had his usual scowl on his face and he ignored her as he passed by, yet again.
Normally, she’d let it go and pretend not to let it bother her. Normally, she was a people-pleaser and hated confrontation.
Not today.
No, today there was no holding back. She was going to give him a piece of her mind.
She whirled around as Calum walked in the opposite direction, away from her.
“What is your problem with me? Did I do something to offend you, or are you just an asshole all the time?” she demanded.
Calum stopped, slowly turning around to face her.
“Excuse me?” he replied dangerously, taking a step towards her.
“Since the first time we met, you’ve acted like a complete jackass. Every time I see you, you either ignore me entirely or you try and scare me with that stupid badass attitude,” she paused. When he said nothing, she huffed in annoyance. “Get over yourself, pal. We all go through shit, there’s no need to be a dick about it.”
Parker was surprised at herself for her outburst, which was completely out of character for her. But Calum had pissed her off one too many times—he wasn’t getting away with it again. She placed a hand on her hip, eyebrows raised, waiting for an explanation.
The cocky smirk he wore turned into a menacing glare. He took two more steps towards her, their toes touching. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her face. He smelled incredible, like the woods, and spice, with a hint of smoke. Stop it, dumbass. You shouldn’t be thinking about how good he smells right now. His tall frame forced her to tilt her head back to look at him. His dark eyes glittered, but not in a kind way. He grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Watch your mouth, doll,” he said threateningly.
Parker’s spine chilled, goosebumps raising along her arms and the back of her neck. His use of a pet name gave her butterflies, but she knew he didn’t mean it in an adoring way. Calum frightened her—this she already knew. But confronting him was clearly a bad idea, one she hadn’t thought through—she was stupid for getting on his bad side. It was obvious he wasn’t one to be messed with, and he definitely didn’t have any qualms about voicing his opinion.
The rest of her workday she spent thinking about their confrontation. The unsettling feeling Calum’s presence gave her weighed heavily in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know whether her feelings towards him were attraction, fear, or a dangerous mix of both.
• • • • • •
This girl was going to be the death of him. Calum had been stunned when Parker called him out this morning. He hadn’t expected it from her, of all people. She was usually so bright and cheery, going out of her way to be nice to him even when he lashed out at her. And even though her words made him angry, all he could think about was putting that mouth of hers to good use. Calum didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to keep this up. The more she pissed him off, the stronger the pull was to her. It was beginning to become difficult to deny that he felt things for Parker.
» » » » » »
Parker and Jenna were dancing the night away at a club downtown on Thursday night, much needed after working overtime hours this week. She had had one too many drinks, her head fuzzy and spinning. She had Friday off, and she was looking forward to nursing her hangover on the couch, curled up with her cat and watching Netflix. Parker excused herself to use the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face in an attempt to sober herself up a bit, and when she returned, Jenna was wrapped in the arms of a guy that was exactly Jenna’s type. It was getting late, and Parker was drunk; she wanted to go home.
“Hey, I’m gonna head home. You coming?”
“I think I might stay,” she said, obviously distracted by the handsome blonde dancing in front of her. She turned to Parker. “Unless you want me to come. Do you need me to come with you?” she asked.
Parker appreciated Jenna’s offer, but she knew she didn’t want to go. “No, you stay. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Parker turned to make her way off the dance floor. “Be good,” she added with a smug smile.
• • • • • •
Parker sat on the curb outside waiting for her cab. She should probably have waited inside the bar, but she had hoped the fresh air would sober her up a bit. Her head was still spinning, and she could hardly keep her eyes open. It had been at least fifteen minutes and she was beginning to get tired of waiting. She could probably have walked halfway home by now, so she stood on shaky legs and headed in the direction of her apartment. She silently thanked her sober self for picking sneakers over heels. It was a warm night, typical of August, but she pulled her denim jacket on anyway, not wanting to have to carry it.
Walking through a particularly sketchy area of downtown, Parker got an uneasy feeling in her gut that she was being followed. She chanced a quick glance over her shoulder, and her heart started pounding when she realized her suspicions were right. There were two men walking behind her, picking up their pace as she attempted to pick up her own, but her legs were still wobbly from the alcohol buzzing in her veins. She should have stayed and waited for the stupid cab.
“What’s your hurry, sweetheart?” one of the men called out from behind her, his gravelly voice sending a shiver down her spine.
“Where’re you off to? We can take you home, honey,” the other one drawled, turning Parker’s stomach.
Parker all but broke into a run, desperate to make it onto the nearest busy street before they caught up to her. She could hear their footsteps closing in when a black 1970 Charger screeched to a halt at the curb. Parker stopped dead, panic setting in. Her instinct was to run, but her feet were frozen in fear. A hooded figure emerged from the car, slamming the door behind him. This is it, Parker thought. She prepared herself to fight back, but the three against one odds were not in her favour. The streetlights illuminated his face as the stranger approached her and Parker’s chest flooded with relief when she recognized those familiar brown eyes.
Calum.
On second thought, Parker wasn’t sure why she felt relieved to see Calum. She wasn’t sure if she was more afraid of him, or the two men following her. At least, she didn’t think Calum would hurt her. Would he?
“What the hell are you doing, walking around this neighbourhood at night by yourself?” he demanded, pushing his hood back.
“I—” she started, but Parker had to admit she didn’t have a good reason. It had been stupid to leave the club alone. She should have waited inside for the cab. “I don’t know,” she confessed sheepishly. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“No shit,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. He turned back to the car. “Get in,” he commanded.
Parker looked behind her, but the two men were gone. She was relieved they had seemingly given up when they realized she wasn’t alone, but her heart was still pounding. Whether it was from her close call with them or being close to Calum, she didn’t know. She followed Calum to the car and opened the passenger door. The smell of leather and spice enveloped her when she sat down, and it was oddly comforting.
“What were you doing out there alone?” he repeated once they were in the car.
“I was out with my friend Jenna. I wanted to leave, but she didn’t, so I called a cab—but it never came so I just started walking,” she explained.
“You should know better,” Calum berated, irritated. “Where’s your place?” he asked shortly.
Parker told him her address. She briefly wondered if it was a good idea, him knowing where she lived, but it was too late now. He did just rescue me, she thought. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have left me alone in the street.
She leaned her head back against the headrest, closing her eyes as her drunken state overpowered her ability to stay awake.
Calum pulled the Charger onto Parker’s street and glanced sideways at the blonde passed out in his passenger seat.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered. He got out of the car, opening her door and scooping her easily into his arms. She didn’t stir, but he could feel her breath against the bare skin on his neck. It tickled his skin, giving him goosebumps. She smelled like alcohol, and there was a faint trace of a flowery perfume. He carried Parker up the stairs of the front porch, using her key to unlock the door and stepping inside. He was greeted by a little grey cat meowing at his feet. He followed Calum through the house as he fumbled his way in the dark in search of Parker’s bedroom. He took a guess when he found the only room with a bed, setting her gently down and pulling the duvet over her.
Calum lingered in the doorway for a moment, his eyes scanning over her face, staring at her parted lips and then glancing at the cat that had curled up in a ball on the pillow next to her. She looked peaceful, and she was really kind of beautiful when she wasn’t running her mouth.
He let himself out, locking the door behind him and dropping into his Charger.
What the fuck are you doing, Cal, he thought to himself. He started the engine and peeled away from the curb. He drove for a while, no specific destination in mind, when he found himself parked outside of Ashton’s house. Subconsciously, he must have known he needed to talk things out with someone.
• • • • • •
He knocked sharply on the door, waiting impatiently. A few moments later, a tired-looking Ashton opened it, shirtless and in blue basketball shorts, his black hair in disarray from recent sleep.
“Cal?” he mumbled groggily. “What’s wrong?”
Calum pushed past him, walking to the kitchen to get himself a drink.
“It’s the middle of the night, man,” Ashton groaned. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.”
Ashton sighed in defeat, sinking down onto one of the barstools in his kitchen. Calum leaned against the island, downing his drink in one swallow.
“You were right. The other night, at the bar. The girl I was staring at.”
Ashton remained quiet, prompting him to continue. He couldn’t fathom why this couldn’t wait until the morning, but he didn’t tell Calum that.
“I think I have feelings for her. And I don’t know what the fuck to do about it. She drives me insane and she gets me so riled up that I lash out at her every time I see her, but when she’s not around, I can’t stop thinking about her. What the fuck is wrong with me?”
Ashton sighed, raking his hand through his messy hair. “Cut yourself some slack, Cal—this is new territory for you. There’s nothing wrong with you,” Ashton assured him.
“So why do I feel angry? Why do I keep trying to hurt her?”
“Maybe you’re just scared,” Ashton shrugged. “Opening up to someone puts you in a vulnerable position, and you don’t like losing control. You’re pushing her away ‘cause that’s all you’ve ever done, and maybe you’re angry because she’s making you feel unsteady.”
“Then how do I stop?” Calum questioned, feeling a little hopeless. Parker was kind, and gentle, and good, and Calum was none of those things—he didn’t deserve her. She was afraid of him—there was no way she was going to let her guard down around him after the way he’d treated her.
“You just have to let her in, man. You’ll never get a handle on your feelings if you don’t allow yourself to feel.”
» » » » » »
On Friday morning, Parker awoke with a hangover from hell. Her head felt like it had been split open, and her stomach was churning violently. She sat up, slowly, and noticed she was still in her clothes from the bar, minus her shoes. It was unlike her to collapse into bed without changing first. She checked her phone, several missed calls and texts from Jenna to make sure she got home safely. Then, the memories came flooding back to her. Calum brought her here. He must have tucked her into bed. He hates me—why would he do that? For the life of her, Parker could not figure him out.
taglist: @treatallwithkindness
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clumsyclifford · 4 years
Note
intimacy prompts - 37 with mashton? feels like it would work for them
i got this idea and then i just felt like a compelling need to write it im sorry im not taking these prompts literally enough however this plot is absolutely crucial frankly i don’t know why it’s not employed in fic more often
-
“This stuff doesn’t work,” Ashton says.
Michael frowns. “You’re saying you don’t want to fall in love with me?”
“I’m saying there are better ways to fall in love than to just a bunch of questions,” Ashton says. “If I were going to be in love with you, don’t you think I’d have done it by now? I’ve known you for, like, seven years.”
“I’m pretty sure you are in love with me and you’re just in denial,” Michael says dismissively. “But that’s not the point. I’m just curious. Look, worst case scenario it doesn’t work and we just become closer friends.”
“And best case scenario?” Ashton asks, raising his eyebrows. He can’t really think of a best case scenario here, because falling in love with Michael through a series of carefully curated questions just feels fraudulent, and Ashton wouldn’t believe himself if it “worked.”
“We fall in love,” Michael says. “Duh.”
Ashton rolls his eyes. “Fine. But I want it on the record that I don’t think there’s any merit to this experiment, and I’m mostly doing it so I can have material to blackmail you with.”
Michael smirks. “Sure you are.”
(And maybe a little bit because he’s curious to see what will happen. If maybe it is possible to fall in love in thirty-six questions. If Ashton were going to fall for anyone this easily, he reckons it would be Michael.)
-
Some of the questions are kind of funny. When Ashton asks Michael, “Would you like to be famous? In what way?” Michael snorts before going off about how badly he wants to be a rock star, and how he’s worried he’ll never make it, because everyone in his band sucks and he doesn’t know if this song he wrote is good enough for any record labels. Then Ashton hits him and tells him that if they’re really going to do this, they have to be honest, and from there it gets, well. 
“If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?” Michael reads, and then props his chin in his hand and looks expectantly at Ashton.
If Ashton had known just how probing these questions would be, he’s not sure he’d have agreed to this game. (If it can be called a game.) It’s not that he’s uncomfortable, but it’s hard to be open and honest like this, with no buffer, just him, Michael, and the truth.
“Nothing,” Ashton says, which is the only truthful answer he can come up with. Michael looks unimpressed. “I mean it. I wouldn’t want to know anything. What’s the point of life if you can just look up the answers? Why, what would you say?”
“I —” Michael purses his lips. “I’m not sure. But not nothing. I guess, I don’t know, I’d want to know if the band will last.”
“But if you knew the band would last, you’d stop working as hard to keep it together,” Ashton says. “And if you knew it wouldn’t, you’d just give up, wouldn’t you?”
“Would not,” Michael says, defensive, almost offended. “I’d do my best to make sure that future never came true.”
“It’s the future, Mike. It’s — it’s going to come true, that’s the point.”
“If the future tells me something I don’t like, I have every right to try and fight it,” Michael says stubbornly. “The band doesn’t tank unless I say it does.”
Ashton’s gut twists, although not in an unpleasant way. Actually, the dogged determination to protect what he loves is one of Ashton’s favorite things about Michael, and hearing him talk about the band like he’d rather die than lose it is making Ashton feel, well, something. He’s not sure what, and not sure he wants to know, although he has a feeling it’ll identify itself before the thirty-six questions are through.
They work through a few more questions in the second set. Then Michael, slightly strangled, says, “Uh. How close and warm is your family?” He clears his throat. “Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people’s?”
“That’s two questions,” Ashton says. 
“It’s written as one,” Michael tells him, turning his phone around like Ashton won’t take him at his word. “Well, uh. Go ahead. It’s your turn.”
Ashton bites his lip. “You already know all of this about me,” he says, which is an evasion tactic, and Michael sees right through it.
“You — it’s part of the thing,” he says. “If you don’t want to answer it, I guess…”
“No, I just — I don’t think I’m going to say anything surprising.” Ashton sighs. “How close and warm is my family? Enough. My mum’s gotten better at keeping us close. I think it helps that I have money now. My childhood was unhappy until I joined the band. So, no. I don’t think it was happier than most people’s.”
“Until you joined the band?” Michael echoes, tilting his head. 
“Yeah,” Ashton says. “Like, I didn’t really have anything pushing me forward until that. It gave me direction. And three new friends, which didn’t hurt.”
“You’ve never said that,” Michael says, studying Ashton. Ashton feels like he’ll wilt under Michael’s gaze, too vulnerable, too easy to pull apart.
“Yeah, well.” Ashton clears his throat. “It’s your turn.” He wants to avert his gaze but also really, really doesn’t, and is saved by Michael looking away to reread the question from his phone, and they move forward.
The deeper they get into the questions, especially in the third set, the more Ashton wants to crack a joke, and the worse it feels to do so. They’re in the thick of it now, and even if it’s just a test, to see if it works, it’s not exactly the kind of thing Ashton wants to laugh at — just in case it does. (It can’t. There’s no way it could, because Ashton’s known Michael all this time, and hasn’t been in love with him.
And yet.)
“Tell your partner what you like about them,” Michael reads. “Be very honest — say things you might not say to someone you’ve just met.” He gives Ashton a lopsided smile. “Good thing we didn’t just meet. Lay it on me, Irwin.”
Ashton licks his lips, which suddenly feel dry. “Okay,” he says. This shouldn’t be hard. There’s a lot he likes about Michael. But all of the things immediately flying to Ashton’s tongue are things he would say to a complete stranger; surface compliments, or basic acknowledgements of skill. You’re a good guitarist is ridiculously shallow, and even you’re very dedicated sounds too vague to be true.
“I like that you’re the kind of person who knows how to heal,” Ashton says quietly. Michael furrows his brow. “I mean, I like that you’re someone who doesn’t ever fully break. You’re — you’re so strong, and you put up with so much shit, and every single time, I think, this is it, this is going to be the one that breaks him, but I’m always wrong. I’m glad I’m always wrong. I don’t know what I’d do if you really did break, but I’m always amazed. I’ve never — I think I’m the type to shatter, but you’re not. You can pick yourself up. I admire that about you. I always have.”
Michael swallows. “Oh. That’s — that’s really, like. Thank you, I think.”
Ashton rubs the back of his neck. For some reason, he feels more like an open book from this question — which is really, for him, about Michael — than any of the other ones. “Yeah,” he says. “Uh, you go.”
“I don’t really know how to follow that,” Michael says lightly. Ashton cracks a smile. “Okay, well, um. Alright. I like that you have this, I don’t know, endless optimism. It doesn’t make any sense to me, because I feel like with all the shit you’ve gone through, you should be full of, like, hate, and anger, but instead you always smile, and you believe in people, and,” Michael gestures aimlessly, unaware of the way Ashton’s palms feel clammier every second, “I don’t know. You’re relentless in your optimism, even though you’ve been burned. More than once. I don’t think I could be like that if I — but you are. So…I admire that. It’s very — noble.”
“Noble,” Ashton murmurs, cheeks pink. “Thank you. That’s very kind.” 
“Not really,” Michael says. “It’s just true.” But that makes Ashton feel even warmer, a fizzing sensation building in his chest that he can’t really diagnose. He’s used to pressure like this, but usually it’s anxiety or something, not — whatever’s happening right now, doing this. This kind of pressure feels like it needs to be relieved by someone else.
They make their way through the last of the questions, and by the time they’re through, Ashton feels like he’s just been on the emotional rollercoaster of a lifetime. “I need water,” he says.
“Get me some?” Michael requests, with a halfway smile. Ashton chuckles and takes his leave, returning with two glasses of water.
“Well,” he says delicately, “how do you feel? In love with me?”
“It’s not finished,” Michael says. Ashton frowns; he’s pretty sure there are only thirty-six questions. “Now we have to look into each others’ eyes for four minutes.”
“What?” That’s just...strange. And the more Ashton thinks about it, the more nervous he gets. “Why?”
Michael shrugs. “That’s what the article says. Answer the questions, then look into each others’ eyes for four minutes.”
“Four minutes,” Ashton says hoarsely. “That’s kind of long.”
“I think that’s the point,” Michael says. “Shall we?”
Ashton’s panic response is kicking in, but he’s in too deep now to back out. “Sure,” he manages. Michael smiles, soft and small the way he only ever does for Ashton, and some of Ashton’s tension dissipates.
They sit across from each other, cross-legged on the rug, hands in their laps, and Michael sets a four-minute timer on his phone. “Ready?” he asks. Ashton’s not sure he’s ever going to be ready for this particular task, but it doesn’t really matter; Michael hits the start button and then he’s confronted with Michael’s eyes, gazing into his own, and the realization that it’s going to be this for the next four minutes.
For what feels like an eternity, Ashton twists his fingers around themselves, nervous energy manifesting in fidgeting hands, and he keeps wanting to look away, desperate to close whatever window is being opened right now, because he’s absolutely certain that Michael is seeing into his soul. Then Michael reaches across and gently wraps Ashton’s hands up in his own.
“Stop fidgeting,” he whispers. Ashton can feel the calluses on Michael’s fingertips skimming across the back of Ashton’s hands. He stops fidgeting, but Michael doesn’t take his hands back, and Ashton finds himself hoping he doesn’t decide to. 
Michael’s eyes are very pretty. Ashton zeroes in on that fact. They’re the kind of green that looks like sea glass, maybe, and they’re ridiculously easy to get lost in. Again and again, Ashton has to force himself not to look away. He’s never stared at anyone this intently, for this long, in this kind of silence that feels loaded with tension.
(Since when is it loaded with tension?)
Michael’s palm is warm against the back of Ashton’s hand, and Ashton thinks about that, about how Michael always feels warm when Ashton needs him to be, and thinks about the thirty-six questions, and wonders why they were supposed to make him fall in love with Michael. Most of those questions hadn’t been the kind of thing you’d fall in love with for anyone. Knowing that the last time Michael cried by himself was last night, watching Bambi, shouldn’t really make Ashton fall in love. It wouldn’t. 
Although the knowledge that Michael has been crying alone at all is pretty painful. So is the fact that Michael had clearly been relieved to share that information, as if, slightly less recently, he’d cried on his own for something a little heavier than Bambi. Ashton wants to know what it was. He wants to be the person who holds Michael together while he stitches himself up. Michael’s always had an instrumental role in his life — it had been Michael, in the first place, who’d recruited Ashton for the band — and Ashton could spend all his days trying to return that favor and still come up short.
The pressure in his chest, or the butterflies, or the sparkling soda, whatever it is is back with a vengeance, bubbling over until Ashton feels hot and cold all over. He tightens his grip on Michael’s hands.
The realization that they could kiss right now doesn’t so much hit as settle easily into Ashton’s already volatile mind. In fact, Ashton thinks, he kind of wants to kiss Michael like this. It feels like a natural extension of the questions and the staring, the next bridge to cross, the easiest way to communicate to Michael that — well.
It’s not that Ashton’s fallen in love with Michael, it’s just that maybe being in love with Michael has been Ashton’s reality for a little longer than he’d known.
As soon as that thought lands, the timer on Michael’s phone goes off, a breezy alarm song that startles them both. Michael tugs a hand out of Ashton’s grasp to turn the alarm off, and the eye contact breaks for a second, but Ashton stills feels like he’s in a trance, especially when Michael immediately turns back to him, eyes wide and questioning, head at a halfway tilt.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, which is not what Ashton had expected him to ask, and catches him by surprise, enough that he actually says what he’s thinking, though he shouldn’t, though it’s a dangerous train of thought, though it’s probably a mistake because Ashton still doesn’t really believe in the magical thirty-six (and a half) questions.
“I want to kiss you,” he tells Michael, holding unconsciously tighter to Michael’s hand.
Michael exhales, a sigh of…maybe relief. “Oh, thank God.” And he leans in, freeing his hand from Ashton’s grasp to put both palms against Ashton’s cheeks, fingers curling around the back of his head, and kisses him.
The bubbling pressure in Ashton’s chest feels light and airy all of a sudden. Ashton reaches for Michael, anything to get his hands on him, and settles an unsteady hold on Michael’s shoulders just to anchor them in place. The angle’s awful — they’re both still sitting on the floor — but the kiss feels like coming home, and it makes more sense to Ashton than most of the other things in his life. Michael is uncharacteristically gentle with him (Ashton’s seen him kiss other people, knows how rough and tumble he can be), and after a moment, not long enough, he breaks away, resting his forehead against Ashton’s. Ashton’s whole face feels too warm.
“Believe me now?” Michael teases. It takes Ashton a second to understand what he’s talking about.
“I’m not in love with you,” he says, but the way his heart sinks at that, and the way Michael flinches backwards, immediately disprove that statement. “Okay, I might be, but not because of the questions.”
Michael smiles, which turns into something of a smirk, but without losing any of its initial gentleness. “Well, it worked for me.”
Ashton finds that difficult to believe. “You can’t be in love with me now just because you know more about me.”
“Well, I already liked you a whole fucking lot,” Michael says easily.
Ashton does a double-take. “You did?”
Michael sighs. “Oh, Ashton. You’d be the worst if you weren’t the best.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Ashton says, although he fails to bite back a smile. “So now you’re in love with me?”
“I’d be an idiot not to be.” Michael pushes himself to his feet and then holds out a hand for Ashton to do the same. He doesn’t step backwards when Ashton rises, leaving virtually no space between them. “I want to kiss you again.”
“You can kiss me as many times as you want,” Ashton says breathlessly, and Michael does.
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calpops · 5 years
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So, what if after that meeting with Cal's friend, some of his friends don't really like the reader, not from the band, just someone from their friends group, and Cal really gets a little worked up about it. but Cal is a silent guy and i do think he has some problems with communication, so what if reader feels sth goes on in his mind, but he act like there's nothing here, because he is upset sb didn't like her, but he doesn't want to tell her and upset her too. so one evening 1/2
they are maybe at her place, having dinner and she decides to ask what’s been eating him these last several days. and Cal just goes really angry all of a sudden, like ‘i told you that’s nothing, why do you keep pushing?’ and he goes away without finishing dinner, because he’s afraid he’ll said sth else and he doesn’t want to hurt her more. and there’s radio silence for couple of days, and then he comes in the middle of the night and tells everyth and they have this convo about communication 2/2 
It’s been a few days since you met Calum’s friends. It didn’t go exactly as planned, more people had shown up than expected and it was hard to get words out among such a large crowd. But Ashton, Luke and Michael made an effort to bring you into the group a little further as the night went on. You figure that Calum probably told them to, but you appreciated their efforts nonetheless. You think overall it went well; it was a good stepping stone to getting to know more pieces of Calum’s life. But for two days now he’s been tense. Quieter than usual. You do your best not to pry but show that you’re there if he wants to talk. You want him to come to you, feel comfortable enough to open up and be vulnerable. You nitpick at why he won’t talk to you, wondering if it was something you did, if something went wrong at the studio or if there’s disagreements within the band. He shows up for dinner at your place just a touch late and you welcome him with a hug but his body language is wrong and his hold falls away much sooner than usual. You miss his long embraces. How he can get you on your tippy toes to try and cling to him even more. You made something simple for dinner and try to joke with him but his smiles are half there and gone in an instant. You reach over to him halfway through the meal, stopping his hand from picking up his fork. He looks at you with an arched eyebrow and tired eyes. There’s a long pause, one that’s hard to swallow and confusing.
“Will you please tell me what’s wrong? You haven’t been yourself lately,” you finally manage to say, the words rushed and a little fumbled as anxiety makes your heart pound harder and harder in your chest. You can’t begin to comprehend how he might respond, his eyes vacant of telltale signs. They’re not soft and crinkled with a smile but they’re not hard and cold as glass.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he says and pulls his hand away from yours. He taps his fingers on the wooden table, each thump beating in time to your heart that feels heavier and heavier.
“Cal, I can tell that’s not true—I’m here, please just talk to me.”
“I said nothing’s wrong. Can’t you just drop it?” He snaps.
You can feel that wildfire burning in your chest again. This time it’s not warmth that spreads through you. It’s agonizing heat that claws at you and rips at your nerves. Calum has never spoken in such a harsh tone. It jolts you. Silences you. Makes your head drop and your eyes gaze at your plate as they too burn.
“I just wanted to help,” you whisper. You’d speak up but you’re afraid your voice will crack and tears will fall and you won’t be able to stop them.
“There’s nothing to help with, okay? I’m fine.”
His tone isn’t as sharp and it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself than you. He pushes away from the table and mumbles about needing to be at the studio early tomorrow morning. You yearn to reach out to him as he walks out of the house but you’re frozen in your seat. Shock sparks in your stomach and hurt settles in your heart as the door closes behind him.
***
It’s been days since dinner had ended in disaster and Calum hasn’t so much as texted you back. You only sent one text. Just one to see if he was okay. You know he must have seen it by now but he stays quiet and doesn’t reply. You can feel aches in your bones at the thought that you’ve done something wrong but can’t even begin to guess what. You go through the days leading up to the fight but don’t see even a glimmer of a clue. It keeps you up at night, bags under your eyes and exhaustion hanging over your body heavily. It’s nearly one in the morning and you grip at your sheets, attempting to shroud yourself in the comfort of them, swear you can still smell Calum’s scent tangled up in them. Your phone rings and you bolt upright. Calum’s name appears on the screen but you let the phone ring until it goes to voicemail and stare at the missed call notification.
It rings again and you do the same. Not sure you can hear just his voice at one in the morning after days without him. A knock on the front door surprises you, immediately you stumble out of bed and down the stairs, heart rushing with you as you look through the peephole and see Calum biting his lip and knocking relentlessly on the white wood. You undo the locks and throw the door open, breathing uneven and standing still as Calum stares at you, eyes begging forgiveness and hand reaching out. You don’t reach out to him but you back out of the way and let him in. He paces a moment after the door is shut, hand on the back of his neck before he turns to you once more.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s nothing you did and you didn’t deserve how I treated you,” he begins and it’s as if he can sense the turmoil you’ve felt for days. He looks as bad as you, dark shadows under his eyes, lips bitten raw. “Someone just said something about you that I didn’t like. I didn’t want to hurt you. Didn’t want to tell you one of my stupid fucking ‘friends’ didn’t like you. Couldn’t bear to see your face when I said it. But I’m an idiot and only made it worse. I’m sorry.”
The burning heat in your body simmers back to warmth and even though you know the lack of communication is a problem you also know you’ll be okay. You go to him, tug on his sleeve and cast your eyes to the stairs, wanting to take him back up to bed.
“Say something, please,” he begs, voice raw and thick.
“I know not everyone’s gonna like me. It hurts but it’s not worth keeping it bottled up. I don’t like when you break, please just tell me the truth. Even if you think it will hurt. I guarantee it will be less painful than that.”
“I will,” he responds quickly, it sounds sincere and you know it’s going to need to be worked on but you’re willing if he is too.
“Promise me?”
“I promise.”
You throw your arms around him and he lifts you up, legs wound around his waist, nose pressed into his neck body tingling at all the contact it’s craved for days. He brings you upstairs and joins you in bed. Pulls you as close as you can get, you’re tucked into all the places you’ve missed and never want to lose again.
“Who was it?” You ask because you feel like you need to know. “Who was it that didn’t like me?”
He runs a hand up your back in the way he knows you love. “Trust me when I tell you they don’t matter. I’d tell you if they did, but they don’t.”
You accept that. Just glad to be back in his embrace. You’ll both work on the opening up thing when the sky isn’t so dark and your heart isn’t so tired.
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New Beginnings
Word Count: 1,141
Warning: None!
Requested by: anon
     “He keeps looking over at you,” Bianca says, smirking over the rim of her glass.
     Your back stiffens slightly at the thought of unfamiliar eyes gazing on it, “Who is?” you raise an eyebrow at her.
     “Calum,” she mumbles, even though the loud music pulsing against the walls of the party easily conceal anything less than a bloodcurdling scream.
     “And which one is Calum again?” you ask, trying to fight the urge to simply turn around and see for yourself.
     “The dark-haired one. Brown eyes. Bass player. Skilled fingers,” she winks at you, and you can’t help but laugh.
     “Oh, now he’s definitely looking at you,” she gushes, “I told you he’d be into you, and I’m never wrong,” she nudges your shoulder.
     You roll your eyes at her, “We’ve been here for over an hour, and he hasn’t said a word to me. I think you’re wrong about this one.”
     Bianca shakes her head at you before turning around and tapping her boyfriend’s shoulder to get his attention, “Ash, baby.”
     Ashton turns around and slings an arm around her shoulders as he leans into your conversation, “How can I help you ladies?” he smiles, the alcohol leaving a soft pink flush on his cheekbones.
     “Tell her that Calum is into her. She doesn’t believe me,” Bianca says, crossing her arms at you.
     Ashton pauses for a moment, “I don’t know, love. He hasn’t said anything about it to me tonight.”
     You perk up and look back at Bianca, “I told you!”
     Bianca ignores you, “But he hasn’t taken his eyes off her since we got here. Look, do you see him?”
     Ashton glances over your head for a moment, “You might be right, baby. He’s checking you out, Y/N,” he laughs.
     Bianca grins at you in victory, and you give them both an exasperated look, “You’re both full of shit. This is so stupid,” you say, spinning around to lock eyes on the deep brown pair that were, in fact, fixed on you.
     Bianca and Ashton giggle beside you as they watch Calum’s gaze break away after you raise a stern eyebrow at him. He raises a tattooed hand to brush through the thick, dark waves tousled on his head. Calum’s embarrassment keeps him from looking back towards you and maybe it was the annoyance of your friends’ pestering, or maybe it was the excitement of a new year beginning in just a few minutes, but something gave you the nerve to cross the room towards him.
     Calum’s back is to you as you approach, and Luke’s eyes widen when he notices you appear behind Calum. Calum watches the expression on Luke’s face change just before he feels your fingers tap his shoulder from behind. He turns to find the same rigid look you had given him across the room, and he’s at the loss for words, but luckily you speak before he can.
     “Are you going to stare at me all night?” you say impatiently, a hint of annoyance still on the tip of your tongue.
     Okay, maybe not so lucky, Calum thinks.
     He can’t help but smile when he sees your eyebrow raise again while you wait for an answer, “I’m sorry, we haven’t properly met. I’m Calum,” he sticks a hand out.
     You deny it, “Yeah, I’ve heard,” you say shortly, still waiting for an answer to your question.
     Calum slides his hand back into his pocket before trying again, “I was trying to think of a way to get your attention without looking like an idiot. Didn’t work,” he smiles timidly, desperately trying not to fumble over his words while being this close to you.
     You soften your gaze at the sight of his smile, his words feeling genuine. How could this guy be shy? Not only does he tower over you, but he had always caught your eye when Bianca would show you photos of the band. The thought that Calum plays hundreds of shows a year to thousands of people each night but is nervous about this finally gets a smile to tug at your lips, “I think ‘I’m Calum’ is a good start,” you answer.
     The sight of your smile causes his own to reach his eyes, “Noted. Do you have any other tips for me?” he asks, a little bolder.
     “I’m surprised someone like you needs any,” you scoff.
     “Someone like me?” he asks, amused.
     You look at him impatiently again before rattling off the same stats Bianca gave you earlier, “You know, tall, dark, and handsome. Soft, brown eyes. Bass player. Skilled fi-” you stop yourself, coyly pressing your lips firmly together.
     Calum smirks, and suddenly all of his bashfulness falls away, “Oh, no, please keep going.”
     “Like you haven’t heard it all before,” you fire back at him.
     “I’d rather just hear it from you,” he says blatantly.
     His sudden confidence and the way he’s looking at you now, no longer dodging your eyes as he had so many times before, is like the curtains have been drawn back. And even though it sounds like a line, there’s a vulnerability behind it that keeps you from giving another snarky response. Your eyes break away from his when the whole room starts counting down to the new year. With only 20 seconds left before midnight, you realize that everyone else is split off into small groups or pairs, and you and Calum will be sharing this moment together.
     The anticipation in the room is infectious and, at ten seconds remaining, you wrap your fingers around Calum’s wrist and squeeze it in excitement. His eyes are bright as he beams down at you and, once the crowd erupts into cheers at the beginning of a new year, you’re holding your breath as Calum leans in to brush his lips against your cheek. He pulls away just enough for his mouth to leave your skin but lingers hopefully for a second, close enough for your lips to meet his if you decide. You hesitate and Calum starts to straighten up, but your lips chase his before they can get too far.
     He’s stunned for a moment before his lips are moving against yours. The kiss is tender and the warmth of Calum seems to calm the backdrop of the party until all you feel is that warmth envelop you. It’s in the hand that cups your face and the one that wraps around your waist. You can feel it on your palm that’s pressed to his chest over his t-shirt, but you feel it the most from the grin he gives you when you pull away breathlessly.
     “Happy New Year,” he breathes into your ear, dropping his hand from your waist and taking his warmth with him.
     “Yeah, you too,” you sigh, already missing the heat of his hands on your body.
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bxcketbarnes · 6 years
Text
Drunken Words
Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader
Author: @ninja-stiles
Words: 2390
Author’s Note: This is just a thing I came up with since it’s how I’m feeling at the moment. I hope you all enjoy it! It will be angsty and fluffy, so :)
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I sat on my couch watching Ghost Adventures in the dark which is the only way you should really watch this show. Luke had been messaging me pictures of Calum drunk for the past hour and it’s actually been entertaining. The four boys had gone out since they had the next week off from promoting their new album. Calum was begging me to tag along, but I wasn’t really in the mood to go out and didn’t want to damper on their night. Although the bassist was reluctant of leaving me alone, he went with the boys anyway, yelling to me that he’d have a drink for me while he was heading out the door.
That was about three hours ago.
I was hugging my pillow as the GA crew walked through the abandoned prison, getting a lot of creepy noises and EVP’s when my phone began to ring. I jumped a bit at my ringtone, pausing the show before grabbing my phone, seeing that Calum was calling me. “Oh, Jesus,” I mumbled to myself, chuckling a bit at how this conversation’s going to go as I answered it, holding the phone to my ear. “Hello, Cal.”
“Y/N/N! Hi my sweet girl,” He slurred and I shook my head, biting my bottom lip.
“You feelin’ good, Cal?” I asked, grinning ear to ear as I heard the music booming in the background.
“I’m feeling pretty good, but it’d be so much better if you were here…” Calum mumbled and I frowned, twirling a piece of hair between my fingers.
“I know. I’m sorry, but I haven’t been feeling too great and you know I didn’t wanna ruin your guys’ night,” I told him again in case he forgot when I told him earlier. “Did you have a drink for me?” I asked, leaning my head against the palm of my hand.
“I did and boy, it was delicious. You would’ve loved it,” he muttered and I almost couldn’t hear him due to being in a loud bar. “I love you, Y/N.”
“You know I love you too, Cal,” I smiled sadly, knowing that I meant it way more than he did.
“N-No, I love love you. I have for so long,” the bassist slurred and my eyes widened, feeling my heartbeat beginning to pick up. My stomach churned, staying quiet for a moment as I replayed his words in my head, wondering if he meant it or not. I couldn’t hear any background noise and I furrowed my brows.
“Calum, where are you? I don’t hear anyone around you,” I mumbled not mentioning anything about what he just said as he sighed on the other end.
“I’m in the bathroom and I’m having so much trouble trying to get this belt off,” Calum told me and I couldn’t help but giggle, covering my mouth with my hand. “I have to go before I end up pissing my pants. Remember that I do love you, okay?”
“I love you too, Calum. Be safe,” I quietly spoke before he hung up. I set my phone back on the armrest, gnawing on my lower lip as I just thought about everything he told me. I rubbed my temples, groaning a bit as I continued my show, just needing to forget about it at the moment.
-
I woke up to the sound of my front door opening, slowly sitting up on the couch as another episode of Ghost Adventures was playing on the tv, illuminating the dark room. I ran a hand through my hair, pushing the home button on my phone to see what time it was. 3:30 am. I let out a small yawn, getting up from the couch as Luke and Ashton walked into the living room, holding onto Calum as the brunette was laughing at apparently nothing.
“Hey, Y/N,” Michael smiled from behind the boys. I moved out of the way as I motioned for Luke and Ash to put Cal on the couch.
“Hi, Mikey,” I grinned, walking past the red-head, going into the kitchen to get a glass of water and a couple aspirin.
“Where’s Y/N!? I wanna see my girl,” Calum called out as I laughed, grabbing the full glass of water and aspirin off the counter before heading back into the living room, setting it down on the coffee table.
“I’m right here, Cal,” I smiled, sitting on the edge of the couch as his arms wrapped around my waist, nuzzling his face into my stomach. “You guys can go. I’ll take it from here,” I told the three boys as they nodded, whispering a goodnight before leaving my apartment. I looked back down at the drunk boy who’s attached to me, running my fingers through his soft hair. “Hey, I need you to take this for me, okay?” I asked, grabbing the aspirin off of the table.
Calum nodded his head, sitting up as I handed him the glass of water, placing the pills in his other hand. He quickly took them, scrunching his face up a bit as I chuckled. He finished the glass of water, placing it back on the coffee table before returning to his position he was in before. “You’re just amazing, you know that?” He asked and I went back to combing his hair with my fingers, humming in response.
“Why don’t you get some sleep?” I asked, prying his arms off me as I laid the blanket I used earlier to cover him up.
“I don’t wanna sleep alone,” Calum mumbled, his hand grabbing mine as I sighed softly, rubbing the back of his hand with my thumb.
“Alright, come on then,” I smiled softly, helping him off of the couch as he did a little cheer. I chuckled at his drunkenness, wrapping an arm around his waist as his arm rested on my shoulders. I brought him to my room, pulling the covers off a bit before dropping him onto the mattress. “Man, you didn’t help me once there, bud,” I laughed, huffing a bit as I went to my dresser, pulling out a large t-shirt for me to wear.
After changing into my night clothes, I walked out of the bathroom to the sight of Calum lying on my bed in nothing but his boxers… something he’s always done. I blushed a bit, not used to seeing him so exposed even though I should be since we’ve been friends for almost six years. I slid into the space next to him, pulling the covers up to my chin as Calum moved to lay on his side, facing me. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, raising his hand to softly touch my cheek.
“Calum…” I trailed off, trying to figure out what to say when he cuts me off.
“I love you so much. I really do,” the brunette breathed, scooting closer to me as butterflies soared around in my stomach, gently gripping my pillow, trying to keep my breath steady.
“I love you too,” I told him and he smiled, closing the distance between us to press a short kiss to my lips. Once he pulled away from me his eyes drooped, falling asleep in a matter of seconds as I laid there, eyes wide, trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened. Did Calum seriously just kiss me? Holy shit.
I moved to lay on my back, staring at the ceiling as tonight's events just continued to play in my memories on repeat.
-
I woke up to an empty bed that morning, hearing constant talking coming from outside of my room as I let out a sigh. I glanced towards the alarm clock on my nightstand, seeing it was almost eleven in the morning. I slid the covers off of me, putting on a pair of sweatpants before heading towards the living room, seeing the boys sitting on the couch, chatting away about last night. “Morning,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes as all four heads turned to me.
“Morning,” they chorused and I chuckled, finding it strange at how well they can time their responses at the same time. I walked into the kitchen, seeing some coffee already made as I grinned, leaning on my tippy toes to take a coffee mug out of the cupboard. I poured some coffee into the porcelain mug, adding a bit of caramel creamer to it, stirring it.
“Hey, I need to talk to you,” I heard Luke mutter and I looked up, seeing the concerned look on his face as I nodded, moving my coffee towards the island, leaning against it.
“What’s up?” I asked, taking a sip of the hot liquid.
“Calum doesn’t remember anything from last night,” Luke mentioned quietly and my stomach dropped, feeling like I’m going to vomit as I glanced towards the living room, seeing Calum laughing at something Ashton told him. “What happened here after we left?”
“Uh-Uhm, well, I made him take the pills I set out for him and he did then he told me that I was amazing. I didn’t really answer him, I just hummed as I was playing with his hair then after a couple of minutes I told him to try to get some sleep. He said he didn’t want to sleep alone so I let him stay in my bed with me last night, which is something we’ve done before. L-Luke, he told me about three times last night that he loved me. He even kissed me before he fell asleep and now he doesn’t remember anything,” I explained, beginning to breathe a bit heavy as I gripped the edges of the island.
Luke rushed around the island, standing beside me as he rubbed my back, whispering reassuring words into my ear but none of it was working. He doesn’t remember anything… does he actually love me? “What’s that saying… drunk words are sober thoughts?” Luke mumbled and I scoffed, shaking my head.
“Luke, come on, that’s not a thing! Calum made me so vulnerable last night with his kind words and actions and now I’m just going to get my heart broken because there’s no way he feels that way towards me. I’m so stupid…” I mumbled, on the verge of tears as I tore myself from his grip, rushing back to my room but not without gaining the attention of the other three boys.
“What’s wrong with Y/N?” I heard Calum asked as I closed my door, locking it before sliding my back down it. I sat on the floor, hugging my knees as tears streamed down my cheeks, hearing their hushed whispers. I let out rigid breaths, running my fingers through my hair as I tried to forget about last night.
A soft knock on my door made me snap my head up, squeezing my eyes shut as I pressed my lips together. “Please just leave me alone…” I begged, sniffling a bit, wiping my nose.
“Y/N? Please open the door,” Calum softly spoke from the other side and I shook my head, not wanting to see him. My lip quivered as a small sob escaped my lips resulting in the doorknob jiggle a bit. “Y/N, please,” he tried again, hearing the crack in his voice as I let out a sigh, slowly getting up from the floor.
I opened the door and he came in immediately making me step away from the door as he closed it, locking it behind him. I swallowed thickly, playing with my fingers as Calum walked up to me, going to wipe the tears off my face when I moved away from his hand. “Calum… don’t,” I whispered, my heart clenching at the heartbroken look on his face.
“What’s going on? Why are you crying?” He asked and I stayed silent, wondering if Luke told him about last night. “Luke told me why you were upset and honestly, I wish I could’ve remembered it.”
“Why couldn’t you do all the stuff you did last night when you were sober? When you could remember it? So I didn’t have to wonder if you actually had feelings for me or not…” I trailed off, tears brimming my eyes again as he sighed, moving his hand up to wipe my tears again, but this time I don’t move away from him.
“Because I can’t control what I do when I’m drunk and apparently I thought it’d be better to do it that way in case you didn’t feel the same,” Calum muttered and my eyes widened a bit, my heart fluttering in my chest.
“W-Wait, you actually love me? Love love me?” I asked in a hushed whisper as Calum smiled softly, moving some of my hair out of my face, nodding his head yes.
“I’ve loved you for five years,” he whispered, closing the distance between our bodies as I could feel the heartbeat in my chest quicken. “I’m sorry for making you cry.” I laughed a bit, sniffling as I wrapped my arms around Calum’s shoulders, holding him close to me.
“It’s alright, Cal. The sadness has been consumed by happiness,” I muttered into his ear, his hands resting on my lower back, rubbing softly. Calum pulled away from me after about a minute, his hand resting on the nape of my neck as his thumb stroked my jawline. He leaned down, pressing his lips against mine as my eyes fluttered shut, my stomach churning as my hand played with the hairs on the back of my neck.
I pulled away after a while, needing oxygen as I panted a bit, feeling Calum brushing his lips against mine. He moved his hands to my hips, moving me back towards my bed as I fell onto it, Calum crawling on top of me. He hovered over me, placing small kisses on my face as I giggled, resting one of my hands on his bicep. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too, Calum.”
Taglist: @honeymoonmuke @somekindawonderfluke @dashlilymark
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lukeysgirl · 7 years
Text
Relentless | Calum Hood Series Pt.17
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                                       Part S E V E N T E E N 
Request: Being the cousin of Ashton Irwin was exciting, especially when invited to their tour to hang out with his best friends. You found yourself becoming fond of Calum Hood, who finds you annoying from your constant appearance. But what would happen if you stopped giving him that attention?
Word Count: 4k+
A/N: bEFORE YOU READ THIS, I HAVE IMPORTANT THINGS TO SAY. 1. sexual assault is not okay and i do not advocate it at all. theres a bit in there (not too descriptive) that i just want to warn about. and also keep in mind that i dont hate nia or anything, im just making a juicy story. okay, das it. hope you enjoy and please get this to 100 notes !! 
Parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty. [DONE]  
                                                  I M A G I N E 
Hilton Hotel, NYC, 7:25 P.M. 
“I already don’t trust this,” Luke whispered by your ear as the two of you stared at the embrace Calum shared with Nia. You couldn’t help but agree with Luke on this one. Even though it’s just a hug and nothing more, you now knew their history and noticed how she is holding him. 
She was intimidating, you had to admit. Her body had been perfect, with well-done hair and perfect cake worth of makeup. Her confidence was beyond you, wearing such small clothing to show off her belly and toned, long legs. And with the way she was staring at Calum when she pulled away from him, you could tell that she adores him just as much as you did. 
“The rest of the guys want to see you, Cal!” Nia cheered, her smile immensely wide as she wrapped her arms around one of his. Calum glanced over at you, pleading as he gave her an annoyed expression. “It’s been so long-- let’s head inside!” 
“I can enter without you dragging me, thank you,” Calum began as he retrieved his arm from her grip. He quickly grabs you over and wraps his arm around your waist once more. “Have you met my beautiful girlfriend yet, Nia? This is Y/N.” 
“Hi!” Nia said happily, rushing into you to give you a hug. You felt awkwardly uncomfortable. It was hard to think this girl was hugging you when it’s obvious you’re making her seethe. Especially because you won the heart of the man she adores so much. 
“Nice to meet you,” you said quietly, reluctantly wrapping your arms around her as you stood in the embrace. But as you guys hugged, Nia grabbed a bit of your shirt from the back and put her mouth closer to your ear. 
“Stay away from him for the night, m’kay?” Nia said softly, her words stuck with a bit of poison. When she pulled away, you stared at her. Her aim was to vex you with those words. And as much as you were tempted to tell Calum, you didn’t find it too worth it. After all, Calum was yours and not hers. 
But you noticed that when she looked over to Michael, he was right beside you. He was leering at her with those green eyes of his, having her back up a bit before turning back to give Calum his attention. You looked worriedly over at Michael, who shrugged it and gave you a soft smile. 
“Boys!” Nia called to all of them. “We have an area secluded for us. Let me get you a drink, CalCal.” As One OK Rock and Lashton walked inside, Nia turned back to you and smirked. “You can roam around if you’d like. It’s a party, you can have fun without Calum for a bit.” 
With that, she grabbed Calum’s hand and dragged him inside, having him look at you with sad eyes before disappearing in the crowds. Michael took initiative and guided you inside before closing the door behind the both of you. As much as you were digging the hype vibe, you couldn’t help but worry a bit. 
“I wouldn’t trust that girl, either,” Michael snarled. He bent down to speak right into your ear as the music was blasting. Lights of pinks and blues danced around with the party goers who were also talking over the music. “She’s a tricky one, she is.” 
“It’s not just that,” you breathed, placing one of your hands on your stomach. “I feel so bad for not trusting Calum 100%. I’m scared something’ll happen.” Michael wrapped his arm around your shoulders and gave you a gentle squeeze. 
“I understand, but don’t worry too much, yeah?” Michael tried to reassure. “Calum is really obsessed with you. If he does anything, I doubt it was by his free will.” You nodded, gulping your nerves down as Michael led you to the bar. 
“We’re already drinking?” You asked in a bit of shock, nudging the bleach-haired boy softly. He nodded vigorously, quickly getting the bartender to get two beers and two shots. “Already?” 
“You’re drinking with me, loser,” Michael gushed, having you playfully roll your eyes as the bartender returned with two Coronas and 2 shot glasses. You grabbed one of the shots, clinking it with Michaels before the both of you swallowed the substance whole. 
“Fuck, that’s strong,” you winced, feeling the poison burn down your throat. Michael nodded, couching a bit before grabbing his beer to take a swig of it. You took a swig of yours as well, attempting to wash off the rest of the shot from your throat. 
“Right? Holy shit,” Michael said, seeming very exhilarated from it. You giggled as Michael began to chit chat about stupid things regarding the management and Abigail Breslin. And it was nice to share stories and laughter with Michael, but your head was still thinking about Calum with Nia. But nonetheless, it was a pleasant time with Michael. 
“I better bolt soon,” Michael began as he checked his phone. “I have to be in their Snaps and whatnot so Hi or Hey has loving and ‘very close’ bands signed on their label.” 
“Understood,” you assured Michael, having him give you a nice, genuine embrace. As he let go, though, Crystal was suddenly beside the both of you with a wide smile. “Oh-- hello, Crystal!” 
“Y/N! How’re you?” The sweet, pink-haired girl rushed into your arms and gave you a hug. She was very kind to you, even if Michael always seemed to be fairly close to you. It made her seem like a spectacular girlfriend in comparison to yourself. 
“I’m well, and yourself?” You asked softly as you drank down your 2nd beer. 
“Also well, m’love!” Crystal gushed as she went to Michael and gave him a loving kiss. She wrapped her arms around Michaels lovingly, making your heart pause just thinking about Calum. You wondered if Nia was doing that to Calum right now. Nuzzling up against that strong bicep, staring at those meaningful tattoos of his. You felt sick just thinking about it and how paranoid you were being. 
“Oh hey, Y/N!” Crystal stole you from your thoughts as you stared back at the model before you. “Nick Jonas is looking for you, y’know.” Nick? He’s here? And he’s looking for you? 
This party is proving itself to be a bad idea. 
“O-oh, okay,” you choked up a bit. “I suppose I’ll go try and look for him. I’ll be seeing you two around, yeah?” The couple nodded, having Michael flash you some sad eyes before you lost yourself in the crowds of people once more. 
You weren’t even sure where to look, but you definitely didn’t want to 3rd wheel those two. The dancing bodies were collecting sweat and sharing energy as you struggled to weave yourself through them. But their energy was enough to make you feel breathless and you decided to forget about the Jonas brother. You fled outside to the large balcony, seeing less people residing there. 
Letting out a sigh, you walked slowly to the rail and hung your arms off of it. With the beer in your hand, you stared at the city and how the night sky highlighted the lights. New York City truly was beautiful at the night. It was too bad you couldn’t share such a lovely sight with your boyfriend. But what can you do? 
It wasn’t until now that you thought about how different your life was compared to Calum’s. This boy was travelling the world, delivering music and doing what he loves to do. He goes to parties with models and famous people who know his name like the back of their hands. Fans from all over go head over heels just seeing him on a photo. What’s gonna happen when you return to uni? Is he gonna drop you and snag a model who can go wherever because shes beautiful and wealthy? Will you just become a faded memory?-- 
“Y/N?” 
You suddenly turned around to find Nick Jonas right in front of you. He gave you his kind smile, with his teeth shining through with ease. He looked exhilarated, like this party fever was just a part of his blood stream. He opened up his arms to you, having you hesitate before going into them. 
“It’s nice to see you again, Nick,” you said softly with a smile. He looked at you, those eyes full of the same stuff that Calum stares at you with. But it was different. Nick’s stare didn’t drive your heart over the speed limit. 
“And you as well!” Nick said. “Look at you-- you look absolutely stunning right now, Y/N. How has the tour been treating you so far?” 
“Well, I’d hope!” You say sheepishly. You were wearing these black skinny jeans with a pastel pink sweater. With converse to cover your feet, you didn’t think much of your look. It was simple and sweet. “It seems you’re doing just as well as I last saw you, ay?” 
“I mean, I’m still disappointed about last time,” Nick said with a nervous chuckle. “Which I do want to apologize to you for. You were vulnerable and I just assumed that maybe kissing me would make you feel better. But I was greedy and honestly, I think you’re something amazing, Y/N.” 
“Th-thanks, Nick, I appreciate that...” You thanked him softly, looking down so he didn’t see your pink-tinted cheeks. 
“How did everything work out with that crush, by the way?” Nick asked with pure wonder. “--That is, if you want to tell me!” 
“Oh, um,” you began awkwardly, smiling a bit. “We actually got together. In fact, my crush was the boy who pulled us away before we could kiss.” 
“Wait, your crush is... Calum Hood?” Nick asked lowly. 
“W-well, he’s now my boyfriend, but yes,” you said softly. By his shocked expression, you felt like it was... wrong. “I-is there a problem?” Nick shoved his hands in his pockets before merely shrugging. 
“I dunno, that guy has hooked up a lot when we both happen to be at the same parties,” Nick said nonchalantly. “I guess I’m just surprised. At Calum for finding such a great catch like yourself and at you for liking someone like... him.” 
“Watch yourself, Jonas,” you semi-teased. You were definitely defending your boyfriend, but you were getting a bit tipsy. “That boy and I have history. I’ve loved him since secondary school.” 
“Ah, so it’s a childhood crush?” Nick asked. 
You began to tell Nick the story about meeting the boys as he led you back inside the suite. He guided you over to the bar and got you more drinks on his tab. The more you were being given, the faster you were losing to intoxication. Your body was loosening up, your chest was calming its paranoia, and Calum was quickly fading from your thoughts. 
You were losing your sober state to the power of poison disguised as alcohol. 
8:50 P.M. 
“Baby, I like your style!” You sang, with the people crowding you simply cheering you on. 
You were completely intoxicated, only able to feel the buzzing spreading all over your body. Nick dragged you all over the place, introducing you to new faces that you’ve seen on TV plenty. And instantly, they fell in love with you and followed your wild-self around. It was good to feel recognized and somehow appreciated. 
So there you were, with your sweater lifted a bit up to show off your belly to the crowd. You were swaying your hips to Drake, feeling the music surge through your body. You did several provocative movements, such as groping your breasts and biting your lips as everybody ate it up. It felt good to be watched and be a pleasurable view. 
“Yas, Y/N! Slay bitch!” Girls, who became your new friends, cheered you on as they rushed to join you. There you were with several models, grinding on one another and started some sort of twerking circle. You wouldn’t be doing this regularly, but your head was way out of space to even think. 
“I need a one dance, got a Hennessy in my hand!” You sang with the girls, feeling them grab your waist and dance with you. It was wild, but you felt so free and full of life. The girl dancing with you, a nice dark chocolate, was weaving her legs between yours to grind on one another while dancing. You wrapped your arms around her waist to keep her close, feeling the beat in sync with her. 
As the song came to a finish, the girls had slapped your ass before you dizzily tried leaving the circle. Nick was quick to your rescue, holding your arms to keep you on your feet. You looked over at him and started laughing, somehow in disbelief that Nick Jonas was in your presence. 
“Woah there, Princess!” Nick said with a chuckle. “Relax, I got you.” He began walking you over to the bar. Sitting you down on the spinning stool, you began to spin yourself as Nick ordered a Martini. 
“Wee, this is so fun!” You squealed, giggling uncontrollably as you spun. Nick quickly grabbed you, stopping you from spinning by his hands clinging on your waist. He chuckled at you, but you were surprisingly upset with him. “Why’d you stawp meee?” 
“Because you’ll get even more dizzy!” Nick exclaimed as he gave you an enthused smile. “And I don’t want this beautiful lady to get more dizzy.” You giggled again, placing your hand on Nick’s lips to keep him from talking. 
“If Calum heard you say that to me, he’d get so angry!” You gushed, giggling at the thought of your jealous boyfriend. You imagined his head blowing up like an airhead. Nick took your hand in his and gave it a gentle kiss on the top. 
“He’s too busy sucking lips with another woman, though,” Nick said, his tone seeming sympathetic but his lips were curved in a light smirk. You felt your heart hurt a bit from hearing them, though. You grew pale, looking at Nick with disbelief as he held your wrists. “You don’t believe me? C’mere.” 
After forcing the Martini down, Nick walked you over to the middle of one of the huge living rooms of the suite. You have literally been all over the suite except for one area. It was the room where Calum and the other bands were hanging out at. You had no idea why they were so secluded, but you did see some of the party goers go back and forth from the place. 
“Go down over there and you’ll see for yourself,” Nick instructed you, giving your shoulders a light squeeze before pushing you gently. You nodded, glancing behind a little to see Nick tap at his phone. “I’ll be waiting right here for you!” He yelled, giving you a soft smile. 
You walked down, your legs feeling heavy as you transition from a lively room dancing to Rather Be into a more quiet, tamed room. Unlike the bright lights from before, this room was ornate with dark reds and blacks. The soft bass from Passionfruit was playing, feeling Drake suck you up again. As you walked, you entered a more chill room with sensual dancers. 
You noticed Michael and Crystal among the dancers, seeing them talk and laugh softly to one another. It made you smile to see Michael so content with his life at the moment. Scanning some more, you noticed Ashton doing a bit of drinking with a few guys and girls at the bar. Turning some more, you saw Luke at the corner with a phone in his ear and frustration in his face. You looked much harder for Calum. 
Then you spotted him. 
He was in a booth with Nia. Across from her were 2 more girls, a blonde who was smiling politely. The other looked like Nia cloned herself just to be with Calum twice as much. It made you almost vomit to see 2 of her near Calum. As you were walking over to rip your boyfriend away from her, Nia suddenly grabbed his shift and pulled him onto her. Nia’s blue eyes shifted at you to give you a brief wink. 
Their lips touched. 
Overwhelming emotion overcame you as you quickly turned around and ran out of the room. You couldn’t even dare stay to watch. You went back to the loudness and the insane energy, with tears building in your eyes. Your hands were shaking and you didn’t even want to move anymore. But you needed to be as far away from Calum as possible. 
“Y/N?” Nick called to you, having you tilt your head up as you quickly rushed into his arms. He held you close in his warm embrace, making you feel somewhat safe as you cried into his shirt. You felt bad for dirtying his shirt with a bit of makeup, but you couldn’t help it. Your heart was broken. 
“You were right,” you cried, your hands grabbing harshly at Nick’s shirt at his chest. “He... he kissed... her...” You sniffled harshly, feeling your bottom lip quiver as Nick held you stronger. 
“It’s okay, Y/N, please stop crying!” Nick insisted as he quickly whistled at someone. You watch as someone passed him a water bottle before he began guiding you up a flight of stairs to the roof. You didn’t want to do anything, but Nick insisted as he opened the door to reveal the rooftop to you. He tossed you the water, which you gulped down quickly. 
It was beautiful. Several couches and beach chairs were laid out all over, with Christmas lights wrapped around the poles to spread all over. Tables were scattered with candles and empty bottles of beer. It was pretty vacant, surprisingly. Nick guided you over to a fairly quiet part of the balcony by a railing. He leaned you against it, just like Calum did when the two of you were at the park. 
“Stop crying, okay?” Nick whispered at you, his nose practically 2 inches from yours. His eyes contained an intensity that reminded you of Calum’s whenever he was speaking seriously. “You’re so beautiful to be crying over someone who doesn’t even deserve you.” 
“I just... how can he do that to me?” You began shakily, feeling your hands shake uncontrollably. Nick rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth. 
“Fuck Calum, when you can have a man like me.” Nick growled seductively before latching his lips onto your nick. Kisses were being planted on your neck, having some sort of pleasure jolt inside you. His tongue was swiping along it as he nibbled on your neck. 
He rose a bit and began to kiss your jawline, feeling his chin hair tickle you slightly. Your eyes were completely shut, too intoxicated to realize much. The pleasure was playing with your heart too much, having you love the way these pair of lips felt on your neck. You randomly found yourself thinking it was Calum. 
But Nick’s hands suddenly grabbed your waist, slipping under your shirt to touch your tender skin. His fingers were rough, but there were smooth callouses on them. It was very unlike Calum’s. Calum doesn’t even bother trying to make his hands soft. That’s what makes him so unique and familiar. 
You realized then that it wasn’t your beloved boyfriend. Opening your eyes, you look down to feel Nick dig his hands into your jeans. You quickly placed your hands on his chest and tried pushing him away, but he was strongly stood in front of you. 
“N-Nick, please stop...” You whispered, using all yoru stretch to push the Jonas brother away from you. But that only caused him to bite gently on your neck. You moaned harshly with pure distaste in your tone. 
“Let me show you a good time, Princess,” Nick growled on your neck as his hands clasped at your underwear. He used one of his hands to pull your jeans from your body so the other had more space to roam. You felt his hand touch the beginnings of your no-no zone, causing you to freak out even further. 
“Nick, fucking stop!” You screamed, dropping your hands down to grab his wrist and pull it away. Although it was somewhat working, he was still rather strong as his hand stayed against your warm skin. “Calum! Calum, please!” You pleaded for your boyfriend, your sadness completely being replaced with desperation. You shut your eyes, feeling your force give out as Nick went deeper into your pants. 
But, within seconds, Nick’s lips were gone from your neck and his hand was removed from your pants. 
Opening your eyes, you see Calum looking down angrily at a fallen Nick. You looked down to see Calum’s fist, with was shaking from the adrenaline of punching the Jonas brother. Your heart began to race, seeing the fury of Calum’s heaving chest as he glared. 
“Y/N, what the fuck?” Calum spat at you, having you look at him to collect tears in your eyes again. He looked mad-- no, he is mad. His brown eyes intensely looked at yours, reminding yourself of the only stare that goes straight into your heart. 
“Don’t ‘what the fuck’ my cousin like she did something wrong!” Ashton barked as the boys came rushing over. “She was crying your fucking name and pleading for damn help! You think she enjoyed that?” 
Why are you so angry with me?
“Why the fuck was she even with him in the first place?” Calum barked back, keeping his eyes in you as Michael and Luke walked over. You lost your gaze with Calum for a moment, feeling yourself feel woozy and sick from everything. 
You left me alone. 
“Before you start blowing your fucking lid off,” Michael began, going over to you to rest a hand on your shoulder. You flinched. “Let’s put our attention to how Y/N was just fucking sexually assaulted.” Michael looked over at Nick and spat out rude Australian terms. 
“But he has tried to fucking kiss her before, mate!” Calum hissed at Michael. “You’d figure she’d know better and avoid this asshole.” Calum glared at Nick, who was sitting up and rubbing his cheek where he was punched. 
Then why didn’t you stay with me?
“She always sees the best in people, Calum,” Michael rolled his eyes. “Also keep in mind that you left her. Fucking look at her-- Jesus, she’s fucking trembling, mate!” 
“I didn’t want to-- we had to do that thing for the management!” Calum tried to defend. “You had to go, too!” 
Your job is before me, isn’t it?
“Yeah, but I brought my fucking girlfriend along!” Michael barked. “This wouldn’t have happened if you fucking didn’t submit to Nia and brought your fucking girlfriend with you! Fuck the management when you have your one and only to fucking take care off!” 
“At least Y/N didn’t fucking cheat,” Luke spat. “You and Arzaylea would be great for one another.” Calum looked like he wanted to punch Luke as well. But you were slowly shutting them out as they bickered among themselves. Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, your heart wouldn’t stop racing, and your body was so tempted to vomit. 
Everything went too fast, far too fast. The boy’s words were fading from your ear as you remember the way you were being touched. Not by Calum, but by another man. His job was more important than you. Why? Why wasn’t he there? Why didn’t he bring you or stay with you. Everything you want to say can’t be said. They won’t come out. 
You quickly ran into Ashton’s arms and grabbed onto his shirt with both hands. You curled them tightly as you pressed your face against his chest. He was taken aback a bit, taking it in immediately before wrapping one arm around you with the other hand patting your head. 
“I want to go home now,” you whimpered against your cousin’s chest. All the boys silenced themselves as they watched you hold onto Ashton tightly. “Please let me go home.” 
well damn. oops. drama. i would like to say that nick jonas is a great person, i swear. he’s just kinda not okay in this part but i swear ill fix everything soon! please lemme know what you think right here and ill see ya in part 18 xx
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drunkenonmysofa · 7 years
Text
BASS & BUBBLEGUM [POPSTAR!Y/N AU] - PART FOUR
++mobile masterlist +b&b masterpost
parts; (one) (two) (three) (four) (five) (six
Tumblr media
summary: you’re a world-famous pop star which everyone learned to either love or hate. when a video of you making out with 5 seconds of summer’s bassist leaks, your management decides to make it seem like you’re dating calum.
word count: 3,594
warnings: none that i know of
author’s note: i like this series so far!!! but tbh this part felt so rushed im creasing at my badd grammar but anyways i feel like i made y/n into an asshole lol uhhhhh enjoy??!!?? (i still dont know how to end these things)
A good night’s sleep is what usually prevented you from short temper. When your management told you that you could have a five-month break from touring to write your songs for the next album, you were ecstatic. Especially since this meant you could sleep as long as you want on most days of the week.
Despite nothing interesting happening in your life, you found yourself always inspired so that you could write songs for your album. Even though in the long run, your producer would dub it as too vulnerable for your pop insignia, the sugar-coated version of the phrase, ‘it’s absolute shit’. This never stopped you from writing your own material, though. It was discouraging at times, but you had to admit that it was fun recording pre-written songs that you came to like.
The whole writing process involved famous song writers that wrote solely pop music. Sometimes, if Lancelot was feeling generous, he’d let you write with them. Most of the time, the writers were incredibly thankful for your ability to create songs that made their jobs easier for them. The fact of the matter is, the lyrics were either too political or ‘edgy’ for a popstar to sing, and the song ends up getting trashed.
Occurrences like those make you want to either cry or walk out of the studio in anger, but you had to stomach it in since you’ve already signed the contract that held you in the management for another two years. Maybe then you’d make the music you’ve always wanted to make.
After the fight with Calum, he didn’t make an effort explain why he said those nasty things, more so on what he was ‘bitter’ about, but you weren’t really surprised. What’s surprising you is that Nina called you to go to the studio with 5 Seconds of Summer to co-write and record one of the songs that’s going to be their next single. Apparently, you were going to be singing with them, too.
“I don’t think I can.” Call it childish, but you try to make yourself sound sick anyways, coughing right after you finish your sentence. You couldn’t look at Calum, not after everything that’s happened a few days ago. “I’m sick.”
“No you’re not.” Nina sighed through the phone, immediately calling your bluff. “That’s not how you sound like when you’re sick.”
You groaned. “Let me rephrase, I don’t want to. I’m sick of Calum.”
“Well, you can ignore him. You can talk to the other boys, I’m sure they’re nice.” Nina said, trying to convince you to go. “It’ll be good PR. Your fans would love the new song. You can come by the studio after lunch.”
“I’m releasing an album in five months. They can wait.”
You could sense Nina’s annoyance radiating from the phone pressed against your ear. “You can write whatever you want for the song. Just see if the band likes it.” She said, her tone deflated and defeated.
Relatively, you rolled your eyes at it, but you can’t help but feel a little pity. “Fine, just this once.” And besides, writing was one of the favorite things you did, so why not give it a try?
Even though you still didn’t want to be in the same room as Calum Hood, you were happy to meet his band mates. Ignoring the thought that they might be just like Calum, you enter the recording studio of the band with a smile on your face and a cup of warm coffee in your hand. The excitement of writing with other people and other producers always overcame your pessimist thinking, making Calum the last thing in your head right now.
As you walked to the door of the studio, you could hear the laughing of guys on the other side. You could almost see them through the fogged glass doors. Nevertheless, you knocked so at least they would know that you’re about to enter. As you opened the door, the band’s laughing quieted down, noticing your arrival.
“Y/N Y/L/N!” The one with curly, light brown hair, Ashton, said before standing up from the couch and shaking your hand. He smiled with the smile that you always saw in his pictures. “It’s nice to see you! We really love your music.”
You blushed, smiling at his compliment. “Thank you, really. I love your band’s music too.”
Looking around the rather spacious studio, you noticed that you’re not the only girl here. There’s another three that you don’t quite know, but you smile at them anyways and they return their gorgeous smiles to you. As Michael and Luke introduced themselves and joined you and Ashton’s conversation, you notice that Calum isn’t here.
Michael must’ve noticed you looking around the room in search of a certain Maori. “Calum went out to get some food, by the way.”
You nodded in acknowledgement, sitting on the wide sofa and the other boys followed suit.. “Shall we start?”
“Calum usually needs to be here since he’s the main writer of the band.” Luke said, looking up from his phone briefly before returning his gaze back to the device.
“Yeah, we kinda need to wait for him, if that’s okay with you?” Ashton asked. It baffles you how nice they were compared to Calum. If he spent most of his time with them then why wouldn’t he inherit their kindness? But you don’t think much of it. Instead, you nodded at Ashton’s question, reassuring him that it’s no problem.
“And you haven’t met the other girls yet!” Michael said, overly enthusiastic about the fact that you’re here. He gently tugs at your wrists to make you stand up from the couch and walks you over to the other end of the room where the three girls are. “This is Bryana, Ashton’s girlfriend,” He lets go of your wrist to point at the girl you thought was gorgeous enough to be a model. You smiled at her as she stood up and wrapped her arms around you.
“Hey! You’re so much prettier in person!” Bryana said, her arms hugging you firmly before letting you go and sitting back down with a bright smile on her face.
“Thank you so much.” You blushed at her compliment. “You’re a lot mire prettier than me, though.”
Before Bryana could reply, the girl beside her with colorful hair stood up and briefly hugged you, too. “Hi! My name is Arzaylea.” She shook your hand with a soft smile on her face. “That lanky blonde is my boyfriend.” She said before pointing to Luke, who was still stuck to his phone. “And Bryana is so right, you’re so pretty.” Arzaylea complimented, sitting back down next to the other girls.
You couldn’t help but blush at her compliment. Michael walked over to the last girl, giving her a peck on the cheek before introducing her. “This is Crystal, the absolute love of my life.” He said, smiling at her.
Crystal playfully pinched his cheeks before standing up and shaking your hand, a lot more laid back than the other girls. “I’m Crystal, nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you girls, too.” You said, addressing the three of them as you shook her hand.
After a few minutes of small talk, you decide to go back to where the other boys were, striking up a conversation on how they want the song to sound like. You knew they relied heavily on lyrics and instruments rather than electronic music, you honestly envied them, but since you were writing a song with them, you figured you were going to know the basics.
“Do you play guitar?” Michael asked, taking an acoustic guitar that was on a wall stand and handing it out to you.
“Yeah, I’m a bit rusty, though.” You shyly replied, taking the guitar by the neck and resting it on your lap.
“We usually start with a tune and build from there.” Michael said, sitting down next to you. “But we need a theme first.”
“A theme?” You question, wanting them to explain further.
“Yeah! Like, a city or unrequited love. Y'know, the works.” Luke speaks up and puts down his phone. “Maybe we can try a breakup this time.” Michael and Ashton agree and asked for your input. You replied with an ‘I think I can do that’ before they’re reminded that Calum needed to be here and they reserve the songwriting for a few more minutes.
You smile, fiddling with the guitar and trying out a few chords before the boys talk about how amazing their upcoming album is going to be. “How many songs have you written so far?”
“Twelve.” You hear Calum’s voice say as he’s walking into the room, tossing everyone, including the three girls who are engaged in a conversation about a TV show, a burrito from what looked like Chipotle. You hear a chorus of thank you’s from around the room before he’s facing you and handing out a burrito in front of you. “You want some?”
You face contorted in confusion before giving him an answer. “Yeah… thanks.” Hesitantly taking the burrito out of his hands, you can’t help but shoot him a look of confusion before awkwardly averting your gaze. You don’t catch his reaction and suddenly, you feel your excitement for the writing drop in the sight of him. “Uh… can we start?” You quietly asked Ashton as he’s about to bite into his meal.
“You’re not gonna eat?” He replied to you with a question, biting into his burrito anyways and gesturing you to take a bite.
No, I’ve quite lost my appetite. “Maybe later.” You said, feeling Calum’s gaze on you as you try and shrug it off by playing a few chords on the guitar on your lap. Ignorance seemed to be bliss as you tried to not be bothered by his presence.
“I’ll help you get started.” Your head perked up to Calum, who was seated on the sofa chair a few feet from you. His face held a soft smile, one that you’ve never seen in person before, and this made you quite speechless. A few seconds of awkward silence between you passed before Calum sat next to you, everyone oblivious to what was happening as they were too engaged in their own conversations.
You, however, wanted to run out of the room as soon as Calum had the balls to sit next to you after everything that’s happened. But you try to bury the thought at the back of your head, thinking about how good for business this is and it was nothing personal.
Sighing, you turned around and faced him, the acoustic guitar still in your hands and a half-hearted smile on your face. “Okay.”
There you are again with that word, Calum thought. He didn’t know what was going on with you, but he’d already apologized. What else did you want? Still, he took the notebook off the desk and started flipping through the notes. After finding the right page, he held out the black notebook to you rather hesitantly, feeling a little insecure on sharing his writings to people other than his best mates. Especially you. “It’s… still unfinished and the chord progressions are all wrong. All I’ve got so far is the first verse. I don’t even have a title yet.”
You took the black notebook from him, reading the lyrics in his messy but fathomable handwriting. Your stoic face slowly turned into a small smile as you read his lyrics. “You wrote this?” You glance at Calum before returning your gaze back to the notebook. “This is amazing.”
Calum gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks.” He said before asking you if you could add a few more lyrics.
“I think so,” You said, resting the guitar on the coffee table. “Do you have a pen?”
Calum nodded slightly before giving you the pen he retrieved from the pocket of his black ripped jeans.
This time, you don’t hesitate to take the pen from him, jotting down a few lyrics in a hurry as you noticed Calum struggling to look at what you’re writing. In the heat of the moment, you scoot closer to him, almost immediately feeling the warmness of his sweater-clad body. What you didn’t notice, is that Calum tensed up as you made contact with his physical body since the last time you saw each other. “So you’ll see the notes better.”
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop staring at you. How some of your hair fell on your face when you eyed the notebook in concentration, the way you would poke out your tongue at the corners of your mouth, and at how pretty you looked in the studio’s dim lighting.
It wasn’t until both of you were half-blinded by a flash that Calum broke his gaze off you.
“Mate, what the fuck?” Calum said, irritated at the pale, blonde boy sitting on the couch across him. “Did you just take a picture?” He inquired before shooting Michael a look as he laughed along with Ashton.
“Some PR stunt,” Michael nudged Ashton, making him laugh once more. “Adam’s gonna love this.” Michael said before posting the picture of you two on Instagram.
On the other hand, you were practically oblivious as to what was happening. While the three boys, Luke, Michael and Ashton, chuckled as they looked at Michael’s phone, Calum was shooting glares at the boys. This eventually bought you back to reality, realizing that you were so close to Calum that if he turned to face you, he would be inches from kissing you like he did in the video that started it all.
So you jolted up, immediately feeling heat rush to your cheeks as you put down the pen and notebook on the coffee table in a hurry. “I’m going for a walk.” Grabbing the coat off the rack, you quickly exited the studio, leaving the remaining people in the studio speechless.
“I’ll talk to her.” Calum said aloud before following after you.
You chose to keep walking away from the building, lucky enough to have no fans outside the studio. You chose to keep walking away even though you heard fast footsteps behind you. You especially chose to keep walking away when the person called your name in attempt of getting your attention.
“Y/N, please. Just come back to the studio.”
The tone of his voice makes you walk even faster, the urge to just avoid him growing stronger. It wasn’t until he was walking next to you that you stopped. “What are you doing?”
“Walking with you.” Calum didn’t stop walking until he noticed you halt, turning back slightly to meet your cautious eyes. “Are you coming?” The Maori held his hand out, his brown skin looking a little bit more golden in the presence of sunlight. You’re stuck wracking your mind on whether you should take his hand or not, still somewhat awkward with the thought of talking to him after everything that’s happened in the car.
It’s got you thinking that maybe you were overreacting, that it was just plain teasing and that you should accept his apology. But could you? You didn’t know Calum very well in the first place. For him to act like a total asshole to you on the first ‘date’ surely changed your opinion of him. You didn’t know if he’d try that shit again or not in the future.
Instead of taking his hand, you ask him one question that’s been in your head for a long time. “What happened at Josh’s party?”
“I’ll tell you if you’ll walk with me.”
The smile on his face reassures you that he’s telling the truth, so you take a chance. But you don’t take his hand, proceeding to walk next to him instead. Still, the smile remains on his face because he got you to agree, his hand falling to his side as he started slowly walking on the sidewalk. Luckily, the studio was located somewhere in the suburban part of L.A., making it easier for the both of you to talk without fans interrupting.
“So?” You looked up from your gaze on the asphalt ground to meet his brown eyes. “You gonna tell me or what?”
Calum tore the eye contact between the two of you, making an expression that you considered as disgruntlement. “I don’t know if you’ll freak out like you did last time.”
“If you don’t insult me then I might not.” You said with a slight twinge of sarcasm lacing your voice.
“We were both high when we went up to Josh’s room.” Calum started, making you somewhat nervous based on the tone of his voice. “It looked like you were already tipsy before I even introduced myself. We went to the couches and smoked some weed. Then we went upstairs because you said you wanted to sleep.”
You huffed. “The video. We were making out. How did that happen?”
“You really don’t know what happened?” Calum raised his eyebrow at your inquisition. “You pulled me upstairs and started kissing me.”
“That doesn’t sound like me.”
Calum squinted at the light of the sun that was shining in his face. At this point, he didn’t know if he was getting annoyed at the sun or at you for not recalling a single thing that occurred that night. “Yeah. I didn’t know the door was unlocked. That’s why the video leaked.”
“And what happened after?”
The question hangs around the air for a few seconds before Calum hesitantly answering. “You passed out while we were still making out. Then I left. Nothing happened between us, don’t worry.”
His hesitance and delayed answer made you wonder if he was telling the truth or keeping something from you. “Is that all?”
Then he smiled and nodded slightly, figuring that you could find out more in the right time. Both of you had to go back to the studio anyways. “That’s all.” He said, intentionally keeping the memory of you drunkenly telling him that you thought the songs he wrote was, quote on quote, something that no one can take seriously along with other words that threw daggers in his chest. But still, it was just words. He needed to get over it anyways. Right?
After Calum told you that the both of you should get back to the studio, you agreed. In the midst of walking, a title for the song that you’ve been writing with him popped up in your head. “I know what the title of the song should be.” You told Calum, glancing at him for a mere second. “Broken Pieces seems to be a good one.”
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tran5rightsos · 4 years
Text
You’ve Cut the Wrong Damn Wire - Chapter Nine
Tags and Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Nightmares
Word Count: 2226
Leave Kudos?
Calum was at a loss for words, a strong sense of deja vu permeating his thoughts.
“You...killed someone?”
Ashton stole a glance at him and nodded. “I was scared and angry. I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t know if there was anything else I could do.”
Calum swallowed. “But isn’t that...it was self defence or something, right?”
Ashton shrugged. “I got out of a life sentence, but his family argued that the way I did it was…vicious and that I was still a danger to other people. Maybe they were right.”
Calum had never seen Ashton look as vulnerable as he did then.
“Sometimes I just get really...cold. Like I could hurt someone and not even blink. I’m scared that I might hurt you if I get too deep in it.”
“What do you do when that happens?”
“Get space. I guess I just need to be away from people sometimes.”
Calum nodded, not sure what to say.
“Are you mad?” Ashton asked quietly.
“No, no, I just…” Calum had thought finding out Ashton went to juvy was a lot, but now… “I think I’m gonna...stay over at Michael and Luke’s,” he decided, “I need to think.”
“No, don’t,” Ashton objected, grabbing Calum’s wrist when he made to get up.
“Ashton-”
“Stay away from Michael.”
Calum stared. “Why?”
“Please trust me,” Ashton urged, “I know you probably don’t want to right now, but there’s something off about him.”
Calum pulled his hand away. “What do you mean?”
“He just...he reminds me of guys I knew in juvy. Violent, fucked-up guys.”
“Ash…” Calum sighed and rubbed his head. “Fine, I’ll go somewhere else. I just need space.”
Ashton relaxed and nodded. “I’m sorry I’ve been hurting you. And I’m sorry I lied, I just didn’t...I wanted to put it behind me. I didn’t want you to think of me differently, but...I get it if you wanna break up.”
A friend from work had space on their couch for Calum, but falling asleep was hard. He felt like the right thing to do was address the fact that Ashton lied to him and broke his trust, but he couldn’t help but understand and sympathise with why he’d done it. How the fuck does one even bring something like that up?
Hey Calum, just thought I’d let you know that I killed my rapist when I was a kid and was in juvy for most of high school, please don’t treat me like a monster.
Sure, killing someone was serious shit, but if Calum was being honest, the guy deserved it. It sickened him to think that something like that could happen to Ashton and the more his thoughts circled around it, the more he felt like killing someone like that was okay. He couldn't imagine the pain it took to make a kid willing to a life.
By morning, he regretted not staying with Ashton after he poured his heart out like that. Opening up about shit as fucked up as that must have taken a lot and Calum just left him alone on the couch like the shittiest boyfriend on the planet.
Having gotten no sleep, Calum went home and apologised for freaking out, promising Ashton that he wanted to be supportive and understanding. Ashton seemed shocked and wouldn’t stop hugging him until Calum reminded him that they had to be at work in half an hour.
It seemed weird to be scooping ice cream and serving thickshakes after Ashton’s confession. Although Calum didn’t want to make him share and relive every awful detail about what happened to him, it felt like there was still a lot to talk about. What if he had triggers that Calum hadn’t been accommodating or something?
For the first time in weeks, Luke came in for ice cream. Calum hadn’t been facing the door when he entered and just about jumped out of his skin when he turned to see him at the counter, though it was a welcome distraction from his relentless overthinking.
“Where’s Michael?” Calum asked, preparing Luke’s usual order.
“With his nan.” Luke glanced at Ashton, who was busy cleaning some equipment. “How are you?”
Calum lowered his voice and leaned in a little. “I told him I thought he was cheating.”
Luke’s eyes widened in panic.
“We’re fine, we’re fine,” Calum assured him, “I was wrong, but...I think we’ll be fine.”
“What did he say?”
Calum glanced at Ashton, his words flashing through his mind. “It’s not for me to tell.”
Luke looked worried and skeptical as he leaned in. “You’re not in trouble, are you?” he murmured.
“No,” Calum promised, handing Luke his ice cream, “But thanks for worrying, man.”
“You can come to me and Michael if you need help,” Luke said earnestly, sliding cash over the counter, “Whatever it is, we’ll help you.”
Calum frowned, taking the money. “It’s really fine, dude.” Maybe Luke just thought Calum might get kicked out if they break up, but a nagging feeling told Calum that he was afraid of Ashton.
Watching Luke go, Calum wondered what had happened between them. He could accept that Ashton had always been wary of Michael, only acting friendly to be polite, but he’d thought Luke genuinely liked Ashton a lot. Where did all this suspicion come from?
It took a few weeks for Ashton to start getting distant again, or cold, as he called it.
“Do you need some time?” Calum asked him when he came home late one night.
Ashton didn’t say anything for a moment, staring up at the dark ceiling. “I’m sorry.”
Calum put an arm over him, tracing his fingers over his skin. “You don’t have to be sorry. I wanna help.”
Ashton rolled over to face him. “I was thinking of driving out in a fortnight. I dunno how long for.”
“That’s okay. I’ll be here when you get back.”
Ashton kissed Calum gratefully. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
It turned out Michael was also going out that weekend, visiting an aunt according to Luke, who decided that they should take the opportunity to have a Lord of the Rings marathon together.
Drinking beer and talking about the movies with Luke was fun, even though it felt like Calum was only half watching them as Luke gushed about his favourite parts.
“We always skip this bit,” he commented during Return of the King, when Denethor was arranging Faramir’s funeral, “Michael hates it ‘cause of all the fire.”
“The fire?” Calum questioned, taking a sip of his beer.
“He had an accident when he was younger,” Luke explained, “Seeing and thinking about people getting burnt is kind of a trigger for him.”
Calum’s ears pricked at the word. “Michael has triggers?”
Luke shrugged.
“What happens?”
“Uh...he kinda feels his face burning? And he gets sick. One time I had a close call with the stove and he threw up.” He frowned, looking away. “Maybe I shouldn’t be talking about it when he’s not here.”
“Right, sorry, I didn’t mean to gossip or anything, I just…” Calum mulled over the wording in his head. “Something happened to someone I know when they were a kid and I wanna...understand them better.” He rubbed his neck. “Or something.”
Luke relaxed. “Fair enough.”
When they finished the movie, Luke showed Calum to his room. “You can have the bed, I’ll take the couch.”
“You won’t take Michael’s bed?”
“We kind of...share.”
“Oh.” Calum looked at the double size bed, then back at Luke. “Are you sure you guys aren’t dating?” he joked.
Luke rubbed his neck sheepishly. “We aren’t, I just...I dunno.”
“Hey, it’s fine, man,” Calum assured him, “I don’t wanna kick you out, though. If you wanna share with me, I’m cool with it. Bed’s big enough.”
“Really?” Luke asked hopefully.
Luke maintained some distance when they got under the covers, probably afraid of making Calum uncomfortable even though Calum felt that their friendship was at the point where they could totally have a good friendly cuddle every now and then.
Staying up so late to watch Lord of the Rings had Calum tired enough to fall asleep quickly, waking up to daylight seeping through the curtains and Luke whimpering in his sleep.
Calum sat up and rubbed his eyes, alertness cutting through his head as he registered Luke’s soft apologies and pleas for something to stop.
“Luke?” He nudged Luke’s shoulder a couple of times. “Wake up, it’s just a dream.”
Luke shifted away from his touch, face scrunching up in fear. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed out.
“Luke!” Calum said more firmly, “Wake up!”
Finally, Luke’s eyes cracked open and he rolled away from Calum, grasping at the sheet as his chest heaved for air.
Calum stared at Luke’s back, unsure of what to do.
“I’m sorry,” Luke croaked.
“It was just a dream,” Calum murmured, reaching out to stroke Luke’s shoulder.
“I woke you up.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Luke peeked over his shoulder at Calum, eyes red and swollen.
“You okay?” The question felt stupid the moment it left Calum's lips.
Luke shook his head.
Calum opened his arms for him. “C’mere.”
Curling into Calum’s arms, Luke buried his face in his shirt, tears quickly soaking through to his skin. For a few minutes, he just cried and let Calum hold him, breaking down into sobs whenever he tried to speak. By the time he was calm enough to get out full sentences, his voice was hoarse and raw.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologise for anything,” Calum replied, rubbing his back slowly, “You need to talk about it?”
“It’s a lot.”
“I won’t look at you differently,” Calum promised, recalling Ashton’s fear when he’d told Calum what happened to him.
“It was about school,” Luke whispered, “When I—” He choked off, pressing a hand to his mouth.
“It’s okay,” Calum prompted.
He lowered his hand and swallowed. “When he made me...sell myself.”
Calum frowned, hugging Luke tighter.
“If I didn’t get enough money he’d hit me and—” Luke took a shuddering breath.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Calum murmured, hoping he wasn't prying and upsetting Luke further.
“He was always worse than them. Guys at school tried not to hurt me too badly in case it made him angry, but he didn’t care. He wanted to hurt me.”
Calum felt sick. How could something like that happen to someone as gentle as Luke? How could nobody who knew care enough to try and stop it?
“Sometimes I’m scared he’ll hurt Michael too,” Luke uttered, “Just because he’s my friend.”
Calum squeezed his eyes shut and buried his nose in Luke’s hair. Ashton had to be wrong about Michael. How could he be dangerous if Luke trusted and cared about him so much?
A hatred for Phil welled up in Calum as they laid together, hot and savage enough to scare him if he’d been feeling that way about anyone else. Up until that moment, he’d never in his life thought he could be capable of killing someone, but now he was certain that he would be willing to end Phil’s life in a heartbeat.
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surrendermyhart · 7 years
Text
I’ll Remember Your Eyes When You’re Gone
*The ride back to Keith and Jeremy’s was quick, although the awkward silence made it seem to drag on and on. I busied myself staring out the window, watching as the industrial and shiny glass and steel buildings gave way to homes and scattered streetlights; cozy houses with golden light streaming from the windows  It was an absolutely idyllic neighborhood, almost lifted from a Norman Rockwell painting. The driveway we pulled into was not any different.  A white picket fence boarded a good sized yard, a porch swing barely moved in the light breeze and Keith’s truck sat in front of a two car garage.  As soon as the key was turned and the soft music that had been playing went silent, the car suddenly felt stifling. Judging by the speed with which Keith unbuckled and bailed, I wasn’t the only one who thought so. Jeremy twisted in his seat, giving me a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.  I could tell, somehow, that it was genuine nonetheless. I offered one back, the corner of my mouth just barely twitching up before unbuckling and slipping out of the car, my small purse clutched in my hands. The air was cool and refreshingly cool, and I could feel the moisture that guaranteed a storm soon.  My shiver was less from the cold and absolutely from the situation I was about to walk into and though I tried to hide it, Jeremy’s hand resting at the small of my back was a clear indication that I was nowhere near as stealthy as I thought I was.  “It’ll be okay.”  The words were quiet, whispered almost against the back of my head, and I could feel the warmth of Jeremy’s breath just barely ruffling against the hair that had started to slip free from my messy ponytail.  Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, I glance back over my shoulder with a wry smile.* Easy for you to say, he doesn’t hate you.  * Jeremy’s sigh was quiet and he pulled his fingers through already messy red hair with a sigh. “It’s not that he hates you, Tom, you wouldn’t be here if that were the case.  He just… it’s complicated.”* Complicated.  Right.  *My voice is little more than a whisper and I fight a shiver as I shake my head, returning my gaze to the still open front door, golden light spilling out onto the porch. Taking a shaky breath and steeping my spine, my chin tilted upwards in an absolutely ridiculous display of fake confidence, I climbed the few steps and stepped inside, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the brightness.  The house was, oddly, exactly how I had pictured it and at the same time nothing like I could have imagined.  As cookie-cutter as it looked from the outside, inside was a whole different story.  The decor was a perfect blend of both Jeremy and Keith.  From the framed artwork, clearly Jeremy’s, that adorned the walls to the shelves of what I was sure were meticulously organized records that took up nearly the entire far wall of the expansive living room, every detail subtly shone a light on the two homeowners.  Setting my purse down on a small table beside a ridiculously comfy looking couch, I shifted my weight from foot to foot, the heels of my boots clicking against the hardwood floors. The light click of the door closing sent a shiver down my spine that was entirely unrelated to the artificially chilled air that fell from the vents. Logically I knew that I wasn’t in any danger; there was absolutely no reason to be afraid. It wasn’t the conflict, either, not at all. I had never backed down from conflict, and I wasn’t about to start tonight. Taking a deep breath, I tipped my head back just slightly, shaking my bangs away from my face and looked over at Keith.  He leaned against the open doorway that separated the living room from the kitchen, the shiny steel appliances glowing in the dim  light, a beer bottle clasped in his hand. I could see his tattooed fingers wrapped tightly around the bottle as he tilted it back, draining it easily, his gaze never wavering from Jeremy as the taller man crossed to his side. As much as I wanted to look away as their lips met, I couldn’t and I cursed my wandering mind, twisting into the hem of my skirt to keep myself occupied.   Christ, they were beautiful.  There was something though, that wasn’t quite right, and whatever it was should have been glaring, and I knew it, but i couldn’t put my finger on it for the goddamn world.  I could see them speaking, although their words were whispered and I couldn’t make them out.  My lip reading skills left a lot to be desired, and I mentally cursed myself for not taking advantage of learning the skill when I had the opportunity. The uncomfortable silence and hushed whispers dragged on for what felt like forever. According to the clock on the far wall, however, forever was actually about three minutes and seventeen seconds.  I usually lasted alot longer than that before I let my curiosity get the better of me.* Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?  Please? * My voice was just on the side of too loud and I cringed at the way the last word shook, betraying just a little bit of my false bravado. I could get on a stage in front of strangers and play my fucking heart out every other week; that was no problem.  Helping take care of people at their most vulnerable moments? Cakewalk.  But here, in this strange house, staring at two men, a couple, that I was attracted to, one of whom was my fucking boss… that shit was another story. The looks on both Jeremy and Keith’s faces seemed slightly perplexed, almost as though they had forgotten I was here.  Keith laughed, the sound dry and almost tense as he shook his head slightly, eyes resting on me as he raised his beer bottle, his inked fingers tapping over the neck.  I recognized the gesture for what it was, I did the same thing myself, and forced myself to meet his eyes.  The usual sparkle was dull, although there was something lurking in their hazel depths that I couldn’t place.Setting the bottle on the breakfast bar, Keith headed, empty handed, towards the stairs, leaning down as he passed to whisper in my ear.  “Make it worth it.”  I could barely feel the warmth of his breath before he was gone without a word, just the sound of Converse hitting hardwood and the slam of a door. My throat was dry as my mind raced to ponder the possible meaning behind his words and I was only pulled out of this reverie by the not exactly quiet strains of a song that I didn’t recognize drifting down the stairs. Confused for just a moment, I pushed myself up from the cozy chair and leaned my head towards the stairs, trying to place it.  It was Keith playing, there was no doubt in my mind about that.  Turning my attention back to Jeremy, I met his eyes with a questioning glance, more confused now than I had been a few minutes before.* Jer, wh-
*My words were cut off in the most unexpected of ways, Jeremy’s fingers brushing against my cheek just seconds before his lips brushed across mine. It was barely a kiss, but I couldn’t have been more knocked off guard if a goddamn marching band had paraded through the room.  Swallowing to wet my suddenly parched throat, and maybe to push off the return of my ridiculously persistent thoughts from earlier in the evening, I forced myself to meet Jeremy’s eyes.  The usual light green was darkened slightly, and a small smile tugged at just one side of his mouth.  One of his hands trailed almost hesitantly up my arm to rest gently against the back of my neck, the tips of his fingers just barely playing with the hair that had slipped free from my ponytail.  “I’ve never been really fond of labels.”  The words offered very little explanation, instead simply piling on more layers of confusion.  I’m sure it was evident on my face because Jeremy laughed, his free hand falling on my waist as he continued. “It would be a lie to say I’m not attracted to you, and I never lie. Keith knows, he asked flat out.  I love him with all of my heart and soul.”  Jeremy’s declaration was matter of fact, and even Helen Keller could see that it was true. . “He’s giving us a night. If you want it.”   A night… if I wanted it. If. I. Wanted. It. This was like an episode of the fucking Twilight Zone.  Or I was being punked and Fucking Ashton Kutcher was gonna jump out from behind a houseplant or some shit. I searched Jeremy’s eyes for something, any hint of a clue that things may not have been what they seemed and found absolutely nothing to the contrary. My mind raced with possibilities and outcomes; weighing the impact of the proposition with what could happen and the myriad of choices as nearly overwhelming and I just spoke, my voice quiet despite the music that echoed from up the stairs, the notes morphing into something familiar, although there was no possible way to miss the words.* I want you. Please.  *Keith had said to make it worth it. Jeremy has said we had one night.  There was no way that I was not going to make the most of what I was being given.  From the moment the nearly whispered words left my mouth, everything changed.  Four words were all it took and Jeremy’s lips were back on mine; the fingers at my neck were threading into my hair and his hand on my waist tightening just slightly.  It was sweet and fucking good, better than I had quite literally dreamed. Somewhere, in the back of my head, a tiny little voice whispered in protest that MAYBE this wasn’t such a good idea.  That little voice was dumb as fuck and needed to shut up.  And it did, quickly, as soon as Jeremy’s fingers made quick work of my ponytail and tugged through my hair.  I could feel his smile against my lips for a moment before they trailed down my jaw to my neck, the gentle pull on my hair tilting my head back.  What can I say?  That little voice was a sucker for hair-pulling.  I didn’t move for a moment as the sensation of just being kissed -and fucking well- sank in, causing my long neglected hormones to stand up and do a fucking dance. Twisting my fingers in the silk of Jeremy’s tie, I gave it the slightest tug, whimpering when I couldn’t get the knot free. Whether that was due to my own ineptitude or the distraction of the fingers that had somehow wandered under the hem of my blouse, I wasn’t sure. Either way, my frustration earned me a chuckle that I could feel vibrating against the sensitive skin of my neck.  “Need a hand?” Jer’s words were pitched low, whispered against my skin and it was all I could do to just nod, pulling futilely at the fabric. Trailing his mouth up my neck, he gave the tiniest nip at my earlobe that coaxed a quiet moan that I fought to keep in my throat. “Upstairs? Unless that would be too presumptuous. “  I could hear the smile in Jeremy’s voice, and it brought one to my lips easily as I nodded, reluctantly pulling back to regard him for just a moment. He looked beautiful, as fucking always. I swear to fuck, he and Keith must have sold their souls or something. They never fucking looked bad.  Finding my voice again, I brushed an errant lock of hair behind my ear and cast my gaze towards the stairs.   The music was still going, loud and thumping, and I had to fight back the thought of Keith that came to mind, almost unbidden, along with flashes of my dream.* It would be far from presumptuous, Jer.  I’m pretty sure you know that.  *His earnest smile was at odds with his lust darkened eyes but somehow, as always, he seemed to make it work as he gestured up the stairs.  ”After you.” Far be it from me to argue.  Leaving my purse where it sat, I headed up towards the second floor, heart pounding as Keith’s music grew louder with each stair. I paused on the landing glancing at a closed door that must have lead to the attic. My face, once again, must have been my tell, because Jer took my hand gently and followed my gaze.
“We re-did the attic when we moved in. You’ll have to have him show you. Just… not now. “  Pressing a soft kiss against the top of my head, Jeremy lead me carefully to the end of the hall, pausing in front of a closed door before turning his attention back to me. “You can still change your mind, you know. We don’t have to-”
His words were the ones that got cut off this time as I pulled on his tie and crashed his lips to mine.  The kiss was needy; desperate and thorough, with wandering hands and tiny, delicious little sounds swallowed by open mouths. This second kiss was more heated than our first, and carried  an undercurrent of… something. Lust. Yearning. Desire… something. I nearly stumbled over myself as the door swing open and Jeremy guided me into the room in the dark. His foot connected with the hardwood and it closed with a bang, shutting out the outside world except for the driving rhythm that still carried overhead, gasped breaths and uninhibited moans blending perfectly, obscenely, with the music from above as the night went on. *
#IllRememberYourEyesWhenYoureGone #SurrenderTheNight
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