#its only calum

[ghost-of-you]

Cool, baby blue, tell me what I'm gonna be...

[edge-oftheworld]

am I the only one who found the ‘mixtape straight out of 94’ line ironic like. stop trying to be cool you weren’t even born yet

[sunshineram]

at this point i just need to make one of those voice claim videos with clips for the kings ffs anyways devils train is such a sunshine king boo song

[souperbloom]

hey! i love your ash and luke one shots so i was wondering if maybe we can get a soft dom cal? something like he comes home late from a studio session and you get mad because you had plans for that night, so he begs for forgiveness by eating you out lol

i love your brain anon. this one was fun as hell.

enjoy some soft!dom cal <3 xoxo

————————

apologies. [C.H.]

🎸boyfriend!cal

the ask pretty much told y’all everything you need to know. kissy.

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, angst if u squint, oral (f!receiving), dirty talk/praise, squirting.

WORDCOUNT: 3.4k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

"Are you guys fuckin’ coming, or what?"

"Yeah, just— gimme’ another hour. We’ll be there…"

"Swear?"

"Fuckin’ swear, Ang."

You were lying.

You knew damn well you were lying. And so did your best friend, Angie.

Also known as; the one on the phone, that had been pestering you about your plans to go out for the last three hours.

You’d been stalling for a third of that time, which you weren’t proud of. These plans had been made weeks in advance and the only thing stopping you from just getting up and leaving right now was your rather untimely boyfriend.

Calum was the type to let time slip right through his fingers. He was terrible at managing how he spent that time, let alone keeping an eye on the clock. Especially when he was at the studio with the boys.

So you weren’t surprised when he had told you he’d be home to get changed at 10:30— yet now, it was well past midnight.

Letting out a frustrated huff, you toss your phone on the side of the couch. Your long sleeve ‘going out’ top was riding up your back and furthering the anger that was boiling right through you.

"Fuckin’ hell, Cal…" You mumble to yourself, talking into open air with nobody to reprimand, nobody to yell at and let off steam.

You were alone.

The clock on the cable box blinked 12:32. An hour and a half later than the original time of your plans. You were about ready to storm out of your apartment and leave a long, shitty note for Cal to read about just how angry he had made you; but you knew deep down that you’d have a better time with him at your side. You loved him, for fuck’s sake.

Too damn much, sometimes.

Just when you thought a little too hard about putting your shoes on, you hear the familiar sound of keys rattling against the door. It was more frantic than usual; most likely due to the sweaty hands that were manning them.

You snap your head around to watch the door bust open, revealing your panting boyfriend who had probably just run up the five flights of stairs it took to get to your apartment.

He was never a fan of waiting for the elevator.

"Hi, hi, baby— hi— I’m— I’m here, I’m here." An exasperated chuckle laces through your boyfriend’s words as he tried with all of his might to kick the door closed and take his coat off at the same time.

But you just sat there. Your legs crossed, your arms folded— the most scornful, disapproving gaze in your eye.

"You’re late, Cal," you say, disdain rattling off your tongue like a viper.

"I— I know, baby. Fuck, I’m sorry. Lost track of time… fuckin’ around when I shouldn’t have been. But— I’m here now. I’m here."

His words were coming out jumbled and frantic, while still running around like a chicken with its’ head cut off. He had ventured towards the kitchen island, dropping his keys and taking off his beanie that shielded him from the crisp fall winds.

His cheeks were glowing red, still laminated with the sweat it took to get him up five flights of stairs. Yet he hadn’t even made eye contact with you.

"We made these plans weeks ago." You try your best at remaining stern with him, sitting still.

"I know, I know, I know, I know…" Calum was now migrating towards your bedroom, his voice growing faint and trailing off as he exited. You watched the empty hallway; the sounds of rummaging through drawers, opening and slamming them shut was already pissing you off more than you’d like to admit. Your leg was bobbing impatiently now, trying to think of any kind of way to cool yourself off before you burst into flames.

Or, tears.

"Cal—." Your voice cracks slightly, to no response.

"Calum." You try again, a bit louder this time.

His head finally pops around the corner of the door frame. "What?"

"Just—" Your sentence breaks with a sigh, dropping your head into your hand as you pinch the bridge of your nose, "—forget it."

"What?" He steps out into the hallway completely, dropping his hands to his sides.

"Forget it, Cal… I-I don’t even wanna’ go anymore."

The clothes that were once in his hands drop to the hardwood floor as he rushes over to you on the couch.

"Hey,” he tries to console, "don’t say that."

"What’s the point? We’re already two hours late! Angie’s one phone call away from ripping my goddamn head off!" You can’t help but huff, dropping your head into your hands.

"Y/N, I’m really sorry." Calum voice rings soft, and sweet— but there was nothing more that you wanted to do than wring out his fucking neck.

"Just— drop it, Calum. I’m already in a shitty mood."

You hated being so mean.

Each time you yelled at him was like the snapping of one of your heart strings. But despite that tightness in your chest, he needed to know how much this affected you. Whether you liked it or not.

Calum stays quiet for a moment, seemingly nervous to say the wrong thing or misstep. He was always so cautious with you, never picking a fight. Even though you’ve picked many.

"Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?" He asks, squatting down to be level with your sunken face.

"No."

"I could… run you a bath?"

You shake your head. "Nuh uh."

"I could make you dinner?"

"I already ate."

When you peek out from between your fingers, you notice Calum’s lips pushed to the side. He braces his hands on your knees, still crouching and trying to get some sort of read on your face.

He could tell you weren’t happy.

And he fucking hated that.

"Can I see that pretty face?"

That almost got a smile out of you, but you opted just to shake your head.

"I’m not sure how else to say I’m sorry, my girl." His thumb starts a cadence of soothing circles around the outside of your knees.

"Try saying it in French," you mumble, rubbing your tired eyes.

Calum sucks his teeth, "Ouch."

Growing impatient and just about ready for bed, you sit upright. Faced with Calum for the first time since he bust through the door.

His heather green flannel was slouching on his shoulders, looking beat up from the 10 hour day he’d spend working in the studio. His curls hung lowly over his big brown eyes, in desperate need of a trim.

It was taking everything inside of you not to grab his face and tell him how much you loved him, because in spite of all this, you still did.

He was an expert at pissing you off, and it only made you love him more.

"There’s my beautiful girl," he says upon seeing you, smiling meekly, still trying to get your spirits up.

"’Don’t feel it."

"Why not?"

"’Cause you piss me off."

Cal chuckles, squeezing your kneecaps and adjusting his squatted position.

"Can’t really argue with that."

The two of you stare at each other for a moment; the decorative string lights from behind your couch were twinkling in his chocolatey irises, and painting him out to be some sort of angel. His pretty cherub cheeks were still rosy from rushing around and quite frankly, it suited him.

You’ve fallen too damn hard.

"Y’know, I thought of another way to make it up to you."

"Yeah?" You quip, leaning back on the couch cushions.

"Mhm."

His hands were still lingering, moving up to massage your exposed thighs that were now catching a draft from your lack of movement. You had planned to wear this outfit on the day you told Angie you’d be there tonight. So the fact that you were still in it, yet not where you said you’d be, was making your blood boil.

"Gonna buy me back all the time I wasted getting ready for tonight?" You seethe lowly, trying not to sound too bitchy yet coming across as the bitchiest bitch in the world.

Calum frowns, his Doc Martens squeaking against the hardwood floor as he adjusts his posture, "You’re really good at that."

"Good at what?" You muse, chuckling through your nose.

"Firing the shit I pull right back at me. It’s sexy."

"Don’t try to butter me up, Cal. I know I’m sexy. Hence why it took me an hour and a half to get ready."

For some odd reason, your whiny complaints and moody comments towards Calum didn’t seem to be effecting him. They were bouncing off his puffed up chest like he was made of rubber. He was used to your incessant need to be on time, and how he was quite literally your antithesis.

But those witty remarks you kept throwing at him were one of the things he loved most about you. Which is why he kept egging you on.

"I’m really sorry, baby. I’m really sorry I wasted your time."

You try your hardest to bite back a smile, but it doesn’t go over well. "You should be."

Without another word, Calum is dropping down to his knees and suddenly, your heart is racing.

"Can I make it up to you," his hand creeps towards the hemline of your skirt, "like this?"

"I’ll consider it," you nod, trying to seem unbothered by your boyfriend’s large, weathered hands, "But what’s in it for me?"

"Trust me, baby. It’ll be all about you. You won’t have to move a muscle and I swear, on everything I love…"

His fingers stretch across the width of your thighs, prying open your legs with a wicked grin.

"… I’ll have your fuckin’ legs shaking like crazy within the next ten minutes."

Your face flushes, hands subconsciously gripping onto the couch cushions down at your sides at your boyfriend’s promise. He’s still gleaming up at you, waiting for your approval; he’s never the type to handle you without your permission.

"The journey to forgiveness is a long, winding road… But this is definitely a good start, Calum. Well done."

Despite your cool, agile reply, your heart continues to thump out of your ribcage when you see how your unnerving boyfriend reacts to the sound of his own name. He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply with that smile still painted onto his cheeks.

"Keep fuckin’ talking like that. See where you end up."

You scoff playfully, "Is that a threat, Mr. Hood?"

"Not a threat, my girl… It’s a promise."

His hands are dancing dangerously close to your underwear now, having crept up your skirt without you even noticing. But you hadn’t a care in the world. You were merely turned on by the sight of him, so eager to please you. So ready for your forgiveness.

"Fuck, you’re good," you groan, letting a whimper slip past as well, "Show me how sorry you really are, then."

In no time, Calum is leaving a sultry trail of kisses up your thigh. You hiss at the feeling of his cool lips against you; having not felt them since the last time the two of you fucked. Which was about four days ago.

He had been quite busy in the studio with the band’s upcoming album, so times like these were a novelty. Not like you minded much, any quality time spent with Calum was worth a million years.

And besides, he’s damn good at it. Why tamper with an already perfect system?

"I know what I said, but can you do somethin’ for me?" Your boyfriend’s head pops up from beneath your skirt with sparkly eyes.

"Mh, depends." You reply lazily.

"Wanna hear you, baby. Wanna hear that pretty voice."

"That won’t be an issue," you smile, lifting your upper half from the couch, "You may have to earn it though…"

Calum’s eyebrow quirks, looking like he’s just about ready to wipe that catty smile right off of your face.

"Since when are you the one to give orders around here?"

You sit up even further to spit back, "Since you decided to fuck around with your boyfriends and make us miss our fucking plans."

There isn’t even an opportunity for you to say any more, since Calum had decided to grip the backs of your thighs and yank you to the edge of the couch. He lifts your legs, ripping your panties off swiftly and tossing your knees over his shoulders before you can even blink.

You gasp at the sudden dynamic change, shallow breaths barely escaping your throat as your boyfriend is now heaving as well. His once angelic brown eyes had shifted to something darker.

Somebody needed to pinch you. You must be dreaming.

"Watch that mouth," he growls lowly, that soft demeanor of his slightly peeking through his cold exterior, "Not gonna tell you again."

Your face drops, now nodding like a desperate mess.

"I don’t care how sorry I am. Good girls get their way, bad girls don’t. And we both know that, don’t we my baby?"

"Yes— yes sir."

"Gonna be good for me?"

You nod again, fingernails digging into the couch cushions as his apology has not only become something you really really wanted—

It was now something you needed.

"Please, Cal. Promise… Promise I’ll be good for you."

He smiles, and a familiar warmth settles back into the pit of your stomach as he kisses both of your knees.

"That’s my fuckin’ girl."

Sweat begins to pool across your forehead when the first kiss is planted on your inner thigh. You writhe above him, patiently waiting for his mouth to travel down to where you needed it to be.

But patience runs thin in moments like these, especially since Calum was such a fucking tease.

"Cal, baby— please…"

Another couple of kisses later and you’re still feeling unfulfilled. At this point, his head was so far deep into your skirt that you could only see the frosty tips of his unruly curls. He hears your plea, nodding slowly.

"Getting there, pretty. Getting there…"

A shock wave zaps your spine the moment he makes contact with your clit. Your body jolts, feeling the slow rhythm of his tongue toying with your sensitive bud.

"Jesus fuck—" You sigh, trying to fulfill the promise of letting him hear you while simultaneously trying to lasso your head back onto your shoulders.

Calum hums happily, which sends another wave of flutters down your body. You were so damn sensitive, and your boyfriend knew it too. But when his head was between your legs, he never seemed to think, or care about anything else.

He flattens his tongue against your dripping slit, making sure to move slowly and pay attention how long it took him to drag his tongue from one part, to the next. You’re still wriggling around, but Cal’s got his arms locked around your thighs.

You couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to.

"Just— just like that, baby… Keep— keep doing that."

The blood rushes to your head when he finds that particularly sweet spot with the tip of his tongue; he’s moaning, you’re moaning, it was like a symphony of desperate pleas. Your hands fly to meet his head, fingers getting tangled in his chocolatey curls as he starts to use his nose in cohesion with his tongue.

"Fuck me, you’re magic, Cal…"

He hums again. Of course, he agrees. He knows he’s the only one who could ever make you feel this way, and he was damn proud of it.

Apology: accepted.

But you wouldn’t tell him that.

That familiar crash of adrenaline was beginning to wash over you, your stomach began twisting in knots as each tug of Calum’s hair produced more and more pressure onto your pussy. He was chipping away at you, collecting your juices onto his tongue and savoring each and every flavor of you. By the sounds he was making, you could only assume that he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

"Cal, baby… I’m close. Gonna’ cum… gonna’ cum really soon."

You say the magic words. Your lower half was already preforming backflips at only the flick of his tongue, but that euphoria heightened when he took it upon himself to pop his head up and start using his fingers instead.

He dips one finger inside of your dripping heat, his face slicked with your wetness as he finds your eyes for the first time since he started. Your mouth hangs open, trying your hardest to keep the eye contact as he begins to speak.

"Forgive me, baby? I’m really, really, really sorry."

You nod wearily through a breathy moan, attempting to stop your eyes from rolling into the back of your head.

"Y—yes… Yes Cal, I—"

Your sentence is cut short by the feeling of a second finger entering you, curling up to brush against that sweet spot with each new stroke.

"Yes what? You forgive me? Say it like you mean it, my girl… I know you can do it."

His taunting words pull another moan from your throat. He’s still looking at you with hooded eyes, enjoying every second of watching you fall apart. You weren’t sure what had gotten into your sweet boy tonight, but you definitely didn’t mind it.

"Yes. Yes, baby— I— I forgive you," you breathe, that swirling feeling in the pit of your stomach ready to burst, "I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you…"

Calum nods, his teeth sunk deeply into his bottom lip as he watches the obscene ways of your impending orgasm. If he was more honest with himself, your face alone could’ve had him coming on the spot. But he would never admit that. You always came first.

"Yeah? You mean it?" He asks another question. You swore this was some sort of game.

"Yes baby, I— I mean it—!"

Your breathing picks up, Calum’s fingers now moving a bit sloppily, yet keeping that steady rhythm that was driving you up the walls. The pressure building in your lower half was unfamiliar, drawing quick confusion out of you mere seconds before your orgasm.

"Cal, wait— I—"

Alarm bells were blaring in your head, now that Calum had taken his other, freer hand to press his palm flat onto your stomach. He knew what was coming, but you didn’t have a clue.

"Let it go for me, my girl. Let me hear it. Fuckin’ give it t’ me."

Not only does your orgasm rip through your body like a whip cracking down onto pavement, a new sensation was felt the moment Cal told you to let go. A spurt of wetness coats his fingers and the lower half of his face, bringing you to immediately go stark white.

Your chest is heaving, coming down from the high that your boyfriend had just whipped you through. He beat the clock and kept his promise, that’s for damn sure.

"What just— what the fuck. What the fuck, Cal?" You giggle through the comedown, watching Calum triumphantly admire his digits that were now soaked with you. The feeling of you. The taste of you.

"Think you just accepted my apology in more ways than one, baby," your beau chuckles, wiping his face with the back of his fist.

"I can’t believe I just did that," you mumble meekly, now slightly self-conscious as you realized what had just occurred.

Calum scoffs with a shrug, "I can, are you kidding? I knew you had it in you. And all it took was me fucking up to get it out."

"Don’t put it like that," you cringe, scrunching your nose, "Makes it weird."

Calum then begins a slow rhythm of massaging your thighs, something he always does whenever you’re coming down from one of your highs.

"Okay. Won’t make it weird. But let me ask you this— are you still mad?"

You raise your eyebrows, still flustered, watching him lean upward to rest his elbows on your legs. His flannel was in a disarray, as were his curls; you were so wrapped up in admiring him that the thought of anger never even crossed your mind.

"Mad about what?" you ask innocently.

"Mhm," he hums, before leaning in to peck you gently on the lips, "Exactly."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[probablyasocialecologist]

An ambitious plan to plant at least a million native trees on crofts in the Outer Hebrides has taken root, its organisers say, with more than 200 small new woods sprouting across the islands. The Western Isles woodland project hopes to reestablish a thriving mosaic of small woods dotted across the islands by using vacant or underused crofts to reforest the Hebrides and promote nature restoration. Under the project, funded mainly by profits from the UK’s largest community-owned windfarm, west of Stornoway, 211,000 trees have already been planted on 245 crofts, plots of land that were historically family-run small holdings. Some of the new woodlands have up to 1,500 trees grown from local seeds, featuring alder, hazel, birch, rowan, Scots pine, blackthorn, sycamore and various species of willow. The project has been so successful it has helped establish three new tree nurseries on the islands.

[...]

“We’re restoring a landscape which existed a thousand years ago,” [Jon Macleod] said. Using seeds gathered from local trees greatly increased their chances of prospering – “the survival rate and provenance is relevant to the place”. Calum Macdonald, the former Labour MP leading the project, hoped it could be a model for community owned energy projects across the UK. Four-fifth of the woodlands’ funding is from the £900,000 annual profits made by the three 3MW wind turbines owned by Point and Sandwick trust, a community development body. The turbines at Beinn Ghrideag generate up to 30GWh of power a year – enough, Macdonald said, to supply all the Western Isles with electricity.

[...]

Green energy schemes generally employ only a handful of staff and engineers whereas community ownership allows people to capture the profits they produce and reinvest them locally, Macdonald said. In Denmark, about half of turbines are community-owned. Many rural communities in the UK feel excluded from the profits generated by energy firms, and resent the large turbines, sub-stations and large pylons built in their areas. “I would love to use the green energy revolution to get a lot more long-term benefits for our communities,” Macdonald said. Macleod agrees. “No one is against renewable energy here but community benefit is key, otherwise it’s just exploitation,” he said.

31 August 2024

[snakesartblog]

I spent a day or two digging through BKMN for analysis, and I’ve got some interesting stuff to share! 

CWs: referenced sexual assault, murder, pregnancy

I'm writing this so that anyone could read it and have some understanding of it, even if they haven't read BKMN. This isn’t a formal essay and there isn’t one specific point that I’m getting at, but I’d argue that the central theme of the story is desire vs coercion.

WEGG

Wegg is the protagonist of BKMN and the symbolism around his storyline isn’t particularly subtle. It’s about finding acceptance as a man, especially following loss of bodily autonomy in sexual assault (unfortunately tends to be viewed as feminine). Following debatably consensual sex with the Swans, Wegg is cursed to die every month, a pretty clear parallel to menstruation, and then he “gives birth” to Calum. The connections from the assault to these things, very dysphoria-inducing for many transmascs, and his need to find meaning and masculinity of his own, I think exemplify the central theme of the book.

His desire for  masculinity and acceptance are very present through the entire book. Even his mannerisms and speech seem very intentionally masculinized, especially in contrast with mild-mannered Neighbor. I’d be surprised if this wasn’t purposeful on his part! In a symbolic sense, he finds acceptance and recognition with Neighbor, another trans person, when he explains his need to die each month and Neighbor takes it in stride. Despite the loss of autonomy he experienced and how it continues to affect him, he finds a place for himself among other trans people. Moreover, he’s homeless - lacking acceptance and community - until he moves in with Neighbor, and when he says that he doesn’t typically eat enough, from then on we see Neighbor cook or buy him food constantly. The symbolism here is pretty strong I think! Wegg feels that he is only accepted or loved when performing a femininity that he hates (as victim/messiah for the Swans and also demonstrated in the flashbacks to his past) until he finds others like him. 

NEIGHBOR

Neighbor is a super interesting way to write a trans character and weave transness into their storyline, in my opinion. It’s established from the first few pages of the book that he kills people, but specifically people who he perceives as harmful to others. Despite filling a classic “violent cis man” niche, a serial killer, he’s aware of his situation and power differentials around him and directs his necessary killing towards at least a less harmful route. Even the very first person we see Neighbor kill, in the opening of the book, is heavily implied to be the target because he committed sexual assault against his partner. He also doesn’t kill out of a desire to do so, and the moment Wegg offers his own blood, giving Neighbor a way out from the murders, Neighbor jumps at the opportunity. Compare this with Rarold, who I’d argue is a foil to Neighbor. They’re both relative outsiders in the community, they both butt heads with Tillman in one way or another, and they both kill people - but Rarold kills only because he wants to, he has no need to do so like Neighbor, and he is exclusively seen targeting young women. Rarold represents the sexist violence typically found in the stories of real-life serial killers, and in doing so makes it clear that Neighbor is not that kind of person.

Neighbor’s position in the town is also interesting, especially in comparison to Wegg’s. Neighbor is a member of the Baths community, arguably due to the services he provides for its members, but he’s still an outsider; no one knows him that well, he has no friends until he meets Wegg, and Tillman gets a bad vibe from him. In the context of this narrative about transmasculinity, there’s a lot there - Neighbor passes as a man thanks to his deal with Trudy, and he pays dearly for it with the murders he enacts. He asks Tillman not to disclose his first name, a name he never uses, to anyone following their trip to the Trudy temple “for safety purposes,” a mirror to the way any stealth trans person might talk about a legal name they never changed. Neighbor is accepted as a man in this pillar of the community, traditionally masculine provider role that he’s built for himself, but he’s still an outsider, and knows that he would risk losing the support of those around him were he open about his transness. To maintain his personal safety he trades openness regarding his identity, close relationships with those around him, and his conception of his own morality (he says multiple times that he doesn’t consider himself a good person due to the murders he has to commit). Even so, despite his lack of close ties to the cisgender people in the community and his idea of himself as a bad person, he tries to direct his killing to reduce the harm he’s doing, he helps Tillman find Trudy, houses Wegg, and does chores for, like, half the town of Baths. Despite his position, he clearly cares about the people around him and wants to be a positive influence.

As a note, there’s a bit of Biblical symbolism connected to Neighbor, but it’s not consistent. I couldn’t find a properly reliable source for it, but the internet says that the name Adie was originally a diminutive of Adam. He built his own body, making him his own God, and was cast out from Eden (became an outsider in the community) in the process. His original body was also burned on a cross following his deal with Trudy!

THE GODS

I think the conflict of the story is most concisely exemplified in the conflict between Trudy and Calum. Trudy represents desire itself, as the book very explicitly tells us. She’s the snake in Eden of Neighbor’s symbolism, and her devotees follow her very willingly. Trudy’s religion is decidedly voluntary, she grants her followers’ desires and only takes what they’re willing to give. She requires Neighbor kill people because it’s within his capacity, but Tillman isn’t required to harm others at all - dealing with Trudy is morally neutral and never seems to be forced. Calum, on the other hand, was forced onto Wegg, and represents a loss of autonomy for the power of others. The followers of the two gods are juxtaposed, especially in the ways Wegg and Tillman are treated as new followers of Calum and Trudy respectively. The fight scene between the two gods in the climax of the book is symbolic of the central themes of desire and consent.

[yourimagines]

Hey again! I loved your content on AngryGinge! I was wondering if you could do fluff content for ArthurTV? If not, it’s completely fine I understand! Thank you! 💕✨

Sorry that this took so long, I officially feel old because I didn’t know who he was 🙈 I’ve done some research on him. (Watching some videos.) I hope you like this one and I’m sorry it’s a shorter one

Podcast

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Gif is not mine

* Triggers: Swearing and fluff

- summary: you have a crush on Arthur

Y/N POV

Arthur asked me if I wanted to join him today on a podcast. A few others where there also like Chip and Calum. “Hey Y/N.” Chip greeted me as I arrived at the studio. “Hi Chip.” We both walked to the rest. Arthur was laughing with Calum. “Oh hey guys.” Arthur smiles at me, smiled shyly back. “You guys ready for today?” Calum asked us all. “Yes always.” Chip said while taking place on the set. “Okay then let’s get started.” Calum walks away to take a seat. Arthur smiles at me. “Let’s join them.” I nodded as we both took a seat. “I’ve never done a podcast.” “Don’t worry, Arthur will help you.” Chip laughs as Arthur pushed Calum. “Oh shut it.” I shyly looked at the microphone as the guys laughed about it.

“So we all seen the new movie talk to me right?” I shook my head. “No I haven’t.” “Why not?! It’s the best horror movie from this year.” Chip said to me. “Because I get scared easily, I don’t want to see a horror movie in the cinema, I wait till I can see it at home.” Calum laughs as Chip shook his head disappointed. “I can’t believe you….” I shrugged my shoulders. “Sorry I guess.” Arthur smiles at me. “We can watch it together then, I haven’t seen it either.” Calum gasped. “No way, come on guys..” “oh shut it Calum. Y/N and I will watch it together and then we come back to this topic again.” Chip starts to whistle, I blushed as Calum wiggled his eyebrows. “Yeah… watching the movie my ass.” Arthur laughs and shook his head. “Of course what else.” Chip made a kissing face. I was red as a tomato and hide my face. “Oh look at her!” Calum yells. “This is so not fair, you guys are making it weird.” I said into the microphone. “We?! Nahh you guys are so oblivious… just go on a date already.” I looked shyly over to Arthur who was smiling at me. “Only if you want” I nodded. “Yes, do you want it?” He nods. “Yeah for awhile to be honest.” I giggled at him. “Okay cool.” Chip and Calum high-fived each other. “Yess we did it again.” Arthur and I laughed at them. “Okay let’s move on…”

—— a few days later ——

“I heard you went on a date with Arthur.” Harry asked me as we were having lunch. “Yes, did you saw that video with chip and Calum.” “Yeah, you where embarrassed…” I nodded and sighed. “Yeah I’m still are.” “Why you like him and he likes you too.” “How do you know that maybe he’s just being nice and didn’t want me to be more embarrassed.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, he does talks a lot about you when you’re not around. He smiles a lot when he sees or mentions you.” “Really?” He nods and took a bite from his food. “Yeah its getting annoying.” I hummed and took a bite from my food.

I was making a video with Harry as he got a call. “It’s Arthur.” I looked surprised as he answers the call. He made a silent movement to me as he puts him on speaker. “Hey Harry.” “Hello mate how’s going.” He smiles at me. “Good, I actually calling you about Y/N.” We both looked at each other. “Oh yeah, what’s about it.” “Well I’ve been on a date with her, was super nice but I don’t know if she wants to go on another one.” I smiled as Harry winked at me. “Ask her out then.” “You think she would love that.” “Mate you both like each other so yeah why not.” He gave me a thumbs up. “Yeah you right. Thanks Harry.” “No problem.” Arthur hangs up as Harry and I laughed. “See he totally likes you.” Then I heard my phone going off. I looked at my phone and saw Arthur’s name. “Oh my god.” “Pick it up your idiot.” I quickly answered the phone, putting him on speaker. “Hi Arthur.” “Hey Y/N, how you’re doing?” “I’m good, how are you.” Harry wiggled his eyebrows. “Good.. I was wondering if you want to go out on a second date.” I smiled brightly to my phone. “Yes I would love too.” “Really?! Uhh okay is tomorrow night fine with you?” “Yes that would be lovely.” “Okay cool. I’ll text you for the actual time… I see ya tomorrow then.” “Yes I see you tomorrow.” “Okay bye..” “bye…” he hung up and I did a happy dance. Harry laughs and joins me. “Oh my good Harry, I’m so nervous.” “Why you heard him he likes you, don’t chicken out now.” “I’m not just nervous about this.” I signalled with my hands around us. “It will be alright, you guys are totally in love, it’s makes me almost sick tho.” I pushed his arm. “Don’t be mean now.” “Hey I’m just saying..” we both laughed about it and started the video again.

—— date night ——

We where at a mini golf arcade. Arthur was winning the game. “Ugh not fair.” He laughs as my ball missed the hole. “It’s okay, you did your best.” He patted on my shoulder as I throw the ball in. “I’m hungry let’s eat something.” He nods and grabbed the golf stick. “Let me carry these to the counter.” I smiled and gave it to him. He walks over and gives them to the young girl behind the counter. She smiles and checks him out. ‘The disrespect of her.’ He waves and walks over to me. “Okay done, let’s eat something now.” We both walked next to each other to the food court. Our hands brushing slightly against each other’s. I got a light blush on my cheeks as we walked in.

“So favourite game.” I started to think. “Favourite game, I think at the moment party animals..” he nods. “Yeah that’s a fun one.” “What about you?” “Uhh I don’t know, I like a lot to be honest.” I nodded and took a sip from my drink. “I hope we can do this more often..” he looked at me with his beautiful smile on his face. I started to get shy and smiled. “I hope so too.” He carefully grabs my hand. “I like you for a while now, I hope you feel the same about me.” “Yes I do..” he squeezed my hand slightly. “I hate it that they were right about us, imagine all the bullying.” I groaned. “Oh yes especially from Chip and Calum.” We both laughed. “I hate them already.” “Yes me too, I can see the looks on their faces already.” He laughs and nods. “We need to protect each other from them, I have your back if your have mine.” “Don’t worry Arthur I have your back 100%.” He pulls my hand to his face and slightly kissed it. “Thank you..” I blushed at him. “No problem.” We both sat there for a few more minutes. Smiling at each other as two crazy love birds who just confessed their feelings.

[riya-kaur]

calum thomas hood

summary: everyone knows about the crush you and calum have on each other, but still, the two off you brush it off. calum thinks hiding his feelings by acting differently will help him get over you, but it doesn't.

cw! swearing!

eight years.

part two!

december had quickly approached by, which meant soon it would be everyone's favourite holiday: christmas.

this year, you had decided to tag along to a ski retreat with ashton, mali-koa, and your absolute favourite person in the world- calum hood.

you had first heard about this weekend trip on thanksgiving, when everyone had gathered round michael's to celebrate his newborns' first thanksgiving.

after your interest was peaked, you decided to ask if you could tag along, and ashton and mali jumped with joy accepting, whereas calum stayed stone-cold.

so nearly a month had passed, the car that was parked outside your house, honking impatiently.

"fuck" you muttered as you sat on your suitcase, hoping to press down some of the weight. your hands pulled at the zipper, you let out a sigh as you continued to tug on it.

"you're gonna break it" a deep, familiar voice says from behind you. you turn your head, meeting calum's soft eyes as he leant against the door frame with a cigarette in his hand.

"can you make yourself useful then, and help?" you sneer as you throw your hands up in the air. calum chuckles before he walks past you. his steps stop once he reaches your window. he takes his cigarette from between his lips and burns it out before tossing it outside.

"move" he nods his head to the side.

you sigh as you stand up from the suitcase, taking the same position on your bed.

your eyes observe calum as he kneels down beside your suitcase, "you sure there's nothing you can avoid taking?" he asks as you he lifts up the top of the case.

your eyes fall onto calum as he lingers a stare on your clothing that lay at the top; swimsuits and your underwear.

flustered, you reach over and shut the top of the case, "nope"

calum shakes his head before muttering something under his breath. he places a heavy hand on the top of the case, forcefully pushing down as his other hand found the zipper. in a swift movement, his hand pulls around the case, zipping it close.

"easy" calum retorts. he stands up and lifts the suitcase up onto its' wheels, "can we go now?" he asks, you nod before thanking him. the two of you make your way out of your house, and you lock it from the outside before catching up to calum.

he sets your suitcase in the trunk before the two of you take a seat in his car.

the journey to the resort was a quiet one. you tried lightening the mood by humming along to the radio, but once you saw calum giving you a glance, you settled your lips in between your lips, feeling embarrassed.

the only talking he did throughout the drive was when mali, his sister had rang him. letting him know that her and ashton had bought the food shop and had made it to the cabin you were all staying at.

what had felt like hours, the two of you had finally arrived.

"what took you guys so long?" mali exclaims, opening up the front door wide. "someone wanted starbucks" calum rolls his eyes before walking past his sister with both his and yours' suit cases in his hands.

"i got it for everyone!" you retort, setting the cup holder down on the table in the hallway before hugging mali.

ashton then comes running into the hug as he wraps his arms around you both.

"come on, cal" mali shouts over her brother. "no, thanks" he mutters. "calum thomas hood, if you don't get your ass over here right this second, i'll show everyone that picture of you dressed up as a bratz doll" mali rambles but as soon as she threatened calum he came jogging over beside you and ashton.

you turned your head slightly and held your arm out to calum. his eyes flicker between your arm and your eyes before letting out a sigh.

he moves his gaze over to his sister, giving her a death stare. his arm hovers over the small of your back whilst his other arm tightly wraps around ashton's shoulder.

the four of you stand there laughing before pulling away. "that was cute," mali giggles, picking up a cup of coffee from the table.

your move your eyes over to calum, "d'know what would be even cuter?" you ask him. "what?" he snaps back. "you dressed as a bratz doll" you giggle, taking small steps towards him.

you let your hand rise to his hair, your fingers combing his hair. he looks at you, embarrassed. his cheeks turning a deep red. once you realize what you were doing, you quickly retract your hand back, dropping it to your side.

"shit, sorry. i don't know what-" you began to ramble, "it's fine, " he huffs. you nod awkwardly before trying to change the conversation.

"so room situations?" you ask as you look over at mali. "there's three rooms" mali begins. "and only one master suite" she finishes as she nods her head over at calum.

"so?" calum asks, shrugging his shoulders. "you're gonna have to share, calum"

"fuck, no. you take the suite and share with her" calum shakes his head. "stop being difficult calum, besides i've unpacked my stuff already," mali exclaims. calum looks over at ashton, "c'mon mate" ashton speaks up. "i'm totally fine on the couch" you pipe up as you twiddle with the rings on your fingers.

"it's fine" calum says once again, "you're with me, i guess" he let's out a sigh as he grabs the suitcases, trekking them up the stairs. "come on, then"

"coming!" you hurry up the stairs, following him into the master suite.

"we should set some ground rules." calum starts. "good idea," you return. "you have that half of the room, and i'll get this half." calum points at the opposite side of the room, letting you know which side yours was.

"seriously?" you raise your eyebrows at him. he nods his head, shaking his head to the side. "calum, that's so stupid. we're not kids"

"fine, what rules did you have? he asks. "i dress here, you in the ensuite. i want the side of the bed closest to the window and no bringing anyone back here cause i don't want to walk in on anything that you're up to" you list.

"is that everything, princess?" he curtseys in front of you with a sarcastic tone, and his eyes stay glued to you as he does so.

you put up your middle finger, aiming it towards him, he simply rolls his eyes.

"we should unpack"

whilst the two of you were finishing up unpacking, mali called you both down for dinner.

the four of you sat around the fireplace, pizza boxes scattered around you all as you sat and watched 'gilmore girls', the boys complaining at every chance they had.

whilst absent-mindedly watching the tv, you reached for the last pizza slice in the box. once you had felt another's hand already on the slice, you jerked your hand away.

"take it," you look over at calum, who had now moved his hand away, nodding his head over at the slice.

"no it's fine, it's yours." you shake your head before letting your eyes fall on the tv again. "just take it, y/n," you hear him say, but you simply shake your head to the side, keeping your eyes on the tv.

calum sighs before picking up the slice, which you saw out of your peripheral eyesight.

seconds later, you see him open his palm out to you, "here, take it" he says. you look down at his palm the see that he had tore the pizza in half.

you hear ashton say something in the background which made calum roll his eyes, "take it y/n, i made it fair" he shrugs. you give him a nod before taking one of the halves out of his hand, "thanks cal"

after finishing up, the four of you decided to play some card games, which led to every game being won by mali.

"what can i say, i'm older so i'm wiser." she smiles proudly. the three of you chuckle at her as she takes a bow.

"well, tonight's been fun guys" you pipped up, standing up from the floor, which you were seated on.

"i'm gonna get some sleep for tomorrow" you say, "make sure you guys set your alarms" mali exclaims, "yes mom" you roll your eyes playfully at her.

"goodnight guys," you smile. "i'll be up soon" calum says. you give him a nod before making your way into your shared room.

you lock the bedroom door behind you before pulling out a pyjama set; an oversized black tee and some short, baggy, grey shorts.

you headed over to ensuite, pulling your hair up in a messy bun on the top of your head, strands falling onto your face, to help frame your face.

you then washed your face and patted it dry before beginning to brush your teeth.

as you brushed around the toothpaste in your mouth, you heard a lazy knock to the door. knowing it was calum, you headed to the door, unlocking it.

"hey" he says, dropping his phone on the bed. with you not being able to reply with the toothpaste in your mouth, you gave him a small wave before returning back to the ensuite.

you once again shut the door, thinking he would change into his pyjamas.

once you had finished brushing your teeth, you called out to calum, "can i come in, cal?" you ask.

"yep" you hear him say, with that you open the door to see him already laid in bed.

he pulls the covers over himself, but before he does so, you scan his body to see what he's wearing: a black tank top and grey joggers.

you walk around to your side of the bed, slipping under the covers.

you laid on your back as you stared at the ceiling. the room was dark, but with the small lights from the window coming in, you could see calum in the same position as you.

you felt your eyes becoming heavy as you closed them. you had felt like you were falling asleep until you heard your phone ringtone blare out. "shit, sorry," you apologise as you scramble out of the bed to grab your phone of the table.

you checked your phone to see crystal calling you, and you slipped out the room, shutting the door behind you. but you stayed in front of the door as you answered her call.

"y/n, how was the drive?" she asks, "mali mentioned you came with calum" you giggled at the thought of mali and crystal talking about you and calum.

"yes, we did. it made sense to just take one car" you whisper. "has calum made a move yet?" she squeals. you furrow your eyebrows, "what'd you mean, made a move, crys?" you ask.

"what do you mean, what do i mean? this is so obvious y/n, " she starts, "everyone knows about you and calum, " she ends. "babe, there is no me and calum, i'm pretty sure he hates me," you pipe up. you hear crystal cracking up on the other side of the phone. "y/n, surely you've noticed how he acts around you"

"like friends?" you question. "ask mali, she'll back me up" crystal says.

you try ending the conversation as soon as you can, wanting to not talk about this topic. and you definitely weren't going to ask mali either about her thoughts. that would be embarrassing.

after ending the call, you made your way back into the bedroom, tiptoeing back to your side the bed. just in case calum had fell asleep.

you slip under the covers, placing your back against the mattress again. "was it crys?" calum asks. you look over at him and watch his biceps flex as he tucks his hands behind his head.

you hum in response, "is she okay?" his voice laced with concern. "she's all good cal, baby and mike too," you answer, and you feel his head nod.

"goodnight y/n"

"goodght cal"

it was now the next day, you had woken up to bright flash to your eyes.

you stirred in a warm embrace, nuzzling your head into the pillow.

"look how cute" mali's voice is heard in the room. you blinked open your eyes as you took in your surroundings.

shit! your hand was hung loosely around calum's bicep, your calf slightly tangled with his leg, and your head was nuzzled in his neck.

you brushed yourself off of him, causing him to stir, "what's happening?" calum asks, his voice hoarse and croaky.

"nothing!" you say quickly. a bit too quickly.

mali giggles before turning her phone around, showing you both the picture she had taken, you noticed calum had his head on yours, one hand still behind his head whilst his other laid dangerously low on your back.

you felt your cheeks growing red as you turned away from them both. calum clears his throat before sitting up on the bed.

"me and ashton are heading to the slopes, you guys woke up late so we'll meet you there" mali informs the both of you, you give her a nod before you watch her leave.

"i'm sorry" he apologizes. you shake your head as you look at him, "no that was on me, i was on your side of the bed, shit i'm sorry" you ramble.

calum follows suit and shakes his head, "it's not that deep, right?" he asks. "of course, not" you faked a smile before excusing yourself to the ensuite.

maybe everything crystal had said to you yesterday was getting in your head, making you unconsciously act out.

you tried brushing off the feelings, but you couldn't. you started replaying times when you and calum were together and the little things he used to do. you always thought he hated you, but maybe he didn't?

"you nearly done in there?" you hear calum ask from the other side. "just a few minutes" you call out. you snap out of your thoughts and start brushing your teeth before washing your face.

you walk back into the room, beelining straight to the wardrobe. as your hands were occupied with finding an outfit, your eyes sneakily fell on calum before he entered the ensuite, locking the door.

"fuck" you muttered, letting out a heavy breath that you didn't notice you were holding in.

once you had found an outfit suitable to the cold, you applied some light makeup: blush, mascara, and lip balm.

you then called out to calum, letting him know you'd be waiting for him downstairs. whilst making your way downstairs, you pulled your phone out of your jacket pocket, dialling crystal's number.

she answered after the first dial, "i need your help, i'm going crazy. like i don't want to be dealing with these feelings right now crys, i don't know what the fuck is happening to me. one minute, i think he's a jerk, and then the more i start thinking about him, i get butterflies in my stomach, and they hurt crys, it fucking hurts" you rambled over the phone, not even allowing her a moment to speak.

"say something," finally reaching downstairs, you take a seat on the couch, awaiting for a response. "are you okay?" your eyes widened when you recognized the voice over the phone as not crystal's.

"perfectly fine, mike." your cheeks turning into a deep rep shade, "where's crys?" you ask, a nervous laugh coming following suit.

"she's out with sierra, she left her phone at home," michael says. "oh okay, well, no need to let her know i called, but i should be going now," you try to hurry the conversation to an end.

"okay, no worries" he says, "y/n?" he says quickly after. "are you sure you're okay?" he asks. you let out a little sigh, "i'll be fine"

"ready to go?" calum says running down the stairs, he stands at the end of the stair, looking over at you. you give him a nod, "one sec" you mouth to him.

"i have to get going, mike. i'll see you soon. " you finish off the call after hearing michael saying his goodbyes.

"is he okay?" calum asks you, as he watches you now walking over. he give him a nod. "we should probably get going, it's like a twenty minute walk" calum informs you.

"can't we take your car?" you ask, frowning your lips. "we can't, there's no cars allowed up there" he says. "but we can take a cable car?"

the two of you stood in line for one of the cable cars. it wasn't busy, so you both managed to get a cable car for the both of you.

you both sat on opposite sides to each other. looking down, you watched as the cable car left the tunnel, your eyes widening at the extreme height.

"is this a bad time to say i'm terrified of heights?" your eyes find calum's soothing brown ones as you nervously place your bottom lip in between your lips.

"just don't look down, okay," his voice soothing, he leans forward slightly, watching as you twist the rings on your fingers. you nod your head at the advice.

but you felt your chest becoming too hurt as you exhaled heavier breaths. "hey, you're gonna be okay" he quickly rushes over to your side, sitting beside you. "sit back" he says and so you do.

he let's one of his hands cup your cheeks, "just look at me, focus on my breathing, okay?" and so you start following his breathing pattern. once you had calmed down, you realized calum's thumb rubbing circles on your cheeks.

you looked up at him before glancing at his hand that was still on your cheek. he quickly let go, clearing his throat, to help fill the silence.

"we're here" he spoke in monotone, whilst looking out the glass.

he stands up, waiting for the doors to open, you follow behind him as he walks out.

the exit tunnel was extremely overcrowded, which hinted at the fact that the slopes would be busy.

"c'mere" calum says, reaching out for you hand, pulling you against his chest as he lead you both out of the exit tunnel.

your body melted against him, his chest pressing into your back, making you weak in your knees. his hands settled on your waist as he guided you.

once the two of you had finally left the tunnel, you were both met with the brightest snow on the slopes.

"let's go look for the others," calum says as he pulls himself away from you. your lips turned into a small frown at the loss of warmth. not wanting him to see you, you quickly plastered a smile on your lips before giving him a nod.

after minutes of searching, the two of you had regrouped with mali and ashton. the four of you decided to have some hot chocolates from one of the pop-ups. so whilst ashton and calum went to go buy them, you and mali sat at a table.

you noticed mali giving you a wide grin, "what?" you giggled. "nothing," you could tell she was lying, so you simply just raised an eyebrow up at her.

"it's just you and calum -" she starts, but you quickly stop her. "i feel awkward talking to you about this. he's your brother." you shake your head.

she opens her mouth to start speaking again but gets interrupted by ashton and calum, placing the hot chocolates down on the table.

calum takes a seat beside you whilst ashton sits besides mali.

the four of you make mindless conversations whilst sipping on your hot chocolates.

after what was around an hour, ahston and mali decided the wanted to ski down the slopes.

"you guys wanna join?" ashton asks. "you guys go ahead, i'll watch you three," calum gives you a quick glance, "i'll stay with you" he says before finishing off his drink. "we'll find something else to do," he says.

you quickly shake your head, "no cal, you should go, i don't want you to miss out" you argue. "no, i don't even want to ski, we'll go find something else, okay?" he asks. "are you sure?" you ask him and he responds with a nod.

"we'll see you guys later then" ashton says. "let us know if you end up going back to the cabin" mali says before running off to catch up with ashton.

"so what'd you wanna do?" you ask calum.

"sleigh ride?" he raises his eyebrow whilst asking you. "that's sounds perfect!" you squeal.

so the two of you make your way over to the sleigh carriages, taking a seat in an unoccupied one.

the two of you sit back whilst you watch the reindeers start to take small steps forward.

"so, have you always been scared of heights?"

you turn your head to look at calum, "not always, but as i got older, i guess i got sacred of the lack of stability and control" you say, "sorry that was a bit deep" you giggle. calum gives you a smile in return.

as the forty minute sleigh ride went on, the more the two of you talked, on a personal and connected level.

ashton and mali had also made their way back up to you guys.

"it was honestly so fun!" you exclaim as you tell ashton and mali about the sleigh ride. you notice calum's lips turning into a smile as he watched you ramble about how good the sleigh ride was.

"cal" mali exclaims, trying to regain calum back in from his daydreaming. calum replies with a hum. "what did we always do up here when we were younger?" she smiles as she jumps up and down on the spot.

calum rolled his eyes playfully, "snow angels" he chuckles. "come on, everyone!" she announces as she falls back onto the snow, letting her arms and legs push around the snow as she flaps them in the snow.

the three of you follow suit as now the four of you create snow angels.

once the shape was imprinted in the snow, mali and ashton rose back to their feet, and you once again followed shortly behind them. "need a hand," you giggle as you watch calum, struggling to get up.

he hums as he reaches for your hand. before you know it, you feel him tug on your hand, making you fall forward and on top of him.

your face inches apart as your hands now lay on his hard chest. you look up to his eyes as he looks down at yours. he places his hand on the low of your back.

"hey" he smiles. "hi" you smile back. "y-y/n" he whispered, and you hummed in response.

"get a room!" ashton chuckles. you notice calum bite his cheek before opening his mouth again, "you're on me," he says. "oh, yeah, shit, sorry," you rambled as you quickly found your stance back onto your feet, brushing of the snow that was on your clothes.

"what the-" you begin to say as you feel something being thrown at you. you turn around to see mali throwing snow balls at you. you giggled before bending down to create a ball of snow in your hands.

you stood back up and threw it on her back.

"snowball fight!" ashton called out.

and there, the four of you were throwing snowballs at each other.

after throwing multiple at ashton and mali, you decide to throw some at calum. so you had two snowballs in your hand, about to throw them in calum's direction, but before you could, you felt a heavy weight being thrown to your head, making you trip over your feet.

"fuck! are you okay?" you hear calum say, panic in his voice, as he rushes over to your side.

you brought your hand to your head as you rubbed it. "it's hurts" you winced. "i'm so sorry" he repeats as he brings his hand over yours, rubbing the place he had hit you with the snowball.

he then moved my hand from it, letting his lips leave a small kiss on the area. "i should take her back" calum says as he helps you up on your feet. you shake your head, "i'll be fine"

despite saying you were fine, calum still made you go back to the cabin with him. you told mali and ashton to stay out still and to still keep having fun.

the journey back to the cabin was pretty much quiet except when you were back in the cable car, you felt your head starting to pound so you winced from the pain and calum had asked you if you were okay.

once you had gotten back, you went straight into the bedroom and got changed, calum doing the same in the bathroom.

you were sat in the bed as you massaged the side of your head.

"how're you feeling?" calum asks as he enters back into the room, this time with a tracksuit on.

"i'll be fine, calum," you shake your head as you look up at him. you watched as he walked over to your side of the bed, kneeling down in front of you.

he didn't say anything, just simply looked up at you as his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb creating shapes on your cheek.

"you confuse me" you scoff as you catch his eyes with yours.

"what do you mean?" he asks as he rises from his knees.

"i thought we were getting along on this trip, cal. i thought you were lossening up around me. i thought you had dropped your jerk act, but as soon as you do, you put it back on again. why? why won't you let in?" you let your hand intertwine with his, tugging on it, making him take a seat beside you on the bed. which he did.

"how long have we known each other for, y/n?" calum ask, you furrow your eyebrows, "eight years"

"eight years, it's been y/n" he starts. "eight years of me being completely and utterly infatuated with you. eight years of me wanting you for myself, eight years of having you consume my every thought. eight years of knowing i couldn't be with you because i don't deserve you, eight years' worth of songs that were written about you because i couldn't bring myself to tell you how i'd felt"

whilst he was expressing his feelings, you noticed at some point he had reached for you hands, he was looking down at them, twiddling with them.

"i thought if i could try distance myself away from you by acting the way i have, it would hurt less but fuck it hasn't" he sighs.

he looks up into your eyes, "can i be selfish for a second?" he asks as his eyes flicker to your lips.

you nod as you watch him lean into your lips, placing a delicate kiss on them.

he moves his hands, so he's cupping your cheeks, "i've wanted to do that for so long"

"i wish you told me" you shake your head. "i'm sorry y/n about everything," he says as he rests his forehead against mine.

"it took you eight years calum" you begin, "let's not make its nine, okay?" you nod before letting your lips catch his.

a/n: i wanted to extend this, but i didn't want this to be too long, so it'll be either be a part two to this or i might change it a little bit to be its own work to be different but regardless it'll be the next post.

also this took me forever to writeee :'(

[kaleidoscopecth]

Something for the Pain

MDNI

pairing: luke hemmings x reader

summary: a splitting headache has you looking for something, anything, to stop the pain. luckily for you, luke is always willing to help.

warnings: oral (f receiving), dirty talk, subby luke, mommy kink, desperate and needy luke, happy ending massage (?)

word count: 5.4k

a/n: happy new year pookies! i honestly can’t begin to describe how thankful i am for all of the support my writing has received since i started posting on here. hopefully i can get more blurbs out— and soon, that calum fic. anyway, this was a request, but i took some liberties since i wasn’t super excited to write period sex (don’t think i ever will ngl) but i still hope u enjoy!!

as always, thank u for reading and to my two friends who helped me come up w the plot for this. you know who you are ;)

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

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Every breath you took, every blink, sent a fresh wave of pain ricocheting through your skull. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it started. Maybe it was during the final descent, the plane’s cabin pressure clawing at your temples. Or maybe it was the hours leading up to it—the sleepless night, the lack of water, or the mounting exhaustion of the journey.

By the time you stepped off the plane with your friends, the faint pulse of a headache had already begun to bloom behind your eyes. But what started as a dull ache soon unraveled into an all-encompassing, throbbing migraine.

Now, you sat slumped in the bed of your hotel room, blinds drawn tight against the snowy glare outside. Your eyes remained shut as you wrestled with the unrelenting pain, trying to block out the world beyond the pounding in your head.

It was Calum’s birthday trip. This whole escapade had been meticulously planned by an overly eager Ashton and Luke, who’d insisted on the novelty of a winter getaway. You and Michael had been swept along in their enthusiasm, though neither of you had much interest in winter sports.

“Ashton thinks Calum needs a change,” Luke had reasoned during the endless group chat debates. “He’s always had summer birthdays. Let’s give him a proper winter wonderland for once.”

It wasn’t exactly a bad idea—on paper, at least. But the journey to the hotel had been its own kind of trial. Fans swarmed the boys at the terminal, their excitement only amplified by the festive mood. Luke and Ashton handled the crowd with ease, chatting and signing autographs, while Michael managed a few tired smiles. You, however, could barely keep your grimace at bay as each flash of a camera sent fresh jolts of pain behind your eyes.

You worried that your mood might be misinterpreted. The last thing you needed was people twisting your obvious discomfort into something malicious, another rumor or misstep in the public eye. But for now, none of that mattered. All you wanted was a moment of quiet to try and claw your way back to some ounce of normalcy.

You fell back on your bed, forcing your mind to think of ways to ease the pain. You had already tried some ibuprofen, but your mind failed to come up with more alternatives.

Luke had noticed something was wrong, he always noticed when something was wrong. His eyes would get all worried, glazed over with anxiety as he tried to figure out why you were in such a foul mood. He was always so attentive when it came to you, so sweet.

You met the band when they signed your shoegaze group to their record label. Although the deal didn’t last, the friendship that came out of it certainly did. You played bass—a fact that, for some reason, seemed to strike a chord with Luke from the start.

What followed was an unusual friendship. Luke gravitated toward you in a way that was hard to ignore, and you were more than sure he had a crush on you. Subtlety was never his strong suit, after all.

It started small—just little frowns tugging at his pink lips whenever someone mentioned another guy’s name or the lingering glances he’d send your way. But slowly, it escalated. The frowns turned into sharp quips about their character, jokes veiled as casual observations about how no one seemed good enough for you.

Then came the parade of girls—each one with the same eye color, the same hair, the same biting wit. They never stayed long, thankfully. Still, it felt ridiculous to think Luke Hemmings, of all people, might actually want you—a shy bassist in a band still struggling to take off. And yet, the thought burrowed into your mind like an itch you couldn’t scratch, always there, always nagging.

When it was just the two of you, it was different. Luke seemed mesmerized by you, his eyes tracing the movements of your fingers over your bass strings, hanging onto your words like they were rare treasures. It was flattering. It was terrifying.

He’d tried to follow you to your room earlier offering to keep you company. But the thought of him seeing you so raw, so vulnerable, was unbearable. You forced a fake smile, brushed aside the dull ache in your chest, and politely declined.

It wasn’t ideal, not by any stretch. You craved company—craved him—but the weight of your misery felt too heavy to share.

So, you decided to lie down, all the blinds drawn shut, and hope—pray—for the ibuprofen to finally kick in. Sooner or later, you were certain, the pain would ease. In the meantime, you busied yourself by mentally planning your outfit for the birthday dinner you still hoped to attend.

You weren’t exactly sure how much time had passed since you first collapsed onto the hotel bed, but the knock at the door shattered the fragile quiet. Squeezing your eyes shut, you willed yourself to ignore it, hoping whoever it was would go away.

But the knock came again, louder this time, insistent.

Your eyes snapped open, staring at the darkened ceiling as another knock echoed through the room. “Y/N?” Luke’s voice cut through the quiet, sharp and clear, sending a fresh wave of pain ricocheting through your skull. Wincing, you pushed yourself upright in bed.

“What do you want?” you called out, not bothering to mask the irritation in your tone. Luke was a puppy—probably the kindest, most caring person you’d ever met. Even if your annoyance slipped through now, he’d likely shrug it off, understanding the circumstances later.

But instead of his usual easy response, silence followed. A beat passed, long enough for a twinge of guilt to creep in. Regret began clouding your thoughts as you replayed what you’d said, wondering if you’d gone too far.

“Are you okay?” Luke’s voice finally broke the stillness, softer now, almost cautious. You could picture him perfectly: standing just outside the door, biting the corner of his lip where a lip ring once sat, waiting in tentative silence.

With a defeated sigh, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and padded softly to the door. Cracking it open with caution, you winced as the bright hallway light pierced through the darkness of the room, intensifying the ache in your head.

Luke’s eyebrows shot up the moment he saw your expression, concern etched into his features. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes darting across your face, searching for any clues that might explain your obvious discomfort.

You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the doorframe. “I have a headache from hell,” you muttered, rubbing at one eye with your knuckle.

“Damn,” Luke murmured, his voice low with sympathy. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

Pushing off the doorframe, you shuffled back to the bed and collapsed face-first onto the mattress. The sudden movement made the throbbing in your skull even worse. You heard Luke’s footsteps draw closer, then felt the bed dip as he laid down beside you.

Slowly, you turned your head to look at him. His wide blue eyes were full of concern, his blonde curls falling messily against the bedspread. Up close, you could see the faint stubble dusting his jaw and cheeks, and your fingers itched with the impulse to reach out feel it beneath your fingertips.

“Since we got to the airport,” you admitted. “It’s been getting worse all day. By the time we got here, I was barely able to stand.”

Luke let out a quiet huff through his nose, his fingers tapping absentmindedly on the mattress. “What about tonight?” he asked gently. “Do you think you’ll be able to make it?”

You let out a bitter laugh, immediately regretting it as another sharp ripple of pain shot through your skull. “Thank God Calum’s birthday isn’t today, because at this point, I don’t even know if I’d make it.”

Luke’s lips twisted into a concerned frown. “Have you tried anything to make it go away?”

“Luke, do you really think I’m choosing to suffer like this?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “I took some ibuprofen earlier, but it didn’t help much. I’ve been wracking my brain for home remedies, but nothing’s working.”

Luke hummed thoughtfully. “I heard drinking water can help,” he suggested, a hint of optimism in his tone. “Or maybe a massage? I think I even read somewhere that eating almonds helps.”

You let out an irritated breath and shifted onto your side, pillowing your head on your arm. For a brief moment, you thought you caught Luke’s eyes flick down to your chest, slightly more on display from your position, but the glance was so quick you couldn’t be certain.

“I’ve been drinking water,” you mumbled dejectedly. “Hate almonds. But a massage sounds… nice. Don’t really feel like hunting down spa services, though.”

Luke was quiet for a moment, staring down at the mattress. He shifted slightly before mumbling something, his voice too low for you to catch.

You raised an eyebrow. “Lu, I can’t hear a word you’re saying.”

He let out a loud huff and repeated himself, this time louder but still hesitant. “I said… I could give you the massage.” His voice wavered slightly, and he avoided meeting your gaze.

His offer caught you off guard. For a few beats, you just stared at him, unsure if he was serious. But with your head pounding relentlessly, you couldn’t see any reason to refuse. “Alright,” you finally said, clearing your throat. “There’s lotion in my carry-on bag. Go grab it.”

Luke’s eyes widened a fraction, but he nodded quickly and scrambled off the bed in a flurry of gangly limbs. He switched on the lamp by the bedside table—thankfully not too bright—and rummaged through your bag with fumbling hands. After a few failed attempts, he finally pulled out the bottle of lotion. “Got it!” he announced, a triumphant grin tugging at his lips.

“Good.” You sat up in the bed and shot him a pointed look. “Now turn around.”

Luke blinked, his grin faltering. “Why?”

You motioned toward the lotion in his hand. “Because I’m taking my shirt off?”

His cheeks flushed a vivid pink, and his mouth fell open slightly in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me,” you said, raising an eyebrow as you caught the sudden flustered state Luke had taken on. “Did you really think a massage would work if I kept my shirt on?”

Luke swallowed hard, shaking his head. “N-no,” he stammered. “I guess not.” His hand shot up to scratch the back of his neck, the flush spreading from his cheeks to his ears.

“Good,” you replied with a small, teasing smile, rolling your eyes. “Unless that’s an issue for you?”

His eyes widened as if you’d accused him of something. “No!” he blurted, then winced at how loud he sounded. “I mean… no, it’s not a problem.”

You bit back a laugh, too entertained by how flustered he was, and motioned for him to turn around. With a sheepish nod, Luke spun on his heel, facing the wall. Once he was out of sight, you pulled the hem of your shirt up and over your head before lying back down on your stomach.

“Alright,” you called softly, glancing over your shoulder. “Come on.”

Luke turned back around hesitantly, his gaze flickering between your face and the bed as he stepped closer. His cheeks were still rosy, but he managed to set the lotion bottle down on the nightstand without fumbling.

“Where should I start?” he asked, his voice quieter now. His eyes lingered for a moment on the strap of your bra before darting away, and you appreciated the fact that he seemed to be making an effort to remain respectful.

You shrugged slightly, resting your head on your arms. “You’re the one who suggested this, remember? Maybe my shoulders? Anywhere that might distract me from the headache.”

Luke nodded, though you could see the tension in his jaw as he picked up the lotion and squirted some into his hands. You closed your eyes, feeling the shift of the bed as he knelt beside you.

When his fingers finally touched your skin, they were tentative, almost featherlight. You suppressed a shiver at the warmth of his hands but couldn’t help the small hum of appreciation that escaped your lips.

“You can press harder,” you murmured, opening one eye to glance back at him.

Luke met your gaze, and the sight of him made your breath hitch. His cheeks were still flushed, his mouth slightly parted, and his baby-blue eyes had taken on a darker, more intense hue. “Okay,” he said softly, his voice nearly a whisper, as his fingers pressed more firmly into the muscles of your back.

You sighed blissfully, letting your eyes drift closed. He worked with surprising skill, easing the tension in your shoulders with slow, deliberate movements. But then his fingers brushed against the strap of your bra, and you heard him suck in a sharp breath.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice shaky. “I— I’m sorry, but—”

You turned your head slightly, meeting his uncertain gaze. “What’s wrong?”

Luke bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes flickering between your back and the mattress. “Your bra,” he mumbled, barely audible. “It’s kinda… in the way.”

You raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smirk at his hesitation. “So take it off,” you said simply, your voice soft yet firm.

Luke let out a small, choked sound, his ears turning crimson. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Luke,” you assured him, turning your head away again to give him permission.

You felt his hands tremble slightly as he reached for the clasp, carefully undoing it with a soft click. There was a strange, charged silence as he worked, as if both of you were hyperaware of the situation.

Awkwardly, you shimmied the straps off and tugged the bra free without exposing yourself, tossing it aside. The cool air against your skin made you shiver slightly, but Luke’s hands returned quickly, steady and warm.

“Better?” you asked quietly, your voice softer than before.

“Yea—yeah,” Luke murmured, pressing harder on your back.

The ache in your head was still there, but it had faded enough to be manageable. Luke's breathing had grown heavier, and his hands lingered a little longer as they moved over your skin. You could feel the press of his knee against your hip, and though you couldn't see him, you could picture the concentrated look on his face—the flush still painting his cheeks, the way his lips parted as he breathed.

A warmth began to build inside you, unexpected and entirely uninvited. It was startling to feel this way with a headache still dulling your senses, but given the circumstances—being half-naked with Luke's hands roaming your back—it wasn't entirely shocking.

That's when you remembered a little fun fact about orgasms relieving pain. A ridiculous idea briefly bloomed in your mind before you immediately shot it down. You focused instead on clinging to your composure, determined to let Luke finish the massage without letting your thoughts spiral any further.

But then he pressed on a particularly tense spot near your shoulder blade, and a soft moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

Luke's hands stilled on your back instantly, his breathing audibly heavier. The air in the room seemed to shift, tension crackling in the silence.

Neither of you spoke, and just as you started to second-guess your reaction, Luke's hands began to move again. His touch was slower now, more deliberate, and the curiosity bubbling inside you became harder to ignore.

Deciding to test the waters, “Luke,” you let out a soft sigh with his name. “That feels good.”

His hands froze again, and you heard him exhale shakily. “Yeah?” he asked, his tone raw and breathless.

His fingers resumed their movements, but this time they dipped lower, brushing just above the waistband of your sweatpants.

“Mhm,” you hummed, letting your eyes flutter shut, fully aware of the effect you were having on him.

His hands hovered over the small of your back, and his touch grew more needy by the second. He seemed almost desperate, pressing down on the spots that had made you let out soft contented sighs as if he were searching for more.

Every time you gave in, let out little moans accompanied by his name, you could feel him begin to work harder— desperately doing anything to hear you sigh his name. It was undeniable now, the heat that pooled in your lower stomach as he continued.

“Lu,” you said softly. “I was thinking.”

Luke’s hands didn’t falter, nimble fingers working out the knots in your muscles. “About what?” his voice was strained with what you hoped was desire, tinged by the heavy breathing.

“Orgasms are known to be a pain reliever,” you turned back to face him, not missing the way his eyes widened. He was still blushing, and when your eyes took in the rest of him, you didn’t fail to notice the way he strained against his pants.

He didn’t reply, but you didn’t need him to. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” You asked breathlessly, biting your lip as you let your eyes linger on the tent in his own sweatpants.

Luke’s eyes followed your gaze, and he yanked his hands back to cover himself. “Y/N, oh my God, I am so sorry—“

Your throat went dry, watching as Luke scrambled to get away from you. You slid up from your position on your stomach, sitting on your knees as you reached for Luke’s hand. His eyes immediately flickered down to your exposed chest, and you gripped his wrist.

“Were you thinking about it, Luke?” You asked softly, looking up at him through half lidded eyes. “Were you thinking about touching me… making me come? Did all my little noises help your fantasies baby?”

Luke swallowed thickly, his gaze darting away before meeting yours again. “Fuck.”

You scooted closer to the edge of the bed, taking his hand. “When I took off my bra, I knew you got worked up. You wanted to see me, hmm?”

The way Luke’s eyes had glazed over was intoxicating, his eyebrows furrowing into an almost pained look as he nodded slowly. You took this as a sign to continue. “You wanted to touch me?”

Luke nodded.

“Say it baby,” you whispered.

Swallowing thickly, he nodded rapidly. “Fuck— yeah,” his breath hitched as you slowly moved his hand closer to your chest. Your heart beat rapidly as you met Luke’s gaze.

“Show me how you wanted to touch me,” you instructed, letting go of his wrist. His hand hovered over your breast, and Luke licked his lips before tentatively touching your skin. The second his fingers brushed against your soft flesh, he let out a strained moan, squeezing slightly, his fingers grazing over your nipple.

Your head fell back, a soft moan slipping from your lips as you guided Luke's other hand to your chest. His wide, blue eyes were heavy with desire as he gasped, “Fuck, Y/N, you're so hot.” His voice was laced with need. “Can I-?”

You nodded, and he didn't hesitate. Leaning down, he wrapped his lips around your hardened nipple, his groan muffled against your skin. The sensation sent a shiver through you, and you moaned his name as his tongue swirled expertly, teasing and soft.

Slowly, he lowered you onto the bed, his mouth switching to your other nipple while his fingers pinched and rolled the one he'd just left, making your back arch.

“You wanna help with my headache?” you teased, your voice breaking into soft moans.

Luke let out another muffled groan, his mouth never leaving your chest. “Make me come,” you added with a smirk, tugging gently at his curls.

That was all it took. A low, desperate sound left him as he pushed you back down onto the mattress, his large hands trembling as they roamed over your body with unrestrained hunger. “Please let me taste you,” he whimpered, his voice breaking into your collarbone as he kissed and sucked at the delicate skin, leaving marks with each pass of his mouth.

You gazed down at him, tugging harder on his curls and making him whimper against you. “Make this headache go away, baby boy,” you whispered, your words electrifying him. His reaction was instant—he slid your sweatpants down your legs with feverish urgency.

“I'm gonna make you feel so good,” he murmured, almost incoherently, his breath hot against your skin. “Fuck, I'll make that headache go away, I swear.”

You watched, breathless, as he tugged your underwear down, leaving you completely exposed beneath him. His gaze was heavy with devotion and lust, and you let your head fall back against the pillow, commanding softly, “tease me a little.”

Luke whimpered at your words, his desperation palpable as he leaned down, dragging his tongue in a long, deliberate stripe along the inside of your thigh. The warmth of his mouth left goosebumps in its wake, your body trembling under his touch. When you looked down, his eyes were nearly black, pupils blown wide, glazed with arousal.

“Now kiss your way there,” you said, your voice a sultry encouragement that had him obeying immediately. His lips trailed reverent kisses across your folds and inner thighs, his breath fanning hotly against your skin. You could feel his restraint faltering, his need undeniable.

“Please,” he begged, looking up at you, his features twisted in desperation. “Please let me taste you. I-I need to.”

Your breath caught when you noticed one of his hands had drifted between his legs, palming himself through his sweats as he begged for permission. The sight made your stomach tighten with want. Without a word, you grabbed a fistful of his hair and guided his mouth to the aching heat between your legs.

Luke's lips wrapped around your clit, and the sensation was immediate and overwhelming. You let out a sharp moan, your back arching off the bed as his tongue worked against you with fervor. His muffled groans vibrated against your sensitive skin, and his eyes fluttered shut, as though he was savoring every second of having you like this.

You could hear Luke groaning against you, low and desperate as you writhed beneath him. His sounds were mainly muffled by your body, his tongue working on you eagerly and leaving you breathless. He gripped your tights, keeping them open for him as he worked.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” youcooed, your voice trembling as a moan escaped your lips. The praise spurred him on, his licks growing faster and more desperate. His shoulders shook with effort, and you could tell his hands weren't just idle —he was touching himself, his movements frantic, his muffled moans vibrating against you.

Luke's eyes fluttered open, locking with yours. His pupils were blown wide with lust, and the sight of his flushed face, lips slick and busy against you, made your breath hitch. He never broke contact, taking your clit into his mouth and sucking gently, the sensation so intense it sent tremors through your legs. His blush deepened, his hand moving even faster, completely lost in his desire to please you.

The sight of him like this—Luke, who always carried himself like he was larger than life, now utterly undone before you—sent a jolt of power and pleasure through you. His need, his complete surrender, was intoxicating. He whimpered against you, his hand wrapped around his cock as he devoured you, and it was a vision you never dared to let yourself dream of before.

Your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging just enough to guide his movements. He let out a needy whine at the pull, his eyes fluttering closed as if your touch alone was enough to send him over the edge. His name fell from your lips in a breathless gasp as your back arched. ”That's it, baby,” you encouraged, your voice heavy with pleasure. “You're making me feel so good.”

Luke whimpered again, the sound shaky and desperate, his hips rocking against the bed as though he couldn't help himself. “You taste so good,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible, muffled against you. “I can't—I need—“ His words dissolved into a whine as his tongue moved faster, his hand gripping your thighs as though he were afraid you might pull away.

You watched as Luke's other hand-—the one wrapped around himself-began moving faster, the desperation evident in every stroke. Your grip on his hair tightened, and you bit your lip as a low whine escaped your throat. Leaning back on one elbow, you adjusted to get a better view of him falling apart beneath you.

His free hand slid up to your chest, kneading the sensitive flesh feverishly as if he couldn't get enough of you. “Oh, fuck,” Luke moaned against you, his voice trembling with need.

“Y/N, fuck, l'm gonna—” His movements faltered momentarily, and then his entire body tensed. A long, muffled whine spilled from his lips as he buried his face between your legs, taking your clit into his mouth as though it were the only thing grounding him. You moaned, the sound mixing with his as you watched his eyes flutter shut, his body shivering under the intensity of his release.

Heat coiled deep in your belly at the sight of him—at the realization that he had been so consumed by pleasuring you that he couldn't even hold back. He had touched himself to the sheer thought of making you feel good, and that fact alone sent a thrill through you.

“Look at you,” you purred, your tone drenched in satisfaction. “Such a good boy for me, making a mess for mommy.”

The word hung in the air, heavy and electrifying. For a moment, Luke froze, his breath catching audibly in his throat. Then, with a deep, shuddering exhale, a broken whimper escaped his lips, his cheeks burning crimson as the flush spread down his neck. His body trembled, every muscle taut, as though the word had unraveled him entirely.

“Gonna make a mess out of you, mommy,” he whined, his lips latching on to your clit again. He worked tirelessly, licking and sucking at your skin. Your body vibrated with pleasure as you arched your back, letting out a crescendo of whimpers.

“You're doing so good, Lu,” you moaned, grinding your hips up against his mouth, desperate for more friction. Luke, catching on to your need, slid his hands up your thighs, steadying you before he slowly slipped a finger inside.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped, the words spilling out before you could stop them. The stretch sent a shiver through your body, your legs trembling as your eyes fluttered shut. He curled his finger just right, hitting that perfect spot, the motion perfectly timed with the flicks of his tongue against your clit. The combination made your head spin, stars dancing behind your eyelids.

Luke seemed completely lost in you, his own eyes shut tight, savoring every sound and movement you made. His tongue worked you with precision, his devotion clear in every flick and stroke.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, and he let out a muffled groan against you. The vibration sent a new wave of pleasure through your body, making your back arch. “Just like that, baby,” you whispered, voice shaking. “Don't stop.”

“Never,” he groaned. “I wanna make you come, mommy.” His pace quickened, his finger curling in deeper as he added another one, making your entire body tense.

“Fuck, Luke,” you whimpered, tightening your grip in his hair as your hips continued to buck against him. Each time they did, he let out a small whimper. His tongue never faltered, though, swirling and flicking over your clit in ways that made your eyes shut tightly.

His free hand roamed your body, kneading at your hips and ass, exploring the length of your stomach and reaching up to your chest. When his fingers closed around your nipple, you couldn’t help but cry out.

Luke’s movements were desperate and needy, as if he were worshipping every inch of you. God— the sound she made. Each of his whimpers, the broken moans, the soft sound of his lips as they sucked at your clit or the flicks of his tongue, all drive you closer to the edge.

“Look at you,” you managed to get out, forcing your eyes open to meet Luke’s. “You’re such a good boy for me, such a good little toy for mommy.”

Luke’s eyelashes fluttered as he looked up at you, the look of his blissed out face almost sending you over the edge completely. He had beautiful lips, that was just a fact, but you didn’t know how much you’d enjoy the sight of them working on you— glistening with both you and his spit.

“You’re so good at this,” you praised, the tremor in your voice only proving your point. “Such a good boy, always making me feel so fucking good.”

His moan vibrated through you, and you felt him press harder against your core. His fingers picked up speed, creating a delicious friction that made the coil in your belly tighten, your breathing growing erratic.

“Oh baby, I’m so close,” you gasped, your own hand coming to play with your chest in an effort to facilitate your release. Your tights were trembling against his head, and he groaned in response. His tongue worked tirelessly, his fingers curling in just the right way. “Please don’t stop, don’t you dare stop.”

You watched as Luke shook his head slightly, a muffled, “I won’t,” escaping his lips as he latched on to your clit yet again. This time, he sent you over the edge.

Your back arched with the force of your release, your legs shaking violently as a loud moan ripped from your throat. Your thighs clamped around Luke’s head, keeping him in place as you rode out your high. His hands held you firmly, savoring every bit of your release on his tongue.

As your breathing steadied and your body relaxed, Luke pressed a tender kiss to the inside of your thigh, his gaze shy as he looked up at you. “Did I do okay?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “Is your headache gone?”

“Fuck,” you said, letting out a breathless laugh, tugging him up by his curls until his lips met yours. The kiss was messy and heated, and you could taste yourself on him as your fingers tightened in his hair. Luke let out a quiet groan, kissing you back feverishly, his hands sliding to your waist to pull you closer.

“Headache's gone,” you murmured against his lips, brushing a stray curl from his face. His cheeks were flushed, his gaze wide and filled with awe as he looked at you. “You did so well for me, baby. I'm proud of you.”

His lips curled into a bashful smile, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, peppering kisses along your skin. “I've had a crush on you for the longest time,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

A soft hum escaped you as your hands ran soothingly over his back. “I know,” you said simply, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his brows lifting in surprise. “You knew?”

You nodded, letting your palm rest against his cheek. “Of course, I did,” you replied gently. “How could I not? I can’t say I don’t feel the same way, especially when you're so eager to please and look the way you do. But it's more than that, Luke. It's you—just you.”

The blush that spread across his face was endearing, painting his cheeks and the tips of his ears a deep pink. He bit his lip and let out a soft, nervous giggle, his eyes briefly darting away before coming back to yours.

Your gaze shifted downward, and the sight of him still painfully hard stirred a pang of sympathy-and desire-in you. Leaning closer, you brushed your lips against his ear, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Tell you what,” you murmured, trailing your fingers lightly down his chest. “You were such a good boy for me, Luke. When we come back later, how about we take care of that little problem you've got between your legs? What do you say, baby?”

His breath hitched, and he let out a small, needy whimper, nodding eagerly. “Y—Yes, please,” he stammered, his voice trembling with anticipation.

You smiled, kissing him again. “Good.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

hope u enjoyed 😁🫶 might make a pt 2 to this using another request but idk

[orangeinecstasy]

cherry cola, pt. one ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟcalum hood

paring: calum hood x clifford sister reader (fem implication)

summary: it's once again time for the yearly clifford beach house stay, but things are different. working on their new album the rest of the guys join, hoping the change in scenery will spark some inspiration. will the work get done? or will a forbidden romance blossom?

an: hey everyone! i wanted to try and do a series so here's the first part of seven. i'm up for taking requests for things you guys would want to see in it. lmk your thoughts! much love

cw: smoking, drinking, cursing, age gap, smut

wc: 750

Monday

The sun pours down on your skin as you pluck the cherry, garnishing your soda. Separating the firm sweet fruit from the stem. Biting into its flesh as you work the pit from its center. You always loved summer days like this. Lounging in a beach chair as freshly mixed cherry cola clouded your mind. Your summer bliss was quickly interrupted by your mother calling out your name. Dissipating your sickly sweet fog as you took your earbuds out. “What?” 

“Your brother and his friends are here,” she repeated, irritation lacing her voice. 

You bit back a smirk as you gathered your things, slipped on the t-shirt you used as a coverup, and making your way back to the house.

Every summer, your mom dragged you and your brother, Micheal, to the family beach house. Even when he had gone off to be in a band, she would always remind him to try and come back for our yearly trip. She wanted you to give you the chance to having a bonding experience despite him being eight years your senior.

Now you were nineteen, and the tradition continued. But, this time, it was different. His bandmates decided to tag along on the trip, saying that maybe the change of scenery would help them write the album they’d been working on for the past couple of months. Your mother easily folded into the idea. “Anything to help my boys!” as she would always say. 

When your mom told you the situation, you couldn’t help but smile, biting your cheek, trying to hide your reaction as your stomach twisted in on itself. That means you got to see him. Calum.

You’d known him your whole life, so many memories littered with him. When he would come over, strumming a guitar and mumbling lyrics to himself. Late nights spent talking when he would come home from tour, legs grazing each other innocently. Each time, causing a spark to shoot up your body and your cheeks to flush. As you’d gotten older, your attraction to him had only grown stronger. But you never pushed. You were young and in college, an average nobody. And well, he wasn’t. 

The bright pastel purple color that was so vibrant in your young memory was now faded, standing, and storms slowly eroding it from the wood. You mourned the color sightly as you made your way up the steps. Sliding the glass door open, you’re met with cool air and laughter as you enter the house. “Look who decided to join us,” your mom says, causing embarrassment to waft over you as everyone turns to look at you. 

Your eyes lock with his. His skin was tanner then you remember, eyes crinkling as he smiled. His buzzcut has grown out messily, but it’s cute, childlike almost. “Hey,” you wave shyly as if you haven’t known these people your whole life. 

“S’up, kiddo,” Micheal asks, ruffling your hair. You quickly smooth it back down, letting out a small groan of annoyance. “Nothing,” you mumble half-heartedly. You quickly greet the others with a soft hello and a smile before rutting through the fridge and finding another cherry coke. 

Everyone slowly departs from the kitchen, scattering to various concerns of the house. All but Calum. He lingers, hip leaning against the counter as his eyes rake up your legs, the shirt you were wearing barely covering anything. He would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t like it. 

His tongue darted between his lips before he spoke. “So this is the famous beach house I always heard about,” his arms are crossed over his chest, t-shirt straining against his chest and biceps. “Mhm, that it is.” You nod, opening your soda with a crack as you hop onto the counter. Cold granite sends a shiver up your spine. 

“You, uh,” you can hear the gears in his head turning as he selects the appropriate word. “You look good,” words are silky, but his body is so ridge, so scared to give in. His Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard, regretting his words as soon as he said them.

You bite your cheek to hide your smile, a metallic taste melting onto your tastebuds as you bite down harder. “Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself,” he chuckles, relaxing at your words.

There he is— peeling away his skin and bones and opening the deepest part of himself to dip back into the sticky sweetness he missed so desperately.

[helenvader]

I didnt even realize the wig was so hated. I was really shocked to see Charlie in the trailer because I was convinced they were going to hire another actor to play annatar to have the whole big reveal. And while I did immediatly get used to short haired elves i think its really fun to have more long haired ones.

Yes, the wig seems to be an issue. To be honest, I don't consider it weird at all. I can see why people think it's odd, but I just see a different version of Sauron and that's it. :)

I was *thrilled* to see Charlie as Annatar! I didn't expect it, either. No idea how they will go about it, my theory is that Calum Lynch will be shown in the beginning as the face the Elves see, and Charlie's face will be used afterwards for US. Or something like that.

I have seen theories that they will only show Charlie when he's revealed as Sauron, but I very much hope it won't be so!

I had no issues about the short hair, either. :)

[edge-oftheworld]

what if teeth actually is about navigating paranoia/psychosis in a relationship and it’s actually the narrator who is unreliable?

[ughkat]

Body worship smut with calum 👀👀👀 maybe his s/o is feeling insecure about their body so he's gotta make them feel good

worship - c.t.h

a/n: i made the descriptions and dialogue of readers body insecurities a bit vague, being i didn't want the story to be too triggering to anyone struggling. but the plot is still calum making reader feel loved and beautiful after feeling a bit insecure! ❥

calum x fem!reader

smut, negative body image, oral, missionary, petnames

not proofread

-

I sighed in frustration, standing and sulking in front of my body mirror. Listening to the sounds of Calum shuffling through clothes behind me, I ran my hands slowly over my hips, then my waist, feeling my self esteem lowering the longer I studied my figure.

Calum and I were getting ready for dinner, as he'd been planning a casual night out for the two of us for a few weeks. Oblivious to my focus on my physical appearance, Calum paced our bedroom absentmindedly, searching for clothes and shoes.

I hesitantly began to dress myself in the casual black dress laying on the chair beside me, sighing quietly as it laid itself against my curves. I stared at my reflection, picking out insecurities that seemed to be only visible to me.

"You okay?" I heard Calum's deep voice approach from behind me. He placed to hands on my hips, looking at me in the mirror. I forced a fake half smile, looking down at my feet as he rested his chin on my shoulder.

"Yeah." My voice heightened as I lied, nodding slightly. Calum narrowed his eyes, turning me around by my shoulders. He looked at me suspiciously before speaking.

"I know when you're lying." He smiled softly, "Talk to me, what's wrong?". I sighed, half embarrassed to explain my minor insecurities to him.

"Nothing looks good." I began, motioning to the dress on my body, "I just feel gross, I hate my body." I muttered under my breath. I bit my cheek as Calum's expression changed.

"Y/n." His voice softened, "You're so fuckin' beautiful." He brought me in closer by my hips. I looked up at him with a half smile, I could feel his affectionate behavior already beginning to make me feel better.

He leaned down and connected our lips softly, bringing a gentle hand to the side of my face. My stomach fluttered at the feeling of his lips against mine. He pulled away slowly, his gaze burning into mine.

"I wish you could see how beautiful you really are." He spoke genuinely, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. I looked down, blushing at his words.

"Me too." I mumbled. He ran his hands adoringly up and down my sides, his touch sending a chill through my body. Calum brought himself closer to me, our chests pressed together snugly.

"Let me show you how gorgeous you are, baby." He spoke deeply, just above a whisper in my ear. I shiver shot down my spine, my eyes glanced to his briefly as he pulled away. A small smile escapes the corner of my lips.

Calum guided me by my hips, his body leading us to our bed during an unbroken kiss. The back of my thighs hit the mattress, Calum gently let me fall to the bed. I let out a small giggle as he hovered above me, his hands planted at the sides of my head. He wasted no time bringing his lips to my neck softly, his mouth dancing against my skin with passion. I let out a small coo, squirming under Calum's touch.

Calum brought two hands up to the straps of my dress, watching me close as he pulled them down slowly. He made his way down my body along with the clothing, watching me as the fabric carefully made its way down my torso, pulling it off my legs gently.

"My pretty girl." Calum praised as he ran his hands along my waist, bringing his lips to my ribs. My back arched slightly at Calum's mouth against my torso, his lips sucking and kissing softly. He kissed gingerly down my ribs then to my stomach, planting a final kiss on my panty line. I looked down at him, his smug eyes meeting mine.

"So fuckin' perfect, baby." He spoke deeply, running his hands along my torso as his eyes traveled my body. I blushed at his praise, the puddle in my underwear growing by the second. Calum trailed his two hands slowly to my panties, his calloused fingertips dragging against my skin. I wiggled my hips eagerly at his teasing fingers, his index and middle fingers playing right underneath my waistband.

"Eager, love?" He chuckled at my incapability to stay still, beginning to drag my underwear down my legs slowly. My breath picked up at the chill air hitting my exposed heat.

"You're already dripping for me, baby." He smirked. I blushed in embarrassment at my neediness, looking down at Calum with a smile. He watched me carefully, bringing up a single finger to my slick folds. A small gasp escaped my lips at Calum's calloused touch, my back arching slightly.

"Hmm." I hummed softly at the new sensation, my eyes fluttering shut slowly.

Without warning, Calum brought his soft lips to mine between my legs, kissing deeply at my dripping mound.

"Fuck, Cal." I gasped, arching my back harder at the unexpected sensation. I tossed my head back in ecstasy. Calum hummed into my slit, his eyes closing as he began to swirl his tongue around my clit. I threw a hand down to his hair, my fingers interlocking tightly with his curly locks. I watched him in awe as he so effortlessly worked his mouth against me, his hands traveling over my torso and thighs tenderly.

He opened his eyes, looking up at me as he performed his oral work on my heat. Calum let out a deep chuckle into my folds as I let out a loud whine. I ground my hips into his mouth, his lips and my lower half quickly finding a steady rhythm with each other.

Calum pulled away from my dripping slit abruptly, bringing his face back up to mine with a smile.

"Scoot up, baby." He ordered gently, wiping the slick from his mouth with a quick thumb. He assisted me in moving to the head of the bed, keeping me on my back. I watched him as I caught my breath, his quick movements in tossing off his t-shirt and jeans. He sat back on his knees, placing my legs on both sides of him.

"Fuck, babygirl." He growled under his breath, running his hands along my thighs. His eyes wandered across my body intensely, making me self consciously move my arms and legs in an attempt to hide myself from his gaze. Calum furrowed his brows at my insecure actions, gripping my wrists bluntly and placing them on each side of my head.

"No, Lemme' see all of you. I want every piece of that perfect body." He spoke deeply, trailing his hands down my torso again gently. I blushed at his admiration, clenching my thighs together at the sight before me.

Calum placed two hands under my knees swiftly, pushing them up to spread my legs. I gasped at his sudden movement, giggling slightly at his eagerness. I watched with a half-agape mouth as he pulled his boxers down slowly, his erect member shooting up with excitement.

Keeping a hand under my knee, he used his other hand to guide himself to my entrance, running his tip along my slick folds teasingly. I let out a needy whine, bucking my hips closer to Calum's cock.

"Stop teasing." I whined softly through heavy breaths. Calum chuckled at my newfound neediness.

"Don't like being teased, love?" He cooed with a tilted head, prodding his tip slightly at my entrance. I whimpered at his continued taunting, gripping the sheets beside me impatiently.

I let out a sharp gasp as Calum swiftly pushed himself inside me fully, placing his free hand under my other knee. He watched me closely as he slowly began to catch a rhythm. My mouth fell open, emitting a series of whimpers at his unexpected entrance.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good." He groaned, watching his now slick member pounding my hole rhythmically. My eyes fluttered shut, rolling back as Calum hit my walls repetitively.

Calum's brows furrowed as he focused on his thrusts, sweat beginning to bead at his forehead while his muscles flexed with each stroke. A loud whine followed by a curse escaped my lips as Calum kept up his pace.

"You sound so pretty taking my cock, baby." He smirked, watching me with admiration, "God, you're fuckin' perfect." He finished under his breath in a growl. Calum sped up his pace, bringing a thumb down to my throbbing clit. I tossed my head back at Calum's quick circles being worked on my sensitive bud.

"Fuck, yes, Cal." I whined between thrusts. My eyes opened lazily, watching Calum in awe as he pounding me vigorously. His eyes were glued to my body as if he was looking at a never before seen masterpiece in a gallery. His mouth was dropped into an "O", his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

My walls began to clench around his shaft, making my toes curl as Calum kept up his steady pace. He let out a small chuckle as he noted my approaching climax.

"Gonna cum, baby?" He spoke deeply, quickening his pace with his thumb. I nodded frantically, knowing if I tried to speak, it would just be whining and moaning.

"Cum for me, babygirl. Let go around my cock for me." He growled, leaning down closer to my face. I let out a loud moan, tossing my head back with an arching back, releasing intensely around Calum's shaft. I gripped the sheets tightly, Calum keeping up his rhythm for his own climax.

"That's my pretty girl." He smirked through a heavy breath, "So pretty when you cum for me.".

He watched his own pounding cock with furrowed brows, the sounds and views of my overstimulated whines and body pushing him to his own finish. Calum came with a series of curses and groans, falling back to sitting on his knees after pulling his tired member out of me lazily.

Calum scooted up beside me, our heavy breathing mixing with the sound of the white noise filling the room. He looked at me lovingly as he caressed my arm with a sluggish finger.

We let a few moments of comfortable silence and catching our breath pass before I turned my head to him as he spoke.

"You're so pretty." He flashed a cheeky grin, though he was being genuine, his childlike expression emitted a giggle from me.

"I'm being serious." He urged with a half joking tone, sitting up in his seat slightly. I sighed, looking at his features closely. Remembering all of the reasons I fell in love with him to begin with.

"I love you, Cal." I smiled with a chuckle, planting a lazy kiss on his arm.

"I love you, more.".

[afatallovesong]

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

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

Happy birthday to the main man himself

At Your Convenience

A Calum Hood one shot

18+, Smut, NSFW

Word Count: 15,821

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[souperbloom]

hey, i had an idea for a fic where reader is part of the band and is dating ashton. she originally wrote 'english love affair' and it gets chosen on the dice while on tour, and ash gets jealous about her performing it coz she wrote it about someone else so he gets moody - mostly angsty, but kinda smutty towards the end?

the face i made when i first read this, omg. friend, you are a GENUIS. YES.

enjoy, you little genius. <3

————————

my english love affair [A.I.]

🎲 boyfriend!ash x bandmate!reader

after rolling the dice and performing a song about a girl you used to see, Ashton gets jealous over the fact that he’s not the one you’re singing about.

a/n: the boys have nicknamed you ‘peanut’. no reason, just thought it was cute and have been dying to use it :3

CONTENT WARNINGS: angst, tension, angry Ash, ref. to past hookups, strong language, ref. to weed, teasing (sexually & literally).

WORDCOUNT: ~3.9k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

"Thank you, London! Goodnight!"

You watch with wide eyes as your frontman, Luke, blows kisses into the arena, at fans that had been reaching out to the stage since the moment the curtain fell.

A rush of adrenaline washes over you, faced with yet another insanely energetic crowd that had poured nothing less than their hearts out to you.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," You mouth out to them, your hands clasped over your chest in pure adoration.

Above all the screaming, a thunderous drum rollout plays you off; the familiar, rhythmic tapping sounding off like sirens in your head.

It extends for a few minutes longer than normal, as your bandmates throw gifts into the crowd.

You can’t help but look behind you at the drum kit, something you always find yourself doing no matter when or why. For your lover is the one behind those tubs; the one providing you with one of the most wicked bow outs of the century.

Your eyes quickly find the flurry of sweaty curls and drumsticks, anticipating his cymbal crashes as you’d learned them like the back of your hand.

As he destroys the final beats, his eyes glance up to you; a frantic, rage-fueled expression adorning his face with the final cracks at his cymbals.

The crowd grows louder, catching your attention— you take your eyes off of him for a moment, as the rest of the boys start to huddle around you.

"You fuckin’ killed it tonight, Peanut." A broad hand grips your shoulder, Michael ducking down to whisper in your ear beyond your ear piece.

"You too, Mikey."

Another hand wraps your back, Luke coming up to your side to give you a gentle squeeze.

As moments pass by, you and the rest of your bandmates get in order for the final bow. With Michael on your right and Luke on your left, you lean forward to watch Calum join the line.

Your brows then furrow when you notice a certain somebody taking a few extra minutes to toss his drumsticks into the crowd.

"What’s up with him?" Luke leans into the side of your face, gesturing towards your boyfriend with his eyes.

All you could do is shrug, before plastering a smile on your face and speaking through your teeth.

"Who the fuck knows."

Ashton seemed off, to say the least. You weren’t quite sure where his head was at since the second Luke sent that damn dice into the crowd. But the most you could do in this moment was grin, filled with overwhelming happiness at the reception of this incredible crowd.

"He’s coming," Luke mumbles, before switching whatever monotone face he had on into a smile.

"Finally."

You watch as Ashton joins the line, trying to sneak a glance at him over Luke and Calum’s bodies.

But he doesn’t even look up. His lips were painted into a straight line as Calum bends down to initiate your bow out.

You thought to yourself, as your bodies bent down to face the floor:

Whatever the fuck’s gotten into him better have a damn good explanation.

After the final bow to close another sold out show, you and the rest of the boys had made your way offstage.

Being the only girl in the band had its perks— you got your very own dressing room 90% of the time, one decked out with all of your favorite fixings and beverages.

But the best perk of all, was that the afterparties always happened in the boys’ room.

"What a fuckin’ show!" Calum pumps his fist triumphantly, as he is the first to lead you all into the room. He jumps up, smacking the top of the doorframe with his palms and letting out a hoot.

The rest of you funnel in, filled to the brim with adrenaline and post-show excitement.

"God, I know— The energy… fuckin’ electric, man…" Michael still seems in awe of it all, with unkempt pink locks that had been disturbed by him tossing off snapback.

"I feel like I could run a goddamn mile," Luke blurts, jogging in place.

You and Ashton are the last two to enter the room, Ashton still having barely spoken a word to you, or anyone else, since in your fifteen minutes of being off stage.

"You guys want anything to drink?" Calum asks, while Michael and Luke make their way to the couch.

"I’ll take a coke," you shrug, trying to ignore the elephant in the room that just so happens to be your brooding boyfriend.

"Really, Peanut? After a show like that, you’re settling for a can of coke? How about we put some Jack in that bitch and call it even?" Michael looks at you with teasing eyes as you wait for Ashton to find his seat.

Post-show parties and conversations were a ritual for you as a band— each of you needing your own times in the spotlight to debrief, and let off steam.

These gatherings you shared were like a perfectly thought-out routine. Mike and Luke sit down on their couch, Cal grabs the refreshments, and you make your way to your assigned seat on Ashton’s lap. Sometimes, Ashton would roll up a spliff for the four of you to share, especially if the show was one like tonight’s.

But Ashton lingering on his phone in the doorframe was never part of this routine. You didn’t like it one bit.

Michael, Calum, and Luke begin to talk amongst themselves, leaving you standing and watching your beau with worried eyes. His knuckles were practically going white as he anxiously ticked, mindlessly clawing at the pocket of his dress pants.

A snapping sound grabs your attention from across the room.

"Hey, lovebirds— the fuck’s up with you guys?" Luke quizzes, his brow quirked as Calum hands him a can of spiked seltzer.

You shake your head, "Fuck if I know."

Your words make Ashton’s head snap up from his phone; sending a bothered glance in your direction. But you just ignore it. You didn’t want to risk ruining a perfect night over some trivial bullshit.

"Well? Gonna’ take a seat, Ash? That chair’s got you and Y/N’s names all over it."

You stifle a giggle at Michael’s reference to you and Ashton’s routine, your eyes bouncing back and forth between your pink haired friend and your unamused boyfriend.

"C’mon baby, sit down," you coo, walking over to the brown leather arm chair that has been deemed your throne, "Let off some steam."

Ashton lets out a huff, causing the general chatter of the room to grow quiet. The rest of you watch in solace as Ashton shoves his phone in pocket, and walks towards you.

He brushes past your shoulder coldly, before sitting down with a loud sigh.

"Dude. What’s going on with you?— Lighten the hell up."

Calum’s jab only earns a nasty look from Ashton, but you just remain still, standing above him while he leans back comfortably in his arm chair.

There’s an awkward silence surrounding you all, before Ashton’s fingers start rhythmically tapping on his thigh.

"Well? I’m sitting," he says dryly, the first words he’d spoken in a while, "Happy now?"

Luke and Michael toss each other a look, before Calum walks over to you with your drink.

"I’d be happier if you put a smile on that face," Calum says, leaning down to be parallel with Ashton’s steely expression. You try your hardest to remain stern, putting your poker face on lockdown.

As much as you hated to see your boyfriend so solemn and serious, you found it a bit amusing.

Ashton was one of the least serious people you had ever come across, which is one of the reasons why you worked so well as a couple.

He’d tell jokes, you’d laugh, then fire one right back at him. It was just one of those indescribable instances that made the two of you perfect for each other.

But seeing him so stone-cold, so inexpressible, you were sure it was some sort of joke.

You test your luck, shuffling between his legs and fluttering down into his lap. Usually, his hands would instantly grab ahold of your waist, before chatting up a storm. But instead of that, his hands completely dodged your body, folding them into his lap with his elbow resting on your thigh.

"Should I play music? Not gonna lie, I fuckin’ hate the vibes in this room right now…" Michael breaks the tense, ongoing silence.

"Oooh, can you play some Zeppelin?" Luke requests.

"Queue up some ‘Sabbath while you’re at it," says Calum.

As the other boys bicker about what songs to play, you’re left staring down at your lover. His blank expression had yet to dwindle, and you were certain that if you had stood in front of him, he’d be able to shoot daggers into your back with his stare alone.

"What’s the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?" You ask the question quietly, ducking down into his ear. Your hand travels up to toy with the baby curls that sat at the nape of his neck, which he normally goes crazy for.

But even with you asking, he didn’t move a muscle.

"Okay," you shrug, helpless, "fine. Don’t say anything then."

A pinprick tugs at your heartstrings upon Ashton’s refusal to speak. But you try to push that worrisome feeling down with the rest of your intrusive thoughts, hoping to focus solely on having a good time.

Dazed and Confused by Led Zeppelin starts to roll through the speakers behind the ambiance of conversation, with Calum and Luke now aiming the discussion towards the show.

"Can we just talk about how Luke’s fly was down the entire time? Like, from curtain fall—"

"Fuck you mate," Luke defends, the heated little argument grabbing your attention, "I swear I pulled it up! Must’ve fallen down— ‘er something…"

"It’s true, I saw him do it," You interject, raising your drink in the air.

"Okay, but how did it manage to fall down by the second song of the set? That’s gotta be a record or something… is anybody keeping track?"

Michael practically spits out his drink at Calum’s observation.

"Oh, ha ha, veeery funny. Let’s all laugh at the amount of times Luke has gone out on stage with his fly down… I swear, it’s like Peanut is the only one who actually gives a shit about me." Luke leans back into the couch, looking down at his fly before taking a sip of his own drink.

"Speakin’ of Peanut… dude, what the actual fuck was that?!" Michael shoots up from his seat excitedly, his eyes going glossy at you.

"What was what?" you ask.

"English Love Affair? You haven’t performed it in a while. Not like the way you did tonight, at least. How’d it fuckin’ feel?"

"Singin’ about your mistress in her hometown must’ve been a real culture shock, huh." Calum mumbles.

You can’t help but laugh, "It wasn’t that extraordinary… But, I’ll admit, it’s a damn good song. I did write it for that reason—"

"Don’t be so humble, Y/N." Luke jokes.

As you and the rest of the band go back and forth, you notice Ashton’s leg out of the corner of your eye. It had started feverishly bobbing up and down, with him still not speaking a word throughout this entire conversation.

"The crowd was eating it up, too— you were like a fuckin’ machine out there."

Your cheeks flush pink at Michael’s compliment, "You don’t mean that."

"Oh, but I do. God, I can’t even describe it… When you sing that song it’s like you get possessed ‘er some shit."

Calum snorts, "Yeah, possessed by some good pussy."

That comment seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back, for Ashton is suddenly shooting upward in his seat, sending you flying with him.

Your head whips to face him, his cheeks glowing red hot. He only utters four words, before guiding you off of his lap and standing up himself.

"I need a fuckin’ smoke."

The lot of you watch in shock as Ashton angrily barrels out of the room, slamming open the door and making it hit the wall with a loud crash. You all jump, before passing each other confused, worried glances.

"What— what the fuck was that?"

You let out an angry huff, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers. Luke only chuckles, before tossing his hands in the air.

"Well, Y/N— looks like it’s time for you to do your thing. Go tame that raging bull."

Your eyes land at least once on all of the boys, each of them giving you a ‘you probably should go out there and get him’ type of look.

"Why does it always have to be me?" You sigh, but Michael sucks his teeth.

"I think you already know the answer to that one, Peanut."

After the boys had shooed you out of the dressing room, you set off down the halls to look for Ashton. You checked every corner, every bathroom, every area with a chair to sit and ponder in; but the angry mess of a dirty blonde mullet and dress pants was nowhere to be found.

You contemplated giving up after circling the same hallway for a third time, your legs feeling like wet noodles as you trudged along the dimly lit corridors—

But you then felt your shoulders relax when you noticed a rock propping open the outside door.

"Ashton?" You call out, pushing the steel-clad door just enough for you to pop your head outside.

And sure enough, there he was.

"Ash," you say again, a bit louder this time, stepping over the rock timidly and snaking your way through the gap.

He was leaned against a lamppost that lit up the parking lot, with tense shoulders and his brow furrowed. He stared off into the abyss, taking a pull from his joint.

You felt as though you were walking on eggshells, trying your hardest not to go into panic mode and start screaming your own head off.

Or, apologizing profusely for something that you may or may not have done.

"Baby?" you try your hand at sweetly grabbing his attention, one last time.

"What?"

"Are you alright?"

"I’m fine."

He ashes his joint, before taking another pull, the veins in his neck practically popping through his skin. You take a step closer, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Are you sure?"

He blows out smoke through the side of his lips, "Yes."

"Don’t lie to me. You’ve been acting like such a brat all night," You warn him, finding the stern, coldness in your voice, similar to the one he’s been firing off at you and the guys since he stepped off stage.

There’s a brief moment of tension in the air, lingering lowly above your head. You hold your breath for a moment, before Ashton is tapping his joint with his eyes glued to his shoes.

He hadn’t looked up at you. At least, not yet.

"If you don’t want me acting like a brat, then don’t call me a fucking liar." He mumbles to the ground, an angry baritone rumbling through his voice.

"I didn’t call you a liar. I just said, don’t lie…" you drop your hands to your side, taking another step towards him.

"…Now tell me what’s wrong with you before I smack that joint right out of your fuckin’ hand."

Your threat brings Ashton to lock eyes with you. You’re finally able to get a good look at the angry crimson hue that surrounded him; with shaky pupils and a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.

"You really wanna know what’s wrong with me, Peanut?" He mocks the endearing nickname like poison rolling off of his tongue.

"Well, I—" You stutter, taken aback by his serious tone. He then chuckles dryly, lifting the joint and resting his hand on his chin.

"You really have no idea, do you?"

"Obviously not, asshole." You hated to sound so brash, but you were still residually upset by his ignorance.

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts. Only to say the stupidest thing you had ever heard in your life.

"You think I enjoyed watching you parade around onstage tonight— all smiley and giggly— singing about some girl you fucked one time? A time so memorable that you went off and wrote a goddamn rock ballad about?!"

Your eyes widen in dismay.

The rumors were true, you thought, Ashton had finally lost it.

"Oh my god— you’re joking… You’re joking, aren’t you?" Your face melts into pure, sadistic amusement. But Ashton’s face hadn’t faltered.

"Do I look like I’m joking?" He ask the question seriously.

"You cannot be serious, Ash. You’re telling me that you’ve been moping around all night because of a fucking song I wrote eight years ago?! Meanwhile you were the one who suggested putting it on the fuckin’ dice!"

He finally finishes his joint, flicking the roach to the ground and stomping it out with the toe of his boot.

"If I had known you’d perform it like she was actually there on that stage fucking you, I probably wouldn’t have suggested it at all."

A shaky chuckle flies past your lips. "God, you are such a baby! I cannot believe that you’d stomp around and make such a fuss over this! You’re really serious right now, Ash? Like, really?"

"As serious as a goddamn heart attack, Y/N."

The only emotion you could process at the moment was anger. You were completely baffled by his behavior, unable to muster up even a sentence that would aid in your argument.

"…What’s mine is mine, baby. It’s as simple as that. Can’t blame me for gettin’ a little jealous sometimes." His tone of voice had softened, significantly.

Knowing him well enough by now, after almost four years together, you had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to hold a grudge.

And, of course, you were right. As always.

"Ash, it’s been eight years. You’re gonna have to get over it eventually."

"Well— what if I don’t want to get over it?" He blurts, still stern.

Before you reply, you step even closer to him. Close enough to feel the sizzling hot anger radiating off of the both of your bodies and creating a spark between them.

You hated when he was angry. He hated when you were angry.

But something about that anger made your stomach twist in knots. In the best possible way.

You decided to test your luck. To push his buttons. Get under his skin, a bit.

"Then I’d say you’re being a brat. A whiny, fucking brat."

Ashton chuckles, rather dryly, before lifting himself from his slouched position resting on the lamppost. He towers over you, straightening his posture to show off his much larger frame.

"Takes one to know one, sweetheart."

You could sense the obvious switch in dynamic of this situation. Now clouded with sexual frustration, as opposed to just the regular kind of frustration.

You cross your arms over your chest, swallowing back the newly formed lump in your throat. "You don’t scare me, y’know."

All he does is shrug.

"Don’t think I need to scare ya’ to make you scream. Thought we’ve been over this."

That comment only riled you up more, but you tried to hide it beneath a playful glare, "Is that a threat, Ashton?"

"No no no, baby— not at all…"

He shakes his head, slight sarcasm falling over his tone before he’s snaking his arms around your waist, digging the tips of his fingers into your back.

"…It’s a fuckin’ promise."

The speed in which his lips found yours seemed almost impossible. From the way he had gone from blatantly ignoring your existence, to feeling you up like you were the last thing he’d ever touch.

"You’re mine. Y’know that, right?" He presses you against his torso, clasping his broad hands at the small of your back.

"Mmmmhmm," You sigh into his kiss, as he roughly sinks his teeth into your bottom lip.

He then takes one of your thighs in a handful, lifting it up to rest it gently on his hip.

In the midst of the commotion, you realize that you were still dressed completely in your stage clothes. Clad in an oversized, striped sweater that was stolen right from Michael’s closet, and a short black tennis skirt.

You were fully aware of just how short your skirt was. And to be totally honest with yourself, you loved wearing it.

You loved the way it floated around you as you danced, the way it complimented your platform boots and knee high socks…

But you also loved the absolute chokehold it had on your boyfriend.

You catch your breath as Ashton pulls away from your heated kiss; only for a moment. To admire you, as his hand slowly snakes its’ way up your skirt to grip your bare asscheek.

"This ass," he grunts, digging his fingers into your flesh, "is mine."

"Mhm." You nod again. Affirmative. Your bottom lip was still trapped between your teeth with helpless, puppy dog eyes.

"This face?" He removes his other hand from your back to cup your cheek, "This gorgeous gorgeous face? Is mine. All fuckin’ mine. Ya’ hear me?"

You nod at him, trying to ignore his hand creeping towards the hemline of your panties.

"Need ‘ya to use those words, beautiful. Like the ones you used to write your song, yeah?"

One thing about Ashton was that he never failed to piss you off— but he was also damn good at turning you on.

"…Wanna hear one last bit of your poetry before the only word you’re able to say is my fuckin’ name."

"Ash—" You go to speak, but your mouth clamps shut as he traces your inner thigh with his fingertips.

"Go ahead, Y/N, tell me. Tell me who’s really ‘all you ever think about.’"

His head dips down to your neck to leave a trail of wet kisses, all the way to the base of your collarbone. Your hand finds his hair, tugging at the roots gently with each gentle kiss.

"You. You’re all I ever think about… All I’ve ever wanted—"

Your breath hitches as his teeth bite into your skin, his hand finding its way back to the outside of your thigh to anchor your body against him.

"—All I’ve ever needed."

In a swift motion, Ashton is dropping your leg from his hip, bringing you to teeter on your shaky legs and look at him with desperate eyes.

His head pops up from your neck, pupils wavering and twinkling with lust.

And suddenly, your mind is clouded. All of the things you’ve ever needed in a person was right at your fingertips. Any syllable of a song lyric, any chorus of every single song you’ve ever written.

It was him.

"You wanna’ write songs about getting fucked ‘till you can’t speak, sweetheart?"

At this point, you were too needy to care about whatever words flew past your lips. "Yes, Ashton. Please—"

His eyes darken, a sultry smile climbing across his cheeks for the first time all night.

"Allow me to provide you with some inspiration, then."

In a second, he’s lifting you up by the back of your legs, tossing your body effortlessly over his shoulder. You let out a laugh, slapping his back, his arms, anything you could get your hands on.

"Hey! What the fuck—"

Your ass is fully exposed to the parking lot around you, as Ashton begins to walk. You couldn’t see much, but the most you knew was the direction of your shared tour bus.

He leans his head over to you, whispering a little something in your ear that sent chills down your spine.

"You wanna make music with me, baby? I’ll give you somethin’ to fuckin’ write about…"

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[winniethewife]

I'd make sure the light defeated the dark

(Echo x F!reader X Fives)

Warning’s: Angst, canon character death (And Un-death?), Happy-ish ending

Words: 2201

It was never easy being a strategist for the grand republic army, but it had its perks. She had met some amazing people that she never would have if she hadn’t joined up. Including her two closest friends. Echo and Fives where Arc troopers for the 501st Battalion, She had worked with them several times, and after another successful battle they we’re relaxing at 79’s having a celebratory drink, the two clones playfully competing for her attention, each in their own unique way. Echo stands next to her his hand just barely touching hers, occasionally looking in her direction with a smile as his brother Fives is doing every weird trick in the book to try to make her laugh.  Fives tells an elaborate story about Captain Rex and General Skywalker, that may or may not be based in fact, but was certainly hilarious. Her laugh fills the air with its melodic quality, and Fives smile widens, a victory in his eyes. Echo rolls his eyes with a soft smile lingering on his lips. As she looks between the two of them she has a feeling swelling in her chest, warmth and love. These are her boys and that will never change.

~

She eagerly awaited for them to return from the citadel. She was pacing the barracks as she waited. She had helped them plan every detail, but there are so many unpredictable factors in their plan. Not to mention that Commander Ahsoka had taken General Plo Koon’s place in the mission. There was so little known about the Citadel and what they did there. She thought back to the last time he saw them.

“Are we sure this thing is safe? I don’t want to end up a wall decoration.” Fives remarked as they got ready to enter the carbon freezing chamber.

“You’ll be fine Fives, just breathe.” She said giving him a smile.  She had glanced at Echo and gave him a reassuring nod before they descended into the chamber

Was it reckless of her to make such a promise? Why had she not said something to Echo before they left?  But before she has any more time to think about it she’s interrupted by the sound of the door sliding open and Fives staggered in.

“Fives!” She rushes to him side holding his face in her hands but as she looked into his eyes she saw only sadness. “What’s wrong?” she asked, worry etched in her expression.

“Echo…Echo, didn’t make it. They had us outnumbered. He went in to help…he’s gone. He’s gone.” Fives could barely hold himself up, leaning on her for support. The devastation of the loss of his brother was too much to bare. She gently guided him to a bunk where they sat together, his head resting on her shoulder as she held him gently, starting to process her own feelings. Echo was gone, sacrificed himself for the cause. She knew that there was every chance this would happen, but she would have done anything for this not to happen to them, not her boys. She hadn’t even noticed the tears streaking down her face. The pain was almost too much.

“H-he loved you, you know that right? He…wanted to…after the war… I wanted to, but Echo, he told me that night at 79s, that he wanted to take you out, but he was…so afraid you’d say no… So I…” Fives started to incoherently babble, it wasn’t like she didn’t know how they felt, and she wasn’t blind.

“I know fives, I…I know.” She moved so that they were facing each other and pressed her forehead to his. Tears running down both their cheeks as they looked into the others eyes. They had both lost someone so special to the both of them, but they had each other. “I… I loved him, but, I love you too.” She looked into his amber eyes. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah…Yeah that’s more than okay…” Fives managed to give her a small smile, and in a brief moment of powerful emotions, he pressed his lips against hers. Maybe it was too soon, maybe he wasn’t thinking. But He needed this, needed her. Needed to feel, something other than the overwhelming loss of his brother. She kissed him back, because yes, it was too soon, they weren’t thinking, but they needed something good in a galaxy of bad.

~

The war had taken a toll on them, over time it felt harder and harder to keep going. Finding time for the two of them was even harder. Chaste kisses in empty hallways and moments alone were few and far between. The rumors were that the war was nearly over, but she didn’t get her hopes up. As wandered out of the strategy meeting for an upcoming battle she felt the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders. She was tired, the last two years had been more than one being could possibly handle. As she walks through the all way towards the hanger she feels the familiar feeling of a hand from behind her pulling her hand, guiding her to an empty alcove. Fives sneaking her off for a moment alone. He smiles at her cupping her face in his hand.

“Mesh’la, Glad I caught you before I have to ship out again.” He gave her a smile as he ran his thumb across her cheek.

“I am also glad, Feels like forever since I’ve seen you.” She leans into his touch, savoring the moment she knows is all too fleeting. “Where are they sending you next?”

“Ringo Vinda, it’s a big one, joining up with Doom and his boys. We’ll probably be gone for a while.” He says, trying to be enthusiastic, but being away form each other for so long was hard, It had become harder since She had been promoted and spent more time on Coruscant, and less time out in the field.

“Well, I’ll be thinking of you, every minute.” She said with a sad smile. Fives leans in and presses a quick kiss to her lips, lingering for just a second.

“I’ll think of you every second.” He mutters as he pulled away. She laughed

“Show off.”

~

 The reports that came in from the battle of Ringo Vinda were horrifying. She had read over everything, she couldn’t understand what would make Tup do that. It made absolutely no sense. And talking it over with Kix and Jessie at 79s made even less sense. When Kix got up to use the refresher she joined him sliding into the ladies to cool off a little. It was a very busy night at the bar, she would feel better if Fives was with her, but with everything going on she had more questions than answers. Something was very wrong, Fives would never attack the Chancellor. She just hoped they found him soon and figured out what was going on. As she steps out into the hallway she runs into a trooper.

“Oh, Kriff. Sorry I wasn’t-” She was interrupted by an all too familiar embrace.

“Mesh’la, thank the maker.” Fives gasped, he pulled her against him and burrowed his face in the crook of her neck, taking in her scent once more.

“Fives! What is going on, what are you doing here?” She asked, she was happy to see him, but also shocked. He pulled away from her and looked around scanning for anyone looking for them.

“I don’t have time to tell you everything. There’s, a plot, there’s these chips in our heads and…All of us are in danger. Mesh’la I…  I’ve gotta see this out.” He looked into her eyes pleading. She reaches up and touches his face.

“Fives please, I…I can’t lose you too.” She whispers.

“You won’t I promise” and with that he was gone.

~

“He said it was bigger than any of us, that he only wanted to do his duty, and the the mission and the nightmares…were over. Then…He was gone. I…” Rex had sat down with her in a secluded place in the Temple, trying his best to explain what happened. She was shaking, she couldn’t believe what he was telling her.

“No…Rex, please tell me their looking into it at least? He couldn’t have died for nothing!” She was practically begging him, for answers. He looked so downtrodden, He knew how much She had lost, what he had lost, what they shared.

“I’m sorry…but the chancellor’s doctors are sure it was a parasite.” He tried to be comforting, he wasn’t fully convinced himself, but he had to try to convince her, so she can move on.

“A Parasite? Rex…” She was skeptical, this was more than a virus or a Parasite, there was more to this. She felt the sting of tears in the corner of her eyes, she leaned forward to put her head in her hands. She felt an ache in her chest. She just wanted to hear his laugh, she missed that. She missed the feeling of Echo’s hand just barely touching her own, the sparkle in his eyes. She missed her boys.

“I Know. I guess we’ll just have to see” Rex spoke softly and reached out to touch her shoulder. They were clones, made to fight in this war, but at what cost?

~

When the war was over, it didn’t take her very long to figure out something was very wrong, Despite having deciding to step down after fives death and having lived a civilian life style for a few months everything about this new empire felt wrong. The second Rex reached out saying he was trying to organize a clone resistance movement to help clone defecting the empire she was onboard immediately. But she definitely wasn’t expecting what was to come. Neither was Echo. After being with the bad batch for a while, and coming to terms with his new way of life, he wasn’t expecting the day that he decided to join the clone underground was also the day he was going to be face to face with the love of his life. She felt like her brain was brain short circuiting when he saw him. He had changed, obviously but, at the same time he was exactly the same. Echo is the first to approach putting his good hand on her face as tears come to his eyes.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” His voice was whisper soft and full of emotions, He traced the shape of her cheeks and Jaw, in awe of the woman in front of him.

“Neither did I. I thought. I was sure, you were dead.” She fumbled over his words as she reaches for him, trying everything in her power to keep herself together.

“Not dead just…Very far away.” He said with a smile. “I’m sure, Rex told you…” his voice trailed off, he didn’t really want to talk about everything that had happened to him, He just wanted to see her, hold her, tell her how he felt. “I thought about you, all the time, at least…I’d like to think I did, I know I did once I was out of there.”

“I…I know. I thought about you too, Fives…He helped but, there was always someone missing.” She felt a tear roll down her cheek, she hadn’t talked about Fives in a long time. Echo felt the sadness in her, felt it in himself.

“Fives…You and Him…I heard.” Why was it so impossible to say a whole thought right now? Everything he wanted to say kept getting stuck inside him.

“Yes, He and I were together, after you…He told me…you loved me. And I…I love you too, I just…Kriff this is-” Echo didn’t hesitate, pulling her close and pressing his forehead to hers, he needed to be closer to her, metal limbs be damned.

“I still love you. I know, I know it’s been a long time but, I’ll do anything to keep you safe, keep you with me, keep this… I won’t give up a second chance. If you’re willing to give it.” His breath on her skin, her arms around his neck, it wasn’t the same, but it was damn good.

“More than willing, happy to.” She mutters. “I…Needed this, Needed you to comeback. And now…”

“I’m here. I won’t leave you behind. I promise.” He says sincerely. She flinches.

“Don’t…Promise things, Fives…He made a promise he couldn’t keep and It haunts me.” She closes her eyes as she felt even more tears peaking though. He understood, all too well, he understood.

“Got it, No promises.” His brow furrowed. “What did he promise?”

“That I wouldn’t lose him.” She murmurs as she looked back up at him, watching as the realization flickered in his eyes.

“I see. I’m sorry Cyar’ika, It seems for a while you lost us both.” Echo’s voice cracked slightly at the idea that she’d been alone all this time.

“I’ll be okay, now that you’re here.” She pressed her forehead closer to his, the sensation of having him close again was soothing, after missing him for so long. They had each other now. And they would, for a good long time after.

~

Masterlist

Taglist: @silvernight-m @queerponcho @boredzillenial