5sos Smut

M.C

He couldn't help it.
Looking at you, he genuinely couldn't help it.
The way you bit your pencil, thinking, as you mindlessly tapped along to some beat playing from your laptop, before scribbling something down in a rushed fury of inspiration. The way your tongue would stick out just slightly on your upper lip as you were in heavy concentration.
If he was being honest, Michael would admit that he hated that you had to revise so much for uni. He didn't like that it took up so much of your time, and you'd spent many nights before exams crying in his arms from all the stress. He didn't like that you worked so hard, but he admired that you did. Everything you did, you put your all into, and it was admirable. You were a perfectionist, to a fault, and it caused for much frustration whenever you weren't immediately perfect at everything. He thought it was laughable, almost, watching you pout and frown in frustration. And then he nearly groaned aloud, thinking about your pout. The way your lips puffed and your eyes looked so big and innocent and beautiful. The way you would whine, and look at him, and mutter some complaint. And then he would laugh, and pull you into his arms and kiss your head. He missed you, and yet, there you were, right in front of him.
"Babe," He whispered. Your attention was hardly broken, because once you were on a roll you hardly ever stopped until all your revisions were finished. He hated that about you, but he loved it just the same. You were so dedicated, but then again, you were so dedicated, and that meant less time with him, and less attention given to him and less kisses and less smooth touches. He wanted your lips on his neck, no one else's, just yours, and your hands running down his body, and your lips around his cock. "Babe." He repeated.
"Yes, Michael?" You asked, not looking back towards him like he wished you would. You were looking between the illuminated screen of your laptop reflecting on your face, and your notebook, writing something down.
"Babe..." He repeated, more whined, though, like a child. He might've sounded needy, but he didn't care, he needed you, and he didn't like you being so busy. He was just the slightest bit jealous of your coursework, just the slightest bit jealous of the pencil you were holding so tightly in your cute little hands and the slightest bit jealous of the laptop that was getting all of your attention. And then he felt foolish, for being so jealous of inanimate objects.
"What's wrong, Michael?" You asked, turning your attention towards him for a mere second, before going back to what you were doing. He groaned inwardly, and decided that the only way he could capture your attention would be to physically force you to pay attention to him. And he knew just how to do it, although he might get scolded for it.
He scooted towards you, at the end of the bed. He wrapped his arms around your warm waist and leaned his head on your shoulder.
"Hi." He whispered, letting his hand rub up your spine to your hair, playing with it in his hands.
"Hi," You laughed. "What are you doing, Mikey?" He liked it, when you called him that. He liked the way it sounded. He wasn't usually the biggest fan of his bandmates, or anyone else calling him that, just you. It only seemed appropriate being whispered from your lips, with your voice, soothing and luscious, especially when his name was being expelled from it.
"Nothing," He licked his lips, pressing gentle kisses along your neck and shoulder as he watched you work.
"Michael," You whispered, a warning. Your voice was cautious, but he knew you liked it. You always liked it when he kissed you.
"Hmm?" He asked, not ceasing his movements, as he noticed out of the corner of his eye that you weren't writing anything down, that you were looking at his arms wrapped securely around you, and not glancing at that dumb laptop that so rudely captured your attention.
"Mikey, stop." You exhaled a deep breath, not a very convincing gesture. Your hand came up to your shoulder to stop his kisses, but if anything they encouraged them more, and he proceeded to kiss all over the back of your hand.
"You're pretty," He whispered in your ear. "Have I ever told you that?"
You laughed at his words. "Maybe once or twice." But you coughed and recomposed yourself, much to his dismay. "Mikey I have work to do."
"It'll be here when you get back, I promise." He laughed. "It won't miss you." It might've been selfish, in fact it probably was very indeed selfish, but he need you, he needed your warmth, your hands around his shoulders and your legs around his waist as he watched your face curl in ecstasy and you wrap so tightly and lovely around his cock. He loved it. He loved you, and it'd been far too long since he felt you naked underneath him, squirming and writhing from what he was doing.
"I have to get this done, baby." You whispered. "Can you wait, maybe, ten minutes?"
"No." He immediately responded, pulling you tighter, pulling your closer. "I can't."
"Michael," You laughed, leaning back into his chest, "Come on, I'm almost finished." He didn't respond, just grunted unhappily as he resumed to kiss all across your neck and the side of your jaw that he could reach at such an awkward angle. And he knew, that when your hands snaked up his shoulder to his coloured hair, that he'd won. And he smiled in victory as he turned your head to kiss you properly, running his teeth against your lip.
"I win," He muttered.
"Don't act so cocky," You huffed, but he just chuckled and gently flipped you over to where he could lay on top of you. And then he noticed the bra strap on your shoulder, and he looked brightly up at you.
"Are you wearing the red bra? My favourite?" He asked, like a puppy begging for a treat.
"Maybe," You whispered, letting your hand run down his arms, as goosebumps began to form. "Why don't you find out?"
"You know exactly what you're doing to me, don't you?" He muttered. "You do. I know you do. You wore it on purpose, didn't you? I love it. You know I love it." He whispered as he pulled your shirt over your head and pulled your arms through.
He couldn't help but lick his lips at the fabric donning your skin. In honesty, you may or may not have simply worn it because it was comfortable, and clean, as you'd been doing laundry in-between study breaks. But you knew it was his favourite, he'd told you many times, that he liked the way it looked on you, that he liked the red lace and the pretty little bow in the middle.
He played with the bow a little, looking at you like you were the greatest treasure and he'd be damned if he broke it, or spent it all in one setting. His hands traced the little lace pattern, they slightly resembled flowers, and it looked so dreadfully innocent and cheeky at the same time. It made his cock twitch, tightly packed away inside his skinny jeans just waiting to be free. His hands traced your shoulders and he pressed a gentle kiss to one.
"Do you wanna take it off for me, love?" He asked. "Please?"
You leaned up, arching your back as your hands moved behind you to undo the clasp. You kept your eye contact with him as you slip the straps down your shoulder and threw the bra to a forgotten corner of the room.
"You're so pretty," He whispered, in awe. "So, so, pretty." His hands slightly inched forward, although there was hesitation in his eye. You sighed, rolling your eye, grabbing his hand and putting on your breast. He smiled brightly as he squeezed his hand and kneaded it in his palm, gently, watching as your nipple went hard and you whined lightly. Your hands did some exploring of their own, tugging on his shirt and looking up at him pleadingly. He winked at you and took his shirt off before returning his attention back to your chest, giving a little kiss on each one and letting his hands play with them a little as he looked up at you.
"You're such a boob guy," You laughed at him, running your fingers through his hair.
"Maybe," He whispered. "Maybe your boobs are just perfect." He shrugged, kissing your lips lightly as he moved his hands lower to the band of your joggers.
"Perfect, huh?" You asked.
He nodded. "Mhmm." His hands traced the curves of your body, letting your back arch and react to the cold temperature of his hands. He would be lying if he said he didn't love it, when his hands were cold and they were on you, and you were arching your back into the air. You were just so...pretty.
"Can I take these off you, baby?" He asked. You nodded, watching the colour of his eyes darken the slightest bit as he played with the drawstring before pulling them down your wonderful, pretty legs.
He kissed up your thighs and smirked deviously as he stopped at the line of your panties, toying at the hem with his fingers.
"Michael," You whined. He just winked and pulled your panties down your legs, looking in awe at you so sprawled out and ready for him,
"So cute, baby, aren't you?" He whispered. "All for me, right?"
"All for you," You whispered. He hummed softly as his hand went up to caress your cheek.
"What do you want, baby? Do you want my fingers, my mouth, my cock?" His jaw dropped on the last word, emphasising it and watching as you squirmed. You melt for a few explicit words, and he knew it, and he always loved to use it against you, especially in inappropriate situations, in public. He liked watching you clear your throat and compose yourself. He loved watching you get flustered from him.
Only him.
"M-mouth," You stuttered, blushing furiously at the dirty words. He smiled at you gently, soothingly running his hands up and down your arms.
"Anything for you, princess." He muttered. "Anything." He kissed his way down your stomach to your sex, completely exposed in all its glory to the light of your life lying on top of you. It was a little uncomfortable for you, but Michael loved you. Endlessly. He reminded you of it everyday, although it wasn't always with words. Sometimes it was just the way he held you, or the way he twirled your fingers in his hair, or the way he'd kiss your cheek and hold your hand.
He licked a bold stripe up your folds, watching to gauge your reaction. You moaned slightly, just a faint echo of his name. He did it again, and your fingers clasped in his hair, pulling, but not hard enough to where it hurt. And then he winked at you, and he gave you all his attention, tracing his tongue in symbols on your clit and ravishing you. Your hips involuntarily bucked up into his face, and he frowned and growled against you, causing vibrations to surge up your body.
"Stay still," He muttered, locking his hands on your hips as he continued his assault. You couldn't help the sounds exceeding from your mouth at this point, and certainly Michael didn't mind; he loved hearing them. You were so out of it, so totally enraptured feeling nothing but absolute pleasure as Michael happily tickled the orgasm out of you.
Your back arched and your mouth fell open as his name escaped your lips, chanted like it was the only word you knew, and the knot in your stomach came undone and Michael looked up at you, so undoubtedly pleased, a shit-eating grin donned on his face as he wiped his dripping chin on his hand.
"I love you," He whispered. "My little princess." He exhaled a slight chuckle as he resumed his position back on top of you.
"What's so funny?" You pouted, still panting heavily from before as you placed gentle kisses along Michael's shoulder.
"You're just cute, s'all." He whispered. "And I really like you. Like, you know, a lot." He winked and you laughed, hitting his arm.
"Shut up."
"Say you like me back!"
"Michael, we're dating. I feel like that's understood."
"Remind me." He blinked, pouting with those big puppy dog eyes that worked every single time.
"I like you, too," You whispered, kissing his cheek. "I might even love you a bit."
"Love me? Oooh," He whispered. "Someone's whipped." You giggled at his words, and he took your hands in his own and intertwined them. "Are you ready for me, my love?" He whispered.
"But, you didn't," You paused, not wanting to finish your sentence as you looked down to below his hips, and back to his face, watching his smirk form on his face.
"You don't have to worry about me, babe." He whispered. "I've been ready since you put that pencil in your mouth, honestly."
"Oh my god, you're so gross." You scoffed, shaking your head with laughter.
"You love me." He whispered, leaning down to kiss your lips as he lined up at your entrance. You sighed heavily as he pushed a little bit in. He intertwined your hands and kept his free hand for balance, inching slowly as he kissed all over your face.
"Michael," You couldn't help his name leaving your mouth, as he hummed, not wanting to go too fast and throw the beautiful moment to waste. If he could, he'd make it last forever...
Just the feeling of you wrapped so beautifully around him and your hands gripping at his shoulder tighter and tighter the deeper he went, and the little exhales and pants he received from your mouth.
He stopped once he felt like he should, leaning down to kiss down your neck and your mouth and everywhere his lips could reach. He wanted you to know that he loved you. And it was always, always, you.
He inched back and thrusted forward, watching your reaction to see if you were wincing at all. The heavy pant that fell from your lips as your head fell back and your eyes shut said that he was doing alright.
"Hey, baby, look at me," He whispered in your ear. "Look at me, baby, look at me when I'm making you feel good." He said, licking his lips once more as he continued on with his explicit words and you did your best to keep your eyes open for him. "I bet you're feeling good now, yeah? I bet you're loving this. It looks good. So lovely, baby, you're so lovely. You know that, don't you?" He made up his own pace, his hand leaving yours as it went to grasp the headboard for more leverage.
"Michael," His name fell from your lips once more as he went a little harder, just a bit, just to test the waters.
"What is it, baby?" He teased. Your hands grabbed at his waist to pull him impossibly closer as you encased your lips over his. He nibbled lightly at your bottom lip, letting his tongue slip through and play with yours.
He happily relished in the feeling of you, so warm and beautiful and delightful. The same you that danced around in your knickers when no one was home, the same you that cried at Disney films, the same you that he could absolutely nothing with and still have the time of his life.
So wrapped in you, so dazzled by you, everything around him was just...you. And it was home, and heavenly, and all foreign territory at the same time, and he wasn't sure how that was possible, but it felt good. It all felt so good.
"Come for me, baby." He whispered in your ear, rubbing his thumb against your clit as you mewled and writhed underneath him. The headboard banged against the wall and now you were glad that the wall next to the master bedroom was, in fact, just the bathroom, and not the next flat over. "Come on, then, show me how pretty you are, squeezing down on my cock. I know you want to." He whispered words in your ear, coaxing you into coming and screaming his name, just for him. And you did, you inhaled deeply and let it go as you clutched onto anything you could reach - the mattress, the duvet, Michael.
He laughed at you, before entwining your hands and kissing your neck and your face as he rode out your high and entered into his own.
"Baby," He whispered in your ear. "I love you."
"I love you too."
He stayed there for a moment, neither of you moving, neither of you really wanting to. His hand went to caress your cheek.
"How was that for a study break, hm?" He laughed, cheekily.
"I need to get back to it." You whined, frowning at the thought of doing all that work when you could be wrapped up with Michael.
"Not yet, you don't." He frowned, "Stay with me, here, just for a second." He hugged you close to him and pressed meaningless kisses against your sweaty skin. Silence enveloped over the two of you, before you felt him smile into your shoulder as he said, "You should wear that bra more often."
"The red one?" You asked.
"Yeah," He nods. "I like that one."
"I've noticed." You scoffed, running your hand up to his hair and playing with it for a little bit.
"Let's take a nap." He rolled off of you lazily, and enveloped you with his arms as he snuggled into your shoulder. "G'night, princess."
"Goodnight, Mikey." You laughed, even though it was nearly noon, and you snuggled close and let your eyes close and mind drift off.