#5sospank

[5sospank]

vapor - luke one shot

word count: 7,278

rating: NSFW

keywords: smut, songfic, angst

summary: All good things come to an end. You spent your summer between the sheets with Luke, the boy from the beach house next door, lying to him while he was in love with you. On your last night together, you are left to face the music and he is left to pick up the pieces.

A/N: this piece is inspired by vapor by 5sos, obviously. it’s my fav song by them and i wanted to write something that reflected how i interpret the lyrics. i hope you enjoy. this is my favorite one shot i’ve written :)

You could taste the guilt on your tongue. The wistful words bounced around your brain repeatedly; a reminder of who you pretended to be throughout your entire summer spent on the coast. You weren’t quite sure what it was that had inclined you to act in such a way. You were manipulative, careless of his blatant attachment to you and apparent sentimental feelings, but what you did was done and it couldn’t be changed. Not after all these months, not after all the time you had with him wrapped blissfully between the sheets, and it certainly could not be changed after tonight.

Maybe that’s why you decided there was no point in being honest now. Maybe that was why you continued your facade, hanging on his every word as you sat beside him around the bonfire. The two of you weren’t alone. It was an end of the summer party held on the beach just blocks away from the house that your family had rented for the season. Tomorrow you would be returning home. Everything was coming to an end. Maybe that was why you couldn’t gather up the courage to be jarringly truthful.

So you sat beside him, swallowing up his presence for the last hours you were able to until you flew back home, which was unfortunately located across the country. You couldn’t deny the fact that you had enjoyed the summer with Luke. He was good company. You had found a friend in him, someone worth confiding in, but you also couldn’t deny the fact that his feelings for you were of a magnitude that overpowered yours completely.

He was in love with you. Luke was absolutely, positively in love with you. It was evident in his every move, his every touch, his every glance. You didn’t feel the same, so you lied to him. The disingenuous words would fall from your tongue each time you kissed him, felt his body flush against yours, warm and comforting, familiar.

However, the regret you felt because of your actions weighed heavy on your heart. You had never known yourself to be deceitful, but you were selfish; that much you could admit. You couldn’t stand to be cooped up alone with your family for the entire summer, so when you met the boy who lived in the beach house next door, he seemed as though he was decent company enough. In actuality, Luke was more than that. He was everything you could ever dream of, but somehow, something was missing.

You forced yourself to push the thoughts out of your head. You were brought back to yourself, lulling into reality when you felt his strong arm wrap around your frame. A breeze was picking up despite the hot, roaring fire in front of you, illuminating the features of everyone sat around its perimeter. Luke’s eyes were cold and alert; a contrast to what they usually looked like when his gaze would lock on yours, light to match his smile, which was also failing to make an appearance at the moment. He was thinking. You could practically see the gears turning within his own head, his jaw clenched and his lips set in a thin line.

With a soft sigh, you leaned into his side just slightly, making him aware that you wanted his attention. Once Luke looked down at you, his stare dropped over your face in observation. He raised his brows. “What’s up, babe?”

The petname tugged at the hole in your heart, which was only growing with every passing second. It was your last night spent with the boy who you had wrapped around your finger for the entire summer. The both of you were realizing it, although the definitive feeling in the air was affecting Luke more than it was you.

“Just wanted to know what you were thinking of.” You murmured in reply. Your proximity to him was so close, you could shift forward a fraction of an inch and your lips would be on his.

Luke smiled, although the gesture was empty. Forced. “I was thinking of getting out of here, maybe taking a drive.” He replied nonchalantly. “Wanna talk to you.”

You felt yourself tense. You knew what he meant by “talk” and you also knew that it didn’t mean he was just up for the mindless chat that the two of you usually shared. Luke was being serious. You could see it etched into his every feature.

“All right,” you said. “Let’s go.”

The two of you stood up from the flimsy plastic lawn chairs in synchronization, turning the heads of those who were sat around the fire with you. You said your goodbyes. Some were saddening, considering you had made a good handful of friends that summer, but you eventually walked from the beach with ease. Some relationships were meant to be fleeting, you had learned.

Your footsteps fell heavy once you reached the pavement, nearing Luke’s old pickup truck. The two of you had spent much time crammed into its cab, singing along to the radio’s top ten pop songs with the windows rolled down. Sometimes you would find the energy to get up early with him and go through the drive thru, getting coffees and donuts to share while you would watch the sunrise. He would drive you around town, revving the sputtering engine to impress you, although his attempts would fail miserably. The memories were warm.

You could feel the lump in your throat begin to thicken.

Luke was walking a short distance behind you, but he quickly picked up his pace to step in front of you to open up the passenger door and help you in. You felt his hand linger on the small of your back once you climbed into the cab, inhaling his scent for one of the last times. He shut the door in silence and rounded the vehicle’s front, swinging himself up into the driver’s seat before turning the key in its ignition.

The radio continued playing from before when he had picked you up for the party. It hummed low in the background, clouded by the white noise that was resonating in your mind. You could feel the tension between the two of you, how it was masking what was supposed to be a bittersweet ending to one of the best vacations of your life. You had messed up. You had fucked with Luke’s feelings, and you didn’t deserve to be sad about it.

He pulled out of the parking lot. You watched the way his arms were extended outward, fingers curling around the steering wheel effortlessly. His side profile was illuminated by the sporadic street lamps, his jaw littered with patchy stubble that you had grown to admire. He looked good, but unhappy.

“What did you want to talk about?” You urged yourself to ask. Your voice sounded foreign, unknown due to its shake.

Luke swallowed thickly, glancing over at you as the two of you waited at a stop light. The entire town was quiet, asleep, considering it was well past midnight and the population consisted mainly of retired elderly people. You liked the peacefulness of your surroundings.

“I, uh, just wanted to talk about us, really.” He stuttered out. He seemed nervous as well, chewing on his lower lip, his thumbs tapping repetitively against the steering wheel.

You said nothing in reply. You weren’t sure of how to bring up the subject of your relationship with Luke, if you could even call it that. The two of you had spent the past three months hooking up without ever defining whatever you were. However, you were practically inseparable, and you knew how he felt about you even if he never explicitly said it.

You inhaled sharply as if to brace yourself. “Luke…I have to leave tomorrow. You know that.” You muttered. Your tone was deflated and hopeless.

Luke continued driving down the main street, the low hum of his truck comforting you despite the hecticness that was going on within your thoughts. You could see how your words had already began to cut into him, leaving him bleeding already.

He was silent for another moment. You watched as he turned the truck into the empty parking lot of a local restaurant. It was dark, but you could still make out the torn expression on his face. He didn’t want to hear the answers you had to his questions. He already knew. But he still felt as though he should ask. He needed some sort of closure. He fell in love with you in the span of three months, and he wasn’t sure if he would ever see you again. Luke was holding onto the one last shred of hope he had, that maybe you were in love with him too.

The truck was in park. Luke turned off the ignition, although the keys were still abandoned in the ignition. You two were sitting in uncomfortable silence. He was the first to break the impending quiet.

“I know you’re gone tomorrow, but I figured this would be…worth a shot, maybe.” He muttered, shifting in his seat to look at you fully.

You couldn’t help but stare back at him. He was so beautiful, and he was right in front of you all summer. You felt awful for stringing him on.

“What are you trying to say, Luke?” You sighed.

He ran his fingers through his hair, thinking before he spoke, spitting out his words in haste. “Do you love me?”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that. The blunt question made your blood run cold. You froze, your eyes still locked on his, and you could detect the hope that was laced within his gaze. He was completely and utterly still, afraid to even move a muscle, as if even that would change your answer.

But you took too long to come up with a response. Your answer was lain in your hesitation. You didn’t love him back, not in the way that he loved you, at least. You didn’t love him. Even though the months that you had spent with him were some of the best of your life, stuck by his side through every hour of the day, spent creeping into his bedroom while trying not to wake his parents. You didn’t love him, even though he was the one you shared the summer with, sneaking kisses on the beach or wiping the ice cream from the tip of his nose as you laughed. You didn’t love him and you couldn’t bother to hide it. Not anymore.

Still, you opened your mouth for his benefit. You wanted to tell him you loved him. You wanted to love him. But Luke caught you, raising his hand in interruption, bowing his head as he stared down onto his lap.

“Just…nevermind. Don’t say anything,” he replied, dejected, his voice hoarse. “But I love you. And I-I want you to remember me, all right?”

It was almost as if you could feel your heart shatter into millions of tiny little pieces. You could feel it sinking into your chest, your palms warm with nervous sweat as you stared into the eyes of a boy who loved you with everything in him, but you didn’t feel the same. You never knew that guilt could hurt so badly.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered sadly.

Luke shook his head, running his palms over his jaw. You watched his actions, noticed the blatant disappointment that shone through in his every movement. However, you were surprised once you heard him say, “C’mere.”

“What?”

“Come here.” He repeated himself. “Let me kiss you. One last time, just let me kiss you.”

You were unsure of yourself as you unbuckled your seatbelt. You already felt bad enough about leading him on for so long. The fact that he still wanted to kiss you was confusing, but you wanted to do whatever would make him feel better. So you shifted over the seats in the cab of his truck until you were side by side, although Luke had other ideas. He was already pulling you into his lap, already pushing your hair out of your face. His fingertips ghosted over your jawline as his eyes studied you. It was like he was trying to memorize the way you looked, because the both of you knew it would be the last time.

And then he was leaning in, just brushing his lips over yours gently and slowly, his eyes barely open. You were shaking like a leaf beneath his touch, overwhelmed and perplexed, guilty and disconsolate. But he was calming you. His hands on you were like a saving grace, feeling the same as they did all summer long, palms calloused and rough against your smooth skin. His taste hadn’t changed and you felt yourself wanting to remember him, just as he had said. Your feelings differed but you didn’t want to forget him.

You melted into his kiss, caving into him completely and fully, letting him wrap his arms around you. You cupped his face in your hands, feeling his facial hair scratch against you as his jaw moved while his lips did. His kisses were slow and deliberate, pointed, as if he was trying to make the moment worthwhile. You had never kissed him so languidly and effortlessly before, and suddenly, you wished you had spent the whole summer like this - savoring his words and his flavor and the way he fit with you.

Luke sighed against your lips, pulling away after a moment to trail his hands up and over your shoulders, down the expanse of your arms as he admired the way you looked while you were perched in his lap. He was quiet and his chest was heaving gently, heart racing, breathless. You were in the same condition, in awe of what had just happened between the two of you. You could hear your blood pounding in your ears, your lips tingling from his kiss.

“This is the last time we’ll ever see each other, isn’t it?” He questioned, tenor gravelly.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “It is.”

Luke frowned and his fingers curled around your wrists subtly. You stared down at him, awaiting his next move, but time was frozen at the moment. It felt as if you were going to be stuck in the cab of Luke’s truck with him forever, retracing the memories in your head, reminding yourself of how much he loved you.

“Let’s make the most of it, then.” Luke stated quietly.

Your eyebrows drew together at the sound of his words. You cocked your head, immediately opposed to his proposition, but Luke seemed dead set in his ways. He was nodding, already convincing you with the mere look on his face, moving to hold your hands in his own and squeeze.

“C’mon,” he whispered. “It’s only one more night. Just…just lie to me again.”

You blinked. You felt horrible while listening to the desperation in his voice, how badly he wanted to make this night with you last forever. And you were sure that in Luke’s mind, it would last forever - he would play these moments over and over again in his head, play your memories on repeat, thinking of all the times that you told him you were in love, but not with your words - with your actions.

So you did what he said. You leaned in, quicker than you had before, succumbing to his conviction as you kissed him passionately, igniting the fire that had been burning inside of you ever since you met him. Your body fit together with his perfectly, skin electrified by his mere touch, but there was an emotional disconnect that you had finally been able to acknowledge. Except now, the two of you were ignoring it.

And you reveled in that - in the ability to suppress your guilt and your regret as you buried yourself in Luke’s kiss, twining your fingers through his hair as you pushed it up and off his forehead. He whimpered while you shifted in his lap, feeling your lower halves move closer as you arched into him. His hands smoothed down your back, gripping your hips as your tongue rolled along his acutely.

Luke pulled away just a fraction of an inch, his lips still against yours as he mumbled, “Lie to me, baby.”

You tugged on the roots of his hair gently. It was enough to make him whine again, to lean in and reconnect his lips to yours. You could taste the mint on his tongue which surely contrasted the alcohol that lingered on yours, although Luke didn’t mind. He would take whatever he got when it came to you, especially on this last night. He would take anything.

His hands slid up the curvature of your waist, beneath the cotton material of your old tee shirt. Well, it was actually his - you had stolen it from his bedroom floor at the beginning of the summer, but soon it became yours once Luke saw you in it, claiming he liked the way you looked in his clothes. And he was letting you keep it, surely. You didn’t even want to give it back.

You could feel his grasp sliding over your ribs, raising goosebumps on your skin. His hands were cold and chilling, moving over every inch of you, trying to feel as much of you as he possibly could. The two of you were virtually ravenous. Your pace was speeding up as your kisses turned sloppy, swallowing one another’s pants as your tongue traced over his bottom lip before you pulled back just briefly, allowing Luke to tug the shirt over your head.

You observed him smile to himself as he tossed it to his side, most likely noticing that it was his. But then his eyes were back on yours, pale eyelashes surrounding his infinitely blue irises that somehow still shone despite the darkness. You took your hands from his hair, your palms sliding down his cheeks until you were cupping his face while you stared at one another. Your chests were still heaving and the air was still hot around you, but you needed this moment - just a silent pause while you met his gaze, bringing you back to Earth, sobering you.

And then you leaned in to kiss him again, grinding your hips down against his, your jaw going slack from the relieving feeling of the friction. Luke’s reaction mirrored yours: his mouth fell agape instantaneously before he sucked in a sharp breath, his forehead resting against yours as the both of you became too distracted to continue your kissing.

You steadied yourself on his broad shoulders, gripping them through the thick material of the flannel shirt that he had thrown on over an old tank top. Your breathing was ragged as you focused on the gyration of your lower half, how Luke would shift his hips up so that he could increase the contact, hands stationed back on your hips again.

He tilted his head upward so that he could kiss you once more, rolling his tongue languidly over yours, pulling your body down as the friction began to tease him to the point where he was growing frustrated. You could feel him hard beneath you, erection straining against the tight denim of his jeans, making your stomach jolt from the mere thought.

Luke’s hands skimmed up your exposed torso, twining around your back so that he could unclasp your bra. His fingers fumbled nervously for a moment before he was pulling the material from your chest, letting it fall from your arms before you threw it to the side, your eyes locking on Luke again.

He reached out, although you were already close enough to touch. He ran his palms over your breasts, squeezing them, his lips parted as his gaze flickered back up to meet yours. “So fuckin’ pretty, baby.” He murmured, then reached up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

You blinked at him, unable to summon the words to reply to his dreamy compliment. Everything felt dazed - you were guilty all night over what you had done to him this summer, but here he was, touching you and holding you close to him like you hadn’t done anything wrong.

The pad of Luke’s thumb swiped along your bottom lip as he looked at you longingly, then leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. You felt the cool metal of his lip ring and the scratch of his beard against your skin before he pulled back again, allowing you to tug the flannel he was wearing down his arms. You pulled it off until he was shrugging out of it, left in a tight white tank top, that same necklace he always wore dangling against his skin, shining from the moonlight outside of the truck.

“Gonna miss you, y’know.” Luke whispered, his thumb still smoothing over your bottom lip in soothing patterns. “Wanna show you how much I’ll miss you, all right? That okay?”

“Yeah, Luke.” You nodded, your voice weak as you spoke, lowering as he pulled you in for another kiss.

And you were lost again. It felt like it did all summer long - you could practically taste the salt on his skin from the ocean, practically feel the warmth that was radiating from his body from the sun. It was like you had rewound time to the first month that you had spent together, completely immersed in one another without a worry in the world. It felt effortless, but you knew the moment meant so much more to Luke. For you, this was a goodbye, but for him, this was his last chance to prove himself to you. He was still hopeful despite the fact that he knew you didn’t care for him - not that way.

Luke’s tongue was smooth and sweet against yours. It traced the outline of your own, his hands still on your breasts, your nipples hardening from his touch. Your skin was littered in goosebumps but you could only concentrate on the way his chest felt so broad beneath your palms. You could feel his heart beating through the thin material of his tank top, how it was pounding erratically, contrasting against your own heart’s steady pace. He was nervous, anxious, and you knew exactly why.

You ground your hips down again, hearing him expel a quiet whimper that matched your own. Luke’s touch traveled southern, his fingertips trailing over your navel before they were fidgeting with the button on your denim shorts. You felt your breathing shallow once he unzipped them, letting you shift so that he could shove them halfway down your thighs, leaving you in some flimsy lace underwear.

“Wanna feel you, baby.” He gritted, touch dancing around the area where you were craving him most.

“Luke,” You sighed his name, your stare burning into his intensely.

He said nothing in reply, averting his gaze downward to where his fingertips were trailing over your slit. The angle wasn’t ideal but you made do with all the room that you had in the cramped area of his truck, which only forced you to be even closer together.

Finally, you felt him touch you properly, his index and middle fingers rubbing you over the material of your underwear. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders, surely leaving behind crescent-shaped marks that would still be there tomorrow, even if you weren’t. You were inundated with how quickly he warmed up your body, breaths escaping from behind his teeth as his eyes flickered from your lower half up to your facial expression so that he could gauge your reaction.

“Gonna miss how good you look like this.” He mumbled after a moment, still brushing his fingers over you haphazardly.

You were practically bucking your hips up into his touch, your bottom lip taken between your teeth. Luke was enjoying your desperation, but he didn’t show it. He wore a poker face, his brow furrowed and his lips now set in a tight line, jaw clenched and eyelashes pale against his light pallor. He looked determined, focused only on making you writhe from his touch.

He then dipped his hand beneath the waistband of your underwear, dragging his fingers up your slit, gathering the moisture that had developed between your legs. He was breathing unevenly, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment as he began rubbing at your clit, looking up to enjoy the way that your body was already shaking in front of him.

You leaned back so that you were practically draped over the steering wheel and dashboard. Your back was arched as you moved to grip the door beside you along with the center console. Luke was stunned for a moment by the way you appeared, completely sprawled out and hot all over, your lips parted in pleasure as your eyelids fluttered shut. His movements slowed, his mouth falling agape at the sight of you.

“Always so beautiful,” Luke told you. “Remember that.”

And you believed his words. Providing the way he was looking at you, it was hard not to. Luke was always so sincere, wanting nothing more than to please you, than to have you as his own. But that couldn’t happen, and it wouldn’t - you were leaving tomorrow, you were lying to him.

You felt him insert two of his digits into your center, easing them forward slowly. Your body retracted, breathing shallowing as you screwed your eyes shut at the intrusive feeling. Luke’s free hand smoothed over your bare torso, between the valley of your breasts, down over your navel until he was rubbing at your clit, curling his fingers at the knuckle. Your jaw slackened at the combination of the pleasures, your tenor wavering as you gritted out, “Shit, Luke, feels good.”

“Yeah, baby?” You heard him rasp. “Like that?”

You only nodded rigorously. Your eyes flashed open for a sparing second to see Luke already gazing at you, the movement of his fingers unceasing. Your walls were clenched around his digits as he eased them in and out of you at a steady, safe pace, but it was still enough to get you sweating. Your skin was growing clammy and sticky and your stomach was tensing as Luke’s fingertips continuously traced around your clit in a teasing manner.

You could hear his breaths escaping from his lips just as fast as yours were. He was getting worked up from watching the way your body responded to his touch. The way that he could get you shaking beneath him in a matter of minutes was something that always amazed him. He took pleasure in making you feel good, in getting you to expel his name in a myriad of whimpers and moans.

You bit down on your bottom lip, absently leaning forward, closer to Luke as the pace of his fingers increased. They were brushing against your g-spot, curling to make your body spasm with every shift of his wrist, and the fact that he was still working your clit was bringing you closer and closer to the edge with every passing second.

But what you were aware of the most was Luke’s static glare, the way that he was watching your every move, the way that your body would writhe and your eyes would screw shut. He was so entranced by how you looked like this, your skin virtually glowing from the moonlight shining in through his truck. His scent was surrounding you and you could feel him everywhere, even more so when he leaned forward, pressing his lips to the hollow of your throat.

You whimpered as you felt him suck a lovebite into your skin, his teeth grazing over the flourishing bruise, followed by his tongue, as if he was nursing the area. You whimpered, your back arching as he moved upward, facial hair tickling you as he kissed at your neck again, slowing the pace of his fingers. You whined as time seemed to slow down around you, coinciding with the pace of his every move, with the slow, torturous pleasure that came from the sensation of his mouth on your neck.

And then he pulled back just a fraction of an inch, just enough so that he could speak against your skin. “Sound so sweet, baby girl.” He murmured. You could practically feel his words against your neck, able to make out every single syllable he uttered down to the minute shape of his lips as they moved. You shivered at the sound of his voice and how it outpoured smoothly, like velvet, like honey.

You felt your back arch even more as he sucked another hickey just below your ear, lips moving up to ghost over your jaw before he was hovering over you, watching the way you started to shake. You could feel his knuckles curling more deliberately, his actions more pointed as he became determined to bring you over the edge.

You were close - the both of you could feel it in the way your arms shot out to bring him closer to you, one of your hands curling around the nape of his neck, fingers entangling themselves in his hair. Your foreheads bumped against one another as you moaned, but Luke quickly suppressed the exaggerated noise by kissing you passionately, his tongue swiping against yours in one swift motion.

And you were losing it. You could feel your body grow hot all over, a feverish warmth that lit your skin on fire. Luke held you closely as you cried out his name euphorically, your eyes shooting open as your lips brushed against his while his fingers worked you, your body squirming uncontrollably. You couldn’t help yourself - the intensity of the pleasure was getting the best of you, overtaking you and clouding your mind for a few blissful seconds.

But then you were brought back to yourself, a certain silence thickening in the surrounding air. The only audible sound was the truck’s stereo and its static hum in the background, overshadowed by your heavy breaths and the way they fanned over Luke’s face as he studied you with his bottom lip taken between his teeth.

“You drive me insane.” He whispered quietly, as if it was a secret that he was confessing within the darkness that you two shared. His confession was followed by a kiss, his lips melting against yours fluidly, slowly, as if the both of you had suddenly became overtired. But then he pulled back, pushing your hair out of your face, knuckles brushing over your cheek affectionately. “Wanna feel you all over me.”

You were still shaking from your orgasm, but you found the strength to nod your head, to run your fingers through Luke’s hair and push it off of his forehead. “It’s our last night together,” you breathed out. “Don’t let me forget it.”

Your words spurred Luke on. He chuckled lowly, the sound rumbling low in his chest. His smirk was contagious, the way that it twitched his lips and made them curve upward on the ends only, exposing only a single dimple and the mischievous glint that you had found in his eyes many times. The mood was lifting and you could sense it.

His hands were back on you in a matter of no time, memorizing your body and its curves and its edges. His touch was soft and tentative, and you knew just how badly he wanted to take you home back to his and spend days on end in his bedroom by the beach together, but this moment was all you had left. It was bittersweet, just as you had predicted.

Luke nudged you so that you were standing, your head level with the roof of his truck as you were stationed between his parted legs. He shoved your shorts and underwear down your legs the rest of the way, then stilled completely once you reached out to undo his belt buckle and begin to rid him of his jeans.

They were tight, and there was a short moment of struggle, but he eventually got them down his legs, leaving him in a pair of briefs that clung tightly to his thighs. You could see every inch of his erection and how it was straining against the black material, how Luke’s breathing had increased to the point where his chest was rising and falling rapidly. You decided to pull at the hem of his tank top, to lift it up and over his head so that your eyes could drag down his torso, over his smooth pale skin.

You were back in his lap almost instantly, noting the way Luke swallowed thickly as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. Your faces were level now, almost touching as you ran your hands down his abdomen, feeling it clench from your mere touch.

“I’ll miss you too, Luke,” you found yourself admitting. “A lot more than you think I will.”

He only nodded, unsure of how to reply. He was too distracted by the sight of your bare body on display before him, too distracted by the feeling of your fingertips tracing the straight outline of the waistband to his briefs. You were teasing him, but only because you knew he liked it. You had learned almost everything there was to know about his body, knew all of his weaknesses, what he enjoyed and what made him sweat.

And with that realization, you also discovered that you would miss knowing everything about Luke. You would miss the time spent with him and you would miss how natural it was, how easy it all was. You were going to miss him more than you had initially anticipated, and that was what scared you - that maybe things were changing within this very moment.

You urged the thoughts out of your head as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to Luke’s, feeling him practically let out a sigh of relief because you had finally kissed him again. He craved tasting you, feeling your tongue move against his in the alluring way that it usually did. He could spend hours with you like this, if it were up to him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t, and that sad fact was starting to sink in.

Slowly, you dipped your hand beneath the waistband of his briefs, wrapping your grasp around the base of his erection. He was almost throbbing from the frustration, his voice wavering as he murmured, “Oh, fuck, baby.”

He stopped kissing you completely as his jaw went slack once you began to stroke his length. You watched him the way that he had watched you - with admiration, closely studying the way he reacted to your every maneuver. He would whimper quietly when you swiped your thumb over his tip, spreading the bead of precum that had leaked. His eyebrows drew together immediately as you gripped his shaft tighter, twisting your fist around him, your other hand continuously running your fingers through his disheveled hair.

“You make me f-feel so good,” Luke choked out, hips bucking upward into your fist absently.

You shushed him, soothing him as he moved to grip the driver’s seats armrests. His knuckles turned white from how harshly he was holding onto them, completely overwhelmed by your touch, by your quiet voice as you observed him pant.

But Luke was quickly nudging your hand away, shaking his head and mumbling something to himself under his breath. He opened his eyes to look at you again, lips parting before he muttered out, “Need you, all right?”

“Need you, too.” You whispered in reply. You didn’t have to think before you spoke. The words spilled from your tongue effortlessly.

Then Luke was fumbling around for his wallet, flipping open the leather before reaching into one of its pockets so that he could pull out a condom. You watched with hooded eyes as he ripped open the foil, sparing a passing glance at you before he was nudging you out of his lap only slightly so that he could roll the latex over his length. His bottom lip was between his teeth as he did so, and then he was gazing at you again, pulling you back to him.

He reconnected his lips to yours briefly before you were adjusting yourself above him, lowering your lower half down onto his length. You moved slowly, your muscles tightening as you sucked in a sharp breath at the sensation, your walls clenching around Luke’s girth familiarly.

He sighed out immediately, relieved as his arms moved to wrap around your frame, almost in a hug. He was holding you close to him so that your chests were flush against one another, skin sticky. You could feel the cool metal of his necklace pressed against your skin as you steadied yourself on his shoulders, bottoming out completely until he was so deep inside of you that you whined, eyes rolling back.

“Okay, baby?” Luke asked you, his lips at your ear.

“Yeah,” you muttered quietly. “Feels so good.”

Luke didn’t say anything. He was already too inundated in your body, feeling the way your walls were clenched around him as you pulled yourself up, then lowered down again as you started to develop a rhythm. Your body was moving in synchronization with Luke’s - his hips would raise as yours would fall so that he was practically fucking up into you from beneath, mouth brushing against your ear as his grip rested on the curvature of your waist.

You were already shaking from the pleasure. Luke was beginning to take control, noting the way that you were too distracted by the sensation to continue moving. He was thrusting up into you, grunting softly, the noises sounding so pretty as they filled up the silence of his truck. You wanted to hear them again and again and again, and that thought scared you. You were so stuck on leaving this summer behind, but right in this moment, you never wanted to leave. You wanted to stay.

Your fingernails dug into the skin of Luke’s shoulder as you clenched your teeth, feeling the way his tip hit your g-spot every time he angled his hips forward. Luke was moving quickly, his pace quickening in correlation with his breaths. You could feel them fanning over your skin, hot and ragged, stopping short only when he would grunt in satisfaction.

He pulled back, loosening his grip on you so that he could actually look you in the eye, and you couldn’t tear your gaze away. You were hypnotized by the endless blue and the way that he was staring at you with such adoration, you felt your heart skip a beat. No one had ever looked at you so earnestly, so lovingly. For the first time in your life, you knew what it felt like to be loved.

And you didn’t feel so guilty anymore.

Subconsciously, you leaned forward and kissed him as fiercely as you could, as if you wanted to communicate what words couldn’t. You were so overwhelmed by the pleasure that you felt, but they were only emphasized once they fell into correlation with what was going on in your mind. You felt feather-light, like you were floating on cloud nine, and the only thing that was holding you to Earth was Luke’s gentle grasp on your waist.

His tongue traced the ample outline of your bottom lip, acutely and precisely, as if he was trying to put his all into kissing you as well. You were attempting to stop from whining, your body trembling as he thrusted in and out of you with more concentration. Luke bit down on your lip, pulling back until he released it, eyelids fluttering open so that he could meet your stare again.

You wanted to open your mouth, to say something, anything - even if it was just his name in a simple whimper, but your voice was caught in your throat as you felt yourself get lost in the pleasure. You could barely think coherently because of how good everything felt, how Luke’s hands were now snaking away from your waist and up over your ribcage, skimming over your breasts until he was cupping your face.

“Gonna lay you down,” Luke murmured, his voice strained.

You could only nod. You were unable to speak, your eyelids screwing shut as he shifted the two of you so that you were laying down across the truck’s narrow seat, Luke’s tall stature hovering over you. His touch slid down from your chest to your thighs again, parting them even more as he gazed down at your body, unable to fathom that this would be the last time he was going to see you like this.

Your back arched as he began to move again, reigniting the fire that had already built up. A thin sheen of sweat was formulating on Luke’s forehead, his hair sticking to his skin in damp strands. His pale chest was flushed pink and the vein in his neck was protruding as he clenched his teeth, moving his hips forward methodically.

You could feel your muscles begin to tense, your toes curling as your hands frantically searched for something to grab onto. Luke took note of this and reached down, taking both of your hands in his, interlocking your fingers and squeezing. He was breathless, panting as he gazed down at you, the silver antler necklace hanging from his chest in the darkness between you.

“I’m so close, baby,” he admitted, his tenor gravelly, words emitting low from his throat. “Wait it out for me. Want you to cum with me, all right? That okay, baby?”

You nodded rigorously, feeling Luke’s pace begin to slow as his hips started to stutter. Your every sense was on edge, tingling as you felt your high approach you. You squeezed Luke’s hands until your knuckles went white, until you were moaning so loudly that your own voice sounded foreign to your ears.

Luke was in the same condition, blinking slowly as he thrusted in and out of you deeply, making you feel every inch of him with each move he made. He was losing it, his words coming out in low whispers, incoherent and unable to comprehend. You weren’t surprised when he silenced himself by leaning down to leave you a lingering kiss, thrusting forward one final time before speaking against your lips. “I love you,” he mumbled quietly. “Just lie to me.”

And you were trembling, your mind completely erratic and hectic as the pleasure became overbearing. But there was something you wanted to say - you wanted to test the words out on your lips, to see how they tasted, how they would feel against Luke’s tongue, so you said it. You let the three words slip into the air between the two of you, evaporating, but they would never be forgotten.

You told Luke you loved him.

And you weren’t sure if he heard. Part of you thought maybe you just imagined saying it before you were brought to the edge, your hands squeezing Luke’s tightly as the both of you reached your high at the same time, a mess of tangled limbs and soft whimpers in the quiet cab of his truck. But the other part of you was sure that you had confessed your feelings - the ones that you had pushed aside for the entire summer.

You told Luke you loved him, and you weren’t lying. Not anymore.

[cal-puddies]

What’s some of your favorite ash one shots?

So the other night, one of these was put together for rough Ash content, so reference this post for those.

Now, for others:

Religions in your lips

Remember when we couldn’t take the heat

Release - these are all @kindahoping4forever and I.

Sweat by @sadistmichael

Video by @morningfears

New rules by @sadeyes-badguys-whitelies

All day by @5sospank

Change of Scenery and forfeit both by @sexgodashton (Lau is a fuckin genius.)

[calsbabylonn]

Fav smuts ;)))

favorite smuts i’ve read over quite some time :))) [none of these are mine, all credit goes to the rightful owner]

{disclaimer: i’m such a hoe for calum so i have more of calum than any of the other boys oops}

updated ~ 08.26.2020

* = new ones added

CALUM-

wet - by babyloontrash

hard {wet pt.2} - by babyloontrash

loud {wet pt.3} - by babyloontrash

get higher {stoned!cal} - by shot-of-truth

beloved {20 year age gap} - by mutualmv

that red shirt - i-calumhood

the course of true love never did run smooth - i-calumhood

the worst - by babyloontrash

another ride - by babyloontrash

make me yours - stardusttrashed

relax - by smuttyscribbles

relax pt 2 - by smuttyscribbles

louder - by bitchfacecalum

detention {teacher!cal} - by babtaddycal

new seat - by babydaddycal

good girl - by babydaddycal

slutty wedding sex - by cakesunflower

animals - by babyloontrash(’s other acc)

back to you - by 5sospank

plaid - by morningfears // drabble

let me show you - gotta-try-something-new

coffee pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 - gotta-try-something-new

let me be good to you - snapbackcake

boxer!cal -  fayesfairylights // blurb

you watch cal - cal-puddies // blurb  *

cal watches you - cal-puddies // blurb

stoner - morningfears

eleven - babyloontrassh

jealous - by thruheavenandhighwater *

MICHAEL-

kitten - by bitchfacecalum

youporn - by bitchfacecalum

videogames - by bitchfacecalum

nightmare - by bitchfacecalum

christmas - by thruheavenandhighwater *

ASHTON-

all day - by 5sospank

slow - by snapbackcake

valentine’s day - by thruheavenandhighwater *

LUKE-

out of nowhere - by cakesunflower

de-stress - by lukeisbaby // drabble

blue-eyed boy - babyloontrash

halloween - by thruheavenandhighwater * 

THREESOMES +

two in one - by loveontour (cal & luke)

[milogreersleftdresssock]

Shuffle

Thank you for tagging me @softboylu I love you😭❤️

Rules: put your entire music library on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, then list 10 victims

1. Remember Me (Ernesto De La Cruz) from Coco

2. the light is coming (ft. Nicki Minaj) by Ariana Grande

3. We Don’t Have To Take Our Clothes Off by Ella Eyre

4. Catch Fire by 5sos

5. Meet You There by 5sos

6. sweetener by Ariana Grande

7. Super Massive Black Hole by Muse

8. More by 5sos

9. Into You by Ariana Grande

10. Sign of the Times by Harry Styles

There’s cleary a common theme or two here lol.

I tag: @liquid-guyliner @kingdomkeeprs @emotionalnutella @boohooiamthefool @ganggoestohell @derekmerediths @starkthrone @lara-roeschen @the-disco-deaky @5sospank

[alreadymissings]

life and lies ; calum oneshot

sooo this is going to be a lil supernatural-ish?? cal thing i wrote based off of this au. so its filled with angst & its a little sad. it talks about death so if you’re not into that, then this isn’t for you! but if you do read it, i hope you enjoy and come scream to me afterwards (: 

word count: 2,029

His dark eyes never missed anything. He was always observant as a kid, seeing details the other children overlooked. He had a best friend. Her name was Olivia and she had bright, bouncy curls that framed her face. Calum was only five when they first met and inseparable ever since. 

They were playing in the sand box when he felt it - the pang that shot through his heart. It hurt him, a crippling pain that seemed to squeeze all the air from his lungs. At first, he thought it was love. His parents always talked about how love sometimes hurt.

But it only hurt when he looked at her.

Three days went by before Olivia died. She had been playing at her house when the ball bounced into the road and she followed after it. Calum didn’t quite understand the concept of death yet at only five years old. But he knew she wasn’t coming back. And that maybe what he felt three days prior had something to do with it.

 He felt it again at twelve years old. He stepped off the plane with his parents and sister and onto New Zealand turf. They had been going to visit his grandpa who had come down with some kind of illness. His parents said it wasn’t serious, but they still wanted to see him since he was all alone in the hospital.

 The moment Calum stepped through the doorway and saw his grandpa lying in the hospital bed, he felt the pain envelope his heart. Olivia flashed through his mind like the pain in his chest. He took two steps backwards into his sister as he rushed to catch his breath.

 Mali Koa pushed him forward, taking the seat beside her parents next to the bed. Calum couldn’t look at his grandpa for the majority of time he was there. And when he stood in front of his casket at the funeral just a week later, Calum couldn’t bare to look at him either.

 He felt like he was responsible, even though there was nothing he could do to stop his grandpa from dying in his sleep.

 It was only after Calum turned seventeen that he started feeling it all the time. On the train on the way to school, his eyes would glaze over a random stranger and he’d feel his heart clench. He knew the stranger would be dead soon. Walking down the street, he sometimes felt it more than once. He tried to ignore the stabbing pains – he didn’t know these people, yet he knew they would be dead before Monday hit.

 He felt alone in the world of life and death. He didn’t know why he could feel things others couldn’t. He didn’t know why he was cursed with this burden. He closed his eyes even thinking about the day he looked at his mom and would feel the familiar pain – his dad, his sister. Anyone he loved, he’d know when they’d be dead before he could blink.

 He felt alone in the world of life and death until he met her. He had made a habit of watching his feet when he walked anywhere. The less people he saw, the less of a chance there would be to feel the crippling pain in his heart. There was only so much he could take at the tender age of twenty.

 But as it was fate, as he was passing the café, someone had bumped into him, throwing off his balance. “Watch where you’re going,” they had chided him as they passed. Calum regained his balanced, his gaze washing over a table that was situation outside of the coffee shop.

 A single girl was sat at a table, a half-full cup of coffee situated in front of her. Calum thought she was beautiful, and he was thankful that no pain came upon setting eyes on her. He watched as a pair of girls crossed his path, one girl telling a wild story.

 The girl sitting at the table stiffened, her eyes glued to the pair of girls that had passed. Calum looked back to the girls, watching them disappear into the crowd walking on the sidewalk and then back to the girl at the coffee house.

 Somehow, he got the feeling that she wasn’t as normal as she appeared. He knew that look for he wore it many times when he felt someone else’s death. His feet were moving even before he realized it, and he was sitting in front of her before he could even stop himself.

 She looked at him curiously, arching a brow in question though no words had come out of her mouth. Calum licked his dry lips, “you feel it too?”

 -

 She could always tell when someone was lying. By the time the lie was off their tongue, stinging chills would ripple through her body, racing up her arms and into her chest – a warning sign. At first, she hated it. She knew that practically everyone lied, and sometimes, she wouldn’t be worth the truth.

 She felt alone in a world of truth and lies. “I love you,” she had been told, her body told her otherwise.

 She found it difficult to trust people, to build relationships with people when she knew that they lied about the simplest things. She didn’t understand why people needed to lie about what they had for breakfast, or how their night out went. She found it difficult to hold conversations when she knew she could be faced with lies.

 She felt alone in a world of truth and lies until she had met Calum. He had sat down across from her despite him being a complete stranger. And then he asked a question she thought she’d never hear anyone ask – ‘you feel it too?’

 A smile spread across her face upon hearing the simple question – she wasn’t so alone after all. But upon getting to know each other a little more, they found they didn’t exactly feel the same thing after all. But Calum wasn’t as normal as he appeared to be.

 She found that he could feel death. That he could tell when other people were going to die. That he could feel their pain in his heart, and know that by the end of the week they would be dead. She knew he wasn’t lying, for her body sung with a warm glow, free of any electrifying zaps telling her that he wasn’t.

 It felt nice to know that, to Calum, she was worth the truth even five minutes after meeting. So she told him her own story, of how she could tell that people were lying to her. Calum even told her two truths and a lie, things that she had no way of knowing, but she still picked the lie out even before he was finished telling it.

 He hadn’t said anything, and neither did she. But together they felt it – a sense of belonging.

 They had made it a daily occurrence of meeting at the coffee shop, sitting at the same table where they first met. “Did you feel it today?” She’d ask, watching as Calum sifted through the daily newspaper.

 He’d sullenly nod, his dark eyes meeting hers. She liked to think of his eyes as a dark abyss full of unspoken secrets – human eyes that had seen far too much for someone so young.

 And then he was pointing. His finger had landed on a picture of an old man smiling at the camera. It was then that she realized what page he was on. It was the obituaries. “I felt him last week. It was just a small glance, but it cut straight through my heart.”

 “What was his name?” She asked. She had no idea Calum tortured himself this way, looking through the obituaries to see the people he saw – felt, to see how they ultimately died.

 “Lester Smith,” Calum said, still staring down at the page. His eyes were moving slowly over the photos of the elderly. To her surprise, his eyes were devoid of any pity. Instead they were just black holes, to emotion swirling in the dark color of his iris.

 He closed the newspaper, a random article on the front page about a new mall opening up downtown.

 “Why do you do this to yourself, Calum?” She questioned, reaching across the small table to grab at his hand. “Why do you put yourself through more pain?” She asked, her voice small.

 Calum squeezed her hand, his eyes meeting hers. “I just need to know, okay?” He said. “I need to know how they died. I don’t know what it is, but I need to see their faces and know how they died. The pain… the pain doesn’t fully go away until I know.”

 He was chewing on his bottom lip, his eyes dark storm clouds that were brewing silently.

 “Calum…” She started, but he stopped her.

 “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t pity me now. You never have, and this doesn’t change things. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” He said, getting up but leaving the newspaper behind. He didn’t leave time for her to answer before he was stalking away, leaving her with his name on her lips.

 -

 She was waiting in her usual spot the next day. She had ordered her coffee, and one for Calum even though he usually didn’t drink more than a few sips. She had texted him earlier, telling him that she got here a few minutes earlier than she expected. He responded with a single word, and it left her wanting more.

 She hated that she always shut people out. She hated that she was the one person who knew him fully, and he still couldn’t be open with her. He wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t telling the full truth either.

 It was minutes later that Calum had showed up, a maroon beanie pulled over his usually curly hair. Despite the new accessory, something else was different about him. He took his usual seat, the daily newspaper clutched in his hands to the point where his fingers were ghostly white – the paper crumpled at sharp angles and distorting the words printed on the surface.

 “Calum?” She asked. She could tell something was wrong. “Did you feel it again?” He had the look in his eyes, the hopeless, empty look when he felt someone’s death as if he were drowning within himself.

 Calum only stared at her, his fingers still assaulting the newspaper.

 “You’re going to live a long, full life, okay?” He asked, his voice seemingly deeper than its usual tenor.

 Before he was even finished, her body was alive with electric stings that raced through her arms. The static rippled through her shoulders and pierced her heart with a pang.

 He was lying.

 -

 Calum tried to convince himself that what he felt was wrong – a lie. But the moment he laid eyes on her, the pain was erupting in his heart, shredding it to pieces as he stumbled over his own feet. His body never lied.

 And when she didn’t show up the next day for their regular coffee, he knew his body had been right.

 Calum still sat at the table that he met her at, the newspaper spread out in front of him, her face staring up at him in various shades of gray. Her name was printed beside her picture. It had been an aneurysm; it ruptured while she was sleeping.

 He had hoped by telling her that she’d live a long life he’d change the course of her fate, but to no avail. He didn’t go to the funeral; he couldn’t handle the pain that came along with it.

 He thought the pain would go away when he figured out how she died like it did for everyone else he felt, but the ache in his heart remained. And it always would for as long as he lived. It was a silent reminder of the girl who felt things that others couldn’t.

  It was his reminder that he was, once again, alone in the world of life and death.

[hrina]

Desperate {Michael Clifford Smut}

PAIRING: Michael/Y/N RATING: R WORD COUNT: 1600+ REQUESTED: yup!

This obviously isn’t as long as my other one shots, but I’m very proud of it! I liked the way it turned out :) here is some pure, raw fucking for all my fellow Mikey girls! Feedback is very much appreciated!

~*~

“Baby!” Michael called, walking through the front door, “I’m--!”

You cut him off before he had the chance to spew out the cliché line. Immediately, you were there, rushing towards him in only a pair of panties and his green flannel, the material unbuttoned and teasing him with the creases of your bare breasts peeking out. Michael’s words died on his tongue as you threw your arms around his neck, planting a desperate kiss onto his lips. Your fingers played with the collar of his leather jacket as he groaned into your mouth.

“Mike,” you let out a pathetic whimper, and he felt his cock stir in his tight jeans. Reflexively, his arms wrapped around your hips and he groaned again when you pressed your body against him, feeling your breasts squish against his torso.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his breathing uneven when you finally pulled back. You just closed your eyes, shaking your head and reaching behind you to grab his left hand.

“Just need you,” you moaned, guiding his hand past the waistband of your underwear. Michael swore when he felt your silky skin, your pussy slick...almost too wet for his liking. He looked at you with a questioning expression, his brow creased.

“What’s this?” he drawled out. You made a face, letting out an annoyed whine and tilting your head back.

“Was touching myself,” you huffed out, and Michael felt his cock jump and begin to stiffen. He subconsciously began to move his palm back and forth against your dripping pussy, his thumb finding your swollen clit with ease, knowing your body as though it were a map he’d studied for dozens of years. You whimpered, the sound going straight to his cock. Michael swallowed heavily, pinching your clit lightly and watching the way your body twitched.

“Were you?” he asked, giving you a disapproving look, “You know that you’re not supposed to, baby.”

“I know, I know,” you rushed out, a strangled noise echoing in your throat as Michael’s forefinger circled your entrance, “I couldn’t wait though. Need you so bad.”

“Want me to open you up a bit first?” Michael offered, his gaze drifting down to stare at your chest. Impulsively, his right hand came up to yank away the fabric of his flannel, exposing your chest to him. You gasped, and Michael watched in fascination as your nipples immediately began to harden in response to the change in temperature.

“No,” you shook your head vigorously, your fingers finding his jeans and working hastily to unbutton them, “Just need you. Fuck me, please.”

And fuck, you sounded so desperate, already so wrecked. Michael was fully hard by now, his cock twitching within the confines of his boxers as he felt your nimble fingers graze the sparse hair below his navel. He let you pull down his pants, struggling to wrestle them down his legs before they pooled at his ankles and he stepped out of them.

“Where do you want me?” he asked you, pulling his hand out of your panties and practically ripping his boxers off. He kicked the material away, his thick cock slapping up onto his stomach.

You shook your head, letting out yet another pathetic whimper, “I can’t wait. Fuck me here.”

“You want it dirty,” Michael groaned at the realization. He grabbed your thighs, prompting you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. Quickly, he pushed you up against the wall of the front entrance, his head dipping and his lips nipping at your jawline. You whined as his cock rubbed against you through your panties.

“Want me to fuck you?” Michael teased, kissing sloppily up your jaw and biting your earlobe gently, “Want me to take you right here, against the wall?”

“Yes!” you cried out, grasping your husband’s cock and giving him a few halfhearted pumps--he groaned in surprise and pleasure. With your legs still firmly wrapped around his hips, you used your other hand to pull your panties to the side, too rushed to bother with discarding them. Michael took over, slapping your hand out of the way and gripping the base of his cock, guiding himself towards your entrance.

You looked up at him when you felt his tip brush against you; you shot him a pleading look, biting your lips and whispering a vulnerable, “Please.”

Michael nodded, pushing forward; you both let out simultaneous groans as he sunk into you slowly, your head lolling back against the wall as you felt his girth stretching you in a delicious way. Michael swore under his breath as he felt your walls grip him, holding onto his cock tightly and making it difficult for him to move.

“Baby,” he whispered, leaning forward so that your lips brushed together, “Loosen up.”

You nodded, relaxing your muscles. Michael surged forward the rest of the way, bottoming out and jolting your body against the wall. You let out a pornographic moan, and he flicked his dark blue hair away from his eyes, watching you hungrily.

“So desperate,” he grunted, pulling back slowly before ramming back into you, the sudden action jolting you yet again and ripping a yelp from your throat. You gripped onto Michael’s leather jacket--too preoccupied with fucking to bother removing it. The same was true for the flannel you wore, the material slipping off your shoulders with each thrust.

“So needy for me,” Michael snickered, “Greedy girl. You want my cock all the time, huh?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, tilting your head back against the wall. You fought to keep your eyes open, but they fluttered shut every time Michael rammed into you, pushing you up against the hard surface, the pain only adding onto the immense pleasure you felt. Your ankles locked behind Michael’s back, toes curling as you felt the most powerful feeling of lust surge through you.

“My little nympho,” Michael teased, a dark chuckle escaping his lips, “Always wanna be fucked, doesn’t matter where. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes Mikey,” you whimpered, abandoning any resistance and accepting the fact that you were desperate, you were needy, and you were completely alright with that. Your body relaxed, any tension seeping out with each powerful thrust that Michael delivered.

His hips pounded into yours, and you felt a light sheen of sweat coat your hairline and the valley of your breasts. It was proving difficult to maintain eye contact with your husband, your eyes involuntarily falling shut as he speared right into the blissful spot inside of you. Your body twitched against him, and he realized what he’d done, pursing his lips and driving into you with newfound purpose.

“You’re mine, yeah?” Michael muttered, his right hand coming up to knead roughly at your breast, “This sweet little pussy is all mine.”

“All yours, all yours,” you moaned, and Michael broke out into a smug grin. You watched his biceps flex, watched his jugular jump as he swallowed, watched his hips pull back before snapping forward again, creating a beautiful symphony that filled the air.

And suddenly it was all too much. The sound of skin slapping against skin, the taste of sweat and sex, Michael’s faint grunts, his cock curving into you and hitting all the right spots. You inhaled just as Michael buried himself deep inside of you, grinding right against your g-spot.

“I’m coming, I’m co--,” you gasped out before your body dissolved into pleasure. You screamed, your head falling back against the wall and your toes curling in pure pleasure. Michael watched in awe as you twitched, your eyebrows lifting and your lips parting. He felt your walls flutter around his shaft, locking down on him as you came.

Without warning, he slumped forward, nearly crushing you against the wall. A guttural groan flew from his lips as he felt his muscles tense up, his eyes closing. All the pent up tension inside of him exploded, and he entombed his cock right to the hilt, grunting as he felt the first warm spurt of come shoot from his tip.

He waited until he’d emptied himself completely, his chest heaving and his breathing irregular, matching your pace. Languidly, you blinked your eyes open, your irises glassy. Then you smiled at him, letting out a soft giggle, and God, Michael loved you so much.

“Love you too,” you mumbled, and he realized that he’d vocalized his thoughts. You buried your face into his neck, sighing as he gripped the base of his softening cock and pulled out of you swiftly. Michael immediately replaced his cock with his hand, feeling a rush of wetness as his come seeped out of your opening.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” he swore, and you laughed softly.

You reached down, gripping his hand and lifting it to your face, studying his fingers before placing two of them in your mouth, sucking them clean. A shiver ran down Michael’s spine as he felt your tongue swirl around the digits.

“I’m so fucking in love with you,” he marvelled. You released his fingers with a pop, leaning forward and pressing your lips to his. Michael moaned into your mouth as he tasted himself on your tongue.

“I’m gonna get hard again,” he warned you, pulling back and shooting you a stern look. You shrugged, “I could go again. Shower?”

You unwound your legs from around his waist, slipping out of his hold and planting your feet onto the hardwood floor. You shot your husband a wink before turning around, swaying your hips teasingly as you made your way toward the bathroom.

And Michael was left standing there, his lips parted and his cock half-hard, wondering how the hell he’d gotten so lucky.

~*~

Hope you enjoyed it! Feedback is welcome!

[thedreamvevo]

“taylor swift” inspired writings

hey guys!!! so i’ve decided that in the near future i’m going to host a “taylor swift inspired” blurb night. i have one blurb night planned before this one will take place so i expect this to happen in about a months time or so.

that being said, i need time to write pieces for it (because i’m a perfectionist and i want these to be exceptional). if you want to have a say in what songs i write about, you can submit your answers [here] on a google form (no log-in required). 

eventually, i’ll put out another poll to help select which boy to write for each song, but for now i’m just trying to narrow down which songs to do. 

thanks so much!!! xx.

[5sosbang]

Feels Like Home - Calum Hood One Shot

this is for @5sospank and @alreadymissings roommate!5sos blurb night !!!

summary: you’ve sort of always had a thing for your roommate, calum. never thought he’d feel the same, though. (also the other boys r ur roommates too n its a jolly good time) ((((no its not this is full of angst but im a HOE FOR ANGST it has a happy ending tho i promise))))

word count: 7.8k

warning: some swearing + he eats u out l o l

a/n: i...... dont know what this is who am i .................

You can barely remember how it happened. A flyer pinned to a bulletin board, asking --nearly begging-- for a roommate that could move in before the semester started. That was during your first year, and you had quickly made the decision that you did not like dormitories. They were too crowded, and you could often smell weed coming from other rooms to yours. Besides, your roommate was awful, and she barely showered.

You had taken a picture of the fluorescent pink flyer with your phone, and dialled the number as soon as you’d gotten out of your class.

The deep voice that picked up on the other end was not what you were expecting, but whatever. Who cares if you lived with a guy? People in college lived co-ed all the time. No big deal.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, I’m calling about the roommate ad?”

*

Visiting the place was very different from what you expected. First of all, the pantless, vibrant redhead, pale boy, was not what you were expecting.

“Oh, shit. You’re a girl?”

“Um, I think so?” You said, biting your lip nervously as you let out a soft chuckle.

“Fuck. I’m not wearing pants,” The guy said, his cheeks turning almost as red as his hair. Opening the door further, he let you step into the slightly messy living area. “Luke! You didn’t tell us she was a she!”

And, okay. You didn’t know that there would be two of them. You didn’t realize that it would be a ratio of two to one on gender, but, whatever. Two guys isn’t that big of a deal, right?

As the boy walked you further into the apartment, you noticed a few instruments strewn along the carpeted floors. The redhead walked you into a living space, with couches and video game consoles laying on every surface.

There, sat two other boys, one of which you assumed was Luke.

There was a beat of silence as the redhead raised a brow at one of the blonde boy. However, your attention was drawn to the brunette in the corner. He was everything from books; tall, dark, and handsome. You could see a few tattoos on his chest peeking from beneath his shirt, and his rolled up sleeves showed a few on his arms, too. He was gorgeous, with plump lips and skin full of melanin, and these eyes that were just so captivating because of how dark and somber they were, yet how much light they held. His bushy eyebrows were furrowed as he stared back at you.

“Well, Luke, you gonna explain yourself?”

The blonde, Luke, shrugged. “Didn’t see a problem with it. We need a fifth person to make rent, and she’s the only one that called that seemed decent.”

“But she’s a... girl,” Michael said, almost baffled by how nonchalant the blonde was.

“And you’re a boy. Now that we’ve pointed that out, can we get her to keep looking around the apartment?”

“You’re never this sassy. You feeling okay?”

“Michael,” Luke said, placing a name to the colourful boy. “Just show the girl around the goddamn place.”

“No,” The dark haired beauty spoke, the first words he’d said since you walked into the room. 

“Does it make you uncomfortable that I’m a girl?” You said, eyes widening. “Because I totally understand--”

“No, calm down, sunshine,” The darker haired boy laughed. “It’s just that Mikey’s gonna do a shit job of showing you around. I’ll do it.”

“I can do it, Cal--”

“Sit down, Mike,” The boy, Cal, said. “I’ll do it.”

And so, the redhead sat down on the couch next to the blonde boy, staring up at the tan boy.

“Okay,” Michael said. “Okay.”

*******

You can barely remember when it started happening. The slight influx of emotion that fills your stomach whenever you’re around him. It’s honest to god one of the most wonderfully horrible things you’ve ever experienced in your life.

You know that he knows. Or you think he does. You know that the other boys know.

Within the year and a half you’ve been living with the four other boys, you’d gotten quite close. As one would, when spending most of your time together. You’d been there when they nervously played music in front of you (which now they’re not so nervous, and sometimes it coincides with when you’re trying to study. Not appreciated.) You’d been there when Luke sprained his wrist by throwing a basketball badly, which was hilarious. You’d been there when Ashton’s girlfriend had broken up with him due to being at a college three hundred miles away. You’d been there when Michael had accidentally burned off half of his eyebrow. You’d been there when Calum failed one of his midterms and his parents threatened to put him into dorms so that he wouldn’t be distracted by his bandmates.

(And you. His parents had made it very clear that you were also part of the problem.)

So it’s pretty normal that the boys know you like the backs of their hand. You know the same about them. How they always spend Thursdays at Greg’s Grill and order three plates of extra spicy hot wings while watching the game that plays on the tv screen.

Which also means that, due to your little fivesome being so close, they can read you like a book.

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell him that you like him.”

“I don’t like him,” You said, looking at Michael, whom you had become very close to over the past few years. You’d argue that he was one of your best friends, and definitely the person you confided in the most. He was the one you spent most Friday nights with, considering he’d had alcohol poisoning a few weeks back and was too scared to go back out. So, now that the two of you had fallen into this sort of Friday-night movie-night routine, you’d gotten a lot of talking done between the two of you.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and I’m not a boobs guy.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, digging your spoon into the tub of vanilla ice cream that the two of you were sharing during your movie night. 

“I’m sure that Calum feels the same, you know.”

“I don’t like him,” You pointed your spoon at him. “And even if I did, he doesn’t like me. He hooks up with so many girls, I’m sure that he can’t be dragged down by romantic feelings.”

“You sound so bitter,” Michael snorted. “You’re a junior in college, and he’s a senior. He’s gonna live his life. He’s not gonna wait around for you. You shouldn’t, either.”

“I’m not waiting around for him. I’ve had boyfriends since I started living here,” You said, your brows furrowing.

“Yeah, but let’s be real, you weren’t really invested in them. Just like Calum isn’t invested in the girls he hooks up with.”

“We don’t like each other.”

“Whatever you say.”

****

It’s Thursday, nearly a week after your conversation with Michael. It’s also wings night at Greg’s Grill, and three of the four boys have a beer in front of them. Michael is drinking a non-alcohol beer, and you’re drinking some dumb drink that the cute waiter brought over with a wink. Ashton’s on his phone, Luke is ogling the same girl he’s had a crush on since junior year, and Calum is chatting up a waitress. (And you’re not jealous. Nope. Not at all.)

Michael is eyeing you in this sort of “you okay?” look and you want to slap it off his face, because of course you’re okay. This is your roommate. It would be unprofessional for you to be jealous of something as normal as Calum and Reina’s Thursday night flirtings. Almost unethical to be mad, really.

“You know, Sam and I are having a party this weekend, if you guys wanna come,” Reina says. The boys all nod along to her statement, because they’ve never been one to turn down parties. Frankly, you could compare them to the frat boy that you dated in your sophomore year. They were just as bad.

The only one that doesn’t seem keen to the idea is Michael, who is sort of just staring at his beer.

“I dunno, I think I’ve got plans. But the other guys will probably be there,” Michael shrugs.

Reina pouts (and goddamn, how does she look cute even when she’s acting like a baby? What the fuck.) and says, “But Sam really wants to see you, Mike.”

(And if she really knew Michael, she would know that he hates being called Mike and prefers Mikey. It makes you sort of proud that you know little things about your group that she doesn’t know.)

Michael shrugs again. “I dunno. Maybe. Not making any promises.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to work, Rei?” Ashton says, glancing your way. You’ve been awfully quiet this entire time, and it isn’t like you to just be silent throughout an entire conversation.

Reina checks her watch, then flattens her apron with her hands. “Yeah. I get off in an hour. Maybe we can catch up then, yeah?”

There’s a hum of agreement that passes over your table, but all you do is take a sip of your drink.

When the girl leaves, Michael squeezes your hand. You roll your eyes at him, but smile gently anyway. Michael is a very fragile boy, despite his efforts to come off as someone who doesn’t care about anything. You know that being malicious towards him, just because you’re in a bad mood because of a certain waitress, will only make both of you feel bad.

However, your hand holding does not slip past the Maori boy sitting in the corner. His eyes can’t seem to leave the space where your hands are interlaced.

“Hey,” Ashton says, drawing your attention to the blonde, shaggy haired boy. “You okay?”

“M’fine, why?” You question.

“You just got real quiet. S’not like you to not input in the conversation, ya know?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Nothing’s wrong, if that’s what you’re asking. Just tired, I guess.”

Michael pulls you into his chest dramatically, stroking your hair harshly.

“Oh, my poor, poor baby!” He fake-sobs with a posh accent.

You pull away from him, fixing your hair while muttering fucker under your breath, but the smile that graces your face is still very present.

The table has some sort of tension as a beat of silence passes over, and you can’t really place it. Luke hasn’t been talking either, but you know that it’s because he’s ogling Juliette, the girl in his creative writing class. Ashton is stuck on his phone again, and Calum is nursing his beer while just... watching you and Michael.

"You okay, Cal?" Mikey (not Mike) asks the brunette. Michael’s arm makes its way to the back of your chair and around your shoulders. Calum eyes the two of you, coughing. 

"Yeah, 'course. Just tired, I think."

"Maybe you should ask for a few days off from work," You say, the worriedness in your tone loud and clear. It's something that's sort of reserved for Calum; that caringness that is just a touch stronger than how it is for the other boys.

Calum clears his throat, and his eyes glance to Michael's arm again before he meets your gaze."No, I just got a bad night's sleep yesterday."

"Yeah, but I'm sure that working the graveyard shift at the radio station doesn't help," You frown.

"It's fine," Calum says harshly, breathing in deeply to try and even his tone. "Sorry, I'm just..."

"Tired?" Michael supplies, raising a brow, obviously not believing the younger boy.

Calum glares at the redhead, and it’s not unusual for the boys to fight. It is, however, unusual for it to build up so quickly. Michael and Calum had been friends the longest, and they’d managed to annoy each other throughout their years of friendship. It was a slow build up, where Michael would forget to wash the dishes one too many times before Calum talked to him about it. But you’d seen them laughing and joking around just a few minutes ago-- this was weird.

“I think I’m gonna drive to San Francisco tonight,” Ashton announces to the group, unaware of the tension due to his focus on his phone. 

“What?” Luke asks the oldest, his tone surprised and slightly muffled due to the food in his mouth.

“I’ve been talking to Bry, and I just... I dunno. I love her a lot, and she says that she wants to talk.”

“Dude, what the fuck,” Michael says. “She broke up with you. Over the phone. Over a text.”

“Yeah, but she’s just... I think she wants to get back together, and you know that I can’t just drop that. I’ll always care about her.”

“So? Just sleep on it. Take a night to think this over. I mean, do you really want to get back together with her?”

He shrugs. “I’m a senior in college. Next year, I’ll be working, hopefully. And San Francisco has a good job market. I wouldn’t mind moving there for her.”

“I thought we were all still gonna live together after you graduate,” Luke pouts. Luke, being the only junior other than you at the table, is obviously still going to be living near the college. You’d had the same thought process; it didn’t make sense to you that in just six short months, three out of the five of you would have degrees.

Ashton shrugs. “That was the plan, but I-- If this works out, I’m gonna make it work. Nothing here is keeping me here, you know? Other than you guys, nothing about this place is all that important.”

“Yeah, but we’re four people. And she’s one.”

“Have any of you ever given me an orgasm?” Ashton says with an eyebrow raised.

“I mean, it’s not like I haven’t offered,” Michael jokes. “Besides, I’m sure Y/N would take one for the team.”

“Uh, no, I would not. Sorry Ash, but I’m not willing to have your dick in my mouth,” You snort, taking a sip of your drink. You think it’s a sangria, but you can’t really remember.

“I’m going home,” Calum says, grabbing his keys off the table. You realize that he hasn’t said a word in a while, and your worry comes back.

“I’m coming with you,” You say, looking up at him as he sits up from his seat. You figure that he’s upset about the Ashton situation, and you want to comfort him. It’s just in your nature to care about the boy you might have a teeny, tiniest crush on. 

“I don’t have an extra helmet,” Calum grunts, already halfway packed up.

“I don’t care,” You say. “Drive slow.”

Calum rolls his eyes, but you’re already putting your coat on. You look down at Michael, and he nods at you. You smile at him, and then you’re off.

“Good luck, Ash!” You yell back, already at the door of the dingy bar.

Calum walks off in front of you, his foggy breath fanning in front of him. Mid-January in California doesn’t really do much, but it does get slightly cold at night. It’s nearly eleven PM, and you’re buzzing nervously inside.

Calum hooks one leg over his motorcycle, which he’d gotten in his sophomore year, while you’d been a sophomore. Back then, you’d only been living together for a few months, and you still weren’t completely comfortable around him or any of the other boys. Then, you’d gotten close, and you can’t count how many times you’ve ridden his bike now.

Calum passes you his helmet, and you shake your head.

“Put the goddamn helmet on. I’m not going to put your life in danger,” Calum rolls his eyes. He slips on a pair of goggles over his eyes so that the wind doesn’t irritate them.

“You look cute with those on,” You giggle. He doesn’t say anything, just purses his lips tightly. Normally, he’d reply with a comment of the same kin, because you’ve always had this sort of flirty relationship. But nothing about this night seems to be normal, so.

He revs the engine as you sit behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. You can feel the outline of his muscles through his shirt and leather jacket. He’s never had a six pack, and the high amounts of beer that he’s consumed has definitely started taking a toll, but you sort of love it anyway. It suits him; that little pudgy belly has always been one of your favourite things about him.

He drives out of the parking lot as you tie the helmet with one hand, the other hooked around him.

He’s driving slowly, not very slow, but slower than usual. Which isn’t very slow at all, considering he drives like a maniac.

You can tell that he’s angry by the tension in his body. His stomach is tense, and so is his back. He’s always been loose and comfortable around you, and how he was acting tonight... there was obviously something wrong. And it killed you that you didn’t know what it was.

As soon as you pull into your apartment building’s parking lot, Calum unhooks your arms from his torso and gets off his bike, storming into your place.

You sigh as you take off the helmet, staring at his retreating figure. You lived in a duplex, and the neighbours were rarely there, but still. If they were, you figured they wouldn’t appreciate Angry Calum. 

You walk into the apartment, and already you can smell the smoke coming from Calum’s room.

You walk down the hallway, ignoring the instruments that litter the floor and the pairs of boxers that are hanging on doorknobs. Without knocking (because really, everyone in this house has seen each other naked at least once) you walk into Calum’s room.

There, sitting on his window sill, you see an angel. With tattoos that cover his chest and arms, and melanin-full skin, a cigarette perched between his index and middle finger. He inhales deeply, clouds of smoke puffing out from his thick lips into the void of the night.

He looks beautiful. 

“Calum,” You say, interrupting the silence. He doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch or wince or anything. Doesn’t even react. You’d think he was dead if it wasn’t for his smoky breath.

“Calum, what’s wrong?” You say, shivering slightly from the cold air coming in through the open window.

“You know,” He starts, and you can tell that he’s going to be ignoring the question. “I used to think, well, I can do that someday. I can this another day. I’ll just wait this one out. And lately I’ve been realizing that by doing that, I’m just putting my life on hold. I want a life that makes my soul dance in my body. Everything that I’m not doing right now, like buying a pool table or going on vacation, I might never be able to do. I might just die one day, and I’d have never gone to Bali or Thailand or anywhere that I’ve wanted to go. I might never do the things that I want to do. I’m procrastinating life.”

“Well, if you stop smoking, your chances of just dying will minimize,” You joke, but it’s sort of just lost in the wind.

You sit in front of him on the window sill, your foot on the white trim of the window. You’ve each got one leg outside, and it’s sort of nice, really. Even though you know that Calum is just chain smoking out of anger, and the tension is still there, but it’s weird-- how nice it is.

“I don’t want you to be dating Michael,” Calum mumbles. You barely hear it, and you wonder, for a moment, if he even said it at all.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m not dating Michael.”

“Okay.”

“Calum.”

“What?”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that. Stop being so short with me. We’ve never done it before, let’s not start now.”

He purses his lips and brings a cigarette up to them, sucking in gently. He lets go and your eyes linger on his plump lips. “Do you remember that time that I walked in on you in the shower, and you were singing some stupid Top 100 pop song, and I started singing along?”

“Yeah, you scared the shit out of me,” You snort.

“That’s how you make me feel.”

The crease between your eyebrows tightens, and you look at the brown boy intensely. “What?”

“You scare the living shit out of me, Y/N. Everything you do makes me feel things and I’m a fucking senior in college and I’ve never felt this way. How pathetic is that? I don’t know how to react to a girl I have a crush on,” He laughs humorlessly, not meeting your eyes and sucking on his cigarette for a long time. Probably too long, really.

“You have a crush on me?” You question, sort of not believing him. Isn’t that something that only happens in books and movies and shit like that? That the person you’ve been crushing on likes you just as much as you like them?

For the first time since you left the bar, Calum looks at you. His amber eyes are red from his cigs and how late it is. His hair is dishevelled from how much he’s run his hands through it. He looks beautiful.

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

“I’m gonna kiss you.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea--”

“Just shut up,” He says, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. He tastes like smoke and wonder and your hands grip his t-shirt between your fingers and holy shit, you’re kissing Calum.  

******

You haven’t really talked about it since it happened. And it’s not like you’re not thinking about it, because you don’t think you’ve stopped thinking about it.

“What are you reading?”

You look up at Michael from your seat on the couch, and you didn’t even hear him walk in.

“Nothing,” You snap the book closed. “What’s up?”

Michael raises a brow at you. “Anything you wanna say?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “No? I don’t think so? Oh, God, did I forget a birthday--”

“No, you didn’t.” He rolls his eyes. “But you did forget to mention that you made out with our roommate.”

You blush deeply, heat coming up to your cheeks. “I didn’t.”

“Calum told me it was practically like you guys were having sex!”

“He what?! It was just a kiss!”

“Ha! I knew it.”

“Oh, for fucks sake,” You groan. “Fine. Yes, we kissed. It was nothing, though.”

“When’s the wedding?”

You roll your eyes.

“Seriously, though, why’d you not tell me about it?” He says, sitting on the couch next to you. He leans his head on his hand, playing with the tips of his hair (which is now a bright pink).

“I dunno. I think I just didn’t want it to be... real? Because then I’d have to face the fact that Calum and I aren’t anything, y’know? Cos he hasn’t talked to me about it since, and it’s like... I don’t know. It just sucks, because I thought that he would do something? I don’t know why I thought that. I don’t know.”

Michael frowns, creases coming on the edges of his mouth.

“Just... don’t lose hope with him, okay? He really likes you. Trust me. Just don’t give up on him.”

*******

You sort of feel like it’s ironic, really. As soon as you finally figure out your feelings for Calum, he just stops talking to you. It’s not like he can just ignore you. You live in the same apartment, for God’s sake. It’s just that he’s not talking to you. Like, yeah, he’ll say hey in the morning, or can you pass me the remote, but other than that, you aren’t really talking.

And it’s seriously pissing you off.

So, you’re gonna do something about it. 

“Calum!” You scream, walking into the living room. You can’t even see the other three boys in the room. All you see is him. You walk right up to him and hit his chest with your finger.

“What?” He asks dumbly. 

“Don’t what me. We’re talking. Right now. Right here. Why the fuck would you just kiss me and then stop talking to me. Like, what the fuck is up with that?”

“Wait, you guys kissed?” You hear Luke, but you don’t register what he’s saying.

“And, let’s not forget the fact that I’m out here looking like an idiot because you can’t make up your mind. Like, Jesus Christ. Are you gonna talk to me about it so that we can figure out what’s going on between us or are we’re just not gonna do anything about that stupid kiss?!”

Calum rolls his eyes. “You’re really impatient.”

“What?”

He answer by stepping closer to you, pressing his lips to yours for the second time, and though you don’t want to give in-- you melt completely. The fiery anger melts away into a puddle and you lean into him, kissing him deeply.

He pulls away slightly, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks, his hands on your neck.

“I was gonna take you out to this dinner, and I know it’s not a lot but I’m also a college kid and I’m broke,” He chuckles. “And I was gonna take you on my motorcycle and we were gonna drive to this place that I found and-- oh God, you’d love it. It’s perfect. It’s like, a field and it’s sort of empty and there’s this tree and we were gonna lay on it and I already have a blanket in my backpack...” He trails off, and you sort of feel bad for yelling at him because that sounds absolutely amazing.

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks, so instead of saying anything, you kiss him again.

****

You do make it to the date. Calum takes you out of one of your classes, begging you to skip the day. And yeah, it isn’t really a surprise anymore, but you think that it’s still as romantic as it would be if you didn’t know what was going on.

“This is actually really tasty,” Calum mumbles, digging into his waffles. Unsurprisingly, the dinner that he’d been talking about was a 24hr breakfast place, and it is really tasty.

“I still think that pancakes are better than waffles,” You point your fork at him.

“I will literally take this argument to my grave,” He says through a mouthful of waffles, and you snort at him.

“Pig,” You say.

He grins widely. “You love it.”

You roll your eyes, digging back into your pancakes. Once you’re done, you look up at your almost boyfriend. He sort of is your boyfriend, honestly. You guys have been enjoying high amounts of PDA around the apartment, and you had been acting coupley all week leading up to this date.

You think that holding Calum’s hand might be the most heavenly thing ever.

(Next to kissing him, obviously.)

“Okay,” Calum says, swallowing down his mouth of waffles and wiping his hands on a napkin. “Let’s go.”

Calum stands up and holds his hand out to you, which you gladly accept. You stand up, the jeans your wearing stretching over the canvas of your thighs.

You walk out hand in hand, but before you can get the helmet from Calum’s bike onto your head, you feel his hand on your ass.

You turn to the Maori boy, an eyebrow raised. 

“Excuse me?”

He grins at you, pulls you close and holds you in his arms.

“You’re just irresistible, babe.” He says, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. Your arms go around his neck, fingers pulling at the hair on the nape of his neck. His hands roam to your ass and you smile into the kiss.

“I really like you, Cal,” You say once the kiss ends.

He grins. “I really like you, too.”

“Let’s go, then,” You smile.

*****

You can’t remember how long you’ve been there; it must have been hours. It must have. You’re lying with your head on Calum’s stomach, his shirt riding up as he plays with your hair.

“And then Michael was just like, oh fuck, did I just burn my hair out of my head?! and we all laughed really hard,” Calum chuckles as you giggle at his story about Michael dying his hair for the first time.

“Hey, Calum?” You say after a beat of silence.

“Hmm?”

“Can you tell me about your tattoos?”

“Um,” He hesitates, his body tensing before it relaxes again. “I guess. I don’t know where to start, though.”

“This one,” You point to the bird with the name Mali-Koa under the drawing. It’s beautiful, and you think that it might be your favourite one he has.

“It’s for my sister,” He answers, shivering as you trace over it with your nail.

“And this one?” You ask, gripping his hand in yours and kissing the initials by the knuckle of his index finger. 

“My mum’s initials. Got my dad’s on this hand, see?” He points out the other ink on his hand, and you kiss that one, too.

“You’re very family oriented,” You point out.

He hums, intertwining your fingers together.

“Maybe you could be part of my tattoos one day, yeah?”

And though he doesn’t say the exact word, you know what he means. You could be permanent.

You could be family.

****

Maybe you should take the PDA to a minimum, but, really, who is that benefitting?

(Other than everyone outside of your relationship. But that’s irrelevant.)

It’s Thursday, and you’re sitting on next to Calum, nearly on his lap, while the other three boys are sitting around the table. You’ve gotten the occasional kissy faces thrown your way during the month that you and Calum had made it official, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. The loud noise from the bar isn’t really all that bothersome, other than when a team scores a point and there’s a loud wave of disappointment that makes it’s way through the entire room. Still, it’s nice, and it’s familiar. And you love it a lot.

“I don’t know why anyone thinks that The Clone Wars was anything other than a piece of shit. Besides, how are you gonna cartoon Harrison Ford, like, what the fuck?”

“You guys are such nerds,” You mumble, taking a sip of the sangria that a waiter had broughten, despite the fact that you’re obviously taken. You play with the necklace around your neck that Calum had given you earlier on in the day as a one-month anniversary gift. You obviously thought it was stupid; it was one month. Barely a dent in a year. Nothing to really celebrate.

“Hey, I’m not,” Calum pouts, his chin on your shoulder. “Just those three.”

“Wow, as soon as you get a girlfriend you just throw us under the bus? I see how it is,” Michael says in a jokingly offended tone.

Calum sends him the middle finger while you roll your eyes, turning to your boyfriend and giving him a peck on the lips. His hand goes to your neck and pulls you in again, smiling into the kiss while the other boys make vomiting noises.

“Hey, guys,” Reina, your usual waitress, comes to the table. You roll your eyes for a second time, but it’s mostly out of jealousy. She and Calum had had a flirty relationship, and though he’s told you on more than one occasion that nothing happened, it stills causes a little pit of covetousness to drill in your stomach.

“Hey, Rei,” Ashton says, looking away from his phone. He’d gone to see Bry a month ago and they’d decided to try again, and since he’s been glued to his phone. You actually saw on his calendar his count down till he saw her again. It was adorable.

The rest of the boys acknowledge the waitress while you sip on your drink, looking down at the menu. You know what you’re going to have; it’s what you always have. It’s sort of a staple for you.

She takes out her notepad, even though she knows what everyone is having.

She looks up expectantly at the table while everyone rattles off their orders, and then she turns to Calum.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” She says, pointedly ignoring you.

Your grip on his bicep tightens and he raises a brow.

“Is it important?”

“Sort of,” She says, glancing at you for a second before her gaze fixes back on the Maori boy.

Almost as if he senses your distaste for her, Calum proudly announces, “Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of everyone.”

Reina rolls her eyes and huffs. “Fine, whatever. Just wanted to let you know that your sweater is still at my apartment, and you might want to pick up the box of condoms you left there, too.”

And, okay. Not what you were expecting. Like, at all.

Your grip on Calum loosens and you feel your face sag, while he tenses up.

“What?” You whisper.

You can see Reina looking at you with a sad expression, and it annoys the fuck out of you because you don’t want her fucking pity, okay? You don’t. At all.

You start putting on your jacket while Calum mumbles something to Reina that you can’t hear because your brain is buzzing so intensely and you can hear Michael asking you to wait and you see Luke and Ashton looking at you with pity and fuck why the fuck is everyone looking at you like that?

You stand up and grab your car keys, moving out and away from the table and you can hear Calum call your name but it’s fucking useless because all you’re thinking about it him and Reina fucking over and over again and it hurts it hurts it hurts oh my god why does it hurt so much what the fuck?

You walk out of the bar and you can hear Calum running after you but you’re already halfway to your car when you feel his hand against your arm.

You rip your arm out of his grasp and look at him with tears in your eyes and you can’t believe you ever trusted him.

“Y/N, listen to me--”

“What? You couldn’t give up hooking up with people? Couldn’t be committed to one person for a fucking month? You’re pathetic, Calum. Really,” You’re trying to sound angry and harsh but the watery tone coming out of your mouth just sounds... wrong. “I’m so fucking mad at you, don’t touch me.”

“We weren’t even together!” He calls out when you turn to your car.

You turn back to him slowly, your hand coming up to wipe the tears from your eyes.

“Was it before or after we kissed?” You say, and you watch as his face falls. He stays quiet. “Answer me! Was it before or after that fucking kiss?!”

“After,” He whispers, and you can see tears falling from his eyes. He doesn’t bother wiping them away. It’s a sad sight. The kind of sadness that, no matter how many happy things you see afterwards, never really leaves. 

You start to say something before you close your mouth, completely drained. It’s over. You can’t fight this. You’re tired and you don’t want to. You turn back to your car and open the driver’s door, getting inside and watching him from your rearview mirror.

The last thing you see before you drive off is him, standing alone in that parking lot, crying into his hands. 

****

You spend the next week avoiding him completely. You’ve even looked for a new apartment, but you’re too broke to move out, and nobody is taking anyone in mid-term.

“You know,” Michael says as he comes into your room without knocking (which had gotten him in trouble a few times when you were dating Calum, but now all he walked in on was you sobbing into some Ben and Jerry’s) “This is actually really sad to watch.”

“Tell me about it,” You say, moving over on your bed to let the pink-haired boy into it. “It’s even more sad to feel.”

“The guys are all on your side, you know. You don’t have to hide in here. Calum’s barely here anyway.”

“Yeah, he’s probably off fucking Reina,” You say, her name coming out like a disease. 

“I’m not defending him or anything, but like, you guys weren’t even together when they did stuff. He only screwed around with her when you guys weren’t talking for like a week.”

“So? I didn’t do anything that week. It was a week, and we had kissed before.”

“And you’re obviously a better person than he is. It’s never been a question, but... I don’t know. Did you listen to his show last night?”

You shake your head. You avoided his radio show like the plague, but now you were wondering what had happened last night.

“It was really sad. He kept, like, dedicating songs to you. It was sort of passive aggressive but he was just playing a bunch of Catfish And The Bottlemen and saying that he fucked up. The boys and I listened to it and we were sort of shocked that he could be that deep.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “Why are you telling me this?”

Michael puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Because I want my best friends to be happy again.”

****

Another week goes by, and you start to feel like you should just get it over with. It’s Wednesday, and Calum’s show is playing tonight at midnight. You want to tune in, but you’re sort of scared to.

So, instead of doing it alone, you’re sitting with two of the four boys you live with. One is actually doing the radio show, and one is up in San Francisco seeing his girlfriend.

Originally, you had planned to skip listening to Calum’s show again, but the other two boys had dragged you out of bed and forced you to sit in the kitchen with them, where the only radio any of you owned that wasn’t in a car was.

“I don’t want to do this,” You mumble, tugging your blanket closer around your body.

“Well, suck it up,” Luke says harshly. “’Cos you have to.”

The clock on the microwave skips from 11:59PM to 00:00AM and you feel something tightening in your stomach. It’s a mix of nerves and anxiety and it causes your whole body to go rigid.

The song that was playing from the previous radio announcer comes to an end, and you hear the voice you’ve been dreading to hear for the past two weeks.

“Hey, I’m Calum, and this is Midnight Madness.” His voice sends a shiver through your spine, but it’s warm and familiar, albeit a little more tired than usual. He had the type of voice that could make anyone do anything; if he told you that death was beautiful, you’d wait to be struck by lighting.

The radio crackles again with his voice, and you swear you could listen to him talk forever. You remember sleeping in the same bed while he told you stories, falling asleep and feeling like you’d never wake up.

“This song makes me really sad, but it reminds me of someone that I lost who means a lot to me. Sorry I fucked up,” And you swear that he’s gonna get in trouble for swearing on air, but what the hell. “This is Homesick, by Catfish And The Bottlemen.”

The song kicks in, and it’s like... what the fuck. It’s a song that you’ve heard a million times (he played it a lot in your car, and you can still vividly remember him singing along to it loudly and laughing, crinkles by his eyes as you both laughed) but the emotional truck that hits you is nearly killing you, and you don’t realize until the song is over and Luke and Mikey are asking you if you’re okay that you had started crying.

“Yeah,” You say, wiping away the tears that had pooled on your cheeks. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

*****

The boys went to bed a long time ago, but you’re still up, sitting on the couch. You can’t really sleep, honestly. You’re restless.

You hear the lock click, and your heart starts beating a million miles a minute. Ashton’s staying with Bry tonight, and you know that he’s not coming home. The only person to come home is the one you’re most nervous about.

(Unless it’s a burglar. In which case, at least you can put off talking to Calum.)

You can hear him shuffling to get his coat and shoes off, and you hear him mumble fuck under his breath when he nearly falls and chuckle at his inability to stay balanced.

“Hey,” He says when he sees you in the living room, sitting with a cup of tea in your hands and a blanket over your shoulders.

“Hey,” You say, your throat tight.

“What... what are you doing awake?”

“I heard your show tonight,” You breathe, and you feel like the weight of the world is crushing your chest. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

He purses his lips and nods. “I, uh, I didn’t know you were listening.”

“I wasn’t going to,” You shrug. “But Mikey and Luke made me.”

“Oh,” He says dumbly. “Um, do you want to-- do you want to talk?”

“I think that would be good, yeah,” You say, scooching over on the couch and motioning for him to sit next to you. 

He hesitates for a second before he joins you, biting his lip and looking at you with wide eyes. 

“Michael told me some stuff about...” You swallow down the lump in your throat. “You and Reina.”

He winces. “I just... we weren’t together, and I don’t--”

“You told me nothing happened between the two of you, Calum. That was a lie. I don’t want a relationship built on lies.”

“I know, I know. And I’m sorry for that. But, to me, it didn’t really matter. Because I didn’t care about her. Not like I care about you.”

You close your eyes and breathe in deeply. “I don’t know what to think anymore, honestly.”

“I need to tell you something,” He mumbles, and you brace yourself for the worst.

“What?” You say, your voice dry.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You nearly choke on your own saliva, looking up at Calum with your eyes blown.

“Don’t say it just because you want to get back together--”

“I’m not, I promise I’m not. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. Nobody makes me feel like you do, Y/N. Nobody makes me wanna be better other than you. I’ve never felt like this with anyone and it scares the fucking hell out of me. I don’t know the first thing about love or relationships or anything like that. But I do know one thing,” He grips your hands in his. “You make me feel so intensely. Like, when it’s about you, I feel everything a thousand times stronger. I feel happy when I’m with you, but it’s a different kind of happy. It’s like... it’s like something out of a movie, you know? And when I’m not with you... I feel horrible. It’s awful, honestly. I’ve never felt so fucking bad, and I’ve been on the bridge of breaking for the past two weeks and it kills me. And I don’t understand anything. All I know is... I love you. And you don’t have to say it back because--”

“Kiss me,” You interrupt.

“What?”

Instead of answering, you lean forward and press your lips to his. It’s the best feeling. 

It feels like coming home.

His hands go to your waist, yours go to his hair and it’s feverish but slow at the same time and it’s messy but wonderful and you can feel your heart in your chest.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” He says it again and again. “I love you so much it hurts.”

“P-please,” You say, and you know that he knows what you want.

“Okay,” He says quickly, and he stands up and pulls you with him and jesus christ, did it get hot in here? 

You both fumble to your bedroom, and he reaches for the doorknob with his eyes closed and his lips on yours and misses a few times but when he does get it he pushes you into the room and onto your bed and climbs over you and holy shit holy shit holy shit.

It’s not like you’ve never done anything sexual, because you have. You just haven’t with Calum, and his fingers feel amazing pressing into your hips. You can feel everything so intensely, like a fire burning. You gasp as his fingers press down onto you, cupping your lower half over your pyjamas.

“Is this okay?” He breathes out, and his voice sounds so fucking wrecked and it might have to do with how late it is but you don’t care because he sounds amazing.

You nod eagerly and watch as his fingers hook around the waistband of you pyjama shorts and pull them down slowly. He looks up at you with a teasing smile and you groan loudly.

His mouth lowers down to your core and you aren’t expecting it, but when you feel his supple lips against the heat of your body you don’t really mind. His tongue flicks over your clit once, twice, three times as his fingers work on you. It feels incredible, and you don’t want to lose that feeling ever.

“You taste so fucking good,” He mumbles, the vibrations going straight through you. You moan in reply, feeling the coolness of his breath against your core.

He finds a nice, middle speed with his fingers that works wonders against your body. His tongue flicks out and laps up the wetness from your body.

You moan, your fingers going down to his hair and tugging on the roots of it. He groans against you, and you can feel him through your entire body and holy fuck does he feel good. 

“Oh, my God,” You say when his fingers brush a particularly sensitive spot. “Do that again.”

“This?” He says, doing the same thing. Your back arches into him and you moan loudly.

“Yes, Calum, oh my God please do that again I’m so close holy fuck--”

He repeats the action a few times, and the pulsating in your stomach increases. You can feel your orgasm about to surface, like a wave crashing in the ocean. It feels so fucking good, Jesus Christ.

His tongue flattens over you and he uses his thumb against your clit to press down harshly, and you’re done for. You really are. You feel the fire in your stomach expand over your whole body as you heat up, and you arch even further into Calum’s mouth. It feel so overwhelming, and you can’t take it.

It takes you nearly thirty seconds to come down from your high, and when you do, you notice Calum’s hard on.

“Do you,” You pant. “Do you want me to--?”

“No,” He replies. “It’s okay. Another time. I mean, if there is another time, I’m not just assuming that you’re going to--”

You roll your eyes. “Just hold me, asshole.”

He grins at you, his mouth and chin still glistening from your wetness. He takes off his shirt and jeans, but leaves on his boxers. As he lays down beside you, you turn on your side and feel him spoon you. You can feel his hard on on the back of your thigh, but he’s choosing to ignore it, so you are, too.

“I love you, by the way,” You mumble, already feeling the tiredness coming over you from your orgasm.

“I love you, too,” He says, and you can feel the grin in his voice. The heat of his body presses against yours, a feeling you welcome. He presses a kiss to your shoulder blade. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

“I know.” And you don’t know if Calum is good for you, or bad for you, but you do know that you love him. So much. Probably too much. “I think it’s just trying to escape.”

----------------------

TELL ME WHAT U THOUGHT YAY

[puckerupmikey]

"I just think it’s unnecessary” Michael whines. “As long as the load comes out clean, I’ve done my job. What’s the point?”

“It’ll smell nicer” you defend.

It is kind of a pointless argument. Completely pointless, actually. You are Michael’s roommate after all, not his mother. It’s really not any of your business how he does his laundry. His clothes, his sheets, his decision. Even then, it bugged you. How could he live like that? How could he possibly go about his day to day life, wearing clothes and sleeping in sheets that weren’t washed with softener? He obviously didn’t know it’s magic.

“Come on Mikey, just try it.”

“No, I don’t want my stuff smelling all flowery or fruity.”

“Pleeeease?” 

You’re begging now, and with no remorse. Begging is quite the effective tactic when it comes to Michael. Despite him pretending to be annoyed at your quirks or peculiar (often stubborn) ways of doing things, he loves it. He loves the way you add change to his life. He loves how you two end up play-fighting over the most mundane things, like which milk to buy or where to put the cups in the cupboards. And although he doesn’t admit it, he knows you end up being right 99% of the time.

“Fine” he groans. “If it’ll get you to stop nagging, then add your stupid softener.”

“Yay!” You ruffle his hair, something he didn’t let many others do, before skipping off to the laundry room.

An hour and a half later, you return to Michael’s room with his freshly washed and dried bed sheets. He’s in the middle of another round of gaming but you dump the warm linen on him anyways.

“Holy shit” he says, sticking his face into the sheets and rubbing them all over his cheeks. With a long inhale, he breathes in the spring meadow as if he’d been suffocating his whole life until now. Like getting your smell back after a cold. “What is this? It’s like heaven. Did you throw a bunny in the wash or something?”

“See? Told ya you’d like it.”

“Yeah, yeah. You were right. You’re always right” he mimics, taking the words from your mouth.

The widest grin stretches across Michael’s face as he pops two arms out from under the sheets and grabs your waist. In one swift tug, he pulls you down into his lap, enveloping you into the mountain of linen. You’re left giggling and trying to escape his grip. 

While he finally admitted you were right, what he didn’t say was that you were the softener to his life. 

For @alreadymissings and @5sospank‘s roommate blurb night!

[adorableashtin]

roommate!michael constantly changing the wifi password to the most ridiculous things and when you come home from work you really need to get some stuff for your classes done and storm into his room: “MICHAEL WHAT IS THE PASSWORD!!!” He looks up from his laptop and smirks at you, shrugging and you grab the closest object to throw at him. He ducks to avoid the collision with some AA batteries: “Hey! What the fuck?!”, he cackles while shielding his face with his arms. “I have homework to do! Tell me the damn password, Clifford”, you say glaring at him. “Oh, last names now?” He asks sheepishly while starting to type away on his laptop again. You take a deep breath…: “I’m serious.” He looks up at you, still standing in his doorframe, staring at him with you’re eyebrows furrowed. “Guess!”, he grins, putting his computer away and sitting up. You feel like a child that doesn’t get the cookies it wants when you stump your foot and groan desperately: “I don’t fucking know. Balls?” - “Haha, nope I don’t repeat passwords, babe.” You begin to pout because maybe that’ll help. “I don’t know, Michael. I give up. Please tell me??” Your stupid roommate starts playing with his fringe instead while shaking his head: “You haven’t even tried yet, come on!” You throw some other curse words at him, obviously only to guess the password but he keeps shaking his head and giggling at your growing desperation. “I tell you what”, he begins, “What about the password?”, you interrupt although you don’t expect to get into the wifi anymore tonight. Michael is still grinning, having the time of his life while he gets up and walks towards you. “I’ll tell you the wifi password if you finally watch The Walking Dead with me!” You look up at him: “Are you seriously asking me to Netflix and Chill in exchange for a password?” Michael chuckles and grabs your shoulders, pulling you into a hug. “You’re so busy all day, these password conversations are the only way I still get to talk to you”, he mumbles into your neck. And okay, that was too adorable to resist.

for @5sospank and @alreadymissings roommate!5sos blurb night :-)

[5sospank]

Complete Masterlist - 5sospank

All Writing

All Smut

All Angst

CALUM ONE SHOTS

Strong

Word Count: 4,178

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: smut, au

Summary: You’re Calum’s biggest fan, and at every one of his boxing matches, you can be found front row. No matter a win or a loss, you’re always there when the lights go off and the ring clears. When his toughest match doesn’t go so well, you spend the night trying to nurse Calum’s bruised ego.

Clean

Word count: 6,883

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: smut, songfic, angst

Request: “do you think you could write a calum smut where he lives across the street but you never really talked to him but then you guys get really close because you drive him home from a party or something and you just go to each other’s houses in the middle of the night” - Anonymous

Back To You

Word Count: 6,550

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: angst, smut, fluff

Summary: You and Calum parted ways. However, the temptation rises when he picks up the phone and reminds you of your history.

Minimalism

Word Count: 5,210

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: angst, au, smut

Request: “can you do one about Calum where it’s like a one night stand (you know each other and just fucked bc you were high and in the mood) not intimate but then the next morning you wake up together and Calum is amazed bc he’s never seen you in that way before but then he does you really slow and good omg please and thank you you’re writing is amazing” -anon

Minimalism (Part Two)

Word Count: 3,722

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: smut, au

Summary: Part two to Minimalism.

Pretty in Lace

Word Count: 4,728

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: smut, daddy kink, sugar daddy

Summary: Basically, you and Calum have an arrangement: he makes the money and you spend it. However, this time, he comes home from work with something he’s already picked out for you.

LUKE ONE SHOTS

Vapor

Word Count: 7,278

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: smut, songfic, angst

Summary: All good things come to an end. You spent your summer between the sheets with Luke, the boy from the beach house next door, lying to him while he was in love with you. On your last night together, you are left to face the music and he is left to pick up the pieces.

Delayed

Word Count: 6,291

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: smut, au

Summary: You’re flying home for the holidays, or at least trying to, until your flight gets delayed. Suddenly, you are left to your own devices at the airport along with all of the other Christmas travelers - Luke Hemmings included.

Enigma

Word Count: 3,676

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: smut

Summary: You and Luke are friends with benefits; nothing less and nothing more.

Couldn’t Forget You

Word Count: 9,996

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: smut, AU

Summary: You and Luke were best friends growing up. But, when he got whisked away into a world of fame, you were left behind. Your families always remained close, so when a beach weekend gets planned, you and Luke reunite.

ASHTON ONE SHOTS

All Day

Word Count: 3,764

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: smut

Summary: You move into a place with Ashton and decide to christen his new drumkit.

Birthday Gift

Word Count: 6,512

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: smut, AU

Summary: It’s Ashton’s birthday and you decide that the best gift he could get is what’s right in front of him.

Never Have I Ever

Word Count: 4,924

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: threesome, smut, au

Request: “would you please do a boyxboyxgirl threesome with two of the boys i don’t care who”

All These Years

Word Count: 7,407

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: smut, angst, AU

Summary: As Luke’s little sister, you grew up with him and his best friends - especially Ashton. He was always around. However, when they left home to tour the world as a band, you lost your brother and someone you had grown to love too much for your own good. A planned trip to visit them on tour is just what you needed.

MICHAEL ONE SHOTS

Never Have I Ever

Word Count: 4,924

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: threesome, smut, au

Request: “would you please do a boyxboyxgirl threesome with two of the boys i don’t care who”

[cliffordchick]

For the prompts, 31 with Michael? Thank you!☺️

31. "I waxed the floors, grab your fluffy socks.“

When Michael and you decided to move in with each it was originally to save money, but after three years living together became less of an excuse and more of a way of life. You couldn’t imagine what your life would be like without the smell of burning pancakes or walking into the bathroom and nearly falling into the toilet because Michael forgot to put the lid down during his three am pee break. 

And Michael felt the same way. He couldn’t fathom what it would be like to have someone else compete in Mario Kart tournaments with him, one’s that usually ended up in a screaming match over who would clean the apartment that week. He didn’t even want to think about what he would have done if you weren’t a room away when he fell into a rut, only your soothing hands on his back making him feel better. 

Michael needed you just as much as you needed him. 

Life together wasn’t always predictable though. Both Michael and you loved spontaneity which is why, often times, one of you would come home to chaos. Sometimes that involved walking into your apartment to find a small duffel bag pack and ready for your mini vacation. Other times it meant waking up to find you entire living room transformed into a glorified ball pit. Whatever it was, it was guaranteed to make both of you smile. 

After working a double shift at the restaurant you waitressed at, you were expecting to come home to a nice quiet apartment. You had planned to kick off your shoes, indulge in some take out, and catch up on the latest episode of How To Get Away With Murder that you had missed that week. But when you opened the door to your apartment to find your best friend sliding across the floor as if it was an ice rink, you knew all plans of having a quiet evening were gone. 

“I waxed the floors, grab your fluffy socks,“ Michael smiled, offering you his hand to guide you in the direction of your bedroom. 

You came sliding out a minute later, fluffy green socks with Peter Pan’s silhouette embedded in the soft fabric.  Glancing down at Michael’s feet, you couldn’t help but chuckle at his choice in socks, yellow one’s with stitched pikachus in all sorts of directions – one’s you had bought him for Christmas only a few weeks ago. 

“I like your socks,” you teased. 

“Thanks, my amazing best friend bought them for me,” he smiled, before tugging you towards him. The two of you slid around, laughing for a few minutes before Michael stopped in your path blocking you from sliding further into your furniture-less living room. “I don’t know how long this stuff says slippery for so we have to act fast,” he said, moving the both of you towards the middle of the room.

“What are you doing?” you laughed, as Michael twirled in circles around you. 

“Last night you told me you always wanted to be like Michelle Trachtenberg in the Ice Princess so I waxed the floors so you could!” 

“You’re such a dork, Clifford.” 

“Yeah, yeah I know,” he said waving off your comment. “Now come on, you have to recreate the routine!” 

For @alreadymissings and @5sospank‘s roommate!5sos blurb night

[sonderbucky]

Old polaroid pictures were scattered over his desk; some with old coffee stains over faces, some with smeared words that were once written in sharpie, and some that were in small frames. The walls were covered in a light blue paint and there was chipping around spots that held old picture frames that were no longer there. Plants in pots, his bed was messy, the blinds were barely opened- his room was an oasis. It smelled like coffee grains and- mint? Yes, it smelled like coffee grains and mint. The combination was odd at first but if one were to ask, that’s exactly how you would describe Ashton.

A ukulele was sitting in the corner of his bedroom, and a small typewriter was sitting on the desk, carefully placed so that it wouldn’t disturb any of the photos. He was sat on his bed, you in the door frame, and all you could think about was the love you held for the boy with curly hair and caramel eyes.

Five months.

Five months was all it took for you heart to fill with joy every time you saw him. You were, absolutely dumbfounded by the way he danced his pencil across the paper; by the way he would sometimes stick the point of his tongue out in concentration, by the way he so effortlessly radiated happiness. You were meant to be just friends, and you had no problem with that when you were just friends and not roommates; but then University came. And then you both agreed that, yeah, moving into together would be just brilliant! It would save money on both parties, and you two were very comfortable with each other after being friends for two years. It was the perfect solution.

Until, you know, you fell in love with him.

When he realized you were staring at him, he simply muttered the word, “c’mere,” with a grin stretching across his face as he motioned towards the emptiness beside him. You tried to protest at first, “Ash, you’re drawing, I wouldn’t want to be a bother,” but he insisted. Shaking your head with a smile, you walked over to his bed and sat next to the artist. The picture he was drawing had just been started; the circles just barely there and the lines striking through what you assumed was going to be a face later on. As he continued to draw, your assumption was correct when you noticed the neck followed by collarbones, small freckles, and the beginnings of a necklace. That was Ashton for you, he liked to start with the small details then work up to the actual faces. It was unique and you loved it.

“Who is that?” You questioned as you sunk into the pillows against the headboard.

He shrugged as he drew in the person’s ear. “Just somebody that I really like.”

Your words came out as a whisper, “tell me about them.”

Ashton went on to tell you about every little thing they did. They were beautiful, he said, their eye color was breathtaking. He said that he liked the way they carried themselves, liked the way they laughed at the smallest jokes. He described every detail about them, right down to the freckles that danced across their arms. Their hair color was the perfect mixture of his favorite blends; they were the perfect muse, he said.

“Can-” he hesitated as he wrote incoherent words into your thigh, “can I tell you something?”

“You’ve been telling me stuff for about an hour, Ash,” you grinned, “but of course. You can tell me anything.”

The drawing was finished, the words “my muse; my everything” written at the bottom of the page along with his signature. You held your breath as your eyes scanned his drawing. Their hair (your hair) was indeed perfect, their (your) expression was flawless; he always knew how to perfect everything. He always knew how to perfect you. He could draw you from memory so easily, perhaps because you were all he thought about. He memorized every aspect of you and he could list them off to a stranger in his sleep.

“I think I’m in love them.” His voice wasn’t much more than a whisper, and you probably wouldn’t of heard him if you weren’t so close to the boy. It was as if time stood still in the moment, almost like your heartbeat had stopped but you were still alive somehow. Thriving on the fact that this boy, this wonderful, amazing, beautiful, boy, loved you. 

He loved you back.

And then his lips were on yours, and time resumed, and everything was perfect; you melted into him and kissed him back, moving your hands to the back of his neck. You (and Ashton) had dreamed about this for so long and it had finally happened. It was becoming reality, and the both of you couldn’t have been happier. written for @5sospank‘s and @alreadymissings‘s roommate!5sos blurb night! :) 

[perfectlykj]

Word Count: 1k+

A/N: this is for @5sospank and @alreadymissings roommate!5sos blurb night. Enjoy!

You and Michael had been roommates for almost two years. It wasn't supposed to be a permanent thing, actually it wasn't supposed to be a thing at all. You had bought the apartment right out of college, the first place you actually owned by yourself. Coming up with the rent was always a struggle when you were by yourself and you always spent every other Friday night trying to come up with enough money to cover your demanding rent.

On one of those fateful nights, you were hunched on the chair at your dining table, dollar bills, loose change, receipts, bank statements, the whole nine-yards spread across the surface of the table. With a calculator in your hand, you crunched numbers and were realized you would be coming short once again. It would be the sixth time within the past eight payments. Your landlord was not going to be happy at all, and by "not happy," it meant he was going to force you out.

As you paced the room trying to figure out what you could do, there was a knock at the door. Annoyed, you briskly made your way to the door. When you opened the door, you were confused at the sight in front of you. A tall man, out of breath, with blaring red cheeks, and hair the color of his cheeks, was standing before you.

"Um, can I help you?" you asked the man, eyeing his black suit that was a bit disheveled from the running he seemed to have done.

"Listen, I am a genetically modified government experiment on the run, you will let me hide in your house," he croaked in between heavy breaths. He pushed his way past you, inviting himself into your apartment.

As you stood in shock at your front door, the man went over to your windows, shutting the shades you had open to let the lights from the city into your tiny space.

Closing the door, you took a few steps into the room, not really knowing how to react and what to say, his bright hair had seemed to cloud your thoughts. "Can I ask what you are doing in my apartment?" you finally questioned him once you were able to jumble some of your thoughts together.

The man looked over at you and smirked. "I already told you," he exclaimed with a wink of his big green eye.

"Oh yeah, that's right. You're some government alien who escaped and is now running away from them. I swear this sounds like it's straight out of the movie The Island," you said, the sarcasm evident in your voice.

The man turned around and looked at you, his face scrunched up as if he was trying to think of something. "Is that the movie with Scarlett Johansson?" he asked, completely serious.

"You just walked into a stranger's apartment and that's the question you want to ask me?" you blurted in disbelief.

"Fine. I see your point." He walked over the your couch and sat, patting the seat next to him, motioning you to join him.

You cautiously made your way over to him, sitting farther away from him than what he wanted. He scooted closer and threw his arm around the back of the couch.

"Go ahead, ask me anything. I will tell you anything you want to know."

A laugh escaped you for reasons you weren't entirely sure of. He seemed so familiar to you, even though you knew you had never met him. You would have remembered meeting someone with hair that bright. Maybe you laughed more at the situation and not his comment, you didn't know.

"Okay, well what's your name? I think I should know the name of a person who has decided to make camp in my living room!" you said with a laugh.

"Michael. The name's Michael. And just to be clear, I'm not actually a government alien. I am completely human!" he informed.

"I kind of figured that. So next question, why are you hiding?" you questioned, trying to dig deeper. "Well I was supposed to get married tonight, but it just didn't feel right." His voice got quiet. His eyes and body language showed right through his tough facade, showed down into his heart. His eyes averted yours as he looked towards one of the blinded windows. He started playing with his hands, turning his eyes towards them before continuing. "So I ran. I ran right out of that church and ran away from that girl. She came after me but I just didn't really want to explain things. I mean, we were good friends growing up and so our parents kind of forced us to get married. But that's just it, this whole thing was what they want and it isn't really what I want." He sighed and brought his gaze back up to yours, searching your eyes for the judgement he expected.

For a minute, you weren't sure how to respond. You had never really gone through what he had told you, so you weren't really sure how to comfort him. But you tried your best. "Well if you truly feel like she wasn't the one, then you made the right choice for yourself. Sometimes you have to disappoint others in order to make yourself happy, but that's okay. Promise," you suggested, giving him a small smile. "For the meantime, you can sleep here tonight if you want. I don't have a guest bed but this couch is quite comfy. I can go get you a blanket and a pillow, too."

At your words, his demeanor was back to where it was when he first showed up at your doorstep. He smiled and nodded, thanking you for your generosity.

You and Michael talked throughout the night, discovering more and more about each other, finding out that you were more similar than you had originally thought. He ended up asking to just stay there for a week or so while he figured everything out with his family and ex-fiance, to which you said yes. Michael helped pay your rent and as the week came and went, Michael never left. Probably because the government was and is still looking for him, and two years later, he is still here.

[piscesicon]

paul blart (mall cop), nicholas cage, jack black

fuck paul blart, marry jack black, goodbye nick cage u are the man of my nightmares

send me fmks

[thedreamvevo]

☃

kelllly!!! hi!!! this is actually the first like .. ~real~ interaction i suppose we’re having??? basically i’m just gonna start of by saying you’re one of my favorite writers on tumblr and i srsly believe someday your name will be on the cover of a book in the front window of every bookshop in the world (ofc, if that’s something you aspire to do). you have such a genuine and naturally talented way with words and i srsly feel blessed that you chose 5sos to be the ones you wrote fic about lol. i don’t really know much else about you besides the asks i occasionally see you answer but you’re always super nice to people so there’s that!!! also, you’re gorgeous in every sense of the world (like honestly, if you want, you can always tag me in your selfies as far as i’m concerned). i feel like we could actually have the potential to be really good friends and write each other horrible little blurbs about the boys just to piss the other off but alas, i’m shy and horrible with messaging so there’s that. anyways, to sum this up you’re legit one of my fave tumblrs lol

finishing the mutual notes :-)