Luke Imagine: Frat
“What’s wrong, princess? Not having fun?”
His breath is tainted with alcohol, a half-empty red cup in
his hands and a haze already glossing over his eyes.
He leans in close, close enough for you to see all the
shades of the sky in his eyes, close enough for the small bristles of his chin
to brush yours.
He never really did have a good understanding of personal space before, but intoxicated –
you’d have better luck teaching an elephant how to do a backflip.
“Watching people get smashingly wasted? Oh, I’m having the
time of my life.”
The words are dripping sarcasm from your lips as you move
your head back to avoid his rancid breath.
Somewhere in the next room you can hear the familiar chorus
of drink drink drink followed by the
loud pounding of tables with background clink
of something shattering to the ground – probably a vase, perhaps a drunken
partygoer going down with it – and the chanting breaks into a roar of people
cheering, wild hollering and crazed whoops accented by throaty laughter.
You’re surprised Luke isn’t there with them – he’s the first
to get up on the table with his slogged dance moves, spilling alcohol
everywhere and pulling up three girls with him on a too-cramped makeshift
He’s not one to miss up on a spotlight of attention, and you
don’t know why he’s chosen to give that up in an attempt to win just yours
Probably the alcohol. Spiked, you’d bet. Possibly even by
You wouldn’t put it past him, in all honesty.
“Not enjoying your throne, princess?” He slurs, stumbling to
you and nearly falling in the process, saving himself with a last-minute
awkward twirl. “You can always sit on me, if you’d like.”
His lips split into a wide grin, much too proud of himself.
“You’re disgusting, Luke. Go try that on some other girl who’s
drunk enough to find that charming.”
“I happen to be – “ he looks at you with the steady gaze of
a drunk man, hands flying up to his head in a painfully awkward pose “ – extremely charming.”
“More like extremely
“That too. But also charming.”
You roll your eyes and he shakes a pointed finger at you,
comically exaggerated in his movements as he shakes his head – something that
seemed to make him dizzy, judging by the way he slanted to one side when he
tried to walk towards you.
“You know, I asked
you to come. You should be thanking me.”
“Michael asked me to
come and I only came to this stupid party because that was the only way I was
getting his calc notes.”
“Well, I asked Michael to ask you to come, so technically I asked you to come.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“I said to Mikey boy to ask that pretty girl in his calc
class – haha, that’s you – to come because number one, you need to get your
head out of that disgusting textbook, and two, I wanted you to.”
“So what, you asked Michael to invite me to your frat party
so you could fuck the one girl you haven’t laid your greasy hands on?”
“Number one, you’re the one who mentioned fucking so just
remember that later tonight, and number two, I moisturize every night so I can
guarantee you my hands are not greasy.”
“You’re a pig, Luke Hemmings.”
“Pigs can’t have blue eyes therefore your argument is
You throw your hands up in frustration, trying to storm past
him – but even inebriated his reflexes are fast and he blocks you with his
broad shoulders, a sloppy grin on his lips.
“Don’t be mad,
“Don’t be a dick, Hemmings. Let me leave.”
“But the party’s just started.” He whines a little, pouting
“This party is going to be ending real soon for you if you
“Was that in invitation to get out of here?”
“That was a fucking demand for you to leave me alone.”
“What have I done to make you hate me so much?”
The playful demeanor is gone now, replaced by dark storm
clouds in his eyes that make you take a step back in the sudden surprise.
“You’re always so nice to my brothers – Ash and Mikey and
even Cal – he gets it on with like
two girls every day and still you’d
share your food with him – “
“Luke, I swear to god if this is over a cookie from that one time – “
“It’s not fucking one
time – you make a pointed effort to ignore me and you always make up some
bullshit excuse to leave when I come up to talk to you when you’re with Mikey
and last year you literally dropped your favourite course because you saw me in
the same class – “
“I didn’t have space for the class – “
“There we go again! Bullshit excuses, all of it. You get
along fine with everyone on the campus – fucking sweetheart, that’s what you
are – but you treat me like shit for absolutely no reason at all.”
You’re finding this drunk version of Luke a little harder to
manage than the one from a few moments ago.
“And I fuck up. I fuck up a lot. I know. But I haven’t slept with your sister or ran over your
cat or whizzed on your car or any of the other stupid shit I usually do to make
people hate me. It’s like you literally hate me for being me.”
“Luke, I – “
“Too high up on your throne to notice scum like me, princess?”
The words are bitter, hurt flashing in his eyes.
And you knew you weren’t exactly the kindest to Luke – it’s
been years and you can’t even remember why you started treating him the way you
did and you never gave it a second thought – you always thought he’d ignore
your words just as you did to his, but you supposed not.
“I’m sorry, Luke.”
“You wouldn’t be if I didn’t tell you.”
You’re silent and he’s waiting and you don’t know what to
He moves from the doorway, clearing the path for you.
“Just fucking leave. I’ll tell Mikey to give you the notes
You’re still, the freedom of the door no longer as uplifting
as it was before, not when there’s still an elephant in the room blocking your
“Come with me?”
You test the words out hesitantly, gauging his reaction.
His eyebrows are pinched together and you’re not sure if his
drunken mind understands your request, or if he’s too confused over the meaning
of the words.
“It’s an invitation to get out of here with me.” You smile a
little, parroting his words from earlier. “I want… I want to restart some
“You mean your crappy-ass behaviour to me?” He blurts out,
blunt words that he can’t help.
“Don’t push it, Hemmings.” You warn, though the small grin
doesn’t leave your lips. “But yes.”
Luke looks out to the main room – where Ashton was currently
dancing on top of the pool table, lassoing his shirt above his head – before turning
back to you with a crooked smile.
“Let’s get out of here. I wasn’t really feeling this
You raise a questioning eyebrow at him – not quick to forget
his hollering whoops with beer spilling from his cup when you first walked in –
but you don’t say a word about it, leaving it to the grin playing on your lips.
“I know just the place.”
“It better not be your bedroom, Hemmings.”
“First you mention the fucking and now this? I’m sensing you
like me more than you let on, princess.”
You smack his head but it’s playful, and he rubs his
now-messy hair with a boyish smile on his face.
“C’mon. Trust me?”
His eyes are still a little fogged with alcohol and a drunk
Luke Hemmings is the absolutely last person
you should trust, judging by the wildfire stories that were so popular around
the campus – but you take his hand shyly and he wraps his long fingers around
them, tugging you out the room.
You don’t know where he’ll take you, but you think this story
is one just for the two of you.
more imagines here!