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talkfastromance4 · 1 year

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Feel my love—Ashton Irwin oneshot

a/n: this is not what I originally planned for this to go but, here we are🙃

Warnings: body worship (I think at least), oral sex, dirty talk, praise kink (if you squint), different positions, slight sub space, fluff

Word count: 2.1k

Feedback is always welcome and reblogs help a great deal! Enjoy!

•••

Rain is pattering along the windows, the hush of wind matching your uneven breathing as Ashton’s lips trace over your skin. He started at the peak of your forehead, tracing the contours of your face then hovered over your lips. He paused there waiting for you to touch his lips with your own but it’s fleeting because he trekked a detour to your jaw.

While his lips were claiming your neck, his left hand scoped the plains over your hip and waist, each stroke of his fingers created speed bumps over your skin and a shiver through your body. He took his time circling his tongue over your nipple while his hand cupped the other breast massaging it.

“Ash,” you squeak when his teeth tug on your risen bud.

“Be patient, angel,” his breath is hot between the valley of your breasts and he continues down. He uses both hands to grip your breasts, nipples caught between the valley of his fingers and his tongue drags down your stomach. “I want you to feel it all.”

He peppers kisses over your lower stomach, you feel your heart pounding against his palm.

“Relax, baby,” he sighs curving his head to kiss your hips. “I’ll take care of you.”

You moan in response when he kisses between your legs and they fall open like a book. His hands are still squeezing your breasts, his teeth nip at the flesh of your thighs and you run your nails over the backs of his hands, wrists, and forearms. If he’s touching all of you, you want to be touching as much of him as you can as well.

“That’s it,” a kiss to your pubic bone, “just feel.”

His tongue slips through your folds easily and the sensation causes you to clutch at his hair and you’re gasping from the quick strokes and licks of his tongue. Ashton brings his hands down your body, one taking hold of your hand in a tight grip while the other grips the conjecture between your thigh.

“I know you’ve been stressed, baby,” he mumbles and flicks his tongue over your clit. Your legs jerk, you pull on his hair. “Long days at work…”

You arch your back when he inserts a finger, pumping in and out, in and out. Thunder rumbles outside but you’re more aware of how tight you’re holding his hand and the languid way his tongue moves over you, in you. He makes it flutter like a butterfly as he inserts another finger, each flutter clipping your clit at the right interval.

“Yes!” you squeak, sensations rolling over you like the rain down the windows.

Ashton pumps his fingers rhythmically and you peek through your eyelids to see the muscles in his shoulders flex and tighten. The sound of his fingers and mouth working you over bring you to the cusp of an orgasm, you feel it coming and arch your hips to meet his motions. He hums as if he knows–because of course he does he knows your body better than anyone else ever has–and moves his face up and down with the motion of your pelvis.

Your heart is pounding for a different reason, gasps and moans mingling together. Ashton’s moaning with you, encouraging you to let go and give into the sweet release. You feel it building, and building, like an intense crescendo of a song.

“Give it to me, come for me.”

And you do. You cry out in pleasure as you feel it wash over you, from the top of your head all the way to the tips of your toes. Your body freezes in motion, that sweet release coursing through your veins and chasing after Ashton’s fingers and tongue. Your legs wrapped around him, ankles taut until the sweet release has concluded and you feel the pounding of your heart in your ears.

Your body is hot.

Your body is buzzing.

Ashton suckles at your sweetness until your body goes lax against the bed and you can hear the rain again. Your lips turn up in a blissful smile, neck rolling to the side as you watch him kiss his way back up your body. His eyes meet yours and his fingers are the last to leave you and you’re left empty yet full at the same time.

You feel the sticky drag of his fingers up your stomach, coated in your orgasm, shivering as he circles your nipple then stops at the entrance of your lips. His hazel eyes gaze adoringly at you and he jerks his head the slightest bit. You open your mouth and his fingers glide inside, you suckle on them.

You stare at each other unblinkingly and you slither your hand down his waist, over his hip, onto his stomach until you’re stroking his cock. He’s velvety soft and incredibly hard in your hand, his hips thrust into your strokes.

Your palm catches on his veins as you tug him ever so slightly to your entrance, his head bumping you.

“Love how wet you get for me,” he says removing his fingers from your mouth. “Can always slip right…” he presses into you so the head of his cock spreads you open but he pulls back again, “in.”

He’s teasing you and you pout at him.

“Please, Ash,” you run your thumb over his tip, lifting your hips in tandem to try and pull him inside you. “Want you to fill me up.”

“Yeah?” he strokes the hair on the side of your head. His body dips onto yours and you welcome the weight of him, both in your hand and on top of you. “You do take me so well, angel. Such a good girl for me.”

“Come on, please,” you move your hips and the hand holding his cock and he’s almost inside you.

Before you could blink or gasp at the swiftness of his motions, he somehow has your hands above your head held tightly between his hands. You stare at him in shock but when he smiles, you smile back.

“Good girls don’t talk back,” he shakes his head and you roll your eyes causing him to rub his head between your folds. “Or roll their eyes.”

“Wanna feel you,” you sigh trying to move your arms but his grip is tight. He knows you like it and you feel your arousal leak out of you.

“Dirty girl,” he smirks dragging his dick against you once more. “Making a mess for me, huh?” he adjusts his hand so he’s holding your wrists with just one as he uses the other to hook around his hip. “Do you want it slow or fast?” he presses his tip into you more and you’re clenching at the loss when he pulls out.

“Hard,” you whisper.

You catch a ghost of his smile before his lips are on yours and he plunges into you. You cry into his mouth from the immediate satisfaction of him filling you up. Ashton wastes no time by fucking into you hard and fast, the bed already jerking against the wall. Your bodies become flush, hot and sweaty with each drag and pull.

You meet his hips perfectly, skin slapping skin and his hand hot on your thigh to keep your leg in place. Your kiss becomes sloppy, heated, and dirty and you’re aching to drag your nails down his back but your hands are caught. The restraint makes it hotter and you’re arching into him again, needing to be closer.

“How’s that baby?” he pants when your kiss breaks. His fingers on your thighs are probably leaving bruises but you want more of him. His hips roll and rock, his cock gliding along your walls deliciously.

“S-so good…” you pant, his eyes glance down at your breasts as they bounce with your movements. “Harder, baby…please.”

Ashton growls and releases your wrists so he can push your legs up, your knees against your chest. He fucks into you relentlessly and with no mercy, giving you exactly what you want until your eyes roll back, mouth open in a silent moan as you’re filled with ecstasy. The quick drag of his cock in and out of you has you seeing stars and you clench your hands behind his neck, your foreheads touching.

“Want me deeper?” he gasps, his hair is wet from sweat hanging over his forehead. You nod quickly, licking at your dried lips. He pulls out of you and you cry out at the loss. “Turn over, angel.”

He helps you with careful hands because your body is buzzing and you felt your orgasm creeping in. You’re on your stomach, cheek pressed into his pillow and Ashton drags your hips up to his pelvis. He taps the inside of your thighs so you spread your legs, his fingers slip between your folds.

“Ready baby?” he asks.

You crane your neck so you meet his eyes, but you take him in before you answer. His chest is glistening with sweat, his hair curled and tuggable, arms big and strong.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

He smiles back, grips his cock and glides inside of you easily. You both groan at the sensation of being connected once more and Ashton starts a slow rock. In…out…in…out until he moves faster. The new angle has him going deeper and this is one of your favorite positions because of that reason. Your eyes close at the familiar bliss, a soft laugh echoes against the pillow.

Your head feels lighter as your orgasm trickles in quickly, his cock sliding and gliding at the perfect precision. Ashton’s breathing evenly, making sure to keep his tempo and his own orgasm at bay.

“Come for me, baby, c’mon…I can feel it,” he grunts pushing in further. And he hits that sweet spot.

“There! Oh, right there, right there,” you sing and he complies easily.

You hold onto his sheets, bracing your body so it stays still so he can keep fucking you in the right place. Your ears start to ring, your stomach rolls and you’re coming again. And it keeps going and going and going until–

“Oh, fuck,” Ashton groans and snaps his hips even faster until he’s pulling out and you feel his hot cum spurt and rope onto your back.

Your pussy is clenching at nothing, your body still chasing an orgasm that lingers with him. The pillow is wet from your mouth, your brow sweaty from the euphoric sex. Ashton’s noises are music to your ears as he jerks the last of his release onto you.

After a moment, you gather the rest of the sounds around you; the ticking of the clock on the wall, the constant crash of rain on the window and the quiet hum of the radiator. You feel Ashton shift towards the nightstand then feel him dab at your back with a wad of tissues and then the cool swipe of the baby wipe to really clean you off. He stamps a kiss on your lower back then falls next to you, his hazel eyes gazing into yours.

“Hi,” he whispers nudging your nose with his.

“Hi,” you breathe slipping your legs down so you’re flat on your belly. Your head is swimming, your body is heavy, you’re totally blissed out in the best way. You somehow inch your way closer to him and Ashton takes you into his arms, your legs intertwining.

“How do you feel?” he asks kissing your forehead.

“I feel…loved,” you swallow and caress his cheekbone.

“Good. Want you to feel my love, always.”

“How do you feel?” you poke his nose for emphasis.

“Complete.”

“Ohh, you make me complete,” you sing, “you make a complete mess–”

He covers your mouth with his hand and you’re giggling into his palm and he’s chuckling with you. You know he doesn’t like hearing his songs play during sexy times because it always gets him thinking about the production behind it thus losing the allure of the sexual moment at hand.

“You know I had to, the opportunity was right there,” you defend when he removes his hand.

“I know,” he rolls his eyes affectionately. His arm snakes around your waist, your bodies still sticky but it feels nice. “I didn’t really comprehend the ‘caught up in heaven’ until right now. Because–”

“No, don’t say it,” you shake your head.

“Because you’re my angel,” he smiles and you groan at his pun but love that you can be goofy together.

“You’re ridiculous,” you snicker pinching his hip. “But that’s why I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

You continue kissing and caressing each other’s bodies as the rainstorm continues on outside and soon the kisses turn deeper and more sensual. Then you’re rolling on top of him, pinning his wrists to his sides with a grin.

“My turn.”

Taglist: @calumance @in-superbloom @calpalirwin @karajaynetoday @wiiildflowerrr @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower @mymindwide @itjustkindahappenedreally @seanna313 @mulletcal @pandaxnienke @celestialams @in-a-world-of-fandoms @blairscott @writersdare

#ashton smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton oneshot #ashton irwin writing #Ashton 5sos #ashton fluff #ashton irwin 5sos writing

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causeyoudontgotoparties · 5 months

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Focus

Rating: mature

Pairing: poly!cake x female reader

Warnings: oral (fem receiving), subspace?, aftercare

___

You didn’t know how you got here. Back against Luke’s bare chest, thighs propped up on his, completely naked against him.

Whimpers and pleas spilling out of your mouth as Calum buried his head between your legs. Vigorously flicking his tongue at your sensitive bud as Luke’s hands rested on your tits.

Your fallen head against Luke’s shoulder, face in the crook of his neck desperately trying to keep your whimpers quiet.

You felt Luke’s hand grip your jaw, making you look forward.

“Focus, lovie.” He said, referring to the movie he had playing on the screen ahead of you. Calums assault on your clit had not slowed down, eating you out like a starved man.

“Please i-i can’t, p-please let me cum.” You stuttered, feeling yourself closer to your orgasm.

Calum slightly pulled away from your cunt, “I dunno sweetheart, don’t think you deserve it.” He fake pouted.

“Do you think she deserves to cum Luke?” Calum said, looking at the blue eyed boy.

You looked up at look him with teary doe eyes and pouted lips, hoping he would cave and let you have your release.

Luke looked down at you, mocking your pout, “ I don’t think so lovie.”

“b-but I was good .” You whimpered as calum buried his head in between your thighs again.

Luke roughly grips your chin, “don’t be a brat, you’ll get to cum when we’re ready to let you.”

“Now focus baby.” He said, turning your head to the screen in front of you once again.

Your head lolled side to side, your bottom lip between your teeth as you felt your release quickly approaching, legs shaking with anticipation.

“Okay lovie, you can cum, show calum how much of a good girl you are.” He said into your ear.

Calum slowly slipped a thick finger into your heat, thrusting at a quick pace paired with his mouth, while Luke’s fingers carefully tweaked with your nipples.

Your thighs began to shake with pleasure, soft whimpers spilling out of your mouth once again.

Calum pushed a second finger into you, thrusting at a pace you didn’t even think was possible, his tongue still vigorously attacking your clit. You could’ve swore you stars.

Your moans grew louder as you felt a gush of pleasure between your legs. Your body convulsed as Calum pulled away slightly to press soothing kisses on your thighs while you slumped against luke as he played with your hair.

“Did so good sweet girl.” Calum said kissing up your body, reaching your face and pecking your lips. “So proud of you.”

Your mind still fuzzy as you tried to find your surroundings again. Trying to sit up ever so slightly to regain your conscious.

“Woah, easy there baby, you’re still up in the clouds, yeah? How ‘bout we get you a bath and relax.” Luke said in your ear as he lifted you up and carried you to the bath.

Before you knew it, you were in the tub and both boys were dressed and sitting at the side of the tub, helping clean you up.

Why is everything moving so fast?

“You did so good lovie, my best girl.” Luke cooed, as he washed your body. Cal carefully combing his fingers through your hair.

Before you knew it, you were being lifted out of the tub and carried to the room. Cal had dressed you in an oversized t-shirt and panties.

You had opened your eyes to find yourself in between the both of them as you felt yourself coming back.

“H-hi” you stuttered as you looked between the two of them.

Luke took your face into his hands, “hi sweetheart, you went all floaty on us, cal make you feel that good?” He teased.

You buried your head into the pillow to hide your blushing from the both of them.

Cal wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, “no need to be embarrassed princess, I find it flattering.” He rasped into your ear.

The both of them whispering sweet little nothings to you until you drifted off to sleep with your two favorite boys.

#5 seconds of summer smut #luke hemmings smut #5sos fluff #calum hood imagine #calum hood smut #luke hemmings imagine #poly!cake #poly!5sos #5 seconds of summer oneshot #5 seconds of summer imagine #calum hood oneshot #luke hemmings oneshot

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orangeinecstasy · 9 months

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ʚ masterlist ɞ

requests: open

✦ : inhaler

robert keating

one word: part one, part two

the strokes

halloween party

ryan mcmahon

cup of music: part one, part two

about you

ryan bf thoughts

elijah hewson

pool party: part one, part two

creative writing

josh jenkinson

film fest

✦ : 5 Seconds of Summer

luke hemming

relax nsfw

luke bf thoughts nsfw section

pretty boy

calum hood

bf calum thoughts, part two: nsfw

cherry cola: part one. part two. part three. part four. part five. part six. final. (Hiatus)

ashton irwin

bf ashton thoughts nsfw section

micheal clifford

coming soon

✦ : the 1975

matty healy

bf thoughts nsfw section

blurb; domestic matty

ross macdonald

bf thoughts nsfw section

george daniel

coming soon

adam hann

coming soon

#inhaler dublin x reader #inhaler dublin #inhaler band #inhaler #oc #oneshot #imagine #inhaler oneshot #5sos #5 seconds of summer #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #inhaler x reader #5sos x reader #the 1975 x reader

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afatallovesong · 2 years

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Can you do a Luke smut where he is a jerk to Y/N & she doesn’t understand why until his friend spills he likes/loves her & is just a jealous prick. so y/n takes matters into her own hands & teases him until he admits it & they fuck

Okay so I basically read this and thought I did it as you wished but uhhhh in true 'me' fashion, I did my own damn thing...

I do hope you enjoy it though, there's a lot to work with!

In the Backseat

A Luke Hemmings one shot

18+, Smut, NSFW

Word Count: 10,157

He never meant to hurt you. I suppose no one ever means to hurt anyone. It just sort of happens and then they’re left to either pick up the pieces or hide away in shame or God forbid show no remorse at all. He felt guilt. He felt a tremendous amount of guilt actually. That was a good sign, maybe not for you but for him, definitely. He wasn’t a lost cause. He could rectify it or hope to. You’d let him drive you home too. You can’t have completely hated him if you allowed that. You could have called an uber just as easily as you’d asked him to be the one to drive you. You looked on the verge of tears when you asked him, not ideal for him. He hadn’t enjoyed it, not like that.

You don’t sit beside him in the passenger seat like he expects. He glances to the empty seat beside himself as if he were still waiting on you to settle there. You don’t beg him to turn the radio down. You don’t say anything at all. He suspects you might cross your arms over your chest in some form of tantrum or way to signify how badly he’d fucked up and that you were pissed at him because he knew in his head and heart that you were. You can’t even find it in yourself to do that. Your hands are lay flat against your thighs, one on each, so still. You’d given him nothing. You just looked out of the window, feeling as if you were in some kind of movie, some sad film sequence, just watching the world fade away. You’d never looked so dejected before.

He finds it hard to focus on the road. He watches it more than he watches you, but he finds himself flickering over to you so fast his eyes start to hurt. At the next redlight he decided to dig his hand into the glovebox compartment, digging through takeout receipts and old CDs to fetch his glasses. He curses under his breath when he struggles to land on them immediately. He watches the lights, then you, then the lights again while he grabs them, anxiously rushing himself. He shuts the compartment, sliding the lenses over the bridge of his nose, notably on edge. He dared to glance your way again. He could now see your pain with 20/20 vision.

He feels he should say something. He could distract you. He could engage in small talk. You didn’t even have to answer, a glance in his direction would have been a win for him. He’s tapping the steering wheel. It’s as if his entire vocabulary had escaped him. His mouth had gone dry. He finds himself scratching at his chin, his short beard a pleasant feeling under his fingernails. He still darts eyes over to you as if you’d have gone somewhere in the seconds it took him to think.

The headlights of the car behind had given you this glow and upon noticing it he’d let out a deep and painful sigh. He hadn’t ever seen you look as beautiful as you did right then. Which is a shocking realisation for him when he’d always considered you breath-taking. He swears he could crash this car and go out in an eternal blaze, and it would have been worth it because the last thing he saw was you.

He saw you, like this, biting your lip to avoid speaking to him. Brushing your fingertips over your thighs, occasionally tugging your skirt down towards your knees. You with your legs growing cold even under your thick tights that you’d picked because you thought you’d get a chill. He saw you unable to look at him. Fighting internally (or so you thought) to avoid his gaze. You were such a sight to behold. As he neared your side of town, just a mere 10 minutes from your home, he found himself unable to take you there. He was left powerless to his deepest intentions. He diverted your journey.

You don’t think too much of it. There were so many routes he could take. He would take you there, you were sure of it. You didn’t show signs of stress, of anxiety, no more than you already had just being in this position. You just watched the buildings whiz by. The streetlights flickering here and there. Worst of all, the billboards reminding you of just why you’d been upset in the first place. You couldn’t look out of the window much longer.

You had a dumb fight. All fights were dumb but this one especially. You went to his stupid party, at his stupid friend’s house. You couldn’t have known. You still wouldn’t have known, even now, if it hadn’t been for someone else. You feel the tension knotting in your stomach as your mind wanders back to it. You wanted to cry so badly, to be able to feel anything at all without the intensity of his eyes catching you at any second because of course you noticed him. You couldn’t not notice him. He was all you were ever aware of, and you were so god damn hurt because he didn’t have the decency to share the same sentiment with you.

You sigh with frustration. You’ve had enough. “Let me out.” You say it sternly. “What?” He responds as the words are still leaving you. “Let. Me. Out.” He’s puzzled. He’s still driving, far enough away from your house that you wouldn’t dare walk from here, not at this hour. “Are you kidding me? No, I’m not stopping.” He watches the road intently for the first time since you left the driveway of his friend’s house. “Luke, let me out of this fucking car.” Your tone is calm, and your heart is anything but.

He wants to fight you on it. He doesn’t want to lose you. He might lose you if he doesn’t stop. There was also a heavy possibility that he would lose you even if he did. “Then what?” He asks. You look to him in the mirror, your lips are parted, nothing coming out. “No plan? No way of getting home?” He’s trying to gesture with his hands while they remain on the wheel. “Not letting you out then.” He thinks he has you defeated. He’s not even close.

“I’ll call a taxi.” He scoffs. “Yeah? Why didn’t you do that about 20 minutes ago?” He’s shocked he’s managed to argue with you. Just minutes ago, his heart was aching, and he was terrified he’d upset you and now he was arguing. It was fight or flight and you were important enough for him to pick the former. He’d regret it another time, he’s sure. “Because I didn’t think of it then.” You exasperate, flinging your arms out. “Just let me out Luke.” You stare right into his eyes; you have a cold and serious glare. He pulls over begrudgingly, but he doesn’t unlock the car.

You know not to bother with the handle, he’d already thought of that. Considering he was such an airhead on a day to day, he seemed to be carrying himself pretty well tonight. He was just hellbent on destroying your happiness. Maybe he should progress that as a career on top of lying to you. That would go down a real treat.

“Talk to me.” He pleads. It was worth a try. “No.” He rolls his eyes, fingers running along the leather of the steering wheel before returning to the top, gripping it tightly. “Just yell at me already, do whatever you have to.” He slumps back in his seat, head hitting the rest behind it with a thud. It had to hurt. Good, you thought.

“You could have fucking told me.” You surprised yourself but not him. He knew you’d kept tight lipped for too long and now the second you were given real opportunity you were going to come for him with all you had. “You know who told me?” He doesn’t respond. It wasn’t necessarily rhetorical, but you knew he knew and there was no point in adding more fuel to the fire in confirming it. “Jordan. Not you, not Ash, not Cal not even blabbermouth Michael, fucking Jordan!” Your hands slam down against the seat so hard it made your palms sting. He winced as you did it. Even if he didn’t see it. He heard it. He’d kiss your delicate skin better if he wouldn’t get slapped for even trying to.

“I was going to tell you.” He was. He really was, he just didn’t know when, hadn’t found the words. A pathetic excuse, he was well aware. “What? When you were already halfway across the globe? You’re leaving in 2 weeks Luke.” You sounded so wounded, and you recognised it, and you hated it. He couldn’t have felt more stupid if he’d tried. “I just don’t understand.” He dared to look at you in the mirror. You were appeared just as crushed as you sounded and to make matters worse, you were looking right at him. You weren’t glancing into the mirror like a coward. You weren’t like him. You were looking directly at his poorly positioned, lanky body sinking into the leather seating of his car.

“Did you just think I’d see a billboard and be like yeah cool, amazing, so glad you’re touring again, congratulations.” He wants to speak but no words come out. There wasn’t a way to apologise for this, not when he’d fucked up so badly, not when he’d ruined everything. “I would have been happy for you Lu.” His heart was aching in a way he’d never felt before, come close to but never quite endured. The nickname had sent him over the cliff he was afraid he’d been back stepping onto. One more wrong move and he was done for.

“I’m coming back there.” Before you could protest, he was pulling the keys and burying them in his pocket. The best plan for him was none at all. The door was opening and closing, and he was slamming another behind him, sliding into the backseat. You stare ahead of you. Your heartbeat so loud you both heard it. He locked the doors again and you laughed. He’d actually disliked the sound for the first time in his life. “I’m not going anywhere. You made sure of that. I don’t even know where we are.” You run your fingers through your hair. He doesn’t look at you like he wants to. He looks forward. You’re both staring at the seats in front of you. You wished you were in complete darkness; it may make this easier to live through. Unfortunately for the both of you, you were parked conveniently next to a streetlight.

“I couldn’t find the words.” He says, he wanted to be as transparent as he could. “I wanted to find them, I couldn’t. Like every time I tried to tell you, they just got jumbled up like some kind of word vomit or something.” He pulls a disgusted face as he says the word ‘vomit,’ he’d never liked that word. “You’re a lyricist. I find that hard to believe.” You cross your arms over your chest. A weak argument. “You don’t have to be so hard on me.” He’s right, you don’t, and you might feel a shed of remorse for it, but you wouldn’t drop it. “I’ve been beating myself up all night you know.”

You allow yourself to look at him. His stomach twists when your eyes land on him. His body is flooded with a warmth he could only compare to the sun. A blistering but comforting heat that reminded him of where he came from, where he was most at home. “I didn’t actually want to face the fact that I was leaving.” He starts to fiddle with the tear in his jeans. He wasn’t sure where the rip came from, he’d grown out of intentionally ripped jeans long ago, but the threads were tactile and useful to him now, soothing him as he worked through his emotions. Since he had no choice but to do so.

“It’s what you do.” Your voice is so soft, he wants to lean in and let you surround him with it. “But I haven’t done it, not for 2 years.” He laughs nervously. He’s not sure how the conversation morphs into his anxieties for the future but here he was. “Hell, I barely remember how I did it before.” He’s running his fingers through his bleached blonde curls and you’re biting your bottom lip at the thought of replacing them with your own. Hard to stay mad when you lose your focus at the sight of anything he does. “You really are scared.” He would feel relaxed at your compassion returning but he doesn’t know how long it will last. “Terrified more like.” He reaches forward to prod the headrest before him. There’s no reason for it other than impulse and he tended to act on those a lot.

“I could have helped.” He sighs, sinking into his seat, he’d connected those dots already. “I know.” You don’t push it, sitting quietly, maybe even patiently. “I know and that’s why I’m so stupid.” You’d never correct him there. “You’d have supported me no matter what because you’re a good fucking friend and I’m just a coward who doesn’t deserve it.” You roll your eyes as he hits his head repeatedly off the back of his seat. “Cut the pity party.” He gulps. He almost gives into temptation, glancing to the right of him as you command his silence. He settles for leaning his head back instead.

He couldn’t have looked more inviting if he tried. His neck outstretched like that. His adam’s apple prominently bobbing as he took a breath and gulp of air. The way he wet his bottom lip with the nerves he felt. The damn near sheer shirt he coated his top half with. When did he start dressing sluttier than you? You wanted to bite his neck, you wanted to forget all of this and wrap your lips around his jugular and never let go. You’re not even sure what you were fighting for anymore. “Sorry.” Even if you knew it wasn’t meant as his formal apology, you had known that he meant it. He would never not be sorry for this. You were the last person he wanted to hurt.

“I am a good friend.” You say. He would laugh if he could. He doubts he’d ever feel joy again until you forgave him. He was still picking away at his jeans, cursing his chipped nail polish at the same time. “I am happy for you.” You were, somewhere in the pits of your soul you were, somewhere very far and unobtainable at this moment in time but it was there. “I miss you already.” He says in a low whisper and that’s enough to crack your hard exterior just like the rasp in his voice had. “You what?” You hadn’t heard him right. You couldn’t have. His voice was too husky to be understood, you’d bet money on it. “I-“

He turns his body around, knees trying to face you, as much as they could in the cramped space he’d forced himself into. You didn’t look at him. He was starting to take it personally. “Would you just look at me?” Its making it much harder for him to grovel without your eyes giving him a chance. He wants to reach out and touch the hand you left on your thigh, but he thinks better of it, couldn’t step in too soon. “I can’t,” you mutter, you’re avoiding his gaze even more now that he’d asked for it. You were just trying to make sense of it all. You’re acting ridiculous and you’re acutely aware of it but you’re processing. “Can’t or won’t?” Where had he robbed these few braincells from? You didn’t like it; he wasn’t supposed to be this perceptive, that was never his game. “Both.” You grunt.

“Can’t keep doing this.” He says. You’re not sure what exactly he’s referring to, but you feel him burning the words into the side of your face like he’s branding you with a hot iron. “Doing what?” You’re suddenly breathless and this tiny car had felt a whole lot smaller, closing in on you. You had to fan yourself with your hand to satiate the heat. The more you focused the more you noticed how his long legs had barely fit a gap between the two of you, it was only a matter of time before you were crushed together.

“I don’t know- I don’t want to say it.” He bites back the words he so keenly wishes to utter. “You don’t or wont?” You turn his words back on him without so much as a second glance. Your pulse rockets as you do. “Both.” He says, his body is shifting still. He’s moving closer. Not quite beside you but getting there. It wouldn’t be long. He doesn’t want to cross your boundaries; he’s had better ideas than to mess with them, but they were just there. The temptation was overwhelming. He starts to slip back where he was, his knees digging into the back of the driver’s seat thinking better of it. He was a coward, and he didn’t need to look at you to know you thought it too. He’d returned to his original position and your heart ached at the distance.

Even when he was on a different continent, he’d never felt further from you than he did in this moment. What’s worse was that you saw him retreating, not just physically but mentally. He was sat debating whether to leave you not just on tour but for good. When his nails dug into his own thighs, his breathing deepening into exhausted sighs. The wheels were turning with no signs of breaking. He’d gone from suffocatingly close to a million miles away and he hadn’t even moved. It’s just what it felt like when he closed himself off like that. You didn’t like it. He didn’t have to. You were scared he felt he needed to. You were mad, you were so mad, but not even because you of what he did anymore, but because of what he wouldn’t do, what he continued not to do. There wasn’t enough honesty between you. You needed some truth. You may have to force it from him, but it was far less unsettling to picture than the thought of him leaving without the air cleared between you.

So, you did the unthinkable. You clambered onto his lap in a way you never had before; sober or otherwise. Your legs fastened on either side of his thighs. Your head bumps the ceiling briefly, not enough to knock you off track but enough to hurt. You’re well aware of the clumsiness of your actions and the inelegance of jumping someone’s bones. Not to mention the wardrobe malfunctions that ensue. Your skintight skirt flipping up, essentially exposing your underwear in the process. Even hidden under dark tights the risk of him seeing them made a hot flush creep across your stomach.

You had made it now. You sat in his lap, and you made him see you, you begged him to see you and he saw you all right. His mind raced. He didn’t know where to look or what to say. He was going a million miles a minute. The possibilities, he was lost in them, what could have been, the what ifs and even the why on earths. His trousers were already tightening. Just another thing to worry about. If he hadn’t upset you enough before, an inappropriately timed boner might as well do the trick.

You wonder where to put your hands. The internal battle chipping away at you piece by piece. You’re hovering over his lap, too petrified to sit your full weight on top of him even if it pained you not to. If you didn’t clutch some support you’d be aching for days. It was as if he saw a thought bubble appear above your head. He wearily placed his hands on your legs to push you down and make you sit. His eyes were transfixed on his hands. He’d moved them with no communication to the rest of his body. He’d not spent a second thinking about touching you and yet, he had.

He shouldn’t have looked down at his hands. He had the thought now, the regret in his choice of actions, the placement of them. He knew how your skirt had betrayed you, lifting to show him more of you than he’d ever dreamed of. He knew that if he just looked even a millimetre to the side, he’d see the cotton of your underwear concealing you away from him beneath your tights. He felt every bone in his body screaming at him to move, he wasn’t quite sure which direction yelled louder. To look or not to look? He wanted to look. He’d ruined himself.

You took this opportunity to look at him. You analysed his expression while he avoided your gaze. How had you been so stupid? To be blind to him. You watched his every move and waited on his every word with bated breath and yet you just hadn’t seen it. You hadn’t seen how hard he fought with himself every day. How he’d never really looked you in the eyes before because there was such a deep secret locked away inside of them. It was almost like this was your first time seeing him properly. You’d never seen him so clearly in fact. His little freckles dotted around his nose. The glitter shimmering across his eyelids, he shone like some kind of fairy. It wasn’t the worst way to describe him. He was quite ethereal. A bone structure a model would die for. Sweet blue eyes so clear you felt cleansed just being seen by them. His smile lines sinking into the corners of his mouth. There was something kind of magic about the way he looked in the dim light and it drew you in enough to leave not even a little bit of space between you.

You kissed him. You leaned in quickly, too quickly to catch yourself, not sure if you even would have wanted to. It was too late to prevent it now anyway. The wheels were fully in motion and like a freight train, there was no stopping you. Your lips had reached his and you had felt your body surging to life.

He can’t move. He can’t breathe. He can’t- well he doesn’t know what he can’t do, he just can’t do it. You’re kissing him. You’re sat on his lap; his hands are on your thighs and- his hands are on your thighs. He needs to move his hands. He lifts them and he’s thanking God inside his head for giving him the strength to do it even if it pained him to leave the safe space they’d been left to rest in. You’re panicking. He’s not kissing you back, he’s not doing a damn thing. He moved his hands away and you expect them to push you back at any moment, but that moment never arrives. He needed to kiss you back. Your lips felt so nice, so soft, supple, and shit- he needs to kiss you back!

His body is on autopilot, kicking into gear. It was better than nothing. It was way better than nothing. He instinctively leans forward; you’re so scared to fall backwards that your hands are gripping onto his shoulders for dear life. Maybe it’s to secure the kiss, maybe it’s because you need him closer, either way you’re elated, you’re not the only one involved any longer. He’s still leaning, he’s pushing forward, your back is pushed into the seat behind, his hands are floating around to your back and then-. They land. They’re overlapping each other near the base of your spine and tugging you inwards away from the seat. He’s pulling you in close, into his atmosphere. His car was becoming suffocatingly tiny, and you hadn’t even minded it anymore because you weren’t trapped alone, you were trapped with him, him, him. The air was thick with fear and lust, but it was invigorating. It smelt like him. It felt like him. Fuck it was him, all him.

“Oh God Luke why haven’t we kissed before?” You’re gasping for a breath between kisses, and you can’t help yourself. You take the words right out of his mouth. You can’t stay away. You kiss him so much he can’t get a word in. It was almost as if you’d only just discovered it. You’d experienced the pleasure of kissing for the very first time and you needed all the practice you could get before it’s taken away from you again. He’s just as invested as you are. Your lips are so sweet he wants the taste imbedded into his brain and he suspects it would be from here on out. Your scent, your taste, he’s not the best at describing things but you remind him of the air after rain. Fresh and earthy. Floral and saccharine, a conforming aroma he wanted to bottle and keep to himself forever.

He’s not breathing anymore. He’s not taken a single breath out of fear the oxygen would somehow wake him from this dream he had to be having. But you’re pulling away because he hasn’t said anything and it’s starting to dawn on you just what you’d done. You think you’re going crazy. He kissed you back, sure, but that didn’t mean anything, he took his time, it wasn’t instant. It wasn’t confirmation. It didn’t mean he meant to. He just did what anyone would do, act on impulse. You think you’re shaking with fear. You meet his eyes with nothing but anxiety in your heart. You’d kissed him like you meant it. Did he?

His glasses are so foggy you can’t even see his eyes anymore. It was undecided if that was an advantage or not. On the one hand you wouldn’t see the shock or horror. On the other, you couldn’t see if he felt the opposite. If he looked at you like you were the piece he’d been missing all these years. You don’t even know if he’s looking at you or not. He’s facing you but is he seeing you?

His hands slip from around you and you hold back the whimper of disappointment. You needed to keep your expectations to a minimum. His hands tug his glasses away from his face before he looks down, attempting to clean them with the bottom of his shirt. You bite your lip so hard you fear it may burst at the slight exposure of his happy trail beneath. Sure, you could faintly see it through the mesh but seeing it bare was something that had you fighting for your life and begging your legs not to squeeze together. You heard nothing but the pounding of hearts and the occasional car whizzing by on the quiet road as you processed the previous events.

“Lu.” His eyes lift to meet yours and they’re filled with a kindness that is so compelling you might just make it out of here alive. He notices that your pupils are dilated to an extent that he could have mistaken them for black. He’d never seen you like that before. Your cheeks, they’re so round, darkened with a blush. Your lips, so beautifully shaped, swollen from his own. Your cupid’s bow so prominent and alluring, you were so naturally pretty, he’d always known it but seeing it this close, breath-taking. He can’t believe he’s never been this close to you before. That was a crying shame. A monumental mistake on his part. Even if he wouldn’t have been able to control himself. He would certainly have remembered it though, memorised every feature of your face like the lyrics to a song he must sing and be happy to for the rest of his days on this earth with you.

He sets his glasses in your lap and your stomach flutters as you feel the weight of them. They weren’t heavy in the slightest but the sensation, the reminder of just where you were situated. You were still in his lap, still in his orbit. It was dizzying. “You look really pretty.” You let slip, one glance into his eyes and your mouth ran without thought. His lips turn up in one corner. “You think I’m pretty?” He’s laughing at it but it’s the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. Deep down, it’s probably the nicest compliment you could have given him. You thought he was pretty and even better than that, you liked that he was pretty. “With glasses,” you gesture to your lap. “Even prettier.” It takes an incredible strength not to let it be known that he loved hearing you say that.

You try something different. You have only one chance at this. You owed it to yourself to explore the unanswered questions you’d been stacking up in your brain for the entirety of your friendship. One’s you hadn’t dared to speak into existence and thought better of verbalising even now. Instead, you answer with a touch. You place your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and while you fumble to grip them in a light tug, your nails graze his scalp. He whimpers beneath you elegantly before snapping his mouth shut, a flush of red blotting his cheeks as a result. Fuck. He’d always had the prettiest voice, but you weren’t even remotely aware that it was melodical even in this situation. “Did you just-“he wants to hide, he wants his hands to cover his face and he goes to fulfil that want, but you stop him.

He's looking at you and he hasn’t felt this vulnerable in a long time. You didn’t have many secrets. You knew almost everything about each other but this. Knowing his kiss, knowing his sounds. This was an unexplored territory. Continuing forward at this trajectory could have the most fatal consequences for the two of you and your ongoing relations. You’re so painfully aware of that but you still tug his hair back hard in efforts to hear him again. “Fuck.” He gasps, his pink lips slotting open not even trying to save himself the embarrassment, he was already exposed, may as well accept it.

You had to kiss him again, had to kiss him and pull his hair and feel his little bitch boy whimpers on your lips or you may die. You throw yourself at him with nothing more to lose. His hands wrap around you so tightly you knew he’d struggle to let you go and there wasn’t a chance in hell that you’d ever allow him to if he tried. You tug on his blonde curls, and you kiss him and he’s grunting into your mouth like a desperate slut. His tongue slides inside your mouth, granting itself permission. You weren’t the only one wanting to take charge and the idea of fighting for it turned you on more than it should have. His one hand leaves your waist to cup your cheek while he pushes his face right into yours. His precious little nose digging into your cheek as his mouth is enjoying you, savouring you.

‘You’ by definition as declared by Luke Hemmings.

pronoun

1. Used to refer to the person or people that the speaker is addressing.

"Are you listening?"

2. Used to refer to any person in general.

"After a while, you get used to it"

3. Used as a treat for him to devour, tasting better than any gourmet, expensive delicacy he’d ever had the pleasure of trying.

"He loves you; he loves your taste; he loves you"

Your kiss was replaying in his mind before it even ended. It was hung in a museum full of his greatest achievements. He’d be visiting the archive on numerous occasions just to relive this feeling, whether you developed from here or not didn’t even matter anymore he was in it 100% for as long as it lasts. “Luke, I think I love-“He stops dead in his tracks as your words fill the silence. His eyes are not nearly as panicked as they should have been, unlike yours. “I love kissing you,” you finish, your breath shaky as you catch yourself before confessing to something far too soon, even if you’d felt it with every fibre of your being since you met him.

“Yeah?” He’s so drunk on your lips he can’t possibly think straight let alone filter his words to have more caution in them. “Love kissing me or love me?” In the short pause he’s watching you expectantly. It’s not for you to confess your love. It’s not even for you to reject him. It’s just to hear your voice and know he’s not alone like he fears he might be. “Both.” You breathe out. The relief washed over you both like a tidal wave.

You can’t keep away any longer. You’d be damned if you let there be any more silence without it being a result of locking lips. “Have to have you.” He groans.” Your hands are sinking down between you. Your brain is foggy. There’s an unmistakably lusty cloud over your head. You felt as if you’d been hit by cupid’s arrow, infatuated to such an intensity that you were unable to process any information that wasn’t related to your love for the man beneath you. Whatever sick love spell it was, you were grateful for it. It had given you the courage to act on your true feelings and there was no way you were turning back now unless he asked it of you, and he swears he would never dream of such an outcome.

He wants to cry when your fingers brush his stomach. His tummy flips at the coolness of your fingertips delicately toying with the material resting above it. You lift it slowly, your hands deliberately feeling along his torso as the shirt rode higher. He wants to tear it off, he’d even burn it just to prove how little he needed it and how much he needed you instead. You bite on your lower lip at his eagerness to remove it. “Take it off.” You say. He’s way ahead of you. In a flash he’s throwing it to the front of the car. A problem for him to deal with at a later date.

Luke exposed in this way wasn’t something new to you. You’d seen him shirtless. You’d touched him shirtless. The only benefits of living in a ridiculously sunny state were the opportunities to lounge by the beach or the pool. To witness the tightened torso of your best friend with a pair of sunglasses shielding him from knowing just how much you were checking him out. You wondered if he’d ever done the same to you, but by the way he’s staring at your chest, it’s like he’s never seen it before.

Luke had wanted to. He’d thought about it so often, mostly at night alone in his room, but still he’d thought long and hard about the way your body looked in very little clothing. He remained as respectful as he could in your presence. He didn’t let his eyes wander too far from what’s socially acceptable between friends. But he had thought about this moment for what felt like an eternity. He could never have imagined the location or the dim light painting this portrait of your silhouette, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

He's getting braver. His hands are caressing your hips, pushing upwards to rub along your sides before returning back. “Luke, please.” He’s ignoring your need. He’s playing with you how he wants to when he wants to. He’s repeating his movements at a snail’s pace. You couldn’t rush him, not after making him wait for so long, he deserved to take his time. You’re not happy about it. You’re ready to rock over his lap and take what you need but he catches your hips. “No.” He says confidently, sternly too. Your eyes almost bulge out of your skull, a tantrum ready to slip from your tongue. “Wait for it.” As if you hadn’t been waiting for it every single day of your life. Fucking hell, he’s not even looking at you. It’s like you’re not even there anymore. His eyes are fixated on your chest and somehow that had increased the wetness between your legs more than you thought it would. If it were Luke objectifying you, you would make an exception. You just sank back onto his lap, running your fingers through his hair while he explored you, doing as you were told and praying he’d end your torture if you did. He never thought he’d see the day, you are being obedient.

It's worked out better than you’d imagined. His teasing touches, they’re working you up just enough to leave you wanting more. You worry your enjoyment can be felt through the fabric of your clothing. The more he touches, the more he gets to know you. He feels it, he just doesn’t show it. Somehow that made it even hotter for you. You were embarrassingly speechless for him, and he pretended he hadn’t caused it, couldn’t possibly have known. He wasn’t completely clueless. He wasn’t all shy. He knew what he was doing. There was such a power in shutting the pretty mouth of his best friend with simple caresses. “You seemed to have a lot to say before.” He’s now fondling your breasts, pinching hard over the fabric of your blouse, not even daring to touch beneath but you didn’t even need him to. The gasp that leaves your lips makes his cock twitch and you felt it. “Where’s all that energy gone?” He doesn’t even need to smirk; you hear it in his tone, even if you were deaf, you think you’d hear it.

This time he looks at you. He watches your expressions patiently with a glimmer of enjoyment as he pinches hard, trapping your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You gasp upon the sharpness of his touch. “Luke.” He had to smile, had to let it show how unbelievably thrilled he was to be doing this to you, to hear you sighing his name because it was real, and he was living out his fantasies. “Kiss me.” He says. You’re surprised he says it. You thought he’d have just taken it by now since you were clearly putty in his hands but instead, he’d instructed you and you had to do it and you were so eager.

You lean in to close the gap and he’s groping over your chest harder as you inch in. Your lips are parted, his tongue slipping in. The moan that escapes you sends his hips bucking upwards into you. There was some kind of a heaven between your thighs, he’s sure of it because the way it felt to just brush against your clothed cunt was already more than he could take. Every ounce of you was blissful to touch. “Oh my God.” You gasped. “No, that’s not my name.” He grumbles into your mouth. You want to roll your eyes with annoyance but they’re already rolling for a different reason. “When you touch me like that, what’s the fucking difference?” An excellent point, you think. He had to be some kind of deity.

He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, and you whimper. The bite is sharp, and it hurts but your lack of release is starting to hurt more. The build-up was fun, but not nearly enough. You had to take your shirt off, move this further. You start to unbutton it. You slip it down over your shoulders and he doesn’t help, no he just watches you. His blue eyes so dark like an ocean you could dive into. You feel a chill as your bra drops from your chest. You were equally exposed now. It suddenly felt so much more real. Seated in the backseat of his car, 2 weeks before he leaves for a tour you didn’t even know about 2 hours ago. Its sinking in, just how much this would hurt you from here on out.

“We can stop right now.” He pushes his forehead against yours. His lips hover above your own. Hot breath fanning over them. It’s not as soothing as it should have been. You’re breathing is more erratic now. His proximity, you need his lips, need his touch, no hesitation, no-. No. You need a pause. You feel as if you could cry, maybe you were crying. Things were catching up to you, hard. “It won’t be easy.” He tries to laugh. “But we can stop.” He pecks your lip. Letting his words sink in. “I don’t want to stop Luke.” He could smile, but it didn’t seem right to, not yet, not while your mind is still restless. “Everything changes from here on, doesn’t it?” Now he’s smiling at you; his hand reaches up to cup your cheek lifting your face in his hands. “What’s to change?”

You weren’t sure exactly what he meant; somehow you felt comforted by it anyway. You silently urged him to continue. “I’ve always been in love with you.” He rubbed his thumb softly over your jaw, your face started to feel heavy in his hands as you melted into his touch, at his words. His heart wasn’t on his sleeve, no, it was being handed to you, given with a stroke to your jaw, a glimmer in his eye and a softness of words on his tongue. “The only change is that you know it.” He’s grinning as he reveals his secret, finally able to clue you in on his little plans. You could have told him then and there, just how relieved you were to feel the same, you felt it could wait. As sweet as it was, you need something less precious, he had to finish what he started or so help him you’d vanquish him.

“Take my clothes off.” He’s way ahead of you once again. He lifts your skirt, and you feel the need to correct him, tell him it needs to come off the other way around, he’s already fiddling with your tights. He’d grabbed them, the material stretching over his hands and before you could raise a brow in suspicion at the oddness, he’s tearing them, splitting the crotch for access. You were lost for words, and he was the same. The only difference was that he was silently praising himself for his strength no to look sooner. Where he thought he’d find cotton, instead he found lace. You were wearing soaking wet, lace panties. “You’re fucking kidding me.” He can’t supress his moan at all. You think you may be engulfed in flames, the only explanation for the fire burning you up inside. He. Tore. Your. Clothes. Off. LITERALLY. How can anyone ever compete?

Butterflies are swarming in your stomach as his fingers don’t hesitate to rub over your core. You sigh at his touch, it’s not even near your clit but you feel like you might cum. “Have I always got you this wet?” He’s surprised. He’s impressed and proud too but mostly surprised. You could laugh at his outburst, if it wouldn’t reveal just how ridiculously on point he was. “More often than I’d like to acknowledge right now.” He decides he’ll put a pin in it for another occasion because he’s absolutely certain now, there will be more occasions.

Your fingers find his hair, tugging on his curls in hopes to bring him back to the task at hand, you. “Think you can hurry this up?” You’re trying to stay cool, but you’re anything but. You don’t want to beg for it, it felt so beneath you before this moment, but he needed to pick up the pace. His fingers rub over the wet material clinging to your cunt. “Would usually have to work for it.” He’s smiling against your lips uncontrollably. “Guess I don’t need to.” You want to wipe the smug look off his face. He’s looking at your lips right before crashing his own against them, distracting you from his hands slipping away beneath you.

He’s freeing himself from his jeans and you so desperately need to look but you can’t. You can’t pull away. You just kiss and kiss and he just- oh God, he’s dragging your hips over him. He’s rocking up into you, still separated by the restrictions of your underwear but you feel him. You know you asked for more, but this was really happening like right now. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Your hips start moving with the guidance of his hands. “Do something for me.” He breathes, tone too calm for your liking. His lips are trailing from yours, down to the column of your throat. “Anything.” You mean it, you truly mean it, he owns every piece of your soul. “Put me in.” You’re done for.

There’s no hesitation. You reach between you, hands blindly chasing after him. When you feel the hot, weight of him barely fitting in your hand, you want to whine. He’s so hard, burning up too. He’s hot to touch and it’s so unbearably arousing. He twitches at your slightest touch, and you’d be proud if you weren’t so needy. You work your hand over him, just gathering the beads of liquid already leaking from the tip to drag it back over him. He’s pushed his face right into your neck, kissing and nipping, his beard scratching your flesh as you bring him to you. It’s so nice to feel him humming along your throat. You are ruining him just as much as he did you.

Your breath hitches as you slide your underwear to the side. Your heart hammers as his tip brushes your entrance. Luke’s cock throbs as its sinking inside you. It’s barely inside and you feel so snug around him. He bites down hard on your neck as you take more but not nearly enough. You can’t think of anything but the fullness. You wonder if he’d fit inside you fully, scared he might not be able to go further, that you couldn’t possibly cater to his size but then he wiggles his hips, careful not to hurt you but he’s still forcing himself deeper inside.

You gasp out as you stretch for him, gripping the leather of the seat behind him. “So, fucking tight.” You were so wet he felt you dripping onto his thighs and yet you squeezed him so tight it was like you weren’t ready at all. “Is it too much?” It was so hard to speak when you held him like that, but something wasn’t right. He needed you to feel good. It wasn’t worth it otherwise, meant too much to fuck it up like this.

You’re nodding your head in response, entirely against your will. You’d failed him. You finally get to take it to the next level, and you can’t even take him. You were mortified. You were disappointed. You were devastated. You’re ready to give up, accept this as the mistake it must be, he doesn’t share the same sentiment. “Gonna try something different, okay?” He’s bringing your eyes to meet his. You’re so shocked. If it were anyone else, you’d have been discarded like dirty laundry. You’d be no fit for use. But Luke? Luke wasn’t giving up on you. He’d try a thousand times to get it right if that’s what it took to please you, to give himself to you the best way he could. You had never felt so loved in your life.

His cock can’t help but twitch when he sees your panic. “Trust me?” You nod profusely, it wasn’t necessary, but you were so close to losing it you couldn’t be stopped. “Think you can lie down for me?” You nod again. It takes all of your combined energy to pull away from each other. It feels like you’d lost a piece of yourself when you moved away. You’d collided and now been torn apart prematurely and the part of you that finally felt whole, was gone again.

You slipped off his lap, seating yourself back where you’d started. Luke’s shuffling around, removing his jeans completely before moving over, pulling your legs apart for him to slip between. You curse yourself once more for missing out on witnessing him naked for you, but your mind was racing with other information. He hadn’t warned you before his cock pushed past the threshold of your entrance. Instead, he eases himself in. Your cunt instinctively squeezing him at the intrusion.

“Oh, fuck.” He cried when he slid inside, his full length splitting you open. This angle was better, he’d fit, he’d not struggled and yet, you’d never felt so full in your life. He watches your expression, your eyes sealed shut, lips parted, cheeks burning. He watches you until you show any signs of regret or pleasure. He would stop immediately if you needed it. You just whimpered and moaned, and it was filth to his ears. His cock was so painfully hard he couldn’t hold back any longer. He did that to you; he didn’t even have to move either. He’d got you looking fucked out, crying for him and he’d barely started.

“Can I move?” He’s trying to keep his tone calm but he’s breathless. “Please baby, I gotta move.” His thighs are shaking. He’s gripping the seats like his life depended on it and it probably did. Your heart is warmed at the fact he’d asked. It shouldn’t feel anything of the sort with him so fucking deep inside you, ready to fuck you into oblivion but you did, he was so perfect. You nod your head, leaning up to capture his lips in a kiss. “Fuck me.” Please, please, please, you thought. “Give it to me.” He kisses you back, retracting his hips simultaneously before dipping back in. “So, fucking beautiful.” He mutters. “Fucking your best friend.” It felt so dirty hearing it from him like this. But that is exactly what you were doing. Your hands are reaching up around his waist, clawing into his back when he ruts deeper, the car starting to rock with each movement of his hips. “So deep in you.” You choke after a particularly harsh thrust. “So good.” You’re stuttering it. Hearing your broken panting is nearly enough to send him over the edge.

He didn’t rock his hips quickly this time, not wanting to overdo it, to break you so soon. Instead, he slows himself. He’s grinding his hips down into you with a precision you’d never known before. “All you can say?” He teased. “You’re lucky you feel so good.” You warn him. “If I could think straight, you’d be done for.” He nips at your shoulder before layering it with kisses. “Is that so?” You whimper when his body lowers over yours. His body is no longer held up above put pressed into you. The new position providing more stimulation than the last. The closeness had his pelvis rocking into your clit. The extra stimulation leaving your cunt clenching and tingling, bursting with pleasure.

“Fuck, feel you tightening.” He’s starting to speak but quickly losing his train of thought at your body’s natural response to him. He’s wincing like it hurts him when you squeeze. In reality he’s just holding onto his load by a thread, ready to bust at the seams. He didn’t think he’d be able to pull out if he did. You probably should have thought of that sooner. He couldn’t exactly ask now. He should though. “Need it.” Your sweet whining brings him back. “What?” He’s losing himself in your eyes. Dark, lust filled and reading him like a book. “Need you to cum inside.” He’s gripping the seats so tight the material is about to tear. Just when he’d worried he’d made a fatal error you swoop in and save him. You wanted him inside. He didn’t have to move, he wanted so badly to stay, and you let him as if you knew. You knew how fucking feral he’d go hearing it dripping from your lips like that, a sultry dream. He needed this, needs to cum, needs you to feel it, everything he’s got.

He picked up his pace, abandoning his previous rhythm. He was going to pound into you so hard you’d be begging him to be the only man in your life for eternity. He would give it to so good you never had to wonder where your loyalties may lie. You were going to be his and no one else’s if it killed him. No one could ever fuck you like he could. “Fuck, tell me you’re mine.” You feel startled by the request. Not because it’s out of the ordinary but because you thought he’d have to be mad not to know it already. Not when the request alone had you cumming around him the moment the words touched your ears. You felt it so hard, it was a wonder you hadn’t blacked out. Your walls a tightening mess, thighs wrapped around Luke’s waist so tight you couldn’t feel the shake in them, stabilised by his frame. Oh, you felt it in your core though. Holy shit, you’d not cum so hard for so long. He hadn’t even realised you’d done it at all. It felt so unreal that you’d even doubted it yourself. Finishing from a sentence, from fucking without the aid of touching yourself, simply unheard of. Maybe you really were his.

“I’m yours, all yours.” It had never been truer. His eyes close as he lets the words float around in his brain over and over. “Yeah? All mine? Belong to me?” You don’t think you could ever profess it enough. You instead move your hands, wrapping them around his neck, bringing his chest down into yours. You lift your head from the seat, your lips coming to his ear as he slows himself, meeting you halfway. You’re whispers send him right over the edge, tumbling towards his demise. He’s grunting, spilling inside you, hips slowly grinding before coming to a halt. He’s muttering sweet sentiments. “You’re so pretty. So good, fuck baby.” His head is spinning. He’s so blissed out he felt like he wasn’t even with you, he was on a whole other plain. You’d taken him to heaven, you’d actually killed him. What a pleasure it was to be killed by you. He was utterly destroyed.

He’s trying to hold himself up, arms on either side of your head. He’s not looking at you, more your bodies still entangled. He looked so conflicted. You try not to imagine the worst. He can’t regret you already. You’d only just ended. Usually, it took some time. He at least should drop you home before that kind of clarity kicks in. Your heart picks up speed again. A panic starting to drip a sweat over your brow. You don’t want this to end like that. “Stop that.” He places a singular kiss to the tip of your nose and the thoughts are erased. “I can practically hear your thoughts” He kisses you again so nonchalantly. “I’m just thinking about moving.” You try not to sigh so loud with relief, but you fail miserably and he’s laughing because it’s so effortlessly you. “Probably should have planned that better.” He’s scolding himself and his tone is light and airy, and you don’t feel so scared anymore. He was right before when he said nothing would change. The only difference was the physicality.

“Why couldn’t you be shorter? We could have lay here for a while.” He’s glad to hear your laughter returning even if it is at his expense. “In my defence, I’ve never done it in a car before, I’m sure there’s a way of doin it, I just don’t know it.” Your eyes widen. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He’s furrowing his brows above you. “I thought this was exactly the location 2018 Luke would be going for.” He gasps in offence. “Sorry to disappoint, it’s all beds for me.” You don’t believe him for a second. He’d had some messy eras. You reckon he just forgot them or tried his hardest to.

“Why have you?” You smirk. “Might have.” There’s that gasp again before a moment of confusion. “Wait, you don’t have a car.” He needs to investigate further. “Correct.” He’s thinking. “Matt didn’t have a car either.” Of course, only he would mention your only ex immediately after your first time together. Very on brand for him. “Did you fuck in my car?” You struggle to contain your laughter. “No! What the fuck?” You shove him. “Thank God, that would have been awkward.” You snort. “More awkward than this sorry excuse for pillow talk?” He pecks your nose for the last time before beaming an infectious smile down at you.

“Not to ruin the moment or anything but uh, will you drive me home now?” He’s suddenly reminded of the purpose of this entire event. He was apologising and giving you a lift. “That’s why we fucked then, just wanted that trip.” You nod along with him. “Mmhmm, didn’t bring my purse, gotta pay my way somehow.” He rolls his eyes. He’s amazed by you. You manage to make his heart pound and dick throb all from making jokes with him still buried inside you. “You fuck all your uber drivers?” You shrug the best you can beneath him. “Only the hot ones.”

It takes you both a little time to dress yourselves. The moment he pulls out you’re sighing and missing the feeling. He’s just as devastated to leave you empty, the sight of his finish leaking from you certainly made up for the fact though. You don’t miss your opportunity to check him out this time. His shoulders are so broad and so freckled. You’d never really noticed that before, always assumed he was pasty beneath those clothes. You were pleasantly surprised. He was a work of art in every manner of the word. “You’re so pretty, you know that?” He’s knelt in front of you stark naked and yet it’s your words that bring him to blushing. “You might have mentioned it.”

Once he’s dressed his bottom half, he moved to help you. He’d gathered as many items of clothing as he could, your shirt and your vest, your bra was certainly gone forever. You sit up straight, bottom half not moving for the risk of making a larger mess than you already had. You were thankful the seats were leather. You both ignore the elephant in the room, well vehicle, for as long as possible before eventually addressing it, looking to the pool of his cum on the seat. “How bout we get these off?” He tugs your shredded tights. “Can use them as a, um, temporary fix.” He cringed as he said it. It was a very sensible idea despite the uncomfortable subject. You work to remove them, cleaning the best you can. “Think you’ll sit in the front seat this time?” You ponder it. “I don’t know about that one.”

You find yourself in the passenger seat just minutes after he asked. Which surprises neither one of you. He’s sat shirtless beside you, even though he’d located his shirt. His glasses are once sitting pretty on the bridge of his nose. You can’t help but admire the marks you’d gifted him. You welcomed the eye candy with open arms. His hand reaches to rest on your bare thigh every now and then. Each touch a bolt of lightning to your senses. You were almost distracted enough not to notice he’d made another diversion. “Thought you were taking me home.” You stare at him like he’s crazy, maybe it was you who was the crazy one, too fucked out to see straight. You wouldn’t put it past yourself. “I am.” He didn’t seem phased by your inquiry. “This isn’t the route to my house babe.” You drop the babe in for sass, but he quite likes the sound of it anyway. “No, I said I’d drive you home.” He turns to smile at your puzzled expression, lips ready to part with an argument before he cuts you right off. “Never said I meant your home.”

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wineauntharry · 1 year

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wineauntharry’s masterlist!

hi!!!

yes this is very bare BUT i will keep updating it!

send requests here!

—--

joe burrow:

new nerves:

joe doesn't care who sees

mine:

joe can’t help but be possessive over what’s his

spoiled rotten:

joe is the birthday boy and y/n makes sure he knows that

jealous fratboy!joe headcannon

nerdy!joe headcannon

you know you’re the reason i believe in love, right?:

teeny tiny lil fluffy blurb if you squint hard enough

harry styles:

i just wanna talk: I

harry fucked up and he knows that, but he misses you so damn much

the bomb:

based off of the songs the bomb by florence + the machine and lead me on by nate poshkus

—--

people i write for:

the entire cast of wednesday

harry styles

all of 5sos

joe burrow

jack harlow

any ladies (wlw) :)

i can try to write for anyone else on this list it just might take longer to get to!

what i write:

i will to write any angst and fluff. i’ve never written smut but i can try if yall really want it! fwb to lovers, emeneies to lovers, friends to lovers, anything to lovers are some of my favorite tropes!

prompts! angst, fluff, smut

-all the love, kitt

#joe burrow #joeburrow x reader #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow oneshot #joe burrow headcannon #joe burrow imagine #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry x reader #harry styles #wednesday #xavier thrope imagine #tyler galpin #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow #5sos #masterlist

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thankspete · 1 year

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The Kitchen (c.h.)

This work is part of a series, When Our Friend Isn’t Around. Part 1: The Patio / Part 2: The Kitchen / Part 3: The Living Room / Part 4: The Guest Bedroom

Word Count: 1.7k Rating: T Summary: Being part of the clean-up crew isn’t so bad, after all. | Also on Ao3! Warnings: ~recreational drug use~

The upbeat rock music from earlier has been switched to smooth R&B, quietly trickling from the living room through the rest of the house. The colorful LEDs are off and every light switch in the common space has been flicked on, exposing the spills and crumbs around you. You know it doesn’t make sense, since you’re literally cleaning, but the harsh fluorescence was jarring and your drunk brain wished they’d turn the overhead light off.

According to the digital clock on the microwave, it was 5:23 in the morning. Everyone had begun to file out of the party by 3-ish, with stragglers and close friends bidding their goodbyes closer to 4. It’s not like you were expecting to be in bed by one, but you were really starting to regret promising Ashton you’d help him clean up afterwards.

Calum stuck around, too, given they were hosting together. They were in the living room, chatting and picking up discarded cups and cans, which fell into the garbage bags with light swishes and clinks. You stack the cups strewn around the kitchen on the dining table, alongside the empty boxes of Stella and PBR before rummaging under the sink for Clorox wipes. The first cylinder you grab seems too thin and light to be what you were looking for and you pull it from shadow into your view. An empty can of Mike’s Hard.

“Huh?” Who the fuck threw this under the sink?

“Hey.” A voice startles you and you bump your shoulder on the edge of the cabinet as you exit. Calum’s boots come into your view first, then his flushed face.

“You good if I take these?” He points to the cups on the table.

You nod and toss the can in his direction. “This, too!”

He catches the can in the bag, then puts it down to start breaking down the boxes on the table. You reach back into the cabinet, finding what you were looking for.

“Need help with anything?” He’s shoving the final folded box into the black bag before tying it up. “We’re pretty much done picking shit up, Ash is sweeping right now.”

“Sure. I think I’ve got surfaces covered, wanna help with this sticky puddle I’ve been walking in for the last hour?”

So he does. While you’re wiping down the counters, cabinets, and microwave, Calum raids the storage closet for a Swiffer. It takes him a couple of tries to get the mopping wipe on the head, but he figures it out.

You boost yourself onto the counter, opening up more floor space for him.

“So did Joey end up breaking anything this time?”

A small laugh escapes from his nose. “No, not that I know of.” He glances up at you before returning his attention to the pink stain on the tile. “Not that you were of any help on that front.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You nudge his thigh with your shoe. Unexpectedly, he grabs your ankle, setting aside his mopping task for now.

“I was supposed to keep an eye on him tonight.” He moves closer, maintaining a soft grip on your leg. Sitting up on the counter, you’re practically his height, looking him straight in the face, anticipating his next move. “You kept me a bit distracted.” He moves his hand from your ankle onto the counter to the right of you. You don’t look, but you can sense that there are only millimeters between his thumb and your jeans.

You weren’t quite sure what he meant by that. After Ashton had come out to get you both from the patio around 1:30, you only spoke to him two or three other times. He and Ashton were great hosts, flittering around the room, making sure everyone felt welcome, telling them thank you for coming. It was hardly your fault it seemed he kept gravitating back to you. First it was at the drinks table, when you were pouring your final cup of juice. The second time, he guided you by the elbow to a small crowd hanging out by the speaker and introduced you to them. He stuck around for a few minutes, allowing you to acclimate to these strangers before leaving you to converse with a small tug on your shirt and a wink. You were certain you’d seen Joey leave before 3 anyway, leaning on a friend’s shoulder and stumbling on his way out.

“Seems like you were distracting yourself, Calum.” You motion to the discarded Swiffer, leaning on the cabinets across from you. He was needlessly concerning himself with you again. You couldn’t say you didn’t like it.

“Just wanted’a make sure you were having a good time.” He shrugs and in a moment of rare unbridled confidence (or stupidity), you move your right hand from your lap to resting on top of his.

“What’s your excuse right now?”

His expression remains unchanged, smiling with slightly raised brows, clearly amused by this interaction. You weren’t sure what you were hoping for, but some encouragement would be nice.

He leans in slightly, resting his left hand on the other side of you. “You’re funny, you know that?”

While you missed the blue and purple ambiance lighting, you couldn’t say you were upset about getting to really look at his face for the first time tonight. He is pretty, with full lips and deep brown eyes. His hair is tousled, curls messy from the beanie he had been wearing earlier.

It seems like he hears Ashton coming before you do and takes a quick step back, removing his hands from either side of you. The cold counter feels like it’s burning your skin compared to the warmth of his hand and for the first time, you feel disappointed that your mutual friend showed up. He clomps into the kitchen holding a grimy dustpan and dragging the broom behind him.

“Looks great in here, guys!” Ashton takes a look around the room after disposing of the dirt, dust, and crumbs into the trash. “Need help with anything before I head to bed? M’fuckin exhausted.”

Calum has picked the Swiffer back up by now, wiping the remaining stains from the floor. “No thanks bro,” he says, not even looking up. “I think we’ve got it handled.” You smile at Ashton, corroborating Calum’s statement.

“Fuck yeah. See y’all in the mornin’!” He turns and makes a bee-line to his room, down the hallway from the right side of the living room.

“M’almost done,” Calum says and you jump from the counter to the floor.

“I’m gonna get a reward ready for us.” You turn to leave the room.

“Reward?” He stops mopping for a moment, a little confused.

“For cleaning this man’s house,” you shrug.

You leave him with that and make your way to the coat closet by the front door. Off the top shelf, you pull your backpack from its hiding place. It had pajamas, deodorant, and most importantly, weed. On your way to sit, you turn off the overhead light and flip on a lamp in the corner of the room. You sink into the ratty green couch and pull the rolling tray from the coffee table to your lap. It takes a moment to rummage through your bag for papers, filters, and herbs, but you find them. When everything is laid out, filter folded and ready, you begin your process. First, a layer of marijuana, then a thinner layer of mullein. It’s supposed to be good for sleep, but it tastes like shit, so you cover it with a layer of lavender. Overtop, you place another layer of weed and pick up the paper in a U-shape to begin rolling it shut. Calum comes in from the kitchen while you’re licking the adhesive.

“I see what you mean by reward, now. Pass ‘er over.” He sits just a few inches to your right on the couch. You hand the unfinished joint to him and he flicks it to force the herbs to fall towards the filter before twisting the end shut. You pass him your lighter, a black Clipper, to start off your little smoke circle. He pumpkin-tops it again before lighting it, discarding the leftover paper onto the rolling tray.

“Lavender?” He asks.

“And mullein,” you say, placing the tray back on the coffee table. You turn to face him now, back leaning on the armrest, your bent knee on the couch between you.

“You’re getting me used to this fancy shit, baby. I don’t think I can go back to cutting my weed with straight tobacco.” He passes the joint to you. “Where’d you get all this stuff?”

You smoke before answering. “Online. Herb shops. Witchy stores. Probably farmers markets.” Your fingers brush together when you pass him the joint.

“Mm…think you’ll just be my plug, then. Seems like a lot of work.”

“Ordering from Amazon seems like a lot of work?” You’re a little flabbergasted.

He’s holding the jay between his thumb and forefinger and brings it to your lips to shut you up.

“I can stay out here tonight,” he changes the topic, referring to the pull-out couch you were currently sitting on.

You remove the joint from your mouth by pulling his wrist back, keeping your hand wrapped around his arm.

“You tired yet?”

“Are you?”

You think for a moment, and despite feeling the fatigue in your bones, shake your head. “Still gotta shower, anyway.” You weren’t sure if you were informing him or inviting him. You could tell from the way his clothes fit that his body is probably a sight to behold. See if he’s got any other tattoos obstructed by his shirt…and maybe his pants. No, definitely not inviting him, though the thought was enticing. You remembered the way he stepped back when you were face to face in the kitchen. What would Ash think?

You bring his hand back to your face, take a puff, and let go.

“And when were you thinking of doing that? 8am? We’re wasting moonlight!”

“Pfft.” You pull the joint from his mouth, mimicking his actions on the patio. “After our reward, silly.”

“And your plan after…?”

“Sleep.” You shrug and pass the jay back to him. “Unless you’ve got something else in mind.”

as promised, the next chapter will be spicy <3 i always appreciate feedback, likes, and reblogs! hope u enjoyed :)

#calum hood x reader #calum hood imagine #calum hood oneshot #5sos imagine #5sos blurb #calum hood smut #part 3 is COMPLETE and coming out soon <3

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lovermine · 2 years

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SIMILAR DESIRES, hemmings

a feeling of jealousy is all it takes for the emotions they kept hidden to come to light. tw; alcohol consumption, possible sexual innuendo but not really?? its just briefly mentioned idk

she didn't date around because she wanted a love that lasted, she said. she believed that when the right person came along she would know, and she didn't have to waste time on others she wouldn't put a second thought to in years to come. she'd known for a while, who that person was.

luke hemmings, the golden haired boy who had never shown her anything but appreciation, love and respect for who she was. she found it so hard not to fall in love with him, but she was already in the deep before she realised soon enough to swim to shore. now she felt like she was drowning, struggling against the tide that yelled at her to admit her feelings. but she wouldn't, she would float in the deep salty waters forever if it meant she wouldn't lose her best friend over some feelings that could make or break them. she wouldn't sabotage something so good for something that had so little potential, in her mind. but he wished she would say something, not that he knows she wants to. he looks at her with so much adoration and want that his bandmates are surprised she hasn't noticed that the man would run to the end of the earths for her. if she was drowning, he was swimming to her to help keep her afloat.

it's why he's sulking as he watches her across the bar, talking to some guy that had been eyeing her all night and approached her the minute the curly haired man wasn't glued to her side. he know's he has no right to feel this way, she wasn't his, she was allowed to talk to who she wanted. if she wanted to go home with this guy at the end of the night, she could, whether it felt like a stab in the heart to him or not. he would lay at home desperately trying not to think about the possibility of another man having his hands on her the way he wished he could, telling himself that he would finally tell her about his feelings only to wake up the next morning with the same old desire to keep them hidden.

"sorry that took so long." she stumbles back into the booth next to him, a booth way too small to fit the two of them and their friends meaning that her shoulder is pushed up against him.

"what happened to the guy you were talking to?" he tries his best to bite back his jealous tone, but he's glad she's tipsy enough to not notice as it comes through anyway.

"he was an ass." she shrugs, leaning her head into his shoulder a little. he swears she's trying to kill him, that she just knows what she does to him and is trying to push him over the edge or something. or its some sick joke from the universe, a way of pushing him into finally admitting his feelings for her. but the universe doesn't understand the consequences if it all went the opposite way than what he hoped and dreamt of.

"you okay, yn?" he snaps out of his thoughts of her when he hears calums voice, averting his gaze from the half empty drink in front of him to the girl resting against his shoulder. her eyes are near enough closed, and he guesses that she's far more gone than he originally thought.

"mmm." she hums, "kinda wanna go home, but nel has the only key." luke looks over to where yn's roommate is, dancing with a mutual friend she had run into and clearly showing no signs of wanting to leave anytime soon.

"you wanna stay with me tonight? we can get an uber." his hand comes up to stroke her arm, fingers tracing over the silver bracelet on her wrist. one he had never seen her take off.

"don't wanna take you away from the party." luke shakes his head at the insinuation that he would rather be in a sweaty nightclub than anywhere with her by his side. "are you sure?"

“of course, come on.”

luke stares at the boiling kettle as he lets himself get lost in his thoughts the next morning, knowing she's awake as he had heard her greet good morning to petunia a few minutes ago. its the worst he's felt in a while, and he's hardly even hungover. but every pent up emotion from the night before was weighing heavily on his shoulders now that she wasn't by his side, her scent distracting him from anything that could possibly bring his mood down. he thinks about how he was basically torturing himself with his withheld feelings for her, how he's so in love with her it makes him sick and yet he keeps himself from seizing a moment to tell her. god, he almost makes himself angry.

"morning." his voice shakes him out of his trance of staring at the boiling kettle, looking over towards the entrance of his kitchen. and he swears he falls in love all over again, the sight of the girl of his dreams standing sleepily in his shirt. no makeup after he had helped her take it off the night before, hair thrown up in a messy ponytail that was definitely in need of a redo with the amount of stray hairs falling out of it. but she had never looked more ethereal. "you didn't have to sleep on the couch," she comments, clearly having seen the stray blanket and pillows as she made her way towards the kitchen.

"i wasn't gonna let you sleep on it." and i don't think i can fathom sleeping in the same bed as you without kissing you senseless. he'll admit, there was more of a bite to his voice than he wanted. it wasn't her fault after all, that his feelings were bubbling up inside him and threatening to flood his kitchen right there and then.

"are you okay, luke?" her feet patter across the kitchen tile until she's stood next to him, looking at him with a worry in her eyes that he wishes he could kiss away. "did i say something to you last night?" she panics a little, at the thought of possibly upsetting him with something she said in a drunk frenzy, not that she was ever a mean drunk. and it definitely wouldn't have been true, it killed her how she could think no wrong of him. sometimes she wishes she could bring herself to hate him, it would make the distance between them feel so much easier. or maybe she had done the worst thing imaginable, she had confessed to him. and he hadn't felt the same way, and now their friendship was down the drain.

"no, no. don't worry, you didn't do anything." she could do no wrong to him, that's for sure. she could rip his heart out and crush it to pieces and he's sure he'd still swoon at the mere thought of her. «it's nothing, forget about it."

"nuh uh, tell me hemmings." she lifts herself onto the counter so she can be eye to with him, hands coming up to his shoulders so he wouldn't try and avoid the question or her gaze. if only she knew the electricity that ran through his veins at the feeling of her fingertips on his skin. if only he knew that being this close to him, and even closer, was all she had ever wanted for the rest of her life. "what's plaguing that pretty head of yours?"

“i shouldn't have felt the way i did when i saw you with that guy last night." it stumbles out of his lips before he can stop it, but staring into her eyes inhibits any white lie that he could possibly come up with. and now it was the ultimate moment that could his change his life forever, he could face her rejection and deal with it throughout the rest of their friendship, he could lose her forever. or maybe, just maybe, his dreams were about to come true. the universe would answer his silent prayers in the most blissful way possible.

"how did you feel?" she asks him with a quiet voice.

“i don't know." his jaw clenches a little as he thinks back to the night before, the sickly smile the guy had thrown at her. the wav it had made him feel. "angry. i guess. or jealous."

"jealous?"

"of him." he clarifies, "of the idea that he could possibly take you home if you wanted him to." the thought makes him want to throw up, when did he get so goddamn possessive?

"but you were the one to do that anyway" she comments, a small smile tugging at her lips. she never would have gone home with him, not when luke had been at the booth a few metres away and she could have easily gone back to him and enjoyed every minute of her night with him. he would always be her first choice, always.

"not in the way i wanted to." he shakes his head with a dry chuckle, as if he finds himself ridiculous. her heart is skipping beats as she processes his words, thoughts whirling as she tries to convince herself that what she was hearing wasn't a figment of her cruel imagination, that luke hemmings was actually in front of her confessing that he wanted her the way that she wanted him. "i can't have you in the way i want to."

"says who?" her hands move closer to this neck, painted finger nails dancing along with the curls on the back of his neck and raising goosebumps along his skin. her face is so close to his he can count every freckle or blemish upon her features that makes him fall for her even more. "it's your shirt i'm in, your bed i'm waking up in. what does that tell you?"

"that we may have similar desires." with that his lips are on hers, his mind basking in the feeling of something he had yearned for for so long. it was the sweetness of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment. every lingering touch that set their skin alight, every wandering thought of what it was like to be in eachothers arms was communicated through the simple act. and it was everything and nothing all at once, in the best way possible.

vai's thoughts: might edit this later cos i feel like the ending is rushed, but pls enjoy the first oneshot on this account and Imk ur thoughts!!

link to taglist form <3 : @nimrats @arakuki

#🎧.vai’s work!#posting again for some reason it’s not showing up in any of the tags #5sos imagine #luke hemmings imagine #5sos fic #5sos fluff #luke hemmings oneshot #luke hemmings blurb #luke hemmings one shot #luke hemmings angst #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x you #luke hemmings #luke 5sos

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coc4ine-on-myshirt · 11 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Welcome to our blog!

We will be writing NSFW,fluff etc.

Request are open so please share your ideas with us!!

Warnings will be put at the start of each post we make:)

Fandoms we write for

Tokio Hotel Can't have them hearing - B. Kaulitz How they are in bed - Kaulitz twins (seperate obvi) Emo boy - B. Kaulitz

The 1975 Matty healy headcannons Ripped jeans - M. Healy

FNAF Angel tears - M. Afton

Jujutsu kaisen

The last of us

Aot

5sos

Scream (1996)

Creepypasta

PJO

Voltron

Haikyuu

Blue lock

Chainsaw man

Tokyo Ghoul

Heather's

Alice in borderland

Maze runner

IDV

Howl's moving castle

Death note

Twst

Bungo stray dogs

+more

masterlist

If you want us to write about something or someone else ask and you shall receive.

#jujutsu kaisen #tokio hotel #5sos #smut #oneshot #x reader #new blog #the 1975 #aot #fnaf #satoru gojo #matty healy #fluff

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trobedgirldads · 7 months

Text

posted on ao3 again!!

#american housewife #oliver otto #taylor otto #cooper bradford #oliver and taylor #cooliver #cooper x oliver #daniel dimaggio #meg donnelly #logan pepper #ao3 #fanfic #fanfic writers #5sos #5 secs of summer #fanfic link #oneshot #trobedgirldads writing

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kaiyatoast · 1 year

Text

security blanket - calum hood

summary: calum comforts you during a storm

pairings: calum hood x gn!reader w/c: 484

"couldn't sleep?"

you turned and saw calum, your best friend, moving to sit beside you. you shook your head before turning to look out at the window, staring at the sky as rain fell and lightning flashed occasionally.

you felt his warmth next to you, so you unconsciously and automatically moved closer to him. he wrapped his arm around your waist as you leaned your head against his shoulder.

just his presence alone calmed you down. you were always afraid of the storm. the cracks of the lightning would keep you awake, flinching every time you heard it. you were still afraid of it, but lately, you started to look out of the window, preferring to actually see the lightning instead of just hearing it.

you thought that it would help you, since the last time you were with calum, you sat by the window and watched the lightning, and felt less afraid than you usually would.

but it didn't work this time. at least, not until he was next to you.

you wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling the knot in your chest loosen, and you could breathe more freely.

"i thought it would work this time," you started. "i thought staring out the window and looking at the lightning would help."

"but it didn't?"

"no," you shook your head. "i don't think it was why i felt less afraid last time."

you were still staring out the window, but you could feel him looking at you.

"it was you."

"me?"

"yes, you. looking at the lightning didn't help me. being beside you, being with you, was what helped me."

you sat up, turning to look at him, not surprised when you saw his face already staring back at you. you smiled softly at him, to which he returned, a smile equally as soft as yours.

"it's like you're my security blanket," you said and he chuckled softly. "i'm serious, calum. with you, i feel like i'm at home, like nothing can hurt me. like i do not need to worry about anything as long as i'm with you."

and this, felt like it was a turning point. saying what you have always known. that calum was your home, your comfort.

he released a soft breath, gazing into your eyes. "you are my home too, y/n."

you both didn't need to say the words, you both knew what the other meant, and knew that you both felt the same way.

you moved back to your original spot, his arms around your waist, but this time, his embrace felt warmer, like saying what you both felt had magnified the comfort you both brought to each other.

his other hand found yours, intertwining your fingers together while his lips touched the top of your head, pressing a soft kiss there.

you smiled, calum hood was, without a doubt, your security blanket and home.

#calum 5sos #calum hood #calum hood x y/n #calum hood oneshot #calum hood imagine #5 second of summer imagines #kaiyinwrites

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grxcisxhy-wp · 8 months

Text

c.h. | you don't go to parties

back to my masterlist

pairing ; calum hood x reader

requested ; no

summary ; we've all heard the song i think you get it

warnings ! secret relationship, mention of alcohol and drug consumption, no happy ending

word count ; 937

a/n ; been awhile! sorry about that but i've had this concept in my head for a bit. i'm sure someone else has already done this, but i'm a sucker for angst so i figured i'd write some. enjoy!

Five years. That's a long time to being loving someone. A time where you give your all to that person. A time where you plan a future. A time where you share dreams and goals, even create some together. And all the time together only makes it hurt more when it's over.

Calum is a private guy, much more reserved than the other boys in the band. That's how he managed to keep your relationship under lock and key for so long. Cozy days in with him and Duke were the go to. The only time you two would be seen together was at parties when it was easy to blame the fact of Calum being with a girl on all the alcohol and/or drugs consumed that night.

It was easier when Calum was gone on tour or writing trips. Easier to forget all the pain the hiding brought you. You had wanted to tell the world, but Calum made it clear that wasn't his intention any time soon. He told you it was to protect you from all the negative attention that would inevitably come your way. You weren't sure you believed that anymore.

And so you brought it up one night.

"Cal," you whispered softly. So softly that if the two of you were doing anything but sitting on his couch in silence he wouldn't have heard it.

He responded with your name and when you stayed silent for a little too long he got worried, asking, "What's wrong, love?"

"I'm tired of quiet nights at home and parties," you admitted with a sigh. "I'm tired of no one knowing we're together."

"I told you, I'm trying to protect you," he reminded you. "Besides the people who matter know. Isn't that enough?"

"I don't know anymore." You pushed yourself away from him, turning to look into his eyes. "I just know I feel terrible hiding this. Us. So terrible that I can't sleep some nights."

"Why are you bringing this up now?" Calum asked. "I thought things were good. That you were happy with it being just us."

"I am happy," you reaffirmed. "I'm just... I could be happier."

"Can't we just talk about this later? Let's not ruin a good night."

"Sure."

But the pit in your stomach didn't go away as Calum pulled you into his chest again. And that was only the beginning of all the arguments. The beginning of the end.

"I'm tired, Calum," you shouted over the bed at him. The exhaustion was clear on your face. "Can we just go to bed and talk about this in the morning?"

"No. I want to talk now."

"That's a first," you mumbled.

"What was that?" Calum said, glaring at you accusingly.

"Nothing, just that you're the one usually putting this conversation off, and I'm the one continuously begging you to have it. What changed?"

"You! You changed!" Calum shouted. "You're giving up."

"Well, I've accepted the fact that I'm clearly not winning this argument," you admitted. "You don't want to be seen with me and that's fine. But you couldn't have expected I'd be quiet about it forever."

"Not forever," Calum said. "Just until I'm ready."

"And when will that be?"

The silence gave you your answer.

"I'm sick and tired, Calum," you repeated. "I can't deal with this. I won't be a secret anymore."

"What are you saying?" Calum asked, though he was sure he already knew.

"I'm saying I'm done," you said firmly, looking him straight in the eye. "I don't even want to stay one more night here. It makes me feel filthy being your secret. Like you could never want to be seen with me."

Calum says your name, enough love in the way he says it that it only hurts more than helps. "That's not true and you know it."

"No, I don't. Because it hasn't felt that way in a long time." You begin to collect your things, staying true to your word about leaving tonight. "I'll be back for the rest of my things later this week."

The way he says your name now is pleading. "Don't go. We can talk-"

"I'm tired of talking," you say, your tone truly exhausted. "Just let me go. Make this easy for once."

And he let you.

The next time Calum saw you was months later. Or at least he thought it was you.

He had been going to parties and getting all kinds of fucked up ever since you left. He had hoped you guys could talk when you got the rest of your things from his house, but you had sent a friend instead. One who had clearly been in the loop and did nothing but glare at him the whole time.

Since then he was drinking all day and all night at any houseparty he could find, drinking again the next day as some sort of hangover cure. It worked for awhile. Let him forget.

Until he thought he saw a glimpse of your face at a party he was hosting. He had been well past drunk and someone had given him some pill he couldn't remember the name of but he swore it had been you. Your hair, your eyes, your smile.

He stumbled off the couch after you, but you had been lost in the sea of people already. For the remainder of the party he went around trying to find you, asking people if they'd seen you, telling them all that had gone down between you including the good, the bad, and the ugly.

He never found you.

'Cause you don't go to parties anymore.

#5 seconds of summer #5sos #calum hood #5sos x reader #calum hood angst #angst #fluff #smut #calum hood smut #calum imagine #calum hood imagine #grxcisxhy's writing #calum hood oneshot #calum hood fluff

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talkfastromance4 · 11 months

Text

Emotions--Ashton Irwin oneshot

very self-indulgent fic and this song always makes me feel some type of way when I'm feeling all the feelings.

warnings: drug use, drug mention, gummies, weed and smoking mention, lots of feelings, underlying anger

Masterlist

word count: 2k

Feedback is always welcome and reblogs help spread my work!

Enjoy!

*****

She doesn’t like feeling this way, like a ticking time bomb waiting to implode but when it’s one thing after another after another after another–she feels the breakdown quaking in her bones. It could be something small that finally sets her off or something very grand that will make the destruction worse.

All she wants is someone to know when she’s in this danger zone and help her out, her defense mechanism will be to deny any help but that extra push will do it. Force her to open up. Pop the cork and let her spill everything she’s been feeling–or not feeling–out in the open.

She hates feeling broken and not knowing why then on the other hand she hates knowing why she feels broken but doesn’t know exactly how to fix it. She sits in her emotions trying to focus on one but they’re on a constant carousel that just keeps spinning and shows no sign of stopping. It makes her dizzy, all of these emotions, but no one seems to notice.

Except Ashton. He notices everything.

So that’s why on Friday when she walks in the room he can tell she’s on edge, she’s buzzing with it, her eyes are wide and bright with the edge she’s trying so hard not to fall from. She masks it well with a smile as she says hello to others. It’s damn near camouflage from the jokes she tells and invisible in her laugh.

But not to him.

So when he finally heads her way by the drink table, he ducks down by her ear to say,

“I know you’re feeling some type of way, so when you’re ready, come find me, yeah?”

She turns to look up at him, eyes wide and mouth open in shock.

“What? How do you know–?”

“I can tell,” he takes her drink bottle and twists it open, the fizz hissing on them both. “You don’t have to go through it alone. Just find me.”

He hands her her drink then walks away, his boots clicking on the concrete and she stares after him. What did he mean he could tell? No one could tell. She’s perfected this mask for so long there’s no way someone would be able to see past it.

It’s Sunday when they’re together again and now she has a vacant look in her eyes. Something else has triggered her and it makes Ashton nervous to see her so visibly shook by it. She’s not paying attention to those around her, staring off into space and it isn’t until he gets closer that he sees how blown her pupils are.

Not being shy of smoking weed himself, he has no judgment, they’ve even gotten high a few times together but this time is different. Usually she’s more giggly and sleepy when she smokes but this…this is making her all wrong.

He sees it before it’s about to happen but he’s too late to offer any aid when she bumps into the table and knocks over the punch bowl. The red liquid splashes onto her legs and shoes turning her white shoes pink. There’s a stunned silence and she just stares down at the chaos she caused before running away and slamming right into Ashton.

“It’s okay, come with me,” he says in her hair. His arms are tight around her as he lifts her effortlessly off the ground and carries her inside.

The chatter starts up again outside and she’s shaking like a leaf against him, her fingers pinching his biceps through his shirt. They’re in the kitchen, far enough away from the crowd outside and he sets her down on the counter, she curves into herself with her hands hiding herself away from Ashton’s eyes.

“y/n, look at me,” he murmurs trying to pry her hands from her face. She shakes her head vehemently and he can see some punch is on her fingers. “y/n, it’s okay it was an accident. Let me take your shoes off so you’re not so sticky.”

He bends down to peel off her sneakers then sees her toes are painted a pretty pink. He unravels the roll of paper towel, runs a portion of it under the sink then starts to clean up her legs. The punch splattered up her shins and knees, even a few splotches on her thighs.

“I ruined everything,” she whispers.

“You didn’t ruin a thing,” he shakes his head then glances at her sneakers, “well, except your sneakers.”

That earns a small chuckle from her, the sound is so sweet and broken Ashton turns to the noise but she’s still hidden behind her hands. He uses the opposite end of the towel clump to dry her off.

“How much did you smoke before you got here?” he asks.

“How do you know?”

“Your eyes.”

“I didn’t smoke it…”

“A gummy?” he inquires nonchalantly. He doesn’t want you to think he’s judging because that might make you paranoid and scared.

“Yeah. A full one. I don’t know the dosage.”

“Was it from Gage?” he asks and she nods peeking through his fingers. “Then it was a lot. And you drove here?”

“I’m so stupid–”

“Stop it,” he tosses the towels in the garbage then leans on the counter over her. He tries to move her hands away and this time she lets him. Her mascara is smudged, the whites of her eyes are bloodshot. “I’ll drive you home, where are your keys?”

“My bag is outside,” she sniffs.

“I’ll be right back. Stay put,” he squeezes her knee then heads back outside. He’s swarmed by people asking if she’s okay and he simply says he’s taking her home. When he comes back inside she’s slumped against the cabinets, her cheeks framed by her hands as she stares unblinkingly at the floor.

“My lips feel fuzzy,” she mumbles.

“I bet they do. Ready to go? Can you carry your shoes?”

She hums a yes and hops down the counter but stumbles into Ashton. He steadies her, slings her bag over his shoulder and guides her out the front door. He helps her in the passenger side, making sure she’s buckled.

Ashton keeps glancing her direction on the drive, he can see how sleepy she’s becoming even though her eyes are darting at the palm trees on the side of the road. She’s gnawing on her lip in a worrisome way.

“Are you hungry at all?” he asks.

“I want ice cream with sprinkles. And cheese fries.”

“Okay,” he smiles then turns into a fast food drive-thru.

When they get their food she tries to open up the cheese cup.

“No, no, no, you might spill and I know you don’t want melted cheese in your car.”

“But Ash!” she whines and pulls out two pieces of fries. She pops them in her mouth.

“Don’t eat them all or you’ll be very sad when we get home,” he warns. She snuck one more fry before rolling up the bag and sitting nicely against her seat.

They end up watching a movie while they eat their fries and shakes. She does a little happy dance each time she has a fry dipped in cheese.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks as the credits roll and she’s somehow found her way into his lap. He’s been petting her hair, letting his fingers thread through the strands for the last twenty-five minutes, her eyes becoming heavier.

“Kinda broken.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not yet. I need a little time yet, I think,” she sighs.

“Okay.”

“Time…time…can we watch Back to the Future?”

She was out like a light in the first ten minutes.

On Tuesday he texted her asking if she had any plans and she said no so he swung by to pick her up. She badgered him the whole time wondering where they were going but he wouldn’t budge. She was still confused when they arrived at the building then she heard glass shattering down one of the halls.

“Welcome to the Breaking Place,” a bubbly teen with bright pink hair said. “Are we here for a breakup, loss of job?”

“We’re here for feeling all the feelings and not knowing what to do with them,” Ashton says.

“Perfect. What’s your weapon of choice? Sledgehammer, bat, or fire poker?”

“I’ll do a sledgehammer, what about you, y/n?” Ashton asks and you’re staring at the girl in surprise.

“You brought me to a break room?” she whispers.

“Yeah. You’re feeling broken so why not break other stuff? Let all the emotions out. Choose your weapon, babe.”

She thinks it over for a second.

“Give me a bat.”

While they got dressed in the suits, pulled on gloves and goggles they listened to the teen explain the rules. Protective gear needs to be on at all times unless weapons of destruction are out of the hands. You can smash plates on the floor but not the wall. You can scream and shout and yell and cry as loud as you want.

Upon entering the room there were piles of plates on a worn table, multiple TVs, windows leaning against other tables, small lockers that have some dents in them and a glass cabinet.

“Have fun!” the teen sang and shut the door.

“What do you want to hit first?” Ashton asks, adjusting his goggles.

“The plates first, so I can get a feel of it.”

“Go for it.”

He watches her walk hesitantly towards the plates, her gloved finger circles the circumference before picking it up. It has a cheap design around the edges and then she slams it to the ground. It shatters and she smiles. She does another one then another one until she takes one in each hand and destroys them in tandem. When all the plates are broken she moves to one of the TVs.

She lifts the bat and swings hard right in the center. It concaves and broken pieces fall to the ground. Ashton watches her whack and smack at it some more, each thrust more powerful. Soon she’s screaming as she smashes and bats at the wood. Ashton watches as she destroys everything in the room, using all her might, all her strength until she becomes visibly drained.

Ashton drops his hammer the same time you let out a loud wail, the bat falling from her grip and rolling on the floor. The glass cracks under his feet as he goes to her and she slams into his chest. The sobs finally come forward and he holds her tightly.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs then pulls the hood down and removes her goggles. His thumbs rub at her tears. “I’ve always got you, okay? I know you hurt sometimes and feel like you have no one but you’ve always got me.”

You nod meekly in his hold.

“There’s so much going on and so much to remember…I don’t know what to do first.”

“Let’s write it all down and go through it together.”

“Some of it is from work–”

“I’ll help as much as I can. You aren’t alone. The guys will help out, too. You have no idea how many people love you, y/n.”

“My problems are so miniscule to theirs–”

“That’s your brain tricking you,” he shakes his head.

“It’s hard to ask for help.”

“I know, and I know it’s because of your dad. He made you feel like a burden and got angry when you asked for help but that’s never going to be an issue with me. You call me whenever, wherever, no matter the time.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” she shakes her head.

“What if we come up with a safe word? When you’re feeling too close to the edge, text it and I’ll come running.”

“Could it be a song?”

“Whatever you want,” he nods.

“Can it be your song? Emotions? It says exactly what I feel.”

“It’s perfect.”

“Thanks for everything, Ash.”

“Anytime,” he smiles and kisses her forehead.

____________________

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#ashton irwin writing #ashton irwin fluff #ashton fluff #ashton irwin 5sos #5sos writing #ashton fic #ashton irwin oneshot #ashton irwin fic

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