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emmyhem · 2 years

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a year of almost (c.t.h)

a/n: okay, hi! it’s been a whileeee. i’m so sorry for my lack of posting but i wanted to start the new year off right because i so badly want to get back into posting regularly. i missed writing so much i’ve just been busy up to my ears and haven’t had the motivation to sit down and write. so this is a lil new years calum piece with one of my favorite tropes to read - five times he wanted to kiss u and the one time he did. so many other writers have done this so well and i wanted to try my hand at it. i’ve gotten so many supportive messages and so many ideas since i’ve stopped writing and i wanted to say thank you to everyone who messaged me, i love u all to the moon & back! so here is “a year of almost” (unedited) be gentle with me please, i haven’t written in a while :) i appreciate all comments and criticisms, i hope you enjoy - emmy <333

pairing: calum hood x fem!reader

summary: calum can pinpoint five times over the past year when he wanted more than anything to kiss you and of course there was the time he did.

warning(s): cursing, minor injury (mention of blood), slight sexual referencing, alcohol, smoking, weed, very slight angst, pining, slight arguing

word count: 9k

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“You don’t realize how long a year is until you spend a year without something.” - anon

December 31st

“We are counting down here in Times Square and there are just three hours till the New Year!”

Ryan Seacrest’s voice sounded across the busy bar and Calum was on his fourth beer of the night. Luke and Michael sat across from him in the worn leather booth and laughed about some interaction they had seen on their walk to the bar earlier in the night. Calum took a breath as he brought his pint up to his mouth and the thick scent of sweat and champagne filled his nose.

“Where the hell is Ash?” Michael shouted suddenly over the chatter.

Calum looked around the humid room filled with lonely people and sparkly clothes and wondered the exact same thing.

Luke slammed a shot glass onto the wood between them, the remnants of tequila splashing into the air, “He’s picking up that friend of his. Y’know the one he met at that record store he’s always trying to drag us into.”

Calum wasn’t fond of the idea of bringing an outsider into their night out, especially due to his distaste regarding New Year’s Eve in the first place. It was an overhyped night of drinking and scouring for any willing pair of lips to indulge at midnight, that always resulted in ringing in the next 365 days with ringing ears and a bad headache. Despite this he had politely agreed to Ashton’s request to bring you, his new confidant, to the bar they had spent every December 31st in for the last three years. He was a good friend, what could he say?

Like clockwork, Ashton’s enthusiastic voice caused the three guys to snap their heads to side and follow the sound. Ashton practically skipped in, buzzing with excitement and with maybe one of the prettiest girls Calum had ever seen holding on to the back of his shirt in an effort to not be split by the rowdy crowd.

“Boys!” Ashton greeted, smacking a hand on Calum’s shoulder jovially, “ This is y/n, who I’ve been telling you about.”

You stepped out from Ashton’s shadow, dropping your hand from his button down and raised a shy hand, nodding a smile to them.

“Hi,”

Calum’s brain felt mushy and he started mentally recounting how many drinks he had downed that could’ve been making him feel so weird and floaty all of a sudden.

“Hi,” he echoed, eyes locked on yours.

You looked down to him and smiled again, this time more sincerely.

The other boys greeted you and Michael got up to get you and Ashton drinks. Calum couldn’t stop himself from letting his eyes roam you from head to toe, wondrous to how anyone could be so fucking perfect.

Ashton interrupted his visual digesting of you by ushering you into his side of the booth and then squeezing in on your other side. “Budge over mate, we’ve all got to squeeze in.”

As Ashton scooted in as much as he could, he also was pushing you further and further into Calum, who was now pressed tightly against the wall. His arm which had been previously propped up on the back of the booth now tickled the back of your neck and your shoulder dug into his armpit.

He glanced apologetically towards you and mumbled, “Sorry.”

As he went to move his arm back down to his side he realized it wouldn't fit comfortably and he would have to twist it in an awkward position just to keep it down.

You watched out of the corner of your eye as he tried to maneuver himself in a more comfortable position, eventually giving into your sympathy, “You can just leave it up if you want.” you proposed.

He hummed, and slunk his arm back around the booth and you, bringing his glass to his mouth with his opposite hand, “Right, cheers.”

As the night went on Calum learned a thing or two about you. The first being the record shop that Ashton met you at was actually yours, you bought the place a few months ago and Ashton’s affinity for 70’s psychedelic rock had lured him in last month. He also learned that you weren’t drinking much due to the fact that you had to be up early to open the place so you sipped leisurely on a vodka cranberry throughout the night. Lastly, he learned that the more drinks he got in him the harder it was for him to restrain himself from tucking you fully into his side and nuzzling his nose into the spot on your neck that he could smell your perfume radiating off of when he tilted his head to you slightly.

As midnight neared he swore he could feel the booth swaying side to side and could see through his blurred vision his friends weren’t doing much better. At one point Luke completely missed his mouth and spilled his Corona all over himself causing you to burst into a fit of sweet sounding laughter and he felt like he could feel his heart being ripped out and floating straight into your hands.

The minutes counting down soon turned to seconds and Calum’s urge to kiss you when it hit zero was plaguing his intoxicated brain so completely he had to take a second and lean his head against the wall beside him and close his eyes.

Michael noticed the pained expression covering his face and chuckled into his cup before pointing an aggravating finger to Calum’s face. “Too much to drink, Cal?”

“Shuddup” he slurred in response, embarrassed at the prospect of being caught in a fit of longing.

You turned towards him and nudged your elbow into his side very lightly to grab his attention, he peeled his eyes open and turned to you.

“Hm?” he hummed too disoriented by the alcohol and you to verbally communicate.

“Are you feeling okay?” you leaned in and spoke quietly so the other guys wouldn’t pick on him for his current inability to elegantly hold his drinks. He watched your lips move around your words and inhaled the subtle cranberry smell lacing your breath, only digging a deeper hole of want his stomach.

He groaned and dropped his head to the wall again, squeezing his eyes tighter this time.

When it did eventually hit zero Ashton took the liberty of smacking a kiss to everyone’s cheek, even Michael who groaned and curled into himself in protest.

You waited as everyone finished their drinks and then tried your hardest to help four cavemen sized men into their respective ubers.

First was Luke who struggled to fit his lanky legs and knobby knees into the backseat, waving with his eyes half closed as the driver pulled away.

Ashton went next protesting drunkenly when you attempted to wave the car away, “I’ll wait wi’ you” he slurred out the window.

“I’ll be fine.” you assured, laughing as Michael’s head fell heavily onto your shoulder. “I’ll bet I make it home much easier than you lot.”

Next was Michael who hardly noticed you transferring him from the sidewalk into the car with the help of the uber driver, you were sure he would fall asleep on the way home and had the driver promise he would assist him to his door if he needed the help.

When Michael’s car drove away you swung around to see Calum leaning against the wall of the bar struggling to light a cigarette as his clumsy fingers fiddled with the lighter. You smiled and walked toward him, causing him to straighten his stance as he saw you.

“Need help with that?”

“M’fine” he grumbled finally getting the flame to catch the end, light sizzling in an orange circle protruding the dark.

You heard wheels pull up, and turned to see the final car.

“Ready to go home?” you questioned, jestering to the black vehicle in front of you.

“Y’can take that one.” he garbled through a smoky exhale.

“Yeah right.” you returned, reaching to grab his hand. “If I don’t get you in a car right now I doubt you’ll make it home at all.”

When your hand reached his, interlocking your digits, he choked on an inhale and coughed roughly, placing a hand on his knee to catch his breath.

You placed a soothing hand on his back and patted twice to assist him in recovery.

When he caught his breath he looked up to you with glossy eyes, “Thanks”

You nodded and tried to guide him to the car once again. He stopped as you neared the curb and dropped his cigarette to the ground, stubbing it out with his shoe.

“How’re you getting home?” he asked as you pulled open the door for him.

“I’ve got a short walk.” you answered, distractedly watching his fingers curl around the top of the car door.

His eyes quickly scanned the dimly lit street as best as they could through the foggy lens of alcohol. There were a few stragglers stumbling out of the bar and down the sidewalk, some more threatening than others.

“Nope.” he decided aloud.

“What?” you laughed.

“C’mon,” he said, moving out of the way and allowing you entrance to the SUV. “You’re sharing w’me.”

“That’s really unnecessary,” you protested. “It’s literally like a 10 minute walk.”

Calum once again looked at his surroundings, his eyes catching on a middle aged man who eyed your body the way he had earlier in the night, only hopefully he didn’t look as fucking creepy. His eyes found you once again and he nodded assuredly, “Yeah, s’not happening.”

Not incredibly pleased with the idea of walking home alone, but also not fond of the idea of being in a cab or uber by yourself, you gave in and slid into the seat, helping Calum get in, and then driving down the confetti ridden street, watching a steady display of fireworks coloring the sky through the window your entire ride home.

March 6th

As much as Calum had hoped that New Year’s Eve would be the last time he would have to be around you and therefore be struggling to contain the way he acted around you, the way he thought about you, and the way he desired you, it wasn’t.

Ashton had made sure you had become a regular fixture in his and the rest of the band’s life. You were there for casual lunches, nights out, parties, even movie nights. This meant you had become comfortable with all of them, sharing a straw with Luke, helping Michael out with his dogs, cuddling with Ashton on the couch, and maybe most troubling, the door had now been opened to borrowing Calum’s clothes.

It all started when you came by the studio that day, Ashton had asked you to pick up lunch for everyone and eat with them at the studio, he was desperate for you to hear the new stuff. You of course had agreed loving to spend any time with your favorite four guys, and Calum, like he did before any time you saw him began preparing himself to be in your presence. This consisted of thoroughly running through a mental list of dos and don'ts.

Do: Be friendly. Smile. Laugh. An occasional hug. Ask how you are. Ask about work. Join in the group conversation.

Don’t: Be jealous. No scowling when you cozy up with the other guys. No asking about your love life. No protests when Michael suggests he sets you up with another fucking guy for the 80th time. No passive aggressiveness when hearing that you invited only Ashton to celebrate your thousandth sale at the store.

Do: Be courteous. Help if it’s asked. Encourage when you talk about your future plans. Offer praise when you talk about a recent accomplishment. Celebrate your wins.

Don’t: Be doting. No refilling your water glass just because it’s empty. No getting you a blanket because you shivered once. No preparing another dish when you're clearly feigning enjoyment of Luke’s cooking. No running to get a new air filter for Ashton’s house when you sneeze a few times (again).

The list goes on and on and on.

He was repeatedly doing this when you walked in struggling to carry two full bags of food, he stopped himself before he sprung up to take them from you and allowed Ashton to do it instead, he was closer anyway.

“Hi” you called, obviously out of breath, you sighed in relief when Ashton took both bags and sat them on a nearby table.

Everyone said their greetings and thanks paired with a hug, everyone except Calum who spoke from the couch in the corner of the room, jealousy bubbling in his chest.

After you had handed out almost everyone’s food you made your way to Calum and dropped beside him on the couch handing him his sandwich and sitting your own soup next to your feet on the floor.

“How are you?” you asked after you sat.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, holding up his sandwich. “I’m pretty good, how’re you?”

“Alright.” you replied. “We were swamped at work today, we finally got another shipment of Taylor Swift records in today. I swear there was a line down the street when I came in to open.”

Calum watched you intently as you carefully opened the lid of your soup, a piece of hair falling across your forehead as you looked down. He wanted so badly to push it back that he considered sitting on his own hands.

“Cal?”

“Hm?”

“Are you listening?”

“Oh yeah, sorry.” he said, breaking his gaze from your face. “Sounds busy.”

“You have no idea.” you returned, taking a spoonful of your food. “I guess you guys have been pretty busy here too.”

“Everytime we start working on a new album I forget how much work it is.” he said between bites of his sandwich.

“I can imagine.”

For a while you both sat in silence while you ate and Calum couldn’t be more content, just being in your space felt like some sort of gift that he wasn’t really worthy of but would treasure regardless.

Michael, who had scarfed down his burger in a matter of seconds, was tossing a rubber ball into the air and catching it repeatedly while Luke and Ashton talked through a melody that they couldn’t quite get down.

“Cal,” Michael said from across the room, frowning when he didn’t look up. “Calum, do you want to look through that last bridge with me again.”

Calum watched you carefully maneuver around any “suspicious looking” pieces of chicken in your soup, smiling at you fondly, and wasn’t fully aware of anyone else being in the room let alone Michael trying to get his attention.

“Calum!” Michael tried again, this time tossing the ball towards Calum in one last attempt to get his focus.

When the ball completely missed Calum’s head and knocked into the container harboring your very hot soup you yelped and dropped it all over yourself and your brand new sweater. It soaked through the material and was beginning to saturate your skin.

Calum’s eyebrows shot up and he instinctively reached for the container and what was left of your soup, preventing anymore from soiling you.

“You okay?” he asked concerned, one hand on your shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m sorry y/n.” Michael said from across the room standing up to help, getting the attention of Luke and Ashton who simply watched with confused expressions.

“Yeah, I’m fine, s’just hot.” you said shakily, staring down at your soaked top.

“Idiot.” Calum tutted, throwing back the destructive little ball, which bounced harmlessly off of Michael’s forehead.

Ashton looked around, his eye catching on the back of the couch where Calum’s hoodie, which had been discarded from his body earlier, was thrown haphazardly. “Here, y/n put this on. You don’t mind, d’ya Cal?” He threw it to you, and you caught it right before it hit the ground.

You wanted to get the now hot and sticky material off of you as soon as possible, but turned to Calum first. “Is it alright with you?”

If it wasn’t for the fact that Calum would rather pull out his own fingernails then see you in any kind of discomfort he would’ve shouted “No!” and ripped the sweatshirt out of your hands, there was absolutely no good that could come out of seeing you in his clothes. It would only inspire an endless stream of images that would haunt him in his sleep, haunt him while he was wide awake even. He could already see them now.

You coming around the hall into his kitchen in the morning after a perfect night together, one of his favorite t-shirts brushing your thighs as you walked over to him and wordlessly snaked your arms around his waist while he made coffee. You slipping out of bed in the middle of the night and stealing a pair of his sweatpants to cover your bare, goosebumps covered legs so you could go get a glass of water without freezing to death on the way to the sink. You wearing nothing but his boxers as he peppered kisses across your face and neck after a night of passion, before finally succumbing to sleep, you curled around him, all smooth skin, and soft edges.

But, of course he didn’t have it in him to allow you to spend one more second not completely untroubled.

“Of course y’can.” he surrendered. Maybe he was a masochist, at least he was when it came to you.

All the guys politely averted their eyes as you peeled the wet fabric off yourself and slipped on Calum’s sweatshirt which swallowed your figure, but was easily one of the most comfortable things you’ve ever had on your body, and it smelled really good, like him, but no one needed to know about that part.

You cleared your throat to signal that you were once again fully clothed, and Calum’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of you wearing something that was his. It was like you were his.

Nope, not what it means. He shook his head to get any thought remotely similar to that out of his head.

You turned to him, “Perfect fit, thanks.”

He cleared his throat, once, twice. “Yeah, It um, it suits you.” he said, and for a millisecond he could’ve sworn you were the only two in the room. He let his eyes rest on your lip which you had tucked between your teeth, gnawing it lightly.

He could almost feel your lips on his for that second, he could feel the slight tackiness of your strawberry lip gloss, he could smell it, he could almost taste it.

You released your lip and smiled gratefully at him.

“Right then, back to work.” Michael said. “Calum, I really need your help with this bridge.”

And the trance was broken.

His head snapped to the side, “Yeah, I'm on it.”

Before leaving, your soiled sweater tied in a plastic bag Ashton had fetched for you, you walked over to Calum who sat on a stool plucking his bass experimentally. You loved seeing him like that, his passion in his hands, it was like he was in another world.

“Hey,” you lilted, grabbing his attention. You fiddled with the strings of the sweatshirt that fell across your chest. “Thanks again, I’ll have it washed and returned before you know it.”

Calum watched your delicate fingers twirl the thread and suppressed a whimper. “Don’t worry about it, reckon it looks much better on you than on me.”

You laughed, soft and light, “Not sure about that.”

“You should be.” he said and your eyes widened a bit. “Keep it, I mean.”

You nodded, and spun on your feet, grinning to yourself as you mumbled a quiet, “I’ll see ya.”

As you left the room, Calum smiled down to his bass and played with a little more confidence picturing you wearing it on the ride back home while you hummed along to the radio, in your living room while you watched the true crime shows he knew you loved, in your bed curled into your covers while your fan hummed quietly around you.

June 22nd

In recent developments, your store had taken off, like really taken off. Some social media influencer had found it fit for her feed and snapped a series of pictures inside, and since then the place had been booming with customers, day in and day out.

Because of this you had finally been able to move out of your stuffy studio apartment into a two bedroom two bathroom with a park view. The guys had been thrilled for you, marvelling at all the space you now had, Luke even saying, “Now you can finally host game night once in a while.”

Due to your drastic upgrade in space you needed lots of new furniture to fill out your new home, and after two, or six trips to IKEA you were finally fully stocked with everything you needed. But then came the hard part, putting it all together. You needed reinforcements, and luckily for you you had four, willing and waiting for your word.

It was a rainy Sunday when you were able to wrangle them all into your apartment with hammers and screwdrivers galore. Luke picked up Indian food and after eating on your floor, while Ashton scoured your record collection, you were finally ready to get to work.

Calum loved being in your space and despite the then limited furnishing he could already feel you looming in the air, smeared all over the walls, and imbedded into the hardwood flooring. You were all over this place, like you were all over him.

Ashton had finally selected a pile of about 20 or so vinyls to act as a soundtrack to your building endeavors and the sound of The Stone Roses filled your living room where each of you were ripping open cardboard boxes and struggling with the vague picture directions.

“What the hell is this supposed to mean?” Michael said, holding up his booklet of instructions for Luke, who only shrugged in response, turning his attention back to the bookshelf he was assembling with serious concentration.

Ashton got up from where he had, in record time, completed building a coffee table and dropped beside Michael explaining the image he had been stuck on.

Calum worked on your dining room table, stealing glances of you sitting criss-cross applesauce struggling to seamlessly get a screw into the tiny opening it was meant to fit in. He found your frustrated pout endearing, and after watching you struggle for a few minutes he got up and squatted beside you.

“Having some trouble?”

“It’s not my fault,” you huffed, “There is no way in hell this is correct.” you gestured to what you had been working on.

“Lemme see,” he said, asking for the instructions.

“Good luck.” you said, slightly annoyed with yourself for not being able to get it.

“So, it looks like this might be upside down” he said, turning the wood palette in front of you the other way revealing a slightly larger hole.

You groaned and allowed your back to fall backwards to the ground, legs still crossed in front of you.

“Can’t you just build it? Men are meant for this aren’t they?”

Calum laughed, “Well, I’m kinda building you a table right now. I’ll see what I can do after I’m done.”

“I think I’ll just watch for now.” you teased. “You guys have got this, haven’t you?”

“Wha-No, y/n.” Luke stuttered in protest.

“I’m joking, Luke.” you said, sitting back up. “Look, back to work with me. Keep up the good work.”

Luke shook his head and continued his work and Calum begrudgingly left your side to do the same.

After about 15 more minutes of work three more pieces were finished and you were finishing up your own project, sliding one more piece to complete the shelf when your finger slipped a bit and was pinched unavailingly tight in between the two pieces causing you to cry out in pain and tug your still enclosed finger away quickly, falling onto your bum with the force.

All four heads whirled in your direction and Calum was up from his spot on the kitchen floor within seconds.

“What happened, baby?” he asked desperately, the pet name slipping out amidst his panic.

You whined around your words, holding your now bleeding finger in front of you. “My finger.”

He glanced to where the blood was running down from the pad of your finger, he as delicately as possible took it into his hand causing you to hiss in pain and let out another wail.

“What’s wrong?” Ashton asked, standing a few feet away watching in concern.

“She pinched her finger.” Calum explained, examining the wound.

“Bad.” you blubbered, sadly.

“Nah, s’just a nasty pinch, y/n. You’re gonna be okay.” he said, attempting to soothe the worry that was now creasing your forehead. “We gotta clean it out though,” he added. “Y’wanna come with me to the bathroom for a second?”

“Mhm” you nodded, allowing him to pull you up with your other, unharmed hand.

As he guided you to the bathroom the other three boys shared a knowing look at your retreating backs.

Calum helped prop you up on the ledge of the sink, holding your throbbing finger in a damp washcloth. You looked at the ceiling willing your tears to stop, feeling childish and silly for having such a reaction.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches or anything like that,” he said, watching your solemn face. “But you opened it up pretty bad when you pulled it away, think we’re gonna have to properly bandage it, a band-aid isn’t gonna cut it.”

You sniffled and turned your head to the side, trying to avoid looking at the blood that was protruding the white cloth.

“You gonna be okay?”

“I feel dramatic.” you faltered.

“Hey,” he said, hooking a finger under your chin. “If it hurts it hurts. Don’t downplay it for us.”

You mustered a small smile, and leaned into the touch, the pain you were still in blurring boundaries that had been previously set in your own head.

Calum ran his finger over your jaw and held his breath, unable to fully understand how you would ever let him this close. Close enough that if you were to jut out your chin half an inch and he were to find the courage to meet you in the distance your lips would practically be touching.

He cleared his throat a bit, but kept his hand on your face. “Does it still hurt?”

You shook your head against his palm, in awe of him. “Not so much anymore.”

“Good.” he hummed, allowing his eyes to dip down for one risky and shameless glance at your cushiony lips.

Aware of the tension overtaking the room you used your free hand to grab his forearm, steadying you from the pool of arousal that was building at the bottom of your stomach, but acting as if you only needed to keep your balance on the thin ledge of the sink.

“Thank you.” you all but whispered, eyes locked with his.

He rolled his lips into his mouth to stop himself from doing anything stupid. “Anytime.” His voice was rough and almost seemed deeper than it had before.

“You guys okay in there?” Luke called, causing Calum to drop his hand and you to grab the sink.

You could’ve sworn Calum rolled his eyes, but if he did he was quick to recover when he helped you down and responded “Peachy.”

October 5th

To say things between you and Calum had been awkward since operation: IKEA would be an understatement. The two of you had very different ideas of how to deal with your mounting attraction, while you wanted to be near him all the time and were constantly asking him to come around to change a lightbulb for you, or meet you for celebratory drinks when you knew they had wrapped on a new song, Calum wanted to distance himself as much as possible, skipping group get togethers, fleeing when you walked into a room.

You were both a mess.

When Halloween began approaching Michael suggested you hold movie night at your place, “We can watch all the classics, Scream, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre…” the list went on and on.

When you agreed, you had one ultimatum, they all had to be there, you didn’t name Calum specifically, but it was heavily implied.

Ashton approached him about the subject the next day, “You can’t miss movie night. It’s practically a cardinal sin.” He said dramatically. “I don’t care what’s going on between the two of you, it's been ages since we’ve all properly gotten together.”

“There’s nothing going on between us.” he was quick to protest. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about. We hang out all the time, we just had that bonfire at Luke’s.”

Ashton sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Mate, that was August. Just be there.”

And that was that.

So Calum was at your front door at 6:00 a bag of chips and a 12 pack in hand.

“Cal!” you greeted, pleased when you swung the door open to reveal the brunette on your front mat.

“Hey,” he said, moving into your space and giving you a one armed hug.

“Come on, we’re about to start.”

You looked impossibly cute in lavender fuzzy pants and much to his agony, Calum’s sweatshirt. There was no way he would last through an entire night.

You walked him through your apartment which had become much more lived in since he was last there. There were polaroids cluttering your fridge, rain scented candles flickering on the kitchen table Calum had slaved over months ago, a mug of half drunk tea on the counter, and piles of books stacked against almost every wall.

“Looks good in here.” he said while gazing around.

“Thanks,” you grinned, enjoying seeing him in the place you had made home. “You haven’t been around much.”

Calum glanced anxiously at his converse clad feet, “Yeah, uh m’sorry about that, I’ve been busy and that.”

“Right.” you said unconvinced.

“We’re gonna start without you!” Michael called from the living room, growing impatient.

Your sectional was piled high with blankets and pillows and a questionable amount of food was splayed in front of his other three band members that had already assumed their places on the couch and we’re waiting patiently for the show to start. Whether that be the movie or not.

You plopped down next to Ashton and pulled a blanket over your lap, “Calum, can you get the light?” He nodded and hit the switch, surveying for his spot.

“Here,” you patted the only open seat left, the one directly next to you. “You’ve got the best seat in the house.”

Wordlessly, he sat down next to you and attempted to get comfortable, but was finding it hard as all he could think about was the fact that you were right there in his reach and he couldn’t just pull you into his lap and call it a day.

The movie started and with the close proximity, he could feel the couch move with every twitch of your leg or startled little hop. With each jump scare that had your eyes squeezing shut his fingers itched to pull you into his chest and let his body shield you from any scare you wanted to escape, to pet your head and tell you that it was just a movie and he had you. But he couldn’t, so instead he stared daggers at the TV and kept his hand somewhat close so you could grab it if you needed, for your benefit of course.

As the first movie neared its end and the scares became bigger and more frequent you began unconsciously inching your way into his space, needing to be near him. A particularly shocking scare had you flailing both arms out, one clutching Ashton’s hand and the other landing on Calum’s thigh. Expecting him to flinch away due to his latest behavior you were in shock when he placed his larger hand over yours and and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles soothingly.

Michael was curled into the couch, enjoying the classic cinema and haunting score. Luke sprawled across the couch, a bowl of popcorn sitting on his chest and reaching just below his nose which Ashton picked at sporadically, crunching obnoxiously over the movie. You and Calum sat with your fingers still lightly intertwined, both highly aware of the contact but acting as unaffected as possible.

With each movie coming and going, you and Calum somehow ended up closer and closer, holding hands by the first, his arm tightly around you by the second, and by the third when everyone was starting to doze off your whole bodies were nearly entangled, legs laced, and your head on his chest, his steady breathing calming your antsy nerves.

You yourself were starting to fall asleep when you could feel Calum start to sit up, his movement startling your languid lying. You attempted to tighten your hold thinking he was trying to get up.

His sleepiness softened his recent act and he smoothed his hand down your shoulder firmly, “M’just turning off the TV.”

You hummed and nuzzled further into his chest, pulling the blankets up till they reached just under your chin.

As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light he took in your sleeping features, the quiet whistle of you breathing through your nose, your lips smushed against his chest, and your eyelashes fluttering every few minutes while you dreamed.

If he quirked his neck in the right way he could leave a soft goodnight kiss right in the corner of your lips, it would be innocent, he thought, totally platonic.

As he leaned in to do so, his blood pumping fast and his brain buzzing with nerves you let out a content sigh and mumbled, “Goodnight, Cal.” rolling further into his chest and barring him from your increasingly tempting pout.

December 19th

While the awkwardness had essentially died out between you and Calum the attraction was stronger than ever, that much was clear when Calum had to pinch his thigh harshly as he watched you stretch to hang mistletoe on every archway in your apartment. He had agreed to come over and help you decorate for your planned Holiday party that night and watching you dart around the house in nothing but tiny pajama shorts and an oversized pine colored sweater was seriously hurting him.

“I can’t reach this one, Cal.” you whined, looking over your shoulder for help.

“I told you I should be in charge of this job” he said, taking the mistletoe from you and securing it to the ceiling easily.

“Mistletoe is the most romantic part about Christmas.” you said taking a step back to admire his work. “I wanted to do it.”

Calum laughed and prodded your forehead, “Then try growing a few inches, little miss.”

Ignoring his teasing you spun on your heels and walked to the oven cracking it open to release a buttery and sugary smell into the air.

“Cookies are almost done.”

“Good, I’m starved.”

You gave him a scolding look and closed the oven, “Not happening.” you scowled. “Those are for the party, not you.”

“I’ll be attending the party.” he tried, giving you his best and most convincing smile.

“I said no.”

“Alright, boss. No cookies for me then.”

“You can have some later.” you promised, putting the final touches on the table centerpiece which consisted of holly berries and a flourishing Poinsettia. “Now get going, people are going to start showing up in two hours and I have to get ready.”

“Alright, alright.” he conceded, throwing his hands in the air. “Stop worrying so much, everyone’s gonna love it.” he said walking to the door.

You pushed him through the threshold and grimaced.“Easy for you to say Mr. Hollywood, it’s you and your band mates' fancy friends that I’m worried about in the first place.”

“Fancy friends?” he chuckled.

“You know what I mean, now get out!” you pushed, closing the door in his face.

Calum walked home thinking of you the whole way, he pictured you darting around your party like a little social butterfly, lips painted red and smile gleaming.

A couple of hours later, he threw on a gray jumper and met with the other guys, each throwing back two beers before heading to your apartment. As they approached the door the sounds of Bing Crosby were already crooning through the halls and over it mumbled laughter and clinking cups.

Ashton knocked against the door three times before opening and peeking his head through, “Sounds like a party is going on in here.”

When he opened it fully Calum could see you stumbling drunkly as you barreled towards them.

“Ash!” you beamed, crashing into his arms and nearly knocking the wine bottle he held in his hand to the floor. “Where’ve you guys been? I’ve been all lonely.”

Luke laughed and tapped his knuckle on your forehead as you remained in Ashton’s arms. “Yeah not like there’s anyone here, y/n/n.” he teased, looking around your crowded kitchen.

“Psh,” you huffed, eyes glossy from intoxication and cheeks warm to the touch. “They’re not as important.”

You untangled yourself from Ashton to quickly hug Michael who was already eyeing the chocolate eclairs on the counter. Calum stepped forward and wrapped you into a hearty hug and you hummed as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Flattering, love.” he said appreciatively. “Y’look stunning.”

You beamed at the praise and let your head drop to the archway beside you.

“Had a bit to drink?”

You held your fingers up, pinching them close together and shrugging. “Little bit.”

“Hm, looks like it.”

“Marla made sangria.” You explained, “S’really good.”

“I bet.” he said distractedly, eyes catching on one single pearl that rested on your clavicle wrapped around a delicate gold chain. He pointed a finger to it, “Christmas present?”

You looked down as best you could to see what he was motioning to.

“From my parents.” you filled in, turning the pearl in your fingers.

Calum swallowed thickly as he examined your neck, “It’s nice.”

“Thanks.” You took in his strained expression and poked his chest. “Hey it’s a party, let’s get you a drink.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

After going through one rum and coke Calum tried to mingle his way through the party, acquainting himself with your other friends and sharing a few laughs with the guys who had taken a liking to the crammed balcony where they could smoke a joint or two uninterrupted.

You continued to drink, happily humming Christmas carols and giggling at your friends' anecdotes. Ashton and Luke raided through the snacks you had laid out in a fit of munchies and Michael had curled onto one of your armchairs with red eyes, wrapping a fuzzy throw around himself despite the party happening around him.

The weed had left Calum’s head light and his limbs heavy and anytime you were in eyeshot he would feel some sort of gravitational pull that had him right at your heels keeping a hand on your leg, an elbow on your shoulder, or an ankle hooked around your chair leg.

“You two look like a proper couple.” One of your neighbors pointed out when Calum’s head dropped to your shoulder in a burst of laughter.

Your eyes went wide and averted to the ground and Calum nearly choked on a sip of his beer, moving his head off of you as if you were on fire.

You coughed and turned to look at his reddened face, “Just friends.” you smiled sadly.

Calum felt his state of euphoria falter a little but managed a smile back, “She’d never settle fo’me.” he tried to joke.

Ashton sensing the tension shuffled over behind your chair and wrapped his arms around your neck loosely, “An elitist, our y/n.”

Just like that everyone went back to giggling and drinking pleasantly unaware of the inner turmoil both you and Calum were facing just beside them.

As candlesticks melted down and people’s comfortable buzz gave way to queasiness and exhaustion your party had dwindled to just a few guests waiting for their rides. Calum sat at your kitchen table with his head in his hands, his high was beginning to fade and he could feel a faint headache working it’s way to his temples. You went around your apartment collecting trash and trying to rouse any sleepy guests, including Michael who practically had to be carried out by Ashton and Luke, slurring goodbyes to you and Calum as they struggled through your front door.

As you attempted to tie the trash bag you softly kicked Calum’s calf causing him to look up.

“Hm?”

“I’m basically seeing four of everything,” you groaned. “Can you tie this, please?”

Calum laughed and got up to help, giving you the chance to drop into his chair and throw yourself across the table dramatically. He sat the bag against the wall next to the door and watched you adoringly, your eyes shut and the table squishing your cheek.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Wanna maybe go to your bedroom? I’ve heard through the grapevine it’s got an actual mattress you can sleep on, not just a wooden chair.”

“It’s so far.” you mumbled.

He pulled you up by your arm, letting you slump against him as you walked. You dragged your feet behind you and rubbed your eyes sleepily until you got to your doorway where you promptly stopped and turned your chin up to look at him.

“My necklace,”

“What about it?” he asked, confused.

“Wan’ it off.” You crooked your neck, offering it to him to unburden.

He laughed to himself about how tortured of a position you were currently putting him in and how easily he could latch his lips to the soft skin and put himself out of this misery.

“You’re killing me, you know?”

You only sighed, and nodded for him to unclasp the dainty chain.

“Okay, hold your hair f’me.” he said handing you a makeshift ponytail of your own hair.

You took it and turned so your back was facing him, letting your forehead rest on the doorframe in front of you.

Calum’s fingers tickled the back of your neck as he fiddled with the clasp and goosebumps rose all over your body which shivered lightly.

You felt a few lingering touches and then him pulling the chain off and you spun to face him as he cupped it in his hand. Your faces were inches apart when he gathered your hand and dropped the necklace into it.

“Ready for bed?”

You groaned and looked up, puffing your cheeks and then dropping your jaw in surprise when your eye caught on something hanging above you.

“Mistletoe.” you gasped, in exaggerated shock, pointing to the ball of green hanging from the middle of the frame.

Calum’s eyes pulled to the ceiling slowly and a muttered curse fell from his lips before he looked down to you in agony, “Well would you look at that.”

With a heightened sense of confidence and an alcohol intensified desire to feel his mouth on yours you met his eyes and spoke, “Y’gonna do something about it?”

Looking back at this moment in the future Calum can already tell he’ll be kicking himself and wishing he would’ve taken the chance when he had it but, alas his need to be good and well mannered with you outweighed the feeling that he may burst if he didn’t kiss you as soon as possible.

“You’re drunk,” he said regretfully.

“It’s Christmas.” you countered, throwing in some puppy dog eyes as if Calum’s wasn’t already dying inside.

He took your face in his hands, “As much as this is killing me to say,” he paused. “and I mean killing me, we’ll have to do it another time. That way you might actually remember.” He finished with one impassioned kiss on your forehead.

“Now get to bed before you send me to an early grave.” he tutted, guiding you into your room and stealing one more pained look at you before closing the door and exiting your apartment with olympic-like speed.

December 31st

Just as Calum has predicted you had essentially forgotten the near kiss of the Christmas party and could only recall a few fleeting images, Calum inches from your face, your necklace in the palm of his hand, and the one last look he left you with over his shoulder before you fell into your bed and succumbed to sleep.

He had seemed on edge around you lately and when you tried to snuggle into him on the walk to the designated New Year’s Eve bar you were stunned when he recoiled slightly and tried to cover by bending over and tying a shoelace that was already tied.

The bar was even more crowded then it had been last year when you had accompanied Ashton and met the three other men who had become regular fixtures in your life.

“Tequila shots?” Luke asked as the five of you approached the bar.

You gagged and shook your head aggressively, “No way in hell. I’m gonna stick with a vodka cran.”

Calum was hit with a wave of nostalgia as he remembered you a year ago to the day under his arm, vodka cranberry in hand and a smile that had him under your spell for every day since.

Luke got shots for everyone else and you settled into a booth, this time with you sharing a side with Ashton and Michael while Calum sat parallel. When Luke returned he slid in next to Calum and they both finished their first shots with one quick swig.

“I can’t believe it’s been a year.” Ashton marveled, after biting a lime slice and stuffing it into his now empty shot glass. He elbowed your side, “Aren't you glad I dragged you out with me that night?”

You smiled and leaned on his shoulder, “Course I am.”

Calum stared at you with an indistinguishable expression on his face and you kicked his foot under the table.

“Where’s your head at?”

He shrugged and looked down.

The other guys shared a look and Michael chimed in, “We need to get a few drinks in Cal, he’s been mopey since Christmas.”

Embarrassed, his head shot up, “You know I don’t like New Year’s” he argued. “I’m getting another drink.” he pushed Luke with his hip, signaling him to let him out of the booth.

After downing three more shots at the bar he made his way back to the booth with a beer in hand. You were all laughing at the table and he felt a surge of annoyance as you threw your head back and stirred your drink around with your straw.

How could you be acting like nothing had happened that night? Even if you didn’t remember the almost kiss you had to remember all the lingering touches and wanting looks. How could you let him drown in desire when you had basically asked him to kiss you not two weeks ago?

Instead of making Luke get out again Calum took the outside seat when he sat back down. He swirled his beer until the foam disappeared and remained relatively absent from the conversation, only chiming in when absolutely necessary.

Your mood was dampened by his mood and his standoffish attitude toward you, you thought the two of you had gotten past this back in October and really didn’t want to start out the New Year with him practically ignoring your existence.

The drinking continued and by the time everyone had gotten to the dopey smile and over sharing level of intoxication it was nearly midnight. Calum had loosened up a bit but was still not meeting your eyes and avoiding your conversation. It was driving you crazy and the more drunk you got the more rejected you felt and the more keen you were to throw a temper tantrum in the middle of the bar.

“I need a smoke.” Calum said exiting the booth, finishing his current beer with one last gulp.

You waited one minute until you were excusing yourself and heading into the cold to confront the most confusing guy you knew.

As your back retreated through the bar Ashton laughed between sips of his pint, “Any bets on whether they’ll get their shit together before the clock strikes?”

“One can only hope.” Luke replied, watching the door shut behind you.

Calum was pulling on his cigarette and kicking a rock with the toe of his shoe, when a stomping noise approached him, making him look up startled.

“He-” he started.

“What is your problem tonight?” you interrupted, snatching his cigarette and taking a sizely hit.

“Um…” he stared through the smoke you had blown between the two of you and dropped his mouth unsure what to say.

“Well?”

“I don’t really know what you’re talking about.”

“Save it, Cal. You always get like this, it’s like one second we’re best friends and all touchy and shit and then you do a complete 180 and act as if you’ve never met me before. So what exactly am I missing here?”

Anger and passion buzzed just beneath his skin and he took his cigarette back from you, straightening as he inhaled the tobacco.

“I knew you wouldn’t remember.”

You groaned and waved your hand through the air. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. What does that mean? I can’t understand your half statements and mood swings.” you sighed, frustrated by his nonchalant stance. “Tell me if I'm completely off here but I swear sometimes I think you're gonna kiss me or something and then next thing I know I’m being slapped in the face with a month of avoidance. So just…please let me know what’s going on in your head cause I really can’t do another year of constant whiplash. My neck’s starting to hurt.” you finished dryly.

Calum stared at you bewildered and nervous and every emotion you can think of because he was really feeling all of them.

“You asked me to kiss you at your Christmas party,” he said.

You shook your head in denial and mentally recounted the night. “No I didn’t.”

He studied the sidewalk and scoffed quietly, mind running a mile a minute. “Yes, you did. When I was putting you to bed.”

“I-” Suddenly you were feeling confused and hurt by the idea that he had rejected you. “Why didn’t you?”

He glanced at you and felt a gross itching move up his throat at the thought he may have made you feel unwanted as he took in the sad glossy film that had covered your eyes. He took a step closer and reached out for your hand which you pulled away timidly.

“You were drunk.” he said grievously. “I-I wanted you to remember.”

“So,” you asked quietly. “You did want to kiss me?”

He laughed bitterly and tugged his bottom lip into his mouth, “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to this year.”

You stepped into his space and took his cigarette, putting it out under your heel. “Do you still want to?”

Five…

He nodded.

Four…

“Really?”

Three…

“You have no idea.”

Two…

“So, I guess now is as good a time as any. I mean, right?”

One…

“Y/n, just shut up and let me kiss you please.”

Happy New Year!

You’re not sure how you expected kissing Calum to feel but you don’t think you could’ve even imagined it would be as good as this was. His lips were smooth, he tasted kind of smoky, and when you opened your mouth and let his tongue slide in you swore you could feel him whimper against you.

Everything felt cloudy, in the best way.

Auld Lang Syne poured into the air from the bar and the fireworks erupting overhead couldn’t have fit more to the feeling at the bottom of your stomach.

Calum’s movements were desperate, he had been starved for a year and now he was feasting. All grabby hands and satisfied sighs.

You knew you needed to breathe but you couldn’t get enough and why the hell was breathing so important anyway? This felt much better.

“I don’t know how,” Calum said, raggedly after eventually pulling apart. “But that was so much better than I’ve imagined.

“Glad I lived up to the expectations.” you returned, still catching your breath.

“No,” he praised, gripping your waist, his thumbs running across your heaving stomach. “Baby, you’ve exceeded them. Blew me out of the water.” He left another quick but strong peck on your bitten lips. “I’m hooked now, you’ve got me.”

“I can’t breathe right now.” you admitted, pressing your hand to his chest.

“I know. Isn’t it great?”

You smiled and leaned in again, needing more. Calum was more than happy to oblige.

You smiled against his lips, “We should go back in.”

He groaned.

“It’s a new year, our friends will want to celebrate with us.”

He slid his hands down your back and pressed a few kisses to your neck, “This feels more important.”

“You’re a bad friend.” you laughed, his nose poking your jaw.

“Mhm,” he hummed, peppering kisses over your face. “I’m a really good boyfriend though.”

“Are you?” you laughed, elated with how your year was starting.

“Wanna find out?”

You kissed him and nodded against his lips, “Yes please.”

“You’re making my year here.” he grinned widely.

You glanced at the door.

He sighed, “Okay let’s face the masses.”

“Cal, it’s three people.”

“I think I’d just rather be alone with you right now.”

“We have plenty of time for that.” you promised, pulling him behind you back inside.

Hands intertwined, you returned to the table and were met with three expectant glances and teasing smiles.

“Well, would you look at that?” Luke laughed.

“Surprised?” you asked

“Not even a little bit.”

Calum hooked his arm around your neck and kissed your head contently, “Only a year in the making.”

taglist: @dontworryyouwontbelonely @lietomevpr @itsme-bee @molliecousins @rexorangecouny @curlybrownhairedboys @saturnspearl @xxxlaura @loveylangdon @colourfulcal @slipawaylrh @torynicholsgf @imightcry-blog

#5sos imagine #5sos imagines #fanfiction #calum hood one shots #calum hood x fem!reader #calum hood x reader #calum hood x you #calum hood x y/n #calum hood imagine #calum hood #calum hood angst #calum hood fluff

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emmyhem · 3 years

Text

job well done (l.r.h)

a/n: hi!! long time no post. so i’m finally back posting again, i’ve been really busy with work recently and haven’t been feeling as motivated to write when i’m off but I was finally able to get this one ready to post. so this is part two of “don’t mind the heat” with assistant!y/n, it’s mostly smut so if that’s not your favorite i’m gonna be posting a childhood bff!luke piece soon. anyway I hope you’re all doing well, comments and criticisms are always appreciated. if you have any suggestions or ideas, while my requests are closed, there’s a form further down on my blog called “what’s next” where you can give me a suggestion of what you’d like to see and vote for which of my wips i’ll be posting next. with that all being said, I hope you enjoy - emmy <333

pairing: luke hemmings x assistant!y/n

summary: it’s finally time for you and luke’s first date and you were promised a night of movies, and popcorn. but how much watching will you really be doing?

warning(s): swearing, smut, oral sex (female receiving)

word count: 3.4k

pt.1

“Don’t psych yourself out, it’s just Luke.” your friend said from where she sat on your bed watching you obsessively tuck and untuck your hair behind your ear, unsure which way suits you best.

It’s just Luke.

Only it’s not just Luke, it’s Luke your boss. Luke who somehow manages to awaken slews of butterflies in your tummy from just entering the room. Luke who writes your paychecks. Luke who gave you the best night of your life. It’s Luke and that’s a big deal.

“I feel like I have a giant pit in my stomach.” you admitted, finally deciding on tucking behind your ears.

“Eat something babe.” she suggested.

You swallowed thickly, scrunching up your face in disgust.

“I can’t, I'll throw up.” you responded, the idea of mixing food with your colossal nerves making you slightly nauseous.

Your friend stood to her feet, walking up to where you sat at your vanity and placing both hands on your shoulders.

“There’s no reason to be worried, okay? From what you’ve told me the kid’s essentially obsessed with you.”

You smiled down to your lap at her words.

“I really like him.” you mumbled, not looking up. “What if I get all awkward and fidgety like I normally get on dates?”

“You won’t.” she assured.

“Oh my god, I totally will.” you groaned. “I’ll get all choked up, and I won’t even know what to say when I see him.”

“y/n, you see him literally everyday.”

“This is different.” you argued.

Things were different now.

Some things had remained the same since you had returned from the trip about a week and a half ago. You still went to work each day, completed your tasks, spent copious amounts of time walking in the harsh California heat with Petunia, and then made your way back to your apartment to binge watch tacky rom-coms in the privacy of your bedroom. But there were some small changes since the trip, like Luke no longer greeting you each morning with a casual wave but instead by pressing a quick kiss to your lips, followed by a heartfelt mumble of, “G’morning, missed you.”

Other than your quick interactions in the morning you hadn’t been seeing much of him, the album process was moving along quickly and he’d been at the studio almost all the time, normally returning after you had already gone home for the night. Due to his newly busy schedule the anticipated first date had to wait, but that morning as you arrived, bright and early to take Petunia to the groomers, Luke had mentioned he wouldn’t be working late.

“Up for a movie tonight?” he had questioned casually before heading out.

“Like a date?”

“Our first date.” he said, grinning ear to ear. “If I’m remembering correctly, I promised you a Marvel movie, and Petunia.”

“And popcorn.” you interrupted, making him laugh.

“And popcorn.” he repeated to assure you. “Anyway, I managed to convince Mike to let me borrow some of his DVDs, so if you’re free?”

“I’m free.” you blurted out, so eagerly you were almost embarrassed.

“Great. I have to head to the studio right now, but I’ll text you the time.” he said, crossing the room to leave a peck on your cheek. “Can’t wait.” he continued as he pulled away.

As you went about your day, the date approaching quickly, a bundle of nerves had started to build in your stomach causing you to panic by the time you had gotten back to your apartment. In need of moral support you called over your friend who essentially held your hand through the entire getting ready process, giving her input on possible outfits, and making the final call on what lipgloss you’d later be leaving traces of on Luke’s lips. Now as you sat in your room putting your shoes on, 20 minutes until you had to go to Luke’s she was providing you with words of encouragement, and, annoyingly, stressing the importance of condom use.

“I promise I’ll be safe.” you guaranteed, crossing the room to smack a kiss to her cheek. “You were a huge help tonight, thank you. I’ve gotta head out but you can stay as long as you want, just lock the door when you leave?”

“You got it.” she nodded. “Just don’t drive yourself crazy, you’ll do great.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat and thanked her once more before heading out to your car.

As you put your keys in the ignition your phone dinged from where it sat in your cup holder. When you picked it up it revealed a text from Luke with a picture of Petunia sprawled across the couch, the message underneath read, “Patiently awaiting your arrival.” and it made you wonder why you were so nervous in the first place. There’s no way you could embarrass yourself, Luke wouldn’t let you.

The drive was quick and easy, you took the same route everyday to work so it was essentially muscle memory at this point. As you pulled into the driveway you gave yourself one more internal pep talk and reapplied a thin layer of cherry flavored gloss onto your lips before heading to the door. Luke swung it open before you even had the chance to knock, Petunia sitting by his feet panting excitedly.

“Hi.” he chirped, his body falling slack against the doorway as he took in your near ethereal state.

“Hi.” you returned, snaking your arms around his torso as you entered.

“Y’look gorgeous.” he praised, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“Not so bad yourself.” you returned, nuzzling further into his side.

You wandered through the kitchen, Luke's hands trailing further down your skin as you walked towards the living room.

He explained how his day was as you walked, grabbing a bag of popcorn on the way. You nodded along and offered words of praise when he explained that they had a very productive day in the studio.

“How ‘bout you?” he asked after finishing his recount of the day.

At this point you had made it into the living room, and had -unfortunately- detached from one another. You dropped to the couch and Luke stood by the tv, fiddling with the dvd player.

“Well,” you started. “First I took Pig to the groomers, but you already knew that.”

As if on cue Petunia clambered into the room, nearly knocking Luke off his feet as she made her way to you.

You laughed and reached out a hand to rub her head affectionately.

“Did you hear us talking about you, pretty girl?

“I need to put some distance between the two of you.” Luke teased. “It’s like I don’t even exist when you’re around.”

“We have a connection.” you threw back. “It’s a girl thing, you wouldn’t understand.”

Luke laughed and gathered a few DVDs in his hand, muttering, “Snubbed again.”

“Movie time?” you asked.

“Infinity war?” he responded, holding up the disc.

“Not unless you want to deal with the aftermath of Peter disappearing, and it involves a lot of tears.”

Luke raised an eyebrow at you.

“I have a soft spot for Tom Holland.” you added, pressing a hand to your heart.

“Right then,” he laughed. “Iron Man?”

“Excellent choice.”

As the intro played Luke settled beside you, hip to hip, and close enough that he could lean his head on your shoulder comfortably when the opportunity presented itself.

You watched intently, grateful for the distraction from his mind muddling proximity, only getting interrupted by Luke’s repetitive yawning.

“Are you tired?” you asked when he yawned for the third time within the span of ten minutes.

“Hm?” he quipped, straightening his posture. “Not really.”

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“A little bit,” he admitted. “It was just a busy day in the studio today. I’m really more mentally drained than tired.”

“Here,” you said, scooting a bit further down the couch. You patted your lap as an indication for him to lay his head down. “When I was in highschool and I’d be super stressed or had a really long day my mom would play with my hair for hours and it would really help me to relax.” you explained. “It works like a charm, promise.”

“Are you sure this isn’t an excuse for you to touch my hair?” he teased, already moving towards you.

“Caught me.” you shot back.

As Luke settled, curling his legs up in an effort to keep them from hanging off the couch, your hand found its way into his hair, stroking lightly from the root.

He hummed in content as your movements found a steady rhythm.

“Feels nice.”

“Happy to help.” you muttered, turning your attention back to Robert Downey Jr.

Only five minutes or so had passed before your focus on the movie was stolen once again, this time by the feeling of Luke’s hand, which had been resting on your knee, inching further up your skin, pausing sporadically to run his fingers across the smooth surface.

“Luke, what’re you doing?” you asked through shallow breaths.

“Nothing.” he returned, feigning innocence.

You huffed quietly in frustration, but attempted to continue watching, as his hand had become stationary again.

That lasted all of 2 minutes.

“Luke,” you sighed.

“What?”

“I thought you were tired.”

“M’not anymore.” he mumbled, pinching the skin of your upper thigh.

You jerked a bit but remained relatively unfazed.

“Good, we’ve got a movie to watch.”

“Or we could do something else.” he preened quietly, turning his head so he could nudge the spot he had pinched with his nose, as if soothing his previous actions.

Only there was nothing soothing about it, and you were anything but relaxed. You could practically feel your arousal spreading in the light blue lace panties you had selected earlier that night.

“They match his eyes.” you had teased, flinging them across the room to your friend, who dodged them easily and gave you a disapproving look.

“You’re odd.” she laughed, shaking her head.

It was hard to laugh about them now as your mind turned to mush and the only thing it could conjure up was vivid images of Luke ripping them off of you.

Luke’s voice broke you from your thoughts, “Missed you.” he hummed sweetly.

Your fingers unconsciously tightened on his hair eliciting a subtle groan.

“Missed you too.”

As you spoke your eyes drifted down his features, cataloguing them in your brain.

Luke could feel your eyes on him, practically burning into his head, making it exponentially harder for him to keep his hands to himself for much longer.

He darted his gaze up to you, slyly muttering, “You’re missing the movie baby.”

You sighed lightly at the pet name, your breath catching as Luke sat up abruptly, capturing your face in his hands.

His lips slotted effortlessly against yours.

Your brief kisses over the past week had no comparison to what you were experiencing now, fireworks erupting in your brain, and nerves buzzing in your stomach.

The kiss was nowhere near perfect, in fact it was needy and a bit sloppy but each time your tongue collided with his you felt dizzy and desperate, for his hands, his mouth, him.

As his kisses traveled down your jaw to your neck your head dropped to the side, making your eye catch on the tv.

“Luke, the movie.” you reminded, your voice taut.

“We’ll finish it in the morning.” he breathed, clicking it off in one swift motion.

“Bit presumptuous to assume I’ll be staying the night.”

“Bit presumptuous to assume there’s anyway I’m letting you out of my bed after I'm done with you.” he threw back before smacking a quick kiss to your neck and pulling you to your feet.

The walk to Luke’s bedroom was a blur of explorative hands and teasing words, your need for him taking you there in record time.

When your back eventually knocked against his bedroom door, pressing him against you snugly, he tugged greedily on the clothes covering your burning skin.

“Lu” you mewled, your hand searching aimlessly for the doorknob.

By the time you found it, both of you stumbling clumsily into the room, you were almost completely naked.

Luke’s eyes, completely fogged with lust, wracked over the vast expanse of skin in front of him, his hands itching with need beside him.

After seamlessly guiding you over to the bed he pulled his shirt over his head, allowing you a chance to admire the tensing of his muscles as he stretched his arms into the air.

You dropped to the mattress, making it bounce a bit beneath you.

“So pretty.” Luke said, running a knuckle lightly across your collarbone. You shivered under the touch, making him grin smugly.

“Lay back back for me, baby?”

You compliantly laid flat, Luke’s hands tight on your hips.

His fingers traced slowly down your thighs causing you to languidly throw your head back.

“Need to taste you” he announced, voice gruff, fingers running across your hips lightly.

You agreed with a breathy moan, bucking your hips up in the process.

His hands gripped tightly on either side of you, fingers marking your hips in light purple bruises that looked nearly too pretty for him to handle.

When his tongue finally met the sensitive area of nerves just above the place where you needed him most you jerked upwards, clenching around nothing as his tongue explored the new area.

He had been fantasizing about tasting you since the night at the vacation house, wanting nothing more than his tongue relentlessly flicking over the tightly wound bud until you had that hazy, fucked look in your eyes that turned him into putty in your hand.

His hands remained tightly secured to your hips which were thrusting up eagerly, despite his hold.

“So fucking soaked f’me” he groaned, fingers lazily running over the sopping area beneath him.

“I could take you so easily baby” he continued, lightly tracing his tongue over your opening, making you clench. “Slip in so nicely,”

“Please,” you breathed, tightly.

“D’ya need me, love?” he teased, cruelly.

You nodded repeatedly, body lying exhausted on the mattress.

“Need you, Lu.” you begged.

In between strategically placing kisses across your hips and thighs, he spoke, “Been needing you all week, I could hardly get any work done knowing you were sitting at my house all by yourself.”

The hazy image of your body pressed so tightly against his made getting anything done nearly impossible. Every strum on his guitar reminded him of how flawlessly your fingers had played him. Every grueling harmony at the very top of his register echoed one of your sweet and haunting sighs of pleasure.

So, for his time spent at the studio Luke was left wondering how he was supposed to focus on making new music when the the music the two of you had created together was on a constant loop in his mind.

And he desperately needed more.

He continued to run his tongue across your heat, his movements being the exact opposite of how he was feeling. He moved slowly against you, unrushed, and thorough.

Your tear filled eyes locked on the ceiling, squeezing shut each time the tip of his nose bumped your clit.

“Oh,” you choked when you felt two fingers begin a gentle prod at your needy opening.

Luke groaned at your sounds of pleasure while circling your entrance teasingly.

“Need something, Luke. Please.” you begged, as his fingers continued their mocking assault.

He mouthed eagerly at your bare chest and slipped a finger in seamlessly, making you yelp in need.

When you clenched around his single digit he spoke, “Feels good?”

Your head bobbed up and down enthusiastically, hips pushing onto him for a deeper thrust.

“Good, baby.” he praised, teasing another finger.

You whined desperately as a heat traveled down your body, swirling in a flustering pit at the bottom of your stomach.

“Nice and tight f’me, love.” he preened, slipping in another finger and speeding up his thrusts.

When his fingers curled up, brushing against your g-spot you whined loudly.

“Does that feel good, gorgeous? Show me how good you feel. C’mon, come around my fingers.” he commanded, the pacing of his thrusts speeding up significantly.

He loved seeing you blissed out, completely at his mercy, pleasure overtaking you.

You bucked defenselessly against him, chasing your release as satisfied moans and whines passed your lips, only encouraging Luke in his ravenous exploration of your heat.

Reaching your climax, your walls fluttered around his fingers, causing his cock to grow painfully hard in the constrictions of his pants. He offered heartfelt praises of, “good girl” with each spasm of your body while sliding a condom down his tender length.

As you came down from your high, your head feeling lighter, and your body feeling heavier, seemingly sinking further into the mattress, Luke adjusted himself, complimenting your dazed expression as he aligned his aching member with your, now, leaking entrance.

Before pushing into you he leaned down to attach his lips to yours, his tongue running against yours with a heavy sigh.

A high pitched grunt rang through the room as he ran his head through your folds, slowly sliding his lips lazily from your mouth down your jaw.

Breaking apart from you, he spoke through a gruff voice, “Please say you’re ready for me, baby.” you could feel his hot breath against your neck and you unconsciously pushed off the mattress, causing his head to dip into the slippery heat of your cunt.

His breath hitched at the feeling and a quiet cry of approval gave him all the reassurance he needed to bury himself into you, eliciting a throaty yelp.

His forehead fell against yours, the thin sheen of sweat covering the both of you creating a humid atmosphere, completely silent other than the saturated sounds of your bodies crashing together.

“Baby,” he sighed brokenly, the feeling of you so close overwhelming him in record time.

You clenched around him at the pet name, making his eyebrows pull together, his thrusts slowing in an effort to prolong your intimacy.

“You gonna give me one more, angel?” he quipped confidently, the head of his cock nudging overwhelmingly against your most sensitive spot. Each nudge sent a wave of pleasure over your body from the very top of your head to the tips of your toes. The unrelenting pace and force soon left your body numb with it, making you incapable of doing anything but chanting Luke’s name, soft and breathy, and so fucking pretty he would do basically anything to ensure you didn’t stop.

With a particularly forceful prod of your sensitivity your vision went blurry, the fuzzy image of stars overtaking you as your strained cry, accompanied by a throbbing grip on his length brought him to his own climax.

His right hand slammed against the bed frame with a loud smack as you unwinded around him, while his left held your hip tightly, squeezing with each spasm of your hips.

When he pulled out of you, with a hiss, he soothed the empty sting it left behind with a sincere kiss to your hairline.

“So perfect.” he hailed, a hand rubbing soothingly on the sensitive smoothness of your thigh, as he took his spot beside you.

Your bare chest heaved beside him, your head dropping to the side to admire the soft flutter of his eyelids as exhaustion carried across his face.

You felt a fizzle of heat down your legs, carrying all the way to your toes, uncurling as you settled into a comfortable buzz of pleasure.

The feeling of a soft kiss against your shoulder broke you from your cloud of pleasure to see Luke peering up at you in awe.

“Hi, sweet girl.” he spoke softly.

Unsure you had the strength to respond in words you squeaked quietly in response, your shaky hand intertwining with his longingly. The second they clasped his thumb began running faintly across the back of your hand.

He looked towards the ceiling, as if overtaken by the overwhelming reality of your connection.

“M’so gone for you.” he admitted under his breath, as you watched him in admiration.

“Me too.” you agreed in an exhale, turning on your side to snuggle against his warm skin.

His head turned only enough to rest his lips lightly on your hairline, “Stay the night please?”

You nodded against his mouth in agreement, too tired to respond verbally.

“Good, I’m not planning on letting you go anytime soon.”

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