#however sometimes i sip too enthusiastically and get a faceful of damp leaves | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tennessoui · 3 years

Note

Please give me the TA scene where Vos takes Obi-Wan to a bar to get drunk and forget about Anakin and pick up some hotties but oh no Anakin is there and Obi-Wan is a little tipsy and doesn’t want to be rude so he goes to say hi. Then for the rest of the night when he tries to go Anakin pulls him back into conversation because he doesn’t want Obi-Wan going home with someone else

yes!!!!!! TIS THE SEASON (halloween)

(2.3k)(the first TA obi-wan snippet!!)

The thing about Quinlan that Obi-Wan hates the most is that his friend is the only person in the entire world that can out-stubborn him. That’s usually not a problem. But sometimes it is. Sometimes it results in Quinlan forcing Obi-Wan into doing something he’d rather not do.

All those people that say peer pressure isn’t really real have never met Quinlan Vos.

Obi-Wan sort of wishes he’d never met Quinlan Vos when the man shows up at his door on Friday evening carrying three different bundles of clothing.

“Because I’m nice, you get to choose what you want to be for Halloween,” Quinlan announces, laying out the options on Obi-Wan’s coffee table.

“Drunk and alone in my apartment,” Obi-Wan says. “That’s an option, right?”

“Just for that, I’m taking Indiana Jones off the table,” Quinlan replies, not sounding sorry about it at all. “I’ll be that one. I think I could make the whip look hot as hell.”

Obi-Wan crosses his arms and peers at the costumes. “Sexy nurse or sexy….Red Riding Hood? I’m not wearing that. I doubt it would even fit me.”

“Bullshit, you have a very dainty waist, Obi. But hurry up and choose because we’re going to be late.”

“We’re going tonight?” Obi-Wan splutters. “It’s not even Halloween!”

“It’s the Halloweekend, Obi-Wan. It’s like you’ve forgotten all of our sophomore year.”

Obi-Wan’s tried to block most of it out, that’s true. The parts he remembers, at least. “I think we’re a bit too old for Halloweekend, Quin,” he protests, staring down at the costumes. “And I--”

“Have been obsessing over this so-called hottest professor in existence, yes, I know.” Quinlan holds up his hand when Obi-Wan starts to disagree. “No, you know I’m right. I don’t want to hear your excuses. I’ve never heard you casually talk about someone so much and I’ve been there for all of your co-ed crushes. So what we’re going to do tonight is go and get your hot professor fucked out of your head, and the best way to do that is either sexy nurse or sexy Red Riding Hood. So.”

“I do not want this,” Obi-Wan reiterates slowly. “I very much am not aboard this plan.”

“Don’t make me invoke the BFFFOC, Obi,” Quinlan threatens.

The BFFFOC, or Best Friend Forever Failsafe Override Code, was thought up between them one night their first year of college. If ever one of them was going down a path that the other deemed unwise, they had the right to invoke the override and talk some sense into them.

“I don’t think me not wanting to dress in a slutty and offensive nurse outfit counts,” Obi-Wan protests loudly.

“It’s not about the costume, Obi, and you know it. It’s about this professor. You know you need to get over him. So get under someone else. I’d offer, but that would be in complete violating of--”

“BFFNBTBT,” Obi-Wan finishes with him, rolling his eyes. “Yes, I recall.”

That one, Best Friends Forever No Below The Belt Touching had been resurrected after a very unfortunate one night stand. The grounds for that code are some of the ones Obi-Wan is still trying to forget.

“Fine,” he snaps and hates himself for it. One day he’ll learn how to say no to Quinlan. “But I’m going with Red Riding Hood.”

“I thought you would!” his friend cheers. “The cape’s long enough to cover more of your upper thighs and you’re a bit of a prude.”

Obi-Wan snatches up the packaged costume from the table. “Fuck off,” he says, quite pleasantly in his opinion. “And I’m not paying you back for this.”

“You should shave,” Quinlan tells him as he turns towards his bedroom. “Really commit to the role!”

Perhaps tonight Obi-Wan will strangle Quinlan with his own length of Indiana Jones whip. The thought puts a smile on his face.

In the end, Obi-Wan does end up shaving. It’s not something he does often, but he’d looked at the costume. The dress doesn’t even come down to his fingertips. The hooded red cape somehow just a little bit longer.

And he thinks making Quinlan wait for thirty minutes while Obi-Wan gets ready is the very least of what he deserves.

Dragging out the process, however, doesn’t magically give Quinlan enough time to realize how stupid this is, because when Obi-Wan peers around the edge of his door, Quin’s on the couch in full Indiana Jones costume regalia, flicking through his phone.

“I look like a pervert’s idea about what Swedish barmaids looked like in the 18th century,” Obi-Wan complains, trying to flatten the hem of the flared out dress as he regretfully leaves the safety of his bedroom.

“That’s what the hood’s for,” Quinlan says sagely, looking up from his phone to take in Obi-Wan. “What, no makeup?”

“I need you to know that my biggest regret in my entire life will always be that I sat next to you on our first day of chem,” Obi-Wan tells him placidly, adjusting the cape around his bare shoulders. He hates to admit it, but the feeling of the inner fabric of the hood feels good against his skin. Soft.

“Oh, don’t say that, Obi, I’m sorry. You’re pretty without makeup.”

“I’m about to throw a punch,” he warns.

Quinlan grins and slings an arm around him. “Well then, looks like it’s time to go.”

----

They slide into two seats at the very crowded bar only thirty or so minutes later. Everyone around them is wearing some sort of costume, some so wild or revealing that Obi-Wan doesn’t even necessarily feel bad about the amount of skin he’s showing off.

Someone walks by in a golden speedo and Obi-Wan takes a gulp of his drink. At least this place does some heavy pours.

Quinlan leans into his ear. “See anyone?” he yells of the din of loud music and voices.

“I see a lot of people,” Obi-Wan reports back immediately.

“One more tongue-in-cheek response out of you, and I’ll make you do tequila shots, young man!”

Obi-Wan narrows his eyes, but then a girl in a french maid costume smiles at him flirtily from across the bar. His first thought is that he likes Professor Skywalker’s smile a lot better. Then he wonders about what Professor Skywalker’s doing tonight, if he likes Halloween. If he’s dressed up. If he’s alone.

“I would like two tequila shots,” he tells the bartender when she passes them.

“Obi-Wan, you shouldn’t have!” Quinlan tosses his arm around his shoulder and pulls him in for an awkward, but enthusiastic hug when the shots arrive.

“They’re both for me,” he responds. “You can choke.”

“You wound me so precisely,” Quinlan shakes his head, and flags down a bartender to order his own. Obi-Wan decides to ignore him, licking at the back of his hand quickly before sprinkling the salt onto the damp skin.

The first shot goes down easily, but he doesn’t even wait ten seconds before he’s brought his hand back to his mouth for another lick.

Halfway through, he looks up at the feeling of eyes staring at him. He follows his own instincts until his eyes latch onto bright, familiar blue ones across the way.

If he’d taken the shot, he would have choked in this moment when confronted with Anakin Skywalker, out of the lecture hall and looking so intensely at Obi-Wan that he feels strangely vulnerable. Examined.

He breaks eye contact with his professor when Quinlan’s arm tightens on his shoulder and he knocks their shot glasses together.

It’s second nature at this point to do shots with Quin, and he drinks his down automatically as his eyes can’t help but to dart back to Anakin--Professor Skywalker--at his table.

He’s sitting alone. Not even that dressed up. Obi-Wan has no feelings about this.

Quinlan, who is frighteningly observant at the worst times, clues into Professor Skywalker’s presence before he thinks he should, after only ten or so minutes have passed. “That guy is staring at you,” he whispers very loudly to Obi-Wan, taking a pointed sip of his newest drink. “Or maybe me, but he sorta looks angry whenever I touch you.”

As if to prove this, Quinlan moves in to place a sloppy kiss on Obi-Wan’s cheek. Obi-Wan can’t shove him off quickly enough.

“Yep, definitely looking at you.” Quinlan concludes. “Looks blond, older than us, but like. Not ancient. What are you thinking? Wanna go over? I think you should, he looks like he’d give you a good time.”

Obi-Wan stares down at his drink. Quinlan doesn’t know what Professor Skywalker looks like. He doesn’t know that he’s actually cajoling Obi-Wan into the arms of the one person he’s set against him seeing. If Obi-Wan were a better friend, he’d tell him. But Obi-Wan isn’t. Obi-Wan’s feeling a little tipsy from the drinks, and his legs are all smooth, and he wants to talk to Professor Skywalker. He wants to see if maybe the man could want him if he’s wearing this. If he looks like this.

“I’m gonna go over and talk to him,” he decides in a rush, already lifting himself out of his seat. Quinlan crows in delight and reaches out to steady him when he stumbles a bit.

Water next, Obi-Wan thinks. He’s going to have water next.

It’s a short trip across the room to where Professor Skywalker is sitting. It just feels longer because of nerves. God, what is he doing? Why is he doing this?

But suddenly he’s at Anakin’s table. Suddenly he’s standing right in front of him, drink clutched in both hands, very aware of how much skin his outfit is showing off.

Anakin’s eyes dart down and the back up again before lingering at the exposed skin of his thighs. If it were anyone else, Obi-Wan would think he’s being checked out, but it’s his professor. And no matter how much Obi-Wan may want Anakin’s eyes to stick on him like a brand, he knows the older man would never want that same thing.

“Professor Skywalker, hello,” he finally says, fiddling with the straw in his drink. A few seconds later, he takes a sip, conscious of the way the man follows this motion. If it were anyone else--

But it’s not.

“Obi-Wan, I’ve told you to call me Anakin,” the professor scolds. “Especially outside of the classroom.”

“Sorry,” he says immediately. “Um. Anakin.”

Anakin’s arm drapes itself over the back of his booth as he sits more comfortably in his chair. “Please, sit.”

“I don’t want to intrude or anything, I just saw you and thought I would say--”

“Obi-Wan, sit,” this is a much clearer instruction. Obi-Wan drops into the other chair. Anakin looks him over again. “I have to admit, I didn’t have you pegged for being into this holiday,” he says roughly. “Or so committed to it.”

Obi-Wan thinks he’s probably blushing as red as his hood. “No, I um. You’re right. My friend, I--he wanted me to come out with him, and he only got me two costumes--I wouldn’t, but he--”

“Indiana Jones?” Anakin cuts in to ask sharply. “Sounds like a bit of a controlling boyfriend if he made you do something you’re not comfortable with.”

There’s an air of protectiveness in Anakin’s voice that makes Obi-Wan feel warm on the inside. Even though the professor couldn’t have been more wrong.

“No, no,” he corrects him anyway, even though a part of him is yelling that Anakin really doesn’t care that much about the details of his personal life. “We’re just friends. And I….”

He trails off, and Anakin arches one of his thick eyebrows in expectancy.

It may be that expression, the knowledge that Obi-Wan could give Anakin the answer he’s looking for, or the drinks in his system, but he finds himself continuing, admitting quite quietly, “I like it.”

Anakin straightens in his seat and takes a long pull of his own drink. “You like it,” he repeats. “Am I to assume you’re just a fan of the fairytale?”

Obi-Wan bites at his lip. He knows he shouldn’t say anything more, but....but they’re so far from the lecture hall here. It’s hard to remember why they shouldn’t talk about this. It’s hard not to let his mind wander to what he would say if the person he was talking to was not his professor, but a man he was interested in spending the night with, someone he was trying to seduce.

He shakes his head shyly.

“I like the hood,” he admits, because once he’s thought of it it’s incredibly difficult not to say it. He hardly even tries, if he’s being honest. “The cape is just long enough I can feel it on my thighs. And I like the skirt and--” he hesitates here, but it’s not called liquid courage for nothing. “The lingerie it came with.”

Anakin freezes with his drink halfway to his mouth. Slowly, he sets it back onto the table again and studies Obi-Wan with darkened eyes. His expression is unreadable and it makes Obi-Wan squirm in his seat.

“Fuck,” Anakin breathes out, the word almost lost to the roar of noise in the bar.

Obi-Wan fidgets in his seat. “Actually, sir,” he says suddenly. “I’m sorry, I should go, I only meant to say hello--”

“You should stay,” the professor interrupts, leaning forward and placing his hand on Obi-Wan’s forearm. The touch is electrifying. “For a drink.”

“Just a drink,” Obi-Wan agrees probably too quickly, a part of him responding to Anakin’s pleading expression perhaps more than it should. “My, what big eyes you have,” he jokes in regards to his professor’s begging look.

“The better to see you with,” Anakin replies immediately. For a second, his hand on Obi-Wan’s arm doesn’t move. Then his thumb strokes over the smooth skin there before he pulls back. “My dear.”

#asks #sorta cuts out right before the good stuff rip #but still!!!#fun to write and easy to write this time!!!#i did almost have obi-wan be a bunny but at the last second i was like lets keep it classic #and just a lil dirty #in this scene anakin is constantly thinking about how many days are left until the semester ends #he's like '2 months it's 2 months you can do this skywalker it's just 2 months'#'oh fuck did he just say he's wearing lingerie???? FUCK TWO MONTHS IT'S ONLY TWO MONTHS'#ta au #obikin #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi

184 notes · View notes

mahalkitajohnnysuh · 4 years

Text

JH (Part I)

So, I’m a bit behind my posting schedule. I’m sorry about that; you know how life can get in the way of things. But here we are again, focusing on my NCT 127 bias wrecker – Jeong Jaehyun.

Since he never looks terrible in his outfits and hair color, here’s a pink-haired GIF of Jay for your pleasure. It’s one of my favorite looks on him, and this era started wrecking me towards him. Oops!

Mahal ko kayong lahat! :)

–––

Summary: Like the previous post, the pieces here were inspired by a prompt list by @neoculturedrabbles.

POV: 2nd person for the first, 3rd person for the second.

Word count: 1,400+ words

–––

Prompt #13: “Is that my towel?”

“…”

“Never mind, I’ll get it later.”

Aside from placing his dirty launder in your hamper, Jaehyun tends to use your stuff too. At first, it didn’t sit well with you, considering your other housemates did that as well. (Johnny and Mark loved using your bath products, especially your sandalwood soap.)

Eventually, after the first week of your stay in his apartment, you got used to it. However, it bothered you (a bit) when you spotted him using your towel.

When he emerged from the bathroom, you saw that your white and blue striped towel was wrapped around his torso. He didn’t mind showing you his abs, erm, torso, and you tried your best to avert your gaze at it. You focused on his face instead – it was a bit obscured from his damp hair. At least that was less distracting than his upper body.

“Is that my towel?” You started, your eyes focused on his face. You couldn’t tell what his reaction was since he shook his head to cover his face more (probably from shame).

He didn’t respond and stood still on his spot.

“Never mind, I’ll get it later. Please dry it off well,” you mumbled, walking away and heading straight to the balcony.

\\\

As you smoked your fourth stick for the day, you heard the balcony door slide open to reveal a fully-clothed Jaehyun about to dry the towel he used.

You immediately put out the cigarette and looked at him place it carefully over the drying rack. “What gives, and you had to use my towel, Jay?” You asked, making yourself comfortable on the patio chair.

“Sorry about that, Essie,” he turned to look at you with an apologetic smile, “but I tend to use the first towel that I see.”

You sighed at his response and stood up. “Next time, I’ll place your towel inside your bedroom, so you don’t use mine.” You patted his shoulder before leaving, but he held your hand to stop you.

“I’m really sorry, dear,” he whispered, looking at you with puppy eyes. You sighed again because you knew what would happen next. “I’ll make it up to you, okay? I’ll treat you to coffee.”

“Okay, fine. You know my usual, right?”

“Yeah, do I need to say it out loud?”

“Nope, I’m confident that you know it by heart.”

Your response got a giggle out of him, and he let go of your hand so you could return inside.

Why must he always bribe you with your favorite things so you can forgive him for his forgetfulness? You thought, wrinkling your nose at the thought of just going along with his plans.

But you like it anyway; you like it when he spoils you like that.

“Shut up, brain,” you mumbled to yourself before settling on the couch with your phone.

///

Prompt #16: “My ex is over there. Can you kiss me?”

Tonight was a cliché waiting to unfold: Essie was in a house party where she’s bound to see her ex from centuries ago.

The host of the said party was a common friend of theirs but also a friend of her new buddies Johnny, Jaehyun, and Mark to name a few.

The party was to celebrate this friend’s milestone of moving abroad for a job opportunity of a lifetime.

Although the presence of Essie’s ex has not yet been confirmed, there is always a possibility that he will be there.

As she wove her way through the crowd, she noticed that Jaehyun was waving enthusiastically at her from a corner. She spotted that he had a drink on one hand, making her wonder where the hell the drinks could be.

The party wasn’t jam-packed, yet there was already a considerable crowd inside. She rushed through the brunette’s side, who was drinking a glass of red wine.

“Hey Jay,” she greeted, exchanging bisous with him. That was how they always greeted each other, anytime and anywhere. He returned it, his free hand squeezing hers.

“Glad you could come to this party,” he started, before taking a sip from his wine, “I thought I was the only one coming here.”

“Where’s John?” She asked, eyes scanning the room for the tall guy. As her eyes roamed for a moment, she didn’t notice that Jaehyun’s eyes darkened at the mention of his friend.

“He might not come; he had important errands to run,” he said, throwing his head back to disguise the fact that he was miffed with her question.

“Okay then…so let’s try to have fun here then?” Essie held out her other hand to him, which he took, and both of them went to the kitchen to get more drinks.

They chatted over wine and beer before they busted their dance moves with the rest of the crowd near the pool. People cheered for them when they did a spicy couple dance (bordering on dirty dancing) and howled even more when they recreated a pop idol’s famous choreography.

Essie’s carefree attitude didn’t last long after they were done dancing – she spotted her ex from afar talking to a girl in a skimpy outfit.

This prompted her to look at her clothing – a long-sleeved crop top, a pair of harem pants, and combat boots – and groaned when she realized what she was doing. So what if she wasn’t showing off her assets? He wouldn’t come back to her anymore, nor should she let him back in her life.

But before she could turn her eyes away from her ex, he spotted her. Panic was written all over her face as she turned to Jaehyun, who sensed her agitation. The guy wasn’t able to say anything as the words that came out of her mouth surprised him.

“My ex is over there. Can you kiss me?”

He was hesitant to grant her request at first but then realized that it was time to hit two birds with one stone – do what she was told and subtly let her know that he was into her.

So he did and pecked her on the lips.

The girl was surprised at his action but went along with it when he pressed his lips further. The peck didn’t even last a minute, but she hoped that her ex saw it so he wouldn’t dare confront her anymore.

After all, it was she who broke up with him. He had no right to claim her back for the things he did. He should understand that she was moving on just fine.

However, Jaehyun heard her wrong. Since they were in a crowded place where the music was about to ruin their eardrums, what she actually said was: “My ex is over there. Can you hide me?”

Add to that her small and soft voice – it was shocking that most of her friends don’t misunderstand her words…until now.

Essie was expecting that Jaehyun will lead her out of the area and resume their drinking session inside, but life likes to throw curveballs sometimes.

The two were left dumbfounded at what happened. “Jay…why did you kiss me?” The girl asked cautiously.

“You told me to?”

Her eyes widened, and her mouth hung open with his statement.

“No, Jay! I didn’t tell you that! What I said was, can you hide me?”

Ah, he heard all right now. His face warmed up at the realization that he misheard her, and suddenly, he couldn’t look her in the eyes. He covered his face with his hands, mumbling what an idiot he is.

“Oh no, Jay! Please don’t do this to yourself,” Essie whispered, holding him by the shoulders. “You misheard me, it’s fine. I’m not mad with what you did…”

“You liked it?” His answer shocked her again, making her clutch her chest.

“Jeong Jaehyun!” She shook both of his shoulders vigorously, which didn’t bother him at all as he chuckled at her reaction.

“I could do that again if you like.”

It took the girl a moment to respond. “Maybe when I see him near me again, I’ll let you.”

“That’s my girl,” Jaehyun closed the small distance between them by wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead. “We can pretend to be together; there’s no one aside from our common friend who knows us here.”

Essie raised an eyebrow at him, wondering where he got his bravado. “You’re awfully bold tonight, sir.”

“It must be the alcohol,” he glanced at the empty beer bottles on top of a nearby table, “shall we get another round, dear?”

“I never thought you’d ask,” she giggled, taking his hand in hers, and together they walked back to the house holding hands.

–––

FIN

43 notes · View notes

5sospank · 5 years

Text

all these years - ashton one shot

Word Count: 7,407

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: smut, bestfriend!ashton

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

A/N: so this didn’t exactly turn out as planned, but i’m okay with it. not my favorite thing i’ve written but i hope you guys enjoy :) trying to get back into writing more this summer.

From before you could even remember, Ashton was always around. His honey colored hair and jade eyes were a constant staple in your memories. Whether it was passing by in the school hallway, hanging in your basement during your brother Luke’s band practice, or summer days spent getting drunk on the beach, Ashton was there for it all. You had watched each other grow up for years. They were fond times of learning, laughing, and wondering what you would do without one another.

But when Ashton and Luke’s band began to take over the world, you eventually had to live without both of them. It was bittersweet to lose the people you spent all your time with. You often had to remind yourself it was so they could live out their dreams everyday. Still, it hurt when they missed graduations, birthdays, and too many holidays to count. In the beginning, they made time for you when they could, but as time went on, you really only saw your brother on his breaks.

The distance bothered you more than you wanted it to. Years had gone by and they were still on fire. You saw their faces everywhere; billboards, award shows, interviews, magazines, social media. You had certainly moved on from those high school days, but sometimes, those feelings and memories crept up on you.

You supposed that’s what had you reaching out to your brother to schedule some sort of visit.

“You wanna come on tour?” Luke repeated over the phone. Confusion was etched into his voice. You could make out loud background noise, as if it was a bad time and he was busy.

“Well...yeah,” You said, defeated. “It’s been a long time since we’ve done something fun. I thought making the trip would be nice, you know? I can take time off work.”

“Whatever you wanna do, Y/N. You’re always welcome. Just -” Luke cursed on the other line, muttered something to someone else who you figured he was in the room with. “Just have mom reach out to my assistant, alright? She’ll get you on a plane out here whenever. I’m sure Ash would like to see you too.”

You couldn’t help but feel a sudden sense of excitement, even if Luke’s answer wasn’t too enthusiastic. The thought of ditching your normal life to spend a few days on the road with your brother and his band sounded too good at the moment. Even if it was a bit spontaneous, the plans were too enticing to pass up. Plus, there was the mere chance that Ashton would be happy to see you, too.

“Okay, Luke,” you replied. “I guess I’ll see you soon.”

One week later, you were checking in to the nicest hotel in Amsterdam.

It was your first time there. Before, you had only seen it in movies and photos, and on Luke and Ashton’s Instagrams, of course. The accents were lovely and the weather was obscenely perfect once you arrived; cool fall air and changing leaves, with locals buttoned up in long coats and hats.

It was just past dinner and the change of time zones left you a bit foggy. You had never dealt well with jet lag and were thinking of ordering room service and staying in for the night. First, you had to head over to Luke’s suite and say hello.

After checking his room info, you slipped on a sweater and headed his way. You weren’t surprised to see security standing outside the door. Luke and the guys usually had guards everywhere these days. They could never be too safe.

He checked your ID and let you in, seeing as you were Luke’s sister and he was expecting you. Loud music instantly greeted you and a case of beer was on the table in the suite’s entrance way, accompanied by solo cups. The decor of the suite was charming and antiquated, and floor-to-ceiling windows provided a great view of the city. Your hotel room certainly didn’t look like this.

“Luke?” You called out, stepping inside. “I’m here.”

You were met with no response. Instead, movement to your right caught your eye, and there was none other than Ashton in a pair of gray sweats and a white tank top. The sweats were slung low on his hips, his arms still scattered with beads of water from a recent shower. His hair was damp and hanging onto his forehead. You had to swallow to keep your jaw from dropping.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” He stuttered out. “Wow, hi. Luke went over to Michael’s room, but he’ll be back in a few.”

You were frozen in place. You couldn’t remember when you had last seen him and it showed in his face. His jaw was a bit harder, age etched into his features slightly. The time evidently suited him. His body was more defined, torso less boyish and lanky. You couldn’t help but stare in awe. It had been so long, yet, the feelings that overcame you were all too familiar.

“Hey,” You breathed out. “Uh, sorry. He told me to come by.”

“I know, it’s okay. That’s why I stayed back,” he said. “I missed you. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Suddenly, you somewhat uncomfortable under his gaze. He was shamelessly studying you, noting how different you looked as well. Your whole lives, you had always been seen as Luke’s little sister. Some time apart seemed to separate you from that identity. He liked this new you, it seemed; a good kind of different.

You met his eyes again. “I missed you too, Ashton.”

He let out a sigh, almost as if he was unsure of what to say or do next. Instead of speaking, he waved a hand, signaling for you to follow him further into the suite. It was growing dark outside but the room was dimly lit, allowing you to make out the dips and curves and edges of Ashton’s back as you walked behind him. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it messy. You forced yourself to look away.

“You can sit,” He said softly. “Want a beer? Or, like, a drink or something?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know if I’ll be drinking tonight, actually. I’m feeling kind of jet lagged.”

Ashton chuckled lowly, shaking his head. “C’mon, Y/N. I haven’t seen you in so long. You flew out to fucking Amsterdam. Who cares about the jet lag? Come out with us tonight.”

You watched the small smile that toyed at his lips. God, that smile. The look on his face alone was enough to get you to change your mind. That, and his words. He wanted you with them, it seemed.

And suddenly, you were back in high school, feeling that same way you always did when it came to Ashton. You wanted to be with him.

So you said yes.

Luke wasn’t nearly as excited to see you as you were to see him. He was already half drunk and complaining about the show they had to play the next day, how tired he was of being on the road. You always found it difficult to have sympathy for him.

After he had come back to the suite to you find you and Ashton staring at each other from opposite sides of the room, Luke joined in on the effort to get you to go out with them. He had boasted the idea of VIP at one of Amsterdam’s best clubs, claiming that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. You kind of agreed with him on that.

Shortly after, you found yourself sipping on a vodka Red Bull, heavy club bass pulsing in your ears. You had gotten ready for the night in record timing, but still, all the guys complained about how long you took.

The VIP section was full of people you didn’t know. Strange men lingered on the flanks of your table, accompanied by girls that Luke snuck in. One had herself stationed on Calum’s lap, nursing an old drink and whispering something in his ear. The pink and blue hues of the neon lights were almost overwhelming. You hadn’t stepped foot on the party scene since your years in college. Clearly you were a bit rusty, and it became evident to you that you were a wallflower in that moment.

“You alright?”

You felt a hand at the small of your back. The touch was comforting, innocent, yet it held so much weight. Your skin warmed at the sensation. It was Ashton.

“I’m good, yeah.” You replied with an overzealous nod once you turned to face him. “Forgot what it’s like to party with you guys.”

He rolled his eyes at your statement, glancing in Luke’s direction. “Wanna come outside with me? I need a smoke.”

You instantly took Ashton up on his offer. Any excuse to get away from your brother’s playboy tendencies was needed.

However, you were almost startled when Ashton took your hand in his, leading you through a crowd of people. He weaved his way to the side entrance of the club. The feeling of his hand on yours burned, but you ignored it, swallowed the thoughts that crept into your head.

He brought the two of you to the side of the door. The night’s cool air nipped at your skin - your outfit wasn’t doing much to keep you warm.

“Here, take my jacket.” Ashton’s stare dropped over you. He evidently saw you shiver.

“No, no, I’m fine -”

“Just take it,” Ashton interjected, shrugging the leather off his shoulders. “Really.”

Reluctantly, you took his jacket and shoved your arms through its sleeves. You knew it was undoubtedly expensive, just from the looks and feel of it. It definitely kept you warmer, however.

You stood in his jacket outside the club. The music wasn’t as loud, just a distant hum, and only a few people lingered around you. The night was dark but the lights from overhead illuminated Ashton’s features. Casts of shadows flickered over his face.

A comfortable silence formed as Ashton retrieved a lighter from his back pocket. He patted his front pockets, finding nothing, until his eyes flickered back to you.

“Cigs.” He muttered.

Your face scrunched up in confusion as he extended his arms forward, as if he was trying to hug you. Instead, he dug around in the pocket of his jacket - the one you were wearing - and pulled out his pack. The sudden proximity to him made your breath catch in your throat. His face was inches from yours until he backed away.

“I never knew you smoked.” You stated dumbly, distracting yourself from the thoughts that began to form in your mind.

“Bad habit I picked up over the years. Well, one of many.” Ashton chuckled emptily. He put a cigarette between his lips, holding his lighter up to the end. Once it was lit, he inhaled deeply, his jaw clenching with the motion.

You forced your stare away and looked down the street instead. People walked by here and there, cars passing on the road.

“You don’t smoke, do you?” Ashton questioned to fill the silence. He exhaled, then brought the cigarette up to his lips again. You found yourself hating how he made the dirty habit look so good.

“No, never.”

He hummed, bemused. “Good. You were always good.”

“I don’t know about that,” You let out a light laugh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“That’s fair. Even though you were three years younger, you always stole the alcohol for everyone, remember?” Ashton grinned. He leaned himself up against the wall next to you.

“Mom and dad’s liquor collection definitely suffered during our high school years.”

You recalled being a teenager, back when you would have done anything to impress your brother and his friends. They would often throw parties when your parents were gone and Luke always put you in charge of the vodka thievery. It definitely got you into trouble.

“Those were the days,” Ashton murmured, clearly lost in thought. He stomped out his cigarette beneath his black boot. “And look at us now.”

“What,” You paused. “A world-renowned celebrity and a washed up college graduate, in the middle of Amsterdam, avoiding the club?”

“I wasn’t meaning that.” Ashton met your gaze. A frown graced his features.

You were unsure of what to say. You let yourself meet his eyes for a moment longer, before stepping to the side to lean on the wall next to him. His jacket engulfed you, your shoulder against his arm. His height towered over you.

“I’m not a celebrity. Not to you, at least.” Ashton added softly. “You know me.”

You let his words hang in the air between you like an echo. You turned to look at him again, ignoring the way your stomach turned at your new proximity. “Do I know you, though? It’s been so long, Ashton.”

The words you dared to say seemed to cut into him, make him bleed. His brow furrowed, a deep, smoky sigh leaving his lips. “You’ll see by the time you leave. You know me more than most.”

He stood up and didn’t wait for your reply. It was as if he knew you didn’t have one. Your conversation was over, despite the heavy feeling it left in your chest. Your comment seemed to bother him even if that wasn’t your intention.

He waited as you shrugged off his jacket and handed it back to him. He carried it over his arm, taking your hand with the other. His hand was now cold against your own from the air around.

As he led you back through the club, he ignored the invasive stares of those who recognized him. His demeanor was strong and confident, softening once he reached the comfort of his friends. He dropped your hand and replaced it with a fresh drink from a cocktail waitress. Under the neon lights, you decided you really didn’t know him - not anymore.

When you reached the hotel again, it was past three in the morning, and you felt your body sinking with exhaustion. You had been awake for too long and the time difference was really getting to you. The drinks you had downed just to tolerate the club weren’t helping, either.

Luke and Calum had left in another security car on their own, having gone home with the girls they entertained for the night. You weren’t really disappointed or surprised. Luke certainly liked to make the most of his nights out. Girls threw themselves at him and Calum - you couldn’t really blame their tendencies.

That left you stumbling into the hotel with Ashton and Michael in tow. You filed into the elevator, fishing around your bag for your room key.

“How upset would your mom be if she knew Luke was still banging a different girl in every country?” Michael broke the silence, a playful smile on his face.

You laughed at his remark. “She’s still waiting for him to bring a girl home.”

“Tell her not to hold her breath, then.” Michael replied.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped out, turning to glance at Ashton in confusion when he didn’t move. You did the same.

“I’m going to walk Y/N to her room.” He stated blankly. “I’ll meet you in the suite.”

Michael nodded and said good night. The doors closed and you were left alone with Ashton again. There was a thick tension that blanketed the air between you that was difficult to ignore. Still, you did your best, focusing your sight on the floor beneath your feet.

Once the elevator reached your stop, you stepped out in front of Ashton. “You didn’t have to walk me here, you know.”

“I wanted to. Luke shouldn’t leave you by yourself.”

You stopped in front of your room number, moving to unlock the door. “It’s alright. I kind of figured it would end up like this.”

“Then why’d you come?” Ashton asked. He followed you into your room without invitation. You didn’t mind.

Immediately, you kicked your heels off, sitting at the foot of the bed. Ashton stood before you, hands in his pockets, concern in his eyes as he studied your face. You recognized that expression. He was always worried about you - protective.

“I don’t know,” You sighed. “It gets old, life at home. The routine of it all.”

Ashton chuckled dryly. He sat down beside you. There was just enough distance between your figures so that your heart didn’t start beating too fast.

“You don’t understand how often I wish for a routine lately. Something constant, you know?” His voice was low.

You turned to look at him. The simple confession struck you. And it all felt so strange - sitting in an Amsterdam hotel room with Ashton, after all these years had gone by where you thought about him endlessly. He was him, but he wasn’t. He had built up this persona that was based so wholly on his career; travelling the world, putting on a brave face, performing to thousands. You found yourself understanding his confession as that sensitivity you used to know back when you were sixteen, back when you would’ve done anything for him. In that moment right there, you still would’ve done anything for him.

“There’s another reason why I came here, Ashton.” You spoke after a moment, without thinking.

He leaned back. Intrigue flashed in his light eyes. “What is it?”

“You. It’s you.”

His mouth fell agape just slightly. You went still, almost shocked at your own words, waiting for him to say anything. Do anything. But he kept quiet, his gaze on yours all the while. You grew nervous under that gaze but didn’t dare look away. The moment was too important to you. You wanted to see him.

The room stopped spinning and time stood still in that fraction of a second when he first leant forward. You had thought about this moment for years and turned it over and over in your mind. You wondered how it would happen, where it would happen - if it would ever happen. And there you were, in your Amsterdam hotel room, and it was happening. He was kissing you.

He was kissing you and you were on fire. Your skin felt hot and your lips melted against his swiftly, tasting the alcohol and cigarettes that stained his tongue. His hands cradled your face, holding you there, wanting this kiss to last forever.

But it didn’t, and you knew it wouldn’t, although it still hurt when he pulled away. You wanted to kiss him all night.

Instead, he let his thumbs slide over your cheeks, one of them swiping over your bottom lip gently. “Good night.”

You awoke the next morning, or rather, afternoon, wondering if the night before had really happened, or if it was just some sort of euphoric dream that your jet lagged brain had concocted to mess with you. The feeling that sunk into your bones left you on a high yet also an anxious wreck.

You kissed Ashton; your brother’s best friend and bandmate. Your childhood friend. Someone you grew up with. It was a strange concept to grasp, and part of you wondered if he was thinking about it in the same way you were.

After he said good night, he had just stood up and left your hotel room with one longing glance over his shoulder. You wondered if he wanted to stay, or if he left because he thought it was a mistake. Your brain was thinking in overdrive.

As you laid in bed, you texted Luke about the day’s plans. Everyone had woken up considerably late since the night before was spent drinking excessively. You thought about how Luke and Calum probably spent their mornings kicking out the girls they had won over the night before. Yikes.

Luke notified you that they would send a car from security to pick you up and bring you to the venue later. The band had already woken up early (and hungover) to soundcheck, so you were left to your own devices for the remainder of the afternoon.

You spent that time getting ready for their show, organizing your suitcase since the next day you and the band would be headed to Germany for the next gig. You were only staying for a few days, but being able to make it to more than one country was kind of thrilling to you. It had been a while since you travelled like this.

You put a bit of extra effort into your hair and make up, suddenly feeling like you had someone to impress. You tried not to get too ahead of yourself.

By the time you ordered room service and ate, you were ready to go. Your stomach was churning as you were driven to the venue and escorted into the band’s dressing room. It was usually off limits even for guests, but Luke was kind enough to cut you some slack.

When you entered the dressing room, it was a bit hectic. Your brother was sat shirtless in a chair in front of a mirror getting his hair gelled by someone on their styling team. Michael was on the phone with his fiance, and Calum was chatting with Ashton on a leather sofa. Everyone turned to look at you when you came in.

“Ah, she has risen,” Luke shouted, making eye contact with you through the mirror. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t have to wake up early and kick some strangers out of my bed.”

The guys laughed as Luke flipped the finger in your direction. When you moved to find a seat in the room, you met eyes with Ashton. You couldn’t help it when you looked away quickly and sat down next to Michael.

“So, Y/N, are you excited for the show?” Calum asked you. He sipped on some coffee, clearly feeling a bit tired from the night before.

“Uh, yeah,” You stuttered. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you guys perform.”

“Well, don’t worry, we’ve improved since your mom’s basement.”

You laughed at Calum’s remark, shaking your head. “I came to see you guys, like, two years ago. It hasn’t been that long.”

The conversation died down quickly after, and you became more aware of Ashton’s presence. Neither one of you had said anything to each other yet. Internally, you were panicking. Had you said too much? Was the kiss just a drunken mistake? Was he going to pretend it didn’t happen?

You didn’t know what to make of the situation, but it was eating at you. However, there wasn’t much more time to reflect, as the guys were about to get on stage. You studied them; their outfits, how much they had grown into themselves and found their way. As they filed together to get a photo before heading out, you were overwhelmed with a feeling of pride. They really had made it.

One of their team members escorted you to your seat in the guest section of the audience. There were just as many screaming girls as you had remembered, although it seemed a bit toned down at this point. You couldn’t help it when you joined in when they entered the stage. Luke took the center, with Calum and Michael to his sides. In the back perched at his drum kit was Ashton.

When you looked at him, your heart ached.

You were alone in your hotel room for the night. After the show, you had ditched the guys and gone back on your own to pack for the next show and get yourself together. They had insisted on trying some pub downtown, but after the high of their performance, you couldn’t really be bothered. Also, maybe you were avoiding someone.

After taking a hot shower and using subpar hotel shampoo and conditioner, you dressed yourself in an oversized hoodie and shorts. You were climbing onto the bed when you heard a knock on your door, as if on cue.

Once you pulled yourself out of bed, you pushed your hair wet hair out of your face to look through the door’s peephole. Your heart instantly skipped a beat at the sight of who was out there.

“Ashton,” You breathed out his name and swung the door open. “Aren’t you supposed to be out?”

He looked too good. You almost couldn’t meet his eyes. He was dressed in dark pants and his usual boots, a satin button up tucked into an expensive belt. Short sleeves hugged his biceps, showing off the muscles beneath his exposed skin. His hair had been styled neatly after a post-show shower. A few strands hung down onto his forehead effortlessly, and you realized that your current look didn’t exactly live up to his.

When he spoke, his voice was low, hesitant. “I...uh, wanted to talk to you.”

Your brow furrowed at his tone. You were instantly nervous - those words usually never signaled that something good was about to happen. Given last night’s circumstances, you automatically assumed the worst. Still, you wanted to hear what he had to say.

You stepped aside, nodding. “Okay. Come in, then.”

You watched as Ashton strode into your room. His walk was slow, as if every step he took, he was unsure of. He kept running his fingers through his neatly combed hair, ruining it, but he didn’t seem to care about his appearance right then. He didn’t seem to realize how handsome he looked.

He turned and leaned back against the dresser, eyes following your figure as you crossed the room to sit before him on the foot of your bed. You noted how he didn’t sit beside you, like the night before. He kept his distance.

“Yesterday,” He began. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. That shouldn’t have happened.”

You stared at him blankly, despite the heavy weight that crushed your chest. His words stung. They were plainly stated and blunt as if he was simply trying to rip off the band-aid. You couldn’t bring yourself to reply, so he inevitably continued.

“I was just kind of overwhelmed, you know? I haven’t seen you in years even though you used to be one of my best friends. Then Luke drops on me that you’re spending a few days on tour, and you walk in...and you’re beautiful, really beautiful. More than I remembered.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words. You didn’t know what to make of this conversation, or where it was going. It was hard to understand if he was regretting the night before or if he was justifying it. The confusion etched into his features seemed to mirror his thoughts.

With a sigh, you decided to speak. “Ashton -”

“No, just listen,” He interrupted. “Hear me out.”

“Alright.”

“I can’t have feelings for you like that. You’re my best friend’s little sister. I’ve known you my whole life, it feels. It’s wrong, and I’m sorry.”

You knew that the hurt you were feeling was showing on your face, because instantly, the look in Ashton’s eyes softened. He didn’t want to upset you - you knew that. But you couldn’t help how he was dismissing the moment you shared, the words you spoke to him, just because the situation seemed wrong by technicality. It certainly didn’t feel wrong. Not to you, at least.

Through the disappointment and pain you were simultaneously feeling, all you could do was stare. Ashton had stopped speaking momentarily. He looked as if he wanted to say more, as if the words were on the tip of his tongue, clouding his mind. However, he closed the space between the two of you, and took a seat next to you on the bed. You registered this as some sort of surrender.

When he spoke again, his voice was softer, more gentle. A whisper at your skin.

“But I don’t care. And I want you to know that.”

You snapped to meet his gaze. You knew your eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape. You had wanted to say so much when you first registered his words, but now, your mind drew a blank. He had feelings for you. After all these years, he had feelings for you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to conjure up a reply. Instead, you took his face between your hands, pressed your lips to his. He was surprised at first but grew to settle into your kiss almost immediately. His hands found your waist and urged you closer; he needed you there.

Your knees knocked and the kiss was heated and fast. You swallowed his breaths as his hands danced up your waist, feeling and feeling and feeling. You let him pull you into his lap so that each of your thighs straddled him.

As his tongue ran over yours, you found trouble processing what was happening. You thought about being sixteen years old and loving him with everything in you, but doing nothing about it. You thought about when he left home for the road and didn’t look back. You thought about how your heart was broken, but he was now stitching it back together. And he had felt this way all along, you realized.

His grip was strong on your hips as you leaned down to kiss him with a fervor that was unfamiliar to you. Your hands were in his hair, tugging, relishing everything he was giving you in that moment. There was so much to say yet nothing to say at all.

Ashton slowly backed down so that he was laying on the mattress, your figure looming over his. Your kisses came to an abrupt halt at once; your eyes flew open, landing on his. The green was darker, pupils blown, stare wide and wild.

The way he looked up at you sent your stomach into somersaults. You leaned down to kiss him again, but he stopped you.

“Wait,” His voice was strained. “Do - do you want this?”

“Ashton, I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen years old.”

He smiled subtly. It was just the twitch of his mouth ends, but it meant so much to you. He reached up, tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, and kissed you shortly. “I wanted to hear that.”

You couldn’t help yourself when you leaned down to kiss him again. This time it was slower, sweeter, and the both of you were savoring every second of it. His hands traveled down your back, over your spine, slipping beneath your hoodie to feel the warmth of your skin. Everywhere his fingertips touched, goosebumps rose in their wake. He was affecting you so heavily in just moments.

The room around you was quiet aside from the quiet noise of your kisses. Ashton’s lips moved slowly against yours. When he pulled away to move you onto your back so you were the one beneath him, you finally got a real look at his appearance. His hair was disheveled and cheeks slightly flushed, eyes hooded. He was unreal.

His next move was felt at your navel, where his fingers were tugging gently on the hem of your sweatshirt. You watched the expression on his face change as you allowed him to pull it over your head and off, exposing your bare chest. His eyes raked over your torso, hands following suit, trailing up over your stomach, landing on your breasts. His breathing was heavy when he moved to reconnect your lips.

Something was growing in the pit of your stomach as he touched you, explored your body in the ways he had thought about too many times to admit. You couldn’t help yourself once you began unbuttoning his shirt until it was left open, showcasing the ridges of his abdomen, the light hairs on his chest. He moved back to shrug it off completely. In the dim light of the hotel room, he took your breath away.

You pulled him back to you and let your touch trail over the wide expanse of his back. His body was firm, muscled beneath your hands. You let yourself focus on the sensation of his warmth as his lips trailed down the hollow of your throat; kissing, sucking, nipping. Your back arched into the feeling subconsciously as you released a pent up breath.

“Always been so pretty,” Ashton murmured against your collarbone. He lifted his head. “Want you to feel how much I’ve wanted this.”

You looked at him through hazy eyes. He lifted himself so he was on his knees on the bed, his stature looming over you as you felt strangely exposed before him. You watched idly as his hands moved toward the buckle of his belt, unclasping it with ease, before moving to the button of his jeans.

“Let me,” You whispered.

His eyes flickered down to you. They held an intensity that was foreign to you. It was still Ashton, but you had yet to see him like this.

You noticed the obvious strain against his jeans as you leaned up onto your elbows. Your fingers shook slightly as you snapped open the button, followed by the drag of his zipper. He helped you in pulling the denim down just enough, allowing you the freedom to dip your hand beneath the waistband of his briefs.

“Feel that?” He glanced at you.

You nodded slowly, your eyes locked on him. He was hard beneath your touch as your hand wrapped around his length and squeezed gently. You immediately felt how badly he wanted you.

Absently, you shifted so that you were laying on your front before him, Ashton still propped on his knees. His lips were parted, hands running through his hair as you smoothly jerked him before bringing his tip to your lips. You couldn’t help yourself when you licked at it, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.

“Fuck,” He breathed out. His hands moved to push your hair away from your face.

You lowered your mouth down his length, hollowing your cheeks and sucking to accommodate him. His abdomen tensed as your nose became nearly level with it. Tears perked up in your eyes until you pulled back, then continued the motion all over again, bobbing your head at a steady pace.

His hands gripped at the roots of your hair without him even realizing. He threw his head back as you sucked him off, completely reveling in the pleasure of your mouth on him. He was having trouble believing that this moment was truly happening; you, with him, just like this.

Ashton cursed under his breath. “Just like that, baby.” He encouraged.

His words urged you to increase your pace just slightly. You took his length in your hand, swirled your tongue around his tip, listening to the way he reacted to your movements. He was starting to sweat and his body was tense. You knew that this wouldn’t last long for him.

Still, you lowered your mouth again until you were deepthroating him, bringing your touch down to his balls. You squeezed gently, released them as you gagged. Ashton’s grip on your hair loosened as you did so, his voice wrecked as he mumbled, “Good girl.”

The praise turned you on more than you anticipated. You could feel yourself craving him between your legs - even more so when he pulled you up to kiss him roughly. It was sloppy and haphazard, but you didn’t care. He was so immersed in the moment and you knew he wanted to return the favor.

“Lay down for me, alright?” Ashton said. “Wanna make you feel good.”

You nodded in compliance. Your eyes remained on his as you backed onto the mattress, still in nothing but your shorts. His chest was now flushed red, his jeans still hiked around his thighs, cock standing at its peak. He looked too good for you to fathom. You could only think about all the ways you wanted him; how you would let him do anything to you in that moment.

Ashton shifted so that he was pinning your hips to the bed. He pulled your shorts down quickly, ditching them onto the mattress beside you. His eyes danced wildly over your body, drinking you in.

You watched him with ease as he pushed your legs apart, twining them over his arms and on each side of his head. He studied your reactions as he kissed up the insides of your thighs, painfully slowly, making you twitch beneath him with anticipation.

“Ashton,” You urged, your voice sounding unfamiliar to you.

He didn’t say anything - just pushed his face forward, flattening his tongue on your center, licking upward in one swift motion. You immediately shut your eyes at the sensation, your hips involuntarily jutting upward. He welcomed the movement, continuing the circling of his tongue.

You gripped the comforter beneath you as Ashton worked at your center. He sucked on your clit sporadically, occasionally moving to your thighs to tease you. You were worked up in seconds, biting down on your lip to keep from yelling out. He knew exactly what he was doing.

A curse tumbled from your mouth when he abruptly slipped two fingers into your entrance. He continued with his mouth at your clit, licking and licking as he stared up at you. You found it hard to focus on this as he worked on pumping his fingers in and out, curling to try and reach your g-spot.

He didn’t remove his mouth from your center once as he moved his fingers skillfully. You were practically whining from the sensation, giving him a strong sense of satisfaction as your body writhed beneath him. He tried to keep you still with his free hand, extending it over your abdomen, feeling you tense beneath him.

He only lifted his head once to speak. “Tell me when you come for me.”

You nodded frantically - it was all you could manage in the moment. Your face was contorted as he increased the pace of his fingers inside you.

“I’m coming,” You exhaled. The deadly combination of his fingers and his tongue was what sent you over the edge. He removed his fingers as your body pulsed, leaving his mouth to finish the job, to truly taste you.

You felt yourself twitch under him as he licked at your center once more, his hands smoothing over the skin of your thighs. He savored every second of your orgasm; watched you unravel with a feeling of pride that he could do that to you.

As you let out a deep breath, your body finally relaxed beneath him. Ashton said nothing as he lifted his head, sitting back to look at you in the aftermath of your climax. Despite the exhaustion you felt from such an intense pleasure, you still craved him.

“C’mere,” You breathed out. “God.”

He chuckled lowly, shifting to kiss your neck again. “That good?”

“Too good.”

Ashton ran his fingers down your arm, watching your skin erupt into goosebumps. “Just you wait.”

You leaned in to kiss him. The gesture was slow, allowing you to really ease into his taste. You rolled onto your side to trail your fingertips down his torso, feeling the dips and curves and edges. He immediately groaned into your mouth once you wrapped your hands around his length, stroking once more while he kicked his jeans off the rest of the way.

“You gonna let me fuck you just as good?” He mumbled against your lips.

You stopped your movements. “Please.”

The word itself was all it took for Ashton to pull your body against his, so that your back was flush to his front. He lifted one of your legs, held it there, and then moved so that he could run the tip of his cock against your entrance. You shivered as you waited for him to push inside, and when he did, you couldn’t help the explicit moan you released.

“My God, baby.” Ashton’s voice was strained against your ear.

He used his tight grip on your hip as leverage to push into you completely, feeling you stretch around him. The pressure in your lower abdomen was intense as your walls contracted around him, adjusting. The sensation was overwhelming.

You clenched your jaw. “So big, Ash.”

He groaned again at your words, his forehead pressed against the back of your shoulder. He pulled out almost completely, then pushed back in before he began to develop a rhythm. Your eyes rolled back with the pleasure.

You felt him thrust into you more pointedly with each passing second. He was trying to focus on your pleasure as well as his own, but it seemed difficult for him, as he had been waiting for this moment for too long. The both of you had waited for it.

When he spoke into your ear again, his tone was wrecked, a low grit. “Look straight. The mirror.”

You followed his directions to see the mirror that was just before the bed. You became familiar with your reflections through your blurred vision. The sight was enough to make your breath catch in your throat. Ashton’s arms were so strong, holding you steady, his body glistening in a light layer of sweat as he fucked into you. You looked small before him as he held you on your side, enjoying the proximity and pleasure. It was deeply enticing to watch the intimacy play out before you.

When your eyes locked in the reflection, you bit your lip absently. The way he moved with you effortlessly was just an illustration of the chemistry you shared. It was intoxicating; the way it felt as though your bodies were made for this. You wondered how you spent so many years wishing for it, just wasting time.

When he nudged you to lay on your back, you braced yourself for the way he would make you feel with the new angle. “I need to see you.” He said in undertone.

He held himself up over you on his arms, relying on the shift of his hips on their own. You moaned at how he moved into you so deeply, so intensely. It was too much to see his face level above yours. His brow was furrowed and a vein protruded from his neck, his jaw set and locked. Your stomach flipped as his pace decreased subtly. He was slowing it down.

“Wanna make this last,” He gritted out. “Look so pretty.”

“Feels so good, Ashton.”

“Wanted this for too long, baby.” He admitted.

You could tell he was getting lost in the moment as his words grew more difficult to decipher. You wanted to cry out in pleasure as he moved his hips more pointedly, each thrust feeling more deliberate and deeper. You arched up into him, allowing him to move into you at the perfect angle, making you feel dizzy in the head.

“Gonna come soon,” Ashton told you. His voice was hoarse.

You turned your head, watched in the mirror as he focused on fucking you. He dipped his head down to kiss at your neck, sponging his lips over the skin, his body as close to you as physically possible. In the mirror, his back was broad and tense, hair hanging into his face. His thrusts were growing shorter.

You felt your climax approaching with every move. You succumbed to the pleasure, let it wash over you as your walls squeezed around his length with the feeling. Ashton groaned at the sensation, letting out a string of curses as you came around him without warning.

“That’s it,” He murmured.

Ashton pulled out of you quickly, stroking himself as shifted on the mattress and finished himself off. He came in stripes over your stomach. Until he gave you everything he had, your chests rose and fell quickly with the heat of the moment.

He allowed himself to collapse onto the mattress. When your eyes locked, it felt different, this time - as if the both of you had shared something that was unique to one another. As Ashton spoke, you knew things wouldn’t be the same anymore.

“I’ve been in love with you all these years, too.” He said. “You know me more than most, baby. I told you that.”

#writing #ashton writing #my writing #5sos writing #5sos #5sos fic #ashton one shot #one shot #5sos one shot #5sos smut #smut #ashton smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin one shot

254 notes · View notes