Michael: Your support band were cocks. You didn't even know how they got on this tour. They figured they were big shots because they toured with some boy band the year before and they walked around like they were headlining or something. Each one was worse than the other but their guitarist Michael topped them all. He was constantly ripping your music. You'd come back from sound check and he'd make stupid remarks about how your voice better shape up for the real thing and then he'd spend the whole show side stage trying to make you screw up. You'd had enough and before show time one day you barged into their dressing room. Luckily he was the only one in there. "Michael," you narrowed his eyes as he walked over to you. "What is it, honey? Want some vocal tips?" You took a deep breath. "WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO UNDERSTAND YOU'RE THE SUPPORT BAND," you screamed into his face. "WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO UNDERSTAND YOUR BAND SUCKS," he fired back quickly. "AT LEAST I DON'T MESS UP MY ONE GUITAR SOLO EVERY NIGHT," you poked his chest. "AT LEAST I DON'T FORGET LYRICS ALL THE TIME ALTHOUGH I DON'T BLAME YOU BECAUSE THEY'RE TERRIBLY WRITTEN," he laughed slyly. "GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS CLIFFORD," you threw your hands up in the air in exasperation. "SHUT THE HELL UP (Y/N)," he lowered his head down to your level to hear you shout "MAKE ME." He grabbed your shoulders and shoved you backwards, roughly slamming you against the wall and connecting your lips. You locked your hands around the back of his neck as he hoisted you up to wrap your legs around his waist, deepening the kiss. God, you hated Michael Clifford.
Ashton: You loved your friends, but you couldn't say the same about their drummer. They'd introduced you a week before and he was already the most intimidating yet annoying person you'd ever spoken to. They'd invited you over again and you weren't looking forward to it. The moment you walked in the door this Ashton boy was sitting on the couch rolling his eyes. "Where are the guys?" you said through gritted teeth. No answer. You asked again, raising your voice a little bit. No answer. You walked to where he was sitting. He stood up, towering over you; the expression on his face was unreadable. "They went out. They won't be back for a while," he stared intently at you as he spoke deeply, standing a little too close. You gulped audibly and attempted to retreat backwards, but he grabbed your waist pulling you close. "You really don't like me, do you?" He was almost scaring you now. You shook your head from side to side. "Good," he took in a breath. "Because I really don't like you either." Before you could blink his hot lips were moving frantically against your own. You snaked your hands around his neck, intensifying the kiss and proving how much you really didn't like him.
Calum: Every school had one. That arrogant 'bad boy' who deemed himself too good to socialise with anyone else. Yours went by the name of Calum Hood and he had every girl in your school falling to their knees. Not you though, you never saw the appeal. That was why one day you walked into the after school detention you'd received for being tardy that morning your stomach sank when you saw that Calum was the only other person in the room. You sat quietly in front of him hoping you could get through this without any eye contact. No such luck. Within minutes the teacher had left and he'd hopped onto your desk. "Excuse me," you murmured. "You know I'm not usually into good girls," he slid off the desk and into the seat next to you. "But for you I'd make an exception." It was the first time you'd really got a proper look at him and you finally realised why the other girls went crazy. He was simply beautiful and his voice...no (Y/N), you hate his type, remember? "You're thinking about what it would be like to kiss me, aren't you?" he gave a crooked smirk. Damn. "You wish, Hood. You know not everyone is sucked into your charm bubble you egotistical, self-serving, pretentious, assuming, shallow-" He cut you off right there, slamming his lips to yours. "Oh shut up," he mumbled as he moved to your neck, driving your senses into overload and causing your hands to fly to his hair and eagerly kiss back.
Luke: You couldn't even remember the reason why you didn't get long with your neighbour Luke, all you knew was that you strongly disliked him and had since you both hit your teenage years. You did your best to avoid each other but unfortunately your parents were close friends and dinner parties were frequent. That's why you found yourself sitting in his living room with him and his brothers. You were going to watch some movie while your parents had adult time. Halfway through both of his brothers got up to get snacks. The movie was paused and you and Luke were stuck in tense silence. "(Y/N) can I ask you something?" Your turned your head in his direction to give him a funny look. "Um, okay?" your clear uneasiness seeping through. "What happened with us? I mean, I remember playing in your garden when we were eight and having the time of our lives then bam, you hated me." You gave him an incredulous look. "I think you mean you hated me. You started acting really weird around me after your fourteenth birthday party. I presumed you didn't like me anymore." He laughed at your explanation. "I think the issue was that I liked you in a new kind of way." You cocked your head to the side before your mouth formed an o shape. "And I gotta admit I still think you're pretty cute. Maybe we could hang out like old times again?" You blushed and gave him a nod as his brothers came back into the room.