CANDY

♡ — warnings : little bit of banter, heavy petting, arguing (barely lol), loss of virginity, oral (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, a lot of praise, premature ejaculation, slight overstimulation,

“are you sure your brother isn’t here?” pope walked up the steps of your trailer, your bedazzled duffle bag hanging from his shoulder as you unlocked the rickety door. “ugh, yes pope! i told you like a million times already!” you rolled your eyes, stepping inside before pulling him in by his shirt. “m’just asking..” he muttered under his breath, allowing you to basically drag him over to your room. pope had been inside the trailer before when you had snuck him in after walking you home from work so late one night. “barry isn’t coming back tonight, i promise you don’t have to worry about hiding like the last time.” you laughed, sitting him down at the edge of your bed.

stupid? maybe. a waste of time? no doubt.

cut to you hanging over him on his bed while he stares up at you, counting under his breath while you bounce in his lap.

"oh, wait! fuck, fuck fuck, fuck, fuck," he rushes out with a wrinkled face, pulling himself out just as he spurts out several ropes of thick cum. choking a frustrated groan, adrian curses. "shit. it's okay, it's okay. we can keep going. my penis has the ability to stay erect for an impressive amount of time. it's hereditary. thanks pop pop–"

"please don't talk about your pop pop if you want to continue fucking me."

adrian frowns, holding your hip. "this isn't fucking. we're not fucking, we're betting... which, now that i think about it, you've won by default because i climaxed. but. it actually does feel pretty good and–you're a great rider, props to you–it would literally be so rude to stop before you got to experience the beauty of climaxing."

blinking at the toothy grin he finishes speaking with, you mumble a quiet fine and slide him back inside, trying not to whine as the thick of his head splits you open.

you grind instead of bounce this time while adrian relaxes into the mattress. his palms drag against you, resuming his quiet counting.

"53... 54... 55–oh, i liked that one. 56... 57... 58..."

pretty when you cry

toxic!cal can’t resist teasing u ://

ThankU so much!!!! i Homestly didn’t know how to incorporate any Smut into this so there’s not any butThere’s still Makinf out so i hope that’s Ok xxxx 🦄🦄🦄🦄 warnings: toxic!cal, bit of praise, making out 💋💋

calum knew exactly how to get under your skin. it was like a sport to him, like he collected every one of your soft spots just to press them until you cracked. the argument started over nothing—something small, stupid, like him showing up late again or you asking one too many questions about where he’d been.

his voice was sharp, biting in that low, deliberate way. “god, you’re so exhausting sometimes.”

you tried to fight back, words trembling out, but it was useless. your throat tightened, eyes burning, and before you knew it you were blinking back tears.

calum saw it happen. he always did. the way your lip trembled, the way your hands shook when you crossed your arms, like you were trying to hold yourself together. and instead of softening, he leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, mouth curling into that smug half-smile.

“there it is,” he said quietly, almost satisfied. “knew i’d win.”

you turned away, swiping at your cheeks, muttering, “you’re an asshole.”

but then—you felt it. the weight of his arms sliding around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. his chin rested heavy on your shoulder, and you could hear the smirk in his voice when he murmured, “yeah, but you’ll still let me hold you.”

your breath hitched, every part of you screaming to push him away, but your body betrayed you. because calum was warm. calum was safe, even when he was the reason you were crying.

his fingers traced circles against your hips, slow, lazy, like he had all the time in the world. “see?” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. “you can’t stay mad at me. you need me too much.”

you hated that he was right. hated that you melted into him, that your tears stained his shirt while he pressed soft kisses to your temple like nothing had happened.

calum tightened his grip, smug and certain, whispering, “good girl,” against your hair.

his arms stayed locked around you, and for a moment you thought maybe he’d go quiet, let you cry yourself out against his chest. but calum was never that simple. he shifted closer, nose brushing against your hair, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

“baby,” he murmured, voice low, dragging out the word until it melted into you. “don’t cry. you know i can make it better.”

his mouth trailed lower, pressing soft kisses along the side of your neck. you shivered despite yourself, hating how easy it was for him to unravel you after he’d just torn you apart.

“stop,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “don’t—”

“don’t what?” he smirked against your skin, his breath hot, his tone smug. “don’t kiss you? don’t touch you? or don’t remind you how much you need me?”

you swallowed hard, tears slipping fresh down your cheeks as his lips found the spot just under your jaw, the one that made your knees weak every damn time. his hands slid up your sides, slow and steady, holding you like you were fragile porcelain only he had the right to handle.

“look at you,” he whispered, almost reverent, though his words were lined with cockiness. “shaking in my arms. you can’t stay mad, not when i’ve got you like this.”

“calum…” you tried again, but the protest died in your throat, turned into a broken sigh when his teeth grazed your neck.

“shh,” he soothed, though it sounded more like a command. “let me take care of you. let me make it better.”

your hands, traitorous as ever, curled into the fabric of his shirt. you hated how easy it was—how every word, every kiss, every touch slid right past your defenses like he’d built them himself. and maybe he had.

he pulled back just enough to tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. they gleamed in the dim light, dark and certain, his smirk softening into something more dangerous—because it was tender, but only because he knew he’d won.

“that’s it,” he whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth. “just fall into me. you always do.”

and you did. every time.

his lips were already at the corner of your mouth when you caved, tilting your head just enough to meet him. the kiss started soft—almost apologetic—but calum never stayed soft for long. he pressed harder, tasting the salt of your tears, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your neck like he owned every inch of you.

you let out a broken little sigh against his mouth, and he caught it instantly, pulling back just far enough to smirk down at you.

“hear that?” he murmured, thumb stroking along your jaw. “that’s the sound of you giving in.”

“shut up,” you mumbled, but the words lost all their bite when he kissed you again, deeper this time. his tongue brushed yours, slow and deliberate, and your knees nearly buckled.

he laughed into the kiss, low and dark, pulling you closer until your chest was flush against his. “god, you’re so easy,” he whispered between breaths. “one little fight, a few tears, and you’re still letting me have you.”

you gripped his shirt, nails digging into the fabric, hating how much you wanted him and how much he knew it.

his mouth moved to your jaw, then down your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses that had you tilting your head back without thinking. “look at you,” he teased, lips dragging against your skin. “pretending you’re mad when all you really want is me.”

“you’re an ass,” you breathed, but your voice cracked, giving you away completely.

he grinned, kissing you again, harder, swallowing the sound of your protest. when he finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your lips swollen, his eyes dark and shining with triumph.

“say whatever you want, baby,” calum whispered, brushing his nose against yours. “your mouth lies, but your body? your body never does.”

his lips crashed back onto yours before you had the chance to breathe, urgent and unrelenting. the kiss was hungry, like he had something to prove. his mouth moved against yours with practiced ease, tongue slipping past your lips when you parted for him, and he groaned low in his throat like he’d been waiting for this all night.

you whimpered into the kiss, fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt, dragging him closer. he smirked against your mouth, pulling back just an inch to look at you—your swollen lips, your glassy eyes.

“there she is,” he whispered, cocky and soft at the same time. “my good girl, finally giving in.”

you hated how right he was, hated how your chest heaved as you leaned up to chase his mouth again. he let you, laughing under his breath before kissing you deeper, tongue sliding slow and deliberate against yours.

his hands roamed—one splayed over your back, pressing you into him, the other cupping your jaw, tilting your head just how he wanted. every move was controlling, claiming, like he wanted to remind you he had you exactly where he wanted.

your breaths came out ragged between kisses, lips parting and meeting again, over and over, until you were dizzy. calum swallowed every sound you made, pulling back only to murmur against your lips, “knew you’d cave. you always do.”

when you gasped for air, he dipped back down to kiss along your jaw, his tongue dragging teasingly against your skin. you shuddered, nails scraping lightly at his shoulders, and he chuckled, pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down your neck before finding your lips again.

“mmm,” he hummed into your mouth, tasting you like it was his favorite sin. “you’re even sweeter when you’re mad at me.”

you kissed him back harder this time, frustration bleeding into the desperation, your tongue meeting his in a messy clash that left you both breathless.

ignorance

just Toxic bf cal thoughts 🦄🎶

calum hood was a beautiful kind of wreck, the kind of boy your mother would call trouble but your heart called home. he tasted like black coffee and half-forgotten apologies, always showing up at your window at 2am with bloodshot eyes and a smirk that could split you open.

he was chaos bottled in denim jackets and torn band tees, smelling like cigarettes, sweat, and something sweeter you couldn’t name. you loved him the way people loved car crashes; staring even though it hurt, addicted to the impact.

he’d hold you like he couldn’t breathe without you, fingers digging into your skin as if keeping you was the only way to stay alive. but then he’d vanish—radio silence for days, leaving you curled up in sheets that still smelled like him, scrolling through blurry instagram posts of him at parties you weren’t invited to.

“you drive me insane,” you’d hiss, mascara smudged, voice breaking against his chest.

and he’d laugh, low and dangerous, pressing his lips to your jaw. “yeah, baby, but you like it.”

he was the fight and the make-up, the bruise and the kiss after. he was the messy, aching poetry in the margins of your notebook, the reason your hands shook when you lit your cigarette.