Call me Out (CM)

“Soo what are we doing again?” I ask for the fifth time, hugging my arms to my chest. It was an unusually cool evening in LA and although my bottom half was covered appropriately in a pair of jeans, I had on only a tube top leaving my bare arms covered in goosebumps.

“Well Rick forgot his ID and so did Omar and Anth’s still on the damn phone.” My friend sighs. “So I don’t know!”

“Just go to the club without us!” Rick says for the millionth time and I seriously wonder why we didn’t do just that. “We’ll come next time.”

“The whole point was to go together since we’ve all finally got fake IDs.” Omar pouts. “They can go if they want. But-”

“We could go to one of those all-age clubs-”

“No! No, those suck-”

“I have an idea.” My friends all pause at the new voice. It was Anth’s friend Conor who he introduced us to earlier that evening. We’d all said hello and included him in the group without a question even though he was obviously British and not from around here. Which we all secretly thought was really cool…but were just too LA to admit. But Conor hadn’t gone unnoticed for me-catching my eye and sending my heart racing. Not only because he had the same accent as my favourite movie ever made at the time (Bridget Jone’s Diary) but he was cute in a way that wasn’t intimidating. “Those of us with ID can get the beer and we can find some place to hang out.” Conor licks his lips. “We can still make the most of the night that way.”

All eyes are on the group newbie until Omar speaks up, obviously relieved from his fomo: “You’re genius. Let’s do that.”

“Okay, my basement’s empty we can head there. So how about Y/N goes and…” Malia stares at our newcomer for an uncomfortable second as she blanks on his name.

“Conor.” I cut in. “Conor and I will go.”

At the sound of his name, Conor looks up sharply at who said it. I feel myself blushing clumsily as I try not to look as excited as I felt but I couldn’t help it! I would finally get some time alone to get to know my sudden new crush.

Since the closest liquor store was right up the street, Conor and I head off and tell the gang we would meet them at Malia’s. As we walk, I’m nervous. I fold my arms into myself, and then unfold them, and fold them again before Conor offers his leather jacket.

“Oh I’m fine,” I say politely. Damn. I wasn’t fine in any way. But I couldn’t just accept his-

“No take it. I’m warm.” Conor begins stripping the jacket off before I could politely decline again. “I’ve got a jumper underneath anyway.”

“A jumper?” I ask, looking at the sweatshirt he wore underneath and back up at his face.

“Yeah,” he picks the fabric up to show me. “A jumper?”

I take the jacket from him and eagerly drape it over my shoulders; its leftover warmth blankets my body. “Is that like, a British thing?” I ask, intrigued and still staring at him, forgetting we should be continuing our walk instead of standing under the street lamp.

“I don’t know…I guess?” Conor seems just as nervous as me as he shoves his hands into his pocket. I tug the jacket closer around my body which catches his attention, his eyes roaming all over me. I sense a shift in him, almost unnoticeable except in the way that he finally meets my gaze.

“You’ve got really nice eyes,” he says and then immediately looks away.

“Thanks,” I laugh nervously. “You’ve got a really toasty jacket.”

He looks back up, his cheeks a slight pink under the sodium lights, and his tensed face melts into a smile that warms me up from the inside. He has a playful glint as he tugs at the jacket’s lapel, “I’m a hot guy-didn’t I already say?”

He was hot. But I don’t stroke his ego. I turn away instead, continuing again on our trek to the store, calling out behind me. “If I remember correctly the only thing you said was you were warm!”

He laug loudly into the night and the ice between us. We begin talking and asking about the other, greedily tearing up the rare time alone, wanting to know each other as well as we could before we had to return to our group. By the time we get into the liquor store I’ve told him about growing up in LA, how I hated school, and how my brother drove me crazy and he’s told me about the town he’s from, his younger brother and sister, and why he was in LA–to work on music. And I was impressed, he was only my age.

“So are you any good?” I ask him as we track down the aisle with the cheaper beer. We’re the only ones inside so we try not to draw too much attention.

“No. Not yet,” he laughs and his face does the squinty thing I’d started to find adorable. I stare at him as he leans down and picks up two cases.

“Well will you let me hear it? When it is good?” I ask seriously.

He straightens up and turns to me, nodding his head vigorously. “Yeah,” he answers, his voice suddenly serious. “I will.”

Two Years Later:“I’ve heard it then,” I’m on the phone with Conor as I look out the taxi window into the crowds of tourists. I was on my way to my boyfriend’s place and the radio surprised me with a familiar voice. “Your song just came on the radio and I’ve finally heard it!”

“I was on the radio?” Conor asks from the other side of the world. I wished he was here to hear it with me so I could see his reaction myself. “You heard me in LA?”

“I’m in a taxi,” I say. “And I’d recognise your stupid voice anywhere.”

“And?” Conor asks, not hiding his excitement at all.

“It’s still not good-I told you to only show me when-”

“Shut up!” Conor shouts and I have to move the phone away slightly as his belly-laugh emenates from the phone. “You’re a little shit!”

“No!” I insist. “You’re shit!”

“Don’t say that,” Conor’s humour is slowly leaking out of his voice and I decide I’d taken the joke far enough.

“It’s-as you would call it-bloody amazing! I was totally kidding. The song. Is. Amazing.”

“Really?” Conor asks, his excitement apparent again.

“Yes!” I shout. “You should be so proud of yourself! Soon you’ll be as big as Beiber!”

We go back and forth as he shies from the compliments and finally accepts them. We move onto the cliffnotes version of life updates before I reach my destination and tell him I had to go. This was the way it had been with Conor and I over the two years we’d known the other. After an intense first time hanging out, we’d eased up and stuck to the safe option of being good friends. The constant distance between us and the fact that we shared a mutual friend group, prevented us from hooking up-if things went south, it would be very awkward. Plus, we were both busy figuring out our own futures. Mine, currently, was going to school so I could get into acting.

But I still couldn’t control my erratic heartbeat whenever I spotted Conor in LA. There was an undeniable attraction, made stronger with the easy chemistry we had. He had a pull on me none of my other crushes or boyfriends ever had. But after a few weeks every time, I had to let Conor go back home to London and as painful as it was each time, it would be made more painful if we were anything more than friends. So I simply chalked it up to a juvenile crush and forced myself onwards.

One Year Later: “Y/N…” Conor pulls his pants onto his hips and secures it with a belt. “I don’t know what to-”

“It’s fine,” I laugh like I thought everything that had happened over the last 10 hours was all one big joke. But my hands shake under the covers and I have a hard time looking him in the eye.

I had turned 21 yesterday and my boyfriend dumped me the morning of because I was being too “clingy”. He was leaving in the afternoon, flying out across the country for some modelling jobs he’d landed and I was mildly upset he had to leave on my birthday. Meanwhile, Conor suprised me at my apartment, completely oblivious, with birthday champagne and a balloon he’d stuck a picture of his face on. It was his only free night because he had to fly out the next morning.

But he’d found me: mascara on my cheeks, crumpled pyjamas, and a fistful of tissues. He sat and listened so patiently before helping me clean up. Once I’d cried it out however, the inevitable happened. We popped the champagne, swore at my ex, drank the bottle between us, and then reached for each other. Because of loneliness or our long history, we ended up in bed. My bed. And I wish I hadn’t drank so much so I could remember even half of it but as soon as I woke up I knew I fucked up. I was simultaneously heartbroken over my ex and absolutely gutted that my first time with Conor was under circumstances like this.

"You were comforting me. We’re both adults now and we made an adult decision right? It’s fine.” I sit up, making sure the blankets were wrapped tight around my torso. Conor looks at me hesitantly, his hands dropping to the side and he looks just as gutted. We weren’t supposed to let this happen. Not like this. We knew eventually we would sleep together with all the sexual tension we had between us-but never ever like this. This felt cheap…we could barely even remember it.

“So you’re okay I have to go again?” Conor asks slowly.

“I’m fine. You have a life to go back to.” I say more confidently than I felt-I didn’t want to be clingy again. And what would I even say if I wasn’t okay? It was a stupid question to ask. “And my shift starts in a couple hours anyway-acting doesn’t pay the bills!”

Conor throws his shirt on before sitting beside me. He looks down at my hands clasped around the covers and then my collar where the pendant I always wore rests. He picks it up and rubs it like I usually did when I was nervous. It was hard to reconcile the person Conor put on in public to this gentler version of him in my bedroom. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’ll see you on the big screen soon enough.”

“You’ll only see me when I’m good enough,” I give him a wry smile, calling him out. He drops the necklace, his hand curving around the back of my neck. For a split second I think he was maybe going to kiss me again but he kisses my forehead instead. I close my eyes, stretching the brief millisecond into an hour, or two, or five. I create some alternate timeline where I can do this all over, so that when Conor kisses my forehead it doesn’t feel cheap with regret and stink of pity.

Fourteen Months Later: “It’s nothing!” I pull my hand out of Malia’s grip but she grabs my hand again.

“You call that a promise ring?” She asks skeptically of the diamond ring my boyfriend had gifted me yesterday evening.

“Promise ring?” Anth asks as he comes back with Conor who’d arrived late-a bad habit we’d all gotten used to. I try to stuff my hand back into my hoodie but Conor catches the light glinting off the diamond. I don’t want to see his expression but I can’t help but watch as it falls, a look of betrayal settling in. It wasn’t my fault-not really. Conor and I kept up a false pretense of being friendly after the last time we saw each other but we unravelled quickly the longer we went without addressing it. How could we be the same when we suddenly carried so much baggage?

Our relationship suffered. Meanwhile, my boyfriend came back to LA on his knees begging for forgiveness. He had been stressed out about his shoots and he regretted our breakup as soon as he’d landed at JFK. So I kept my own regret from that night to myself and taken him back. A month in and we’d moved to New York for the year where he modelled and I miraculously landed a very small Broadway part. When we moved back, he’d given me the promise ring. That was last night. Malia messaged me this morning to tell me the gang was in town and we were meeting up again. I didn’t realise Conor would be there too. Our conversations had fizzled out once he realised I’d moved to New York with my boyfriend.

“Y/N’s settling down,” Anth teases. “Y/B/N is making a wife out of you!”

“It’snot an engagement ring guys!” I insist but it sounds false even to me. It was supposed to be one. But the look of horror on my face when my boyfriend got on one knee at the beach had him stuttering and then insisting it was just a promise ring. So I had accepted like the coward I was because I was too scared to be on my own again. Three years of our relationship and Anth was right-I wassettling.

“That’s a big ass diamond,” Conor jokes but it has a sharp edge to it. “Good for you. So uh-I’m getting a drink.”

When I track Conor down, away from the group, he’s stony faced.

“It’s been a while.” I say, feeling like that first night we met when I didn’t know how to talk to him.

“Yeah,” his eyes flick down to my hand. “A lot’s happened it seems.”

“Con-” I try.

“I’m alright.” Conor cuts me off.

“No. You’re not.” I call him out.

He clenches his jaw, glancing at me and then sighing. “I know we fucked up Y/N but why did we just stop talking? You’re bloody engaged and why am I only finding out now? I’ve never even met your boyfriend!”

“It-I know-it’s complicated. We…complicated things!”

“It shouldn’t be complicated! It was just sex!” Conor shouts. “It wasn’t complicated! I’m still your friend!”

“Right…” I look down and try to blink away the sudden tears. That all it was to him? “Right. Yeah of course…obviously-duh! It was! I just got…I was unsure! I didn’t know what you thought about it. But I’m cool if you are. We’re still friends?”

“Yes we’re still fucking friends!” Conor is instantly a ball of sunshine as we slip off our past like an oversized, stuffy jacket. I grab his hand and intertwine our fingers, trying to toss out the confused emotions I was feeling. Conor squeezes my hand and I snap out of my thoughts to his smiling face and when he looks at me it feels like that night, I first saw him smiling under sodium lights. When we wouldn’t even know this was how we would turn out. I wish I could go back then. Maybe tell Y/N to keep things simple.

As his mouth moves to tell me something, I can’t focus as my head buzzes with the words he’d said earlier. But maybe it’s better this way, I think. I didn’t want to end up hating Conor, or be hurt by him, when I cared for him this much. I would just have to see it his way, I decide. Just sex. Only friends. “-always your friend.”

One Year Later: “Happy birthday!” I shout at Conor. He was in LA for his 24th and the party was massive. Like this-many-people-could-never-fit-in-my-house massive. “Look at you! You’re so spoiled now!”

Conor crushes me against him-it had been a good six months since I’d seen him. I was travelling all over for a movie I’d gotten a small role in and barely had time to see friends let alone Conor. I missed his energy. And he was super famous now too. Somewhere between seeing him last on New Year’s, breaking up with my boyfriend and moving out, auditioning like crazy, and finding a role-Conor had blown up online and my heart swelled every time I saw his ad or his music somewhere. Despite our messy mishap, I’d realigned myself to realise Conor and I could only ever befriends.

“I love your jumper,” I say-the term an inside joke by now.

“This is actually a hoodie.” Conor teases.

“Fuck I can never get the terminology right!” I laugh and wrap my arms around him again, his “hoodie” a snug fabric to rest my head on.

“Y/N.” Conor says seriously so I look at him again, concerned. “Y/N I-I think I’m finally good!” Conor shouts in my ear and when I give him a questioning look he explains. “My music! I think it’s finally good enough!”

“Oh Conor,” I can’t help but grab his face between my hands and squish his cheeks. “It was always good enough!”

Conor laughs causing his face between my hands to morph oddly so I let go. “You’re not as much of a bitch as you used to be!”

“Watch your mouth!” I pull his hood over his head and continue tugging it over his face until he apologizes between laughter. When I let go, he takes off the hood and wraps his arm around my shoulder. We stay that way for the rest of the night as he introduces me to everyone we meet. They all assume I’m his girlfriend, joking with me that I should watch out. And I didn’t blame them with the way Conor’s hand was always on my shoulder or my waist, my hips, touching my hair, leaning in to say something in my ear. I crave his touch every time I don’t have it and by the end of the night, I feel drunk on desire more than any of the cocktails I’d had. So when Conor looks at me with a question in his eyes at the end of the night, I don’t call him out. I simply take his hand and go back home with him. Just sex. Only friends. Always friends.

Eighteen Months Later: Since Conor’s 24th, we’d made a routine. Unless one of us were in a relationship, every time Conor was in LA, he would stop by. We’d catch up on life and then end up in bed for however long he was here for.

“I’m only in LA for two week.” He would say. Or “I go to New York next week.” Or “I have a flight on Thursday for Dubai.”

It wasn’t permanent, he meant to remind me. It wasn’t a relationship. It was just sex. And we were just friends. And this was just a bad habit. Or a good habit-was there such a thing? I always looked forward to it. It felt like we were each other’s safe space, a secret the other held close to their chest. Minus the emotional attachments of course. It happened so often like this that I’d forgotten I ever wanted more. Being like this actually gave us more time to catch up on every detail of each other’s lives. We opened up about our insecurities, our goals, and all our shared memories. When Conor was staying longer he would work on things in the same room I was in or he would help me practice lines and we created small bubbles in time where everything was blissful between us as long as we were together. It was harder some days than others like when I wanted to kiss him in public or gush to my friends about him-but it was worth it to be close again.

Months Later: I had my first anxiety attack that morning. I didn’t even realise I was having it until my knees hit the carpet and I tried to look up at the time.

I had a big audition that afternoon for a children’s movie. My agent was so sure I was going to get it-she’d talked me up to every friend she had in high places and knew the company hiring so I knew I had it in the bag yet a movie on such a scale was terrifying. Conor had told me he was coming over after auditions to see how it went and I was oddly nervous to see him too-I’d gotten out of a short relationship so it had been a while since Conor and I got together. And then my mom called me worried about my brother who’d been making all the wrong choices in life as of of late which kept running through my mind. So when my agent called to tell me they wanted a Skype interview now,I knewthat usually meant it was a courtesy interview and they didn’t actually want me. I did the interview with a really bad connection, my anxiety heightening with every scene looking at their impassive expressions. As soon as it ended, I ignored my agen’t phone call and suddenly found it hard to breath, my vision narrowing as everything looked off, and the room tilted around me. I fell to my knees and located my phone, calling the only person I knew who’d understand: Conor.

By the time he arrived, I had managed to calm down but I still couldn’t take a deep breath nor could I talk in full sentences. Conor squeezed my hands and helped ground me until I could focus and then he’d gathered me in his arms so carefully, so lovingly, that it scared me enough to start crying. He mistook this for being sad about not getting the part and helped me to bed, setting up his laptop beside me. I didn’t correct him, falling asleep as I felt exhausted, and awakening to a vibrating hum.

I don’t open my eyes, anxiety clutching my chest as I remembered where I was and what had happened. But the humming beside me helped, the dread slowly unravelling it’s hold on me. When I do open my eyes Conor’s concentrated on the screen as he hums the same few lines again and again. And the tenderness with which I felt towards him sends me tipping into the panic zone so I get up and yank the covers off. I couldn’t do this. We said we wouldn’t.

“Hey you’re up,” Conor looks at me. “I’m gonna hum something does it sound like something you’ve already heard or is it-”

“You have to go.” I say abruptly and he stops talking immediately. “I need to be alone Conor please go. Now.”

He stays for a heartbeat before closing his screen and getting out of bed. His mouth opens to say something but he looks at me and closes it, bowing his head and moving out the door. I listen as he leaves and take a deep ragged breath. I felt wild, like a frantic ball of confused energy was buzzing within me like a pinball machine. Like a panic attack hangover and as soon as Conor goes I want him back. I make it so far to the front door when I retreat until my back hits the wall. What was I doing? But I craved the comfort of his touch and it urged me to call him back. I couldn’t though. He wasn’t my boyfriend, I couldn’t keep doing this. But the sudden sound of a knock at the door echos my pounding heartbeat.

I carefully open it to Conor, running his fingers through his hair. I barely register what he says; opening the door wider, just wanting him back in. He drops his bag to the floor as he closes the door behind him. In an instant, his hand finds my waist, our foreheads touch, our eyes locked. It felt like we were the center of a volcano of passion and desire, boiling as his hand tightens on my waist, bubbling as my hand slips around the the base of his neck, simmering and leaking as I close my eyes and he crashes his lips into mine.

I can’t remember what happens next-not chronologically. We’re bumping into walls and shedding the day, as well as our clothes, and as we ease into the sheets the volcano bursts with hot molten lava, destroying anything that was ever left of us before.

I must have nodded off again right after because I wake to Conor in bed facing me. Behind him, my window shows streaks of pinks in the sky as day goes down to dusk. Conor’s eyes are watching me carefully, his expression unreadable as he watches me watch him. I trace the bridge of his nose to distract him but he continues staring, something budding in the way he looks at me. It was scaring me and I tell him so.

Yet Conor doesn’t take his eyes off of me, his thumb brushing my cheek and my breath catches as I realise why I was so scared. His eyes hold no trace of its usual playful spark. Instead they’re unguarded and clear as day with what he was thinking. Shit. This was it. This was the end. We’d both fallen. Made this something important.

“When are you leaving LA?” I ask, almost begging him to reply with a deadline to our romance for some sort of normalcy. The only way this worked was when he put a time stamp for us to stop waking up in each other’s arms. Even if it was one month or one week we would have the most fun as the end date was our safety net.

But when he shrugs and continues to gaze at me, my heart feels like it would burst from my chest. And it practically does as all the hopes I ever ignored of Conor and I as something more than friends, all the fantasies I ever had of Conor wanting more with me, the thoughts I suppressed before they could even manifest-shoving them into a dark corner of my mind-roll forward and flash before me. This was Conor-the first person I think I ever fell in love with. And I can admit it to myself now, looking at him-at us, like this. This was Conor-how could I have ever thought we could be anything but in love in the end? So I remove Conor’s hand from my face and hold it to my chest, willingly showing him how much I was feeling in the moment. “I feel it now, can you feel it too?” Conor takes my other hand with his free hand and places it against his own palpitations. My own races faster; was this our demise?

“I feel it too.” Conor answers slowly.

“But this is exactly what we said we wouldn’t do.” I remind him. What he said we wouldn’t do. What we weren’t.

“What was that exactly?” Conor asks me and his mouth flicks up in a slow smile as the playfulness returns in the blink of an eye. He’s weightless as he rolls over me and brings his lips down in a kiss so tender, I never realised he had it in him. When he moves away, he rests his forehead against mine, his lips a hair’s breadth away from my own. The look he gives me is a challenge, a dare like we would give when we were younger. His brown eyes looking into mine are daring me just one simple thing:

Call me out.

pairing; callum ( aka calfreezy )x reader

warnings; um. there’s smut under the cutlmao

words; 1896

summary;while your boyfriend was away in austria with joe weller, you watched the qna that they did on weller’s channel during that time and right when the first question ( x) got answered, your boyfriend revealed something about himself and his preferences that you wouldn’t have expected in this video (or in your wildest dreams ).

(song recommendation;hard for - kevin gates )

you were wandering around the halo tower, watching tobi and harry record a fifa video in the living room, because apparently they had decided to do punishment packs. you laughed so hard when yoghurt was dumped all over harry and tobi collappsed on the floor immediately after from all the laughing while you tried your hardest to laugh in silence at harry’s rage, because they were still recording. after they got cleaned up, they went back to harry’s room to finish the video, you checked through your mails and noticed that you got a notification for a new video on joe weller’s channel, apparently featuring your boyfriend. you decided to watch it, wondering if there were any updates on how they were doing, but all you got was an intro full of austrian music, making you giggle as you plugged in your headphones to watch the video.    ❝ i actually can’t take you seriously with this hat… ❞    you heard cal laugh as weller wore the good old wig hat that you recognized from another video and weller was quick to fire back with a joke, which ended up as some sort of back-fire because then cal brought his sister up, throwing them both into a laughing fit. you smiled at the screen, glad to see that they were having fun, as the first question popped up on your screen.    ❝ what are your most deepest, kinkiest fantasies?❞    you heard weller read out loud and you raised a brow at first. surely they would make some sort of joke out of this question. what you didn’t expect was for them to actually answer them honestly.

cal already pulled an uncomfortable face as he leaned back in his chair, thinking for a second, but then began complaining.    ❝ you always do this to me… ——– you never do it with anyone else!❞    he said in a frustrated tone, but was still laughing and that’s when you realized that this was going to be serious. then it cut the scene and you heard the magic word;    ❝ stockings. ❞    you stared at the screen in shock, still waiting for them to laugh and bant about how that was just random shit, but it never came. especially as your boyfriend then continued on to explain why he chose stockings.    ❝ and like girls… ——— like, it’s like the stocking… maybe like a secretary vibe?but definitively like stockings, like… that’s really fucking hot, yeah… ❞    he stuttered to explain, quickly throwing himself back in his chair as he finished talking, embarrassment visible on his face and he was quick to throw the question at weller to change the subject, but you weren’t really listening anymore now. you didn’t really know what to do with this new information, so you sat there while watching the rest of the video in some sort of trance, staring holes into the air. soon tobi and harry were done filming and sat down with you in the kitchen both drinking a glass of water after all the exhaustion as tobi looked over your shoulder at your laptop to see what you were doing.    ❝ is that joe weller and cal?❞    he then asked as harry joined the two of you besides the laptop, curiously staring over your head as well.    ❝ yes, they filmed a new video in austria it seems… ❞    you replied in a mumble and they both exchanged a confused look as to why you’re not very enthusiastic about seeing your boyfriend (even if it was just in a video).    ❝ well, let’s watch it, i haven’t seen it yet. you tobi?❞    harry quickly inquired as he reached out for the mouse to replay it and you didn’t even bother to stop him and silently watched with them.

and not even a minute into the video, their mouths hung open as tobi paused the video and wildly gestured around as you hid your face in your palms.    ❝ well, if this isn’t interesting!what are you gonna do with that information now? ❞    harry asked with a smug face and you only groaned in response while tobi patted your back, but could also barely supress a chuckle.      ❝ i don’t know?! like… what would you expect if you were supposed to say something like that to the camera, knowing your girlfriend will see it?❞    you asked meekly, kinda at a loss as for what to do.    ❝ i’d expect her to get the hint. ❞    harry immediately answered with a completely straight face and you stared at him, mortified in your seat while tobi began laughing at harry’s boldness.    ❝ but hey, i guess harry’s right… i can’t think of another reason why he would confess it as serious as this, especially when he knows you’re gonna watch this. ❞    tobi answered with a shrug and was still trying hard not to burst out into giggles again and you were still a bit in shock as the realization began to settle in. he wanted you to take him up on his confession.    ❝ look at what you did, you muted ______, harry!❞    tobi quickly cut in and you snorted as you got out of the chair you had been sitting on and shut your laptop, brining it to cal’s room, before going back into the kitchen to make an announcement.    ❝ i’m going shopping now… don’t mention this conversation to cal and write me when he arrives, thanks a lot!thanks and love you guys!❞    you shouted as you were already on your way out of the door, shutting it behind you and making your way down the hallway with a determined expression as you sped your steps up.

two days later was the day. you had nice, white garterbelt stockings laid out on your bed next to a formal skirt and a text from harry, telling you that cal had arrived just now. your heart was pounding when you even looked at the outfit, laid out and just waiting to be put on and while you knew that cal played the ball in your field for a reason, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly nervous when you looked at the stockings. it wasn’t even something extraordinary, you knew that there were other people that liked even extremer things, but it was still quite overwhelming. so you breathed in and out deeply one more time and then picked them up with trembling hands, sitting down and pulling them up. getting them to stay in the right place while pulling up the second half was quite hard, but at some point everything looked proper and the way it was meant to look on the package as well, so you took a look at yourself in the mirror real quick.    ❝ doesn’t even look too bad… ❞    you mumbled to yourself, turning to appreciate the outfit from a few different sides before deciding it was about time to get going. so you put on a nice blouse as well and packed the skirt in your bag, since you couldn’t just show off the stockings to the whole world while heading to the halo tower. then you pulled pants over the stockings, just hoping that they’d stay in their place until you got there, before reaching for your phone and texted harry back.

harry  / [17:00]; just sayin that cal came back during the night so we didn’t notice when exactly he came home but he’s here now  

______ / [17:09]; oh alright thanks for telling me…. can i ask one more favor pls?   

harry / [17:11]; and what exactly?

______ / [17:13]; could u tell me when he’s out?or maybe even invite him out for the evening?pls pls pls harry i would be indebted to u forever but still!!!!pleaaaase?

harry / [17:16]; i won’t even ask why but yeah but he wanted to go out for nandos tonight anyway because he missed it so much so yep

______ / [17:17]; oh that’s perfect thanks so much!! enjoy the rest of ur evening   

harry / [17:18]; yep will do  have fun 

you decided to ignore that last comment and sat down on your bed again, looking at your now covered legs in the mirror and sighed, grabbing your bag and heading out to hang around the station until you got another text from harry. the stockings rubbed against your leg every now and then, a constant reminder of what was to come later on. that’s why you bought a new shirt out of nervosity as soon as you arrived there, but luckily your phone vibrating in your pocket kept you from buying any more impulse-induced things. as you opened the text up, it was indeed harry telling you that the whole flat just headed out for nandos and wished you good luck one more time. you nodded to yourself and then finally walked to their flat, knowing where they hid the spare key, so you were inside quickly and tuned the lights on on a low level. now you just needed to think about how you were going to do this strategically. in the end you settled for waiting for cal in his room when he came back and so you drank a glass of water before fully changing into your outfit, meaning you put on the skirt as well, a shorter pencil skirt and now all that was left to do was to wait for the flat owners to come home. you moved all of your stuff into cal’s room and then quietly thought about what to do when he opened the door. should you stand up or lay on the bed?sit on the bed?surprise him right at the door?in the end, you opted for sitting down on the edge of the bed, constantly wiping your sweaty palms on the sheets and checking if the stockings were still on the right way, until you heard the entrance open and loud shouts from the boys. with a pounding heart, you suddenly became highly self-aware and thought about what you should do with your body and how you were even sitting as you heard steps come down the hallway, making your head jerk up as the door opened.

out of sheer nervosity, you stood up quicker than ever before and before even realizing you were standing, you saw your boyfriend roll his suitcase into the room, not spotting you yet as he took his jacket off. you stood there with shaking knees and baited breath, until he closed the door and turned, freezing up the moment he saw you.    ❝ uhm… welcome h-home, i guess?❞    you said quietly, nervous smile on your face as you tried to straighten your back out and calm your hammering heartbeat as cal still stood there, speechless.    ❝ jesus fucking christ ______… you look absolutely bangin’. ❞    he said slowly as he approached you at medium pace, not rushing at all and it only made your nervosity rise even higher, but it disappeared as soon as you felt him thumb your hipbones through the material of the skirt pulling you close. his hands wandered a little and you could feel the hitch in his breath as he pulled the skirt up a little, instantly recognizing the silky material resting against your thighs.    ❝ i’m so glad i agreed to do that video with weller… i’m serious, this is so good. ❞    he told you quietly, dragging up the material of the skirt a little to reveal the gartnerbelt stockings in all their glory and it dragged a groan from him.      ❝ i’m glad you like it… ❞    you answered with a smile, suddenly feeling a lot less nervous, knowing that he was really into what you took so much time preparing carefully for him. he seemed almost hesistant to touch the stockings, so lost in the great picture they painted against your skin, so you decided to give him a little push, since you didn’t just wore those for him to stare at.    ❝ go ahead, you can touch all you want. i didput them on for you, after all. ❞

he glanced at you once more, but then rested his hand against the stockings, feeling them with his palm with baited breath while you held him close, hoping he couldn’t feel the trembling in your legs as he continued to explore up and down your thighs. you let him take his time, savouring every little touch of fingerpad against clad skin, until he slowly reached the top and they disappeared under the skirt and you keened while arching your back into him, making him chuckle.    ❝ fuck, you’re the best ______… i wasn’t too sure if you would actually follow through with what i said, but here you are, all dressed up for me… i love you. ❞    he concluded with another chuckle as he raised his head to look at you and you giggled in reply, pulling his head closer for a kiss.    ❝ i know. i love you too. ❞    you whispered while he kissed you and you instantly melted into him, but then he pulled away far too early in your opinion, only to pick you up and carefully sit you down on the edge of the bed again. you were about to lean back as cal kneeled down in front of you, a hand on your knee.    ❝ you did this all for me, so i would say that it’s only fair for me to pay you back. ❞    you were about to protest, saying that it wasn’t necessary, but the gentle nudge he gave to part your thighs got you interested in what he had in mind, so you complied and let him edge closer to settle himself right between your legs, raising his gaze to settle his light eyes on you and you could swear your breath paused for a second as he pressed a kiss to your right thigh, all while maintaining eye-contact with you.

he held tightly onto your right leg and hooked it over his shoulder, before breaking the eye-contact and paying full attention to loving up your inner thighs, letting his fingertips dance across it and scrape the edge of his teeth against the skin there, all to be rewarded with a whimper coming from you at the teasing sensations. after about a minute of just silently letting your revel in his antics, he unbuckled the tiny belts on the stockings, seperating them and sliding them off painfully slow, pressing a kiss to every inch that the stockings revealed while you whined impatiently, getting a chuckle out of him.    ❝ cal, don’t be such a tease… otherwise i’ll think twice before i ever do something like this for you again, please… ❞    you tried to hurry him, but he didn’t appear to feel very threatend, continuing on with his trail of kisses, until he reached your mid-calf, where he let them stay, only to shuffle closer again and pay the same attention to your other thigh, careful not to miss a sensitive spot as he unbuckle the tiny belt there once more. by the end of his fooling around, you were sure that he could feel the muscles in your legs shiver for him, letting him know how much you needed him right now. when he was done, you expected him to finally get up and kiss you to wrap it all up, but he remained where he was, seated between your spread legs and now pulling at the hem of the panties you were wearing, making you blink in surprise.

   ❝ cal, you don’t need to… ———- ❞    he cut you off quickly with a cheeky bite against your thigh, nuzzling the spot he just abused, pressing a kiss to it before looking up at you.    ❝ i want to. so let me. ❞    he said lowly, resting his cheek against your inner thigh and you couldn’t refuse him, so you let yourself be swayed, nodding with a sigh.    ❝ well, i guess i can’t change your mind now, huh?alright then. ❞    you answered and he grinned as your complied, tugging on your panties again, so you raised your legs and let him slide them off you, leaving you completely exposed, causing the embarrassment to set in again. you instinctively closed your legs a little, making cal chuckle.    ❝ it’s so cute how you still get embarrassed, no matter how many times we’ve done this already… ❞    he told you with a raised brow and you puffed your cheeks as heat flared them, but still opened them up a little again, hearing an approving hum from your boyfriend. he made himself comfortable between your legs again before setting his eye on the price, pressing a soft kiss to your core as you hid your face in your palms, moaning shakily.    ❝ you’re so wet… that’s how i like it. ❞    cal commented with an amused face as he saw your bashful expression, probing you with his pointer finger and you didn’t even respond, too busy trying to chase the heat from your face. but he just continued to gentle lap at your clit, as you looked at him, fully absorbed in pleasuring you and you arched a little towards him, slowly hooking your legs together behind his head, pulling him closer as he raised his gaze to look at you and you could feel him smirk against you, to which you responded by threading a hand through his hair, combing it a little.
a couple of minutes passed like this in comfortable silence with you tending to your boyfriend’s hair while he pleasured you in all the right ways that he had memerized over all the times you shared such an intimate night together. now he added a second finger to the mix and the gasp he got out of you was like music to his ears.    ❝ cal… ——— fuck, cal i’m close. ❞    you breathed out and he soothingly stroked your thigh with his palm, speeding up his fingers as well as his tongue and you keened once more, sending you over the edge only moments later. you were sure that you acidentally choked him for a second there when all your muscles spasmed for a few seconds, but he didn’t complain once as he let you ride out your high and then pulled back to press another kiss to your core, while you tried to catch your breath.    ❝ that… wasn’t even half-bad… ❞    you smiled breathlessly as cal finally stood up, groaning at his sore knee-caps that he now had to deal with from kneeling for so long.    ❝ ‘course it wasn’t, what did you expect?❞    he snickered as he laid down next to you on the bed, trying to grab the right end of the sheets to pull it over you, making you blink.    ❝ … and what about you?❞    he just shook his head with a sigh, pecking your cheek in the progress.    ❝ it’s alright, i can deal. and i’m way too tired from the long journey anyway, so yeah. besides, tonight was about you. so be grateful, yeah?❞    he told you as he cuddled you close, not leaving any room for protests.    ❝ if you say so… thanks then, i would say. ❞    you responded with a little uncertainty, but when he just nodded, you decided not to say anything more and silence settled in.    ❝ … i missed you, you know. ❞    you then said, making cal chuckle again as he kissed your forehead one more time.    ❝ of course you did. … i missed you too and it feels great to be back. ❞    you let out a sleepy giggle and nodded as well, before drifting back off into silence and let sleep overtake you while being wrapped into his embrace.

So everyone is making these quizzes, so,, what kpop boy should you beat up 

*Also, for those who may have difficulty telling: This is satire, and not at all serious. 

When Zagreus says “Juicy!” Or “Delicious” after getting a pom.

zukki based on that anne hathaway twelfth night pic we all know and love