HOLD, TIGHT PRINCESS M.C (SMUT)

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Michael Clifford is a strange choice for your best friend, he's confident, you're shy, he's 'punk rock', you're more careful and light, most importantly he's a bad boy and you're a good girl. The thing is, in you're whole life you've never had a closer friendship. He's constantly making fun of you, making fun of how you don't know certain things, how innocent you are but you know he doesn't mean it.

One afternoon you invite Mikey over to your place to hang out but you go to fetch some snacks from the kitchen.

"Hey there, [Y/N]," he whispers in your ear while you are pouring crisps into a bowl, his hands on the counter either side of you.

"Michael what the hell are you doing?" you ask.

"What it doesn't turn you one when I whisper in your ear like this?" he whispers again.

"Fuck off, Clifford," you say.

"Ooh, I like it when you talk nasty to me," he proceeds.

"You're so weird, Mikey," you turn to find his face inches from yours.

"Weird? Or unique?" he wiggles his eyebrows.

There's a lot of tension between the two of you now, he wears a smirk and your eyes dart around his face as you gulp.

"Michael, you're really close to my face," you chuckle lightly.

"Don't you like it?" he mutters.

"No, no it's..." you trail off as you look into his green eyes, finding yourself lost.

His lips are pressed to you in a matter of seconds and he takes a deep breath. His hands find your hips and hold on tight, your arms snake around his neck without you thinking about it and when you pull away, finally realizing what's happening.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you pull away.

"It's funny, you didn't seem to mind it that much a minute ago," his tone is still seductive.

"That's not something we do, you make fun of me, I laugh, that's us, we don't... make out," you stammer.

"Come on, you can't possibly not have known that I like you," he says but he get's it from your facial expression. "You actually didn't?"

"You can't like me, we're so different, I'm a... me... no one could ever like me," you seem scared almost.

"Well, how do explain this?" he asks grabbing you by the waist and pulling you forward.

His touch sends a waterfall of goosebumps over your body as he kisses you, his eyes filled with lust and his lips soft and plump. You relax under his grasp and let your hands twist into his hair, tugging lightly. He moans and you can't help but smile. He pushes you into the counted, grinding lightly against you, how could someone like you get someone like Michael turned on. You jump so your sat on the counter and break the kiss, attaching your lips to his neck. He lets his head fall back giving you more room to kiss his neck, letting out a loud moan.

"[Y/N], you're meant to be a good girl," he half groans. "How do you know how to do this without me knowing?"

"I guess you bring out the best in me, Michael," you murmur against his skin, sucking lightly.

"Holy shit," he breathes.

He paws at the hemp of your tshirt and in one quick swoop you throw it to the ground. He unclasps your bra in a matter of seconds. You wrap your arms around his middle and he lifts you to lie your down on the sofa. Still grinding on you, a little harder now to create friction, he climbs on top of you, now it's him kissing your neck. He finds your sweet spot in seconds and you moan his name.

"You have no idea how badly I've wanted to hear you say that," he grins, his voice against your hot skin turning you on even more.

"Mikey, I want you so bad," you say breathlessly, palming him through his, now even tighter, jeans.

His eyes roll back in his head and he lets out one last deep moan before saying, "Hold tight, princess, you're in for a rough ride"

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http://5-seconds-of-solitude.tumblr.com/post/97486388593/hold-tight-princess-michael-clifford-smut

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