#“cal shut up you’re exaggerating”

[yantao-enthusiast]

genderfluid icon

#“cal shut up you’re exaggerating” #no i’m not. fuck you. #i get to have lgbtq opinions on mario characters #and you can’t stop me!!!! #genderfluid #kamek #kamek koopa #super mario bros #mario #mario and luigi #mario and luigi dream team #actually why am i defending myself. this is the website that made bowuigi. lmao

[gretavanlace]

Decorum and Refinement

Jake Kiszka/Oliver Reed x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, degradation, praise, foreign objects, fingering, oral sex (f/m r), terrible English accent/diction (bc come on, it’s Oliver), etc.

“Do you think you guys’ll ever do the whole masterclass thing again?” The thought, that has been bouncing around in your mind for most of the drive home, spills from your lips before you have a chance to think better of it.

His head swivels over in your direction, but you keep your eyes on the road. “I dunno.” Lazily, he sips at the whiskey he shouldn’t be enjoying in the passenger seat. “Why? That’s a strange question.”

“You would know.” You smile, stealing a quick glance over at him. He looks sinful, relaxed back in his seat, legs spread wide, cut-crystal glass he stole from Josh’s sweating in his hand.

“Why would I know?” He grins back. “Are you trying to imply that I’m strange?”

“No!” Your inflection is exaggerated to showcase the lie. “Would I ever say something like that about you, Jake? My beloved. My prince. Love of my life. Keeper of my—“

“Oh, shut up.” He laughs, cutting you off. “And stop dodging. Why’d you ask?”

Now it’s your turn to shrug. “Just making conversation.”

“That’s not true at all.” He challenges. “You never speak just to make noise. Like that about you. Now, out with it.”

“Cal.” You sigh dreamily. “That chef’s hat really does it for me. And when he yelled at the fly? The aggression? Irresistible!”

“Yeah?” He’s in on the joke and playing along. “Verbal attacks against insects kink? Wonder if there’s a name for that?”

“Oh sure…there’s a convention every year, too. You should come scream at some ants with me.”

He takes a long swig of his drink, draining it to the dredges and then lowers his tone. “Yes, thank you, darling. That sounds lovely.”

A shiver tickles up your spine as Oliver peeks out, but he pretends not to notice, and you pretend it hasn’t happened.

You’re safe with Jake, and he is always more than willing to dip into uncharted waters with you…but it’s inexplicably embarrassing; this thing you have for his ridiculous alter-ego.

The way he speaks, so grizzled and rough. Seemingly hardened from years of cigars and Jack. Harsh and clipped, unbothered by anyone’s bullshit.

The swagger in his walk, like he knows everyone in the room wants to fuck him and he hasn’t the time to deal with them, but he’ll give ‘em a bit of a show anyway.

The accent. Even though it’s barely passable at times. A cobbled together mix of dialect he’s picked up through movies and travel, and bits that don’t really make much sense at all, at times. But even that seems terribly Oliver. As if he’s said, “Well, alright then, I’m English, but I’m not like the rest of these cunts.”

That stupid cane. That stupid, unbelievably sexy, fucking cane.

~

Now, standing in your kitchen, sifting through a stack of mail, you wonder where he’s gone. Normally he’s a touch clingy after he’s had a round or two, or seven, with his brothers, but he disappeared nearly as soon as the two of you walked in the door.

Likely to his music room to pluck away at an acoustic. Winding down for the night with a vinyl spinning softly in the corner. You’ll go and find him soon, maybe lie down on the crushed velvet couch and let him play you to sleep.

The thought, too cozy to resist, sends you wandering up the stairs, only to find the room dark and quiet. He isn’t there, but the room is so Jake, you’re drawn inside anyway.

It smells of him. The piney scent of gin and sap-dripping trees, beaten up leather, linen, metallic strings…

You wander through, ghosting your fingers over instruments in the moonlight streaming through the windows he fought to leave untreated. “No curtains in this one.” He’d argued. “We’ll let the outside in as it sees fit.”

Your touch lands on a row of guitars, lightly skimming the tops. Electric, acoustic, steel…then moves along to the nomads. The instruments he loves, but leaves to lie in wait. Ukulele, banjo, mandolin, lute, sitar…

A gorgeous, posh, cello waits in the corner regally. He swears one day he’ll teach himself to play it. Just as he promises of the violin resting, beautifully neglected, in its case.

You don’t fault or tease him for these two…if the instrument boasts strings, Jake is drawn to it and hungry to take it home.

“Look at this!” The memory fondly floats into your mind. “It’s called a Balalaika!” He’d reached out for your hand, guiding you to strum over it. “It’s Russian…I ordered it from that place downtown months ago, and it finally came in…listen.” A jaunty little tune had sounded out as his fingers excitedly worked it over.

A soft knock on the open door startles you out of your thoughts and sends you spinning around to find Jake leaning against the door frame.

Only, it isn’t Jake. Not quite…

“So sorry to scare you, love,” He raps the end of his cane against the wooden floor absentmindedly, “But I thought I’d let you know that Jacob is, unfortunately, indisposed for the evening. He thought I might keep you company instead.”

He figured it out. Worked to connect the pieces in that brilliant, pretty head of his. Of course he did.

Gaze drinking him in, you feel parched rather than satiated…he looks like a drunken pirate who has done his best to look presentable for an event at which he fully plans on creating a scene.

Rumpled vest layered over a wrinkled button-up, which is anything but buttoned up. Layers of necklaces swaying gently against his bare chest. Cuffed trousers that highlight the anklet that drives you wild, though you can’t decide why. Scuffed, but clearly expensive loafers made of buttery soft leather…worn out in the most perfect way.

“Look all you like, darling.” He sighs, waving his hand around as though he’s royalty, “I am merely a gallery for the female gaze. Male, too, come to think of it. I suppose I just like to be looked at.”

Your cheeks flush with heat…this is silly, right? So why is your pulse pounding in your ears? Amongst other places… “Jake,”

He saunters forward and tilts your chin up with the glossy handle of his cane “I’m sorry, but I’ve already told you. Jake’s not here. Try and keep up, girl, ‘right?”

Hands now clutched around the lapels of his vest you tuck your chin submissively against his cane and finally allow it to sigh off of your tongue… “Hello, Oliver.”

“Hello, love.” He raises your face a touch higher, until he can brush his lips over yours. “If I wasn’t so fond of our boy, I might fuck his pretty thing right here. His favorite room…his favorite girl,” He reaches down and cups his warm palm over your cunt, “Wouldn’t that be bloody dreadful of me?”

“I won’t tell him.” You breathe, sinking into the narrative.

“Oh, I’ve got a wretched little witch in my arms, don’t I?” he’s walking you backwards now, leading you towards the wall. “Willing to let Oliver slip it inside like a common whore when Jacob just loves you so much? Naughty. Disgusting. Vile.”

The air knocks out of your lungs as your back hits the wall. “Dirty girl thinks she needs a bit of cock, when what she really needs is a priest to absolve her of all this sin. Shall I call Father Sam? You can repent and say your Hail Marys and then ruin all your hard work on your knees for me.”

“Fuck repenting…” your legs wrap around his waist, searching for friction. “I’ll go to hell and burn for you.”

“Wonderful,” he takes pity and grinds against your cunt. “I’ll see you there…we’ll rot together.”

His hand is wandering down now, between the two of you, seeking to disappear into your jeans, which you wish would also disappear. “Jake…please, just fucking touch me.”

“Now, now…” he tsks. “That’s all wrong, innit it, girl? Can you say it right for me? Behave for Oliver and stop thinking with your head, hmm? Think with that pretty cunt… my bet’s she knows who she wants.”

A noise you would absolutely die if you ever had to admit to, sounds out of you. “Touch me, Oliver…please…I need it…”

His fingers inch away from where you need them most, “Where?” He circles your belly button. “Right here? You know, I’m bit drunk, darling…a touch inebriated. So sorry to ask, but, I’ll need you to be specific.”

Another moan of frustration escapes you.

“C’mon then…” now his hands are shoving your shirt up. “Tell Oliver what you need.” He tugs your tits free and a raspy laugh greets them like he’s never laid eyes upon them before “Hello, dolls. Beautiful.”

His mouth is suddenly relentless. Licking and sucking and groaning softly against your nipples as you pant and silently pray for his cock to force him into further action.

“Tell me where.” He mouths around your nipple.

“You know where.” Your hands are in his hair now…tugging and pulling.

He drops to his knees and yanks your jeans down to your ankles, taking your panties along with them. “Well hello, lovely girl.” He growls out, nuzzling his nose against your clit. “Name’s Oliver, and I’m about to show you a fucking fantastic time.”

You’re propped against a wall, in this seemingly sacred room where he creates, writhing and whining with your panties at your feet while he carries on a little conversation with your aching pussy. You wish you could say that you feel badly for it, but you’ve never been the best liar.

“You’ve met my mate Jacob…” he continues. “Nice enough, but…” his tongue swirls over your clit and a sob rips from your chest. “Bit upper crust, isn’t he?”

“Darling…” He looks up, drawing you into the conversation he’s been having with your desperate cunt.

“Our Jakey…does he do this for you? Does he get on his knees to kiss her as sweet as she deserves?” His eyes, clear and unashamed of the depravity of it all, stare up at you.

“Yes…” it trembles out weakly as you try your hardest to force him in closer.

“Ahh…” he sounds very proud of Jake, indeed. “That’s my boy.”

Momentarily, you adopt an accent of your own. “He’s lovely, Oliver. Now, give us a kiss.”

“M’only regret is that I’ve shaved.” He drags his finger over his smooth jawline and kisses at your clit. “Might’ve been nice to smell as pretty as you do all night.”

“Couldn’t find the beard?” You tease breathily.

He winks up at you in confirmation and promptly buries his face between your thighs, sucking softly until your legs are struggling under the weight of your quivering body.

“Take me over to the couch.” You whisper, imagining the gentle kiss of velvet against your flushed skin.

“Sofa.” He corrects as though he’s lord of the manor. Then he’s on his feet, sweeping you off of yours, as if you are the lady of said manor. “You damned Americans. Common. The lot of you.”

He deposits you tenderly, but orders roughly, “Let’s get rid of this nonsense…” gesturing dismissively at your state - half-dressed and disheveled. “I’d like to get on with it.”

His cane has somehow found its way home, nestled in his grip. He catches you staring at it as you hastily strip as instructed.

“That was a mistake, girl…” he taunts. “You should learn to hold those filthy cards closer to your chest. Spread your legs, love. Let Oliver see tonight’s stage.” He bows gently, “I am but a thespian.”

You open wide for him, spreading until your hips flare with a dull ache. “Please, Mr. Reed…make me feel good. Jake never has to know.”

“I think someone who’s about to fuck herself with my cane deserves to address me a little less formally, don’t you, darling?”

The smug smile swept across his lips makes you want to cry tears of frustration…he is just so fucking beautiful. Instead, you moan wantonly at the mere thought.

“Nasty little bit likes that, doesn't she?” He’s really leaning into it now. “Wants Oliver’s cane right in her sweet, pink, cunt? You look so tight, think you can even take it, love?”

He speaks as if he’s never been inside you before…fingers tucked in, fucking against the perfect spot. Cock stuffed inside, making you see stars and wishing for it to never end.

He returns the nod you offer.

“Right then,” he tosses the cane at you and you, thankfully, catch it like a pro. “On with it.”

You’re so lost in him you begin inching the bottom closer to yourself, but he puts a quick stop to it. “No, sweetheart, what’s been on the ground doesn’t deserve the perfection you’ve got there between those thighs. Handle, yeah?”

Eyes on his, you guide the handle to your mouth, licking and sucking it as if you aren’t already so dripping wet it’ll slip right inside.

“Thank you, Oliver.” You fix your fucked out doe eyes on his blushing face.

“What for, little love?” He asks - a bit of cockney coloring that ramshackle accent of his.

“For letting me use your cane.” You clarify with put-on innocence. “I just need to cum so badly.”

“S’that right?” He taps his foot, pupils blown as he moves in closer. “Pretty thing just needs to cum so badly?”

“So badly.” The cool handle of his cane begins nudging at your entrance.

“Go on, then, Miss America…” he rasps. “Let’s treat her right, shall we? Together? Can’t have you running back to tell Jacob I made you do all the work, now can I?”

“Thought we weren’t telling Jacob?” You smile softly.

“Oh, my dear girl.” He smiles right back. “You think he doesn’t know your body well enough to know when you’ve gotten off properly? Even when you’re all alone and you think it’s a secret. He knows, love…he knows.”

“How does he know?” You slip his cane inside and bite back a whimper.

“I’m not exactly in the habit of asking him about his beautiful girl and how he knows when she’s enjoyed an orgasm…but I s’pose I could guess if you’d like.”

“Yeah…” your back arches away from the couch as you slide against a particularly sensitive spot inside with his cane. Fuck, with his cane…the vulgarity of it makes you tremble.

“Alright then, love…” he sinks to his knees before you and kitten licks at your clit. “If I had to make an educated guess - and I’m very educated - I’d venture that you might get a bit…loose limbed, yeah? Languid and gentle. The prettiest baby…”

“Whose fucking baby is this?!” You interject, with the smallest of giggles, because you just can’t help it, and he gives you a look that could kill.

“Settle down.” His fingers swat at your thigh just hard enough to sting.

“Did I ruin the mood?” You tease.

In response, he slides his cane out, replacing it with two long, warm, fingers to find you soaked and squeezing. “Doesn’t feel like you’ve ruined anything at all. What a pretty little wreck she is. How’s Jakey boy ever get anything done?”

Your hands are buried in his hair again, yanking him in until his mouth is kissing, soft and hot, along your neck. “I have to force him to leave me alone. He wants it all the time.”

His fingers are moving inside of you like heaven…circling and massaging against that perfect place, rather than fucking in and out. “S’that right? Just wants to live buried inside this tight little cunt, does he? Can’t say I blame him.”

Grinding shamelessly into his hand, you pitch your voice gentle and quiet, in the way you know he can’t resist “You wanna fuck me and find out why?”

“You couldn’t handle it, darling.” His teeth sink deliciously into your throat until you shudder and pull at fistfuls of his tangled hair. “Oliver’s not got a gentle bone in his body. I’d tear Jacob's pretty girl apart.”

Your shoulders shiver, his voice, like cashmere over sandpaper, huffing so menacingly in your ear. “Oh, someone likes that…” you can hear the half-smirk in his tone, though your eyes have fluttered closed.

“Tell Oliver how much your pretty cunt loves him already. Does she, darling?” You can’t help the way you clench around his fingers any more than you can help the ragged sound that gasps from your parted lips. “Hmm, feels like she does. I said, tell me.”

Tears are burning in your eyes, he’s gotten you so close, but he’s holding back just enough to keep you right there, watching you intently, eyes trained for your body’s tells.

“I need more,” the tears are falling now, and you know he adores every single one of them. “Need to cum.”

Instead, he slows down even more and lessens the pressure. “Does he let you act like a brat, or’s the pleasure all mine? I asked you for something, and I expect you to give it to me.”

“Yes…” you nod frantically, lifting your head to find his eyes. He offers a lazy wink like a smug bastard. “She loves you, Oliver.”

But it isn’t good enough. “Who loves me?”

“My cunt…” you rush on, eager to give him what he wants in order to get what you’re after. “She loves you. Now, please, baby…c’mon.”

“S’right she does. Just look at her soaking my hand so pretty. Sucking my fingers in. Greedy little baby, isn’t she?”

“Please?” You whine pathetically and he hums in approval.

“Love a girl with manners.” He’s teasing now, with both his words and too gentle touch. “Reminds me of a someone I used to know, she’d beg so nicely for my cum whenever she was thirsty.”

Your nails dig into his wrist in warning and it sparks a laugh out of him. “Jacob didn’t tell me you had such a jealous streak, girl. I like that very much.”

Finished with his games, you reach down and find your clit, stroking quick, slick circles over it. Writhing and panting, trying to get there before he stops you.

Rather than scolding, he praises, as his fingers begin moving with a purpose deep inside you. “That’s it, darling. So pretty. Show me what a filthy girl you are. Take what you need.”

“Faster…” you breathe, barely making a sound as your head drops back, expression twisted up in bliss. “Fuck me faster.”

His hand quickens, working into you at a lightning fast pace until your thighs are shaking and the nails of your free hand are raking over the upholstery.

Here, love…” he hands you his cane to grip instead. “Let’s not ruin the velvet, right?”

All thought has sizzled apart in your brain, so you nod aimlessly and grab it up in your frantic grip, squeezing around it so hard it stings your palm, though you don’t much register it.

“Gonna cum,” you manage to whisper.

“Let’s have it then.” He encourages, reaching up to stroke your cheek as he twists his wrist, scissoring those perfect fingers inside your fluttering cunt. “Come on, darling, let’s go.”

That’s what does it. It isn’t his hand, or even your own, that finally pushes you over the edge, it’s those gravley, coaxing words, in that fucking addicting accent. It’s Oliver, he’s what does it.

A near scream moans out of you, and he’s suddenly wrenching the cane out of your hand, only to place it between your teeth; a makeshift bit as he growls into your ear. “Keep quiet, girl. What if he’s back? Wouldn’t want him to hear your cumming all over Oliver’s hand like a whore, would you?”

You thrash and fight through your orgasm beneath him, teeth sinking marks into the wood stifling your incoherent cries.

“S’good, sweetheart. That’s lovely. Plan to shut that pretty mouth up with my cock next. Would you like that? Has he throat trained his gorgeous girl yet? Will you be able to swallow me right down?”

He knows you’re too gone to answer, he’s simply winding you tighter, working you through, but keeping you stirred up enough that you’ll be eager to suck him off rather than float off to sleep, after. Clever, devious, delectable, man.

You’ve pushed him away and fallen to your knees the second you can breathe again.

“Love a pretty girl on her knees.” He muses, brushing the hair away from your blushing face. “My cock hurts from watching you. You’re a dream when you cum, love.”

The metal of his belt clinks into the room like wind chimes as you pull it open. “Can I fix it?”

His response comes lazing out, thick with accent, with a Jack Sparrow wave of his hand “You may.”

You pull his cock into the cool night air and sigh, “Its so pretty.” And it is, it really fucking is.

Licking a warm, wet stripe along the side, you end with a swirl just below the tip, smiling when a shiver rattles through him.

“Is that the spot right there, Oliver?” You purr as if you don’t know. “Does that feel good?”

“Perfect, darling.” A tiny pant of a breath escapes him, making you crave more.

Sucking him in softly with a warm kiss, you wait until his hands find your hair with a tug, and then swallow him down to the base - allowing a gag just to let him feel your throat constrict around him.

With a choked groan, he holds your head still and buries in a little deeper. “So he did train you…or is this natural talent?”

He knows the answer as well as you. And you flush with heat at the countless memories of him nudging further and further down your throat; gently teaching you how to take a bit more each night until you could welcome him in one go without batting an eye.

Still, he pulls you off and tilts your head up by your hair, raising a brow in question.

“He taught me.” You blink up innocently. “I didn’t know how before, but he was so patient with me while I learned. Let me show you.”

“Jesus, fuck.” Jake appears for just a split second before he shakes it off.

Back in character now, he pulls you back down around him. “Go on, then, love. Swallow it down nice and sweet.”

You pull out every stop, every trick in the book. Every little thing that has ever made him moan in surprise, or thrust into your mouth…he gets it.

Your nose is pressed against the soft plush of his stomach when his fingers tighten in your hair. “That’s so good, darling. You’re so good. Gonna hold you still, fuck that pretty face, that alright, love?”

You nod eagerly around him and swallow just to feel his body tense up in pleasure. You get your wish and beam inwardly with pride.

“Did that on purpose, dinnit you, girl?” He hisses, grabbing for the upper hand. “You’re gonna get it now.”

He taps your face, a subtle reminder of how you should tap if you need to stop, and then - without warning, begins fucking your mouth. It’s hard, and deep, and fast, and sloppy…wet sounds that should make you blush echoing through the room. It’s dirty and slightly uncomfortable. It’s all of those things, but it’s perfect.

Staring down at you, with eyes so full of love and lust it makes your heart ache, he nods. “Good girl, darling. Good girl. You look like a bloody angel, cock down your throat, letting me fuck it like this. You just want to make me feel good, don’t you?”

You answer with your eyes.

“S’right, love.” He slides in deep and groans in appreciation when you ripple your tongue. “Again.”

Tongue working him as best you can, you let him hold you there until your lungs are screaming for air. He pulls you off when he feels the slight struggle, lets you catch your breath and then shoves right back in.

When his thrusts begin to falter you grow desperate to taste him, but at the last minute, he yanks free, one hand still tangled in the roots of your hair, the other fisting over his cock.

“Open up.” He demands, sounding weak, and so close you could cry you want it so badly.

Your mouth falls open, and you present your tongue in waiting.

“Gonna feed it to you, girl.” He pants, gritting his teeth. “Would you like that? You want to taste me?”

Resting your hands primly in your lap, you nod. “Yes, please.”

Your little display of innocent decorum while asking for something so depraved sends his end crashing into him wildly. He jerks his cock roughly through it, warm cum spurting into your mouth and splashing across your cheeks and lips.

Accepting it all, happily, you wait until his shoulders slump with a drawn out fuck, before closing your mouth to savor him.

He stares down at you for a long, smoldering, stretch and then tucks himself away before leaning in. “Looks like I’ve made a mess. I’ve been known to do that, y’know. Apologies.”

With a kiss, though your lips are still dripping with him, he straightens and stretches. “You wait here, darling. I’ll go fetch Jacob to clean you up. Not really Oliver’s thing. You understand.”

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[mongooseblues]

His Cold at the Party

Observations from the Random Access Horny Memories of Ayush Pujari — III

This works as its own self-contained story, but there’s also Observation I and Observation II in this little series. This one takes place in late November of 2008, which is only very slightly relevant. Featuring a drunk and frustrated Ayush, a sick and drunk Cal, and general gay panic.

- — - — - — - — - — - — - — - — - — - — - — - —

He only identifies it as a hitch in retrospect, but it’s an absurdly loud hitch. A gasping breath, the world’s most dramatic inhale, like he’s doing a cartoonish impression of surprise, like he’s taking in a single breath before he dives to the bottom of the ocean.

Truly fucking theatrical. A one-man show. An exaggerated, frustrated, unabashedly noisy struggle. 

“HUH! heh’YIZSSH! HYYESSHH’hu!”

Ayush would recognize that sequence of sound anywhere, considering how easily it could be conjured in his mind. Caliph Chowdhury’s Greatest Overheard Hits, mentally recorded, sounds repeated often enough to carve themselves into at least semi-permanent grooves in Ayush’s brain, played back like a record whenever he wanted. 

Sometimes when he didn’t.

People who weren’t even talking to Caliph bless him. It is the kind of sound that steals attention and demands recognition.

So perhaps it’s not strange that it turns Ayush’s head and dislodges his own sentence, even though he isn’t within spitting distance. His eyes dart toward the source to find Caliph’s face emerging from where he’d nuzzled into the sleeve of his jacket. Ayush doesn’t remember what he was saying afterwards. Doesn’t have to, it turns out, when the group he’s talking to exceeds a sustainable number of conversation partners and they’re all waiting to dive in atop each other anyway, but he’s happy to cede the stage for another opportunity to glance. Voyeuristically stare. Whatever.

Sometimes the recovery from it is sexy in its own right. An exhale rendered visible in flagging shoulders and… oh is he going to sneeze again? Ayush is betting on yes—

“People are acting like it’s some huge leap forward—”

“You’re such a pessimist, dude.”

—seeing as how he’s yet to put down the arm he used to cover with and is sort of faux-casually resting his hand on the opposite shoulder like it isn’t just a way to more easily… there you go, Caliph. 

“URREISSHH!”

Oh you’re not even done, what is so intensely—

“HUD’JESSHH!”

thoroughly—

“—URREZSSH’yue!”

God, inescapably bothering you?

Ayush tries to disguise whatever it is that’s happening on his face, makes quick eye contact with the people he’s pretending to listen to for a couple moments and then, that done, proceeds to watch Caliph cough into a fist, and reach into his pocket for what seems like it must be a tissue to bring to his nose, wait holy shit, is he sick? Is Caliph sick?!?

“—when really if you look at the make up of the Senate—”

He must be sick. People don’t just carry tissues to a party unless they need them. Oh Christ, oh poor Caliph, oh god how he wants… to do… something, he—

“What do you think, Ayush?” someone asks.

I think the election is over and you should all shut the fuck up about it and please fuck off and don’t talk to me right now.

“Totally,” he says, hoping this to be a passable response but honestly not giving too much of a shit either way. 

Ayush had greeted Caliph and Naveen when they’d arrived, directed them to where they could set down the beer they came with, but it was over in a flash and any signs of illness must have escaped his notice. He finds himself suddenly despondent about being stuck anywhere besides a dozen paces to the right.

Every time he thinks the conversation is dwindling to a place where it wouldn’t be rude to leave, someone needs something or someone who just arrived greets him and he’s forced to exchange how are yous and compliment haircuts and ask people if they’re still with whoever it was they were with before. What’s the same, what’s different, oh cool oh good for you oh that’s too bad oh that sounds interesting. 

There are several times over the course of several similar conversations that Ayush has to stop himself from blurting out something to the tune of Yeah yeah, we all want to drop out of our grad programs. For far too long he’s not even able to get any closer than the same twenty-ish feet away from Caliph, who every ten or so minutes is devolving into another desperate display—of course he would be one of those rare people who actually sneezes a ton when they have a cold—and Ayush is stuck in a revolving door of dull and repetitive but increasingly spirited conversation as the night comes of age and its suitors grow steadily drunker.

He laughs at a joke and wishes a private curse on whoever just joined the circle talking to Naveen and Caliph and effectively blocking him from Ayush’s view for a particularly emphatic fit of four. He feels like a bratty child throwing a tantrum as he stares longingly at a favorite confiscated toy sitting on the refrigerator, out of reach. Why must he have other friends? Why did they invite so fucking many of them here?

In the alembic of his lust and blood alcohol content he becomes impatient, increasingly desperate, easily annoyed by people he likes, borderline rude to people he doesn’t really like, ​​tense and agitated by his secret watchfulness and the physical inability to look in two directions at once. He says mildly unhinged things like, of the president-elect, “I do worry about the country running out of bulletproof glass,” and, of a cute picture of someone’s newborn triplet nieces, “I’m just saying overpopulation is a thing,” and, of law school, “If I ever change my mind and decide to go, please do me a favor and end my life.”

It is a throbbing ache. It is an itch spreading under his skin. Not once but twice he makes the mistake of answering yes when someone on their way to get another drink asks if he wants one, and thus forgoes a perfect excuse to excuse himself and he has half a mind to fully chug the second bottle he’s handed. A few extensive swigs into it, Ayush’s attention is caught again by a particularly sharp opening note.

“SZIISSHH!!” Rushed and ridiculous, sounding something like the startled bark of a dog in the night. Naveen’s laughter rings out, which may or may not be related. 

Caliph takes a few steps backwards from the group he’s with, probably for the sake of courtesy, and in his spatial aloneness takes the opportunity to more bodily give himself over to an exclaimed continuation.

“HUZZIISHH’hu! HUH’ZYYIISSHHhoo!”

God fucking bless you, Caliph.

It’s followed by excessive wiping with the sorry excuse for what is probably the same tissue, and when the magnetic force that continues to tug Ayush’s head in that general direction finally results in him and Caliph catching eyes from across the yard he feels his face flush.

Well now he has to go talk to him.

He leaves ungracefully mid-conversation with a disingenuous promise to be right back, and dodges several other friends on the way, more easily brushed off when he’s walking like he’s on a mission. He’s asked by a group of people he does not know if they can use the kitchen table for beer pong, and though he technically does not live here he says it’s fine by him. 

“Ayooosh!!” Caliph says, fixing him with an excited but slightly unfocused gaze when Ayush reaches him and Naveen by the porch.

Ayush grins to match, reaches a hand to Caliph’s arm. “Can I get you some tissues, bhai? What is that, a sad little wadded up piece of toilet paper?”

Caliph has to laugh for a moment before he speaks. “It is exactly that. I would be incredibly grateful for tissues.”

Up close the redness about his nose is obvious. Either Ayush missed it before or it’s been worsening throughout the night, which, considering how much he’s been sneezing, seems very possible. The flushing, when combined with his dark skin and warm complexion, has created something like an angry almost-coral, glowing around his nostrils and where the soft, rounded edges of his nose meet his upper lip. The color suits him. 

When Ayush returns with a tissue box it’s welcomed by a look of undying gratitude that undoes him so entirely he almost trips down the porch stairs. 

“Ahhh bhaiya,” Caliph almost moans, “you’re too good to me. I came underprepared.” He asks Naveen to hold his beer and proceeds to take a few handfuls of tissues to stuff into his pockets.

He looks like the final frame of a cold medicine commercial, appropriately dosed and relaxed but still clearly ill, a mussed lock of silken black hair that would normally be swept back with a little more promptness spilling lazily over his forehead. When had he begun graying, this twenty-two year old?

“You can just take the box if you want.”

“Oh this should be good I think. It’s not quite that dire,” he says, still with that beamish smile slightly too big for his face. 

“You sure about that?” Ayush asks, because it honestly almost looks like—

“You know what actually…” Caliph suddenly shakes his head, tugs another tissue from the proffered box, pants twice in breathy inhale-exhale combos as he brings the tissue to his nose, turns sideways and immediately sneezes into it, a panicked, “huh-hh, hhH-HH! HYYESHHHhue!” which, thanks to the physics of a quick stream of air and the imperfect seal of his cupped hands, puffs enough of his exhale back into his own face to wind-ruffle his hair.

Since both Naveen and Caliph, once he’s able, are laughing, Ayush joins in weakly, in the pale imitation of a normal human response.

Naveen says, “Amazing timing, bhai.”

“Thank you,” Caliph snuffles, taking three more tissues, as the events of the past few seconds clearly warranted reassessment.

It occurs to Ayush just a moment too late that he could have touched him very casually just then, when he was within arm’s reach, could have placed a hand on his arm or his shoulder afterward. Perfectly casual. Maybe a little sweet but in a plausibly platonic way. Casual hetero bro affection.

Ayush is finding it impossible to keep his eyes from drifting down to Caliph’s nostrils and the low glimmer of wetness that clings to them, and he’s been staring from afar for so long that it’s a bit of an adjustment to not continue doing so.

He says, “Um. Bummer to be sick over break.”

“Well I have very few responsibilities at the moment so it’s actually a great time to be ill, snhff! comparatively speaking.”

Ayush laughs probably too loudly as he sets the tissue box down nearby.

“We’ve been talking to some of your college friends.”

“Oh I like fully hate sixty percent of the people here,” Ayush deadpans immediately and Naveen and Caliph both laugh so hard that it’s almost worth every unbearable moment Ayush endured in order to create such a successful sentence.

“I was actually about to say they seem really cool,” Naveen says at last.

“Pfft. Well who have you been talking to?”

“Richie was over here for a while.”

“Oh. Okay yeah Richie actually is cool,” he admits, and he’s about to go on when he notices Caliph’s mouth become quietly unlatched and fall open.

“Hold on a second,” he says, tilting his face to the night sky like asking a god for help. Like he needs a purer breath. Ayush doesn’t know what it is that brings people to do that but he certainly doesn’t mind it.

Caliph’s eyebrows zigzag into a furrow as he grabs the collar of his jacket, brings it over his nose and ducks down into it with a sound issued almost in slow motion. 

“HURRIISSHH! Huh! URRIIZSSHH!hyue!”

He straightens up only long enough to briefly open his eyes before they’re forced shut again, lurching back into his lapel for another shoulder-shuddering performance of a sneeze that really does need to be seen from the front row to be properly appreciated. 

“URRRZSSHH-shyiuu!”

An insisted final syllable that itself sounds dizzied. 

“Bless you,” Ayush says, struggling to keep the carnal hunger from it.

“’Scuse me, thank you.” Afterwards he swipes away a tear that’s already made it halfway down his cheek. The sheer force of it always seems to make his eyes water.

Utter ridiculousness. Stupid. Adorable.

“Oh my god, I must have sneezed a hundred times today,” he says, snuffling.

Ayush makes a noise by mistake and disguises it with a throat clear.

“Probably more than that, bhai. You’ve sneezed like ten times in the last ten minutes alone,” Naveen says, because apparently Naveen can just say things like this.

“Well this has been a particularly sneezy past ten minutes, it may not be representative of my entire day,” he says. “But I’m pretty sure it’s driving my father up a wall, snff! He’s been turning up the History Channel real loud.”

“Oh yeah, how is ol’ Rajesh Uncle?”

“He’s… good, I think? Hard to tell.”

Rajesh had always slightly frightened Ayush. He was a perpetually angry person, which Ayush kinda figured was why Caliph didn’t seem to have an angry bone in his body. It was like he was deeply familiar with what happens when you indulge in anger and wanted no part in it. Like an alcoholic’s kid who has no interest in ever having a single sip to begin with. 

Caliph’s sweetness was all Priyanka.

Ayush finds it hard to think about Priyanka Auntie. She is not his to grieve and that makes the grieving easier the same way as it ensures it will never happen. Priyanka Auntie’s non-existence exists in an impossible liminal space. So it’s okay. Pesky for a moment on occasion, if anything, but nothing more. 

It was seeing Caliph like that, the way he was right after. Before it was buried beneath too many months. That’s what Ayush finds difficult to deal with. The thing that chafes. Because he still has to see it sometimes in little glimpses. Still has to be reminded that Caliph is motherless when “How are your parents?” needs to be amended to “How is Rajesh uncle?” and worse still when he has to say it like that it feels like less of a routine check in, the words ‘how are you doing,’ and more a targeted probe with an unspoken, tacked-on, ‘in the wake of the whole unfathomable tragedy thing?’ Like a handholding and a hollow ‘I know it must be hard,’ as if he could do anything, as if anyone could do anything, to make it softer.

Inevitably Ayush is asked about his parents then in return. Inquires about Naveen’s parents (they’re good too). They ask how Shravya is (fine but dating a humanities major). He asks how Naveen’s brother Vijay is (starting a promising career in data science but arguably spending more time playing FIFA than anything else). 

He’s asking the same questions he’s volleyed around all night but suddenly actually caring to hear the answers when he isn’t only half present in the conversation, when he’s standing where he wanted to be for the past hour. Though he’s still paying more attention to Caliph’s symptoms than anything else, tongue feeling too big for his mouth for a moment every time Caliph addresses him from over the top of a tissue as he gradually goes through a couple of them, his nose insisting on both of their attention and often receiving it.

They all talk of academic burnout, because with finals coming up it’s certainly the time for it. While Ayush doesn’t like to hear that his friends are struggling, it’s kind of comforting to know he’s not the only one of them questioning everything lately, especially considering Caliph and Naveen are two of the most accomplished people he knows and truth be told he’s always felt like the underachiever of the three of them.

Maybe that’s how it spills from his loosened lips, The Shameful Thing, a topic Ayush hadn’t intended on getting into with them tonight. 

Still he doesn’t look at them when he says it, preoccupied with his usual unconscious drunken fidget tactic of peeling at a cold, dewy beer label until his fingertips find purchase on the sticky glue residue beneath. Rubbing at it until it’s reduced to pulp. “I haven’t done any of my assignments all semester. I can’t bring myself to. I’m on campus fucking around but I’m not going to class. I’m basically just trying to figure out what the fuck I want to do instead of this.”

It’s quiet for a moment. He looks up to see sympathy.

“Honestly bhaiya, good for you,” Naveen says, tilting the neck of his beer in Ayush’s direction.

“I totally agree,” Caliph says. “It takes a lot of insight to figure that out, especially when you have parents like ours—snhff!—who can kind of unintentionally blind you with pressure.”

“They might actually murder me when I drop out of this program,” Ayush says, raking idly through his hair. “I’m gonna have to fuckin move back in with them.”

“I’m sure they’ll be glad to have you though.”

“Oh they’ll be ecstatic to have me, that’s not the problem,” he says, and Caliph’s chuckle spawns coughing. Not a wet cough, not yet, just something ticklish and irritated that makes his chest stutter in little spasms, but he’s having trouble wrestling his breath away from it. 

Naveen pats his back. “You sound so healthy, bhai.”

Caliph smiles wryly from behind his fist, coughs the words, “I know-ho.”

“Better to bunk with your parents now than when you’re thirty-five, na?” Naveen says, and Ayush takes an exceptionally long second to turn his thoughts back to the conversation he started and away from how sniffly Caliph is in the wake of the coughing, the way he keeps fussing at his face with a crumpled ball of tissue, quick little upward swipes and pinches of his nostrils. 

“Um… I guess so. Honestly I should just drop now before the last day to withdraw with a ‘W’ or whatever, but I don’t want to move back home now, I wanna stay on campus. Suckle at the tit while my parents brag to their friends about things I’m not doing for a little bit longer. I think if I told them now they’d tell me to finish out the semester anyway.”

“Fair enough, bhaiya,” Caliph says.

“You think?” he asks, not meaning for the question to sound so needy.

“Yeah absolutely. Give yourself time to get a couple months closer to a new game plan before your parents know.”

“Or a couple months more certain that you definitely don’t want to go into law,” Naveen says.

“Oh that is definitely not the issue, like I’d honestly rather die.”

“Yeah that’s how I felt about medicine, snf! I changed my mind and started over too and I’m really glad I did,” Caliph says.

“But I mean, you graduated at the same time you would have anyway.”

“So that’s… factually accurate but I wouldn’t hold what I did up as some shining example, snff! As I think you may have noticed I also lost touch with everyone I ever cared about for a couple years.”

Ayush nods, somewhat absently. “Sometimes I have this dream that I’m back in high school—this is so specific—I’m back in high school and I’m in calculus but I haven’t done any of the homework for three weeks and I have one weekend to finish it all.”

“Bhaiya oh my god I have the same fucking dream,” Naveen says. 

“No you don’t,” Ayush grins.

“Not exactly the same but similar nightmares about academic underpreparedness. But you had no idea what the realities of this would look like and now you do and you know it doesn’t fit you and that’s a good thing.”

Ayush nods again, wanting to believe them.

“Hey,” Caliph says, prompting his eye contact. “I know it feels like you’re farther away from knowing where you’re going. But knowing that what you’ve been doing isn’t it? That’s you getting way closer.”

A smile comes over Ayush, entirely involuntary. “So does wisdom come free with these gray hairs or what?” 

Caliph laughs. “Yeah I’m earning my stripes.”

“Yo, I said some wise things too thank you very much,” Naveen pouts.

Caliph explains on Ayush’s behalf; “Yeah but you’re not going prematurely gray.”

They really do make Ayush feel better, and the response is so supportive that he ponders—from that sober place that can only be accessed at a certain level of drunk—why it is he’s been dragging his feet on coming out to them.

Somehow it was so much easier to tell college friends than it would be to come out to people he had known for so long. The natural implications people sometimes came to. Ayush has to wonder now whether it doesn’t have more than a little to do with the fact that ‘Don’t worry I was never into you, dude,’ was not… universally applicable.

Naveen is saying something when Caliph holds up a finger with an unhurried, “Excuse me a second,” but his nose is not quite so patient, and before he can extract a new tissue from his pocket he can’t fight it any longer, a sneeze he directs hastily into a lifted elbow. Usually Caliph’s sound is nothing if not compliant but this one is anything but. Constrained. Consonant-heavy. Clipped in his throat and giving the distinct, guttural impression of being more miserable for it.

“Hiiigk-KH’SSHHhuue!” It ends in an almost-sigh of an exhale that seems a direct reaction to the sneeze itself.

He has given up on the tissue and instead wraps the other arm around himself too, like these in particular need to be doubly contained, huddled and straining under the weight of them.

“HUH’RIISSHH! Hh-! HYYIIZSHH’u! Oh my guh-HH-! HUHYYIISSHHzhue! Oh my god, snfffh!”

An overwhelmed Ayush wishes he could offer more than “Bless you.” It doesn’t feel like acknowledgment enough.

Caliph thanks him and stumbles sideways into Naveen, who appraises him with a worried, “Caliph, baby.” He says baby the way he says it to Barkya. The way Ayush’s own parents say it to him. Beh-beee. “Are you okay?”

“Hoo. I gotta stop doing that,” he snuffles.

“Doing what, sneezing?” 

He nods, wipes at his eyes and says, “s’making me woozy.”

“Awww Caliph, you’re really struggling,” Ayush says, alcohol blooming through his blood, reaching out a hand and briefly squeezing Caliph’s shoulder in a way that feels natural enough for all it sends electricity through him like a tripped wire. 

Caliph gives him a wholehearted half-smile and says, “I am kind of.” 

It’s barely any words at all; really it’s two and a qualifier to lessen them, but it speaks volumes. Caliph’s drunkenness has segued into sleepiness, evident in languid movements, heavy-lidded eyes, the third heartbreaking yawn in less than a minute. He’s dressed appropriately for the weather but looks cold even so, arms folded tightly and sleeves clasped in fingers like clothespins so they stay put.  

You poor sweet thing you should be in bed.

“You probably shouldn’t be outside like this.”

“That’s what I keep telling him.”

Ayush is about to say, “We could also talk inside,” but he isn’t fast enough. 

“I’m starting to think I should maybe go home,” Caliph says, with a forceful sniffle and a swallow that’s even more so.

Later Ayush will wonder if he inadvertently pushed Caliph to leave. It is not the intention, but really he just looks so sweet and pitiful like this that Ayush could never dream of doing anything but encouraging it.

“Yeah that’s probably a good call. You’re only gonna get drunker and sicker if you stay.”

“Solid points, Ayush, solid points.”

He and Naveen will leave together because Naveen drove. He promises he’s good to drive, he had a single beer and he didn’t actually finish it because it’s bitter as hell. Ayush accuses him of having the taste palate of a toddler, and thanks them for coming.

“Oh I probably shouldn’t hug you since I’m sick,” Caliph cautions at the last minute.

“I don’t give a shit imma hug you.”

“Aww!” he laughs, accepting the embrace, running a quick hand up and down Ayush’s back, issuing a sniffle during that brief stretch of time they’re pressed together closely enough that when Caliph’s chest jumps with the quick intake of breath Ayush can feel the pulse of it in his own chest, like they’re sharing a heartbeat.

He wants him. He’s not really sure in what context he means, it’s just a feeling. A Lack Of. He’s not even sure what he wants to do with him. What he would do if he had him. It is directionless Want, unspecific but no less excruciating for it.

To hold him, maybe. For longer.

#mongoose writes sometimes #Cal #Cal/Ayush #bhai and bhaiya both mean brother and are used like you would use bro/dude/man/etc #pronounced like bī and bī-yah respectively #the betajis #I love writing these boys together #technically timeline wise this occurs the day before Kshama Karen #Cal as Caliph #Ayush #Naveen

[pretending-ican-write]

Tinder but make it your girlfriend

I'm so sorry I haven't posted anything in agesss but I've been very much preoccupied with university and writer's block but this came to me after reading @sour--disposition 's fic on a similar idea!

In this, the reader is a mcyt/streamer and Tommyinnit's sister and dating Ethan.

Y/H/T (your hometown)

Y/A (your age)

Y/H (your height)

You were sat in the green room, idly scrolling through twitter responding to replies from fans and your friends, waiting for one of the crew to let you know it was your turn. Everyone else had already had their turn, returning to recount the lines used by the boys through laughter.

Originally you weren’t meant to be in the video but one of the girls had pulled out last minute so the boys had asked you to fill in the spot. As Ethan’s girlfriend you’d agreed to take part because you thought it would be funny to be involved instead of just being behind the camera.

Emma came back into the room, drawing you out of your thoughts, “good luck Y/N, I think you’ll need it.”

You smiled at her before getting up to follow the crew member into the shoot room. As soon as you walked in, the boys cheered. You stepped onto the footprints and looked at the camera to introduce yourself.

“Hi. I’m Y/N, from Y/H/T and I’m Y/A,” you looked at the line of your friends in front of you, “do your worst boys.”

Simon stepped up to the cut out first, trying to hide his smile, causing you to smirk back at him.

“Hi. I’m Simon, I’m 28 and I’m taller than Ethan,” he deadpanned, looking straight at you.

Alongside the other boys, you burst out laughing at Simon’s line, as Ethan made noises of insult from further back.

You stopped laughing enough to respond, “I mean the thing is, you’re right. So I’m gonna go for yes.”

The laughter resumed as Simon went to the right, flipping off your boyfriend as he went when JJ went up next. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what your friend was going to say.

He looked at you, “I’m JJ, I’m 27 and um, I’m not a weatherman but you can expect a few more inches tonight.”

“Oh God I feel sorry for your girlfriend, “you replied with a small laugh, “I think you might be exaggerating with a few inches there JJ.”

JJ put his hand to his chest, staggering back into Stephen at your response.

“It’s a hard no for me JJ. Not sorry,” you decided, dramatically swiping your hand to the left.

He moved over to the left, with an overdramatic pout, “I will never recover from this Y/N.”

“I’m sure your ego is big enough to survive this,” you smiled at him sarcastically, “who’s next?”

Stephen stepped up to the footprints, “I’m Stephen, I’m 25 and- you know what? Nah.”

You looked at him in shock as he went over to JJ whilst the others descended into laughter, Simon falling over and a couple of the others leaning on each other for support.

You pointed an accusing finger at him, “you know what? I expected that from Freezy but not you Stephen. I’m disappointed.”

“What did I do for this slander?” Cal protested.

“We haven’t got the time to explain that,” Lux laughed.

Tobi was next up, “Hi Y/N.”

“Afternoon.”

“I’m Tobi, I’m 27 and I’m 6 foot tall.”

You looked at him with amusement, “Ethan how tall am I?”

“Y/H,” he replied with a matching look.

“I thought so. If you’re 6 foot Tobi then I must fucking snow white,” you answered, pointing him towards the no side, “that’s just a bold faced lie.”

After Tobi came Callux who you knew was gonna be using a pick up line, “give us your worst then Lux.”

“The standards are high Y/N?” Asked Simon, currently the only when who you’d said yes to.

“We’ve established the bar is in hell, I’m dating Ethan,” you deadpanned, smirking at the laughter that followed.

Cal began after you’d all recovered, “I’m Calum, I’m 29. I have 206 bones in my body. Want to give me another one?”

You nodded, “yeah sure. Come here and I’ll break your leg in 2.”

Lux looked at you in complete shock whilst you just stared back at him, “off to the left you go Luxxy.”

Following him was Vik, “I’m Vik, I’m 25 and I play minecraft.”

“I mean I think Tommy would disown me if I said no but because you’re also an mcyt I feel I’m legally required to swipe right,” you explained, gesturing to the right.

Finally it was the turn of Ethan. He stepped up to the cut out and looked at you. You stared straight back at him, not breaking eye contact.

“Are they having a fucking staring contest?” Exclaimed JJ.

You nodded, “and I won.”

“I’m Ethan, I’m 24 but I’m pretty sure you know that. If you swipe left then I’ll no longer give you access to my wardrobe.”

You sucked the air in between your teeth, “see as funny as it would be for me to swipe left that is not something I’m willing to risk.”

You put your hands in a heart as he joined the other boys. He smiled back to you and you knew you’d be stealing the very t-shirt he was wearing later.

As Freezy stepped up you took a sip of water from the bottle in hand, “Hi. I’m Cal, I’m 26 and I’m also taller than Behzinga.”

Ethan put his middle finger up at Freezy which made you nearly spit the water from your mouth. You managed to swallow the water before pointing a threatening finger at your boyfriend warning him to behave.

“It just isn’t funny when you steal the joke Freezy. But I guess that’s why most your content isn’t,” you mused, siding him to the left.

He staggered into JJ who brought him to the floor as he ‘died’ at your take down.

“You’ve managed to kill 2 of them today Y/N. I hope you’re proud,” Ethan huffed.

You nodded, “yeah and now I’ll steal all their subscribers. Thank you KSI for your help, Freezy less so.”

“Can we have her removed from the set please?” JJ complained, “she’s destroying all of us.”

Vik shook his head, laughing, “it’s hilarious.”

“Only because you’re on the other side of it, fam!”

A crew member called out to you all, “can we move on to Harry please.”

When your best mate stepped up with his upside down notebook you burst out laughing, “I’m sorry Bog. Please continue.”

“Um, I’m Harry, I’m 24 and I actually have a poem for you.”

“Let’s hear it then.”

Harry cleared his throat to read, “Roses are red, the sun is bright, Y/N can’t play bedwars, she is so shite.”

“Insulting her doesn’t work,” shouted Stephen.

You flipped him off, “shut up Stephen. See I have some issues here. On one hand, you’re insulting me Harry but it’s also true. Plus, I actually wrote that poem Harry.”

The others 'ooed’ teasingly at your point before you continued, “but because it’s you I’m gonna say yes.”

He gave a little cheer and joined the others on the right, fist bumping Ethan.

The last one left was Josh, who you were praying wasn’t going to say anything weird given that you saw him like a brother.

“I’m Josh, I’m 29 and… no I just can’t do it. It’s too weird,” Josh laughed and walked to the right.

You breathed out a sigh of relief, “I’ll be honest I’m quite glad for that.”

With the boys all sorted to either side, the shoot was finally over and you were all free to go back to your flats.

You arrived back at your apartment to take a shower and change into Ethan’s t-shirt with a pair of leggings before joining him on the sofa to order takeaway and pick a movie.

He slid his arm easily around your shoulders, pulling you into him, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes, the exhaustion of the long day finally hitting you.

“Thank you for being in the video,” Ethan murmured in your ear.

You smiled into his shoulder, “it was fun. Any opportunity to take the piss out of the boys.”

#sidemen #sidemen imagine #behzinga #behzinga x reader #ethan payne #ethan payne x reader #sidemen x reader #mcyt

[lilyharvord]

Meet Me at Our Spot

  HELLO EVERYONE!! Vet school turned its back for a day and I was able to finish this one for you all. ((: Here is a lovely little one shot that is rated M people, so please read responsibly. Office AU because someone asked for it once upon a time and the image of Cal in one of those well tailored shirts/suits with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows has lived in my head rent free since then. So enjoy!!! ((: 

also, I’m obsessed with that song Meet Me at Our Spot by Willow and The Anxiety (specifically the live version). So that’s the vibe were going for. (:

find it on Ao3 too: link

Mare Barrow always felt underdressed when she entered the massive glass and steel structure that housed the Calore enterprises. Even when she put on her only pair on heels, and a nice outfit, she felt like a smudge of dirt on the pristine floors. Today though, she was determined to not feel that way. She had a plan, a vision, and she was not about to let some socially constructed idea like dress code ruin it for her.

           Striding up to the main desk before the elevators that lead to the corporate side of the building, she planted herself firmly before Tiria and cleared her throat to announce her presence.

           The young woman looked up from the book she was scribbling things in and held up a finger as she spoke into the receiver cradled in her other hand.

“Of course sir. Yes, two on Friday.”

With a sigh, Mare braced her forearms on the counter and glanced out at the massive atrium next to her. Multiple people strolled by in their nice suits and tight business dresses, carrying portfolios and briefcases and talking heatedly about a number of things. She got a few looks from them for her baggy sweatpants, oversized jacket, and faded ugly sneakers. She simply smirked back at them in response, a glint in her eye that dared them to talk about her after they had passed.

No one had ever really gotten a good look at her here, and if they had, it was when she was quickly being ushered past this front desk and into the elevators behind it. She was, for all intents and purposes, a very well-kept secret. One that was mandatory to remain a secret, given her position and her affiliation with this place.

Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she would ever set foot in a place like this, let alone be associated with the circle she now tenuously walked through. It had its perks though, like getting to give a bright shiny middle finger smile to the people Farley would have spit at. Mare couldn’t exactly spit like she wanted to though, because she happened to enjoy being around one of them. And she was supposed to be on her best behavior when she was in this building. It was part of the stupid rules she had been forced to agree to a year ago.

Rule number one: No one can know your name, where you are from, and who you are.

Rule Number two: best behavior at all times when you are in the building or near him. No exceptions.

Rule number three: You are not allowed to show up unannounced or uninvited.

           Well rule number three could just go fuck itself today, and rule number two could join it. The rules were just a way of making sure that the pristine reputation of this place didn’t get tarnished in the tabloids. She had laughed herself hoarse when they brought her into that dim conference room and dropped the pile of papers with the rules outlining everything in front of her. She never thought getting into a relationship would feel like a contract or a business deal but somehow this was made into one. Then again, the Calore family could make a business deal out of a child’s pretend game.

“Yes sir, I will let them know. Thank you for confirming, we will see you then.”

Tiria snapped the receiver back into the cradle and turning a scrutinizing eye to Mare she quirked a perfectly manicured brow. Every front desk girl in the world honestly looked the same to Mare, and in this place, there was no exceptions.

“Can I help you?”

“I have an appointment.” Mare said as she pressed onto her toes and pointed with a finger randomly into Tiria’s book.

The girl looked down at the line Mare pointed to with a frown while Mare swiped the key card Tiria always kept just under the ledge with her other hand. Tucking it into her pocket, she forced her eyes wide in a fake showing of bewilderment as Tiria gave her a contempt glare when there was nothing on the line.

“I could have sworn I called!” Mare gasped as she pressed herself up onto the counter to teeter further over it while her feet dangled. Damn these stupid things were high. She should have worn heels just so she could actually see over the top of the counter. “Maybe I should have called to confirm.”

“Miss Barrow, please stay on that side of the counter.” Tiria sighed as she leaned back in her chair.

Sliding down and dropping with a huff, Mare crossed her arms, trying to mimic the expression she saw most of these people give when they didn’t get what they wanted. “I want to go up.”

           Forcing her sigh through her nose so it wasn’t as obvious, Tiria shook her head and adjusted a pen that had moved out of its perfectly straight line. “You’re not supposed to be here today. Don’t make me call security.”

           “Well that would announce my presence.” Mare argued before picking up her backpack. “Besides, I’ll only be ten minutes.”

           “Miss Barrow, I like my job and want to keep it. Leave.”

           Letting out her own exaggerated sigh, Mare threw her hands up and spun on her heel to leave. “Honestly, you’d think I’d get a free pass giving who I’m dating in this place.”

           Peeking over her shoulder to see if Tiria was still paying attention, she smirked as the girl dropped her head to write something down. One of the benefits of everyone looking down on her here was that as soon as she turned around, she was out of sight and out of mind. It made sneaking around easier.

           Spinning back around, she scurried over to the elevators, ducking below the ledge of the counter slightly in case Tiria looked up again. Humming a song she heard on the radio to herself, she swiped the card and pushed the button to call the elevator. She had joked once this place was locked up tighter than a military institution, only to learn there was a reason for that. She doubted she could just swipe a key card and sneak into the Pentagon though.

           The doors opened with a little ding, and she glanced over her shoulder once before darting in and pressing the button for the top floor. She had to swipe the key card again and punch in a four digit code she memorized weeks ago, but the doors still slid shut and the massive glass box rose.

           Grinning like a fiend, Mare glanced over her shoulder at the green land stretching out behind her. She had to borrow Bree’s car to drive out to this place, and it almost didn’t make it. Her brother’s check engine light had been on since he bought the car, but he assured her it could make it the fifty mile trip and back. It had coughed the whole way, but it got her here. Beyond the trees she could just make out the highway she took with cars rushing along it.

           The first time she saw this place, she was afraid of it. Why was it so far away from everything, why was it so tucked away? What were they trying to hide behind the wall of trees? She hadn’t entire believed the excuses they gave, but she was at least certain they weren’t building nuclear weapons at this place.

           The doors slid open silently to a long hallway with dark floors and another bank of windows for a wall. Stepping out into the sunshine, Mare strolled forward, adjusting her hair and jacket as she went. Turning a corner, she passed a few smaller offices that belonged to some of the board members that held staff positions. The only one that was closed belonged to one of the only people she really, really didn’t want to see.

           Volo Samos made her nervous. If there was anyone who might be trying to make a nuclear weapon in this place, it was that man. She edged by his office, glancing through the swaying vertical shades to see if he was actually there or he had left for lunch. He was sitting at his desk on the phone.

Scurrying past him, Mare quickened her pace. If he was here, then the rest of the board might be too. Which meant she might be walking in on a meeting. Not exactly the best option, and neither was sitting outside in the hall and waiting.

           She had been so certain that there was nothing happening this week. She had planned everything around that fact. Maybe she should have called… just to make sure before she drove all the way out here.

           Before she knew it though, she was standing before the heavy dark wood doors at the end of that hall. She had never been nervous to open them. They were intimidating with an exterior that was meant to deter people, but once you opened them and peeked inside there was nothing to fear, just like with the man behind them. She knew that, and yet, she had to squash the shake in her hand as she nudge the door open a fraction.

           The office was empty.

           Throwing the door open all the way, she stepped inside and glanced awkwardly around the space. She had spent enough time in here that she knew there were very few places to hide. Not that Cal would have any reason to hide in his own office. Pursing her lips she pushed the door closed and stormed over to the desk before throwing her bag down behind it and tossing herself into the chair. It spun in a slow circle with her momentum until she faced the back windows. Slouching down she tried to determine her next move with a pout. Maybe he had left for lunch. It wouldn’t surprise her. If the board members were here, then he might have had to play the good CEO and daddy’s boy he was supposed to be and taken them all to lunch to placate them. But Volo was here… so maybe they hadn’t gone to lunch?

           She had put makeup on for this surprise. Honestly, was it so hard for him to be in the place he was supposed to be at this time?

           Forcing out a sigh, she crossed her arms and spun the chair back around with her toes to look at the papers scattered around the desk. Cal was perhaps one of the most messily organized people she had ever met. He was an oxymoron himself though, so it only made sense. She picked up a thick stack of papers that were clipped together and lifted one of the corners between her finger and thumb like it was radioactive. She didn’t understand a word on the next page or the numbers scribbled in the margins. Putting it back in its place she glanced at the few pictures he kept on his desk.

           The first time she had been in his office he had been on a phone call, and she had to entertain herself. She had picked up the pictures and made up the stories behind them while he watched her out of the corner of his eye. The picture of the two little boys crouched and playing in the mud on the edge of a lake was her favorite. She had been confused by it at first, until she saw the one next to it, with the same two boys almost a decade later in front of the Roman Coliseum.

Cal and his brother vaguely looked like brothers. They had similar features, but they wore them very differently. Where Cal was tall and broad, his younger brother was lean and sharp. Their eyes were strikingly different, but it was to be expected. She’d met Maven twice in the year she’d dated Cal. The first time was when he flew home for their father’s retirement party. He’d been quiet and reserved the whole evening until Cal dragged him out for a drink with her after to introduce them, properly as Cal had teased. When the brothers were alone and not around their father, they were different people. Maven especially. He seemed to soften, to melt a little bit. It had surprised her that someone could be so different just because the personnel around them changed. But Maven was a master of it.

The second time she’d seen him, Cal dragged her halfway across the world to Scotland to surprise Maven on his birthday. Cal’s brother lived as far from their father as possible, and honestly, Mare didn’t blame him. Unfortunately, Cal wasn’t afforded that luxury. Hence the rule book she had to follow.

           He had a picture with his uncle next to that. The man was a few years younger than her father, but he caried those years poorly. Still, he adored Mare,  and she didn’t have to pretend to tolerate him, unlike most of the other people that surrounded Cal at a given time.

A picture with his father was next to that one. It was a close second favorite of Mare’s. She couldn’t stand his father, the man was insufferable, but she loved to look at the younger version of Cal. He looked impossibly different as a kid, so different she almost hadn’t recognized him in the picture. She had told him that he reminded her of a taffy piece that was pulled too long in that picture. He was only ten in it, but his legs were already too long for him, and he was thin as a pole. He certainly had grown into his body, but the smile he gave to the camera there… he only gave it to her now. Or at least, she thought he did. She’d never seen him smile that brightly at anyone else.

           Next to that, tucked almost behind the other pictures was a photograph of a young woman in a window box with a toddler resting on her legs. She smiled at him, clutching his hands in hers, completely unaware of the camera trained on her. Cal didn’t talk about it, or the woman in it, but Mare wormed it out of Julian that Cal’s mother was a sore subject with everyone. Even though she was smiling in the picture, Mare could almost sense the sadness that radiated from her. She didn’t look much older than Mare in that picture. No doubt she had been tied up with the same strings and restrictions Mare faced now. If that were the case, Mare wasn’t surprised she had been so sad. The rules and regulations that came with dating a powerful person were like a cage. It worried Mare some days. She didn’t like being confined, but when she was with Cal away from all of this, she didn’t feel that way. It was only when they were together around other people that she did. More oxymorons where the man was concerned.

           The door into the office opened and Mare snapped to attention as Cal stepped in. His hands were full with papers he shuffled through while balancing his phone on his shoulder and speaking with someone. He’d nudged the door open with his hip and because of that, he had yet to turn and face her.

           Even though she hated all the restrictions she had to face while she dated him, she knew they didn’t truly bother her because he was hers. All of him carefully folded into a suit that hugged every muscle made her stomach tighten and other parts flutter. And all of it was hers, some nobody from a backwater city block. She sometimes felt like a tiny dragon hording a single coin when she was with him. She didn’t have much to her name, never had and probably never would, but he was hers. She wasn’t sure if she would get to keep him, but she planned to enjoy every last second that she could with him.

           Her lips curled into a smile as she leaned back in the chair and crossed her leg over the other, trying to paint a picture of coyness. It was probably not the best showing of it, but Cal was a miserable good boy who couldn’t handle anything remotely teasing.

           The papers ended up on the other side of the desk from her, while he shifted to hold the phone and rest his other fist on the table. The muscle in his jaw that always twitched when he was irritated fluttered like a bird’s wing now. He pressed his fingers into his closed eyes as if he could force whatever headache was probably there away with just that touch.

           “We didn’t agree to that when we signed the papers. They can’t come back and impose that restriction on us now.”            She squirmed in the chair at the tone in his voice. There were multiple sides to Cal that she had seen. There was her Cal, who had no idea how to dance, and who blushed whenever she teased him. Then there was the Cal she sometimes got at one in the morning who would grab the inside of her leg while he whispered in her ear exactly what he was going to do. Then there was this Cal. The one who had been heir to an empire company since the day he was born, and who could command a room like it was any other Tuesday. Sometimes it was hot to watch him do it. Right now though, it was the opposite. He wasn’t happy with something, and it honestly sounded like the last thing he needed was her here.

           She decided she definitely should have called before coming.

           Edging the chair back with her toes, it squeaked as it went over the floor, and his eyes darted up to her before widening.

           With an awkward smile, she wiggled her fingers in greeting before spinning the chair to face the back windows. Her cheeks were burning, and there were other parts that had melted to a very dangerous temperature. The look he gave her as he looked up at been fleeting, but it had been enough to put her on the teetering edge of deciding to grab him and pin him to the desk, or ask him to do just that with her.

           “Deal with this. Don’t call back until you have.”

           The silence following his words told her, that she was now the singular focus of his attention. His gaze was like a brand even through the leather of the chair. Crossing her arms and adjusting her posture accordingly, she went to spin the chair back around. He beat her to it though, spinning it to face him and tipping it back slightly so she had an easier time looking up at him.

           “I don’t believe I left anything at the apartment.”

           “You left me.” Mare pouted with a withering stare in his direction.

           “Very funny. Now how did you even get up here?”

           With a smirk, Mare fished the ID card out of her pocket and flashed it before him proudly. He snatched it from her hand with a startled gasp.

           “Mare… what the… what are you a thief now?”

           “Obviously.” She waved her hand to dismiss his comment before gesturing to the card. “You should really get lanyards to put those on by the way. I just kinda grabbed that off her desk. And if I got it anyone else could have—”  

           “You can’t go around stealing people’s ID cards. She needs this to get around the building.” He gestured at her with it, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

           “Well I needed it more in the moment.” Mare reasoned with a smile before leaning back in the chair. She didn’t really feel that bad, but the worry starting to etch itself into Cal’s brows did make her feel a little guilty.

           He tossed it unceremoniously onto the desk before sitting on the edge of it and massaging his face slowly with his hands.

“While I’m happy to see you, I don’t have time to deal with anything outside of work today.” His words were muffled by his palms but she could still hear every stressed syllable. Even when his work got stressful, which it undoubtably was at times, he still could push it aside whenever he saw her. Whatever he had been on the phone about had been serious, serious enough that he actually wasn’t all that happy to see her.

           “What happened?” Mare asked, scooting the chair close enough for her to set her hands on his thighs and squeeze gently. Now was not the time to be thinking about just how well that suit fit, but the thought still crossed her mind. Along with a few choice other thoughts.

           “Stupidity.”

           Cocking her head to the side, she waited for him to elaborate. It took him a moment, but he eventually dropped his hands and let his head fall back to look to the ceiling.

           “We signed papers on a deal a year ago. When that happens it’s done, the contract is sealed and stored away. In that contract, we agreed that should anything happen with a shipment, we were not liable. The group we shipped to doesn’t like that anymore, because a 30.5 million dollar shipment got lost.”

           Now it made sense to her. This wasn’t anger, or frustration. This was stress. Stress she could handle.

“How does one misplace 30.5 million dollars?” She teased before running hers hand up and down his legs.

“I don’t know. But there are five different parties all in a screaming match over it, including us. And if the other four don’t back down anytime soon, I’m going to have to find 30.5 million dollars somewhere.” His eyes darted down to her as she brushed her thumbs along the inside of his thighs. Glancing up through her lashes at him then, she tilted her head ever so slightly.

“And that is hard because?”

“Does it look like I have 30.5 million dollars lying around to just throw at someone?” He reasons, and the dips in his cadence brought a smirk to her lips. Now she had his attention. Pushing up to her feet she slid between his knees until she could drape her arms around his neck. Immediately, his hands found her hips and hugged her closer still.

“I’m sure there are one or two things you could sell in this building to cover that cost.” She ran her thumb along the back of his neck, before tracing the spot at the base of his jaw. His head tilted in the opposite direction, trying to escape the feather light touch. Both of them knew exactly what it did after all. Smirking at his reaction, Mare ran her other hand along his shoulder, tracing the contours she knew by heart.

“I bet I could pick out one of two things.”

“I don’t need to find the thirty and a half because it’s not our fault what happened.” He squeezed her hips, and even though she could see the fight in his eyes, it was quickly guttering. The tension in his shoulders was still more than she would have liked, but that tended to be where he kept most of it.

“So stressed out over something that isn’t even your fault.” She teased as she pressed her thumb into the knot closest to his neck. He tensed under her, but didn’t speak. At this point, his voice had already dropped an octave, and Mare had known him long enough now to know that when he went silent like this, he was trying to hide just how far she had pushed him. “Do you want help releasing some of that?”

“Not unless you can get up in front of five different boards and convince them otherwise.” She had to admire how even he kept his voice. It still wavered in a few places as he tried to remain composed under her scrutiny. Dropping her hands from around his shoulders to land on his thighs again, she squeezed hard enough to emphasize her next point.

“That sounds like a challenge.” Mare actually witnessed his pupils dilate as she dropped her voice an octave too. “You and I both know it’s not much of one. I can be very persuasive.”

“You’re gonna get us both in more trouble than I can get us out of.” He whispered to her, a tiny smile lifting the edges of his lips. The glint in his eye made her stomach flutter, especially as he started to finger the waistband of her pants. She didn’t want him to put his hands under it just yet though, she still had one surprise she wanted to save.

Pulling back to slip out of his arms, she dropped back into the chair with a proud smirk. “Then I see no reason to not walk me down there, call up these assholes, and have me deal with them.”

His hands grasped the air where she had been a second ago as his mind failed to register her abrupt disappearance. Frowning, he leaned forward to grab the arms of the chair and pull her close again. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she watched him look her over and hold for a little too long on her lips.

“I’d love to see them try and deal with you.”

Oh she was going to make him sweat so very much.

Grabbing his face and yanking it down to hers, she crushed her lips against his. He tasted like mint toothpaste, and he smelled like that cologne she bought him for Christmas. Gisa said it was cheap, but he’s smiled and thanked her for it anyway. And now he was wearing it. The very idea sent a thrill through her.

With a groan, he slid his hands along her legs and then underneath them to grab her ass and hike her out of her chair until she was flush against his chest. Her lips curled into a smile as she took his lower lip between her teeth and pulled hard enough to draw a sound from the back of his throat. Knotting her fingers in his hair, she tugged and whispered, “You get to deal with me first.”

His eyes opened, barely an inch from hers, and the look in them sent a shiver down her spine. When he looked at her like that, it drove her half mad every time. “Put me down and I’ll show you just how persuasive I can be.”

He set her down with exaggerated stillness, making sure to drag her body along his so she could feel every inch of him. Smirking at getting her way, Mare nudged him back until he was sitting on his desk. Bracing her hands on either side of him, she asked, “Which do you want first? Surprise one, or surprise two?”

His brow quirked, and he slid a hand around her waist to pull her between his legs. “I want you, just you.”

When his voice dropped that deep, it made it very difficult to stay focused on what she had planned. But she wanted to see him squirm, and if there was anything Mare Barrow was, it was persistent.

“Surprise number two it is.” She grinned like a cat with a mouse as she hooked his belt with a finger and trailed it along the waistband of his pants to the buckle. Humming to herself, she undid it, sliding it through each loop like a needle with thread. When it was fully out, she held it up with a wink. “Give me your wrists.”

Even in the heat of it all, his cheeks burned. Immediately he put his hands behind his back. Pouting at his movement, she lowered the belt. “It’s no fun if you don’t play along.”

“Can’t be restrained. I may have to get to my phone.”

“Then I’ll answer it and tell them you’re busy.” She teased before cupping the back of his neck and pulling him close to ghost her lips across his. He sighed, and the tension in his shoulders melted as she ran her hand along one side. She loved when he scrambled in these moments. Locked between a rock and hard place, he was like turtle on its back. If all she had to do to knock him down was insinuate like this, she would do it every night.

When he pulled away with narrowed eyes, she released a mock exasperated sigh and tossed the belt away. “Fine, next time.” Without giving him a moment of relief, she unbuttoned his pants and tugged to start sliding them off. “But since it’s my job to help you relieve stress, here’s what I’m going to do.”

He visibly swallowed, even as he helped her slide his pants off. Running her hands up his legs after she dropped them, Mare chewed on her lip. “If you can keep it together for longer than ten minutes, I will let you do me from behind.”

His eyes widened, shock pouring out of every pore of his body. She hated that position, and always refused it. It was the most degrading thing, she insisted. If a man was going to fuck her, he should look her in the eye while he did it. She may be trash from the other side of the tracks, but she knew her worth.

           “Ten?” He breathed, his eyes darting to the clock on the wall next to them.

           “Ten.” She confirmed before crouching down. “But it has to be ten. If you cheat, I’ll know because I will be keeping track of the time.”

           His mouth opened to refute before closing with a snap.  She could see him working it over, trying to determine whether or not she would play fair. She never really did, but this time she made a promise to herself that she would. Besides, she trusted him to at least make the whole experience entertaining.

           “Clock starts when I do.” She teased before tugging on the waistband of his boxers, making the elastic snap back. He tensed at the feeling, until she pulled them off too.

           Perhaps it was the fact that she had snuck up here, or maybe it was the fact that anyone—including one of the most prestigious board members—could walk in on them at any second, but the sight of him sent electricity along every nerve in her body.

           It was ten minutes. He wouldn’t make it to five, she told herself as she dragged her tongue along her lower lip. With that thought for reassurance, she gripped his thighs and closed her mouth over his cock. Immediately she felt the muscles in his legs tense, and his breathing hitched. She hummed, almost laughing at his reaction as he immediately grabbed the hair on the back of her head and pulled. She slid back an inch before diving back down, taking more than she had before. The groan he released was loud enough that she almost paused to make sure no one had heard. There was the fun in this, she supposed, getting caught might be exciting.

           “Mare.” He gasped as she continued her ministrations, and began to trail her nails along his skin up to his hips. Forcing her head down further, he muttered a breathless apology when she gagged. Digging her nails and fingers into his skin, she smiled and hummed again.

           “Fuck.” He spit the word like poison and bucked against her, earning another hum from her. “Not fair, that’s not fair.” He panted as she picked up the pace of her work.

           His finger dug into her scalp as he pulled even harder on her hair. She stayed on like a leach though, stifling a laugh at his squirming. His other hand gripped the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned white, and his legs tensed in time with each of her movements. But the stubborn bastard kept it together, and no matter what she tried in her arsenal, he only cursed and gripped that desk until she thought it might splinter.

           “Ten,” he crowed with a breathless laugh. “That’s ten.”

           Mare snapped away with a grunt, swiping her hand along her mouth, smearing the lip gloss across her cheek. Glowering up at him, she grumbled a curse word that would have made her mother slap her across the mouth. A deal was a deal.

           “Don’t look so bitter about it.” He teased, before cupping her face and lowering himself to capture her lips. His tongue darted along hers as his fingers gently pushed the hair he had pulled behind her ears.

           When she pulled away for air, her chest ached and the space between her legs ached even more. “I’ve got one more surprise for you.” She rose to her full height, and had the pleasure of seeing a bead of sweat roll down from his hairline. He had barely made it. If she was being honest, she would say that she hadn’t been keeping track of the time. She’d lost all of it to the feeling of his hips rocking and the tension of his muscles.

           Backing away a step, she winked at his confusion. “Remember a few weeks ago when I went to mall and made you go find something to do?” She fingered the zipper of her jacket, another bolt of electricity ran down her spine as he straightened up, completely attentive to her. “I was saving this for your birthday, but I got tired of waiting.”

As she went to unzip the jacket, he leaped, catching her hands almost knocking her over. Scrambling to stay on her feet, Mare let him take her whole weight as she gasped. “Fucking hell Cal—”

“Let me.” He smirked as he straightened her up and grabbed the zipper before she could. With a gentle tug, he unzipped it halfway, his eyes darkening again as he caught sight of the top half. She’d picked it carefully, the first time she’d ever done something like that honestly. Normally she grabbed things off the rack and hoped it matched. This though, she had taken her time selecting.

He had the jacket off in less than a heartbeat, and his fingers danced along the thin black lace of the corset. His eyes followed his hands as he searched the whole thing over, making her swallow in uncertainty. He trailed a knuckle along one of the many straps, his teeth obviously working at the inside of his cheek. Gently, he grabbed the waistband of her sweat pants and pulled them down as he dropped into a crouch before her. His eyes widened at the matching bottoms.

Immediately, his hands gripped the back of her legs as he glanced up at her. The weight of that stare could crush her if she didn’t realize that it was the most reverent of gazes. He looked at her like she had put the stars in the sky, and hung the moon too. It she was honest, she would admit that it might go to her head a little bit ans that the smile she gave him was mostly fed by that. She could bring this man to his knees by simply standing in a pair of lacy panties.

           “Where,” he voice cracked on the word, and his fingers dug into her hamstrings a little more before he dragged his lips up the inside of her bare thigh. “Where did you keep this?”

           Threading a hand through his hair, she exhaled in a sigh as his lips grazed the seam along the inside of her thigh. “You like it?”

           “I’ll like it better when it’s on the floor.” He murmured before sliding his hand up to grip her ass again. She almost yelped, and grabbing his shoulders she let out a breathless laugh as he pressed more kisses along the inside of her thigh.

           Standing up, he kept his hand on her as he lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and let him spin her around to the desk. With a quick sweep of his hand, he sent the papers all over it to the side before laying her down on it. With a tug, he dragged her back to the edge so she was still straddling him and braced his hands on either side of her head. She panted as she watched his lips curl into a hint of a smile.

           “Forget fucking you from behind.” He murmured, before lowering himself to trail his nose along her sternum. “I want to see every inch of you in this.”

           She grinned triumphantly as he slid a hand up her side to squeeze her breast, made far more generous with the help of the corset. It had been a good idea to listen to the pushy sales girl just because of that. “Good thing you don’t have to take it off.”

           His brow quirked in confusion, and sliding her hand down her body, she opened her legs a little wider to brush her fingers along herself. “Made sure it would be easy for you. Didn’t want you to feel intimidated by all the straps and buckles.”

           The snort he let out made her laugh, and she smiled as he stole the sound from her lips with a kiss. Rubbing his hips against hers, he lifted them off the table slightly until she was arched against him. Groaning when she felt how hard he was, she dug her nails into his arms, and said, “If I knew all it took to get you like this was wearing a pretty scrape of lace, I would buy sexier panties.”

           “I happen to like the panties you already own.” He teased before reaching between her legs for the bundle of nerves there. Rubbing in a tortuously slow circle, he grinned down at her as she craned her head back so her hair spilled across the desk. Grabbing onto the edge above she tried to grind against his palm, seeking further friction.

           Dropping his lips to her neck, he let his finger slide down to penetrate her. Groaning loud enough that she actually slapped her other hand over her mouth, Mare arched until her chest was smashed against his. He let out his own pleased sound at how wet he found her, and let her grind against his palm.

           “Can you last ten minutes?” He whispered in her ear before catching her earlobe with his teeth and pulling lightly. Mare twitched in response to the movement of his finger inside of her, whimpering when he pressed a kiss to the point where her pulse pounded in her neck. And although this was heavenly, she’d be damned if he won at this.

           Setting her jaw, she squeezed her legs together, earning a laugh from him as he withdrew his hand and brought his fingers to his lips. Sitting up quick enough to make herself dizzy, she grabbed his wrist to stop him from putting those fingers in his mouth. He froze as she closed her lips around his fingers and glanced up at him through her lashes. Releasing them with a pop, she watched his pupils dilate until they swallowed almost his entire iris.

           Smirking when a blush exploded across his cheeks and neck, she licked her lips and said, “You won’t even last that long.”

           Without speaking, he put a hand to her shoulder and slowly guided her back down to the desk as he stood over her. He pinned her hips down with his other hand as he tilted his head to the side ever so slightly and said, “I will take that as a challenge.”

           Mare’s heart fluttered in her chest at the tone of his voice, and how deep it had dropped. Keeping her breathing as level as possible, she closed her eyes as he traced a hand along her side and cupped her breast before leaving open mouthed kissed along the column of her throat.

“Cal,” she breathed his name in a gentle exhale as she threaded her fingers into his hair at the same time that he slipped his hand to her entrance again and pressed his palm against her.

           “Say my name like that again.” He whispered in her ear. “And I will do anything you want.”

           “Anything?” Her voice hitched as she ground against his palm, her eyes fluttering as she sought out the friction he denied her as he teasingly pulled away.

           His lips pulled up into a hint of a smile as he withdrew enough that she chased him with her lips. Their breath mixed as he rested his forehead against hers, and through her lightly fuzzy and crossed vision she could see the depths of his irises. Dark gold, and amber like honey. She could drown in them and be happy.

“Anything.” He answered her.

           Lowering herself back to the desk, she pulled him with her while her other hand threaded between them to grab his hip and pull him closer. Without breaking eye contact, he let her guide him to her entrance. With a sigh, she tipped her head back and locked her ankles behind his hips as he pulled her completely to the edge of the desk.

           “Cal.” She whispered as she grabbed the top of the desk again and squeezed her eyes shut.

           “That’s my girl.” He replied before putting a hand on her hip to keep her pinned to the desk and pulled out before pushing in deeper. Mare bucked against him, gasping as she clenched her thighs together around his hips, pulling him closer. Bracing his other hand next to her head, he dropped his chin as he moved in and out.            She only regretted doing this here for half a second, since she had to contain whatever sounds she made to minimal volumes. The last thing they needed was Volo Samos hearing something or coming to investigate what he was hearing. Although that might have been part of the thrill. If they were at her apartment, she could be as loud as she wanted, even with the window open. The traffic outside was loud enough to mask anything that happened in her shoebox apartment.

           “Harder.” She panted as she dragged her nails down the side of his nice shirt. She wanted to tear it off of him, to get to his skin underneath. He caught her hand before she could do just that, and pinning that hand above her head he obliged her. She half yelped, half gasped as she slid along the desk until her head almost dangled off the edge.

           Like a light switch flickering on and off, the light beyond her closed eyelids alternated with each meeting of their hips. She could feel the change in pace as he sensed her reaching her climax, and her lips curled into a pleased smile even as she arched slightly, hoping to escape him to last longer. He laughed softly at her attempt and pulled her toward him until she was dangling off the desk and had to grab on or risk falling to the floor. He caught her, but she still gasped as the change in angle pushed her completely over the edge so she shattered like glass. Every muscle in her legs contracted and her chest hitched on the rapid inhale she took. Curling around him as much as she could in her position, she stifled any other sound that wanted to come out.

           The best part? She knew she had lasted longer than ten minutes. The worst part? She wanted him again. And there was no way that was going to happen because as she sat there panting after he put her back on the desk and bent over to kiss her lightly, she heard the subtle ringing from a cell phone.

           “You’re getting a call.” She panted in his ear as she ran her fingers through his hair. It was damp now, and his chest pushed into hers with every inhale he took around his rapid heartbeat.

           “It can wait.” He murmured in reply before pressing a kiss against her jaw again.

           “I thought thirty and a half million dollars meant a lot right now.” She laughed as she traced a finger down the column of his spine from his neck to the middle of his back. He turned the full force of his gaze on her and she almost melted into a puddle in the heat of it.

           “You’re worth more than that. More than any deal, any job.” He kissed the tip of her nose. It kept her from turning away to hide the blush that exploded across her cheeks. He traced a thumb along it, and smiling at her he continued, “Who’s blushing now?”

           With an amused roll of her eyes, she traced a finger along his jaw in response to his light touches. This close to him, she realized he was beautiful, in the same way a marble statue in a museum was. She used to think he belonged in places like that, surrounded by priceless and irreplaceable objects that everyone paid to see.

           “I love you.” She tilted her head to the side, testing the phrase again. It was only the third or fourth time she had used it seriously with him. The weight of it settled over him, and he brought her fingers to his lips to press a kiss to them.

           “I love you.” He dropped the hand and pulled her into a sitting position so she could drop her legs from around his waist. Still connected with him, she trailed her fingers along his arms and drank her fill of him with her eyes. A part of her knew that someday she would lose him. Nothing in her life was ever truly hers and he luck had always been rotten, it was why she never bought a lottery ticket. And of course, his father did not like her. He wanted her gone because he saw her as an obstacle, or a hurdle his son would trip over. It took everything to not dig her fingers into Cal’s arm when they were around his father. Maybe if she did so, she could tattoo herself onto him and never lose him.

           “What are you thinking so deeply about?” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and pressed another kiss to the tip of her nose.

           “Nothing important.” She lied effortlessly, the smile she conjured for him almost real. If he saw through it he didn’t comment. The phone rang again from its sad position on the floor where it had ended up, and this time they both looked at it. The screen was lit up and he grimaced at the number showing on it.

           “I think you have to take that one.” Mare whispered before pressing a kiss to his cheek and sliding away from him to hop off the desk. He managed to catch her, and bring her to his chest before she could escape. Closing her eyes, she let herself melt against him for a second, inhaling the smell of his cologne and the smell of her that was now on him.

           When he pulled away to grab the phone off the floor and his pants from their pile near it, she sank back into the chair and watched his back as he finally answered the call. Whatever he was saying was like a buzz against her ears. She could only see him right then: the man he was, and the one he could become. She hated what he was in a small part of herself. But he wasn’t… he wasn’t like the other people he had spent most of his life around. And neither was his brother. Maybe that’s what that life did to people like them. Pushed them so hard that they turned out the opposite of their parents.

           He glanced at her with a smile as he managed to step into his pants with one hand and pull them up. She conjured up another smile for him and stood to fix his hair. He leaned down far enough that she could do that while he went about stringing his belt back into his pants. She trailed her fingers along his chest and down to the buckle and wrestled his fingers from it to clasp it shut herself.

           By the time she had finished he was done with the call, and was sitting in silence watching her work. She glanced up at him through her lashes, but he cupped the back of her head so she tipped her head back completely to him. His thumb rubbed a soothing rhythm along the back of her skull as he whispered, “I have to go. They found a solution.”

           She nodded. “So I guess you don’t have to bring out the big guns and put me in front of them.” Her smile was easy even as she prepared to pull away from him again. He held her steady, staring into her eyes for a long moment.

Just after the silence had stretched too far, he whispered, “Thank you.”

           “For what?” She managed to disentangle herself from him, and turned to gather her clothes. If he was leaving she needed to disappear too. They couldn’t leave together though, or people might notice. And she did not need it getting back to his father that she had broken any of those stupid rules. Then she might as well consider this the last time she ever saw him. What a last time it would be though. It would live with her for the remainder of what she had heard his father call a measly insignificant little life.

           “Everything. You… you make me impossibly happy Mare.” He threaded an arm around her waist before pulling her back against his chest and laying a kiss on top of her head. She finally melted completely into his arms. Wrapping his forearms with hers to trap him for a moment longer she closed her eyes. Suddenly, she didn’t care about the rules she had agreed to. Rules were meant to be broken, and she had always excelled at doing just that. With him, she would break every rule and scatter the ashes of them to the wind.

#(*ask lily*) #(*shut up lily*) #my writing #my fanfics #red queen #glass sword #kings cage #war storm #broken throne #post broken throne #marecal #office au #enjoy everyone! #rated M for MATURE please #thank you #also find on AO3

[starshipsofstarlord]

Tattoo Roulette | 5th Second

Warnings; swearing, tattoo (not really a warning but putting it here coz needles and stuff),

The music played, orchestrating the applause of the audience, as the camera swept above, focusing on all that stood upon the stage.

It stopped momentarily on the host, the blonde clapping his hands as he began to introduce his well known and loved guests.

“Welcome back, I am joined by Luke, Calum, y/n, Ashton and Michael, also known as 5 Seconds of Summer!” He exclaimed, pulling another round of applause from the live viewers and those on stage.

Due to your band members doing so, you lightly clapped your hands, awaiting the reveal that you knew was on its way.

“And we are about to play what is definitely the craziest game we ever do on our show. It is a game I am already regretting. It’s time for tattoo roulette with 5 sexonds of summer.”

“Alright here’s how it works; on that table we have six boxes. Inside four of those boxes is the word safe. Inside two of them is the word tattoo. Each of us will choose a box, the people’s whose boxes say tattoo, will get a tattoo, right here, live in the studio, on the show.”

Screaming and clapping aroused from the crowd, making you slightly shuffle from nerves. It wouldn’t be the first time doing considerably stupid stuff on live television, nor in front of an audience, but having a permanent reminder of it was slightly unnerving.

It would be a memorable tale, and you’d be setting a bad example for your daughter in the future, at least that’s what you told yourself.

The truthful excuse as to why you were so blatant to not want to be tatted was the needles themselves. They were off putting, and although you’d had to endure their buzz before, through a cross section of five symbolic lines stapling for the band, and however many more you had or didn’t have, it was still going to be in front of many eyes.

If you passed out, that would be more than humiliating . You could practically see the memes already, but you shook your head, focusing on Corden and his explanatory words.

“Now, if it’s a member of 5 seconds of summer, they will have the words ‘Late Late’ tattooed on them. If it’s me, I will have 5SOS tattooed on me.”

Luke threw his head back slightly, amused by the possible circumstance that James

“Yeah, 5 seconds of summer and a lifetime of regret. Now we have our tattoo artist Max Hansen standing by, thankyou for being here Max. It’s tense, there’s a tense feeling in the air, now y/n, your husband is the only member of 5 seconds of summer that does not have a tattoo. How are you going to feel if he gets the bad luck.”

“Relieved that it’s not me?” You almost questioned, earning almost a snort from Cal, and a playful glare from your partner.

There were too chances, given how many of there were of you enduring this late late game, and that only worsened your fear of having bad luck through this ordeal.

“Feel free to go first.” Hesitantly you walked across the stage, shutting your eyes for a second, and softly grabbing the first box that you saw; the one closest to you. “Are you’d here on that one?”

You walked it over to the pedestal, comforted by the fact that James didn’t know which two held the consequences in either. A part of you sincerely hoped that he got it, he had roped you into playing this game, and as your fingers toyed with the latch, you already regretted it.

Slowly you pulled it up, revealing the word inside the box to the crowd. There were laughs and a couple of squeals, and so you peered around, chucking your head back in disappointment.

“Mother fucker!” After your exclamation, your hand quickly covered your mouth, remembering that all was recorded and streamed right then and there.

As you looked over to your band, the boys were beyond amused. Luke seemed to be enjoying it the most, and so you stuck your nose up at him and huffed.

“You’re a terrible husband.” You bellowed over to him, which earnt an exaggerated eye roll. This was a normal interaction between the pair of you, and the crowd seemed to love it.

“You love me.” He stated, his dimples showing upon his cheeks. It was true, you did, and as you clasped onto the box, you changed your mind.

“I hope you get the next one.” You smiled cheekily, James cutting off this flirty fued, as much as it was entertaining, there wasn’t tons of time for it, the rest of them still had to take their chances.

“Y/n, please go stand with Max, he’ll begin prepping you for the ink.” James said, to which you complied, crossing your fingers into hoping that your husband had the same karma as you had.

🏹

“Who would have thought we’d ever get matching tattoos?” Ashton asked you, which earnt a snort from yourself.

“It’s as though we’re meant to be together.” You sighed breathlessly, earning a pout from the tall blonde that you were betrothed to. “Stop being a baby, you didn’t want one, you’re still a blank canvas honey.”

That had Luke thinking, he would get one of his own accord. He would surprise you, and he was sure you’d go crazy over it and him, like you had that time he had gotten his lip pierced.

Taglist

@coucoukayy

@reallygroovyholland

@faithhsworld

@lukehemmingsleftnipple

@innocent-as-a-rose

@marvel-af

@kingxnichole

@winchestergirl907

#luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings one shot #luke x reader #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x oc #luke hemmings x you #luke x y/n #5sos imgaines #5sos one shot #5sos fic #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos imagines #5sos imagine #5sos luke #luke 5sos #5sos x you #5sos x y/n #5sos x reader #5 seconds of summer x reader #imagines #imagine #xreader

[calmsweetcreature]

Making Out (BLURB 4/4)

A/N: These are little preference type things where someone sends me a prompt or title and I do a little blurb for each guy💙 send me ideas my lovelies! And let me know what you think! 

Warnings: Mainly fluff, might be a lil’ something smutty here or there.

Luke

I feel like with Luke it would start with you both cuddling Petunia on a warm sunny afternoon. 

***

You had been lounging on the couch for most of the day, listening to chill music and enjoying each other’s company. Luke had been staring at his two girls for a long time now, watching you nuzzle your nose against the top of Piggy’s head and kiss her ears.

“I’m starting to feel neglected over here.” Luke’s voice comes out husky from lack of talking, the two of you enjoying the silence and peace of the lazy summer afternoon.

“Awh poor baby,” you tease, grinning cheekily at your boyfriend as you leave Petunia’s side to crawl across the couch to lay across Luke’s lap.

“Damn right,” He smiles sweetly at you, stroking his fingers across your cheek. You lean into his hand, sighing contently as you both stare into each others eyes. Your eyes sparkle with a bright and happy love in them as you lean up to peck your man on the lips.

Luke instantly deepens the movement of his lips on yours and his fingers slide through your hair to hold your head close. 

Without parting from the kiss you move to straddle his lap, your hands on his shoulders. You both want to be as physically close as you can get, with your bodies pressed up against each others. You both moan against each others mouths as your fingers tangle in his curls to give little tugs while his hands grip your neck and his thumbs rub over your jaw.

It wasn’t so much intense as it was needy, both of you playfully going between shorter pecks and long tongue rolling kisses as you wrapped yourself around each other.

You could feel that Luke was affected by your kisses and you couldn’t help the giggle that spills out of your lips, causing him to pull away and glare at you playfully.

“What are you laughing at there missy? I know it isn’t my amazing kissing skills.” You roll your eyes at his words and tug on his hair hairder making him laugh.

“Not at all bub, I just feel flattered that my superior kissing skills have affected you so much.” To prove your point you wiggle your hips causing Luke to gasp out loud.

“You’ve got me there love. What do ya say we move this to the bedroom?” He wiggles his eyebrows and gives you an exaggerated wink, causing you to laugh out loud and lean forward so your lips are to his ear.

“Sounds like a plan, but I think that it’s only fair if...” You dip your head lower to leave a long lick along the sensitive part of his neck causing Luke to shiver. “...Last one to the bedroom is a couch potato!” 

You jump off of Luke’s lap and run towards the bedroom, cackling loudly as you hear Luke’s footsteps behind you.

“Hey no fair!” His shout echoes through the halls as he chases after his girl.

Calum

Our loveable soft boi at his finest

***

You had been standing in the doorway for the best part of fifteen minutes, watching Cal’s face intently concentrating on his computer screen. He had been messing around with a new song idea and had recorded bits and pieces to mess around with. He’d listen to the same ten second clip about forty times and was ready to pull his hair out. He takes his headphones off and leaves them around his neck as he adjusts his cap. He rests his head back against the chair and groans softly, his eyes slipping shut.

You sigh softly, walking over to your man and placing your hands on his shoulders. He jumps slightly before relaxing into your gentle touch as you try to soothe his tense muscles.

“Don’t think I didn’t know you were watching me, creeper.” His words are a soft murmur and you gasp, spinning his chair around until he is facing you.

“If you knew then why didn’t you talk to me?” You fake hurt for a second before a smile fills your face and you sit softly in his lap. His arms go around your waist and his hands settle on your thighs, drawing a lazy pattern up and down your legs.

“I’m sorry doll, I was concentrating extra hard. Not that it helped, I’m still not sure what to do with it and my heads fucked.” His eyes look so tired that you can’t help but clutch his face in your hands, peppering kisses all over his cheeks and mouth.

“What do you say we order food in, I run you a hot bath while we wait for it and then we sit outside with a few beers and some music and relax? You can come back to this tomorrow with a fresh mind.” You press your forehead against his and place your hands on his shoulders again, rubbing the tension away.

“You’re too fucking good to me, but you got one thing wrong sweetness.” His words are low and heavy which makes your stomach tighten.

“What’s that?” Your words are hushed as you stare into his eyes, sure he can see the longing in yours.

“You’re going to run us a bath, if I’m going to relax I’m going to need my girl with me.” You smile at his words, nodding your head softly before Calum reaches a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss. His plush lips move against yours softly and you sigh into the kiss. 

After a few seconds you both pull away and you can see a twinkle returning to the eyes of your thoughtful boy. 

“I love you doll.”

“Love you always my music man.”

Your lips meet again and you just enjoy being close, getting drunk on the taste of each other.

Ashton

I miss our cheerful man, so I couldn’t resist this scenario.

***

The music was blaring through the house as you stood at the kitchen counter, shimmying your hips and using the mixing spoon as your microphone, your cake mix starting to look as it should.

“Woah, we’re halfway there woah, livin’ on a prayer!” You spun around, your fuzzy socks sliding across the floor. 

“Take my hand, we’ll make it I swear!” Ashton’s voice makes you jump as his arms wrap around your waist as he spins you around.

“Woah, livin on a prayer, living on a prayer!” You both sing your hearts out, laughing as you fall to the floor in a heap. An egg drops from the counter, heading for the floor when Ashton’s quick reflexes stop it from hitting the ground.

“So I see you’re having a productive day,” Ash’s eyes are teasing but the big smile on his face is infectious and you grin back at him.

“I’m making a cake, half of it is in the oven and I’ve just finished the second half - it’s going to be amazing!” You say proudly.

“I can see that angel, just don’t burn the house down again yeah?” You gasp, hitting him on the chest as you climb on top of him.

“Take that back Irwin! That was one time and I’d hardly call it burning the house down... it was just a little smoke!” You can’t stop the blush rising to your cheeks as Ash laughs, sitting up on the kitchen floor. 

“That cake was delicious if I remember, charcoal was very on trend back then.” He smirks, planting a kiss on your nose as you growl softly at him in annoyance.

“Well let me get back to this one if you don’t want a repeat, I don’t need your distractions today mister!” You go to get up when one of his hands goes to your back to keep you in place.

“Not all distractions are bad ones.” He murmurs, his lips finding yours. You both battle for dominance but Ash eventually wins (duh) and he deepens the kiss, his tongue rolling against yours before he leans back to bite your bottom lip. You get lost in the kiss, your hand sliding under his tee to feel his chest when you hear and feel a crunch against the back of your head before a trail of slime falls down your hair. You pull away in shock.

“Oh. No. You fucking didn’t.” His grin tells all and you look down at his hand to see the remnants of a crushed raw egg in his hands. “You’re about to fucking get it Irwin.”

The two of you pause for a moment before you’re both scrambling to reach for anything and everything you can get your hands on, flinging flour and cake mixture at each other until you yet again slip and land with a crash on the floor, only this time you are both covered in food.

“Damn it Ashton! I have to start again!” You’re words are scolding but the grin on your face can’t be hidden as you stare down the love of your life.

He laughs, pushing cake mix covered hair out of your face and pulling you in for another long drawn out kiss. The oven timer goes off and he stands, switching off the oven to avoid another cake burning disaster.

“Now now my little cupcake. You know the best part about making cakes?” You shake your head, taking the hand he holds out to you and lifting yourself off of the floor. He picks you up by your hips and wraps your legs around his waist, carrying you carefully through the house. “Washing it off each others bodies.”

Michael

Our gamer lad, seemed fitting

***

You had been led in bed for over an hour waiting for Mikey to finish his game. You weren’t annoyed at him by any means but you were beginning to feel neglected and in all honesty, needy.

You come up with a master plan and start walking towards his office, shedding your sweatpants leaving you only in Michael’s hoodie, your undies and the knee high socks you know drive him crazy. You can hear him talking on his headset and you chuckle under your breath as you swing the door open slightly. He looks extra cute today in his stripey sweater and glasses, a beanie sat on his messy hair.

He pauses the game at the sound of the door opening and turns to look at you, choking on his breath when he sees what your wearing.

He lifts the mic away from his mouth, swearing under his breath.

“Uh hey baby, you okay?” He asks, his eyes on your legs as you walk over to him.

“I’m feeling needy M, can I sit with you while you play?” You don’t wait for his answer before you straddle his lap, your legs folded next to his as you bury your face in his neck.

“Of course baby, you don’t need to ask. Are you sure you’re okay?” He strokes your back softly, feeling you nod your head against his neck.

He pecks your shoulder softly before repositioning his headset and continuing his game. You sit quietly for the next ten to fifteen minutes while he plays, nestling against his chest and feeling him shake with laughter or rumble when something goes wrong.

As he really settles into the gameplay you start littering tiny kisses against his neck. You feel him tense slightly before resuming the game, every chance he gets he rubs his hand across your back. You start deepening the kisses, pecking over the stubble and occasionally finding a spot to suck on softly. You feel him lip the mic once again.

“Baby, what are you doing?” He tenses, although he tilts his head slightly to the side so that you can reach more of his neck and you know that your plan is working. 

You lick where his neck and shoulder meet and you feel him shiver which lets you know to initiate the next part of the plan.

You start to circle your hips over his crotch softly and a little moan leaves his lips.

“You’re playing a dangerous game sweetheart.” He murmurs. You giggle softly against his neck and he sighs, gritting his teeth and sucking in a breath as you grind particularly hard down onto the growing bulge in his pants. He quits the game, ripping off his headset and throwing it onto the couch behind him.

He grips your jaw in his hand and roughly pulls your face to his, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

“So when you said you were needy...” His words trail off as he notices the desire in your eyes, your hips fully rocking against him. 

He uses his thumb on your bottom lip to open your mouth wide, slanting his face and leaning in so that he can crash his lips hard against yours. You give in to him straight away, kissing him as hard as you can. Your tongues wrestle back and forth and its a filthy kiss with so much need involved that it sets your bodies on fire.

It’s a few minutes before you’re both pulling away and panting hard, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Do you want to go back to bed or shall we just stay here?” His words are hushed but he hears your whine and knows exactly what you need. “I got you baby.” His fingers curl your hair around his fist and he moves your head so his lips can attach to your neck as other hand trails softly under the hoodie your wearing. Let’s just say he knows exactly what buttons to press, your gamer guy.

#5sos #5sos imgaines #5sos smut #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #calum hood #michael clifford #michael clifford smut #calum hood smut #ashton irwin smut #luke hemmings smut #luke hemming imagines #calum hood imagine #ashton irwin imagine #michael clifford imagine

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (36) || atz

You plunge into the sea.

For a moment, you twist in the endless expanse of water, arms flailing about as icy cold sea yank every bit of of heat from you. Panic erupts in you as you open your mouth to cry out in shock, but then the same voices from before ring in your ears, more clearly this time underwater.

“Yes…”

“Come to us…”

Your head breaks the surface of the waves and you swim as hard as you can for the sirens’ call. The sea, previously unrelenting, seems to calm just for you, leaving you an easy path right towards the sirens’ rock.

One of them, with a long jeweled tail sparkling in pearly shades of rose and tangerine, reaches a hand out for you, the smile on her face radiant as the rising sun. Two of the sirens at her side with flickering aquamarine tails slide into the water smoothly and swim with the grace of a swan to your side, like dolphins they circle you.

You’re lost in the yearning of their gaze, in complete ignorance the roar of the storm above you and the way the sea is heaving all around you. You are captured by the way their own eyes are a deep sea blue, an endless, infinite depth to them.

Then they attack.

One of the sirens lunge for you, cutting straight through the water like a shark. She clings onto your arm and bites down hard on the skin there, it breaks and pain floods through you, wiping the spell from your mind completely.

What are you doing here?

Suddenly desperate, you thrash about in the water, striking the siren hard in the face and she falls back into the water with a furious screech, her beautiful features twisted with fury and hate. You manage to feel a small bit of elation at having fended her off, but the joy at your success doesn’t last very long.

The other siren speeds towards you like a sword cutting through the waves, his teeth bared in a snarl. To your horror, you can see fangs in his mouth, each razor sharp and perfectly capable of chomping through your arm in a matter of seconds.

There’s no way you can fight something like that off. Instinctively, you raise your arms to protect your face and your eyes squeeze tight, unwilling to look at your own death in the eye as you await the teeth to sink into you.

But it never comes.

Instead, there’s the sound of a gunshot and you feel something warm splatter across your face.

Your eyes fly open in shock, only to see the face of the siren who was about to chew right through your neck in a single bite mere inches from yours. Then you see the musket ball buried in the centre of his forehead, still smoking as a thin stream of clear, warm liquid trails from the hole, his startled blue eyes staring right into yours like you’re the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

And then his entire body crumbles right before your eyes, melting into seafoam and disappearing with the waves.

The other siren screams and lunges for you once more but she’s shot down as well in a matter of seconds. There must be a deadly sharpshooter on the Treasure, because each shot is precise and measured, not a second too late or early. You struggle against the waters, trying to swim back to the ship, but then the siren with the orange tail slides into the sea as well, gliding towards you on the waves with a malevolent gleam in her eye.

Fear shoots through your body. Are you going to die here?

Then a pair of warm arms wrap around you, pulling you protectively against his chest. The blade of a cutlass scythes down at your side, cutting through the arm of the blonde siren as she reaches for you.

The limb falls into the water with a sickly splash.

You shut your eyes tight against the sight, from the sound alone your stomach heaves and now isn’t really the time to be throwing up. Instead, you turn to glance at your saviour, expecting perhaps Yunho or Wooyoung, but your eyes widen from shock when you see exactly who it is.

It’s your captain himself.

“Stay back!” He snarls at the siren, one arm still holding you protectively to him as he treads water, keeping the two of you afloat. The raging sea around you stills at once, falling obedient to the blessing of the sea god upon your captain.

The siren hisses back at your captain as one hand comes up to the empty socket where her arm used to be, clear water gushing from the wound. The threat on her face is clear, from the way her deep blue eyes flicker with raw, primal fury and her fangs resemble those of a venomous snake’s.

“Let her go, you accursed mortal!”

Her voice is more of a demonic rasp now, nothing like the enchanting songbird you had heard earlier, but you understand the words all the same.

Startled shock runs through you. From what you’ve gathered by listening to Wooyoung, the sirens tempt people into the seas with honeyed voices, luring them to their deaths by having them drown in the ocean. But why would are the sirens so fixated on trying to physically attack you instead?

You can see the fight being waged behind her eyes, torn between the desire to rip you from your captain’s arms and rip your body to shreds yet being restrained by something, whether physical or mental you don’t know, but you’re very grateful for it.

Hongjoong begins swimming backwards with you still in his arms, dragging you with him like a sack of wet clothes. The siren moves forward then hesitates, undiluted anger and pain in her eyes as she watches the two of you move further and further from her reach.

She decides to play her last hand.

“If she stays with you, she’ll die!”

Your heart drops in your chest. The storm around you seems to die away, the wind falling silent as that one sentence reverberates in your mind like a chant.

What?

You can feel your captain almost stop moving, hesitant. But then he shakes his head and continues swimming hard for the ship, hands wrapping tight around a rope dangling from the portside and tying both of you to it.

You’re lifted from the sea excruciatingly slowly, your eyes still fixed on the siren. Her gaze never leaves your, a silent plea, fingers of her one remaining hand reaching out for you.

“Please.”

And then you’re back on deck, Seonghwa bustling around the two of you with dry towels as water drips from your clothes onto the deck. You’re shivering, hands and fingers turning pale and bloodless from the cold, blood gushing from your upper arm. You must be flying high as a kite on adrenaline because you feel no pain except for a numbing sensation slowly creeping its way up your limbs, but then your master is rushing to you with a thick cloth to stem the bleeding while Seonghwa dries your hair.

You glance behind you to see Wooyoung at the railing with a flintlock rifle pointed straight into the water beneath, green eyes sharp with focus like you’ve never seen before. He’s as still as a statue, so motionless you would think he’d turned to stone if it weren’t for the way his chest is rising and falling ever so slightly with each breath. The intensity of his gaze is enough to send a shiver down your spine, and even though his face is completely emotionless for the first time you’ve seen it, you can feel the murderous aura radiating from him like heat from a wildfire.

He must have been the one who shot those two sirens.

For a second, you’re reminded of Mingi’s words to you on that beach a few days earlier, words that you couldn’t bring yourself to believe back then.

“He was a dangerous, dangerous man, to the point even I was afraid of him.”

At first, you had merely brushed the description of your mischievous best friend aside as exaggeration. Playful? Sure. A little mean spirited? Well, maybe. But dangerous? Of course not.

But now?

You almost can’t recognise him, and that scares you.

Your captain is heaving for breath as he gets to his feet unsteadily, almost falling over as Yunho supports him by the arm. All of them still have their earplugs in, and with a quick glance at the forecastle deck, you confirm that he’s standing at the wheel steering the ship in place of your captain.

And from the look he gives you, you’re in line for a tongue lashing.

Hongjoong’s one green eye snaps over to you fiercely and you flinch, suddenly fully aware of the gravity of what you’ve you’ve done. You just took off your earplugs after your captain intently ordered you not to at all costs, dived straight into the embrace of man killing monsters and had risked your captain’s own life in the process.

Your head bows of its own accord in shame.

“I’m sorry.” You manage to croak out, feeling your eyes starting to get damp. Seonghwa and San obviously can’t hear the apology as they continue to treat your wound without missing a beat, but your captain continues to stare at you with an intense look on his face.

“Why?”

His voice is stern, not mad like you had expected it to be, and you raise your head to look at him in surprise. He meets your gaze evenly, repeating his question one more time.

“Why did you take your earplugs out?”

At that, you frown in confusion yourself. Thinking back, you were very sure that you had your earplugs in securely, you couldn’t hear a sound after you had put them in. Yet, when you had closed your eyes after Wooyoung had left with Yunho to fix the sail, you had…

Shock descends upon you as you realise exactly what had happened.

You had heard their voices in your head.

As much as you’re glad to have made the discovery that it wasn’t entirely your fault, you’re equally scared about what it might mean. Just like that monster from earlier, right when you had joined the ship… you had heard their calls in your mind... but how?

“They’ll try to bring you back to them at any cost, even if it ends in death.”

Were those sirens… the ones who didn’t understand? Why were they trying to kill you?

“Captain…” You ask suddenly, having forgotten his question a while ago. “The monster that I spotted when I first joined the ship… what was it?”

Your voice is surprisingly steady and Hongjoong frowns at the abrupt change in topic as he sheds the red jacket, freeing his arms. “From Yeosang’s books, I believe it was called the Kraken. A mythical beast rumoured to be a servant of the sea goddess. You had good eyesight, that’s how you spotted it, isn’t it?”

“No…” You trail off in a whisper, terror sinking deep in your chest. You had thought that your identity problem had been more or less cleared up when Yeosang had found out that you were a golem, but it seems a bit more complicated than that. “I… I heard it’s voice in my head. Just like how I heard those sirens even though my ears were plugged.”

Your captain’s eye narrows at your words in disbelief. “You… heard their voices? In your head?”

Barely managing a nod, you stare back at Hongjoong. “What… what am I?”

Your voice breaks at the last word and you’re fighting to keep yourself from hyperventilating. All this is too much, too crazy. Who are you? What are you? Why were the sirens trying to kill you? What are you trapped in? And that siren… she said…

“If she stays with you, she’ll die.”

“Die?”

You didn’t want to die.

Gasps force their way from your chest in shaky, uneven pants as you shiver uncontrollably from the fear. Your captain immediately steps forward, putting both hands on your shoulders and squeezing them reassuringly. Seonghwa and San must sense something in wrong, because they both pull away to stare at you in abject concern, your master eyeing Hongjoong as if trying to communicate without words.

Your captain ignores him, looking you in the eye seriously. His gaze burns bright green.

“I won’t let you die.” Hongjoong says solemnly. You can feel the weight of every word that leaves his lips, and deep within you, you know it is something more than a comforting phrase, more than just lip service to get you to calm down. He truly means every word he says.

Then you nod, because as much as some part of you knows it’s impossible to keep such a promise, you want to trust him. Your fear suddenly fades away, like his words are some sort of magic spell, and you’re stunned to find you’re breathing normally once more, shoulders relaxing under his touch.

“Chin Hae? Chin Hae, are you alright?” San asks you earnestly even though he can’t hear you, concern shining in his eyes as he shakes you a little. You nod back at your master, trying to convey that you’re fine and he wraps you in a shaky hug, not even bothering to ask for an explanation why you jumped into the sea in the first place.

Hongjoong gestures for Seonghwa to remove his earplugs.

The cook finally does so, sighing in relief when he can hear once again. Then he turns to wave at the rest of the crew, signalling that it’s safe, and all of them begin to remove their earplugs, shoulders slumping when they realise that they’re finally out in the clear.

Only Wooyoung remains unmoving at the bulwarks, rifle still fixed at the sea, green eyes unblinking. There’s something dark in his gaze that unnerves you, but you remind yourself that this is gentle, sweet Wooyoung, who risked his life to save you back on Nassau, who gave you the hairpin you treasure so greatly.

You rise to your feet, intending to tap him on the shoulder and tell him that it’s over, but then Hongjoong grabs you firmly by the wrist before you can take a step forward.

You turn to look at him in confusion.

Your captain shakes his head grimly. “Wooyoung’s in a… mood… right now. It’s better if you don’t catch him by surprise.”

Your heart sinks in your chest.

Hongjoong must see your expression, because he simply turns you around by the shoulders and steers you towards the sickbay, telling San to accompany you and heal your arm. “Leave me to it, alright, Chin Hae?”

And you nod, because you can’t refuse your captain, and you throw one last glance over your shoulder as you leave.

Just as the door shuts behind you, there’s the sound of a musket shot.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #jongho #wooyoung #san #mingi #yunho #yeosang #ateez pirate king #w; ot8 #w; pirate king #w; fanfiction

[calumance]

how would Ash or Cal be during labor?

Calum would absolutely be the biggest cheerleader. 🥰🥰

           It was the middle of the night when a stabbing pain went shooting through your abdomen. The pian caused you to gasp and sit straight up, clutching your oversized baby bump. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to wrap your mind around what was happening. It took a minute, but you finally realized you were in labor. Calum barely noticed your movements, so you reached over and started to pat his chest at a rapid speed. Calum jumped and his hands immediately flew to his eyes, trying to figure out what was happening. “What’s going on?” He mumbled into his hands.

           You pointed at your belly and tried to stabilize your breathing, taking all of the labor classes you had taken and acting on it. “Baby, coming.” You finally said through labored breaths.

           Calum removed his hands from his eyes and looked at you. His eyebrows stitched together and he blinked a few more times, the sleep binding the gears in his mind. You raised your eyebrows and pointed at your belly again, more exaggerated this time. As if the gears started turning all of the sudden, Calum tossed the comforter off his body and started running around the bedroom in a panic. “Shit, the baby is coming.” He said as he ran his hand through his dark curls.

           As Calum ran around the bedroom, grabbing the hospital bags, you focused on getting out of bed and putting on something other than the shirt you sleep in. Once Calum had the bags thrown over his shoulders, he put one hand on your lower back, and the other on your belly as you waddled out the front door and to the car.

           The door clunked shut as you sat back, holding the sides of your belly and trying to breathe through the immensely painful contractions. Calum started the car and skidded out of the driveway, speeding his way down the roads towards the hospital. Another contraction washed over you and you reached over to grab Calum’s bicep. You screamed and dug your nails into his bicep, causing him to scream with you. After the contraction ended, you released Calum’s arm and he let out a breath with you. “We’re almost there, sunshine, hold on.”

           The tires squealed as the car skidded to a halt at the front of the hospital. Calum tossed the keys at the valet before making his way over to your side of the car to help you out. A couple of workers sitting at the front desk came running out with a wheel chair. Calum helped you sit in it before turning to the valet and grabbing the ticket. You reached forward wanting to hold onto Calum’s hand, the tears starting to well in your eyes, the fear of actually giving birth suddenly settling in your stomach. “Oh, god, I’m so scared.” You said through tears and another wave of pain.

           Calum grunted in pain as you squeezed the ever living hell out of his hand, but gritted his teeth to talk you down. “You’re going to do great, honey. I know you’re scared, I’m scared too, but I’m here and I’m not going to leave your side.” Calum nodded and kissed your fingers as you loosened your grip on his fingers. The tears didn’t stop, but you nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat. As long as he didn’t leave your side, the fear dissipated.

           Immediately after getting into the room, nurses started to strip your clothes off and change you into a hospital gown. Calum let go of your hand as the nurses got him dressed in makeshift scrubs. His eyes didn’t leave you for a second, and your eyes stayed locked on his. As soon as he was appropriately dressed, he made his way to your side and grabbed your hand. He placed a kiss to your temple as his free hand started to smooth down your hair. “Did you call anyone and tell them?” You asked as a droplet of sweat rolled down your cheek.

           A smile crawled across his lips and then he let out a soft chuckle. “I sent a message to Ashton, he’ll probably call everyone.” You nodded, knowing that he probably thought you were crazy for being more worried about everyone knowing than actually having the baby.

           “Alright, it’s time to push.” The doctor said, peeking her head out from checking to see what was going on.

           You nodded and started to take some deep breaths. Calum squeezed your hand and ran his fingers through your hair, “You got this, You can do it, I’m right here.” He cheered. His positive encouragement gave you the strength to start pushing. The hospital room filled with screams of pain from both you and him as you squeezed his hand as tightly as you could.

           Hours of pushing and screaming had gone by, feeling like there was no end in sight. Sweat soaked your hair and your back, and you were almost too tired to continue pushing. The doctor said something, but the exhausted mumbled everything. “Come on, baby, only one more push. You got this.” You shook your head as Calum spoke into your ear. “Yes, you have to, you’re almost there.” You turned your head to look up at Calum and he pressed his lips to your forehead.

           The look in Calum’s eyes was enough to give you the strength you needed to push one more time. With one more push, the pain suddenly diminished. “It’s a boy.” The doctor said holding up your freshly birthed baby. “Dad, would you like to cut the cord?” Calum looked at you to make sure you were okay, when you nodded, he left your side and went to stand next to the doctor.

           You watched Calum as he smiled from ear to ear, tears lining his eyes. He cut the cord and waited as the doctors finished cleaning up your new born baby and wrapping him in a blanket. The doctor passed your new born to Calum who immediately turned around and walked next to you. The exhaustion faded enough for you to push yourself up to peak at the bundle in Calum’s arms. The tears started to fill your eyes the second you looked at him, and Calum started to pass him over to you. Once the baby was out of Calum’s arms, he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head. “I love you so much, you’re amazing.” He said before exiting the room to update everyone in the waiting room. You watched as he walked out, appreciative that Calum always has been and always will be your biggest cheerleader.

************

Tag list: @mantlereid @notinthesameguey @viiirg0 @wheniminouterspace @thinkofmehlgh @another-lonely-heart @limer-encia @itsmytimetoodream @babyoria @treatallwithkindness @karajaynetoday @talkfastromance4

#asks #anon #requests #dad!calum hood #dad!calum #dad!cal #dad!sos #calum hood #Calum Hood blurb #Calum Hood oneshot #Calum Hood imagine #Calum Hood fic #Calum Hood fan fic #Calum Hood fan fiction #Calum Hood writing #Calum Hood x reader #Calum Hood 5 seconds of summer #Calum Hood 5sos #reader insert #calum #calum blurb #calum oneshot #calum imagine #calum fic #calum fan fic #calum fan fiction #calum x reader #calum 5 seconds of summer #calum 5sos #The Hood Family Adventures

[hoodharlow]

Drunken Showers

AN: So the idea was requested at the very start of quarantine. Anon, hopefully you're still here. If not I'm sorry I didn't get to you sooner. Fun fact the idea for this was the first piece I had planned for El Novio. 

Requested?: Yes, "hi! your writing has been one of the only things keeping me sane during this quarentine. I love it all hehe. Could you do something about your friends not liking cal at first because he a big celebrity and they have like read bad stuff about him online. So you stand up for him and then when they meet him they love him. If you don't want to write it that's totally fine!"

Warnings: mentions of smut, mentions of past toxic relationships

Word count: 3.6k words

Calum watched Damian walk by the kitchen for the fifth time from where he was sitting at the kitchen island. He stood in the walkaway looking at the cookies Claudia had decorated, but soon ran  outside again. She was too busy decorating cookies to notice the six year old. 

Calum and Claudia somehow ended up watching Damian while her family ran errands. Junior had come to drop off some tables, and Damian insisted on staying because he wanted to play with Duke and Panchito, Danny's dog. 

”Why isn’t Mali here?” Damian asked Calum. He pulled at the stool next to him and sat down. 

“She lives in London,” Calum said. He pulled out his phone. ”I'm going to text her and see if she can talk. Yeah?”

Damian nodded excitedly. He hopped off his stool and climbed onto Calum's lap, watching Calum text Mali. She responded seconds later with a smiley face, so Calum called her.

He let Damian hold his phone while Mali connected and reached over the tray of cookies he was eyeing earlier. He looked up and locked eyes with Claudia, earning a glare from her. Still he smiled at her as she rolled her eyes and went back to decorating cupcakes. Calum split the cookie and gave half to Damian.

”Hello Damian, how are you?” Mali said seconds later. 

The smile on Damian’s face grew bigger when he saw her through the phone screen. He dove into conversation with her. Summarising everything since Christmas. He told her that his lita and lito were planning babyshower for Medelyn and Danny because of the baby they were having. He went on about the brincolin Diego rented, and how he likes jumping and doing flips. He flipped the camera and showed her Claudia. She gave her a small wave and went back to the cupcakes. 

About fifteen minutes passed and Damian decided he was bored and wanted to go play with Duke and Panchito. He handed the phone back to Calum and slid off his lap. 

”Bye, tío Cal,” He said running to the backyard. 

Claudia's eyes widened at hearing Damian call Calum tío. Never in a million years did she think she was going to ever hear 'tío Cal' come out of his mouth. Though Calum was too focused on the screenshot he took while facetiming Mali to notice what the boy said. 

”Can I use your phone?” He asked Claudia.

”Sure.” 

Before she could get her phone, she felt Calum's hand on her back pocket, and he pulled it out. He held the phone for her to put her passcode. She typed 0-1-2-5 and pushed it back down. 

Calum wrapped an arm around her waist as he pulled up Instagram. He looked for Felix and scrolled through his profile until he found a good picture of his left arm that was covered in tattoos. Calum put his phone next to hers and compared.

”That's his arm.” He stated.

Claudia leaned over and squinted. The screenshot he had taken was a bit blurry, but Felix' tattoos were very distinguishable.

 ”You can't really tell,” she began, remembering what Felix had told her. Him and Mali were casually going out but if things got serious between them they were telling Calum. ”Who knows who it is.”

Calum looked up and gave her a pensive look, unsure if she knew more than she said. 

”You're probably right.” He locked his phone and handed Claudia hers. His hand hovered over the cookie tray, wiggling his fingers as he decided which cookie to get.

”Grab another cookie and I'll call Ashton myself to tell him that y'all need a new bass player.” She warned him.

”Better my hand than my heart, Claudia.” He said kissing her temple.

”I hate you,” she said playfully. 

”Not what you said last night after you—”

”Here,” she shoved a cookie in his hand, ”ya vete.”

Her cheeks reddened, remembering what they were doing in the back of Diego’s truck when they were at the drive-in last night. 

”You’re lucky those Roger Corman films are full of actresses who scream all exaggerated because people would have heard you instead,” he whispered in her ear. 

She cleared her throat and went back to decorating the cupcakes. She slowly piped out little succulents with buttercream onto a small piece of wax paper before she transferred them on to the actual cupcakes. Her job was to make dozens of cookies, mini tarts, mini cheesecakes, and brownie cups. Fortunately, Marlene was making the gelatinas, arroz con leche cups and the candy goodie bags.

Duke and Panchito's growls sounded in the backyard. Calum quickly stood up and went outside. He scooped Duke in his arm and held Panchito's collar. 

A guy walked in the yard holding two trays covered in aluminum foil. Calum instantly recognised him. It was Claudia's ex. He knew he was going to meet him today. Just not this soon nor alone. Well, not really alone Damian was behind him, holding the frisbee.

He reached for Panchito's leash  that was on the table with other toys and clipped it to his harness. ”I'm going to put them in the garage.” Calum told Damian. ”Could you get Claudia?”

”Okay, tío.” Damian nodded. He left the frisbee on the table and went inside.

Without another word, Calum went to the garage. He was placing the dogs in their respective kennels when he heard the garage door close. Damian awkwardly stood in front of the door.

”Hi,” he said. 

”Hi.”

”Can you make me a grilled cheese, please?” He asked, looking down at his untied shoes and then back up at Calum.

”Yeah. Lead the way.” 

They made their way to the kitchen and Damian helped Calum get ‘the good cheese tía Claudia uses.’ He sat in front of the stool and watched Calum build his sandwich. 

Calum looked over to the yard where Claudia was still talking to Paco. She had the most serious face he'd ever seen on her. Her eyes were expressionless and unreadable, the little glint she had was gone. Her ever present smile flattened into a tight line.

”I don't like him. He doesn't like playing with me and Diego and Paloma.” Damian said as he poked his straw into his juice box. He took a sip and looked over to Claudia. ”She always looks sad when he's here.”

Calum hummed and flipped their sandwiches. He grabbed two plates from the drying rack and placed their sandwiches on them. He cut them diagonally and slid a plate to Damian. 

Claudia came in and slammed the sliding door shut. She walked past them to the living room where her dad stores the good alcohol and brought it back to the kitchen. Damian and Calum watched as she poured herself a tall glass of tequila. 

”Everything okay?” Calum asked her.

Claudia held up her finger to him and in one huge gulp she downed the tequila. 

”Just peachy.”

***

This was the most drunk Calum had seen Claudia.

He held onto Claudia so she wouldn't fall off his lap as she did her shot with her cousins. Even in her drunk state she knew to cover his face when her cousins recorded themselves taking shots. She wore one of his flannels over her dress, so the sleeves were big enough for her to shield his face.

”Mede this one's for you, mamas.” Claudia stood up and shouted across the yard where she was with Danny and their friends. She held the shot glass and tossed the vodka back. She turned to her cousins and cheered. 

She reached for the bottle, but Calum was quicker and moved it out of her reach.

”No more vodka for you.”

”You're no fun.” She pouted. She poked his cheeks, “Be fun.”

”You guys would make such cute babies.” One of her cousins gasped. She pulled out her phone from her bag. ”Like fucking deadass, I have an app that morphs your faces and shows you your babies. I did it to see how my babies would look with Jaden Smith.”

With that her cousin went on talking about her love for Jaden since the Karate Kid came out. Claudia leaned against Calum's chest and listened to her. Minutes later Calum felt her breathing change, she had fallen asleep. He cursed to himself, knowing she was not going to like getting woken up.

”Claudia,” he nudged her. She huffed and nuzzled herself more into her chest. ”Let's get you to bed. Yeah?”

Claudia nodded and wobbled a bit, but Calum was quick to catch her. He motioned Diego that he was going to take her to her room, and Diego nodded, going back to talking to his compadres and brothers.

Calum guided Claudia to the kitchen. He sat her on a stool and poured her a glass of water. 

”Drink this.” He said, handing her the glass.

”This is a lot of vodka.” she gasped, amazed at the large glass. She took a long sip, downing the whole thing. She set the glass next to her. ”This vodka is so good. It's so good and smooth. Where did you get it?”

”From the Brita filter.”

”From the Brita filter,” she repeated to herself. 

”Let's go upstairs.”

”Cal, my whole family is here. I can't have them hear you fuck me.”

”That's— Where did you get that?” He asked her as she sipped her cantarito. ”I said no more drinking.”

”Nu-uh you said 'no more vodka for you,' this is tech-weela and Squirt,” she said matter of factly. Then she burst into a fit of giggles. ”Remembered when you made me squirt on Valentine's Day. I had fun that day. Thank you for taking me to Reptile Park. I liked seeing all the koalas.”

”Your welcome. Let's get you to bed.”

”Okay.” She obliged. 

Calum guided her up the steps and held onto her so she wouldn't miss a step. He reached in his pocket and unlocked her room, walking them in and closing the door behind them. He turned on the lights and sat her on the bed. He helped her out of her tall heels and set them back on the box she had on her desk chair. 

Claudia reached for his belt and unbuckled it. 

”No.” Calum said sternly, pushing her hands away. 

”Please,” she pouted. She sat back and spread her legs open to him. ”I'm not even wearing panties. You have easy access.” 

”Fucks sake,” he mumbled. He went to her underwear drawer and grabbed the first pair and slipped them on her. He rolled her onto her side. ”Get some sleep.”

”Can you stay for a little bit?” 

”Fine, but no funny business.”

Claudia nodded eagerly and made some space for him. She patted the mattress, so he kicked off his shoes and laid next to her. She pressed her whole body on his and wrapped her arms around his stomach.

”Cal?”

”Yes.”

”I'm hungry. I haven't eaten since breakfast.”

”Of course you haven't.” He said to himself. 

He waited a few minutes until she was fast asleep. He slowly lifted her arm off him and slid out of her bed, placing a pillow where he was. He twisted her hair as best he could into a braid and tied the ends of her hair. He set a timer on her phone to wake her up in an hour or her sleep schedule was going to go off the rails. Then he made his way back down and went to the taco line so Claudia had something to eat when she woke up. 

Calum was responding to a text Michael sent him about the change of plans for an upcoming event they had when he felt someone behind him.

Claudia's ex.

”We didn't get to greet each other earlier. I'm Francisco, but everyone calls me Paco.” He said, holding his hand out to him.

Calum shook his hand.

”Calum.” he said curtly.

”This must be weird. You being Claudia's new boyfriend and me being her ex.” 

”It's not awkward unless someone makes it awkward.” Calum said. 

It was his turn to order and asked for five asada, five lengua and five tripa. Paco ordered some in Spanish and laughed at something the taquero made.

Calum asked the lady putting the onions and cilantro if she could put it on a separate thing. She nodded and grabbed an extra piece of aluminum foil and placed it on top of the tacos. She pointed off to the other table that there's salsa containers of guacamole, three kinds of green salsa and red salsa along with three vitroleros of agua frescas.

He was pouring himself a cup of agua de jamaica when Paco approached him. 

”Can I give you some advice?” He asked Calum. Not waiting for his response, he dove in. ”Get out while you can. Claudia's great and all, but it's not worth it. You're famous. You have loads of experienced girls to choose from. Don't settle for Claudia. Because next thing you know three years pass, and all she's willing to do is suck your dick. Danny said you've been together for almost a year—”

”I'm going to stop you there.” Calum cut him off. ”I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about what happened between you and Claudia, or rather the lack of it, as you implied.”

”Look man, I'm just tryna give you advice.”

”I wasn't asking for it. But what I am going to ask you is not to disrespect her in my presence.”

Calum took the plates and made his way back to the kitchen. He stored them in the fridge and pulled out his phone, finishing his response to Michael. He sipped his drink when a group of girls sat around him. They were Claudia's friends. He sighed remembering overhearing the redhead tell Claudia she didn’t approve of him because he was famous and didn’t want her to get hurt. But Claudia quickly shut her up and told her that she wasn’t looking for approval and that she didn’t care what they thought because she was in a good place with him.

”Now that you're alone, we want to have a little talk with you,” the redhead of the group said. 

There were four of them. They wore similar outfits: black jeans, black top and a denim jacket. They also carried matching Smirnoff lemonades, taking sips at the same time. 

”Mikayla, shut up.” one of them rolled her eyes at the red head. ”Look obviously, we weren't the nicest nor the most welcoming when Claudia introduced us. Like the breakup was hard on our friend group. When Claudia told us she was seeing someone, we judged you without even knowing you. Then we saw how you were around her. You literally took care of her drunk ass and stuff. So like overall we just want to apologize.”

”Oh,” it was all Calum could say. He nodded and took a sip of his drink. 

”Well, we're gonna go back out. If you wanna hang or whatever you know where to find us.”

They all got up and walked back to the rest of the group. He sighed and read some emails. A few minutes later someone else walked into the room. 

”Calum,” Diego called him, making him look up. ”Can we talk?”

”Um, yeah…” 

'Everyone is in a chatty mood,' he thought to himself.

”I overheard your talk with Paco, and I wanted to thank you for defending mi niña. No one wants to hear someone disrespect their daughter, especially by someone they once considered family.” Diego said. ”You're a good man, Calum.” 

”Thank you, Mr. Santos.”

”Diego,” he corrected Calum. 

”Right, Diego… um I'm sorry that you had to hear him talk about Claudia like that. No one deserves to hear that about their daughter, especially if she's as amazing as Claudia.”

Before Diego could say something, Paloma struggled with opening the sliding door, so he got up and opened it for her.

”Grandpa, Medelyn is opening the presents.” Paloma said excitedly. She looked over to Calum and shyly looked away. 

Diego motioned him to follow. He took a seat where Claudia's family was. Damian went up to him and sat on his lap to see Medelyn and Danny. He held the present bags while she pulled out clothes, bibs, stuffed animals, everything and other accessories. After opening them, they moved onto the bog boxes. The first few were boxes of diapers and wipes. 

”Don't rip the paper, I like it.” Medelyn told Danny. He carefully removed the tape and removed it from the box, revealing a stroller. It was the stroller Danny told Claudia he was saving up for. 

Calum was with Claudia when she was looking at the prices. She told him how she wanted to buy it for them, but since she turned into her grad school applications, she couldn't afford it.

”Cal, we can't accept this,” Medelyn said.

”Wasn't me,” Calum quickly said.

”You forgot to cover your name.” She pointed at the shipping label.

”Claudia used my address.” He lied. ”She said something about people in her street having their packages stolen.”

”Oh, that's so sweet of her.”

*** 

Calum lost track of Claudia when he got back from carrying a sleeping Damian in Junior’s car. An hour later she wandered back down as if she didn’t drink a bar and a half. The last time he saw her, she was in the yard talking to some of her friends while she ate the tacos he got for her. Now he spotted an angry Medelyn entering Claudia’s room, so he followed her.

“Let me get this straight. Your best friend tried to force Claudia to do something she wasn’t comfortable nor ready for, resulting in him cheating. And your initial response to that was ‘well maybe if you put out then he wouldn't have cheated.’” Calum heard Medelyn from the doorway.

“Your best mate cheated on your sister and you’re giving your sister shit?” Calum blurted out. He was livid. Claudia had only told him about the horrific shit he said to her when they broke up. The cheating was new to him. He saw Claudia's stricken face and entered the room, closing the door behind himself. 

"Cal, drop it." Claudia said softly.

"No. I've had enough of his shit." He sneered at Danny. "You let that guy drag Claudia's name through the mud. If anyone let out so much a peep about Mali, I would have shut it down because I know the kind of person my sister is. You know the kind of person Claudia is, so you know she doesn't deserve any of the shit he put her through."

Everyone stood quiet, unsure how to respond. The door opened, with Diego and Soni peaking through. 

"Why are you up here? Your friends are downstairs." Soni said. 

"We were just saying bye. Cal got a call, and he needs to be in LA in the morning. So we're leaving. Right?" Claudia asked Calum. 

"Yeah." He nodded, following along. "I'm going to get Duke."

Diego watched Calum leave and gave the three of them a skeptical look. 

"Okay. Do you want to take any leftovers?" Soni asked Claudia.

"Sure." She smiled and with that her parents left them. 

"Claudia—"

"I don't wanna hear it Danny." she sighed. "Just go." 

He  left without another word. 

"This is all my fault. I shouldn't have said anything about the stroller." Medelyn began to ramble. "I should have just written you a thank note y ya."

"It's not your fault." Claudia reassured her. "This was bound to happen. I just didn't think it was going to happen now, you know. But it did. I'm sorry for ruining your babyshower."

"It was ruined the minute my parents came and plucked Melina without even saying hi to me." 

Claudia nodded, remembering how Medelyn's younger sister had come to the baby shower. She was the only member of Medelyn's family that came. Soni told Claudia that she called their mom and invited her. But the woman had declined it, saying that she only has one daughter. Then they showed up and didn't even acknowledge Medelyn. They just grabbed Melina and left.

"Are you ready?" Calum asked Claudia from the doorway. 

"Yeah." 

Calum took their bags and he went back to the car. Claudia and Medelyn made their way back down. They were in the kitchen, waiting for the leftovers Soni was packing. Calum and Claudia bid goodbye to her parents. 

Claudia turned to Medelyn. "Take care of him— well, not really… you know what I mean."

"I know. I'll text you so we can get lunch."

"Y Danny?" Soni asked.

"We already said what we needed to say to each other." Claudia told her. 

She gave her parents one last hug before joining Calum in the car. 

The car ride was silent. Claudia covered herself with Calum's jacket and curled up in a ball. She rested her head on the center console. Occasionally, Calum would run his fingers over her hair, making her sleepy. 

She woke up almost two hours later as Calum ordered In-N-Out at the drive thru a few miles from his house. He handed her their boxes and her vanilla shake, parking the car under a tree.

Uncapping the lid, Claudia dunked a fry in her shake and handed it to Duke. 

"Thank you," Claudia told Calum, once she was halfway through her cheeseburger.

"I knew you were gonna get hungry since you didn't eat much." He shrugged sipping his lemonade.

"I meant to say thank you for defending me. I didn't expect it."

"You're my girlfriend, of course I'm going to defend you. I know you, and that's why I won't tolerate anyone saying shit." 

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He leaned in and captured her lips. Claudia pushed herself up and pressed her hand on his thigh, as they deepened their kiss. 

Calum pulled away and looked down at her hand. "Claudia, you just smashed your burger on my leg." 

Taglist: @calpops @5-secondsofcolor @findingliam-o @cherryxwildflower @calumscalm @sexgodashton @another-lonely-heart @idontneedanyone @karajaynetoday @myloverboyash @spicycal

#calum hood request #calum hood one shot #calum hood imagine #calum hood blurb #calum hood fanfic #calum hood oneshot #calum hood imagines #calum hood requests #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood fan fic #calum hood fan fiction #calum hood series #El Novio series

[sour--disposition]

Hey girl!

Just seen the prompt list could you possibly do 23/24 in general with Harry?

Thanks love you lots xox

Possible content/trigger warning: experiences of a panic attack.

this is just from my (vast) experience of panic attacks and in no way am i saying that everyone experiences them like this

“Hey, look at me. Focus on me, alright?” and “I haven’t seen him/her/them smile in months”

The last few months had been hard. With university moving online, you seemed to be falling behind from day one. The workload seemed more intense than ever before, you were facing deadlines left, right and centre, and you had no idea what needed to be done and when.

You’d set yourself up on the island in Harry and Cal’s flat, trying to crack on and get through as much as possible. Your laptop was opened in front of you, books and papers were spread out haphazardly around you and 2 or 3 notebooks were piled up underneath the one you were writing in. You had a few pens slotted into your hair, headphone wires tangled around themselves by your neck, and a highlighter cap rested forgotten between your teeth.

“I feel like I haven’t seen her smile in months”, Harry sighed from his spot next to Cal on the sofa. Harry’s phone was abandoned on the cushion between the two of them, twitter and instagram long forgotten. “I don’t even know what I can do”, he stressed, letting his head flop back against the back of the sofa.

“Just be there for her, mate”, Cal said, not taking his attention away from it was he was doing on his phone. Harry opened his mouth to argue, to tell Cal he didn’t know how to do that, but shut it when he realised it was meaningless, he wasn’t listening anyway.

Harry turned his attention back to watching you. Watched as you raked your hands through your hair, untied and retied your hair a few times after pulling out of place, watched as you nibbled on your lip until it was raw.

You noticed a shadow over your set up, causing you to look up and see Harry on the opposite side of the island to you. You pulled your headphones out, putting your pen down. “Everything okay?”, you asked him.

“I should be the one asking you that”, Harry said. “You need a break, you’ve been at it for hours”, he said simply.

You shook your head, wiggling your headphones back in and picking your pen back up. You ignored the shake in your hands as you wrote and typed, the tightness in your chest when you tried to take a deep breath.

Harry pulled one of your headphones out, causing you to turn around and face him. “Harry”, you started, removing the other headphone again. “Harry, I’ve got so much do. I don’t even know how far behind I am, or what’s got a deadline or when those deadlines or whats due next or when I need-”.

Your breaths quickened, your grip around your pen looked painful, knuckles turning white as you held on for dear life to something, anything. Harry had a panicked look on his face, but you couldn’t see for the tears building up and clouding your vision.

You felt Harry take your hand in his. “Hey, look at me. Focus on me, alright?”, he said, holding your conjoined hands to his chest. “Breathe with me, it’s okay”, he soothed. He took your other hand and pulled it to rest on his cheek. “Look at me, Y/N”, he instructed gently. “Just breathe out, first. And then in”, he said, exaggerating his breaths so you could follow along with him.

After a few minutes of intense panic, your breaths began to slow down. The pins and needles that had overtaken your face and fingers had began to subside. “Thank you”, you whimpered, balling your fist into the fabric of Harry’s blue jumper, wiping the tears from your face with the other hand.

“Come on, you’re done for today”, Harry told you. He took your hand and led you to his bedroom. “What are watching?”, he asked, handing you the controller once you’d both gotten situated. You dropped your head to his shoulder, all but gluing yourself to his side.

“Ooh, what about this!”

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Tired of Feeling the Blues

The stress is a recipe for disaster, but thankfully Calum’s there to help her all through it.

This is what we call self-indulgence 101. Enjoy soft Calum. 

It is a female reader, only referred to as ‘she’. No specific race. 

Please stay safe during these uncertain times. Drop a sweet message to your favorite blogger. Reblog your favorite fic. Recommend a fic to me if you want! We need to spread some joy. If you feel so inclined and have the means, you can support me on Ko-fi. 

Enjoy my masterlist as well!

___________________________

The tension resides at the base of her skull, creeping its way up the back of her head, pulsing in her temple and right behind her eye. It beats the back of her skull on the left side of her head and the left side only. Her neck is heavy and not even the pillow beneath her neck is able to support it or alleviate the pounding. Closing her eyes hurt. Rolling onto either side hurts. It does not help with the lingering twinge of cramps in her lower back. Physically, she is falling apart. And mentally, she isn’t doing much better. The world in a panic to the pandemic and with her job now closed, she worries about bills. Thankfully right before the shutdown on her job, she had figured housing arrangements with Calum. But that didn’t stop the dizzying worry about her student loans, providing basic necessities for herself and her dog, Ace. 

The room is still dark when Calum peaks his head inside. She lays still, not fully under the sheets with Duke on her chest and Ace curled up on her side. It was a slight worry when she first moved at the end of February that Ace would be just too big of a dog around Duke with the German Shepherd abundantly clear in him. There were a couple other things, the best guess was Australian Shepherd. But the vets hadn’t been too sure and the people at the shelter couldn’t quite place it either. And though Ace did like to play rough, the moment she felt like he was getting too rowdy and called for him to cool it, he listened immediately. He was well trained and there was no doubting that. 

“Head still hurting?” Cal asks, stepping into the bedroom more. He uses his body to block the light from the hallway as he shuts the door close.

“If you have a guillotine hiding out anywhere, feel free to break it out.”

The bed dips as he settles and his hands settle onto her clothed leg not covered by the sheets. He rubs soothing circles over the black cloth. “You take something for it yet?”

She nods and it’s a fucking mistake. Immediately, it feels like needles in her neck. She groans, throwing her arm over her face. “Yeah. I did.”

Duke picks his head up and upon spotting Calum jumps up. Calum grins, petting the top of his head. “Taking care of Mamas?”

“He has great bedside manners,” she jokes. 

“It’s a little past noon. Care for lunch?” Her headache had been plaguing since the night before and she thought sleep would ease the ache. But now it was proving more stubborn that impeded her from going on their morning walk. Calum handled the dogs with ease. But he did worry the entire time about her. Part of him doesn’t want to admit that some of it was out of a panic that somehow she had contracted the disease. But a larger part of him knew that between temporarily losing her job, her period, and overall panic, that the stress wouldn’t be nice on her physical body either. 

Her reply is soft. “I’ll take leftovers.”

“I do have soup if you want. Easier to get down.”

“Hmm, I’m a chicken noodle soup kind of gal.” 

“Chicken noodle soup then.”

She can feel the bed lifting again. From her lifted arm, she watches him. “You don’t even eat meat. Why do you have chicken in this house?”

“Because you do.”

“I told you you didn’t have too,” she calls as the door starts to creak close with Calum slipping out of it. 

“It’s like a treat. A little chicken as a treat,” he winks and closes the door. 

Though it makes her feel like one of the dogs, she has to laugh. “A little chicken as a treat.” 

There’s a few moments of silence before Duke climbs off her chest. He pitters over to the door and a whine leaves his throat. Though it hurts, she stands and opens the bedroom door. The house isn’t in too bad of shape. She managed, in the time it took Calum to walk the dogs, to collect the trash bins from the curb. She washed the dishes from the late night snacking, put one load of laundry into the washer and scrubbed down the bathrooms. She had meant to sweep too but it hurt to be upright after that so she retired to the bedroom. 

Calum hears the click of paws and when he glances down there’s Duke at his feet. “What happened to Nurse Duke?”

“Missed his pops,” she returns sliding into the bar seating. Ace settles onto the couch, but keeps his attention trained onto her. 

“You could’ve stayed in the back. I was going to bring it to you.”

She doesn’t quite have the energy to respond, though she does simply wave off the comment before resting her head on her forearms. Calum stirs the soup on the stovetop for a few moments before walking over. His fingers take up the soft muscle of her shoulder. She hums as he guides two fingers up her neck, up and over the tension. It hurts just a little but it helps. The pressure combatting the pounding that seems to have taken up the whole residence of the entire left side. She knows amongst all this, the worry about her, Calum has meetings and promotion to do. She knows he’s got a million other things to juggle but he stopped his world for just five minutes for her. 

“I love you,” she sighs when his fingers run up her neck and even into her scalp. 

Calum’s laughter is a soft exhale. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not.” And it’s not that he ever thought that she was kidding. But his heart still jumps a little at the furrowed brows that face him as she lifts her head and turns. “I do love you and I would never just say that. Never. You got that?”

It was easy to just say a phrase. But it wasn’t lost on him that it was her that brought in the cans, or did the laundry, or washed the dishes. That was how she always showed her love, helping around the house, doing something to take it off his plate. “I know,” he says. It’s softly and she notices the tears pooling just slightly at his lower lashline. 

“Good,” she murmurs against his lips before pressing a soft kiss. “Don’t burn my soup being a sap though. I don’t think I have the mental capabilities to handle that.”

As their noses brush, Calum can’t help his grin. That’s his girl, forever honest. “On it.” The kiss is brief, yet again. His fingers are still kneading at her neck and though it hurts when he pulls away, she knows it’s better than burnt soup. She drops her head on her neck, eyes closed again. When is the pain going to end? When is she going to find relief? From everything really and not just the headache. She needs relief from debt, from social distancing, from panic. 

Calum can only watch as she carries herself to the couch. Wrapped in one of his hoodies, she curls herself around Ace. He’d offer sitting outside with him but the sun’s not going to help her headache. There’s almost nothing to do but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do whatever he can. With the soup warmed and in a bowl, he carefully carries it over to her. Her groan is heavy and drawn out as she sits up. “Yeah, just decapitate me please.”

“I’m sorry, love. Eat, try to sleep, okay?”

“Have you eaten?”

“Yes. Don’t worry about me right now, okay? Cuddle Ace. They look so sad that Mamas is not in tip top condition.”

The lip roll is exaggerated, pulling out and down. Calum kisses her forehead, gently cupping the back of her head with the action. His breath is a whisp against her skin as he whispers something. She doesn’t even catch it, not if it were English or Maori. He turns out the lights in the living room for her and soon he’s gone. Not without draping a blanket around her shoulders. She assumes another meeting. He’s taken to sitting outside during those calls. Maybe it’s so she’s not interrupting with the cleaning and that noise and he’s not in the way.

She has every intent to wash the dishes from her quick lunch. But once the soup is settled and she’s curled up again with Ace, it’s just so much easier to sleep. The bowl rests on the coffee table and she can’t find it within herself to get up. And she thinks it’ll be a quick nap too, by the time she gets up, Calum will still be on his conference call. It’s just a quick nap that wraps her up. 

Until she finally blinks awake and the living is dark. The kitchen light is one still but there’s no sun peeking in from the blinds and she swears she couldn’t have slept the whole day away. When she pushes up, there’s less pounding in her head but a manageable dull ache. Her bleary eyes try to find the clock in the room to let her know what time it is but it’s much too far. She stands, eyes squinting against the light of the kitchen. It’s just about three and she spins, not sure if it’s three pm or three am. But there’s no way Calum would’ve just left her on the couch. 

The blinds are drawn up and the curtains closed. When she pulls them apart, the sun comes blaring through. Her racing heart finally settles. “Thank fuck,” she grumbles. 

“Ah, she lives,” Calum teases, peering into the living with a basket on his hip. Laundry. Not the load she started. 

“It was dark and I thought I slept the entire day away.”

“No, just a few hours.”

She remembers the dishes, throwing a quick glance down to the coffee table. The bowl and spoon are gone. As her eyes scan, the pot and everything sit in the drying rack. “I can fold laundry,” she offers. 

“It’s the last load.” And it’s meant to deter her, but she wiggles her fingers, stepping out from the couch. Calum shakes his head. “I got it.”

“I was supposed to clean my dishes and I didn’t. Let me, please?”

“How’s your head?” He knows as she walks closer that she’ll fight tooth and nail about making up for the dishes. But it’s not a big deal. She continues on and Calum shuffles into the bedroom to hide the basket from her. “Hey, no, you’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

“Give me the basket and no one gets hurt Hood.”

“It’s the last load, baby. Really, it’s okay.”

“You fixed me lunch and cleaned my dishes. Just give me the basket.”

“You’re not feeling well, so of course I did all that.” 

She stands toe to toe with him, the basket behind his back pinned between him and their shared dresser. “Basket, Hood.”

“You can use my last name all you want, love. I’m not giving up this fucking basket.”

This happens all the time with them. And she should’ve learned to give up the good fight a long time ago, but giving in was not in her nature. So they stand there, staring, sharing breaths. But neither one of them budges. Calum doesn’t give in and let her take the basket and she doesn’t walk away. 

“I have to pee but I’m not walking away,” she utters. The second she goes to pee, it’s over. Calum will start folding. 

“Don’t burst your bladder.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Calum watches her, the way her leg starts to shake and he knows she’ll wait this out. There’s no sense in making her prove that point any further either. “Go pee, Christ! I’ll let you help, alright?” She sticks her tongue out, before racing to the bathroom. Calum hollers as she goes, “That’s not a victory for either one of us though!”

“Gray sock,” Cal calls before tossing the sock in her direction. It arches and lands in her waiting hands. To her left are all the unpaired socks. As she finds the matches, she rolls them together and places them into a pile to the right of her. The living room is scattered with clothes. Piles of underwear, separated by owner, and further separated from there, t-shirts rest on the top of the coffee table, alongside the bath towels. 

“Who’s shirt?” she asks, wiping the cotton material out so she can get a better look at it. 

“Merch,” Calum explains, holding his hand out for it. It takes more effort to toss, so it doesn’t land on their piles incorrectly. He folds it, like she taught him, hooking his pinkies to flip the sleeves back behind. It folds in half once and he folds it half again, creating thirds so that the screen print of the top of the faces peak out. The same thing that graces the cover of the album. 

Softly behind the quiet sounds of the dogs clicking about, is the hum of the latest binge that’s already been long forgotten. They’ll restart it again later on when they’re better focused. Calum sits with his laptop open and facing him. Notes for another meeting and he’s bored already just looking at the text. “Where’s the pile for kitchen towels?’ she asks. 

Calum, with his eyes still locked on the screen, thinks for a moment. “There’s no pile.”

“You have more space than I do.”

That’s all he needs before he tears his gaze away and catches the towel floating through the air. “What do you want for dinner? And you can’t say whatever is fine.”

In the midst of folding a bath towel, she huffs. “I’m fine with anything.”

He knew she’d find a loophole. She’d find a way to shove off the responsibility onto him. “Burgers?” he suggests, thinking of the patties that might’ve been lingering in the freezer. Her only response is a nod accompanied by a soft sound of agreement. 

It’s back to the notes, back to barely listening to the voices on the TV. When all the clothes are folded and tucked away, Calum pulls her onto the couch, into his chest, arms winding around her body. His fingers gently cradle her head. “Any more pain?”

“Just a little pressure.”

His heart is beating against her ears, the steady beat comforting as she burrows into his chest. All it would take to curl up inside the cavity, tuck herself away from everything. Though she can’t physically shrink herself, she happily accepts the soft brush of his fingers over her scalp. “Tomorrow we can make it a mile and a half walk, since you missed out today.”

“You are trying to kill me.” The sentence is punctuated by a kiss to his jawline. 

“Ace got scared by a bush today,” Calum relays with a soft laugh. “Some birds were in it and when they flew off, it shook the bush. He got a little freaked. I guess he was too occupied by the couple walking their dogs on the other side of the street.”

“He’s big but he’s a baby. Sounds like someone else I know.” The jest isn’t lost on Calum but he lets it slide for the moment being, taking in the feeling of her tracing patterns on his chest with her fingers. 

#calum hood #calum hood blurb #calum hood fic #calum hood fanfic #calum hood imagine #calum hood x reader #calum hood x reader insert #calum 5sos #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer fanfic #h writes #michael clifford #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #calum hood fluff

[volleyball-dontknowher]

hsksjsjss can i get an emergency request? i had a super shitty week and i just kinda wanna get sucked into the earth for a while. can i have some loving kenma fluff, like he's comforting his s/o who's SUPER insecure about how they look and think they're not pretty enough for him? (you can include some nsfw too, 'cause who isn't horny when they're sad?)

Hello lovey!! I am so so so so so sorry to hear you have had a bad week, I hope that things get better for you, and if you need someone to talk to or someone to send you too many pictures of their dog I am here for you any time!! I did include a couple of things I do when I get insecure and I hope that you like it <3 and always know I love you and I think you are so beautiful and absolutely sexy as shit (in a non-harrassing way, I love you) 

Insecure 

Words: 2.1k 

Warnings: Some NSFW and fluff

You knew that Kenma had an internet following, and a passionate one at that, you knew that he had millions of fans who would swoon over his every action and you had to know that because well, he was your boyfriend

What you didn’t know was that other people would make fun of the things that you were already insecure about 

You hated how you looked and couldn’t stand the thought that others did too, you found yourself obsessing about your appearance and trying all of the dumb things to make you feel prettier even though you knew that none of it would work

Most days you could get over it and brush it aside for the sake of your mental health as well as the sake of your relationship, but this week had been so stressful and so shitty that everything had been building on top of each other causing even looking in the mirror to be agony

You had received tons of comments pointing out how your nose wasn’t right for your face and how your smile was so uneven that it made you look like a Disney villain and you couldn't help but take it to heart because that’s what you thought about yourself anyway and these strangers were just telling you facts and helping you feel as though you were useless

You knew that Kenma was going to be working late tonight, it was a launch day and he always tried to get everything done before leaving the office even though he never liked to work later than he had to away from home, but this was good for you, that meant you didn’t have to change or try to look happy about the things that were secretly crushing your insides 

You spent the day laying in bed watching TV and scrolling through your social media’s as you compare yourself to the pretty girls that seemed to appear everywhere without any flaws, you ended up getting yourself more upset than before, as you let the tears run down your face and decided to take a break from your phone and just focus on the episode of Criminal minds that was on

This was good for you because well there wasn’t ever anyone crazy attractive on there and you were more focused on trying to solve the case before the detectives did 

You ended up just sitting there mindlessly for several episodes before you heard the door slam shut, you couldn't help but be paranoid as you jolted upright in bed, worried that someone was now breaking into your house, before you had time to react you heard Kenma’s voice call out your name, not once but three times in a panic looking for you 

You cal his name back quietly in hopes that he wouldn’t come and find you, you were wrong, of so wrong, Kenma came into the bedroom immediately and the moment he saw you his heart dropped, you were sitting there alone with tear stains down your face

This was the last thing that he ever expected to come home to and he knew that he had to say something and figure this out with you 

“Hey,” he started, looking at you with but worry, as he dropped his bag and climbed into bed with you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he rubbed up and down your arms and placing a quick kiss to your temples, “what’s wrong love?” he whispered, lips pressed against your hair, he was trying not to panic, but seeing you so upset makes everything in him worried

You didn’t know how to answer him, opening and closing your mouth several times in an attempt to try and get the words out, instead, your eyes started welling up again instead, you couldn't help but start crying again

Kenma had no idea what was wrong and didn’t want to upset you more, “Y/N, I love you, and I know we can get through this together. You are so kind, and intelligent, and sweet, and loving and beautiful, I love you more than anything.” he said, which felt uncharacteristically unlike him, but everything he said was the truth, he really did love you with everything he had

Instead of calming you down it only made you cry harder, “I’m not pretty,” you choked out between sobs

Kenma had never disagreed with anything more in his entire life, “Y/n, how could you say that?” he questioned, pulling you closer to him

“I’m ugly, my face, my body, my weight, my everything, it’s ugly,” you cried out. This time Kenma was the one opening and closing his mouth, he had no idea why or how you felt this way and he just wanted to make you feel better and that didn’t work, he couldn’t imagine what made you feel this way, “I’m fat and I hate my face and I don’t know why you are with someone that is as ugly as me,” you continued on your tangent, unable to stop yourself 

This was the last straw, Kena pushed you down onto the bed and laid on top of you, pinning you down with his hips, “Y/n, I am with you because I love you, because I think you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever set my eyes on. If you could only see yourself through my eyes then you’d see nothing but beauty and you would find yourself too gorgeous for me. I can’t imagine looking so beautiful and not seeing it, you are stunning Y/n and I want you to know that when I call you pretty I mean it with everything in my heart. You know me, and you know that I don’t lie, there’s no reason to and I could never exaggerate your beauty because there is just so much of it.” he says, never breaking eye contact with you. When he is done, he leans down and kisses your forehead, “You’re beautiful here,” then he kisses your temple, “you’re beautiful here too” then he kisses your nose, “you’re beautiful here too,” he murmurs as he goes to do the same to each of your cheeks

“Stoooop Kenma,” you try pushing him off of you but he just smacks your hands away

“Y/n, you are beautiful everywhere and if you don’t see if then I am going to show it to you,” he gives you a mischievous little smile before kissing your lips lightly and moving down to kiss your jaw and your neck, “You are gorgeous.” “You are stunning.” “I love you.” He continues as he kisses down your body, his hands roaming up your shirt as he slowly pulls it off of you

His lips make contact with one breast, then the other, gently licking and sucking on the delicate flesh, making you moan out his name

Kenma had the tiniest smile on his face as he continued kissing down your sensitive skin as he praised every part of your body, telling you all of the things he loves about you 

When he reached your waistband you couldn’t help but shiver as he left open mouth kisses on your hips as his cold fingers slipped down inside the elastic and slowly pulled them off of you, his eyes glancing back up at you, pupils blown wide as he continued kissing down your hips and stopped right before your panties, he toyed with the fabric before looking up at you and sliding them off

“Fuck” he panted as he saw how exposed you are, “beautiful” 

He began kissing down your hips and placing gentle little bites along your thighs, scattering little marks as his eyes stayed focused upon you, never once breaking eye contact 

His head slowly shifted down between your legs as he licked one slow stripe up your throbbing core

You let out a breathy moan as your fingers went to his hair and pulled gently 

“Fuck, you’re so fuck,” he moaned before going back to licking your dripping core, after a few long strokes his tongue wrapped around your clit and began flicking it quickly as his fingers began stroking your heated core before pushing two completely inside of you and curling them perfectly to hit the best spots inside of you 

A whiny moan left your lips as you tried to raise your hips closer to Kenma but he wasn’t having it, he pushed your hips right back down, “don’t shy away from me, let me enjoy you,” he moaned before pulling his fingers out and replacing them with his tongue, his arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling you closer

You couldn’t help but let out a long needy moan as his tongue pulsed in and out of you, licking up all of your wetness as his fingers went to your clit and began expertly rubbing circles into it 

Your hands were tugging Kenma’s hair as he switched back and forth from long deep licks to quick and shallow ones, as he held you close to his face enjoying your juices smearing down his face

 Quickly your orgasm approached as Kenma replaced his tongue with his fingers and began driving three into your desperate hole as his mouth and nose pushed into your desperate clit, giving it the stimulation you needed as he hummed lightly, sending vibrations straight to your clit 

You were a moaning mess at this point and couldn’t help but whine as he perfectly hit all of the spots inside of you as you felt yourself come undone beneath him, moaning his name as he continued to lick and suck you clean 

When he was finished licking every part of you clean he slowly pulled back up your panties before laying down next to you 

“I love you,” he whispered before pulling you on top of him, “every single part of you,” he starts, looking straight into your eyes, “you are my dream, when I would dream at night I always imagined a girl just like you, I want nothing else, you are perfect,” he sighed before kissing the top of your head

You couldn’t help but start tearing up at his kind words, “Kenma-” you started

“Shh, no but’s no if’s nothing, you are gorgeous, and I love you,” he coos as he rubs your hair, “if you ever think anything like that again, tell me, right away, okay baby, I’m gonna make you see just how beautiful you are.” he smiles before cupping your cheek in his hand and placing a quick kiss on your lips

You lay there for a while before he nudges you off of him and starts rummaging through your clothes 

He pulls out an outfit for you and smiles weakly at you, “you tried this on and loved it, now you should wear it out to dinner,” he stated, smiling even bigger

You instinctively shook your head no, “Kenma, I can’t wear that out,” you stammer

“Why not?” he questions, “It looks amazing on you.” 

“Kenma bab-”

“Kenma what?” he sasses you, “when you tried it on you were glowing, now put it on and let’s go get Thai, okay?” he smiled at you

You couldn’t help but feel giddy putting the outfit on, you secretly did love how it looked on you, you just got nervous about what others would think about you in it but every time you would glance around nervously at dinner Kenma grabbed your hand and said one word, “beautiful” 

He even went as far as taking cute pictures of you for your Instagram and smiling at you, telling you how good you looked after every single one, not only did Kenma make you feel amazing, but he also took the most gorgeous pictures of you that you’ve ever seen, he kept smiling at you and telling you his favorite part of each picture as he scrolled, one he would complement your smile and the next he would complement your beautiful eyes, then your gorgeous pose and when you got blushy he just shrugged and sent you the pictures telling you that he said what he meant and that you really are that pretty 

He even let the two of you get some cuteeee pictures together which is rare for Kenma because he prefers to not take pictures at all, but you two got the best pictures together and it ended up being both of your new screensavers, and every time you saw Kenma open his phone to a picture of you he always gave it a little smile and a pause before going on to do whatever it was he needed his phone for

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