Fanboy||Muke AU

0.5

Michael

I feel like I've been waiting for this day for so long. Late last night, I checked my reads on my Smut book to see they had gone passed the 970,000 mark, which means I've almost reached 1 million.

1 million reads. On my book. A dirty, sordid, filthy book written by Michael Gordon Clifford about the walking sex God that is Luke Robert Hemmings. Chewing on a hang nail, I refresh my Wattpad page again to see that a few more reads have added to the ever growing number. I think I'll scream with glee when it gets to 1 million. Even though my mum is downstairs and she will run upstairs thinking a maniac has broken in and is trying to kill her only child. I'm still going to scream. And then fob her off with a lame excuse of me seeing a spider, because I sure as hell aren't going to confess to writing very descriptive sex scenes about a band member that doesn't know of my existence.

Readjusting my headphones, I crank my music up a bit louder and I silently mouth the words to Hollywood Undead's 'Everywhere I Go' and bob my head along with the beat. I minimise the Wattpad page I have open, and I resort to Twitter to check my DM's and to see if Luke has tweeted anymore. He hasn't been online since yesterday, when he tweeted about being sent filthy things and its left the tweet playing on my mind. What has he been sent? Writing? Photos? Underwear? Toys....? unlikely, but still a possibility considering the 5sos fam are a bunch of perverts.

We all need holy water and Jesus.

Me, especially.

@bxnginghemmo: just completed @mukeafsmut dying for an update here....

I chuckle to myself, ruffling up my dyed fringe and quickly type out a response on my laptop.

@mukeafsmut: @bxnginghemmo nearly at 1 million and there will be some special surprises for you ;)

I immediately hit send, checking my DMs of badly suggested scenarios people think I would enjoy writing or they would like to see, and I close them down without so much as a response. I'm not writing brother smut, that's just plain fucked up and incest. Plus, Luke and I don't look remotely similar, so there is no way we would pass for being distant cousins, let alone brothers.

I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, the vibrations causing me to jump in my seat slightly, and I minimise another window before pulling it out and checking the message.

From/Birthgiver: I've been shouting you for 5 minutes!

From/Birthgiver: don't forget, we're going out for tea. Get ready x

Groaning loudly, I pull my headphones off and set them on my desk. I wanted to hopefully hit 1 million and order pizza. Instead, I'm being forced out of my hermit hole to go and interact with the outside world. Great.

To/Birthgiver: but, I don't wanna go outside. There's people....

I drop my head onto my desk, closing my eyes as I impatiently wait for a response from my mother. Why must I have to go out with my parents? I'm 19, damn it! I'd much rather be sat at home writing or reading fanfics...shit, I'm 19 and reading fanfics about a band. Damn, I do need to go out.

From/Birthgiver: you're going to die alone.

Fuck it, she's right. Huffing out in annoyance, I push myself away from my desk and roll across my bedroom on my chair, so that I don't have to walk all the way to the door. Laziness = Greatness.

I swing my bedroom door open and I lowly sing some of the lyrics of the song I had just been listening to, the words catchy and stuck in my head as I walk to the bathroom down the hall.

"Everywhere I go, bitches always know, that- Ow!!" I stop in my tracks and flinch when I see my mother with her hand lowering, the back of my head thumping from the feel of her hand hitting me, "What was that for?!"