#calum hood one fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

afatallovesong · 2 years

Note

Happy New Year you wonderful human! Pleeeease tell me you’re gracing us with more Calum goodness soon?! You’re my favourite writer. Loves

Ask and you shall receive... eventually! This has been a labour of love, I've been writing it on and off since November. Its one of my longest fics so far (I'm sorry) but I really think you'll like it! If there's any mistakes, mind ya business.

Happy birthday to the main man himself

At Your Convenience

A Calum Hood one shot

18+, Smut, NSFW

Word Count: 15,821

You’re fucking tired. It was actually starting to become painful just how tired you were. It hurt to keep your eyes open. It hurt to close them even for a second. They were so insanely dry from tiredness that they’d become sore. Each blink felt like repetitive razor sharp cuts. You’d have done just about anything for a cat nap instead of restocking the shelves. The sun glaring through the window as it started to set didn’t help. You were squinting and covering your line of sight as much as you could, but it still pierced through, targeting you especially, some evil vendetta against you. Its drying your corneas even faster, you really didn’t think it was possible. You manage a not-so-elegant yawn, barely covering the gaping black hole your mouth created. Only four more hours to go. Four more hours of this.

Its crisp and cold out. The early signs of winter were rolling into the city. The leaves were now lacking existence. Fallen branches scattering pavements, cracked under leather docs. Breaths were seen in the air as well as heard. Cheeks and noses were rosy with the bite of a harsh incoming wind. The sun was beginning to set just a little before 6pm. The darkness befalling the streets of California. Calum had often liked a walk at sunset. There was something oddly calming about it. Watching the world carry on as the day was meeting its end. It’s not that he’d even see much of the sun’s disappearance with all the buildings and lights and the busy billboards, but he’d known it was there. He’d known it was leaving him.

He liked walking home in the dark too. The city was so vastly different like that. The stores, the staff that changed over, the people you found wandering through. People were teaming and seemingly bustling with character, not all good, in some circumstances maybe even foul but certainly more outgoing than the daylight crowd. Some were tired and rushed off home from work. Often moving so fast he’d nearly been trampled down into the pavement twice. For the most part, the characters could only be described as friendly, interesting, and easy to watch going by. None could have captivated him quite as much as you though. He’d soon find that out. His friends and family would never describe him as particularly observant, this ought to prove them wrong.

He’d been across the street, a little over 10 feet away maybe when his eyes set upon your figure. It seemed as if the building encasing you hadn’t been there at all. Like you were just stood there on the street corner exposed to winter air as much as he was. The concrete cage above and around you, merely an afterthought. He’d spotted you with an impressively keen eye. He could pin point any detail about you from the style of your hair to the colour of each stripe on your shirt. He may even go as far as to say he’d memorised the order they appeared in. Light blue, dark blue, off white, and black, and repeat and repeat. You weren’t doing anything spectacular to catch his attention in the way that you did. He just knew that you had and now he was stuck watching you on a loop. Stood restocking shelves by the window, a couple of bags in each hand. Despite the averageness of it all, he’d felt the world stand still, calling him inside, calling him to you. The girl in the window.

He went completely unnoticed by you at first. He was thankful for that. You’d had a delivery that morning and spent most of the day painstakingly unboxing and replacing items running low around the store. You were at the last one, placing individual packets of chips on the shelf and the rack beside it. You decided to organise them into rainbow order, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. You had a little song about it, so you knew. You’d been foolish to assume you’d had the whole colour palette. You try to invent a flavour for indigo and violet to rectify that. You could send a strongly worded sales pitch to Lays. For now, though, you were stood atop a step ladder to reach the highest shelf. You weren’t exactly short, but the additional height did come in handy when you couldn’t find the energy to stretch higher than what was natural. Its only as the sun tucks itself away, do you finally brave peering out of the window again for some form of escape.

He catches your eye as you hover there, throwing the cardboard box, now empty, down on the ground behind you. In the space it took you to finish the task and turn back around, he’d crossed the street now looking at you from the corner. He hoped he didn’t look weird. He definitely looked weird. You don’t think much of the exchange at first. But as the seconds escalate you find yourself partaking in a little staring contest. You’d felt that burning sensation in your eyes again after a short while. Just as you go to blink it away, he’d gone. You half wondered if you’d hallucinated his appearance in the first place. Stranger things had happened after a long day after all. Whether real or not, you’d lost the contest. You knew that much. You took your loss and patted down your thighs in defeat.

The door opened with a collection of high pitched tones from your butterfly wind chime above it. It’s just as alarming as it was when you’d first started working there. You thought you would have acclimatised by now but a mixture of tiredness and a slow moving day in store had you beat. So instead, you found yourself jumping out of your skin. You were lucky you didn’t fall. It might have been a more exciting day if you had. You may return to the idea if the day dragged out any longer.

You managed to get back on the ground safely. Your ladders were folded and slotted back against the window where you’d retrieved them from. Your cardboard box now back in your hands to flatten for the recycling bin out back. For now, you’d rest it near the ladders, but you may as well complete half the job while you’re at it to save you doing more than necessary later on. Judging by your exhaustion now, it would be the last thing on your agenda at 10pm. Plus you were never one to leave a customer unsupervised in store. You may have been tired, but you weren’t stupid.

He stepped inside, warmth flooding around him, engulfing him in a large hug. It was a California summer amongst the shelves and aisles. At least that’s how pleasant it had felt. Now that he thought about it, that was a horrible way to describe somewhere that sold fresh food. It’d be a nightmare for food hygiene and longevity. He might have been a touch hasty in his earlier description. It was undeniably cosy though, that was a better fit for it. It was a pleasure to be shielded from the cold.

His eyes easily floated back to you now that he’d entered your space. That was probably just as creepy as it sounded. He didn’t have any sort of plan in mind for entering the store, he never usually did. He’d just made it inside and assumed that that would be enough but of course it wasn’t. It would never have satiated his need to meet you. But he couldn’t just stand in the doorway with his hands in his pockets watching you like some sort of weirdo. Which admittedly, was exactly what he was currently doing. Until he snapped out of it and shuffled himself down the next aisle. He had to approach you somehow though. He’d made it this far; he should follow through.

He could see you through the shelving. There were gaps between produce and items without height, quite similarly to bookshelves in a library. The more he looked the more he could make that comparison. Were these second hand shelves? The shop wasn’t as tiny as it looked from outside either. There were at least 5 short aisles which considering the location, was impressive. The old convenience store seemed no larger than a matchbox from out there. Now he’d stepped inside he’d argue it was more of a healthy apartment, or maybe a doctors waiting room. Yes, those really were the best locations he could think of.

He couldn’t help but notice how the light still caught you as he peered through the confectionary to the place where you stood. The light was illuminating your striped shirt and little blue waistcoat resting in coordination on top. It also bounced off the shiny, scribbled out name badge hooked into the left pocket. He wondered why you hadn’t gotten your name printed. Perhaps you were new here. He’d never seen you in here before. He’d like to think he’d remember you if he had. Not that he was the biggest or most loyal customer to ‘Convenience Corner,’ but he had made it inside once or twice before. It was mostly while drunk, just picking up extra supplies for a party or so but it was enough for him to know. No, he’s certain he’d not seen you before. He ought to find out your name before he forgets to.

“Can I help you?” He jumped at the sound of your voice. It was melodical and cheerful, sweeter than he’d expected. He’d not been prepared to feel even more intrigued by you so soon and in a situation like this no less. You’d caught him staring hadn’t you? He could never show his face in here again if you had. He’d have to leave immediately; God forbid pretend to buy something to make the interaction less awkward. That’s if that was even possible at this point. He wasn’t that sure that it was. His fight or flight had to kick in sooner or later. He looked up from the pack of pistachios his hands seemed to instinctively land on. “Sure, the freezer’s in the back.” He lifts his head to follow your voice with an eyebrow arched. He hadn’t asked for anything in the freezer section. You weren’t speaking to him at all. He’s not sure which was more embarrassing, the fact he was self-centred enough to believe he’d been caught or the fact he was now too aware that he hadn’t been.

“Guess I’m buying the damn pistachios,” he muttered under his breath before grabbing one packet off the shelf, heading in the direction of check out. He was about to make it there too, before he changed his mind, turning back to grab another just to be safe. Surely it was weirder to buy one packet. Or was that just him? He made his way to the counter for good this time. It was adjacent to the entrance as one might expect, easy escape route if things went south. He hovered in place, occasionally stretching onto the tip of his toes and then back down again as he waited patiently for you or another employee to aid him. Though he hoped, deep down in his soul that it would be you.

During his wait he noticed the green chair behind the register. The chair clad in worn leather, looking about as old as the building itself, tucked away neatly. The next items he spotted were the locked cabinets with indication to liquor and tobacco from the warning labels and age restrictions printed on the doors. The little bronze bell atop the counter was next. Then it was the vintage green radio buzzing to the left of it, sputtering out some classical tune he’d never for the life of him be able to recognise. Then it was the cup of what he assumed was coffee, in a branded cardboard cup he also didn’t recognise.

The more he looked the more he found. The walls were patterned with blue and white vertical stripes. The floor shared the same colour scheme with checker tiles. Suddenly the blue uniform was making sense. The décor reminded him of the 80’s, bright, in your face and yet comforting and familiar. His favourite piece of décor in the whole store had to be the painted sign that read ‘please don’t fucking steal.’ He wondered if it worked much as a deterrent or if he was gullible. His second favourite was the collage of confiscated fake id’s with various graffiti vandalising the faces. He laughed at those harder than he thought he would. The Marlboro’s in rainbow order weren’t far behind.

It was cluttered and unorganised, certainly had an eclectic vibe, but he felt strangely at home in his surroundings. He’d liked that. He’d also liked that the price labels on everything were the same shade of green as the chair and radio, some kind of extreme case of colour coordination. Perhaps there was an ongoing discussion about replacing the walls and flooring. It seemed like the favoured shade in the establishment in its current state, was green. It would look pretty green. He really was dull today.

“Hey, sorry I took so long.” You had appeared behind the counter slightly out of breath, hair swept over one shoulder, slipping down your back in an untidy fashion. You were rubbing the back pockets of your blue jeans, looking from left to right and all around for something, he couldn’t quite fathom what. You’d moved so fast he barely registered your arrival there at all. Let alone be able to guess what you were doing there now. You’d startled him in the best way, rushing in to save him just as he feared he was losing grip on reality.

You’d smelt so sweet, next to the dust heavy, 80’s vibe of the shop floor. You had this fresh aroma of apples mixed with mint or something similar, and he liked it. He really liked it. He could have bottled that up. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you scrambled around. He watched you in awe like he’d never seen a retail worker before in his life. You’d seemed so colourful and lively against the drab old signs pinned behind you and it was absolutely mesmerising to him. What was a girl as bright as you doing in a place as drab as this?

Another customer entered with a gust of wind following shortly after. Trickling that breeze across the back of both your necks. Both your eyes floated over to the doorway and back simultaneously. A shiver had shot up his spine when your eyes had met his for the first time, well second actually. He quite enjoyed the feeling of your gaze on him. “Just those?” You asked sweetly. It took most of the energy you had left to lay it on thick for him.

You never enjoyed taking your tiredness out on customers. Not just because it was unprofessional but because you quite liked other humans. You liked them a lot. They were the sole reason you were employed, sure but you also just liked the experience of your fleeting moments with the rest of the human race. You didn’t need to know their life stories. You didn’t need to chit chat and ask about their day because it was simply polite to do so. Any conversation carried between you and the passers-by, the window shoppers, and the regulars, was a part of your day that you enjoyed and often craved. Somewhere, not so deep down, very clearly found instead, you hoped this new customer would allow you more than just a fleeting moment.

You eyed him with large, soft eyes. A genuine glimmer of happiness was lit within them. Despite the bags beneath them which made his heart ache for you, he thought you had the prettiest eyes he’d seen. So much so that it took him a while to return to you, remembering exactly where he was. Buying something. He watched you peering down to the items he’d handed over, fascinated by literally anything that you did as if it were his first day on earth. And for the love of God, how could someone so tired be so devastatingly beautiful?

“Uh, yeah, that’s it.” He really took over a minute to pause and then came out with that. Pathetic. He’d kick himself for his lack of conversational skills later. For now, he just glanced down to your name tag with curiosity but not enough guts to back it up. You caught him, addressing it immediately. It seemed you were paying just as much attention to him as he was to you. Funny he hadn’t noticed it, since he clearly saw everything else that you did.

“Printing error, would you believe it?” He shook his head, he’s not sure why. “You’d think I wouldn’t need one at all, owning the place.” He was quite impressed by that; he hadn’t shown it as well as he’d have liked to, but he was. He wouldn’t have guessed it. You started shuffling around, just like before. Your eyes dart beneath the counter, then above, to the side, even to the ground. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen some keys on a lanyard?” You eye him hopefully, anxiously gnawing on your bottom lip. Stay strong Calum. You rushed a hand through your hair as your panic set in. He had a feeling this wasn’t the first time you’d lost them.

Ever the hero, he glanced around to where you were stood before. He remembered your position exactly. He might have been a serial killer. He’d have to book himself a therapy session later that evening. These were early signs for sure. There kicked beneath the bottom shelf, a slither of silver caught his eye. Before you could clear the counter yourself, he’d already grabbed them, wrapping the sunflower printed material around his hand.

The smile you greeted him with was similar to that of a damsel who’d been delivered from distress. He knew he wasn’t worthy of such praise, but he so enjoyed the sight of it as it was presented to him. “Thank you.” You gestured a prayer as you said it, bringing the keys to your chest, your breasts squishing together significantly. He wished he hadn’t noticed that. “I swear that’s the 6th time I’ve done that.” You sink the key into the cash register, springing it to life, opening the drawer beneath it.

“Just today?” He dug at you, earning a blush, he felt blessed to have seen it let alone to be the one to cause it. “Well, that’s 2.75 then.” You said happily, hands flattening atop the wooden countertop as if you were smoothing out a piece of fabric. He hands money over the with a “keep the change” and a smile that flashed his perfect pearly whites. You placed the 5 he gave you in the cash register, eyeing him sceptically as did so. “See you around big spender.” His breath escaped him at the nickname, the possibility of seeing you again too. That was the most fun either of you had, had all day.

“I should give you a job since you’re in here so often.” He doesn’t fight the smile that braces his face when he enters the place this time. “Then you’d have to finally tell me your name.” He knows he’s got you there. “On second thoughts, you’re my best customer and you’re so, so welcome here any time honestly.” You slam your magazine down on the counter for emphasis, resting your face in both your palms, elbows on the wood. “Oh yeah? Don’t get a lot of pistachio fiends?” He wanted to be embarrassed; he had no legs to stand on. He’d been coming in every Thursday for the past 5 weeks, buying a pack of pistachios each and every time. His car was just about overflowing with them at this point. The shells, bags, full pistachios he couldn’t quite toss and catch in his mouth in less than a minute. It was an addiction to most, you included.

“What brings you in today?” You held your hand out to stop him answering you, only he never began to speak in the first place. He was proud to say he was used to you doing that. “Let me guess.” He flipped you off before responding light heartedly. “Maybe I’m just checking in to see how your name tag is coming along.” You thought for a moment before responding. “You know, it’s taking a whole lot longer than I thought, guess labels aren’t on trend right now.” The sarcasm was dripping. He nodded as he headed down the aisle, fighting heart palpitations as he went. He didn’t have to get the same thing. There was no reason to now. He wasn’t in a hurry. He wasn’t panicking only grabbing the first thing he found. Yet, he still grabbed a bag like clockwork as if it would ever be impressive to you.

“I never thought anyone liked pistachios.” He jumped about 3 feet as you appeared beside him. This was the closest you’d ever gotten to him. “Jesus fucking Christ.” You sniggered a laugh at his expense, thoroughly. “No, that’s not my name but it’s a good guess.” You patted him lightly on the shoulder. He felt like he’d been shocked by electricity. “As I was saying, scaredy cat, I thought it was just something adults lied about enjoying to seem more mature or something.” Every bone in his body had him wanting to agree with you. They tasted like dog shit, but he couldn’t resist them.

“Rude of you to give me another nickname without so much as a whiff to your own name.” He raises you. You didn’t think he had it in him. “Would it please you if I let you provide me with a nickname?” Its patronising as fuck but he’d already been glad to accept your offer regardless. “You sure you’re ready for that?” You shrugged it off, there was no way he’d think of one on the spot. He was so painfully awkward and flustered around you at all times, the tiny burst of wit he pushed out a few seconds ago was probably all he had left this week. You could let him do his worst with full confidence. Knowing he’d never conjure one good enough to knock you down.

“Stripe.” Your eyes widened to the point where he feared they might pop out of your skull. “Fucking Stripe?” You half yelled, repeating the word far too many times in disbelief. He was fully aware of how awful it was, really, he fucking knew. But your reaction made it all the more worth it. “I’ve never seen you in anything other than a stripey top and that blue fucking waistcoat, it was the best I could do.” If that was the best, you’d hate to see his worst. “I’m not mad, just disappointed.” You then rubbed his back so platonically he thought he might scream.

“But uh, they’re great yeah, yummy.” He shook his head at his own awkwardness. “Yeah, must be, you’re the only reason we replaced the stock you know.” You pointed at the tiny marking slammed on the shelf just below the item up for debate. An “out of stock” label was scrawled out messily in black marker. “Shit really?” There was that laugh again. He could record that and sell it as a cure for depression, it was the happiest sound he’d ever heard. You could cure all ailments with a laugh as cute and dorky as yours.

“Nope, but it did make you panic for a second huh?” You were facing him, arms behind your back, chest pushed out proudly as you smiled at your own mischievousness. You tended to do that a lot. You weren’t ever aware of the way your breasts pushed forwards like an offer he couldn’t refuse. But he had so hoped that he was right in assuming it was accidental. Although, if that was just how sexy you were even without trying, he could only melt at the thought of a real attempt. Pull yourself together man, you’re not 14, not every pair of tits has to destroy you. Even if yours were perfect. “Do I really come in here that much?” He's white knuckling his way through that question until you finally relax your shoulders, the tension also leaving his own.

“Yeah you do.” You said it with sympathy and a kindness as if that was the making of an intervention. “I could lie.” You offered. He thought about it. Then he thought about the way he could recognise every single note your wind charm had been able to make. The way he knew the floor creaked in the centre of every aisle but never the edges. How the lights only flickered above the freezer section and buzzed like a swarm of bees when they did. How there’s always an excess of toilet roll stacked the near the door because you’d accidentally ordered too much. How you’d tripped over it most days despite you being the only reason it was there. How you’d told him you’d done it only once, but he knew for a fact it was 5 times just in his presence because he laughed every single time. Yeah, he might come here a little too often.

“Would you please lie?” His face heated in several different shades of red, one after the other coordinating with your striped shirt of the day. A blush brown, red, and orange. You were yet to repeat an outfit. The horizontal stripe was the same, but the colour was not. That wasn’t really saying much in the grand scheme of things. He had only met you 5 times so far. But 5 different stripey tops was still arguably hard to come by. “You just really love your nuts.” You dragged out your s.’ He hit his head on the shelf before him with a thud. “That’s even worse.” He mumbles while continuing his downward trajectory into self-loathing.

“Yeah, maybe you should go with your dignity still intact.” You nodded, brushing off laughter. “You’re right. Though I think that would require having any in the first place.” He made a lot of jokes at his own expense, more so than anyone else you’d ever met. You hoped he didn’t really feel like that about himself. “Yeah, no I was lying to make you feel better.” You nodded repeatedly. “Didn’t really try it before, now I did. I don’t really like it.” You shrugged. He smirked.

“So, same time tomorrow?” He did the same old thing with his feet, standing on his toes, slotting back down, his tell-tale sign that he was waiting for something. “Maybe.” He left it open for interpretation. You leaned in close, your face not far from his, like the counter had disappeared altogether. “Oh, a maybe huh, that’s how we’re playing this now?” You’re so close to him he can now identify the exact kind of mint you carried on your breath. It wasn’t peppermint like he’d assumed at first. It was spearmint. You were spearmint and spiced apple rolled into one. It should never have worked but on you, it was perfection.

“Can’t bear to see me twice in one week Cal?” He thought he might combust as you shortened his name. It took every ounce of energy he had left not to melt at your feet. “I am getting too predictable, do need to keep it fresh. Can’t have you sitting there all day just expecting me to arrive.” He was proud of himself for keeping up. There may be hope for him yet. “Oh, but it’s such a crucial part of my existence.” Your hand slid across countertop, and he thought he imagined it even as his own lifted involuntarily, aiming to meet it.

“Very funny. So witty.” He was reduced to two word sentences and sarcasm, brilliant. “I know, I know, keep going, talk dirty to me.” You were definitely a dork; you both knew it. One of you found it endearing. Your hand touched his, he was almost certain it wasn’t an accident by now. His heart still didn’t believe him. “I will see you, eventually.” Your fingers pried his open, hands joining, fingers bumping knuckles, fumbling around in a beautiful whirl. He didn’t know when your relationship got to the point where you’d been able to touch like this. He also didn’t know what it meant. He just knew he enjoyed it, and you could touch him wherever you desired.

“Eventually?” You say it slowly, breathing it out to see if he’d like it. His eyes couldn’t avoid your glittery lip gloss any longer. It was all he’d thought about for the last 45 seconds since he’d noticed it. He wished he never noticed it. Now he can’t do anything but notice it. He also thought about the possibility of wearing it himself. Not because he wanted to go out and buy the same one but because he so desperate to feel your kiss, he wouldn’t mind the transfer. Those thoughts weren’t helping anyone.

“Mmhmm, sometime, somewhere.” Did his voice go up an octave? “Probably here.” You corrected him, thumb smoothing over his. “Definitely here.” He confirmed, he’d not taken a new breath since you’d touched him, and he might have started going purple because of it. “But sometime.” You poked with a smirk. “Exactly.” He said inching closer. As much as you liked it, you panicked. You released his hand in a flash and stepped back, legs knocking into the chair behind the counter. He’s gutted to lose your touch but chooses not to hold it against you. You must have had your reasons.

You pretended it didn’t make you want to yell out every curse word under the sun under the scrutiny of his stare. The way your chair dug into your calves was dire. You cut your flirtation short and hoped that masked it adequately enough. It didn’t. “Get out of my store.” You bossed him around with a smirk. He felt relieved by it. At least he hadn’t fucked anything up. You smiled away at him as he did as he was told. Holding it right until he’d disappeared, not only from the shop, but the view of the exterior too. You sank into your chair safely this time and let out a deep sigh. Was it hot in here or was it just you?

“I get off at 10.” You rush, bringing your hands back down to your sides. You didn’t smile, you didn’t wave, you didn’t breathe. You just blurted it out. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards but didn’t react more than that. “You do?” He isn’t really sure what to say, he never is. He wants to ask if you mean what he thinks you mean, and what he thinks you mean is that you’d like to see him when you finish. He’s not sure if he has the courage to do something about it. He still needed to work on communication, if you had taught him anything, it’s that his verbal skills were lacking.

“I get off at 10 and I think you should come hang out.” Your spare hand floated to your hip; you hoped it appeared as casual as you intended it to. But truth be told your grasp on it was nothing close to gentle. The silence growing between you was painful. “I’ll see you then.” He said, just as quietly, just as unsure.

“Fuck, you will?” You stepped in closer to him, absolutely relieved. He reached out to you; you’re attempting the same. “I uh, yeah.” This is the only time you’ve been tongue tied around him and you’re not enjoying a single second of it. “Now please leave before I have a meltdown over this.” He didn’t budge. He still wanted to touch you, hold your hand, your hip, your scissors that you were previously using to cut open packaging, anything he could. “Seriously oh my God.” You’re laughing but you need it, you wouldn’t think straight again until he left. “I’m gone, I’m going, I’ll see you at 10.” Fuck yeah you will.

“What can I help you with today?” You asked as softly as you always did. You leant right over the counter already cutting the distance. It was 10:02pm. There was no more wasting time. He started to lean in a little too. You wet your lip in anticipation. The way you often did when you saw him. Because you couldn’t keep it together for even a minute, needed that sensation across your lip to prevent you from finding another. Under the watchful gaze of those fucking browneyes, you’re helpless. “I actually panicked when you didn’t come in at 6 today.” Distracting yourself with conversation was something you’d always done; may it help you now.

“I didn’t think you’d miss me too much.” He was happy you did. He was selfishly ecstatic if he was being completely honest. “Well, I did.” He nodded at the information, letting it sink in. He also let it go straight to his head. It wasn’t his fault. When a girl like you says she misses you, you’re living the fucking dream as far as he was concerned. He leaned in, elbows nudging yours on the counter, a parallel to a couple of weeks back when you’d held hands in the very same spot for the first time.

It felt much more natural this time. Hands gravitating towards each other without a care in the world. Nothing but the brushing of fingertips against knuckles and blushes being hidden with large smiles. You supposed without the worry of any other customers entering the store, you could finally relax into this. You weren’t being unprofessional by seeing to your urges. It felt so incredibly good. You’d like it like this more often. Probably not in this exact location. You think you’d seen enough of the inside of this place for a lifetime.

“I can tell you what I’m not here for.” You nodded along intrigued. “Fucking pistachios.” You snorted a pretty hearty laugh. “I knew you didn’t like them.” You raised your voice accusingly. He was shaking his head in disagreement but the way he laughed wasn’t fooling you. “No one likes them that much I don’t care who you are.” You’re determined to receive his admittance. He’s gone beet red in the face, willing to pull his beanie down over it to save him further humiliation. That should have been enough for you, it wasn’t. You had to hear it.

He’s shaking your hands in his to grab your attention back and your heart is just bursting at the action. You wouldn’t mind holding his hands all day. “No, I do like them, I do, stop shaking your head, I do. Just yeah, not that much, I don’t know what I was doing.” He’s looking at your hands as a source of comfort, fiddling with them while he reflected on his past decisions regretfully. “Think I just really wanted to impress you, clearly did that. Shows I’m committed though right?” He lets one of your hands slip free. You lift it into the air and draw an invisible tick. “Oh yeah, honestly there’s nothing sexier than getting 2.75 from a hot stranger every week, ticking that right off my bucket list. And yes I like your level of commitment, I will consider it heavily in your application.”

His brows arch. “Hot stranger huh?” You’re not surprised he’d only listened to the part with the compliment; you’d be the same. “You’re kind of hot I guess.” It was your turn to blush, coyly looking anywhere but at him as if you’d save yourself that way. It didn’t stop him looking at you like you thought it might. He was still peering down at you, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks, your hair falling down into your face like curtains ready to close on him. He didn’t want to be closed out. He needed more access in fact. He just needed to be subtle about it as not to spook you, or him for that matter.

He was careful when he pulled his left hand from yours. It was so cautious and polite you didn’t even miss it when it was gone. He just reached forward, touching you elsewhere. Tucking his thumb beneath your chin, lifting your face so you’re back looking at him. He could look at you for hours. You’re like a piece of art that had come alive, and he needed to appreciate you for that. He was equally as pretty, his eyes big and beautiful, with a softness you wanted surrounding in. You wouldn’t ever get used to a stare like his.

You combed some of your hair behind your ears to give him a better look at you. You’re not sure why but you felt it was important for him to see you like this. With more vulnerability. He may have seen you every week, but your time was so fleeting. You’d been working a million miles a minute. Your head was often fuzzy. Not to mention your hair was a constant tangled mess. You rarely wore makeup either, sweat too much stocking shelves which you did pretty much every single Thursday, his day. It was absolutely crucial to you now, for him to see you and really seeyou.

Not you that wore the uniform. Not you that lived and breathed this shop or this job. Not you that made witty remarks about other customers because that was your only form of entertainment during a shift. You needed him to see you in a way that he couldn’t associate you with this place. You wanted him to like you separately. You had other interests. You had other clothes. You had a whole other personality. If you let him look at you like this, perhaps he just might find it.

“I might be wrong.” His voice had gone unintentionally gravely allowing his accent to shine through. “But I think you might like to kiss me.” He says it barely above a whisper, but you heard it in the deepest parts of you. You tried your best to remain composed as he’d read your mind exactly. All these weeks of flirting with no result, building and building tension with no real end game in sight. But now, finally, there was opportunity. “It’ll cost ya.” You whispered. He grinned back down at you affectionately; he hadn’t moved an inch yet. “I’ll tip you generously” he goes to say more but you’d already shot forward. Everything he could possibly have said was now well and truly out of the window, gone and completely forgotten. You had erased his mind and it felt wonderful.

“You’ve been on my mind for fucking weeks you know that.” He’s taken aback, from the kiss, your hand clutching his, your confession. He was flattered to say the least. “I watch the damn clock every day, even though I know you only come in on Thursdays.” You retreated your hands away from him and he’d have been offended by it if he weren’t still pining for your lips back on his. He could settle for hearing your truth first. He was a patient man when it came to you. “Why do you only come in on Thursdays?” He wonders if you were actually asking or not and then he realises it’s just a stepping stone in your monologue, so he kept it zipped and watched you with a bemused smile.

“I was scared, did I tell you I was scared? Thought I’d never see you again Calum, I mean fuck I was about to mark down pistachios to 1 cent if it would bring you back in here, what the fuck were you playing at?” He’d say he was shocked at the way you’d overreacted, but he’d been wracking his brain just as heavily. The entire day, he watched the time flying by, his leg tapping, his riffs never sounding right, his vocals never hitting the right note, his lyrics not carrying into verses with fluidity and synchronicity, every second he spent away from this God damn store was an additional second of insanity he couldn’t bear.

“Promise I’ll never ditch you again.” You tugged him in close. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep Calum.” You breathed out grabbing hold of the collar on his fleece. “I would never do such a thing.” He tipped his head down at you, thumbs reaching out to stroke adoringly over your cheeks, your aggression dissolved as quickly as it came. “Shit, kissing you is like, I can’t even think of a word for it.”

“That’s awfully romantic, wow Calum.” You said between kisses. “Shut up.” He bit back. “Trying to but you keep pulling your lips away.” You’re mumbling into his mouth. “Feels weird kissing here, like some other customer is gonna pop outta nowhere.” You rolled your eyes at the mention of it, biggest turn off of the century. “Would you like me to put the shutters down so you can feel safer hmm?” He smirked down at you. “That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Swoon.

His hands squeezed where he now held your hips fondly. His eyes were shining, even in the dim light. His brows were furrowed with concern, you couldn’t be sure what for. There were so many things either of you could have been thinking at that moment. You were checking his deep eyes for signs of distress or regret, a hint of regret would certainly destroy you now you’d gotten to this stage, but you’d still wished to know if he was okay with all of this. “Are you okay?” You weren’t sure why you said it so quietly. If anyone were to break from a loud and startling voice, it would have been you more so than him.

He nodded his head into the palm of your hand. You’re heart fluttered but you still wondered. “Promise me?” He nodded again but it wasn’t enough truth for you. “Need to hear it.” You nudged. “I’m more than fine.” It sounded calmer than either of you had expected. You were eyeing him with your lips tucked neatly between your teeth and he swore he’d lay down his life to feel you do that to him instead. “Gonna kiss you now.” You said it as if it was the first ever time. It was at least the third, maybe fourth or fifth but felt just as fresh. Somehow more important than the others. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t messy. It was planned and it was delicate, and it had mattered.

He leaned into your mouth; plush lips gently caressed yours. You knew he was more eager than he let on, felt it in the way he clutched at your belt loops like he himself was the one to hold up your jeans instead. “You don’t have to be so gentle.” You muttered through fluttered lashes. “Wanna treat you like you deserve.” You didn’t expect such a response, never being taken care of before. You were glad to receive it. “Kiss me sweetly later, I want the good stuff.” His lips didn’t miss the opportunity to send a smirk your way before he swooped in, arms wrapping around your middle, lips plummeting down onto yours. A moan teared from your throat sending his stomach churning and flipping with delight.

It’s a tender kiss still, even if he weighed down heavy on your lips. His cushiony mouth took the fall. Your arms were thrown messily around his shoulders, finding a home there, your fingers combing the hair at the base of his neck. He gave you his tongue, offering it like a gift. He wrapped it in your lips, sliding between them, teasing your own tongue with it. There it is, your signature scent, apple and mint, a taste so distinctively yours. He tasted of tobacco and coca cola, and you hadn’t a single complaint about it. You’d happily keep that recipe locked in your mind to associate him with forever. He retracted his lips and you found yourself chasing him, rising onto the tips of your toes, nearly toppling the both of you over in the process. He grinned wide from ear to ear, and you just stood there with your eyes big, gawping at him like a goldfish.

“You might be the sweetest thing I ever tasted.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, caressing your heated cheek with a precise and carefully crafted technique. “Can’t really trust your tastebuds though.” He would never live down them pistachios. “I’m gonna make you forget all about that.” You knew he wasn’t really embarrassed about it, but if he really wanted to offer a mind altering experience, you wouldn’t dare decline. “Is that right?”

“There’s only one room in this entire building without security cameras you know.” It’s far too detailed to be a hint but you hope he took it like that anyway. “What would we need that for?” He pecked you over and over, your body squirmed in is grip. “I think you know what.” He did, he loved idea of it too, it was unique and adventurous and sure maybe there wasn’t much risk of getting caught but that didn’t make the location any less scandalous and out of the ordinary. Calum needed you somewhere private around yesterday. “Care to enlighten me?” He saw the cogs turning and ticking away in your pretty little head. He had a rough idea of where you’d take him, but it didn’t make it any less fun to ask. He needed to hear you say it.

“How sexy is the idea of making out in the stockroom?” You just came out and said it. “How sturdy are the shelves?” You shoved him. “Shut up.” He snickered. “Keep that up and you’ll be banned for life Mr.” He leaned down to kiss that thought from your mind. “You know I can’t survive without this place, it’s just so- “ he paused purposefully, he knew exactly the words he needed but chose not to speak them, “convenient?” you finished for him, to which he nodded along happily. “Convenience corner where all your needs are at your convenience.” You cheerfully recited your slogan, it was adorable to him, nostalgic and cringey to you.

“What else in here is at my convenience?” He pushed the boat out a little. “What would you like?” You played along too, enjoying the way his blush didn’t end with his cheeks but fell down towards his neck as well. “To speak to the manager of this establishment.” You wanted to roll your eyes so badly, but he was just too charming to ridicule. “Think she’s a little busy right now, you’ll have to come back later.” You pulled him back down to kiss you and he relaxed into you within an instant. “Mm, I’d like to ask her something.” He kissed you again. “Oh yeah?” He took a little bit longer to respond that time, your tongue sinking into his mouth, making it pretty difficult for him. “Want her to check something in the back for you?” You encouraged. He nodded down at you eagerly. “Right this way sir.”

You grabbed onto the sleeve of his jacket, tugging his body close to you. He’s about to trip and fall right into your arms for the remainder of the evening but you had other plans. You were leading him elsewhere. In reality, you hadn’t even needed to touch him, he was like a lost puppy in unfamiliar surroundings, only latching onto the one figure he knew, he’d have followed you anywhere. He was whipped. He stumbled along in your path, you may have been short, but you were awfully fast. His vans scuffed across the tiles, squeaking as he walked. It was a step up from his docs but just as irritating. If you weren’t so set on becoming a cliché snogging in the back room, you’d curse him for it. Nevertheless, you lead him to the door just right of the freezer section, you weaved through a sharp right hand turn and kicked open the stockroom door. He wasn’t sure what to expect from it. He’d never really had the need for a job anywhere like this. He didn’t know the ins and outs of what a stockroom could provide. The answer being not a fat lot.

There’s towers of shelves in 3 aisles. Boxes both filled and emptied are spaced out throughout the room. Its colder back here than it was in the main section of the store. It made sense when storing products and trying to preserve them, but it was awfully uninviting. “So, this is kinda the break room too.” You let out. He felt nothing but sympathy for you. There was barely enough room for the 2 of you, let alone any other employees coming and going. He followed you through the aisles toward the back door. Hanging above was the inevitable gleaming green exit sign that glowed more than it should have, casting a faint green light over that portion of the room. His eyes then followed you, stepping on without him, gesturing to a green leather couch he was surprised he hadn’t clocked yet.

“You want a beer or something?” You awkwardly fiddle with a stray, loose strand on your jeans. He shook his head slowly, stepping closer to you. Your legs were already open to straddle the arm of the couch making it easy for him to find himself between them, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You let your arms encase his waist, pushing you face into the fleece he was adorning. Your hair smelt so nice he had to force himself not to take a deep inhale of its fragrance. It wasn’t the weirdest thought that had ever occurred to him in your presence but that just made it worse.

“You’re like a fuckin siren or something.” He blurted out. He expected the way you pulled back, biting your tongue as an attempt not to snigger at him for his comment. “You know what I mean.” He barely defended himself. He started to talk with his hands, and you huffed at the lack of his touch while he did it. “You drag me in here every week. You’re always on my mind. I literally don’t even know your name yet I’m falling over myself trying to be here. I’m back in here like clockwork.” You really ought to tell him, put him out of his misery once and for all.

“It’s Y/n.” You said gently. You should have said more after he’d rambled on like that, but you were struggling on what you could say. You were far worse for expressing your feelings than he was and that was a great feat. “Y/n.” He repeated it a few times, testing it out, deciding he quite liked the sound of it in his mouth. “Yup, not a siren, just Y/n.” You giggled, like a schoolgirl you actually giggled. “Really stepping up our relationship here Cal, what’s next you want my last name too?”

He was already letting his hands cup your chin, deciding he’d been lacking your intoxicating lips for far too long. “I have a couple of ideas in mind stripe.” Before you could protest the foul nickname his lips were back against yours. They slot against your own so neatly you’d argue they were a piece to your puzzle, finally settling into place. You moaned against the tongue swiping across your bottom lip and his knees nearly buckled under the heat of it. “When you moan like that pretty girl,” he can only pull back for a second or two, “makes me weak.” You’re pushing him back; he stumbled about as gracefully as you could imagine in a moment like that, little to 0%. “I like you weak.” You toy with him, stepping towards him, sparking him to back his way up against a shelf.

The wood creaked under the force of him. It dug deep into his spine, but you hadn’t given him a moment to complain before you tangled yourselves together again. “I think your nicknames are getting better.” You praised, looking up at him through your long, curled lashes. The sight had him thinking sinfully. You also took the time to admire him. His curls were messy, framing his face in every which way beneath the pressure of his woolly hat. You needed to see his hair without that god damn beanie on or you might explode. You tugged it off him slowly, grateful he didn’t object. He only squinted at you now that he was aware of just how wild his curls had actually become. They’d sprung out in every direction, you weren’t prepared for the volume, not that you’d even minded. “Fuck.” You sighed. He wished he knew what the context was behind that hot little expression of yours. “I love your hair.” Your eyes were so focused on it as you tangled your fingers briefly, catching a couple of curls accidentally. He let out a puff of air as you caught him like that. “Shit, sorry, couldn’t resist.” He shook the comment away, he knew he was in for it with you.

“So, you’ve lured me back here, now what will you do?” You felt his eyes watching you expectantly, you tried to remain as calm as you could in responding but his gaze burning into you had you tripping over every word before they even threatened to come out. “Have my filthy way with you.” You were dripping with a false confidence; one you hoped he didn’t catch onto. He didn’t. He was heavily convinced you were the filthy minx he’d been dreaming about none stop since he first saw you across the road. Might as well live up to those expectations somehow.

His hands were no longer soft and sweet, barely caressing your frame. His fingers were digging into the flesh of your hips, scooting your body forward till you lined up just right with him, just enough to make him pant with those peachy plush lips. Your own fingertips were buried in the curls at the nape of his neck, and he urged you to tug them in his mind. The guttural moan that escaped him when you finally did it, had you dying to hear it again and again. “Jeez take me to dinner first.” You managed before he’s tucking your bottom lip between his own teeth. “I think you owe me more than one.” You continued in a sudden array of nerves he wasn’t quite used to you having. “Do you ever run out of things to say?” That was his polite and desperate way of asking you to shut the fuck up. You might have done it too.

His hand slipped dangerously onto your throat, light pressure building when he introduced you to the idea of his hand sitting there, capturing you. “I could, but I’d rather not.” He had to smile proudly when you pouted up at him, nails digging into his shoulders when he blocked your airways, little gasps the only sound running from your delicious, fuchsia stained mouth. He leaned in close to your ear, lips brushing the lobe, your eyes were sent rolling back. He’d found one of your weaknesses and you’d only just begun. “Think you should try and stay quiet for a little while.” As much as you loathed being the quiet, obedient woman, if he asked you to jump off a bridge, you were certain you’d do it.

His fingertips pulled back and you surged forwards, lips crashing into his own. You whined a breathless moan into his lips, and he still wasn’t happy with the amount of fuss you were making for him but if you rocked into him the way that you were for much longer, he’d be the one struggling with the silence. As if you were reading his mind, always one step ahead of the game. You were tugging at the green, oversized fleece you’d hoped he’d worn for you.

It hurt to be away from his lips even if it were to rid himself of the many layers that concealed him away from you. “Come on now stripe, wanna see what’s under them.” You wanted to send a snarky comment his way, but you were so breathless at the vision of him stood there without a shirt on and in your fucking stock room no less. “Fucking hell.” Your hands were forgetting every instruction he’d given you. You had a childlike curiosity that needed fulfilment, you’d always wandered about his tattoos. Sometimes for days at a time. Not always at the most convenient of times either, you just couldn’t help yourself. When they graced the back of his hands like that it was only natural to consider how they’d look in situations like- well situations like this one.

“I’ll give you a tattoo tour later.” His forehead was fitted against yours, fingers combing through your hair as his lips ghosted over yours. You closed the gap momentarily, enjoying him before his other hand flushed across your stomach beneath your shirt. Your stomach flipped at the contact. His hands edged over the pudgy skin that was a source of anxiety for you, it always had been. You’d wondered how much he’d actually like you underneath those stripes. “Can I get this off you?” He was trying to connect with you, sensing your hesitation. “You don’t have to.” He promised. “Just really want to see you.” You appreciated his honesty and his kind encouragement. You lifted your top yourself, grateful you couldn’t see his face when it was pulled over your head revealing your upper half to him. The strong urge to suck in a breath hit you like a freight train.

He nearly growled at the sight of your breasts spilling over the cups of your bra. He’d always agreed with women when they said they hated the claustrophobic item of clothing. But seeing your boobs bunched up like that, toppling out of them, he thought he might like bras for the first time in his life. You avoided his gaze. Even going as far as to closing your eyes to avoid the scrutiny. It doesn’t come. His lips were on you so fast, he doesn’t even bother unclipping the thing. He yanked down the cups, bending down at the knees, stuffing your nipples into his mouth like a starved man. You choked out a cry when his teeth tugged at the hardening skin of your nipple. His hips bucked helplessly into yours while he continued his assault. Any fear you’d had was now out of sight and out of mind because the boy before you didn’t care if you were fat or thin, you were his pretty, witty, annoying girl and he wanted to love on every part of you that you’d let him get near which was honestly, all of you.

“Jesus Calum, leave some for the rest of us.” His eyes opened, blinking a couple times as he pulled away, a trail of spit formed between you, connecting his lips to your breast. His cheeks flushed crimson, lips about the same shade, pupils blown out entirely. He was love drunk and as dazed as ever. He caught your eye like the very first time, an accidental staring contest forming from a glance he just could not stop taking. You’d been more than willing to participate this time around.

“Best tits I’ve ever fucking tasted.” You stroked under his chin; he leaned into your palm as you offered him the much appreciated affection. “Anyone would think they’re the first.” Had he really gone that nuts? (Pardon the pun). “Weeks’ worth of pining make you go a little crazy?” He furrowed his brows at the mock hidden poorly in your question. “Wait, wait, wait, you knew?” He was dumfounded. “That you were buying pistachios left right and centre to keep coming back in here?” He nodded along like he was amazed you’d caught on. As if he had even a shred of subtlety. “Doesn’t take much genius.” You tapped your temple symbolically. “So, this whole time you let me buy you out of stock, and didn’t say a damn thing?” You gave him your brightest smile. “You’re so cute when you think you’re undetectable.” Your finger prodded his cheek and he huffed against it.

“I didn’t know you wanted to pound me in the break room or anything, but I caught onto the crush pretty early on.” He was truly mortified. He may have gotten the girl, even had you whining for him tonight, but his pride was certainly damaged. “And you-“ he asked before he wondered if he even wanted to know the answer. “Was hooked day 4 when you tripped on your way in.” He leaned back, eyes closing, hands coming to cover his face, sadly leaving your body. You’re giggling before him, and it feels incredible to witness the joy of hearing it, but his embarrassment was a much stronger sensation.

“It was very cute how you then proceeded to shuffle every step just in case you did it again, even if your damn docs left track marks across my floors.” He was sheepish about that part; he’d find a way to apologise for it at some stage. He’d clean it with a toothbrush if he had to. “This might be super unprofessional of me,” you said as if your entire relationship thus far had been anywhere near adhering to your code of conduct working here. “But the part apart pounding the in the breakroom-“ he was already cutting you off “yes fucking please.” His lips were on yours like they’d never left. Arms wrapped round you so tight you could scarcely breathe. Hadn’t even wanted to.

“You know, I was hoping you weren’t all talk,” he beamed with pride, taking in the sight of your bite swollen lips and chest heaving with ragged breaths, his trail of saliva still glistening across your breasts. He placed a hand on either side of your hips, his head dropped to mouth hungrily at your neck while he’d fastened you in place, a sort of retaliation for your comment just before. Sure, you could talk but he could take action. He could mark a sweet and tender bruise into your collarbone to prove just how much he could back up those words.

“Been wanting to mark you up since we met,” he sighed deeply into the hollow of your throat, you can feel the air leaving your lungs, “what if I’d been wanting that just as bad?” You responded, he didn’t even mind that you did, he may not have been able to shut you up completely but the hint of whining and tiny noises just beneath each word was certainly a victory for him. He had been the only cause. “Oh yeah?” His words vibrates as he dragged his lips across your neck. “What else have you been wanting pretty girl?”

You leave him with nothing for a few seconds. Just weighing up the options in your head. There wasn’t much that you didn’t want him to do. You’d allow just about anything at this point. The lack of an answer was slowly destroying him. He could go ahead and try something he’d wanted but for him, sex wasn’t about that. He needed to tend to your needs. He needed to make you feel good. “Come on baby, don’t hold out on me now.” It’s impatient and desperate and it had you gripping onto him for dear life, a very clear image flashed into your mind of just what you’d wanted from him.

“Your fingers. I need your fingers.” He was already letting his hands slip down your bare tummy before sentence could dare meet its end. Just as quickly as those fingers began drifting, he was retreating. Hands fluttering in the opposite direction, much to your dismay. You barely pout before he’s focusing his gaze on you. He has half the mind to scold your battiness but he’s just so keen to give you what you need, he couldn’t deprive you, not when you looked so sweet. “Do me a favour real quick pretty girl,” you needed a second to recover from the pet name, “suck my finger real slow for me.” You needed several hundred to recover from that. “That’s it, good girl.” It’s extremely condescending and under any other circumstances, you’d be sure to give him a piece of your mind, but this wasn’t a casual scenario. The roles were well and truly reversed and you were throbbing from the realisation that he just might be as fucked up as you were in the bedroom.

“Never been this quiet for me.” You hum sweetly around the second finger he’s pushing into your mouth. You do as you’re told initially, just sucking the digits plainly. Its only when you notice the jagged breaths he’s taking while watching you, that you decide to show off. Just sweet little licks, swirling your tongue around the tips of his rough fingers, admiring the salty taste of his skin across your tongue. When you take him to the knuckle you know he’s fighting all the restraint he has not to ram his fingers right down your throat. “I wish that was my dick so fucking bad.”

Although you don’t expect the blunt and brazen confession, you’re not at all alarmed at the content of it. You knew the tricks to captivate your audience. It was no secret that the two of you would never be anywhere close to each other’s first time but that hadn’t taken any of the excitement and uncertainty away that kept the air heavy with tension. You could never have anticipated just how successful your performance would be with him. “Gotta give me my fingers back now.”

He makes no effort to retract them from the vice grip of your lips despite the contrasting command and his genuine eagerness to hurry this along. “Come on.” He’s grunting, tapping his feet with urgency. You released them with a wet pop that near echoes throughout the room. He’s sliding his now glistening fingers, back down between you both. He’d not noticed, too distracted by your tongue no doubt, you’d already made quick work of unbuttoning your jeans and pushing them down along with your underwear. All he had to do was slip a finger or two daringly over your pussy. A slow stroke through the soft, sweet heaven. It was so inviting, so pretty. He’d not needed to see it at all to know it was perfect. Not in the sense that it was the most attractive or most neat in terms of aesthetic but simply because it was yours, and he wouldn’t dare dream of a better haven than the little mountain peak between the valley of your thighs.

You both let out a rushed sigh. He captured your lips as they invite him to meet. His fingers are met with a soft, supple, soaking welcome. “Baby.” He was about to lose his mind over the sweet wave of wetness that washed over the digits of his fingers as he barely pushes inside. “You’re so fucking wet.” He’s thanking and begging whatever deity above for more of the pleasure of your touch and the ability to make you feel as sticky and sweet as you do across his fingertips. He’d done something very right and wonderful to deserve you in this state and he couldn’t fathom what on earth it may have been, but he’d be sure to repeat it once he did.

All for him, this was all for him. Oh, if only he knew. All his, you were never for anyone else. From the second he walked into your life you were his. He was hoping that too. You thought your eyes were telling him too much, showing him too easily the depths of your affection but they weren’t even close to letting that secret out. He had no idea how you’d wanted him until this moment. This wasn’t even the first occasion you’d been damp at the idea of him. This was just the only situation in which you’d actually be able to do something about it without carrying a backbreaking amount of guilt. He must know this is how it’s been for you.

His fingers don’t dive into you like you may have needed them too, and you did, really. They simply explored you. They were slow to enter but were keen to twist and turn and stretch. He was learning the gateway to your paradise. He was finding the secrets you had hidden. “Fuck.” You were sighing so sweetly for him at each given breath, he might just have figured you out. “Oh, that’s it.” His smile was hard to miss, hard not to mirror too. “Yeah.” You try with all your might to compose yourself, not fall to pieces from the brush of his thumb to your clit while his fingers flickered a beat to the soft and sweet space inside of you. “God yeah that’s it.” You rolled your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers. He’d barely twitched his wrist to aid you, hadn’t needed to. It was far too hypnotising to watch you take it for yourself. “So, fucking pretty baby.” He’s watching with a childlike curiosity, eyes wide, lips parted, brow’s quirking upward with inquisitiveness. “Finally shut you up.” He couldn’t resist the dig. You don’t resist the harsh shove you give his chest. Sending him backwards but never letting his fingers escape you. No, you needed to be filled, you would be filled.

“Gonna get all bratty on me now?” You opened your eyes, a panic washed through them, and he spotted it because he’s not taken his own eyes away from your face from the moment he tucked his fingers inside your damp little pussy. “Not gonna punish you, don’t worry.” You weren’t really worried. It was more of a muscle memory. It was an instinctive reaction to the response you were used to receiving. Even if you hadn’t gotten anything it was nice to know it might have been something he was into, once again checking off an invisible tick list of activities you might enjoy together if you ever did this again and God you hoped you would do this again.

He stroked your hair then, the side of your cheek just after. Your eyes hadn’t opened for the last few minutes, maybe even longer. So difficult to keep them anywhere near open when he’s plunging his fingers inside you like that. It’s not precise, it’s not clean. You wouldn’t say it was particularly clumsy, but it was far from perfect, and yet, you had so enjoyed it. He filled you in a way that there was room for improvement but not enough to avoid the urge to clamp down on his fingers when he’d curled them inside you. He certainly had a handle on that little trick. “Shh, you’re getting so loud sweetheart.” His grin wasn’t seen but it was certainly heard. “Gonna keep it down for me?” You knew he wanted to hear you, couldn’t want anything more actually but the prospect of teasing you and having one over on you where he usually couldn’t, well that was far more tempting to toy with. You knew damn well no one was close enough to hear a peep from either of you even if you screamed and honestly, you just might have.

“Fuck Calum,” he picked up his pace, his lips ghosted over your neck as he reached a new depth inside you. Your pussy clenched on his fingers. Your own nails scraped into his shoulders, biting into his skin, slipping a hiss through his teeth. “Come on baby.” Your eyes fluttered open to catch the look of concentration on his face, his eyes met yours with a twinkle of knowing. He can feel that you’re about to cum. He just knew it. Without your confirmation he knew. Your eyes rolled back, your head too, dropping far enough that your hair dripped down your back like water. He caught the back of your neck to support you. As if he’d really thought of everything. Knew to rescue you from that deep dull ache you might have gotten if he hadn’t bothered. “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” His words had you squeezing him again, so hard he felt his pulse throbbing in his fingers, as well as your own beating deep in your cunt. “Come on sweetie don’t you wanna cum for me, know I’ve thought of little else.” It was like he’d been reborn the second you moaned his name. He was a different person here, he was remarkable. There was a burning passion within him that you’d only hoped he might have but seeing it in practice, confirming your fantasy of how good it could be, God that was enough. You were coming undone.

“So fucking pretty when you cum, you know that?” His fingers left you. You protested with a whimper and the rutting of desperate hips, but it was too late, his fingers were sinking between his lips. You were eyeing him like a tiger watching its prey as he tasted you, devouring your cum slicking his fingers. The noise of satisfaction and crude slurping is pornographic, and you simply can’t bear to be without his touch any longer. If he didn’t bury his stupid cock inside you, you’d never shut up ever again so long as you shall live. You’d make his every visit here his personal hell until he gave in and gave you what you needed. “You taste fucking delicious.” That tiny restraint you’d mustered in the past five seconds. Instantly disposed of.

Your hands flew to the zipper of his jeans, slinking inside them, hands coming down to grope the bulge concealed by his underwear. His lips parted as you kissed him, curiously gathering your own taste wrapped around his tongue. His back slammed roughly against the shelf and his only retaliation was to bite down hard on your bottom lip, fingers pulling on your hair to make you back up and add some space between you. “Jesus Calum, I know you want me to shut my mouth but biting off my bottom lip won’t do it.” He was apologetic in his mind but only in his mind. “Couch.” Is all he said. You shook your head. “No?” He took a daring step towards you unhappy with your defiance. Just as he’d tamed you, you go and act out again. It would never be enough, you only needed more. You shook your head, holding a breath as he looked around the room for other possible locations. He was sure he’d fuck you on the floor if it came to it. He hoped it wouldn’t come to it.

“I’ve never fucked standing up.” Is what you offered him, shoulders shrugging as you come out with it. He’s amused for sure. Not exactly the way he’d imagined his first time with you going but then again, he also didn’t imagine it being in the break room or this shop at all really. “Okay.” His calming smile settled the tension in the pits of your stomach. “Okay?” You asked him quietly. At first he thought you were just mimicking him in efforts to gain control but then he heard the way it wavered and pitched higher at the end. He broke his tough act and cupped your face in his hands. He adored the way you looked back at him, not a rain cloud or single storm in your sky. “Gonna need you to turn around for me.” He made no effort to let you move just yet, awaiting your willingness to comply before he set you free. He kissed you briefly before you did as he wanted without question, turning 180 degrees to face the shelves pressed to the wall.

He took both of your wrists from behind. You allowed his grip to guide you, first assuming he’d be crossing them behind your back, a flurry of excitement tingling within you. But instead, you found he’d lifted them forwards, your hands slipping onto the shelf in front of you as he’d wanted, holding onto it instinctively, realising now that he’d been offering you stability instead. Your body burned even brighter than before. You’d be needing something to grip because he wasn’t going to take you lightly, you needed to hold onto something if you were going to cope with him.

He knew you couldn’t possibly break. You’d proven to him already that you could handle it. You were so prepared to take him. Until you’d noticed the one little error of your ways. You’d not had the chance to see him, to wonder if your assumptions had been correct. You’d not known how big or how thick he was or how it’d curve and which direction it would curve in if it even curved at all. You may have felt your arousal trickling down your thighs. You may have been holding your breath and white knuckling the shelves before he even attempted to prick you but oh my. You were not even remotely prepared for the fullness.

Calum’s hands rested heavy on your hips. You expected to feel the nudge of his hand grazing your backside as he touched himself in preparation to graze your cunt, but he does no such thing. He simply thrusted himself between the hot, wet mess of your lips and cunt with no attempt to enter you at all. He didn’t dare stop until he was satisfied with the coating of your dampness now slicking his cock ready to take you. He leaned forward, chest embracing your back. He flipped your hair over your shoulder, his chin resting in the now empty space he’d created on the other side. You felt a slight drag of stubble close to your neck before he’s uttering his instructions for you. “Take my cock in your hand.” You shuddered under the breath he fanned across your ear. “Come on baby, just for me.” He kissed your neck in encouragement. His arms wrapped around your middle. Your left hand released the shelf with a crack at the knuckle, finding a new home now between your legs. You leant down, back arching, ass pushing out, bumping him as you refrained from hunching to complete your task.

You didn’t miss the way his hips bucked, and his cock jumped when your fingers found him. You didn’t miss how only your middle and ring finger could span the entirety of his thickness. You didn’t miss how one hand wasn’t nearly enough to capture his full length at once. And you certainly didn’t miss the amount of exposed skin going untouched when you glided your hand up and down him just to gather a better picture in your mind of what he might look like. You knew that in fact, it may take two. Two of your palms and even the addition of your lips at his tip to fully encase him. He was big. He was mouth-wateringly, cunt achingly big. You tugged him inside of you and braced the for the heat of the fever it brought upon your body. “Jesus fucking Christ.” A groan ripped from his throat.

He expected to give you a moment. He expected you to need adjusting like those he’d had before. He expected you to cry that it was too much and all too soon and that you couldn’t possibly take him completely. He expected his ego to be boosted so high he wondered how we was ever nervous of being with you in the first place. It never came. You didn’t dare wait to accept the intrusion of his thick cock. You didn’t dare to linger and wonder if it would ever start to feel better than a stretch. You just pushed your hips back onto him, your ass flush against his pelvis, cock sheathing itself inside you as far as it could go and then some. And then some because you’re not just taking him whole, swallowing him up till he couldn’t reach any further. No, you’re wiggling your ass, skin recoiling and wobbling against him with the quickness of your movement. You’re taking his cock so deep he’s feeling claustrophobia from the way your cervix is blocking his path, walls closing in on him preventing him from travelling deeper. And it excited you to think about the delicious specks of pain his hot cock was pricking your insides with.

It took every ounce of his strength not to flood you with his cum that very second. He could have done it. He wouldn’t have been embarrassed, not when it felt that good just to be inside you. Not when you really were made to engulf him in your flames. If he finished, who could blame him? To be hugged like that. To be warm and snug and held so tight. It would be cruel for anyone to tease a premature finish from a predicament like that.

“Baby, baby please.” Your voice was shaky, breathy, and so quiet. No wonder he hadn’t heard you over his own thoughts. How was it that you were the one stuttering when it was you that had felt so transcendent, not him? You had no fucking idea how well you took him. Even when he’d been standing there in bliss so long he’d forgotten he was supposed to be moving and enjoying you in the first place. It slipped right by you.

He kissed your neck, sucking sweet bruises beside those already scattered there previously. His hips pulled back, cock barely leaving you before surging back forwards. He pulled back further each time, pulling more of him away only to force it back in again with the echo of your wet cunt bouncing around the room. You gripped the shelves so hard you feared you may dent them, as he drove his cock into you. His hips pulsed into yours, balls slamming into you whenever his pelvis made contact. His one hand dug into the flesh of your waist, bunching your skin in his fingers, gripping so tight you worried he might pull the chunk clean off of you. Every now and then he bit down on your shoulder when you convulsed around him. “Keep squeezing me like that and I’m gonna fucking lose it.” You took it as an invitation to grip him again. He felt good because of you. You felt good because of him. Might as well enjoy it.

You threw your head back, resting it against his shoulder, exposing more of your throat to him as you started to fuck yourself onto his cock. He was losing it, not sure he ever had it to begin with actually, not around you. With every second passing by. Every time you made a fucking sound you drove him to madness. You were absolutely feral. You had all of the power. You met his every thrust. You angled him towards you, to your liking, even standing on the tips of your toes to feel him rub your sweet spot the way you’d needed. How was it that you’d ended up back in charge? Even when he’d been so convinced he’d gotten you where he wanted. Your pussy was so damn distracting, that’s how.

“Oh Calum.” He was revving himself up to regain control of you. His spare hand trapped your throat, his fingers and thumb adding little to no pressure around your neck just yet. “Please, God please fucking choke me.” His lips grunted heavily into your ear. Of course, you wanted it before he’d really thought about it. Always one step ahead of him even now. “This what you like?” He was beginning to constrict you, knowing full well you couldn’t communicate effectively now that he had but this time, he’d actually force you to.

“Come on, tell me.” Despite the steadiness of his tone, his lower half was anything but steady. He was pounding into you. It was so hard for you to focus and feel the structure of your own body as well as the shelf before you rattling away violently. You were trembling at his thrusts. Your back arched involuntarily. You pushed back to meet his hips whenever you could, and he certainly didn’t let you slip away far enough to make it easier on you. You were so overwhelmed you couldn’t tell which way was up, down, left, or right. He’d fucked you completely dumb, no thoughts swirling around your pretty little head anymore and yet, he needed the conversation. Why would he dare to make your life easier now?

“Tell me you like it; tell me you like my hand on your throat. Tell me how you like my cock fucking your pussy. Tell me this cunt is mine baby come on.” He was pushing you; he was forcing a response you’re too embarrassed to give and he was desperately hanging on the edge waiting to hear your confirmation. “Tell me baby!” He was the one crumbling to pieces now. His fingers loosened around your throat in an attempt to draw the words from it but it’s not his hand that was the problem. The problem was that you couldn’t dare speak because if you did, if you even attempted to produce a sound he’d know what you were doing. He’d know that you were so needy and gagging for it that you’d been cumming all over his cock just from the way he spoke to you. “I- love-.” You just couldn’t say it. You couldn’t catch your breath, you just moaned hard. “Fuck, did you just, did you just cum?”

You were so embarrassed. You knew he wasn’t upset; how could he be? He’d made you finish not once but twice in one night; your first night together might he add. Your embarrassment was lying in the fact you weren’t even close to being finished with him. You needed more. You had to get more. You’d had a taste of his addictive drug and you were not going to relinquish it now. “Good fucking girl.” He rasped. “Fuck you’re so good, unbelievable, unreal.” He was a mess of praises and curses. He was mind blown at the response he received from you. He knew it was good, knew you were feeling good but if he’d known you’d fall for him like this, he’d have made a move a lot sooner.

“More Cal, I need more.” His eyes nearly bulged from his skull. “What’s fucking wrong with you?” You snorted out a laugh to his question. You wish you fucking knew. Your body was way out of your control now. “Just fucking me so good.” You knew he wasn’t buying it. “Please baby.” He scoffed at your level of greed. You’re not playing it up to make him cum, you’re doing it because you want to another orgasm for yourself.

“You’re such a slut, you know that?” You did, you really did. “You’ve been holding out on me hmm, standing all sweet and precious behind that counter. Made me think that glitter lip gloss smile was sent from heaven above. You’re just another whore though aren’t you?” You were nodding furiously. “Been wanting this the whole tine haven’t you?”

His hips were more erratic and aggressive now. He was fucking into you so hard it actually started to hurt him as well as you. It was so hard your feet didn’t stay in the same spot for long, his thrusts forcing your form forward each and every time no matter how much you fought to remain still. “Fuck fuck.” You weren’t sure who it came from. You were reduced to nothing. No words, nothing coherent anyway, I mean fuck, you couldn’t even breathe properly, couldn’t stand properly. You were getting fucked rougher than you ever could have imagined and your whole body ached in pain but just to feel him you stood there and took it. You took it all.

“Cum already.” He half demanded half begged. He was on the cusp and would be damned if you didn’t finish before him even if it was your third time. “Or I finish without you.” A very empty threat. If he’d held it this long, he had the patience of a saint and he could wait a bit longer for it. His hips snapped into yours, cock so sharp inside you, spearing into you, ramming inside your cunt like it was the last thing he would ever do. He chased and chased the euphoric feeling, suddenly neglecting to check if you had found your own, so ready to take you for real, to give you all he had. “Fuck, where should I?” He tried to string the thought together before it was already too late.

You wanted it inside, more than anything you want it inside you, flooding your pussy, filling you up so much you overflow. You couldn’t be so irresponsible. Not this time. “Pull out, cum on me, come anywhere on me.” He pressed sweet kisses atop your spine while his cock still rocked into you milking your tight cunt for all it was worth right up until he couldn’t bare it any more, cock slipping out, his hands gripping it, pulling on the wet flesh before he jerked off, his release dripping hot beads of cum to coat the roundness of your ass. He gasped and grunted as he emptied himself, forehead pushing into your spine, sweat sliding down it. His left hand clutched yours pulling it down from the shelf to interlock with his. Once his breath was less short he brought it to his lips for a sweet kiss so unlike your treatment a moment ago.

The two of you stood there with your legs shaking and your breath ragged. “Jesus fucking Christ.” You broke the silence with a croaky voice, a surprise to neither of you with the amount of screaming you’d done. Calum sighed deeply, and you thought he might tell you to shut the fuck up, wouldn’t even blame him for it actually, but it never came. He instead pulled away from you, slinking down to his knees to grab your jeans and the panties crumpled inside them, sliding them back up your legs.

He used his discarded shirt to wipe the mess he’d made of your back, before tossing it to the ground, making a move to grab your striped top. He prodded your hips to get you to turn around, gasping at the blood trickling down your lower lip. “Oh sweetheart.” His thumb dipped to gather it away, lifting to show it to you briefly before suckling it into his mouth like some kind of vampire. You simply couldn’t avoid the way your lips whined at it. “Oh no, no way, you’re not getting turned on again, you’re banned.” He pecked your nose to lessen the threat before pulling your shirt over your head. He was hoping you might lift your arms to slip inside the material but not he wasn’t upset or surprised when he’d had to really commit to dressing you by himself.

When your head poked back through the material, a pout was coating your lips. “No seriously, what’s wrong with you?” He tried to deadpan the question, but you knew he wasn’t the slightest bit concerned for you. He enjoyed your neediness, it had him unashamed of the throbbing sensation returning to his cock at the vision of you bloodstained lips. The lips you’d bitten cause his cock was too fucking much for you, he adored that thought.

“You’re pretty mean.” You commented with lack lustre intensity. “And you’re pretty.” He responded, he didn’t even cringe, neither did you, thankfully. He continued to dress you till there were none of your clothes left lying around. He guided you over to the sofa, letting you rest before he even considered throwing his fleece back on. It wasn’t as if he was cold enough for it anyway, your comfort was more his concern right now. If that was the state of your lip, he can only imagine the damage to the rest of you.

“Can we cuddle?” You didn’t really think about how possible that would be on the tatty couch you now sat upon. The one you’d gotten from a thrift store a couple months back, painstakingly dragging it through the fire exit singlehandedly. Once he’d gathered his belongings he sat beside you, the couch dipping where his body sank down. He grabbed you with ease, bringing you into him. You cuddled into his side, your head first on his shoulder before dropping lower with your fatigue. You were now resting somewhere across his chest, low enough for him to rest his head atop yours. He stroked over your back absentmindedly but soothingly enough to have your eyes closing in relaxation. He caught your head drifting, twitching as you stumbled into slumber, the peace of being in his arms just carrying you far away.

“Hey pretty girl.” He nudged you lightly. “Don’t really think you wanna fall asleep right here.” He knew he wasn’t far behind you, but he had no intention of spending the night in that store room, even if the building was becoming his favourite place on earth. “What about upstairs?” You half yawn. “Upstairs?” He repeated it as a question. “Mmhmm.” You responded, as if it made it anymore clear to him. “A shred of context might be nice stripe.” You may have been exhausted but you were not about to let that nickname go unpunished. “Firstly, fuck off, secondly, when you fuck off, be sure to go through that door.” You weakly pointed at the door adjacent to the fire exit, again, something in this room he’d never have noticed unless it was pointed out to him. It must have been some kind of magic, surely he wasn’t ignorant enough not to spot that. “I live upstairs if you haven’t caught on yet, handsome.” He rolled his eyes playfully and you knew what was coming next when he started smirking before he even finished the sentence. “Well, isn’t that convenient?”

470 notes · View notes

bratzforchris · 1 year

Text

Masterlist

Hello! This is a complied list of all my works for you to enjoy! Please remember that my writing does not reflect 5sos in real life; it is purely fiction 🎀🤍

🌷=fluff

🖇=angst

💋=smut

🧸=age regression

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

Luke Hemmings

I have a separate masterlist of Luke works because I have way more of those than anything else :). That can be found here!

Michael Clifford

🌷 I'll Always Listen

🌷 To the Moon and Back

🌷 You're Beautiful

💋 Streams

💋 Don't Worry Baby

Calum Hood

🧸 My Baby

🌷 Unhappy Halloween

🌷 Five More Minutes

🌷 Marriage

💋 Latin and Pentagrams

🌷 Tour Struggles

💋 Softie

Ashton Irwin

🌷 I'll Take Care of It

🌷 Study Stress

🌷 Feel Better

🌷 Bad Days

🌷 Ours

5 Seconds of Summer

💋 Five Sauce

Lashton

🌷 Brothers

🌷 You'll Be Okay

Muke

🌷 The Dress

🖇 Diagnosis

🌷 Woke Up In Japan

🧸 Luke's Secret

Cake

🧸 Little Lukey

🧸 New Toys

Mashton

🌷 Cupid

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

All works posted here are my original ideas and stories unless otherwise stated. Please do not post elsewhere or copy my work.

Updated: February 13th, 2024

Requests are here <3

86 notes · View notes

storyof5secondsofsummer · 1 year

Text

It’s been a week now but mentally I’m still at the 5SOS Show

70 notes · View notes

suchalonelysunflower · 2 years

Text

Had My Chances (c.h)

Pairing: Calum Hood x Fem! Reader

Requested? Yes, by the lovely @getsojaded

Summary: Based on the One Direction song "loved you first" Calum can't help but feel jealous to see you with another man.

Warnings: Angst! Language, mentions of alcohol, smoking. Some grammatical mistakes (English is not my first language, I'm sorry)

Word count: 4.6K

Author's note: I've finally wrote an angst that broke my heart again, and I'm so happy with it. Remember that REBLOGS are very IMPORTANT AND MEAN A LOT as well as COMMENTS AND INTERACTIONS. PLEASE SUPPORT YOUR WRITERS. Hope you like it and happy reading

My masterlist // taglist on bio!

Calum was choking the hell out of his beer can, leaving the imprints of his fingers as evidence for the poor soul that had to clean this mess up later.

It was an unconscious type of thing - he’s been doing a lot of unconscious things lately, none of them his fault, he would argue - but the intent behind it is nothing innocent.

There was a time when he used to be the life of the party. Or at least a bit more vivid than just standing in a far-off corner glaring at someone who barely paid attention to him. He didn’t mean to glare or to even look in their direction, but it was impossible to take his eyes off them. It was almost as if he wanted to hurt so badly he’d find a way out of heartache. Battle fire with fire and those sorts of things.

“Okay, who are we hatin’?”

He didn’t even need to look to his right to know that Ashton was standing there even before he spoke. His friend - the ever more intuitive when it came to talking about heartbreak or breaking hearts - should already know the answer to his question, and Calum knows he knows. Ashton just wants him to admit it.

Still, Ashton followed his gaze till it landed on the target.

“Cal,” He sighed “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Nor her, for that matter”

“I’m not doing anything” Calum mumbled into his drink.

“You’re overthinking”

“And you should mind your own business” He spat, leaving the poor, abused can on the shelf behind him.

Calum walked outside, trying to get some air before his hands started roaming through his pockets looking for his pack of cigarettes. He tried to quit it, and many times he tried in vain. There was always something that pulled him into the vice again. Tonight was the selfish need of having the power to hurt himself without people noticing. Something he could regret tomorrow. Something that didn’t involve making the mistake of spilling and saying what he should’ve said years ago.

The lighter provided the only gleam of the outsides that night. As Calum inhaled the toxins of his favorite weapon, he closed his eyes and hoped to wake up and let all of this be a dream. But that wish went away with the smoke he pulled out of his lungs, watching it disappear into the night till it merged with the stars above.

He was not a man used to not getting what he wanted. So is this a gut punch to his ego? Yes, of course. But had he not been in love for some time he’d believe that it’ll come to pass, ignoring the heart-wrenching reality of him not being able to lightly caress your hair with the tip of his fingers; or not care about how his body moved him toward your space every time you were around; or claim that the times you were both in a group laughing, he would stare at you, drinking on your reaction and getting drunk of your laugh, while you stared at someone else.

It was just usual for him not getting what he wanted. But this was beyond any desire of his. This, for a lack of better words, was beyond his reach. And he hated it. He hated every moment of it since the first time he realized it, hoping it’ll go away.

But what could he expect from falling for his best friend?

Calum always believed in past lives and how you’re meant to reconnect with people that have meant something important to you. Whether it was in the form of a mother, a father, a pet, a friend, a teacher, a lover… Soulmates will find their way.

He also believed that his brothers were his soulmates. He knows deep in his heart that Luke, Michael, Ashton, and himself were meant to meet in every life, making music and sharing their message across the world for other people to hear. He also believed that his dog, Duke, might’ve come to him as a guide. An old teacher who bound his life to appear in the moments he needed most. He believes that his family would always be his family, maybe in different ways, but they’ll always come together one way or another.

Now, there is one thing Calum isn’t sure of, and that is you.

What were you to him before? Why are you here with him? And why does he feel compelled to be your everything?

When you met years ago, Calum didn’t think much of that first encounter. You were just a friend of a friend, a normal acquaintance. But then you kept meeting each other, whether at a party or a concert. And every time you grew closer. Whether it was the jokes you shared, the similar tastes in music and movies, the way you made each other laugh, or the secret codes you accidentally created. He was just eighteen back then, but he knew it had to mean something.

He just couldn’t figure out what role you played in his life. Not yet, at least.

“I don’t think that because you had a bad experience with milk you become lactose intolerant,” You said casually as you applied your mascara in the mirror.

It was not unusual for Calum to find himself pressing the facetime button to call you every day now, especially given that he was on the other side of the country touring with his band. The calls would mostly consist of him telling you about his day and you doing the same as the two of you would go on with your lives as if you were in the same room together even though you’re miles apart.

The two of you would indulge in conversations that could be as deep as a puddle of water - as the one you’re having now - or as deep as the sea. Never once feeling uncomfortable or falling silent. And even in the quiet types of calls, when you only need to feel each other’s presence after a long day, you would embrace the silence as a comfort rather than an inconvenience.

And Calum loved that. He loved these little moments with you. It didn’t matter if they lasted two minutes or three hours. He just knew that talking to you was one of the top best moments of his day.

He just didn’t understand why yet

“I could be, though” He pouted, watching as you applied blush to your cheeks “And the next time you take me for ice cream I might die and it’ll be your fault for playing it down”

You chuckled “I don’t think that’s how it works, babe”

And there it was, that little, weird feeling that made him all warm and fuzzy inside, triggered by a nickname. Calum quickly swallowed it down, just marking it up as the victory that was to make you laugh.

Still, he changed the subject.

“Why are you getting all dolled up?” He asked. Ignoring the way Luke looked at him for a second before going back to playing subway surfers on his phone.

“I’m going out”

“Where?”

“Dinner I guess, probably dancing afterward” You shrugged, trying to decide on which lipstick would suit best with your outfit.

“Girls' night?”

“No, it’s more like a date, I think. Well, he didn’t actually say “date - date” but I mean, he did everything you do when you ask someone for a date and-” You looked at your phone screen “Are you okay?”

Only then did Calum realize he clenched his jaw. He blinked at you and disguised it with a fake yawn.

“I didn’t know you had a date,” He said, trying to sound uninterested, but Luke’s eyes on him told him he was a bullshit actor.

You didn’t seem to catch it, though.

“I told you I was going out with Jessie”

“I thought you meant Jessica”

“Does it matter?” You asked, cornering him to a wall - metaphorically.

Calum sighed “Nope, just be safe and have fun, alright?”

You rolled your eyes and sarcastically said “Yes, dad” as you applied some gloss. Just in time for the doorbell to ring “Oops, that’s him. Wish me luck!”

And it might’ve been your smile and the way your eyes lit up when the doorbell rang knowing it was Jessie on the other side, or it might’ve been the spoiled milk he had in his coffee earlier. But there was an uneasy, foreign feeling in Calum’s chest as you said goodbye. Almost as if he didn’t want you to go at all.

But that was crazy. It’s probably nothing. So he smiled tightly and said “Bye, Y/N/N” and watched as you faded away before the facetime call ended.

Calum closed his eyes for a moment, frowning upon discovering this sunken feeling in his chest.

However, it didn’t last much as Luke was suddenly blasting “Jessie’s girl” through the hotel room’s speakers. Calum - rightfully so - smacked him with a pillow.

“Shut up” He groaned.

“I didn’t say anything!” Luke laughed

“You were going to!”

“How the fuck should you know?!”

A string of grumbled curses left Calum’s lips as he got up from the bed and went through his suitcase.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going out with Ash, wanna come?” He said, putting on a clean shirt.

“I didn’t know you were going out” Luke commented as he got up and went to find a shirt as well.

“We are now, c’mon”

To say the other two were surprised by Calum’s sudden need to go partying was an understatement given that Michael already was in his pajamas when the bassist went and knocked on their door, but neither of them was opposed to the idea. Soon, the whole band was dancing and drinking out at a club neither of them knew about one hour ago.

And if Calum was seen dancing and making out with a girl that looked like you, it was no one’s business but his own. And when he woke up next to a said girl a few hours later, no one needed to know.

The night was turning warmer, though that could be because of the alcohol and the three cigarettes he had since he came outside. The party was still in full swing but he wanted no part of that. Not when you were there with… him.

It’s stupid and he knows it. To have this unsolved grudge against you and every person you date.

You don’t owe him anything, no explanation or justification for any relationship you had or the one you were currently in. But he can’t help it. It’s just that every time he sees you wrapped around your partner’s arms he just wants to rip them off you and shield you from anyone’s eyes. From the moment he first noticed his feelings toward you it was clear that he couldn’t act on them to not ruin the relationship you two have.

He hates them. Every single one of them, every bloke that broke your heart or made you cry. He hates the ones you fell in love with, the ones that loved you back. The one that’s sitting on the couch next to you with his arms around your shoulder and the one that makes you laugh. He hates him the most and he’s not above showing it.

It’s not healthy but he doesn’t know how to stop.

“Why are you so protective of me?” You asked him once and he didn’t know how to tell you, so he made his heart quiet as his mind gave him a logical reason.

There were so many times when he could’ve fessed up and just tell you as it is. To make him the one that you would share your nights with instead of useless men who are not worthy of you.

Was he worthy of you?

Time for another cigarette.

Calum opened the door to find you there with a friendly smile; a pint of ice cream; a skin-care kit; and a bottle of wine. He couldn’t help but laugh as he stepped back so you could enter his house.

“I told you I’m fine,” He said, shaking his head as you made yourself comfortable on his couch, settling all the post-break-up necessities on the table.

“And I believe you,” You shrugged. “But I also know you, Cal. And you say you’re okay now but in a week it’ll all crash down as it always does because you bottle up your feelings. So let’s get them out of the way while we avoid the wreckage”

“I thought you didn’t even like her,” He said, sitting down next to you.

“I never said that!”

Calum gave you a look.

“I just didn’t think you were a good fit… that’s all” You confessed sheepishly.

Calum sighed “Well, you were right”

“I didn’t want to be” You scooted closer to him “I’m sorry, Cal. You truly seemed happy with her. And I liked seeing you happy”

He nodded but didn’t say anything. The break-up happened just a couple of days ago, and you were right when it came to talking about feelings now rather than later. But it was all so very new to him.

“I just- I never had a relationship like this before” He confessed.

“You really liked her, didn’t you?”

And yes, he did. For the first time in years, Calum could actually focus on a relationship. He had met his ex at a party, they talked all night and then he went home with her number saved on his phone. What followed were almost two years of amazing moments and memories filled with love but… something wasn’t right.

It wasn’t something any of them did, it just sort of happened. Blame the routine and the lack of effort from both parties, but they didn’t feel as if the relationship should continue. Yes, he would always feel something for her and would treasure those memories with care. Yet, he can’t say he’s sad and broken.

All his past relationships ended in heartbreak because his partners felt like a third wheel in their own relationships. And they had every right to break up with him. For all he knew, Calum just jumped into those relationships to get over you or to distract himself into loving another person that wasn’t you, all for nothing. Yet this relationship seemed like the real deal, the one that could actually sweep him off his feet and take his mind off of you, truly making him feel alive. And it worked until it didn’t. Until she called things off saying

“I don’t know if it’s me or if it’s you, but this is not working. We haven’t been working for a while now, have we?”

All he could do was agree and let her go. He loved her enough to do that without a fight. Or didn’t love her as he should. And maybe all she wanted was for him to fight for them, guess he let themselves down on that one. But if all these break-ups had something in common, is that you would always be there by his side to cheer him up.

“She deserves someone that can provide her with what she needs,” He said as you both sit with face masks and two glasses of wine filled to the brim “I guess it was not meant to be me”

“I’m sorry, Cal” You gave him a small, apologetic smile, while your hand went to his shoulder and squeezed it. His hand soon fell on top of yours “I’m proud of your decision, though, you and hers. It’s not healthy to be hung up in a relationship that’s just not going anywhere”

“Yeah, I know” He sighed, hiding the small smile that popped up when you didn’t retrieve your hand from his “It’s not like I’m heartbroken or anything, it’s just- I guess I’m just frustrated that we couldn’t make it work. None of my relationships seem to last because of that”

“Well, have you wondered why?” You sat up with interest, turning toward him and moving your hand to his thigh. Something completely innocent on your part, but that still made Calum’s heart beat a little bit faster.

“Of course I have”

“So what is keeping you from going after what you want in a relationship? Is it a previous heartbreak?”

“No… I don’t think I had one of those before” He said like a liar.

He knew that his heart was in perpetual mourning because of you, he was just too proud to admit it. All his past attempts at love were only meant to get over you and forget about the person you were currently hung up with.

Whenever you would tell him about a date or a new partner he’d made sure he’d have another story for you. Some of them made up on the spot, some taking inspiration from one of his friend’s dates, some of them real but without the same, genuine excitement you showed for your love life. A love life that didn’t include him.

Unconsciously, he made it a competition. Did you go on a date? He went on two. Did you kiss someone? He spent the night in another bed. All just so you could give him some type of reaction. Any indication that you were mad or uncomfortable about it. About him dating someone that isn't you. But every time you were supportive, feeling happy for him, and even encouraging him to call girls he didn’t even want to know more than just a one-night stand.

Calum only ever wanted for you to feel like he feels whenever he has to hear about the new guy that brought you flowers; the one that took you on a spontaneous trip to the Grand Canyon; or the one that cooked you a homemade meal for your first date. All the things that were killing him, he hoped you could feel at least a small amount of it. Waiting for you to realize it sooner rather than later.

“What?” You chuckled, nudging him with your elbow “The great Calum Hood never had his heart broken, he just breaks all the hearts along the way”

He laughed, pushing you slightly “Not all the hearts”

“Oh yeah, the other ones are Ashton’s job”

Calum just shook his head, quieting the voice in his head telling him that he didn’t break all the hearts because he was not going to break yours if given the chance to have it.

“Laugh all you want, you little gremlin,” He said

“Aww, Cal, I’m sorry” You pouted “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just really want you to be happy, you know? Find your person and all of that”

“I am happy, Y/N” He stated matter-of-factly “I have the band, the fans, Duke… I have you”

“I know, and I’m also so happy to have you” You smiled, lacing your fingers with his “But I’m talking about “the one”. You know, the one that makes your heart go crazy and the world spin around slower. The one that occupies your mind and every time you think about them you can’t help but smile. Someone that you can actually fall in love with. I’m not talking about marriage or things that we don’t believe in most of the time. But the one that makes the heartbreaks and disappointments all worth it because it led you to them”

Calum stared at you with an unreadable look in his eyes. How could you describe exactly what he was feeling but still have no idea that he has those feelings for you?

It has been a long time since he accepted you as being more than friends, or at least in his heart he knows you could be more. You were just perfect in every way, made just for him. And he loves you, he loves you so much without a hint of fear or doubt. But you just can’t see it.

“Maybe there is someone…” He mumbled, ready to spill his heart out to you on a silver platter.

But before you could register his words, your phone started ringing.

“Shit, wait a second,” You said, grabbing your phone from the table. Calum saw the small smile that formed on your lips before you declined the call “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Y/N, I-” He started again, and once again your phone interrupted him. He sighed “You should get that”

“What?” You asked, already silencing the phone again “No, it’s nothing, I promise”

“Who is it, though?”

“Oh, it’s just Matt”

“Matt?”

“Yeah, I told you about him, remember?” And he wished he didn’t.

You told him you were going on a date with someone called Matt a couple of weeks ago. He didn’t know you were still talking, let alone that you moved on to the “call” phase of the relationship. And now he couldn’t help but notice the gleam in your eyes when you said his name, a gleam that he knew would never be reserved for him.

“I forgot to tell him that he needn’t call me tonight” You sighed, already texting him. Calum could see the disappointment in your eyes.

“You should call him”

“What? No, Cal, I’m here for you and nothing is going to change that”

“I know, and thank you for that,” He said, faking his smile as much as he could “But I know you, and I know you want to call him so go ahead. I don’t mind”

You sighed “Thanks, babe. I’m just going to tell him tonight is off limits, it’ll take five minutes and then I’m all yours”

Oh and how it hurt him hearing you laugh from the kitchen as those five minutes went on. You sounded so happy and full of joy… he couldn’t take that from you now and, plus, would you even believe him?

Matt… what does he have that Calum doesn’t? Apparently, all the necessary to make you come back all giddy and blushing.

And when you sat up next to him and changed the topic back to Calum, his glass was already half empty.

“Hey, mate” Calum heard after the door slid open. Ashton soon stood next to him “Ready to go back in there?”

“Would Michael miss me if I don’t sing happy birthday to him?”

“You will break his heart” Ashton chuckled, trying to make him laugh as well but to no avail “You can’t avoid her forever, you know? She’s starting to notice”

“Well about fucking time” Calum spat, throwing the last of his cigarette to the floor.

Ashton sighed “Cal, c’mon… It’s not fair on her”

“It’s not fair to me either! What do you think, Ash? Do you think it’s funny for me to see her with him? To know every fucking detail of her happy life with Matt as if it didn’t kill me inside? It’s been years! Years where I have been so fucking close to telling her how I feel but there’s always him in the middle!”

He wasn’t crying, and he would not cry either. But he stopped hiding the rage he felt as his true feelings came spilling out of his mouth like a fountain of truth. He’d never said any of this out loud but now it seemed impossible to stop it.

“I’m just so fucking tired of seeing her with him. Seeing her kissing him, holding his hand, going on dates… All the things I should be doing with her”

“Cal…”

“No, fuck it! It’s true! It should be me! It always should’ve been me” His voice broke a little in the end “I should be the one in his place. I should’ve told her everything that night years ago, then I could be the one sitting on the couch with her, laughing and sharing those touches she thinks no one sees. But I do. All the fucking time those moments play on a loop inside my head and it’s making me want to scream. She’s the first girl I ever loved, the one that breaks my heart every single day because I keep letting her. She’s the one that’s making me feel like this without her knowing and it’s not fair! I could go in there right now and tell her how I feel but that won’t change a thing! She’ll still choose him! But I loved her first, Ash. I loved her first!”

Suddenly, all the air in his lungs was being crushed as Ashton brought him closer for a bone-wrenching hug.

For the first time that night, Calum relaxed. He let his body fall against Ashton’s frame as he hugged him back, hiding his face in his neck as the high of his confession wore off.

“I know it hurts,” Ashton said, lowly “But you can’t keep doing this to yourself, Cal”

“I know,” He sighed, pulling himself from the hug and patting Ashton’s arms “I don’t want to feel this way but I just can’t- I can’t let her go”

“Then try. You love her, do that for her”

“But what if-”

“If she feels the same and realizes that someday, then she’ll come to you. Don’t keep on waiting for an “if” Cal, you deserve more than that and so does Y/N”

Calum sighed and nodded, shaking his head a minute later from the overload of feelings. It wasn’t normal for him to snap like that, but it has been years since he kept it all in. It was bound to come out sooner or later, but he’d hope for a better outcome.

“Knock-knock!” Someone said behind them “Am I interrupting something?”

The two of them turn around to find you standing at the door, smiling at them as if nothing happened.

Immediately Calum started to panic, fearing that you’d heard everything. He said he hated your boyfriend, that he wishes he’d take his place, that he loved you… And you might’ve heard all of it while he was on a rant.

“H-hey, Y/N! Not at all, what’s up?” Ashton played the calm one, giving Calum time to freak out internally.

You were still smiling at them as you pointed back inside “We’re about to sing happy birthday, didn’t think you wanted to miss out”

You were acting so calm, with a big, kind smile on your face. Maybe you didn’t hear anything and just watched them hug awkwardly for a minute there. Calum could only hope. But then you smiled at him and nudged your head toward the party, and all he could do was breathe out and smile back, calming his nerves a little bit.

The three of you went back inside, quickly surrounding Michael as Luke brought out the cake and you all started to sing.

Calum looked back at you, standing next to Matt and leaning your head on his shoulder as your hands laced together. You looked briefly at your boyfriend and smiled, looking as happy as ever.

“Happy birthday dear Michael…”

And then it happened. For just one moment you looked back at Calum when he was already looking at you and his heart stopped.

You gave him a small, sad smile and shook your head no.

“Happy birthday to you!”

And all his hopes went away with the blow of the candles. * * tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @hoodharlow @littledrummeraussie @bubblegum183 @irwin-fletcher-ash @wiiildflowerrr @in-a-world-of-fandoms @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @in-superbloom @sadcupofcoffee @personalmuyverypersonal @himbohood @sofiaaraee @irwindoll @weasleytwinscumslut @fairytrice @colourfulcal @nibin0912 @hfkait @savagejane1 @youneedtocalumdown @heyitskelseaj @ashtonsunflower @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @alltimesos @wontlastimokwiththat @whywontyoulovemecami @theimpossiblehologramtree @perriexed @abiancajg @rewmuslupin @icelily13 @bookthingz @gracieboogirl @fastandtheformula1 @fckingpernico @multistann @averageantichrist @a-darneddarling @plaidshirtyears @ihavenoideawhattodowithyou @bittersweetb4by @aria-grace-scott @thestarsandtheircoffee @bvbygxrl @luisa180206 @xxxlaura @iamdayanaz @flyingburrito123 @drugerlime

270 notes · View notes

lovesosweeet · 11 months

Text

masterlist

hi most of these are quite old so read with caution. :’) making this mobi friendly <3 everything marked with 🪩 is relatively recent!

i’m always open to requests!

everything is rated pg-13 — no smut, but there are mentions of alcohol, weed, etc. anything else will be noted on each individual work.

calum fanfic

better left unsaid - where orion has leukemia, and calum doesn't know. cal x fem!oc. ongoing. 🪩

know it all x the band camino songfic - 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 - cal is hung up on tillie. tillie doesn’t give a shit about anything. cal x fem!oc. complete. 🪩

may the best man win - competing for the best toast at their best friends' wedding, calum and tanner go from being pretend rivals to… something like friends. maybe a little more? may the best man win. cal x fem!oc complete 🪩

imagines

insecure humility - cal doesn't have confidence in his singing and y/n reminds him of his talent.

lol x the wldlfe song imagine (part 2) - y/n hasn't met her boyfriend's friends, and he hasn't told them about her yet.

childlike wonder - y/n does her makeup and cal watches in awe.

festival - you're an artist performing at your first fest, and someone special congratulates you. requested.

are we good? - y/n and cal had a fight just days before she was supposed to visit him on tour. she goes, uncertain of where they stand. requested. 🪩

ashton imagines

taking care of you when you’re sick requested.

michael imagines

he wakes up to you making him breakfast requested.

#masterlist #5sos fanfic #luke hemmings #calum hood #ashton irwin #michael clifford #fanfiction #5 seconds of summer #5sos #fanfic #5sosfam #imagines #one shot

28 notes · View notes

5sosba · 10 months

Text

Looking for a roleplaying partner!

Hi loveliessssss,

I am looking for a roleplaying partner to do 5sos or 1D preferably. I am used to doing mxm and doubles. However, I am pretty flexible about it.

A bit about me - I am a 21F and have rp’d quite a bit. However, I’ve had quite a break from it and am looking to start it up again. I’m in EST and am pretty available time-wise for the most part.

I am used to doing like mini paragraphs or more, just no one line sentences it possible. I love a bit of angst and love keeping the plot line a bit interesting. I don’t mind what the plot-line is so much, usually love a friends to lovers or enemies to lovers sort of energy. However, I am open to anything.

I do ask for you to be 20+ in age preferably.

If you are interested hit me up or interact with the post and I will come to you! 😊

25 notes · View notes

carryonafi · 2 months

Note

hi my sweet baby angel— been thinkin about fonda!luke a lot recently… was wondering if you could write a little cute/smutty ‘i’m so fuckin proud of you’ blurb that takes place after his ono? do whatever you want with it, i know you’ll do great bby <3

only the brave.

luke hemmings x reader; SMUT!!!🔞

a/n: HELLO finally getting to some requests! starting with one from my dear souperbloom 😋 she’s already gotten a few little snippets but shh we don’t talk about that. ANYWAY here’s only the brave featuring fonda night 1 lukey pookie :3

words: 2.6k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Luke was always in his element when he performed, but it was always surrounded by the others that he shone. Knowing him, you would have never thought he could have done this on his own. Not that you didn’t have the faith, but it was how often he spoke about feeling alone when he wasn’t standing by his best friends.You were currently standing backstage with him, in the dressing room before his first ever solo show with a full house of guests and the next night hopefully bound to be a wonderful repeat due to the unexpected high demand of the first night.

“How do you feel?” You said softly, the room silent other than the outside noises of the crew moving around the pre-show playlist in the background.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Luke sighed, tipping his head back against the door, he did look sort of pale, but he usually seemed that way.

The look on his face softened a bit once you reached out to take his hands.

“You’ll be okay… do your vocal warmups. That helps doesn’t it?” A weak suggestion, but it was a thoughtful attempt that made Luke crack a smile.

“I dunno.” He admitted, his expression turning back to normal once he really started to think again. You could understand how he felt, knowing him for years and seeing how much stage anxiety he went through even with the others around.

“They’re gonna be watching too, y’know? All you have to do is look up at the balcony.” As much as you tried to make him feel better, you knew that nothing would truly ease him. The thought of looking up to see you and his best friends made him feel a little bit better for the moment, that was until a crew member shouted for call time. Luke’s face dropped again.

“You’re going to be amazing, okay? You always are.” You offered a weak smile, getting one back as Luke leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

He looked like he was about to say something in reply, but instead, he bit his tongue and took the encouragement instead of plaguing it with his doubts. “Thank you.” He said gratefully, leading you out of the dressing room and parting ways once he got to the wings and you left to join the crowd.

The lights went down and the last song on the playlist ended, you took a deep breath suddenly feeling anxious for Luke now as well — but as you said. He was always amazing.

Security walked you up to the balcony, a few stray fans at the back of the general admission floor whispered to themselves and happily waved as you walked by and made your way up to where the others were standing. Michael turned around as he felt your presence join them, giving you a look through the darkness.

“He’s okay?” He asked, seemingly responding to the anxiety taking over your entire expression.

“He should be, just nervous to be up there without you guys.” You gave him the simplest answer possible, knowing how it described the last hour or so of sitting in the dressing room and trying to talk Luke down from walking straight back out to the car… or throwing up. He was very close to both of those scenarios.

—

Just as you told him, all of that encouragement and gentle words to get his hopes up, he played a really good show and seemed to be feeling incredible by the end of it. You left the rest of Luke’s friends just at the end of the last song so you could meet him backstage, and it was the best decision you could’ve made. It was obvious that he needed to see you after that.

He picked up his head once he tossed his last pick into the crowd and headed backstage, a smile gracing his features illuminated by the few and far bright lights in the otherwise dark venue. It was too hard to resist the temptation to smile as well, rushing forward and throwing yourself into his arms.

“See, you did amazing!” You squealed happily against his shoulder, Luke’s heart was racing and you could feel it relax significantly as you stood there and held him for a moment. He breathed out a long sigh of relief, nearly tearing his in-ears out with one hand while the other snaked around your waist to hold you tight. He needed this. He needed nothing more than your arms enveloping his physical worries and making him feel like he just won the Olympics.

“Thank you… Thank you so much.” Luke whispered against your hair, pressing repeated kisses to the side of your head and not stopping even when you tilted your head to look at him. Instead he just went with it, kissing your face until he finally reached your lips. He teased a little, kissing the corner of your mouth which had you giggling and grabbing his cheeks so he couldn’t move. You planted an aggressively loving kiss to his lips, the sensation of his growing smile making it hard to hold it.

“I’m very proud of you, so fuckin’ proud of you, Luke.” You replied in that same tone he used earlier, a wider grin spreading across Luke’s face as he started to walk you backwards towards the dressing room again.

“Don’t think I could’ve done it without you.” He muttered like it was a secret, quickly pecking your lips once more with his hands splayed out on your back so you didn’t walk into anything.

“Bullshit.” You scrunched up your nose, Luke shook his head then turned you around.

“No, no. I definitely couldn’t have.” He played back despite your protest, leading you into the small room and closing the door.

You sat on one side of the small sofa while Luke shed himself of his gear and slipped off his suit jacket which left him in the matching brown vest, your eyes roamed, scanned each little part of his body. His wrists shoulder blades flexing as he tried to rid the exhaustion of performing which was mostly masked by adrenaline. Luke saw you in the mirror, smiling back at you as a simple wave of your hand gestured for him to come closer. He didn’t let a beat go by, he obeyed and slowly approached you.

“Wanna go back home, or sit and decompress for a while?” You asked, placing your legs in his lap and playing with his sweaty curls.

“Mm, decompress. Don’t wanna move.” He hummed, an arm curling under your thighs and pulling you closer to him. Even past the warmth and exertion, he needed to feel you. Your warmth.

The dressing room was quiet, peaceful as Luke came down and basked in his glory of a first solo performance. Usually, there would be some sort of music playing, 3 other guys messing around and celebrating yet another amazing night… but it was just Luke. You and Luke.

“I’m proud of you.” You repeated, catching Luke’s attention away from the loose thread in your outfit. His lips quirked into a crooked smile, the smile that made the high points of his cheeks glow with joy. He thought for a moment before nodding, gently squeezing your thigh.

“I’m proud of me, too.” Luke agreed, the glitter smeared across his eyelids had managed to spread on his face. You reached forward to brush some away, but he took this opportunity to catch your waiting lips in another soft kiss.

Your hand moved slowly on his cheek, fingertips catching the underside of his jaw and keeping him close for just a fleeting second more. Until your lips broke apart, it wasn’t known who did it, but all you knew was that Luke was leaning in for more. His lips were forced against yours again with much more, newfound fervor as his free arm hooked around your middle.

It was nearly silent from there on, just gentle kissing and featherlight touches which spoke more volume than any rough make out session, any bedroom session — the adrenaline pumping through Luke’s veins and the events of the night had him on a high.

“C’mere…” He murmured against your kiss-swollen lips, a pout on his own as he hoisted you into his lap and nearly forced you to straddle him.

“Really?” You teased, letting out a breathy laugh as Luke licked his lips and admired his own hands exploring your body. Slipping into the waistband of your bottoms and watching the goosebumps form on your skin at his warmth.

“We’ve never done this after a show before, please?” He pleaded, looking up at you through mascara coated eyelashes which pushed you to give into him.

“As long as you can make it quick.” You hushed in response, just as Luke’s hands disappeared under your skirt and delicately brushed the soft skin of your inner thighs. He nodded, slowly taking his hands off of you to unbutton those annoying, high waisted slacks that he had really been obsessed with. They were hard to shuffle down with you in his lap, so you decided to help him out by lifting your hips a little.

“Made it easy by wearing that..” Luke gave as an affectionate note, making it clear that the skirt was a good option— a great option.

“Easy access?” You grinned, his pupils dilating at the sight of your underwear slowly slipping down your legs and leaving the underneath to his imagination beneath the skirt, Luke hummed in agreement, his hands returning to spread themselves across your hips and bring you even closer. It was barely possible.

“You’re annoying.” He whispered, his eyes turning soft and desperate as your hips came into contact.

“What? How so?” You gasped, tone full of mirth as you witnessed Luke slowly losing control over being so close to you. Every single time, without fail he was always going to get to that breaking point of desperation and you loved it.

“You jus’ have to look so pretty all the time, it’s annoying — I gotta hold it all in.” Luke replied, moving forward to bury his face in your neck and leave needy, wet kisses on your skin. “Have t’ share you with everyone… they all look at you, baby.” He rambled into your neck, lips and tongue dragging over your skin in a soft haste to get to his favorite parts of you. Luke ended his trail of destruction with one gentle kiss to your chest, right above the center where he rested his curly little head in defeat. Defeat of falling victim to you.

“Don’t have to share me with anyone, silly boy.” You laughed, hands carding through his hair and massaging his dark roots. “I’m all yours.” You said gently, careful of Luke’s fragile mind where he often struggled.

However, you were caught off guard by the switch he took. Luke peeked his head up, pushing up into your hands like he was a puppy desperate for love, but slipped himself inside you in one flawless motion. It left you breathless, Luke beaming with satisfaction as you took him.

“All mine?” He breathed, ring-clad fingers tightening on your hips and indenting the flesh beneath his hands. All that came out of you was a weak sigh of pleasure, coaxing you to sink down further and devour inch by inch. Luke was waiting for an answer, so you nodded and hummed appreciatively which seemed to be more than enough for him. His hips slowly started to move, leaning back against the couch to watch the obscenity before him. Anyone could walk into this dressing room, anyone could see you perched on his lap and know within seconds what was going on under the fluff of your skirt. Just the sounds you were making with each caring and generous roll of his hips had him imagining the scenarios of someone hearing you. It was a low chance, but hell, was it daunting.

“So.. So goddamn proud.” You looked down at Luke, admiring how he had reached and let one button on his vest go to expose more of his chest.

“Uh huh, you’re proud?” He raised his eyebrows, the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing picked up driving you both just a little more crazy for each other.

The simplicity of your nod made Luke smile, knowing that he had taken your words away and left you so focused on the rhythm he had pumping in and out of you. But he was close too, losing control but not nearly as weak as you.

“Luke!” You gasped when his pace changed, he was now focused on chasing his own pleasure once he was secure in the fact that you would be finishing before him. This made it all come crashing down, little pulses and shocks through your nerves, thighs twitching as you clamped down hard and bit your knuckles to keep yourself quiet.

“Hey…” Luke breathed, taking your hand away from your mouth as your orgasm smoothly washed over you. “Don’t hurt my girl.” He gave you a crooked half-smile, his hips stuttering which told that he was there. Right there, letting out that deep groan and leaning forward to press his face against your collarbone as he pumped deep inside you, His curls tickled your neck, slicked with sweat from the activities within the humid dressing room.

It was about two minutes until you each didn’t feel like jello anymore, you felt a smile of post-orgasm bliss creeping up on you which turned into giggles.

“Fuckin’ love you so much.” You sighed dreamily, tangling a hand in Luke’s hair and gently coaxing him to look up at you. The glitter from his eyes was now on your neck, and somehow his nose— you examined his flushed face with care and graced a loving peck to his nose.

“Love you more.” Luke barely managed past his own smile, waiting a few more moments to spare the gentle touches and soft kisses from you. It felt like so long until he could finally get you home… but home was just half an hour away, more of those kisses in a much better environment were waiting for him. “This was a really great reward,” he mumbled, shy like some schoolboy.

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled, mindlessly fixing the buttons of his vest and watching as he returned to picking at some loose thread on your top. Luke nodded, giving you the loving eyes shielded by his impressively long eyelashes. “Imagine what kind of reward you’ll get when you finish a solo tour.”

“I can’t even begin.” Luke grinned back, hoisting you up from the couch once you were all situated and ready to face as many people as you possibly needed to. Hopefully not a lot, if Luke was counting right. Security, staff, driver…

“There’s fans waiting out back, wanna go see them?” You suggested, grasping Luke’s hand as you headed out of the venue and strides hastily through the backstage halls. You knew what Luke’s answer was going to be, the hesitance to go back and show his fans some appreciation would be the nice thing to do. However, tomorrow was another show. They could wait and have some hope for him until the next night.

“Nah, just wanna go home.” He admitted, blinking down at you in the dim light to adjust and focus clearly on your face. You were now also covered in his glitter, and it was truly a sight for him. One that he would be sad to wash off at home, but maybe there was more in it for him if he was extra gentle with your cleanser.

#5sos fanfic #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #michael clifford #5sos smut #5sos x reader #5sos one shot #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings smut

107 notes · View notes

riya-kaur · 10 months

Text

luke robert hemmings.

cw! mentions of puking and feeling unwell

summary: you had been feeling unwell for a couple of days now. with luke being concerned he called the boys and told them he couldn't make it into the studio today so he could take the day to stay beside you and take care of you.

take care.

it was early hours in the morning, the sun hardly up from its slumber.

your hands grabbed your stomach as you woke up with a sharp pain to your abdomen. "fuck" you muttered as you sprinted to the bathroom, still holding your stomach. you knelt down beside the toilet as you bring up the contents of your stomach.

the sourness in your mouth, making you retch from the taste as you hovered over the bowl.

"i'm so sorry, sweet." you feel your boyfriend's hand rest on the small of your back, rubbing your back in an up and down motion.

you open your mouth to speak, but before you know it, you're leaning into the bowl again. you feel luke gather your hair and put it up in a ponytail. "t-thanks" you finally say as he leans your back against his chest.

you feel his arms travel around you waist as he puts his head on your shoulder. "how're you feeling sweet?" he asks, watching you as you nuzzle yourself further into his embrace.

"i hate this, lu" you sniffle as you turn your head into his chest, letting your tears soak into his bare chest. "i'm sorry, my love" he frowns before placing a kiss on your head.

"no, i'm sorry- you have work later on and i woke you up. you should head back to sleep" you sniffle once again as you pull yourself away from your boyfriend. "don't be silly, i wanna take care of you y/n, let me, okay?" he reassures, pulling you back into his embrace.

"ïm gonna go downstairs and get you some medicine and water, then we can try head back to sleep for a few hours, is that okay?" he asks, and you nod.

luke helps lift you up and guides you back into the bedroom, settling you into the bed. "i'll be back in a few minutes, okay?" he informs you and you respond with a nod before pulling the covers over your body.

you hear luke jog downstairs before he makes his way into the kitchen, opening and closing the kitchen cabinets. true to his word, after a few minutes, you hear him walking back up the stairs. this time, he walks in with a tall glass of water and some pills in his hand.

you've got a visitor" Iuke announces, nodding his head to the side. you peek over to luke's side seeing petunia walking over as she wags her tail left to right.

"hey baby girl" you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "go to momma, 'tunia." luke coos at the bulldog before handing you the water and pills. "thank you, lu," you give him a weak smile before placing the pills in your mouth, which you swallowed down with half the glass of water.

you then feel petunia jump onto the end of the bed. waddling her way over to you, you quickly set your glass on your nightstand before directing your attention to the pup.

luke had now made his way around the bed, now on his side of the bed, before slipping under the duvet.

luke cuddles into your side, letting one hand pet the pup in front of you. "if you don't want to sleep, let me know, okay?" he mumbles against your shoulder. "no, sleeping might do me somne good" you mutter as you turn to look at the blonde. luke hums before gently pulling you down, beside him.

"c'mere" he whispers as he lays you right next to him. he wraps his arms around you before placing a kiss on your head. "goodnight sweet" he mumbles against your neck. "goodnight lu"

hours had ticked by, and you hadn't slept a wink. you were tossing and turning in discomfort and pain.

you were settled on your back, staring at the ceiling whilst your hands were busy massaging the pup beside you.

you jumped slightly when you heard luke's alarm fill the room. you hear luke groan as he goes to turn it off. "morning baby" he says in his croaky morning voice. "morning" you say as you fake a smile, trying to hide the pain you're in.

''when did you wake up" he asks, rubbing his eyes open. "i'm not too sure" you lie, your voice hinting with hesitation. "have you been asleep at all?" your boyfriend asks, as he sits up on the bed.

you shake your head to the side, "i'm sorry, i just couldn't, it's hurts lu, too much" you say as your eyes become glossy. "aw baby" he coos as he lifts you up and pulls you into his lap. ''you should have a woke me up" he says as he strokes the locks of your hair that laid on over your shoulder.

"you've got work today. i didn't want to disturb you" you whimper as you hide your face into his chest. "baby, you still should've woken me up," he whispers before placing a kiss on your hair. "sorry lu" you sniffle against his chest.

you stay in luke's embrace for a short amount of time before he excuses himself to answer his phone, which was ringing from an incoming call.

you hear luke walking out of the bedroom before you hear the muffled voices from him and the person on the phone.

you turn your attention to the pup, who laid beside you. you placed kisses on her head and nose before you see luke enter back into the bedroom.

"you okay?" you ask, looking up at the blonde. luke nods before gesturing petunia to move. he sits where she once laid, which was in front of you. he takes your hand in his, "what'd you want for breakfast, love?" he asks as he plays with your fingers. "nothing, 'm not hungry'' you mumble as you lean forward to lean on his chest.

"sweet, you have to eat. i'll make anything you want," Iuke offers. "avocado on toast," you say, looking up at luke. he places a kiss on your nose, "perfect, i'll go make it" he says.

he scoops you up into his arms and begins to make his way downstairs, petunia following behind him.

he sets you on the couch before placing a blanket over you. "i'll go make your breakfast," he smiles, placing a kiss to your head.

you watch as he makes his way to the kitchen, "Iu" you exclaim before letting a string of coughs follow suit. "yes, love?" he asks, shouting from the kitchen.

"don't you have to go to the studio today?" you ask, sniffling. you hear luke walking back to where you laid. "i told the boys i couldn't make it today, told them how you're feeling," he says, hovering over you from behind the couch.

"lu, no, you should go. i'll be fine, honestly, " you say, the sound of your voice coming out quiet and soft. unable to contain it, you let out another string of coughs. "no y/n, i need to be here with you and help you get better," he states.

"i'm sorry, lu" you say letting your head fall back, looking into his eyes. he shakes his head before placing a kiss on your lips upside down. he places his hand around your neck, helping you to keep your balance as your head is tilted back.

you pull away quickly after, "you shouldn't kiss me, we don't wanna risk you getting sick as well" you say, looking back at luke. luke hums, "i don't care, baby" he says before placing a quick peck to your lips again. "Iu" you hummed, shaking your head.

luke simply gives you wink before standing up straight, from leaning over the couch. "i'm gonna head out to get some avocado, okay, will you be okay for ten minutes?" he asks. you nod, "just don't be long, or i'll miss you too much" you say with a pout on your lips. luke giggles, "you won't even notice i'm gone, love"

"i noticed you were gone" you whine as you hear your boyfriend kick his shoes off, beside the front door.

"sorry sweet, the line was so long" he says, walking over to you, with a bag of groceries. "i got you something," he smiles before placing a kiss on your forehead. you watched as he kneeled down in front of you, bringing the hand that was behind his back in front of you, showing off the bouquet of flowers he was holding.

"oh my- lu! thank you baby!" you exclaim, holding the flowers and breathing in their scent. you're welcome, my love,' he giggles. "here, i'll go put them in water, luke says. you pass him the flowers back. "thank you, baby, that was so sweet," you smile. "you're welcome, sweet."

luke heads back into the kitchen, putting the flowers in a vase and setting it on the coffee table. he then turns his attention back to making breakfast for the two of you.

"shit" you muttered as you made your way back into the bathroom, kneeling down beside the toilet, emptying your stomach once again.

minutes had passed, you had assumed that the breakfast was nearly ready as you heard luke fry an egg for his avocado on toast. the smell from frying the egg came across strong, making your stomach turn.

you felt tears roll down your cheek as you felt a burn to your throat.

"fuck, are you okay?" you hear luke exclaim. you nod your head before tucking your knees to your chest, resting your head on your knees.

"i"m so sorry lu" you choke as the tears fall down to your cheeks. "don't apologize, he hums as he wraps his arms around you, swaying you in his arms. "you're gonna be okay y/n" he reassures.

after luke consoled you, the two of you made your way back into the living room, where you both sat and ate your breakfast. you struggled eating at first, but luke encouraged you to at least try and eat.

"okay, what'd you wanna do sweet?" he asks, coming back into the living room from putting the dishes in the kitchen.

"wanna watch the prisoner of azkaban?" you grin, batting your eyelashes. "how can i say no" he smiles.

you put the movie on whilst luke sets himself in between your legs, placing his head on your stomach whilst his arms wrapped around your legs.

"ready?" you ask before clicking play on the movie. the blonde hums as he turns to look at the tv.

it was nearly the end of the movie, and during the movie, your boyfriend couldn't help but notice how highly you speak about a certain character. "he's definitely your favourite character, isn't he?" luke says. "duh" you say playfully, rolling your eyes. "okay, but seriously, lu, can you blame me. i mean, just look at him!" you squeal. luke looks up at you, his head still on your stomach. he plasters a fake frown on his lips whilst making his eyes glossy, "but he doesn't compare to you baby." you giggle as you see the blonde's frown turn into a gleaming smirk.

"i know, i'm definitely better looking than sirius black," he smirks, leaning up to place a kiss on your lips, but you quickly turn your head. "i don't want you to get sick, lu," you inform him. "i won't, and even if i do, i don't mind. i just wanna kiss you, love," he says, knitting his brows together, "please, " he adds.

"c'mere" you say, shaking your head. "thank you sweet" he says, leaning up to place a soft and slow kiss on your lips. he let's his lips linger on yours before he settles his head back onto your stomach, "i love you y/n", he smiles softly, glancing up at you, "i love you lu" you smile back.

"she's gonna pick me!" you exclaim as you take a seat on the floor. you watch luke set your phone up across the room. "no, she's a hundred percent a daddy's girl" luke confirms.

the two of you had decided to try out a tiktok trend to see who petunia would go to. we told her to sit on the opposite side of the room as we sat on the other side of the room.

luke came and sat beside you, leaving plenty of room between the two of you. he had set the ten second timer on tiktok, and once it hit one second left, the two of you called petunia over.

you watch her waddling her way over to the two of you before she stops in the middle, looking between both you and luke.

"come on, baby," you exclaim, "come on, tunia." luke squeals. you watch her look over at luke before she comes running into your arms.

you let her lick your face whilst you exclaimed in excitemnent, "i wanna do it again!" you hear your boyfriend say, "luke she chose me, that means she likes me better." you giggle as you stick your tongue out at the blonde. "please, just one more go?" he asks, "fine" you say, giving in.

you set petunia back into the spot she sat in before, you and luke then sitting back into your seats.

once again, once the timer hit one, you both called her over. she came running up to you before luke called her over. once she set her eyes on luke, she sprinted over to him. "ha" luke exclaims. "now we're even," you smile, standing up to grab your phone, which recorded the video.

you take a seat on the couch, watching the video back. luke had now made his way beside you, snuggling into your side.

''oh my gosh- luke, you cheated!" you exclaimed as you look at the boy, "did not!" he says, lifting his head up from your shoulder. ''what's this?" you say as you showed him a scene from the video.

it was the part where luke had called her over when she stood in front of me, luke had shown her a treat, hence why she went running over to him.

"she likes you better than me" luke frowns. "what can i say, i'm just the best" you giggle. luke hums, "that you are" he says, pulling you in for a kiss.

you let your hands cup his cheeks once he deepened the kiss with his tongue. he hums against your lips as he pulls you on top of him, a smirk growing on his lips as he squeezed your leg.

the two of you were interrupted by the doorbell ringing, "fucking great" luke mumbles against your lips. you giggle as you roll off his laps. luke stands up, making his way to the front door.

"we come bearing gifts!" you hear a familiar voice say from the door, along with a few other muffled voices.

you peek your head up, wanting to see who it was. "hey crys," you hear luke say. "crystal!" you exclaim before you see her running up to you. she hovers over you before giving you a tight hug.

"how are you feeling, babe?" she asks. "wasn't feeling too good this morning, but luke's been great at taking care of me" you say, giving a smile to your boyfriend.

luke hovers over you from behind, placing a kiss on your head. you look behind luke to see michael, ashton, and calum. "hey guys," you smile at the other three, giving them a small hug.

they greeted you back before wishing you a speedy recovery.

the six of you all took seats on the couch, whilst you all caught up.

you, luke, and crystal were on one couch whilst calum, ashton, and michael were on the other couch.

''we bought you some gifts" michael says, handing a basket to you. "you shouldn't have" you express, "but thank you, i appreciate it, guys." you smile before opening the basket.

''my favourite!" you squeal as you take out the packet of party size crispy m&ms out. "i call dibs on half," luke announces, you shake your head at the boy, "nope, these are all mine, baby" you grin.

"but you can definitely help me use up all these," you say as you take out a box full of face masks, lip masks, and under eye masks

"yeah, definitely not, babe,"

a/n: this a repost of the sickfic i did.

also send in your requests, guys! ♡

#luke 5sos #luke hemmings #5sos #5sos imagines #calum hood #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings x reader #michael 5sos #ashton 5sos #luke hemmings one shot #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings icons #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemming imagines #luke hemmings x you

110 notes · View notes

fangirlinsince1998 · 2 years

Text

Rooftop escape

Hi guys. I literally have not written in about 2 years but had this weird as fantasy in the middle of class today (yes blame me and call a girl out) it is PURE FILTH of Ashton. So enjoy. 4.1K

I was dragging my feet towards my favourite rooftop bar. The last week had been upright hell; nothing could describe it better. I had picked a fight with my best friend over something that was so irrelevant (and now far too stubborn to make up) and had been broken up with by my situationship. I know, situationship, but this had been going on for about 7 months, so maybe I was absolutely off better without someone who wouldn’t even claim me as their own.

Not to throw a pity party but that is why my feet were dragging towards the hotel’s luxurious rooftop bar. I deserved it. I deserved to sit just for one night to wallow in my own feelings whilst drinking a pint of my favourite beer and stare over the city.

The elevator chimed as we reached the 17th floor. There was a chill in the air but the October evening was beautiful and autumnal. Not a lot of people were situated on the roof but the waiter greeted me with a friendly smile and showed me to a table in the far corner. I thanked him briefly and sat down, grabbing my book and ordering a nice IPA. I know, who even am I, sitting with a book, in a bar by herself, but I needed this time right now, to not think about anything that was going on, and since it wasn’t busy at the bar I felt less watched and judged. The whole ‘you shouldn’t care what people think’ attitude had gotten on my last nerve, because I do care, I do care what people think of me and I will absolutely feel judged and called out.

The waiter came over with the beer as I flipped a page: “just let me know if you need anything else, I’ll be right over there” he pointed by the entrance to the hotel. I nodded with a smile “thank you very much” as my eyes drifted back to the book. As I was sipping the beer I kept reading over the same sentences again and again without taking in what the words were saying. I sighed and put the book down, stole a few glances around, the bar had gotten a bit more crowded as the darkness was falling. I pulled out my tobacco and started rolling a cigarette as my phone chimed:

I think we need to talk

That was all it said. The sender being the guy that had not even had the guts to ask me out properly. I sighed again and rubbed my eyes.

There is nothing to talk about

I typed out and hit send before I could even overthink it. I deserved better, and I had finally realised that. It did take a breakup and a week of crying but deep down I knew that this was for the better. I rested my head in my hands for a few seconds before grabbing my lighter and lighting my cigarette. The smoke filling my lungs as my phone vibrated again, I rolled my eyes and looked down

I know I made the call, but I regret now, I miss you

Obviously, he misses me, it’s a Friday night at 9pm, it is probably because he doesn’t want to go out or open up tinder to find another person to hook up with. I blew a puff of smoke out as I locked the phone again, not even taking the energy to respond to the message. Who does that. My heart ached at the thought, who just breaks up with someone just like that, and then a week later comes to terms with that that wasn’t what they wanted. Unreal.

“Can I buy you a refill, you look like you need it” a voice chimed in with a small hint of a smile in the tone. I looked up as I took another drag of my cigarette, staring at the not even just handsome, but beautiful man in front of me: “Is it that obvious that I need one?” I chimed back. He chuckled softly brushing his curls out of his face, “is it rude if I say yes?” I smiled at the response, humour, “well kind of but you are also absolutely right”. He stood still watching me for a second as I took another drag of the cigarette, almost finishing it off, “wanna talk about it?” I looked at him, “you know, I normally don’t do myself in spilling my guts to strangers”, my defences where kicking in a little but I was also intrigued by the sheer boldness of the handsome man.

“Well what about spilling your guts to a friend?” he reached his hand out, as if we had meant to be meeting, “Ashton”, I smiled as I took his hand. His hand being almost the double of mine, his fingertips feeling rough against my palm as he slid his hand into mine, “you know, that doesn’t sound too bad” I smiled, “Y/N”. His face broke into a grin as he retreated his hand and turned around, “ill grab you that drink”.

Here we were 3 hours later, had chatted through literally every single topic in the world. He had heard the story about my ex-situation and my best friend, and probably every single scenario that had caused hurt in the last 2 years of my life, whilst he had shared his insecurities about his lifestyle as a musician, being sober and ex-partners. I was on my 4th pint as he rolled up a joint for himself. He held it towards me “want a puff?” I giggled, heat rising to my cheeks, “no I don’t really smoke, it makes me super anxious”, he grinned, “well pick your poison I guess”, I held my glass up, “cheers to that”.

Under the table his legs extended and brushed against mine, a small sigh left my lips as I dwelled on the innocent move. His eyes locked with mine, staring me down, as if he was staring deep into my soul. His leg brushing up against mine again. This time it had to be on purpose. He took a long drag from is joint. I don’t know if it was the few drinks that gave me the courage, but the words left my mouth before I could even stop them: “You do this often?” he raised an eyebrow as he exhaled the smoke in my direction, “what do you mean,” “I mean come to the rooftop bars of hotels, use your rockstar charm to get to know girls, making it seem all innocent,” “You think I have rockstar charm?” I rolled my eyes “that was absolutely not what I needed you to focus on in that question,” he chuckled and hummed, the sound going straight to my brain and core. His foot hooked behind my leg and pulled it closer to him. My breathing stopped for just a split second before he continued:

“No Y/N, I don’t do this often,” he leaned back as he finished his joint, “so what makes this time different,” I held my breath, not wanting to push him too far, “who would I be to pass on a pretty face like yours when you’re sitting here by yourself” my cheeks started to heat up as I kept eye contact with him, “I have a pretty face?” it was his turn to roll his eyes, “that is what you focused on in that sentence,” I leaned in on my elbows closer to him, “yes that is what I will focus on”, he copied my movements and moved in closer to me, his chin resting on his palms, the tension in the air filling with electricity as his other leg hooked behind my other under the table,

“yes baby, you have a fucking pretty face, and you don’t need me to tell you that,” I could feel his eyes going from my eyes to my lips and back up again. His tongue poked out as he licked his lips. My eyes following his every move. “So do you,” I blurted out, “I have a pretty face?” his voice low, I leaned in a little closer and whispered “you don’t even know” from here I could see every freckle on his face and every little frown line he had as he was staring me down. His face inching closer to mine, and for just a second I thought he was going to kiss me there and then. But he pulled back, breaking the connection just a little bit as he cleared his throat, “this is really going to sound like I do this often, but I do have a hotel room in the hotel if you want to relocate, it is getting quite chilly,” a small giggle left my lips, “quite chilly” I murmured, we both knew that was absolute bs but I took it, “yeah babe, that sounds like a plan,” a look of relief washed over his face as he pushed himself away from the table and stood up waiting for me.

I packed my book back into my bag and grabbed my phone heading towards him. His eyes locked with mine, and just for a second the whole world disappeared around us. In that moment, it was only us. A feeling I hadn’t felt in a while, but maybe it was just the alcohol speaking and the fact that the tall handsome man was walking next to me. He glanced down at me as he pressed the elevator button. Few seconds passed and the doors opened smoothly. We got in on opposite sides, as he pressed the button 10.

I couldn’t for the life of me figure out if the tension in the air was awkward or if it was the sexual frustration of two adults not knowing what we were getting ourselves into. I gazed over at him and met his eyes instantly. His eyes locked straight into mine as he had already been staring.

“Fuck it,” he whispered as he crossed the elevator in a big stride and pushed me up against the wall as his lips crashed against mine. For just a split second I was flabbergasted, not too sure what was going on, but it was only that one second it took before my hands grasped at his roots as I opened my mouth to deepen the kiss. He broke away for a moment to catch his breath before leaning back in, this time taking his time. His lips moulded into mine as he sucked onto my bottom left. A soft whine escaped my lips as he pushed he harder into the wall behind me. His body firm and big against mine. I opened my mouth further as his tongue slowly slipped into my mouth, timid and exploring; taking his time as he deepened the kiss. The ding of the elevator got us pushing each other away and taking deep frantic breaths.

He looked at me and started laughing softly, “I’m sorry,” he paused “I just couldn’t help myself,” I looked him dead in the eye as I responded “good,” “good” he said back is he grabbed for my hand and dragged me out the open doors towards one of the room doors.

As soon as the key card opened the door he was on me again. My centre pulsating at the mere thought of this stunning man claiming his mouth on mine. He slammed shut the door as he unbuttoned my jacket I was wearing, throwing it down behind him carelessly and pushing me against the wall. His hands groping for my wrists finally finding them and guiding the above my head, “I know we haven’t talked this through” he whispered in my ear, goosebumps erupting all over my body, “and I need you to tell me if anything is not working for you,” I swallowed “but all I can think about is how badly I need to fuck you,” not sure to even test the waters on what this man was into I just spoke my mind, “I need you to do that, hard and rough, can you do that for me baby,” I moaned back as his lips latched onto my neck.

He paused for just a second which made me think I had said something wrong, or that he wasn’t into rough sex, but then I could physically feel his lips curving up in a smile, “oh look at who is being a good girl, are you sure you can handle that,” I had to squeeze my thighs together as the words good girl reached my ears, “why don’t you see for yourself Ashton, and I’ll show you what a good girl I can be,” as the words left my mouth he moaned out loud. I don’t think I have every heard anything quite as attractive before, but he didn’t even give me time to dwell upon it before his lips were back on mine, his tongue invading my mouth deliciously. I moaned in response, trying to get my hands away from his grasp to touch him.

He shook his head as he released my hands that instantly fell to his jacket and started unzipping it. I dropped to the floor, just as the same time he did. Down on his knees, my hands now in his hair as I looked at him in anticipation. I tucked on the roots as he let out a growl, before dragging his large hands from my ankles, up my thighs and under my skirt. He pulled at the nylon tights I was wearing and tore them down my legs in a swift motion. His breath was fanning over my core, I could feel it even through the layer of my skirt and my cotton thong I was wearing. I closed my eyes briefly, but opened them quickly as his palms spread out over my thighs, the tips of his fingers lingering at the hem of my thong.

“Eyes on me,” he commanded, I gulped, as I my eyes found his again, pupils fully blown as he lifted my skirt and scrunched it in his hands, making our eye contact last. His face leaned in closer as his poked out his tongue and licked a strip from my clothed core to my clit. Even through the fabric of my panties and obscene moan left my lips. His nose nudged my clit as he went in one more time, dampening my underwear even more than it already was. I pulled at his hair, and his hum in response made my knees buckle and my eyes shut.

“Didn’t I say eyes on me,” he spoke harshly, clearly watching my every move, “yes” I breathed out. He pulled his face away from my still clothed core “I thought you were going to be a good girl for me,” I swallowed harshly, “I am,” I breathed out, fully knowing this was not the response he wanted from me.

“I don’t think you are,” he got to his feet swiftly, towering over me pushing me towards the desk, bumping me into it harshly. I let out a gasp, his hands let go of my skirt and travelled up my body, dragging my top off and throwing it on the floor with the other discarded items. His hands cupping my breasts before on travelled up to my mouth, tracing my lips before gently pushing the digits in. I moaned as I took the invitation and sucked his thumb into my mouth with pleasure and for just a second his eyes glazed over as I worked my tongue over his fingers sucking it harshly, imagining what I’d rather have in my mouth instead. His other hand travelling up the valley of my breast towards my neck.

We both knew this was unspoken territory and he was testing the waters, and as my eyes darkened as his big hand wrapped around my neck he smiled, “you are full of surprises” he exhaled as I let go off his finger to let out a strangled breath whilst he put more pressure on my throat. “Look at you,” he whispered as he dragged is finger down my breasts and over my hardened nipples. He spun me around harshly, making me face the mirror behind us “no literally, look at you,”

I made eye contact with myself in the mirror, as his hand around my throat lifted me towards him, his front pressing against my back, as he got closed and slowly bit down on my earlobe. His breath fanning across the side of my face made me moan again, the tension in the air was unbearable. I needed him now. Right now. My eyes took him in behind me, his large frame draped over mine, his hand squeezing my throat harder as for just a second my breath stopped. Every single cell in my body was tingling waiting for his next move.

“You’re looking so fucking pretty for me, all desperate,” he sighed as he rutted against me. I could feel his hard on press against my back side, “are you gonna do something about it, or does a girl have to do everything by herself” I shot back. He pulled me closer to him as his hips started grinding into me harder. “Watch your mouth,” He responded, “or else?” I shot back, “be a good boy for me and fuck me,”.

Even to that he had no come back as his hands left my body for a split second to unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants. His fingers hooked in my thong pulling it to the side. I was watching him through the mirror as he stared down at my heat, probably at this point drenching me so badly it could probably be seen smeared on the insides of my thighs. “What has gotten you this wet baby,” his eyes locked with mine through the mirror, and just as I was about to respond, he dragged his fingers down my slick folds.

I moaned out loud, not being able to stop myself, his eyes never leaving my face, “you.” I breathed out. “You have gotten me this wet, since the moment you sat down at that stupid table”. He chuckled clearly happy with the response. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, sucking the two digits in, he hummed in response, my eyes glued to his every move, “tasting even better than I imagined,”

“You know what, I think I’d feel even better than you’d imagined too,” he tutted, “getting impatient are we now,” his tip slowly dragging through my folds, and just before I could respond he pressed his tip in. My head fell down hanging on my shoulders as I moaned out. I had always been vocal but the noises this man was hearing was far more than I normally let out. I just couldn’t help it, he lit every single part of my body on fire, making me more alert than ever.

“yes just like that baby,” I whispered as I lifted my head back up to look at him, His eyes staring down at were our bodies were connected. He pushed in further, my heat clenching around him harder than ever, burning but in the most delicious way. “Yes you’re taking me so well,” he breathed out, as he also bottomed out. To say I was so wet I was dripping down my thighs was an understatement, making his entrance smooth.

“Look at me while I fuck you” he moaned out as he pulled out and slammed back in. I sighed in relief as he started pounding into me. My boobs moving back and forth harshly before his one hand grabbing me under them pulling me flush against him. “I fucking love this” he moaned as he through the mirror was eyeing my nipple piercing adorning my right breast. Our eyes met in the mirror as his other hand grabbed my hair pulling it harshly to get me closer to him, if even physically possible. I swore under my breath as a stream of profanities and praises “yes Ash, just like that, don’t stop” and obviously feeding into my praises to the fullest he moaned out louder “you feel fucking incredible,” as he sped up, thrusting into me harder.

The vein on the underside of his cock rubbing against my walls so harshly I wasn’t even sure how long I’d last. His hand from my breast apparently read my mind as it snaked its way down my stomach as he toyed with my clot, “yes, cum for me,” he let out a strangled breath, “I can feel you are close,” I moaned at the pure attention he was giving to me, eating it up and for a brief second just thinking, man I really deserved someone like this always, someone who pays attention and makes it happen. But before the stream of thought could continue he head fell against my shoulder has he pounded into me, my knees turning into jelly as he bit down on my neck. I moaned louder, “fuck,” I gasped out as he latched his tongue over his bite mark. His lips afterwards connecting further with my neck, sucking and biting down as his rhythm was slowing down.

“Ashton,” I moaned out, his eyes shotting up meeting mine in the mirror, “I’m so close,” I whispered, and as if he just fully understood “what do you need from me,” he panted in between thrusts. “Your hands,” I whispered as my core was tightening, “what about them baby, tell me where you need them,” even in this moment his teasing didn’t stop.

“Around my neck,” he hummed clearly waiting for me to beg, and I gladly did at this point, “please choke, me, please I need your hands on my throat,” he smiled as he picked up his thrusts going into me harder, his front slapping into my ass hardly clearly chasing his own high.

His hands settled on my neck, as just as he intensified the pressure of them on me, I came. And I came hard, moans and fucks leaving my mouth as he was fucking me through the orgasm. Even as my vision started to clear up again, his hand still squeezing my neck, I reached up behind me, and grabbed his hair, pulling harshly, my lips catching his in an awkward open mouthed kiss just needing him closer, needing to taste him.

His forehead hit mine as our sweaty skin connected, “come on baby, cum for me” I whispered as he pounded into me further. “Be a good boy,” I continued and apparently that was all he needed as well, he pulled out swiftly and spilled his hot cum on my backside as the most delicious moans were leaving his lips.

I stared at him transfixed by his beauty has his eyes were wired shut as he came down from his high. His body collapsing over mine in an instant. His breath fanning against the side of my face as our breathing synchronized of us both coming down from our highs.

He lifted his head to look at me, a grin spreading all over his face as he blew a strand of curly hair away from his forehead, as he pealed himself away from me. I sighed at the loss of his body against mine but was quickly turned around. He was facing me his hands cupping my cheeks, as bent down and planted a slow and steady kiss on my mouth, lingering on the feeling.

“You are fucking incredible, do you know that” I smiled as I kissed him again, opening my mouth and let his tongue explore mine. Not rushing through it this time, taking our time, exploring each other with more care. My heart swelled at the act. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he sighed, sounding almost as sad as I felt about not kissing him anymore. Something in me was aching, “and then let’s go to bed” he continued reading my thoughts once again; as if he felt the sadness of the hook-up being over and separating our ways. I smiled gently as I cupped his face, and kissed him slowly, “that sounds wonderful,”

To be continued…..

#ashton irwin smut #5sos #5sos fanfic #ashton irwin #ashton irwin imagine #one night stand #fan fic #ashton irwin fanfic #smut #smutsmutsmut #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford #im sorry

172 notes · View notes

cass1opi4 · 5 months

Text

about me:

hey, i’m cass! i’ve always adored writing, ever since i could pick up a pen. i’m from britain, and i’m just having fun with words on here. im definitely in lukes lane and mostly write for 5sos.

im neurodivergent, so you’ll have to bare with me if i don’t fully understand your request or something of the sort.

i also love one direction more than words could express. i’m a niall girl all the way, he owns my heart.

please don’t be shy, leave me a request, dm me, anything of the sort. i’m always around if you want something written, or even just need a chat.

I BEG; just ask if you want to be moots, I LOVE MY MOOTS 🙏

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

REQUESTS: open

things i WILL write:

- 5sos

- one direction

- the bmw characters (shawn, eric, jack)

- marvel

- peter parker

- cole walter

- jatp

- to all the boys

- tsitp (jerimiah, conrad, steven)

- maze runner

- tlou

feel free to request things i have not written down, i may know it!

things i will NOT write:

-NSFW

-weird ships

-things i believe i am incapable of accurately portraying in my writing

please feel free to ask me to write something!

(make it clear whether its platonic or romantic, please 🙏)

follow me @cass1opi4 on twt/x

10 notes · View notes

afatallovesong · 2 years

Note

I am absolutely IN LOVE with the way you write. so real, always gets me hooked. BUT the way you write calum? deceased-completely swiped away... cant wait for your next work :3 (maybe some spicy calum action because i LIVE for those? love u!)

I LOVED writing this piece!!! I may be persuaded to write a part 2.

Purely Transactional

A Calum Hood one shot

18+, Smut, NSFW

The one where you fake date

Word Count: 12,700

Picture this; you’re being forced to attend your sisters engagement party, it’s a weekend event a couple towns over. You’ve got a room booked for two, yourself and your boyfriend. Your family can’t wait to meet the man who’s stolen your heart at last. It’s actually the second biggest event in your family history for years. The issue: you don’t have a boyfriend. You haven’t had one since you were 16. You only said you did have a boyfriend because you thought you would have by now. You never saw life going this way at all. Now you either have to fess up to being a single mother of two beautiful little dogs or find a last minute lover to feel less alone. Yay.

You asked everyone you knew. The neighbour, the neighbour’s neighbour. His cousin from out of town, his cousin from out of town’s neighbour. Every single one of your friends and only one of them gave you something or more, someone to work with. “Why don’t you ask Calum?” You’re slouching on his sofa, sinking into the leather as he strums away at his guitar a joint hanging dangerously from his mouth. “I don’t know him.” You say it like it’s obvious, kicking your feet up. “Which is exactly why you should.” You catch his drift, but you don’t want to. It wasn’t as ideal as he thought it was. “I’m gonna get asked questions.” You deadpan. “So, make some notecards.” You tug the joint from his mouth, bringing it to your own. “Yes you may have that.” You flick him. “Rude.” You take a drag before slotting it back gently between his lips, returning to your seat.

“He won’t do it.” Ashton doesn’t respond. “I know he won’t, he doesn’t like me.” He huffs. ‘You hadn’t given him a chance to’ is what he says in his mind. “Has he told you that?” He quit playing, giving you more of his attention. He really did want to help. “Not exactly, no.” He leaned over his guitar, placing the joint down in his hand painted ash tray on the coffee table. The one you made for him for Christmas the year before. The one that he loved and guarded with his life. “Ask him.” You shake your head. “Ask him.” He says again, the guitar now being rested carefully against the table alerting you that he meant business. “No. Way.” You continue. He moves over to you; you slot your legs across his lap, and he leans back into his seat comfortably under the weight of them. “I’m gonna ask him.” You think he’s joking. You hoped he was joking. He wasn’t joking.

“Calum, we don’t know each other that well so I thought you’d be perfect plus you’re kinda the only other single one left, so it had to be you.” There were no lies told. You were the only ones; it might have been the only thing you actually had in common in your little inner circle of friends. You weren’t close but you also weren’t complete strangers. You were a little more than acquaintances, but not really friends. He was your only shot at this, that much you did know. “I resent that.” You roll your eyes, ‘you would,’ you think. You’re running out of options, he was your last chance, you had a week to prepare, this had to be it. You considered throwing in the towel moments before he arrived at your place. Half an hour late. It should have been enough of a sign not to go through with it but then he did arrive. Meaning that somewhere deep down inside him, he was interested. You could work with interested.

“I’ll pay you.” You can’t imagine anything worse; you were desperate sure, not desperate enough to actually pay him but desperate all the same. He seemed reasonable enough though. He had more money than he knew what to do with and he was close with Ashton. Ashton was good people; he’d turn your offer down, you were sure of it. “How much?” He perks up, stroking his chin now his attention was caught. “You weren’t actually supposed to want payment.” You panicked, feet shuffling, hands tapping your thighs relentlessly. He was smirking. “Isn’t that how this is supposed to work?” He steps in close, a couple feet between you, not enough. “Want me to act like an escort? You’re gonna have to pay me like one.” If you hadn’t ever had a conversation with him, you might have found that attractive. He was tall, dark, and handsome. His jawline so picturesque you may have thought about kissing it once or twice. You also liked his eyes, even if he was cold and callous beneath them, only out for himself. But he wasn’t that attractive, and he didn’t intimidate you like he thought he did. Much.

“Like you don’t have more money than my entire family combined.” You dig. This was never going to happen. You don’t know why he even entertained it this far. There wasn’t a single helpful bone in his body, no matter how much you wished there were. “How bad do you need a boyfriend sweetheart?” He shortens the space between you even more. Your chest feels tight, the confidence dripping from his tongue was actually working on you, you were out of your depth. The way he looked at you too. Eyes flicking down to your lips and back, head tilting slightly, almost robotically, like he was sizing you up. Seeing if he could make it work. Make you work for him. You felt a heat on the back of your neck. You felt gross.

“100 bucks if they believe it, 50 if they don’t.” You couldn’t believe you were even saying it. You’d have to make him forget you agreed to any of that. “For how long?” He quipped back. “You’re so greedy. I’m gonna have to make a note of that in our very public lovers spat.” You lace it with venom as well as humour, standing your ground. The corner of his lips begins to curl. He fights it. “How long?” He repeats again, just as steady in tone. “A weekend.” You breathe. “Like Saturday and Sunday.” He asks. “Like Friday to Monday,” you respond just as deadpan. “200.” He takes a dangerous step closer. You don’t flinch. “150 and no black eye.” His brows furrow, forehead creasing in confusion. He kind of reminded you of a neanderthal. Dumb little boy.

“Why would I have a black eye?” You raise your fist. “OKAY PUT YOUR FIST DOWN. Jesus woman, I’ll do it.” He admits defeat. “Perfect. I made some note cards, things about me you may get asked about, read them, memorise them, guard them with your life.” You tug the notes from your back pocket, pushing them into his chest abruptly. He looks down at them quizzically. “What if they ask about me?” You shrug your shoulders. “I’m sure you’re not that complex.” He doesn’t attempt to hide how insulted he is by that.

“When is it?” You point to the cards. “All the information you need is in the notes.” He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again, “how are we-“ you go to open your front door, you’d had the entire conversation in the hallway, not wanting him to go any further into your home than that. “In the notes Calum.” He takes a look down at the cards in his hands, he hated reading other people’s handwriting, made him feel dumb when he couldn’t understand it as well as he’d liked. You joined your letters all curly too which didn’t help. He actually half expected you to dot the I’s with hearts, you seemed like that kind of girl. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed that you hadn’t.

You’re ushering him out the door, waving your hand to make him move faster. He pauses in your doorframe. You were so close. You could just kick him; he’d be off your property in no time. You wouldn’t have to think about him for another week then. You could pack your bags in peace. “You spelt my name wrong.” He points to the card; you’d done it on purpose. “No, I think your parents did.” He frowns. Before he can respond again you give him that much needed shove out the door. “BYE CALUM!” You slam it behind him, leaning your back against it as if that would prevent him from getting back inside and on top of your nerves again. He found the whole ordeal just as unpleasant as you had but he still finds himself on the other side of that door with a smile on his face. He read every single card you wrote for him. You were way more annoying than he thought.

“What part are you guys having trouble understanding?” You ask the table, leaning over, reaching for your cocktail to distract your mouth before you can step your foot in it. You were being tested way harder than you ever anticipated you would. You really never imagined they’d care let alone put you on trial for the crime of getting a boyfriend without their prior knowledge or approval. It’s nice to know how friendly and welcoming they really are when push comes to shove. You’d have to keep that in mind for the real thing, whenever that might be.

You’d laugh the nerves away, but you were afraid you might never stop laughing. You’d just manically laugh until you sank under the table, down into the ground, right to centre of the earth, burning up at the core before passing away painfully. You wished you could laugh. Instead, you just took the longest sip, looking to your left and right as subtly as you could muster under the immense pressure placed upon your shoulders by your sister and her fiancé. Deep breaths, it’ll all be over soon.

“I don’t buy it.” She states matter of factly. “You go from a single dog mom to suddenly in love with the perfect guy.” You open your mouth to speak but you daren't even try, she’s not finished yet. “It’s a little conveniently timed don’t you think?” She waves her hands to illustrate her point in that annoying fashion that only she could. Waving her fresh manicure right in your face, whether accidental or on purpose, still ridiculously annoying and yet another reminder that she had her life together and you didn’t. She turned to her fiancé before glancing towards the rest of the table for back up, all nodding along with her instantly as if she were a puppet master stringing them along. Cowards.

Your gaze remains steady and ice cold, colder than the slushy cocktail in your hands. The only thing that made the weekend worth it were the free bar and the adorable outdoor beer garden. You release the straw after a long sip with an “Ahh.” You try not to enjoy the twitch of your sister’s right eye at the sound. She’d always loathed when people did that. Anyone who made a noise of satisfaction after a drink no matter how delicious or refreshing it may be, was a colossal pain in her ass. You think she just despises other people’s enjoyment. She thinks it’s an unnecessary sound that people tend to use to exaggerate how nice something is as a performance for other people rather than for themselves. She also thinks it’s incredibly unladylike, which gives you a bigger kick to try it out every single time.

“Why would I lie?” You place your drink down harder than you intend to, wincing as the glass clangs on the table so hard you thought it may shatter. “You know I love you sis, but I don’t think I’d go to the length of faking a relationship just because you’re getting engaged.” Which would be such a wonderful sentence to throw out into the universe if that weren’t exactly what you were doing. “I just met the right guy.” You try not to grimace at the cheesiness of it all, that, and the fact you still hadn’t decided if you’d even liked him more than just a piece of eye candy. Because there was no denying that he was attractive, from the start he’d had that going at least. You’d only been admitting it because of the influence of alcohol too. It was just the rest of the package that gave you a headache.

“But he’s-“ You scowl before she continues that sentence, you almost will her to continue. “He’s what?” You push. If anyone were going to come for Calum they had better make it good because that was an area you excelled in and would absolutely love to be a part of even if you did have to defend him right now. You could always use any good material at a later date when left to your own devices though, a pen and paper would be wonderful.

“He’s not your type.” You don’t believe that’s what she planned to say, it came out far too polite to be something she’d actually thought of. “What is my type then?” You probably shouldn’t have asked her this, but your curiosity trumps all reason. She flails her hand around in her lap, trying to think of the correct way to phrase it. You had no doubt your past relationships were displaying in her mind, enough horrendous options for her to choose from right out of a hat.

“Nerds,” she begins to list on her fingers, which is quite alarming because you really didn’t think you had that much of a track record. “Gamer boys,” which basically comes under ‘nerds.’ “Skinny guys,” that was absolutely not exclusive, “Gamer boy nerds.” She throws 3 fingers up. That’s if she was classing ‘boy’ as a type which you assume she was. You had to hand it to her, she wasn’t entirely wrong about your past dating pool, but Calum wasn’t exactly far off that. “Calum just, doesn’t seem much of a nerd.” You’re certain that’s not what she intended to say, and you thought she might stop herself there, but she doesn’t, why would she? “He’s, well I hate to say it,” you bet she doesn’t though, “he’s out of your league.” Ahh, there it is. That’s more like it. She even says it with an apologetic expression to make you consider it for a millisecond. If only he were here. Oh, how he’d love this.

Calum was the lucky one in this scenario, whether it was fake or not, you were a catch. One that no one had ever caught and kept hold of but a catch, nonetheless. Your mom would agree, probably not the best argument but it’s there and it counted. You reached for your drink once again and prayed he returned soon; you were drowning out here and you weren’t even out of the shallows. “Then lucky me.” You sip as aggressively as one can with a shitty paper straw wedged between their teeth. You were so glad the sea turtles were safer at the hands of recycled paper straws, but you so missed being able to drink a cocktail without the added ingredient of paper mache sinking at the bottom of each glass.

“Why are we in luck?” His voice swings in joining the conversation as he walks back over to your table. His hearing was impeccable, you wonder what else had slipped by him on his way over. You’d honestly never felt so relieved to hear his voice either, even if his steps closer bought the smell of cheap cigarettes and your early twenties. You’d have loved him back then. Back in college, your first taste of freedom, the option to date whoever you liked, to experiment a little. You’d have eaten up that bad boy, leather jacket, cigarette smoking musician act he had going for him. Quiet and brooding too, oh yeah, your knickers would have never left the floor. Good thing you grew up since then.

He grabbed his chair, pushing it right next to yours, as close as he could get without sitting directly on top of you and for a second you ponder about why he bothered with his chair at all. His eyes burned into the side of your face, and you plastered a smile wide enough to match his as you leant into him. “What took you so long?” You whispered while maintaining that sickeningly sweet smile that hurt your face to pull. “You miss me that much?” He licked across his bottom lip, and you mentally scold yourself for looking at it. “I’m getting eaten alive out here.” He grinned wider. “Must be because you’re so damn delicious.” Your stomach fluttered. What the fuck?

He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. You felt yourself relax into him, like his lips had sucked all of the tension from your body. You may not like him very much but you sure were glad he was here right now. Even without the facade, it was hard being in environments where you had to face your entire family alone. It’s not that you weren’t close with them, or didn’t love them, it was just difficult standing your own ground sometimes. You needed that extra shield for the invasive questions and high expectations, the anchor to keep you firmly in place, sure of yourself. It was a tough act to balance.

He couldn’t deny that he’d gained some respect for you for how well you’d handled things. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d manage a family dynamic like this alone, even if he were part of it. He was kind of developing a soft spot for you, probably more than you were anyway. Okay, definitely more than you were. He wasn’t sure when it started. He’d had the message exchanges throughout the last week. He had the detailed notes about your life from start to finish to divulge. The 3 hour car journey where you refused to play music, instead forcing him to answer questions about you in preparation for the event. It was somewhere amongst there. Maybe even when you’d shared a room the past two nights without killing each other. In seeing a vulnerable side of you that made you appear a little more human. He’d also seen a larger portion of you without clothing, that certainly helped.

Yes. Perhaps somewhere around there he’d liked you. All he knew now was that in watching your interactions with your family, it made him want to stick to you like glue and support you the best he could for however long you would let him. You had it covered, and you’d tell him that too, afraid of showing any weaknesses, but that’s exactly why he felt like he should support you, he didn’t want you to feel so alone, you didn’t have to be so alone.

He didn’t even have to force himself to kiss your cheek that time, he’d just wanted to rid your face of the frown that threatened to grace it, even if he found it adorable. His issue now was that he had trouble moving away. His lips lingering, breath tickling your cheek, until you coughed under your breath for him to shift away. For a moment he’d wished it weren’t all play pretend. That he could stay there and have it not feel so strange. He couldn’t pin point when his eyes started to soften at the sight of you. All he knew was that they had. It was getting increasingly easier to act enamoured by you, because, well, he might have been.

“So, what did I miss?” He tilts his head towards the rest of the table, it felt like such a difficult task to withdraw his attention from you. You yourself took the opportunity to catch a much needed breath. You also needed to pat your stomach to hold off the swarm of butterflies scrambling around in there. There was this dizzying, uneasiness in the pit of your tummy, like you were fighting the emotions within yourself. Those damn love bugs were wasting their time going crazy for this situation. It wasn’t real, not worth the energy. Surely you didn’t need to be convinced of that, it was clear as day. You didn’t need this unnecessary nausea. “We were just talking about what a wonderful couple you are.” Your brother in law speaks, directing his attention towards the man at your side. You really thought you’d liked that man, he betrayed you. You kept a special scowl just for him. He felt hot under the collar when he felt the intensity of it. Good, you thought. Traitor.

Calum dipped his hand down onto your thigh where he’d noticed your hand was already resting, slipping his fingers between yours, resting atop your knuckles effortlessly for all to see. You’d felt your breath hitching in your throat. The simplicity of the action shouldn’t have caused such a stir, but it was just so easy for him. He was so touchy feely like it was the most natural thing in the world. He loved to touch. It was one of the main reasons that made it so hard to remain sure that this was all an act. Was he like this with everyone? You’d half hoped he wasn’t, even if your other half screamed at you for that naivety. It wasn’t exactly your love language, but you’d wished it were, you wanted to touch him. Too many drinks maybe.

“Why do I feel like that’s sarcasm?” He threw back with nothing but charm, sweet like honey dripping from his tongue. If he weren’t in a band you could certainly picture him as an actor with some of the crap he pulled. Sometimes he even had you believing this whole thing, lines blurring like no other. Especially when nuzzled his nose into your neck eliciting a squeal from your lips. All before deciding to stay there, sitting with his chin resting on your shoulder happily. Like the most casual position in the world.

Your heart pounded against your chest. His arm slunk around your waist. His mouth opened for you, signalling you to bring his cocktail and straw between his lips to take a sip. A ridiculously over the top public display of affection you swore you’d never partake in. Yet for some reason your hands were ignoring every judgment your mind was making, allowing you to feed him his drink like some kind of mother to a parched child. It was interesting to you how fast you’d been able to communicate with him like that without it ever needing to be said or asked for. “You owe me.” You whisper. “Not how this transaction really works.” He says between sips rather impressively. It might even be considered cute if it wasn’t such a threat. Your cheeks burned.

“It just seems so sudden.” Your sister just can’t bite back her tongue for more than two seconds huh. You’re literally sat there with giant, red, beaming heart eyes for each other. So, close your personal space would never be described as such for as long as you shall live, ever again. Literally feeding each other. Squeezing each other’s hands. Hating every second you’re apart. Feeling like you may break without the other. Whispering sweet nothings (more like threats but no one else had spotted that) into each other’s ears. You’re both so over the top, overwhelmingly infatuated (although falsely) with each other you may as well claim this engagement party as your own and YET, no one believed you for a second. Hell, even you thought you might be falling. Thank you vodka.

“When you know, you know.” You say, lifting your hand to pat his cheek after putting his drink back on the table. He squeezes your other hand instinctively. He’d almost forgotten he was holding it in the first place, it felt so nice and soft, like it belonged in his. It could belong there. “What will it take to convince you?” He offers. You squeeze his hand even harder, this time hoping to pump the breaks on this one. As much as you appreciated him sticking up for the relationship. You weren’t up for a quick fire round of questions that you weren’t prepared in the slightest. Especially since he refused to learn the answers to any potential enquiries a day prior. Deeming the impromptu quiz session in the car ‘enough learning for a lifetime.’

“Cal,” is all you warn while you beg him to shut up with your mind instead. “No, no sweetie, we can answer all the questions they have.” He grinned at you so menacingly; you wanted to wipe that smirk right off his adorably smug little face. Woah. When did he become adorable? Scratch that. Shush. You’re so pissed you don’t even fawn over the pet name, much. You may as well pack your bags now and return home though, you were done for, the hoax was over. The end.

“What’s her favourite band?” Okay, we’re actually doing this. “Or singer, if that’s easier.” Ryan, your least favourite brother in law and your only brother in law, fires out. He only knew the answer himself because he tried to impress you one Christmas by buying you a limited edition vinyl. Of all the people at this table, you thought at least he wouldn’t be sceptical of you. Unbelievable.

“There isn’t just one, its multiple, depends what mood she’s in.” You’re intrigued already on where this is going. Your sister jeered at the response, already less than impressed. Calum turns his head, lifting his hand to silence her before she can say anything. You almost pat him on the back for it. “But, if I had to choose.” Which he did. He really did. “Queen, Black Sabbath, The 1975, Taylor Swift, Harry Styles and I’m going to add 5SOS in there because she’s our number one groupie, aint that right babe.” You allow yourself to roll your eyes at the last part, even if you were dating you doubt you’d let him describe you as a groupie, dick.

“That’s easy, they’re pretty generic choices minus sabbath.” You had to give them that one, it wasn’t the most cut throat list of indie artists you could only associate with your taste and yours only. You’d been a bit of a basic music lover your whole life and there was no shame in that. You liked what you liked and that was okay. You were still impressed he knew any of your list though. Maybe he actually had read your notes, lying shit. Definitely not adorable. “Favourite food?” Okay, still going. You lean back, may as well get comfortable since you’re going to be here for a while.

He snorted before answering that one and you wondered what was so insanely funny that could make him move his hand away from your thigh to explain it properly. You missed his touch the second you were without it. Gag. “Bread.” He giggled just saying it, the kind of giggle where the creases beside his eyes really stood out and his cheeks bunched up all precious and pudgy underneath them. You can’t help but smile.

“But not just plain bread right,” he looked to you before continuing as if to say ‘hey, watch this, look at me.’ He thinks he has you down. You indulge him. “So, bread in its many forms,” he lifted his fingers to start listing, “sandwiches, toast, brioche, fried bread, french toast, pizza dough, the list goes on right but at the height of it all,” he really gestured above his head to signify the detailed tier system of bread options. He added a small and useless breather to gain anticipation, it wasn’t working. “Garlic bread.”

You snorted a laugh yourself this time. Not because he was wrong either, because he was 100% correct in fact. You were mortified that, that was your own answer. He locked eyes with you in a way that he hadn’t done before, with genuine affection, maybe even a glimmer of hope that he’d done you justice. He was captivated by you, your cheeks bursting with redness, your smile tight, starting to hurt you in fighting it. You looked so pretty right now. The glow of the lamps out in this beer garden just added to the radiance he already thought you had. He couldn’t believe a girl as pretty as you considered bread your favourite food.

He also found the noise you made to be one of the cutest things he’d ever heard, and he wished he could make you do it again someday. He really didn’t consider himself that funny though. He might have to get some drinks down you for another laugh like that. “I thought your favourite were sour patch kids?” Your sister argued, using her nails again to assist her point. Calum chimed in before you could go to correct her.

“Actually, that was her hyper fixation for a little while, ate every flavour except lemon. Which are my favourite, so it works out pretty well.” Your jaw may as well have hit the floor. He’d only known that from the car ride up here. You were about to throw the packet out before he stopped you, complaining you were wasting money and food since you left all the yellow ones. You were shocked he remembered. If you were impressed by him right now, surely everyone else had to be too, right? Wrong.

“Celebrity crush?” He answered this quicker than you or he would like to admit. You also just didn’t know how he came to the conclusion he did and how he was so correct with it, suspicious. “Joseph Quinn hands down, can’t even knock it, he’s a handsome man.” The next question went swimmingly too. “Favourite hobby?” He gave it a thought for a second, glancing to you and back, “painting, she’ll say she’s no good at it but actually she’s got a gift. I’ve never seen anyone use colour the way she does. Actually, considered using some of your work for album art.” He turned to you towards the end, and you struggled to decipher whether it was bullshit or not. Your heart actually ached at the thought of it being true.

“Favourite movie?” Your brother in law’s turn to ask. You threw your head back in exasperation. “What is this, the Spanish inquisition? Is this really necessary?” You looked to your sister and her future husband. “Yes!” They admitted in unison. Calum’s hand returned to your thigh, patting it softly, his thumb rubbing soothing shapes into your bare skin. It was working. God it was working. He was like ice against your fire, the way he cooled you.

“I’ve got this.” He assured you. “Yeah, you kind of do, that’s why it’s so fucking weird.” You admitted quietly but not enough as to hide it from anyone else, deeming it safe for public consumption. He smirked. “Scared I know too much about you?” You were. You were terrified. This time you do lower your voice. “Just didn’t know you could actually read. Guess my notes were a great help after all.” You stuck your tongue out. For a second he thought about taking it in his mouth, probably some other filthier thoughts floated around his brain too. It was something about the proximity and the cocktails you’d shared, you could always blame those.

“The Harry Potter franchise but her favourite would have to be the second one,” he knows he has it right, but he just can’t think of the name, turning to you momentarily for help, you mouthed “the chamber of secrets” before he nodded and repeated it. He then paused, not for dramatic effect but so he could smile to himself as he thought about why that was your favourite. “It’s the first time we as the audience,” he gestured to his chest, “visit the Weasley house,” ‘the burrow,’ you say in your head, but it was close enough.

“The Weasley’s are the best family in the wizarding world, not up for discussion.” You leant in, your lips close to his ear. “If we were really dating, you’d be getting your dick sucked so hard tonight.” It took every bone in his body not shut the evening down and carry you back to your hotel room with that false promise in mind. He instead tried to ignore the now throbbing sensation in his trousers. Had you always done that to him?

“Ok those are fairly standard.” In what world was his last answer not specifically catered to you? “How about a random trivia round?…” The suggestions just kept going. If this were the only worthy form of entertainment they could find, married life was going to be abysmal. “Or.” He began and this is when you really, really started to panic, like exponentially. There was nothing that could have helped him out now. Your notes only consisted of the likes, dislikes, and the fake scenario in which you first met. There was nothing else. That was the end of the script. He couldn’t be that good at improvisation. You didn’t want the opportunity to find out either. You were no casting director. He no longer had to impress you or anyone else. If they were still at odds with the situation then so be it. You couldn’t please everyone. It really shouldn’t have taken you that long to realise it. Huh. The more you know.

“I can tell you about how she makes me feel.” You really, truly would rather you didn’t know. If it’s the truth, it would hurt. If it was a lie, well that might hurt even more. You begged the universe to keep him quiet. Whatever he had to say was going to blow your cover and throw this whole shit show up in flames. Your sister seemed so keen and intrigued enough to let him continue. You however, said your final goodbyes to any future you had where you weren’t a laughing stock for the entire family. A future where Calum couldn’t reject and discard you publicly. Now it was a very real possibility, you were far more upset than you ever thought you would be. Calum glances at you briefly, bucking up the courage to put on the biggest and most detrimental show of his entire life.

He doesn’t face your sister when the words come tumbling from his mouth. He faced you, addressing you like he needed you to hear this and fuck, maybe he did. You actually felt touched about it until he opened his mouth. “You’re kind of a fucking weirdo.” You went to shut him up as the embarrassment crept in, but he spoke louder as he often did. “You are, you’re a freak- and it’s so, it’s refreshing.” Your mouth closed but oh, so slowly. You began to listen to him, decided to trust him. “You’re fucking nuts.” You rolled your eyes. How many ways were there, to describe you as crazy? Why did he feel the need to use all of them? “But I like it. I do. I feel like I can be myself around you.” He talked with his hands a lot as he scrambled the words. You reached for them, settling them in your lap and he silently thanked you for it. Everything got a whole lot easier when you held his hand.

“You make it feel okay to be a bit crazy. You don’t have to be so straight or basic, you can just, be.” Just as you started to smile, you saw that you weren’t the only one. It was working, his little speech was actually working. “I like who I am around you. Even if sometimes you don’t. I like that you tell me when I piss you off. I like that you act like you hate me when you don’t. I like that you’re so fucking stubborn and headstrong you’d never rely on anyone else and that pisses me off.” You felt tingling racing across your chest. “I love that no moment with you feels forced. That, that smile, right there could make flowers bloom.” He gestured to your face with both of your hands linked together. “That your glare could cause a fucking storm or something.” You tried not to get swept up in the fact he’d stopped saying ‘like.’

“I love that everything feels okay when your hand is in mine, even when you try and say you don’t like holding hands, you’re too good at it to hate it. You know exactly the right moments.” He shook his head with a disbelief. It started to feel so real. “I think I’d miss you even if I’d never met you.” His hand tightened around yours when he said his last sentence. “And I’m glad I met you. I hope one day you’ll be glad you met me too.” The rest of his speech hadn’t mattered when he uttered those words. The words that knocked the breath out of you, leaving you fighting for your life in the seat next to him. You don’t think anyone had ever referred to you so kindly in your life, even if he did call you fucking mental at least 5 times throughout.

He couldn’t even breathe. He’d said it. He’d let it all out and now he just saw the look of shock on your face and couldn’t take a single breath, not knowing how you’d react. It was news to him too though. He could play it off as a lie, say he saw it in a movie, some chick flick or something. He’d copied it because of course he had. But then again, on the off chance you weren’t horrified, he wasn’t sure if he had any more guts left to tell you it was true. He just knew that he needed to do something. He had to fill this painful silence somehow and thankfully, he didn’t have to do it alone.

You kissed him. You scraped your jaw off the floor, and you kissed him. You’d not kissed him like this before. Like your life depended on it. Like he was the very air you needed to breathe. Like he’d meant every word he’d just said, and you’d believed it. God you might have even felt the same. You were also slightly ashamed to say it had your panties soaking between your thighs. Not to mention your heart thundering in your chest.

Calum kissed you as if he were tattooing his words across your lips for eternity. Because for the first time throughout this whole charade, he was actually allowed to mean every word he had said, whether he knew this was how he was feeling at the start of the evening or not. Neither of you could have predicted a confession like this. Even after giving one, he wasn’t quite believing it himself. But fuck, there was freedom in it. There was a lovely form of permanence. Him knowing his words were out there for the universe to take and make with what it will. He felt weightless. It wasn’t the cocktails. Something just clicked in his brain, and he knew it. You were everything.

You melted into each other when his lips found yours. It was sweet and slow but confident, with purpose. Each stroke of his lips against yours carefully considered and carried out like clockwork. You’d felt a rush from this kiss. It was hungrier than any other you’d shared. Quite frankly it was starved. You’d pressed up against him so hard and he’d done just the same to you. His hands coming up to tilt your chin up towards him for more. As if you hadn’t been close enough already. Its only when you gasped at his touch did he slip his tongue into your mouth. You knew he’d had so much practice kissing women like this, but you couldn’t care. You allowed him inside, welcomed the way he licked into your mouth delicately. Blissfully enjoying the taste of his last cigarette on his breath, shocked that it’s not even a put off for you right now.

His words had gotten you drunker than the cocktails you’d been knocking back all evening. You almost whined when he dragged himself away from you. It was way too premature for your liking. Your eyes remained on him and only him as your hands fell back from their place atop his shoulders. You weren’t even sure when they’d gotten there in the first place, just swept away with nothing but him to guide you.

He smiled at you; a smile you know he hadn’t been pretending. You were about to lean back in, sealing that gap between you, before you were reminded of exactly where you were. In public. Very much in public. You sank back into your seat sheepishly, heat rising to your cheeks, burning hot like lava ready to erupt. Calum threw his arm around you, and you seized the opportunity to hide your face in the crook of his neck out of embarrassment. He thought it might be the cutest thing you could possibly have done. He even struggled to wipe the blush off his own cheeks. He felt like a school boy again. “Okay, fine, we believe you.” Your sister threw her hands up in defeat. You’d forgotten what you were even aiming to prove, your head was so flooded with hormones. It remained that way until you were back inside the hotel.

Back in the safety of your room, deep in the darkness, the only light being from the glowing orange streetlights outside, you found yourself nervous for what would come next. You needed a moment to think. “I’m going to take a shower.” You said softly. “Do you mind?” He shook his head, unable to speak. You’d think that after he’d already lay everything down on the table, that he’d find it easier to approach you, but he resorted back to silence. “Go ahead.” He offered. You wanted to ask him to join you. You didn’t. You just thought about it while you locked the bathroom door behind you. When you wiped off your makeup. When you turned the water on and waited for it to heat up before stripping and stepping inside. You thought about it even under the water, arm stretched out to reach you shampoo. You still didn’t.

He’s already tucked away under the sheets, while you’re in there. He thought about falling asleep, willing himself into a trance before you could return, he couldn’t. His mind was swimming with thoughts. He instead insured that the wall of cushions you’d built on night one, was as high as it ever was. There to wedge a distance between you once more. Which is what you wanted, right? It was your main housekeeping rule for sharing a bed.

“Hey." He breathed, as you returned from the bathroom, steam seeping out after you. He was nervous. You ignored it. He lay flat, facing the ceiling, his arms fastened at his sides above the covers. You shouldn’t let your eyes wander but the light had given you a clear path to follow, leading you to the tattooed feather of his collarbone. You wanted to touch it, you’re not sure why. You slipped silently into bed beside him, only you turned your back on him, willing the conversation to end. But you didn’t actually want it to be over.

He rolled over without so much as a creak being made on the old bed. He barely even tugged the cover from you. It’s like a move too sudden would spook you and send you running, it might have, he couldn’t be certain. “Do you think the great wall of prevention might be ready to come down?” He nudged it into your back for emphasis. He didn’t want the night to end. You didn’t either. And yet, your stomach twisted to think of an excuse, a reason for it to stay very much where it was. Only you didn’t find one. “Okay.” You spoke softly. “Okay.” He repeats just as low, just making sure. You hardly felt him moving them. It was so unlike him to be so gentle, so light handed, treading carefully. He was so cautious and calculated, you never thought he had it in him. The cushions were gone. Now what?

“I’m gonna ask you something, you don’t have to say yes, but I really need to ask it so please just hear me out.” There were a million different things he could have asked you; you’d never have enough time to predict it or rehearse the correct answer, you could only breathe as you anticipated it. “Can I hold you?” It felt good to say it, even if his breath was shaky and his heart felt like it might just pack in. He really wanted to touch you. That was before he even saw you there, lay in the warm glow of the light, hair still a little damp, loose over your shoulder, your t-shirt clinging to your body.

The sheets weren’t covering your lower half as well as you’d thought they were, not now the barrier between you was down. Now he could see the lace band of your panties peeking bellow your sleep shorts. He was about to abandon the whole ordeal. Just a peek shouldn’t have been enough to stir him between his legs and maybe it wasn’t, not on its own. But if he’d counted every other occasion tonight where you’d looked too pretty, sounded too sweet, it all added up and he guessed it contributed to the problem.

He started to worry when you didn’t answer him. You obviously weren’t asleep. You were clearly fiddling with the sheets, your fingers tugged at the material anxiously. He’d completely overstepped, he should have expected that. You weren’t together. You wouldn’t ever be together. That was all this entire weekend was supposed to be after all. Just an opportunity to fake it. How could he be so stupid? “Come here.” He looks down to see you half turned back to him, the duvet lifted, giving him even more of a view of your shorts, but he tried not to look at you too much. To just see the invitation, which was what mattered the most.

He wasn’t sure how to approach, you couldn’t help him either. You would spoon, that was a given, you hadn’t budged your position, left him no choice but to mould his body around yours. He shuffled closer, awkwardly trying to stretch his right arm underneath your pillow without lifting your head, hurting your neck. He curled around your back, leaving inches between you, like he couldn’t quite make himself grow any closer. His left arm rested on his own hip, too afraid to reach out and touch yours. He’d asked to hold you. Why can’t he hold you?

You took matters into your own hands. You blindly reached behind you, hands finding his. Your one superpower. You interlock your fingers with his and bring his arm around your waist, the heat of his body coming with it. You could probably feel his heart pounding chest now he allowed it to press against your back. You definitely felt the goosebumps climbing his arms when you pressed a feather light kiss to his knuckle. His heart leapt in his chest.

“What was that for?” He lifted his head, you don’t know it, but he can see enough of your face from this angle to catch the blush on your cheeks and the smile that crept onto it. He’s reassured by it. “Just felt like it.” You shrugged. Only he doesn’t buy it, but he won’t push his luck. His head hit the pillow, only this time, he’s closer to you. His nose is nearly buried in your apple scented locks. You were so sweet smelling at all times, but that apple was just so incredibly you. He knew you’d only used the stuff because it came in a green bottle too. Because only you would map your product selection on the colour alone. It was one of the first facts in your note cards, that your favourite colour was green.

Fuck. He thinks. He really fucking liked you. He wouldn’t even curse himself for it. You weren’t what he expected, and he liked that. He liked that this didn’t go to plan. He liked that he couldn’t pretend any longer. He was grinning to himself, chuckling even. He boldly buried his head in the crook of your neck like he’d done a couple of times that night but more invasively now there wasn’t much space between you.

“What’s so funny?” You shook his hand in yours. “Hmm?” You fought a laugh yourself; his laughter was infectious; it was just stupid and cute. “Ash was right.” He said. You turned your head back slightly, unable to see anything really, before giving up and leaning into the pillow again. “Bout what?” He leaned his head on your shoulder, lips nearing your ear. “Told me this wouldn’t work.” Interesting really, since he ushered you into asking him into this at the start. You’re suitably confused. He’s holding you, giggling in your ear, body warm against yours in this stupidly large bed that he’d made feel tiny, after convincing your family how in love you are, and he said it wasn’t working. That Ash, your biggest influencer, had also predicted it. Well, you’d have said the opposite.

“This isn’t working.” You have a questioning tone. “Didn’t seem like that downstairs.” You were defensive, rightly so. “No, not like that.” He started. Your grip on his hand loosened and he panicked. ‘Just say what you mean, say what you mean,’ he tells himself. “Turn over.” He leant himself up, still firmly on his side. “Why?” He rolled his eyes. “Please turn over.” He pleaded. “Whyy?” You say again. “Fuck, would you just-“ he shook his hand free from yours, placing it firmly on your hip and he twisted you, so you were flat on your back, facing up at him with surprise. He didn’t expect that to work as well as it did.

“You’re so fucking annoying.” He huffed. “Thanks.” Your arms crossed over your stomach, you tried to avoid his gaze, but he manoeuvred himself so that he was directly above you. He decided you couldn’t be trusted to keep you gaze anywhere but on him. You had to give him a shot. Your expression had softened at the sight of him. Just like he’d hoped. His stupid round cheeks. The dumb smile. Why was he always smiling?

“I wanna kiss you.” He said. You thought he was childish. “Is holding not enough?” He shook his head. “Never enough.” He leaned in close, but he doesn’t kiss you, not yet. His forehead just pressed against yours, his lips hovered, breath tickling your own mouth. “Can I?” He begged for it. “Yes.” You breathed. He does. His lips brush yours and it’s just as nice as every other kiss he’d given you. You’re not sure why you expected it to be different all of a sudden. You just had the idea that maybe it would be. Now that you, well now that you actually liked it.

But it wasn’t different, it was exactly the same. “Calum.” You whined. “Yeah?” He was upset that you’d interrupted such a crucial moment. “It doesn’t feel like I thought it would.” Your fingers stroked over his cheek; he arched a brow to question you. “We have kissed before; you remember that right?” He teased. You couldn’t have been that drunk. “Yes. Shut up. That’s not what I meant.” He’s still not on the same page although relieved somewhat that you were in fact sober like he thought.

In his mind that kiss was perfect, electrifying, mind blowing, the best kiss yet, you’d have known it too if you didn’t stop him so quickly. “What’s it feel like?” He tried to understand. You thought for a moment. What did it feel like? Warm, soft, sweet, he was one of the sweetest tastes. Where most men would taste of mint, Calum didn’t. He tasted like cigarettes and the kiwi and strawberry gum he chewed to mask the scent of them on his breath. It didn’t work completely, it more meshed together into its own unique flavour.

It felt nice. “Feels normal.” You said it like it was a bad thing and he can’t understand why. “What’s so wrong with that?” You tried to shake your head. Shake some sense into yourself. You were blowing it. “Kiss me again.” You didn’t have to ask him twice. He pushed his lips against yours, harder than the first time, much harder. Barely leaving a gap between you. Suffocating you with his kiss. He feels like this time he has to try harder; he needed to give you his all. There had to be more.

His lips glided over yours, his lips rough but still careful. His tongue poking out slowly, licking gently over your bottom lip. You part it instinctively and the second his tongue slithered across your teeth, you finally felt it. You don’t know why it took you till the second try. You’re so grateful you felt it at all, but you were panicking for a second, thinking you’d made this huge mistake because how could you let yourself fall for him after all this nonsense? Then you felt it, that spark kicking you to life. That fire in your belly, burning you up inside, begging for his coolness to dampen it down. You fucking needed him.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails tucking into them just a little. He’s feeling the heat radiating from you, your energy pouring into him. He’s smiling against your mouth as your tongue meets his briefly. He just knows that this time, he’s got you. “You had me worried there for a second.” He panted, not wanting to pull away but needing to say something. You kissed him over and over, distracting him. Now you’d started, you couldn’t stop. “I know, I’m so cruel.” He smirked, kissing you back just as vigorously, hand coming to your throat, resting gently on it before tilting your chin up towards him.

You captured his eyes, so dark, nearing black in the dim light. If it weren’t for the golden flecks you’d be convinced they really were that dark. “Had to be sure.” He pecked your lips. “Yeah?” You did the same. “Yeah.” He’s so close that every time his eyes closed and reopened, you felt his lashes fanning your cheeks. “And now?” He asked so hopefully, heart on the line as he waited on your answer. You wanted to make him wait, torture him a little, not tonight, tonight you were kind enough to put him out of his misery. “Now I want you.” You said. He could have punched the air with excitement.

You’re kissing again. Scrambling around, his body lowered on top of you, one hand resting on your cheek, the other grazing your hip bone. His body shuddered when you whimpered under the weight of him. You let your legs widen as he slipped between them, all before he lifted your thigh, depositing it safely around his waist. You prayed that he didn’t immediately feel the dampness in your shorts but you’re not the only one struggling.

His hard on rubbed into you, your lips parting with surprise. “Fuck.” He muttered, momentarily halting your make out session, the heat between your thighs overwhelming him. You sensed his embarrassment, his cheeks burning with it. “Me too.” You breathed. Lips pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose as your hand slipped between you, coming down to cup his bulge boldly through his shorts.

The groan he released is sinful, maybe even painful. He felt big. He felt impossibly big. He wouldn’t fit in your hand, maybe not even in the two of them. He thrust into your hand when he felt you touch him. It was his first instinct; he couldn’t fight it. “Shit, sorry.” You caught his lips, tugging his bottom one between your teeth, releasing it slowly. “Gonna move my hand, want you to do it again.” If he thought he was embarrassed at his neediness before, it was about to get a whole lot more mortifying.

Your hand moved away, he was grinding his hips down into you as you’d asked, and you felt the way his cock jumped into action. “Baby.” You panted. He’s sure his heart is going to explode, maybe his cock too, probably that first. “Say it again.” He needed it. “Baby.” You kissed him. He’s rocking his hips into you, you started rotating your own, rubbing yourself over his cock, hand moving out of the way. “Baby, baby, fuck.” He’s covered your lips with his, nose mashed up against you, you can’t breathe, you don’t even want to, you wouldn’t miss the feeling. All of this felt so much more important. “Feel so good.” You whine. He never would have thought you’d be so vocal. You didn’t seem like the type. Thought you’d be a bit of a brat maybe but not this, not confident and sexy and so sure of what you wanted. He could love that; he could love you.

“More, need more.” You’re eyes rolled back when he’s lifting your hips with both hands, pulling your core over him. His cock slipping through your folds through too many barriers of clothing. “Shit Cal.” You felt the sensation of fire burning into you, setting you alight. You’re dizzy and hot and you just felt so good against him. The friction of his shorts might have been frustrating, but it was also, so rewarding. It was such a good roughness against your clothed mound. “Are you?” He can’t even say it, too busy dragging you over his cock. “I’m, fuck, Calum.” He doesn’t stop, not for a second, not for a beat. He makes you ride it out. He’s so stupidly proud of himself. He’d barely touched you and you’d come undone. You’d actually fucking came. “Fucking unreal for me.” He slowed himself down before he followed a similar path to destruction.

He’s pushing your hips back down, letting your body sink into the mattress, pulling away from you to catch a breath. “I can’t believe that.” Your hand floats through your hair combing it back. He’s resting back on his knees, still between your legs. “You’re so fucking hot.” His eyes don’t look anywhere but your face. Your shirt is half way up your chest, bare tits poking out for him to see and yet, he doesn’t look.

You can’t say you share the same sentiment. Your eyes raced to the outline of his erection in them grey basketball shorts. You drank in the sight before you and your teeth clamped down into your lower lip. He reached down to squeeze your thigh. “My eyes are up here.” He gestured with his index and middle finger. You smirked up at him. “Kind of wish they weren’t.” You didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah?” You nodded. Eyes falling back to his very, large problem that he now palmed through his clothing. Shit, even his own hand wouldn’t cover him.

“Gonna keep looking or do you feel like helping?” His voice was awfully steady for someone ready to come apart at the mere thought of your touch. “You want me to?” You’re not sure what you’re asking. “Need you to.” He said. You sat yourself up. “Gonna take this shirt off me first?” You looked up at him, eyes wider than he’d ever seen, somehow so innocent even though you were anything but. “Of course, I am.” His hands didn’t waste any time lifting the material off over your head. You felt the bite of a chill rush over you, your nipples hardening, perking up with it. “So, very, sexy.” He can’t believe his luck. You’re amazed that you don’t feel shy, being so exposed to him. Guess that was good, it felt natural, you felt safe.

“Gonna help you.” You warned, hands slipping down into his shorts. You gasped at the immediate contact with his bare skin. “No underwear.” He smirked down at you. “Fucking slut.” Your hand cupped him just like before, yeah, definitely needs more than one hand. “You love it.” He chanted “I do.” You confirmed, squeezing him hard. The rush of air that left his mouth, oh it made this all so worth it. You tried to be bolder, you took his length in your palm for the first time. You gripped him tight and moaned in unison. He moaned at the feeling of finding home in your soft touch. You moaned; at the way your hand can’t even wrap around him fully. He’s too thick, too girthy, there wasn’t enough of you to take it all.

“Do something.” He urged, forehead leaning on yours for stability more than anything else. “Ah right, that’s what I was doing.” You play as you sprang to action, your hand lifting to the throbbing head of his cock, letting the trickles of beaded cum roll into your palm before you can cover him in it using it whilst you twist your hand up and down his length. “Ohh, fuck.” It came out gravelly. He’d never thought much of hand jobs, said no to many throughout his life, never being worth the time, never feeling as good as his own hand. This though. You. Your hand. You touched him and he swore your hand was made to hold his cock. Even if that sounded ridiculous, there had to be some way of it being true because he felt so good. His cock was slick and hot, it glided through your grip with ease and your tightened fist on him, it was incredible.

You knew to tug him hard at the base, to loosen around his tip. To constantly use his pooling arousal to your advantage. You worked his cock better than anyone else could, maybe even better than him. You weren’t rushing, you didn’t wank him hard begging for it all to be over, getting bored of the feeling. No, you just touched him. Switching your pace. Listening to his hot little sounds. Paying attention to what made him twitch, what made him rut his hips into your palm. You loved touching him, you wanted to touch him forever, every which way you could.

He started fucking your hand. He’s not sure he can stop himself and you’re so turned on by it you actually moan. “What are you doing to me?“ He’d never felt like this before. You’d made him so weak. He was desperately thrusting into your fist like a pathetic little virgin, and you were moaning. He had to be making this up, you weren’t real, none of this could have been real. “Fuck Cal.” You’re soaked at the idea of it all, you even clenched down on fucking nothing, the thought of him inside you instead of just the palm of your hand, it’s too much to bear. “Need to fuck me.” You quicken your pace, your hand tugging at him desperately. “Fuck, fuck. Stop, you gotta stop.” He doesn’t want you to, God knows he doesn’t, but if you don’t, he’s gonna fucking bust all over your perfect little hand.

He forced your hand out of his shorts and you have the audacity to pout up at him when he does. “You’re something fucking else.” He pushed you back, your head drops happily onto your pillow. “Something good I hope.” You toyed with him, and he is about to lose it. “Take these off.” He tugged at your own shorts, and you didn’t budge. “Off.” He commands, climbing off the bed, feet hitting the cold wooden floor of the hotel room.

You shifted behind him, pulling your shorts and panties down your thighs, tossing the material to the general vicinity of you shirt. Your hands are once again in your hair, combing through it with nerves just eating away at you. You ached for him. Your thighs were squeezed so tightly shut you thought he might never pry them open again. You were on edge, literally dying there waiting. He’d dropped his shorts; they’d hit the ground quietly. He stepped out of them quickly, hand lifting to touch himself, he let out a quiet hiss when he did. He was so turned on, cock so tight and hot in his hand, he’d bury himself in you and never wish to leave.

He climbed back onto the bed, settling on his knees like he had before. His hand rolled delicately across his tip, soaking himself still, using his own arousal to ready himself for you. His cock had a wet sheen in the light. You thought it looked even more delicious now with a coating like that. Perhaps your legs would part after all. “You sure?” He thinks he knows your answer, but he’d hate himself if he didn’t check. This had all been so perfect, better than he could have ever imagined because God, his imagination wasn’t half as creative enough to make you up. You were far better than anyone he’d ever known. The more he knew you, the better you got. Each and every layer, prettier or wittier or more perfect. You must have been real. Real and a gift made just for him because you had him hook line and sinker. He was dumb to credit himself for thinking he imagined you a few moments ago.

“Fuck me.” You spoke. He shook his head. Leaning over you, tip throbbing hard when it breached your walls for the first time before making a heady retreat, running through your slick, wet, lips instead. “Can’t.” He said. Running his cock up and down, eyes flickering shut, throat drying with his pure fucking thirst for you. “Why not?” You furrowed your brow. He’s right there, all he had to do was enter you. You could just lift your hips and he’d slip his fat cock inside. “Can’t call this fucking, not when you feel this good.” You think you might have passed out when pushed inside of you. “Oh, fuck.” He covered your lips to catch your moan. He didn’t think about the fact he’d be sinking in further, bottoming out, pelvis to pelvis with you when he did.

Your legs wrapped around him so tightly your heels began to dig into his tasty, round backside. You fasten him in place intentionally. You needed to feel him. Needed to feel him in his entirety, pulsing inside you. He bit down on your shoulder till he tasted a metal zing of fresh blood, he’d apologise at a later date. For now, he needed it. You were sopping wet around him, engulfing his cock in a warm, tight sleeve. With each breath you took he slipped a little bit further inside. You felt so full you’d felt him bulging in your stomach, so far inside you it even hurt you.

“I need to move, gotta let me move.” He locked eyes with you before you nodded, loosening your legs, letting him withdraw his hips, pulling right back away from you, tip nearly leaving the crevice of your wetness. Then he pushed back in, all the way, hips against hips and you fucking moaned. You moaned so loud he thought he hurt you, ready to withdraw and panic at that thought. But then you lifted your hips to meet his. You meet his next thrust and then the next, and the next. You don’t let him do a damn thing without your involvement. You needed to be in this together because what’s the fucking point if you can’t give each other your all?

“You’re so wet, soaking me.” You can only sigh, you’re not sorry, he got you so damn good he ought to be proud. “So damn hot. Gonna need to change the fucking sheets.” He rambled on. His hands dig delicious bite marks into your hips. Yours place a similar attack atop his shoulders. “Feel unreal.” You captured his lips in a needy kiss, chest pushing up as your back arched involuntarily. “Very real, so fucking real.” You muttered. As your back arched further, Calum found a place within you, a sensitive spot he angled into unexpectedly. A place you’d only ever touched yourself. You shook, and you clenched down on him, hard.

He’d be an idiot not to notice it. You were clamping down so much he worried he’d lose circulation all together. “You want me dead don’t you?” He slammed his hips down into you. “Won’t be happy till I’m not fit for anyone else, that it?” His chest flattened against yours, his cock reaching that angle even more intrusively than before and you’re about to scream for it.

He’s got so much pressure leaning against it you’re about to crumble and he doesn’t even know it. “Calum.” You panicked, hands snaking into his hair, tugging his brown curls. He couldn’t get any closer to you and yet you needed it, wanted him covering you. “Fuck, you’re, fuck are you cumming?“ He leaned his head back, looking down into your eyes, you have tears brimming in them and he can’t believe it, he was so right. “Please, please don’t stop.” Your voice came out so weak, soft, precious, and broken and he thought you sounded like a needy little princess when you begged for him like that. “Anything, anything for you.” He meant it too.

His hand wrapped around your throat loosely and tenderly as he coaxed your second orgasm from you. Your scream caught in your throat. He kissed you hard, breathing life erratically back into you. The way you tightened around his cock has his eyes roll back into his skull, his teeth biting down hard on your plump, cherry lips. He’s so close to cumming himself, but he will not let himself go until you’ve done it first. He had to make it through. He had to feel the way you came around his dick for the first time. Needed it imbedded in his brain as the religious experience it certainly felt like it would be.

“Calum, Calum,” you’re not even aware you’re yelling his name out there. You just do it. That’s what gets him in the end. Your pretty little voice wrapping around his name, securing the idea that he was in fact the guy who’d made you crumble into a mess in these sheets, twice. It was all him. “Where, fuck, where do you-“ he can’t even say it, can’t get the words out. “In me, need it in me, please baby.”

He did as you asked, his hips pulsing into you, cock sputtering, leaking his hot cum inside you. You felt it all. Deep inside, covering you, damning you. You were claimed from the inside out. There wasn’t a single piece of you that wasn’t marked as his now. You sighed heavily at the thought of it. “So, fucking good.” You muttered. Him filling you was just so erotic to you. He’d felt exactly the same because of course he did, he was made for you. He loved that you’d let him take you like that. It felt heavenly pouring himself into you, coating you in his colours. Pulling out might just be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do.

His body covered yours. He’s no strength to hold himself above you, but no way of pulling away just yet. You’d not minded his weight at all. You’d actually enjoyed it, felt comforted by it. Even if your bodies were sweat soaked and desperately in need of another shower, it felt nothing but perfect lying here a little longer. Your fingers massaged into his scalp, he hummed at the relief of your touch. His breathing slowed down, softly blowing over your chest where his head lay comfortably.

You decided you loved the sound of him breathing. You can’t explain exactly why that is, but it offered you some kind of comforting stimulation that you think you’d listen to happily for hours. The mere existence of him, being enough to soothe you. “So that, uh-“ he licked his bottom lip, wetting the dryness there. “That happened.” You heart leaped and you know he felt it. “Don’t make it weird.” You nearly begged. “I’m not making it weird.” You poked his head. “You’re making it weird.” You accused, poking him again. “Would you stop?”

He lifted his head this time to avoid another attack. Well fuck. If he thought you looked beautiful before, it had nothing on the way you looked now. You were flustered and tired, your eyes wet with tears and probably sweat and yet, gorgeous. “You’re staring.” He hated you. “I can’t stop.” He’s lying. He could, he just never wanted to. “What will people think?” You gasped. “How will we tell them?” He continued, following your train of thought like he’d conjured it himself.

“Well, what do we actually have to tell? You know, to get our story straight.” He knew that was your not-so-subtle way of asking what you were, after all of this, but he doesn’t mind it because he’d also liked to know. As cliché as it was. It really did happen that fast. “Well,” he rubbed your cheek with the back of his hand, watching as your face leaned into his touch. “Your family think we’re in love so, that’s kind of handled.” You laughed. “That you’re way of confessing your love for me?” You dig with a smile. “No.” Yes. But it was way too soon to verbalise that. Sure, you’d known him for a while, but this weekend was the closest you’d ever been. And yeah, he may have felt it in his bones, but he wasn’t crazy enough to admit it to you. Jesus Christ. “So, it’s just, everyone else.” He nodded, then repeated after you. “Everyone else.” Easier said than done.

“What if I uh, slip you another 200?” He rolled his eyes. Only you would ask that. “Oh, because I haven’t whored myself out enough?” You grinned. “Well, if the shoe fits baby.” He nudged your nose with his own. “No but seriously, what would 200 get me?” You tried to deadpan but the smile refused to leave you. “I’m refunding it by the way.” You feigned shock. “My money not good enough for you Hood?” He looked at you with a ‘you really asking me that?’ look on his face. Though technically, you hadn’t actually given the money to him yet. “Only asked for it because I knew it’d piss you off sweetheart.” That hadn’t surprised you at all. “I dragged my ass to the bank for nothing.” He thought he might howl with laughter.

“You got cash out?” There he goes, those chubby fucking cheeks, the crinkling eyes. “You actually withdrew 200 bucks for me?” You wanted the bed to swallow you whole. “I DON’T EXACTLY HAVE YOUR BANK DETAILS CALUM!” You yelled and he laughed harder, nearly rolling off you all together until he remembered he was still very much inside of you. “I’m so fucking dumb.” You face palmed with the embarrassment of it all. “You kinda are.” He agreed. He knew you’d hate his lack of support. “I like em dumb though.” He also knew he deserved the flick you gave him. “We’ll get you to the bank tomorrow, don’t you worry babe.” This time you didn’t flick him. “Not going anywhere tomorrow.” You sighed, arms wrapping around him. His stomach fluttered when you held him like that. “Why, what you got planned?“ He nuzzled his face happily into your breast, his spare hand squishing the other nicely. “Gonna get my fucking money’s worth that’s what.”

932 notes · View notes