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evil luke hemmings (x & x)
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he's just some guy but he's MY guy!!!

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5SOS @ The Sun Rose Hotel
Designated Driver (Calum Hood)
Part Three - Final Part (Part One and Two)
Word Count: 4.322K
Blurb: You and your friend decide to go out to get your mind off a not-so-great week. When your planned DD falls through, her boyfriend, Calum, steps in.
Warnings: Smut: fingering, p in v, body worship, comparing sex to religious iconography, protected sex, hand-job; smut where they're not in love but seem like they are; Language; Calum Hood being devoted; insane yearning.
Note: This is my first smut I've written in years, but I had to take 3 cold showers within the two days of writing this. Good luck and god speed.
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You're not used to riding in Calum's car. Well, sober, at least. You remember faint scraps of the ride home that first night he picked you up from the bar: the residual scent of cigarettes and his cologne, the way you were trying to convince your body not to ruin the leather upholstery of the car, how you had to force yourself not to watch him buckling you in for the sake of honor. Now, however, with your mind completely present and only a single drink in your system, you're aware of everything. One of those things being the way Calum's hands wrap around his steering wheel.
You were acutely aware of how good he looked before, but when he flew into that parking lot and opened the car door for you by reaching across the passenger seat, he looked hotter than you had ever seen him. You didn't know if the last three weeks had been really good to him, or if you just weren't ashamed to acknowledge the way the sight of him made your heart thrum anymore.
"Looking for a ride?" he had asked, his thick eyebrows raising, a smirk on his mouth. You hadn't seen him care-free with you ever this way, so you had smiled and climbed in his car.
Now, you were riding in his passenger as he drives down the highway. He hadn't asked where to take you, knowing the way to your place at this point. You tear your eyes away from his hands when you feel him casting a side-long glance to you.
"I didn't expect you to call me again," he says. The way he says it is light, but you know there's vulnerability there.
"I'm sorry," you say. You know how it looks calling him out of nowhere when you needed an out. "I was dealing with a lot."
Another sidelong glance of those eyes and you're suddenly conscience of the way you carry yourself, of what you say, of everything.
"Yeah, I figured," he says. You realize how you gave a stupid answer. Calum was dealing with a break-up, he could have used a friend. He could have used you.
"I wanted to," you say. "I didn't know how to navigate a friendship with you when Chelsea was still my friend, and--"
"Was still your friend?" Calum interrupts you, catching your allusion. His eyebrow raises and you note the way his nose subtly scrunches when he does. You find it endearing. "Is she not your friend anymore?"
"That's actually why I called you. I just ended it with her at the bar and we had all ridden together."
"Why'd you end it?" he asks as you pull into the apartment complex.
"She wouldn't be honest about what she had done to you."
You try to say it casually, but you know the way that standing up for someone you had only been around a handful of times against your best friend feels like devotion. You feel the way your face warms. Calum doesn't say anything for a moment, just parks his car into the spot outside your apartment and turns to face you, his back leaning against the driver door.
His face searches yours, and you find that his softens. The uncertainty of why you had called no longer etched into his features, that furrow between his brow gone. His eyes are light when they scan your face. You let yourself notice the way the bow of his lips slightly upturn, his strong nose, his jawline and how it doesn't get less angular as it turns into his neck, his tattoos peppered over his collar bones.
This is why you stayed away when he was with Chelsea, because Calum Hood is fucking beautiful, and even sober, it's impossible to fight.
"You didn't have to do that," he says, his voice softening with his gaze.
"I know," you say. "But I wanted to. I didn't want to be around someone who could do that to--"
You stop yourself there, your next words a giveaway to how you really feel about him. He didn't need that. Didn't need to deal with someone with some insane crush so soon after being harmed how he was.
"No," he says. "Don't stop yourself. Tell me."
His voice is laced with subtle control as his tongue flicks to his lips.You can't stop your eyes from going to his mouth and you see the way recognition passes over his face, that he notices your gaze. The energy shift in the vehicle is palpable, and a nervous flit resounds in your stomach. You swallow past the dry mouth and comply.
"--who could do that to someone as great as you. You deserve so much better," you say. It's not a full confession, but it's enough.
There's silence in the car and you're nervous that you've completely exposed yourself, given away all your cards and made yourself look like an idiot over someone who was only extending friendship.
"I'm sorry," you find yourself saying again, reaching for your bag in the floor and moving to open the door.
"Wait," Calum says and his grip is suddenly around your wrist to stop your escape. You don't let yourself immediately look at him, just watching the way his fingers look wrap around your wrist and feeling the way your skin tingles with heat when he touches you. You allow your eyes to travel from his hand, up to his arms, and back to his face.
There's a new look residing in his features. The desperation in his eyes has warmth flooding into all of your limbs and pooling in your lower stomach. You study him, waiting for him to say more.
His lips form around his words carefully, as if what he says could detonate you both.
"Can I come in?" he asks.
You don't want to set yourself up for disappointment, so you tell yourself he's just wanting to talk, but the most true part of you wants him to be asking for more. So you nod.
"Okay," you say.
"Okay," Calum responds.
You both climb out of his car as you pull your key from your bag. You're hyper aware of his presence behind you: his smell, his warmth, the way his breath fans over you from his proximity as you try to manage the door. You notice the way your hands subtly tremble, and you hope Calum doesn't as you twist the deadbolt.
You make your way inside and hold open the door for Calum. He passes in, his eyes not leaving you as shut the door behind. When you turn his gaze is still on you. You tug down on the hem of your dress for no true reason except that standing in front of him, you're aware of the way it doesn't reach mid thigh.
"I need to know why you made sure we barely saw each other when I was with Chelsea," Calum says, not moving from his spot a few feet away from you.
You know you're past the point of no return, so you don't lie.
"I couldn't deal with being around you when you were with her," you say, voice dry.
Calum forces a laugh, a sly smile pulling the right corner of his mouth up. "Am I that horrible to be around?" he asks, the joke falling flat because you both know that's not what you mean. He's testing you.
"I felt like a horrible person. I've--"
You stop for a moment, questioning if this is too honest, too much like skydiving with no parachute.
"--I've never wanted somebody who was not available before."
Calum's expression doesn't shift, but his eyes alter, realization sinking in. He takes a few steps toward you, forcing you to back up, flush against the door. He doesn't touch you, but the way the heat radiates off of his skin, he might as well be consuming you whole. You do your best to keep your eyes on his and not his mouth, but it's difficult when you have to look up at him to keep his gaze.
"Tell me if you want me now," he says, voice steady. His hand goes to rest beside your head, his face so close to yours all he would need to do is dip his head to meet your lips. "I need to know, (Y/N), because I want you." Calum brushes his free hand along your cheek. The gentleness of his touch sends shivers up your spine. "I don't want to have to ignore it anymore," he whispers.
You bring your mouth to his in answer and Calum meets you in a crashing kiss. His lips are soft and warm; you taste the cigarettes he smokes on his mouth. It makes the thrum in your chest beat louder. Calum snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he licks into you, kissing you like he's only ever craved you, like he finally gets to indulge. The wet of his tongue desperately moving against yours has your core throbbing. You stayed away because of this, because of how much you knew you'd be pliable and easy in his hands.
Calum moves his ministrations from your mouth to your jaw and down your neck, his hands roaming to the back of your legs. He hooks one of your legs up around his waist as he gently sucks into the soft skin below your ear. A moan escapes your mouth at the feeling of your barely clothed core ghosting over him straining through his jeans.
"Fuck, you sound so pretty," Calum swears. His mouth stops at your neck and goes to the shell of your ear. "Can I hear how pretty you sound taking my fingers, princess? Please?"
His offer goes straight to your cunt and you feel the wetness gather in your panties. You nod your head yes, but Calum moves from your ear and locks his dark, brown eyes with yours. His pupils are wide with desire and pink tinges his cheeks. You've never made a man flush with desire, before, and it amplifies his next words.
"I need you to use your words, pretty," he says. "I need to know you'll tell me if you ever want me to stop."
You try to steady your voice as you speak, fighting over the arousal and disbelief.
"Calum, I want you to hear how I sound taking your fingers."
A salacious grin spreads over his face as his lips captures yours again. However, you're taken aback when he drops to his knees in front of you.
"Fuck," you say, not able to get anything else out because Calum hooks your right leg over his shoulder. He looks like sin staring up at you from his knees, your clothed core just inches away from his face. Calum's right hand comes up between you, teasing you with his thumb over your clit, causing your hips to snap against the pressure. You know he feels how soaked your panties already are, because his mouth drops open in adoration.
"You're so ready for me, sweetheart," he coos. He presses a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh and you tremble, your body not able to process the desire coursing through you. Calum pulls aside your panties and his fingers tease your entrance, gathering your slick. You grind your hips, needing more, needing him. Calum gives it to you, sliding his middle and ring finger into you at once.
It's more than you expect, and his touch rips a whine from your throat. Your walls flutter around him as he works his digits deeper. Calum looks up at you like the world spins because of the way your cunt takes him. He looks so beautiful on his knees, his fingers fucking into you, chocolate eyes blown wide.
"Fuck," Calum groans. "God, you're so damn beautiful like this."
He curls his fingers up against your walls and you cry out at the electric feeling building at his touch, his tips grazing the one spot inside of you that'll cause you to come undone. You clench around his fingers, knowing your orgasm is fast approaching.
"Fuck yourself on my fingers, angel," Calum groans. "Come all over me."
You're already so close, pathetically so, but you let your hips drag down the length of his fingers, writhing at his touch. You grit your eyes closed and press the back of your head into the wall, letting the obscene sounds of Calum fucking into you fill your brain and the room.
Calum doesn't warn you before slipping a third finger into your cunt, and the stretch of him working you open is what sends you over the edge. Legs trembling, you cry out, a bright white orgasm ripping from your body. Your brain goes fuzzy and you struggle to hold yourself upright as you soak Calum's fingers.
"Goddamn-- you're a fucking vision--" Calum groans, swearing from the floor. You want to look down, want to see the way he's admiring you, but your brain is fuzzy and so fucked out. But you want more, you want to taste what he's done to you.
"Calum," you whisper, panting as you try to ground yourself. You make yourself look down, taking in the scene before you.
Calum looks up with reverence. The flush on his face traveling from his neck and into the collar of his shirt. Your leg is still hooked over him, securing you into place. He looks so wanting, so ready to give you anything you ask for that you don't hesitate when you reach for his wrist and bring his fingers into your mouth.
You love the taste of yourself on Calum's skin, and watch him as you clean yourself from every finger. His mouth is agape, hot, heavy air escaping.
"You're gonna' fuckin' ruin me," Calum groans, removing his fingers from your mouth and slipping them back into his. His eyes flutter as he cleans whatever is left of your pleasure. "Fuck, I need more of you," he pants. You unhook your leg from his shoulder and pull him up to you by the collar of his shirt, crashing your mouths together. His mouth claims yours in a hot kiss.
"Bedroom," you say fervently and you feel him smile into the kiss. You only break apart for him to take you by the hand and guide you into your room. Once you cross the threshold, he's pulling you into him again, hands greedy and roaming as he backs you up against the bed.
"As stunning as you look," he grunts as you suck on the delicate skin of his neck, "I need that dress off."
You comply, not arguing with the man you've wanted the last eight months. Whatever he told you to do, you would, and that makes a thrill run through you. Deftly, you strip the dress over your head, leaving you in only your panties and bra. Calum's eyes devour you, roaming over every inch of your body. You don't shrink beneath the gaze; there is no place for any insecurity with the utter desire emanating from him.
"Your turn," you say, unable to fetter your craving to witness all of him, and he tugs the shirt off over his head, one hand never leaving your body as he does. You hiss when Calum's hot skin comes in contact with yours, his hands memorizing every curve and fold of your body. Devotion, prayer, a pilgrim paying their respect to the statue of a saint; that's what Calum's touch is, and you bask in it.
You let yourself be hungry, let yourself be desirous. You've stopped yourself from what you've needed for so long, you allow yourself to trace your hands over his torso, his hips, up the muscular ridges of his arms. You learn all of Calum, you want to learn even more.
"Lay back, angel," he commands, a hot and open-mouthed kiss pressed against yours. You let yourself fall backward onto the bed, propping yourself up on your arms. Calum stands over you and admires the sight of you: flushed, panting, and panties soaked. He looks godly in the dim lighting of your room, the shine of the lamp making his tan skin appear gold. His brown eyes alive with want. His lips pink and swollen from you. The way the tattoos only seem to accentuate the best parts of him, not conceal them.
"Calum," you whisper. Though it's just his name, it's your petition. Your request, and he knows it by the way he crawls over you, pressing his mouth against your stomach, then your chest, and back to your mouth. Your skin feels electric, alive with the touch and sensation of Calum. You don't know if you've ever fully experienced desire until now.
"What do you want, pretty girl?" Calum asks. He peppers kisses over your neck, your forehead, your face, your mouth, the valley between your breasts. "Whatever you want, I'll do it," he says. And you know from the way he bites into your skin and inhales your scent, he means it.
"You," you say, allowing yourself to touch his face, tracing his jawline and the furrow of his brows. "I want all of you."
His face lights up, desire and adoration spilling from his eyes and mouth. He presses another desperate kiss to your lips. You hook a leg around his and grind your hips up into him. You're safe here. Safe to want him, safe to be wanted.
"Fuck," you groan in tandem, feeling the length of him pressing through his jeans and brushing your hot core. You reach down and palm him through his pants, Calum bucking into you at your touch.
"Devastating," Calum swears. "You're gonna' fuckin' devastate me," he promises, fumbling with the button of his jeans. When they're free, you slip your hands beneath the denim. You're needy and you have to feel him. Slipping your hands into his boxers, you watch his face go slack when your wrap your hands around him.
The feeling of his rigid, curved cock in your hand, makes your cunt flutter. Calum hisses, squeezes his eyes shut as you work him, taking your thumb to his tip to gather the precum you know is there.
"Goddamn, (Y/N)," he chants, head falling into your shoulder. You continue to rub him off, pressing kisses to the side of his head.
"You sound, gorgeous," you admonish him, trying to memorize the sound of Calum whining into your ear, wishing you could record it and never lose the way his hot breath and whimpers resound in the room because of the way you work him.
Calum goes unbearably rigid in your palm and he swiftly wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling his face from your shoulder.
"Baby, stop. I won't be able to fuck you if you keep it up."
The way he calls you baby sends a sharp squeeze around your heart. The way his eyes are blown wide with pleasure makes your clit ache. All of you needs him.
"Then fuck me," you say, your voice soft, but still a plea. You need the god you've made out of Calum to bless you.
"You've got any protection?" he asks.
You reach into your bedside drawer, your box of condoms you bought ten months ago just in case of any partners, still unopened. You pull out the box and rip it open.
"Pants off," you say to Calum.
Calum smirks and places a kiss to the corner of your mouth. He crawls off of you to tug off his jeans and boxers, fully exposing himself. His cock is deliciously curved, his tip pink and leaking with his desire. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. But you don't let yourself freeze, you hook a finger in the band of your panties and drag them down your legs. Calum licks his swollen lips, looking over you. Carefully, you unhook your bra, casting it to the side. His gaze settles on your breasts: the swell of them and how they rest against your stomach. You see his cock twitch as he takes you in.
"I've always known you were gorgeous," Calum says, kneeling against the bed, his finger tips ghosting over your leg and to the mound of your pubic bone and over the folds of your stomach. His finger tip finally reaches your breast, his hand shifting to cup you. You groan at the sensation of his mouth wrapping around your nipple. He gently sucks, flicking his tongue against you. "But you're like the goddamn sun," he breathes out, crawling over you, slotting himself in between your legs.
He grabs one of the condoms and opens the package with his teeth, sliding it over his length. You feel yourself tremble with anticipation. It's been so long. You've wanted Calum so long. Calum leans down into you, pressing his mouth to the skin at your shoulder, your chest.
"Are you ready?" he asks.
"Yes," you say. You've always been ready. "I need you."
"You've got me," he whispers, sinking slowly into you.
An animalistic groan rips from your throat when Calum bottoms out, stretching you so deliciously your fingers kneed into the sheets. The way his cock turns upward already grazes your gspot.
"Fucking hell, Calum," you pant, letting yourself get accustomed to him.
"You feel so good, pretty girl," he whispers, pressing a kiss to you, unable to ever kiss you too much. "You're doing so good. We can stay here however long we want."
"I'm not going to last," you admit, feeling the way you flutter around him just from pressing into you.
"That's okay, baby," he reassures, brown eyes staying with yours. "Let me take care of you."
"Okay," you say.
"Okay," he smiles, and with your nod, begins to thrust into you. It's slow, his cock dragging against every nerve in your walls perfectly. The heat in your stomach thrums with the sound of Calum's skin meeting yours, the way you are so slick around him. You can't help but gasp every time your bodies meet.
"You're so gorgeous, angel," Calum admonishes. "You're taking me so well," he grunts as he picks up speed. The snap of his hips brings his cock directly to your gspot, and you're consumed with the sensation of Calum: with the kisses he presses to your hot skin, the sweat dripping off his chest, with the way he fucks into you like it's worship.
He hits you perfectly again and your eyes fight to stay open, threatening to roll back into your head. Your hands grip onto his shoulders as he claims his place in your temple.
"Calum," you whine when your walls begin to clench.
"I feel you, baby," Calum praises. "I want that pretty pussy to make a mess on me. Let go."
He brings his hand between you, his thumb going to your clit as he fucks into you, your greatest devotee. The pressure and circles of his thumb on your most sensitive spot sends you into your second orgasm, white-hot, mind-numbing, Nirvana. Your legs tremble as you clench around Calum, and you both cry out in unadulterated pleasure.
"Fuckin' gorgeous, (Y/N)," Calum swears as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, his head dropping to your shoulder as he thrusts twice more before he goes rigid inside. "I'm gonna' come with you, baby," he moans into your ear, sending shivers over your sensitive body. Your name falls off his lips as he finishes, his muscles going taught. Lightning hot warmth moves through your core when he fills the condom inside you. You kiss his neck, unable to do much more from the sex-induced haze, from the ambrosia of his touch.
Calum collapses on top of you, and you let the weight of him rest on you, ground you, comfort you. You both settle into the quiet, listening to the sound of the other's breathing. Your hand rubs Calum's back lazily, natural, tracing over the muscle and sweat.
Calum sighs and pulls out of you, rolling gingerly off of you. He lands next to you in the bed, his eyes watching yours, hand going to your interlaced fingers resting on your chest.
"I was right, you've fuckin' ruined me," he says, a smile playing on his lips.
You roll your eyes, but let the laugh slip from your lips.
"How so?"
He gazes into your eyes, searching for the right words. Now that the want is gone, all you see is adoration. It makes your heart clench in your chest.
"You said I deserved better," he begins, taking your knuckles and bringing them to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against them. "How can I ever have anything but you, now, when you're what's better?"
A flush comes to your face and chest. You know he is waiting for your response, looking to see if his worship has made him favorable in the eyes of his new deity.
"Don't have anything else, then," you say. "Just have me."
Calum nods, his smile lighting up his gorgeous face. He brings his hand to your face and pulls you into another kiss. It tastes like safety, like devotion.
"Okay," he breathes into you.
"Okay," you say.
You both lay there, sharing touches, lingering kisses, and stories of the yous from eight months and eight years before, creating your own books of each other to study and learn and commit to memory. The stillness of the room drapes over you both, consuming you the same way you enrapture each other. And in the darkness, you find a new religion. You find each other.
Calum >>>> π€π©΅π