#Michael clifford blurb

[ameliora-j]

— fame f❊cker 𐐪𐑂 michael clifford

𐐪𐑂 summary -> the four times you fucked a different member of the same band, and the one time they all found out 𐐪𐑂 A 5 PART SERIES

𐐪𐑂 content -> part one!, alcohol, bar meetcute, reader not rlly having boundaries, tipsy sex, non australian implied reader, tons of pet names (kitten, pretty girl, my love, etc.), unprotected piv, soft dom!mikey, stranger sex, degradation, praise, humiliation, slight feelings of insecurity (mikey), daddy kink, choking, oral (f!receiving), masturbation (m!receiving), slight size kink, creampie, THIS BLOG IS 18+ MDNI

𐐪𐑂 words -> 4.01k

Michael sits inside the dingy city bar, beer bottle in hand. The rest of the band are all strewn about the bar, having their go at girls, dancing and chatting them up—but he sits alone. Michael always was the least approached of the band members. Though, he didn’t mind—he liked being alone. He sits at the corner of the bar, his leather jacket hanging off the chair beside him so no one would attempt to sit with him.

That’s why, when you walk up to the bar and sneak right in between his legs, Michael is shocked. “‘Scuse me” you murmur to the man quietly, setting a hand on his thigh as you fit yourself between him and the bar. “Peach margarita please” you smile at the bartender.

By this point, he senses you’re already nearing drunk, the hand on his thigh being used to stabilize yourself rather than invade his personal bubble. He sets a hand on your hip to aid in your stabilization. His hand is large, warm and igniting a fire in your belly as he squeezes lightly at your hip.

“Sorry hun we’re out of peach flavor. I can do raspberry, strawberry, mango, or watermelon” the bartender smiles apologetically at you. You pout a bit, your shoulders sinking slightly in disappointment.

“Well… Can I get the most non-alcohol tasting drink with alcohol in it?” You ask, causing the girl to laugh a bit.

Michael’s interest is piqued further now, he thinks you’re just about the prettiest thing that’s ever come and forced itself upon his lap—and he’s thanking all his lucky stars you had. “She’ll take a tequila sunrise” he speaks up, smiling at the bartender, then you. “Put it on my tab” he adds.

At this, you turn to the mystery man who’s buying you alcohol—and whose lap you’re practically sat atop of. “If you think this means you’re getting your dick wet tonight, you’re insane… I hope you know” you hum softly.

Michael smirks a bit as he eyes you up and down. “Let me get this straight… You invade my personal space… practically sit on my lap… and then I’m insane for wanting to get my dick wet?” He lets out a genuine belly laugh at this, gazing at you.

Your face heats with embarrassment, finally realizing the position you’re in as you pull back and sit in the seat beside him. “I’m sorry, I hadn’t… Uh…” You stammer, shaking your head nervously.

He smiles at this, gently tipping your chin up. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it” he mutters lowly, kissing the corner of your lips. “To answer your question,” he sips his beer, “no hun, don’t wanna get my dick wet” he shakes his head. “I’d like to chat a bit if that’s alright?” He tries. “If not, you can just take the drink and be on your way.” He nods.

You smile softly as you finally get a good look at him. He’s cute… Sweet. He kinda reminds you of a kitten. “Well… I suppose you did just buy me a drink” you smile softly. “And I could never in good conscience sit on a strange bar man’s lap and not offer him something in return” you joke softly as you make yourself comfortable.

The bartender brings your drink over quickly and you smile, thanking her as she sets it in front of you. “So… What brings you to this skimpy little dive bar?” You ask Michael.

“A beer” he smirks, holding up said drink. “And you?” He reciprocates.

“Apparently a tequila sunrise, Mr. Mystery Man” you giggle softly.

“Mr. Mystery Man?” He raises a brow—questioning, curious. In truth, he’s a bit shocked you don’t know who he is—but simultaneously thankful that he can just be himself. “I like that, Tequila Girl.” He jokes back.

“Tequila Girl is a new one” you hum softly, sipping your drink. “WOW! That is really good” you emphasize as you look over at him.

“Well I’m glad you like it, Tequila Girl” he smiles—soft but prideful as he lifts his glass bottle and tips it towards you. You clink your glass against his botte and smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Mystery Man” you say genuinely.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ°

Mr. Mystery Man—Michael, you had learned to be his name—was an excellent conversationalist. Not only that, he was easy to talk to. Charming, funny, smart—and extremely good looking.

The two of you fell into an easy conversation—about video games, cars, hobbies, music, your dreams, his dreams, you even delved a bit into each other’s backgrounds. The two of you became so absorbed in talking to each other that your drinks were long forgotten—until the bartender was telling you it was last call.

“Would you like to come hang out at my hotel?” Michael asks as you lift your purse onto your shoulder. “It’s been amazing talking to you, and I… Don’t want the night to end yet” he smiles—shy for the first time that evening.

That seals the deal for you—this guy could absolutely not get any cuter. You hum, pretending to think for a second before offering him a cute smile. “Only if you let me borrow more comfortable clothes” you nod, looking down at your short, sparkly sequined black dress and high heels.

“It’s a deal” he smiles back, nodding as he takes your hand. If you weren’t so infatuated with the man’s scent and eyes, you’d have noticed him hiding your face as he leads you out of the parking lot and up to a big black Range Rover. You’d been swooning over Michael all night, but when he opens your door and holds your hand to help you step into the truck, you downright fall in love on the spot.

The drive to his hotel is short, only about 15 minutes from the bar. When he opens your door for you and helps you out, you finally realize that for some reason or other he’s still hiding you in his jacket. You let out tipsy little giggles as you stumble a bit over your stilettos, walking so close to him. “Why am I hiding in here?” You whisper.

“I’ll tell you in the morning… Deal?” He hums softly, rubbing your back as you get into the elevator. “Just keep your head down, pretty girl” he hums, kissing the back of your head as you two step into the elevator.

For the moment you’re thankful your head is down because if you think your face was warming up as he calls you ‘pretty girl,’ then it’s damn near on fire as his lips press to your head. “Okay…” You whisper in a slight daze, your head swimming with lust and attraction. The two of you stand in the elevator for what feels like eternities, and when you step off, you see that you’re on the 60th floor.

“Room 60-304, love. Here we are” he smiles as he unlocks the door with his key card. You hold in a gasp as you step into the room, stilettos clicking against the marble floor.

“It’s beautiful” you whisper, spinning around slowly as you glance at everything. He smiles softly, watching you twirl around the room. “Oo, Krispies!” You exclaim in excitement, rushing over to the mini bar. You reach forward, but pull your hand back a bit, remembering hotels charge for practically everything you touch.

“Go for anything you want, beautiful” he smiles softly, nodding in reassurance. You squeal in excitement, reaching forward once more and grabbing the Rice Krispies Treat. If he had to, Michael would pinpoint this moment in time as the first time he truly fell in love. “I’ll be right back hun, I’m gonna get ya some comfortable clothes.”

You smile softly around the treat in your mouth, nodding as you look at him. He then retreats to the bedroom, and you walk to the couch, making yourself comfortable. Michael was back within ten minutes, now shirtless and wearing a pair of sweatpants. He held a pair of basketball shorts and a large t-shirt in his hands for you, neatly folded as he held the stack out to you. “Thanks Mikey” you smile softly, wiping your Krispies crumbs on your dress as you take the clothes and go change in the bathroom.

He sits on the couch, flipping through for a movie as he waits for you to come back. Michael begins to worry when you take longer than ten minutes, and just as he’s about to go and check on you, you come out—hair wet, face cleaned and refreshed, and body swimming in his clothes. Michael never in his life would have imagined that the sight of a woman wearing comfortable clothes would turn him on this much.

He’s unsure if it’s because it’s his clothes, or if it’s because it’s you in his clothes… Or maybe it’s just you. But no matter, he’s fighting for nearly his life to hide the large boner straining against his sweatpants as he watches you walk over and sit on the couch. “Sorry… I felt sticky and wanted a shower” you explain shyly.

“Don’t apologize” he smiles softly. “Feel better?” He asks, smiling again as you nod. “Here, love” he hums, passing you a water bottle.

“Thanks, Mikey” you smile, taking a sip of your water. “So the accent tells me you’re clearly not from here… What brings you to town?” You ask curiously as you sit criss-cross applesauce and turn to face him.

“Would you believe me if I said vacation?” He asks, humming as he turns to face you.

“Honestly, not really. But mainly cus I live here so it’s so boring to me” you giggle. “How’s your vacation so far?” You smile.

“It’s only day one but I’d say it’s going really good so far” he smiles. “Have you lived here your entire life?” He asks you, causing you two to delve into your backgrounds and a bit of family history. It’s then when you realize you could listen to Michael speak for hours, even if he just spoke in circles.

You don’t even realize you’re not paying attention to him until a smirk begins to play on his lips. “What?” You whisper, blushing as you finally make eye contact with him.

“I asked you a question, pretty girl” he hums softly. “Or… Were you not paying attention?” He taunts.

“I… No I was paying attention” you pout softly. “I was just… thinking” you mumble lamely, biting your lip and racking your brain for what question Michael possibly could have asked you. Going with the safest probability you hum and look up at him. “Yes” you nod.

Michael’s smirk widens, and he snorts a bit over an attempt to bite back a laugh. “Yes?” He asked softly, raising a brow.

“Don’t laugh!” You insist, crossing your arms with a frown. “What’s so wrong about it?” You huff.

“My love…” your face burns in embarrassment at the nickname, forcing back a smile. “I asked you what you like to do for fun,” he hums softly. Your face burns hotter now, realizing you’d been caught not paying attention. Maybe he doesn’t know why you’re not focusing on his words. This thought saves you from your embarrassment untill he proceeds to ask: “What’s got you so distracted, kitten?”

You whine softly at the petname, your hips shifting. “Mikey…” You whisper softly, looking up at him with wide, dazed eyes.

“Oh baby… You want it, don’t you?” He mocks, moving closer to you as he pushes your hair behind your ear. You nod, pouting at him as you reach to touch him. He tuts softly, shaking your head as he holds your wrists. “No my love… tell me what you want” he smirks.

You whine again, frowning at him. “Mikey…” You insist, trying to wriggle free. Michael, however, is having none of it. He raises a brow, doubling down as he stares at you with a fiery gaze. You get lost in the green of his pretty eyes, tugging your lip between your teeth as you whine a bit. “Want you, please…” you whisper.

“Awh honey… Just a few hours ago you were calling me insane for wanting to get my dick wet and now you’re practically begging for it” he mocks, pinching your cheek tauntingly. “You’re so cute” he murmurs, leaning in and kissing up your jaw.

“But you need to be louder” he orders. A gentle one, but assuring you knew that he was in charge, and you’d follow his orders for the night. Not that you had any qualms about that… This beautiful man that you’d met no more than four hours ago could throw you around like a ragdoll and you’d sing praises to his name without him having to ask.

“I want you… Mikey, I need you. Know you can make me feel really really good… Want it pretty please” you look up at him with a cute pout. The innocent look in your eyes has Michael’s cock twitching in his pants, biting his lip and groaning at your pathetically cute whiny voice.

Michael would be lying if he said watching you beg for him didn’t inflate his ego just a bit. There was a ton of guys in that bar tonight, hell the rest of his band was in that bar… but you chose him. You went home with him. He was the man you were about to spread yourself out for, give your body to. The man that you were begging to touch you and make you feel good.

The knowledge of the power he currently holds over you makes his cock even harder in his pants. He groans, giving up on his attempt at keeping composure as he pushes you back against the couch cushions, enveloping your mouth in a deep and passionate kiss. You moan against his mouth, arching your back as his hands run over your body. “Pretty little thing” he mumbles as he pulls your shirt off, immediately kissing across your chest.

Michael’s hands are quick, but skillful as well. His fingers calloused due to the years of guitar playing, and you moan as the rough pads pinch at your already hardening nipples. You whine again, your hips bucking, causing your pulsing pussy to grind against his thigh as he fits himself between your legs. “Michael…” You breathe, moaning quietly.

“You make the prettiest noises baby” he murmurs softly, nipping down your neck. “‘Specially when you’re moaning my name” he mumbles, trailing kisses and hickies down your neck, to your chest. “Do it again” he growls quietly.

You gasp softly, arching your back a bit as you follow his orders, moaning his name once more. This time when you do, you lean up directly into his ear, breathing his name quietly as you tug at his hair. Michael groans at the sound of your voice, wrapping his hand around your neck. “Are you a virgin, pretty girl?” He teases.

“No, Daddy” you breathe softly, flushing in complete embarrassment as the honorific easily slips from your lips, your mind slipping quickly into a submissive haze. “I-I’m sorr-“ Michael stops your sentence almost as soon as it starts, squeezing a bit harder at your neck.

“Don’t apologize… Just keep saying it, Kitten” he smirks, leaning down and swallowing the moan that slips past your lips as he kisses you. He runs his hands down your sides, squeezing at your hips before sneaking a hand beneath your basketball shorts. “Did you leave your panties off?” He smirks, rubbing his thumb over the bare slit of your pussy. “Naughty, naughty girl” he tuts softly, shaking his head.

You whine as the pad of his thumb circles your swollen clit, unable to help the jerk of your hips as you grind against his hand. He sucks in air through his teeth as his middle finger pushes into your slippery hole, grunting as he presses down on your tummy a bit. “That’s a tight little hole, baby… Dunno if my cock’s gonna fit in it.” He mocks.

“No… No can make it fit” you moan louder as he pushes another finger into your cunt. “You can make it fit I need it” you whine loudly, arching your back.

“You’re so adorably pathetic” he laughs, crooking his fingers up to hit your gspot. “Keep making those pretty noises for Daddy ‘n maybe I’ll get you nice ‘n wet with my mouth before I split you open on this big cock.” He chuckles.

“Yes” you moan, nodding. “Yes, please,” you whine, fucking yourself on his fingers. “Oh fuck Daddy, please” you moan, circling your hips on his fingers. “Y’make me feel so good… Stretching me so good” you moan. By this point, your moans have become practically incoherent, stringing any word you could think of together in an attempt to form a sentence as you fuck youreelf on his hand.

Michael can’t take it anymore. Your whines and begs nearly have him busting out of his pants before he’s tearing off your’s. He groans at the sight of your bare cunt, pushing your legs up to your chest before diving in. He moans, spitting on your cunt before licking a bold stripe from your weeping hole up to your pulsing clit. You whine, your hands flying to his hair and pushing his face impossibly closer to your cunt.

His beard drags against your sensitive pussy lips as his mouth envelops your cunt. You’re whining out his name, leaking into his mouth as tears of pleasure leak from the corner of your eyes. You’re nearly sent over the edge as his lips wrap around your fat clit, puckering as he roughly sucks at the sensitive bud, his tongue swirling circles around it.

You whine loudly as you feel his fingers push into your entrance once more, a moan from him sending a shockwave to your cunt and igniting each nerve in your body causing your toes to curl and a loud moan to spill over your kiss-swollen lips. When you look down, you see Michael’s left hand wrapped around his thick cock. The head red and angry, dripping precum down onto the cushions of the couch as his hand strokes over it in quick motions. He’s grunting and groaning into your pussy, getting off on the taste of your and the sound of your moans alone.

Both of your heads are swimming in lust, Michael lost in his head as his ego inflates like a balloon hearing the amount of pleasure he’s causing you. The sound of him eating your cunt is filthy, making you impossibly wetter as you hear Michael’s slurps and grunts as he drinks from your cunt as if it’s a fountain of eternal youth. You tug at his long pink locks, the whiny little ‘Daddy’s spilling from your lips spurring him on as he moves faster. “Oh Daddy… Daddy please ‘m gonna cum” you whine, arching your back as you push his face even closer.

Michael chuckles as he pulls back, causing a perturbed whine to spill from your lips as you pout at him. “Oh baby… As much as I'd love to lick this little pussy until you cum… I wanna feel you squeezing my cock while you cum for me” he growls in your ear as he runs his cock through your slit.

Your hips buck as the head of his leaking cock nudges against your clit. Mikey pulls his lip between his teeth, taking a breath to calm himself as he pushes the head of his cock into your tight cunt. You whine at the stretch, pouting at him with wide eyes as your legs spread. “Please, Daddy…” you gasp.

“Fuck, Kitten” he groans as he slowly pushes his dick into you. “This tight cunt is gonna make me burst…” he grunts. “Gonna fuck this little pussy raw… Fill you up with my cum, pretty girl. Would you like that?” He taunts, moaning as he bottoms out, pressing down on your tummy.

“Yeah” you whimper. “Yeah, I like it a lot. Please” you breathe. Mikey’s awestruck at how quick he’s reduced you to nothing but moans and whines—soft cries of his name spilling from your lips as he fucks you slowly.

“You feel so good baby” he mumbles, his thumb coming to stroke against your clit. “Tightest little pussy I’ve ever had” he groans, pushing your leg up over his shoulder. You whine loudly as he pulls out and thrusts in once more, his cock kissing your gspot as your hips twitch.

“Big” you moan back, arching your back into him as he pulls your nipple between his lips. “Big-biggest… Big” you whine dumbly as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Michael chuckles at how pathetic you sound, squeezing at your throat as his hips pick up the pace, chasing his impending orgasm as he licks, sucks, and bites at your nipples. “Whose pussy is this baby?” He teases, smoothing your hair back as he holds you close to him. “Tell Daddy who you belong to ‘n I’ll let you cum.”

You whine, clenching tightly around him as more arousal spills from your cunt, making your opening more slippery and allowing Michael easier access to fuck you as he pleased. “I know you want to, baby… I feel your little cunt squeezing me… Tryin’ to milk me dry” he groans, his forehead falling to your shoulder as sweat drips off of him. “All you gotta do is tell me who you belong to, Kitten, Daddy’ll let you cum” he cooes mockingly, gently stroking over your clit.

Your voice is stuck in your throat, your jaw dropped in pleasure as you practically fight to breathe. You choke over a loud moan, your nails clawing down his back as you look into his pretty green eyes. Then and only then do you finally find a voice as his cock presses to your gspot. “You” you finally choke out loudly. “It’s yours… Your pussy I… It belongs to you!” You whine. “Oh fuck please let me cum, please!” You beg, your legs shaking as you try to hold off for him.

“Only because you beg so so pretty, Kitten” he smiles softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as you moan. He holds your hip with his hand, keeping you pressed against his chest as he strokes over your clit. “Come on baby… Cum for Daddy ‘n I’ll fill you up” he whispered softly. “Keep your eyes on me baby, don’t close them” he hums, his hips stuttering as you squeeze around him.

You nod dumbly, your forehead pressed against his as you blink slowly. You swallow hard, your jaw dropping as your eyes roll back. “I’m… I’m… Cumming, ‘m cumming” you gasp around whines, your body shaking as you cum around Michael’s cock.

He groans as he feels the way you squeeze him, your cunt becoming impossibly tighter as he ruts into you. A cacophony of whines, moans, cries, and whines spill from your lips—your eyes never once breaking contact with Mikey’s as he fucks you through your orgasm. “Th-thank…” you gasp, your eyes rolling as you feel Mikey’s hips stuttering, his cock twitching against your gspot a few times before he presses his hips to your’s. His pelvis kisses your clit as the head of his cock kisses your cervix, spraying his cum deep into your awaiting womb as he lets out a symphony of moans.

He holds you to his chest as he cums, leaning in to press a passionate kiss to your lips. You let out soft whimpers and whines against his lips as your body twitches against his. He pulls back slowly, smiling lovingly as he smoothes your hair back. “Such a good girl, baby” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your head.

You hum softly as you smile lazily at him. “Thank you, Daddy…” you whisper quietly, looking up at him with glossy eyes.

“You’re so welcome, pretty girl” he smiles, kissing your nose gently as he pulls out slowly. “Now, let’s get you a bath.”

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ

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[ughkat]

keep going | m.g.c

smutty oneshot ❥

michael x fem!reader

smut, petnames, choking

you and michael are getting ready for a night out and he can't keep his hands off you

not proofread

-

I leaned closer into the large bathroom mirror in front of me, squinting as I perfected my eyeliner. I quickly checked the time on my phone, then back to the mirror, making sure I wasn't running behind.

Michael and I had planned for a casual night out. He rummaged through our closet for his clothing for night before placing the chosen articles on the bed. I remained in only my underwear in bra as I got ready, as a precaution to my messy makeup skills. My hair laid loosely curled down my back, un-styled.

I felt the presence of Michael behind me before I saw his cheeky grin in the mirror, eyeing me up and down. He came in closer behind me, wrapping two arms around my waist, his chin on my shoulder.

"Careful." I giggled, his head almost knocking the eye pencil across my face. He buried his face into my neck.

"I'm sorry, you just look so fuckin' good." He mumbled into my skin. His hands softly trailed along my sides, sending a chill through my body. He pressed his lips against my neck, kissing gently. I smiled at his affection, continuing my makeup in the mirror. I tried my best to ignore the touch of Michael behind me, remembering the ticking time, but his fingertips and lips against my skin weakened my care.

Michaels hands slowly came around to my uncovered bottom, groping and squeezing adoringly. He pressed his frontside against me, his hard bulge pressing against my rear. I sighed in pleasure at his touch, placing both hands on the counter.

"Michael, we gotta go soon." I smiled, my half-assed attempt going noticed by Michael.

"I never said stop." He muttered into my skin, referring to me getting ready. I let out a small chuckle, shaking my head before reaching for a lipstick. Michaels hand trailed back around my front, tracing his fingertips on my panty line. I continued to pretend to ignore his actions, intensely focusing on my objective in front of me. Michael let out a chuckle, meeting my gaze in the mirror for a moment before swiftly pulling my underwear to my ankles. I looked down behind me abruptly with a shocked smile, Michael crouched on one knee. He watched me closely as he spread my legs from my ankles, just enough for him to fit in between. I felt the heat between my legs begin to throb as Michael gaze burned into mine.

"Keep going." He spoke softly, motioning with his head to my products on the counter. I narrowed my eyes with a smirk, turning back around to the mirror. My breath shook as I continued my routine, awaiting Michael's next move.

Michael placed himself between my legs, facing the opposing direction of me. I gasped and gripped the counter at the sudden feeling of his warm tongue swiping once against my slit. I pulled back and looked down to reveal Michael's eyes looking back up at me. He smiled into my heat before continuing his tongue up and down my folds, flicking it quickly on my throbbing bud. My hips buckled and ground against Michael's mouth, my fingers grasping tightly onto the counter. He brought up two fingers to my dripping hole, inserting them slowly.

"Fuck." I whimpered, tossing my head back. Michael chuckled into my dripping folds, wrapping his free arm around my thigh and holding my shaking legs steady. He pumped his two fingers steadily, matching the rhythm with his tongue.

Before I had a chance to collect my thoughts, Michael stood up from his position, back to being pressed behind me. He placed a hand under my thigh, propping my leg up on the counter. I watched him behind me in the mirror. Impatiently waiting for him to unbuckle his pants. My standing leg shook as Michael readjusted his grip on my heightened one, lining his throbbing tip to my entrance. He brought his chest in close to my back and placed a hand on the counter beside us. Michael locked eyes with me in the mirror as he slowly slid his pulsating shaft fully inside of me. His mouth dropped into an "O" as I bit my lip, concealing a squeal.

"You look so pretty for me, baby." He cooed deeply into my ear—commenting on my interrupted makeup, beginning to pick up his pace. I let out a loud moan, dropping my head in ecstasy. Michael smugly pounded harder, gripping my thigh tighter

"You take me so good, princess." He looked down to his cock vigorously pumping in and out of me, letting out a growl.

"Fuck, you're so tight around me, baby." He groaned, burying his face into my neck. I watched him in the mirror as his muscles convulsed and flexed at each thrust, and the sweat beading at his shoulders. The way his head rolled back every time I clenched around his throbbing cock.

Michael pulled out abruptly, earning a whine from me. Before I could speak, he lifted me by my hips, turning me around and placing me to sit bare on the counter. I looked up at him through my eyelashes before he pushed me back by my shoulders, placing my head to the mirror, and scooting me by my lower hips to the edge of the counter with his hands. Lining himself back up, he wrapped a hand around my throat, gripping generously. With no warning, Michael began at his previous pace, pounding vigorously in and out of my sensitive hole. My eyes fluttered and rolled to the back of my head as I convulsed around his ramming member.

"You're so pretty when you're taking my cock." He smiled smugly, tilting his head. I looked at him with lazy eyes, holding myself up with my hands. Michael brought a thumb to my throbbing clit, beginning to rub small circles repeatedly. I shook at his touch, my toes curling. I began to convulse and my back arched, signaling my overstimulating climax.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" He cooed, quickening his pace on my clit. "C'mon princess, cum for me." He breathed, his gaze burning into mine. My head rolled to the size lazily, repeatedly convulsing around Michael's still pounding member. I came hard around him as he continued his pace, leaning in closer to me. I shook with overstimulation.

"That's my good girl." He growled. He pounded vigorously, carrying out his own climax.

"Fuck, Y/n." He groaned, placing his forehead against mine as he finished.

We caught our breaths for a moment before I suddenly remembered why I had been getting ready in the first place. I turned to my phone beside me, checking the time. I threw a hand over my face, groaning at the amount of time that had passed. Michael's head perked up before he spoke.

"Oh... Whoops." He muttered sarcastically. I gave him a playful kick, staying optimistic.

"We still have some time. You just have to keep you hands to yourself." I giggled, poking him in the chest. He connected us for a kiss before cheekily replying.

"No promises."

[bartxnhood]

lover of mine | m.g.c

michael clifford x reader

summary: after a long day, you just want to be wrapped in his arms.

warnings: none !

wc: 532

requests open

not proofread

Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

michael opens the door to your shared home, he slips his shoes off and drops his keys on the table next to the door. “babe?” he calls out as he walks through the empty house.

usually, you’re in the kitchen or on the sofa binging a new tv show you found, and inevitably get michael hooked on it as well.

but it was dark and quiet with you nowhere to be seen.

he walks through the house, peeking his head in a few rooms as he heads upstairs. just to see if you were maybe in the bathroom or laundry room, but still no sign of you.

as he opens the bedroom door he is met with your figure curled up underneath the duvet with southy and moose at your feet. he sees how your chest is rising and falling steadily so, he assumes you are asleep.

michael walks to his side of the bed, taking everything out of his pockets and resting them on the bedside table, he gingerly raises the duvet and lets himself under.

“mike?” you hum feeling his side of the bed dip. you hear him shuffling on his side thinking he was getting comfortable.

“i’m home..” he says softly, you hear the rasp in his voice and know he was tired. “mm” you sing finding his body heat and curling up by his side. “missed you” you say into the fabric of his shirt.

he pulls you close to his side, wrapping his arms around your figure. you feel his hand come to your back and he draws shapes, “you okay?” he asks, but you only hum in return and then fall silent for a bit.

“bad day, work was rough. i just..don’t know” you sigh. you weren’t good with your words, you could never explain how you felt so oftentimes you’d just keep everything bottled up. “it’s okay..” michael could feel your frustrations and then tension in the air, he was always a good listener but more importantly he could understand your emotions without you even uttering one word.

“im just so burnt out. needed a break” you add. michael is still rubbing your back, then he presses a kiss in your hair. “we all need a break here and there” he reassures, offering some comfort. “mm” you reply.

for a while the both of you fall quiet, listening teach others and breathing with your eyes closed. you never had to say anything sometimes, just being wrapped in each other's arms was enough.

“how was the studio?” you ask, wanting some insight on his day. “good” he answers, but you hear his tired he sounds. he was probably drifting off. “we finished mixing the album, so it won’t be much longer till it’s completed.” you smile, knowing how hard they had been working on this album and how much it meant.

“had i known that i would’ve made dinner to celebrate” you chuckle quietly. “nah” he replies, “this is enough. just having you in my arms is enough for me..” he adds, then proceeds to squeeze you as you laugh.

“i love you, y/n” he says, kissing you softly. “i love you too, michael.”

[carryonafi]

my poor brain.

calum hood x reader; SMUT!!!

a/n: this one has been cooking for a little while teehee 😋 some more smut (high edition) because apparently that is all i am capable of writing — and plus, we need some more calum on this blog <3 enjoy!!

words: 2.1k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The drug made your head spin, taking one slow, deep breath as colorful specks clouded your peripheral vision. Did it feel euphoric, though. Your eyes hooded, staring up at the popcorn ceiling which spun gradually. It made you dizzy, you had to close your eyes. However, they opened immediately after you thought you heard the sounds of footsteps approaching and a soft laugh came from your boyfriend.

“Don’t think that's yours, sweet pea.” He sat on the edge of the bed, just next to where you were laying with your head half-way on the pillow.

“What’s yours is mine too, now.” You mumble as lovingly as you could manage, a lazy smile followed as your head lulled to the side to look at him. He had more. He was over the rolling tray as you perked up, then slowly began to straighten up on the bed. The change in position made you all muddled again, a wave of warmth rushed over you as you shuffled closer to Calum and wrapped your arms around his middle. Your chin rested on his shoulder to watch what he was doing, but the soft pump of your heartbeat blended with his and echoed in your ears. You could hear his breathing through the haze, everything was just so slow. So slow, and so warm. He brought his free hand up to cup your cheek, pressing the thin paper closed with the tip of his tongue. “That’s my way of saying you’re mine.” Your thought finally finished, nose pressing into his hair as he let go of your face to grasp for the patterned lighter left on the bedside table.

“Mm, you stole that from me too.” He hummed, that was what he had told you at some point during your year of being together. Clothes were shared between the two of you to the point where you didn’t know what belonged to you anymore, but you couldn’t focus on your blatant plagiarism. Now, you could hear the flicker of the lighter, the crackling and hissing of the joint and Calum’s frame expanding as he inhaled. Dizzy again. You had no idea how anyone could make taking a drag like that as attractive as he did, your pupils dilated to accompany the glossy shield as you admired him. The hollowing of his cheeks as he pulled, joint still a flaming orange as he pushed out the blue-tinted smoke ahead of him. His hair had grown into a thick mess of black and blond atop his head, so easy for you to tangle your hands in… but they were too occupied tracing small shapes into his sides. He offered you the burning joint, to which you politely declined by shaking your head.

“Shotgun me.” You said just above a whisper, followed by another dazed smile as you poked your tongue out to wet your lips which felt endlessly dry. Calum breathed out a laugh, shaking his head as he flicked the lighter once more.

“So bold, Y/N.” He teased, you giggled and waited so very patiently for the moment he made your wish come true. Another flick of the lighter, and another, and another… Calum cursed. This made you whine.

“Cal..” You pouted, slowly falling back into a kneeling position, sitting on your heels as Calum got up to search for a lighter that wasn't all burnt and useless.

“I’m comin’ baby, I’m comin’...” He rushed to dig through his coat pockets, letting out a breath of relief as he tossed the old piece of plastic off to his desk and used this new lighter. It felt like hours, such long hours until he was finally standing just in front of you as you stood on your knees at the edge of the bed. Soft navy blue sheets crinkled under your weight, wrapping your arms around his neck to feel the same shift of fabric on his shirt, Calum’s free hand cupped your jaw, rough pad of his thumb rubbing against your bottom lip and making you feel like the most wanted in the world. You could see every little detail, half-lidded eyes, full lips wrapped around the paper, you leaned in just at the right time as he pushed the smoke past your lips. You could only let out a soft hum into his mouth which sounded more like a reaction to pleasure, Calum briefly pulled away to set the joint down onto the ceramic ashtray. Just before he kissed you again, he leaned in close and hovered while brushing his top lip against your bottom one. A sigh of want exited you, a quick, sharp inhale taking its place as Calum forced your lips back together and moved the hand that was on your jaw all the way down to the small of your back to ensure you didn’t fall back. He was bending you down, holding on carefully as you made out and he couldn’t hold your bodies up anymore. You were finally laying down on the bed again after shuffling out from that kneel, ankles hooked around his waist to hold him close.

“Guys are downstairs.” He mumbled between kisses, squeezing his eyes shut as your warmth pressed into his hips.

“So?” You whispered back, now rushing to tangle your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck so he could never get away from you. Calum whispered some nonsense about them expecting the two of you to come down soon, all you did was move those kisses to his cheek, then his soft jaw, then his neck just about as far as you could get without him resisting. You lifted your leg slightly, thigh pressing into where he stirred in his sweatpants.

“So.. they’ll wonder why we’ve been gone so long.” Calum replied, but it didn’t really sound like he was trying to fight back too much. Especially with how breathy he got at the end of his sentence, you knew he just couldn’t say no.

“We can be quick.” You traced your fingertips along the curve of his jaw just as you let your head drop back down into the bed.

“You know I can never just be quick with you.” Calum began to push your (his) top up your body either way, his fingers were so warm against your body that the contrast made you shiver. He was so gentle, so intoxicating that without another word you lifted your arms to bring the shirt over your head and throw it off to the side.

“Y’know..” You mumble, hands immediately finding the hem of his shirt as well before making the same moves Calum had to take your shirt off. Then you trailed off, taking a moment to think as your boyfriend stared back at you with curiosity. “Forgot what I was gonna say.” You giggled, a soft one that turned into a quiet laugh as Calum’s hands trailed over your sensitive, ticklish sides.

“You’re silly.” Was all he could say, leaning in and pressing soft kisses to your stomach despite your body constantly wiggling against him. It was like a battle to get you to stay still… he blew a raspberry into your skin just below your navel.

“Calum!” You gripped the sheets and laughed, but the more you laughed the more those soft waves of euphoria washed over you and made your grip weaker. All to distract you, since you had no idea that your panties had come off in that instant.

Calum’s lips twisted into an amused grin against your skin, pulling away and looking down at you with those sweet chocolate eyes almost completely darkened with desire. His eyes were so beautiful, just so goddamn beautiful. It was like Calum could see your thoughts in the way your expression softened once you got to losing yourself in his deep, hypnotizing irises. He didn’t speak a lot, he never spoke an excessive amount while making love, but he didn’t need to. There was an understanding in you both almost at all times. However, it was nice to hear his voice.

“Y’ready for me, sweet pea?” Calum said in a breath, his eyes roaming every inch of your face, towards your hair fanned out across the blankets, then following the line of your jaw and the fading hickeys he had left just the day before.

“Mmhm..” You nodded with that weak hum, nothing that was going on past your field of vision had registered in your slow moving mind, but hell, it did when you felt him sink inside.

It didn’t even take a second, you were already starting to writhe slightly against the blankets and silently beg for more with quiet, needy huffs of breath and eyes suddenly wider than before. Calum would be smiling at the sight of you if he weren’t so focused on making sure you didn’t hurt yourself with how much you moved.

“Slow down.. s’okay. I’m gettin’ there.” He squeezed your hip to put your wiggling to an end, it all just felt so real— more real than anything has felt in the last hour.

His words soothed you a little bit, though at this point you weren’t sure if the things you thought you were saying actually made it past your lips. It all just moved so slow, so slow and loving.

Calum would mutter these little phrases under his breath, right next to your ear so you could feel each syllable being spoken to you, or to himself. Just sweet things which could turn so vulgar so quick, how beautiful you were to how badly he wanted to pound you into the mattress within a matter of seconds. However, he was just so expressive… you couldn’t get sick of it.

“Cal,” you mutter hoarsely. Watching as his eyes gradually opened and the soft movements of his hips slowed down, but hit so much deeper. You reacted boldly, a hand moving to tangle in his hair again. Those soft ones right on his neck which tended to be smoother than the others. His coconut conditioner really did him wonders.

“Mm?” Calum was taking his time, his hands braced on the backs of your thighs and digging into your flesh, bound to leave bruises.

“I need it faster…” Your voice came out in a slight gasp as Calum spread your legs further and paused his rhythm for a moment, fully inside you. He looked at you expectantly, did you not add that sweet plea at the end like you thought?

“Please.”

“That’s it.” He said so gently, lips wandering over your cheekbones and peppering kisses over your recently sun-kissed skin before settling a place on your lips. You let out a muffled, whimper-like noise once Calum started to move again but faster as you wanted.

That was it, this was the pace that was going to have you seeing galaxies despite how slow and attentive Calum was. If anything, it was all fuel to the fire.

He looked at you with nothing but love, love which shone through the deep, glassy exterior of his eyes which in all honesty made this ten times better. Calum was physically making you weak in the knees and with every second that passed, it got even more intense.

You let out a weak call of his name, and he responded by leaning in and gently kissing your lips.

“Shhh, baby…” He mumbled, mouth never moving off of yours which created a soft vibration of his words on your lips. All you could do was gasp against his lips, it was so slow… so slow but so good. The pace was making you lose it, back arched against the mattress and crinkled sheets when your body finally started to react to your orgasm quickly catching up to you and pleasure crashing down in waves. Maybe that wasn’t the right phrase, it wasn’t very intense… move like soft rushes of electricity which made your legs twitch.

And there was even more to come as you clamped down on his cock, sending that delicious domino effect of your orgasms following one another through the room. Your body was stuck in one place, looking up at Calum and the sweat on his hairline like it was shore meeting the ocean. His perfect skin, being the case.

He sat up and pulled you with him, making you sigh as he held you close and idly stroked the like of where your spine was.

“Told you I can never just be quick.” He muttered right against your hair, peppering kisses down the side of your face as you grinned at the sensation of Calum’s soft lips on your skin.

“Yeah,” You hummed in agreement. There was no doubt what you would be met with downstairs when you finally got back to your friends, in for the teasing and playful comments which would drive you to blush, but Calum just to feel prideful.

[kaleidoscopecth]

In the Night I Dream of You (Two)

MDNI

paring: poly!lashton x reader

summary: a game of truth or dare in a hot tub with your two long time crushes definitely is bound to go somewhere

warnings: lashtonnnn threesome!! oral (m&f receiving), mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it folks, this is a fanfic), cum play, cursing. lmk if i missed anything

word count: 6.2k

a/n: lord this took me ALL DAY, it was surprisingly hard to write LMAO. anyways this is the first threesome i’ve ever written, i tried my best i’m sorry. anyways thank you to my sweet friend for this request and im sorry to my other friend for the lack of mermen… i did try to keep the water theme LMAOOO. anyways, i edited this myself so if you catch any mistakes lmk. as always, SEND IN YOUR REQUESTS!!!

Copyright © 2024 kaleidoscopecth. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

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“We kept up the lie the whole livestream,” Michael snickered, taking an exaggerated swig from his beer. “Told everyone Ash was sick, but really, the idiot was just getting laid.”

“A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” Ashton murmured with a casual shrug, his eyes flickering briefly toward you.

Luke sat next to him, seemingly lost in his own world, not paying much attention to the conversation. He was absently toying with the lip ring that adorned the corner of his perfectly plump mouth, drawing your gaze and making it impossible to look away.

“When it comes to sex, we’ve all got our fair share of stories,” Calum chimed in, rubbing his eye with his knuckle. “Like when Ash and Luke both hooked up with that Hailey girl.”

Luke’s gaze snapped to Calum, his attention fully drawn back into the conversation as a faint crimson blush crept up his cheeks.

“Wait a minute,” you piped up, furrowing your brows as you looked between Ashton and Luke, zeroing in on Luke’s bashful expression and Ashton’s sly smirk. “At the same time?”

“No,” Luke groaned, covering his face with one hand and leaning back dramatically. “Definitely not at the same time.”

“Missed opportunity,” Ashton quipped, his grin widening as he nudged Luke with his elbow. “Gotta cross that off the bucket list at some point.”

Luke let out an exasperated laugh, dragging his hand down his face. “Not a chance, mate.”

“You say that now,” Ashton teased, winking in your direction. “But I’ve got a feeling it wouldn’t take much convincing.”

You had to admit, the two of them made an undeniably captivating sight. You’d known the boys for a few years, first crossing paths at a party thrown by a mutual friend. Back then, they were just getting started—touring with One Direction and living the kind of chaotic, carefree life only rising rockstars could pull off.

From the moment your eyes landed on Ashton and Luke, that familiar heat rushed to your face. Over the years, they’d only grown more mesmerizing.

Your gaze drifted to Ashton first. His sandy hair was darkened by the water, strands clinging to his forehead, and those ever-present dimples creased his cheeks when he smiled. Rugged and effortlessly handsome, his hazel eyes had a mischievous glint that seemed to see right through you. His hands bore the evidence of countless hours spent drumming, knuckles rough and calloused, a stark contrast to the elegance of his long neck and easy confidence.

And then there was Luke—an entirely different kind of beauty. His piercing blue eyes seemed to put the sky to shame, and the sharp lines of his jaw and the subtle curve of his perfectly slanted nose were enough to make anyone falter. Tall and slightly reserved, Luke carried himself with an air of quiet mystery, the kind that drew people in without him even trying. Yet there was a softness to him, a hesitance that Ashton seemed to balance effortlessly.

“Y/N,” Michael’s voice snapped you out of your daze as he waved a hand in front of your face, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “You good, or…?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you mumbled, forcing yourself to focus on Michael, even as your stomach tightened at the sight of Ashton’s sly grin. He’d definitely noticed the way you zoned out looking at him and Luke.

You cleared your throat, trying to shake it off, but it didn’t help when Ashton leaned over and whispered something into Luke’s ear, making the latter chuckle softly. Their easy banter was magnetic, almost as if they were entirely unaware of just how effortlessly they commanded the room—or, in this case, your full attention.

“I was just going to ask how you were feeling—you’ve been quiet,” Michael said, his expression curious as he studied you.

“So has Luke,” you shot back without hesitation, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

Luke, already watching you, let his gaze linger on the curve of your neck, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m actually pretty entertained right now,” he replied with a shrug, his tone casual. “I’ve participated more than you have.”

Calum let out a small yawn, clearly unimpressed by the bubbling banter between you and Luke. “Well, whatever,” he muttered, standing up from his spot beside Michael. He stretched lazily as he stepped toward the stairs leading out of the hot tub. “I’m spent. Think I’ll call it a night.”

Michael pouted, looking at Calum as though the betrayal was personal. “You’re tired? Really?” he asked, standing up to follow him.

Calum turned back with an exaggerated frown, crossing his arms dramatically. “If you stop looking at me like I killed your grandma, we can head upstairs and play some Call of Duty.”

Ashton chuckled, running a hand through his wet hair. “Don’t wanna pass up on that opportunity, Mike.”

Michael looked torn as he glanced between Calum, Ashton, Luke, and you. “Are you guys coming, or not?” he asked, clearly hoping for backup.

“I’m not much for video games, Michael,” you teased, your tone light as you brought the neck of your beer bottle to your lips, taking a deliberately slow sip.

Ashton’s eyes flicked to you immediately, his focus unshaken as his gaze lingered. A sly grin formed on his face, and you noticed the way his fingers absentmindedly drummed against the edge of the hot tub, his telltale sign of interest.

“I think I’ll stay, too,” Ashton said with a grin, tossing you a wink.

Nothing had ever happened between you and Ashton—just harmless flirting. It was mostly because the opportunity never seemed to arise, though part of you held back because of your budding crush on Luke.

Having the hots for two members of the same band felt like too much to unpack. You didn’t even want to think about what could happen if you pursued both.

The idea seemed almost too rapacious, but when Luke glanced between you and Ashton and the corner of his lip quirked up and his eyebrow rose slightly in intrigue, you wondered if maybe it could be possible.

“Me too,” Luke chimed in with a cheerful grin, and Michael rolled his eyes, muttering something before climbing out of the hot tub and following behind Calum. The two quickly disappeared into the night, their figures growing smaller as their conversation faded into the distance.

The night felt much quieter now, the air heavier as reality settled in. You were alone in the hot tub with Luke and Ashton—completely alone, the faint buzz from a couple of beers still lingering.

Oh Lord.

“Okay, so I think we’ve officially hit that point of the night where we can play stupid high school games,” Ashton said with a mischievous grin, his tone laced with challenge. “What do you say?”

“What, like seven minutes in heaven?” you asked, causing Luke to let out a soft snort. The sound sent a jolt of satisfaction through you, and you watched as Luke shook his head in amusement.

“We can do that too,” Ashton replied, completely unbothered by your joke. “But I was thinking something a little less… you know, down bad.”

“Truth or dare?” Luke’s brow furrowed as he played with the ripples created by a nearby jet in the tub. “Could be fun, I guess.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I could definitely be convinced to play truth or dare.”

Ashton’s grin widened, his confidence radiating like the warmth of the hot tub water. He leaned forward, his eyes darting between you and Luke, lingering on you a fraction longer than necessary. “Who goes first?”

“Well, Ash,” Luke replied, leaning back and propping his arms up on the edge of the tub. “It was your idea, so you should go first.”

Ashton frowned playfully. “Is this you stalling for time to come up with something to ask?”

Luke shot him a smug grin, winking. “Exactly.”

Shaking his head with a soft chuckle, Ashton ran a hand through his damp hair, the motion flexing his bicep just enough to catch your attention. You quickly pulled your knees to your chest, hoping to steady the rush of nerves coursing through you.

“Alright, Luke,” Ashton said, his grin turning devilish. “Truth or dare?”

Luke paused, his fingers brushing over his stubble-covered jaw as he considered the question. His lips were slightly parted, his mind clearly elsewhere, and you could barely focus on anything but him.

“Truth,” Luke said finally, his voice calm but laced with uncertainty.

“Boring,” Ashton pouted dramatically but pressed on. “Alright, have you ever lied to anyone in this room?”

Luke froze, his expression tightening as the question sank in. His cheeks flushed, and his gaze flickered briefly to you.

“You lied to me?” you asked, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise as you tried to piece together what he could mean.

“Not about anything serious,” Luke mumbled, clearly embarrassed. “You remember that time I liked that really old picture on your Instagram? I told you Michael had taken my phone and did it to mess with me, but… the truth is, I was just stalking.”

Your jaw dropped, and a stunned laugh escaped you. “Luke!”

“Yeah,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, his blush deepening. “Not my finest moment.”

“Well, talk about loser central,” Ashton teased, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “Can’t blame you, man—she’s hot.”

The casual compliment caught you completely off guard, and you stammered, struggling to regain your composure. Thankfully, neither of them seemed to notice your flustered reaction.

“Is it my turn?” Luke asked, breaking the moment.

Ashton nodded, leaning back lazily against the edge of the tub. Luke let out a sigh, clearly thinking hard about what to say next. Finally, his shiny blue eyes locked on yours. “Y/N,” he said, his voice steady, “truth or dare?”

Without hesitation, you shot back, “Dare.”

Ashton smirked, draining the last of his beer before stepping out of the tub and perching on the edge. “Atta girl.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head as you waited for Luke’s challenge. He didn’t keep you waiting long.

“Tell us someone’s secret,” he said, his lips curling into a mischievous smile, “without saying who they are.”

You let yourself think for a moment, wracking your brain for a good enough secret that wouldn’t give anyone’s identity away. But then your eyes landed on Luke as he titled his head, looking at you expectantly and your mouth went dry.

You could always say your own secret, because neither of them would ever figure out who you were talking about. “Alright,” you cleared your throat, straightening up. “I know someone that has been aching to be in a man sandwich between you two.”

Luke’s eyes widened comically as he leaned forward, his tone dripping with curiosity. “Who?”

“Nuh-uh,” you grinned, shaking your head. “That was not the dare.”

Pouring, Luke’s shoulders sagged. “Fine, whatever, you win.”

Ashton watched the exchange with a wide smile, leaning back on his hands as he studied the scene before him. Your gaze trailed over the smooth, tan skin of his chest and abdomen, lingering on the faint trail of hair leading beneath his swimming shorts.

“Ash,” you murmured, your voice soft, almost breathy. “Truth or dare?”

Ashton’s eyes flicked to Luke for a brief second before returning to yours. “Dare.”

A small smile curved your lips as you considered your next move. Finally, you leaned in just slightly closer. “Alright,” you said, grinning. “Let me draw something on you with a permanent marker.”

Ashton furrowed his brows, tilting his head in disbelief. “Where the hell am I supposed to pull a permanent marker from?”

“My purse,” you replied, shrugging with a sheepish smile.

Luke’s confused laugh broke the moment. “Why the fuck do you have a permanent marker in your purse?”

"You never know what the night will bring," you teased, flashing him a playful look. Slowly, you stepped out of the tub, feeling both sets of eyes on you as you grabbed your purse. Rifling through it, you pulled out a Sharpie and turned back, catching the unmistakable way Ashton and Luke's gazes lingered on your body. A wave of heat flushed down your spine.

Settling down beside Ashton, you gave him a nudge. "Lean back on your hands like before," you instructed, uncapping the marker. Ashton obeyed, a hint of curiosity in his expression.

Grabbing a towel from a nearby pool chair, you wiped at his skin to dry the area. Your fingers brushed lightly against the sensitive skin of his hip, and you didn't miss the sharp inhale he took at the contact.

You bit back a smile, pushing his shorts down just enough to reveal the sharp definition of his v-line. Carefully, you scrawled your name across it with the marker, pulling back to admire your work. Ashton's pupils were blown wide, his chest rising and falling a bit faster than before. Luke, on the other hand, stared at the two of you with an almost fascinated awe.

Clearing your throat, you placed the marker on the floor and slid back into the water. “Who's next?"

Luke's voice cut through the tension as he leaned toward Ashton with a sly grin. "I've got one," he said. "Truth or dare?"

Ashton frowned slightly, his brow furrowed in thought before he shrugged. "Truth."

Luke's eyes darted briefly to you, the corners of his lips curling into a wicked smirk “What's your real opinion on a threesome?"

Ashton raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised at the sudden turn of events in the conversation. He let out a small laugh, shaking his head in disbelief before meeting Luke’s gaze. “Really? That’s where we’re going? Threesome?”

Luke shrugged unabashedly, leaning back against the tubs edge with a smirk. At some point, he had moved closer to you— his body brushing yours as his arm rested behind your head. Ashton’s eyes flickered between the two of you, and he licked his lips.

“Alright,” He said slowly, running a hand through his dampened hair as he considered the words of his response. “I guess it could be fun. Right group, right vibe… I could be convinced.”

Your breath caught as Ashton’s eyes met yours, the glint of arousal almost unmistakable in the dim light. You briefly wondered if he knew that you had shared your secret, your most intense fantasy.

"Y/N, what about you?" Luke asked, his smirk deepening as he leaned in closer. You could see every detail of his face-the curve of his nose, the subtle quirk of his brow-and it made your mouth go dry.

When you glanced over at Ashton, his eyes were flicking between you and Luke, his chest rising and falling unevenly, as if he were bracing for whatever came next.

With a sudden surge of confidence, you tilted forward, your nose brushing against Luke's. His breath fanned across your face, still tinged with the scent of beer. "It's my turn, pretty boy. Wait for yours."

Luke's eyes dipped to your lips, and you caught the flicker of his tongue as he licked his bottom lip, drawing in a sharp breath. "That's no fun."

"Truth or dare, Lu," you murmured, your voice light but laced with challenge.

"Dare," he replied, his voice low, almost a growl.

You smirked, pulling away from him completely, letting the tension linger as you turned to Ashton. His darkened eyes were fixed on you, and the intensity in his gaze sent a thrill down your spine.

"I dare you to make out with Ashton," you said, your tone playful yet daring.

Everyone went quiet, and for a moment you wondered if perhaps you’d gone too far. But then, Ashton’s mouth quirked into a challenging smirk, and Luke slowly glanced at his best friend.

“Fine,” Luke murmured, pushing up from his sitting position and slowly walking over to where Ashton sat by the edge.

You watched as he lowered himself back into the tub, looking between you and Luke. “You’re not gonna back down?” He asked.

Luke shrugged, his smirk only deepening. “A dare is a dare. Plus, the lady requested it.”

You watched as they closed the gap between them, Ashton’s jaw slightly tightened as he titled his head and met Luke’s lips with his own.

The kiss was slow at first, and you supposed it was only natural since neither of them made a habit out of kissing other men. Still, after a few seconds, Ashton’s hand came up to grip the back of Luke’s neck, pulling him closer.

You watched in stunned silence, your breath caught in your throat as the kiss quickly deepened. Waves of desire washed over you, and you clenched your thighs in an effort to find some semblance of relief.

Luke responded to Ashton with equal fervor, his hands coming to curl into his damp hair— and you caught the hiss he let out as Ashton gently bit his lip ring.

It was over all too soon though, because Ashton and Luke both pulled away. They were slightly out of breath, looking at each other in surprise. Luke was the first to sit back down, his cheeks having a faint flush to them.

“Is that you wanted, Y/N?” He asked teasingly, his expression daring.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to remain composed as you met Luke’s desire ridden stare. Everything was about to change, and you couldn’t be more ready for it. “Oh absolutely,” you grinned, keeping your voice smooth despite the heat that flooded your cheeks.

“Alright then,” Ashton stretched, closing in on Luke and you. “It’s your turn. Truth or dare.”

Your mind was running wild with possibilities of what Ashton could ask of you with either choice. Still recovering from what you just had witnessed, though, you found that you didn’t want to just answer a simple question. “Dare.”

Ashton exchanged a quick glance with Luke, leaning closer and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I dare you to kiss Luke exactly like you just made him kiss me.”

Your mouth went dry, and every nerve in your body seemed to hum with anticipation as you turned to face Luke. His hand slid to the back of your neck, his touch firm yet gentle. A small, cocky smile tugged at his lips as he leaned in, his breath brushing against your skin. "I don't bite," he murmured, his lips grazing yours teasingly. "Unless that's what makes you moan."

Before you could respond, his lips crashed against yours with intensity. Your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders, seeking stability as his mouth worked eagerly against yours. The cool sensation of his lip ring against your skin sent shivers down your spine, and without thinking, you tugged at his hair, earning a low growl from him.

Luke's tongue grazed your lower lip before slipping past, exploring your mouth with fervor. His hands slid from your neck to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. When he bit down gently on your bottom lip, a soft groan escaped you, and his smirk deepened against your mouth.

"Ashton," Luke murmured between heated kisses, his voice dripping with challenge. "Truth or dare."

"Dare," Ashton replied, his voice steady but laced with curiosity.

Luke's lips paused for a moment as he grinned wickedly. "I dare you to kiss what you think her most sensitive spot is."

The words sent a wave of heat through you, leaving your head spinning. Luke's hands steadied you as Ashton moved closer, his gaze burning into yours. When he was within reach, Luke pulled back just enough to slip behind you, his lips trailing warm kisses along the side of your neck.

Ashton's hand ghosted over the knot of your bathing suit top, his eyes dark and questioning. "Can I?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, breathless, and with one swift pull, the knot came undone, leaving you bare before them.

Ashton leaned down, his lips brushing your skin as he kissed along your neck, his teeth grazing your collarbone before trailing lower. The cool air made your skin prickle, but it was quickly replaced by warmth as his mouth hovered over your chest.

He blew gently against your hardened nipple before capturing it in his mouth, his tongue flicking against the sensitive skin. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you threw your head back against Luke's chest, a moan spilling from your lips.

One of your hands tangled in Ashton's hair as his tongue circled your nipple with expert precision, his teeth grazing it gently. Luke's free hand joined in, kneading and teasing your chest, causing a wave of pleasure to ripple through you. A desperate whimper escaped your lips, trembling as you felt Luke's growing hardness pressed against your back. "Truth or dare," you murmured, your voice trembling. "Both of you."

"Dare," they both responded in unison, their eyes locked on you as they continued their ministrations, seeking more of your moans.

"I dare you both to fuck me."

The words lingered in the air, igniting a spark of heat between the three of you as they both nodded in agreement, their gazes heavy with desire.

"Let's get out of the tub then," Luke murmured, his voice low as he nipped at your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine.

The three of you clambered out of the hot tub, steam rising off your skin as neither of their hands left your body. They guided you to one of the pool chairs, their touches gentle but deliberate, the tension thick between you.

Ashton was the first to move, laying you back on the chair with a smirk. His mouth immediately returned to your chest, his lips and teeth exploring with an eagerness that made your breath hitch. Luke, meanwhile, hovered over you, his hands sliding up your thighs as his gaze locked on yours, full of intent.

You watched through half-lidded eyes as Luke kissed down your stomach, his hands firmly gripping your thighs. Ashton momentarily pulled away, his heated gaze flickering to Luke. Without a word, Luke hooked his fingers into the side of your bathing suit bottom, pulling it aside with precision.

"Let's see just how fun this can get," Ashton murmured, his voice thick with amusement and desire. His lips captured yours in a heated kiss, his hands framing your face as Luke's mouth descended lower, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

The anticipation coiled tightly within you, every touch, every breath sending waves of electricity through your body.

Luke's lips trailed up the inside of your thighs, nipping at the sensitive skin and drawing soft moans from you into Ashton's mouth. Anticipation built with every graze of his teeth, every brush of his lips, until his hot breath fanned against your now-exposed clit, sending a shiver down your spine.

When Luke's tongue dragged a long stripe up your heat, your back arched instinctively, pleasure flooding your senses. Your mind was hazy, barely able to register Ashton grabbing your arm and guiding it between your bodies, pressing his cock—still constrained by his swimsuit—into your palm.

Luke's tongue swirled expertly over your clit, his movements drawing sharp gasps from you. Your free hand found its way into his hair, tugging lightly whenever he sucked just right. Meanwhile, Ashton had slipped out of his shorts, leaving his length exposed. You let your fingers trace teasingly along his shaft, earning a shaky groan from him.

“C'mon,” Ashton murmured against your lips, his voice low and breathless. “I dare you to touch me.”

At that exact moment, Luke slid two fingers into your entrance, curling them perfectly to hit every sensitive spot while his tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit.

"Fuck, okay-" you panted, finally wrapping your hand around Ashton's cock and stroking him slowly.

He let out a sharp hiss against your mouth, and you felt the deep vibration of Luke's hum against you as he sucked harder, sending waves of pleasure through your trembling body. “You’re so pretty,” you heard him mutter between licks. “Taste so fucking good— just as good as you look.”

Your hand increased the speed at which it worked in Ashton, your own body growing heavy with desire. “Look at you,” Ashton purred into your mouth. “All needy for us. You thought we didn’t know? You didn’t think we noticed the way you were practically gagging for our cocks? You’re such a whore.”

His lips pressed against your neck, sucking into the skin and biting— no doubt leaving marks. “Your hand feels so good,” he groaned breathily, and Luke’s mouth didn’t falter on you. “You’re such a good girl for us.”

You nodded eagerly, flicking your thumb over Ashton’s tip and relishing the groan that escaped from deep within his throat. “You gonna let us destroy that pretty little pussy?” He asked.

“Please,” you moaned, feeling the warmth in your belly begin to reach a boiling point. You began grinding against Luke’s tongue, and he moaned into you, his fingers increasing their speed.

Luke was relentless, the rhythm of his fingers and tongue so perfectly in sync that your thighs began to tremble uncontrollably. Pleasure coursed through you in waves, pulling soft, breathless cries of both their names from your lips.

Your hand continued its steady pace along Ashton's cock, the smooth glide drawing low groans from him. Unable to resist, he started thrusting into your hand, his movements needy and unrestrained, a clear reflection of just how badly he wanted more.

“What do you think, Luke?” Ashton asked, his hands coming up to play with your pert nipples and your chest. “Should we let her come?”

Luke pulled his mouth away to answer, and you whined at the loss of contact. However, his fingers didn’t stop moving. “I wanna see how much we can make her come.”

Ashton smirked, leaning forward— his lips brushing against yours in the barest ghost of a kiss. “I think I’d like to see that,” he murmured.

When Luke’s tongue returned to work on you, it became quickly evident that you wouldn’t be able to hold off for much longer. “I’m so close,” you gasped, the hand that was tangled in Luke’s hair tightening slightly.

“Come for Luke, pretty girl,” Ashton urged in your ear, his voice strained.

Ashton’s words sent her over the edge, waves of prickling pleasure crashing down on you as you squeezed your eyes shut, your legs clamping on Luke’s head involuntarily as you rode out your high.

Luke's licks softened into gentle kisses before he finally pulled away, a satisfied smirk playing on his swollen, glistening lips.

The mix of your release and his spit left a sheen that only made his confidence more intoxicating. "I wanna fuck you," Luke rasped, his voice rough as he tugged at the knot holding his swim trunks snugly against his hips. His eyes bore into yours, the heat in them unmistakable.

Still dazed from the aftermath of your orgasm, you nodded, your breath hitching as you turned your attention to Ashton.

"And you're gonna let me fuck your mouth while Luke fucks you, isn't that right, babygirl?" Ashton murmured, his tone a low rasp that sent another shiver down your spine. His fingers brushed your chin, tilting your face toward him.

With shaky hands, you sat up, adjusting yourself until you were on all fours, your body positioned perfectly before Ashton. Your lips parted slightly in anticipation as you waited for what would happen next.

Ashton’s hand cupped your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Can’t wait to see what that pretty mouth of yours looks all full,” he murmured, slipping his thumb past your lips beckoning your mouth to open wider.

“That’s it Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with arousal as his other hand gripped his cock, giving it a few strokes before brushing the tip against your lips and pushing in.

The salty taste of him on your tongue made you moan around him, opening your jaw as wide as it could go to take in as much of him as possible. Slowly, you began to work on his tip with your tongue, tracing the underside of it and drawing out a long groan from him.

Behind you, Luke was gripping your waist, his hands wandering. You could feel his fingers teasing your entrance and clit, gathering the moisture on them. “You look so fucking good like this,” he hissed, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock.

You hummed around Ashton, the vibrations pulling a deep groan from his chest as his grip on your hair tightened. His head tipped back briefly before he looked down at you again, his pupils blown wide with desire.

Behind you, Luke slowly pushed in, the head of his cock dipping deeper until he was fully sheathed inside you. The stretch was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and pain that left your body trembling.

Despite the sensation, your rhythm on Ashton didn't falter. You hollowed your cheeks, drawing him in deeper as he bit his bottom lip, a low growl escaping him. “That's it, baby,” he murmured, his voice laced with praise. “You're taking us both so well.”

“Fuck,” Luke groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he began to move. His thrusts started slow, deliberate, before picking up pace. “You feel so good, so damn tight around me.”

The combination of their movements left you breathless, your body a slave to the pleasure building with each stroke. Ashton's cock slid wetly between your lips, his hips rocking in time with Luke's thrusts.

The air was thick with the sound of skin meeting skin, your muffled moans, and the groans falling freely from both men. Ashton's hand tangled further in your hair, guiding your pace as he watched you through hooded eyes. Luke's grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts becoming more erratic as his breathing grew heavier.

“You're perfect like this,” Luke rasped, his voice rough. “Taking us like you were made for it.”

His thrusts intensified, each of them hitting deeper and deeper inside you, making you moan around Ashton.

Ashton’s hands tightened on your hair, moving your head on his length and you hallowed your cheeks, swirling your tongue. Tears sprang into your eyes, and you could feel Luke’s fingers digging into your hips as he continued his relentless pace.

Shakily, you raised a hand and wrapped it around Ashton’s cock, pulling back to catch your breath as you moved your hand up and down. “Just like that,” he groaned. “Look at you— taking Luke so well, you’re such a pretty slut.”

His hips bucked slightly, meeting the motions of your hand as you let out a small whimper after a particularly harsh thrust from Luke. His hand had snaked between your legs, beginning to rub at your clit in tight circles as he continued to fuck into you.

“God, baby, you’re squeezing me so tight,” Luke’s voice was strained, letting you know he was fighting back his own release. “Are you close?”

You shut your eyes tight, taking Ashton back into your mouth and whimpering. You could feel the tears beginning to stream down your face, the sensation of Luke filling you and the moans falling from Ashton’s mouth were almost too much.

Your body tensed as the pressure built, Luke’s fingers never letting up from your clit and he made stars spring in your vision with every thrust. He was relentless, sending jolts of ecstasy through your body with each snap of his hips. You opened your eyes, meeting Ashton’s.

“Come for us,” Ashton growled. “Show us how good we can make you feel.”

“Please baby,” Luke whimpered from behind you. “Come with me.”

The combination of Luke's relentless thrusts, the pressure of his fingers on your clit, and Ashton's lewd words proved too much. The tension in your core snapped violently, sending you spiraling into another intense orgasm. You cried out around Ashton's cock, pulling back slightly as your body shook uncontrollably and clenched tightly around Luke.

Luke groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. Ashton cupped your face, guiding you into a needy kiss. His tongue swept over your bottom lip before diving into your mouth, tasting you deeply. You struggled to kiss him back, overwhelmed by the pleasure still coursing through your body.

With a guttural moan, Luke finally reached his peak, spilling inside you as he murmured your name like a prayer. His hips stilled, and his forehead dropped against your back, his breathing ragged. Ashton pulled away from your kiss, his thumb brushing softly over your swollen bottom lip as he studied your dazed expression with a smirk.

“You're so perfect,” Ashton murmured, his voice low and full of desire. He stood, his commanding presence making your pulse quicken. “Now, clean Luke up while I fuck you,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

Without missing a beat, Ashton and Luke switched places. Luke leaned back against the edge of the hot tub, his chest still rising and falling from the intensity, while Ashton positioned himself behind you. You turned toward Luke, your hand brushing over his thighs as your lips ghosted over his sensitive tip.

Behind you, Ashton ran his hands along your waist, gripping you firmly as he aligned himself with your entrance. “You ready for me, baby” he asked, his breath warm against your ear.

You nodded, your lips wrapping around Luke's still-sensitive length as Ashton began to push into you, filling you completely. A shudder rippled through your body at the overwhelming sensation of being taken by both men, their combined dominance driving you to new heights.

Ashton didn't hold back, his thrusts hard and relentless as your cries filled the night air. You barely had time to register the shift before Luke's hand gently tilted your face back toward him. “Mouth on me, baby,” he murmured, brushing away a strand of hair that clung to your damp skin.

“God, your ass looks so good like this,” Ashton groaned, his voice dripping with lust. His hands gripped your hips firmly, ensuring you met each of his thrusts. “You're such a little cockwhore, aren't you? One wasn't enough; you needed both of us to fill you up. Dirty girl.”

Each of Ashton's movements sent waves of overstimulated pleasure through your body, leaving you trembling and breathless. The sharp edge of sensitivity from your earlier orgasms only heightened the intensity. “Fuck, yeah,” you gasped, your voice breaking. “Need to be fucked by both of you.”

Your mouth returned to Luke, your tongue tracing the length of him as you tasted the mixture of yourself and his release. His head fell back briefly, a satisfied groan slipping from his lips.

“I'm so close,” Ashton growled, his grip tightening, his nails digging into your skin as his rhythm became erratic. Luke leaned down, pulling his cock from your lips and guiding your chin upward to meet his gaze.

“Look at me,” Luke commanded softly, his voice a low rumble. He crouched before you, his lips brushing yours before trailing down your jaw. His teeth grazed your neck, and he sucked on the sensitive skin just below your ear, making you shiver. “You're such a good girl,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “Took me so well, and now you're taking Ashton like the perfect little thing you are. Making us feel so damn good, pretty girl.”

Ashton groaned behind you, his pace becoming erratic before he buried himself deep, releasing with a guttural moan that sent a shiver through your already trembling body.

Luke's hands cradled your face with surprising tenderness, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he murmured soft praises. He kissed you deeply, his lips coaxing yours despite your shaky, breathless state.

Ashton, still catching his breath, began trailing warm kisses down your spine, his lips pressing softly against the heated skin. You gasped when he dipped lower, his tongue gently lapping at the evidence of their shared release, cleaning you with slow, deliberate strokes.

The sensation sent jolts of overstimulation coursing through your body, and you moaned weakly, your muscles quivering under his touch. By the time Ashton pulled away, you collapsed onto the lawn chair, your chest rising and falling heavily as the last waves of pleasure ebbed away.

"Truth or dare, Y/N?" Luke asked, his tone light as he helped you sit up. Ashton's hands worked carefully to redo the knots of your bathing suit top, his touch gentle as he tried to keep you decent.

Ashton pressed a sweet kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering for a moment. “Truth,” you answered, your voice soft as you slumped back against Ashton's chest. Your legs found their way onto Luke's lap, and his hands instinctively began to massage your calves.

A small smile tugged at his lips, and your eyes flickered to the black lip ring gleaming under the light. “So,” Luke began, his voice teasing, “did we live up to that man-sandwich fantasy you mentioned?”

Despite your exhaustion, a wave of heat surged through you at the memory of what had just happened. You let out a quiet laugh, your cheeks warming as you smirked. “Only if we can do it again.”

The two of them didn’t hesitate when answering. “Deal.”

Ashton laughed. “But let’s get out of here before Mike or Calum realize what they missed out on.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

thank you for reading pookies!! i hope this was a fun read, this really was out of my comfort zone but it was really exciting to write!

as always, send me your requests <33

[ashleftstick]

In the Heat of You (Ash)

The air between you and Ashton feels thick, charged with something unspoken. It’s the kind of tension that hums in the silence, a pull that neither of you can ignore. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, the moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting soft shadows across his face. But there’s nothing soft about the way he’s looking at you.

His gaze is dark, intense, like he’s trying to read you, to decode something inside you, but it’s clear there’s more on his mind than just figuring you out. His body is tense, his jaw set tight, and every time his eyes flick to your lips, you feel your pulse quicken, a spark of heat running through you.

It’s the quiet after the chaos of the tour, and for the first time in a long while, it’s just the two of you—alone in a room, with no distractions. But this silence... it feels like it’s about to crack.

You can’t stand it anymore.

“Ashton,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. You know he’s listening, can feel every muscle in his body tuned to your voice. “What’s going on with you tonight?”

He lets out a slow breath, eyes never leaving yours. His hands, resting on his knees, are clenched tight. You can feel the energy between you—raw, untamed, thick with something deeper. He doesn’t answer immediately, and the pause stretches long, the tension building with each second that passes.

Finally, his voice breaks the silence, low and gravelly. “I’m trying not to lose control.”

You lean forward, your heart pounding in your chest, the words igniting something in you. "Control over what?" you ask, your breath catching in your throat.

He shifts, a slight movement that feels like a warning. “You,” he admits, his voice rougher now, edged with frustration. “Every time I’m near you, it’s like I can’t breathe. I can’t think. And I—” He cuts himself off with a sharp exhale, standing abruptly. The air between you crackles with the shift, the space between you now brimming with heat and restraint.

He turns to face the window, his back to you, his shoulders tense. You can see the muscles in his back ripple under the fabric of his shirt, and it drives a new kind of hunger in you—an ache deep in your chest. You know what he means, feel the same pull, the same desperate desire. But you’re not sure how much longer you can wait for him to make the first move.

“Why don’t you just let go?” you challenge softly, your voice a little daring, a little breathless. “You don’t have to fight it anymore. I’m here.”

Ashton spins back around to face you, his eyes dark and stormy, his body vibrating with tension. The look in his eyes sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. Without another word, he closes the distance between you in a heartbeat, his hands gripping the sides of your face, tilting your head back with a fierce urgency.

And then, he kisses you.

It’s not soft. It’s not gentle. It’s desperate, hungry, a collision of lips and heat. His mouth crashes against yours, his hands pulling you to him so fast that you gasp. The kiss is bruising, intense, every part of him demanding and consuming. His tongue slips into your mouth, stroking and tasting, as if he’s trying to drink you in.

You kiss him back with everything inside you, your hands finding their way to his chest, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him even closer. His breath is ragged against your lips, each exhale a sound of frustration and want. You can feel the muscles in his arms tense, like he’s holding back from doing something more, something that might break you both apart in the best way.

His hands slide down your back, pulling you flush against him, and the heat of his body makes your heart race. You can feel him—feel the hard, undeniable evidence of how much he wants you. The tension between your bodies is explosive, and it’s all you can do not to completely lose yourself in him.

Ashton pulls away for a split second, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting, trying to catch your breath. “I need you,” he breathes, the words barely a whisper, but they strike like lightning in the stillness of the room. “God, I can’t think about anything else. All I can think about is you.”

You exhale shakily, your hands trailing down his chest, the desire between you two more than you can handle. The pressure is building, and you know you’re both on the edge of something that could consume you both completely.

Without thinking, you tug at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head. The moment the fabric leaves his body, you feel the warmth of his skin under your fingertips, and your body responds instantly, an electric pulse running through you.

Ashton lets out a low, tortured sound at the touch, and his hands fly to your waist, pulling you closer, if that’s even possible, the heat between you intensifying. His lips are on you again—this time slower, deeper, more insistent as his hands slide up your back, guiding you into a rhythm that matches the frantic beat of your heart.

"Don’t hold back," you breathe against his lips, your hands gripping the sides of his face as you pull him closer. "Not now. Not ever."

The words break something inside him. Ashton groans against your lips, a sound of raw need, and the last of his restraint shatters. He kisses you again, this time with an intensity that feels like it might set you both on fire. His hands roam across your body, every touch, every caress setting your skin alight. He’s not asking anymore—he’s taking, and you’re giving, both of you drowning in the raw need of it all.

The world outside doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters is Ashton. The heat, the need, the burning tension between you. It’s everything. And as his hands slide under your shirt, you know, without a doubt, that nothing will ever feel as electric as this.

[bloomingbluez]

want that too | calum hood

MDNI

"Calum is not the kind of guy Dee would expect to be interested in, and Dee definitely isn’t the kind of girl Calum would usually bring home from the club.

When their crushes hit it off, Dee and Calum find out that sometimes the least expected is also the most exciting."

—————

pairing: calum hood x fem!oc (+ briefly mentioned luke hemmings x fem!oc)

word count: 5.7k

tw: smut, drunk sex, toxic friendships

a/n:

after attempting multiple y/n blurbs, i came to a conclusion that it’s not my cup of tea, so please meet dee! i hope you enjoy this little piece, that introduces the characters, because if inspiration allows, i plan to write more for dee and calum, and by association also gigi and luke.

i don’t want to commit, but there’s a plan! so please enjoy the beginning of their story, and feel free to send me any requests, maybe in form of what would you like to see in their story, or just generally kind of plots you’d like to see.

© 2025 bloomingbluez

“Jealous?”

A male voice pulls Dee out of her thoughts. She’s sitting on the right end of a curved bar at one of the LA clubs, the gin and tonic in front of her long finished and forgotten. Resting her elbows on the counter, she props her chin on her elbows to steady her hazy eyes.

Her point of observation has been a pair of blonde, supermodel looking people, talking at the other end of the bar. The girl has to be pushing six feet and she’s only able to look the guy in the eyes thanks to the glittery, pink heels. Her flowy pastel dress barely reaches the mid-thigh, and his hand, resting on her hip, has been doing a good job in slightly pulling it up every so often. Her blonde hair easily reaches her lower back, curled in a curated blow out that had to take ages.

Dee would know — she was the lead engineer of the hairstyle, helping her operate the blow dryer only two hours earlier while they pregamed in some fancy hotel room.

She doesn’t really know the guy, except that he was the first and only person to catch her attention since they entered the club. Dee has a type, and it is the type of beauty completely opposite to hers. His blonde angel curls falling softly against the forehead, straight nose and a white, satin looking shirt that hugs his torso without being too tight. While they ordered the first round of drinks, she could already imagine getting towered over that man in a bathroom stall, or maybe even coming home with him. Sadly, Dee was already tipsy and made the stupid mistake of expressing her fantasies out loud.

It was as much as Gigi, her gorgeous friend who actually is a supermodel, needed to take an interest in the guy. Dee knows her chances; compared to her childhood friend, she is average at best, but without competition out of her league, she has been able to pull people who would never bat an eye in her direction. Now, when she has to go against Gigi…

What was supposed to be a fun reunion of high school best friends quickly turned into another of Gigi’s conquests, leaving Dee to slowly sip her drinks under the compassionate stare of one of the bartenders.

“Sorry?” she asks, looking up at the guy who decided to invade her slumber party. He’s tall, and a complete opposite of what she initially fixated on. Where the angel boy has soft blonde curls falling against a ghostly pale face, her new friend appears to have a darker skin tone and a head full of thick, black curls that are a mess. It suits him, in a way, the plump lips and chocolate brown eyes that stare at her with the same intensity that she blessed Gigi with only seconds ago.

“I asked if you’re jealous,” he clarifies, and sits on the vacant stool next to Dee.

She only shrugs.

“Are you?”

“A bit. Look at her, she’s gorgeous,” he says, flagging the bartender. “Another one?” When Dee nodes, he orders them another round of drinks and asks to add it to his tab. She won’t argue with a guy buying her drinks, free alcohol is always welcomed.

“She is.”

Dee is a girl’s girl. She could go off about all the things that made their friendship distant in recent years, but she won’t vent to some random guy, she won’t paint her friend as the devil. Gigi’s not bad, she’s just very specific, and she loves to have what others want, while also making sure they can’t get it — or maybe Dee just always imagined it that way.

“Fuck, ok. I am jealous. I really wanted to make a move on her, but then my friend over there did,” he fires up, and Dee’s eyes widen as she looks up to scan his face for any sign of mockery.

When the bartender brings out their drinks, she clings her glass against his and smiles up.

“Well, I wanted to make a move on your friend but my friend got there first.” She tips the glass against her lips, the bitter taste of tonic water flooding her mouth. “I’m Dee, by the way.”

He laughs, a rich sound that draws out the white trash music the DJ decided to play. It sends a chill down her spine, making Dee bite her lips painted deep red.

In all fairness, she would never expect to be approached by a man. Besides the obvious conviction of her average or repulsive looks, there was a plan for the evening. She just wishes that the night would go as planned and instead of sulking, she would be dancing with her friend to Only Girl. Maybe if life wasn’t a competition for Gigi, they could have fun like the good old days, but the old days were never that good.

Their friendship had been toxic from the start, and the amount of times Dee wanted to end it couldn’t be accounted for. Gigi always envied her achievements, which should be flattering in the long run, except Dee’s worth had always been seen as part of being in Gigi’s circle. In high school, she was the weird goth hanging out with a popular queen B, and later, she was the up and coming designer who made her model friend famous. Except in their circle, with their families and people who knew them from before, it was impossible to comprehend that Dee Simmons could have and give Gigi Bell anything the girl didn’t have already.

The gossip was ridiculous — Gigi was the muse behind her first collection, she agreed to walk the runway when no models turned up, she was the reason Dee managed to break through in the industry. At the end of the day, a designer is only as good as the work they present, and that largely depends on how the models walk. But Gigi wasn’t the next Shalom Harlow to elevate the clothes that Dee put on her back; like most mean and pretty girls, she was just lucky enough to have a friend who grew up in her shadow.

“Like the Princess, hm?”

“Yeah, exactly like the princess. Are you secretly British?” Of course he’s not, she would notice the accent, but Dee is too drunk to notice anything beside his beaming smile. It’s disarming, warm like a sunkiss, and she finds herself pulled towards it in a way she hasn’t experienced before.

“God no. Actually-”

He stands up from the bar stool and does a twirl. Before Dee notices the skirt, or rather the kilt, he’s already halfway done with the turn, but she still managed to shamelessly whistle him up and clap. The people sitting closest to them turn heads, but she doesn’t notice in the slightest.

Anybody can rock a silk shirt, but a skirt…

“Scottish?” she asks, sipping on her drink. Gigi and her new victim are long forgotten, Dee’s attention completely concentrated on her new companion who still hasn’t introduced himself.

“Half.” Sitting back on the stool, their knees bump, and Dee gets another shiver. Even though the club is loud, she uses all her willpower to focus on what he’s saying. “I’m Calum by the way,” he adds.

“Calum,” she repeats. The name rolls off her tongue easily, and Dee already knows it’s not one of those awkward names to moan or whimper. The thought alone makes her blush, because even though she’s quite comfortable in her sexuality, Calum is not the guy she would flag at a club as her potential prey.

She scans his tattoos, the thick hair and full lips, even the kilt that has a very similar pattern to her own skirt. Calum is the complete opposite of the angel boy, which also makes him completely similar to Dee. Her arms are littered with meaningless tattoos, handpoke doodles on her knuckles and freestyle pieces up the shoulder. Short, french bob barely reaches her shoulders. and a thick fringe is almost long enough to cover her dark eyes, even though she still sees everything with predatory precision.

While Gigi is built of soft edges and rounded corners, Dee is a maze of sharp angles and skin that doesn’t really settle well on her bones. She loves her body, it’s a form of art like anything she does, but it’s not something most men would go for, which immediately makes her think why would Calum approach her. He’s not unconventionally hot, tall and broad, he could have any girl at the club. Even if Dee would fuck a guy in the bathroom, she wants to be genuine, or at least mutual. Her whole life is a consolation prize for being Gigi’s friend, and the last thing she needs on top of that is to be a second choice for a guy who didn’t have his chance with her.

“So, you like my friend, hm?” she asks, mixing her drink with a paper straw that softened a few minutes ago.

“I mean, yeah.” Calum’s eyes linger on the spot where Gigi and his friend used to be. Dee didn’t even notice when they disappeared, and she’s hoping that if they leave the club, she won’t bring him to their hotel room. “But if Luke’s interested in her, then we probably wouldn’t click,” he admits, his voice thick with an emotion she can identify all too well. As if he found that out from experience well too many times…

“Yeah, I get what you mean.”

Every time Dee liked someone in the past, Gigi would miraculously find herself in their orbit and end up dating them. She could charm anyone, and Dee understood why people fell into her trap. Gigi wasn’t a stupid doll, she knew how to talk to people, how to manipulate. She could change her persona in seconds, just to fit someone’s idea of her. Sadly, the more Dee’s crush liked her friend, the less she would respect them. It wasn’t something she should blame people about, but fuck if it wasn’t disappointing to see someone fall for a trap that was so evident for her.

“You were interested in Luke?” Calum sends her a side eye, which makes her blush.

Boys don’t make Dee blush.

She elbows him, not with too much force, although she doubts even all her strength would be enough to harm a guy this big, and shakes her head when he theatrically grabs his side.

“Yeah. But I like this Scottish Princess thing you got going on more,” she admits, because if Dee has no filter while sober, she has to lose all the shame after drinking.

Calum laughs, again, and fuck, she likes the sound of it. Usually, Dee is not a person who would notice something like that. Once she finds the guy she likes, their conversation is oriented to a goal in her mind, and she will say anything to get there, only registering if she’s getting closer or further away from the result. With Calum, she doesn’t really know where this will go, where they will allow it to end. It’s all casual and very indulgent, letting her mind drift and her body react.

“Thank you. I’ll be honest, I always wanted to hook up with Princess Diana,” he says, apparently no filter to be found on him either. Dee snorts, making him realise what he just said.

Calum blushes, and fuck her if it’s not the most charming thing she has ever experienced.

“Oh, so we’re hooking up now? What happened to ‘Hello, how are you?’” It’s easy to tell that even though some people might have gotten offended, she’s ready to laugh it off.

She would lie by saying that her plans for the evening were different; Dee just didn’t expect for her and Gigi to separate so fast, but she doesn’t mind this new company. Maybe it’s because they’re already drunk, but there’s no awkwardness between her and Calum. It’s what makes him so attractive in her eyes. Yeah, he might be hot, but he wasn’t the one she picked out of the crowd — the longer they talk, the more she thinks that maybe she made a mistake by flagging Luke as the most desired person in the room.

It’s never fun when your best friend snatches something you really want from under your nose, but for once, the universe seems to be repaying her. And just like Calum said, seeing Gigi be so interested in the angel boy makes him that much less attractive. Maybe he truly is a great person, but Dee won’t be finding that out anytime soon, will she? In two weeks her friend is going to call and say that they went out a couple of times but things flaked off, because he had some very minor but crucial flaw that turned her off too much. Worse case, they will date for two months before she meets someone more interesting. Dee knows Gigi well; she doesn’t do long term relationships, because there’s no need for that when she never has to be lonely. There’s always another person to chase, and now that they see each other once every few months, Dee couldn’t care less.

Maybe it makes her a terrible friend, but Gigi has plenty of friends she values more. All her model friends, the ones who walk for big designers, or the people she met within the industry. Dee would love to hate her, but she knows it’s something her parents conditioned her for. Every human interaction can give you gain, and it’s something she lives by. When Dee was profitable, she was the top friend, but these days she’s just the only one who’s there when no one else shows up for Gigi because of her push-and-pull behaviour.

“How are you, Dee? Do you want to know my family history? Social security number?” he mocks, his stool moving closer to hers with a screech that gets swallowed up by the fuss of the club.

Somehow, they end up making eye contact, brown eyes staring at each other, neither breaking it.

“Time and place of birth? I need to check if our signs are compatible.” She leans towards him, and when their knees block her from getting close, Dee just throws her legs over his. Calum doesn’t miss a beat, placing his hand on her exposed leg, now resting in his lap.

“Might need to call my mum for that.” Calum shakes his head, his finger tracing circles on her knee.

She really doesn’t want to, but Dee leans into the temptation. Biting her lip, she looks down to see how big his hand looks on her, how his skin contrasts against hers. His fingernails are painted black, another thing that makes Calum that more tempting.

“Tell her I said ‘hi’ while you’re at it.” Looking back up, she smiles sweetly, but Calum’s eyes are glued to her cleavage, exposed by the corset top. “My eyes are up here,” she says teasingly. Her two fingers settle below his chin, pushing his head up, until they’re face to face again.

“I wasn’t looking at your eyes, princess” he admits, no shane in his voice, no blush. His hand rides up on her thigh, almost getting to the hem of her skirt.

She sighs, getting goosebumps from the touch. Fuck me, she thinks, because the way he talks to her, the way he looks, everything about Calum makes her want to break the rules. She’s just the right mix of drunk and sober to justify a bad decision as something that might potentially be really fucking good, because the way his name rolls off her tongue makes Dee want to shamelessly moan it, and bathroom stalls are just not a place for that. Going home to a stranger's house is also highly irresponsible, but every so often Dee remembers she’s an adult and has free will and people died for much less than the prospect of possibly great hook up.

“Do you need anything else over here?” The bartender appears out of nowhere, grabbing their empty glasses.

Dee responds before Calum can even open his mouth: “We’re good. Actually, he would like to close his tab.” She sends the girl a polite smile, nodding towards him.

“Sure, just give me five minutes.”

Calum looks at her through narrowed eyes, but even now she can tell that they’re glazed over with desire, and for once, Dee feels pretty under that look.

Usually she couldn’t care less; she just wants to get off, and if a guy likes her enough to get hard, which is not really an accomplishment, she’s fine with being his forgettable one night stand. When she started getting tattoos and pierced her brow and belly button, Dee’s mum told her that looking like that she would never find a man. At first, it was a bummer, but soon enough, Dee realised that she doesn’t want a man, she just wants to be satisfied, and a guy doesn’t have to like her to do that for her.

But the way Calum looks at her, Dee wants to bask in it. It’s been so long since she got shivers down her spine, since the hairs on her arms have stood up from the intensity of just talking to somebody. The way he looks at her, she might even believe that he thinks she’s pretty, hot, attractive.

“Why am I closing my tab?” he asks, even though they both know the answer.

“You’re taking me home, princess.” Dee drags her nail on his arm, across one of the tattoos, and then patiently waits as he signs the check, his hand never leaving her leg.

—————

They tumble into his apartment, their limbs already tangled together. Calum holds her leg the entire drive to his place, and once they reach his apartment door and Dee drops a snarky comment about the fancy building he lives in, he pins her against the nearest wall and joins their lips in a feverish kiss. She makes sure that the neighbours hear her first moan, in case the walls are thick.

It goes very fast from there, a haze of messy kisses and bites and a trial of clothes that doesn’t even lead them to the bedroom. Before Dee can notice, she’s pinned against the wall again, this time face-first when Calum struggles with the ties of her corset top. He swears under his breath, fiddling with the ribbon, and instead of helping him, Dee decides to let him struggle.

“Why would you wear that?” he asks, hopelessly pulling at the strings, hoping one of them will just let go in spite of the knot.

“It’s pretty.” Dee’s tone is innocent, as if she has no idea why he might be so frustrated.

“It’s impractical,” Calum scoffs. “Let me get the scissors-”

“God, no,” she sighs, turning around to face him. Immediately, he leans in to kiss her, but Dee grabs his chin and makes him watch as she simply unhooks the front of her top, getting it off in mere seconds. She can’t tell if his eyes widen because the solution is that simple, or because he sees her fully naked.

Either way, Calum doesn’t waste time. His hands slide down to cup her thighs and Dee doesn’t need a clue to jump. Before she knows it, she’s sitting on the hard counter and Calum is rummaging through the top drawer and pulling out a comically large box of condoms. Dee can’t even say anything, even though her lips curve into a lopsided grin, because right after taking out one foil pack, Calum’s back on her, kissing her neck and collarbone. She holds him by the nape of the neck, guiding it where she wants his lips the most, while he pulls down his boxers and tries to put on the condom.

“Shit, Calum,” she gasps when he enters her in one smooth motion, the way he penetrates her so swiftly is almost painful.

Dee lets go of his hair, allowing him to finally look up at her. His eyes are just as dazed as hers, lips swollen from the kisses and just like she suspected, the hue of her red lipstick across his face. He straightens up, leaning his forehead against hers, grabbing her hips to steady her on the dresser when the first thrust comes.

She’s a mess, her makeup smudged and hair in a complete disarray, sticking out in different directions. She’s pretty sure her claws are leaving marks on his shoulder from how hard she’s gripping him, but Calum doesn’t say a word. His breath comes out as pants as his cock drives into her in precise, strong movement, hips snapping as if measured by the clock. And then there’s his eyes, fixated on her face, that completely disarm the way Dee would usually watch herself. Her whimpers morph into moans, and her lips fall open at a particularly powerful thrust, eyes fixated on him, only on him.

Calum doesn’t slow down; yes, his movements get painfully slow every so often but that’s when she feels him in every cell of her body, making it, if anything, even more intense. He has to do this a lot, hook up, and there’s no shame in it but Dee can’t help but wonder if it’s this frenzied and rushed with every girl, if he wants them all the same.

That’s why going home with a guy is a dangerous territory — he looks at her once and Dee starts imagining too much. It rarely happens, but when it does, it’s always such a let down. From experience, she knows that there’s always an aspect of her that scares that person away, and no matter how much desire can hide in one look, some things can’t be changed.

It’s not only the look in his eyes that makes Dee’s brain go foggy. It’s the praise he whispers in between them every time she reacts to his movements stronger, it’s the tiny wet kisses he lives on her shoulder whenever she bites her lip and tries to act like his words aren’t turning her on even more.

Between you’re so fucking perfect and come for me, princess, Dee actually feels the pleasure build up in her stomach. The hand holding his shoulder grips it even harder, nails digging into his skin even more, and the other one finds his hand on her hip and guides it to her apex, where her throbbing clit is waiting for some attention. She knows it’s all it will take for the climax to wash over her like a wave, and feeling how sloppy Calum’s thrusts have gotten, it doesn’t seem like he will last much longer. Everything happens so fast, the room filled with their moans and the sounds of two sweaty bodies slapping against each other. The dresser Dee sits on creaks quietly every so often, but it would need to actually break for them to notice.

Just like she expects, the orgasm hits Dee with a blinding force, making a moan die in her throat. Her legs shake from the intensity of it, and Calum, who keeps on moving, prolonging her pleasure, doesn’t help. One of her legs wraps around his hip to force him closer, and soon enough, she can feel Calum spill into the condom, his body crushing her against the wall when he spontaneously loses all his strength.

“Wow,” she mutters, giggling. One of her hands comes up to tangle into his curls and stroke them in a calming motion, his hot breath caressing her exposed skin.

“Definitely a wow,” he admits after a couple seconds, slowly standing back up. Even though his body straightens, he stays inside her, his cock still half-hard even after the release. “I chose the right girl at the bar,” he teases, his own hand brushing the unruly strands of Dee’s fringe out of her eyes.

“Glad I could be the consolation prize.” Her smile doesn’t expose that Dee actually means it, and Calum doesn’t know her well enough to catch the conviction in her tone. Still, he opens his mouth as if meaning to say something, but she’s faster. “I’ll clean up and get out of your hair,” she promises.

“Um, sure.” Calum looks thrown off, the words falling off his lips mechanically.

He pulls out, and gives Dee some space while going to the bathroom to get rid of the condom. He doesn’t usually do that, one night stands are not his thing anymore, mostly because he has always been more attracted to the banter rather than how the person looks. He can’t deny that Dee is attractive, in a way, definitely unconventional, and in any other circumstance, he would love to see her again. Except she seems to be much more in her element, and he doesn’t want to come across as too clingy.

When they decided to go out, nobody was fully on board with the idea, but it seemed fitting. In between tours, life would get stagnant, and every so often someone would propose a night out and everyone else would hesitantly get on board. Not that there was something wrong with drinking and having fun with your friends, but Calum liked it when life got borderline boring. He also loved his bandmates and playing music, but a part of him yearned for a quiet life. The months when he would go back to Australia and nobody knew where exactly he was were the most calm, and somewhere along the way, he started chasing that same simplicity in LA.

They walked into the club, the one they frequented most often, and sat in their usual booth. What he told Dee is true; Gigi caught his attention a few minutes later when he watched them down two shots each at the bar. He commented on it, with some intention to approach her later, after the alcohol left a pleasant buzz in his system and the guys got lost in conversation. For the time being, he felt completely content with just tracing her moves, hoping she would notice his burning gaze and that someone’s interest was piqued.

Everything changed when Gigi walked up to their table. Calum was perplexed that the one woman who caught his eye actually decided to speak to them, or rather, as he foolishly anticipated, him. A few times, he caught her looking at their table, getting in his head that she did notice him looking and was, in a way, flirting with the idea. His hopes rose high as she slid into the booth next to him, the pink flowy dress riding up on her thighs, and the sweet smell of her designer perfume pleasantly suffocating. He was getting ready to introduce himself, clearing his throat and trying to formulate the words in a way that would definitely charm her…

But, of course, she had eyes only for Luke. It wasn’t his fault, and Calum would never go around blaming him or calling him selfish, but Luke did tend to be a bit… naive. He assumed everything would be fine, because they’re friends, and maybe it was Calum’s fault, because he never really held him accountable. Why would he? Because girls preferred lead singers to bassists? But Luke always thought that just because the girls approached him, there won’t be any bad blood if he pursued them.

Maybe Calum was just petty, but multiple times, he denied a girl just because he knew that one of his friends had an eye for her. He didn’t expect that same loyalty, but sometimes, it did feel like a punch in the gut to see Luke get all the women he wanted, and especially the women Calum had any interest in.

He walks out of the bathroom, and Dee is just there, still standing next to the dresser in nothing but a pair of panties, her back turned to him. The corset top that caused him so much struggle is tucked under her arm together with the checkered skirt as she stares at her phone. Calum didn’t have the chance before, so he shamelessly observes the tattoo on the back of her body: from the vines of the thighs to intricate ornaments covering her back. Pulling on his briefs, he slowly approaches her and places his hands on her hips, only now remembering how short she truly is. He didn’t notice it until they left together, and quickly forgot when she started making out with him in the cab.

“Or you could stay,” he says in her ear, lips falling down on the crook of her neck and slowly tracing kisses to reach the earlobe, sucking on it. “I have some booze. And a comfortable t-shirt.”

“And a huge box of condoms?” Dee looks at him from above the Uber app, raising her brows, a mocking smile across her lips. Finally, she could comment on it, and Calum sees the pride in the simple tease. He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief.

It’s not like Dee didn’t catch his eye, or she was someone he would never, under usual circumstances, be interested in. Just, Gigi was the kind of girl who he was used to finding attractive. She looked like the Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella and all those other girls he saw while watching cartoons and Disney movies with Mali Koa. Tall, blonde, slim figure and skin pale the veins almost showed through; a definition of beauty from the media, but also his peers. The confidence she carried herself with made the impression even more letal. Her catwalk stride, head held high and perfectly equal steps, the sway of her hips, it almost created an archetype.

As soon as she started talking to Luke though, Calum knew there was no more hope. Especially since he didn’t even have to charm her; from sliding into their booth, Luke had her undivided attention. She even did the holy trinity — pouted, twirled a strand of her hair, tilted her hair. It’s like she came to serve herself on a platter for him, and if anything, that ruined the image Calum had in his head.

Usually, he would get discouraged when seeing that the girls fell for Luke’s easy charm. He couldn’t deny that his friend had a captivating way of being; after ten years of being on stage and doing interviews, it would be a shame if he didn’t. But seeing a girl fall for it was like watching your parents fall for an Internet scam. Not that Luke was a false advertisement, but he loved to use the one line that Calum wouldn’t tread very lightly— his fame. No surprise he could impress anyone talking about being in a band with millions of listeners; hell, Calum would probably fall for it too, if he didn’t know better. But he also cared for his hook ups, dates, call it what you want, to be there for him, out of simple attraction or even sympathy, and not because it would give them street credit or a story to tell.

“And a huge box of condoms,” he confirmed with a poker face, hand gliding up to cup her breast.

Luke and Gigi didn’t stay in the booth with the rest of them long, her cordial offer to go dance quickly agreed to by his friend. They disappeared, and Calum’s eyes followed them even through the dark and foggy club interior. The way Luke’s hands casually brushed her body, the way she grinded on him, the way they were whispering to each other. His hand clutched the glass a bit too tightly, and even when Ashton pointed out that he should just chill down and forget the girl existed, Calum would keep on glancing their way throughout the conversation. Soon enough, Michael needed to get home to help with the baby, and Ashton got lost while fetching drinks, undoubtedly in a conversation with someone more interesting than sulking Calum Hood.

It’s like he felt she observed them too, Calum’s eyes eventually falling on Dee. She sat at the bar on her very own, head propped on her hands, not even hiding that her attention was completely consumed by the couple. Two empty glasses in front of her, it looked like quite a slumber party, and Calum could only relate as he scanned her body. Across the room, he barely saw anything, and as he finished his own drink and registered that Luke and his new girl were getting off the dancefloor, he rose up with an intention to get a refill.

The decision to talk to her was impulsive; liking her wasn’t planned either, but it’s not like Calum fell in love at first sight. He expected awkwardness, and a lot of silence, but they immediately fell into a small talk that took him by surprise with its smoothness. Not that there was much of it, but from the first few seconds, he couldn’t deny that he felt a pull.

And where there’s a pull, there has to also be a push.

Now, he swallowed hard as Dee visibly considered his offer, a battle clearly happening behind her eyes. He hoped she would agree, even if to just go at it again, maybe savour it a bit more too. The thrill of their impromptu small-talk got him so excited that by the time they were done, he couldn’t remember anything beside the feeling of how good it felt. Calum wanted a chance to explore her body, trace every tattoo with his tongue and possibly get crushed by her thighs. If they ended up talking more afterwards, or during, he also wouldn’t be disappointed.

“Hm, under those circumstances, I could be convinced,” she purrs, leaning back into his arms. Calum gives himself an inner high-five, smiling against her skin. “But at least take me to bed this time around.”

“Oh, my bedroom is a sacred space. Once I let you in, I might not be able to let you out,” Calum mumbles between kisses, his neck hurting from leaning down to kiss her shoulder, but he has no plans to stop anytime soon.

Dee reaches behind, tangling her finger into the hair on his nape, pulling him closer, further down to her skin.

“That’s a future me problem.”

[writersdare]

5SOS ♡ Masterlist

Last update: 10.01.2025

Main Masterlist | Requests are temporary closed | Prompt List | Taglist | Recommendations | Angst Endings

♡ – readers' favourite; ♥︎ – the most popular 5SOS work

Luke Hemmings

The Last Time new Summary: It was rather naive of Luke to believe he wouldn’t grow a flaming sympathy for Y/N. Warning: fwb to lovers

Hold Me Tight Summary: Luke has been plagued by nightmares, but Y/N was always there for him. Warning: hurt/comfort, nightmares

Let Me Love You Summary: Luke knew it wasn’t his fault Y/N didn’t let him get any closer, but he just wished to know what he could do to make it better. Warning: angsty, trusting issues, mentioning of a breakup, the reader may have low self-esteem Two Gummy Worms ♡ Summary: Luke was determined to take Y/N on a night drive. Some things, though, didn’t want to go according to his perfect plan. Warning: friends to lovers, fluff, mentioning of food

He Called Her a Fairy Summary: No matter how excited Luke was to go on tour, it was always too heartbreaking to say goodbye to Y/N. However, that parting was worth going through to meet again. Warning: hurt/comfort, angsty

Eyes Can Speak Too Summary: Being blinded by the feelings for each other, Luke and Y/N didn’t see the obvious things. Warning: friends to lovers, angst, trusting issues, a bit of cursing and mentioning of alcohol

Sweeter Than Honey Summary: Spending a simple evening with Y/N, Luke realised she was always his happy place. Warning: fluff

Baby Girl Summary: Even in Y/N’s darkest times, Luke was always there to guide her to the light. Warning: hurt/comfort, disordered eating

Why Won’t You Love Me Summary: Luke and Y/N broke up after a few months of dating so they could at least remain friends, but seemed like it didn’t ease the pain. Warning: angst, fluff, a bit of cursing and mentioning of alcohol

Never Doubt Me Summary: A date, it would seem, could not get any worse, but then Luke remembered a painful rumour he heard about Y/N. Warning: argument

No Longer Together Summary: Trying to move on from a breakup, Luke and Y/N found each other at the same room, playing “spin the bottle”. Warning: College!AU, angst, mention of alcohol and a breakup

More coming...

Ashton Irwin

Keep It Quiet ♡ Summary: Ashton and Y/N kept their relationship a secret for a while, but one interview made the things a little complicated. Warning: none

Give Me Attention Summary: Ashton and Y/N had been friends for a while. However, everything changed once she found out an unpleasant secret he thought to hide from her. Warning: angst, an intimate moment, a bit of cursing and mentioning of alcohol

More coming...

Michael Clifford

Don’t Be a Stranger Summary: The tour was over, and Michael and Y/N finally met again. Both were uncertain who they were to each other after months being apart. Warning: slight angst

Calum Hood

Ghost of You Summary: It had been four months of silence between Calum and Y/N. Could she finally move on?  Warning: angst All Too Well Summary: It’s the first time ever when Calum and Y/N didn’t need to be apart, as they were going on tour together. However, things could never just be perfect, could they? Warning: angst, fluff, a bit of cursing

Strawberry Jam Summary: The winter holidays were simply the best for both Calum and Y/N, especially when a heating problem in their house occurred. Warning: fluff, friends to lovers

Password Is Your Birthday ♡♥︎ Summary: Y/N never doubted Calum’s loyalty, however, once controversial photos were leaked, their relationship was put to the test. Warning: angsty, mention of alcohol

Paris Broke My Heart Part 1 | Part 2 Summary: Calum knew he’d lose Y/N each time she’d start a new relationship, but that time it was different. She was leaving the country, maybe forever. Warning: 18+ (non-detailed smut), angst, fluff, friends to lovers, cursing and mentioning of alcohol

More coming...

– photo is obv not mine and belongs to the rightful owner –

© writersdare | all rights reserved

All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡

[aussiexlovexaffair]

this is my teenage dirtbag bf if you even care ;p

[ughkat]

ur camera roll if michael was ur boyfriend ❥

[bartxnhood]

5sos masterlist

calum hood

older | fluff; in which the two of you share a personal moment together.

broken pieces | angst & fluff; calum let's distance grow between the two of you, afraid of what you would think if you knew how he was feeling.

boat boy | fluff; in which you meet calum on an accidental run in, thanks to your crazy pup. things take a turn for the best.

beside you | fluff ; while calum is on tour, you often send him videos of your daily life while he's gone. until you stop randomly and work on a surprise for him

you don't go to parties | calum hood x reader ; angst ; you're sick of being a celebrity's girlfriend. sick of the parties, all of it. it was bullshit

need you now | angst ; fluff ending; calum wonders if you think about him as much as he thinks about you.

sorrys never enough | angst : you're betrayed again by your boyfriend, who just can't seem to keep his promise

luke hemmings:

end up here I angst; luke has let his work consume him, leaving you alone for weeks on end. you finally snap.

place in me | angst and fluff; in which luke realizes the pain and suffering he's caused, he makes a promise to himself to fix everything. he wants to be the better man for you.

magic | fluff; before a show, luke is struggling with his makeup. he asks you for help.

please try again | angst ; comfort; luke has always been there for you, even when you were at your worst.

teardrops on my guitar | ; angst ; your feelings for your friend go unnoticed, but one night you finally told the world how you felt through your music.

wanna be yours | slow burn ; luke had his eyes on you from the moment you met him so, it killed him when you couldn't take the hint that he was in love with you.

it’s not over | requested.

michael clifford:

complete |; fluff; you surprise michael after his long tour, all he's been wanting is you.

fall shenanigans | ; fluff; carving pumpkins with michael

ashton irwin:

locked inside | ; fluff ; the two of you get snowed it. which means: snowballs, snow angels, and snowmen.

dear devoted delicate I fluff; ashton knew from the first time he met you, you were the one for him.

why wont you love me? | angst : after finding out calum had left you, ashton came to your rescue but he had his own secret

complete mess | requested

[carryonafi]

blood on the drums.

ashton irwin x reader; SMUT!!!🔞

a/n: HELLO MY LOVELIES!!! gosh it’s been so long, life has been chaotic and yes i’m still alive HAHA. but hey… this one’s been cooking for a while and this is the second au ive done!! my bae @souperbloom gave me some amazing WWE insight and i just needed to write some dirty wrestler ashton. so this is truly for the girlies who get it. i’ve missed yall, enjoy!!

words: 2.9k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

SMACK

A gasp tore through your throat, watching Ashton stumble back to the rubber barriers of the ring and when he lifted his hand to his head, there was a mess of red everywhere. That horrible screeching ring of the bell going wild and signaling the end of the match had your fists balled at your sides

“Ashton!” You shrieked, running up each platform and entering the ring. The crowd seemed to ripple in cheers and shouts of surprise and excitement from left to right, all the way around the ring until you made it to Ashton’s side. Adrenaline pounded through your chest, getting down on your knees beside him and shooting a flaming, angry glare at his opponent. It took everything in you not to storm off and beat the shit out of him, but there were rules, you needed to abide by them.

“Are you okay?” You whispered, meeting the gaze of your boyfriend which was dazed and unfocused as you helped him sit up. Security was everywhere, cameras were on you, people watching were muttering angrily and shouting profanities at the intense turn of the match. Your shaking hands moved to cup his face, pinky pressed against his pulse point which was pumping rapidly.

“Yeah, fuck — ‘m fine.” Ashton breathed, wiping his bloodied nose on the back of his hand and letting you help him into a sitting position. Your heart hammered ruthlessly against your rib cage, not a single thing on your mind other than Ashton’s wellbeing as he swayed a little upon getting to his feet. Your arms looped around his waist. The unusual hesitation in his movements and the way Ashton seemed to think about every single step was more than concerning.

“Here, c’mon…” You hoisted his arm around your shoulders, the sheerness of sweat on him slicked your shoulders and hair which was messily tied back and falling out of its done-up style. Ashton leaned into you heavily, bringing a bit of irritance into your eyes. He just wouldn’t stand on his own— you had to basically push him the rest of the way down and into the right backstage door.

“We should get you some water or something, you look…”

Which was where he completely cut the act.

Ashton looked at you with a shit-eating grin, the blood from his nose trickling down to his mouth as he flashed you his teeth.

“I really fuckin’ got ya, didn’t I?!” He nudged you aggressively, making you snarl and almost immediately shove him off of you.

“What’re you talking about?” You snapped, glaring at Ashton with expectancy.

“Oh my god, Y/N — You really thought I was gonna pass out.” He laughed loudly, the sound grating to your ears. Seriously… you wanted to rip the fucking tape off of his knuckles with less care than you ever could’ve imagined.

“No! I didn’t! I was just playing my part!” You stammered, the heat of the moment quickly showing in your cheeks which you tried to play off as exhaustion, but there was no way in hell Ashton was letting you live it like that.

This ‘relationship’ which was set up by the script writers clearly had no thoughts taken to personal relationships, and not that it should, it was just a bit unfair that you had to be all sickly loving to the guy who you found painful to be around.

Ashton was still laughing, near tears to the point where he had to stop in his tracks and catch his breath. You leaned against the wall, nostrils flared up in shame and embarrassment as you stared him down.

“Are you done yet?” You muttered under the sounds of his laughter, Ashton pressed his sweaty back to the opposite wall and his cheeks stuck in a smile with broken giggles.

“No. no. Absolutely not, I’m not done.” He sighed heavily, still trying to catch his breath. The blood from the exaggerated blows had run down his neck, making a sick lightning trail of red which made you cringe. Ashton reached for a bottle of water on the table, carelessly cracking it open while staring dead at your face.

“What?” His eyebrows quirked, the angry little quirk of your lip, he found quite adorable.

“I’m trying to be angry. Stop talking.” You blinked at the way his body glistened, blood trickling in one smooth, flawless line down his chest and matting up in the section of hair in the upper center.

“Trying?” He hummed, tossing the water bottle into the recycling after slamming nearly all of it due to how much he had just exerted himself. Ashton’s eyes were back to boring into your face, the way your brows furrowed and how your lips formed a tight line as you held your tongue.

His face was so fucking annoying, his perfect eyebrows, sweaty skin and hair clinging desperately to his forehead. His chest heaved with every single breath now bated with laughter all while still feeling the adrenaline, it made your jaw tick.

“Never mind.” You snapped, oddly enough, as much as you avoided the blood the more he seemed to become insufferable again. Ashton groaned loudly, like he just lost a sibling fight. A pathetic child who thought he had you where he wanted you.

“Do you know how I feel about you?” Ashton jogged after you as you started to walk away again, your boots clicking aggressively along the tile floor. There were crew and doors, muffled music and crowd roaring which started to piss you off even more.

“Why would I care?” You added with a scoff, nearly ripping the hair tie out of your hair and letting the strands stick to your shoulders. One door seemed like a good choice, so you quickly swerved to the left and ended up in an empty dressing room with a sofa in the corner next to some lit up vanities. This wasn’t like the usual locker rooms, this was for real performances.

Once you turned around to face Ashton again, he looked angry as well which honestly caught you by surprise. “What?” You asked, looking at each frown line on his face and narrowing your eyes at him like he was acting a fool.

“You would never know what pisses me off about you.” Ashton shook his head, taking a few steps towards you and feeling satisfied with the way you stepped back. “Why would you care what I think, huh? Would it hurt you that badly to have a thought for anyone else?” He responded in the tone you were using earlier, and goddamn, something about him standing up like this was hotter than he looked.

“I do give a thought for other people, just not you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t fucking know, Ashton!” You threw your hands up, heels hitting the wall on your last step and his shadow loomed over you. “You’re annoying, all you do is bug me when I’m clearly not in the mood. You want to talk about thinking of other people? Pick up on the clues, idiot! Read the room!”

The arguing stopped, now it was just silence. Your breath on his and it all caught up to you again, the blush on your face started to mirror the dried blood thriving on his skin. There was a sudden, rough warmth on your hip which made your gaze snap towards it. Ashton’s hand was on you, sending a realization in the form of goosebumps all over your body. When you looked back up at Ashton, he was smiling that stupid cocky smile again.

“Y’wanna know what else pisses me off?” He spoke, pausing as if you would say something or perhaps react to how low his voice could get. “You can’t admit that you want me too.”

Too? Who did he think he was?

You shoved Ashton’s chest, not very hard… just a playful little shove as you tried to keep up your act. “You’re so humble.” You rolled your eyes, getting cut off by another hand on your chin, holding you in place as Ashton collected your lips in a tense and searing kiss. Relief. Sweet, intense relief.

That was one thing you couldn’t deny, you felt so relieved and it made your jaw significantly less tight.

“Am I reading the room correctly?” Ashton whispered against your mouth, ready for another hard smack… which he definitely received. Straight in the chest again.

“You’re lucky I didn’t kick you in the dick.” You whispered back, the tone soft despite the snarky comment.

“Why? You want it that badly and don't want to hurt it?” Ashton started to grin again, but this time it wasn’t that painful. The hand that was on your hip moved to the small of your back, calloused thumb gently caressing your bare skin. His words had you fumbling for a response, it wasn’t that witty, but everything about the last few minutes had your brain turned into mush.

“Fuck off!” You blushed, swallowing down your nerves and watching Ashton’s expression quickly shift to one of possession. You could see that light bulb above his head.

“Yeah?” He breathed, eyes challenging as you nodded and pressed yourself firmly against the wall. “Be that way, then.” Ashton muttered, the hand on your hip gripped tightly and his other swiftly trailed down the front of your skirt to lift it up.

“Ashton,” You cut yourself off as his hand moved between your legs, his eyes silently asking for permission as his thumb moved in slow circles over the fabric of your panties. Instead, you gave him a smile back. “Do what you want.”

There was that nasty grin again, Ashton chuckled and pressed a wet kiss to your cheek. “Sick.” He nodded, now using both hands to tear your panties down which ripped a gasp out of your throat. Now he had gotten all the green lights he needed, allowing the fabric to slip down to your ankles and catch on your tall boots.

It was unpredictable and such a blur, Ashton’s eyes had a bright sparkle of lust and wonder as his fingers dug into the softness of your upper thighs and hips, roughly guiding you to turn around and press your body against the wall. Your breathing had become labored, but Ashton wasn’t one to care. He quickly tugged your skirt up to expose your bare ass, and if only you could see the look on his face… but he wasn’t wasting time.

“This wet, all for me, baby?” He spoke against your hair, breath hot as he ran his fingertip between the slick folds and plunged deep inside once he met your entrance.

“Sh.. Shut up, you’re lucky.” You gasped, turning your head a little, but unable to see him very well. Ashton laughed from behind you.

“Still keepin’ this thing up, huh?” He said right next to your ear, giving himself another challenge as he pushed another finger inside of you. You were about to reply, but clearly, your act wasn’t going to be kept up for long.

Ashton had you pathetically moaning out into the nearly empty room, trying your hardest to keep yourself quiet since these walls weren’t very thick. He knew just the right spot, his fingers were long and rough, curled in just the right spots which drove you further and further towards the edge — until the sensation disappeared.

“Why’d you stop?” You whined, that voice… that didn’t sound like you at all.

“You want more of me, don't you?” He replied, in a tone that was unfamiliar to you as well. It was rough and husky, urgent and just as needy as you.

That was something you yet again, couldn’t deny. You swallowed down the lump in your throat and waited, waited… the silence started to ring in your ears and it became too much. Way too much.

“What are you doing?” You snapped, Ashton was standing behind you, clueless only for a moment until he grinned again.

“Hold on, hold on… tryna’ get a plan.” He mumbled, time broke when he finally moved forward and slowly guided you to turn around. As if you couldn’t do it on your own.

“Okay,” You breathed, disoriented eyes meeting that calculated stare as both of his arms hooked up under your thighs.

“Jump.”

It wasn’t a second thought, there was nothing holding you back from immediately following his orders and wrapping your arms around Ashton’s neck. You hopped up and his forearms flexed beneath your thighs, hooking them around his waist as he maneuvered the fabric around his own body to let his cock spring free.

Your breath coming out in short pants, you tried not to look down and instead stared straight into his green eyes which had morphed into a fury of lust and control fighting over one another. His body pressed yours as far as it would go to the wall, making your heart pound like this was your own match and you were just seconds from the end.

“Do you really fuckin’ want this, huh?” Ashton glared at you, but it wasn’t a harmful glare. It was hungry and feral. The only response he needed was a nod, fingers abusing the curve of your hips as his head dropped forward. He was looking straight down between your bodies, sweaty and bloody, letting himself gently nudge your wetness and drawing a whimper from the back of your throat. There was no control over your own body.

Your thighs were already burning from the effort, nails digging into Ashton’s shoulders and back as he only pushed himself further. It was a quiet mess of heavy breathing, soft grunts and light gasping… then it changed. His hips snapped forward aggressively which made you yelp in response, Ashton’s name just on the tip of your tongue as you bit down on your lip to stay quiet.

“Shit, fuck—“ He huffed, jaw ticking in concentration as he just let go. Ashton figured that if he had already lost it, there was no going back with that rough rock of his hips. His thrusts were near reckless, paying no mind to the sound of lockers and the uncertainty of whether or not the two of you would be heard. It was clear that you felt the same way, holding back was no longer an option as you cried out and grasped for any part of his sweat-slick body. It was his shoulders which faced the abuse and left him hissing with each drag of your nails.

“Gonna make me fuckin’ bleed, for real, ain’t ya?” He growled, his eyes boring into yours through the sweaty waves that fell in front of his forehead.

“Y.. Yeah, no props,” You stammered out the best reply manageable, gasping in pleasure and eyelids fluttering closed as Ashton found that spot.

“Fuckin’ look at me.” He spat, accompanied with a rough slap to your thigh, and not that it caught you off guard, but it did make your eyes widen right as he would have wanted them to. “Y’look like a real slut.” Ashton smiled, the pace of his thrusts slowing to a rough grind instead of the desperate abandon he had started with.

“God—“ You choked out, cursing under your breath with each tremble of your body. Body language was speaking for you, the quivering of your bottom lip and how even after this command, your eyes fell shut again.

“Go on, yeah… look at that.” He licked his lips, his eyes scanning frantically over your body as your release hit you like a truck. Ashton had the decency to let you ride it out slowly, becoming spent himself and pulling out to make a quick mess of your bare midriff. It was over about as soon as it started, your mind a bit hazy and confused with all of the events whirling around trying to make some sense of itself. The frenzy which had taken over Ashton died down, he carefully helped you to stand but kept a hand on your hip just in case the support of your jelly-like legs wasn’t enough.

“So…” You said softly, voice hoarse with way too much effort. Ashton’s eyes turned soft again, the way you had seen them a few moments ago.

“So.” He chuckled, but you shook your head.

“No, no… that was just one time, wasn’t it?” You asked, but it sounded like you were trying to convince yourself of the words you spoke. Ashton’s face fell a bit, blinking increased as he shrugged his shoulders.

“If you’d like it to be, I mean, that was kinda’ spur of the moment type shit.” Ashton was trying to act as himself, huffing out a laugh which didn’t quite make the cut and instead broke down the nonchalance of his act.

“I’m..” For the first time you were speechless, unsure of your feelings and the internal battle which was currently taking place. His hand was on your hip, but gentle. Gentle and steady, not something you two were used to. “Would you be mad if I said I needed to think?”

You had never seen his face light up so quickly, like there was a bit of childlike hope in his eyes as he nodded. “God no, absolutely not. Take your time, however long you need.” He laughed again, not strained at all.

However, the way that he had responded had you pretty sure that your mind was made already. As well as the way he helped you get dressed, used his own towel from his bag to clean up and walked you out through the back doors of the event to avoid being seen. There was no more thinking to be done, that was not a one-time thing.

[passthe5sos]

Hi guys I’m KayKay or KK whichever is fine! I wanna start writing stuff for 5sos cause it’s the year of 5sos, so here’s a bit about me!

Age: 18

Birthday: march 14, 2006 (Pisces!!)

Fav boy: Michael ofc

Fav album: tied between 5sos self titled and youngblood

Fav songs: (not in order) heartbreak girl, voodoo doll, disconnected, good girls, waste the night, vapor, broken home, valentine, jet black heart, over and out, Babylon, why won’t you love me, more, monster among men, high, lover of mine, older, wildflower, best years, easy for you to say, you don’t go to parties, lie to me, waste the night

Least fav songs: (not in any order) money, lighter, girls talk boys, hey everybody… sorry

Other singers I like: the 1975, Sabrina carpenter, nessa barrett, lana del rey, Gracie Abram’s, Taylor swift, and lots more

Other songs I like: keep your eyes on me boy: nessa barrett!!!!!!!, constellations: jade lemac, out of Oklahoma: Lainey Wilson, collide: Rachel Platten, sex: the 1975, honest: Hanne møjen,the entire badlands album by Halsey + so much more

Second fav: changes daily

Fav Michael hair color: idk why but I go feral over Michael’s really short darkish blue hair (pictured below)

Fav Luke solo song: bloodline, mum

Fav Ashton solo song: breakup, California holds her breath, last night of my life, heart shaped box cover 🫠😩

Fav unreleased: wrapped around your finger, try hard, I can’t remember, teenage queen, midnight

Fav cover: stay originally by post Malone was TOO GOOD and also killer queen originally by queen ofc is too good as well

Fav feature: the chainsmokers always (I wish they collabed with one d that would’ve been an unstop song, I fear they were already overworked, underpaid, and unfed tho)

And yes, I am @nosebleedsturn lol.

Like idk WHY this made me a Michael girl but I’m glad it did. Anyway, uhm let’s be besties now!!

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Hi there...I understand you're taking requests 👀. Could I please get an Ashton Irwin x reader friends to lovers? Maybe he confesses his feelings to reader who feels the same but doesn't think they should be together because he has to go on tour (distance). But they end up together with some smut. I hope you can write this one, if not I understand. Thanks so much 😊

Hi, thanks for dropping a request. I hope you enjoy it doesn't get steamy, if I'm honest. I hope that's okay. If it's a problem, please let me know!

Requests are open briefly until the 24th. Any NSFW content (smut, etc) must be requested off anon to ensure no minors (those 17 and below) are requesting the content.

Feel free to look through my masterlist for more. You can submit a request through my asks.

________________________________

It’s a tradition, one that you’d personally be damned in trying to pinpoint when it had grown into such. But lack of clarity on its inception doesn’t undermine the tradition that brings you here, two nights before the tour sitting across from Ashton. He’s giggling at his own story, napkin clutched into one of his hands. Your cheeks hurt from how much you’ve been smiling and laughing at it as well. You and Ashton are always here two nights before any tour with dinner. Whether he cooks, or you cook, or you eat out--it doesn’t matter. The two of you make sure to set time aside for each other regardless. 

“I’m so serious,” Ashton giggles. “Guy straight up offered fifty bucks for the t-shirt I was literally wearing. Right off my back.”

“The real question,” you start, setting your bottle down after your sip, “is did you actually give this rando your shirt off your back for fifty bucks?”

Ashton’s smile changes, the bright honey curve of his lips morphs into something softer and more mischievous. “I got a good lunch afterwards though.”

“Ashton!” you scold, tufts of laughter bubbling from your chest. You know the possibility always exists with Ashton. It would be hard to imagine that he wouldn’t do something just for the story of it. 

“I didn’t take the cash! But he treated me to lunch, since I did sort of give him the shirt off my back.”

“You didn’t sort of do anything,” you huff, finishing off the last pieces of your food. Ashton’s plate sits with just another bite or two of the pasta. Somehow the food’s gone faster than you two have even calculated for, but that won’t stop you. With the settling evening, Ashton’s backyard is a comfortable solace, a nice place to rest for a little. 

“Guilty as charged,” Ashton returns. He scrapes up the last of his food as the conversation lulls for a moment. He watches though, the way you stare up and behind him, like your mind’s taken you to places behind the court of his house. “But how’s work? For you?” 

You’d asked Ashton how his life was going and it sent him spiraling. He can go a mile a minute but he’s never far from always checking in on you. You shrug at Ashton’s question. Your life has fallen a little mundane though your work is anything but. 

You’d fallen into Ashton’s world when he frequented the record shop you worked out in the last year of your master’s program. You needed the cash on the side. Though the days were long between school, work, and homework, you found a little slice of quiet in that shop. It was a local gem, hidden in the debris of a crumbling shopping center. But locals knew the record shop well and would take the hike to unearth the treasure. 

Ashton was one of those locals. He spotted you as you placed prices on new arrivals and asked if anything specific came in worth looking for. You shrugged in response, but lifted out some limited edition vinyls with a yawn. You’re not sure what joke you made specifically, but it was enough. Ashton laughed like his life depended on it and more and more he came into the shop. You two exchanged names, then numbers, growing closer and closer as time passed. In just a year, you could tell that Ashton was going to be someone important in your life. You’d never imagine the scale, and still can’t. But you told yourself even if Ashton was there for a season it would be spring and bring forth all sorts of new life. 

Now, you’re four and half years into your friendship and it still grows and grows. You’ve left the record shop, settling into talent management and running in leagues adjacent to Ashton’s. It’s not the most glamorous job on the planet, but it pays the bills. The only downside to the field is that drama from others becomes your drama just by association. You have to get in the dirt sometimes as much as you definitely didn’t want to. And Ashton knows how much you dislike some of the aspects of your job. 

“Is that a shrug that means same old, same old? Or is that a shrug that means big shit?” Ashton questions. “I’d hazard a guess closer to the latter.”

“You win another year of friendship,” you laugh, finally focusing your gaze back on Ashton. His honey eyes are melting with concern as he gazes up at you. It makes your stomach flutter and you hate the feeling. Hate that the two of you were always dancing. 

“I wasn’t worried for a second about that. You’re stuck with me. It’s in the contract.”

“I signed no such thing,” you tease. “I need to see that one.”

“It’s written in invisible ink,” Ashton snorts. “But seriously, what’s wrong? Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s just a mess.” You’re not supposed to get into specifics, but it’s never once stopped you when it came to Ashton. “It’s sensitive information really and not something I want to spread around even if it’s to safe ears.”

Ashton nods. “I’m sure you see and hear a lot of shit.” He knows you’re working specifically with someone up and coming. They’re young and if Ashton knows anything from his younger years, it’s that trouble comes with freedom and excitement. Some mistakes though just need to be learned the hard way. So Ashton assumes it’s something big for you to even keep it quiet. 

“Too much shit. We’re talking with lawyers,” you divulge. 

Ashton whistles. He’s no stranger to lawyers but he knows that when they get into the mix it gets messy fast. But they aren’t there for no reason, no little reason that is. “Fuck. Is this like…criminal?”

You shake your head. “It’s technically a civil matter but it could easily get criminal with my client’s hothead.”

“You’ve mentioned that before,” Ashton comments. Once before the two of you were catching up over lunch and your phone rang. Not the first time Ashton’s been inside a police station but it is the first time he’s been in one where he thought a crime might happen right next to an officer. To say he thought you could spit fire that day is not eloquent enough for your rage. “Well, I hope it doesn't get criminal. I know it’s gotta be a nightmare for you though. You’ve only been working with them for what? 6 months?”

“Eight,” you correct, “but it’s not long enough to be dealing with lawyers on a first name basis.”

Ashton reclines into his seat, arms folded over his chest. You rest your cheek against the flat of your knuckles, elbows resting on the table. Though you’re smiling, Ashton knows just how unamused you are at the situation. “How long have you been dealing with this situation?”

“Two months? Maybe a little less, but like we’re about to get the two month mark.”

“God damn.” 

You can only nod, a hum leaving your throat. “Yeah, but that’s boring and a buzzkill.” 

Ashton doesn’t miss the way you spin the bottle of alcohol free beer in a circle. He laughs but nods. “Fine, fine. Want another?”

“No, no, I’m good. You excited for this tour?” Ashton hadn’t talked it about in the same way he had the others. He adored what he was doing. He spoke passionately about the tour. But you were fuzzy on some details. Normally, he was brimming with every twist and turn the tour had. He’d trip over himself to tell you. You hate to think it was somehow a sign--that maybe Ashton’s retracting. 

Ashton’s nod is fast and hard. You watch him, eyes dropping from you to the green glass bottle in his hands. “I’m very excited. But I don’t want to spoil it,” he offers. It’s soft and you think that the words are somehow going to crumble onto his lap. 

“What do you mean spoil it?” you question. You don’t want to start pointing fingers and claiming that he’s not telling you things like before. You don’t want Ashton to go onto the defense. 

“I-it’s so silly,” he laughs. 

“No, I’m sure it’s not silly,” you offer. 

“But it is. I just-I kind of want you just to see it without me telling you anything about it beforehand. I know I normally tell you everything but this time I just want this to be a surprise.”

“Want me to go in blind, Irwin? Trying to give me a heart attack? I’m supposed to have insider knowledge, you know?”

He smiles again. For that, you’re grateful. “No, you do. I’m sure you have more than enough insider knowledge. I just--” His words fall short. He loves telling you everything. God, Ashton loves sharing his world with you. It makes him smile to see you smile. He wants to be there, when he can be, for you. When he can’t be, he wants to know that he’s still one of the first people you call even through the distance. And he does know it. When you got offered a position with the management company, you called Ashton mere minutes after the email came through. When Ashton nailed a drumline, he’d ensure you got to hear the initial take or two. 

But there’s something different about this--he wants to watch you when everything comes unraveled. It’s unlike anything else they’ve done. He wants the show to keep some of its magic. That and he wants to keep an excuse to see you again. You visit during the hometown shown normally and you still plan to this time. But he’s hoping to convince you to visit at least one other show too. Because no two shows are exactly alike. 

“Are you sure you can only make it to the LA show?” Ashton questions, finally looking up at you. 

You pause, nails picking at the label and the label scrunches just a little with your work. “I might be in Dallas too.”

“Really? You mean that, no bullshit?”

You shrug, your own lips failing to hold back your smile. Ashton catches on though and pushes up in his seat. His plate scratches over the top of the table as his forearms move it to the side. Your skin warms. It’s not embarrassment, it’s not even fear or shyness. You just feel alive in a way that only Ashton seems to make possible. You hold up your hands to slow his roll before it’s begun. “I’m supposed to be working the night before but I extended my stay by a couple days.”

“I’ll take it. I’ll take it easily.” Ashton reaches for your hands. Your palms are softer to the touch and it’s not lost on Ashton how the hairs on his arm stand up at your touch--electric in ways that he’s sure he can’t be alone in. When he looks up through his lashes, your gaze is dropped down to your intertwined fingers. Your fingers stroke gently over the top of his hands, over his knuckles. 

“You’re such a sap,” you tease softly. 

“I’ll have you know that I don’t care,” Ashton hums. His bones are melting at your touch. 

“You all packed up yet?” Ashton’s not necessarily a last minute packer, but he does occasionally cut it down to the wire. More than one of your pre-tour dinners has ended with Ashton needing to pack up his suitcase. It almost feels like it wouldn’t be a tradition without that fact. 

Ashton shakes his head, tracing the veins on the top of your hands now. It’s a dance, your hands trading who leads and who waits. “Stylist got the show outfits last week. Everything else is sitting around the suitcase waiting for your magic touch.”

“Oh, c’mon,” you laugh. “You taught me how to pack!”

“And I must say I may be one heck of a teacher, but I swear I almost miss something without you.” He pouts at you, lower lip rolling out. 

You roll your eyes but tap at Ashton’s forearms. “You clean up the dishes and get me another beer and I’ll get started.” You’d cooked over at Ashton’s place. Your apartment doesn't have the appropriate kitchen space and you hate how cramped it can feel, so Ashton offered up his place. 

Ashton squeezes at your forearms in response, “Thank you. Dishes will be squeaky clean.” 

It’s all the two of you need before you push away from the table, plates and bottles in hand, and carry on back inside of the house. The floors are cool against your feet and the house echoes in a way that lets you know all is silent. Ashton most often keeps music playing, saying it makes the place feel lived in. You’re not sure how it can’t feel lived in. Ashton’s couch is covered in blankets, walls lined with plaques and photographs. The living room is a bit echoey as it opens up into the kitchen more directly, but there’s plenty of life, if anyone was to ask you.

You set your dishes on the counter next to the sink, listening to the click of the ceramic meeting the marble. “One of these days you’re going to have to pack yourself,” you tease. 

Ashton closes the door to the fridge with his hip, holding two bottles in hand. “Don’t you dare say that. You’ll always be my pack checker.” He wants to say more, wants to say the reason you’ll always be there is because you’ll be with him. Forever might be a scary concept, but he wants to see what that could look like with you. Though if Ashton puts anything more than friends out there and you shoot him down, it’ll shatter him. 

He’d recover, he knows. But it’s selfish. He’d rather not have to lose you or hurt himself like that. 

“Hmm, my tax might get higher,” you tease, sliding the bottle opener off the counter. 

“I’d pay it in a heartbeat,” Ashton huffs. And as the two of you get closer, you reaching for the bottle, Ashton wishes he’d just be more direct. He really ought too. He wants to tell you but also worries that it might break everything. 

You work loose the top to both bottles. “That’s a lot of game, Irwin. Let’s see if you can back it up.” 

“Promise, I can.”

Only a hum leaves your throat before your sip pauses you. “I’ll be upstairs packing your suitcase.”

“Thank you!” he calls out as you push towards the stairs. 

“Yeah, yeah, just pay up, Irwin.”

Ashton watches your exit, the stairs taking you further and further from sight. It feels like it’s bubbling up his chest. All the words he’s held onto for years. But if he’s going to be honest, this might be the most selfish thing he’s going to embark on.

You sigh as you enter Ashton’s bedroom. His closet door is open, suitcase splayed on the floor. Inside of the case, you can see his toiletry bag, clothes stacked neatly inside and a couple pairs of shoes on the floor outside the cas. You assume this is all the stuff he’s taking with him on tour. It’s a scene you're familiar with, having grown fond of the ritual as well.

You can’t shake the soft echo of Ashton’s voice earlier, I’ll take it. 

It’s eating away at your tongue. What will Ashton take? It certainly couldn’t be just one extra show you’d catch. It certainly wasn’t that. But there was something desperate and earnest in his voice. You think it might mean more. You want it to mean more. The crush on Ashton started slow, so slow you almost can’t pinpoint when it surfaced. But you know it had surfaced. 

You longed for his touch and when he was around, you felt like everything made sense. Even if it didn’t actually make sense, there’s a sense of comfort in his presence that slows your racing mind. You don’t have butterflies, but it’s a warm feeling buzzing beneath your skin. A kind of calm that cuts through the noise. 

Ashton could have his pick of whomever. It’s a fact made possible by his occupation and his good looks help too. Yet, you’ve noticed a decreasing lack of conversation surrounding relationships. You weren’t sure if he was looking less for them or if he was just keeping that information from you out of respect. You never hated that he talked about other women. You’d sort of grown accustomed to that topic, having talked Ashton off many ledges about love in the midst of drama, familial trauma with relationships, and his own stubbornness. 

You’re not less of a suspect about the topic either. You stopped talking so much about your own love life with Ashton as well. Part of it due to its slow death. With work and your crush on Ashton you sort of resigned yourself to a state of limbo--temporarily at least. You know you can’t linger on this crush and unknown forever. But you hadn’t been so bold as to bring it up before. 

Perhaps, it was time to breach that line again. 

The clack of Ashton’s slippers on his floors lets you know he’s moving up the stairs and closer to the bedroom. You keep your focus on the tuck of his jeans into the bottom of the suitcase. Your heart races though, the closer and closer Ashton gets. 

Would you really bring up this conversation now? Two days before tour? It was beyond shitty timing. Yet, opportunity feels like it’s slipping through your fingers if you don’t make a move now. Like if you don’t say something now you won’t say something ever. You’ll resign yourself to swallowing back down everything you’ve been brewing over in the ten minutes you’ve had apart from Ashton. 

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?” Ashton teases, slipping out of his house shoes. His descent beside you on the floor is a little slow and he groans just a hair as he gets down. 

“Bad knees,” you return with a laugh, taking a shirt from the pile to fold and roll. 

“You’re a fucking comedian,” Ashton huffs. He takes another one of his shirts and is acutely aware that he should probably handle his undergarments to spare you. 

It falls quiet around the two of you. You’re focused now on folding, rolling, tucking into luggage. You run your fingers over the items. “Got enough bottoms? I’m not sure how often you’ll be near a washer and dryer.”

“We find ways,” Ashton laughs. “Also I’m counting the pants I’m wearing on the first flight,  so yeah, I’m good.”

“PJ’s?”

“A couple sets to swap out,” Ashton answers, lifting up to display some shorts and t-shirts beneath his normal attire. 

“Space for souvenirs?”

Ashton laughs. “Take me for a rookie, baby?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” It falls quiet again. The scruff’s grown thicker and now might be enough to constitute a beard. “Going to let the beard grow out or shave it?”

Ashton shrugs. “I’ve got some shaving stuff packed just in case I choose otherwise. It’ll only need a couple days to grow back,” he laughs. 

Now, as the two of you lock gazes, you see something swimming in Ashton’s eyes. His brows are pulled together. “Everything okay?” you ask. Though the two of you are separated by a suitcase, you still inch closer. 

“Can-can I ask you something?”

You nod. “Anything.” And it’s so easy to say that. Because you mean it. Ashton can ask you anything and you’ll answer it. But you’re not even thinking what that might mean to someone else until Ashton’s stumbling over his own words. A man normally so confident, worrying his lips over and over with his teeth. 

“I just--I know we’ve been friends for a while and with the tour coming up so soon, I’m not sure this is even fair to ask now.” Ashton pauses. He wants to take the knot of your brows as rejection but he watches for a moment longer and the pieces are clicking. Your eyes narrow, then widen like the bulb might’ve just gone off even before he’s gotten all the words out. “I don’t-I don’t want to ruin anything! I just need to ask.”

The possibility you hadn’t fully wanted to let yourself consider seems to be crash landing into your lip. If you’d conjured up this moment, you were afraid that you’d give it too much weight and care about it a bit too much. You worried that if you did open the door it would slam close, so you let yourself just think, but never dream. 

“Ashton, I’m going to ask this because I just need it explicit. What are you asking?”

A beat. Then two. 

Ashton moves the suitcase top up and over to shut the half packed suitcase close. He moves closer to you, taking your hands. “I want to ask if I should ask for a romantic relationship with you if the answer might be yes? I-I know we have a lot to work out and I’m gone for 4 months in two days. But, god, I had to ask. I have to ask.”

There’s a lot of unknowns. It’s jumping off the deep end. But the things you do know is that you and Ashton have had years. That surely had to count for something. “It-it could be.” The words make your own teeth chatter for a second. Your guts hurt at the thought that you might even be inching closer to something. 

Ashton’s palm is large--it swallows your cheek as he brings your face up closer. Your foreheads brush and you can smell the garlic from your food and the subsequent mint you’re sure Ashton snuck on the way up here. 

His smile radiates over his entire face. You can feel the heat of it ghosting over your face and you smile too. “It could be?”

“It could be. I like you. A lot. You make me feel safe. But you’re leaving so soon and I don’t know if right now I can say anything definitely.”

Ashton’s lips brush over the tip of your nose. “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t ask anything sooner. But please know I’m happy at the possibility. We’ll talk. I promise.”

As Ashton draws back, you surge forward, locking him in with a hand on the back of his neck. Ashton had asked but still you need the words. “Promise me we’ll talk at least weekly while you’re on tour? Promise me that there’s a possibility back?”

“I promise there’s a possibility. I mean, more than that too. But it’s--it’s not something you just waltz into. We’ll talk. Weekly at the absolutely least.”

Ashton swears his chest is going to burst when you kiss the tip of his nose. His fingers curl and he wants to do nothing more than to take your waist into his hands, kiss you until his lungs burn. But he won’t do that. The two of you had only promised an exploration, something to talk about more in depth, nothing full fledged. Ashton can’t lie that he doesn’t take that promise to bed like treasure. He can’t lie that he doesn’t lets it bury into his chest. He can’t lie that his dreams don’t water that hope. 

He can’t lie that when he wakes to a text from you, Take care of yourself today, with a red heart instead of the pink ones that something ike joy, or maybe just a stronger hope, blossoms.

Your phone shakes and you pull the glasses off your face with a huff. You’d been buried into your laptop trying to read over the headlines about your client and you already know it’s going to be a mess, yet this is all you have just a mess. 

Ashton’s name greets you on the screen and your bubble of frustration shrinks. “Long time, no see, stranger,” you tease, taking in the shaky and choppy picture of Ashton. 

“Hey, stranger,” he teases. You can tell by the way his hair sticks to his forehead he’s recently either gotten down with a show. “What’s it like on the west coast?” he asks. 

��Sunny and on the verge of collapse.”

“Verge of collapse? Your client?” Ashton questions. 

“Isn’t it always? I’ll figure it out, I know. Just buried right now in tabloid bullshit. How was the show over there? How’s the east coast?”

“It’s a little cloudy. Heard some stuff about potential hurricanes. I’ll be glad to be further west next week.”

You nod, scotting down a little in your chair. “This time of year is hurricane season. Must be an active year though if you’re catching wind of it.”

“Our tour manager said the same thing. We’ll be getting out just in the knick of time. Just worried about the folks who live out here. Hurricanes don’t sound fun.”

You shake your head. “Mother Nature is always to be feared--fires to hurricanes.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“How are the shows though?” you ask, knowing that you may not get all the time you want with Ashton on the phone so you try to get the best of it you can. 

“They’re fucking phenomenal. Amazing. Not quite the same as when you’re around, but they’re going really well.”

“And you’re taking care of yourself? If I ever get another text from you about being in a fucking hospital, I swear to God.”

Ashton laughs, a kind of laugh that you know is a bit uncomfortable, but he’s hearing you. “No, no, you won’t. Promise.”

“Good, I do not need a repeat.”

“No repeats. But question, is one of your dream dates still to get dressed up to go visit a museum?”

You give a pause, trying to assess with the somewhat clear picture of Ashton on your phone. You know you’d briefly mentioned it once, maybe twice. But you didn’t think it was enough for Ashton to still carry around the knowledge. You nod though at the question. “It is.”

“Why’d you say it like that? Are you getting suspicious of me?” Ashton teases. 

“Maybe just a little. Can I ask why you’re asking?”

“If you must know,” Ashton starts, accent morphing into an almost decent English accent, “I am attempting to court you. Dates are a part of such activities.”

Your laughter falls easily, cheeks heating at the thought. “You do not have to say it like that,” you huff with a smile. “Is your dream date still a picnic and painting?”

“And if it is?” Ashton questions, a bit of a tease lilting his voice. 

“Then I’m buying paints, good sir. As simple as that.”

“I can’t argue with that. Okay, two good things about your day? Yeah?” It’s a thing--whenever you talk to Ashton now you two share two good things about your day. It’s a nice way to break up the conversation, spin the frustration of the day into something positive. You recline into the cushion of your couch contemplating your day. After you share the good things you ask Ashton about his. Of course he mentions the show. 

Conversation winds through dreams--literal and things about that you want out of life. It’s nice to just let the conversation go where it wants. Ashton mentions being inspired on tour for new scents for his candle company and you let that take you to conversations about the smells of your childhood home. Ashton teases that he’ll have to make that another scent. When you ask about the smells of Ashton’s childhood, you notice he gets a little quiet. It’s a slow answer and when it comes, you listen to all the weight he gives the words. 

“Mum--she did the best she could you know. I think if I had to describe the smell of my childhood home it’d be a bit of vanilla, grass because god the house was always brimming with our ruckus.”

“Grass after it rains is a nice smell,” you offer after Ashton’s bout of silence. “We don’t have to push it. I appreciate you sharing what you did.”

“No, no, I don’t mind. Just hard sometimes.”

“I get it. It can be hard sometimes. But I appreciate you listening. It means a lot, you know? That you’re willing to let me work through it at my own pace.”

“Life’s hard enough,” you concede. “No need for me to make it harder.”

“But we have Dallas to look forward too.”

You nod. “Yes, we do have Dallas. I’m excited.”

“Good, me too.” Voices echo from further down and Ashton bids his goodbyes, sad and quiet but you ensure to send a message as follow up, I’m here, when you need to call or text or vent. Got plenty of space. You attach a picture of your bed you splayed across the queen sized mattress. 

Ashton’s response comes about twenty minutes later, God, that looks comfy as hell. Thank you. A red heart is attached too. 

Ashton’s not one to freak--he’s done plenty of it on his own and knows it’ll get him nowhere. But the night before the Dallas show, his phone shakes. Your name lights up across the screen. He thinks it’s just about tomorrow. Maybe an inner monologue about you trying to decide what to wear. But when the message starts with, I’m so sorry, Ashton knows it’s bad. 

He doesn't even read the full thing, pushes back from the bar counter and presses to call your number. It rings, and rings, and rings in his ear. “Please pick up,” he mutters to himself. 

“Hi, I’m sorry I can’t answer the phone right now. Please leave a message with your name and number and I’ll be sure to return your call,” your voicemail greets Ashton. 

He listens for the beep before speaking, “Hey, it’s me, Ashton. I-I admittedly only read like two percent of your text, but I wanted to call, to see if everything is okay. Please give me a call back when you can. Please. I’m worried.”

There’s so much more to say but Ashton can’t get his tongue to cooperate so he leaves it at that and hangs up. Pushing the hair off his forehead with one hand, Ashton swipes back to your text. I’m so sorry about this. Currently at the ER and will probably be on crutches tomorrow thanks to an ill placed step on some gravel. I’ll be sure to update you and call as soon as I know for certain. 

You’re hurt, but not terribly so and that’s a win. It’s not enough to quiet the thunder of Ashton’s heart. What had you done? Where had you been? He can only think to type out, Which hospital are you at? Are you going to be okay?

“Hey, Ash, everything alright?” Calum asks. His voice is soft as his question falls. Ashton’s not sure how he even catches Calum speaking if he’s honest, even as he gives a head shake no to the question. “What happened?”

“Just-I need them to text me back. Figure out how far the hospital is from here. I can think then.”

“Yeah, of course. But it sounds bad? Who’s hurt? When you get the name, I’ll see how quick we can get an Uber.”

Panic does no one any good, but Ashton’s not going to talk himself off the ledge of panic when it comes to you. He waits and waits and Calum waits with him, finally getting the pieces of your text in relation to a potential fall. The two men hover in the lobby of the hotel, drinks long forgotten by now. Though Ashton felt the waning of adrenaline leaving his body from the show just a couple hours before, he feels wired. He watches and watches his screen for it to only come alive by the shake of his hands. 

I’m sure you just got done with the houston show and would probably prefer some rest. It’s a pretty bad sprain, I’ll be okay, reads the text after a long 45 minutes. 

His fingers shake and he nearly can’t get a steady enough press to dial your number. The phone rings--once, then twice. Your voice is the sweetest sound he could ever hear as it floats in through the receiver, “Hi, Ashton. I’m sorry to give you such a scare, I know.”

“You’re okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Nasty fall. Really bad sprain. It’ll be annoying for the next couple of days. But I’m not dead.”

“Which hospital are you at?”

“Uh, Baylor something or another. I’m getting discharged now actually. I thought I’d be able to call after the initial run of test but they diagnosed it fast. And a lot sort of happened before I could get my hands on the phone again.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay. Do you have someone that can get you back to your hotel safely?” He needs that answer to be yes. He’s not sure where you are though and that’s the thing that’s killing him. Ashton does have the name of the hotel you’re staying at, as you shared your itinerary with him earlier in the week to see if you’d be at the same hotel. Your hotel is about 10 minutes or so from his. Happenstance you both knew but right now it feels like a godsend. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got someone that can drive me.”

“I’m going to meet you there okay?” You start to protest but Ashton’s quicker. “I know you probably don’t need me. But please, just let me get eyes on you so I know you’re not going to keel over, okay?”

You sigh. “Fine, Irwin. But you better be there before me.”

A smile lifts his cheeks. “I will be. Promise.”

“Are they at Baylor University still? I got the address,” Calum offers when Ashton hangs up. “And yes, yes I was eavesdropping,” he laughs at the pull of Ashton’s brow.

Though Ashton won’t admit this, he’s glad for Calum’s care. “Nah, no, they’re about to head back to their hotel. Getting discharged now. I’m-I’m going to go there and I’ll meet up with you guys for the truck in the afternoon before it leaves for the venue.”

“Sounds good. Keep us updated though? Should anything else happen?”

“Of course, man. Of course.”

Ashton’s quick back to his room to grab his bags. They’re not many, thankfully. All the while he tracks his drivers approach on his phone as he waits at the elevator door. It’s a slow descent, or at least it feels that way but the doors open and Ashton’s back into the lobby. Just as his feet hit the concrete of the sidewalk a car eases to a stop. 

“Picking up for Ashton?” the driver asks through the passenger side window. 

It’s a quick ride and Ashton thanks the driver before climbing back out into the thick humid Texas air. It’s heavy on his skin but all Ashton continues to think about is getting into that lobby before you. The glass doors are heavy but they reveal a mostly quiet lobby. No one at the front desk and he settles off to the side. Ashton halfway considers calling you to see how far you are, but before the thought can blossom anymore than a hair, the doors open again. 

Someone holds open the door and there’s a click and clack that’s distinctly hollow. “Thanks,” you state, working the crutches up and forward. 

Not what Ashton expected but you’re whole--together, in front of him. A wrap on your left ankle. “You’re late,” Ashton huffs, a faux annoyance. But it’s all you need to grin. The ache in his ribs eases. 

“I’m moving a little slower than normal.” The two of you meet in the middle, or maybe less than that as Ashton does cover more ground than you. But it’s not like you care. Though you are mindful that you are still sort of on the clock. And Ashton catches on too, when you don’t lean in for a hug or more. 

“Do-do you have any bags you need me to carry?” he asks. 

“Personal effects,” you tease, throwing a look over to Savannah who’s got your shoe in a plastic bag from the hospital. You take the moment though to introduce the small group you’re with--mostly other staff on the team. “Everyone, Ashton,” you conclude with a nod of your head. It’s a quick conversation to ensure you’re all okay and set to go. Once you confirm that you’re good and that Ashton won’t let you do anything to further hurt yourself, the group slowly thins. 

You and Ashton remain as the others move towards either the hotel bar or the elevators. You wait, trying to ensure that the group is gone before you sigh, shoulders rounding with the action. “I hope your heart will be able to withstand the show tomorrow,” you tease. 

“Oh, quit it. I’m not that old.”

“I don’t know you told you were old anyway.”

“Oh, society says it everyday. Aren’t you listening?:

“Absolutely the fuck not,” you laugh. 

Ashton’s glad to hear the sound. “Yeah, I thought you might say that, let’s get you to your room yeah.”

It’s a hobble, still unsteady on the crutches a little but thankfully once you’re inside the elevator, you know it’s a quick walk to your room. Ashton retrieves the keycard from your wallet for you and holds the door open. The room is cool--like all hotel rooms seem to be as they surely must double for freezers with the temperatures they are set at. But it’s clear that maybe you hadn’t been planning to be out--your laptop’s still on the bed. Your bag rest on the lounge chair open, clothes peeking out from the depths of it. 

Ashton drops his bag next to yours. 

“So what happened?” he asks. 

“We got back around 8 or so, a much too early night if I’m honest. So, I did a little work to pass the time. Then around 9 Devin, the stylist, asks if I want to go out and grab a couple drinks. I say yes, we’re sort of bar hopping to find the right vibe. I had like two drinks max at the bars we’d found. But on the way to another bar, coming down off the sidewalk, I just misjudged the distance or something. All I know is that I was up one minute then I was down.”

Ashton’s gentle as he kneels, taking a quiet moment to inspect your foot. “You ought to be elevating it,” he offers. 

“I sort of want to change, but I need to shower too. And that’s just awkward all the way around,” you laugh. “Haven’t even taken me on a date yet and I’m already on the verge of having to ask you to help me undress because of my stupid ankle.”

“They don’t mean that,” Ashton directs to your injured joint. “And I am working on that date, you just need to give me a few months.” Though Ashton hopes he can do it sooner. Though with this injury he’s not sure if his plans of stealing you away one day during the break will pan out still. 

You know you should be responding. Ashton’s gazing up at you from practically between your legs as if waiting for an instruction, but you’re too caught up in the way his face holds his beard, honey eyes dripping still as they look at you. “You’re handsome, anyone ever tell you that?”

“Some might say you just did.”

“Well, you are,” you return more confident. “You’re very handsome.” Maybe it’s just easier now. You can freely admit to such attraction because you know the possibility exist that you and Ashton have more. You know the tour is just a temporary thing, but it gives you two something to work from. Rather than just the comfort of ease and accessibility, you and Ashton have to make conscious efforts to communicate while he’s away. The discomfort makes you work. It reminds you that nothing worth having has always been easy. 

Your fingers trace the line of Ashton’s jaw, from the bottom of his ear to his chin. Feels like his body is melting but he remains frozen, kneeling on the thin carpeted floor of this hotel room. It’s a sort of limbo that if Ashton were to ever work through a metaphor, he might call it the seconds in a summer blaze with ice cream. You know the ice cream won’t stay solid forever, but in the first few moments, everything is as it always will be. The ice cream will still have a shape and the sun will still have a ray, but those paths had not crossed just yet--not long enough to have an effect. Yet, Ashton knows that while he holds still now, while he waits to see if you say or do something more, he is the sun ray. He will cause an effect. 

“You, however, sweetheart, are so incredibly dangerous,” Ashton whispers. 

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Besides absolutely wiping out and being a danger to your literal self, I do have to say that you are dangerous because if you keep scratching at my beard like this you are going to open a whole new can of worms that we will not be able to get back inside.”

You know it’s a warning. You don’t think you want to heed it though. “Just a kiss?” you ask. 

Will it ever be just a kiss, Ashton does not know. “You speak of me undressing you to shower and change and rest your ankle that is still injured by the way, and ask for just a kiss?”

You nod. “Yeah, just a kiss.”

Ashton pushes up, hand capturing your cheek as his lips capture yours. Your lips taste a bit sour, maybe the drink or two you’d mentioned before. But Ashton thinks he could swallow the taste and tattoo it into his lungs. He would tattoo it into his lungs if such a thing were possible. 

You swear you’ve never been held in such a more confident and gentle way as Ashton pulls up closer into your body. His hands find your waist, a grip that pushes into the flesh of you that makes you whimper. It’s a pathetic sound and you can’t help but laugh at yourself, interrupting the kiss. Your kiss ends with an echoing pant between the two of you, nose to nose as you hold his face between your palms. 

“You can make fun of me for that later, understand?” you huff. 

Ashton’s laughter falls out more like a groan when you brush your hands down his chest. “I don’t really think I have ground to talk, so.” Ashton presses another kiss, lighter, but still long against your lips. “I just--I’m a little ill prepared to go any further tonight.”

“Are you, Ashton Irwin, rockstar and drummer for the hottest band, 5 Seconds of Summer, telling me that you do not have condoms?” you snort. 

“It may be that. In all fairness, the spare I had I had to end up passing along to a couple of the other guys so, it’s not that I didn’t have them.”

“You just don’t have anymore,” you conclude for him. 

“Exactly.”

“No worries. My spare expired, so same boat. Besides, I did ask only for a kiss.”

“That you surely did. And I think this is our last stop on this train lest we decide to risk it tonight.”

You giggle, fingers playing just a little at the hair at the nape of Ashton’s neck. “I think this is my stop anyway.” 

“Can I ask for one more kiss though?” Ashton’s grin is small and sheepish, like he knows he’s asking for something he shouldn’t. But you can’t say no as you capture his lips one last time. It’s softer now, rather than holding for fear of life lost, now you know you can taste and taste without worrying about losing your chance. 

Though it should be awkward to get yourself changed and cleaned up, you find that it’s easy. Undoubtedly, it’s intimate to have Ashton help you get your pants on and off, but it’s easy to laugh and converse around your work. By the time you’re both settled in for the night, your leg slightly elevated thanks to some of the spare pillows, the blue hue of the TV screen is just an accent to you and Ashton’s laughter, 

“You had to have a crush on at least one cartoon character,” you huff. 

“No, I’m normal.”

“Ashton, you are anything but normal. So just fess up. Was it Lola Bunny?”

Ashton laughs. “No, it was not Lola Bunny. Who even is that?”

You ignore Ashton’s question and pry for an answer listing Roxanne from A Goofy Movie as another potential. It gets shot down immediately. “C’mon, Irwin! Just give me an answer.”

Your response is only Ashton pressing a kiss to your cheek with an adamant but giggled filled, “Goodnight.”

It’s not what you imagined how the first time you shared a bed Ashton would go, but you can’t think to change anything about it now. It’d always be a story to tell, one to hold close to your heart in the future. You reach over, finding Ashton’s hand easily under the cover. His response is immediate as he threads his fingers through yours. 

The TV remains on, a quiet hum and over the soft music of some commercial you’re sure you catch the rumble of a snore. “Thanks, for being here,” you offer. Even if Ashton is still asleep you need to say it. 

“You’re more than welcome.”

[danidig1tal]

babies <3

[an-emotional-blender]

5sos Blurbs

🌼-fluff 🥀- angst 💕- smut

Ashton Irwin - Everything Was Fine 🥀

Ashton Irwin - Wish You the Best 🥀

Ashton Irwin - Fatal Outburst 🥀

Calum Hood - The One 🌼

Calum Hood - Make Me Feel Okay 💕

Calum Hood - Not Meant to Be🥀

Michael Clifford - Not Like I'm in Love with You 🥀

Michael Clifford - You're Being Mean 🥀

Michael Clifford - Reputation 🥀

Luke Hemmings - Hold Me 🌼🥀

Luke Hemmings - Unwanted 🥀

Luke Hemmings - Withdrawals 🥀

Luke Hemmings - Ruined Me 🥀