5SOS Preferences+Imagines [CLOSED]

Jock

Calum: (soccer)

“I’m sorry, Y/N but boys are just better at soccer than girls.” Captain of your school’s boys’ soccer team Calum Hood says while tossing the ball between his fingers in front of you on the quad. You and some of the players on the girls’ team got there first, but Calum is saying that since the boys are better, they get to use it instead. “Really, bitch?” You raise an eyebrow, “‘Kay, fine. There are four of us, and four of you.” You gesture to the other players on the boys’ varsity, and your fellow varsity players Rachel, Pooja, and Kayleigh, “Play to five for the quad.” Calum nods, “Deal.” Some time later, it’s 4-4 and everyone’s gathered to watch two of the most impressive soccer teams in your state duke it out for playing space. Calum gets the ball from mid-fielder Pooja and starts to hurriedly dribble towards you, defense, and your feet are fighting for the ball but you steal it with your badass footwork, and pass it back to Pooja, who dribbles around Luke, and passes it to the offensive player Rachel, who boots it past Ashton, defense, and Michael, goalie, until it soars into the corner of the goal. The four of you cheer and Kayleigh leads you all into a massive group hug, laughing with glee. Calum saunters up to you, so you walk over as well, hand on your hip. “What was that about girls being better than boys?” You cup your hand around your ear, pretending like you can’t hear him. He laughs, “I know when I’ve been beat, congrats Captain.” He extends his hand, which you shake. “Thanks.” “So… I was just wondering, if you’d like to get some food later.” You smile, “Are you asking me out on a date?” “Oh absolutely,” He says, confident, “Your soccer skills are fucking hot, and so are you.” You look at your players for an okay, and then nod. “Sounds fun, Hood.”  

Michael: (hockey)

“Remind me why I thought this was a good idea.” You ask your best friend, who’s sitting next to you at a hockey rink watching the Avalanches vs Nailers game. “Because you wanted to support your boyfriend by coming to a game.” She says pointedly, then starts cheering when the Avalanches, your team, get the puck back. One of the players gets smashed into the glass, and you wince. “This is why I go to the practices instead. They’re less bloody.” You shudder when they leave a smear of blood as they skate off. After the game is finally over, you wait by the lockers for your boyfriend to come out with his team. One of the Nailers comes out before him. You’ve seen him around, but you don’t know his name. “Hey.” He says. “Hi.” You say, awkwardly. “Waiting for me?” He asks, stepping closer. You move back, but you hit the wall. Shit. He blocks you in by putting his hands on either side of you, caging you in.  “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Grier?” Michael’s voice resounds in the small hallway as he shoves the hockey player off you. Before you even know what’s happening, punches are flying and they’re on the ground. Your boyfriend told you once that these hockey fights are dangerous and to just wait until they’re over so you don’t get hurt. But you’re scared Mike’s gonna get injured badly, so you call for help and respective players from their teams pull them apart and they just walk away, Grier flipping the two of you off, which you ignore. Mike sniffs and wipes gently at his face, blood dripping from his nose and busted lip and you grimace. He smirks and waggles his eyebrows, “Admit it, Y/N. It makes me look sexy.”

Luke: (kickboxing)

“Okay, this is a jab.” You show Luke Hemmings, newbie at your kickboxing place, punching your left fist at the air next to him so he can pick it up. He’s a newbie white belt, and you’re one belt away from black and around his age, so your Head Instructor decided to make you teach him the basics for the next hour, which you didn’t mind because he’s hot as fuck. “No-no-no, you keep the knuckles horizontal.” You take your wrapped hands and fix his. “Okay next…” You’ve shown him how to cross, hook, backfist, knee, and roundhouse, and he’s gotten them fairly quickly, so you decide to show him more advanced stuff that’s good to know. “I’m going to show you how to Flying Squirrel.” “What the fuck is that?” You grin at him and bring out one of the Wavemaster bags and set it up in the middle of the empty except for Luke mat. You get a running start, tackle the bag to the ground and punch it 10 times. “That’s what the fuck that is. You try it.” You prop the bag up and stand off to the side. Luke gets a running start and jumps on the bag, but just tips it slightly before it stays in an upright position. You double over in laughter as he just is hanging onto the bag like a koala. “You’re like 8 feet tall, how did you not tip the bag over?” Since you two have already clicked over the past 45ish minutes, it’s totally okay to tease him. “I feel like this is more impressive.” He says, getting down. You chuckle. “Hey…” He trails off and gets a blush on his face. You wait for him to pick back up and he says with ruddyish cheeks, “If I get it, will you go see a movie with me?” You can’t help but smile, “Sure.” And, surely enough, he manages to full-on tackle the bag and give 10 perfect punches to it. “So.” Luke says as he stands back up, “What kind of movies do you like?”

Ashton:

(skiing) “Oh fuck!” You hear from behind you and, just as you turn around, you get knocked down the rest of the mountain, which to be fair is only like a couple feet before it levels off but still. Your eyes, which had closed from impact, open to a guy wearing bright orange ski goggles and a black helmet on top of you. “Oh god, I am so sorry I’ve never done this before and I forgot how to slow down, speed up, turn or stop and I’m just so fucking sorry, shit.” He says, getting off of you. You just cough and help each other up because he’s like a baby deer on ice, tripping everywhere. “It’s okay, just got the wind knocked out of me.” “Fuck, Ash, what did you do?” Three other guys ski to a stop in front of the two of you, taking off their helmets to inspect the damage. “I may or may not have skied into- sorry, what’s your name?” “Y/N.” You answer, brushing snow off your ass. He points to himself, “Ashton” then turns back to the others and explains, “Y/N.” “Sorry about him, he’s never skied before.” The tallest one says, fiddling with his poles. “It’s alright, just surprising.” “Let me make it up to you.” The guy offers. You can’t help but laugh, “How? By letting me or someone give you ski lessons?” One of the guys snorts but Ashton just shrugs in an impish way, “I was thinking something along the lines of hot chocolate in the lodge, but whatever works for you.” “That sounds fair.” You smile, “I want to do a run, but meet me in the lodge at 1?” Ashton nods, “Sounds great.” As you ski towards the lift, you can’t help but hear one of the guys shout, “YOU FUCKING RAN INTO HER AND YOU STILL GOT A DATE WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?”