Requested by Anon:
hej! I really LOVE your imagines! Therefore, I wanted to ask if you can write a william karlsson one (since there are definitely not enough 😋). Don’t really have an idea but maybe something about being friends since kindergarden, she’s a pro-snowboarder and they finally reveal their feelings?! I don’t know 🙈 don’t mind if you have a different idea! lots of love and thank you ❤️
*Hiii! Thank you so so much! I hope you like this one and my Swedish is okay and won’t disappoint. Huggies from this part of the world! Enjoy! Love love. :)*
Word count: 990
The familiar thud when you hit the carpeted floor echoed
throughout the room. Gingerly, you rolled over and stretched your neck, “fuck,”
you whispered, kneeling. You blinked at the dark and waited for your eyes to
adjust before standing and closing the window you used to enter William
Karlsson’s childhood room. You smirked, pleased with yourself.
Just like the old times.
You walked over to the bed and slipped under the covers, hip
checking your best friend, “scoot over,” you said in a low voice, “I need
Howdy Upside! How about headcanons for a reincarnation AU where Zack's trying to get the old gang back together?
Nice to see you Boomy
As the cycle of life and death kept churning, Cloud and Genesis and even Sephiroth let go and let the Lifestream take them. Aerith decided that wasn’t enough. She pulled some strings and got them, plus Zack and Angeal back out…a little too early. After that it was time to pull out the popcorn and watch the show.
Zack always had strange dreams. Most of them were sad, but all of them he forgot when he woke up, though he fought hard to remember. He was more than a teenager when he ran into a stubborn blonde…and he remembered more. He’d seen him before, seen this man, they’d been friends. Cloud was as prickly as ever, but Zack wasn’t one to give up either. Cloud was going to be his friend if he liked it or not.
Cloud didn’t believe in the lost memory thing like Zack did, but he didn’t deny it. He also didn’t deny that he kind of remembered seeing the cranky bookstore owner before. Zack remembered him being an asshole, but backed up Cloud when Cloud decided to ask if the redhead remembered him at all. The answer was yes. Genesis believed in this past life business quite a bit. In fact, he’d found a lover from his previous life and insisted the other two meet him.
Zack felt less awkward around Genesis’s boyfriend Angeal. It was a long moment when the two locked eyes. Zack didn’t understand why he started tearing up, but Angeal assured him it was alright. Genesis had done the same. He made the four of them dinner and tried to put together what they could remember. They couldn’t help feeling…they were missing something.
Cloud found it. Well…he fought that missing piece. He got in an all out brawl in a bar and got himself and a stranger tossed out. Zack had to pry Cloud off while Angeal held back the other guy. They had beaten the crap out of each other, but called a truce when Angeal said they could get cleaned up at his place. They even shook hands. As Genesis handed the stranger an ice pack he asked if he had a lot of moments of deja vu.
“Because I swear this isn’t the first time I’ve cleaned blood off your face.”
Sephiroth didn’t believe in that nonsense…but he made the mistake of looking at Zack’s earnest face and goddamn he’d seen that face before.
Request- Yay!! Can you do an imagine where you’re best
friends with Jack and you come out to him as a lesbian please?? Thanks!
Warning- Very very slight mention of self-hate
and it could be triggering for some. So please, don’t read if you’re sensitive.
A/N- this is a friend imagine… jack and the
reader are NOT together, just friends. If this isn’t your cup of tea bc you’re not lesbian, then send in some requests that you’d like to me to write.
You had known Jack
for about five years. You two quickly became inseparable. Though many of his
fans shipped you two together, you two never had any type of sparks.
Jack was the Clyde to
your Bonnie, the Batman to your Robin, the Meredith to your Alex, the Stabler
to your Benson, the Chandler to your Joey; if you will. You were always caught
doing silly pranks or just being goofballs together. Yet, you two also knew
that when work needed to be done, it would get done. You had spent countless
nights staying up late out on his balcony talking about the most random things.
You two told each
other everything. He told you about his hatred for being seen as a player. You
told him about your undying love for Chad Michael Murray, which he would make
fun of you for. He told you about how he was afraid he’d let his parents down,
to which you would give him entire speech about how they were more than proud
of him. And you told him about that one night where your parents weren’t home
and you almost swallowed a bottle of pills, and he vowed to make sure you knew
how much you were loved because he “couldn’t imagine his life without you as
his best friend.”
However, there was
one thing you hadn’t told him.
You were a lesbian.
It’s not that you
were scared, it just never came up.
Okay, that’s a total
lie. You were scared out of your mind.
How was he going to react?
Would he judge you?
Would he tell everyone even if you weren’t
Would he hate you?
You knew deep down
that no, he wouldn’t. But you couldn’t be certain. You had known the kid for the
better half of your adulthood, yet you couldn’t find the guts to tell him about
one of the most important parts of your life.
It was currently a
Sunday night and Jack was supposed to come over for your weekly Jack and Y/n Movie Night.
You were laid up on
the couch, debating whether or not tonight was the night to tell Jack.
You were going to do
it, no matter what. If it runs your friendship then fuck him. He wasn’t worth
it. But you honestly couldn’t think of your life without Jack Maynard in it.
“Honey, I’m home!”
Jack’s laugh filled your apartment as he appeared in your living room.
“Hi,” you smiled.
“What’s cooking, good
looking?” he retuned the smile, handing you the pizza box.
“Nothing, what’s up
with you?” you asked, grabbing a slice and shoving it into your mouth.
“I filmed a video
with Josh today. It was so funny, I think the fans will like it.”
“That’s good, can’t
wait to watch it.”
You two sat in an awkward
silence for a bit.
“Can we talk?” you
“Yeah, of course.”
You paused for a few
“Y/n? What’s wrong?”
You looked up to see
his reaction but his face was blank. He wasn’t angry nor happy, at least he didn’t
You began to panic. You
had to defend yourself.
“And before you say
anything I just want you to know that it’s perfectly normal to be. There are
actually over 1,000 species who have homosexual tendencies. Yeah, I looked it
up. So I just want you to know that I don’t care if you hate me because I’m not
scared or ashamed of who I am. And if you do hate me then you need to reevaluate
your life choices because hating someone because they’re gay is wrong. So just tell
me how you feel. I can take it.” You took a deep breath and lifted your eyes towards
the ceiling so the tears wouldn’t fall.
When you heard laughter
you looked at him.
Why was he laughing?
“What’s so funny?”
“Y/n, love. I don’t care
if you rather sleep with girls than boys.” He smiled. “You’re still my best
“Really? You don’t care?”
“Nope,” he took
another bite of his pizza.
“So let me get this
straight. You don’t care that I prefer girls over guys?”
“Why would I?” he gave
you a questioning look.
You paused, “Well… I
don’t know actually.”
“Y/n, you overthink
“You’re right,” you
“I am kind of upset
about one thing.”
Shit shit shit shit shit. What did you do? Why was
You heart began racing,
“And what’s that?”
“Did you really think
I would hate you for being gay?”
“I-um- I don’t know,”
you sighed. “I just thought you’d think I was different or weird.”
He grabbed your hands
and you looked at him, “Y/n, nothing you ever do is weird to me. You’re my best
friend and nothing, absolute nothing will change that. Okay?”
“Okay,” you smiled
and hugged him. “Thank you, Jack.”
“Of course! But you
will just have to deal with the fact that girls will prefer me over you.”
“No girl can resist Jack
Maynard,” he shrugged. “That’s just how it is.”
“Oh really?” you
“I hate to break it
to you,” he took another bite.
“I have an idea,” you started.
“Hmm?” he encouraged you
to go on.
“Let’s go out and see
who can get more numbers. Winner gets bragging rights.”
“What about our movie
“Are you scared that I’ll
get more numbers than you?”
He scoffed, “Puh-lease.”
Jack’s jaw hung open
as you came back with yet another girl’s number. He couldn’t believe how many you
had actually got.
“I think that’s 14,”
you laughed. “Wait no, 15. Because the blonde girl gave it to me instead of
“I don’t care,” he said
taking a gulp of his beer.
“Wait,” you laughed. “I
got 15 and you go what? Nine? I think that means that I, the lesbian, won.”
He slammed his drink
on the counter and headed towards the exit. You followed your best friend,
rolling your eyes on the way.
“Are you really upset
that I won?” you laughed.
“I can’t believe you!”
he huffed as you two left the club.
“What can I say? No
girl can resist Y/n Y/l/n.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.” you smiled
“True.” He laughed.
“Now let’s go get my
best friend laid!” you slung an arm around his shoulder as you two walked
towards another club.
“What about you?” he
“I don’t need your
help to get laid. I think I made that clear in the last bar.”
His eyebrows knit
together, “I do not need your help
However, Jack didn’t complain
when he left with a pretty brunette later that night thanks to you initiating
Sadly, you weren’t the
only one who helped others get laid. And Jack never let you forget it when he
was the reason you got some.
No matter the time
nor setting, he could remember every single person you’d slept with because of
Once, you two were
hanging around his place when he brought it up.
“Remember that blonde
with the badass sleeve?” he’d say as you rolled your eyes.
“Yes, what about her?”
“She only slept with
you because of me,” he smiled.
“Are you sure it wasn’t
because of my amazing mouth?” you’d laugh, leaving Jack redder than a tomato.
Once you were all
around Caspar’s, all the boys knowing about your sexuality by then.
Jack said, “How about
the one with the cute bob? Remember her? Yeah, she was hot.”
“Yeah, but she didn’t
go home with you now did she?” you’d reply which he would return with a pout.
After that incident,
he never mentioned about how good of wingman he was ever again, but you both knew
he was. Though Jack Maynard may be a good wingman, but he was an even better
grace left mississippi for a reason. she just wants to be left alone. niall is spending the summer traveling through spain searching for the perfect wave and, instead, finds grace. liam has chosen this moment to pop back up in grace’s life. she doesn’t want any of it.
a surfer niall / expat grace / tech billionaire ex liam nsfw one shot
The greatest thing about Oshare Bones is his more complex personality, especially his implied Stepford Smiler attitude: sure, he’s a bonafide drama queen obsessed with fashion, and will easily criticize your outfit if it doesn’t reach his standards, but some games (especially the 15th Anniversary) state that there’s more than that.
- Sure he’ll criticize your fashion choices, but it’s never really done out of malice, since Oshare just wants everyone to be beautiful, and he’s really good natured, only, well, a little too over the top.
- He claims to have been dead for a least a century, but he still remembers his long, blonde hair he used to have when he was still alive; he even had photos of himself, that he threw in the ocean because, according to him, the memories were too painful. When Lemres suggested to go and get them back, he hastily begged him not to, with a worried look on his face.
- He’s got a lover, but he hasn’t seen them in quite a while. This lover gave him a gift, only for him throwing it in the sea when they disappeared, so not to be reminded of this loss. When Raffine found it, Oshare tells her to keep it, for he feels he no longer deserves to own it.
- People assume he loves cats, but he actually is a dog “person”: he admires their loyalty and devotion. Dogs have this ability to keep waiting, something he can relate to.
- He was born during Christmas Eve, which is a very romantic holiday in Japan.
- While the identity of his lover is unknown, Oshare mistook Satan for them the first time he met the Devil; this, and considering that he seems to playfully flirt with some male characters, makes me 90% sure that his lover was male.
- His wish during the 15th Anniversary game was to find his love, but he didn’t specify when he wanted to see them, so the only thing he achieved was to ensure that they’ll meet again, someday, somehow. He got a little upset, but was still glad that their encounter could happen, after all.
You see? There’s more to Oshare Bones than his love for fashion. There’s also a bittersweet side to him, lamenting what he lost and his fear of facing it, but a hopeless romantic soul, nevertheless. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if he became so fashion obsessed as a result of his death, so he could somehow recreate his appearence when he was alive (ok, this is more of a headcanon of mine, but, who knows?). I really can’t understand why Puyo Puyo games won’t give him the attention he deserves. I want him to make an appearence once more as an important character. Because Oshare Bones has more character than it looks like at first glance.
It’s so bad but it’s my favourite thing I’ve ever written. It was also supposed to be 10,000 words but i suck and only wrote 9,721, oops. I hope you enjoy!
Michael remembers hating Luke for being tiny, quiet, blonde and full of innocence.
He remembers their first fist fight where Calum had to hold him back from hitting Luke.
He remembers when Luke punched him in the face when he called Luke a faggot.
He remembers how no one helped him stop the bloody nose.
He remembers their second fight when he locked Luke in the bathroom because he had thrown a glass pitcher at Michael.
He remembers when he was left alone with Luke for a weekend and the younger boy never left his room.
Michael was sure of why Luke was sick for weeks afterwards when Ashton found the moldy pizza box under Luke’s bed.
He remembers their third fight, right after Ashton got out of the hospital, when Luke make a snide remark and Michael grabbed him by the hair, pushed him up against the wall and threatened to beat the shit out of him if he ever said something like that again.
He remembers how Luke glared up at him with spite in his eyes before pushing Michael away.
He remembers when Luke was bawling his eyes out after finding out his grandmother died.
He remembers feeling bad and wanting to comfort the blonde, but staying quiet instead.
He remembers when Luke crawled into his bed that night, his hands and feet cold, and his hair floppy and wet.
He remembers how Luke slept, his head too close to Michael’s and his fingers wrapped around the hem of Michael’s sleep shirt.
He remembers waking up with the blondes head on his chest, his breathing laboured.
He remembers Luke waking up and leaving, avoiding looking Michael in the eye.
He remembers how Luke began snapping at him again and how he stopped feeling bad and started hating the blonde even harder.
He remembers sitting next to Luke in the car, their knees pressed together and Michael couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face and the thoughts that ‘hey, this might not be too bad’ that flew across his mind.
He remembers Luke staring out the window, letting out a sigh before leaning back and closing his eyes.
He remembers the sounds of traffic around him, the buzz of life that Michael desperately wanted to be part of.
He remembers shifting away from Luke because suddenly, he wasn’t as comfortable as before.
He remembers his stomach twisting and turning.
He remembers beginning to breath heavily.
He remembers grabbing at Luke’s hand.
He remembers the song playing on the radio.
And that’s it.
Michael doesn’t want to open his eyes.
He can already smell the antiseptic, hospital like air suffocating him and he’s scared.
There are loud beeping machines and Michael can’t help but wonder if those little robots are the reason he’s alive.
Then again, Michael can’t help but wonder what he’s doing in the hospital.
His eyelids feel like sandpaper scratching against his eyes, they’re heavy and rough and he doesn’t like it.
The machines beep faster, probably because Michael’s starting to panic.
He wants to open his mouth and scream but he can’t seem to push himself to do so.
Then he’s sleeping, drifting in and out of consciousness and he can’t help but feel relaxed; god knows how many drugs they’ve hopped him up on to keep him this still.
He feels a hand run through his hair and he wants to tell the hand to stop touching him, he doesn’t like to be touched.
But the hand is warm and comforting and somehow familiar and Michael hopes it’s his mom.
He feels like he’s fighting an iron giant because suddenly he’s asleep again.
When Michael wakes up, if that’s what you call the state he was in, he smells flowers, sweet scents brightening up the sterile smelling room.
His eyes hurt but not as much as they did before and Michael decides that maybe opening his eyes isn’t such a bad idea.
But he feels the hand on his forehead, running down his cheek, across the bridge of his nose, and dry lips.
Michael licks his lips, uncomfortable at how strange the feeling of a finger rubbing his lip.
The hand pulls away quickly, and the words ‘Get a doctor!’ are yelled loudly and the voice is familiar but he doesn’t recognize it.
Michael wants to tell the voice to quiet down, that he has a headache but decides that he’s too tired to do anything but sleep, and maybe dream about chapstick.
Michael opens his eyes slowly because they still hurt and feel heavy.
The room was probably painted white at one point, but was now littered with posters, Michael’s posters from his room, balloons, cards, flowers, you name it, Michael’s room had it.
He glances around slowly, his head is spinning and he feels slightly nauseous.
His eyes pause on the curly haired boy tucked into the wooden bedside chair and his heart drops.
He wants to yell for Ashton to wake up, to tell him what’s going on. Where’s his family? Where’s Calum?
But Michael decides against it because there’s a book on the floor, sprawled out like someone dropped it when they fell asleep and Michael knows that it’s not like Ashton to hurt a book like that and he must be exhausted if he couldn’t close the book.
Michael wants to get up, his legs feel stiff and his toes are cold even though they’re covered and feel to have socks on.
He’s nervous to pull the blankets back because he knows he’s in the hospital for a reason and he’s terrified to find out why and the fact that there are numerous wires and tubes slipping under the blankets warn him that there are bound to be needles stuck in his skin and Michael’s weary of these types of needles, the piercing ones are okay.
He notices that the top blanket is from in his room, a blue and green quilt his great aunt had made him when he was little, and he’s aware that his mom must have stopped by at one point.
He wishes she were here now, he wishes all of his friends and family were here because he feels alone although Ashton is curled up only a few feet away.
Michael tugs the blanket up to his neck softly, inhaling the scent of the laundry detergent his mom used to clean the quilt whenever Michael decided to make a mess of it, and he feels a bit better.
He curls his fingers into his palm softly because he doesn’t know what else to do.
Calling the nurse would result in Ashton being woken up and Michael really didn’t want to deprive his friend of what looked like much needed sleep.
Michael decides to get up himself and looks around for the remote control for the bed.
He spots it velcroed to the side of the bed, it’s full of confusing little buttons that show the different parts of the bed that can be adjusted.
Michael doesn’t know what to push so he drops the remote on the bed, giving up on a chances of moving from the room.
He can hear the slight buzz of hospital chatter, the squeaks of nurse’s shoes on the linoleum tiled floor, the rolling of nurses stations as they go room to room checking in on patients.
Michael really doesn’t want to be disturbed.
He closes his eyes, willing himself to find the peaceful state of slumber but his mind has other plans.
The door opens softly with a click and Michael pretends to be asleep.
The sound of rustling paper echos around the room.
Slowly, a familiar scent flows into his nose and it’s all Michael can do to not open his eyes because the only person that smells like fresh air and mint is Luke and he doesn’t understand why Luke’s in his room.
Michael shifts in his bed accidentally and his hand brushes against a needle in his wrist.
He lets out a soft gasp and his eyes slowly open.
Luke hasn’t noticed Michael’s movements it seems. His back is to the boy in bed, his hair looks to be down, he has sweatpants on, his sneakers aren’t tied, and his sweatshirt is rumpled.
Michael doesn’t know why he’s critiquing the blonde boy, he could honestly care less about him.
“Luke?” Michael decides to talk because he needs some familiarity.
His voice is dry and raspy, like he hasn’t spoken in a long time.
Luke turns slowly and Michael can’t help the gasp that escapes him.
If Ashton looked bad, Luke looked worse.
The bags under his eyes had their own set of bags, his skin was pale, almost translucent, his bright blue eyes were framed in red.
Michael didn’t like how run down Luke looked, and he didn’t like how he cared so much.
“Michael, oh god.” Luke whispers, his grasp on a bouquet of colorful daisies tightening because his best friend was sitting up in bed by himself, breathing by himself and talking. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
Michael shakes his head and realizes it hurts to do that.
“Where’s my mom?”
He doesn’t want to sound like a desperate, whiny baby but he misses his mom and he wants her to tell him everything is going to be okay.
“She had work today. She couldn’t take off anymore.” Luke put the flowers down on the counter and took a tentative step towards Michael.
“Don’t wake him up.” Michael nodded over towards Ashton, who was still sound asleep. “He looks exhausted.”
Michael takes in Luke’s figure again, deciding something was off but not really wanting to get into a conversation with the blonde boy if he didn’t have to.
“Would you get the doctor, please?” Michael asks, trying to be polite.
He doesn’t really want to be polite but Luke’s been nothing but kind since he came into the room and Michael feels that he would be terrible if he threw that all back in Luke’s face.
Michael isn’t really sure why Luke’s being so nice, but he’s sure it has something to do with why he’s in the hospital.
Quickly, the blonde boy is out of the room, leaving Michael a moment to gather himself before Luke rushes back in, doctor in tow.
“Hello, Michael. My name is Dr. Goldrung, I’ve been treating you since you came in.“ The doctor reached out a hand to Michael who took it cautiously, and didn’t look away from her eyes.
He was afraid to see the needles in his hands.
"It’s standard procedure to ask a few questions to anyone that’s been in a coma for over two weeks.” Dr. Goldrung continued on talking. “We need to fully assess any damage done from the accident.”
Michael nodded his head softly, having zoned out some after hearing the words ‘coma’ and 'two weeks’ in the same sentence.
“What’s your full name?”
Michael opened his mouth, then closed it. His eyes shooting over to the curly haired boy squirming around in his chair as he began to wake up.
Michael wanted to grab Ashton in his arms and tell him to go home and sleep.
“Michael Gordon Clifford.” Michael finally answered the question, fearing the doctor would conclude that Michael was now an idiot.
“Last date you remember?”
That stumped Michael.
The days had been whizzing by so quickly that Michael wasn’t quite sure what month it was.
“January 7, 2015?” He questioned, glancing over at Luke, who was perched on the edge of Michael’s bed, for confirmation.
Luke beamed at him and Michael felt slightly relieved that he wasn’t suddenly brain dead.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
Michael froze, his mind clouding with emptiness as he searched for a memory.
“Erm, Ashton was dancing around my garage like a rockette..?” He didn’t sound too sure of himself and that worried him.
The doctor looked to Luke and Michael frowned. Just because Luke was around him doesn’t mean he knows what Michael should remember.
Luke was staring at Michael, his face blank but his eyes full of question.
“You don’t remember anything else?” Luke’s voice was soft, like he was trying to sooth Michael, who knew Luke was trying to keep himself calm.
He remembers Luke and Ashton running into the garage, speakers and phone in hand.
Luke pushed the speaker onto the counter and plugged in his phone while Ashton excitedly told Michael that he learned to wall twerk.
Michael set down the guitar he had been strumming and glanced over at Luke, waiting.
“Okay, ready?” Ashton had asked before moving over to the wall and getting in position.
Luke hit the power button and ‘Fergalicious’ began blasting through the speakers.
Watching Ashton shake his butt repeatedly to the beat of the song left Michael laughing hysterically and beginning Ashton to become a stripper.
He remembers Ashton flopping down to the floor and starting to dance the Can-Can while Luke whined about not catching all of the twerking.
Michael remembers rolling his eyes, slightly annoyed at Luke’s whining because in Michael’s eyes, that’s all the blonde ever did.
And then he remembers waking up here.
Michael wants to sigh loudly but refrains, instead he tucks his arms back under the blankets and stares down at the quilted pattern.
If he was scared before, he was terrified now.
The doctor had pity in her eyes after he couldn’t recall anything sooner than Ashton’s dancing. She asked to speak in the hall with Luke and Ashton, who had joined the conversation as Michael was struggling to recall a memory, privately.
Michael wanted to crawl up in a ball under the blankets and sleep some more, but he knew Ashton and Luke would be back in soon enough and he really wanted to talk to them, Ashton at least.
But what he really wanted was to see Calum.
He glanced around the room again, trying to find something to do, instead his eyes locked on a poster, the poster he never remembered getting, and decided to ask Ashton when he came back in about it.
Michael settled for grabbing the remote control for the bed and trying to find the correct button that would raise the top of the mattress up. After raising his feet to the ceiling twice, he was able to figure out how to raise his upper body into a sitting position.
He could see the shadow of a figure standing outside of door and really hoped that it was Ashton.
When the door opened and Ashton’s curly mop of hair popped through the opening, Michael smiled happily.
“How do you feel?” Was the first thing that came out of Ashton’s mouth when he sat down on Michael’s bed, pulling his one leg up with him.
Michael shrugged, he wasn’t exactly sure how he felt. His head was pounding, his eyes felt heavy, his mouth was dry, and his body felt cold despite the blankets.
“Calum’s on his way over.” Ashton spoke softly, his eyes anywhere but Michaels. “It’s been pretty rough for him, he’s so used to you being around all the time. But Luke’s worse, he was in the car with you and everything.”
Michael raises an eyebrow is question. Luke was in the car with him? Michael doesn’t remember being in any car but decides he probably pushed the memory to the back of his mind because it was so traumatic.
“Do you honestly not remember anything besides me dancing?”
Michael wants to say he remembers more but he can’t, he honestly doesn’t remember anything after that. He doesn’t want to make the curly haired boy feel any worse for him so he attempts to change the subject. “Where’d the Doors poster come from?”
Ashton stared at Michael, a confused expression on his face. “What do you mean? We took it out of your room and brought it here.”
Michael shook his head. “I never had a Doors poster, Ash. They’re the only band I was searching for a poster for.”
“What are you talking about? Luke got it for you for your 16th birthday.” Ashton glanced over at the poster before turning back to Michael.
Michael was positive Ashton was delirious. Luke getting Michael anything for any reason was not possible and Michael voiced that despite the confused looks Ashton continued to give him.
“I don’t… I don’t even remember my party..” Michael murmured, reaching up to scratch his head but thinking better of it, knowing how Ashton would react to the needles in Michaels wrists. “My head hurts, Ash.”
“Have they done any tests with you?” Ashton questioned, his eyes full of concern as he finally looked Michael in the eye.
Michael shook his head. “Dr. Goldrung has only asked a few questions. Thankfully, she hasn’t concluded that I’m an idiot.”
He wanted to laugh at his joke but he couldn’t find the strength; Ashton looked far too concerned for Michael’s taste and he wasn’t sure what was going on.
“You can’t remember anything after the garage dancing, you don’t remember your birthday party and you don’t remember Luke getting you the poster.” Ashton spoke carefully as not to alarm Michael who was already starting to panic.
He remembered other things though, like how Calum and him were supposed to go out for New Years Eve and find a girl for Calum.
But for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t looking for one himself.
“They’ll probably run some tests on you later today or sometime tomorrow.” Ashton told Michael after seeing the panic set in. “You’re probably fine, but better safe than sorry.
“Yeah, probably.” He tried to smile. “Ash… what happened?”
Ashton looked away and let out a sigh. “You and Luke were going to some concert and a car hit the car you were in.”
“But Luke’s not in the hospital?”
“It hit your side.” Ashton gave a half-hearted smile and rubbed Michaels shoulder soothingly. “You’re gonna be okay, though.
Michael nodded along with Ashton’s words. He was beginning to feel tired and cranky. “Have you kept Calum away from my Xbox?”
Ashton shook his head. “He hasn’t gone near it, pretty sure he’s waiting for you to come home and play him.”
Michael sighed. He really really wanted to see his best friend, and he was taking way too long to get there.
But then there was a knock on the door and Michael couldn’t hold back the smile that took over his face.
The door opened and Luke walked in, Calum right behind him.
Michael’s smile slowly melted off his face.
Calum’s hair held a bright blonde streak on his bangs and Michael frowned because Calum had sworn that he would never dye his hair without Michael’s help.
“Nice hair.” Michael remarks dryly, feeling slightly down.
Calum smiled strangely and glanced over at Ashton who was staring at Michael with wide eyes. “Thanks? I only brushed it.”
“No, the streak.” Michael gestured to the blonde streak and Calum’s smile dropped.
“I’ve had it for months, Mike.” Calum spoke slowly, his eyes locked with Michaels.
Michael shook his head, “No you haven’t.”
He frowned and looked away, ignoring the worried looks the guys threw at each other.
Dissociative amnesia, the doctors said.
Michael wasn’t exactly sure what that was, but he knew it had something to do with the fact that he was unable to recall certain memories.
The doctors aren’t telling him much and neither is his family or friends.
He wants to cry because Ashton and Calum constantly keep bringing Luke around and Michael just doesn’t want to see him.
But Luke will sit there in the corner, his face illuminated by his phone screen, his legs pulled up on the chair, the arm holding the phone resting on his one knee and his thumb constantly rolling his lip ring around and he won’t talk to Michael, only glance up once in a while with these sad little eyes that makes Michael want to vomit.
He really wants to go home and lock himself in his room for days on end until he stops staring at Luke.
And if Ashton catches him staring at Luke one more time and gives Michael a pity filled smile one more time, Michael’s sure he’s going to throw something at the curly haired boy.
Michael likes how Calum babies him, though.
He’s gotten tons of cuddles from the kiwi boy, and when none of the nurses are looking, Calum’s shoving McDonalds and other unhealthy treats into Michael’s room.
He’ll be honest, he has trouble tearing his eyes away from Luke whenever Calum’s long, tan arms wrap around his waist and pull Michael back, he likes to study Luke’s reactions. Like how whenever Ashton says something funny Luke’s eyes crinkle in the corners and his dimples look as deep as the Grand Canyon and how his eyes flicker to Michael when Calum’s cuddling him and then quickly look away and how Michael can see Luke struggling to keep from looking back of the cuddling boys.
Michael doesn’t like how he watches the blonde boy so much.
He doesn’t want to watch him, really, he just likes studying him and that involves looking so really, Michael can’t help it.
But after Michael’s partially asleep and the boys decide to leave and there’s suddenly a hand running through his hair and down his cheeks, over his lips, back up his nose, around his eyelids and then staying on his cheek, Michael can’t help but open his eyes slightly to see a sad little Luke staring right at him, fully aware that the older boy was still somewhat awake.
Luke watches Michael like he’s waiting for him to say something but Michael doesn’t know what to say. Instead he stares up at the blonde boy and realises Luke’s been nothing but nice to him since he woke up and it’s suddenly hard as hell to hate him.
And then Luke leans down and hugs him and Michael wraps his arms around Luke tightly and everything feels right.
Maybe that’s what Michael needed; a hug.
But then Luke’s pulling back and Michael’s struggling to not pull him back down into him because Luke was so warm and soft and Michael liked it a lot.
“See you tomorrow.” Michael mumbles, his fingers running down the length of Luke’s arm, softly.
Luke gives him a sad smile and shakes his head, “Later today, it’s already tomorrow.”
And Michaels smiling slightly and he knows this is the first time since he’d woken up that he’s smiled because of Luke and he knows Luke realises this too.
But Luke doesn’t say anything about it and Michael’s grateful for that and soon Luke’s backing up towards the door, his eyes on Michael and then the doors open and Luke’s going through it and Michael wants to ask him to stay but he knows he can’t because Luke needs sleep too and so he watches the blonde boy go.
Michael’s neck and shoulders hurt, and he decides he must have slept on them the wrong way.
He wants to get up and pee but he kicked his slipper socks off in the middle of the night and no longer knows where they are, only that they’re somewhere lost in his bed and Michael is not about to put his feet on the dirty hospital floor.
The red button labeled 'nurse’ is looking strangely welcoming even though Michael feels like a complete burden to the kind workers, constantly asking to do things and for them to get him something.
He decides to wait exactly ten minutes and if no one comes in he’ll push the button.
But then Michael realises how badly he really has to go and the waiting becomes somewhat excruciating and then Luke’s standing in the doorway in a pair of sweatpants and a Rolling Stones shirt and Michael’s suddenly fixated on Luke’s shirt and it’s importance
There’s a hand on Michael’s knee and butterfly’s in his stomach. He feels giddy and runs a hand through his fluffy hair, glancing out the window of the fast moving car.
Michael turns away from the window to stare at Luke. “I’m so excited.”
“I am too,” Luke chuckles, moving his hand from Michael’s knee to his own lap.
Michael wants to grab Luke’s hand and place it back on his knee but ends up giving the blonde boy a pout and Luke just laughs before leaning into Michael.
They’re cuddling in the back of the taxi on the way to the Rolling Stones concert and Michael doesn’t know when he’s been happier.
Maybe a second later when Luke moved his lips to Michael’s neck, leaving soft kisses up along his jaw and back down the pale flesh of his throat.
And Michael can feel his cheeks heating up because everyone knows that touchy Luke isn’t a good Luke to be around in public.
And maybe, just maybe, Michael’s okay with it.
Michael’s staring at Luke and he feels his face flushing slightly and thinks he might’ve swallowed a bug.
Luke’s sitting on the edge of Michael’s bed and Michael wants to push him off but refrains because Luke looks really comfortable and Michael just doesn’t wanna disturb him.
And Michael’s silently questioning his sanity because he just saw himself willing allow the boy he hated to pepper his neck with kisses and no matter how good it felt, or he remembered it to feel he’s still creeped out by the fact that he was going with Luke to a concert.
But then he actually pays attention to Luke’s expression and maybe it’s something in his eyes that have his thoughts away because Luke has a thousand watt smile on his face and Michael stares at Luke’s lips because he really can’t help himself, not after remembering them pressed to his skin.
“What’re you thinking about?” Luke questions, his voice smooth like in the memory and Michael wants to melt into a puddle of lovesick kitten but refrains because that’s not him.
“Concert.” Michael’s voice is gruff, probably because he’s trying too hard not to squeal or touch the blonde boy next to him.
And that’s when Luke’s smile fades and Michael feels like a dip.
“You wouldn’t hold my knee.” Michael pouted hoping to bring a smile back to Luke’s face.
But Luke isn’t smiling, he’s staring at Michael hard.
“I gave you kisses instead.” Luke choked out the words, twisting his hands together and Michael really wants to grab Luke’s hands in his own and tell him to stop being a goofball but he doesn’t, he just watches Luke slowly shut down.
So Michael lets out a loud sigh and sits up, not caring that’s he’s still got to pee and that his head is pounding or his hospital gown is showing and wraps his arms around Luke, burying his face in the younger boys neck.
“I’m sorry I’m always so mean to you.” Michael apologised softly and inhaled Luke’s scent, not really caring that his heart was melting a little bit more as Luke’s lanky arms wrapped around Michael and tightened.
“It’s alright,” Luke mumbled back pressing a kiss to Michael’s earlobe.
And Michael doesn’t want to pull back and look like a jerk but he’s slowly becoming uncomfortable with how affectionately Luke is treating him.
But Michael does pull back and Luke looks like a lost, confused puppy and Michael feels bad because he thinks he’s deciphered the looks Luke’s been giving him and he doesn’t feel the same way, and the guilt is eating him alive because he feels like he’s leading Luke on.
Michael has been laying on the couch, in his room in the basement, for about three days and he didn’t plan on moving anytime soon.
After leaving the hospital only four days ago, Michael had somehow convinced his mother to allow him to stay in his room without her constantly checking in on him only because he promised to not leave the house or invite anyone over.
Of course, Calum and Ashton had broken that rule numerous times, sneaking in through the basement window or the front door while Michael’s mother was at work.
Michael didn’t mind though, playing mindless video games and watching TV all day got boring, especially when Ashton would randomly quit a game of FIFA when Calum would start gloating about his many wins.
Luke hadn’t come over yet and for that Michael was eternally grateful. It gave him more time to try and scrounge up another reason, preferably a good one, to hate the blonde haired boy that gave warm hugs.
Right now, Calum was laying on the floor atop three grey couch cushions from Michael’s man cave loveseat, giggling at another one of Damon’s stories as they video chatted.
“Hold on, my mom’s calling.” Damon smiled before rolling his eyes. “I’ll call you later.”
Calum nodded his head and hung up after muttering a ‘see ya dickhead’. “Do ya think you’ll be allowed out tonight?”
Michael shrugged, he didn’t really want to get off the couch, but Calum had been pestering him about going out to make up for missing New Years Eve.
He did want to go out though, he missed being surrounded by girls, and Michael knew that girls would be flocking to him tonight because of the accident.
“Is Ash and Damon going?” Michael questioned, stretching his arms above his head and looking down at a yawning Calum.
He wouldn’t ask about Luke, no.
“Yeah, Luke too.”
It was almost like Calum knew Michael wanted to know, deep down, despite the iciness he tried to show towards the younger blonde boy and that bothered Michael.
Michael nodded, contemplating what he was going to do. “If my mom–”
“I already texted her and asked, “Calum beamed at the redhead. “You’re free to go, but you’re staying over Luke’s after.”
Michael wasn’t all that surprised at Calum’s words, the kiwi boy had been known to go ahead and find out information for himself. He was, though, a bit annoyed at the fact that he was going to be sleeping over Luke’s, even after he had clearly expressed his dislike for the blonde boy, numerous times to both Calum and Ashton.
Ulterior Motives. Michael decided, narrowing his eyes at Calum and flopping onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
He knew both boys had seen the way Michael and Luke acted when together, Luke in a lost puppy fashion and Michael in a ‘could care less’ one.
Michael had been thinking about how the guys were, and decided that maybe he and Luke were okay and the guys were trying to push them back together, and as much as Michael hated the idea of not being able to torment the blonde boy that looked taller every time Michael saw him, he also hated the fact that Luke always looked so broken.
“Is he alright?” Michael sat up from his previous position on the couch and peered down at Calum whose face was illuminated by the phone above.
Calum hummed in response. “Who?”
Calum didn’t respond, only lowered his phone and stared up at Michael, his expression unreadable.
“I mean, Ashton said he was pretty messed up and all.” Michael stuttered over the words and felt his cheeks heating up slowly, he didn’t like how Calum was staring.
Those two words angered Michael slightly, because could you be anymore laconic? What was he adjusting to?
Michael was the one that had just gotten out of the hospital, not Luke.
Michael found himself in the passenger seat of Ashton’s rickety old car, whose radio buzzed randomly and seat belts stuck and wouldn’t let go. There was a spring pressing into Michael’s right butt cheek, the seat was almost vertical and Michael wanted to complain but realised he couldn’t because he didn’t even have a license, let alone a car. He settled for rolling the radio dial around until he came across a hard rock station, the only channel he could find that wasn’t on commercial and staring at the surprisingly clean floor because Ashton was focused on driving and Damon had his nose buried in a book.
Luke was picking Calum up and Michael knew Luke could only have one reckless friend in the car at a time when Ashton wasn’t there, Liz’s one rule that Luke followed unceremoniously.
But then Ashton’s phone was ringing and he was arguing loudly before finally giving up and pulling into a driveway.
“We’re going back to mine.” Ashton glanced in the rearview mirror as he backed out of the driveway. “Luke’s gonna drive.”
“Makes sense.” Damon spoke up and Michael turned to face him. “What?”
Michael shook his head, and gave a shrug.
He didn’t know what to say, it did make sense and that was what annoyed him. He was being coerced into going out with the blonde boy, forced to sleep over his house and was going to end up riding in the same car as him too, just Michael’s luck.
He decided that his head hurt and closed his eyes, probably because he kept overanalyzing everything, but he wouldn’t admit it.
Michael could hear Ashton singing along to the song on the radio and occasionally Damon would join in too and Michael might have let a few notes slip from his mouth too throughout the ride.
But then the car was parked and his door was being pulled open by a bouncy kiwi boy with the attention span of a hummingbird that was yelling about his sister ripping his new jeans.
And Michael rolled his eyes while Ashton fired back with a “you would have ripped them if she hadn’t” to which Calum huffed loudly and sulked because it was his job to rip his jeans, no one else’s.
“I’ll let you rip my jeans for me.” Michael spoke up, not realising how innuendo-y that sounded until after he said it and no matter how hard Calum and Ashton and even Damon laughed, Michael’s slip up never brought a smile to Luke’s face and Michael couldn’t help but feel himself push down the urge to roll his eyes and make a sharp remark.
He failed, though. “Not funny enough for you, Hemmings?”
And that’s when Luke’s eyes hit his, baby blue clashing with fiery green, and Michael swore on his great great grandmothers grave that Luke looked ready to punch him.
“Back to the last names, Clifford?” Luke shot back, ignoring Michael’s previous question.
The guys had stopped laughing and were now awkwardly standing around, Damon’s eyes were locked on Michael though and he felt rather uncomfortable because it felt like Damon was staring at his soul.
“I came here I have a nice time, Hemmings, but I’m feeling pretty attacked right now.” Michael bit out the words, shuffling towards Luke whose jaw clenched almost painfully.
“Feel free to leave.”
Michael’s eyes widened because while Luke had smart mouthed Michael before there had always been a limit and as of right now Luke had pressed way past those limits.
“Do you have a fucking problem, Hemmings?” Michael took another step closer, trying to ignore Ashton pulling Damon away from Luke’s side and over to Calum who stood next to the car.
Luke shrugged carelessly, his jean jacket shifting on his shoulders.
That wasn’t a good enough answer for Michael who grabbed onto the collar of Luke’s jacket and pulled him close.
“I asked you a question.”
“Michael.” Calum’s voice ripped through the silence, pleading for Michael to not start with Luke.
Luke stared up a Michael, his eyes blazing in fury.
And maybe Michael’s gaze caught on Luke’s tongue running along his lower lip, and wetting his lip ring, and maybe he had a momentary lapse of judgement because in the next few seconds Luke’s hands were tangled in Michael’s messy hair, pulling ever so roughly that Michael couldn’t stop the whimpers that escaped his lips.
His lips were on Luke’s within a breathe, kissing the blonde boy like he depended on it and Luke’s hands tightened in Michael’s hair even more and Michael wanted nothing more than for Luke to slam him up against the side of Ashton’s mums car and wreck him like there was no tomorrow.
Michael needed to breathe, but his urge to keep Luke against him was stronger and he bit down harshly on Luke’s lip, feeling the metal of his piercing clink against his teeth.
But then Michael felt a hand on his ass and suddenly Luke was on the ground, his eyes blown wide in surprise and his chest heaving rapidly.
Michael wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, trying and failing to remove all traces of Luke and his spit swapping session.
His cheeks heated slowly as he remembers the guys standing only feet away.
“I’m not gay, Hemmings.” Michael spat, chancing a glance in the general direction of the guys.
While Luke picked himself off the ground, brushing his pants off Calum decided to launch back into his sister ripping his jeans, much to Michael’s relief.
Luke stared at Michael, his eyes hard and Michael wanted to slap the anger from his face.
Michael ran his fingers through his hair, shaking the previous feeling of Luke’s tangling through it. He shot a glare in the direction of the blonde because who just kisses someone like that?
But Michael knew his glare was lacking as Luke stared him down.
“You’re pretty fucking gay if you kiss another guy.” Luke argued quietly walking towards Damon who stood leaning against the car.
Michael shuddered at his words because he was right and everyone knew it.
Damon grabbed Luke’s hands, running his fingers over scratches and Michael wanted to tell him to stop babying the blonde but kept his mouth shut because he knew they’d only start fighting again and Michael would probably end up punching the younger boy.
“Fuck yourself, Hemmings.”
“Shut up, Michael!” Damon exclaimed in anger. “You’ve made your point already, Jesus.”
Michael glared at the boy, silently fuming when Luke handed Ashton the keys to his car and climbed in the back.
Calum gave a loud sigh before climbing in the front, shooting Michael a warning look and nudging Damon next to Luke.
Michael wanted to stamp his foot and yell that he wouldn’t sit next to Luke if his life depended on it but rather climbed in on the other side next to the blonde boy.
Their knees rested against each others and Luke pushed his harder into Michael, who stared out the window in annoyance.
He shifted towards the door, pulling as far as he could from the blonde because who wants to touch a really kissable boy with a lip ring?
Certainly not Michael.
Michael wasn’t ready for alcohol, he was still taking occasional pain meds but when a tiny brunette girl with glasses grabbed Michael’s hand, pulled him over to her friends and handed him a joint, who was he to say no?
And if he ended up shotgunning a few times with a few different girls, so be it.
Michael currently had his lips against a giggling girl, and his hands on her breasts, and maybe her hand was in his pants and maybe it wasn’t, he wasn’t telling.
But then she was pulling away and he was attacking his lips to her neck because pale skin always looks good covered in purplish bruises and that was Michael’s expertise.
Michael’s eyes flitted open as he marked her neck and his gaze landed on a tall blonde boy on his knees in front of a husky brunette boy and his head was bobbing back forth and Michael swore his eyes were playing tricks on him because that blonde boy looked almost exactly like Luke.
And then the brunette mans hands went into the blondes hair and Michael felt his breath catch in his throat because he knew what was happening.
The blonde boy stood up and Michael stopped sucking on the girls neck because the boy turned and all Michael saw was Luke wiping his mouth and adjusting himself in his pants and he almost passed out because Luke just sucked someone off!
And then Luke was staring Michael straight in the eye as he licked his lips, shooting the older boy a smirk that left him squirming in his seat.
Michael pulled off of the girls neck, pressing a kiss to her cheek and standing up, his eyes locked on Luke’s.
Luke had a crude smile on his face as he beckoned Michael over with a curl of his finger and while Michael wanted to scoff at Luke’s demanding little move he found his feet moving him over to where the blonde boy stood.
“You always listen so well, Clifford.” Luke cooed, grabbing Michael’s arm and pulling him close. “Did you know they have rooms here for doing things in, but I find exhibitionism hot.”
Michael narrowed his eyes but didn’t pull away, he was curious as to what the blonde boy wanted.
“Do you know what my favourite room is?”
Michael found himself nodding although he had absolutely no idea what the answer was.
Luke smiled and released Michael’s arm before walking backwards towards a hallway.
Michael watched him go and found himself tempted to follow after him so he did.
He walked to where Luke was waiting and stopped. “What do you want, Hemmings?”
Luke shrugged and Michael found himself growing annoyed with the blonde boy.
“I guess, I want you on your knees.”
And Michael almost choked on air because who says that kind of thing?
He shook his head rapidly, putting his hands up as if to ward the younger boy away.
Luke sighed and continued down the hallway a few doors for pausing in front of a black door with an A shaped letter on it and Michael wondered what the letter stood for.
“C'mon.” Luke grabbed Michael’s arm as he opened the lot and pulled him in.
The room was dimly lit and painted black. It was furnished but sparsely, for a few chairs, mostly couches though, situated around the room.
Luke dropped Michael’s hand as he closed the for and while everything about the room screamed kinky, Michael found himself wanting to stay.
He moved away from the door and towards the couch figuring if he was going to stay he might as well get comfortable.
That is until Luke cleared his throat, shaking his head. “C'mere, Michael.”
It was the first time all day that Luke had called Michael by his first name and he was a bit shocked, but he moved over towards Luke slowly.
“I’m so horny.” Luke stated, adjusting his pants. “You know why?”
Michael did, but he wouldn’t let on.
“I sucked some guys pretty cock.”
Hearing the words echo from Luke’s mouth left Michael with his eyes blown wide because honestly, who admits that.
“But I don’t wanna cum.”
Michael looked anywhere but at Luke until the blonde boy moved to sit down on the couch.
Luke patted the seat besides him and Michael bit his lip softly but moved to follow Luke’s direction. As he went to sit down Luke’s hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him slightly so that he was in front of Luke.
Luke’s hands gripped the top of Michael’s jeans as he popped the button, stunning Michael.
“W-what are you doing?” Michael’s voice came out only a drop over a whisper.
Luke ignored the question and instead pulled Michael’s pants down to his knees before pulling the red head down onto his lap, his legs straddling Luke’s right thigh.
“Luke, let go.” Michael was starting to panic, he wasn’t sure what exactly was going on but his body liked it and that confused him.
Luke was mumbling beneath his breath and Michael couldn’t catch what he was saying. He hands moved from holding Michael’s wrists to his ass, which he grasped onto tightly resulting in a whimperish squeak from Michael.
Luke ran one hand over Michael’s stomach teasingly and Michael knew at that moment that whatever was about to happen was going to be good.
Luke looked up at Michael, who was staring down at the blonde boy with eager but hooded eyes.
That’s all it took for Michael shift his hips slightly, feeling his cock catch onto the friction of Luke’s thigh.
He began moving faster, ignoring the squeezing Luke was doing to his butt and rather to how good Luke’s jean clad thigh was making him feel.
“That’s right, ride my thigh.” Luke cooed pulling Michael’s head down and burying his face in his neck roughly, sucking dark marks into the skin as Michael had done earlier to girls as Luke watched.
Michael’s head tipped back slightly and he let out a breathy moan.
Luke pulled off of Michael’s neck, inspecting his handiwork before reaching down to grasp Michael’s boxer covered cock.
“You’re a little too hard to say you’re not gay, Clifford.” Luke teased and Michael groaned. “Do you wanna play a game?”
Michael nodded his head, not even caring anymore.
“I’ll get you off in the next ten seconds and you suck my dick, how’s that sound?”
Michael nodded furiously, because who could turn down that kind of offer.
Luke beamed at the redhead and stroked his cock through his boxers. “You’re such a slut, Clifford. It’s almost comical.”
Michael preened at Luke’s words. He found himself liking being talked down to and called names.
His cock was ever so hard and he knew he was about to cum so he let forth a spew of curses as Luke stroked him over his high.
“You’re such a filthy little whore, Clifford.”
Michael moaned at his words and tried to catch his breath.
“Get on your knees for Daddy.” Luke commanded pushing Michael off of his lap roughly.
Michael dropped down to the floor, his knees shaking slightly and his lower lip between his teeth.
He glanced up at Luke from beneath his lashes, because he was nervous, so fucking nervous.
Luke’s hands were sliding along the waistband of his jeans and Michael felt his mouth watering in anticipation.
Luke raised his eyebrows at Michael. “They’re not going to remove themselves.”
In a second Michael’s shaking fingers were unbuttoning Luke’s tight jeans and pulling them down slowly, trying to ignore the heavy breathing escaping Luke’s lips and how he was looking down at Michael in an almost superior way.
“You know what the A is for?” Luke spoke loudly and Michael jumped in surprise.
He shook his head, staring at the blonde boys plaid boxers, and swallowing the lump in his throat when he saw the faint outline of Luke’s length pressing along his leg, shadowing the boxers.
And Michael almost stopped breathing, funnily enough.
His eyes were wide and he looked up at the younger boy, hoping for some clarification.
When Luke offered no response, Michael bit his lip.
Luke smiled down at the redhead and tangled his hand in Michael’s hair, nudging his face closer to his cock. He pulled his boxers down almost frantically, his grip tight on Michael who was close to drooling as Luke’s thick, pink cock sprang free of it’s confines.
A bit of precum leaked from the tip and Michael licked his lips in anticipation because honestly, Luke’s dick was pretty as hell and Michael really wanted to taste it.
He reached up slowly and trailed his fingers across Luke’s length softly, watching as it twitched under his touch. Michael looked up at the younger boy for reassurance, who in return grasped Michael’s hand in his own and gave his cock a quick pump.
Michael’s mouth opened slightly because Luke was as hard as a rock and Michael loved how smooth and silky Luke’s skin felt under his fingers. He stroked Luke’s cock slowly, shifting closer on his knees before taking the tip into his mouth.
“Just like that, Clifford.” Luke tightened his hand in Michael’s hair and began thrusting into his mouth quickly. “You’re such a good boy.”
Michael felt his cheeks heat up because damn, did he like it when Luke talked to him like that. He moaned around Luke’s cock, loudly, and reached up to massage his balls, wanting nothing more than to please the blonde boy above him.
As if Luke realised Michael’s mini goal, he pulled Michael’s head back slowly, resulting in a pop.
“Let’s try something.”
Luke’s voice was husky and left Michael’s cock twitching with want and his head nodding furiously.
“Open wide.” Luke grasped his hard on in his hand, directing it towards Michael’s open, awaiting mouth.
He thrust into the warm wetness, releasing a tiny moan that Michael couldn’t help but enjoy hearing. But instead of fucking Michael’s mouth, Luke settled for pressing back until his tip was brushing the back of Michael’s throat and the older boy was making tiny gagging sounds that Luke tried blocking out.
“That’s right, Michael, choke on my dick.” Luke mewled out the words and Michael groaned, somehow finding enough air to do so.
He wanted to scream. Luke was so thick and long, and Michael’s jaw hurt so badly but he loved, absolutely loved the taste of Luke, and the way he was completely ignoring the tears that streamed down Michael’s face, and how fucking hot Luke looked as he held Michael’s hair in his hands tightly with his head pulled back slightly so all Michael had to do was peek up at the younger boy and he had a clear line of how wrecked Luke actually looked.
“So good, Mikey.” Luke groaned, his cock twitching and Michael started choking because the lack of air was getting to him and if anything, if even remotely possible, Luke’s cock was hardening and Michael just wanted him to cum already because he was dying to taste the blonde boy.
And then, Luke was cumming and Michael was still choking, but he was okay with that because Luke looked so fucking wrecked and hot and Michael was literally on the edge himself and when Luke pulled out of Michael’s wet mouth, he couldn’t help but start palming himself through his boxers and when Luke commanded Michael to stop, his breathing uneven and his words gurgled, Michael couldn’t help but ignore him because he just made a guy cum, and it was fucking hot.
And when Luke’s hand pulled Michael’s head up and Michael whimpered, maybe it wasn’t Luke’s fault when Michael ended up on his back, his legs spread wide and his hand in his boxers.
But it was completely Luke’s fault when Michael’s boxers ended up on the couch and Luke’s lips were ghosting over Michael’s cock and Michael was begging for his Daddy to suck him off, and maybe, just maybe when Luke ended up pressing two fingers into Michael, it was nobodies fault but his own.
Michael was sobbing loudly, and begging for Luke to stop.
His ass was throbbing, not that he minded, but his cock, god, his cock was so red and angry, it hurt every time Luke thrusted into him roughly and he shifted against the sheets.
Tears streamed down the redheads face rapidly and his ass was so full of cock he wanted to scream, but no matter what he said, how hard he begged, Luke continued to ignore Michael’s pleads for him to take the cock ring off, to let Michael cum.
“You’re such a sadist!” Michael yelled, squealing loudly when Luke pressed against his prostate.
Luke grumbled something and Michael wanted to cry even harder because Luke’s voice was killing him, even just a jumble of words had him ready to scream.
“You fucking love it, slut.” Luke growled out, his hands positioned on Michael’s hips. “You get off on it like crazy, who are you kidding.”
And Michael could do nothing more than moan because Luke reached up to pull Michael’s head back by his hair and Michael really wanted to glare at the younger boy because he didn’t give a shit how ‘hot’ he looked to Luke, his neck hurt from Luke’s constantly pulling.
“Glare at me one more time and you’re not cumming tonight.” Luke said, his eyes narrowing in challenge.
And that’s about the time that Michael stopped being a little kitten and reared his hips back to meet Luke’s who moaned loudly, spewing out curses.
“Yeah, Lukey?” Michael retorted, enjoying every second of Luke’s sounds.
It wasn’t long until Luke was cumming in Michael, for the third time that night, and Michael was moaning loudly and begging for Luke to let him cum to no avail.
“Daddy, please.” Michael pleaded, peering up at the blonde boy who was still thrusting into him wildly.
Luke shook his head and adjusted his position. “I don’t think so.”
“Please.” Michael was on the verge of crying.
He pouted, feeling his cock rub along the sheets and he let out a loud moan.
“Daddy, spank me and call me princess.” Michael begged, a few tears trickling down his cheeks and Luke almost beamed.
His hand collided with Michael’s right buttcheek only seconds later and Michael was whimpering out about how good his Daddy spanked him.
Michael’s cock was painfully hard as Luke flipped him over onto his back, leaving behind the red handprints that marred Michael’s ass.
“You’re so pretty, Mikey.” Luke cooed, trailing his finger up Michaels tummy and enjoying how Michael tensed.
He pulled Michael’s cock ring off, inspecting how red and angry his cock was. Luke chuckled lowly and climbed on top of Michael who was panting heavily and grabbed the redheads hands, holding them tightly to the bed.
“I want you to wreck me, Mikey.” Luke released one of Michael’s hands and grabbed his cock, before sinking down on it, a loud groan coming from him mouth. “Oh god, you’re so big.”
And Michael was seeing stars, Luke was so tight it almost hurt but he looked so fucking good on top that Michael was willing to take any and all pain.
And when Luke started bouncing up and down on the redheads cock and Michael started watching how Luke’s head rolled back and his eyes closed and he looked so fucking messed up and Michael wanted nothing more than to fuck the blonde into next week.
Michael wiggled his hands from Lukes grasp, watching as the blonde fell slightly, his hands catching him and Michael’s hands moved to Lukes hips and then to his back and suddenly Luke was whimpering because Michael was digging his nails into Luke’s back, marking him as his own and Luke was painting Michael’s tummy a pretty white colour and then Michael was cumming because Luke’s cum was so warm on him and his pretty little ass was so tight and he looked so thoroughly fucked and Michael just needed this release.
And Luke was moaning loudly and his lips were attached to Michael’s neck, peppering kisses up and down, sliding over his jaw, landing on the tip of his nose and suddenly, there were lips on his own and Michael grabbed the blonde boys hair tightly, holding him down against him and everything felt good because he had his cock in this tiny boy’s ass and Luke was lovely and his cock was heavy against Michael’s tummy and they both knew that round five would be happening soon and as much as Michael loved fucking Luke he would rather Luke do the fucking because watching his Daddy slowly come unraveled was his favourite pastime.
But Luke was pulling himself off of Michael and Michael was whimpering because god, that boy was still so fucking tight and then Luke was pushing into Michael once again, but instead of thrusting, he laid down on top of the boy, his face in the redheads neck, breathing softly but giving Michael goosebumps.
And once in a while he would thrust up softly and Michael would cry out and Luke would stop.
And it would continue for a few hours because while neither of the boys would say those three little words, it was a little cloud of truth hanging above the two and Michael couldn’t remember when he stopped hating the blonde boy but he sure as hell remembers when he started loving him.
And when Michael came, again, and Luke swirled his finger around in the cum before dipping it into his mouth, who was Michael complain.
Luke pressed a chaste kiss to Michael’s lips, and Michael bit down softly on Luke’s lip ring because he knew Luke liked it when he did that.
“Why do you love me?”
The unspoken word hung in the air and as much as Michael wanted to take back the question because you can’t say love before the other one does, he knew it was now or never, he had Luke’s pretty cock inside of him and if anything went wrong all it took was one shift of his hips and Luke would be fucking him into next week.
“You’re a little kitten.” Luke started, beginning to thrust gently into the older boy. “You used to make fun of me and tease me and I hated you for it until I realised it was because you were so fond of me and then I realised that I was pretty damn fond of you too.”
“Hmm.” Michael hummed in content because while Luke never said he loved Michael, he had answered the question and that was enough for him.
“I love you because you’re tall and cocky and your cock is so pretty.” Michael said as Luke rolled them onto their sides.
He wasn’t sure if he was crossing a line because you can’t just tell your fuck buddy you love him, everyone knows that.
“Love is an awfully big commitment.” Luke rubbed his fingers on Michael’s hipbones softly.
Michael shrugged, not really knowing what to say. His leg was strewn over Luke’s hip as the blonde boy slowly moved in and out of Michael.
It wasn’t rushed or messy and Michael figured he could use a stable vanilla fucking every once in a while.
And maybe, eventually, Luke would be able to say 'I love you’ back to Michael, but for now, Michael was content with how Luke showed it.
look at this gif. just look at this. there’s a little moment when rose falls and her hair also falls through the doctor’s lip and he gives his breath. then closes his eyes. opens and looks at her. all the desire. all the love. and she breathes. this is not what you do when holding a friend. there’s an absolutely a sexual desire. and if this wasn’t a show for all ages, we would see more of it. even the doctor remembers this scene when he sees a blonde girl dancing. dancing has nothing to do with this scene. but dancing has a passion. and so as this.
I’m sorry this took me so long but I’ve been kinda off and tired.
Anyways, la puta loca de @minervaem request for an entire series but I decided to do just two of them and since she loves angst so much, be ready.
Furthermore, this is a College!AU Bucky and the reader of course is named Ivy.
Prompt 11: I’m gonna fucking punch that stupid face of yours. Prompt 61: Don’t you dare say you love me.
The light shining through the curtains
felt like someone was stabbing in your eyes, your already pounding head was not
helping as you tried to move from the spot in which you have slept but
something was blocking your way.
Groaning you decided on opening your
eyes once and for all and what welcomed you made you breathless and your mouth
go dried in the second your orbs were fixated in the strong jaw covered in stubble
which your hands choice to caress, your eyes shut down at the touch that
brought you pieces and bits of imagines of what happened last night.
The college bar where all your
friends usually hang out, the pool table, beer, tequila, too much tequila. Up
to that point everything seemed normal, a typical Friday night for you and your
friends but what came flooding next to your head was something unanticipated
but foreseen by some of your friend: you and Bucky too drunk to walk home
alone, you helping Bucky into his dorm, those lips in your collarbone, that
stubble leaving goosebumps in your thighs…
With an exasperated sigh Zack closed the app and threw himself onto the bed pulling one his new books out of his bag. Without thinking he reached over to the side table searching for his water. “Ah damn.” He cursed as he felt the cool liquid run down his hands and onto the wood. Quickly he grabbed a dishrag from the kitchen gently sopping of the water to keep it from ruining the wood.
‘So how’s Leeann? I haven’t heard you talk about her lately.’
‘We broke up.
‘What!? W-with another one?’
‘It doesn’t really matter. Besides she wasn’t my type.’
‘That’s your fifth girlfriend. I really liked Leeann.’
‘Well that’s not for you to decide is it mom? Maybe I should go out with a guy next.’
‘……….ha ha….. enough teasing Zack, I really can’t understand your sense of humor.’
‘Maybe it wasn’t a joke.’
‘….Enough Zack, now hand me that rag before the wood stains.’
“There, clean.” Zack murmured as he rung out the rag over the sink. He tapped his fingers against the metal sink as he looked over the dishes piling up. “I’ll do that later.”
‘Dad? You completely missed that spot.’
‘Oh really? Whoops.’
‘I can mow the lawn you know.’
‘It’s fine! You have date with Julia right? Hurry up and get ready don’t be late.’
‘I’m not dating her anymore.’
‘What the? When did you get dumped? Ha ha ha! I’m kidding,’
‘No you’re right she broke up with me. Maybe…it’s time I gave up girls.’
‘Grab the weed eater if you’re not doing anything don’t hit the clothesline this time.’
“I gotta log in and do some work.” He mumbled as he sat in front of the computer. “Shit, government and Biology stuff due today. Guess I shouldn’t have messed around so much earlier.” He clicked onto his classes typing up responses to his classmates.
“I agree with you that things have been really hectic in the media. I’m out of country right now so I haven’t been paying attention to American media but”
He froze looking over his notes to make sure he was making sense. He glanced over the name once more as he looked over some websites.
‘Look I don’t know what you’re into but it’s clearly not me.’
‘Every time I try to get you to kiss me or even just hold my damn hand you act like you’re touching something vile.’
‘God just say something!’
‘Again with the I’m sorry’s! You say it so often I don’t think you know the definition of it.’
‘Maybe you need to take a hard look at yourself at in mirror and ask yourself what you like.’
“Damn this is boring.” He tapped his pen against the table in annoyance as he looked at his sloppy handwriting. “I really don’t want to do this.” As if he was pulled to it he opened the RFA app and logged in. Low and behold a perfect distraction was logged in.
Can you write a bit more about the ChosenWan prompts??
“Have you always been able to do that?” Anakin dug into Obi-Wan
and the copper haired master shrugged slightly.
“Not really. I’ve…Anakin, you have to understand, I almost
flunked out of the temple, I was sent to the agricorps.” The man
started carefully, smiling when the blonds eyes went wide in
surprise. “Yes, I was almost not a Jedi.” He sat down on his
couch and mused over the turns his life had taken.
“…Obi-Wan. Talk to me. When Qui-Gon Jinn took me here, it was
“He thought you were the chosen one, the one to bring balance. I
know. I thought about it a lot since then.” The older man sighed.
“I…you remember when I told you that visions passed in time?”
He looked at the blond whose face instantly tightened.
“Last time I relied on a Force vision…was when Qui-Gon got run
through. That’s why I told you that. I didn’t mean for…” He
looked away. “…I never meet your mother Anakin, but I know from
all you said and all Qui-Gon told me, that she was a good woman. She
never deserved what happened to her. But Force visions are delicate
things and sometimes you set them in motions when you try to stop
Anakin stared at him.
“…Fascinating as this is, what does it have to do with…you
being…well…” Ahsoka stared at him to, her blue eyes wide.
“…Because it made me hide.” Obi-Wan stared at his hands. “I
was an almost flunked out Initiate, an almost denounced padawan and a
reluctantly approved knight. How could I possibly be…” Obi-Wan
let himself flop back against the couch and stared at the ceiling of
his quarters, head tilted back.
Anakin stared at the older man as if he’d never seen him before.
Did Obi-Wan really think so little of himself?
He hesitated then stood and slowly sat down beside the other, taking
his hand as Ahsoka did the same on the other side of the man.
“…When you came to me with your vision, I was scared it would
mean the same to you as it had to me. A Jedi’s life is always
dangerous…I thought perhaps you would lead the danger to her. I
never considered how dangerous Tatooine is.” He sat up slowly,
settling his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “And
because of that I sent you sprawling along a darker path.”
Anakin tensed. “Obi-Wan.”
“I know. I always knew. But I have faith in you. Grey you may be,
teetering on the edge of both sides of the Force, you still see the
light.” He sighed and stared at the carpet under their feet. “…My
screams could reach into the core of Coruscant if I wished it.” He
pushed himself of the couch and towards the window, leaving behind
those he cared for most in the galaxy, removing himself from them.
He leaned on the sill as he stared at the traffic. “My will can set
Ahsoka and Anakin traded looks, both of them worried though one being
more obvious then the other.
“I could reach into the very nature of a being and change them from
the inside, change their mind, change who they are.” Obi-Wan lifted
a hand to stare at it, faint sparks coming of it as his hand shook.
Anakin realized something. Obi-Wan was scared.
Obi-Wan was scared of himself.
That prompted him to his feet and made him cross the floor to settle
his hands on the others shoulders, forcing him to look at the young
knight. “You could, but you aren’t going to.” He offered
carefully as the green eyes stared at him, remembering what they
looked like full of fire.
“You Obi-Wan Kenobi is the lightest person I’ve ever had the
pleasure of meeting.” He rested his forehead against the others,
bending a bit to do so. “You’d sooner let yourself bleed out then
to reach for the dark side.”
“…But if those I care for were in danger then I
would…Anakin…I never told you what I did to defeat Darth Maul.”
“Ten years ago. Ten whole years. You are a different man. We are
different.” Anakin clenched his hands on those broad shoulders.
“If you need an anchor, then I know what its like to be different,
I know what its like to be powerful.” He stood straight, stood
firm. Perhaps his master would understand more then Anakin thought,
perhaps this, this reliving of the burden of being the chosen one to
someone who like Obi-Wan was just what the galaxy needed.
And perhaps this was what Anakin needed, to be free to go to Padme
once the war was done.
Obi-Wan stared up at him before slowly smiling. “…You do don’t
you. Well then Anakin…I will trust you to take care of my light and
“Don’t forget me! I’ll help too!” Ahsoka beamed at them,
almost beyond herself at the open conversation between the two.
“Thank you Ahsoka.” Obi-Wan smiled warmly. “I would ask for
your help then for a purpose of great importance.”
it is a familiar word, both in the physical sense and metaphorical. it encompasses every emotion he wishes didn’t exist and denies him of the very emotion he craves. he wants the sweet scent of honey to breathe into his lungs. he wants to see stars before his eyes and become a breathing artwork. but instead, his lungs are contaminated with charcoal and the sticky texture of tar. every time he exhales, the reminder of his new life expresses itself in puffs of black smoke.
he feels the angriest at himself. he’s furious at the way his cries dull into submission by the whisper of ten words. he despises the way his promise of revenge so easily simmers into obedience. but most of all, he hates the way he cannot remember himself. his memories are his life support; they are his oxygen.
and he cannot breathe without them.
one day, he will remember. and it will be a glorious day, in which the clouds depart and the angels peer down at him in awe. when he remembers, he will hug the blonde haired man that fluttered through his dreams as a beacon of hope, and say my friend, my best friend,my memory.
but until then, he is limited to the haunting red star and dark concrete walls of his cell. in a blind fury, he screams to the sky where the ghost of him resides:
“Don’t you remember? DON’T YOU REMEMBER THE PAST? DON’T YOU REMEMBER YOUR MEMORIES? GODDAMMIT, DON’T YOU REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE?”
the memories that craft his soul and extinguish the red star.
THIS IS MY NEW INQUISITOR his name is bjorn and he’s big and quiet and ace and dorian likes to flirt with him because it makes bjorn laugh but what dorian doesnt realise is that bjorn is gay af and would like to hold his hand or something maybe when ppl arent around so dori doesnt get uncomfortable wow gay children….
i don’t know what i’m doing so if you want to punch me in the face after this you know where my askbox is.
The first thing he remembers learning from his father is not to touch things that don’t belong to him, especially if their owner is a dreamer.
One night Niall comes back from one of his usual trips and finds him in mother’s lap, stuttering as he reads aloud from a Winnie the Pooh picture book. He doesn’t know what’s different this time, but he’s being dragged away from her the second his father’s eyes land on him. There’s betrayal in them, and he doesn’t understand why. He gets told he’s already six years old and he should stop clinging to Aurora’s skirts like a baby. Next there’s a letter of acceptance from an elementary school with lions on the crest and a six digits tuition fee shoved in his hands. He cries and shakes his head and tells him he doesn’t want to go but when he wakes up the next morning his uniform is waiting for him at the bottom of his bed.
He’s careful not to let his eyes linger on anything for too long after that, lest it be taken away too.