Summary: You’re drunk and doubting yourself, but Calum takes care of you.
Warning: smoking and kinda angsty i guess
A/N: this is lame and i’m just trying to push through some writer’s block so I need everyone to bear with me
You pull open the window, stepping through the opening and sitting on the roof outside of your window. Calum follows you, sitting close to you in an attempt to keep warm in the cool night air.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, baby,” Calum mumbles, watching you carefully and eyeing the cigarette between your fingers.
“I never said you had to do it, Cal,” you sigh.
“I know, but somebody has to keep you out of trouble, right?” he asks, wishing he was joking.
You don’t respond, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth. You hate that he thinks that way, thinks he only has to stick around to keep you out of trouble. It wasn’t even that you were smoking because he did that too. It was that you were drunk and sad and sitting on top of a roof that makes Calum feel like he needs to watch you.
You can still feel the beat of the music from the party downstairs. It’s so loud that it practically shakes the whole house, but you and Calum had to get away for a while.
“I’m sorry,” you say, watching your own hands fidget with the cigarette and the lighter.
You put the cigarette to your lips, lighting it. You can’t look at him now, simply watching the smoke fall from your lips.
“For what?” he asks, sounding confused.
“For everything,” you say, shrugging. “For making you feel like you have to babysit me, for dragging you out here to watch me smoke, and - and for being such a shitty girlfriend.”
“Don’t say that,” Calum says. He takes the cigarette from you, placing it between his own lips and breathing in. “You’re not a shitty girlfriend, and I’m not babysitting you. I’m smoking too, you know.”
“Yeah, but you’re not drunk,” you say, watching him blow smoke into the dark sky.
“Just don’t be so down on yourself, please. You’re a good girlfriend,” he mumbles, passing the cigarette back to you.
You don’t say anything else, not wanting to argue with him. You silently finish off the cigarette, watching the sky and avoiding Calum’s gaze. You toss the cigarette off the side of the roof, standing up. Calum stands quickly too, afraid you’ll stumble and fall if he’s not there to help you through the window.
“I’m fine,” you tell him.
You step back into the house with the help of Calum’s steady hand on your arm. He follows behind you, shutting the window once he’s inside.
“Are you going back down there?” he asks.
You sit down on the edge of your bed, shaking your head. “No, it’s Michael’s party anyways.”
He nods, sitting down beside you. “I know you’re drunk, but I meant it.”
“Meant what?” you ask.
You don’t even think about what you’re doing when you throw a leg over his lap and turn to straddle his waist. He looks shocked, but his hands rest on your waist to steady you anyways.
“You’re a good girlfriend,” he tells you again.
You watch him, holding his gaze when he says that. You nod, mumbling, “Thank you.”
He hums, leaning forward and kissing you. He leaves several kisses on your lips, one of his hands moving from your waist to hold your cheek. “I love you,” he says.
“I love you too,” you mumble, pulling him closer for a longer kiss.
You nibble on his lower lip, trying to make him deepen the kiss. He only lets out a groan and pulls away. His hands fall on your thighs.
“You’re drunk,” he says.
“So? You’re my boyfriend,” you tell him, trying to pull him closer again.
“You’re drunk,” he repeats, shaking his head.
You whine when he stands up, lifting you up with him. He turns and places you on the bed before climbing into bed beside you. He puts his arm around you, pulling your body close to his side.
“Maybe when you’re sober,” he whispers, laughing a little as you settle against his chest.
a kind of sort of not really criminal mastermind/outlaw au based on/inspired by “young god” by halsey
word count: 3526
Coming down was always the worst part. When you were high off the adrenaline, you felt on top of the world. You felt invincible -- like nothing could touch you, like nothing could hurt you. When you arrived back at your safe house though, when the events that had just happened and the magnitude of those events came crashing down on you as the adrenaline wore off, that was always the worst part. The thrill of speeding down the streets and cutting through alleyways -- your surroundings a blur from how fast you were driving, the gas pedal pushed all the way down, with cops hot in pursuit, unable to catch you no matter how many of them there were -- always managed to get pushed to the back of your mind as the worries and paranoia you kept buried clawed their way to the surface. At the bottom of the swimming pool seemed to be the only place you could ever escape those thoughts, their loudness only ever able to be drowned out by the water in your ears.
Before you'd even met Calum, you'd already known of him; everyone's words were always the same, always warning you that he was "bad news" and to "stay away from him" because "he's not the kind of person you want to get involved with." You nearly laughed every time, thinking -- without even actually knowing him -- that from the way people spoke of him, he sounded like a parent's worst nightmare, someone a parent would describe as a part of "the wrong crowd." Personally, you thought everyone was just being dramatic and at the worst, Calum was just another fratboy player heartbreaker. A dime a dozen, really. There was always at least one on every college campus and Calum just seemed to be the most notorious and infamous at yours. You didn't see the need to go out of your way to avoid him, but you also didn't concern yourself with becoming acquainted with him either.
Your paths crossed at -- of course -- a frat party, your eyes meeting when he'd (for some reason) looked up from down the shirts of the girls that were surrounding him in the corner they all stood in -- as if they were a part of his own personal harem -- right when you'd walked into the room. The thoughts you'd had in that moment were entirely cliché, but clichés were the only way you could use to describe how you'd felt in that moment -- the way time seemed to slow to a complete stop, the way it seemed like you two were the only people in the room, the way he sent shivers down your spine and gave you goosebumps with just a look, and the way the atmosphere suddenly felt electrified with the potential -- or maybe the promise, now that you thought about the moment in hindsight -- of something legendary.
Still, you didn't see yourself as the type to make the first move, but apparently -- considering the number of girls that flocked to him, drawn in by his good looks and nice body -- neither was Calum. You were sure that the only reason you two spoke was because he'd separated himself from his harem long enough to grab another bottle of beer at the same time you'd entered the kitchen to fill up another red plastic cup.
Seeing as you two had been the only people in the kitchen and the party was being thrown by his own frat, you figured he must've felt obliged to at least ask you if you were enjoying yourself, if only to be polite and act as a good host. Even from your small talk, there was that electricity in the air again and the unspoken consensus between the two of you seemed to be that your interaction wasn't ending there, which lead to the two of you downing your drinks before making your way to the dance floor. The electricity between the two of you seemed to only magnify there, his hands immediately finding a place on your waist, your body pressed back against the length of his as you two grinded to the music of artists like Chris Brown and Drake and The Weeknd. With each song that finished, his reservations shed away to reveal his true boldness, his hands roaming your body, moving up under your top and down past your hips to your ass -- no matter where his hands moved though, there was no doubt that his fingers set your skin alight with everywhere he touched, making you feel as if you were being set on fire not only on the outside, but on the inside too.
He seemed to be on the same page as you were -- if the hardness against your thigh were anything to go by -- and so, you weren't surprised for him to lead you two upstairs to his room, where your lips connected as soon as he had the door closed behind him and your clothes were shed as quickly as possible. Considering all your haste to get undressed and to get him inside you, you were surprised that he'd forced you two to slow down when only your undergarments separated your bodies from being bare and pressed up against each other. You lay underneath him on his bed as he hovered above you, propped up by his forearms to keep his weight off you. In a surprisingly and unexpectedly show of tenderness, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, murmuring, "Oh, baby girl, don't get caught on my edges."
"I think I can handle myself," you laughed, unable to help yourself. Despite you two being very close to having sex, his words made him sound just like everyone else who'd warned you about him.
He raised his eyebrows, looking equally amused at the fact that you'd found humor in what he'd said, and then pressed his lips to your neck. "I'm the king of everything and oh, my tongue is a weapon," he whispered, just before biting down and making you arch your back as a soft moan fell from your mouth, his tongue soothing over the spot where a mark would appear shortly.
He shifted his body, moving to put his weight entirely on one arm so he had a free hand to trace down your body, feeling his hand gently make its way down your side. "There's a light in the crack that's separating your thighs," he continued, brushing his hand against your underwear. The sudden touch where you needed him the most made you rut into his hand, causing him to chuckle. "And if you wanna go to heaven you should fuck me tonight."
You actually whined when he'd pulled his hand away, telling him that you two would be fucking if he hadn't stopped you two earlier, which seemed to be the only reassurance he needed and you two picked up right where you'd left off. Perhaps it was in that moment that you knew -- knew that he could make you willingly sin, either for him or with him.
You didn't think you'd spend any more time with Calum after your night together, considering he wasn't the type to date and you weren't the type to date boys like him, but you started seeing him around campus more -- whether by coincidence or lessened tunnel vision -- and as life would have it, you two found yourself in each other's company once again; this time, at a small get together at his friend Ashton's apartment.
You hadn't even thought about the possibility of him being there when your friend had invited you to tag along with her -- because she and Ashton started talking recently and she wanted you there for moral support -- but with comparatively fewer people in a comparatively tinier space, you couldn't avoid interacting with him even if you tried.
As the night winded down, you and Calum had stolen a bottle of rum from Ashton's kitchen and wandered around the campus, talking about anything and everything that came to mind, before somehow ending up on the rooftops of one the buildings. The fact that being up on the rooftop could land you two into trouble didn't even occur to you two until you saw a campus security guard from below, looking up at you two as if he were trying to decipher if you two were actually there. When he pulled out his flashlight, ready to uncover you two from the sheath of darkness that hid you two, you two knew then was a good a time as any to drop to the ground, lying flat on your backs.
In all your time at this school, you had never once come remotely close to being in trouble and although you were worried about getting caught and facing the consequences -- whatever they may be -- you couldn't deny the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins. As if he could hear the way your heart beat just the slightest bit faster, he reached over and linked your hands together. He gently squeezed in reassurance, but all that did was make your heart beat even faster and when he turned on to his side to kiss you, you thought that your heart just might burst out of your chest.
You didn't really have time to savor the moment when his soft, plush lips pulled away from yours because you could just faintly hear the sound of heavy footsteps moving up the stairwell. So did Calum from the expression on his face -- momentarily pensive before turning mischievous -- as he suggested, "I think it's time we make a run for it."
With your hand still in his, he led you two towards the stairway and you two all but flew down the steps, racing past the security guard and ignoring his attempts to get you two to stop running from him. You two ran and ran and ran and your legs felt like they were burning and your lungs felt like they weren't getting enough air, but you felt alive. You two didn't stop running until you were safely hidden away in Calum's room once again, where you two immediately collapsed onto his bed, laying side by side, fingers brushing against each other's.
When you felt as if your breathing was finally evening out again, that was when Calum spoke, his voice almost quiet as he proclaimed, "You know the two of us are just young gods."
Young god.
The phrase had always stuck with you since that night and to this day, you weren't sure if it was because of the phrase itself or because of the fact that night seemed to mark the real beginning of you and Calum.
Dating seemed to be such a novel idea for both you and Calum -- the whole dating process and just the concept in general. Putting that label -- just any labels in general, really -- on you and Calum just seemed to be too much. You two were just exclusively spending time together, simple as that. Before love was even factored into the equation though, you knew that what you had with Calum you wouldn't find in anyone else. No one else made you feel the way Calum did. Being with him was exciting. No matter what you two were doing -- whether you two were just relaxing or getting up to potential trouble -- your heart always seemed to beat faster than usual. You imagined that people turned to drugs to feel the way that you did when you were with Calum. He was addicting.
You should've known from that night, the night he declared you two young gods, that being with Calum would be more than just being with a fratboy who was majoring in business.
Had you realized that sooner, you wondered if you would've pursued a relationship with him anyway.
One night, you two had been hanging out in his room at the frat house, watching Spring Breakers; or, at least, you had been initially, before the movie was forgotten in favor of making out and getting each other's clothes off so you could get each other off.
You two had gotten naked and all he had to do was put a condom on, both of your expressions being filled with anguish when he realized he was out of condoms. Neither of you wanted him to rely on pulling out -- because neither of you wanted to risk becoming parents at a young age -- and so the next solution was to simply ask one of his frat brothers for a condom, but almost everyone seemed to be either out of the house or just not have one on hand, which forced you two to put your clothes back on and trudge down to the local corner store.
In your haste, neither of you had bothered to remember your wallets -- just another setback on the ever increasing list -- but deciding that since you two were only there for condoms, you two figured that there wouldn't really be any harm in pocketing them and the store employee -- a balding, middle-aged man who looked like he hated his life and would literally rather be anywhere else -- was none the wiser.
That was how everything started, you supposed.
At first, while you two were still at school, the crimes were petty -- stealing small items here and there that you two knew you could afford, but were just more interested in taking, knowing you wouldn't get caught. Then, when you two had graduated and were working minimum-wage jobs because no where was hiring, living in a dingy apartment whose rent you could barely afford and left you with just barely enough money to get by, the crimes became larger.
You remembered the night where you'd felt like you'd almost hit rock bottom. Sure, you had a college education (though what did a degree matter if no one was hiring anywhere?) and you had a boyfriend who loved you as much as you loved him, but looking on the bright side was hard when you'd come home from your waitressing job -- where you spent your long and grueling shift entirely on your feet and dealing with almost entirely rude, demanding, and entitled customers -- to no electricity and found yet another late rent notice on the counter. The only reason you didn't just completely break down and cry was because you didn't want to worry Calum, choosing instead to just get in bed with him, hoping that being held by him would bring you some comfort, even if only temporarily.
With your head resting on his bare chest and your legs tangled together, he had an arm rubbing up and down your back and the other playing with your hair, telling you, "Oh, baby girl, you know we're gonna be legends."
"Yeah?" you wondered, hoping your response didn't sound as half-hearted as you thought it seemed to.
You knew that Calum had seen the late rent notice and known that your apartment had no electricity and was only trying to make you feel better, but at the moment, just the thought of being able to afford a decent apartment and all your utilities seemed like a farfetched dream, let alone being 'legends.'
"Yeah," he confirmed. "I'm the king and you're the queen and we will stumble through heaven."
He started painting a picture of this so-called 'heaven' and you let your eyes shut close as he spoke, envisioning his words as he described housing better than your shitty apartment -- better than any form of housing, really -- and a life filled with so much wealth that you two wouldn't even know what to do with it all. A small smile graced your face at the enthusiasm in his voice, at the positivity and sureness.
"If there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes," he added.
The smile on your face widened, always loving how even in the darkest of times, he was a light that never went out. He was the sun in your eyes and you welcomed being blinded by his brightness.
Your breathing started to slow as you began to doze off. Just before you fell asleep though, you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head and then heard him murmur, probably more to himself than to you, "I know you wanna go to heaven, but you're human tonight."
That was when you two started stealing money, the amount you two took only increasing with each success. You two stole enough to get back on your feet -- enough to even move out of your dingy apartment and into a nicer one where you could afford all the utilities.
You didn't think that your crimes would ever lead you to this point. Yet here you were -- the house that you now called a home more like a castle, with more money than you could ever have hoped to earn making an honest living, your crimes large enough to brand the two of you as unmasked criminal masterminds, as outlaws.
Two feet became submerged underneath the water and you figured that now was a good a time as any to return to the surface, using your legs to push yourself upwards until your head emerged from the water, gasping for air as you finally took a breath.
You swam over to where Calum sat on the edge of the pool, treading water in front of him and looking up at him as he remarked, "You could compete in water sports with how long you're holding your breath."
Placing your hands on the edge of the pool, you pushed yourself out of the water to sit beside him, gratefully taking the plush, white towel he extended towards you. "As fun as I imagine competing in sports would be," you began as you dried yourself off, "I don't think I want any unnecessary attention on me."
Calum laughed, moving to stand on his feet and watching you follow suit before he started walking out of the room. "If you compete in water sports, I'll compete in soccer," he proposed.
"Don't use me as an excuse to pursue your childhood dream," you snorted, draping the towel around your shoulders now.
He laughed again and then wrapped his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to his side, apparently not caring that your body was still damp and that you smelt of chlorine. "Do you think you'd like the water so much if we--" He paused, seemingly thinking over his next words carefully. "--if we had made a more honest living?"
"Not this much, no," you quietly admitted.
He didn't say anything else and neither did you while you two walked through the house to get to your shared bedroom -- him stripping down to his boxer briefs before getting under the covers while you headed towards the bathroom to wash the scent of chlorine off you.
After your shower, you were surprised to find him still awake, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. You got under the covers, turning on your side to face him, and admired his profile -- admired his high cheekbones, his plump lips, his strong jawline. You lay in silence, waiting for sleep to persuade your eyes to flutter shut, until he spoke, asking, "Do you regret choosing me? Choosing this?"
He turned his head to look at you and you tried to figure out what he was thinking, what he was feeling, but his expression gave nothing away and you couldn't pinpoint any singular emotion in his eyes.
"What's making you think about this?" you asked instead.
He sighed, turning his head to look back up at the ceiling. "You're my person, you know?" he said. "And, I'm glad you are, but, I don't know." He sighed again, bringing a hand up to run it through his hair. "I guess this just isn't what I would've chosen for you. You deserve better than this."
"Hey," you started, cupping his chin in your hand and forcing him to look at you again, "we're in this together, until the end. We're young gods, remember?"
He smiled and then scooted his body more towards you, so that you two were lying closer together. You moved your head to rest on his chest, feeling your own heart rate pick up at the knowledge that his own heart was beating faster.
"We're young gods," he agreed.
Had you known what you knew now about Calum -- knew how your life would turn out by getting involved with Calum -- when you first met him, you couldn't say you would've continued ahead anyway. But even before you two had entered this life of crime, you'd known that Calum was your person.
yo, you and luke look like a couple..... like those are legit some cute ass boyfriend/girlfriend pics! you're honestly so gorgeous, literally a goddess i cannot believe it ahdkcklg like i first saw your pictures and looked right past luke & was like wow, she's so pretty fml haha
omg ur so lovely this made me smile so much thank you <3
What it's like being Michaels little sister (age 13ish)
of course he’d tease you and call you “baby sis” even though you insist that you’re not a baby anymore but michael still remembers you wrapped up in that little blanket and begging your mother to hold you only to be told to sit down first because he got so excited and your mother didn’t want him to drop you but of course michael never dropped you because even at his young age he promised to never hurt you. and when he was away on tour he’d text and call whenever he could just to ask how schools going and make sure that no one was messing with his baby sister. and you’d never forget about that little crush you had on calum because michael wouldn’t let you forget since he always made little jokes when calum came around. and he’d be so protective especially when you started coming home from school crying only for him to find out that some girl at school has been bullying you and he’d take it upon himself to stop her since nobody messes with you but him. and believe me, when “that dick you call your boyfriend” makes you cry he’d have a few choice words for that kid only after he pulled you into the tightest hug and promised an ice cream and movie night that night to make you feel better.
"Can i kiss you on the cheek?" You nervously ask the boy who means the world to you. Michael, and all the boys really, had been known to turn down such requests, so it made you fidget asking to do so. You didn’t want him to feel like you were imposing on his personal space or anything.
“Well, will your lipstick come off on me?” He asks, pointedly looking at the bright pigment on your lips.
“Um, I don’t know” you answer truthfully. Even if you had known it would stain his skin, you probably would have said the same. “I’ve never really kissed anyone with it on before” you giggle.
He smiles at you, portraying a look of fondness that you miss, but the few stray fans hanging around see clear as day.
“Well then I guess we’ll find out” and with that he shuffles closer to you, turning his face toward the camera, slightly tilting his head at a better angle for you to reach.
Placing one had on his opposite cheek, you begin to lean in, eyes on the space you wish your lips to land on. Your friend has her phone in her hand, ready to capture the moment, when Mikey suddenly swivels toward you. Before you can pivot out of the way, his lips are on yours and you practically go cross eyed.
Every single detail about him goes sharp in your mind. The warmth of his stubbly jaw under your smooth palm, his nose pressed against the side of yours, the strong smell that’s completely Michael and the way his plush lips slot against your own. Every aspect of the gentle kiss is causing your throat to close up, butterflies trying escape out of your stomach and through your mouth.
His hand is placed on the curve of your waist as he begins to lean away, and your hand drops heavy as lead from the side of his face. You’re in about as much shock as the others standing around you, mouth open in utter surprise.
“Did any of it come off on me?” And damn right you’d take every chance you could get to inspect that boys lips. Sure enough, there was the slightest bit of lipstick right under his bottom lip.
Nodding, you reach up and drag your finger along it, smudging it onto your own skin once again. Your heart’s beating fast and it was surprising you were even breathing at this point. There’s nothing you can do but stare at him, unbeknownst that your effect on him has gone far beneath his exterior and is flowing through his veins, seeping into every organ and muscle.
The kiss has made you both loose so much more then your breath, but your thought process and ability to speak as well.
“Guess you can now say you’ve kissed someone with that lipstick on.” He breathes into the space between you two. His words stick on your brain as if glued there, watering your reply down to a simple hum of acknowledgment.
“Fuck, I don’t even know what to say.” And he looks down blushing, embarrassed at his lack of intelligent sentence structure at the moment.
“Well,” you start, wondering how your lips began moving when your brain still couldn’t process anything. “How about I give you my number, so you can call me later when you’ve thought of something to say.” And damn, did that really just come out of your mouth? How??
So you prepare yourself for the rejection you’re bound to receive after asking such a stupid question, when he begins to nod his head. “That sounds good” he whispers, bashfully looking up at you with sparkling eyes under his long lashes. His hand,placed still on your waist, awkwardly moves away to pat around for his phone, feeling for it in one of his pockets.
After unlocking it and pulling up the phone application, he hands it over to you. Cursing the slick exterior of an iPhone, you pray to God the shakiness of your hand can calm down for just a few seconds so you can type in your number without dropping it.
Giving it back, you both shyly part ways after he promises to call you, walking to the car where the other boys are waiting. As soon as the door is pulled open for him, you see three other bodies push themselves towards the opening, making a load of ruckus. Before the door is closed again, he waves goodbye to you from his seat, and you hesitantly wave back, grinning from ear to ear.
Turning back to your friend she looks on the verge of collapse. “Holy. Shit. I cannot believe that just happened.” And yeah, you couldn’t either. And you definitely couldn’t believe it when an unknown number called you that night as you laid in bed, answering it to hear the same voice you spoke to earlier that day.
The same voice that would keep you up late at night, and fill you with feelings you never knew existed before. The same voice that would one day confess that you mean the world to him.
michael never came to school, well until you transferred there. he often came to school just to sit beside you in calculus and ask for your help. he loved passing you in the hallway to see you smile at him. and one day, he’d see you sitting on the curb after school with your phone in your hand scrolling through something unimportant and he would stop, standing over you “hi.” you’d look up, startled to see that anyone was even still around. the only reason you were was because your ride had abandoned you. “hey, mikey” you’d smile up at him. he’d sit down on the curb beside you asking you why you were still around and when you told him the story of your ride ditching you, he’d quickly offer you a ride home. “you’d do that?” you’d ask really not wanting to be a bother, but when he smiles and laughs a little while nodding, you agree. “you know, on second thought” he says, leading you through the lot to where his car is parked “how about we go get something to eat and then i’ll drop you off, yeah?”
this is really shitty, oh and sorry about disappearing for like a week :/
