5 Seconds of Summer Preferences

#28 The Hunger Games

because I'm in a mood.

Ashton: You felt frozen. Your blood ran cold throughout your entire body. The peacekeepers pushed and shoved you upon the stage. This isn’t what you wanted. You had family to take care of. Your future was bright, you were the smartest person in this Godforsaken district, and now, you were as good as dead. Sound didn’t register as anything more than a ringing, preparation for the canon. You didn’t hear the name being called until the gasp rung throughout the square. Harry Irwin burst into tears. He was eleven, eleven, how could someone so young be taken? This was his first entry. You were silently vowing to save him when it happened. The lighthearted tone of his older brother rang out, “I volunteer- I volunteer as tribute!” You knew it was selfish to think this, but damn, there went any chances of winning. He had it hook, line and sinker. He ran to Harry, hugging the crying boy with tears of his own. He slowly took the steps, slowly approaching you. Yes, he was definitely going to win, he had dimples, and everyone was a sucker for dimples. He outstretched his hand, pulling you to his chest. “Friends?” he whispered, brushing your ear.

“Friends.” You assured. Friends until the games started, then he was on his own.

Michael: The sight before was unnerving. All these people were staring at you, mesmerized by natural hair color, natural eyebrows, and a body that actually had thick curves. Cesar Flickerman smiled at your shyness, working his best to coach a decent interview out of you. You knew though, there was no amount of right answers that could save you. You were from district 12. You were as good as dead. “So, Y/N, what’s it like in twelve?” he leaned forward, patting your hand gently drawing your gaze back to his seemingly comforting one.

“Well, it’s smells.” You said, deadpanning. The odd thing, though, the crowd laughed.

“And your family, how are they doing?” Your family, your family that’s all that could register for you. “Well, it’s difficult for them. I’m an only child, and my family is rather small, and they all work in the mines.”

“This could be a great opportunity then couldn’t it?” You looked at him, then the crowd doe eyed.

 “It could, I hope it will be. We could use some help. I want to see them again, they’re all I have.” The crowd awed in sympathy, especially a boy in the front. He had bright red hair, his pale skin sprinkled with ink and metal. When you left the stage, running into Haymitch’s arms, you felt a tap on your shoulder. There was the red boy. He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips.

“I’m betting on you, killer.” He chuckled and waltzed away whistling.

Calum: Your fingers curled around the handle of the ax, your mind was zeroing in on the dummy’s target. You swung your arm back, thinking of home, ready to release when, “Hello seven!” Panic surged through you as you let the ax fall. The ax missed the head, and hit the arm: wounding, not lethal. You turned to see Calum Hood, a career, chuckling. “What the hell? You think this is funny? You son of a-“ He grabbed your approaching arms, locking them to your sides. “Look at you, getting all flustered.” “Flustered? Like I’d ever feel anything for jerk like you.” You grumbled, pushing yourself free to go grab the ax. “I’d watch your tone if I were you, I could help you win this.” You scoffed picking up the ax. “Like I’d want to work with you, anyway, my fellow tribute and I are perfectly fine on our own.” Calum leaned against a support pole in the training center. “Where is lumber jack anyway?” you shrugged, assuming your position again, wanting nothing more than for him to leave you be. As you lined up your aim, you pictured the target as Calum’s face and almost laughed. “Well,” he husked, up behind you, grazing your arms, “I think you should just give in.” “No.” you stated, trying to fight blush. “You’ll love me. I can already feel you falling.” His lips latched onto yours momentarily, pulling away more than quickly than you would care to admit. “Come find me in the arena when you’re ready.” He laughed, leaving you to rejoin his careers.

Luke: The two of you drew a deep breath, turning the berries over in your hands. He looked at you, and you looked at him. You were taking in his face, memorizing it one last time. His large hands reached out, cupping your face. His thumb grazed your tender skin, sighing in content. “Y/N.” he sighed.

 “L-Luke.” You whimpered staring back to him. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want to kill Luke either. He didn’t want to die, leave his family, but he didn’t want to kill you either. He couldn’t live with himself, so this was the only option.

“Together.” He murmured, capturing your lips one last time.

“Together.” You assured. “One.” You brought your hands closer to your lips. “Two.” You opened your mouth, ready to die. “Three.” You tossed the berries in.

Before either of you had the chance to swallow, the announcement was made, “Attention tributes, the previous agreement about two tributes from the same district winning has been reinstated. “ You quickly spit out the berries watching as Luke did the same.

“Did you swallow any?” you asked, euphoria running through your veins.

“No, did you?” You shook your head, hugging him as tightly to your chest as you could. “

We made it.” You cried onto his chest. He gently kissed the peak of your forehead.

“Yeah, baby, we did.”