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footballfanfictions · 3 years

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The thrill of the chase - Chapter Four

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Warnings: Smut (18+)

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Katie

“The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” Bri advised, her mouth stuffed full of salad.

I was beginning to regret confessing to her about my mixed feelings for Rory and his new engagement. Bri was a great friend but at times she took over a conversation and made it relatable to something she had experienced which was exactly what she had done. She had gone on and on about her break up with Liam for so long that I considered telling Billy not to bother asking her out because I was so unclear as to whether she was ready to move on or not.

“Have you been getting under anyone recently?” I enquired, hoping with everything in me that she would say no. I really wanted her and Billy to work out and make each other happy.

“Sadly no. My prince charming is out there somewhere.” she sighed.

“Closer than you might think.” I grinned.

“What?” she laughed, confused.

I shook my head and said nothing else before making an excuse to leave lunch.

I had arranged with Billy to go and help him with the set up of his plan by cutting my lunch short. By the time we had finished, Bri would be coming back to the kit room and I could distract her along the way.

By the time I got to the unused office that Billy had chosen, he had already finished. The room was full of bouquets of red roses. I had to pinch my nose between my fingers to prevent me from sneezing.

“That’s a shit ton of flowers Billy.” I laughed, patting him on the back “good job.”

“You think she will like this kind of stuff?” he asked, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. “She is a true romantic at heart, she’ll appreciate the effort.”

“I thought I saw you come in here-”

I turned to see Ben, standing in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest but a big grin on his face.

“We’re setting up Billy asking Bri out.” I explained.

“Mate you are making the rest of us look bad. I was going to ask Katie to come out with us lot later, now I feel like just asking that isn’t enough.” Ben looked between the two of us as he spoke.

It took me a couple of minutes to register what he was saying. He was going to ask me out. He had said ‘with us’ though which implied that it wasn’t going to be just the two of us, but maybe that was a good thing seeing as I felt awkward enough around Ben at the moment.

Billy started laughing beside me then said to Ben “I think the silence is your answer pal.”

Ben looked down at his shoes then back up at me.

“Hold your horses Billy. Ben hasn’t actually asked me anything-” I started to ask Ben what he meant but was cut off by the sound of Bri in the corridor just outside the door calling my name.

“Shit a brick it’s time.” I gave Billy one last reassuring squeeze on the arm before grabbing Ben and dragging him through the door by the hand.

“Hi Bri.” I greeted her.

She was startled and looked between me and Ben, our hands intertwined and the door to the office which she knew as well as I did that no one used anymore. She then smirked.

“Oh I see. You did have a lot of work to catch up on.”

I tried not to blush, conscious that my hand was still holding onto Ben’s but I didn’t really care what she thought we had been doing in there. All I cared about was that Billy got a fair chance.

So without setting her straight, I said “There’s something you need to see in there.”

Bri’s curiosity got the better of her after a minute of her giving me a very confused look. Once she had entered the office I quietly shut the door behind her and turned to Ben.

“What were you trying to ask me?”

He squeezed my hand with his as a slight blush crept onto his cheeks. “I don’t know if you want to but a lot of the lads are going out tonight and I just wondered if you wanted to join us. Most of them are bringing their girlfriends so you wouldn’t be the only girl there or anything. I thought it might be nice to spend time with each other with no pressure.”

“Yeah that sounds good.” I agreed.

With his free hand he pulled his phone out of his pocket and passed it to me, asking “Can I have your number so that we can arrange for me to pick you up?”

I nearly dropped the phone trying to unlock it with just one hand. It felt weird that a boy would hand a girl his phone and not at least have a passcode on it, but maybe he just had nothing to hide. I entered my number to his contacts, saving myself as just my first name. He grinned again as I passed the phone back to him.

“What are you smiling at?”

“You didn’t drop my hand to put your number in.” he said, squeezing the hand he held again gently before continuing “but I’ve got to get back to training in a minute.”

“You’re not waiting for Billy?”

He shook his head, explaining “I’m his alibi for being late, I’m going to have to tell the gaffer something, not sure what yet.”

“You’re a good friend Ben” I smiled, finally letting go of his hand.

“You are too Katie. Billy thinks a lot of you and you’ve really helped him.”

“He has helped me a lot too, more than he will ever realise.” I said softly, thinking about Billy deleting all of Rory’s social media profiles from my accounts.

“See you later.”

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I had been sat at my desk for 45 minutes, unable to concentrate on anything because I was desperate for Bri to come and talk to me. The radio silence was starting to concern me until my phone lit up where it sat upon my desk next to my computer monitor, only the text wasn’t from Bri.

Ben: Is 8 ok to pick you up? If you want to we could get some dinner together before we meet the others? Xx

I stared at the message for a minute, contemplating a reply. In 45 minutes he had had a change of heart and now wanted to spend some time alone together. Did I want that?

I sat there with my phone in hand for another few minutes mulling it over in my head before I decided that I should see Ben alone, to test whether we really had a spark or not and to be honest with him about what I knew.

Katie: 8 is fine and dinner would be lovely xx

I followed the message up with another, just giving Ben my address and began to fidget nervously in my seat. I hadn’t been on a date with anyone since my break up and had avoided anyone that had been even remotely interested. What do you even say to someone on the first date?

I was still wondering how I would talk to Ben alone at dinner when my office door swung open.

“Bloody hell you scared the shit out of me.” I explained.

My shock was worth it though, to see a beaming Bri in my doorway with one of the huge bouquets cradled in her arms.

“I just got asked out by a footballer!” she grinned.

“Yeah I know. Billy is amaz-”

“Liam would absolutely die if he knew this.” she squealed.

Before I could say anything else she had turned on her heels and left as quickly as she came.

My mind raced. She hadn’t even called Billy by his name. My gut instinct that she would use him was getting stronger and I felt sick. Billy was a really good guy and deserved better than that.

I put my head in my hands and massaged my temples. This situation just added to my anxiety and made me feel torn. I should really be loyal to Bri as my best friend but also call her out on her behaviour and pray that underneath it all she did actually have some feelings for Billy.

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Ben had picked me up at bang on 8pm. I had hoped he would be a couple of minutes late so that I could have a few minutes to try to settle my anxiety but no such luck.

He took my hand and led me out to his car, complimenting me on how I looked and holding the car door open for me.

We barely spoke during the short drive to the restaurant but surprisingly it was a comfortable silence.

When we were seated at the table, he reached across and took my hand, holding it on top of the table for anyone around us to see.

“Are you ok?” He asked.

“I’m so sorry Ben, I know I must seem like I’m not even in the room right now. I just have a lot on my mind.” I babbled, taking a big sip of water to calm myself down before I went ahead and blurted out everything that was bothering me and ruining the only date I’d had in over a year.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked soothingly, his thumb brushing over my fingers.

I nodded before starting to explain. “I don’t even know where to begin Ben. When Bri walked into my office earlier she looked like she was on top of the world and I thought it was because she liked Billy back but she didn’t even call him by his name, just said that a footballer had asked her out and how her ex would absolutely die if he found out. I’m just so worried that she will use him. Me and Billy have become really good friends and I don’t want to see him get hurt but-”

“You feel like your loyalty is divided?” he asked.

“I really do. I think I need to sit her down and have a serious conversation with her. Maybe if I explain how much thought and effort has gone into this…” I sighed.

“You really care about everyone around you don’t you?”

I just nodded, sighing deeply.

“There’s something that I need to tell you too, because you have also become someone that i care about.” I gave him full eye contact as I spoke, he looked back at me with curiosity and a little fear. “A few days ago I had to log into the social media account of one of the other players and I noticed that he was getting a lot of messages from a girl. One of them was about you and my curiosity got the better of me.”

He started to smile and it stopped me in my tracks.

“I’m sorry you have been dragged into all of this.Sam and I were together for a while about 2 years ago. It wasn’t very serious from my side of things but she wanted to settle down, get married and have kids and at the time I was only 21. I wasn’t settled in my career and didn’t feel ready for all of that.” he turned my hand over as he spoke and stroked the palm of my hand with his forefinger distractedly.

“So you broke up?” I asked, feeling stupid immediately, because of course they have broken up.

“She gave me an ultimatum. Either I settled down with her or she would find another famous footballer to leech from. That’s when she started things with Jorginho. He was still married then, but he is getting a divorce to be with her,”

“They think that you don’t know” I sighed, my mind boggling at the way Ben had been treated and how Jorginho treated his wife.

Ben laughed. “I know, they think they have been good at hiding it but he is my teammate after all and she is itching to make it public so that she can play up to the role of footballer’s wife.”

“I’m so sorry that they have done this to you.” I said genuinely meaning it. I guess I didn’t know Ben well enough to know what he had done in their relationship that might have led to Sam acting the way that she had, but surely nothing could warrant what she had done in revenge.

“I think he is coming tonight, but I didn’t want that to stop me from hanging out with the lads and getting to know the group better. He isn’t going to ruin my time at Chelsea. For the record, I am well over Sam too. I don’t want someone who only wants me because I’m a footballer.”

I was about to tell him that I wanted him and potentially make a massive fool of myself when the waitress came over to take my order. I pretended to look at the menu as if i hadn’t already looked on their website and chosen what I wanted to eat hours ago.

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We were all embarrassingly tipsy.

I had been sat with the girlfriends of some of the other new players for an hour but because the two of them were German and already knew each other I couldn’t do much but nod along with their conversation that they were kindly conducting in English to try to include me but was about how they were settling into London and struggling to find jobs with their German qualifications.

Ben and some of the other new players had been sat talking and laughing together. He seemed to be having a good time so I didn’t want to go over and pull him away. I didn’t want to come across as needy and I did enjoy looking over at him every so often and catching his eye.

Eventually one of them stood to go to the bar and the group of boys broke up with Ben coming over to the girls’ table and holding his hand out to me.

“Do you want to go for a dance?” he grinned, already half pulling me out of my seat.

I used to go to clubs when I was at university but it had been a long time since I graduated and they had never really been Rory’s thing so we hadn’t continued to go out once we graduated.

Bri had suggested we go clubbing together plenty of times but I had always resisted knowing that one of us would end up too drunk and in a bad situation as a result.

I let Ben lead me to the dance floor and put his arms around me. We were both a little too tipsy to keep to any sort of rhythm, we just kind of held onto each other and moved.

Realising how bad we probably looked to everyone else we started to laugh about it.

“I swear I can do better, I have just over done it on the beers.” he said, having to speak directly into my ear to be heard. His hot breath tickled, and I tried not to react.

I already had my arms around his neck, but slipped a hand up into his hair to pull his face back to mine so that I could say something back to him.

I was going to tell him that I thought his attempt at dancing was cute but I didn’t manage it, because as soon as I held onto him and his eyes met mine I knew that I wanted to kiss him.

I guided his face closer and our lips met, softly at first, but I was soon tasting his beer on his tongue. I got lost in him, forgetting where I was and who was around me. All I wanted was Ben.

After what felt like forever we broke apart for air and Ben put his face in the crook of my neck, I think to hide that he was blushing again.

“I’m going to go and get another drink, do you want one?” he asked, guiding me off of the dancefloor so that we could hear each other a little better away from the banging music.

“Um, yes please. Archers and lemonade.”

“Be right back. I’ll come and find you if you want to go back to the girls.” he said before leaving me to go to the bar.

I had completely forgotten about the two german girls I had been sat with and I was unsure if I could just go straight back to them but I didn’t have many other options without Ben by my side.

I walked back over to the tables that were occupied by our group but accidentally bumped into the side of someone while trying to squeeze through a gap in the crowd.

“Excuse you.” the girl spat, turning to me.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you.” I said apologetically, although unsure the girl deserved an apology for being so quick to be nasty about it.

She looked me up and down and said “What a state.” to the man standing beside her.

I was about to get defensive and angry when I realised that it was Mason beside her. Putting two and two together I realised that this was the not quite famous pop star girlfriend.

“Katie, your lipstick is a bit smudged.” he said, sounding pissed off.

I rubbed my thumb at the corner of my mouth.

“Well Katie, how good is it of my boyfriend to tell you what the issue is?” she asked rhetorically, emphasizing my name and the word ‘my’.

I wanted to tell her that I didn’t give a shit about her precious boyfriend but now that things were happening between me and Ben I didn’t want to embarrass him by being a bitch to his team mate and I did still have to have a working relationship with Mason.

“Whatever I’m bored of this. I’m going to dance.” the girl huffed, walking away.

Mason didn’t follow her.

He stared at me, his lips pursed.

“What is your problem?” I asked.

“I told you he was no good for you.”

“I don’t need relationship advice from you, thanks though.” that was the best that I could do without being rude and I had to remove myself from his presence before I did anything worse.

Walking a bit quicker I made it back to the girls’ table and apologised to them for leaving them earlier. They were really nice about it and told me not to worry and that they would probably go and dance with their partners in a bit if they ever stopped talking at the other table.

Relief swept over me when Ben came and joined us with our drinks. He had got a beer for himself, my archers and had bought a pitcher of some sort of bright blue cocktail for the girls to share which they were appreciative of.

“He is a good one no?” the brunette one said, Sophia I think her name was.

I laughed and agreed. Ben was one of the good ones, no matter what Mason thought. I trusted my judgement more than I trusted him.

I looked at Ben as he sat drinking from his beer bottle. Staring at his lips around it just made me want to kiss him again, away from the prying eyes of everyone else.

I drank my drink quickly which I knew I would probably come to regret later, then slid my chair closer to Ben’s so that I could whisper in his ear “Do you want to get out of here?”

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We walked hand in hand back to my flat from the club. My flat was a lot closer than Ben’s house in Surrey and there was no way either of us was driving or patient enough to get a taxi all that way.

I unlocked the door with shaking hands and pulled Ben inside, all the alcohol I had consumed suddenly making me very brave.

“I want you” I managed to say. I had been about to explain that I wanted him, and not because he was a footballer, but I just couldn’t get the words out.

He doesn’t waste a moment, lifting me off my feet and carrying me through to my bedroom. He sits on the edge of my bed and lowers me onto his lap, my thighs on either side of him. My head was higher than his and I gripped his hair in my fist as I kissed him deeply again.

His hands found my ass and pressed me down against him. I could feel how hard he was, straining through his jeans. He pushed my dress up and pulled it off over my head and before I could react his mouth was on my neck.

I shuddered at the sudden chill of being undressed, and the feeling of his tongue against my skin.

He pinches the clasp of my bra and it pings open, my breasts falling out before him. He smiles appreciatively before cupping one in his hand and leaning down to take the nipple of the other into his mouth.

I gasp at the contact and rock involuntarily in his grasp. My core, covered only by my knickers reacts in pleasure at the friction caused and I continue to move, taking my pleasure from him.

He releases my nipple from his mouth and cups my face instead, forcing me to look at him. “God, you are so beautiful”.

He lifts me and tears my knickers from my body, discarding what’s left of the lace garment on the floor as I pull his shirt up and off over his head and proceed to kiss and nip gently at his neck.

“I want you to ride me.” his tone is commanding but gentle, and I feel hot at the thought.

I reach down and unbutton the fly of his jeans, quickly ridding him of them and the boxers below. His cock springs free against my thigh and I hold back a moan at how thick it feels.

One of his hands found my hip, the other guides his cock to my core and I sink down to meet it.

Feeling full I take a moment to adjust and grip his shoulder to steady myself. The hand at my hip squeezes gently in encouragement and I start to move, knowing we’re both too desperate to go slow.

He leans back slightly and watches me, starting to thrust up. His resolve to not flip us over and take me wavering.

I reach one hand up to one of my breasts and start to massage it. Ben’s eyes dart to my hand and watch my every move as I start to roll my nipple between my fingers. He doesn’t know where to look when I move my other hand to my clit, beginning to rub it in circles. His grip on me tightens as I writhe towards my release. He must know that I’m close and how could he not from the moans he is eliciting from me.

I cry out his name as my body shudders to its release, my core clamping down on his cock. I continue to rock my hips through it and bury my face in his neck.

He gives me a few seconds to come down from my high before he lifts me from him and pushes me backwards onto the pillows. He leans over me and presses a kiss to my lips before burying himself back inside me. My legs automatically wrap around his waist and draw him closer. I need to feel him as deep as possible.

I feel his hand slip between our sweat slickened bodies and gasp as his thumb meets my now oversensitive clit.

I dig my nails into the soft flesh of his shoulder and he doesn’t react, his face is buried in my neck where I’m sure he’s marking me as he fucks me with deep powerful thrusts. I tighten my legs around him and hold him as close as possible, chasing another orgasm.

There’s no rhythm to our movements against each other anymore, just an animalistic need to come.

He tips me over the edge again first, and I muffle any sound that I make against his shoulder but he feels the familiar sensation of my walls clamping down on him and grunts appreciatively in acknowledgement. A few thrusts later I feel him spill into me.

He presses his mouth back to mine then and we kiss sloppily while he slips from inside me.

#ben chilwell #mason mount #football fanfictions #football fanfic

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doubletriplepowerbomb · 3 years

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Mr. Lonely part 2

Sheamus x fem reader

NON-WWE AU

Word count: +4500

Warnings: none… yet ;)

Tags: @jenn0755 @zappyzoodle @disturbthepearls @lost-in-the-stories @lithesxx @racingandreigns @rocketgirl2410 @vebner37 @therianfurry46 @littlelunaticfringe @finnbalorlover21-blog @winged-time-criminal @mrsnegan25 @xfirespritex @wefunloveruniverse @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

Read part 1 here

I woke up at 10 am, fully clothed with a fully clothed Sheamus sleeping soundly next to me. His back was facing me and I watched his body fall and rise slowly, entranced by the freckles that dusted the pale skin I could see.

What the hell did I do?! I kissed him and he spent the night in my bed! I scrubbed a hand over my face before realizing that there was no use trying to take all this in. Whatever, at least we didn’t have sex.

I decided to try to act as normal about this as I possibly could- I wasn’t attached, we never did anything. I got up out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom.

Sheamus awoke to a comfortable bed that was not his own. He rolled onto his back and caught a glimpse of me brushing my teeth in my bathroom.

Ah could get used to this. A satisfied smile graced his face as he laid on his back, his arms behind his head. She looked different than any other girl ah see in the morning. If ah’m being honest, ah don’t stay long enough to see much of ‘em after ah’ve seen all of them.

Here ah am, though, laying in my jeans in the bed of the girl ah used to like in high school. The girl who never picked up on my flirting, never realized that there was another reason ah wanted only her to edit my essays. The girl who always smelled like citrus. She smelled like citrus last night at the bar too. Maybe that's what fucked with my head.

Sheamus turned onto his side to catch a glimpse of the clock on his phone, 10:05 am. At this point, ah would have been long gone. A girl sometimes likes to stay so I usually never have a one night stand at my place. Ah have to stop comparing… this isn’t a one night stand. She’s different.

Sheamus turned onto his other side and watched me brush my teeth.

She’s wearin’ the clothes she wore last night, her jeans and tight black top.

Looks a lot like a one night stand.

“G’morning, y/n.” He spoke from the bed. It startled me slightly but I don’t think he noticed. I rinsed my mouth before walking back into the bedroom. I wasn’t wearing any makeup and my hair looked kinda messy. I felt comfortable, I didn’t feel the need to not show my face until I looked presentable.

For a second, it looked like she was mine.

She’s not yours, lad. Don’t get all screwed up now.

“Good morning, Sheamus.” You would think this would be super awkward, but it wasn’t. There was a comfortable silence as both of us searched for the right words to say but we both came up short. After I realized that we weren’t gonna say much, I turned to my closet and slipped off my black shirt, revealing the black bra underneath.

“Is someone ready to sleep with me now?” Sheamus teased, sitting up in the bed. I didn’t have anything witty to say so I simply unclasped my bra and let it fall down my arms. His breath hitched as his eyes raked over my figure. I’m sure he was praying for me to turn around, but I didn’t. I grabbed a crew neck sweatshirt from the closet and slipped it over my head.

Sheamus couldn’t help the disappointment that filled him as he watched me slip the large sweatshirt over my figure.

“Do you want some breakfast?” I asked before taking off my jeans and slipping on pink pajama pants. Sheamus looked shocked and I explained myself. “I’m sure you don’t usually stay for breakfast but you’re still here and I’m hungry.”

Sheamus smiled before climbing out of bed. I wanted to act smug but I couldn’t, I was too busy staring at him as he got out of the bed and stood before me. His arms were muscular and defined and I could see his abs through the thin white fabric he was wearing-- butterflies shot to my stomach and I felt heat between my legs. Oh my fucking god, I gotta get out of here. I walked out of the room before he could see my face get red.

Sheamus emerged from my room a couple minutes later, he was holding his shirt and placing things back in the pocket. A travel sized toothbrush and deodorant. “You’re kidding. You bring travel-sized toiletries to your hookups?”

Sheamus looked at me with a weird expression. “Yeah, I also always have an extra condom, some people like mornin’ sex.” He said it so simply and he stared at me like I was the crazy one. “Ah’m like a boy scout, y/n, always prepared.” I laughed at him before handing him a paper plate with an egg sandwich on it.

“I hope you like sunny side up, I forgot to ask.” I told him, while carrying my plate to the small wooden table in my apartment.

“Don’t worry, ah like everythin’.” Even that sounded seductive, he either meant it to be or I was going absolutely mad.

We didn’t talk about anything important as we ate, just random, comfortable, small talk. Somewhere during our conversation, something clicked in Sheamus’ head. “Y/n, I know ya keep brushing this off, but I really do like ya.” He paused and my mind raced. He didn’t let me speak though, the next thing he said seemed to answer my fears. “Ah’m not just sayin’ it cause I want to sleep with ya, ah’m sayin it because ah was more content just sleepin’ next to ya than ah’ve ever been sleepin’ with any girl.” I was silent. My mind went blank. “Ah haven’t felt this way in a long time.”

“Who made you feel it before?” I asked quietly, my eyes looking downward at my coffee. I don’t really know why I asked it, it kinda just came out.

“You. In high school.” My eyes shot open, but he kept talking. “Ah had the biggest crush on ya, why do ya think I asked you to edit my papers every day?”

“Well I thought you needed help writing. You always did make the same mistakes though,” I paused as the pieces fell together in my head. “Oh my god. Sheamus, did you just make stupid mistakes in your essays so I would help you?” He nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me in high school? I always liked you too.” Now it was his turn to open his eyes in shock. “Why do you think I helped you? You were so charming and you seemed so helpless.” There was hope behind his eyes. Snap out of it. “But that doesn’t mean anything now. I don’t want to sleep with you no matter how much you might like me.” The hopeful glow behind his eyes disappeared.

“Ah don’t wanna just sleep with ya. I wanna be with ya.”

That was worse. Does he say this to all the girls he deems difficult assignments? I couldn’t trust him, I wanted to but I couldn’t. My stomach was doing flips as I imagined being with him. Waking up with him every morning and spending long nights in his arms- but that would never happen. He’s lying.

I couldn’t hide the skepticism on my face. He saw it but didn’t say anything more, I don’t know how he expected me to believe him. I wanted to be serious but I couldn’t make anything serious come out, “Well, if you want me that bad you’ll have to prove it.” I was hoping to say something along the lines of ‘Sheamus I can’t trust you and you know that.’

“Ah can prove it, y/n. Ah promise ah can.” I rolled my eyes and he smirked. “Just you watch, y/n. Ah have to go to work now but ah’ll come by the bar tonight.” His voice sounded so smooth and so confident- I was melting in my chair. He grabbed his flannel and walked up to me still sitting in my chair, he bent down and I looked up at him, thinking he was going to say something. But he kissed me instead. Then he smiled and left my apartment.

What the fuck?

What have I done?

I watched the door for a few more minutes, I was stuck in shock. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. After a while, I had managed to get up and go back to my room to grab my phone. “Megan, you’ll never believe what happened.”

“Did you sleep with him? Was it amazing? Tell me everything!” She squealed.

“Well, not really, no. It’s a long story.” I heard her get settled through the phone. “We kissed last night, at the bar, he stayed until closing. We had been talking and flirting all night but I just thought it was an attraction thing. But when he kissed me I instantly knew what everyone was raving about.” I paused, expecting something from Megan. She was silent but I shook it off. “So then we went back to my apartment and ended up in my bedroom but then I told him that I didn’t want to sleep with him. So then do you know what he did?”

“Did he leave?” She shouted. “How could you let him leave?!”

“No, no,” I started, “he didn’t leave. He just kissed me again and told me he wasn’t gonna force me into it. Then we fell asleep… fully clothed. We woke up and I made him breakfast and we talked.”

“Are you sure this was Sheamus? It sounds like he likes you.” Megan teased.

“Well then he told me that he liked me!” Megan gasped. “Yeah, he told me that he’s liked me since high school and that he was gonna prove to me that I can be with him.”

“That… is bonkers. Y/n he likes you! That’s great, but why does he need to prove anything.”

“Because I can’t get over things the way you can, Megan. I’m not as optimistic as you. I can’t get attached to him. I’ll be so hurt when I see that he’s moved on to other girls. And what if I’m working? This won’t last, there's no way he won't get bored of me then I’ll see him at my bar and I’ll have to serve him while girls fall all over him begging for him to spend the night again.”

“You already sound attached, honey.” Megan said, sounding defeated.

“I know. I get it though, he’s hypnotizing.”

“I know he is. But, I wouldn’t worry. I know a lot of girls Sheamus has been with and none of them have ever said anything like that.”

“Really?” Don’t get your hopes up.

“Yeah really, he’s never forced anyone into anything but he doesn’t stay the night with girls who don’t wanna sleep with him and he never stays for breakfast. He always wakes up before you then gets dressed and is gone. Sometimes he gets roped into morning sex but never breakfast.”

I stayed silent but I felt relieved- I know I shouldn’t care. I should feel indifferent, what do I care that he’s never treated any girl like this? Plus, he’s probably lying.

“Well, I gotta run but I’ll swing by the bar tonight.”

“Please. He said he was coming.”

“Of course, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.”

Silence. I let myself flop onto my bed and I felt myself being drawn to the side of the bed he slept on. It smelled like cologne and whiskey.

I got to the bar at 4:30 to open for 5. My heart pounded, I had no clue what was going to happen. At 4:50, I let Megan in through the back and at five, Sheamus filed in with my regulars.

“You’re here early,” I teased as he approached Megan and I. I knew the only thing I could do was keep it light and normal. Megan can’t leave and, eventually, a girl will come and take him away.

Megan, Sheamus, and I chatted idly as I served my regulars. We talked mainly about high school, considering we all went together, and a little about college. We talked about our jobs and that’s when Sheamus spoke up.

“Oh. That reminds me. Ah’ve got to finish fixin’ sink pipes for a friend, ah got the final piece to the sink in the mail this mornin'.” He stood up and stared right into my eyes before finishing his statement. He looked at me as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. “Ah’ll be right back, y/n. This shouldn’t take longer than 25 minutes.”

I nodded and he ran off, it was only 6:30, younger people wouldn’t start coming in until around 8.

“See, I told you I couldn’t trust him. There he goes running off to ‘fix pipes’.” I mimicked his accent. It hasn’t even been a day since he told me he’d prove that I’m more than just a body to him.

“I think you are still. He just left. We’ll figure out if he’s a liar or not in 20 minutes. If he comes back in time, I think I’d trust him. He seemed kinda worried about leaving you here.” Megan was being too rational. I needed someone to be extra crazy and not support a friend’s budding romance with Mr Lonely.

I wasn’t consciously expecting him to get back, but I was watching the door between serving customers. After 20 minutes, I craned my neck to look at the clock, 5 more minutes. I was still looking at the clock when I heard the door open, I stopped looking at the clock and there he was, walking towards me. I couldn’t help the smile on my face and Megan, upon seeing my expression change, turned too.

“Was someone waitin’ for me?” Sheamus teased once he sat back down in the stool.

I ignored his question. “How’d the sink go?” I asked, sounding more impatient than I wanted to.

“It was fine. Easy fix. I just had to attach a final piece then turn the water back on.” His voice was normal and genuine. There was no hint of guilt and I believed him.

“What about that condom you keep in your pocket? Where’s that?” Megan chimed in. My face went red, if he didn’t already know that I liked him too, he does now.

“Ah didn’t bring it…” he started, only to be cut off by Megan.

“Didn’t bring it? Or already used it?” She accused. I know I said earlier that I wanted her to be crazy. But now that she was, I’m not sure I liked it- I didn’t want her to uncover any truth I wasn’t ready for.

Sheamus looked annoyed. He didn’t focus on her when he spoke, he just kind of stared at her with a glazed over expression. “Ah didn’t bring it.” He paused. “Ah wanted to prove to y/n that I didn’t want to sleep with anyone else.” Sheamus turned to me and noticed my embarrassment and his expression changed, “plus, you know how I operate, lass, would I ever spend only 20 minutes with a woman?” His voice was almost cold, it sounded like he was almost scolding her for making me feel weird.

After the ‘scolding,’ his mannerisms instantly changed and we returned to normal conversation. Megan didn’t seem phased by his tone or gaze from seconds ago. She, like every other girl in Pittsburgh, seemed to fall for his charm and never stay mad at him.

I found it weird that Megan, nor any of my other friends, were jealous. When the rest of my group showed up around 8, they all flocked to Sheamus and Megan told them the “good news.” They were all excited for me. They were supportive and smiley, something I wasn’t expecting.

If what Sheamus wants is true, that’ll mean he’ll retire as the man you can call for a good fucking. Why are they not upset?

Sheamus turned down 3 girls at the bar that night. My friends stayed with us the majority of the night and we had a normal conversation. They no longer treated him like some god who had seen them all naked, but like a friend’s boyfriend. It was weird, but nice. I enjoyed feeling like he was mine.

I know I shouldn’t feel so comfortable right now. The only girl in the bar that he hasn’t seen naked was me. That should scare me, right? He’s seen all of my friends naked, he’s kissed them, he’s slept with them next to him, he’s had sex with them.

Why am I not scared? Y/N!!! He could have anyone in this bar. I should at least be worried!

Our first week “together” went by unlike any week I’ve ever had, it felt like I had been dropped into an alternate universe. Sheamus must have felt like he was going to explode- he hasn’t had sex in a week. We talked everyday, he went to work and so did I, the first night we spent together had been the only one. It should have felt normal, but it didn’t. Normally, I wouldn’t have anything to do with him, but I was beginning to understand why so many people liked having him around. Aside from the fact that I expected him to fuck another girl at any moment, he was enjoyable to be around.

It was a Wednesday, two weeks into our companionship, I had just closed the bar and Sheamus was with me. On usual weekdays, Sheamus didn’t stay too late, he worked early in the mornings and I never wanted to keep him up later than he had to be. He stayed with me tonight only because his first job of the next morning was at 11.

Sheamus was standing behind me as I was locking the door and he suddenly spoke, “Ah want ya to come back to my place tonight.” He blurted. I noticed that he had been slightly on the quieter side tonight and I knew he was mulling over something, I guess that was it.

I had never seen his apartment, rumor has it that no one has. He doesn’t bring girls back to his place… ever. I wondered why but I didn’t ask him. “Oh wow, really?” I said both excited and sarcastic.

Sheamus smirked and nodded, “C’mon, love,” he started. My heart stopped beating at the nickname. It’s not a big deal. I had to remind myself that him calling me “love” was not actually him saying he loved me. I knew the Irishman liked to tease, but something inside of me didn’t want to think of it as just a tease or a nickname. “Ya haven’t seen my flat yet.”

I followed Sheamus to his truck, he had driven me to work today, and I climbed in. The drive was filled with a comfortable silence, I caught him singing softly to the songs on the radio but I didn’t mention it. I found it cute and I knew if I called him out, he’d stop.

We arrived at his building, it was only a short drive further than mine but a lot nicer. I followed him out of the car and through the lobby. Sheamus paused to speak to the man behind the security desk. “Hey, Tony, how are ya fella?” I wasn’t surprised, Sheamus was a local personality, everyone seemed to know, and love, him.

“I’m good my man, I’m good. How are you?” His New York-Italian accent was thick. “And who is this lovely lady?” He asked, looking past Sheamus at me. “Ya know I’ve never seen this guy bring a girl here, it must be serious, huh?” I blushed and Sheamus spoke up before I could.

“This is y/n. She bartends over at Jack, ya should stop by it's a nice bar. She’s turnin’ me into an honest man.” Sheamus joked, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close. I smiled up at Sheamus knowing that, despite his joking tone, he meant it.

“Well I’m happy for you two, enjoy your night.” He said happily.

“You too, Tony.” Sheamus spoke before turning toward the elevator with me still wrapped in his arms.

I looked back and waved at the man behind the desk, “It was nice meeting you.” It was the first thing I said since climbing into his truck.

“You too, y/n.”

I don’t know what I was expecting to see in Sheamus’ apartment. I kinda was picturing something like mine, small, on the cheaper side but still nice and plainly decorated. That's not what I saw. Sheamus’ apartment was much bigger than mine. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a large kitchen and living room. Nice big windows that would let in wonderful natural lighting, a beautiful black leather couch, a large TV, and tasteful decor. He looked back and noted my visible confusion. “What,” he started. “You were expectin’ more of a bachelor pad, weren’t ya love?”

I nodded. “This is really nice, why do you never bring girls back here?” I didn't want to know the answer to that question originally. I had thought it was because he lived minimally, I could see now that he didn’t.

“Well ah didn’t want any of them in my house, fer some reason. Ah guess ah wanted to be able to leave. Ah don’t like them gettin’ too attached.” His reasoning was simple. “But ah want you here. Ah want you to get attached, ah’m already attached to ya I feel like it’s only fair.”

I smiled and let him lead me into his bedroom. More large windows and elegant black furniture that contrasted with the clean white walls. The only thing that hung on the wall was a Celtic Cross by his bed. He had photos and momentos, but they were in frames on his dresser and night tables. I didn’t stop myself from looking around. I picked up a picture of a small boy with pale skin and red hair smiling brightly in the arms of a jolly-looking woman with matching pale skin and mousy brown hair. “Is this you and your mom?” I asked, turning back to him with the photo in my hand.

Sheamus grinned and reached up to grab the back of his neck with his hand, I watched as his muscles flexed and the black fabric of his t-shirt rode up, showing shimmering white skin. “Yeah, that’s my ma’.” He moved to stand beside me and pointed to himself.

“You were adorable.” I said, my eyes locked on the small smiling boy in the photograph.

“Ah’m not adorable now?” He asked, a dramatic pained look on his face. I laughed at him and looked back at the small boy in the photo.

“Not as cute as you were here. When was this.” Sheamus had never talked about his life before moving. If he didn’t look or speak like a leprechaun, I wouldn’t even have known he was from Ireland.

He hesitated before leaning his chin on the top of my head, “Ah was four. She had just told me that she was takin’ me to a football game for my fifth birthday. My dad took the picture, he couldn’t come to the game, that or he didn’ want to.” Sheamus took the picture from my hands and placed back down on his dresser. “But enough of that, love.” Sheamus always seemed to know what I was thinking, he knew I wanted to ask more questions but he didn’t want to answer more questions about his father.

Sheamus turned back to me and leaned down to kiss me. His calloused hands held my face and I instantly forgot about what I wanted to ask him. He lifted me up and placed me gently on his bed before crawling over me. We remained clothed until my hands pulled on the hem of his shirt. My shirt came off after his but that was the only thing that came off. Sheamus waited until I made any moves and I didn’t want to tease him. He never made me feel bad about wanting to wait but I couldn’t help feeling a little conflicted about it. My fingernails raked over his pale skin, leaving red trails in their wake. Sheamus pulled away from my lips but didn’t go far. He moved to kiss my chin, his moustache tickled my lips. His soft lips moved down my neck to my collarbones and I couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped my lips. Sheamus pulled back briefly, smirking at the fact that he could unravel me with just his lips. My eyes shot from Sheamus’ face to his neck, exposed and strong, pale and begging to be bitten. I wrapped my arms around his neck and lifted my shoulders off the bed to attach my lips to his skin. Sheamus moaned as my lips ghosted along his ear and down towards his collarbone. Sheamus moved to his knees and wrapped one of his arms around my back to keep me pressed tightly against his firm body.

“Ah want ya, bad.” He moaned, his voice coming out uncontrollably. I pulled back from his neck and glared into his blue eyes. I didn’t have to speak, he knew what I was thinking. “Ah… uh. Ah mean ah want to… date ya bad.”

I smiled at him as he continued to hold me tightly against him. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what you meant.” I moved my arms from the back of his neck to cup his cheeks. I pressed my lips against his and smiled against them. Sheamus laid me back down and pulled away from the kiss.

“Ah didn’t mean to make ya uncomfortable.” His voice was soft and he looked at me sweetly. His fingers brushed across my face gently and pushed a lock of hair behind my ear.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Sheamus,” I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled myself up to his ear. “We’ll start dating after the first time you fuck me.” I whispered before letting myself drop onto the bed below him. I smirked as I stared up at his shocked face. His blue eyes were wide and his lips were slightly parted. “But that won’t happen yet, now let's go to bed.”

Sheamus groaned dramatically and flopped onto the bed beside me. He rolled out of bed only to take off his jeans. He tossed me a pair of sweatpants and asked if I wanted a shirt, I took off my own jeans and agreed to the shirt. The shirt was green and soft, it had an Irish flag across the chest. I turned away from him and slipped my bra off before pulling the shirt over my head. It was long and reached above my mid-thigh. I didn’t put on the pants, the shirt was long enough. Sheamus smirked as he watched me crawl back into bed. Ah could get used to this. He pulled the white sheets and puffy black comforter over us before he wrapped his arm around my waist. His bed was soft and warm, my clothed back was pressed against his bare torso and my bare legs were tangled in his.

I could get used to this.

Part 3

#sheamus #sheamus fanfiction #sheamus imagine #sheamus smut #sheamus x reader #wwe #mr lonely

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myblueeyedbuggers · 3 years

Text

My Boys

Chapter 6

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (best friend) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2075

Warnings: Slow Start, Language, Tiny bit of Fluff

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change

As Promised, here’s Chapter 6. I really enjoyed writing this one, heck I even laughed at one bit XD Also I’d like to thank you all for supporting my work so far, It really means the world to me that people are enjoying my work. As always Enjoy! :)

-Third Person POV

The minutes turned to hours, the hours turned into days, concern over the young girl was increasing day by day. Every single day Bucky and Steve were there, telling her how their days went and what was happening in the world all while holding y/ns hand, each day the boys watched her progress, the memory of her skin slowly regaining its colour giving them a new sense of hope.

Day by day the boys stayed as long as they could, only leaving when Mr and Mrs Barnes appeared at the door to bring them home, each time Mrs Barnes placed a small kiss on the young girl’s head before leaving. All of them taking the opportunity to show small sings of affection towards the girl, hoping that it gave her the strength to recover.

Later that night, when everyone was in bed and resting, a sharp ring disturbed the silence surrounding the house, half asleep Mr Barnes answered the phone, a wide smile appeared on his face as the news the family had been waiting for all week arrived. Quickly the parents rushed to the boys, the pair sharing a smile as they frantically ran around the room to get ready, a few tears of happiness sliding down their faces. A huge sense of relief flowed through Bucky’s veins, all the guilt he felt throughout the week lessened, at least now he knew that he didn’t cause y/n’s death.

-Back at the Hospital

Readers POV

My eyes felt like they’d been welded shut and my head was poundin’ like nobody’s business, what the hell happened to me? Finally, I managed to open my eyes and I was immediately blinded by the bright lights shining in my goddamn face, can I not catch a break for once in my life?! A loud groan accidently slid past my lips, why is it every time I wake up some part of my body is aching? You’d think I was a pro wrestler or somethin’!

I gazed around the room, distant voices could be heard from the corridor, hang on where the hell am I? the room was decorated plain white, with a few pictures hanging on the wall and a small sofa was tucked into the back corner. Another door, presumably for the bathroom, was to the right of the window, the curtains were drawn but the steady tapping on the other side told me it was raining. What a way to come back into reality, absolutely chucking it down with rain, my dumbass soon realised that the nurses might not know I was awake, which is kind of important information.

Slowly I raised myself up, the ache on my midriff increasing much to my displeasure, as I slowly moved my legs off the edge of the bed, both were shaking with the effort of holding my body up and I hoped to god that I didn’t land on my ass anytime soon. Hang on, that might be becoming a very bad habit of mine, I’m gonna need to work on that later… finally my legs stopped shaking, taking VERY cautious steps I started making my way to the door. You’d think walking 5 feet would be easy, wouldn’t you? apparently not.

After about 3 minutes of moving like a bloody snail, I could finally reach the door handle, now for the hard part… turning the door handle, a high-pitched squeak met my ears as the door slowly flung open, the voices outside my room stopped and foot steps came towards my room. Two nurses came around the corner and stopped when the spotted me, a few seconds passed before I started to feel awkward, so I decided to wave at them to try and break the tension. Which in hindsight was one of the dumbest things I could have done in that moment, but it did seem to break them outta their trance, they both came towards me and started fussing over me, “Miss you shouldn’t have gotten out of bed! Why didn’t you just press the call button on the bed side table? how long have you been awake?” There was a bloody call button?! For the love of god!

“I woke up about 5 minutes ago, I’m sorry but could you tell me what happened to me? All I remember is fainting near the bank” The nurses shared a look, both of them ignored my question for the moment and focused on getting me into the bed and calling for the doctor, they gave me strict instructions not to move till the doctor arrived. Well, at least I know I’m in a hospital but what the hell did I do to land in here in the first place? All I remember is getting ready for the war and setting up in the dinner before it all went wrong. Shooting happened, I was taken hostage, shooting happened again, Alexi punched me and broke my nose, I was held at ransom before till I got bored and ran outta the line of fire, Bucky and Steve were pinned behind a wall, I fought with a մոխրագույն օրխիդ and got shot…wait a second…

I’M GONNA KILL THOSE IDIOTS!

I got bloody shot! How the hell did I forget that?! It’s not like I stubbed my toe, an actual bullet went inside me! Oh god are Bucky and Steve okay?! Where are they? Did they get hurt? My mind was going crazy with worry, I hoped to god that this bloody doctor got here soon, or I’d be out of here looking for those pair of numpties! A knock on the door disrupted my thoughts as a team of doctors and nurses filled the room, a few carried important looking equipment with them, a man with a clipboard approached me with a reassuring smile.

“Good Evening Miss y/n, my names Doctor Miller, you’ve been unconscious for a week or so, due to a gunshot wound to your midriff, the bullet shattered on impact and we had to operate to stop any internal bleeding. Now don’t worry too much about that, it’s in the past and there’s no lasting damage done, but we’re going to have to keep you in the hospital for one more night to monitor your vitals but after that you’ll be free to go. If you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask me.”

Okay, all I heard was “unconscious for a week” and “no lasting damage”, I really hope that I don’t smell too bad, my pride’s been damaged enough for one week.

“Dr. Miller, do you know what happened to the two boys that were with me at the bank? Did they get hurt at all?” I could hear the fear in my voice, I dreaded the answer and prayed to god that nothing happened to them. He took a moment to reply, my worry increasing by the second, “No, none of the boys got hurt, but I can’t say the same for some of the members of the Црни лабуд, some were killed during the fight and a few passed away in their sleep. I believe that someone called Damien is still alive though, he gave a statement that completely cleared your name in court today”

What? I can’t believe it, why would he do that? One by one everyone started to leave the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I don’t understand it at all, why would Damien go out of his way to protect me? All that’d of done was increase his jail time for human trafficking. It doesn’t make sense…

-Time Skip

At some point I fell asleep, the sound of faint whispering disturbed me from my sleep as I slowly opened my eyes, sat next to me was Bucky’s mother, his father stood behind her as they both offered me a gentle smile. A few tears slid down Mrs Barnes cheeks when she realised I was fully awake, her arms immediately enveloped me into a warm hug, “Oh my Goodness sweetheart, please don’t ever scare me like that again, I was so worried about you” I didn’t reply to her, instead I chose to hug her tighter as confusion began to cloud my mind. Why would she be worried about me? Me? Other people would have been over joyed at the news of me being shot.

Slowly she pulled away from me, choosing to look me in the eyes as carefully stroked my cheek, inspecting the few bruises littered on my face, a small sniffle grabbed my attention as I turned away from her, my eyes glanced over in the direction of the sound. There stood in the corner of the room were the boys, both of their eyes red and puffy as they cautiously made their way towards me, none of us said anything when they reached my side. My eyes scanned over Steve checking for any injuries and damage before I pulled him into a hug, his body tensed up in shock before he relaxed and returned the embrace. “I’m so sorry y/n I never wanted you to get hurt, neither of us did we just wanted to help you” even with his voice muffled, I could tell that the poor lad was crying and I couldn’t blame him, bloody Niagara falls was streaming down my cheeks, I pulled away from him and turned to Bucky, he was looking at the floor and completely avoiding my gaze.

Oh, hell no, no sad boys allowed here! Carefully I leaned forward and grabbed his hand, intertwining our fingers together as I pulled him closer, something inside me hurt when his eyes met mine, they held so much guilt, so much pain and sadness and I hated seeing him like this. No words were exchanged as he wrapped his arms around me, a sigh of relief escaped him, my arms automatically tightened around him when a single tear fell onto my neck. His silent sobs cut me down to my core, behind him Steve stood to the side, his eye meeting mine as I grabbed his hand in reassurance, once Bucky calmed down we both drew back, and I pulled both boys in front of me.

“I want both of you boys to listen to me, none of this was your fault, this is all on me. I pushed you both away to protect you and I’m sorry for that, I should have been more honest with you, me getting shot has nothing to do with anything either of you did.” My voice was firm and assertive, but of course that didn’t stop either of them trying to argue with me. Not much of a surprise there.

“But we went in the middle of it, we tried to play the hero’s and we ended up being the villains, you should be mad, not forgivin’ our stupid asses” this is probably not the best time to notice this, but Steve just swore for the first time in his life, I couldn’t be prouder! Wait, where was I?

Goddamn it y/n, concentrate for once in your bloody life! “Okay, stop that crap right now Rodgers, none of this had anything to do with you, although I would like to ask the both of what THE HELL YOU WERE THINKING DIVIN’ INTO THE MIDDLE OF A BLOODY GANG WAR?!” it was safe to say that they weren’t excepting that.

It was actually quite funny, Bucky went completely pale and started stuttering while Steve actually jumped up in surprise and fell down, admittedly I felt a bit bad about that bit. Neither of the boys could form a coherent sentence, both completely panicking as they tried to explain the reason behind their complete stupidity. Slowly my eyebrows started to raise as a small smirk made its way onto my face, the pair of them making no sense as Bucky pointed to Steve and said something about justice. I know I shouldn’t be finding this funny, but I couldn’t help it, they were babbling like a bunch of school girls!

Eventually, they both shut up once they noticed me failing to stifle a giggle, their expression turning from ones of panic to amusement, and eventually I couldn’t contain it, “I’m sorry but your faces were bloody brilliant! Oh my god I’m dying” both of the boys rolled their eyes at me, shaking their heads as Bucky’s parents started laughing with me.

Another Chapter down, as always feel free to leave some tips on how I can improve my writing for you all, Requests and tags are open :) Thanks for Reading!

Rose xx

#winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #captain america #captain america x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #mcu #fanfic #reader #reader insert #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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lightwoodsmagic · 5 years

Text

I’ve been struggling with my writing for the last couple of days, and nothing was really helping, until @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed gave me the below prompt. Thank you, I love you.

‘Single dad Zayn needing a babysitter REALLY badly bc if he misses his exam he gets kicked out of school so he sorta asks his new neighbour Liam if please please he can watch her for a few hours’

Hope you enjoy!

📚 🧁

“I’m so sorry mate, you know we would if we could but I’ve had to go into work today, and Haz’s got that shoot.”

Zayn squeezed his eyes shut, his free hand rubbing at his temples. Akilah was watching him with wide eyes from the floor, her thumb shoved in her mouth; he didn’t have the heart today to try and break the habit.

“It’s fine Lou, thanks anyway,” he sighed. “I’ll give Niall a call, see if he can watch her.” He already knew he couldn’t, remembered the meetings he said he had today, but the white lie was better than the additional guilt that it’d make Louis feel. “We’ll catch up soon, yeah?”

After Zayn finished the call, he sank down onto the couch, hands trembling slightly as he tried to figure out what exactly his options were.

His exam was in an hour, a half hour drive away, and his usual babysitter had called this morning with food poisoning. He’d tried desperately to find a replacement, calling everyone he knew until it’d fallen on even calling the people he knew were busy, just in case. The lads were busy, his family all working or at school and too far away to help, the girls he worked with at the restaurant unable to help. He only had one other option, and he just had to pray that Bev from across the hall was home.

A small hand gripped his jeans, and Zayn’s gaze dropped, his eyes softening and his heart melting as Akilah pulled herself up, holding onto his knees.

“Baba, snack now?”

“Hi, mere chand.” Zayn ran an affectionate hand through her hair, grinning when she tried to bat it away, even though it was slightly strained. “I’ve packed some snacks for you because Baba has to go to school.” He stood up, heaving Akilah up with him with a woo that made her giggle. “Do you want to go see Mrs Johnson? See if you spend some time with her while I’m at school?”

She shoved her thumb back into her mouth as Zayn moved to grab her bag from the kitchen. “Yeah!”

Zayn blew out a breath as he moved through the flat and across the hall, knocking gently and hoping with everything he had that she was home and -

“Zayn dear! And Akilah, how are you, sweet girl?” Bev cooed, but Zayn’s heart sank when he realised she had her coat on and her handbag. “What can I do for you, love?”

Zayn gripped Akilah tightly to his body, hoping her weight and humming in his ear would settle him. “I - I have an exam in less than an hour and no one can watch her, and I’ve already rescheduled once and if I can’t make it, I’m gonna get kicked out of the class and I won’t be able to graduate Bev, and I’m sorry, I just didn’t know where else to go.”

The trembling in his hands grew when Bev’s face fell, and she immediately looked regretful. He looked down to hide the stinging at the corners of his eyes.

“I’m so sorry love, I have an important appointment, but it’s okay,” she said firmly, slow hand coming up to lightly pat his face, wiping a tear from his cheek, “because you should go and ask Liam.”

Zayn’s eyebrows furrowed as Akilah started to squirm. He popped her carefully on the ground and pushed the heel of his hands into his eyes. “Who’s Liam?”

Bev made a soft noise, pushing gently at his chest as she moved out of the doorway and shut it behind her. “The lovely man who just moved in next to you! He’s such a sweetheart, Zayn, and I was just talking to him about his little nieces and nephews,” she mused, gesturing at Liam’s door as she moved towards the lift. “I’m sure he won’t mind, he’s very kind,” she stopped, turning to fix him with a sly grin, “and he’s very handsome.”

“I can’t leave her with a stranger, Bev! I don’t even know him,” he hissed, ignoring the knowing look on face.

“Yes well, I do dear, and he’s very lovely. He’ll look after her well, I’m sure,” she said happily, “and maybe you too, if you’d let him.”

Zayn spluttered, heat rushing to his cheeks as he tried to protest quietly, but she cheerfully waved him off. He didn’t know this man, had never even met him, but he’d officially run out of options. There was no harm in trying, he supposed, no other real choice.

He knelt down, his knee digging harshly into the carpet. “Okay, are you ready to meet someone new? His name’s Liam, apparently.” He tried to sound positive, but he could tell from the hesitance on his little girl’s face that he hadn’t succeeded.

“I guess so,” she mumbled around her thumb, but then she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung, and Zayn couldnt stop the heavy feeling settling in his stomach.

He lifted her off the ground, pressing a kiss to her temple, and stood in front of his neighbour’s door. He could hear soft music coming from inside, a soft melody and careful bass. Zayn was running out of time, so he took a deep breath, and knocked firmly. He bounced Akilah gently on his hip, realising that she was getting too old for this now, really, but she was helping to settle his nerves and surely it wasn’t really a bad thing -

The door swung open, and Zayn’s breath caught in his throat.

The man standing in the doorway, soft grin and curious eyes, muscled arms and what looked like flour in his hair, was one of the most attractive men he’d ever seen, and Zayn did not have time for a breakdown right now.

“Hello, can I help you?” His voice was low and warm, and his smile widened when he noticed Akilah, and oh. There were crinkles at the corners of his eyes and he was covered in tattoos and Zayn was half a second away from thinking that his exam could go and fuck itself before Liam spoke again. “Oh, hello pretty girl! I’m Liam, who are you?” Liam reached out to shake her foot softly.

Zayn was frozen, and all he could do was watch as Akilah shyly drew her thumb out of mouth and eyed Liam carefully.

“Akilah. This is my Baba.”

Liam’s eyes snapped to his, and his smile shifted, no less genuine but something behind it now that filled Zayn with warmth.

“Uh, hi, ‘m Zayn. I live next door.” He reached forward awkwardly to shake Liam’s hand, and his grip was strong and he really needed to focus.

“I’m Liam, but you already know that,” Liam laughed, and his eyes only moved from Zayn’s quickly to check on where Akilah was squirming.

Zayn sighed and put her down. “Careful please darling, just stand here a moment.” He steeled himself, and then just allowed himself to ramble. “I know we only just met, and I’m so sorry to ask anything of you, but I have an exam at school and no one else can watch her and Bev said you might be free and I’m sure you don’t want to spend the afternoon looking after a kid you don’t know and we don’t even know each other but I can’t miss this and I’m desperate Liam, and —.”

“Zayn,” Liam held up a hand, stained green with what looked like food dye. “Of course I can watch her, you need to get to your exam. I promise it’s okay, alright? I’ve got a niece around her age, we’ll have fun!” He reached out to gently grip Zayn’s bicep, and Zayn almost whined at the contact.

It’d been years since he’d had any kind of relationship, bar a one night stand almost a year ago, and now even this was almost erring in the side of too much. Inappropriate really, considering the situation. Zayn shook his head and let the words sink in.

“Wait, really?” Relief flooded through him, and he quickly shoved the bag at Liam. “There’s snacks and some games and drawing stuff in there, some diapers as well, and some wipes.” He picked Akilah up again as Liam waved at her out of the corner of his eye. “Mere chand, I have to go to school, okay? Do you wanna stay with Liam for a little while? I’ll be back as soon as I can, but you’ll have fun, yeah?”

Akilah grinned suddenly at him, and reached out for Liam in a way that she’d never done with a new person before. Zayn swore quietly, and handed her to him properly, heart stuttering in his chest as he watched the two of them smile at each other.

“Lee-yum! We’ll have fun, bye Baba.” She wasn’t even looking at Zayn when she said it, eyes wide and focused on Liam, and Zayn could definitely relate.

“Yeah Baba, we’ll have fun,” Liam murmured, gaze back on Zayn, and bounced Akilah on his hip, and Zayn’s heart stuttered in his chest. “I was just doing some baking for my sister’s party tonight, do you wanna help me?”

Akilah squirmed again, in Liam’s arms this time, pumping her tiny fist in the air in a way she only could’ve learned from Harry, and Zayn rolled his eyes fondly at the cheer she let out. So much for being worried, then.

Zayn would’ve stared at the image forever, but he was definitely going to be late if he didn’t leave.

“Be good for Liam, okay love?” He darted forward to kiss her forehead, “and I’ll be back soon. Liam,” he reached out to cling to Liam’s forearm, his thumb running circles into his wrist. “Thank you, I’m beyond grateful, I can’t even explain it.”

“Zayn!” Liam laughed, swaying slightly so Akilah laughed. “Just go, okay? I’m more than happy to help. Can I have your number?” He was smirking now, and there was no way Zayn was going to be able to concentrate on his exam. “Just in case something happens.”

Zayn quickly put his number in Liam’s phone, hands still trembling slightly. “Okay, I’ll just,” he jabbed his thumb awkwardly towards the lift, “I’ll just go.”

Liam’s grin turned slightly wicked. “Okay. Good luck, Zayn.”

Zayn started walking backwards now, soaking in the sight of his beautiful daughter giggling in the arms of a gorgeous man. “Thank you. I - I’ll see you later, Leeyum.” He let the teasing word sit in his mouth longer, drawing it out, and the look on Liam’s face made it worth it. Zayn grinned with a final wave, and jogged towards the lift. He was anxiously tapping his foot, waiting for the doors to open, when Liam called his name out into the hall.

Zayn spun around, pulse racing. “Yeah?”

“Maybe when you come back, you could stay for a bit?” Liam seemed slightly shy now, and the answer was obvious even before he kept talking. “I have some cakes and biscuits and scones, and I’m - well, I’m a baker so they’re good, I promise, and —.”

“Liam,” Zayn cut him off, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Absolutely. I’d absolutely love to.”

#ziam #my drabble #ziam drabble #now i wanna write a whole FIC UGH #ziamfanfiction

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calumcest · 4 years

Text

i took a walk with my fame down memory lane (i never did find my way back) - chapter seven

[ao3]

yes i missed last week but i have a good excuse i was in hospital when i was supposed to be posting we’re back on our scheduled bullshit this week also sidenote can we please appreciate that i have actually stuck to this schedule for nearly TWO MONTHS ?? i’m actually dead gassed w myself i really should do this with soulmate au maybe once britpop is finished i will replace monday evenings with soulmate au. do not hold me to that though i work on whims

of course i must thank my lovely @tirednotflirting who has been suffering in this document with me as i struggled through this chapter i cant lie to you sam your little comments and just knowing that you’re watching me suffer feel like a little pat on the head thats like gwarn you can do it so thank u for that <3 and also this chapter owes the life i have forcibly breathed into it to @kaleidoscopeminds who listened to me scream about it for like half of today and helped me navigate part of it i hope i have done it some slight justice

Michael insists that he knows a great local chippy, but when he turns into yet another residential street with no shops in sight after a good five minutes in the freezing cold, Calum frowns.

“Thought you said it was local?” he says.

“It is,” Michael says. “Never said it was local to me, though.” Calum stops, and stares at him.

“Are you serious?” he demands, edged with a little uncertainty, because he’s not quite sure whether they’re there yet, not after one conversation, and Michael laughs, bright and loud. It makes Calum’s stomach flip, and he’s not quite sure whether it’s pleasant or unpleasant, or maybe just because he’s absolutely fucking starving.

“It’s not far,” Michael promises. “Two minutes, tops.”

“This had better be the best fucking fish and chips I’ve ever had,” Calum grumbles, shoving his hands into his pockets and nosing into the collar of his coat. Jesus, isn’t London supposed to be warmer than the north? He’s not inhaling all this pollution for nothing.

True to Michael’s word, though, another street-and-a-half later they’ve made it to the chippy, and Michael shoves the door open with his shoulder, pushing it far enough that Calum can make it through before it swings shut again.

“Fuck me, it’s warm in here,” Calum mutters, pulling his hands out of his pockets and stretching his fingers experimentally, wincing as that horrible burning sensation of a sudden temperature change shoots through them.

“It’s what, maybe fifteen degrees?” Michael says, amused. “What sort of a fucking Australian are you?” Calum glares at him instinctively, and then falters, because he’s still not sure exactly where he stands, but Michael just laughs, turning to the menu.

“They do a good battered sausage,” he tells Calum, who reaches around into his pocket for his wallet as he blinks up at the prices. Fucking hell, two quid for a bag of chips? And Noel and Liam want to move down here?

“Who the fuck goes to a chippy and gets a battered sausage?” Calum says, scanning the menu, and frowning. “Where are the mushy peas?”

“The what?”

“The mushy peas.”

“What the fuck is that?” Calum tears his eyes away from the menu to stare at Michael.

“What the fuck are you on about?” he says. “Y’know, mushy peas?”

“Is that some kind of northern thing?” Michael asks, and Calum frowns. Surely not; mushy peas are a fucking staple of a fish-and-chip dinner, aren’t they? What the fuck do they eat down south if not mushy peas? Mushy capers, or something?

“Can’t be,” Calum says, still frowning, turning back to the menu. “What the fuck else do you eat with-”

“Hang on a minute,” Michael interrupts, frowning. “Is that- is that Liam? ” Calum cuts himself off abruptly, blood running cold.

What?

“What?” he says, and hopes Michael can’t hear the way his heart is in his throat, spinning wildly on the spot and trying to follow Michael’s gaze.

“Over there,” Michael says, sounding mildly intrigued and moderately confused, and nods in the direction of a table in the corner.

Sure enough, there, frowning down at his chips as he shakes out a sachet of ketchup and says something indecipherable to Noel, who’s sat opposite him - Calum would know the back of that head anywhere, sees the top of it enough with the five inches he has on him - is Liam.

Fuck.

Shit.

“D’you want to go over?” Michael says, and Calum swallows.

What the fuck is he supposed to say? He can’t imagine no, because I’ll get kicked out of my band, and you might get murdered will go down well. It doesn’t really matter, though, because his hesitation is an answer in itself.

“They don’t know you’re here, do they?” Michael’s voice is a little heavy, a little bitter, and a little sad. It makes Calum’s stomach curl in on itself, like it’s trying to make itself too small to feel anything anymore.

“They know I’m here,” Calum says. “Just- not to see you.” What’s the point in lying? That’s been the whole point of him coming down here, hasn’t it? Stop lying to Michael, start lying to Liam and Noel instead. It’s like Calum has a limited amount of honesty to go around, can’t keep himself in one piece, has to hand people little parts of himself so they won’t see the full thing. It’s fucking exhausting, especially when he hasn’t got booze or drugs to numb the pain of the pieces he keeps chopping himself into. Maybe it would have been easier if he’d stayed in Manchester, if he’d said no when Michael offered his phone number.

(But, Calum knows, somewhere in the depths of his ragged soul, that no matter how many worlds there are out there, no matter how many parallel universes, there could never be one in which he could say no to Michael.)

“Why?” Calum can’t help but bark out a short, humourless laugh at that as he turns around, heart beating wildly, praying Liam hasn’t seen them.

“They’d fucking kill me. And you.” Michael glances over at Liam again, frowning slightly, and then looks back at Calum, confusion lacing the green-blue of his eyes, like he’s trying to work out what Calum really means by that. Calum thinks he’s been pretty fucking clear, isn’t really sure what Michael’s searching for in his eyes, until Michael opens his mouth, and says:

“Are you ashamed of me?” Jesus. Does Michael really want to do this here? In a fucking London fish-and-chip shop?

“No,” Calum says. “Can we- can we do this somewhere else? Just-” he cuts himself off, and Michael purses his lips, considering, and then sighs, nods, and heads for the door. Calum nigh on fucking runs after him, speedwalks out and halfway down the street until he thinks they’re a safe enough distance away, and then stops, letting Michael round on him.

“Why haven’t you told them?” Michael asks, and Calum can see all the hurt swimming in his eyes and thinks fuck, not now, not just when I’ve got you again.

“They’re-” Calum stops. He’s not really sure how to phrase it. Fucking cunts is probably the closest he can get, but then he’d have to try and explain why despite that, despite the fact that neither Liam nor Noel have a rational bone in their bodies, Calum loves them, and would do anything for them. “Not exactly reasonable, when it comes to this shit.” Michael raises an eyebrow.

“‘Not exactly reasonable’?” he echoes. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Calum shrugs, a little uncomfortably.

“They take this whole Blur-Oasis thing very seriously,” he says, and Michael frowns.

“They do?” He sounds surprised.

“Don’t you?”

“No,” Michael says. “Damon thinks it’s a fucking laugh.” Calum almost groans. Fucking hell, isn’t that just brilliant? He gets stuck with the mental northern lads who can’t take anything seriously except the one thing they don’t need to, and Michael gets the sensible southern boys who’ll listen to reason and probably hold hands while they do.

(Calum wouldn’t change it for the fucking world, though.)

“Well, Noel and Liam don’t,” Calum says. “I’d get chucked out of a window if they knew I so much as thought about you.” Michael stares at him.

“They’re mental,” he says, incredulously. “They’re absolutely fucking mental. What is this, fucking Montagues and Capulets?”

“That’s what they’d have you believe,” Calum says, shoving his hands back in his coat pockets. Michael blinks.

“Jesus,” he says, after a moment. “So they don’t even know we’re talking?” Calum can’t help but bark out a short, humourless laugh at that.

“No,” he says. “No. Noel would- and Liam- no. No.” His stomach churns as a number of thoughts flash through his mind - Noel and Liam screaming at him, kicking him out of the band, never speaking to him again - and he shakes his head, half to try and clear his head of the thoughts and half to emphasise just how much Calum can’t tell them.

“So, what, I’m your dirty little secret?” Michael sounds a little bitter about it, and Calum can’t really blame him, but that doesn’t stop his heart twisting a little in his chest at the tone of his voice.

“I- look,” Calum says, a little desperately. “This is my life, Michael.” Michael inhales deeply, doesn’t exhale, just looks at Calum, weighing something up in his mind. His eyes are a little sad, a little angry, heavier and older than Calum remembers them ever being. It sends a tiny shiver down his spine, but for the first time the irrefutable evidence of Michael changing doesn’t make him feel a little queasy. Instead, it’s oddly thrilling, seeing the new self-assuredness and confidence with which Michael makes his decisions, no longer based purely on a split-second emotion. It drives home that Michael’s different, now, that things aren’t the same as they were back then, but in a way that makes Calum think maybe different could be better.

“Alright,” Michael says eventually, on a long exhale. “I- okay. I get it. They’re your band, right?” He pauses, and then smiles, a little sheepishly. “And to be honest, I haven’t told anyone you’re here today, either.” Calum blinks at him.

“Hypocrite,” he says, but it’s soft, tentative, no heat to it. Michael grins all the same, and it just about manages to reach his eyes.

“Hey,” he says, protesting a little. “They at least know we’re talking.” Calum hesitates.

“What’ve you told them?” he asks. Michael shrugs.

“Just that we’ve spoken on the phone a few times,” he says. “I mean, it’s not like I could avoid it, after Graham picked up your call on my birthday.” Oh, shit. Yeah.

“Oh,” Calum says. “Yeah. I forgot about that.”

“Yeah,” Michael says, grimacing a little.

“Did he ever tell Damon you locked him in a bathroom?” Michael laughs, bright and a little surprised, like he’s taken aback that Calum remembers that.

“No,” he says. “But for the price I paid, he’d better keep his mouth shut about everything I ever fucking do for the rest of my life.” Calum raises an eyebrow, and Michael grins, properly this time, and shakes his head.

“Wouldn't you like to know,” he says, and takes a step back, walking back into the stream of people that have been passing by.

“Oh, c’mon,” Calum says, falling into step with Michael, who just laughs again. “You can’t say that and not tell me.”

“I’m not telling you,” Michael says. “I take this Blur-Oasis shit seriously, y’know? Can’t be fraternising with the enemy." Calum throws him a sharp glance, but Michael’s still grinning, eyes sparkling with something a little mischievous that reminds Calum so much of the Michael he once knew that he falters, almost trips over his own feet.

“Is that why you’re trying to starve me to death?” Calum says, testing the waters. Michael snorts.

“You were the one that wanted out of the best fish and chip shop in London, my friend,” he says, mock-snootily. “Luckily for you, I’m feeling particularly magnanimous today, so I’ll take you to a good Italian place.” Calum raises an eyebrow.

“Magnanimous?” he echoes. “Since when do you know words that long?”

“Damon’s rules,” Michael says. “Have to learn at least five new words a week, and a spelling test on Sundays.” Calum blinks at him.

“Really?”

“No, you fucking idiot,” Michael says, a little incredulously, a lot amused. “Jesus, don’t they do sarcasm up north?”

“Better than most,” Calum says. “It just sounds like something Damon would do, is all.” Michael laughs, turning to grin at Calum over his shoulder as he pushes the door to a small Italian place open.

“He did make me read Siddhartha before he let me join the band,” he admits, and Calum makes a noise of triumph.

“See?” he crows, and Michael just laughs again, and Calum thinks the warmth stealing over him really has nothing to do with the central heating in the restaurant.

-------

They spend a leisurely hour or two in the restaurant, talking about absolutely nothing of import, skirting around anything that seems like it might get a little too serious, and Calum’s grateful for it. His carbonara tastes all the creamier when Michael starts pointing out passers-by, commenting on their frowns or their fast walks or their hideous coats, making Calum grin and splutter into his drink with every wicked and quick comment he makes. It’s almost like the old days, has the same sharp wit and ease that Michael’s tongue has always been good with, but is a little more refined than then, has something more mellow to it, like Michael’s no longer trying to impress Calum or keep him by his side. It’s oddly heady, actually, the new sheen of confidence that polishes all of Michael’s words before they leave his mouth, makes Calum lose his focus every once in a while as he just stares at the easy self-assuredness held in Michael’s shoulders, until Michael waves a hand in front of his face and says Earth to Calum, a small smile playing at his lips, a slight glimmer in his eyes. Calum can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed, though, still knows Michael well enough to read the smile as a pleased one, the glimmer as charmed, and just grins back, trying to stop his heart from jumping from his chest to his throat to his feet to his stomach and back again.

It’s already getting dark by the time they head out of the restaurant - fucking December, honestly - and they take their time walking back to Michael’s house, wandering down side street after side street as Michael tells Calum about the difficulties he’s been having with his neighbour. Calum just listens, nodding and sighing and calling the neighbour a cunt in all the right places, and by the time they’re back at Michael’s house, it’s fully dark, the two of them bathed in the harsh orange light of the London streetlights.

“When’s your train?” Michael asks, digging in his pocket for his keys and sliding them into the lock.

“I, uh,” Calum says. “Didn’t book a specific one.” Michael raises an eyebrow at him over his shoulder as he unlocks the door, then steps inside and holds the door for Calum to walk in.

“Why not?” he asks, flicking the light switch on, and Calum shrugs, busying himself with pulling his shoes off.

“Wasn’t sure how long I’d be here,” he says. Michael just hums at that as he kicks his own shoes off, like he’s mulling it over.

“When are Liam and Noel heading back?” he asks, and Calum shrugs again, a little more tense this time.

“Don’t know,” he says. “Probably no later than six. Liam’ll want to be on the piss by nine.”

“Not much else to do up there, I s’pose,” Michael says, a little flippantly, heading into the living room, making Calum frown as he follows.

“There’s plenty to do,” he says, a little indignantly, and Michael turns back, throws him a slightly-amused look over his shoulder.

“Proper Manny boy now, aren’t you?” he says, settling down on the overstuffed armchair opposite the sofa again, curling his legs underneath himself. Calum sits down on the sofa, stretches out for a moment to try and crack his back, and then settles back against it with a scowl.

“It’s home,” Calum says, surprising himself with the sincerity with which the words are saturated. Michael cocks his head, and Calum knows what he’s thinking. When did Sydney stop being home to you?

“D’you not ever miss it?” he says, but he only really sounds curious. Calum shrugs.

“Not really,” he says. “I only really- uh. Miss the people.” He averts his gaze, tries to stop his cheeks heating up. He’d almost said I only really miss you.

“Luke and Ashton are flying over in January,” Michael says. “You should come down and see them.” Calum swallows.

“Depends when,” he says. “Think we’re back over in America in January.” Michael frowns.

“You’ll be at the NME awards, though, won’t you?” he says.

“Well, yeah, but so will Noel and Liam,” Calum says, and Michael’s face falls. Only fractionally, so slight that if Calum weren’t instinctively tuned into Michael’s frequency he would have missed it, but he is, so he doesn’t.

“Oh,” Michael says. “Yeah. Right. Well, I know they’d love to see you.”

“Mm,” Calum says, a little uncomfortably. He hates this, doesn’t want to be in a position where he has to pick his old life or his new.

“I told them,” Michael says, and he sounds a little apologetic.

“Told who?”

“Luke and Ashton. About us, y’know. Talking again.” Calum’s stomach flips. Right. So now the entirety of Blur and two of his friends from five years ago know, and his own best friends don’t. Brilliant.

“Oh,” he says, and Michael has the dignity to look a little ashamed.

“They were happy,” he offers, like it’ll assuage any of the guilt that’s bonded itself so tightly to each one of Calum’s blood cells he barely remembers what it’s like to walk around without their heavy burden weighing him down. “They’ve been asking after you.”

“Oh?” Calum says, and hopes Michael doesn’t hear the thickness of his voice.

“Yeah,” Michael says. “Luke’s finished his pilot training, now. He was in Japan the same time as me, so we went for a coffee.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Good,” Michael says, “yeah, good. Misses Ashton when he’s away, but.” He shrugs, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Not sure what else he expected, becoming a pilot.” Calum huffs out a laugh, a little bitter, a little amused.

“And Ashton’s a teacher?” he says, and Michael nods. “What does he teach?”

“RE, I think,” Michael says. Calum snorts, but it’s sort of fond.

“Sounds like Ashton,” he says, and Michael grins.

“At least he put all those fucking books about Buddhism and that to good use,” he says.

“D’you remember when he tried to make us all read the entire Bible?” Calum says, and Michael laughs, short and bright.

“I remember him being beside himself when we just circled all the verses about masturbating,” Michael says, and Calum finds a laugh punched out of him by a sudden memory, surprising him with its intensity.

“D’you remember Luke made it through the entire Old Testament?” he says, and Michael’s smile grows, and he nods.

“The things love makes you do,” he says, grinning, and Calum’s smile falters.

Yeah. Love can make people go to the ends of the Earth for each other, or make someone read the entire Old Testament, or maybe even make someone lie to their best friends and put their entire career on the line. Calum doesn't want to think about that.

(It can't be that, anyway. It just can't.)

Michael seems to sense the change in Calum’s mood, because he shifts a little uncomfortably and clears his throat.

“Are you staying home for Christmas, then?” he says, and Calum blinks, and nods.

“Yeah,” he says.

“Is Mali coming?”

“No,” Calum says. “Can’t stand a cold Christmas, she says.” Michael smiles, a little wistfully.

“Took me a while to get used to,” he says. “Fuck me, the first time it snowed? ”

“Oh, God, I know,” Calum says, a little more fervently than he’d intended to. “I thought it’d be all soft, y’know? Liam fucking saw to that misconception. Turned up at my house with a bunch of pre-made snowballs, the prick. Looked like I’d got battered in a pub brawl, or something.” Michael snorts.

“No one ever mentioned how slippery it is, either,” he says.

“Or how nasty it is when it melts,” Calum agrees.

“Or how wet it is in your hair,” Michael says. Calum raises an eyebrow.

“It’s water,” he says. “You could’ve worked that one out for yourself.” Michael rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“Fuck off,” he says. “Where’s the Aussie solidarity?”

“Gone as soon as you insulted Manchester,” Calum tells him, and Michael laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“S’pose there are a few good things about it,” he concedes, eyes glittering. “One, in particular.” Calum swallows.

“Oasis are pretty good, yeah,” he says, and Michael's eyes flash with amusement.

“Pretty subpar bassist, though,” he says conversationally.

“Is that so?” Calum says. Michael looks at ease, relaxed and sunk back into his armchair, smile on his face and eyes lit up with laughter, but Calum can’t help but feel hesitant, a little afraid to lean too far into the comfortable familiarity of the conversation. What if Michael changes his mind?

"Mm," Michael says. "Personally, I think they just keep him in for his looks." Calum raises an eyebrow, tries not to let the way his heart's just skipped a beat show on his face. It doesn't mean anything, he tells himself. It's just Michael's sense of humour.

"What, with Liam in the band?" Calum says, and Michael scrunches his face up.

"He's too pretty for me," he says, and then unscrunches his face again and raises his eyebrows. "Mind you, though, I wouldn't say no if-"

"You fucking would if you know what's good for you," Calum tells him, and Michael laughs.

"Would I?" he says, eyes gleaming. "Think I'd need a more tempting offer." He's looking at Calum in anticipation, like he's expecting a certain response, and it makes Calum swallow - twice, because his heart doesn't know how to behave.

"I'll see what I can do," he says, and Michael grins at him.

Right answer.

-------

The journey back home is uneventful.

Michael had kindly forgotten to inform Calum of just how much of a rush hour rush hour really is in London, meaning he has to wait for three tubes to pass before he makes it to the edge of the platform, and then has to spend the two stops back to Euston shoved uncomfortably against the glass that divides the seats from the door area. At least it’s only two stops, though, he tells himself, tumbling off the train with a bunch of serious-looking commuters, half of whom seem to be headed back to Manchester. Calum’s train is already packed when he gets on, even though he walks all the way to the end so he won’t have to walk far when he gets to Piccadilly, and he ends up having to sit next to a family of three, an exhausted mother scolding her two young children and trying to get them to sit still. Calum offers her a small smile, wishing he’d brought a book or his Walkman or something, and settles for staring blankly out of the window to the other side of the four-year-old girl on his left, trying to make out shapes in the inky darkness of the night so he doesn’t have to focus on his thoughts.

It turns out not to matter much, though, because even when the train’s whipping through the countryside and the children are still kicking up a fuss about something or other, Calum can’t focus on anything at all, zoning out entirely and feeling a bone-deep tiredness seeping through him, gluing him to his seat. He prefers it that way, though, prefers that he doesn’t have to feel anything but an echo of guilt for a while, lets it steal over him as he closes his eyes and tips his head back against the seat.

He must fall asleep for a while, because it feels like no time at all before a bustle of commotion wakes him up, and he finds everybody on their feet, patting their pockets and reaching for coats and bags. He blinks a few times, rubs his eyes, and then stands up, fumbles around in his pocket for his ticket as he files out of the train with everyone else. It’s surprisingly cold in Piccadilly, and he draws his coat around himself as he swerves around the mother and kids to beat them to the barriers, shoving his ticket in and stepping through. It feels like another threshold, like he's crossing back from a dream world into the real world, and he tries not to think about it too hard as he heads out to the bus stop.

The bus journey back home is cold and expensive, and by the time Calum gets home he thinks he might be in danger of losing a few of his limbs to the frosty air. It’s toasty warm inside the house, though, and there’s a plate of chicken and rice covered in cling film waiting for him on the kitchen counter, and Calum sticks it in the microwave, listens to the muffled sound of the TV floating out from the living room as he waits for his food to finish before taking it out to the table.

The sound of the microwave dinging seems to have alerted his mum to his return, though, because no sooner has he sat down at the table than she's appeared in the doorway.

“Where’ve you been?” she asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“London,” Calum mumbles, through a mouthful of chicken and rice, and scoops another forkful in, just for good measure.

“To see Michael?” Calum falters, and then nods, averting his gaze. His mum sighs, loaded with something heavy that Calum decides he doesn’t want to pick apart. “And?”

“And what?”

“What happened?” Calum swallows, and shovels another loaded forkful of food into his mouth.

“Nothing,” he says, and hopes she’ll attribute the way he winced at the evasiveness of his tone to the fact the food is really fucking hot.

“Calum,” she starts, in that I’m about to give you a lecture voice that only parents (and Noel) can really manage, and Calum swallows again, chokes a little as the un-chewed food almost gets stuck in his oesophagus, and shakes his head.

“Don’t,” he says, a little sharply. “I’m twenty-two, mum.” She sighs again, a little exasperated this time.

“I know, but you’re still my kid,” she says. Calum inhales deeply, and closes his eyes.

He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to have to explain every single tiny movement he makes, not every time he comes home. He doesn’t want to be monitored whenever he comes or goes, doesn’t want to have to answer to anyone. He’s not used to it anymore, not after so long on tour; he’s used to crashing into hotel rooms with a bagful of white powder and a body full of booze, one or two or maybe even three loud and brash Mancunians in tow, vision hazy around the edges from the weed he’s just taken a few hits of, used to sleeping three hours on a bus and waking up in a different city to the one he’d fallen asleep in. It feels oddly claustrophobic, now, coming home. He loves it, loves seeing his mum and his dad and eating proper meals and getting to potter around the house and go down the pub with Liam, but he’s outgrown it as a lifestyle. He’s too big for that little room upstairs, now, too big for this two-up two-down, maybe even too big for Manchester.

“I’m going to look at houses,” he blurts, before he’s even thought about it. A flash of something crosses his mum’s face, but she schools her features into something encouraging before he has a chance to really interpret it.

“That’s a good idea,” she says. “You’re old enough to be gone, now.” Calum nods, and brings another forkful of food to his mouth.

“In London,” he adds, and his mum blinks at him for a moment.

“Well, I suppose it makes sense,” she says, sounding far too brisk, like she’s forcing it. “That’s where the music industry is, isn’t it?” Calum nods.

“Noel and Liam are moving down, too,” he says, and she raises her eyebrows.

“That’s a recipe for disaster,” she says shrewdly, and Calum shakes his head.

“No, not together,” he says.

“Oh,” she says. “Well. You should probably still look for somewhere further away from them.” Yeah, he probably should.

(He won’t, though.)

“Yeah, maybe.” He’s almost finished his plate of food, wishes she would fucking leave, so he doesn’t have to have the rest of this conversation with her. She seems to get it, though, just sighs again, and pushes herself off the doorframe.

“Let us know if we can help with anything,” she says gently, and Calum throws her a tight smile as she leaves.

He’s not really sure where that came from. Okay, he’s been thinking about moving out for a while, but not in any concrete way; it’s very much been conceptual, something that he thinks he should probably do, but hasn’t been bothered to think about beyond that, something that’s stayed very firmly at the back of his mind. It feels right, though, he realises. He’d sort of thought it would be frightening, something that he was doing because he felt he had to rather than because he wanted to, but he feels oddly settled after saying it to his mum, like he's been making do in the dark and now he's turned on the light. It'll be good for him, he thinks, to live on his own.

Plus, he thinks, as he scrapes his chair back from the table, gathering up his plate and cutlery, Liam could probably do with a set of eyes on him, couldn’t he? And the fact that Kentish Town is close to Camden has absolutely nothing to do with it.

-------

Calum’s woken up at ten the next morning by a knock at the door.

“Mm?” he mumbles, not entirely sure whether he’s actually awake or not yet, and the door opens a crack to reveal his mum.

“Noel’s on the phone for you,” she says, and throws him a significant look that he chooses not to interpret. What the fuck does Noel want at ten in the morning?

“Tell him I’ll call him back,” he says, and she purses her lips.

“Tell him yourself,” she says, and tosses the handset at him. He squawks, flinching to avoid getting a hunk of plastic to the head - she’s never had the greatest aim - and then picks up the receiver that’s landed (painfully) on his forearm.

“What?” he says, rubbing his eyes.

“What were you really doing in London?” Jesus Christ. Straight to the fucking point.

“Running errands.”

“Bullshit.” Calum sighs.

“What the fuck d’you want me to say?” he says tiredly.

“You looked like you’d seen a fucking ghost when we came over,” Noel says.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you, was I?”

“You knew we were going to be in London. Liam says he told you.” Fuck’s sake.

“London’s a big fucking place, though, isn’t it?” Calum says. “Still didn’t expect to see you there.”

“Cut the fucking shit, Calum. I know who lives in Camden.” Calum’s blood runs cold. Shit. He should have known that they would have seen them in the chippy, should have made Michael leave faster, hide his face, turn away, anything. All it would have taken would have been one errant look from Liam, and the cat would have been out of the bag.

“Why the fuck are you so convinced this is some kind of conspiracy?” Calum bites out. Fight fire with fire, he thinks. Works for Liam, doesn’t it?

“I’m going to give you one chance to be honest with me,” Noel says. His voice is dangerously even, too controlled, that sort of wound-up serenity he gets a minute before he explodes, and Calum can’t even swallow, can’t get anything past the lump suddenly in his throat. “Were you or were you not seeing Thom Yorke?” Calum stops.

What?

“What?” he says. “No, I- what? What? I don’t even fucking know the bloke.”

“You spoke to him at Glastonbury, didn’t you?” Noel says, utterly hostile. Calum blinks.

“That was- that was six months ago.”

“So?” Noel sounds like he’s bristling. “First Blur, now Radiohead? Are you just working your way through our competition? Were you fucking him too?” There’s a bitter edge to his voice, and Calum’s mouth drops open as he tries to process what Noel’s accusing him of.

What?

“What the fuck?” Calum says incredulously. “I’m not fucking Thom Yorke. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“You’d better be fucking certain about that, Calum, because-” Noel starts warningly, but Calum cuts him off.

“Jesus Christ, Noel, I’ve spoken to him once. I don’t know where the cunt lives. Why the fuck do you know where he lives?” There’s a pause.

“Alright,” Noel says, still tinged with suspicion, like he can’t quite let go of the idea that Calum had snuck to London to visit Thom fucking Yorke.

“You’re fucking insane,” Calum says, and doesn’t stop the derisiveness from leaking into his voice. Who the fuck rings someone at ten in the morning to accuse them of sleeping with a random bloke they haven’t seen in months? Noel’s acting like a fucking jealous ex, or something.

“I’m insane?” Noel says, a little coldly. “You’ve got previous, mate.” And yeah, that’s fair enough - more than fair enough, because Calum is going behind Noel’s back, is betraying his best friend and his band - and the thought of it makes the guilt chase the anger out of his veins, makes him slump back into his pillow and rub a hand over his eyes.

“Christ, Noel,” he says wearily. “You need to stop taking this shit so seriously. Let the music speak for itself.” Noel barks out a laugh.

“I take it seriously because none of the rest of you do,” he says.

“Just fucking relax,” Calum says.

“I’ll relax when I’ve made my millions,” Noel says. “Until then, you can get your fucking arse in the studio and make me some money.” Calum rolls his eyes.

“You snort all your money away,” he says.

“So?” Noel says. “Just have to make me more, then, won’t you?” Calum can’t help but huff out a laugh at that.

“You fucking idiot,” he says, but the smile playing at his lips makes it come out fond, and when Noel laughs this time, it’s soft and pleased.

“Aye,” he says. “But I’m no Liam.”

Well. He’s got a point.

-------

Christmas comes and goes without much fanfare, which is just how Calum likes it, and what he needed after all the months of touring.

He gets up early, yawning and rubbing at his eyes as he slaps a hand on his alarm clock to shut it up, and spots a tiny little stocking at the foot of his bed, despite the stern look and the you’re almost twenty-three, Calum, you’re too old for stockings his mum had given him the night before . He grins, stifling another yawn as he empties it onto his bed, collects the little chocolate coins that spill out and unwraps the small present to find a little travel-sized bottle of his favourite aftershave. It makes him smile, that even though he’s a fucking rockstar in the making now, his mum still buys him aftershave, and he tucks the little bottle into his still-packed suitcase so he won’t forget it when they leave for Scotland on Boxing Day.

His parents are both already up when he gets downstairs, showered and dressed and ready to help with cooking dinner, and he throws his dad a quick merry Christmas before heading into the kitchen where his mum is humming along to the tune blasting from the radio.

“Morning,” he says, and she whips around, throws him a cheery smile as she puts something in the oven. “Thanks for the aftershave.”

“What d’you mean, thanks?” she says, a twinkle in her eye. “Do I look like Father Christmas?” Calum tuts and rolls his eyes, presses a kiss to her cheek, and reaches for the carrots she’s been peeling.

“What needs doing?” he asks, and she smiles at him, starts telling him that after he’s done with the carrots he should get some sprouts out of the freezer, please, and then fetch some of that wine from outside - the good wine, mind, Calum, and I know you drank the really good wine and thought we wouldn’t notice - and Calum just grins sheepishly, nods along to what she’s saying as he slices up the carrots, hums along as she switches to talking about Janet and how she’s got a baby on the way now.

He’s halfway through chopping potatoes when the all-too-familiar drum beat of Supersonic starts up on the radio, a little fuzzy from the static. He starts, his heart lurching with adrenaline, and turns to his mum.

“That’s us,” he says excitedly, but she’s already reaching for the volume on the radio, turning it up and beaming.

“That’s you, isn’t it!” she says, sounding even more excited than him. “I like this one, actually. It feels very optimistic.” Calum bites the inside of his cheek, looks back down at his potatoes to try and stop himself laughing. Yeah, it was written while Noel was high as a fucking kite on coke; no wonder it sounds optimistic.

“I like it too,” he says, grinning as Liam’s voice starts filling the room, raw and velvet and a little grimy, just how Calum likes it. Only fucking rock ‘n’ roll star there is, now, me, Liam would say, if he were here, and Calum would roll his eyes, and Noel would probably cuff Liam upside the head, and Bonehead would laugh, and Tony would shake his head and look the other way. God, Calum loves his band, loves their dysfunctional dynamic, loves every bit of the coke and the booze and the fighting and the laughing and the tiny moments of peace where Liam’s curled up against him, fast asleep, and Noel’s throwing him an exasperated but fond look from across the room.

( You don’t love it enough to be honest with them, though, a little voice in his mind tells him, but he pushes it into the back of his mind with as much force as he can muster. Not on Christmas. He deserves one day without guilt, however much of a cunt he’s being.)

They ring Mali after dinner before the Queen, because it’s pushing on for time back in Sydney and his dad sagely points out that she’ll be too drunk to hold a proper conversation once it hits midnight. She’s already well on the way there, shouting and laughing merrily down the phone, but it just makes them all laugh, makes Calum’s heart ache a little bit, but not in a way he particularly minds. He misses her, but he knows he’ll see her soon enough.

After an already fairly lengthy catch-up, his mum wants to speak to her about something to do with her rent which neither Calum nor his dad particularly care about, so they head into the living room and start sorting out potential VHSs to watch that evening. They’re in the middle of arguing about whether or not Blackadder is an appropriate Christmas show when Calum’s mum appears in the doorway, holding out the phone in her hand.

“Mali wants to talk to you,” she says, and Calum scrambles to his feet, grabs the handset off her and heads into the kitchen, hoping his mum won’t follow, will let the two of them have a moment of privacy.

“Hello?” Calum says, throwing a glance over his shoulder to check his mum’s not following. Sure enough, she’s tutting at his dad, telling him Blackadder isn’t a Christmas show, David, be serious, please, so Calum turns into the kitchen, doesn’t bother turning the light on, just leans against the counter in the dark.

“How’s my baby brother?” Mali asks cheerfully, and Calum grins, and shakes his head.

“I’m good,” he says. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Heard you on the radio today,” Mali says, and Calum’s stomach flips. They’re playing Oasis in Australia? Fucking hell.

“You did?”

“Yeah. Sounds really fucking good, actually.” Calum grins.

“‘Course it does,” he says. “It’s me, innit?” Mali laughs, bright and tinny in his ear.

“You’re spending too much time with those Gallaghers,” she tells him. “Where’s my shy little brother got to?”

“Gone with all the coke and booze,” Calum says, and Mali snorts.

“Fair enough,” she says. “How’s the rockstar life treating you, then? Number one album, isn’t it?”

“Fastest-selling debut album in British history,” Calum says, and Mali whistles lowly.

“Am I supposed to be impressed?”

“Yeah, think so.”

“Alright, then, I’m impressed,” she says flippantly, and Calum huffs out a laugh. “What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?”

“Y’know, fame, and all that. Sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll. Although I’d rather not hear about the sex, if it’s all the same to you.” Calum snorts.

“Good,” he says, “it’s good. Weird, though, getting asked for autographs, and that. Touring’s strange, too. But it’s good. And I’m glad I’ve got my band with me.”

“Good to know someone’s glad,” Mali says. “I bet the rest of the world aren’t glad to have those two delinquents running wild. Mum and Dad don’t know about the number of hotels you’ve been kicked out of, do they?”

“No,” Calum says warningly, “and they’re not going to find out.”

“No, no, I’ll toe the line, Cal,” Mali says breezily. “For a price.”

“Get fucked,” Calum says, but he’s grinning.

“C’mon, you must be fucking loaded by now,” Mali says, but she’s grinning too, just trying to wind him up. “I mean, you played Glastonbury, right? That was a big fucking lineup. Pretty much anyone who’s relevant was there, if my boss is to be believed. She might just be saying that because she was there, though.” Calum’s face drops.

“Yeah,” he says, and bites his lip. He should tell her about Michael. She knew, back then, knew better than almost anyone, and she should know now, really. “I, uh,” he starts, and then licks his lips, and swallows. Mali just waits, though, knows him well enough to know that it’s going to be something important, and Calum takes a deep breath to steady himself. “I saw Michael.”

“Clifford?”

“Yeah.” There’s a pause.

“I wondered how long it’d take,” Mali says, and she sounds a little mournful. It makes Calum blink, makes him frown as he thinks - more than a little upset - what the fuck? She knew?

“You knew? About him being in Blur?”

“‘Course I knew. I’m in the music business, aren’t I? I’m in Australia, Cal, not on the fucking moon.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Mali sighs.

“I was trying to protect you,” she says. Calum grits his teeth.

“Would’ve protected me more if you’d warned me before I ran into him at a fucking awards show,” he says.

“Shit,” Mali mutters, and Calum makes a yeah, fucking right sort of noise. “What happened?”

“Liam and Noel nearly fucking skinned me alive,” Calum says.

“With Michael, I mean.” Calum hesitates.

“Nothing,” he says. “Until Glastonbury.”

“What happened at Glastonbury?” Calum stares down at the floor, digs his thumbnail into the countertop behind him.

“Bumped into him,” he says. “And then he rang me a few days later. And then we- uh. We started calling. And I went to his house last week.” Mali’s silent for a long, long moment, so long that Calum would think that she might have got disconnected if it weren’t for the sound of her breathing, slow and considered in Calum’s ear.

“Oh, Cal,” she says, and the words come out sad and heavy. “Are you- are you…?” She trails off, clearly not sure how to phrase it, but Calum knows what she’s asking. He closes his eyes, brings a hand up to rub over his face, and shrugs, even though she can’t see him.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t know. Maybe. Not yet, though. But maybe.” Mali sighs again, sounding more sober than she has for the entire call.

“What do the rest of them think?” she asks. Calum swallows.

“They don’t know,” he admits.

There’s a pause. A long, long fucking pause, and Calum sort of wants to just hang up, sort of wants to laugh and say joking, just kidding, can you fucking imagine, wish I could see the look on your face, but he doesn’t. He clenches his fist, waits it out, and eventually Mali exhales heavily.

“That’s a dangerous fucking game,” she says, and Calum can’t help the humourless laugh that escapes him at that. Doesn’t he fucking know it.

“Yeah,” he says. “I just- I can’t tell them. They don’t understand.”

“Even Noel? He was always the reasonable one, wasn’t he?” Calum snorts, and it’s bitter.

“Not when it comes to the music,” he says. “And-” he cuts himself off, biting his lip. He hasn’t told anyone about him and Noel, not even Mali, because it didn’t matter at the time, and as soon as it started to matter, he had no one to tell. But it’s pertinent now, isn’t it, and it’d probably be a weight off his shoulders, so he takes a deep breath, and says: “And, uh, I fucked him.” There’s another pause.

“You- you fucked Noel?” Mali doesn’t quite sound like she believes him.

“I- well-” okay, she doesn’t need to know that technically Noel fucked him “-I mean, yeah. Years ago, though, like, three years ago. But- y’know.” He winces, cringing at his own words.

“Fucking hell, Cal,” Mali says, sounding a little awed. “You’ve made yourself a right fucking mess, haven’t you?”

“I know, I know,” Calum groans, tipping his head back. “It- it didn’t matter, y’know, it was just a one-time thing, but now with Michael back in the picture…” he trails off, and Mali sighs again.

“Does Michael know?”

“No.”

“Jesus, Cal, are you honest with fucking anyone in your life?”

“I- yeah, I just- look, it’d be presumptuous of me to tell him,” Calum says. “We haven’t- we only just made up last week.” Mali hums, a little disapprovingly.

“Well, I suppose,” she says, but she still doesn’t sound too happy about it. “You’ve got to tell your band, though. I’ve seen bigger bands fall apart for less.” Calum’s stomach flips. He knows that, and he knows full well that they could fall apart for less. But he also knows that he’s too far deep with the lie, now, could maybe have got away with the months of sporadic phone calls but hammered the final nail into his coffin in a chic house in Camden, that if he tells them now it all comes crashing down anyway.

“I can’t,” he says, and he hears the desperation in his own voice. “I can’t, Mali. I’d be-” he doesn’t even want to think about it. A life without Oasis, fine, whatever, he can go back to fixing fences and walls. But a life without Noel? A life without Liam? Calum can’t even stomach the thought of that, let alone the prospect of it being a reality. “I can’t. I can’t lose them.”

“What the fuck is the deal with you and those two?” Mali says, a little exasperated, because she knows he doesn’t mean Bonehead or Tony. “They’re nothing but trouble.”

“They’re my best friends,” Calum says, which is a bit of an understatement. Liam’s more of a part of the fabric that makes up Calum’s soul, but it feels a bit dramatic to say that out loud.

Mali’s quiet for a moment, and then she sighs again, long, heavy, resigned.

“Be careful,” she says gently. Her reluctant seal of approval.

“I’m trying.” Mali hums.

“Give my love to Mum and Dad,” she says. “I’m going to get high as fuck and try to forget that someone in my family has fucked Noel Gallagher.” The ghost of a smile crosses Calum’s lips at that.

“Night,” he says. “Love you.”

“Love you most, Cal.” There’s a click, and then she’s gone, nothing but the sound of Calum’s ragged breathing and his racing heart swelling in the silence of the dark kitchen.

Calum sets the phone down on the counter, then inhales deeply, staring up at the ceiling. Mali’s right. He’s made himself a right fucking mess.

Well, he thinks, a little bitterly. Merry fucking Christmas, eh?

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#malum #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #5sos slash #5sos fanfiction #its 23:59 i'm posting it on monday it counts #also i've been vibing so much w electronic music lately if anyone listens to that i want more recs #i'm big into vaporwave/synthwave/ambient/trip hop/big beat/acid house atm #but i'll try anything #also been very keen on the stone roses...what an album #as in the album. sugar spun sister has my whole heart

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sevenseasofrog · 6 years

Text

Lads ‘n Lasses

pairing: highschool!ben x fem!reader

summary: single sex schools are never boring

word count: 1,661

a/n: second part of the September chapter,, enjoy !!

here’s also some stuff that could make it less confusing (especially if you’re not familiar with lingo from north west england, i’ll probably add to this with each new chapter that comes out :)

St. Mary’s/ Mary’s- the all girls school the reader attends, quite middle class and full of students who like to make drama for their own entertainment, strong focus on languages and arts

Niamh & Maria - the reader’s two closest and longest friends

St. Peter’s/ St. Pete’s - the all boys ‘brother’ school to St. Mary’s, very laddish with a focus on rugby and science

Tram/Met - British version of an overground subway?

Shout - another word for a houseparty

Snide - unfair

Swear down - saying you are telling the truth

Chapter 2

The day went by fairly quickly without too much bother, you were mostly collecting new textbooks, discussing the course outlines and meeting your teachers for the year’s classes; so the workload was relatively light. You ate lunch outside, careful not to stain your white blouse with grass, and after lunch, you were given time to study in the library, not that there was much to study quite so early on in the term however, so really you just spent the two hours messing about, doodling and having hushed discussions with Maria and Niamh. What you didn’t mention however was the fact that you spent a solid chunk of this time scrolling through Instagram in an attempt to find any profile which could potentially belong to Ben. Eventually, you found it, and were washed over with a sense of relief followed by panic. Panic that you were becoming some sort of obsessive stalker, Christ, you’d only spoken to him for an hour that morning but were beyond convinced that there was more to Ben than you originally believed. These thoughts were rudely interrupted though by the school bell signaling the end of the day, which you welcomed with open arms. You peeled yourself off the chair which you had been sunken into for the past two hours and began to pack your bag, waiting for Maria and Niamh to do the same.

The three of you made a relatively slow exit out of school, continuing to discuss the events of the summer gone by and your hopes for the coming year. The sun was peeking through the leaves of the trees, which were still a luscious green and the air seemed to be filled with a strange nostalgia of summers gone by. Making your way towards the gate of St. Peter’s you stopped as you heard a voice.

“Oi oi, Fancy seeing you lot eh?!”

You stopped and were greeted by Lewis, he had been a long time friend who you loved dearly. As a friend, however, and unfortunately this feeling was not entirely mutual between the pair of you. He was always laid back and could have you in a fit of tears without trying, he had always come off as a bit of a jack the lad too, popular and well liked by everyone he met, as well as a cracking guitar player.

“Nice to see you too stranger!”, you shot back. Living considerably further away from school had never been too much of an issue. That was until you made a decent set of friends with people who cared about you however, and you had gone the last two weeks of the summer holidays relatively isolated- enjoying the peace of your own company. Three was now four, and you eventually reached the gate, where you were somewhat relieved to find Ben waiting for you.

“I was beginning to think you’d abandoned me” He looked up from his phone and gave a nervous smile, noticing that this time you were accompanied by a crowd.

“I would never!” You dramatically threw your arm to your forehead fake shock. “Honestly! one of you back me up I’m too nice for shit like that!” Turning around to see your friends looking rather amused.

“No! I believe that!” Ben threw his arms up in defence, “It’s just that it somehow took you nearly 15 minutes to walk no more than 200 meters down the road!”

“We’re slow walkers sometimes, Ok! we were gossiping about y’know…. girls n stuff!”

By this point the other four people around you really were looking at you with amusement smeared across their faces.

“y/n… did you know that you somehow manage to make yourself look like a real tit at times?” Niamh really was finding this whole thing a bit too funny, especially since she was quite to fast to catch onto the idea that you were eager to get to know Ben more.

“Right then, let’s go, I don’t really feel like hanging around here any longer…” Lewis spoke, “Tram?” he questioned.

“Tram”, everyone responded.

The walk with the four of you went extremely quickly, you had introduced Ben to everyone and he had instantly clicked into place with your friends. When you reached the platform Maria, Niamh and Lewis announced that they had to buy tickets, and swiftly made their way towards the bartered machines, once again leaving you and Ben alone together.

“You didn’t really think I would have left you did you?” a slight tinge of worry ran through your voice.

“Nah, I really can tell you’re not a bad person, well, not bad enough to abandon their new bestie at least!” He cracked a laugh, and a wave of relief passed over you. “Plus, it’s not like I don’t have your number… I could always have just terrorised you for the rest of time if you did”

“You cocky bastard!” You retorted, the pair of you smirking at each other. When the other three returned, you noticed how nicely you seemed to gel together as a group, and it was most rewarding to see that Ben had found a friend in Lewis after such a short space of time. When it arrived, the pair rugby tackled each other onto the tram, Ben nearly sweeping the taller boy off his feet, since Lewis had much more of a slender build, and was certainly skinnier than Ben, who almost appeared as a physical opposite. You had one boy with his blonde hair lightly gelled into a coif, while the other had a mousey brown, floppy bowl cut, and frankly looked a lot like he had stepped out of an Oasis gig in the 90s. You all found seats and continued with your chatter, the focus of the conversation mainly on Ben’s past life in Bournemouth, all of you asking questions and joking much more like a group of lifelong friends, rather than a few misfit teenagers and a newbie who most of them only met half an hour ago.

The time eventually came for the others to disembark the now quiet tram carriage. Maria and Lewis first, followed by Niamh a few stops later, leaving you and Ben alone yet again.

“It’s only like 4 more stops until we get off so you don’t have to put up with me too much longer.” You spoke, noticing the silence between the pair of you.

“Nah, you’re alright, I can cope with you for that long I reckon”, he looked up from his phone. “You managed to find me on instagram pretty quickly though” He flashed a grin.

“I’m not a stalker I swear down I just was really bored since I have double study every afternoon only I had nothing to study and no art coursework to do..” You blurted, failing to notice Ben’s ears prick up at the mention of art.

“So you’re an ‘artiste’ then?”

“Well, of sorts, I’m not amazing or anything but I like it enough to carry on doing it at school” Slightly embarrassed by his interest in your work, you ducked your head down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You are such a bullshitter oh my god! these are amazing!” Oh God, He was now scrolling through your instagram page, waving his phone in your face displaying a drawing you had done over summer.

“C’mon then y/n, what other secret hobbies do you have, we’ve only talked ‘bout me today and I literally don’t know anything about you other than that we get on at the same stop, where you go to school and that you genuinely are amazing at art…” It was nice to see that he seemed genuinely interested in you, and wasn’t as self centred as some of the other boys from St. Pete’s that you had spoken to.

“Sorry to disappoint Benny Boy but art’s all I really do, unless you could class going out and about as a hobby, but a mon humble avis, I don’t think it really counts”

“Hm, I’m not so sure, there’s definitely more to you, I know it. I might be blonde but I’m not ‘that’ dumb”. With that, the both of you were laughing again, and the silence that was seemed more of a distant memory.

The slow moving metro eventually reached your stop and you both hopped off, making your way towards the stairs off the platform.

“So, are you walking or getting a lift home or…” You trailed off, unsure of where to go next.

“I’m walking, I live just off Harbour Road. Yeah. Pretty sure that’s what it’s called” He announced, re-adjusting his bag slightly.

“Coool beans my guy, I’m basically at the top end of it so we’re heading the same way”

“Looks like I’m gonna be seeing you more often than I bargained for then eh?”

“It does appear that way, your observational skills are just superb” You spoke, dragging out the the final word for comedic effect.

Another 20 minutes of walking later and you eventually reached the front pathway of your house.

“Well then, this is my stop. Not gonna get lost without me are you?” You announced with a grin.

“I’d like to think I’ll manage” He spoke, stretching his arms up into the warm autumn air.

“See you tomorrow then yeah? Meet me here at 7:15?” God. Please say yes, you prayed internally

“See you tomorrow at 7:15” Ben replied, giving a final smile before turning on his heel and continuing down the road.

You unlocked the door and were greeted my your Mother, and following this continued your evening as normal, all thoughts of Ben pushed to the back of your mind and forgotten.

That night however, although you did not remember when you woke up the next morning, dreamt of a boy with beach blonde hair and electric green eyes. Blissfully unaware of the waterfall of emotion and chaos he was about to install into your life.

hope you enjoyed !!

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imaginemedreamingstuff · 7 years

Text

Special Agent - Special Love || D. H. part 3

A/N: sorry for not uploading for so long, life has been busy and I didn’t really feel like writing. but here is another part of my special agent fic! hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.7K

POV: Reader

MASTERLIST // PART ONE // PART TWO // PART FOUR

The ride to the house Dan and I had to observe was mostly silent. Agent Wolf had insisted on driving, I hadn’t expected anything else to be honest.

The situation was too serious to be listening to the radio so it was turned off. I had done observations before but not with Dan of course. Somehow that changed things, it made me feel a little bit…nervous?

The hideout of our two suspects turned out to be an old, almost crooked house. There were plants growing over the windows, making it look like nobody had lived here in at least twenty years. The only evidence that somebody had actually been here before were some dried out footprints in the mud that covered the way to the front door.

Dan parked our car on the side of the road a little bit further away from the house, so we wouldn’t look too suspicious but we still had a great view. We could tell that the building was empty, but both hoped that would change soon.

“And now we wait.” Dan said and almost let out a sigh.

“Do you already regret that you switched from the investigation team to this?” I asked him, teasingly.

“Of course not, observing is my specialty. Nobody can sit an a car and look out of the window as good as me. I’m a pro.” Dan answered confidently as he leaned back in his seat nonchalantly.

“Too bad, because I already regret that Agent Fox isn’t in the car with me right now.” I told him with a slight smirk on my face. The Irish lad was indeed good looking, nobody could deny that.

“Hey whoa!” Dan complained and tried to fake hurt but he couldn’t hide a real little pout.

“Jealous again?” I asked him and raised a brow.

“No…? You just needed an expert with you.” Agent Wolf tried to defend himself. “The switch had nothing to do with you or being jealous.” He explained with a hint of pink on his cheeks.

“If you say so, Howell.” I just said but rolled my eyes at the same time. God, teasing him was one of my favourite things to do.

I leaned back in my seat as well as we gazed out of the window in silence again. As the hours passed we kept in contact with the other team to update each other on any new information. At around 2pm I got out of the car for the first time to get the two of us lunch and some coffee.

“Anything new?” I asked Dan as soon as I returned, handing my him one of the hot cups.

He shook his head while taking a sip from the coffee I got him. “Nothing. Still nobody in sight.”

It was frustrating. I couldn’t help but feel a little bit useless, we had to stop innocent people from getting injured or worse but all we could do was stare out of this stupid car window. I just prayed that the other three agents were more successful than us.

“So…” Dan started. We both knew that this moment would come. At some point we just had to start talking to each other. Now it was time for small talk.

“Are you living by yourself?” Dan wanted to know. One could easily tell that he asked because he felt like he had to and not because he was interested in the answer.

“Yeah, but I got a cat though.” I answered, smiling slightly only out of politeness.

“Same, but I got a dog.” He responded.

“Oh how cute. I’ve been thinking about getting one but I’m sure Miss Meow wouldn’t be too happy about that.”

Now I liked where this conversation was going, it started to get less awkward.. but of course Dan had to ruin it.

“You have been single for pretty long now, right?” Dan asked, smirking mischievously.

I almost snorted in anger. He was truly unbelievable.

“So you’re just assuming I’m single now?” I asked him without batting an eye, a confident grin on my face.

I could hear him swallow hard as his eyes widened and his mouth fell open.

“Wait what, you’re seeing someone?!” He almost yelled at me, making me smirk wider.

“Don’t you think being jealous three times a day is a little bit too much, even for you?” I asked him teasingly.

“I-I-“ He started but couldn’t find the right words.

I couldn’t help but start to giggle slightly.

“C’mon, no need to speechless Danny. I’m not dating anyone right now.”

Dan let go of a deep breath and tried not to seem too relieved.

“Whatever, it’s not like I care.”

Our conversation kept going for a while and at some point we even turned the radio back on. When the sky got darker and darker outside I had to yawn for the first time. About half an hour later I could barely keep my eyes open although Dan seemed to be wide awake.

‘If only I hadn’t emptied my cup of coffee already’ was my last thought before I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

My body just shut down for what must have been at least an hour that felt like 5 minutes and a decade at the same time.

“Y/N” I could hear Dan whisper and something about his voice immediately let me know that something had happened or was happening.

I could feel his hands shake my shoulders gently at first but more vigorously with every second that passed.

My eyes shut open, the first thing I saw were his deep brown eyes that looked down at me. My ear was numb for leaning against his broad shoulder throughout the whole time. Oops…

“What?” I asked him as my heart started to beat faster.

The fact that Dan didn’t joke about how I fell asleep on him or that I had the wipe away a bit of drool on my chin was a sign that this situation was serious.

“There’s a car pulling up to the house, it might be them.” Dan explained quietly.

Although I knew that nobody could see us though the dark tinted windows of our car, I still felt the need to make myself smaller.

I sent a message to our boss, letting them know about the current happenings and asked for a back up team to help us just in case.

Two young adult men got out of the car. They were talking to each other as they walked up the muddy path towards their house.

Although we mostly saw the back of their heads we could tell that those men were actually the people we were looking for. It was them who planned the attack in the middle of London.

Agent Wolf and I immediately slipped back into our roles as agents. I readjusted my bulletproof vest and checked the gun in my holster.

We shot each other serious and determined glances.

“We’ll go in now. There’s a possibility that they’re armed, so we got to be careful but fast. Fortunately we have the element of surprise on our side and another team will be here in a maximum of three minutes.”

I nodded to signal Dan that I understood.

“Right, let’s go.” I said and took in a deep breath before I carefully opened the car door and stepped outside.

We made our way over to their hideout, as soon as we got there, there was no knocking on the door and asking them to come out. We just went it. The door burst open under Dan’s weight when he threw himself against it.

Sprinting into the building we pulled our guns and searched the almost dark room for our suspects. We ended up finding them in a room upstairs. They jumped up in surprise when we pushed the door open.

“HANDS UP!” Dan shouted as he pointed his gun at one of them while I focused on the other.

From the corner of my eye I could see that at least one of them was armed and already reached for his gun. I tried to warn Dan, but didn’t know how.

Then everything happen too fast. Dan managed to tackle his opposer to the ground since he was much taller and obviously way better trained than him.

One down, one to go.

I wasn’t as lucky as agent Wolf though. The huge, slightly overweight man started running towards me, trying to attack me out of frustration.

While Dan was still busy handcuffing the guy he tackled, I watched the other big man sprint towards me. Once again I thought about all of the possible actions to escape this situation and came to a conclusion just in time.

I shot him in his leg.

“URGH” he yelled in pain as he fell to the ground, covering his bloody wound.

It would have been perfectly fine if he hadn’t reached for me with his free hand, making me fall as well.

I landed on the back of my head as pain shot through it like a lightning bolt. Everything went black for a few seconds and when I opened my eyes again our supporting team had just parked outside of the house.

Both of our suspects were handcuffed by Dan now and he had taken away their weapons.

Agent Wolf was kneeling next to me with a worried look on his face.

“Are you alright?” He asked me as he helped me to get up.

“Yes, just fell on my head when that bastard pulled me down with him. Now, I’m not that sorry anymore that I had to shoot him in the leg.” I joked and rubbed my temples.

When our supporting time arrived we handed the two suspects over to them and they took care of everything else.

“We got them, boss.” Dan said into the speaker of his phone as we walked out of the house, watching how the handcuffed men were lead off.

“Well done. You two really seem to work together quiet well. Once they arrive here, they’ll be questioned and taken into custody. You on the other hand can go take a rest.” The boss said, it was obvious how relieved he was.

Dan said a quick thank you before he hung up and we walked to our car next to each other. I was about to reach for the door handle when suddenly everything around me started spinning.

“Y/N!” I heard Dan shout my name but it sounded so distant like he was miles away.

I could feel Dan’s hands hold me, stopping me from falling to the ground. Him holding me was all I could remember before everything went black…

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looselucy · 7 years

Photo

January

“It’s almost gone.” Zayn studied the bruise on my face. The elevator pinged as we reached our floor and slumped out, shoving Zayn’s hand away from my face. Thankfully, they’d fixed the lift pretty quickly. Less walking was always good for me. “Either way, I’m not going out tonight.” I groaned. “Why?” He whined. “It’s a Wednesday night! You’re not in til one tomorrow. It makes sense that we go out and get really drunk.” “I look like shit because the side of my face is fucking yellow, and I bet you’ve already invited Harry out, haven’t you?” I turned around as I unlocked the door to the flat, seeing the predicted guilty look cross his innocent little face. I shook my head as we wandered down to the kitchen, tossing my bag outside my bedroom door.

“I might have.” He grumbled. “Well then I’m not fucking coming. I’m not going anywhere he’s going to be.” “That’s pretty difficult, since you live with him.” “Okay, I have to ask.” I turned around to face him as he fell onto the sofa. “Why are you sticking up for him?” He sunk so far into the fabric, putting his feet up and rubbing his hand over his freshly shaved face, though knowing Zayn it would probably be thick and full again in about two days. The way his facial hair grew was ridiculous. “I chose to get involved in that fight, Pip. So did Louis. You’re being selective with what you remember. He pushed me away. He didn’t even want us to talk. He tried to keep us out of it, and we chose to get involved. I jumped in because he’s my mate. He does feel bad.” I sighed as I turned back around and flicked the kettle on, picking out two mugs and really not wanting to reply. I knew Zayn had come to terms with the fact me and Harry weren’t going to be best pals, but it was getting difficult being in that living situation, where I wouldn’t even let myself be in the same room as him. “I know he does.” I groaned. “He wants to explain himself to you.” Zayn spoke numbly. “Explain what? That he got into a fight over the fact that this guy fucked some girl he wanted? And we all got hurt thanks to it? I don’t want to hear his excuses. Maybe I’ll stop going to my room whenever he’s around, but I’m not going to listen to him. I don’t have the time.” Mike strolled out of his room with a spring in his step, only wearing boxers. It forever surprised me how comfortable all the lads were in their skin. I saw them without clothes on just as often as I saw them with clothes on. “Hello you two. You brewing up?” He asked me, cup already in his hand. “I am! Do you want one?” “I’d bloody love one.” He skipped over, dropping the mug in front of me and bending down the considerable distance to give me a kiss on the cheek. “We going out tonight?” “I’m trying to convince Pip to come out, but she won’t go anywhere Harry goes.” Right on cue, the front door opened. I knew it would be Harry coming back from his run, I think we all did, so we just shut up. Rather than trying to think up some new kind of conversation or pretend we were talking about something else to cover our tracks, we just fell into an awkward silence. Harry was breathless as he stepped into the kitchen in his running gear, empty bottle of water in hand, his hair scraped into another pathetic bun. Never in the history of mankind had it been so obvious someone had just walked into a room with people talking about them. His gulp was so exceedingly loud; there was no way he didn’t know. “Pippa, can I talk to you?” He fumbled. “No.” “I really want to talk to you.” “Tough.” “Pippa, come on!” Zayn loured. The kettle finally clicked, but I’d had enough by that point, I certainly wasn’t in the mood to make everyone a cup of tea and play happy families. I spun on my heel and stormed away from all of them, hearing Zayn trying to call me back to them as I clomped away. “I’m going to meet Louis.” Was all I said, picking my bag up off the floor and swinging it back over my shoulder. I had zero plans with Louis, but by the time I was in the elevator my phone was in my hand, praying he would answer, praying he would be free. I guess it was just how forced I felt. Everyone was totally fine with Harry, everyone ignored all the shitty evidence we had piling up against him and just expected me to forgive him. Maybe I should have heard him out, but I knew he would just spew excuses into my frazzling brain and I didn’t want to hear it. The elevator bulked again as I headed to the bottom floor, my arm held tight to my body under my breasts, my bottom lip trapped between my teeth, and I didn’t even realise I was shaking, it was so minuscule, so sharp. “Alright, babe.” Louis’ voice calmed me. “Can I come round to yours?” I mumbled. “Sure.” + + + Louis was cooking for me. Cooking might be pushing it, to be honest, but Louis had sought out and bought a meal deal for two, from Marks and Spencer no less, and he had put it into the oven very successfully. “You know how to woo a girl.” I giggled as he shut the oven door. “Years of practice.” He cracked his fingers. I couldn’t stop blushing as he wandered over to me. He was in his boxers and a Stone Roses t-shirt, which was fitting since he had Fools Gold playing in the background as he bobbed over in time with the tune, his hair once again a frantic mess on the top of his head. He leant in and kissed me tenderly, before going back over into the kitchen to do some washing up. I figured that was what he was like after sex, still lively and excited and needing to move around. I was more than happy to crash on his sofa, completely dead. “We going out tonight?” He spoke loudly as he glanced my way. “Zayn invited me.” “I don’t know.” I sighed. “I don’t want to spend any more time with Harry Styles than is absolutely necessary.” “Pippa, sorry to point out the obvious, but you live with him.” “Yep. And before you start, I’m also aware that he’s Zayn’s best mate and Zayn is also my best mate, but I feel like I can still try to avoid him as much as I can.” “Well, what about next year?” He asked. I furrowed my brows together to a tight line, because even the mere mention of ‘next year’ in the month of January was slightly baffling, but I had no idea why he was mentioning it. He laughed at my apparent daze. “What?” “You wanna get a house with Zayn, right?” “Yeah?” “Well, don’t you think Zayn will want to get a house with Harry, too?” How I hadn’t thought of that before was completely beyond me. Obviously that was what Zayn would want. How had I not figured that out? I turned away from Louis and stared blankly in front of myself, my stomach churning with the realisation. “Oh. Shit.” I flabbergasted. “Oh no. I thought I would be done with him completely in May. I’m going to have to live with him next year. What about the year after? Holy shit I’m never getting rid of him.” Louis laughed down to his soapy hands, shaking his head at me. I could tell he found my state completely endearing, but honestly, it felt like I was having a breakdown. ”For the foreseeable future, no, you’re not.” He chuckled. “So maybe it’s better to just, kind of deal with it. Don’t let him ruin your time at uni, y’know? He’s not the worst person in the world. That Josh guy that punched you is the true bellend of the situation. Trust me. Even when he’s two floors up I can feel his vibes reaching me. He’s a dick. I was happy to get in on that fight.” I pouted to myself, and I couldn’t help but take in that Louis, even with his deep purple bruise that mirrored my own, his lip that was still healing itself, was on Harry’s side. Taking everything into consideration, I couldn’t be on his side, but I definitely couldn’t ignore him forever. My mind debated with itself at a million miles a minute as Louis walked back over to my silent self, bending down to get right in front of my eyes, tucking his tiny lips into his mouth, eyes twinkling. I leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose, which untucked his lips and made him grin, eyelashes fluttering. He continued staring like he wanted an answer. “What?” I groaned through a smile. “We going out tonight or what? I promise to take up your attention all night so Harry can hardly bother you.” I nodded. He kissed me. I swooned. It was wonderful. I had to get over it. No matter how much the whole thing bothered me, Harry was a pretty solid part of my life. That thought made me want to rip my hair out. However, Louis was right, there was no point letting him ruin this time for me. I would keep a healthy distance, rather than an unhealthy mile between us, and the two of us would learn to live with one another. We’d have to. I figured as long as I didn’t get punched in the face again, things could be okay. Relatively so. We ate together as soon as the food was ready, and by the time we had eaten and Louis had dressed himself, it was almost time to go and drink round at our flat. So I shimmied back into my jacket and we were on our way. For once, I was actually kind of hoping for a run in with Harry in the shower-room, just so I could say I was willing to be civil with him, to not be at his throat, but to barely even talk to him. I don’t know how I thought that would ever work, but I was willing to try. Louis locked his fingers with mine as we went through the front door to his flats, me giggling about some joke he had made as he locked up behind himself, his eyes so crinkled they couldn’t possibly be called crow’s feet, more like ostrich feet. Our laughter dropped pretty quickly when we heard a voice behind us. “Tommo?” We both turned around and my eyes came into contact with the boy who made them blur only days before, the boy who had left a yellow banana shaped fucking stain just next to the eyes he had poisoned. I thought all my sour feelings about the evening had been put towards Harry, but seeing his smug little face as he dropped down the final step and wandered towards us, eyeing me up in the process, made me realise that the feelings of anger I had towards Harry about Sunday night were nothing compared to the ones I had for him. “The fuck do you want, Josh?” Louis scowled. “Are you the girl I hit?” He ignored Louis. “Yeah, she is, so if I were you I’d back the fuck off, now.” Louis raged, nearing him. “Are you like, one of Styles little minions or something?” He ridiculed. “I have my own fucking issues with you.” “And what are those?” “Other than the fact you’re a fucking prick, you hit a girl and you seem completely unfazed by it.” Louis’ face was going red, and I still hadn’t said a damn word. I hated that I was threatened by him, I hated that I wasn’t there standing up for myself and putting my foot in where it should have been. The worst part was, the one thing that kept repeating in my mind was the name fucking Pip-Squeak, and for once it felt just as fitting as Harry made it out to be. Josh turned his head my way. “Look, I am genuinely sorry for hitting you. That wasn’t my intention at all. I wanted to hit Louis.” “Fuck you.” I spat finally. “What do you want?” Louis spat alongside me. “Just wanted to ask you to tell Styles that if he wants a fight, I’m ready for him.” “Oh fuck off, Josh. You’re a cunt.” Louis scowled, taking my hand and beginning to drag me away. I tripped over myself as we left, hearing him chuckle to himself loudly as we escaped his presence, and honestly, the only thing I could think was that I wished I had twatted him one and called it a day. If Harry was going to start a fight with anyone, I was really glad it was him. + + + I hated it when Harry and Zayn didn’t hide their blatant drug taking. In the smoking area we had been in when the fight broke out, the two of them were bent over the nearest table doing a line of coke, and not a single person batted an eye. In a weird way, I half expected Harry to be making attempts to get in my good books. I’m not sure why, because I knew he didn’t give a flying fuck about my opinion of him, but I figured maybe he would at least take that behaviour somewhere else, somewhere I couldn’t see. He didn’t care though. Why would he? I checked around me for the fourth time to see if anyone cared about the illegal activity going on in front of them as Zayn and Harry moved back upright, wiping their noses with the backs of their hands perfectly in time with one another, but there was nothing. No reaction from anyone. Louis still had his hand in mine as he spoke to some lads near the door, laughing and joking away. Tally had been all over some guy all night, but every ten seconds she would check over her shoulder to see if Harry was looking. He never was. Mike was half asleep on one of the seats around the table that Harry and Zayn had just used. As soon as we walked in, the girl he had been sleeping with was at the bar with another boys lips on hers, and Mike, being the hopeless romantic he was, had scurried into the toilets, come out a couple of minutes later with eyes as red as tomatoes, and proceeded to get excessively drunk. I have to say, I wasn’t having the easiest time on my feet. “Wanna dance?” Zayn asked me. “Mmhm.” He moved in closer to say something in private, which he still had to shout thanks to the sheer volume of the place. “Will you talk to Harry?” “Please don’t make me, Zayn. It’s better like this. At least we’re not at each other’s throats.” He wiped his nose again and looked down to the floor, just nodding in response. I felt guilty, seeing him like that, so disheartened by my lack of efforts. He just shrugged and started walking inside, and that meant my gaze was automatically aligned with Harry’s who was waiting glumly behind him. “Pip-Squeak-” He tried. “I met Josh today.” I interrupted. “Oh! Yeah?” “He’s a prick.” I simply stated. “Yeah. He really is.” “But I don’t think it was worth the fight.” “I know you don’t. But I wasn’t just fighting him because he’s a prick. I have my reasons.” “Yeah I heard.” I derided. “You did?” He seemed baffled. “How?” “Louis told me.” “Louis knows?” I finally unlocked my hand from Louis’, feeling him gaze at the back of my head for a second before he went back to his conversation, leaving me and Harry to it. “I think most people who live in that building know.” I folded my arms over my chest. “I don’t think so, Pip-Squeak.” I bit my tongue, though all I really wanted to do was punch him for using that ridiculous name for the millionth time. But by that point, he wasn’t necessarily saying it to annoy me, that was just what he was used to, that was his name for me. I still hated it, but I knew he wasn’t saying it every single time just to get a rise out of me. It was habit. “Whatever.” I huffed. “No. Tell me what you think you know.” I could see how agitated he was getting, and I couldn’t help but mirror him, letting his state work me up. His hands were on his hips and he gazed down to me like I was a total idiot. He wiped his nose on his shoulders and stretched out the skin of his face, which probably didn’t help how much he annoyed me. “Didn’t he shag a girl, who you wanted to shag? That’s why you got mad?” His face dropped a little, staring at me, trying to take in what I just told him. It was hard to read his expression, whether what I had just told him was exactly how it was or if there was more to it. He didn’t let much on. “That’s what people think?” He asked. “Isn’t that what people know?” I bit back at him. Louis came and stood back by my side and kissed me cheek harshly, not realising we were slap bang in the middle of something, but why would he? Louis probably thought he was saving me from an upcoming brawl thanks to the fact it was me and Harry. Harry looked at him and then dropped his head and clear his throat, before letting out a big sigh and looking up to me. “Yeah. That was it.” Was all he said. He had wanted the opposite reaction from me, he had wanted me to stick by my guns and just go along with him admitting to that. But it had the complete opposite reaction. I knew he was lying. I just didn’t understand why. It was silent for a long time, long enough for Louis to grab at my arm again, breathing onto my neck as me and Harry stared one another out. “You wanna go back in?” Louis questioned. I finally turned away, looking to my side to see Louis with a small smile on his lips, and I could see him itching to ask about what had just been said between me and Harry. “Okay.” I whispered. Louis linked our fingers back together, and I felt comfortable again as he lead me inside. I had this urge to look back over my shoulder to see if Harry was looking, to see if he was following, but I didn’t, I kept my head forward and gripped Louis’ hand a little tighter. + + + I felt like I was going to throw up. The whole lecture my head had been spinning and my stomach churning. We had been studying John Cooper Clarke poems, which was brilliant and I wished I could have shown a little more enthusiasm since JCC was so fucking brilliant with words, but not much could bring me out of the self-inflicted misery. Ed was jotting down a million notes a minute in the copy of the book he had bought, since he had actually looked at the list of books required and purchased every single one, which was not something many of us had done. My eyes un-blurred themselves as I lifted my head from the desk slightly, squinting my vision and forcing back a burp. “I like your new tattoo. When did you get that done?” My voice was in tatters. The night before had ended with my head, once again, in the toilet, Louis completely passed out in my bed as I spent at least two hours throwing up. After that, I fell asleep in the middle of my bedroom floor, just in my knickers. Full of class, as always. “I did it myself.” He whispered back to me, continuing to jot away. “Fuck off. Seriously?” I gawped. I grabbed his wrist, to which he huffed since I had stopped his incessant writing, glaring at me with tired eyes. “Yup.” “That’s amazing, Ed!” It was on the inside of his left wrist, a magpie, including the white and blue flick on the feathers. It looked like a professional had done it, definitely. The shading was stunning, the shape and pattern and everything about it was so beautifully done. I glanced up to the number 26 at the top of the same arm, wondering how that could have possibly be done by the same person less than two months apart. “Thanks.” He looked confidently down to it. “I’m pretty chuffed with it.” “I fucking hate you.” I suddenly choked. “What? Where did that come from?” “You could have done about twenty different degrees. English, Music, Art. Doesn’t fucking matter to you, does it? Stupid, talented bastard.” He laughed as he snatched his wrist back away from me, shaking his head, clearly accepting my weird form of compliment. By the end of the lecture, I could have been asleep, I’m not actually sure. There’s a big possibility I was asleep, it was more than likely, but who really knows. I groaned inwardly as I rose to my feet, grateful to have been down at the front this lecture because the thought of stairs was enough to make me hurl. Ed wrapped his arm around me for the short walk before we parted, helping me stay on my feet, not just because of the ice left on the floor from the snow which had melted away, but because that was just how delicate I was. He spoke more about his tattoo as we wandered towards our homes, and I just nodded along, staring at the beautiful work on his arm, and all too soon, it was time for us to part. “You be careful alright? No falling, no vomiting. Do your best, Pip.” “I’ll try.” “Have a good weekend.” “Meh.” My wrist flapped back and forth as an attempt at waving goodbye, shuffling down the correct path, ready to crawl into bed and hopefully not see the light of day until Sunday. The whole idea of Friday and Saturday was a no go for me. I wanted to skip straight from Thursday to Sunday, when everything would be better. As I wandered round the corner, so close I could almost feel the warmth of my bed, Harry came from the other direction, having spotted me much earlier than I spotted him. I cursed under my breath, before giving him a weak smile and opening the door to our building, waiting for him to step through first. “Oh. Cheers.” He mumbled. I couldn’t decide which was worse; having him wind me up and purposefully piss me off, or how we were with each other then. The not talking, the awkward interactions, the way we could barely look at each other. I actually figured it was better when we were winding each other up, at least there were occasions where I got a slight bit of pleasure from it. When I saw him press the button to the elevator, I debated going up the stairs, just to save us both, but one glance at the stairs and my stomach flipped. I shuffled in next to him, both of us standing as far apart as we could as Harry pressed the button, and the doors slowly shut. I puffed air into my cheeks and kept it there as we began moving upwards, bulking away as it usually did, clanking as we went. Then there was an almighty clunk, my stomach jolted up to my damn chest, and the whole thing came to a crashing standstill. Harry’s face dropped before I could even take in what was happening, pressing at the button that was supposed to open the door as I gripped my stomach, watching Harry press it over and over with no reaction whatsoever. “You have to be joking.” I gasped. After a few more whacks at the door button, Harry caved, and pressed the bright red one, signalling to someone, somewhere, that we were in trouble, even though we received no proof that anyone knew we were there. My phone was close to dying thanks to the fact I hadn’t plugged it in the night before, since I fell asleep on the floor. But before it died, I had rung Zayn and asked him to make sure someone came to help us. Honestly, I’m not sure he ever did anything other than just bend over laughing at the thought of me and Harry trapped in that stupid lift together.It was my idea of hell. An hour or so must have passed without a single word. By that point, we were both down on the floor, my head cradled in the corner of the box, my legs sprawled ahead of me, and Harry with his back pressed against the wall on my right, knees pointing towards the ceiling, being used as support for his arms that dangled out in front of him. It felt like I was in a movie. I just couldn’t conjure up something more typical than being stuck in a damn lift with someone I hated. Or maybe it was more like the beginning of a really bad joke. Someone, somewhere, was in control of my life, and making a complete mockery of me. Out of nowhere, Harry twisted his back and raised a hand to press at the door for the buttons again, but to no one’s surprise, nothing happened. He ran his hand through his hair before returning to his original position. I wondered if he had seen me staring at him and was choosing to ignore it, or if he really was just being dense. “Why did you lie last night?” I finally asked. It was like finally hearing a voice caught him off guard. He rapidly blinked a few times, stunned by the new noises before he gulped and replied. “What?” “What happened with Josh?” I asked. “Thought you’d made your mind up on that?” He huffed. “I know it’s just... You so clearly lied. It’s confused me.” He propped his head back against the wall, still looking at me with a pretty intense gaze, his eyes low and tired, chest heaving. “I didn’t want to say what happened in front of Louis.” He confirmed. “I haven’t actually told anyone what happened. I just... feel like you deserve an explanation. I dunno.” “Okay.” I mumbled. He ran a hand over his eyes and cracked his neck. I could tell how uncomfortable he was, and suddenly I was nervous. I had no idea what to expect from him, what the story was going to be. I could almost see the edge he was on as I folded my legs, leaning his way slightly, my throat tight. “I was... Shit. Okay… Everyone in my flat had gone on a night out, but I’d stayed in because like, I didn’t really get on with any of them. But I heard them all get back, Josh was as rowdy and loud as he always is, so they woke me up. He’s a dick.” “That’s why you had the fight?” He burst out laughing, because I had asked that question in all seriousness, even though the second it slipped out of my mouth I knew how stupid it was to ask that. I closed my eyes and chuckled through a deep breath, laughing at myself. Our chuckles slowly faded out together, and Harry was finally free to continue. “No, believe it or not.” He grinned, before he continued. “It was like an hour after they got back, and everything had gone quiet so I was like, trying to get to sleep. And, there was some banging coming on my wall. I tried to ignore it but then... I heard screaming. I heard the girl in the room next to mine just screaming and crying. I heard her yell for help and like... I was so fucking scared, but… I had to go. I honestly thought I was going to walk into her room and see her getting fucking murdered. But still, I opened her door and... Josh was there, all over her, trying to lift her dress up higher and she was like... Fuck. Sh-she was trying to push him off her, but there was no stopping him. I flipped, just seeing that. I completely flipped. I fucking dragged him off her, and just, went mad. I broke his nose, I remember one of his teeth coming out and dropping on the floor. Thankfully, Lily, the girl, dragged me off him after a while, or else… I dunno. But... yeah. I guess that’s it.” I couldn’t even find the words. I dropped my head, because I couldn’t even look at him. I think that was the first time my opinion of him changed, the first time I thought, he’s not all bad. I pressed my fingers against the bruise on my temple, and suddenly I kind of wished it was worse. I wished I had gotten in on that fight and punched him myself. I understood it, that sudden anger Harry felt as soon as he spotted Josh. It made sense to me. “Shit.” I heaved after some time. “So he comes up to me a few weeks later with his new teeth in like, I’m gunna take you to court you piece of shit. I told him good luck with that, and that me and Lily would see him there, with rape charges in hand. So he let it be. Still managed to get me kicked out but, I didn’t want to live with him anyway. Lily lives at home now, drives here instead.” Of course all anyone knew were the rumours. There was no way Harry or Lily would talk about that night openly, and neither would Josh. Those rumours must have stemmed from Josh, his way of trying to look like the good guy. But in a way, I felt like Harry was happy with that, that was why he had lied in front of Louis the night before. Harry would rather he came out in a bad light than have what happened to Lily revealed when she clearly didn’t want that. Suddenly, Harry Styles, the boy who I hated so fiercely, was on a pretty high pedestal I had never imagined I would put him on. “Did...” I mumbled over myself, wondering how to word my question. “Shit. Did he actually... y’know? Did he actually do it? Or did you stop him just before?” “I don’t actually know. She doesn’t talk about it. I think he just got close and… I managed to stop it before he… But he would have. So... I dunno. Shit. It feels good to talk about that… Get it off my chest.” “I can imagine.” I sighed. “Is she okay?” “Yeah, she’s good. I speak to her a lot now, she’s cool. And she’s alright. I think she was shook up for a while, understandably, but she’s doing loads better.” I felt like I had to concentrate on my breathing. I guess I was just trying to process all the information he had given me, trying to process the new light I was seeing Harry in. I felt like I owed him an apology. “I’m sorry I got so mad about the fight.” “Why?” “Because-” “Pip-Squeak, you had every right to be mad about the fact you got punched in the face. Even now you know the reason behind it. I didn’t want anyone else to get involved. Especially not you.” I decided not to ask about the ‘especially not you’ part, because I didn’t want to get annoyed about his comments of me ‘being a girl’ so I just nodded. “Okay.” I whispered. “Are we okay?” He suddenly asked, the pitch of his voice raising. “Huh?” “I know we’re not mates or anything, but, we have to be better than this, right? It’s so fucking awkward. I have a hard enough time with Tally. I’d prefer it if we went back to slyly making digs at each other.” “We were never very sly.” I hushed. “No.” He grinned down to the floor. “I guess we weren’t.” “But... yeah. We were doing pretty well on Sunday before the fight.” “We were.” He agreed. “We can do that, we can... tolerate each other.” “Yeah, we can.” He smiled kindly to me, which I couldn’t help but return, kind of wishing his smile had been a little bigger so I could see that dimple I hadn’t seen since Sunday night, but it didn’t quite reach that stage. Then, we fell back into the silence we had become accustom to at the beginning of this ordeal. Two more hours passed in there without us saying a single thing to one another.

#I'm working on editing ten #and if it's ready I'll share tomorrow #because I'm a top gal #WHO LOVES FEEDBACK #1dff #Harry Styles #BB9

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