#calum hood dialogue

[ameliora-j]

That makes me think of him, or any of them, rubbing your back as he's waking you up before he leaves and saying "give daddy a kiss before he leaves for work" to get a slow and sleepy kiss before he spends all day at the studio.......God they're all so daddy but in such different ways too -calum girlie (also I'm so sorry for the spam, pls lmk if I send in too much)

there is literally no such thing as “too much” when it comes to my ask box

but yeah… yeah it gives me cal vibes 🥹 he wasn’t supposed to be going in today but there was something messed up with the vocals, and so he wakes up real real early — like 5am — and he’s careful and quiet getting ready so that u don’t wake up

untill a large, warm hand is running up the expanse of your back, over the soft green hoodie that belongs to the man in question (you know the one). your humming quietly, still very much in dreamland, but cognizant enough to hear all that he’s saying

“give daddy a kiss baby… gotta go to work” cal whispers. you let out a quiet whine, keeping your eyes closed as you slowly roll over and lazily pucker your lips. he chuckles softly and kisses you softly, slow and lazy as he knows you’re still practically asleep. “i love you” he whispers.

you hum an answer, but calum knows you love him too. he smiles, kissing your head gently before heading for the studio.

[gothluke]

@imisskeek writes the best puppy!luke & lashton phone sm*t i have ever read. go read if you want to see 1/2 of the best the lashies have to offer: here.

[talkfastromance4]

18 on the dialogues list with Calum 🥺

I changed the dialogue a smidge but it’s still the same! Presenting hockey!cal x figure skater!reader!

I also HAD to do a moodboard…

Disclaimer: I know basically the most basic parts of hockey and figure skating so there are fallacies I’m sure. And the Olympics are mentioned but in this world, this is how it goes😅

Enjoy!🏒⛸️

The first time Calum saw you skate was as he was leaving the locker room after hockey practice. He heard music echoing through the tunnel and he followed it to investigate. Michael, his best friend and teammate jogged to keep up.

“Who practices after us?” Calum asked.

“No one, I thought.”

When they emerge from the tunnel you race past them on the ice, your skates scraping with speed and the small practice skirt flaring up from the breeze you created. After your wide arch on the ice you do a double axel landing perfectly with a flourish of your arms.

“Woah,” Calum mumbled impressed.

“Oh! I know who that is!” Michael snapped his fingers in realization. “She’s here training for the Olympics.”

“What’s her name?”

“No idea. C’mon, I’m hungry.”

Calum stayed for a moment longer adjusting the strap of his hockey bag watching you skate and add your own flair to the routine.

It wasn’t until a month later that you finally met. Calum stayed on the ice to practice his shots when you stomped out on the rink.

“Oh! Sorry, I thought you guys were done,” you say.

“I can share,” he smiles then swats at a puck lined up.

“You sure? I use the whole rink.”

“It’s fine, I’ll be in my own corner.”

“Okay,” you sigh.

Calum tries to keep his attention on his own practice but he’s easily distracted by you moving around him. Eventually, he stops altogether to watch you twirl and leap in the air. It’s a wonder how you get yourself airborne like that. He comes to the conclusion that you’re simply magic.

When you’re both done on the ice and unlacing your skates, you speak up.

“I heard you scored two goals in your last game. That’s awesome.”

“Thanks, it’s always a nice feeling. I heard you’re training for the Olympics?”

“Yeah. I qualify in a few months to find out if I made the cut. So it’s crunch time.”

“You’ve got it in the bag. I’ve seen you skate and it’s insane how you can do all of that.”

“Thank you,” you smile impishly. Calum thinks it’s cute.

“I know you’re training but…do you want to grab a bite to eat?”

***

Thus started the skating romance between you two. After practice the two of you would get dinner, coffee, or hang out listening to music. You’d attend his home games and even bought his jersey to wear.

“I wish I could wear something of yours,” he told you leaning over the half door of the rink. The rest of the team is behind him doing some warm-ups before the game starts but Calum always has to talk to you first.

“You don’t want to try on one of my skirts?” you smile flirtatiously.

“You know I can rock a skirt, sweetheart,” he laughs. “I mean like a jersey or something. I love seeing you in mine. Figure skaters should have jerseys.”

“Well…I do have a scrunchie,” you pull the sparkly purple scrunchie from your ponytail. Your hair falls over the fuzzy headband and Calum gets a pleasurable whiff of your shampoo, it made him a little lightheaded. It smells like apples and cherry blossoms. “You can wear this if you want.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Maybe it’ll bring you luck.”

“You already bring me luck,” he grins but holds out his hand. You slip the scrunchie onto his wrist and tuck it under his black sleeve. “Thanks babe.”

“You’re welcome.”

He leans closer but pauses so he can watch your eyes flutter shut and press his lips to yours. The buzz of the crowd disappears and all of his focus is on you and the gentle way your fingers skate up his cheek and into the curls around his ears. Your lips are so soft and there’s some whistles from the fans but he only pays them half a mind.

If it was up to Calum, he’d spend all of his time kissing you.

“Hood! Get your ass over here!” his coach shouts from behind.

You break the kiss first but Calum chases your lips.

“You’re going to get into the penalty box before the game even starts,” you giggle.

“You’re worth it.” He pecks your lips twice. “I’ll see you after.”

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” you kiss his nose and he pushes off the wall. Michael tosses him his helmet, he catches it one handed and slips it on his head.

***

January 2nd is when you qualify and Calum has helped you during practice by being moral support and your biggest cheerleader. Your coach scolded him numerous times for interrupting your training sessions so he watched you proudly in silence.

To help ease your anxiety a little he decides to take you on a date at an outdoor rink.

“I don’t want to think about skating right now,” you whine as he pulls your skates from his backseat. “Can’t we go to the movies and makeout like we’re teenagers breaking curfew?”

“It’s only eight o’clock, your curfew was eight o’clock?” he asks.

“That’s besides the point.”

“This is all for fun, babe. No spins or tricks or double axels. Tonight is about being that cheesy couple making googly eyes under the twinkle lights.”

You skate around a few times holding hands then you spot a little girl trying to skate backwards and another one attempting to do a jump. Calum feels your fingers slip from his as you approach her. He hears you speak kindly then offers your help to the little girls.

After five minutes, you have them skating backwards and doing a perfect little jump off the ice. Their father comes by thanking you and then it starts to snow. You wave at the little girl then skid to a stop in front of Calum, his fingers weave through yours easily.

“Sorry, they reminded me of me at that age. Once you skate backwards, you can do anything.”

“It’s fine,” he shakes his head smiling, “you taught them pretty quickly.”

“I just showed her what worked for me. Ugh, snow is getting in my eyes.”

“They’re on your eyelashes,” he pulls you into him. “Looks cute. You’re my snow princess.”

***

Calum’s sitting with your coach at the qualifiers waiting anxiously for you to go on. He wished you luck and a promise that you’ve got this. Your purple scrunchie is on his wrist and his nails are painted the same color as your silvery sparkly outfit. Your makeup is striking and he can’t believe he’s with you.

He watches you take a deep breath then you step onto the ice with a radiant smile. There are some cheers of your name–his included–and the music starts. Cameras are rolling and flashing, tracking your every move as you skate to the center of the rink.

When it comes to your triple double axel, Calum leans forward on his seat.

“C’mon baby, c’mon baby,” he cheers for you silently. You execute and land each double perfectly. Calum hoots and claps with other fans that are happy with your accomplishment.

When it’s finally time for the final results, Calum is standing behind you holding your hand as your coach holds the other.

“And from the D12 qualifile…Y/N Y/L/N!!”

You shriek and jump in excitement hugging your coach then launch yourself into Calum’s arms.

“I did it!”

“I knew you could, princess,” he hugs you tighter. “I’m so proud of you.”

In his minds’ eye he saw himself at the winter Olympics with you, cheering you on.

Taglist: @calumance  @in-superbloom @calpalirwin @karajaynetoday @wiiildflowerrr @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower​ @mymindwide​ @itjustkindahappenedreally @seanna313 @mulletcal @pandaxnienke @celestialams @in-a-world-of-fandoms @blairscott

[goldensstateofgrace]

• Two year and 1.3k Followers Celebration

Celebration Masterlist | Ask Box

It has officially been two years since I posted my first ever fic on here and I wanted to celebrate that and the fact that i’ve hit 1.3k followers 

I am so so extremely grateful for every single one of you and I have no words to express how much your continued support means to me! <3 

So all that being said, I’m hosting an ask game and fic challenge for anyone who wants to participate!! 

The Fic Challenge and my Ask Box are open from Jan 30th to Feb 14th 

Rules 

You can use any one of the prompt lists listed below, or come up with your own concept

Make sure you tag me when you post your fic so i’ll see it and I can add it to the celebrations fic masterlist!! 

Use the #goldensstateofcelebration & #goldensstateofcelebrationfics in the tags of your fic pls 

If you write anything NSFW make sure it tag it as such 

You can write for Harry Styles, Niall Horan, Calum Hood, or Luke Hemmings with any trope you’d like 

Please try and make your fics more than 500 or less and 6,000 words 

You can also send me an ask with any one of the prompt lists and which dialogue prompt you’d like and I’ll try my best to write it

Prompt Lists

Responses for after a kiss

Jealous / Protective prompts 

Dialogue for lovers in denial 

Worried and relieved dialogue starters 

Emoji Ask Game 

🎧 - I’ll shuffle one of my playlists three times and rank the songs I get

🥰 - A random pic/meme I have in my camera roll

✨ - Send me three book tropes and I’ll rank them from my favorite to least favorite

🫶 - send me this and I’ll tell you honestly what I think abt you and your blog (for mutuals)

Tagging my mutuals

@thesadstoryofme @watchyourbluesturngolden @allegras-sunflower @alittletaste @swiftmendeshoran @gurugirl @harrysblackcoat @stylesmygucci @stylessupremacy @lukesaprince @fkinavocado @hazelhearts @theshyspy @harrysfolklore @daydreaming-laur @stucktoyou

[calumthoodshands]

Days in the sun // 6

Fandom: 5 Seconds of Summer

Pairing: Luke Hemmings/Calum Hood

Warnings: mentions of alcohol

Word count: 5.7k

Part 1 // ... // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7

Having a large property with meadows, an orchard consisting of all kinds of apple, cherry, pear and peach trees, was a lot of work. Furthermore, the vegetables patches had to be maintained, the fences inspected for holes, moldy planks replaced, the sheep sheared. June therefore usually was a very busy month for Calum, and for once he was quite thankful for that, seeing as it gave him enough of an excuse to avoid Luke for the next few weeks. Not that anything bad happened — it was rather how Calum couldn’t remember what had happened. Only thing he knew was how he woke up still fully clothed, shirt stained with beer, and wearing a goddamn leather jacket that couldn’t belong to anyone else but Luke.

It was too big for Calum, too heavy, and he threw it off as soon as he realised, but since then it had been waiting for Luke on the chair next to Calum’s wardrobe. He didn’t even have any reason to wait to give it back, it just never seemed to fit; one time he drove by Ashton’s no one had been there, when Luke came over to the usual Wine Sunday, he forgot to give it back until after Luke had already left again, and so on. It was annoying, and every morning he woke up and it was the first thing he saw, Calum’s mood dropped before his day had even begun. He wondered how Luke even survived without his beloved clothing item. Shouldn't he feel as if something’s missing? Didn’t the jacket make up at least half of his personality?

“I think something’s up with Roy,” Ashton next to him suddenly said when they both were plucking cherries from the old tree in the orchard, closest to the left side of Calum’s house.

“Why’s that?” Calum asked casually, frowning. So he wasn’t the only one who noticed, that was comforting at least.

“Something's bothering him, I just don’t know what.” Ashton climbed down the ladder to decant his full basket into the large zinc trough on the ground underneath the tree, next to where Calum stood. He leant against the thick tree trunk, watching Calum who continued to reap the small, burgundy fruits, seemingly not knowing what to respond.

“He didn’t tell you anything, did he?”

“No,” Calum slowly replied, “he actually only talked about how great things were going for him. That is, when he found the time to talk to me. Most of the evening he hung out with Luke.”

Ashton raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I noticed, didn’t know they were that close. Luke never said anything.”

“Neither did Roy.”

Calum knew how his voice sounded a bit choked up, but it angered him more how Roy had seemed to forget about him whenever Luke was near. He had been almost relieved when Roy had left the next day, only now he was to return in a few weeks. Maybe he’ll sort his priorities in the meantime.

“You missed him.” It was a sad statement from Ashton, whose sympathy made Calum swallow.

“Missed?” he repeated sarcastically. “Miss, you mean.”

His hands slowed down unwillingly, he dropped the last handful cherries into the trough. Ashton was right, something was up with Roy, but Calum had no idea what it was. Could be anything, career, his love life, family, health —

His heart sank. He asked: “Ash, what if he’s sick?”

“What? No, no. You’re overreaching, Cal. Don’t do this.”

But the uneasy feeling didn’t vanish, it only settled deeper in Calum’s mind. If Roy was sick… no. No, he wouldn’t be able to handle that. Losing his parents had already been the hardest thing he’s had to go through, he wouldn’t be able to survive losing someone else dear to him, no. Never.

“Stop thinking, Cal,” Ashton interrupted him, “you’re only hurting yourself. I’m sure it’s nothing bad. He’ll be back next month, so don’t worry, okay?”

“I’m not.”

“Liar.”

“Shut up.”

Ashton nudged him. “Come on, Cal. You’re imagining things.”

“Shouldn’t you be up on that ladder?”

“Probably.” Ashton grinned, and it was hard for Calum not to smile as well. There really was no one in the world who could get on his nerves like Ashton — but then again, there was also no one he’d rather forgive in a heartbeat.

“Thank you, by the way,” he quietly said.

Ashton grabbed the bucket again, making his way to the ladder. “For what?”

“For not forcing me to like Luke.”

“Cal.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help it.”

“Calum.”

“He’s just — he is so easy to hate.”

“Calum Hood.”

The stern tone made Calum hesitate and look up. “Yeah?”

“You know I would never force you to do anything. Right? You’re still my best friend, you’re still number one.”

“After Eloise.”

“Next to her.”

“Aw,” Calum managed, probably a little too touched by the answer, but he tried not to show it. “Love you too.”

“I know,” he heard Ashton, now from above him somewhere. “And I doubt that you actually hate Luke.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong, though,” Calum insisted.

“Let’s bury that topic, okay?”

“Alright.”

“Can you put on some music?”

“He doesn’t hate you, Luke,” Eloise said determinedly, stirring some dough while Luke took charge of the strawberries for the jam they would later make. The kitchen was flooded by the bright sunlight peeking in through the old windows, and soft music from an old turntable twirled in the air, automatically making Luke hum along.

Calum sighed.

*

“He does, though. He doesn’t like me at all. Do you not see those glances? If he could, he’d make me leave.”

“Cal would never make someone leave who means so much to his best friend.”

Luke’s hand came to a halt. He looked up at Eloise, who turned to him with some hesitation.

“What is it?” she asked.

“You mean… Ashton?”

Eloise scoffed, amused. “Mais, absolument.”

“Absolument…  absolutely?”

“Oui,” Eloise said, delighted over his learning progress in the past weeks. “Ashton loves you, Luke. I thought that was obvious?”

Strangely enough, it never occurred to him that Ashton could possibly still like him that much after all this time. Luke was so used to people just accepting his presence, barely acknowledging who he even was and only concentrating on the hype over his person, it felt unreal to really be liked by someone. Someone who didn’t just pretend.

“Sometimes I wish I could go back, you know,” he quietly said after a while, putting the knife down. Eloise paused, cleaning her hands before coming over to the kitchen table and sitting down across him.

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know.” Luke shrugged, uncertain. “Not really. It’s just… what if I made the wrong decision back then? Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to New York. Get into music.”

“Do you think it would’ve changed things?”

“Don’t you?”

A laugh as clear as clear as a bell cut through his gloomy thoughts, making Luke look up to a delighted Eloise.

“Luke, mon cher. C’est complètement ridicule.”

“It’s not!”

“It is! It wouldn't have changed anything! You are here now because you're meant to be here now. It doesn’t change anything if you keep reminiscing.”

“I know, I know. I just regret all those years not talking to him. I could’ve reached out.”

“So did he.”

Eloise raised an eyebrow at him, making Luke smile a tiny bit. Fine, maybe she had reason, but it didn’t make the guilt vanish. Luke still felt as if he hadn’t done enough. Years and years he had spent trying to live a life that possibly wasn’t even what he wanted, he slowly came to realise now, and sitting here, in Ashton’s and Eloise’s kitchen, the sunlight making patterns on the table, the strawberries leaving red stains on his fingers, he wondered if maybe he did it all wrong.

“I envy you, Lou. You’re living the dream.”

She tilted her head, the former content expression fading a little. “It’s still hard, though. You have it so easy. You have so much money, you probably won’t have to worry for the remainder of your life. I’ll probably have to work in my café until I drop dead one day.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Luke joked, picking up the knife again to continue preparing the strawberries.

“Maybe,” Eloise said, nicking one of the sweet, red fruits before Luke could stop her. “But I think you shouldn’t regret anything. Just enjoy this new chapter. Things will fall into place, I’m sure.”

Her assurance calmed Luke’s nerves better than he had expected. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll try.”

It took a few more days — specifically the weekend — for Luke to gather the courage to eventually face Calum again. Ashton urged him to not miss yet another Wine Sunday, so he gave in for the sake of not falling out of favour with him.

“Bien. Now come here, I’ll show you how to make the best éclairs you’ll ever have.”

*

It was a hot evening, now, towards the end of june, the sun seemingly didn’t want to leave the orange sky, even if the moon was already up to call it a night. Her light made the meadows around them gleam, the water in the streams glow, the leaves look like fire on the tall trees lining the winding roads. There was a boisterous buzzing in the air, and the high temperature caused them to get drunk much easier than usual. The wine even made Calum loosen up. Not that he talked too much now, but he actually held a conversation with Luke without making a snappy comment, and Luke realised that maybe Eloise had reason. Maybe Calum didn’t hate him as much as he had thought.

“You should put on, like, a show here someday,” Calum said while opening the fourth bottle of white wine. They were at Ashton’s this time, giving Luke the opportunity to disappear if and whenever he wanted to. So far, things were fine — they were a much smaller group than the last time Luke had been involved, which made it easier for him to relax. Sophie even apologised to him first thing when she had spotted him, explaining that she simply had been a bit surprised at his statement, but surely didn't mean anything bad about it. Luke was in a mood too good to hold any grudge, especially because she didn’t explicitly say something bad these few weeks ago.

“Do you have a crush, then?” she asked after they straightened things out. “Anyone around here maybe?”

“No,” Luke quickly said. “No, I don’t.”

“Ben, it’s a shame you’re gay. I’d totally take you out for dinner.” She grinned at him, and Luke returned it.

“Well, if I weren’t gay, I’d totally take the offer.”

He heard Calum pretend-gag and threw his napkin at him, but Calum caught it without any effort.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Calum reminded him while pouring them both some more wine.

“I doubt people would go, to be honest.”

“I don’t. They’d love some new music. I’d love to go to a small concert of yours.”

“Seriously?” Luke frowned. Calum liked his singing? He had never said anything in that direction. And now this?

“Well, yeah. I’d like to count how many would boo you out,” Calum said and a wide grin spread on his face, making Luke groan.

“Asshole.”

The night went on, and although the sun only slowly sank, the temperature dropped quite quickly. “You okay, Luke?” Ashton asked after some time, tilting his head at his cousin who slowly nodded but rubbed his arms.

Calum just laughed.

*

“Yeah, yeah. Just a bit cold.”

“You want me to get you a blanket?”

“No, it’s fine. You know, I wouldn’t be freezing if someone had remembered to return a certain jacket,” Luke replied, glancing at Calum with a most obvious innuendo.

Now? Now he had to bring this up again?

“You could’ve just asked,” Calum defended himself, “I stopped by several times, it’s not my fault you’re never home.”

“Oh, come on, seriously? It’s been two weeks, Calum. Two. More than enough time to catch me. And I most definitely was home quite a lot.”

“You could have come over yourself if it was so urgent.”

“You lent it from me.”

“You offered it to me.”

“Yeah, duh, you were fucking freezing, you dumbass.”

“Get it now, then, if you’re so desperate for it.”

Luke stared at Calum, and everyone stared at Luke, waiting for his response, which surely — why wouldn’t it be — would end up being something along the lines of “Are you stupid?”. Luke though seemed to be full of surprises tonight (or maybe he was just drunk, wouldn’t be unlikely regarding the countless bottles on the table), because he stood up unexpectedly.

“Fine, I will.”

Calum stared at him dumbfounded. “What?”

“I’ll go get it. It’s only ten p.m. and I could use a walk, if I'm being honest.”

The fact that he was being all serious made Ashton laugh. “Luke, c’mon. It’ll be dark as soon as you’re there. And besides, we have plenty of blankets or jackets, if you want.”

“No, it’s alright, really.”

Calum tried to laugh, ridiculous as it was, but he rather found it pitiful. He wanted to take a walk for a damn jacket? A jacket? And a rather ugly one as well?

“You can't just go to my house, Luke,” he said, loudly, making Luke slow down, who was already on his way to the house and now turned around without stopping.

“Give me your keys then,” he replied, slowly walking backwards.

“No,” Calum protested, “I won't just give you my keys.”

“Guess I’ll just go for a walk then.”

And like that, Luke disappeared inside, leaving them with their mouths open.

“Is he serious?” Ashton asked Calum with raised eyebrows.

“I… I think so.”

It wasn't that Luke wasn’t right — the sky was still a faint orange, the moon only faint and high above them, but it surely wouldn’t take long until dawn.

Ashton sighed. “He’s gonna get lost, I’m telling you,” he said, and now he got up as well, giving Eloise a kiss beforehand.

She looked at him confused. “Où va-tu?”

“Go after him, obviously,” he answered as if it was only logical, already putting on his jacket. “D’you think I’ll let him walk alone? This man has no sense of orientation whatsoever.”

In sober hindsight, Calum definitely questioned what he now did. If he had been sober which he was far, far from right now, he wouldn’t have done it. Definitely not. Why should he? It wasn't his problem what this guy did nor if he got lost. He was old enough to take care of himself. He’s travelled the world for fuck’s sake! Still, somehow none of these arguments came to his mind when he downed the rest of his wine, put the glass down and sighed before getting up as well, making their group look up at him, including Ashton.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll go and get him,” Calum announced, grabbing his own jacket.

“No, it’s fine, Cal, really.”

“These are your guests, you should stay,” Calum said, “I don’t mind. I was gonna head home soon anyway.”

That was a lie. He wasn’t sure why he lied, because it was as trivial as could be, and he definitely would have stayed longer if their evening hadn’t gotten interrupted, but well. As already mentioned, he was drunk. And so was Ashton, he was sure, who wouldn’t have agreed without further questions if he hadn’t had four glasses of wine just like Calum.

“Alright,” Ashton replied, although a bit confused, yet not for long as he seemed thankful to be able to continue talking with his friends when he sat down again.

“I’ll see you all,” Calum said, waving to his friends before making his way through the garden to the house. How far would Luke be already? He had no idea. Probably not that far considering how slow a walker he usually was — never in a hurry, always on the lookout for whatever things there were to discover. A dreamer. Someone with imagination and wonder, which Calum still sometimes struggled to find. He pulled the front door close behind him and put on his jacket, then made his way down the long winded driveway. The air was getting colder already so he zipped up his jacket all the way, yet the sky was still bright, only that now it turned into a faint violet with a few stars already peeking through. He would have to hurry, otherwise he might not find Luke in the dark. To no one’s surprise, Luke actually hadn’t gotten that far in the time it took Calum to get up and leave: only minutes later he spotted a tall silhouette in the distance, and sure enough, it was Luke he approached from behind. He poked his side without saying a word, making Luke flinch with a loud “Oh my god!” and almost hitting Calum as he turned around, who started laughing out loud.

“Are you fucking insane?” Luke asked, stumbling away from him, clearly upset — but a smile starting to spread on his face as well as he continued walking, turning his back on him. “I can't stand you, Calum.”

“I know, you’re literally walking.”

“I — I thought my humour was bad, but that definitely was even worse.”

“You laughed, though.”

“Yeah, about you, not the joke.”

“Keep telling yourself.”

They continued, though on the opposite sides of the road now in step, and it took a while until Luke eventually noticed and asked: “What are you even doing here?” He still seemed to be cold, having his arms crossed and jaw clenched, but Luke was no one to admit to such things. That they had in common apparently. Stubbornness.

“Ashton was worried you might get lost,” Calum said, shrugging, as if he was telling the truth. Truthfully though, he had been worried as well. Luke definitely wasn’t good at finding his way around, and the dusty roads and field paths all looked the same in this country. He’d get lost in the quiet night that was currently setting in, the sky becoming a darker shade of violet with every minute.

“Were you serious about just taking a stroll or do you still want your jacket?” Calum asked after a few minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence.

“I was, I often take late night walks actually, but the jacket would be a nice bonus, yeah. But I’d still do this even without.”

“Really? Why?”

“It’s the only time of day I have for myself. I mean, completely for myself.”

“Oh. Right.”

It was weird how Calum regularly forgot that Luke wasn’t actually just some weird rich cousin but an actual famous musician who just stayed here over the summer to get some rest. Of course he would have a busy life then.

“Don’t you ever get a break?”

“Oh, I get lunch breaks.”

Luke’s answer made Calum chuckle, although it clearly wasn’t meant as a joke, and he did feel a little bad for him, but Luke’s lips broke into a smile as well and reassured him.

“It’s fine, though. I’m used to it; besides, it’s a dream come true to do what I do for a living, so I shouldn’t be complaining.”

“Everyone has the right to complain. I mean, obviously it’s still stressful as hell, isn’t it?”

“It can be. Especially touring. Waking up at five, working out, rehearsing, going on stage, getting back to the hotel and immediately going to bed again ‘cause you’re so fucking tired… there are nicer schedules to have in a day. For weeks straight. Months. But it’s awesome still of course.”

Calum raised his eyebrows in sympathy. “So, do you miss it already?”

Luke took his time answering, which made Calum even more suspicious if Luke made the right choice with his career. Shouldn’t he be ecstatic? Looking forward to going back? It was too dark by now to figure out his expression, so Calum waited for an answer, which only came after several minutes of silence.

“I think I do. But I’m not completely sure, to be honest.”

That did not sound convincing at all. “Oh, okay. Well, maybe that’s why you’re here too, huh? To figure things out.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Luke didn’t seem to want their conversation to go on, so Calum decided to end it here and now, and they walked on quietly, only the crickets’ chirping in the dark grass around them breaking through the cold nightly atmosphere. Something was in the air, Calum noticed after they crossed a small stream not far from his home, but it took a deep rumbling for him to realise what it was. They both came to a halt and looked up, then at each other, then simultaneously said: “Thunderstorm.”

It made them laugh, which was relieving after the tense atmosphere from before, and they went on again. Only with less distance this time. The thunder became more frequent, and it felt as if the air was buzzing.

“How much further is it?” Luke asked in between two especially loud rumblings, and Calum noticed him looking up several times, arms tightly wrapped around himself. Was he scared?

“Not that far,” he responded calmly, side-eying Luke, “only down this road. See that tall tree in the distance?”

“Yeah? Oh! Is that the old chestnut tree in your front yard?”

“It is, yeah.”

“Not that far then,” Luke said, and he already sounded much less afraid.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of thunderstorms.”

“I’m not.”

“Sure.”

“I’m not, Calum.”

“What are you going so fast for then?” Calum asked, stopping and making Luke come to a halt as well, who definitely had paced up the last minutes. Luckily it was too dark to see the other’s face, Calum was sure he’d see Luke blush like a child who had been caught lying about a stolen chocolate bar.

“I wasn’t going fast,” Luke mumbled.

“Lie.”

“Well, maybe I was because I’m cold, ever thought about that?”

And they were back once again.

“This is ridiculous, Luke.” Calum shook his head, starting to walk again, ignoring Luke who had to sprint to catch up with him. The tense atmosphere was back, and it was no one’s fault but Luke’s, Calum decided.

“Okay, okay, I take it back. Seriously,” Luke said when he was next to Calum again, a little out of breath. “Sorry.”

Calum blamed the wine for him offering Luke his jacket in response. Hopefully he wouldn’t remember much of this night, he thought as Luke refused, claiming it wasn’t that far anymore anyway.

“Fine, if you don’t —“

Calum broke off.

“Oh no,” Luke whispered, and they both came to a halt.

Something wet and lukewarm dropped on their extended hands and their faces, starting to run down their cheeks. There was something about the very first summer rain that always made Calum take a few moments to really feel the first few warm teardrops on his skin, breathe in the warm, stuffy air promising thunder and lightning, and watch the dark clouds pile up above him.

“Fuck,” Calum sighed. “You ready?”

“For what?” Luke asked, perplexed.

“To see who gets to my house first.” Calum grinned.

“I’m not going to fucking run.”

“Oh, so you’re scared you‘ll lose.”

“I wouldn’t lose,” Luke shot back. “I’m faster than you for sure.”

“Because you’re taller or what?” Calum taunted. The rain was now getting heavier, it had to be horribly uncomfortable for Luke in only his shirt, but he didn't say anything about it. Luke was breathing heavily now.

“Fine. Fine, let’s do it,” he eventually said with a determination unlike him, and a grin washed over Calum’s face.

“Alright,” he said, turning to Luke, the rain so much heavier and dense now it even started to soak through his jacket. “On my mark. Ready?”

“To win? Absolutely.”

And the competition was on. They started off fast, almost at the same pace, but after a while Luke did take the lead, slowly but steadily. It was terrible, the rain was getting cold on Calum’s skin, he could barely see where they were going, and after a while they both tripped and stumbled, and they fell into a disastrous laughing fit like 12 year olds, until Luke eventually tripped so hard because of it he could no longer save himself from hitting the rough, sandy, wet asphalt with full force.

“Fuck, Luke, are you okay?” Calum immediately slowed down, hurrying over to him. Luke was on his knees and hands, head held low, and he was cursing under his breath, his cheerful mood washed away like chalk on asphalt did by the rain.

“I don’t know,” he quietly managed. “My hands.”

“Can you get up? Come on, try.”

Luke did, and slowly got up, but it was too obvious he hurt his knees and his hands even worse — and indeed, when Calum turned them around, they were bloody, the red fluid mixing with the rain made it easy for it to run down Luke’s arms.

“We gotta get you home,” Calum said pointedly, “now.”

Luke didn’t argue.

The rain heavily thumped against the old windows, echoing in Calum’s hallway when they finally entered his house, and they immediately went into the kitchen to take care of Luke’s hands which thankfully looked worse than they really were, only a few cuts on his palm and fingers that somehow bled ridiculously bad. Luke still hissed when Calum wiped them off with disinfectant.

“You’re almost done, stay still,” Calum mumbled.

They were at his kitchen table, Luke sitting down while Calum knelt down in front of him. Both were freezing, and Calum’s hands were shaking a little, making it even harder to properly bandage Luke’s cold hands.

“Do you need something for your knees?”

“No, I don't think so.”

Calum still dampened a cloth to at least wipe the dirt off of Luke’s knees, and to his surprise, Calum was surprisingly gentle even though the scars on his hands would lead on otherwise from all the work he had to do all year. Him kneeling there, right in front of Luke and so close, was something Luke had a hard time dealing with. He must’ve drunk more than he thought, or maybe his head was dizzy from the incident beforehand — either way he just couldn’t stop himself from staring at Calum. He reminded him of Alex with his unruly raven-black hair, the expressive jawline, which caused an icy feeling in his stomach only adding to the cold he already felt crawling on his skin due to his thoroughly drenched shirt. He tried to suppress the shivers, but he quickly understood how bad he was at hiding them. Therefore, he was all the more grateful when Calum eventually got up to wash out the cloth.

Whatever his mind had just done, whatever his eyes had just lingered on Calum’s dark eyelashes for so long for, Luke didn’t want to know. It weirded him out.

“Thank you,” he quietly said when Calum dried off his hands, back tuned on him, yet no reaction whatsoever.

“De rien.” Oh. Calum easily fell back into french when something bothered him, Luke had witnessed it a few times already, so something was up.

“We should get your jacket.”

Or not.

Calum nodded towards the hallway, and Luke got up, slower than usual, but he tried not to pull a face to not further concern him. The tension between them was heavy enough already. The walk up the stairs was worse, and when he eventually followed Calum into his bedroom, he tightly crossed his arms to try and stay warm… and failed terribly.

“There,” Calum said, picking up the familiar piece of clothing and holding it out to Luke until he noticed something and paused.

“You're freezing.”

“Only a little.”

“Your shirt is soaked, Luke.”

“Well, yeah,” Luke snapped before grabbing the jacket. “That's what we're here for, right? So now I’ll go and we’re finally done with this. I won’t bug you anymore.”

He put it on, knowing fully well it wouldn't do shit for warming him up, but he zipped it up anyway. Calum called after him when he left the room, but any response was swallowed by Luke’s phone starting to ring. His cold fingers had trouble getting it out of his back pocket, but when he finally got a grip and picked up, it was no other than Ashton calling. He sounded worried.

“Hey, man, where are you?”

“We’re at Calum’s.”

“So you made it before the rain?”

“No, not really.” Luke leant against the wall and looked down on his shoes, trying to ignore Calum standing in the doorframe of his bedroom, frowning at him.

“Well, I’m too drunk to pick you up, and so is everyone else I’m afraid,” Ashton continued, audibly slurring a litte. “D’you have someone to get you home?”

Luke’s heart dropped. “No, I don’t, Ash.”

“Oh, right. Uh, Cal’s not sober by any chance, is he?”

Luke looked up at the aforementioned, who now leant his head against the frame, obviously tired, and obviously too drunk still.

“Of course not,” Ashton sighed, “dumb question, but I’m sure you can just crash. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, okay? Try not to scratch each other’s eyes out until then.”

“Ashton, I —“

“He won't mind, don’t worry.”

The connection broke off, leaving Luke hanging, and he lowered his hand, heart starting to race. He didn’t want to stay. He didn’t want to stay at Calum’s. How awkward was that? And Calum would most definitely mind, Luke knew that. Calum was a private person, and he here was, intruding and breaking into his home like some entitled guy who just took whatever desired. He didn’t want to ask. Should he just walk? But the rain was still thumping against the windows, and he was still shivering, so that really wasn’t an option.

“You gonna crash here?” Calum eventually asked, interrupting his train of thought, and opened his eyes to stare at Luke. “But then again, what choice do we have, huh. Come on. We gotta get you to warm up.”

He turned around, went back into his bedroom and apparently expected Luke to follow him. Get him warm? How?

Luke pushed himself off the wall and made it back to the bedroom as well, where Calum was searching his wardrobe and eventually pulled out a big hoodie and some strangely familiar pair of jeans he held out for Luke.

“You can take a shower beforehand. If you want.”

“No, thank you. But no.”

There was something in Luke’s eyes — if he even saw it right in the dim light — that made a weird impression on Calum. As if something was wrong with the hoodie. Or maybe it was the jeans? At least Luke didn’t comment on them, because otherwise Calum wasn’t sure if he would’ve held back with his response, and he expected Luke to give them back tomorrow immediately.

“Well, take it,” he said, tossing the pieces of clothing to Luke who caught them reluctantly yet effortlessly.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? I can just walk home, really. If you have an umbrella, that’d be appreciated, but otherwise it’d really be no problem, I swear.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. I don’t want to stay here.”

“Well, I don’t want you to stay here either, but you’re here now and it’s raining, so shut it, okay?”

Luke did, however he still made no move to change. Calum rolled his eyes. Did he have any other issues?

“Do you need me to look away or what?”

“Actually, that’d be nice.”

Luke’s serious tone made Calum frown, but he didn’t want to make this more uncomfortable than it already was, so he unwillingly leant against his wardrobe and waited. Luke took his time and his shoes off first, and Calum really tried not to, but his eyes just automatically wandered over to him when he took off his shirt. It was the first time he’s seen Luke take his shirt off since they had met, in his defence, so really, anyone would’ve stolen at least a glance, wouldn’t they? Just to see if he was as well-toned as his shoulders had led on all the time. Just to see if was more trained than Calum.

And, oh well, he was.

Calum only saw a glimpse of his torso, really, but it was enough. What  caught his eye though, was something else, yet it was too short a moment to really make sense of it, Luke immediately put on his hoodie and hid whatever Calum could’ve seen. Maybe he didn’t see anything at all. Maybe it was only a shadow. But whatever it was, it would stay on his mind from then on, and when Luke looked over to him and caught him watching, he turned away with burning cheeks.

Fuck.

He threw Luke’s wet clothes into the washing machine and led him back downstairs to his living room — “You don’t mind sleeping on my couch, do you?”, as if Luke had a choice — and got him several pillows and blankets.

It was still cold, and Luke still seemed to be freezing, so when he had changed himself, he decided to light a fire in his fireplace and snuggled into some blankets in his armchair as well, slowly warming up. Luke quickly fell asleep that way, allowing Calum to look at him without shame, and he once again was fascinated by how golden his hair shimmered in the light of the fire, how his lashes accentuated his eyes, how his cheekbones glowed. He hated him for how good-looking he was, as if having an angelic voice wasn’t enough. As if people going down on their knees for him without any questions asked wasn’t too much. It had to be his appearance that lured people into worshiping him, because Calum wasn't sure why else anyone would like him. There was one thing he was sure of though, and that was that he most definitely wouldn’t fall for his looks. He knew Luke by now. And that was too much trouble already.

[maluminspace]

could you do C #15,26 with Calum? like y/n is so drunk and cal takes care of her? thank you ❤️

C15 “I’m so tired I can barely move.”

C26 “I’m not going anywhere.”

The room was spinning.

The music sounded muffled and your legs felt like jelly beneath you.

You needed to find your friends but every face that swam past you was blurrier than the last.

As you stumbled through the crowd, you thought you heard a familiar voice call your name. You didn’t really have the presence of mind to turn around, though.

You waded through the mass of bodies writhing on the dance floor until you reached a clearer space. Your vision was still blurry and you were sure your knees were about to give way under you at any second.

Just as your legs trembled alarmingly, a strong arm wrapped around your waist and helped you to tight to keep on your feet. “C’mon, sweetness.” A familiar voice said, as you were led towards the exit.

Your boyfriend Calum called you ‘sweetness’ all the time, it was his favourite pet name for you, but he wasn’t supposed to be here! It was a boyfriend-free event.

You glanced sideways, trying to get a look at the person who was holding you. Even in your inebriated state, you recognise the smell of Calum’s deodorant and the unique way that it mingled with the lingering scent of smoke from his last cigarette.

As the two of you left the main room of the club and stepped into the dark reception area, your vision focused enough for you to confirm that it was indeed Calum with his arm around you. “You’re not supposed to be here!” You slur, pouting at the injustice. “‘M with my friends... it’s a no boyfriend night!”

Calum met your unsteady gaze, eyeing you worriedly as he led to the exit of the club. “Your friends called me to pick you up.” He replied, “they’re waiting out here to say goodbye to you, then I’m taking you home.”

“No...” you whine, dragging out the ‘o’ sound for far longer than necessary. “It’s still early and I wanna dance!”

“It’s almost three am and you can dance next time, sweetness.” Calum reassured you. “Right now it’s time to get you home.”

You grin crookedly, remembering the last time Calum had taken you home after a night out. Maybe leaving the club early wasn’t such a bad idea after all. “Oh... you gonna ‘take care’ of me like you did last time?” You smirked, “‘cus I’d really like that! Just don’t break my lamp this time, I can’t afford to replace it again...”

Calum’s cheeks coloured in an embarrassed blush. He obviously remembered how he’d swept everything off the table in your hallway in order to fuck you on it.

As the cool air hit you, so did the inevitable nausea. You were pretty sure getting a cab back to your place is a bad idea but you knew it was a bit too far to walk. You didn’t have time to think about it now, though.

As promised your friends were waiting just outside the entrance to the club and as soon they laid eyes on you, you were engulfed in a group hug.

It took you a good few minutes to say goodbye to them all whilst Calum waited patiently. Faintly you thought about how your boyfriend always looked so effortlessly cool. Like right now - leaning against the wall of the club, the collar of his leather jacket turned up to protect his neck from the chill. “Okay... I’m going home to fuck Calum, now.” You laugh drunkenly. “Well it’ll probably be the other way around but...” you trailed off, laughing and shrugging your shoulders.

Your friends laughed louder than they probably would usually, a sign that they were probably almost as drunk as you were.

Calum’s cheeks were a vivid crimson colour when he came over to convince you that now was definitely a good time to leave. “I’m just telling my friends about how we’re gonna fuck when we get home.” You explained, still giggling. “I need to tell them how you broke my lamp last time!”

“No, no...” Calum urged gently. “I’m sure they don’t need to hear about that. “And I think that we’ll just be sleeping when get home to tonight.”

Your friends joined you a chorus of boo’s as Calum waved distractingly to them all and wrapped his arm around your middle again, ready to guide you to a cab.

“I don’t wanna sleep...” you whined as Calum led you down the busy Main Street. “Why did you even come and get me if you were just gonna take me home to sleep?” You said the final word with as much distaste as you could muster.

“Because I love you.” Calum replies without missing a beat. “Even when you overshare with your friends about our sex life.” He giggled a little and the way his eyes crinkled in the corners made you feel like you were falling in love all over again.

“Well you’re really good!” You replied honestly, albeit a few octaves higher than necessary. “When someone is getting good sex, they should definitely tell their friends about it!” You explained rather mater-of-factly before you turned to face Calum again. “Don’t you talk about me with your friends?”

An undeniably guilty expression coloured Calum’s face as ignored your question completely. “I don’t think you’ll survive a cab ride home without puking, so I’m gonna take you back to my place, okay? It’s only a few minutes walk from here.”

“I know where you live, Calum!” You nodded, giving into his sneaky subject change.

Another wave of nausea hit you as you turned into the side street that leads to Calum’s apartment.

“You okay, sweetness?” Calum asked, undoubtedly noticing the way your face drained of colour.

You shook your head in reply, already fighting to keep the contents of your stomach where they were.

Calum led you into a small alley behind the row of bars and clubs you’d just walked past. He bent you over slightly, trying to ensure that when you vomited, it wouldn’t be all down the front of you clothes.

It only took a few more seconds of Calum rubbing your back before you inevitably puked all over the pavement. Your boyfriend stayed with you the whole time, though, encouraging you to get it all out and promising to get you a nice glass of cold water when you got back to his place.

You tangled your fingers in the collar of calum’s leather jacket to keep him close to you, scared that he’d leave you because being sick is so gross.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” Calum promised, continuing to rub your back until you had nothing left to bring up.

When you were absolutely sure you’d finally finished emptying your stomach, Calum wrapped his arm around your waist again and led you back out onto to the street, heading towards his apartment building.

You’d always hated being sick, so it came as no surprise to anyone that you started crying into Calum’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, sweetness.” Calum soothed gently. “We’re nearly home now, then you can rest, yeah?”

You nodded in response, clinging to Calum like he was the only thing that mattered to you.

In your drunken state the short walk to Calum’s apartment wiped the last of your energy. “I’m so tired I can barely move...” you whined, as Calum led you into the elevator.

“Just a couple more minutes, sweetness.” He smiled, keeping you close to him with that ever present arm around your waist. “Then you can sleep as much as you like.”

Your boyfriend practically carried you down the corridor leading to his apartment. He even kept hold of you as he opened the front door, even though it made the small task a lot harder.

When the two of you finally stumbled into Calum’s living area, he deposited you on the sofa before he ran to get you some water, which took straight to the bedroom for you.

Somehow, you managed to get to your feet and follow your boyfriend to the bedroom. Your heart kind of melted when you saw him laying out an old t-shirt for you to wear. “You’re the cutest...” you smiled dopily as you leaned heavily against the doorframe.

“C’mon, trouble.” Calum giggled, sliding off his leather jacket before leading you over to the bed.

Your boyfriend helped you change into the t-shirt before stripping down to his boxers. “Have a sip of water for me before we go to sleep, yeah?” He asked gently, “I’m just gonna use the bathroom and then I’ll be back to cuddle you, okay?”

You nodded in response and took a small sip of the water he’d left for you on the bedside table. Even though you were looking forward to cuddles with Calum, you flopped back into the pillows and allowed sleep to take you long before he returned from the bathroom.

Masterlist

[babybluelukes]

5SOS on Zach Sang

[hollandsmushroom]

Oof okay from that prompt list 42, 44, 35. Smut pls. Maybe like friends to lovers?

42. “Holy fuck,”, 44. “Not here, there are people everywhere,”, 35. “Please baby, its all I want,”

Side note I love your blog so much!!

Warnings: Smut and unprotected sex

Let me know what you think!

Request something or use this Prompt List

If you don’t like it ask again and I would be more than happy to re-write it for you!

You sat on the couch in the living room of Ashton’s house, a party roaring around you, Cal had told you to come, you being his best friend you obliged, though it had been begrudgingly. Cal was heading to the party early to help Ashton set up so he had yet to see the outfit you had picked out. You had caught sight of him as soon as you had walked into the party but decided not to talk to him seeing as he seemed to be chatting up a girl, just seeing that sent a pang of jealousy through your heart that tried your best to ignore for the sake of your friendship and your heart. You had spent so much time of your friendship trying to suppress the feelings that your heart carried for Cal, but much to your dismay they remained there, and as prominent as ever. 

Deciding you had had just about enough of the whole ‘watching the man you have feelings for chat up another girl’ thing you pushed yourself off of the couch to get yourself a much needed drink, maybe many to drown out your attachment to a man you believed you couldn’t have. The kitchen was packed but you managed to squeeze your way through the crowd and reach the alcohol, a relatively handsome man stood by the table of liquor, he seemed to be serving as a sort of bartender, which if you were being honest the party really needed because everyone was reaching levels of sloppy drunkeness. You approached the table, surveying your options and deciding on some strongly flavored vodka that you could drink lots of without having to deal with the taste of alcohol. Just as you were about to down the shot the substitute bartender spoke.

“What’s a lady like you doing drinking alone?” he inquired

‘I am drinking alone because the man I am head over heels for invited me here but when I arrived he was too busy trying to get into another girls pants to notice my presence, that answers you questions of why am I drinking and why am I alone,’ you thought to yourself be thinking it better to not say that you came up with a also very true reason.

“I wanted a drink and I came alone,” you explained before taking a large drink of the almost sickeningly sweet liquor. 

“I can’t fix the fact that you came here alone but I can fix you leaving alone,” the man suggested cockily, his words and the taste in your mouth almost made you gag but before you could you heard a very familiar voice behind you.

“Holy fuck,” you spun around, meeting the eyes of Calum who seemed to be devouring your appearance in the skin tight black dress whole.

“Oh, hey Cal,” you nonchalantly spoke

“Hey Y/n,” his eyes had left you and were trained on the man that had moments before been hitting on you. 

“Cal,” you waved a hand in front of his face, “You okay?” 

He shook his head, snapping out of his admittedly very jealous haze, if only you could see just how much he wanted too make you his, maybe tonight he would show you.

“Yeah, yeah, I am fine, wanna go sit and chat?” he offered, gesturing towards the patio, which was slightly less crowded, with his thumb.

“Sure,” with that you left the confused bartender and exited the house through the wide open sliding glass doors. The both of you sat on facing adirondack chairs. 

You took a long sip of your drink, looking at Cal before licking your lips and speaking.

“So, Cal, what did ya wanna talk about?”

“Are you gonna go home with that guy,” Cal gestured behind him in the direction of the faux bartender. You were taken aback to say the least.

“I was thinking about it, I mean he was cute, why?”

“What if I can convince you not to,” Cal reached out a hand and ran it up your thigh sending shivers down your spine.

“Aren’t you gonna go home with the girl you were talking to earlier,” Cal tucked his chin indignantly back into his neck at you suggestion as though it were so preposterous.

“Why would I go home with her when I have all I want in front of me,” your heart skipped a beat at his words before coming back to earth with the realization that this was probably some drunken ramblings of your best friend.

“You’re just saying that cause you’re drunk and horny and that other girl ran of to some one else,” you spat, pushing Cals hand off of your leg and standing up, as you were about to walk away you felt a light grasp on your wrist causing you to turn back and face Cal.

“No, no I am not, I am not even drunk. I saw you talking to that guy and I heard him suggest you go home with him and I realized that I can’t watch you leave with someone else or without me  another night, because this,” he gestured between the two of you, “Please baby, its all I want,” This time you could have sworn his words caused heart palpitations.

“You’re not just saying that?” you questioned 

“No, I am not, I want this to happen,” he spoke sincerely

“Prove it,” you jested, a cheeky grin spread across his cheeks as he pulled you onto his lap, your legs being placed on either side of him so you were straddling his thighs.

“Happily,” he spoke before pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss, his hands running up and down your thighs as the passion you poured into each other increased. Soon you felt his hands slip under your dress and start towards your crotch causing you to pull back from his lips and look around at the still in full swing party that was taking place around you, before looking back into his brown orbs.

“Not here, there are people everywhere,” 

“As you wish,” he spoke starting to make moves to get up, “But you have to walk in front of me to ya know, save me some embarrassment,” 

“Anything for you, Cal,” and the two of you began walking, Cal had his hands on your waist as he walked pressed up against your but, you could feel his hard on through his pants. The two of you made it to the guest room of Ashton’s house, and as soon as the door closed behind the two of you, Cals lips were back against yours, your back pressed up against the door, his hands roaming your body before settling on your butt,  giving it a quick squeeze.

“Jump,” he demanded and you complied, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist, his lips left yours as they moved down to roam your neck and your cleavage, sucking marks as he went. He was quick to find your sweet spot and begin to start harshly sucking on the sensitive flesh, you threw your head back in pleasure, a moan ripping from your throat.

“I need to be inside you,” he mumbled into the skin of your neck, pushing the both of you off of the wall and making his way to the bed, laying you down on it as he shimmied his pants off, you rid yourself of your panties and he hiked up your skirt to above your naval, leaving the both of you nude from the waist down.

“Fuck, do you have a condom?” he cried exasperatedly 

“Baby, I am on the pill, go for it,” you offered and boy did he comply. After the words that assured him he didn’t need a condom left your mouth he was quick to line him self at your entrance, looking up into your eyes asking for one last assurance of permission.

“Go ahead, Cal,” you granted him, a grin on your cheeks, and with that he was in you, ramming his hips into yours as he reached a hand to your clit to increase you pleasure, with in moments the both of you were moaning messes. The pace of his thrusts and the movement of his fingers made it impossible to not almost immediately feel the building of your orgasm in the pit of your stomach.

“Cal, I am so fucking close,” you cried, dragging your nails down his back and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Oh fuck, so am I, Y/n,” he cried in response, the pace of his hips increasing as he felt your walls clench around him. 

“Cal, Oh fuck Cal, I am cumming,” you moaned out as your back arched and you released around him, the feeling of the pulse in your walls caused him to fall into his orgasm, the pace of his hips stuttering as he came down from his high. 

He rolled off of you and landed on the bed beside you, the both of you catching your breath before you broke the silence, rolling over to face him.

“You meant what you said earlier, right, that you have feelings for me, in a romantic capacity,” you asked, still nervous to hear the answer. He reached out and brushed some hair from your face.

“I meant it from the bottom of my heart,” he grinned, you returned the smile before sitting up and pulling down your dress as Cal shimmied his boxers and pants back on. You were searching the room for your underpants when Cal interrupted you.

“Looking for these?” he asked, holding out your panties

“Yes! Thank you!” you exclaimed, reaching out for them, only to have them snatched away from reach.

“I think I will keep them as a souvenir,” Cal spoke shoving them in his pocket before grabbing your hand and walking out to the party.

Taglist

@mylilbreadstick

@cthoodsthetic

@isabella10028

@dont-drop-that-lunchable

@moancurly

@numberonepoetryexpert

@heartbreak-5sos

@neonsgravestone

@i-don-t-wanna-shed-a-tear

@lukethecalumstan

[heartcal]

rejected ; c.h. (part vi)

summary: he was just a silly little crush that you had in high school, and you were sure that after graduating, you would be over it. so why is your heart beating fast as he sits next to you in your first class on your first day of college? chapter summary: calum recalls his past relationship. it may be time for you to tell calum how you feel. pairing: calum hood x reader (gender-neutral) genre: fluff, angst, classmates to friends to lovers au, college au warning(s): mentions and possible depictions of: toxic relationships, emotional abuse?, cheating, manipulation, cursing, cal's ex is MEAN >:^(, dialogue-heavy (again), reader sorta blows up? and so does calum? he's very confused and conflicted :^(, it gets very angsty oops -- italics are flashbacks!! sorry if it becomes hard to follow! word count: 4.5k words (omg)

a/n: i am going to be 100% honest, i lost track of time. i did not know august started already. i am very behind on time. someone knock some sense into me please. anyway, as usual, here's a link to donate to charities in the ukraine, and here's a link to an abortion fund that pisses off florida republican matt gaetz 😍 thank you for being patient with me <3 if there are any mistakes, please let me know! enjoy!

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Calum is sure he has a crush. He remembers this feeling; he felt it with Sheila when they dated. It’s a warm feeling, with butterflies in his belly, increased heart rate, and a growing warmth in his cheeks. However, those are synonymous with panic.

He’s afraid of this feeling. His last relationship took a toll on him, swearing off relationships until he was out of school and with a stable job. He wanted to focus on moving forward in life before settling down with the “one.”

It’s a simple idea, he thought, whereas dating during some pivotal years in his life would’ve slowed him down.

But now, he’s scared. He knows he has a crush, and it’s scaring him because what if what happened with Sheila happens again.

Of course, he can’t automatically assume that the next person who comes into his life will be just like Sheila, but it isn’t his fault that that’s where his mind ends up.

He remembers everything that happened that led up to that night. The one person he believed he was in love with, and she with him, had destroyed him. The days following were not any better.

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Freshman Year.

The first year of high school is always a journey. One day you know where all your classes are, and the next day, you get turned around and feel lost. The change from middle school to high school isn’t easy to adjust to, but with the right friends, it’s not as scary.

Calum sat alone at his lunch table, holding it down while his friends got their food. He observed the students in the cafeteria, recognizing most and finding a few unfamiliar.

“Here,” a tray is placed in front of him, “I got connections.”

Calum thanks Luke, ignoring the smirk Luke gives him and turns his attention to the girl standing next to him.

“Oh, this is Sheila,” Luke points at the girl as he takes his seat in front of Calum, “I met her in line. She’s got the next few classes with us.”

Sheila offers a smile as she sits next to Luke. Calum returns the smile before digging into his food. It felt weird having a girl sit at his table with his three other friends, but over time he found it to be just fine, seeing how she fit right into his group.

As the year went on, he realized he was with Sheila more; more than he was with his friends. He sometimes wished he was doing projects with her instead of the other students he got assigned. The way she would smile at him was different from the smiles she’d give the others. The pair would find each other in a crowd quickly, wanting to be by each other’s side.

There was a new feeling growing inside of him. Something he is not used to, but he’s welcoming it.

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He thought he wasn’t blind. He thought knew what Sheila was capable of. He ignored the rumors about her, claiming he knew who she was despite knowing her for such a short time. He was adamant on that fact. In his eyes, she could do no wrong.

He’d rather believe the idea he created in his head of her--rather than the real one that stuck by his side and relied on his affirmations. The same ones that she used to her advantage to manipulate those around her.

“You’re a good person, Sheila,” he would tell her, “don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

She’d take those words and use them against anyone who she believes wronged her.

“I’m a good person,” she would tell one partner during their break-up, “you’ll never be better than me.”

When it came to Calum, Sheila knew she had him in the palm of her hand. Every wrongdoing would go unnoticed by Calum, and she used that to her advantage. She knew the picture he painted in his mind of her would not change.

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Sophomore Year.

After another failed relationship, Sheila found herself next to Calum under a tree during P.E., crying on his shoulder as she vented her feelings.

After another failed relationship, Calum wants to open Sheila’s eyes.

At the end of freshmen year, he realized he had a crush on her. He didn’t try to deny the thought, to push the feelings away. Instead, he came to terms quickly and tried to find the right time to tell her.

Summer break was a bust. Sheila was in a relationship during the two-month break. By the end of the summer, that relationship ended, and Calum waited for the dust to settle before he made his move.

Unfortunately, it settled quickly enough for her to find a new boyfriend right at the start of the school year.

That relationship ended, which led to her crying on his shoulder.

“He said I’ll never find anyone,” she sniffles, bringing her sleeve up to wipe her face, “that I’m too high maintenance.”

There’s silence between them, Calum listening to her sniffles as he fiddles with his jacket’s zipper. He has the chance to do it now.

“You know,” he starts, looking around the field as the other students play soccer. Sheila lifts her head to look at him, an eyebrow raised for him to continue. Calum shifts his position, bringing his knees up to rest his arms, “you’re looking in the wrong places for a relationship.”

“What do you mean?”

Calum sighs, his heart rate increasing by the second as heat fills his cheeks. He looks at Sheila, “I like you, Sheila.”

She doesn’t move, nor does she blink.

That day, Calum had his first kiss. From then on, their relationship blossomed. Their friends were seemingly happy, though he noted some of the hesitations in their tones when they congratulated him. He chose to ignore it.

He also chose to ignore the statements from Sheila’s former partners.

“She will break your heart and make you think it’s your fault.” Ignored.

“She’s a snake in sheep’s clothing.” Ignored.

“Keep your friends close, she’ll keep you away from them.” Ignored.

Every warning said to him went in one ear and out the other. The version of Sheila they were telling him was not his Sheila. He will stand by that.

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The downfall began early in the relationship, but Calum played it off as Sheila still getting over her previous relationships. He thought she needed to heal, and that he was the perfect candidate for it. In a sense, he can change her.

He knew it was wishful thinking prodding at his brain, but he masked it with infatuation. There was a sense of pride he carried with him when the two would walk in the halls holding hands. In his mind, he got the girl many wanted, the girl of his dreams.

He only started seeing things for what they were when his friends (which were few; some distanced themselves after the relationship began) knocked some sense into him.

But even then, he could not pull himself out. He was attached to Sheila, something she knew and used against him.

A box under his bed taunts him to this day. Something he’s been holding on to for years, ever since he met Sheila. He should’ve gotten rid of it when they broke up, but he could never bring himself to.

With a grimace, he pulls it out. An old shoebox, with some rips and tears on the lid and a hole on the far left side. The lid was painted over with white paint, hastily as the brand logo was still noticeable, but enough to paint a red heart with Sheila’s and his initials in black.

“It’ll be cute,” he remembers, “we can look back on it and laugh at how cheesy we were.”

He can only laugh about how the inanimate box taunts him.

Inside was filled with letters, yellowed notes passed during classes and in between them. Small trinkets gifted to him from dates and school events, a pair of shoelaces she gifted one Christmas because the pair at the time was falling apart, a customized pen with his name misspelled; all of these were silly to hold on to. Specifically when the person who gave them to you is someone who purposely tore your heart out because they felt like it.

He eyes the small trash bin next to his desk, shifting from the box in his lap back to the bin. He can throw it out right now, and it’ll be a giant step forward—a chance to move on. He can feel his legs get ready to stand up, but he remains sitting on the bed.

His hands shake, gripping the box tightly as he tries to will himself to throw it away. But he can’t. Roughly closing the lid back onto the box, a sigh escapes as he leans down to place the box back under the bed.

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Another important test on the horizon means another study session in the library. It has become a custom for you and Calum to get together to study for your upcoming exams, big or small.

Having become friends over the past couple of months was not something you saw coming, but you are happy it’s this way. Sure, you did group projects in high school, but actually studying and hanging out was entirely different.

However, Calum wasn’t getting much done today. He hasn’t been getting much done, it seems. His notebook is opened to a blank page, save for a few dots and scribbles on the page where his pen hovered, whereas your page was nearly full.

Calum’s focus was non-existent. Everything happening inside his head clouded the dire need to study, to write down the important notes he needed for the upcoming quiz. In its place is confusion, a constant question ringing in his head about what his feelings could mean. He feels like he’s going to burst.

“Calum?”

He jumps, startled by both your quiet voice and the poke you give him with your pen to his forearm. He hums in response, readjusting in his seat.

“Are you okay?” you question, “I can’t help but notice that you haven’t taken any notes.”

Calum clears his throat, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind is all.”

He knows you don’t believe him. The look you give him before looking back down at your notes is a tell-tale sign that you are not buying his excuse, but he also knows you won’t try to push the real reason out.

That was something Calum liked about you. If he is having a bad day and did not want to talk about it, you would not push it out of him. Instead, you would be patient, giving him the space he needed until he was ready to voice his problems. It was admirable that you didn’t try meddling in his business, and he liked it even more when you offered smiles to help ease the rising tension.

When he was with Sheila, every bad day Calum had, had gotten progressively worse. When he kept to himself, Sheila would try to pull whatever problem he was having out of him, which would lead to an argument. If he wanted to talk about his problems, Sheila shut him out in favor of changing the topic, or at the very least, talking about her problems.

Lately, he’s found himself comparing you to his ex-girlfriend. It’s a bad habit Calum has, and he will admit it, but he cannot help but compare. There are little to no similarities, thank god, he thinks, but there were more than a handful of differences. Besides the aforementioned, he was quick to notice the aura. You were welcoming, warm, friendly, and careful. Sheila was arrogant, cold, and though he was late to realize, a narcissist. 

The gaslighting and manipulation were rampant throughout the time Calum knew Sheila. Ashton would mention the tendencies when Calum would come to his house to vent, but Calum would brush it off. At the time, he did not want that image of his perfect Sheila to be tainted. Once it was, however, his eyes opened to finally see the things others have been pointing out for years.

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Junior year.

That perfect image Calum had of Sheila was destroyed. The girl he knew in 9th grade was not the same girl he knows now. The sweet smile that reached her eyes was gone, and in its place, a scheming grin when she spoke to him.

Maybe that was the genuine Sheila, and the Sheila Calum knew, the one he misconstrued into his brain was the Sheila he wanted her to be. He does not know anymore.

What he did know, however, was that this relationship was a mistake. He knew he should have listened to those who warned him about her.

Unfortunately, he was in too deep. Calum felt that because he told her he loved her, it would be unfair to Sheila if he broke it off. 

It was his first real relationship. He wanted it to be the typical “high school sweethearts” trope he’s seen on TV. It was immature to picture your relationship like that, especially when everything on TV is fake. But he was excited to have a relationship, especially with it being his first one and lasting this long.

“Calum,” Ashton sighs. His hands run down his face as he eyes his teary-eyed friend to his right, “no offense, but your relationship ended when she lied about missing your anniversary. This 'thing' or whatever is going on right now is just adding insult to injury.”

Calum glances at Ashton through his tears, sniffling, “I know.”

Calum spent the night at Ashton’s house after that. Earlier in the day, rumors swirled about Sheila kissing a senior in the morning before school and after confronting her about it, Sheila hurled insult after insult toward him. Showering him in vitriolic insults that he knew would never leave his thoughts.

The next day, Sheila acted as if nothing had happened. She paraded Calum around like he was a prize, basking in the glares she received from the girls in the hallway. This was how Sheila wanted it to be. But as Calum passed by the happy couples, he could feel his heart clench, the longing for such a relationship. 

He needed to end this.

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“Calum,” another poke at his forearm shakes him from his memory, “you’re zoning out again.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. He then notices how you’ve already packed up your stuff, “did you finish?”

You shake your head, “No, but,” you shrug with a sigh, “it was kind of hard to focus with your pen tapping your notebook.”

Calum tries to stumble out an apology, but your gentle smile tells him you don’t need one.

“It’s okay, Calum,” you reach over and pat his hand twice, “I need a break anyway. My hand was starting to cramp.”

He wants to laugh with you, but with the memories resurfacing and feeling fresh, he cannot bring himself to do so. Instead, he packs his stuff up, intending to leave with you.

“Calum,” you watch as he packs his notebook and textbook into his bag, picking up on his speed as he haphazardly tosses his pen inside.

He hums, zipping his bag as he stands up.

“You know you can talk to me whenever you need to, right?”

He meets your eyes, nodding before his eyes drift across the library.

He’s avoiding your gaze. It was something you picked up on, something he would do when he had something on his mind that was plaguing him.

Not wanting to push this further you stand as well. The sun had set an hour ago; the air was crisp as autumn finally settled.

“Do you need a ride?” you ask as you approached the parking lot.

“Yeah,” Calum replies, “thanks.”

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Calum was not himself. In class, instead of him bugging you by resting his arm within your personal space, he kept to himself. Instead of drawing small doodles on your notes, he focused on his own notes.

It was bothering you to no end. You spent multiple nights complaining to Jess about the change in his behavior. Jess could only offer their sympathy.

After another quiet study session together, you were determined to get to the bottom of it.

Opting to meet in the nearby park, citing how nice the weather has been lately, you bite your pen cap as you anxiously wait for Calum to arrive.

You tried to be patient with him. You tried. There’s a limit for you and you reached it.

A shadow slowly appearing over you made you look up.

“Hey,” Calum greets, his corners turning upward briefly.

“Hi,” you return.

Silence engulfs the two of you fast. You can feel the tension in the air—the cool breeze was not responsible for the goosebumps that rose on your skin.

Calum gets right down to business, his English textbook out with a post-it on the new chapter. His notebook was open to a fresh page, and as he titled the page, you broke.

“Calum,” you sigh, “this is weird.”

“What do you mean?” he responds without looking up. His pen continues to move as he takes notes, making you wonder if he’s going to engage.

“This,” you gesture between you two, “something’s off with you.”

Calum shakes his head, “Just leave it—.”

“No!”

Your stern voice cutting him off finally has him giving you his undivided attention. His pen drops onto his page with a sigh.

“Calum, I’m sorry, but I can’t let this go on. What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

You scoff, “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“What are you trying to get at?” Calum breathes in slowly, realizing how loud he got as he glanced around at the small number of people around. He breathes out, shutting his eyes as he rubs his temples, “I don’t want to argue about this. Like I told you last time, I just have a lot on my mind.”

He wants you to let it go. He knows if this goes on, he’ll either say things he’s not ready to admit or that he’ll regret. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, he’s sure of that. But this prodding is only going to agitate him.

You’re not backing down. You tap your pen as you try to figure out a different approach to this. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What—no, it’s not—you’re not,” he stutters. He does not want you to know that you play a part in what’s happening. You’re innocent in this, but you are involved somehow. He pauses, recollecting himself before continuing, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Can we talk about this?” you push, ignoring how Calum’s jaw tenses, “I’m worried there’s more than what you’re letting on.”

He shakes his head, eyes begging you to stop. He licks his lips as he picks his pen back up, “Let’s just drop it, please.”

“I can’t.”

“This is ridiculous,” Calum’s pen slips from his fingers as he scoffs, “you’re really going to force it out of me, huh?”

You swallow the lump forming in your throat, shrinking as he lays his eyes on you. A nod of your head causes another scoff from Calum.

“I don’t get it. Why are you so curious? Why are you pushing me to tell you things I’m not even sure of yet?”

“Calum,” you whisper, but it goes unnoticed as Calum continues.

“We haven’t been friends for that long, you know. If I don’t want to tell you something, then I don’t want to tell you. You cannot do that.”

Calum knew he was going overboard. He knew these words would hurt you, and while he means some of it, he doesn’t mean most of the words he’s throwing at you. He can see a light gloss form in your eyes but it does not do a thing to stop him.

He laughs incredulously, “I don’t understand. What’s your deal?”

You’re silent, mouth slightly open as you try to comprehend the quick turn of events. How did we get to this point?

“Calum, I’m sorry—I thought—.”

“You thought what? Thought that you could be my therapist?” Calum scoffs, packing his things back up. He sucks his teeth, “Why do you even care?”

“Because,” you drift off, eyes dropping to your notebook as you blink rapidly to stop the spill of tears.

“Because, what?” He spits out, doing what he can to avoid the sad look on your face.

“Because I like you, Calum!”

The man in front of you freezes, his hand slowly moving out of his bag to grip the table. His eyes dance around the table as he tries to calm his breathing, “What do you mean?”

You sniffle, shaking your head, “I have this big, stupid crush on you. Have since high school, actually.”

The silence from earlier was back, and this time, the tension seeping through the air was giving Calum goosebumps.

He shakes his head, disbelief in his voice, “No you don’t. You can’t…you’re just confused.”

“I know I’m not fucking confused, Calum,” you abruptly stand, roughly grabbing the strap of your bag.

“Well, I’m sorry,” he stands as well, “I don’t feel the same way.”

The grip on your bag tightens, still refusing to meet his eyes as you nod slowly, “Yeah, I figured,” you step away from the table, reaching for your car keys in the front pocket of your bag before looking over your shoulder, “I thought it would be best if I tell you how I feel now before it boils over. You know, something you should try once in a while.”

Calum can feel the pain in your voice. The unshed tears toppled over, he can see it as you stood with your back towards him a few feet away. He watches your head turn back to face straight as you walk back to your car, and he wants to chase after you. His jaw continues to tense as he fights the urge, watching you get into your car and quickly leave the area.

Once you’re out of view, he lets his own tears fall along with a silent sob. He kicks the bench he previously sat at as he curses himself.

That interaction was what he was trying to prevent. He needed more time to figure out his feelings, to shake off his past that prevented him from acting out on those feelings. He was struggling—he will admit to that—but he needed to do it alone. Having it forced out like that would only do more harm. It’s like baking a cake: you wouldn’t take it out of the pan if it was only in there for a few minutes. You wait until it rises, that all the batter is cooked, and only when it’s cooled off can you take it out of the pan.

He can only see himself as pathetic now. He destroyed a friendship, and a possible relationship, all because he let his emotions get the best of him.

Calum composes himself enough to trudge back to his car, carelessly tossing his bag into the backseat before plopping down in the driver’s seat. Both hands on the wheel, he rests his head against them as his inner turmoil grows.

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Junior year.

“I don’t want to hear it, Calum,” Sheila spits at him, grabbing her purse, “I cannot believe you called me that!”

Calum scoffs, following after into the high school parking lot, “I said I was sorry, Sheila! You’re not innocent here, either.”

Sheila shakes Calum’s hand off her wrist once he catches up to her, increasingly aware of the lingering students. She doesn’t even bother to keep her voice down.

“Oh, so you listen to the rumors instead of listening to me, your girlfriend?”

“I saw it happen with my own two eyes, Sheila! They were rumors at first, but I saw it happen. This is the second time!”

Sheila waves her hands, brushing his words away as she turns to continue walking to her car.

Calum groans, “Why, Sheila? Why did it end up this way.”

Sheila stops walking, turning to face Calum again. Her face was void of emotion, but the ghost of a smirk lingered on her lips. She takes a few steps forward, arms crossed, “I thought I made it clear about what we were. You’re so dense that you couldn’t see what was really going on.”

Calum furrows his brows as confusion blooms on his face.

“Joe wasn’t the only one. Besides him, there was also Chris, and Justin, and Felix—I could go on, frankly. I was lucky to only have the one with Joe spread,” Sheila unfolded her arms, putting them on her hips as the smirk turns into a sinister smile, “Don’t you get it, Calum? I was never yours.”

“We—what?” Calum swears he can hear his heart break, the ringing in his ears could not cover that sound.

“I never agreed to be in a relationship with you, at least verbally,” Sheila shrugged, gauging his reaction, “I don’t see you the way you see me or the way you see this relationship. I thought you knew that.”

“I didn’t,” Calum gets out, his head barely shaking. If he moved it too much he was sure he would collapse.

Another shrug from Sheila, “Can’t be helped. Bye, Calum. Whatever this,” she gestures between them, “was is done.”

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Calum never knew someone could be so cruel. Someone he held close to him could take his heart out, chew it, spit it out, stomp on it, and toss it into the trash without a second thought.

He knew what heartbreak felt like that night their relationship (if he can call it that) ended. It was a feeling he never wanted to experience, and he certainly did not want to be the reason someone felt like that.

Laying in his bed with his phone unlocked, he recalls everything that happened earlier. He can only cringe, curling in on himself as he tries to fight the image of your teary eyes from engraining itself into his brain.

I can’t do this on my own, he thinks, grabbing his phone and opening a message thread.

ash, are you awake? (1:22am)

i fucked up bad this time and i don’t know how to fix this (1:23am)

can it wait until the morning?? (1:25am)

Calum sighs, feeling bad for bothering Ashton this late at night.

yeah, sorry if i woke you up. (1:25am)

He could stay up, trying to occupy his mind with a movie or a TV show, probably watch some documentary on YouTube to pass the time. Or, he could fall asleep as a reasonable person would, but the downside to that is the silence that will follow as his mind tries to shut down.

He groans, tossing his phone onto his carpeted floor before shoving his face into his pillow. Maybe it’ll be a good punishment for him to replay the moment he hurt you, again.

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taglist: @rexorangecouny // @hungrycrazy // @youneedtocalumdown // @itjustkindahappenedreally

[clumsyclifford]

THREE FOUR FIVE SIX FOR BRAZIL FIC BABY WOOOOOOOOOO

anything for you hot stuff <3 (obviously spoilers ahead for brazil fic)

a part of my heart that you'll never change (aka brazil fic)

3: What’s your favorite line of narration? big question for a 10k fic. now you've got me rereading it, and obviously i can't pick One Favorite line of narration but:

[...] It’ll be weird on tour, probably, trying to navigate this new landscape of, like, being in love with your bandmate, not to mention in a relationship with him, but — it’s worth it, is the thing. It’s worth it, all of it is. Terrifyingly, even losing the band might be worth it, if it comes to that. Which it won’t, of course it won’t, but it scares Michael a little bit that he’d be willing to make that sacrifice after they’ve worked so hard for this, all for Calum. Calum had said it but Michael feels it too; if it ever comes down to it, Michael will choose Calum.

He’s eighteen and he shouldn’t feel like his heart has already been signed over, but here he is anyway.

romance romance romance romance romance romance

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue? oh i feel certain ive mentioned this bit before but i just like it so much i'm mentioning it again

They giggle and blush some more, and Calum points them in the direction of Luke and Ashton, so they giggle and blush their way to Luke and Ashton, and then Calum looks at Michael and shakes his head and says, “I’m never going to get used to that, I don’t think.”

“That’s what all the rock stars say,” Michael goes.

can't explain it, i just love it so much. wait i found another one though so sorry you're getting two, this is more an exchange than a line but i don't care

“Have you ever been in love?”

Michael presses his lips together like that’s a normal question to receive from your best-friend-recently-turned-boyfriend. “I don’t know.”

“What? How can you not know?”

“Well, I don’t think I’d know if I had.”

Calum sits down in the sand, and once again Michael makes the concession, although he’s thinking about making a PowerPoint presentation on why sand is the root of all evil, complete with that Anakin Skywalker quote.

“How would you know if you were, then?”

Michael shrugs. [...]

“I don’t know,” he says again.

“Full of answers, aren’t you?” Calum says, shouldering Michael.

once again no explanations just vibes

5: What part was hardest to write? the football game i think, just because i've never been to a football game and never been to maracanã and i also don't really follow football as a sport so all of these factors made it difficult to write that part

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics? well this is one of a handful of my fics that are heavily influenced by specific personal experience. as i'm sure we all know. i spent some formative years in brazil in middle school and i love it very much and miss it a great deal and i really love that i could take advantage of that connection i have with a place calum hood also happens to have a link to. also, not for nothing, this is the fic that was written shortly after reading all of @anxietycalling's aka horriblekids's fics (that existed at the time) (there were four of them) and his style was reeeeally in my head and as a result this fic is stylistically just a lil different from my usual because it was very strongly influenced by his.

fic asks

[talkfastromance4]

Decided with Calum and dialogue 40 for day 11! Also, hockey!cal is already back🥰

Calum watched you from his permanent perch on his large couch as you fluttered like a bird around his apartment. It’s his first day with the brace from tearing his MCL in one of his games. You were watching from the sidelines when Cal got shoved by an opposing player and when he didn’t get up after thirty seconds, everyone was on alert.

His teammates circled around him, the ones on the bench stood up, his coach and medic ran straight onto the ice and you were standing in fear with the rest of the audience. A buzzing hum filled the arena, the announcer listing some stats while they wait to hear and see how Hood is doing.

Through the legs of everyone on the ice you could see he had his helmet off, his face contorted in pain as he nodded or shook his head at the medic. The ambulance car appeared on the ice and he was helped in a sitting position. You were out of your seat as he waved to the crowd and they applauded him off.

You weren’t allowed to see him until he was properly diagnosed and then you had to meet him at the hospital. To say you were scared was an understatement. You paced in the waiting area until you were told to see him.

“Hey Princess,” he smiled tiredly and you did a quick scan of his body. No cast on either of his appendages.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” you rushed out standing next to him.

“Tore my MCL,” he sighed taking your hand, “Gonna need a brace and rest up for about 2-4 weeks.”

“Do you need surgery?”

“They don’t think so. Heat, ice, and elevation should fix on its own. Will you be my nurse?” he asked jokingly but you took it to heart.

And now here he sits watching you pull an assortment of food, beverages, blankets, candles, medication and other things he didn’t see because you went into the kitchen.

“Did you buy everything in Walgreens?” he grins.

“Huh?” you ask resting your hands on your hips. “I just bought the essentials. We’re gonna try and get you back on the ice in two weeks, mister. How’re you feeling? Any pain? When did you last ice or heat?”

“A few hours ago–”

“I’ll get the heating pad–”

“y/n–”

“Are you hungry? I picked up some soup from the deli but if you want something more hearty–”

“Princess!” he shouts until you stop talking and stare at him. He motions you over with his fingers. “C’mere.”

You shuffle towards him and he pulls you onto his lap, you freak out not wanting to hurt him but he hushes your qualms.

“Take a breath,” he laughs. “You’ve done enough already. All I want to do right now is cuddle you and watch a movie.”

And you did just that, you watched nearly every holiday movie you could find on any streaming service. Even the corny Hallmark ones that he insisted on watching.

One night when you were over after your own skating practice, you brought over some cookies you made for him to eat. You’d been spending the night (purely accident) pretty frequently because you always fell asleep watching movies with him. This time, you actually brought an overnight bag because you were going to watch all of the Santa Clause movies with Tim Allen.

“Can you make me hot chocolate?” he asks, rubbing at your arm. You were nestled on his chest under a big fluffy blanket.

“Just like how Judy made?” you smile since that’s the part of the movie you’re on.

“No, how you make it. With white chocolate chips and marshmallows.”

“Mm name all the reindeer and I will.”

“Oh shit,” he groans closing his eyes.

“It’s only nine!”

“Nine?! I thought there were eight?”

“Rudolph is the ninth reindeer, babe,” you laugh.

“Well there’s one,” he teases kissing your nose. “Uhh there’s Comet…Blizzard?”

“Blizzard? What kind of name is that?”

“I don’t know!”

“Blitzen, so that’s close. Go on.”

“Cupid?” he asks and you nod ticking off your fingers. “Prancer…”

He ended up singing through the song until he finally got all of the reindeer names correctly.

“Good boy, you get extra marshmallows.”

“How about some extra kisses?” He pulls you in for a kiss, his hand on your lower back securing you against him.

Before you could get too carried away, you pulled away to go make his hot chocolate. Calum had to adjust himself under the blanket, he got a little too excited from that kiss and it’s been killing him that he can’t go further. Not that you don’t want to, but because he isn’t fully healed yet.

When you return with his hot cocoa, you take turns sipping it as you finish the movie.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” he tells you, his fingers are playing with your hair.

“Anytime,” you kiss his cheek.

Taglist: @calumance  @in-superbloom @calpalirwin @karajaynetoday @wiiildflowerrr @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower​ @mymindwide​ @itjustkindahappenedreally @seanna313 @mulletcal @pandaxnienke @celestialams @in-a-world-of-fandoms @blairscott

[drunkenonmysofa]

BASS & BUBBLEGUM [POPSTAR!Y/N AU] - PART FOUR

++mobile masterlist +b&b masterpost

parts; (one) (two) (three) (four) (five) (six

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.”

[wastelandcth]

hai there my lil pumpkin 🥰

it me giving my tumblr break a break for you again bc i'm curious and i love any excuse to make you talk about your art 😋

so: B, F, K, M, X & Y for the asks <3

love you baby 😚

hi sweet girl 🥺 i'm glad i can be the cause of you coming back on here at random times 🥵 i love you more, dork.

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

Yes and no? A lot of the plots I write about are based on things I've seen happen to other people or they are just based off of something I experienced but then made more dramatic.

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

“Sir,” one of the aides at his said, clearing their throat as they looked up at Luke.

“What is it?” Luke asked, his attention still on the night sky.

“The ground troops have been met with some...resistance,” they sighed, their hands scrolling through the holotablet, “It seems like the residents have been stocking weapons and ambushed our troops.”

“Then we’ll have to show them the true power of the Order,” Luke mumbled

I just think it's neat and shows a different side of Luke that is never really written about! He's going to be evil and I love it. It's also the first thing I wrote for 5sos x star wars (no I will not shut up about this) so I'm proud of myself for actually starting this idea.

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

Once again, 5sos x star wars

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

I'm currently working on a certain Taylor Swift song fic and maybe also an Adele song fic so 👀

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

Calum Thomas Hood, he's on thin ice.

Y: A character you want to protect.

Calum Thomas Hood, I love him.

fanfic ask game

[taleofharrison]

Sei unica | Calum Hood

Summary: Calum meets reader who is Italian at a movie set.

Warnings: Italian dialogues from a song and google traductor.

Requested: Yes by an anon.

Word Count: 682 (short but gold)

A/N: This one was a journey first off I’m not Italian so I tried to keep it really neutral and added dialogues in Italian towards the end I also had something written around 400 words or something and then hated it when I had this idea which I thought was better anyways enjoy.

MASTERLIST HERE

You couldn’t contain your excitement as your plane landed in California you had booked the lead role for a movie in LA it was your first big project and the first you’d leave your country but at the same time you were nervous because this would be also be your first worldwide success if the movie did great.

The first days were a blur you met your costars and did table reading and you also met the guys from 5SOS since they would be a big part of the soundtrack of the and they would also be on a scene in the movie singing a brand new song written by them that would be used exclusively for the movie.

When you met them you didn’t feel as starstruck as you felt when you met your costars since you weren’t a big fan of the band and you thought that the fact that you weren’t a fan beforehand helped to get a more genuine friendship between the 5 of you blossom.

You always laughed at Ashton jokes, you hung out with Luke a lot, played videogames with Michael and Calum well…you felt closer to him for whatever reason and you weren’t complaining even Duke likes you.

“It’s weird” he said while the puppy licked your hand “he usually wants to bite all the strangers” to which you just laughed.

“Alright silence on set” the director spoke “this is the first day and last day of 5SOS on set, so we need to get this scene right”

“Am I getting a private 5SOS concert?” you teased the boys as thy got ready on the stage.

“Yeah maybe” Luke chuckled “And you will be getting tickets for our concerts from now on”

“Look forward to that” you smiled.

“Y/N go to your place” the director told you from his chair.

“Guess I have to go” you smirked “break a leg”

You left them to get to your place at the other side of the set.

“Ask her out mate” Michael told Calum “she’ll say yes anyways she already spends more time with you than us”

“Plus, you don’t know if she’s going back to Italy at the end of shooting this film” Ashton added.

“Alright” the director called again “Action in 5,4,3,2…”

The scene went smoothly you just had to repeat it a couple of times and it was called a wrap.

“Y/N wait!” Calum called, listening his friends’ advice. You stopped and turned to look at him”

“What’s up?” you asked.

“Would you-you like to go to the beach this Saturday?”

“Sure, I’d love it” you agreed “will the guys be there?”

“I was thinking-in a…uhm” he was struggling to get the word out

“Just the of us?” you said, “like a date?”

“YES! - I mean yes if that’s what you want”

“I want that” you smiled making him relax.

“I’ll pick you up at 4 then”

That Saturday Calum took you to a lovely cafeteria to get something to eat and then to the beach to enjoy the beautiful sunset while walking next to the sea.

“Will you go back to Italy after the movie is done?” he inquired worried about how much time he would get to be with you?”

“I haven’t quite decided it yet” you shrugged “maybe after the premiere”

“Can I tell you something then?” he asked.

“Sure, go ahead”

“Sei única, única sei” Calum began felling nervous “formi parte di me mi dia una possibilità”

“I-did you learn Italian just to tell me your feelings about me?” you asked surprised at what he said.

“Just those sentences” he admitted “I feel like this I’m in high school but this is not a stupid crush I really like you and I don’t know maybe we can try something while you’re here”

“Possiamo provarlo anche tu mi piaci molto” you told him.

“What did you just say?” he asked smiling, he loved when you spoke Italian.

“That I like you too” you breathlessly laughed, he smiled and leaned over to kiss you not losing the smile on his face.

[maluminspace]

This is all because of you! and you make me feel so small with Calum please.

A37 “This is all because of you!”

A22 “you make me feel so small”

You’d always promised yourself you’d never let anyone reduce you to this. Somehow, though, Calum fucking Hood had managed it.

No one had ever meant enough to you, before, that a simple jealous argument would cause you to try and drown your sorrows in a bottle of cheap vodka.

Calum had stormed out hours ago. He hadn’t called or text you since he’d sped off in his beloved sports car. You know he’s probably just crying to Michael or Ashton about what a nightmare you are but it infuriates you nonetheless.

The last swig of vodka you down burns your throat, making you wince but your pour another measure anyway. Some of the alcohol sloshes onto the coffee table as your aim becomes clumsy. It’s a clear sign that you shouldn’t drink anymore but you’re hoping it’ll help you pass out soon so you don’t have to sit here crying over Calum for the rest of the night.

Wanting your boyfriend to come home has barely resurfaced at the front of your mind when the sound of crunching gravel on driveway draws your attention. A few seconds later a car door slams and footsteps make their way towards your front door.

As much as part of you wants to jump on Calum and apologise while he wraps you in a tight hug, the rest of you kind of wishes you’d put the chain on the front door so he can’t get back in.

When your boyfriend slopes into the hallway closing the door behind him, he immediately turns towards you. Calum must have noticed that the lights were still on in the living area when he’d pulled into the driveway.

“Didn’t expect to see you back here tonight.” You slur, scoffing in an attempt to seem uncaring.

“Yeah?” He asks, looking far too tired to be mad anymore. “Well I didn’t fancy sleeping on Ashton’s sofa so...”

You let out a humourless laugh. “I knew you’d you go crying to your boyfriend about this.”

Calum shakes his head, toeing off his converse before padding across the living room towards you. His eyes linger for a moment on the half empty bottle sitting on the coffee table. When his usually soft brown eyes finally meet yours they betray the anger still simmering beneath the surface.

“Are you drunk?” He asks incredulously.

You shrug as you down the glass of vodka you’d poured just a few moments ago. It doesn’t sting your throat as much as the last time. “What do you care?”

Calum rolls his eyes, an angry blush rising in his cheeks. “Of course I fucking care!” He replies, the effort he’s using to keep his voice steady is painfully evident in his tone. “If I didn’t care I wouldn’t have come back in the first place.”

“Whatever...” you scoff, picking up the bottle again.

“Seriously?” Calum asks, the exhaustion written all over his face as well seeping into his voice. “Are you gonna just keep drinking until you throw up everywhere? Is that your plan?”

There’s still a part of you that wants to resolve this argument and just go to bed. It’s tiny voice is given strength by the pleading in Calum’s eyes as he watches you slosh more vodka into the glass in your hand and into your lap. “‘M not planing on the puking part...” you reply, trying to keep the fire of your anger alive over the desire to just apologise.

“Well that’s where your heading!” Calum insists, “and I’ll end up having to clean that mess up too, like everything else you fucking touch!”

You drain your glass and slam it down on the table along with the bottle. “I’ve never asked you to clean up my messes!” You retort, “I’m a fucking adult, capable of sorting out my own shit!”

Calum rolls his eyes impatiently. “Yeah, it looks like it.” He snaps back, gesturing sarcastically at the items you’d just returned to the table. “You’re really acting like someone who has their fucking shit together, aren’t you? I leave for a few hours and come back to this...”

Your irritated boyfriend gestures a little too hard and knocks the half empty bottle of alcohol onto the floor. It smashes into several pieces, its contents seeping over the wooden flooring.

“Well done, Calum!” You snap, “you’re such a fucking idiot.”

Instead of sniping back at you as you expect, Calum simply leaves the room. He returns a moment later with with a roll of paper towels and a bin bag. Without so much as a glance in your direction, he drops to his knees next to the puddle of vodka and broken glass.

Your drunken brain finds it hard to comprehend why Calum’s suddenly gone all quiet. For some reason it makes you angrier as you drop down next to him. “Don’t ignore me, Calum!” You command, keeping your bleary eyes on him as he carefully wraps the broken glass on a few layers of the paper towels. “You’ve already done that enough, tonight!”

You can tell that Calum is annoyed by your words but he continues to concentrate on wrapping up the dangerous shards of the broken bottle.

“Do I really mean that fucking little to you?” You demand, your tone of voice betraying just how disgruntled you are by Calum’s lack of communication.

Your words seem to strike a nerve with your boyfriend as he snaps his face towards you, his brown eyes filled with the sad sort of anger that would usually break your heart.

Unable to tear your gaze away from Calum’s, you’re fully expecting a barrage of vexed words but all that escapes him is a pained yelp.

You glance down to see a trickle of blood running down from the pad of one of his fingers. For a split second you forget your anger, feeling only concern for the love of your life. You instinctively reach out to him but he immediately shies away. “Leave me alone.” He mutters, struggling to his feet. “This is all because of you!”

And just like that your anger is back. You watch through narrowed eyes as Calum strides off towards the kitchen.

It takes you much longer than it should to struggle to your feet. That’s probably unsurprising, given your inebriated state, but it’s still frustrating. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, stumbling after your boyfriend.

Calum doesn’t reply. He simply turns on the cold water tap and holds his bloody finger under it. The way he winces in pain kind of makes you want to hug him but your drunken brain reminds you that your still pretty angry with him. “Are you ever going to answer me?”

Your boyfriend finally turns to face you. There are tears brimming in his beautiful eyes, you’re not sure if they’re a result of his pain or frustration but either way it hurts to see him like this.

“I can’t do this with you now.” Calum concedes. “Please can we just talk in the morning?”

You shake your head, stepping a little closer to your boyfriend. “I didn’t wait up all night just to go bed without resolving it anyway.”

Calum scoffs impatiently. “Yeah getting shit-faced was a great way of showing me you want to work this out.”

Even in your drunken state, you know Calum has a point and you feel the shadow of something like embarrassment or shame. “Well I had to do something when you just ran out on me!”

Calum turns off the tap and steps over to the draw where you keep your little first aid kit. “I left because you hurt my feelings.” He confesses. “I know I’ve been distant lately, but you didn’t have to say the things you said.”

Sober you would have agreed with him in an instant. Perhaps you had actually been a little harsh earlier. Drunk you is still angry, though. “I don’t know what I’m meant to think, Calum!” You argue. “You’ve been sneaking around, acting shifty and nervous all the time...”

Calum grimaces again as he places a plaster over the cut on his finger. You’re not entirely sure it’s the tiny injury that causes the physical reaction, though. “I’m not cheating on you.” He sighs, exhausted and obviously just done with this whole argument. “I could never...”

The sincerity of Calum’s words almost seeps through your inebriated brain... Almost. “Then give me an explanation, Calum!” Bursts from your mouth as you sway on the spot.

“Not now.” Calum replies, his voice quiet. “Not when you’re drunk.” He insists. “Not when you make me feel so small, like this!”

Your boyfriend’s last sentence kind of hurts but you manage to stop yourself from uttering a venomous reply by literally biting your tongue between your back teeth.

Calum doesn’t say anything else as he returns the little first aid kit to its drawer before heading back into the living room.

You follow him, but only to the doorway. Your brain is slow to think of a reply other than ‘I’m sorry’ and you’re not quite ready for that yet.

As Calum cleans up the rest of the broken bottle and mops up the spilt vodka, you find yourself absently watching him. Just as you open your mouth to demand an answer, something falls out of the pocket of Calum’s leather jacket. The tiny item turns out to be a black velvet box. Initially you’re a bit confused. It’s only when Calum opens the little lid, that you realise there’s an engagement ring hidden inside.

Suddenly everything makes perfect sense, even in your alcohol soaked brain. Calum’s been distant and shifty lately because he’s been nervous to ask you marry him.

All of your anger and suspicion suddenly melt away, leaving a knot of guilt in its place. You want to run over to Calum and apologise for being so oblivious and tell him how stupid you feel for ever thinking he could be unfaithful.

Before you can do any of that, though, your boyfriend closes the box and shoves it back into his pocket. He wipes a tear from his face as he throws the last vodka-soaked paper towels into the bin bag and carries it outside.

As much as you want to tell Calum that you know the real reason why he’s been acting so strange, you know that he was completely right about now being entirely the wrong time to talk about ‘the truth’.

Instead of giving things away, you decide that you’ll act surprised when he finally asks you. He at least deserves that moment of knowing that he’s chosen the exact right way and moment to ask you.

In the mean time, you’ll stop being so paranoid and start making him feel like the amazing person he is. Starting with an apology as soon as he walks back into the house.

Masterlist

[pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles]

Wicked Game

Another round of the 5sos fic writing collab brought to you by @maluminspace​ and @h0tsos​. There are so many amazing writers involved and I highly recommend checking out the event master list linked below. Thank you to the Sagittarius sorceress  @sexgodashton​ for being very caring, patient, and kind while helping me tame this monster.  Massive shout out to @ghostofmashton​ for the photo edits, especially Ashton’s eye. that’s my favorite. You’re a rock star. Texas girls forever, love you to bits!

Event Master List

Prompt: Chef AU with Cashton

Dialogue Prompt: “Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met” First person to spot it in the fic and send me a screenshot gets a personalized blurb request.

Word Count: 20K+ Team Long Winded Bitch strikes again, this will be posted in multiple parts over the next couple of days. This first part is about 5K

Rating: 18+ Slash fic Strong language, alcohol and drug use, and a misogynistic and racist comment. Sexual scenes including masturbation, toys, voyeurism, oral, and anal sex.

Summary: Ashton is ready to move on with his life after his painful divorce from Luke and the demise of the restaurant they’d built together. With the help of his protegee and sous chef Hima Singh, Ashton is ready to take on opening weekend of his new restaurant Anne-Marie’s. Calum is a reporter filling in on an assignment and is surprised when his past comes back to haunt him. Hima arranges an interview that takes an unexpected turn between the two men.

Part 1

"Great job, guys, we couldn't have had a better opening weekend. Thank you so much for making it happen," Ashton told the two staff members in the kitchen who'd closed as he unlocked the back door.

"No problem boss, glad to be here. We made money this weekend. See ya tomorrow," DeSean told him as he left.

Ashton locked the door behind them and walked out into the empty dining room, his steel-toed boots echoing heavily on the distressed blonde faux hardwood floors. He stopped to adjust a few tables, double-checking sightlines and looking over the layout of the tables. The upside-down chair legs cast long shadows in the soft pink neon glow. 

He looked up at the sign above the bar that read "Anne-Marie's." He smiled, not caring if anyone thought it was cheesy to name his restaurant after his mother.  His mom had always been his lucky star, and he couldn't have gotten through the last couple of years without her. 

"You look so serious,' a voice behind him startled him out of his thoughts.

"What the fuck Hima," Ashton yelped, clutching his chest dramatically. "I thought you were still in the kitchen." 

"The guys didn't leave me anything to do so I decided to change and have a drink with you before my brother gets here," she tossed her bag and chef's coat onto a stool grinning at Ashton. She hopped up to sit on the bar before swinging her legs around as she pushed off. Landing without a wobble she reached under the bar and grabbed a bottle of black label Bushmill's Irish Whiskey and two short glasses. 

"Straight for the good stuff, I like the way you think," Ashton smirked, taking a seat at the bar. 

"To simply mark the occasion, of course" she poured them each a shot before adding a splash of water.  She raised her glass, "Cheers to you, Boss, and to Anne-Marie's." 

They clinked glasses. "Couldn't have done it without you," he replied before taking a sip.

"Awwwwww thanks Ashtton, " she grinned at him. "Damn that's good, the whiskey makes me forgive the Irish for how dreadful Guinness is. Did you see Kevin Mackie snuck in last night? I expect a write up in the Metro on Tuesday and I know you saw Patricia Bennett," she rolled her eyes at the name.

"She makes herself hard to miss," he snorted. "I missed Mackie though. Why didn't you tell me?" 

"Because we were busy and I didn't have time for you to get all giggly and nervous. He got the crab puffs and the Mac and Brie and inhaled them. You were right about the nutmeg; I thought he was going to lick the plate."  She opened two bottles of beer before hopping back over the bar and taking a seat next to Ashton. 

"How did this weekend compare to the opening of ‘Lune Rouge’? Was it as good as the first time?" Hima finished her whiskey before shaking a pack of Camel Crush cigarettes out of her bag. 

"If you get ashes on the bar Paloma will flip her shit," Ashton warned. 

"I'm not afraid of her," Hima snipped, but she made sure to be careful. No sense in antagonizing their temperamental main bartender. 

"This opening was definitely smoother than the first one. We didn't know what the hell we were doing. The first night we ran out of duck fat and gorgonzola before the dinner rush was over. My sous chef's sister had to run to Whole Foods for emergency supplies. We got lucky the press ignored us for a couple weeks until we got a little buzz going. This time I knew what to expect but there was also more pressure," he paused, taking a pull on the bottle of beer. "This time I  expected to succeed right out of the gate." 

"You succeeded there," Hima stubbed her cigarette out in her empty glass. "I really need to quit." 

"You could get a puff bar and start vaping," he teased.

"I'm not a fucking junior varsity cheerleader. I can take my cancer like a big girl." She checked her phone. "Ugh it's almost nine, and it's gonna take me at least thirty minutes to get home. You're closing tomorrow with me right?" 

"Yeah, I'll be in around 11 all this week. Rafi is handling brunch with Gloria but I want to be here," Ashton double-checked his phone. "Tuesday I have that interview with Men's Life and they just emailed me." 

Hima saw his nose scrunch up as he read.  "What's wrong?" 

"I thought they were sending Taj, but instead of rescheduling the interview, they're sending Calum Hood," Ashton sneered. 

"Chill dude, it's not that bad," Hima was confused by the venom in his voice. "Yeah he's a bit of a goof, but he's hot and not a pretentious dickhead. They could've sent Felipe." 

"True, true," he grumbled as he saw a black Honda pull up outside. "Kabir is here." 

"Shit, ok see you tomorrow, Boss," she grabbed her stuff, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and ran out the door, locking it behind her. 

Ashton walked through once again. He made sure the lights were off in the employee lounge. Since many of his staff members used public transport or worked two jobs, Rafi had convinced Ashton to provide his staff with a decent place to take a break and get ready before or after work.  He built a small shower stall, lockers, and provided clean towels, and as his new kitchen manager, Rafi took responsibility for maintaining the space. Ashton took a last look at the bar, double-checking for any stray ashes Hima might have missed before setting the alarm, locking up, and heading home. 

Calum opened the email from his editor and swore loud enough to wake the scruffy brown terrier mix snoozing at his feet.

Hey Cal,

Sorry it's such short notice but Taj's mom had an emergency and I need you to cover for him. He's interviewing Ashton Irwin, remember him? He had the Lune Rouge a few years ago. Well, he's got a new place, diverse staff and we're doing a feature. Maybe even the cover if he's really pretty. Tuesday at 2 pm I'll send you the address and details after I talk to Taj. Oh, and my friend Nick is coming into town and I told him you'd show him around. It's been a while since you had a date but you'll like him. He's kinda short, but he's got big muscles, huge dick, perfect credit. You could do a lot worse.

Call me tomorrow

Sham

This isn't good, this isn't good. Calum's mind was racing. He rubbed his temples trying to think. Taj was notoriously reliable and responsible, so if he was taking off on short notice, it must be serious. It was just his bad luck it was Ashton Irwin. 

He usually covered travel and sports for Men's Life while Taj handled food and fashion. Calum didn't mind taking back food and dining for the time being. He'd started in that industry, working as a line cook while he went to school for journalism. He'd quit both when a flirty, older professor recommended him for an internship at California Culture and he managed to land a real job. Professor Davis had been highly disappointed to lose him as a student and catch him making out with her son who went to the same college. He'd found a tiny shitty apartment, spent his life on the road for work, and sent every penny he didn't need to live on to his family. He didn't even date for the longest time until he met a handsome blonde with sharp features and a sharper tongue.

He couldn't remember if it was four years ago or five, but he clearly recalled his review of Lune Rouge had not been nice. Calum was in a toxic relationship with the restaurant's sous chef at the time. He'd let his personal life spill over into his work for the first and only time. It wasn't something Calum was proud of and while he felt he owed Ashton an apology, the right time and place hadn't presented itself yet. He'd run into Ashton twice since then. The first time he was with his husband, and Calum wasn't about to humble himself in front of Luke. The second encounter came not long after their marriage broke up. Calum was dating a photographer at the time, when Ashton came to the photographer’s art show. They were briefly introduced but Ashton's chilly demeanor discouraged any further conversation, so Calum avoided him the rest of the evening. He remembered being unable to stop staring at the handsome chef with the sad eyes. He'd always hoped they'd bump into each other under better circumstances. I guess an interview will have to do.

********

Ashton sat out on his condo balcony overlooking Echo Park, taking in the night air and enjoying a second bottle of IPA. Hima was right, the opening had been a smash. Anne-Marie's had the best staff he'd ever had the pleasure of working with, and aside from a small mix up between gruyere and Havarti cheese, the opening had been smooth. The alcohol hummed in his veins as he allowed his mind to wander back five years. 

Lune Rouge's opening had been a chaotic mess of brilliance, balls, and blind luck. He was a year out of culinary school, newly married, and ecstatically in love with his husband. Luke was a trust fund baby; his dad ran a major studio. He put up the funding for their restaurant which procured a prime spot in trendy West Hollywood. Ashton had the idea of taking traditional French cuisine and turning it into "pub grub." Luke created a kitschy tacky cool interior with the ambiance of fairy light curtains, vintage 90's movie posters, an eye-popping pink and aqua come scheme.  Featuring a bartender who doubled as a DJ, the restaurant became an immediate hot spot.  

 The culinary press treated them like rock stars and it went to their head.  Ashton was portrayed as the mysterious boy genius, boisterous and foul-mouthed, he ran the back of the house, oversaw the business and created the menu. Luke, who's blonde-haired blue-eyed good looks were regularly described as "angelic", was the frontman, often schmoozing in the dining room, taking song requests, or slinging drinks behind the bar. They worked so well together until they didn't. 

Ashton shook his head, not allowing himself to linger on negative thoughts, not when he'd fought to regain balance. He'd spent the last year freeing himself from the wreckage of his partnership with Luke. Still, tonight after the opening, alone and overlooking the city lights, his mind kept going back to the exhilaration of that first opening night. After they stayed late with the crew for a drink to celebrate, Luke's hand wandered up Ashton's thigh causing him to almost choke on his tequila. Soon Luke started whining about all the paperwork he had to do before they could go home. The crew quickly bagged it out of there, not wanting to get roped into more work. 

Ashton swallowed at the memory before glancing around at the other balconies. It was late enough most of his neighbors should be asleep. Already hard, he reached down and squeezed his bulge through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. 

After letting everyone else out of Lune Rouge that first night he'd been puzzled to find Luke no longer at the bar. He heard noises coming from the office. When he opened the door, he found his husband, shirtless, and waiting for him. 

Ashton slid his hand into his pants swiping his thumb across the leaking tip. He heard a sliding glass door open and froze in place until he realized it was his neighbor below him chatting on the phone. He stroked himself and let his mind wander back to Luke. It had been too long since Ashton got laid, and Luke was still the best sex he'd ever had. He shuddered and bit his lip thinking about the way Luke grinned at him as he opened the office door. Before Ashton could say a word, Luke was sinking to his knees. A bit awkward given his long legs, but it didn't take long before he was letting Ashton fuck his throat. The thought of those blue eyes looking up at him as Ash's hands tangled in those blonde curls caused a moan to slip out, and his neighbor stopped talking at the sound. 

"I think somebody is having sex," he heard her whisper. He almost laughed. 

His dick was twitching flat against his stomach as he ducked back inside his bedroom, kicked off his pants, and grabbed a small tube of lube. Ashton shut off the light and stepped back outside. 

The breeze cooled his fevered skin as he stood there looking out at the city and stroking his dick. The idea that he could possibly be seen turned him on almost as much as his trip down memory lane.  He swallowed another moan thinking about how Luke's lips felt against his, their tongues tangled until he pulled back looking at Ashton with mischief and love before giving him a wink and turning around. 

Ashton's breath caught in his throat as he worked his cock thinking about it. The red and white striped pants his husband pranced around in that night had been blissful torment working him up until the moment he slid those pants down and bent over the desk.

"Come take what's yours, my love, I've been wanting you all night," he cooed, wiggling his hips. 

Luke was a whiny boy when he was getting pounded, and the memory sent Ashton closer to the edge. He felt his knees tremble as he increased his speed, the city lights becoming starbursts in his vision as he edged himself closer. At the moment of release, he swore he could feel Luke pushing back against him taking him in as deep as he could go. 

When Ashton opened his eyes, he found himself sweaty and streaked with his own seed. He was amazed he'd managed to stay quiet, but his neighbor was chatting away obliviously. He went back inside, cracked another beer, and took it with him into the shower, trying to focus on his day tomorrow.

 It was after midnight by the time he went to bed. His body was exhausted but the adrenaline from the opening weekend hadn't quite worn off. He found himself still restless and playing on his phone. After scrolling through Instagram, he found himself looking at the page belonging to the Galway Grill-- Ashton cringed at the name-- an Irish pub and microbrewery very recently opened by Luke and his boyfriend Finn. 

Ashton simmered with resentment perusing the menu; they'd recycled at least half of the Lune Rouge recipes, his creations. He'd heard they'd rushed their opening to launch the week before Anne-Marie's, and even with Daddy's deep pockets the decor looked slapped together, all flash no class. He came to a picture of the happy couple and couldn't help but notice how thin and tired Luke looked despite his huge smile. He felt a twinge of concern for his ex before pushing his phone away in disgust. Rolling out of bed, he headed to the bathroom and fished an orange prescription bottle out of the cabinet. He broke a valium in half and swallowed the smaller piece with a gulp of water straight from the faucet. He scrolled through different sounds on his phone before settling on crashing waves. He spent the next ten minutes stretching and practicing deep breathing to push out any lingering negativity and troubling thoughts. It was too late to drag up the past and there was nothing to be gained. Ashton crawled back under the duvet and sank into a deep sleep dreaming of blue eyes.

*********

Hima rolled into work a little after one, pleased to see a decent lunch crowd and multiple delivery orders going out. She ordered a chicken mojito wrap for her lunch and headed back to the office to find Ashton. She found him in his chair with his laptop open on his desk, a notebook in his lap while scrolling through his phone. 

"So what's the Monday morning report, Boss?" She asked, taking a seat across from him. 

Ashton was beaming as he spun the laptop around to show her. "We made 30% over our projected sales. We came in right at payroll, actually a little under if you can believe that." 

"I've checked the reservation book," she responded, flashing her phone. "We're booked solid for dinner Friday and Saturday and will call is 3 pm-7 pm. We're probably going to have to do that all week." 

"Whatever you need. This weekend is going to be bonkers. If you have any suggestions, I'd like to do something for the staff. That reminds me, I've got to talk to Maisie." He scribbled down a quick note.

"She's already on it," Hima laughed. "The servers who struggled are coming in for extra training with her and Dakota. I have no doubt she'll straighten them up or ship them out."  

Ashton nodded as Daniel knocked on the office door to bring their lunch. 

"How's it going out there? Let us know if you need anything," Ashton told him.

"We've got this, Boss, enjoy your lunch," Daniel closed the door behind him.

"He's Rafi's brother?" Hima asked before taking a big bite. 

"Cousin, Gloria is his sister," Ashton replied tucking into his roasted corn and quinoa salad with queso fresco. 

"Are you ready for this interview tomorrow? You look tired," Hima looked concerned. 

"I am tired," he shrugged. "I just wanna get this over with. I'm thrilled we're doing so well, but that's not what the press wants to talk about." 

"Don't think about it like that. Anne-Marie's will stand on her own. You've just gotta get through this week. I know it's a lot," her words were half-muffled by a napkin.

"Tomorrow is the worst of it. Mackie called and is available Tuesday at one or Thursday for dinner around four. Since he's already been here for dinner, I thought I'd let Rafi wow him this time," he told her.

"Good idea, try to keep it short because if he drinks he gets super chatty. He gave a lecture at school and came to the bar afterward; he would not shut up," she warned.

"Chatty bastard, got it," he replied and they both laughed. 

Anne-Marie's was his restaurant, but he couldn't have done it without Hima.  She was fresh out of culinary school working as a line cook at the Hilton when he'd discovered her a little over a year ago. Ashton only lasted four months before chafing under the corporate yoke and deciding to strike out on his own. She'd been the first person he'd hired for the restaurant, guaranteeing her first year's salary out of his own pocket. Rafi and DeSean were excellent managers for the kitchen, but Hima was a coach: she understood the business as a whole. He'd let her handle most of the press and promotion, and she'd scored two big interviews.

Gourmet Table had interviewed him last Thursday The piece wouldn't be that in-depth, but they'd spent three hours photographing food. He expected the Men's Life article to focus more on him and his personal life. Calum Hood was known for his sharp pen and take-no-prisoners style.  He'd given Lune Rouge two stars and a biting review during a brief stint at California Culture before he'd become known. It was five years ago, but Ashton still had the clipping somewhere. Calum had branded Lune's food as tasty and imaginative but thought the presentation was lacking in creativity. He'd ripped into the decor, calling it "somewhere between art house and frat house," and labeled Luke and Ashton "spoiled pretty boys pretending to be chefs." Luke had brushed it off with a laugh, but it still bothered Ashton. 

Unlike the Hemmings’, Ashton’s family didn't have money to throw around. He'd started at sixteen, washing dishes and peeling vegetables for Chef François at Bordeaux on Hollywood. He'd taken culinary classes after high school while working full time. Sadly, Chef François had a heart attack and retired around the time he met Luke. 

"You're not listening again," Hima complained, licking her fingers. "Rafi killed it with this wrap. The chicken is amazing, but the cucumber-mint salad and the tamarind chili mayo are next fucking level." 

"You're right, I'm not. Sorry about that," he pushed his plate aside.

"Ok, what's got you so rattled? You've handled the press like a champ up until now. Is it Mackie or Hood? Who needs to catch these hands?" Hima stood and assumed a fighter's stance, bouncing on her toes. 

"Easy there killer, I can defend my own honor. Mackie is an irritating little mosquito. He just wants gossip, but he's got enough readers so we all have to kiss his ass. Hood gave me one of the few bad reviews we got at Lune, and it stuck. He called us frat boys and said we were trying too hard," Ashton rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed by saying it out loud. 

Hima raised her eyebrows and smirked, "I love it when you're petty. You're always so perfect and Zen, it's annoying." 

"My therapist would disagree. Oh shit, that reminds me," he straightened up in his chair and grabbed his phone. "I've got an appointment at 2:30. I'll be back before 4," he dropped his eyes to the floor. 

"Ashton," her voice was soft but commanding, and he looked up. "I don't know what's going on, and if you don't want to tell me that's fine. I want you to take care of yourself, whatever that takes. Ok?" He nodded and she smiled, "You can tell Dr. Claire that I've confirmed her for 8 pm Saturday, and you're going to personally cook her dinner. We've got the 50th anniversary that night so maybe you could flex and make your Pavlova's? I'll get the berries myself." 

"It's a deal; we can comp them champagne, too. I'd better get going before I get yelled at. She's a stickler for punctuality, I think it's a British thing."  

"I'll hold things down until you get back," Hima gathered up the dishes and headed out with Ashton right behind her. 

*********

Ashton drew a deep breath and exhaled through his nose as the reporter settled in the chair across from him.  Kevin Mackie's column in L.A. Metro was the definitive opinion for restaurants on the West Coast. His readers loved the snarky tone, celeb sightings, and bitchy gossip that peppered his column. His reviews could make or break new restaurants. 

"Let me start off by saying I love the decor of this place. It's rustic, but not in that played out, hipster-in-the-woods nonsense," he leaned in and lowered his voice towards the end of the comment with a coy smirk. 

"You'll find no Mason jars here," Ashton replied, taking the bait. Kevin liked people who liked him, and his most recent column was a snarky takedown of "Pinterest style interiors." Ashton found the article tedious and uninspired, but there was no need to be antagonistic right out of the gate. 

Ashton watched as the reporter ordered his lunch from their server Zia. He guessed Kevin to be in his forties, and he thought he could see fresh hair plugs, bleached blonde, and a bit of Botox. Rumor had it, he'd recently split with his long-time girlfriend over a fling with a much younger waiter. Ashton tried not to pay attention to industry gossip. However, his personal problems made their way into the column more than once, and he couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit of satisfaction at the other man's problems. 

After they'd both ordered, Kevin sat back and took a sip of his Pellegrino water and smacked his lips. "I was here the other night and I have to admit I was prepared to be underwhelmed. A menu based on sandwiches and comfort food sounded like an upscale Applebee's, but I really liked it despite myself. I was surprised to see your main girl was on the mature side, but she's efficient as hell so I get the trade-off." 

Ashton's body tensed at the insult to Maisie, and he took a deep breath. Exhaling through his nose he forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Kevin was prattling on with some bit of gossip as Ashton sipped on his iced coffee. 

"So let's start with something simple and ease our way into the rough stuff," Kevin set his voice recorder on the table between them. "Tell me how you formulated your top-secret house coffee blend." 

Ashton broke into a wide grin as he described taking two months to travel and sample different beans, learn more about the roasting and blending process. Kevin sipped his coffee and nodded as if deep in thought, but his eyes kept wandering to Ashton's biceps. He'd been baking this morning so he smelled of cinnamon, his black t-shirt damp and clingy from sweating under his chef coat.

"So we sell the house blend all year, but we have single-source coffee that's seasonal, all of it fair trade," Ashton finished proudly. 

"Coffee has always been your thing if I remember correctly," Kevin said.

"True, true, and once I started roasting my own beans it became a true obsession." 

Kevin followed it up with a couple more softball questions about menu details and sandwiches. Ashton expounded on his love of food. "Cooking for someone is a simple way to show care, to be enjoyed almost as much as dining should be. Food is caring and comfort; it sustains us. It brings people together in a shared experience."

 "Ooh that's a nice pull quote," Mackie chuckled. "I love when y'all have media training. It makes the bullshit flow much smoother.

Ashton seethed but said nothing. He'd watched this man's pettiness wreck a good opening, and Ashton couldn't do that to his crew. Zia brought their lunch. Ashton noticed Kevin had also ordered the chicken mojito wrap. 

"This looks delicious. I think it's a nice touch that you've got so much, let's say diversity, in your restaurant. That you're actually letting them make their own food makes your menu more interesting. Not all restaurants get it. Please tell me you've seen how horribly Finn ripped you off for that tacky Irish pub," Kevin glanced up at him a tiny smirk playing on

"I haven't paid any attention to that," Ashton wanted to end the interview right there. 

"Oh come on, you've had to see how much he's trying to recreate the magic you and Luke once had. The menu is tired, I don't give a fuck if he is Irish. Finn has no imagination yet fancies himself an impresario. Luke's still got it though. He even asked when I was coming here. I didn't tell him of course, I'm a professional after all." 

"Of course," Ashton nodded checking out of the conversation. The reporter talked as he ate which given the wrap he was eating proved especially messy and little flecks of food kept flying his way. Ashton watched the door, nodding at customers, silently willing someone to come and save him. Kevin was still talking about himself when Hima and Zia came out of the kitchen. Ashton tried to catch their eye when he felt a hand on his arm. 

"I wanna ask you about that one," Kevin leaned in so he could almost whisper.

"Who? Hima? What about her?" Ashton was pretty sure he wasn't going to like the answer. 

"What's the deal? I've only ever seen you with Luke. Did your palette change that much? India must've been a real spiritual awakening for you huh?" Kevin winked at him, thinking he was clever. 

Ashton controlled his breathing trying to keep his temper in check. He looked over at the reporter who kept talking oblivious to the situation. 

"Who doesn't like trying something exotic. She seems like a smart cookie. She's darker than most Indian girls you see, like a rich brown butter sauce. I bet she tastes like tumeric though." 

"Get out of my restaurant" Ashton hissed, his hands gripping the table to restrain himself from physical violence. "You are not going to insult my staff, my friends, in their restaurant." 

Kevin started to speak but Ashton cut him off.

"Not another fucking word" he kept his voice at a low growl so as not to cause a scene. He noticed a couple of the closest tables were already watching them. "You've said enough and I'm barely holding back as it is. Get out of my restaurant, don't ever come back, don't ever speak to me again, and if you trash me in this review I promise you I will find you and fuck you up personally." Ashton stood up and Kevin flinched, the sight would have made him laugh if he hadn't been so furious. He stepped back and the reporter scrambled out of his seat leaving his lunch unfinished. Ashton walked back into the kitchen, Hima fast on his heels. He kicked the door open to the break room and headed for the speed bag hanging in the corner. He'd learned the hard way punching walls usually resulted in the wall winning the fight so he'd given himself something easier on his hands. 

Hima watched him from the door, his back and biceps rippling as he went two minutes at full speed. When he finally turned around she could see the anger had cooled somewhat. She hated that her boss looked incredibly sexy when he was angry. 

"Are you gonna tell me what happened?" She asked when he turned back around. 

"Nope, it'll just piss me off all over again, and I gotta get ready for another fucking interview. With a guy who already doesn't like me," Ashton put this coat back on and headed into the line to check on Rafi. 

At least the second interview can't be worse, she thought, wishing she believed it. 

*********

Calum eased his beat up Range Rover into the parking lot of Anne-Marie's amongst the Mercedes, Audi's, and Teslas. He cursed the traffic when he checked the time. He was late, and they were busy. Not a good look he thought, grabbing his bag. 

He smiled at the ladies waiting for a table before introducing himself to the impossibly serene hostess. He was quickly led to a table in an alcove not far from the kitchen. As he pulled out his voice recorder and notebook, he noticed a young woman heading his way. Her black hair was knotted tightly in a bun on top of her head, and her chef's coat had a large streak of what might be hollandaise sauce. He remembered his editor, Jacqueline, telling him Anne-Marie's had a female sous chef. He checked the notes she'd given him quickly as she was stopped by a server. Hima, Culinary Institute of America graduate, 23, Indian maybe? 

"Hello I'm Hima Singh, you must be Calum Hood," she greeted him. From up close, he noticed that her eyes were a rich golden brown and that her smile didn't reach her eyes. He chalked it up to her youth; his editor said she was 23 but she looked like a teenager. He mentally stopped himself there. He'd become jaded by one too many husband/wife teams in recent years trying to rebrand a post-divorce startup as a "new adventure." While the divorce was true, Calum knew Ashton's history.

"Yup that's me, it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hima," he shook her hand, relieved to see her relax a bit. 

"Chef Irwin will be out shortly. He's helping with a problem in the back" she glanced towards the kitchen, and Calum had a feeling she was lying.

"Can I get you something while you wait? Do you like coffee? We have a house blend cold brew Chef Irwin selected himself that we roast and grind on-site," she asked motioning towards the sign listing the daily selection of teas and coffee. 

"Thanks, but maybe not coffee. I'm nervous enough without more caffeine," he admitted, "but the lavender and blackberry infused lemonade sounds amazing." He smiled and her face softened. 

"Absolutely," she signaled to Zia who brought Calum his drink and a basket of warm, fluffy yeast rolls with Anne Marie's cinnamon honey butter. The smell reminded Calum he'd skipped breakfast as his stomach began to rumble. 

"So you're Chef Irwin's sous chef? I heard a rumor you were a partner as well," he asked, almost drooling as he tore into the soft bread, watching the steam escape. 

"Yes sir," Hima's smile finally reached her eyes, and she sat down across from him. "When he got his core team together for Anne Marie's, there's three of us total. Desean and Rafi are his kitchen managers, and he gave us the opportunity to buy in as minority investors, no pun intended." 

"These rolls are incredible. Please take one before I finish this whole basket and ruin my lunch. How long have the three of you worked for Ashton, excuse me, Chef Irwin?" He asked.

"Desean and Rafi were part of his Lune Rouge crew. They go way back, but he met me fresh out of school and took me under his wing," she told him.

"Did you go to CIA?" Calum was jotting down notes, getting a feel for the story.

"I wish, it's so pretty up there. My twin brother attended Brown, and I went to Johnson and Wales so we could stay close." 

"You're a twin? Is he a chef as well?" Calum asked.

"Are you kidding? He's a lawyer, of course, my parents had to have one in the family," Hima laughed. 

Zia appeared beside their table. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but Rafi is looking for you, Hima." 

A worried frown replaced her warm smile and Calum felt his nerves bubbling back up. He glanced around and caught sight of Ashton, flushed and sweaty from the heat of the kitchen, poking his head around the corner. Their eyes met, and Calum felt like he'd been hit by lightning.  

Hima saw his reaction and whipped around to see what Calum was looking at. Spotting her boss she quickly excused herself and hurried to the back. 

Zia cleared her throat and Calum realized she was still standing next to his table.

"Would you like to try Rafi's plantain skewers while you wait? It's my favorite thing here, and it'll leave room for whatever these geniuses cook up," she asked with a smile and a wink. 

He nodded and she headed to the server station to put the order in. Calum looked around and started taking notes.  The most striking thing about the decor was how they'd used diffused skylights for soft lighting to accent the Nakashima-style crafted wooden furniture.  Thanks to his Mom’s love of Antiques Roadshow when he was younger Calum discovered his preference for natural grain wood and bespoke pieces. He liked the use of pastel neon signs to complement the muted green and blue tones of the mosaic tile floors and he thought the framed pictures of what he assumed were family photos of the staff provided a really nice personal touch. The largest photo was in the bar of Ashton and his mother, the restaurant's namesake, Anne Marie. 

Zia set a plate down in front of him. "The boss will be out in a minute., Let me get you some more tea," she told him. 

The skewers consisted of chunks of pineapple, plantain, red onion, and sweet potato grilled and dusted with chili powder and brown sugar served with a yogurt sauce for dipping. 

Calum was almost finished with the first one when Ashton came out of the back, making his way towards him. The chef stopped to talk to several customers, the hostess, and Zia before he made it to Calum's table. Cal licked his fingers, wiping his hands clean with a Sani-wipe before standing up and offering a handshake. 

Ashton took his hand and Calum wasn't expecting it to feel so soft. Caught off guard Calum stammered out an introduction as he sat, but he noticed Ashton just nodded, barely listening. 

"If today isn't a good day we can reschedule," Calum sipped his tea, his throat suddenly dry.

"I'm here aren't I?" Ashton snapped. He folded his arms across his chest, his hazel eyes narrowing at Calum. "I still remember your first review you know."

Calum's pulse was racing. He hated confrontation, and he hadn't expected Ashton to kick off right away. He knew he'd better suck it up and apologize if this wasn't going to go completely off the rails. 

"Listen, I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have been such a dickhead."  As he spoke Ashton scoffed at him and Calum felt his cheeks get warm.  "I was young and stupid. I let something personal affect that review. I'm sorry." 

"Personal? With Luke? What do you mean by that?" Ashton went from annoyed to hostile.

Calum realized he'd said something wrong but wasn't sure what exactly. He was floundering trying to think of what to say next. 

"Nothing with Luke, no no no. I was involved with Finn and we weren't getting along. It's so stupid I know, but I think you're a great chef. The new place looks incredible, and Hima is a delight." 

The anger drained from Ashton's face, leaving him looking empty and sad. His head dropped to his chest, and Calum held his breath waiting for him to speak. 

"I'm really sorry, it's not you, but I can't do this right now. Maybe we can reschedule or something. My apologies, but I have to get back to work," Ashton mumbled, standing up. 

Calum spotted Hima watching them from the podium, chewing on her lip, her black eyes wide with concern as Ashton hurried back to the kitchen. Calum started to get up but she was too quick for him. 

"Well, aren't you lucky. I'm going on my lunch and I hate to eat alone," she slid back into the seat across from him. "Please forgive my boss. He's had a rough day, but I'm better company anyway." She waved to Zia who headed their way. "You gotta try the toasted gnocchi with gorgonzola cream sauce if you like cheese, but if you want something lighter the apple carrot kale wrap is excellent too," she smiled at him, and to her relief he smiled back, both of them realizing the situation might be salvageable after all.

(A/N: y’all my tag list, much like my life, is a hot mess. I know some of what I write isn’t for everyone. If you want tagged in part 2 of this fic or my upcoming smuts, pink kink series, or dad!calum series please let me know. I apologize for my previous mistake)

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