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edge-oftheworld · 4 months

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you’re allowed to be dumb and passionate. you’re allowed to be overdramatic and drenched in your pain and feel the urge to blame those who stole your youth without meaning to and never figured out how to communicate hope to you. you’re allowed to cry about it. you’re allowed to get high just to feel alive. you’re allowed to miss the signs someone wanted to run and ask for help making sense of it. you’re allowed to keep driving to the edge til you get this right; you’re doing your best and that is the best you can do. it’s okay that when they wish you well after you fucked up you kinda want to die, but in the end you’ll still pay again to keep from stopping it now. apologising to yourself for breaking plans on a Sunday to rest and treating your mind like an ashtray, it’s okay that you’re never one to change and you’re scared to find a piece of peace of mind. to let your love go and fall apart destructively like a landslide and kiss one last goodnight because your heaven ain’t the same. you realised that when you’re cleaning up and there’s bleach in the hallways you can start over, you’re bleaching your hair as a way of figuring out how to go on without someone, it’s baby steps after you burnt the city without warning reaching out for someone’s help. after you took the L and you won’t go home you realise that you still love the heat and the noise and feeling like a tiger in a circus ring again and you still think about the times we were heavy and all your friends are up on mars you’re travelling. after that city broke your heart and you needed someone to pick you up so you don’t have to play pretend and you are human once again and you’re still trying to find the city with the brightest lights. I love to love you for god’s sake. when you pull through yes I’ll feel the same, with a knife inside your heart I feel it too but you kiss away the pain and that’s it, our silver linings, gold and shining, that’s what you do when you love somebody. young man look in the mirror, lights will guide you so run like hell 🤍❤️‍🩹🤍

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thankspete · 1 year

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The Kitchen (c.h.)

This work is part of a series, When Our Friend Isn’t Around. Part 1: The Patio / Part 2: The Kitchen / Part 3: The Living Room / Part 4: The Guest Bedroom

Word Count: 1.7k Rating: T Summary: Being part of the clean-up crew isn’t so bad, after all. | Also on Ao3! Warnings: ~recreational drug use~

The upbeat rock music from earlier has been switched to smooth R&B, quietly trickling from the living room through the rest of the house. The colorful LEDs are off and every light switch in the common space has been flicked on, exposing the spills and crumbs around you. You know it doesn’t make sense, since you’re literally cleaning, but the harsh fluorescence was jarring and your drunk brain wished they’d turn the overhead light off.

According to the digital clock on the microwave, it was 5:23 in the morning. Everyone had begun to file out of the party by 3-ish, with stragglers and close friends bidding their goodbyes closer to 4. It’s not like you were expecting to be in bed by one, but you were really starting to regret promising Ashton you’d help him clean up afterwards.

Calum stuck around, too, given they were hosting together. They were in the living room, chatting and picking up discarded cups and cans, which fell into the garbage bags with light swishes and clinks. You stack the cups strewn around the kitchen on the dining table, alongside the empty boxes of Stella and PBR before rummaging under the sink for Clorox wipes. The first cylinder you grab seems too thin and light to be what you were looking for and you pull it from shadow into your view. An empty can of Mike’s Hard.

“Huh?” Who the fuck threw this under the sink?

“Hey.” A voice startles you and you bump your shoulder on the edge of the cabinet as you exit. Calum’s boots come into your view first, then his flushed face.

“You good if I take these?” He points to the cups on the table.

You nod and toss the can in his direction. “This, too!”

He catches the can in the bag, then puts it down to start breaking down the boxes on the table. You reach back into the cabinet, finding what you were looking for.

“Need help with anything?” He’s shoving the final folded box into the black bag before tying it up. “We’re pretty much done picking shit up, Ash is sweeping right now.”

“Sure. I think I’ve got surfaces covered, wanna help with this sticky puddle I’ve been walking in for the last hour?”

So he does. While you’re wiping down the counters, cabinets, and microwave, Calum raids the storage closet for a Swiffer. It takes him a couple of tries to get the mopping wipe on the head, but he figures it out.

You boost yourself onto the counter, opening up more floor space for him.

“So did Joey end up breaking anything this time?”

A small laugh escapes from his nose. “No, not that I know of.” He glances up at you before returning his attention to the pink stain on the tile. “Not that you were of any help on that front.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You nudge his thigh with your shoe. Unexpectedly, he grabs your ankle, setting aside his mopping task for now.

“I was supposed to keep an eye on him tonight.” He moves closer, maintaining a soft grip on your leg. Sitting up on the counter, you’re practically his height, looking him straight in the face, anticipating his next move. “You kept me a bit distracted.” He moves his hand from your ankle onto the counter to the right of you. You don’t look, but you can sense that there are only millimeters between his thumb and your jeans.

You weren’t quite sure what he meant by that. After Ashton had come out to get you both from the patio around 1:30, you only spoke to him two or three other times. He and Ashton were great hosts, flittering around the room, making sure everyone felt welcome, telling them thank you for coming. It was hardly your fault it seemed he kept gravitating back to you. First it was at the drinks table, when you were pouring your final cup of juice. The second time, he guided you by the elbow to a small crowd hanging out by the speaker and introduced you to them. He stuck around for a few minutes, allowing you to acclimate to these strangers before leaving you to converse with a small tug on your shirt and a wink. You were certain you’d seen Joey leave before 3 anyway, leaning on a friend’s shoulder and stumbling on his way out.

“Seems like you were distracting yourself, Calum.” You motion to the discarded Swiffer, leaning on the cabinets across from you. He was needlessly concerning himself with you again. You couldn’t say you didn’t like it.

“Just wanted’a make sure you were having a good time.” He shrugs and in a moment of rare unbridled confidence (or stupidity), you move your right hand from your lap to resting on top of his.

“What’s your excuse right now?”

His expression remains unchanged, smiling with slightly raised brows, clearly amused by this interaction. You weren’t sure what you were hoping for, but some encouragement would be nice.

He leans in slightly, resting his left hand on the other side of you. “You’re funny, you know that?”

While you missed the blue and purple ambiance lighting, you couldn’t say you were upset about getting to really look at his face for the first time tonight. He is pretty, with full lips and deep brown eyes. His hair is tousled, curls messy from the beanie he had been wearing earlier.

It seems like he hears Ashton coming before you do and takes a quick step back, removing his hands from either side of you. The cold counter feels like it’s burning your skin compared to the warmth of his hand and for the first time, you feel disappointed that your mutual friend showed up. He clomps into the kitchen holding a grimy dustpan and dragging the broom behind him.

“Looks great in here, guys!” Ashton takes a look around the room after disposing of the dirt, dust, and crumbs into the trash. “Need help with anything before I head to bed? M’fuckin exhausted.”

Calum has picked the Swiffer back up by now, wiping the remaining stains from the floor. “No thanks bro,” he says, not even looking up. “I think we’ve got it handled.” You smile at Ashton, corroborating Calum’s statement.

“Fuck yeah. See y’all in the mornin’!” He turns and makes a bee-line to his room, down the hallway from the right side of the living room.

“M’almost done,” Calum says and you jump from the counter to the floor.

“I’m gonna get a reward ready for us.” You turn to leave the room.

“Reward?” He stops mopping for a moment, a little confused.

“For cleaning this man’s house,” you shrug.

You leave him with that and make your way to the coat closet by the front door. Off the top shelf, you pull your backpack from its hiding place. It had pajamas, deodorant, and most importantly, weed. On your way to sit, you turn off the overhead light and flip on a lamp in the corner of the room. You sink into the ratty green couch and pull the rolling tray from the coffee table to your lap. It takes a moment to rummage through your bag for papers, filters, and herbs, but you find them. When everything is laid out, filter folded and ready, you begin your process. First, a layer of marijuana, then a thinner layer of mullein. It’s supposed to be good for sleep, but it tastes like shit, so you cover it with a layer of lavender. Overtop, you place another layer of weed and pick up the paper in a U-shape to begin rolling it shut. Calum comes in from the kitchen while you’re licking the adhesive.

“I see what you mean by reward, now. Pass ‘er over.” He sits just a few inches to your right on the couch. You hand the unfinished joint to him and he flicks it to force the herbs to fall towards the filter before twisting the end shut. You pass him your lighter, a black Clipper, to start off your little smoke circle. He pumpkin-tops it again before lighting it, discarding the leftover paper onto the rolling tray.

“Lavender?” He asks.

“And mullein,” you say, placing the tray back on the coffee table. You turn to face him now, back leaning on the armrest, your bent knee on the couch between you.

“You’re getting me used to this fancy shit, baby. I don’t think I can go back to cutting my weed with straight tobacco.” He passes the joint to you. “Where’d you get all this stuff?”

You smoke before answering. “Online. Herb shops. Witchy stores. Probably farmers markets.” Your fingers brush together when you pass him the joint.

“Mm…think you’ll just be my plug, then. Seems like a lot of work.”

“Ordering from Amazon seems like a lot of work?” You’re a little flabbergasted.

He’s holding the jay between his thumb and forefinger and brings it to your lips to shut you up.

“I can stay out here tonight,” he changes the topic, referring to the pull-out couch you were currently sitting on.

You remove the joint from your mouth by pulling his wrist back, keeping your hand wrapped around his arm.

“You tired yet?”

“Are you?”

You think for a moment, and despite feeling the fatigue in your bones, shake your head. “Still gotta shower, anyway.” You weren’t sure if you were informing him or inviting him. You could tell from the way his clothes fit that his body is probably a sight to behold. See if he’s got any other tattoos obstructed by his shirt…and maybe his pants. No, definitely not inviting him, though the thought was enticing. You remembered the way he stepped back when you were face to face in the kitchen. What would Ash think?

You bring his hand back to your face, take a puff, and let go.

“And when were you thinking of doing that? 8am? We’re wasting moonlight!”

“Pfft.” You pull the joint from his mouth, mimicking his actions on the patio. “After our reward, silly.”

“And your plan after…?”

“Sleep.” You shrug and pass the jay back to him. “Unless you’ve got something else in mind.”

as promised, the next chapter will be spicy <3 i always appreciate feedback, likes, and reblogs! hope u enjoyed :)

#calum hood x reader #calum hood imagine #calum hood oneshot #5sos imagine #5sos blurb #calum hood smut #part 3 is COMPLETE and coming out soon <3

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