#soupster requests

[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."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[souperbloom]

would you be able to write smth with ash or luke abt him and reader trying to get pregnant and they lowk discover he has a breeding kink?? i feel like both of them r the type to want to be fathers so bad so the idea of putting a baby in their girls sends them fckn insane

wrote (most of) this request in the Bahamas, thought i’d put my own spin on it. felt hashtag: inspired.

enjoy <3

————

island time. [A.I.]

🦜 honeymoon!Ashton

freshly married and lost in paradise, you and your husband Ashton make a brand new discovery on your picturesque Caribbean getaway.

a/n: god this is literally the most domestic shit i have ever written (but also not at the same time???) i need to be put down after this one

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut’n’fluff!, brief mentions of drinkin’ & smokin’, exhibitionism/semi-public sex, dirty talk, trying for a baby/mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink (duh.)

the end counts as cockwarming? eye-d-kay!!

WORDCOUNT: TBD

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Light peeks through the silky white curtains of your honeymoon suite, waking you up with the sunshine splashing against your cheeks. You close your eyes tighter, hoping maybe for a second you’d be able to lull yourself back to sleep.

In your daze, you swing your arm over to the side of the mattress, expecting to feel another body lying there. But rather than a broad, sleeping giant, you’re met with a fist full of bedsheets.

You mumble to yourself, finally cracking open your eyes to see that your newly wedded husband, Ashton, was nowhere to be found.

You let yourself sit up fully, only to find a stripped comforter, and a small piece of notebook paper folded neatly in half resting on the pillow beside you.

"Gone surfing. Meet me down by the beach. Love you. x"

That was all that was written, aside from the little animated surfer drawn on the corner of the paper holding his hand in a shaka, and a little speech bubble that read: “Cowabunga, baby!”

You giggle down at the comic, your heart already feeling so full from how amazing this honeymoon has gone so far. It was only day three of your dreamy fifteen-day getaway.

You’d originally agreed to ten but of course, Ashton convinced you otherwise.

It didn’t take long to shimmy out of your pajamas and into that new bikini Ashton had insisted on buying you, down at the little gift shop in the town square. When he saw how your eyes lit up after seeing it on the mannequin, he knew he couldn’t have you go another sunny beach day without it.

So, he snuck down to the gift shop that same night after you went to sleep, and left it beside your pillow the next morning.

The sun had already been up for a few hours, reminding you how surreal it felt to be in such a beautiful, tropical place. Now, as a married woman.

Even the simple task of waking up and rolling out of bed had you feeling like an entirely new person. You were grateful for the days passing slowly, being able to spend much needed quality time with your husband, Ashton.

It still felt crazy, calling him that.

Once you freshened up, lathering lotion on every exposed area of your body and tying up your hair for better access to the sun, you headed down to meet Ashton at the beach.

The crisp morning breeze made you grateful for Ashton’s long sleeve henley top that you had decided to throw on as a coverup, shielding your new bikini from the hotel lobby employees and saving the view for the one who really wanted to see it.

The scent of his cologne lingering on the shirt was a plus, too.

You made your way down the stone pathway towards the beach, already having an idea where your husband would be. It didn’t take long to spot his overgrown chestnut mullet blowing in the breeze, chatting up the bartenders that were working the early morning shift.

As you near, you notice the wetsuit draped on the back of his bar seat, surely used to surf and dried off by now. You creep up to him slowly, taking in the sight of his sandy, bare back and slightly sunburnt shoulders.

The bartender notices you before Ashton does, so you press your index finger against your lips to tell them to keep it a surprise. Although Ash doesn’t drink, he’d made it his mission to befriend every single employee at this resort; just one of the many quirks of his kindhearted soul.

Without a word, you get close enough to latch your arms around his neck, attacking him with a bear hug. Slightly startled, Ashton’s head whips around knowing it was you, yet just double checking to be sure.

"Ah— there’s my beautiful wife," he murmurs sweetly, before slapping a wet kiss on your arm, "G’mornin’, gorgeous."

"Good morning to you too, handsome."

"Y’know, I don’t think I’ll ever get over being able to call you that,” His eyes peer over at your head resting on his shoulder, and you look back with the same amount of love and adoration.

"Get used to it. But don’t wear it out," you jab.

As your arms are still locked around him, you look down and notice the smoke funneling up between his body and the bar.

"Bright and early, huh? A joint to start the day," you hum to him, as he twists around to pull you between his legs.

"You know what they say about the early bird, sweet pea."

There was comfort in knowing that everyone at this bar knew you and Ashton, already having made accordance with each of them. He knew all of their names, as did you. He also snuck around and told them all of your favorite drinks when you weren’t around; Ashton was making it impossible for you to ever want to leave.

"Got a surprise for you." Ashton grabs the bartender’s attention with a quick, yet polite, whistle. He orders you a breakfast mimosa, which makes you giggle, speaking on the fact that you hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet.

"And what might that be?" You ask, traipsing your finger along his thigh right next to the hemline of his navy blue swim shorts, "Is it another bikini? Because I’ve already got one of those."

"No, it’s much better than a bikini— But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping to see that bikini on you right now." He grabs your hips, pulling you to sit between his legs on the barstool.

You chuckle quietly, satisfied to know him like the back of your hand. "Well, I guess today’s your lucky day."

After a few minutes of back and forth with your bartender friend and a couple of weak sips to your mimosa, Ashton pats your hip as a signal for you to dismount the barstool and follow him.

He’s very quiet in doing this, giving you shoddy answers to your curious questions and leaving no room to the imagination as you walk hand in hand along the beach.

"I’m gonna cover your eyes at some point, but promise me you won’t start screaming for help or anything like that," He jokes and you scoff, squeezing his hand tightly.

"I would never. Plus, what’s a surprise without a bit of kinky blindfolding?"

"Mimosa’s doing its job already I see," he says with a grin, “Maybe I won’t need to cover your eyes— you’ll be seeing stars by the time we get there."

"Are you calling me a lightweight? You’re the one that’s trying to get me drunk at ten in the morning!"

You’re starting to reach unfamiliar territory on the beach now, watching the beachgoers slowly dwindle to only a few straggling joggers and surfers.

"Nobody’s trying to get you drunk, sweet pea. You just gotta learn to let loose... I thought I’d give you the upper hand and start your morning off with a drink. You’re on island time now."

You shrug as if to say, fair enough, before Ash pulls you tightly into his side. He locks his arm around your head, using his palm to cover your eyes and his body to guide you to the right place. You lose your balance at the sudden loss of vision, but Ashton is right there to catch you, letting you fall into his chest with a giggle.

"Shit, no warning? What the fuck kind of morning have you been having?"

You could practically hear his smile without even having to see it, "A great one. And it’s about to get even better."

A few more steps are taken before Ash is pulling you back to stop you from walking any further. You noticed that he had walked you into the sand, rather than the pathway you had been on the entire time.

"Okay, just a few more steps— easy does it…" He’s holding up your temporarily ailed body, walking you through soft tropical sand. There were moments where you’d misstep, sending your feet tripping right out of your sandals and leaving Ashton to come to your rescue.

"I promise I’m not drunk, my God… Don’t know what’s gotten into me today," you try to cover up your wave of embarrassment with a giggle, and Ash laughs along.

"No worries— Take one more big step for me, okay?"

You take one final comically large step into the sand, and stop when you feel his body come to one as well. His large hand over your face was undoubtedly making you sweat, but you didn’t really have the heart to tell him.

"Are we here?"

“Mhm," he coos, "You ready, sweet pea?"

"As ready as I’ll ever be," you smile.

Suddenly, his hand lifts from off of your face. You’re first met with a blinding light, but as your eyes adjust, you start to take in the scenery.

A lush, empty plot of beach with scattered palm trees and bushes. The crystal clear water blended in with the sky, not a single cloud throughout the entire shoreline.

You look around, confused for a moment, wondering why Ashton had brought you to a random empty plot of beach.

"Did you just walk me in circles to show me what I’ve been seeing for the last three days?"

Ashton lets out a snort, his hands finding your hips in front of you before he places a gentle kiss upon your lips.

"You’re funny. Turn around."

With his hands to help spin you, you turn around, faced with something you had been begging for since the moment you touched down in the Caribbean.

A private cabana.

"No. Fucking. Way!" You squeal excitedly, accidentally ripping yourself from his grasp to run up to the three little steps, "And here I am sounding like a fuckin’ dickhead—"

Ashton shrugs, "You learned from the best… Go ahead. Check it out."

He stands cross armed with a smug smile, watching you run laps around the cabana. You take in the dark wooden support beams and blue linen that surrounded them. There was a sheer white curtain in place of a door, and fairy lights strung on the outside. You’d seen them around the beach in the passing days, but you swore this was prettier than any of the ones you’d seen so far.

"Ash, it’s fucking gorgeous!" You gush, standing to the side of it and hugging one of the wooden beams.

"Wait ‘till you see the inside. C’mon," he holds out his hand walking towards you, and you take it gleefully. When you make your way up the steps, Ashton pulls back the curtain and slides them open just enough for the two of you to walk in.

A king sized beach bed sat between two wicker bedside tables. Sun rays shone through the straw roof, leaking light onto the power blue sheets

And on one of the little beside tables, two breakfast plates.

"So, you did have a reason for getting me that mimosa," You chuckle, fluttering down onto the bed while still taking in the interior.

"I had good intentions… Too bad you drank the whole thing before we got here,” says Ashton, plopping down next to you.

"If I’m on island time now, why wait?"

Ashton snakes his arm over your shoulder, the two of you watching the palm trees sway in the late morning winds, and listening to the ocean crash against the shore. You lean your head on his shoulder, taking in a deep breath.

"This is just— beautiful, Ash. Thank you for doing this."

"Anything for you, sweet pea. Making you my wife was only half the battle. You know I’d give you the world if you asked. A beachside cabana is nothin’."

Your heart swells at his kind words, feeling so overflowed with love that you have no choice but to tackle him onto the bed with a kiss.

It’s slow at first, his lips slotting against yours quickly and finding the rhythm you claim. But as your tongues entwine, the kiss deepens. His hands find your waist, pulling you onto his lap and spreading his legs to give you a place to rest your hips.

"Baby," you hum, giggling while Ashton’s lips are occupied by the nape of your neck, "What about breakfast?"

"Breakfast can wait. You're only thing I wanna’ be tasting right now."

Although flustered by his words alone, you pull away to look at him, a soft sigh escaping his lips at the lack of you. You proceed whack him on the chest, trying to keep alive the magic of the beachside cabana without getting too distracted by your hunk of a husband.

Well, at least not just yet.

”Breakfast cannot wait! Don’t let my friskiness ruin the amazing morning you planned. We’ll get back to it soon enough."

His bottom lip is caught between his teeth in a pout as he is about to protest, but you cut him off with a disapproving gaze.

"You had me last night and you still want more?"

"Always want you. This is nothing new."

The way he seamlessly draws you back into a kiss seemed impossible, how suddenly you were pulled right back to where you, your body, and mind were last night.

And the night before. And the night before that.

Your heart begins to race when his teeth sink into your bottom lip, pulling down agonizingly slow and testing every last bit of your decorum. You whine into him, gripping his chest so roughly that little crescent etchings are left in the place of your fingernails.

"Ash—," you whimper, barely pulling enough air from your chest to utter his full name.

"I hear you baby, I hear you…"

Ashton could tell you were getting greedy, from the way your hips ground down into his. How the friction of his bulge held captive in his swim shorts was giving you just the right amount of pressure you needed.

You didn’t care about a good breakfast, or why Ashton was refusing one. Not anymore. You didn’t care about anything.

Except for him.

The kiss picks back up and suddenly, you weren’t even sure how, the henley top that was once clad to your back was now strew across the floor. Ashton’s hands roamed up your sides, grasping at your ribcage as you continued to swivel your hips.

"So fuckin’ perfect—" Ash mumbles, in a dreamlike state that made his gritty voice sound even deeper. Music to your fucking ears. "And, you’re wearing the hell outta’ that bikini."

"Whatever my husband wants, my husband gets," you muse, bottom lip tender from the incessant nipping.

After a few more minutes of tender kisses and tugs at your bikini strings, Ashton's motions had grown more ravenous.

"Well, your husband wants you to take it off," he teases, continuing the soft banter from before and shifting the both of you up towards the headboard.

"I think that could be arranged," you reply, watching the little streaks of sunlight from above create patterns across his bare chest, "Wanna do it for me?"

"You know I fuckin' do."

He couldn't get the words out fast enough before he was pulling the strings and the bikini top was falling between your bodies, exposing your bare chest to his hungry, wandering eyes.

"My god, that never gets old," he gawks, reaching his hands up with no time to waste and taking your nipples between his fingers.

The action alone draws a moan from the back of your throat, and makes you grind down onto his hips hard enough to feel his hard-on practically popping out of his swim trunks. It had been a long and rather busy few days out on the island with Ashton. And you'd be lying if you said that the two of you weren't on a... mission.

Is it really that cliché to try for a baby on your honeymoon?

"Baby," you moan, breathless, smitten, "please. Now. We— we have to—"

Ashtons eyes widen at your subtle command, shoulders tensing at those subdued words and piecing together exactly where your head was at.

"Yeah, yeah... I've gotcha sweet pea."

It was your turn to be the dominant one now, ordering him around with your eyes as he slowly lifted you off of his hips and began to slide out of his swim trunks. You sat and waited patiently, perched on your knees with a wicked smile.

Ashton's excitement at your tries for pregnancy never failed to make you swoon; could've been because you were ovulating, or because you were so infatuated with the idea of starting a family with him. Either way, neither of you were complaining.

"Lay down f'me?"

His words break your spell and suddenly you're following his command. You shift and rest your head against the fluffy down pillows, running your hands along your chest towards your midriff.

Ashton’s blistered palms make headway up your thighs, prying your legs open like he was parting those crystal blue waves you’d been swimming in all week. His eyes feast on your sprawled out figure, examining each and every dip and curve.

"God, you’re beautiful. Could’ stare at you all day, sweet pea." He breaths shakily, his head sort of reeling, like a mental game of ping pong. He wasn’t sure where to start with his pretty girl, and it was so, so obvious.

"Don’t have time for that baby," you purr, watching him slither around you delicately as though you were made of porcelain, "Need you— now."

"You need me now? Since when did you start calling the shots around here?" Ashton chuckles, the shade of his honey green eyes slightly flickering to that of a foggy forest.

Right as you’re about to open your mouth to reply, his grip on your thighs tightens. You help out in pleasure, then quickly clamp your lips shut as he settles himself between your legs.

His chest presses against the sheets and his face is now inches away from your core, pulsing and aching through your swimsuit bottoms and practically screaming for his attention.

"Such a pretty angle. Love seein’ you like this," he drawls, his gaze pointed at where you needed him most.

A gentle whimper gets caught behind your teeth as you attempt to shift beneath him, only making that grip he had on your legs tighten just a bit more.

"Tryin’ t’ fight your way out of this, aren’t you?" he mocks, moving his hands to the inside of your legs and firmly pressing your knees down to the mattress, "You can’t go all shy on me now, sweet pea."

There was something predatory about the way he was acting; stalking like he was on the hunt for just a bit more than the feeling of you wrapped around him. He wanted to savor this moment, this fun little game of cat and mouse.

"Ashton, please," you beg.

Either he was choosing to ignore you or he didn’t hear it at all, but your plea remained empty as his head ducked down to press a kiss below your naval.

"Gonna’ fill you up real’ nice..." he groans into your flesh, teeth nipping at the delicate skin, "Would you like that? Want me to fill you up with my cum, baby?"

You nod sheepishly, resorting to tucking your bottom lip between your teeth as his teasing continues.

"Gotta use those words, beautiful. I know you’ve got a mouth on ya’."

"Yes," you blurt, "I’m— I’m ready. Please, fill me up baby, please."

His eyebrows raise in amusement and the death grip he once had on your knees finally loosens. He uses his arms to stalk towards you, crawling up your body so that the two of you met at eye level.

"Say that again for me?"

As you open your mouth to repeat the words that descended your husband into madness, you feel a broad hand sneak between your legs and push your swimsuit bottoms to the side. His finger slips between your dripping folds, running a line up and stopping to gently toy with your clit. The steadfast eye contact remained.

"Are you paying attention, sweet pea? I said, say it again."

You stutter for a moment, unable to coherently collect the words on your tongue as he continued to tease you. "Baby please— Want you t’ fill me up—"

"Gonna’ make you mine, sweet pea. I promise. And since I did it already then fuck it baby, I’ll do it again."

His tip prods at your entrance while your eyes frantically dart across the various features on his face. You watch his plump lips part slightly, and the notch in his brow grow more prominent as he savors that first stroke.

The two of you sigh in unison, in bliss, at that first initial feeling of him filling you perfectly. He has no choice but to gaze into your eyes, the ones that had been looking at him with equal admiration this entire time.

"Fuck, baby— so fuckin’ tight n’ ready for me, yeah?"

His starting thrusts are slow, each stroke hitting deeper within your lower abdomen and creating pressure throughout your entire body. You hold your breath, savoring that feeling before letting it out with a labored groan.

"F-feels so good, Ashton. Can— can feel you everywhere."

What you were saying hardly made any sense; but that never mattered to Ashton. All he knew was that the feeling of his cock meticulously hitting that sweet spot every time was enough to get you buzzed.

Love drunk, if you will.

"Takin’ my cock so well. Like such a good girl. How fuckin’ perfect you are, baby— and you’re all mine."

The eye contact between you was blazing, the heat radiating off of his cheeks flushing against yours. You could barely keep your eyes open as his hips began to snap faster and faster, his breathing becoming more gritty and labored.

"Ashton, baby, oh my God— please—" you cry out, the wooden bed frame now shaking and whacking against the walls of the cabana with the force of his limitless thrusts.

"Feels good, sweet pea? Gonna fill you up with my fuckin’ cum, baby. Gonna fill you up n’ fuck it into you nice and deep. You’re mine. All fuckin’ mine."

You take your hands and cup his face, watching his pupils bounce as his lips weave into a wicked smile. Sweat slicked his forehead as he looked down on you, eager to please you and so satisfied with the way you’d been falling apart.

"Fuckin— touch yourself. Please, God— touch yourself for me, pretty? Wanna hear more of those sweet sounds you make."

Your jaw drops, as does your hand from his cheek. Your hand then moves to finds your clit in record time, and you begin to rub it in quick circles. The simple action causes an electric shock to run down your spine, only amplifying the pleasure going forward.

"Gonna cum together, yeah?" asks Ashton, who had resorted to tucking his head into the crook of your neck and occasionally biting down on the meat of your collarbone, "Gonna’ cum with my girl— fuck, baby. You feel incredible."

"Mmmh."

You only find enough strength in you to hum as the speed of his thrusts increases. It was hard to take your eyes off of him and surely the feeling was mutual; it had become a competition of who could look at the other with the most love and devotion.

"Fuck, I’m close—" Ashton blurts, his voice weakening, "Ready for me, baby?"

"Yes, yes, yes, fuck yes," you cry out, still pawing circles at your clit as the rhythm you once claimed grows sloppy.

"Want you t’ feel my cum so deep inside you, my girl… Been so fuckin’ good t’me. Always are."

The two of you groan, loudly. It echoes and bounces off of the quaint walls of the cabana as Ashton finally releases inside of you. You could feel his liquid pooling, mixing with the juices of your own arousal and God, did it feel incredible.

A collective sigh is shared not long before Ashton dips down again to place another kiss onto the sweet spot of your neck, "Ashton, baby— oh my God."

"Gonna’ put that baby in you, sweet pea. Can fuckin’ bet on it," he states. A groan mixed with some sort of pathetic whine as he slowly pulls half of his length out of your pussy.

Right as you’re about to let out a sigh of relief, he rams himself back into you.

"Fuck!" you cry, pinching your eyes shut for the first time since this whole ordeal has started. He was awfully cocky about it all but then again, it wouldn’t be Mr. and Mrs. Irwin without a bit of a boast.

"Feel that? That to me feels like a success," Ashton gloats, his eyes mocking your tightly knit brows and scrunched up nose.

A chuckle falls past your lips as you relish in the feeling; you and your husband becoming one soul. You can’t seem to get your attention to stray away from the mousy brown curls that had flopped out of their style and into his eyes. How obscenely intimate it felt to be this close to your husband in all of his glowing, sweaty, post-sex glory.

"That doesn’t mean we can’t try again tomorrow," you tease him, brushing a rogue curl from his eye, "We’re still here for another week and a half."

"If it were up to me, we’d do this every day. But, I don’t wanna wear you out. Husband and wife now, yanno? Gotta make sure you can, uh— keep up."

The two of you chuckle and sigh, basking in the feeling of his cock still buried inside of you and sharing the love of the intimacy.

"Hey, I think I could keep up with your beastly self. You’ve just gotta give me the chance to prove it."

Ashton spares you a warm smile, the same smile that won you over the first time you’d ever met him.

"I love you, baby."

"God, I love you more."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[souperbloom]

Hey love! I just want to say you’re definitely the best writer I’ve seen on here in a long time!!! So good!! Would you be able to write about going down on Ash and it’s like overstimulation but he’s into it and becomes a whimpering mess… I’d like that very much🤭 many thanks and much love!!💞

hi friend! i’m on it. (better late than never!) enjoy some domestic, tooth-rottingly sweet sub!ash ;3

————

tangerine, tangerine. [A.I.]

🍊 boyfriend!Ashton x reader

i can’t think of anything eloquent to say about this one guys

a/n: BACK WITH A VENGEANCE!! who missed me? :*

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, sub!ash, oral (m receiving), semi-public / outdoor sex, edging/overstim, pet names.

WORDCOUNT: 3.8k

⊹ ₊ ⟡ ⋆

“Want another?”

Your sunbathing was interrupted by the hum of your boyfriend’s question, mouth full of fruit. Ashton was sun kissed already after 20 minutes out, holding up a peeled clementine with squinty eyes and his guitar resting in his lap. You shielded your eyes to look at him, admiring the sweat rolling down his forehead and onto his chest.

“Yes, please.”

It was the height of noon, a sunny June day. You and Ashton were the type of couple to take advantage of the high UV whenever you could so, the two of you always made it a point to sit out and soak up that deliciously strong vitamin C, no matter the day of the week. It just so happened to be a weekend where both of you were off from work, and time was of the essence.

Ashton’s lips push to the side as he pops a slice into his mouth, leaning forward off of the outdoor couch to dangle the rest of the fruit in your face.

“Here.”

You couldn’t bear to have the sunlight in your eyes for much longer, so you just reached your hand out blindly and hoped he’d catch your drift. And of course, he obliged.

As Ashton hands you the rest of his clementine, you see a sliver of his face through your hand. His hair was overgrown, after you’d begged him not to cut it and asked him to keep it long for the summer. He had small reflective sunglasses resting at the bridge of his freckled nose that brought out the various shades of green in his eyes. You couldn’t hide the smile on your face when he hovered over you, upside down from the couch.

“Tangerine for you means a kiss for me,” he muses sweetly, hanging over you and briefly creating shade beneath the sun.

“Mmm, greedy. I gave you a kiss last time.”

“So? What if I wanted another?”

You laugh at the little glint of neediness in his expression, pretending to contemplate giving your sweet boy a kiss.

“You drive a hard bargain, baby. C’mere.”

He laughs in delight, finding a way to kiss you upside down in this awkward position, you on the deck, him on the couch. But he managed, as did you.

Since coming back from a long writing trip with the guys, you and Ashton were inseparable. Besides from when you worked a few short shifts at a cafe downtown, he was stuck to your hip like glue. He wouldn’t leave you to do anything alone, not that you minded much. Washing dishes meant his hands wrapped around your waist and singing songs together, and going to sleep meant tangled limbs and morning sex.

You were living the dream, so to speak; and now that it was summer, you were free to spend every waking moment together; like he’d told you you would when he first left.

A few minutes passed by, basking in the sun, occasionally checking beneath your bathing suit to see if there were any visible tan lines. Every time you moved, you would hear the rustling of the couch cushions as Ashton snuck a glance at you from above.

“Am I getting any tanner?” you ask him, soft strumming leaving his guitar.

“Mmm, a little. Haven’t been out here for too long. Can’t say for sure.”

You giggle softly, shielding your eyes to try and look at him through the sun, “Well, I don’t see you working on your tan. Care to explain?”

Ashton strums a quick chord, as a sort of intro for the words he were to speak. Then, his ring-clad hand taps against the instrument and echoes through your ears.

“I’ve got other things I’m thinking about,” he puffs, sarcasm laced through his tone.

“Really?” you sit up fully, “What’s the matter?”

His face lifts into a smile as he sees you turn fully to face him, admiring your sun-touched skin and completely entranced by the shimmer from your tanning lotion.

“Not enough of you.”

He mumbles the words as if they were secret, rosey pink falling across his cheeks as he clears his throat and continues to play his guitar.

“So, come down here. Easy fix. There’s plenty of room on my blanket, baby. Could’ve said somethin’ before.”

His eyes shift from the strings to your face, still mindlessly hammering out an intricate melody and moving his fingers up and down the fretboard. You loved letting him play for you, and watching him even more. He’d taken the time to learn all of your favorite songs and could play them all by memory. Today, his melody was reminiscent of a summer day; it was a song you didn't recognize, but it seemed as though he knew it well.

It also seemed like he was playing it as a distraction; like there was something on his mind that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Why don’t you come up here?” Ashton asks quietly, still playing.

“Could I have another clementine?”

“Tangerine, baby,” he corrects you, stopping his tune and resting his guitar at his side, “It’s called a tangerine.”

“I’ll call them whatever the hell I want.”

Ashton smiles at your quick wit, and watches you with his jaw notched as you crawl your way from your blanket on the deck onto the couch. He sits back, preparing for you to cozy up next to him. But instead, you admire him from a few inches away, perched on your knees.

“Get me another clementine. Please?”

Your eyes go doe and Ashton can’t seem to concentrate on any one aspect of your person, his eyes bouncing frantically across your features and seeming overwhelmed by your presence.

There were tangerine peels strewn across the stained glass side table, adjacent to the couch— reminding you of Ashton’s newfound hobby of gardening.

You knew he’d save them for composting. For he saved every last fruit peel since the start of summer. You’re enamored by the way he’s so delicate with his plants and how sometimes, the tangerine peels and gentle green thumb leave his essence smelling of citrus and flowers.

You were in love.

“I’ve got another one here,” Ashton breaks your little space out, snapping out of his own. He reaches to his side and then hands it to you, but you don’t take it quite yet.

“Peel it for me?”

“Really?” he teases.

“Yes,” you pout, serious as can be, “I don’t wanna get sunscreen all over it.”

With a huff, he does as he’s asked, peeling it in one swift motion and discarding the peel where the others were left. He hands it to you, bare, and looks at you over the top of his sunglasses.

“Happy now?”

“Feed it to me?”

“Okay, now you’re askin’ for it.”

You giggle cheekily, adjusting your posture so that your face is closer to his body. He smacks his teeth before ultimately giving in, as he always seems to do.

“What’s next? Want me to chew it for you?”

“No,” you roll your eyes, “That would take the fun out of eating it.”

“True,” he murmurs, taking off a piece and bringing it up to your mouth.

Now, it was time to have a bit of your own fun. As he brings the cluster of slices to your lips, you take it, and sink your front teeth down into the fruit. Droplets of juice spill out and drip down your chin, all while your eyes are locked in on his flabbergasted face.

“Mmm,” you hum, chewing the full bunch of slices and scrunching your nose at the bittersweet taste, “S’ good.”

You knew it was impolite to speak with your mouth full, but man, was it even more impolite to stare. Ashton’s face warped into a sad, needy, puppy-dog look, utterly smitten by the way you’d just eaten the fruit from his hand and acted like you’d done nothing at all.

“You’re fucking killing me.”

As you lick your lips and clean off some of the leftover citrus, you tilt your head sultrily.

“How so?”

Ashton runs a disgruntled hand through his hair, immediately shrugging off the robe he was wearing to reveal his tight, black gym shorts. You could see his bulge slightly hilling the fabric, otherwise known as the elephant in the room, and you look down at it with desire.

“Ash, you—”

“Nope. Don’t try to play innocent.”

“But—”

“Y/N,” he warns, “You’re evil. And you know it, too.”

Your bottom lip juts out in faux pity, making sure that your eyes sparkle when you gaze down at his distressing situation.

“Baby, I’m sorry. Want me to help you out? Kiss it better?”

“You’re so mean,” he mumbles softly, biting back the tiniest smile.

“I’m offering a helping hand and you’re calling me mean?” You can’t help but laugh at your own double entendre, making a subtle effort to scoot closer to him. “C’mon Ash, let me make it up to you.”

“Too late now. Ruined your chance.”

You whine at your boyfriend's stubbornness, reaching out to run your hand across the top of his thigh. You could feel the juice left on your chin becoming sticky as it dried beneath the boiling sun, but you were far too determined now.

“Come on. Please? Let me take care of my baby—”

“—You’re really annoying, y’know.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Oh, but I do.”

Ashton pretends like he isn’t enjoying the subtle motion of your hand stroking his thigh. The breath he sucked in was telling, for both you and himself. He couldn’t deny how badly he wanted you to act upon whatever you’d promised, and his eyes definitely revealed a lot more than he’d hoped for.

“You sure you don’t want me to,” you break your sentence to crawl closer to him, keeping that hand anchored across his thigh, “help you out?”

Ashton swallows. Hard. He’s trying with all of his might to keep a straight face, but he knew his girl wouldn’t let that happen.

“Wh—” His words are chopped abruptly when you move that wandering hand towards the waistband of his gym shorts, following the smallest bit of sweat that pooled above it. Your face twitches into a wicked smile, instantly emanating a dominant air that seemed unfamiliar for a situation like this.

“Is my baby a little needy this morning? Is he upset that he didn’t get to fuck me before he got up and started his day?”

“Y/N—” That warning tone was back again. His body writhed as you dipped a finger beneath the elastic of his shorts, running your finger teasingly across the fabric.

“Admit it, Ash. This was your plan all along.”

“…No—”

“Don’t lie to me. You and I both know that liars don’t get what they want.”

The playful, domestic energy from before seemed to fizzle out and vanish. It was clear who was holding the strings of Ashton’s desperate little puppet, and you were loving every second of it.

“A kiss for a tangerine, hm? Some fuckin’ deal. Just wanted an excuse to taste me…”

You continued on taunting him and Ashton couldn’t get enough. His face flashed from panic, to anger, then frustration, and ultimately accepting defeat as you tugged the strings of his gym shorts out of their neat little bow.

“Baby.” The nickname dripped off of his tongue like sap.

“Yes?”

He hesitates for a moment, adjusting his legs and spreading them comfortably. You could see the subtle change in his complexion as his gym shorts rode up his thighs and showed off his partial olive-toned tan. The sight had you drooling, but you kept yourself still.

“…Take care of me?”

You were stunned at the switch in his demeanor, his voice was subtle and soft which was a stark contrast from how robust it normally was. It was clear he needed this as badly as you wanted to give it to him. The tent in his gym shorts only continued to grow more tense as you maneuvered your hands around the elastic waistband.

“Quit teasin’ me,” he mutters, frazzled, almost embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you laugh back, finally grabbing the waistband for good, “Seeing you desperate like this is a rarity. Let me have my moment.”

You eventually get to tugging down his shorts, only for his cock to spring up the moment it’s freed from the confines of the netting. You stare at his length in awe, and he had already begun a cadence of groaning and huffing.

“Gonna stay still for me?” You bat your eyelashes as you duck your head down.

“Gonna’ try my damn best.”

Slowly, you ease his swollen tip into your mouth, already reminded of the girth that will follow. He hisses on contact, hand immediately flying to tangle into your hair and brush it away from your face.

Ashton always had an affinity for admiring you whilst you went down on him. And pleasuring him was sometimes more rewarding when you noticed how his lips parted, or the subtle concentrated notch in his forehead. You made sure to keep your eyes on him, despite the awkward angle, and steadily tuck the rest of his length into your cheek.

“Jesus Christ.” The first expletive of many to tumble from his plush lips as he feels you hollow out your cheeks to take him fully.

Since your mouth was occupied, you hummed, noting that you heard his sweet sounds and implying that you wanted more.

“Take it all, yeah— fuck yeah, baby—”

His sultry words rang through your ears like church bells, the bouts of praise creating waves in your lower half that you would’ve liked to ignore if not for Ashton’s wandering hand down your bare back.

You start to bob your head, defaulted to a slow rhythm that you knew drove him wild. That hand of his lands on your bikini string, toying with it as to prevent from touching himself.

“Love it when you suck my cock, baby. Takin’ me so easy,” Ashton bumbles, his sentence ended with a jagged breath brought on by your tongue flicking at his leaky tip.

It was hard not to smile, knowing how much Ashton was enjoying this and how he hadn't seemed to notice that the two of you were out in the backyard where any neighbor could walk out and see this unfolding. But you knew that regardless of who saw what, Ashton wouldn’t let this end just yet.

And neither would you.

You continue your rhythm, making sure to wet his length fully. It was sloppy, a bit loud, and over the top— but again, that was just the way he liked it. There was a method to this madness. After all, you were the one that perfected it.

“Keep goin’, just like that,” he bellows, briefly snapping you out of that slow rhythm. You feel compelled to pop your head up, replacing your mouth with your hand and dragging your thumb across his sensitive tip.

“Feels good, hm?”

“Incredible.”

His auburn curls sifted in the warm summer breeze and perfectly framed the obscene faces he was making. You could tell that it was hard for him to concentrate on the task at hand; with the way his eyelids twitched with each stroke up and down, nose pinching each time your palm neared his tip. You bit down on your lip, trapping sounds of your own, and let him bask in the sunshine.

“Baby, m’close, but—” Ashton is interrupted by your lips reconnecting with his cock, “Don’t speed up. Just— stay the same. S’ perfect.”

You hum again, in acknowledgment, knowing the vibrato from your voice would heighten his senses. The hand of his that was once lingering across your bikini string had dropped down onto the couch. He was white knuckling that poor quilted throw pillow, his grasp getting stronger each time you took his length fully.

“Mmm, fuck,” he groans, “so close.”

Knowing what you know about Ashton and his ‘stamina’, you decide to up the ante. You take your hand and cradle his balls, which in turn causes one of his moans to get stuck behind his teeth.

“Ooh, shit— baby, hang on,” he pleas, the desperation in his voice only making you want to taunt him further.

You’re humming, once again, letting it be known that you’re amused by his overtures yet still doing exactly what he had asked for.

But then, within the sounds of chirping birds and buzzing honeybees, your honeybee makes a sound that you didn’t think was possible coming from a man of such stature.

A whimper.

You freeze. So does he.

“What was that?”

Ashton’s cheeks immediately flush of color, even he was unsure of what could’ve brought upon that angelic sound.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

A look of challenge falls across your face. Testing your boyfriend's limits had always seemed intriguing to you, yet the thought never crossed your mind.

“Was that— a whimper I just heard?”

He looks at you with distaste, masking what could be deemed as embarrassment.

“No.”

“Remember what I said about liars, honeybee?”

He rolls his eyes, a protest of his newfound submissiveness, “Fine. You win. Does that make you feel good about yourself, princess?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you reply, still teasing the head of his cock with your thumb and enjoying him squirming beneath your hold, “Keep that up and you might just earn yourself some extra sugar tonight.”

As Ashton opens his mouth to fight back, you replace that hand once again with your lips and suddenly, his words are replaced by more of those subdued, whiny pleas. They were like music to your fucking ears. This may have just become your new favorite song.

No way he’d be able to learn that on the guitar.

“God— still so close,” he admits as if you hadn’t just made fun of him, shifting his hips and trying with all of his might and muscle not to buck them, “Feels too good t’ cum.”

You’re still enjoying watching him melt beneath you, as if the sunlight from above was temperate enough to thaw out human flesh. His hands were only getting greedier as time passed, reaching out to touch anything in his path. Your shoulder, the trace of your spine, all the way down to the top of your swimsuit bottoms.

When you take him fully, the tip of his cock grazing the back of your throat makes him cry out. You could feel the warmth and sweat from the adrenaline coating the tops of his thighs each time your face neared the base of his cock.

“C’mon baby, please. Please— more.”

You weren’t even sure if he knew what he was saying anymore, but his disgruntled demands met your one-track mind with content. You hollowed out your cheeks and bobbed your head up and down, up and down. Ashton couldn't get enough.

“Yes, yes. Just like that. Tryin’ t’ hold it— Too much—”

Too much.

Was it really too much?

You were starting to think that Ashton may have discovered a brand new thing for the both of you to enjoy.

As Ashton fought his urges tooth and nail, the fun was only beginning. You could hear his sharp breathing growing heavier and heavier from above you, and feel his stomach muscles tensing with each trip down his cock.

“Oh my god, you feel incredible, baby—” he whines, although it seemed like a challenge to get the words out in one breath.

“Mmmmm?” you hum, as if it were the intelligible words of a question: keep going?

Ashton’s hand, without any restraint, travels to your hair. He holds it into a makeshift ponytail, pulling it away from your face to watch the beauty of the mess unfold right in front of him. You could tell he was overwhelmed and could practically hear his heart thumping right out of his ribcage. He stutters, once again, face collecting to a pinch.

“Gonna’ cum— real’ soon, baby. Keep goin’, please… Please?”

There was something inside of you just itching to pop your head up and finish him off with your hand. You wanted to watch his face contort in pleasure and see his collarbones glisten in sweat as he finished for you.

So, you did just that.

When you lifted your head, you didn’t expect to see Ashton’s eyes already locked in on yours. The action caught the both of you by surprise, in all of it’s messy, hurried glory.

“Kiss me.”

The demand was soft at first, so you echoed.

“Kiss you?”

“Fuck, yes— fuckin’ kiss me.”

Without a second thought, you leaned into him. Continuing that fast paced rhythm of stroking with your hand, your lips connected and a spark ignited. His hands flew to your cheeks, cupping them roughly but sweetly enough to make you forget the point of your mission.

He sighs into you, facial hair scraping against your cheek with each pass of your tongues.

“Cum for me, Ash. I know— I know you want to.”

Your words bounce across his lips and back into yours, not long before his entire body jolts. His hands are quick to find your waist as his cum spurts out and coats your hand.

You never quite minded the mess, anyway. You knew it’d get cleaned up eventually.

“Fuck— fuckin’— shit.”

Like he had just learned to swear for the first time, Ashton grumbles. You pull away to see the sweat from before creating an intoxicating glow onto his cheekbones, his face lifting up into an exasperated smile.

“Holy shit,” he buzzes, “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

“Felt good, didn’t it?” You lift your coated hand from between your bodies, looking down at it with a giggle.

“Uh huh— oh, shit. Let me help you uh, clean that up.”

Ashton reaches over to grab that once discarded robe, having no worries about what he may or may not have to worry about once he gets to folding the laundry.

“Thanks baby,” you hum, taking your free hand to massage his shaky thigh, “I’d say you owe me but, I think I enjoyed this more than you did.”

He scoffs with the shake of his beachy curls, diligently cleaning up the mess he made.

“This relationship is 100/100. Tit for tat. You know I’ll make it up to you one way or another.”

After Ashton sufficiently cleaned up the most he could, the two of you sat in each other’s company for just a little while longer. His arm wrapped around you tightly, occasionally drawing tiny patterns across your shoulder while the two of you watched the sun disappear behind a set of plush clouds.

“Y’know,” you mumble, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, “I think a shower is in order.”

“I like the way you think,” he replies, before abruptly standing up. He reaches his hand out to you, tossing his robe over his shoulder and pushing his sunglasses onto the top of his head. “I’ll wash your back, if you’ve got mine?”

⊹ ₊ ⟡ ⋆

[souperbloom]

deffo need some subtle sub!luke in my life - maybe y/n and the guys are all talking about sex lives & one of them slips out that luke once mentioned wanting y/n to be in control because it was usually the other way round, so later on they give it a go!

nothing too extreme, just y/n making decisions, praising luke & being on top etc

you don’t even want to know the sound that came out if my mouth when i got this notification.

(if u requested this reveal yourself.) (im joking.) (maybe.)

enjoy <3

————————

secrets, secrets. [L.H.]

🖤 boyfriend!luke

after what seems to be a secret revealed, you and your boyfriend Luke try something new in the bedroom.

a/n: FIRST LUKE SMUT WOOOO. i wrote most of this while listening to classical music which i just think is so silly and on brand for me. i also had a last minute epiphany and changed the title whoops.

CONTENT WARNINGS: references to weed/smoking, angst if you squint, sub!luke (duh), pet names, praise kink, oral (m!receiving), orgasm denial, protected sex.

WORDCOUNT: 5.7k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You hadn’t checked the clock for what seemed to be hours.

The guys and yourself had been wrapped up in a heated discussion sitting in a circle in Calum’s living room, all stoned on your own accord.

The conversation had been flowing since the moment you all sat in your respective places, turning from lighthearted banter into something much more vulgar than you were used to. You all hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks, which meant there was a lot of ‘catching up’ to be had.

But you weren’t quite sure how the simple conversation of ‘how have you been?’ morphed into something along the lines of: ‘have you ever had a dirty dream about me?��

"You’re lying! I can see it in your eyes!" An eager Michael shouts across the room at his dear friend, and your boyfriend, Luke. You watch the entire ordeal unfold perched atop Luke’s restless thigh.

He tries to hide a measly smile, as Michael has caught his bluff.

"Okay, fine… It was one time. Nothin’ to fuckin’ write home about."

"How does that even happen?" Calum, baffled, rubs his hand on his chin.

"It means he thinks about ya’ before he goes t’sleep," says Ashton confidently, motioning towards Luke with a cheeky grin.

"No! That’s not— no."

"Luke, c’mon. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sure we’ve all had some pretty fucked up dreams about each other." Michael tries his hand at consoling your boyfriend, whose cheeks were now glowing red.

"I’m not embarrassed. You just— you forced it out of me. A man’s allowed to have secrets, y’know."

Secrets.

It always came back to telling secrets.

You’d like to think that you had a pretty open and honest relationship with your boyfriend, as well as his best friends.

But there were still some things about them that you didn’t know.

And you were afraid you were about to find them out.

"Speakin’ of secrets…" Ashton begins, adjusting his posture to rest his elbows on his knees, "…I’ve got one."

Bingo.

"Go ahead. This is a safe space," you say teasingly, trying not to acknowledge the fact that you had been so high for the majority of this conversation that you had completely forgotten to speak.

"Ashton’s got a seeecreeeet." Calum teases Ashton in a singsongy tone, but Ashton’s face was reading more serious than anything. He clears his throat before speaking his mind.

"Call me crazy, but takin’ on the submissive role in bed has gotta be one of the greatest things on Earth. And if ya’ haven’t tried it, then you’re not livin’ right."

You quirk your brow, and take a look at the rest of the room. Each of the guys’ faces were contorted into a different stage of grief.

Michael was amused, clearly. His eyes were wide and glassy like he had just witnessed one of the Seven Wonders. Calum’s jaw was practically touching the floor, trying to bite back a smile that was so obviously hard to hide.

And then, there was Luke.

He wasn’t making a face— his expression was unreadable. The only thing you saw was his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He swallowed hard, and you noticed that.

"Dude… what? I did not expect that from you…" Michael was still in awe of his friend, as he cupped his cheek with his hand.

"Don’t make assumptions, Mikey. You only live once."

As much as you wanted to say you were shocked, you honestly weren’t. You didn’t know a whole lot about Ashton’s sex life, but this didn’t surprise you. He’s the kind of guy to try anything once.

"Well? Don’t be a prude… Tell us what happened."

"Y/N—" Luke blurts, seemingly attempting to stop this conversation from unfolding.

"What? Am I wrong for being curious?"

"No, no— I agree with Y/N," says Michael, "Since you wanna rave about your endeavors as a submissive princess… Tell us all about it."

Michael’s sly comment earns a snort from Luke, who had been trying to remain steely faced since the moment he had called him out for having sexual fantasies about him. You smile to yourself, eyes darting between Ashton and your boyfriend as their stare down commences.

"What’s so funny over there?" Ashton quips.

Your boyfriend’s eyes shoot down to his lap. "Nothin’."

"Ash, get on with it." Michael was fed up, and ready to hear all about what Ashton was so persistent about.

You can’t help but stifle a giggle as Ashton lets out a sigh. He was taking this a lot more seriously than you thought he would.

"I’m not sure what came over me— but there was this one time. I guess I was feeling particularly lazy er’ somethin’, but I asked her to take over for the night. I won’t get into the nitty gritty but let’s just say; it changed my fuckin’ life."

"I am way too high to be talking about this right now." Calum says, his eyes wide as he is still processing everything.

Ashton continues, "Somethin’ about the feeling of your fate lying in your lover’s hands is just so… exhilarating. You never know what’s gonna happen next— you learn to expect the unexpected… It’s fuckin’ great, man."

Upon Ashton's admission, your seat in Luke's lap shifts slightly. He adjusts you, pulling you closer into his torso and resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Still can't picture it, but... I believe ya'," says Michael with a nod of approval. You laugh, feeling your boyfriend's fingertips drumming against your stomach.

"You guys ever tried it? Don't mean to pry but, as Y/N said, this is a safe space."

The room goes pin-drop quiet. Nobody wanted to speak up; not you, not Luke, not anybody else. It seemed as though this conversation had died out quicker than it came to be.

"Oh, come on. You guys are the freakiest fucks I know. Seriously? None of you?" Ashton presses the group for answers, his eyes landing on you. But you just shrug.

"I'm always on the bottom, Ash. You're preaching to the choir."

"Oh trust me, we know."

"Cal—" Your boyfriend huffs, cutting off his friend and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Confused, your eyes search around the room for any sign of an answer. You seemed to be out of the loop, which was unlike you in these kinds of situations.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" You can’t help but get a little defensive, now zoning in on the feeling of your boyfriend’s fingernails anxiously biting into your waist.

"Nothing! He means nothing..." Luke tries to defend, his voice a bit pitchy.

You bite back a smile. “Secrets, secrets are no fun…"

"Unless they’re shared with everyone, fuck, I know! But you don’t have to—"

Calum butts in, "Mate, relax. I’m just messing around."

"No, no— don’t give me that bullshit. What were you trying to say Cal?"

You weren’t sure why, but feeling left out of some sort of inside joke or secret was making you angry. Your temper was mellowed from smoking, yet this whole back and forth was getting to you a little more than you’d like to admit.

Luke lets out a sigh from behind you, dropping his chin on your shoulder in defeat. He didn’t feel like arguing anymore, with the rest of the room dead quiet as they wait for Calum to speak.

Calum on the other hand was holding back a high smile. A look of ‘I know something you don’t know’ was plastered proudly across his cheeks. He rubs his hands together, glancing at Ashton and Michael before he opens his mouth.

"I know you pride yourself on being a pillow princess Y/N, but… Luke wants to see you in charge."

Immediately, your face flushes pink. You didn’t know what you were expecting Calum to say, but it sure as hell wasn’t that.

It was almost as if everyone in the room was trying not to burst into laughter, Ashton and Michael slapping each other’s legs to get the other to stop snickering.

You swallow the newly formed lump in your throat, taking a second to look each of your friends in the eye.

"Well, this is news to me—"

"You fuckin’ suck, Cal." Luke blurts, embarrassment and anger laced through his tone.

As you sit cross legged, still perched on Luke’s thigh, you feel a tap at your lower back. This was your boyfriend’s cue; an unspoken means of telling you 'let’s get the fuck out of here.'

"I’m sorry," Calum laughs, "I didn’t mean t’ hit a nerve with that one."

"Luke, wait—" pleads Michael, who had been rather quiet throughout this whole ordeal.

"I think we’re gonna head out."

Soon enough, you’re rising to your feet, and your boyfriend is quick to follow. He grabs your bag from off of the floor, scooting you closer into the awkward energy of the circle. The rest of the guys just look at you in pity, but you were far too busy in your own head to notice their stares.

Luke wanted you to be in charge?

"Can’t force him to stay if he doesn’t want to," Ashton shrugs, clasping his hands together between his knees, "I guess we’ll see you two tomorrow?"

You purse your lips to reply to Ashton, watching your boyfriend feverishly pack up your belongings and shift you towards the nearest exit. But Luke is quicker than you, cutting right to the chase.

“Yeah, sure. Somethin’ like that."

The entire car ride back to Luke’s apartment was silent.

You were still hung up on how awkward those last few minutes had played out; but a part of you was just dying to know more about Luke’s little secret.

Pushing boundaries was something that you hadn’t yet considered when it came to you and your boyfriend. Your relationship was fairly new; with the both of you still testing the waters and occasionally stepping out of your comfort zones.

Luke was excellent at reading you. He paid very close attention to detail, which was one of the things that had you falling so hard for him in the first place.

But there was a piece of you that felt guilty for prying this all out of him, the way his entire demeanor seemed to drop when Calum spilled his beans. He was embarrassed, from what you could tell. And you weren’t quite sure what to do.

"Luke?" You pop your head out of the bathroom door, your face wash in hand, looking into your master bedroom at Luke splayed across the mattress. He’s still fully dressed, laying flat on his back with his shoes hanging off of the side.

You, however, took it upon yourself to get ready for bed. You took off your makeup, brushed your teeth, and changed into a little plaid pajama-short set to try and get your mind off of the awkward energy still floating in the air.

"Luke…" He hadn’t replied the first time you called out his name, so you tried your luck again. This time, he just sighed, before turning his head to face you.

His sandy blonde curls were haphazardly strewn across the made comforter. His body restless, as he drummed his hands along his abdomen and waited for you to reply.

"Yes?"

"You okay?"

"Mhmm."

Your shoulders drop in defeat, your eyes still lingering on his lanky frame. He lets out a deep breath before looking at the ceiling again, gnawing on his bottom lip mindlessly.

"I’m sorry," you say, "I didn’t mean to embarrass you."

"You didn’t."

His short replies were making your stomach churn. It was unlike the both of you to be so cautious with each other, walking on eggshells in hopes that the other would just let up and speak their mind. You didn’t want to make it worse, either— it seemed like this affected him, and the last thing you needed was for it to be your fault.

You turn back to face the bathroom counter, continuing your nightly skincare. But from behind you, you hear shuffling. The sole of a shoe hitting the floor, then another. The sound of a jacket unzipping, and pooling to the floor as well.

You could see Luke’s slouched posture in the mirror through the doorframe, watching him slowly rid himself of his clothes and leaving him in nothing but his grey t-shirt and pink heart boxers. The ones you gifted him for Valentine’s day.

The water was warm as you started to wash your face, warm enough to let yourself relax for a moment. It dripped down your forehead, into your eyes, momentarily shielding you from your surroundings as you bent over the sink.

In your daze, you turn the faucet off, your eyes screwed shut and vision starry. But as you blindly reach around the counter for a towel, you feel someone hand it to you.

"Here," the familiar voice drawls from behind you, before you feel a broad hand slither around your waist.

You let out a whimper from the back of your throat, unable to say "thank you" now, as you grab the towel from Luke’s hand realize his hips are digging into your backside.

When you dry your face and regain your vision, you stand upright. Luke’s torso is warm, and inviting, his blistered palm making headway beneath your shirt to drag across your torso. In the mirror, you see his face contort into a mellow smile, his curls pushed back away from his eyes.

"Hi," You whisper into the mirror, water dripping off of your eyelashes and down your cheek.

"Hi, pretty."

"Are you mad at me?" You hated asking that question.

"Of course not, why would I be mad at you?" Luke replies, pulling you into his cotton t-shirt.

"You seemed like you were a few minutes ago." The feeling of his fingertips was getting to be distracting.

"No, no. It was just— something I’d been meaning to tell you but… I just never got around to it."

"Oh."

His other hand has made it to your waist. "Are you mad at me?"

"Never."

"Good to know."

For a moment, the two of you stare at your reflections in the mirror. Luke’s eyes rake down your body, his hands still wandering along the delicate skin of your tummy beneath your shirt. You sigh into him, leaning backwards to rest your head on the crook of his neck.

"Wanna try something new tonight?" He asks, his voice huskier than before and mumbling into the top of your head.

"Mmm, like what?" You were unable to hide your melodic hums as his hands move closer beneath your breasts.

You already knew what Luke was going to ask of you, the excitement bubbling in the pit of your stomach as his eyes wandered, pretending to think.

To be honest with yourself, you had already thought a lot about what’d it’d be like if you two switched places for a change. But you were always too nervous to bring it up, especially in the heat of the moment.

"Want you t’ be in charge tonight, pretty. Do whatever you want t’me. Think you’d be interested?"

"Yes," you breathe without even a second thought, entranced by his fingertips as they creep towards the waistband of your shorts, "I’d love to."

"Sounds good t’me."

Not a second passes before Luke is spinning you around to face him. He dips down, and plants a gentle kiss on your lips, leaving you with a fuzzy head and a fluttering stomach.

When you pull away from him you notice the twinkle in his ocean blue eyes that hadn’t been there before. It was a look of anticipation. Pure excitement. You were about to try something new with the person you loved most in this world, and he was about as thrilled as you were.

You could just tell.

"How can I be good for you, pretty? Wanna be your good boy tonight."

His words made your heart skip a beat, but you figured it’d be best to just play it cool.

"Wellll—" You press your index finger to his chest, "Maybe start by getting on the bed?"

"Are you gonna come with me?" He asks sweetly, still holding you in his hands.

"Of course, baby… But I need you to just sit tight and wait for me, okay?"

He nods quickly, biting back a smile between his teeth before he’s shuffling out of the bathroom towards the bed. You linger in the doorframe for a moment, watching in complete awe as Luke crawls to the top of the mattress and sits with his back resting against the headboard.

Doing exactly what you had asked him to.

You start in slow strides towards him, swaying your hips with each step in hopes to kill some time.

You wanted to figure out a game plan. Since you’d never done this before, you weren’t sure where to start; and as much as it wouldn’t be shameful to ask Luke for advice, you wanted to impress him.

"Okay, done. Now what?" The anticipation in his voice made you want to just explode on impact. He was just the cutest fucking thing.

"Hmmm," you hum, crossing your arms as your eyes scan his body, "I’m gonna need that shirt off."

"Yes ma’am."

He then crosses his arms in front of his torso, pulling the hemline of his shirt over his head. He tosses it to the side, revealing his bare chest sprinkled in sandy blonde chest hairs.

As you watch him move, you gnaw on your bottom lip, scanning down his practically naked body and thinking of all of the things you could do. All of the things you could do to make this right for him. To make this worth wild.

You glance down at your plaid pajama shirt, clad and held together by buttons that gap between your breasts.

And then, you get an idea.

"You ready for me baby?" You ask your boyfriend, whose legs had been crossing and uncrossing impetuously as he watches you near closer to the bed.

"Mhm."

"Gonna play a game with you, m’kay?"

"M’kay." He mocks your gentle tone.

Before you could explain the rules of this new, made-up game of yours, you start to move. Dipping one knee down into the mattress, then the other. You crawl to him, straddling his lap and settling down atop of his obvious hard-on.

He was turned on just by the thought of you.

"It’s very easy," you start to say, reaching for the first button of your blouse, "and there’s only one rule."

Luke’s hands hover around you awkwardly, unsure of where to rest them, unsure if he was even allowed to touch you at all.

"What is it?" He asks, swallowing and adjusting himself beneath you.

"Tell me I’m pretty."

His eyes widen. He had finally noticed your hand lingering and toying with the button on your top.

"You’re pretty, baby. The prettiest."

And with that, the first button comes undone. You move your hands down to the second.

"Tell me I’m pretty."

His tongue juts out to wet his bottom lip, his hands now stagnant at his sides and twitching by your calves.

"You’re so pretty. Prettiest girl in the world."

Second button, undone.

"Tell me I’m pretty, baby. Tell me again."

As you reach for the third button, you make a point to grind your hips down, swiveling them in a way that he’d feel it. His face contorts in bliss, petal pink lips parting slightly.

"You’re so fuckin’ pretty… Prettiest I’ve— ever seen."

Third button, undone.

"Tell me more, baby. Tell me again."

You grind your hips down again, and a soft whimper escapes the back of his throat. You could feel his hands fidgeting down by your legs, reaching out to touch something that wasn’t even there.

"So fuckin’ beautiful… My pretty girl— ah—" He's cut short with another dig of your hips. The paper thin material of your pajama shorts leaving absolutely no room for the imagination. You could practically feel his cock twitching beneath your core, but you weren’t ready to give in just yet.

With his last words of affirmation, you undo the last two buttons on your own accord. The breeze from the air conditioning makes you shiver, instantly perking up your nipples.

Luke noticed that, too. He always does.

"So, so pretty…" He utters with one last labored breath, as if it were the last he’d ever take, upon seeing your chest.

"You did so good for me, didn’t you baby?"

Luke hums quietly, clearly feeling some sort of release due with the pressure of your body on top of him. You notice his hands trembling still, down at his sides and oblivious to the thought of touching you.

"You can touch me, y’know. Been’ such a good boy for me so far."

The eye contact between you was like trance; it was gentle, and warm. Still wavering with uncertainty, yet eager to continue. Luke’s hands eventually make it to your waist, something he had been dying to do since the moment you straddled his hips.

You could tell he was still hesitant to let his fingers roam as they usually would, and that was definitely getting to your head.

You swivel your hips one last time without a single word, dipping down to kiss him. Your hands are quick to cup his face, lips interlocking eagerly for the first time since this morning.

It’s not long before your tongues begin exploring, tangling together in the sweetness of your kiss.

You’re still grinding your hips. He’s still in a trance.

Luke’s hands had moved to grip your ass, pushing it down while simultaneously bucking his hips up into your core. This action of his makes you disconnect from him for a moment, a disapproving look in your eye.

"Ah ah ah," you tut at him, his cheeks now squished between your palms. He quirks his brow.

"What?"

"Not so fast, pretty boy. You said I could do anything, right?"

He chuckles, eyes flicking down to your lips, "I did say that, didn’t I? You're right, baby. Tell me whatcha' need from me... I'm all yours."

You suck in a deep breath, trying to ignore the intrusive thoughts that keep poking at your head and telling you to just let him have his way with you. You wanted to remain stern, whether he took you seriously, or not.

"How about this…"

You let go of his cheeks to shrug your pajama shirt off of your shoulders, tossing it onto the floor next to his tee. His pupils shake, eyeing down your breasts.

"…You don’t get to cum ‘till I say so."

"Oh, fuck— you're too good t'me..." His voice is soft and melodic, already so willing to give up the power he usually claims. "Yes. Yes..."

Your palms lay flat on his broad chest, feeling it rise and fall with every breath he took.

He was anxious; anxious in the way that one more subtle touch to his flesh would send his heart thumping right through his ribcage.

You couldn't contain your excitement anymore; just looking at him was already creating a slickness in your panties.

But Luke could've stared at you for hours.

"Are you sure, Lu?" You ask once your delicate boy once more, tracing little hearts with your pointer fingers across his pecs. He nods eagerly, eyes going doe.

"Yes, yes, yes. A million times yes. Have your way with me, please."

With a tug at your bottom lip, you take his words as your cue. You're quick to take out a condom from Luke's bedside dresser, and even quicker to shift your ass down to rest on his thighs.

As you move, his stare lingers. He nods at you slowly, to remind you of his approval. How desperately he wanted you to have your way with him.

His cock twitching and practically popping through the button of his boxers was already telling you everything you needed to know.

To try and read his eager pleas, you begin to palm him delicately through the pink heart fabric, heavenly sounds spilling past his lips and floating to your ears like a siren's melody.

He was grunting, whining; almost as if he were in pain.

"Easy now, baby," you coo gently, as a shiver runs down Luke's body, "Still my good boy, right?"

"Mmmmph."

"Good, good. Just like that, pretty baby." You squeeze your hand around his length, and his jaw falls completely agape.

You weren't planning on teasing him for much longer. It almost felt cruel to do so.

So, instead of waiting any more, you release him from the button of his boxers.

His tip was already leaky with precum; angry and red, that angelic face of his melting the second you wrap your manicured fingers around his shaft.

Tipping down to take him into your mouth, you hollow out your cheeks, tongue laying flat against him as you start to bob your head.

Sucking him off had always been one of your favorite things to do. In your head, it gave you a purpose— and you always loved the praise that would come with it.

But with the power dynamic now in your favor, you were already enjoying it all the more.

"Fuck me, pretty... So fuckin' warm..." Luke groans through gritted teeth, taking his hands to comb through your hair. You hum at him, sending a vibration down your tongue and directly through his body. He jolts, as if he’d been struck by lightning, while your hands begin to claw at his hipbone.

The walls of Luke's bedroom felt like they were closing in on you, each heaving breath that he was taking was making you dizzy. Your nails leave little crescent etchings deep into his flesh, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat each time you duck down.

"Fuck... fuck fuck fuck–" He grunts, he whines, he continues to writhe beneath you, completely at your disposal. You were eating up every single sound he made, every little spasm of his hands or jerk at his hips.

Picking up on the signs, you could tell he was close. He didn't even have to say it.

"Y/N... I–I'm..." He can barely even finish his thought before he's grabbing your hair in a handful. You always loved it when he was a little rough with you, and this time was no different.

With a tug at your roots, you hum around him again. His body comes lurching forward, almost as if to stop himself from fucking your throat.

"Baby– M'close..." He finally utters, which brings you to toss your head up, releasing him from your mouth with a pop.

"Shhh, it's okay," you whisper, watching his cock fall thump against his stomach and twitch here and there, "You’ve been so good for me so far."

"I have?" He asks the question sweetly, genuinely. With a little twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, of course you have, my pretty baby…" you say, running the back of your hand down his belly, "Gonna keep it up for me, right?"

"Yes."

"Such a good boy."

Luke tosses his head back, his bottom lip held captive by his teeth, and lets out a whine the moment you start to get off of him. The fact that he was whining at the loss of your touch was enough to send you over the edge right then and there, but you wanted to keep your promise.

You hastily discard your pajama shorts, tossing them into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Luke whimpers again upon seeing you naked— you didn’t bother to wear your panties tonight.

"You are so beautiful, Y/N… My pretty little flower—" Luke sighs, in awe of you, despite the lingering sexual tension in the air. He always made it a point to compliment you, no matter the scenario.

"Thank you, Lu," You can’t help but giggle and blush, making your way back to his lap to straddle him.

Again, his hands find your waist. He sucks in a deep breath, eyes wired shut.

After only doing this for a little while, you were already comfortable talking to Luke in a more dominant way. The trick was to not think about it too hard. Just let the words roll right off of your tongue.

Simple enough, right?

"Tell me what you want me to do to you, baby." Your words are soft like down pillows yet loud enough to get a rise out of him. He shifts beneath you, still closing his eyes.

"Fuck me… please? I’m achin’ for you."

You take his pleas as your sign to start, wet enough from merely the obscene sounds spilling from his lips. The condom you had grabbed was still at your side so, you rip the package open with your teeth.

When you start to roll the condom down over his length, he lets out a hiss. Could have been the temperature; or maybe he was just too desperate to be ashamed of his sounds.

"Shit—" He whines, clutching onto your hips as your hand pumps his cock a few times.

"Easy, baby," you purr, adjusting yourself upwards to line him up with your dripping slit, "You ready for me?"

"Mhm— yes… yes please, angel. Please— fuck me."

His throaty cries only furthered the butterflies floating around in the pit of your stomach. You could barely contain yourself as you hover over him, biting your lip as you sink down onto his cock.

The both of you let out a collective groan; the feeling of him filling you up completely just seemed too perfect.

You lower your body so that you completely engulf him, taking his length fully and making your breath hitch in your throat.

"Feels good, pretty baby?" You ask, still buzzing.

"Mmph—" He whines, anchoring his hands to your hips as you start to swivel.

"Need you to use your words, Lu… Tell me."

You’re gentle with him, at first. Treating him delicately, like picking off the petals off a daisy. He seemed so weak beneath you and something about it was making your head spin. Your heart was bursting at the seams.

"Yes, Y/N— Feels s’fuckin’ good—" Luke whimpers, digging his fingernails into you, and holding onto you with his entire soul fleshing through his fingertips.

His cock twitches inside of you, as you continue your rhythm of grinding hips. It’s easy for you to tell when to pick up speed, testing his limits by his face alone.

"Such a good boy, baby.. You’re doing so fuckin’ well."

You start to notice the familiar furrow of his brow, that concentrated little notch in his forehead.

He wanted to close his eyes, but he just couldn’t seem to look away

"Y/N, I—"

He says your name again. It’s syrupy, like honey dripping off of his tongue. You place your palm flat on his tummy, tossing your hair out of your eyes to match his gaze.

"Takin’ my pussy so well, aren’t you?" You ask him, but don’t expect an answer. His face of concentration was telling you all you needed to know. How hard he was working to please your demand.

"Mmm… Th-think’ m’doin’ a good job…" He nods slowly, and you smile.

"Oh baby, you are… Keep goin’, m’kay?"

He smiles with a hum, through heavy, bated breaths.

"M’kay."

The sweaty flurry of blonde curls and baby blue eyes was slowly starting to unravel. The rise and fall of his chest was rapidly picking up speed, before he started to snap his hips up into you.

A slapping sound engulfs the walls of his bedroom, but you have no reason to complain. His cock was stretching you out, hitting that sweet spot with every stroke.

"Fuck, Lu—" You can’t help but revert to your old ways; yet not completely giving in, and letting him hold the reins. He was still beneath you, practically melting as your bodies entwine.

And that, was an incredible feeling.

"Y/N—" he whines, broken by panting, "m’close."

You nod sloppily, your tits bouncing at the speed of your swiveling hips.

"Hold it, baby— still my good boy, right?"

"Yes, yes… I am, Y/N. M’ a fuckin— a fuckin’ mess for you…"

A catty smile sprawls across your cheeks, feeling your orgasm budding lowly in the pit of your stomach, and satisfied at the way you had him completely wrapped around your finger.

"Mhm, yes you are. Such a pretty mess..."

Your orgasm was on the brink now, ready to burst and run through your body. Sloppy sounds filled the air; panting, whining, groaning. It was all meshing in your ears like the tune of a fucking song.

You felt your face tinge pink upon seeing your boyfriend’s concentrated expression, feeling a tad bit sorry for being so demanding.

So, you finally decide to let go.

"Cum with me, baby—" You gasp.

"Wha—"

"Let it go, Lu. Been s— so good for me, fuck!"

And with that, stars and galaxies are fogging your vision. You let out a cry as you finish, your walls clenching tightly around Luke’s cock as he does the same. He gives one last quick snap of his hips before you’re collapsing completely, going limp on his chest with him still inside of you.

You could hear his heart thumping through his chest; your sweaty bodies practically letting sparks fly. His hand moves to rub your back, as you both collect your devices.

"Was I good enough, baby?" He asks sweetly, that soft voice from before coming into play and making your stomach flutter.

"More than enough."

He giggles; seeming a bit shy about the semantics of it all, before planting a kiss at the crown of your head.

You can see his eyelashes fanning against the apples of his cheeks, glistening in the light of your bedroom as he grins up to the ceiling.

"I’m glad," he beams, "And you were right, by the way."

You pop your head up from his chest to look him in the eye. "About what?"

"Should’ve told ya’ about this a lot sooner."

With a shake of your head, you tut at him teasingly, just happy to feel closer to him than you ever have before.

"Guess it’s not a secret anymore."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[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…"

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[souperbloom]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR3Bwg74/ yesssss sir🫡

i know where your head’s at anon. trust me.

the tiktok of ash talking crazy during the valentine genius interview can be found here.

————

cherry pie. [A.I.]

🍒 boyfriend!ash

valentine’s day smut. tee hee.

a/n: happy belated valentine’s day soup nation <3 sorry for my inactivity. school has been whooping my ass but i promise ill be back soon ! :3

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, oral (f!receiving), pet names, overstim.

WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

It wouldn’t take long for Ashton to figure out what your Valentine’s Day surprise held in store.

Your body, at his disposal, splayed out on his plush king-sized mattress; dressed head to toe in red lace and satin. You were like a gift-wrapped present, tied up with a little red bow.

It was everything you’d been dreaming about since the moment you saw that little red set in the window of your local lingerie shop. The perfect surprise for the most perfect boy.

"Ash, baby?" you call into the distance as you hear the shower turn off from the master bathroom.

After dinner, you told Ashton you’d rather head home and unwind, as opposed to going out and getting an after-dessert drink. And of course, despite putting up a bit of a fuss about it, your boyfriend agreed.

You told him to hop in the shower and get ready for bed: setting the expectation that there’d be no sugar tonight, and all you really wanted to do was cuddle in bed and watch a movie.

The disappointment laced through his features when you told him what you wanted from him was quite obvious. But since he had fussed enough about not going to the bar, he figured a little less bitching would do him some good on this special day.

It was hard enough for you to bite back your smile while lying in his face, already knowing what would be waiting for him after his shower.

"Yeah?" He finally replies from the bathroom, the echo of his voice bouncing off of the tiles and into your ears.

"You comin’ in soon?" you ask, hints of innocence in your question as you adjust your position to fit the steamy energy you were trying to exude.

"Yeah, yeah— gimme a minute. I’ll be out before you know it, sugar.”

You couldn’t see it, but you could practically hear the smile that sprawled across his face within his lewd reply. He knew how much you adored that nickname.

Maybe he had a better clue than you thought.

A few more minutes pass you by, subtly quiet music streaming from the TV filling you with anticipation. You couldn’t want to see the look on his face when he walked out to you like this. It took you long enough to find a set of lingerie as perfect as this one; only to have to speedily change into it the moment you heard the faucet turn on.

"Baby," you whine, faux impatience woven into your tone, "M’gettin’ tired."

You hear Ashton scoff playfully, slightly seeing his bare silhouette through the mirror as he takes a towel to his head to dry his hair off.

"I’m coming, I’m coming—" he coos, the towel still covering his head as he begins to whistle.

You dip your head back into the pillows for a moment, letting out a satisfied sigh. Seeing his body in the mirror was already getting you hot and bothered, not to mention the button-down shirt and leopard print jacket combo he had decided on wearing to dinner tonight. The thought of him drove you wild; and you were more than happy to submit to that.

Soon enough, Ashton emerges from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and tucked into itself, accentuating his physique. Along with the other towel that was still on his head, causing him to lead himself back into the bedroom blindly.

"So I was thinking we could watch—"

His thought stops in its’ tracks the moment he slides the towel off of his head.

"—Holy shit."

When his eyes meet yours, they double in size instantly. There’s a longing in his gaze, as if seeing you whipped him through the space-time continuum and barely brought him back down to Earth.

"Oh, baby," he hums, his eyes continuing their journey down your body and taking you in, in all of your crimson, lace glory, "You’re too good t’me."

"Happy Valentine’s Day, Ash," you purr, running a seductive hand up your thigh and letting your index finger collect the fabric of your satin slip.

"My God. What am I to do with you, sugar? Wrapped up all pretty n’ nice for me… Fuck, you’re wearing the hell outta’ that thing, baby…"

His lovesick babbling continues as he nears the bed, dipping his knee down into the mattress. Your eyes still lingered on him, bottom lip caught between your teeth as the two of you have an erotic stare down.

"Do whatever you want t’me. This is your gift, after all." Your coy smile grows wider as he slowly starts to crawl towards you.

"Whatever I want, you say?" He repeats your question as if the answer wasn’t obvious, "I’m not sure if you’re ready for that."

His body now hovers over yours, savoring his last few glances before he tears you out of this outfit and has his way with you. You knew he’d get you out of it faster than you’d gotten into it.

"I’m ready for anything. I’ve waited all fuckin’ week for this." You giggle up into his sparkly fern eyes as he’s now fully on top of you, eyeing you like you were the last cookie in the cookie jar.

"All week? Jesus, baby… If I knew you were gonna’ get dolled up like this I’d have thrown a Valentine’s Day in January." His playful remark sends a chill down your spine as he takes the back of his hand and caresses your cheek.

"I’d get dolled up every night for you, you know this. Just thought I’d save it for a special occasion."

His hand begins a trail down your collarbone towards your chest, "I had a feeling you were up to somethin’. You had that look in your eye."

You chuckle, trying to ignore the moan threatening to spill from your lips, "What look?"

"The look you have when you’re up to no good. You’re a pretty shit liar," he teases.

"Well, I’d say I pulled this surprise off successfully, shit liar or not— That’s all I was really hoping for."

"Successful is an understatement, sugar. You look sweet enough to eat…" He hooks his finger onto the fabric between your breasts, tugging it down gently. "…Sweet like cherry pie."

Not another moment passes before Ashton is dipping down to wrangle you into a passionate kiss. His hands roam with fervor, feeling the contours of your body with his broad palms and taking breaks to gently squeeze the parts he loves most.

His tongue entwines with yours seamlessly, as he makes a sly effort to grind his hips down between your inviting thighs. You sigh into his mouth, lacing your arms around the back of his neck.

"Fuck me, baby, you’re obscene," he sighs, breaking the kiss momentarily to leave a trail of kisses down your neck towards the valley of your breasts, "Think I might have to have a slice of my cherry pie."

You nod as if to say, ‘duh, Ash', wordlessly consenting to his request. He always aimed to please you, despite sometimes being sent to bed unrewarded. But he was such a good sport about it; you sometimes believed that he preferred giving as opposed to receiving.

Generous. There’s the word for it.

"This outfit is gorgeous," he sighs dreamily between kisses trailing down your stomach, "I feel bad takin’ it off so soon."

You shake your head, an electric current shooting up your body as his kisses start to near towards the apex of your thigh. "Don’t feel bad, it’s served its’ purpose."

"Was it’s ‘purpose’ to drive me insane? Because— it’s doin’ a great job at that."

You shrug playfully, enjoying the fiery path of destruction that this little get-up was causing in your sweet boyfriend’s head. He could barely contain his excitement as he parted your legs, gazing at you hungrily with a smirk. His slender fingers then hook onto waistband of your panties, pulling them down and off of you at a tantalizingly slow speed.

"Gonna give you my hand. Squeeze when it’s too much for you, m’kay?"

You nod down at his mellow smile, and grab his extended hand as he positions himself.

"Mhm."

With a sigh, he caresses your inner thigh gently, taking in the sight of you. It was hard enough to be patient after he had promised something he was sure would drive you crazy; you knew him well, but not well enough.

You were sure he had some tricks up his sleeve.

"’Gonna make you feel so good…"

His gravelly voice trails off as he lowers his mouth to your core, lips hovering inches above where you needed him most. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t growing a bit impatient.

"Yeah?" you taunt, rubbing your thumb in circles over the back of his hand, "You’re all bark, no bite."

He chuckles lowly, still leaving patterns across the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, "And you’re gonna regret having such a smart mouth, sugar."

Without warning, he dips his head down and licks a stripe up your slit, gathering the wetness on his tongue with a sly smile. You groan on impact, naturally, watching his sandy curls scatter across his forehead with his movements.

You almost regretted what you said when he started to prod at your entrance with his tongue, letting his nose do all the work on your clit for him. It felt like a sensory overload; he had always shown his love for pleasuring you but, never to this magnitude.

"Ash, oh fuck—" your words come out choppy, staccato breaths breaking apart each syllable as your free hand flies to grip his hair. He hums into you in reply, the vibration from his baritone voice causing a ripple through his tongue to rip right through your lower half.

You start to writhe above him as his tongue works in tandem with the tip of his nose, all while peering up at you over your silky lace babydoll dress.

"Fuck, baby. F-feels so good," you groan, attempting to keep your eyes from lulling closed. The eye contact between you was far too mesmerizing to pull away from.

Upon hearing your sultry compliment, Ashton begins to move faster. He switches the focus to your sensitive bud, flicking his tongue quickly and causing another wave of pleasure to shoot through your limbs.

His free hand then moves to push up the fabric of your slip, resting his palm flat on your stomach while his mouth moves in circles. Your body lurches forward when he hits a particularly sweet spot, the pleasure almost becoming too much to bear.

You remembered briefly what he had told you about his hand… ‘squeeze when it becomes too much.’

So, you did.

It was too much.

Your heart rate was doubling and it was growing difficult for you to keep the stars away from the backs of your eyelids. You knew you were close to your limit.

But when your grip tightened around his hand—

He didn’t stop.

In fact, he began to move even faster. His eyes shimmered as he peered at you above your hips, watching your jaw fall slack as you’ve now lost any ability to keep your composure.

"Fuck, oh my god. Please—" you beg, mushing into a whining mess, "Ashton, please."

His ears perk up at your exasperated plea, quickly ripping his hand from your grasp and using it to replace his tongue. He pops his head up, upper lip and chin drenched in your juices as he studies you with a pout.

"Can ya’ give me a few more minutes, sugar? Tastes so fuckin’ good…"

As his skilled fingers move in place of his tongue, he makes sure not one moment of your time is unoccupied. He uses his thumb on your clit to draw moans out of the back of your throat; index finger dipping in and out of your entrance.

"B—but… It’s too… too much…" you whimper, interrupted by your own moans betraying you, "M’ so close…"

"Please? I’ll go slow…" Ashton pleads, starting a gentle trail of kisses onto the inside of your thigh, "Not gonna be too much for you, sugar… ‘Said I could do whatever I wanted… Just need a few more minutes t’ taste you, my love."

You open your mouth to reply, but the sound of your voice is replaced by a pitchy moan as he dips that index finger fully inside of you. He curls it upwards and starts that familiar ‘come hither’ motion, creating pressure in your tummy and bringing you to cry.

"O—okay…" you mumble meekly, "F—few more minutes."

Ashton lets out a quiet chuckle at your words; finding the audacity to smile before he’s diving back in to indulge in you. You no longer had control over your shaky limbs, nor any control over the loud expletives tumbling from your lips. The sounds of your wetness boom through your head, as that familiar feeling begins to creep up on you.

"Ashton, baby— gonna’ cum… Gonna’ cum really soon…" You try your hand at warning him; but he was one track minded. He kept his pace, never faltering, using his fingers and tongue in cohesion with one another to send you hurdling towards the finish line.

As he savors his last few tastes of you, he groans in delight. The sounds of his smug satisfaction are just what you need to fully push you to the brink of your orgasm.

"Fuck, Ash! Oh, shit—"

Your pleas were merely encouragement for Ashton. His rhythm continues to pick up speed, climbing and climbing until galaxies were fogging your vision and your legs were tensing up.

"Ashton!"

The final shout of his name had you doubling over in ecstasy, yet his tongue continued on, as did his fingers— you were relishing in the feeling of your orgasm as the butterflies once encaged in your abdomen had set loose and began fluttering throughout your body. He rode you through your high with a final few kitten-licks to your clit, for good measure.

The tension in your shoulders and thighs had finally cracked once his movements came to a slow. Your breathing, heavy and labored, started to readjust to the oxygen levels back down on Earth.

"Ashton… oh— oh my god," you sigh, watching as your boyfriend tenderly starts to massage your jittery legs after he had practically sent you into orbit.

"I know, right?" He smirks confidently at your airy reply, pleased with his ability to ruin you so effortlessly.

You can’t help but giggle, listening to the thunderous beating of your own heart through your chest. He moves to comfort you instantly, kissing your thigh gently before resting his head in its’ place, "Dinner and dessert for Valentine’s Day? What a lucky guy I am…"

"The luckiest, I think," you hum, petting his head with a smile, "We should celebrate holidays like this more often."

Ashton chuckles, reaching up to interlock your fingers before planting a kiss on your knuckles.

"Got time for another round, sugar? President’s Day is right around the corner."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[souperbloom]

Hiiii! I had an idea for a fic where reader is part of the band and is dating ashton. After their performance since their adrenaline is so high they get high and have high sex 🤭

fucking obsessed with this one. had a blast writing it too. soup nation hath spoken, so sativa you shall receive (sorry it took so long)

enjoy <3

————————

sativa. [A.I.]

🍃 boyfriend!ash x bandmate!reader

after the curtains close, you and Ashton let out that post-show adrenaline the best way you both know how.

a/n: i’m picturing black hair ash for this, but feel free to picture any era you’d like!

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, weed/smoking, strong language, pet names, oral/faceriding(f!receiving), switch!ash :3

WORDCOUNT: 6.1k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Tonight was a night like no other. You and your band had just bid adieu to yet another incredible crowd, the lot of you filled with so much energy that it left you feeling as though you were about to burst.

"…Fuck yes, dude!"

"Who has my bag?!"

"Your shoe’s untied, mate! Slow down!"

You and your bandmates barreled through the parking lot of The Kia Forum, buzzed out completely on vibes. You had been running so fast, and for so long, that you had completely forgotten what you were running for.

It wasn’t much longer than a few minutes before you remembered, and reached, your destination— the tour bus, which was parked all the way at the back entrance of the arena. Each of you stopped accordingly, catching your breath.

"Why did we even start running?" Your bassist, Calum, has always had a gripe with running.

"Who fuckin’ cares?! That shit was awesome!" Michael blows out a breath, resting his hands on his knees.

"I like running… but not in these shoes… Dear God—" Luke had found himself on the ground, letting out a long, and loud groan.

"I could go again. Fuck it! Who wants to race me?" Your boyfriend’s voice pipes up from behind you. You whip your head around to see him jogging in place with a smile.

You let out a giggle, still breathless from the strides you had taken to keep up with his pace on your initial run into the parking lot.

"Nobody’s racing anybody, Ash," Calum huffs, stretching his legs, "We’ve gotta pack up our shit on time before they leave us here like last time."

Ashton blows a raspberry, "You’re no fun."

"I’ll race you," you shrug to him, still completely clouded with adrenaline. The running barely made a dent in the energy that was coursing through your veins.

He wraps a broad arm around your shoulder, hugging you into his side.

"You say that now, baby— but the last time I beat you in a race, you didn’t talk to me for like, a week."

"Hey," you scoff, "I had good reason! You teased me about it every time I opened my fuckin’ mouth!"

"She’s right, Ash," Luke finally pipes up from his resting place on the concrete, "you bullied the shit out of her."

"You clearly just don’t understand my comedic repertoire."

Michael and Calum laugh, each patting Ashton on the back as they walk by to step onto the tour bus. You glance over at Ash, who had been staring at Luke on the ground.

"You alright, Lu?" You ask, slithering out of your boyfriend’s grasp.

"Yeah, yeah— I’m fine. Just— give me a second." He holds his hand up in the air, almost surrendering to the cold, hard ground.

"C’mon, mate. Let’s get you on this bus. It seems like Y/N is the only one matching my energy tonight."

Ashton takes Luke’s hand, pulling him up by his torso. You watch in awe at how effortlessly your boyfriend hoists him up, the butterflies in your stomach still floating around just as they did when you first got together with him.

"Okay, I’m good now." Luke blows out a breath, adjusting his heels in his boots.

Ashton, Luke, and yourself all make your way back onto the tour bus, each with your own respective bags and belongings. By the time you had stepped on, Michael and Calum had already found their seats on one of the couches. They were browsing their phones, occasionally showing each other something and giggling at the screen.

"Got room for one more?" Luke asks, moving Calum’s spread out legs to make a seat for himself.

"There’s a whole ‘nother couch, mate," Calum huffs, so entranced by his phone that he hadn’t even looked up.

You and Ashton had made your way to the other couch in question. Your eyes find Luke’s, his find Ashton, as you each toss each other a knowing glance.

"Nah, I think I’m alright sitting here. Why, you don’t want my company?"

As the other three bicker, you and your boyfriend find a comfortable position on the couch. Your head is resting on his shoulder, his arm extended over the top of the couch and resting along the back of it. He pulls out his phone to check the time.

"It’s half past eleven and I’m fuckin’ wired." Ashton mumbles. You feel his body vibrate with the words he speaks as you rest your head onto him.

"Me too," you admit, your leg starting a cadence of bobbing up and down, "I’d usually be down for the count by now."

"Y’think it’s the adrenaline rush? I’m not sure why but— I feel like I could scale a goddamn mountain right now."

You shrug, trying to close your eyes as the bus starts to move, "Could be. But— it’s hard to believe we’re the only ones feeling it."

Ashton’s hand was gently lingering around the nape of your neck. He then started to toy with your hair, resting his head on top of yours.

Your leg had continued to bounce, still feeling as if you were about to pop off into the sky like a fucking bottle rocket.

It was only about a 20 minute drive from the venue back to the hotel, but the anticipation of getting there was absolutely killing you. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to stand sitting quietly, especially now that Ashton’s hand had traveled to your shoulder.

He twists his head, planting a kiss on your temple before whispering in your ear.

"Why’s your leg doing that?"

"Dunno’. Just energized, I guess."

Your boyfriend nods in understanding. "Isn’t being on this bus right now just the worst?"

"Don’t remind me," you say, as Ashton is removing his arm from the back of the couch.

He puts his arm back at his side, yet his hand finds your leg like a magnet. His fingertips creep towards your inner thigh, your leg still bouncing impatiently.

"Really wish we were back at the hotel…" He then dips down slowly to be level with your ear.

"…’Wanna put all this energy to good use, no?"

His words send a shock wave down your spine, similar to the ones that had been coursing through you all night long. You knew exactly where his head was at, but whether or not you wanted to acknowledge it while the rest of the band was three feet away from you was a battle you did not want to fight right now.

"Ash, knock it off," you whisper sternly, pressing your hand down on his in order to keep it from inching any closer to its’ destination.

"They’re not even paying attention. Look at ‘em." He gestures towards the boys on the couch, all either buried in their phones, or passed the fuck out.

"Still— If they saw anything I’d fucking kill myself."

Ashton’s tongue juts out to wet his bottom lip, now looking at you as if you were a dessert waiting to be devoured. You roll your eyes, trying your best to seem unbothered by his gaze.

"Fine."

The rest of the trip was uneventful. Ashton would occasionally squeeze your thigh, or his knee would knock against yours when Calum let out a particularly loud snore. You had finally made it back to your hotel, and were filing out one by one from the tour bus

"It’s amazing how you fast you can fall asleep," You hear Michael poke fun at Cal, who had been yawning and stretching as if he had gotten a full night’s sleep.

"The art of the power nap, my friend."

"Even after all these years, you still snore like an animal," you giggle, reminiscing on the many nights you’d spent on the road together.

As Calum opens his mouth to retaliate, Luke is stepping out of the tour bus and joining the conversation.

"Everyone has their shit, right?" he asks, hoisting his bag over his shoulder.

"Yup."

"Mhmm."

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now get out of my sight. All of you. Don’t wanna see your faces ‘till tomorrow morning a nine." Luke teases, wagging his finger at the rest of you.

You each gave hugs and said your goodnights, all while Ashton was glued to your hip. His body radiated off an aura that you couldn’t quite put your finger on— you didn’t know if it was just the energy, or the fact that the tension between you two was thick enough to cut with a pair of scissors.

But you knew full and well that you were feeling it too.

"That was the longest bus ride of my fuckin’ life," Ashton huffs, fumbling in his pants pocket for the keycard to your suite.

"I know— I feel like I should be tired," you shrug, "I probably won’t be able to sleep for a while though."

As Ashton pushes open the door to your shared hotel room, he tosses you a smirk over his shoulder. You blush, adjusting your bag strap and trying not to make too much of a face.

"We should stay up all night."

"Do you really think that’s the best idea?" Now, his eyes were wide and glassy. Your boyfriend’s energy had skyrocketed at an alarmingly fast rate.

"No, not at all. But— I think it would be fun, don’t you?"

The thought of staying up all night made you tired in itself, but you couldn’t push past the adrenaline still rolling through your veins.

You think for a moment, mulling over the pros and cons.

It’s already after midnight. Call time for tomorrow was at 9am. What’s 8 and a half more hours gonna change?

"It would be fun… But what would we do for that long?" You drop your bags on the carpet with a sigh.

"I could think of a thing or two," says Ashton, wiggling his eyebrows. He rifles through his bag on the floor for a moment, while you flop down on the king sized mattress.

"Like what? ‘Cause I’m not about to just sit here and stare at you."

"I don’t see a problem with looking at your gorgeous face for eight hours straight," Ashton chuckles, "but that wouldn’t be realistic…"

He digs down into one of the pockets of his backpack, pulling out a small rolling tray, a pack of papers, and a jar of bud.

"…So how about I roll up and we see where it takes us?"

You can’t help but bite your lip at the thought of Ashton rolling up for you. He always gave you the princess treatment when it came to smoking, and tonight was no different.

"I’m down for that." You hum, shifting yourself up on the bed and resting your arms on the pillows.

"Perfect. It’s settled then."

You watch with patient eyes as your boyfriend stands with his belongings. A rolling tray, papers, and a grinder in one hand, the bud, and a pack of filters in the other. His gaze drops down your body, landing on your torso.

Without a word, he finds his way onto the bed on his knees, a sly smile sprawling across his cheeks as he moves around you slowly.

"Whatcha’ doin’, baby?" You ask innocently.

"Nothin’."

His timid reply made your stomach flip, not long before he’s reaching his leg over your body to straddle you. He rests himself gently onto your thighs, putting his rolling supplies down at your side.

"Gonna roll up now, mkay?" He finds your approval with his eyes, as he slowly starts to dip his body down to lay flat onto you. Confused, you lift your brow, but you’re immediately shut up when he starts tugging at the hemline of your shirt.

"Ash, what—"

"Shhhh," he whispers, before pulling up the spandex material of your stage shirt and leaving a gentle kiss on your belly.

Your heart flutters at his simple gesture, just watching in awe as he starts to lay out his rolling supplies on your stomach. You were still very confused, yet you didn’t have the heart to question him.

Now with a rolling tray, papers, and a grinder all splayed across your body, Ashton starts his routine. He takes out a nug from the jar, popping it into the grinder and using his elbows to keep himself hovered over your body.

"What am I, a table?" You giggle, the movement of your stomach causing the rolling tray and other things to move around.

"Your giggling is fuckin’ up my work station, baby. Try to hold still f’me."

You clamp your giggly mouth shut with a straight face, still oddly amused by this strange scenario. Ashton had never used you as a rolling tray before, so pardon you for seeming weird about it.

Once he was done grinding up the weed, he grabbed a filter, all while balancing himself over your body. He made his next moves tediously, laying out a paper flat onto his tray and sprinkling the plant onto it.

Your first instinct was to hold your breath, but something about his face of concentration was making you want to bust out laughing. He’d occasionally glance up at you, those green, honeypot eyes tossing you warning stares.

"Almost done—" He says, now folding up the corners of the paper and actually starting to roll it.

What you loved most about watching Ashton roll was the pure concentration that overcame him, every single time. His eyes would go narrow, his tongue poking out slightly between his lips. It took everything inside of you not to sit up and start showering his face in kisses, but you held back.

For the sake of the joint.

"She’s a beauty," you say, watching Ashton tongue the rolling paper and leaving you with nothing but intrusive, sinful thoughts.

"Mhmmm," Ashton hums in return, before giving the paper one more lick. He twists up the end, finally getting to admire his handiwork.

"Your belly makes one hell of a rolling tray, baby— might have to try rolling up your tits next."

"Yeah, right. Good luck with that one."

You both laugh as Ashton starts to remove his supplies off of you, haphazardly tossing them to the side.

He then pops the joint into the corner of his mouth, and uses his fists to crawl up to you. He stops at eye level, fully straddling you with the jay between his lips and a devilish gleam in his eye.

"What are you looking at?" You ask, already knowing the answer.

"You." He mumbles through the side of his mouth, the joint stuck to his bottom lip,

"Yeah, no shit," you laugh, "But why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like there’s something on your mind."

He cocks his head, "Well, there is this one thing…"

Feeling daring, you pluck the joint from between his lips, taking it between your fingers.

"If ya’ tell me what it is, I’ll let you take the first hit."

"Psh," he scoffs, "like I wasn’t gonna do that anyway."

A bout of confidence rolls down your body, absolutely entranced by your boyfriend’s floppy black curls. He looked absolutely ravishing. The gaze in his eye flicking from innocent to lust fueled, just with a blink.

And if there’s one thing you always knew, it was exactly what he wanted.

"You fuckin’ wish… Tell me what’s on your mind, pretty boy."

Your nickname for him made him close his eyes, taking in a deep breath as you ran the back of your hand along his cheekbone.

The joint was still dangling between your fingertips, but you were debating putting it down after the way he had sighed.

"You always know how to get me, don’t you?" His voice was quiet, and sultry.

"Contrary to popular belief, Ash, I know a lot about you. Enough to know what you’re thinking about."

"You’re such a fuckin’ tease," he grumbles.

"Hey, you started it. Just trying to match that energy from before, y’know?"

"Trust me, it’s still here, darlin’. It never left."

Your mouth pulls to the side, watching his eyes flick between your lips and your chest.

"Oh, really?… You catch your bottom lip with your teeth.

"…Prove it."

In a flash, Ashton is flipping you over, bringing your hips to straddle his waist with your calves digging deeply into the hotel mattress. The action practically knocks the wind out of you, all with the joint still dangling between your fingertips. But you used Ashton’s broad chest as leverage for your palms, so you didn’t fall.

"I’ve got the time to prove it… and a lighter."

Ashton reaches over to the bedside table, practically knocking everything off of it as he reaches for his black Zippo. It was like a piece of him— never leaving his sight for more than a few minutes.

And on the rare occasion in which it wasn’t on him, it could be found right in your back pocket.

"Well then, if you insist— light me up, baby."

You place the joint between your lips, making a sly effort to dig your hips downward and grind into his crotch. A shaky hand approaches you, the heart shaped ink on his wrist reaching out to you with a burning flame.

He toasts the end of the joint as you inhale, the crackling, earthy feeling funneling down your throat while you take the first pull. Those golden fern eyes surveyed your every move; from the inhale, to the exhale.

"Y’look so pretty smokin’ my weed."

"Do I?" You hum, now feeling his hands as they palm at your thighs.

"Mhm."

Your cheeks flush pink, going in for another hit of the joint as Ashton just watches you; like he was in some sort of trance.

But as the smoke travelled down into your lungs and left you feeling a bit fuzzy, something inside of you perks up. A yearning to be in control; to tell Ashton whatever perfectly fucked up words were left in that adrenaline-doused brain of yours.

"You look even prettier under me."

His eyes flutter closed, and you’re left with a cheeky, prideful smile.

You loved getting under Ashton’s skin, more than anything. Calling him pretty, pretty boy; it was like a drug to you. You craved the rush that came with the change in his demeanor. It was something he tried to deny enjoying—

Yet he always came back for more.

Without another word, you pass the joint to him, placing it between his plump lips and allowing him to take his first pull. He sighs to himself, still clawing at your pants like he would strike gold by digging his fingers into them.

"Fuck— that’s great."

"Isn’t it? She's a beauty."

"Mhmm… tastes nice."

The residual smoke clouds the air above you, as you continue to pass the joint back and forth between your lips and his.

It wasn’t long before you started feeling high; and the same went for Ashton. You shared glances through heavy, bloodshot eyes, completely entranced by one another.

"Told you this was a good way to pass time," says Ashton, whose hands had become a bit more fidgety down at your sides.

The fog in your mind was clouding your senses. It had come to a point where you felt like your voice wasn’t working— you’d open your mouth, but nothing would come out. Just a puff of air, or a soft little whimper as Ashton’s hands danced around your calves.

"Baby?" He asks you, shifting his hips beneath you with a twinkle in his eye, "You okay?"

You wanted to reply, but you were too mellowed out to even utter a word. Shooting him a soft smile, you toss your head back, and run your hands down your chest.

"I’ll take that as a yes."

Ashton was an avid smoker. You, not so much. But on the off chance he was willing to roll and smoke you up, it was very rarely that you’d say no. Ash loved to smoke with you, you loved to smoke with Ash.

It was a match made in heaven.

"Whatdaya’ think the guys are doing right now?" Ashton always blurts whatever the fuck is on his mind. High, or not.

"Mmmh, I’m not sure… Probably sleeping." It took you a minute to gain the moisture back in your throat in order to reply.

"Fuckin’ losers. They don’t know what they’re missing. I wonder if any of ‘em are staying up late…"

You can’t help but let a dreamy sigh fall past your lips, before leaning over to put out the joint over your shared bedside ashtray.

"I don’t know much about them, but I know about me n’ you."

While Ashton’s hands are dead-bolted to your waist, yours roam his torso, toying with the black button-down he had slipped on after leaving stage. You fumble with the buttons, mess with the collar, all with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth.

"Can I help you?" Ashton sighs, rather sarcastically, starting his own trail of greedy fingertips.

"You know what I want."

"I'm not sure I do, my girl. Need you to be more specific..."

"Don't play dumb, pretty boy," your hands find the first button of his shirt, "I want you."

It isn't long before all of Ashton's buttons are undone and your lips are leaving a trail of sloppy kisses, making headway towards the buckle of his jeans. He whines beneath you, hands wandering along the motions of you as you shift down his body.

"Fuck me, you're an angel," he sighs dreamily, but you just smile between kisses, already feeling the wetness pooling in your lower half.

"Am I?"

"Mhmm, heaven told me so."

With his words, you shoot up to his eye level, giving him a good stare down before slamming your lips onto his. He melts into the kiss, as do you, still writhing beneath you for any inch of release.

His tongue explores your mouth, searching for something sweeter than the feeling of his own stoned mind. Your hands caress his face; his cheeks feeling much softer than usual.

"Oh, Ashton—" You whine, not long before his teeth are sinking viciously into your bottom lip.

A hiss falls past your teeth, his blistered palms gripping your exposed sides for dear life and pushing you down onto his growing erection.

His direction of kisses starts to lead towards your jaw— then your neck, then your chest.

"Want me that badly, hmm?" You coo to him, somewhat condescendingly. All he can do is hum beneath you, absolutely mesmerized by the taste of your skin.

"You know I fuckin' do."

As he works his way back up your throat, he leaves hickies in his trails. Also known as, a story to tell the band tomorrow.

"Hey, Dracula— knock it off. We've got a show tomorrow." You giggle, as Ashton pops his head up with wide eyes. He still looks entranced by you. Could’ve been the weed, but you swore you could see little cartoon hearts bursting within his irises.

"You’re right, you’re right—"

Ashton begins to toy with the hemline of your skirt, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he practically undresses you with his eyes.

"Want this off?" You ask, motioning towards the article of clothing in question.

He thinks for a moment, rolling his mouth inward on itself and seemingly picturing the whole ordeal before it’s even began.

"Nuh uh. Keep it on— I like it."

"Can’t really argue with that," You shrug casually, as if being high and now horny wasn’t already causing the both of you enough grief.

Ashton clears his throat, grabbing your attention away from his wandering fingertips.

"Hey, wanna try somethin’?" he mumbles, his tone a bit whiny. Needy.

"Hm?"

"Want you to ride my face."

Your eyes widen, face flushing of color as your mindless hip rocking comes to a slow. You can barely compute what he had just asked of you, let alone find enough saliva in your throat to reply.

"Wh—"

"You don’t have to— If ya don’t wanna. Just thought it’d be fun, y’know, since we’re lookin’ for ways to pass time."

You chuckle lowly, regaining your confidence as you watch his eyes shimmer just from looking at you.

"Baby, I don’t think that’d pass much time," you sigh, stomach lurching at merely the thought of it.

A smile spreads across Ashton’s cheeks, "Why not? Don’t want me to tease you with my tongue ‘till you can’t take it anymore? I’d say I could get a good thirty minutes out of that."

"That— that’s unfair!" You screech, the butterflies in your stomach dancing along and making you shiver.

"Don’t think so. Especially since you hogged the joint. Smoked all my fuckin’ weed. I’d say we’re equal."

"Kiss my ass, Irwin." you bite back.

"God, I’d love to."

You and Ash have tried a lot of things as a couple, but this opened a completely new door. At this rate, as late as it was, you were willing to do just about anything to get your hands on your pretty boy.

"Y’know what? Fine… Let’s fuckin’ do it."

You finally give him the reply he’d been waiting for. His eyes practically shoot out of his head when he hears it.

"Really?"

"Mhmm."

Ashton tosses his head back into the plush pillows, running his hands up your waist and finding himself beneath your spandex shirt, "Gonna' make a meal outta you, baby. Promise it'll be worth it."

With his words, you're dipping back down to kiss him, feeling his hips eagerly bucking up into yours and revealing just how hard he was beneath his jeans.

"Need you," he whispers into your lips, "please. Soon?"

His incoherent babbling was already telling you everything you needed to know, his breathing picking up with the slight feeling of release he was getting by feeling you through the confines of fabric.

"Sit tight, pretty baby. Let me get situated." You part from his lips, planting one last kiss on his cheek before you're de-straddling yourself from his hips.

Your eyes zone in on his, reaching beneath your skirt to meticulously dance your way out of your lacy panties, as per his request for your skirt to stay on.

He watches through hooded eyes, discreetly moving his hand to palm himself through his jeans. You catch him out of the corner of your eye, as you partially undress yourself.

"Slow down, tiger. Save some for me."

"You're not making it any easier, ya’ tease." He grumbles, the corners of his mouth coming to a catty point.

You decided that a strip tease was enough, already feeling bad for making him wait this long. A nervous swirl settles in your stomach; having never done this before, you weren't sure what to expect.

But you knew that whatever was about to happen, Ashton would make it worth wild.

"C'mere," Ashton calls to you with two fingers, and you oblige, straddling his lap once again as his hands find you like a magnet.

"Where do you want me?"

"On my face."

You scoff, "Well duh, Ash."

"I'm serious. Don't know if I can go another fuckin' minute without your thighs as my earmuffs. Get up here. Now."

"Yes sir," you joke, shifting upward on his body. Your bare core was hovering over his chest, and he was practically drooling at the sight of you.

He gives you a quick asking glance, eyes wide and glassy as they had been since the second you two stepped off of the tour bus. You could tell how elated he was merely from the size of his pupils.

"Ready?" He asks gently, noticing you lingering.

"Think so." You suck in a deep breath, finding comfort in your boyfriend's eyes.

"Gonna start nice and slow. Nothin' to worry about." He runs a hand up your thigh, pushing up your skirt and exposing your body to him a little more.

"What makes you think I'm worried?" you quip.

"I can just see it in your eyes, baby."

The room did feel like it was spinning, but you were more bashful than nervous. But you could tell that Ashton didn’t care about the semantics of it all.

He just wanted to taste you.

After taking a moment to regain your confidence, you raise your hips. Ashton shifts down below you, peeking under your skirt at the mess you’ve already made of yourself.

"So wet, already? Damn Y/N, I’ve barely even touched you yet."

"You talk a big game for a man who practically melts when I call him pretty."

Ashton rolls his eyes, "Less talking, more ‘sit on my fuckin’ face, please’."

His hands cradle the backs of your thighs, which makes you sigh. You loved the feeling of his weathered palms; and how tenderly they scraped against your skin. Being high was only furthering that euphoria, enough to distract you from how antsy you were.

You finally let yourself lower onto his face, immediately feeling his nose nudging against your clit.

"Shit—" you hiss, for Ashton wastes no time in licking a healthy stripe up your slit.

Your muscles start to relax as his tongue moves within you, paying attention to your sounds and the jolts of your hips. He braces himself on your thighs, as you look down to see his face engulfed by your flesh and the fabric of your skirt.

"Can— can I watch?" You ask through shaky breaths, only for Ashton to knock his nose against your clit once again and release a moan from the back of your throat.

When he hums in response, a course of electricity shocks your veins. You knew that meant he was saying yes, but the feeling of him vibrating against your core brought your heart rate to double.

You start to rock your hips slowly, feeding into the motions of his tongue chipping away at you. You reach your hands down to lift your skirt, only to reveal two bright green eyes staring back at you between your thighs.

The sight of him beneath you, so eager to please you, could’ve had you cumming right on the spot. But you were enjoying this far too much to let it end right now.

"Ash, oh my god—" You whimper, the combination of his pleading eyes and nimble tongue having you doubled over in ecstasy.

You’re too busy staring down at him to notice how he’d closed his eyes and started to move faster. The speed at which his tongue was lapping against you brought your hands to fly to your chest. You started to pinch your own nipples above your shirt, but Ash was quick to notice.

His arm shoots up to knock against yours, moving it out of the way so that he could get his greedy hands on your tits.

"Fuck— please, please," you beg, although you weren’t really sure what you were begging for. It was taking everything in your power to hold off on your orgasm and enjoy this for as long as possible.

You look down at his face again to see the tip of his nose glittering with your arousal, sweaty black curls stuck, and rearranged to his forehead.

You can’t help but smile, letting out a few more whines and whimpers as you grind your hips. He was still toying with your nipple, but made the executive decision to slide his hand beneath your shirt.

He pinches your nipple between his fingers, receiving pleasure merely from the sounds slipping past your lips. Your entire body felt like it was set ablaze, your core warm and fuzzy from the weed and attention you were receiving from your boyfriend’s tongue.

"Ash, please—" You plead again, as Ashton’s hand switches to massaging your entire breast, still working up into you and lapping at your clit from time to time. "—Gonna cum’ soon."

A muffled groan could be heard from beneath you, sending a course of electricity through your veins. He was letting you know that he heard you loud and clear, but he wasn’t quite ready to give in just yet.

When the feeling of your impending orgasm gets to be too much, you start to panic.

"Wait— I—"

Without thinking, you lift yourself off of his face, instantly whining at the loss of contact from his mouth and the feeling of accidentally edging yourself.

“Baby, my God," he sighs, breathlessly, “don’t stop. Need— need you t’ cum on my face.”

His cheeks are slick with your arousal, lips glistening as he darts his tongue out to clean some of it off.

"Are you sure?" You mumble in return, still slightly dizzy from the whirlpool happening in your lower half. But Ashton then anchors his hands on your waist, giving your flesh a gentle, pleading squeeze.

"Yes please, baby. Fuckin’ soak me. Let me taste you while you cum for me."

He’s nodding frantically, reciprocating that energy of never wanting this moment to end.

"Ashton, I--"

"Keep saying my name, darlin'. Sounds so fuckin' hot comin' out of your mouth."

You can’t shake the feeling of your orgasm being on the brink for any longer, so you waste no time. His heavy breathing and bloodshot eyes has your stomach in knots.

You re-mount his face, starting your rhythm of rocking hips once more in time with his tongue.

That wave of bliss hits you again, picking up right where you had left off. You’re whining and groaning, still feeling his fingertips digging into you and holding you stable.

"Oh, Ashton."

He groans beneath you at the angelic sound of his name rolling off of your tongue. For extra stability while you grind into him, your grasp flies to the headboard, holding on tightly as you ride out your high.

"I’m so close, Ash… keep— keep going… fuck!"

Your body was shifting into overdrive, your head tossing back to let out a guttural whine from your chest.

”I’m— I’m cumming… Fuck, Ashton!"

The knot in your stomach finally snaps, sending a wave of chills rumbling down your limbs and practically taking the headboard off of the wall with the sheer force of your orgasm.

You whine as the sensation rolls out, gradually slowing down your rhythmic hips above your boyfriend, who was as stiff as a board.

"Ashton, holy fucking shit," you giggle, letting out a long sigh. But he was unresponsive. You look down between your thighs again at those glowing fern eyes, pupils large and wavering.

"You good, pretty boy?" You move to sit on his chest, his head resting between your knees and revealing that slicked face for a second time. His shocked, lust-fueled expression morphs into a wicked smile, before he runs his hands up and down the tops of your thighs.

"You're fuckin' crazy."

You shrug, "What can I say? You bring out the best in me."

He laughs again, taking a moment to breathe and run a hand through his sweaty charcoal curls.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N," he breathes, still admiring your body as if he hadn't just sent it into shock.

"What? You asked for it."

"Honestly, I could go again."

"I know we've got time but let's not get too ahead of ourselves," you tut, taking a hand to grab his cheeks, still between your legs, "A warm bath would definitely be nice, though. I'm still a kinda high."

He nods, "I could do that, yea... But the question is whether or not that tub is big enough for the both of us."

"Who said you were invited?" you joke.

"After what just happened on my face? Baby, I think ya' owe me one."

Your head was still a tad foggy so naturally, you found yourself giggling at everything coming out of your boyfriend's mouth. He smiles up at you warmly, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip.

"Hey, what time is it anyway?"

"Not too late for you to run me a bath, if that's what you're implying."

He scoffs, using his broad hands to shift you down onto his lap so that he could sit upright.

"It's never too late for a bath, darlin'. I just wanted to know if I killed some time." He turns his head to glance over at the alarm clock on the bedside table, as do you.

"1:30." You say in unison.

"And only..." he looks at his wrist, acting as if he has on a watch, "...seven and a half more hours 'till call time."

Both you and Ashton laugh, while he's still tracing little heart patterns along your legs. "What if we took a seven and a half hour bath?" You suggest, feeding off of his teasing energy.

"We'd come out looking like fuckin' prunes."

"I'd say it's worth it...if it meant seven and a half more hours with you."

He moves his wandering hands to cup your face, cocking his head subtly to the side. You felt the sparks practically flying off of his fingertips as he looks at you with a beaming grin.

"Seven and a half hours doesn't mean a thing. We've got all the time in the goddamn world."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[souperbloom]

Tours over!! We def need a blurb of the boys coming home. Preferably Ash I swear I’ve read everything written about Ashton :/

thank you for the request, friend! i do agree, we are in dire need of some Ash homecoming content. how about a smutty little reunion? ;0

hope you enjoy <3

————————

honey, i’m home! [A.I.]

🏠 i’m biased towards this photo because i was there, teehee

boyfriend!ash. a reunion, if you will. :)

after a long three months away on tour, your boyfriend Ashton finally comes home.

CONTENT WARNINGS: references to weed, suggestive language, pet names.

WORDCOUNT: 1.9k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Today was the day.

After three months of an empty couch, an unraided fridge, and the divot on the right side of your mattress growing cold, your boyfriend Ashton was finally coming home.

Today was the fuckin’ day.

You sat on the edge of your seat, literally, barely taking up any space on the couch cushions. Your feet were bolted to the floor, practically ready to blast off into space.

Or, to jump up and greet him.

You’d check your phone every now and then, watching the hours tick by growing later and later, and occasionally seeing your lover’s name light up the screen.

There have been a few updates on his ETA, random photos from his camera roll of the two of you, and even some mindless, lovesick babbling. Rambling on about how much he missed you and ‘couldn’t wait to come home to see your sweet face.’

Each time his name popped up, you’d smile; feeling nothing short of a kid in a candy store. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face not only after seeing you, but after seeing what you had planned.

You had decided to make Ashton’s homecoming an event, of sorts. A dreamy date night filled with all of his favorite things that you were sure he was missing.

And, of course, being that you knew him better than anyone in this world, you made sure to think of everything.

A fresh bouquet of daisies on the kitchen table, straight from his favorite farmer’s market. A joint, rolled with love, for the two of you to share and smoke out on your balcony. A fridge stocked full of his favorite snacks and foods.

And lastly, the pièce de résistance of it all.

A few days prior, you had gone out shopping on your own at the little boutiques down on Rodeo. You found yourself wandering into a quaint lingerie shop, only to walk out with the most beautiful, most expensive, two-piece set that ever graced their mannequins.

It was an emerald green two-piece, covered in floral lace and complete with its own matching silk slip. You thought it was perfect for the comfortable, homesick-curing aura you were trying to create around you and Ashton’s home.

And green is Ashton’s favorite color, after all.

After a few more moments of quiet, the mellow sounds of classic rock streaming softly out of your speaker, your phone lights up.

ASHTON ❥:

Be home in 5. Love you so much.

Can’t wait 2 see you. xo

It took everything in you not to let out a piercingly loud girlish squeal, rocking back and forth on the couch and clutching your phone like it was just going to just fly right out of your hands. But you didn’t want risk your neighbors thinking you were being attacked—

You didn’t want a repeat of the last time Ashton made you scream.

With Ashton’s messages still shining on your screen, you toss your phone to the side. You decide to stand up from your permanent spot on the couch, and do one last run around of the house to make sure everything was perfect, and in order.

The flowers were still on the kitchen table, yes. The sweets and fresh fruits were all still in the fridge, right where you had left them. Your bed was still made, thank God, and the stick of incense you had lit still had about an hour of life left in it.

Safe to say, everything you had thought of was perfect.

As you walk through the halls of your spacious, yet lived in home, you hear a familiar sound.

A click.

Then, another.

A squeak.

And one last sound that made your heart start to flutter.

"Honey, I’m home!"

Without a second to think, you’re rushing towards the front door. Your socked feet padded along the hardwood floors as you ran, cutting corners and slipping along.

"Baby? I hear you…"

The sweet sound of his voice grew louder, your heart just ready to burst and pop out of your throat into fireworks. You round the corner to the foyer—

And there he was.

"Ashton!" You gleam, finally seeing him for the first time since he had started his journey out of the country and across the world.

He sported unkempt, overgrown curls and a black trench coat, that was tugged off slightly from the heavy duffle bags that sat on his broad shoulders.

It was almost impossible for you not to swoon.

You barrel past his bags as he drops them on the floor, jumping into his arms and practically lifting yourself off of the ground.

"Hi, sweetheart," he hums into your ear with a voice like honey, as your body clings onto his, "I missed you so fuckin’ much."

He holds you tightly, his cologne hitting your nose almost instantly with the way you had your face buried in the crook of his neck.

"I missed you more, baby— fuck— I missed you." Your words are slightly muffled by the material of his coat, not long before he’s pulling away from the hug to get a better look at you.

"Look at you. Fuckin’ look at my girl. Thought I was dreaming when I saw this sweet face again," he trails off, letting his eyes linger behind your head to admire all of the little sweet nothings you had prepared for him, "Is this all for me?"

"Mhm, it is. You are definitely not dreaming," you hum, proudly.

Ashton pulls you in for one last squeeze, then places a sloppy kiss upon your lips.

"I am the luckiest guy in the world," he sighs, adjusting his arms around you, "Think I gotta get a better look at all the stuff my girl did f’me."

"Come in, stay a while." You try your hand at biting back a smile as you pull away from him, but can’t seem to contain the elated expression plastered on your face.

He shrugs off his coat, hanging it on the hook next to yours. Inhaling deeply, he smiles, "Do I smell Paolo Santo?"

"Mhmmm." Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, with your arms behind your back as you swing impatiently from side to side.

"Good choice," he nods.

"Your favorite."

With all of his bags now on the floor, and his Doc Martens still laced to his ankles, he quietly steps through the foyer to the kitchen. You watch from behind him through adoring eyes, loving every second of watching him discover each and every little detail.

"Daisies—?" He tosses you a sweet look over his shoulder, but stops in his tracks as his eyes meet yours.

He scans down your frame, finally taking in what you had been waiting for. The emerald green silk slip, in all of its glory.

"Holy shit—" he stops himself again, turning all the way around to face you.

"Well, whatdaya’ think of my outfit?" You ask, fanning out your hands and showing off the full extent of the dress and all of its means of hugging your curves.

His jaw hangs open slightly, before he crosses his arms over his chest. That expression of shock melts into a cheeky smile.

"Honestly, now I’m thinking about what it’s gonna look like on the floor."

He starts to walk towards you, his taller frame looming over you as you tilt your head to look at him with a pout.

"On the floor, Ash? This was expensive!"

When his hands find your waist, you freeze. His fingertips dance along the silky materiel that dressed your hips, pulling you into him.

"Money can buy you a new one, sweetheart. But— I’m afraid no money can buy how much I’ve been missing you."

Your lips push to the side, now feeling slightly electric at the feeling of his gentle touch.

"Didn’t know you missed me that much."

"No?" He quips, "Well then why don’t I show you? Show you just how much I’ve been missin’ ya."

Something inside of you snaps, the twinkle in his eyes making you giddy— you reach out to him, slithering your arms around his neck to pull him into you.

When his lips land on yours you sigh, like a forty pound weight being lifted off of your shoulders. You missed the sweetness of his kiss; the taste of his lips, and tongue on yours.

You were a puzzle that had found its missing piece. Whole again.

Ashton’s hands travel down your sides, greedily wandering across each and every part of you that he had been deprived of in the last three months.

The promise ring you had gifted him right before he left was now right back to its rightful owner, scorching your flesh in all of the places you had been dying for him to touch. To see. To have again.

His hands had now found their way to your ass, making you shiver.

"Jump." He mumbles messily into your lips.

You oblige, jumping up and locking your ankles around the small of his back.

As the kiss between you grows hungry, Ashton starts to move you. He walks you past the threshold of the kitchen, and over to the island.

You had already started to feel that familiar, swirling feeling you get whenever he’s around you; let alone the feelings that came with him so effortlessly picking you up and walking around the house with you in his arms.

He releases your lips, brushing his nose against yours as he he starts to walk the both of you closer to the marble countertop.

"I’ve been waitin’ so long to take care of you properly, sweetheart— But at this rate, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it t’ the bedroom."

As he speaks, he lowers you gently onto the cool marble. You let out a giggle at his eagerness. "I don’t mind, baby. You can have me anytime, any place. I’m all yours."

His hands find your waist again, sliding you forward into his hips. He knocks his forehead against your own, before granting you a quick kiss.

"You’re all mine?" He asks again, as if your words of confirmation weren’t enough for him the first time.

"Yes, Ash. I’m all yours."

His lips find their way to your jaw, starting a trail of gentle kisses down towards the nape of your neck. He stays there for a moment, tenderly nipping at the fragile flesh.

"’Don’t know who I bribed in heaven to get sent down an angel as perfect as you— ‘Don’t know how I got so lucky..."

He kisses your neck again as your hands get lost in his lush curls. You can’t help but tug down on them, just the way he likes it.

With one final kiss at your collarbone, he pops his head back up to meet you. But as he makes his way up, something on the counter catches his eye.

His eyebrow quirks, as he reaches behind you and picks up the joint you had rolled for him.

"Now, what’s all this?" He asks, waving the pre-roll in front of your face with a mischievous smirk.

"Just a little somethin’ special," you grin, your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip, "But we can worry about that later…"

He lets out a breathy laugh, putting the joint down in it’s spot the counter and reaching back up to cup your cheeks with his blistered, earthy palms.

"You really thought of everything didn’t you— my sweet girl."

Your cheeks tinge pink, unable to control your urges as you plant another big kiss onto his soft lips.

"Welcome home, Ashton."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[souperbloom]

also with this, i’ll be temporarily closing my requests. i hate to do it, but i dug myself in a hole & now i have too many projects happening all at once— im not quite equipped to manage them all (whoops!) requests will open back up once i’m all caught up in early february. but until then, feel free to pop into my inbox to ask questions, or even just to chat! i’m always always here <3 much love

hello friends i am currently living it up on vacation; all projects and requests will resume when i get back 😎 thank u for ur patience as always soup nation <3

[souperbloom]

HI PEEPS! in light of getting out a bit of a writer’s block/rut & FINALLY publishing tangerine, tangerine…. i’m officially reopening my requests (YIPPEE!!!) so if you have anything on your mind, anything at all really, meet me in the inbox ;)

xoxo, soup

[souperbloom]

have so many fun requests that i’ve been DYING to write but the shackles of school have got me chained down </3 GRRRR what if i just open my request box again so i can see the little messages come in JUST FOR FUNZIES IDK!!!!

[maybankbae]

everytime i see a souperbloom notification my day is immediately turned better.

would you be able to write smth with ash or luke abt him and reader trying to get pregnant and they lowk discover he has a breeding kink?? i feel like both of them r the type to want to be fathers so bad so the idea of putting a baby in their girls sends them fckn insane

wrote (most of) this request in the Bahamas, thought i’d put my own spin on it. felt hashtag: inspired.

enjoy <3

————

island time. [A.I.]

🦜 honeymoon!Ashton

freshly married and lost in paradise, you and your husband Ashton make a brand new discovery on your picturesque Caribbean getaway.

a/n: god this is literally the most domestic shit i have ever written (but also not at the same time???) i need to be put down after this one

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut’n’fluff!, brief mentions of drinkin’ & smokin’, exhibitionism/semi-public sex, dirty talk, trying for a baby/mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink (duh.)

the end counts as cockwarming? eye-d-kay!!

WORDCOUNT: TBD

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Light peeks through the silky white curtains of your honeymoon suite, waking you up with the sunshine splashing against your cheeks. You close your eyes tighter, hoping maybe for a second you’d be able to lull yourself back to sleep.

In your daze, you swing your arm over to the side of the mattress, expecting to feel another body lying there. But rather than a broad, sleeping giant, you’re met with a fist full of bedsheets.

You mumble to yourself, finally cracking open your eyes to see that your newly wedded husband, Ashton, was nowhere to be found.

You let yourself sit up fully, only to find a stripped comforter, and a small piece of notebook paper folded neatly in half resting on the pillow beside you.

"Gone surfing. Meet me down by the beach. Love you. x"

That was all that was written, aside from the little animated surfer drawn on the corner of the paper holding his hand in a shaka, and a little speech bubble that read: “Cowabunga, baby!”

You giggle down at the comic, your heart already feeling so full from how amazing this honeymoon has gone so far. It was only day three of your dreamy fifteen-day getaway.

You’d originally agreed to ten but of course, Ashton convinced you otherwise.

It didn’t take long to shimmy out of your pajamas and into that new bikini Ashton had insisted on buying you, down at the little gift shop in the town square. When he saw how your eyes lit up after seeing it on the mannequin, he knew he couldn’t have you go another sunny beach day without it.

So, he snuck down to the gift shop that same night after you went to sleep, and left it beside your pillow the next morning.

The sun had already been up for a few hours, reminding you how surreal it felt to be in such a beautiful, tropical place. Now, as a married woman.

Even the simple task of waking up and rolling out of bed had you feeling like an entirely new person. You were grateful for the days passing slowly, being able to spend much needed quality time with your husband, Ashton.

It still felt crazy, calling him that.

Once you freshened up, lathering lotion on every exposed area of your body and tying up your hair for better access to the sun, you headed down to meet Ashton at the beach.

The crisp morning breeze made you grateful for Ashton’s long sleeve henley top that you had decided to throw on as a coverup, shielding your new bikini from the hotel lobby employees and saving the view for the one who really wanted to see it.

The scent of his cologne lingering on the shirt was a plus, too.

You made your way down the stone pathway towards the beach, already having an idea where your husband would be. It didn’t take long to spot his overgrown chestnut mullet blowing in the breeze, chatting up the bartenders that were working the early morning shift.

As you near, you notice the wetsuit draped on the back of his bar seat, surely used to surf and dried off by now. You creep up to him slowly, taking in the sight of his sandy, bare back and slightly sunburnt shoulders.

The bartender notices you before Ashton does, so you press your index finger against your lips to tell them to keep it a surprise. Although Ash doesn’t drink, he’d made it his mission to befriend every single employee at this resort; just one of the many quirks of his kindhearted soul.

Without a word, you get close enough to latch your arms around his neck, attacking him with a bear hug. Slightly startled, Ashton’s head whips around knowing it was you, yet just double checking to be sure.

"Ah— there’s my beautiful wife," he murmurs sweetly, before slapping a wet kiss on your arm, "G’mornin’, gorgeous."

"Good morning to you too, handsome."

"Y’know, I don’t think I’ll ever get over being able to call you that,” His eyes peer over at your head resting on his shoulder, and you look back with the same amount of love and adoration.

"Get used to it. But don’t wear it out," you jab.

As your arms are still locked around him, you look down and notice the smoke funneling up between his body and the bar.

"Bright and early, huh? A joint to start the day," you hum to him, as he twists around to pull you between his legs.

"You know what they say about the early bird, sweet pea."

There was comfort in knowing that everyone at this bar knew you and Ashton, already having made accordance with each of them. He knew all of their names, as did you. He also snuck around and told them all of your favorite drinks when you weren’t around; Ashton was making it impossible for you to ever want to leave.

"Got a surprise for you." Ashton grabs the bartender’s attention with a quick, yet polite, whistle. He orders you a breakfast mimosa, which makes you giggle, speaking on the fact that you hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet.

"And what might that be?" You ask, traipsing your finger along his thigh right next to the hemline of his navy blue swim shorts, "Is it another bikini? Because I’ve already got one of those."

"No, it’s much better than a bikini— But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping to see that bikini on you right now." He grabs your hips, pulling you to sit between his legs on the barstool.

You chuckle quietly, satisfied to know him like the back of your hand. "Well, I guess today’s your lucky day."

After a few minutes of back and forth with your bartender friend and a couple of weak sips to your mimosa, Ashton pats your hip as a signal for you to dismount the barstool and follow him.

He’s very quiet in doing this, giving you shoddy answers to your curious questions and leaving no room to the imagination as you walk hand in hand along the beach.

"I’m gonna cover your eyes at some point, but promise me you won’t start screaming for help or anything like that," He jokes and you scoff, squeezing his hand tightly.

"I would never. Plus, what’s a surprise without a bit of kinky blindfolding?"

"Mimosa’s doing its job already I see," he says with a grin, “Maybe I won’t need to cover your eyes— you’ll be seeing stars by the time we get there."

"Are you calling me a lightweight? You’re the one that’s trying to get me drunk at ten in the morning!"

You’re starting to reach unfamiliar territory on the beach now, watching the beachgoers slowly dwindle to only a few straggling joggers and surfers.

"Nobody’s trying to get you drunk, sweet pea. You just gotta learn to let loose... I thought I’d give you the upper hand and start your morning off with a drink. You’re on island time now."

You shrug as if to say, fair enough, before Ash pulls you tightly into his side. He locks his arm around your head, using his palm to cover your eyes and his body to guide you to the right place. You lose your balance at the sudden loss of vision, but Ashton is right there to catch you, letting you fall into his chest with a giggle.

"Shit, no warning? What the fuck kind of morning have you been having?"

You could practically hear his smile without even having to see it, "A great one. And it’s about to get even better."

A few more steps are taken before Ash is pulling you back to stop you from walking any further. You noticed that he had walked you into the sand, rather than the pathway you had been on the entire time.

"Okay, just a few more steps— easy does it…" He’s holding up your temporarily ailed body, walking you through soft tropical sand. There were moments where you’d misstep, sending your feet tripping right out of your sandals and leaving Ashton to come to your rescue.

"I promise I’m not drunk, my God… Don’t know what’s gotten into me today," you try to cover up your wave of embarrassment with a giggle, and Ash laughs along.

"No worries— Take one more big step for me, okay?"

You take one final comically large step into the sand, and stop when you feel his body come to one as well. His large hand over your face was undoubtedly making you sweat, but you didn’t really have the heart to tell him.

"Are we here?"

“Mhm," he coos, "You ready, sweet pea?"

"As ready as I’ll ever be," you smile.

Suddenly, his hand lifts from off of your face. You’re first met with a blinding light, but as your eyes adjust, you start to take in the scenery.

A lush, empty plot of beach with scattered palm trees and bushes. The crystal clear water blended in with the sky, not a single cloud throughout the entire shoreline.

You look around, confused for a moment, wondering why Ashton had brought you to a random empty plot of beach.

"Did you just walk me in circles to show me what I’ve been seeing for the last three days?"

Ashton lets out a snort, his hands finding your hips in front of you before he places a gentle kiss upon your lips.

"You’re funny. Turn around."

With his hands to help spin you, you turn around, faced with something you had been begging for since the moment you touched down in the Caribbean.

A private cabana.

"No. Fucking. Way!" You squeal excitedly, accidentally ripping yourself from his grasp to run up to the three little steps, "And here I am sounding like a fuckin’ dickhead—"

Ashton shrugs, "You learned from the best… Go ahead. Check it out."

He stands cross armed with a smug smile, watching you run laps around the cabana. You take in the dark wooden support beams and blue linen that surrounded them. There was a sheer white curtain in place of a door, and fairy lights strung on the outside. You’d seen them around the beach in the passing days, but you swore this was prettier than any of the ones you’d seen so far.

"Ash, it’s fucking gorgeous!" You gush, standing to the side of it and hugging one of the wooden beams.

"Wait ‘till you see the inside. C’mon," he holds out his hand walking towards you, and you take it gleefully. When you make your way up the steps, Ashton pulls back the curtain and slides them open just enough for the two of you to walk in.

A king sized beach bed sat between two wicker bedside tables. Sun rays shone through the straw roof, leaking light onto the power blue sheets

And on one of the little beside tables, two breakfast plates.

"So, you did have a reason for getting me that mimosa," You chuckle, fluttering down onto the bed while still taking in the interior.

"I had good intentions… Too bad you drank the whole thing before we got here,” says Ashton, plopping down next to you.

"If I’m on island time now, why wait?"

Ashton snakes his arm over your shoulder, the two of you watching the palm trees sway in the late morning winds, and listening to the ocean crash against the shore. You lean your head on his shoulder, taking in a deep breath.

"This is just— beautiful, Ash. Thank you for doing this."

"Anything for you, sweet pea. Making you my wife was only half the battle. You know I’d give you the world if you asked. A beachside cabana is nothin’."

Your heart swells at his kind words, feeling so overflowed with love that you have no choice but to tackle him onto the bed with a kiss.

It’s slow at first, his lips slotting against yours quickly and finding the rhythm you claim. But as your tongues entwine, the kiss deepens. His hands find your waist, pulling you onto his lap and spreading his legs to give you a place to rest your hips.

"Baby," you hum, giggling while Ashton’s lips are occupied by the nape of your neck, "What about breakfast?"

"Breakfast can wait. You're only thing I wanna’ be tasting right now."

Although flustered by his words alone, you pull away to look at him, a soft sigh escaping his lips at the lack of you. You proceed whack him on the chest, trying to keep alive the magic of the beachside cabana without getting too distracted by your hunk of a husband.

Well, at least not just yet.

”Breakfast cannot wait! Don’t let my friskiness ruin the amazing morning you planned. We’ll get back to it soon enough."

His bottom lip is caught between his teeth in a pout as he is about to protest, but you cut him off with a disapproving gaze.

"You had me last night and you still want more?"

"Always want you. This is nothing new."

The way he seamlessly draws you back into a kiss seemed impossible, how suddenly you were pulled right back to where you, your body, and mind were last night.

And the night before. And the night before that.

Your heart begins to race when his teeth sink into your bottom lip, pulling down agonizingly slow and testing every last bit of your decorum. You whine into him, gripping his chest so roughly that little crescent etchings are left in the place of your fingernails.

"Ash—," you whimper, barely pulling enough air from your chest to utter his full name.

"I hear you baby, I hear you…"

Ashton could tell you were getting greedy, from the way your hips ground down into his. How the friction of his bulge held captive in his swim shorts was giving you just the right amount of pressure you needed.

You didn’t care about a good breakfast, or why Ashton was refusing one. Not anymore. You didn’t care about anything.

Except for him.

The kiss picks back up and suddenly, you weren’t even sure how, the henley top that was once clad to your back was now strew across the floor. Ashton’s hands roamed up your sides, grasping at your ribcage as you continued to swivel your hips.

"So fuckin’ perfect—" Ash mumbles, in a dreamlike state that made his gritty voice sound even deeper. Music to your fucking ears. "And, you’re wearing the hell outta’ that bikini."

"Whatever my husband wants, my husband gets," you muse, bottom lip tender from the incessant nipping.

After a few more minutes of tender kisses and tugs at your bikini strings, Ashton's motions had grown more ravenous.

"Well, your husband wants you to take it off," he teases, continuing the soft banter from before and shifting the both of you up towards the headboard.

"I think that could be arranged," you reply, watching the little streaks of sunlight from above create patterns across his bare chest, "Wanna do it for me?"

"You know I fuckin' do."

He couldn't get the words out fast enough before he was pulling the strings and the bikini top was falling between your bodies, exposing your bare chest to his hungry, wandering eyes.

"My god, that never gets old," he gawks, reaching his hands up with no time to waste and taking your nipples between his fingers.

The action alone draws a moan from the back of your throat, and makes you grind down onto his hips hard enough to feel his hard-on practically popping out of his swim trunks. It had been a long and rather busy few days out on the island with Ashton. And you'd be lying if you said that the two of you weren't on a... mission.

Is it really that cliché to try for a baby on your honeymoon?

"Baby," you moan, breathless, smitten, "please. Now. We— we have to—"

Ashtons eyes widen at your subtle command, shoulders tensing at those subdued words and piecing together exactly where your head was at.

"Yeah, yeah... I've gotcha sweet pea."

It was your turn to be the dominant one now, ordering him around with your eyes as he slowly lifted you off of his hips and began to slide out of his swim trunks. You sat and waited patiently, perched on your knees with a wicked smile.

Ashton's excitement at your tries for pregnancy never failed to make you swoon; could've been because you were ovulating, or because you were so infatuated with the idea of starting a family with him. Either way, neither of you were complaining.

"Lay down f'me?"

His words break your spell and suddenly you're following his command. You shift and rest your head against the fluffy down pillows, running your hands along your chest towards your midriff.

Ashton’s blistered palms make headway up your thighs, prying your legs open like he was parting those crystal blue waves you’d been swimming in all week. His eyes feast on your sprawled out figure, examining each and every dip and curve.

"God, you’re beautiful. Could’ stare at you all day, sweet pea." He breaths shakily, his head sort of reeling, like a mental game of ping pong. He wasn’t sure where to start with his pretty girl, and it was so, so obvious.

"Don’t have time for that baby," you purr, watching him slither around you delicately as though you were made of porcelain, "Need you— now."

"You need me now? Since when did you start calling the shots around here?" Ashton chuckles, the shade of his honey green eyes slightly flickering to that of a foggy forest.

Right as you’re about to open your mouth to reply, his grip on your thighs tightens. You help out in pleasure, then quickly clamp your lips shut as he settles himself between your legs.

His chest presses against the sheets and his face is now inches away from your core, pulsing and aching through your swimsuit bottoms and practically screaming for his attention.

"Such a pretty angle. Love seein’ you like this," he drawls, his gaze pointed at where you needed him most.

A gentle whimper gets caught behind your teeth as you attempt to shift beneath him, only making that grip he had on your legs tighten just a bit more.

"Tryin’ t’ fight your way out of this, aren’t you?" he mocks, moving his hands to the inside of your legs and firmly pressing your knees down to the mattress, "You can’t go all shy on me now, sweet pea."

There was something predatory about the way he was acting; stalking like he was on the hunt for just a bit more than the feeling of you wrapped around him. He wanted to savor this moment, this fun little game of cat and mouse.

"Ashton, please," you beg.

Either he was choosing to ignore you or he didn’t hear it at all, but your plea remained empty as his head ducked down to press a kiss below your naval.

"Gonna’ fill you up real’ nice..." he groans into your flesh, teeth nipping at the delicate skin, "Would you like that? Want me to fill you up with my cum, baby?"

You nod sheepishly, resorting to tucking your bottom lip between your teeth as his teasing continues.

"Gotta use those words, beautiful. I know you’ve got a mouth on ya’."

"Yes," you blurt, "I’m— I’m ready. Please, fill me up baby, please."

His eyebrows raise in amusement and the death grip he once had on your knees finally loosens. He uses his arms to stalk towards you, crawling up your body so that the two of you met at eye level.

"Say that again for me?"

As you open your mouth to repeat the words that descended your husband into madness, you feel a broad hand sneak between your legs and push your swimsuit bottoms to the side. His finger slips between your dripping folds, running a line up and stopping to gently toy with your clit. The steadfast eye contact remained.

"Are you paying attention, sweet pea? I said, say it again."

You stutter for a moment, unable to coherently collect the words on your tongue as he continued to tease you. "Baby please— Want you t’ fill me up—"

"Gonna’ make you mine, sweet pea. I promise. And since I did it already then fuck it baby, I’ll do it again."

His tip prods at your entrance while your eyes frantically dart across the various features on his face. You watch his plump lips part slightly, and the notch in his brow grow more prominent as he savors that first stroke.

The two of you sigh in unison, in bliss, at that first initial feeling of him filling you perfectly. He has no choice but to gaze into your eyes, the ones that had been looking at him with equal admiration this entire time.

"Fuck, baby— so fuckin’ tight n’ ready for me, yeah?"

His starting thrusts are slow, each stroke hitting deeper within your lower abdomen and creating pressure throughout your entire body. You hold your breath, savoring that feeling before letting it out with a labored groan.

"F-feels so good, Ashton. Can— can feel you everywhere."

What you were saying hardly made any sense; but that never mattered to Ashton. All he knew was that the feeling of his cock meticulously hitting that sweet spot every time was enough to get you buzzed.

Love drunk, if you will.

"Takin’ my cock so well. Like such a good girl. How fuckin’ perfect you are, baby— and you’re all mine."

The eye contact between you was blazing, the heat radiating off of his cheeks flushing against yours. You could barely keep your eyes open as his hips began to snap faster and faster, his breathing becoming more gritty and labored.

"Ashton, baby, oh my God— please—" you cry out, the wooden bed frame now shaking and whacking against the walls of the cabana with the force of his limitless thrusts.

"Feels good, sweet pea? Gonna fill you up with my fuckin’ cum, baby. Gonna fill you up n’ fuck it into you nice and deep. You’re mine. All fuckin’ mine."

You take your hands and cup his face, watching his pupils bounce as his lips weave into a wicked smile. Sweat slicked his forehead as he looked down on you, eager to please you and so satisfied with the way you’d been falling apart.

"Fuckin— touch yourself. Please, God— touch yourself for me, pretty? Wanna hear more of those sweet sounds you make."

Your jaw drops, as does your hand from his cheek. Your hand then moves to finds your clit in record time, and you begin to rub it in quick circles. The simple action causes an electric shock to run down your spine, only amplifying the pleasure going forward.

"Gonna cum together, yeah?" asks Ashton, who had resorted to tucking his head into the crook of your neck and occasionally biting down on the meat of your collarbone, "Gonna’ cum with my girl— fuck, baby. You feel incredible."

"Mmmh."

You only find enough strength in you to hum as the speed of his thrusts increases. It was hard to take your eyes off of him and surely the feeling was mutual; it had become a competition of who could look at the other with the most love and devotion.

"Fuck, I’m close—" Ashton blurts, his voice weakening, "Ready for me, baby?"

"Yes, yes, yes, fuck yes," you cry out, still pawing circles at your clit as the rhythm you once claimed grows sloppy.

"Want you t’ feel my cum so deep inside you, my girl… Been so fuckin’ good t’me. Always are."

The two of you groan, loudly. It echoes and bounces off of the quaint walls of the cabana as Ashton finally releases inside of you. You could feel his liquid pooling, mixing with the juices of your own arousal and God, did it feel incredible.

A collective sigh is shared not long before Ashton dips down again to place another kiss onto the sweet spot of your neck, "Ashton, baby— oh my God."

"Gonna’ put that baby in you, sweet pea. Can fuckin’ bet on it," he states. A groan mixed with some sort of pathetic whine as he slowly pulls half of his length out of your pussy.

Right as you’re about to let out a sigh of relief, he rams himself back into you.

"Fuck!" you cry, pinching your eyes shut for the first time since this whole ordeal has started. He was awfully cocky about it all but then again, it wouldn’t be Mr. and Mrs. Irwin without a bit of a boast.

"Feel that? That to me feels like a success," Ashton gloats, his eyes mocking your tightly knit brows and scrunched up nose.

A chuckle falls past your lips as you relish in the feeling; you and your husband becoming one soul. You can’t seem to get your attention to stray away from the mousy brown curls that had flopped out of their style and into his eyes. How obscenely intimate it felt to be this close to your husband in all of his glowing, sweaty, post-sex glory.

"That doesn’t mean we can’t try again tomorrow," you tease him, brushing a rogue curl from his eye, "We’re still here for another week and a half."

"If it were up to me, we’d do this every day. But, I don’t wanna wear you out. Husband and wife now, yanno? Gotta you can, uh— keep up."

The two of you chuckle and sigh, basking in the feeling of his cock still buried inside of you and sharing the love of the intimacy.

"Hey, I think I could keep up with your beastly self. You’ve just gotta give me the chance to prove it."

Ashton spares you a warm smile, the same smile that won you over the first time you’d ever met him.

"I love you, baby."

"God, I love you more."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆